#god I can’t wait to see what they do with these characters

[writingfics-passingtime]

hi, can you please write about the reader overthinking decorating a pumpkin and loki threatens to tickle them if they don't start it 🤗🤗

I can still post pumpkin content cause it's still November, right?

Here's a sassy, stoic reader, an absolute teasing menace Loki, and a tender, emotional ending (because I can't help myself).

word count: ~4300

pairing: Loki x female reader

content / warnings: sexual tension, suggestive banter, flirting and touching, tickling, swearing

minors dni: this work does not contain smut, but does contain a suggestive relationship between the reader and an adult-aged character. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.

note: thank you anon ~ I wasn't going to respond yet because my prompts aren't open, but I've seen a few other writers receive and fulfil this ask, and I've liked seeing what other have done with it. My imagination went a little wild. Thanks for your message x

If anyone has an idea for a title, help a girl out

The room was alive with voices, clinking bottles, and the occasional scrape of a knife against pumpkin flesh. The compound’s main dining hall had been transformed into an unlikely tableau of domesticity. Avengers, gods, and spies bent over their assigned gourds with varying levels of skill and enthusiasm. Stark’s pumpkin already looked like a disaster of glitter and questionable wiring, while Natasha’s had been carved into a clean, menacing grin, a masterpiece of precision.

And then there was you.

Your pumpkin sat pristine and untouched in front of you, its smooth surface mocking your indecision. Brushes, carving tools, and paints were scattered around your space, all conspicuously unused. You held a small knife in your hand, twirling it absently as you stared at the blank canvas.

“Do mortals often find themselves defeated by vegetables, or is this particular weakness unique to you?”

Loki's voice slid over you like velvet, dark and rich, tinged with mockery.

You didn’t look up. “It’s a fruit, actually.”

“Ah,” he drawled, moving closer. “Semantics. How very like you.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him lean against the edge of the table, his long, lean frame clothed in casual, dark fabrics that clung just enough to remind you that he wasn’t of your world. His sharp blue eyes sparkled with amusement as he surveyed your untouched pumpkin.

“You’ve been staring at it for nearly an hour,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Surely even you can’t find this much to overthink.”

You exhaled sharply, finally meeting his gaze. “Maybe I’m waiting for inspiration.”

“Or perhaps you’re simply afraid to begin.” His lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk, the kind that made your pulse stumble. “One wrong cut, one poorly chosen stroke, and the whole thing could be ruined. What a tragic metaphor for your careful, overthought life.”

“Thanks for the analysis, Freud,” you said dryly, turning your attention back to the pumpkin. “Now, if you’re done, I have work to do.”

“Work?” His laugh was quiet, mocking. He moved closer, the faint rustle of his clothing brushing against your senses like a whisper. “Sitting frozen with indecision isn’t work, darling. It’s fear.”

You bristled but kept your voice calm. “If you’re so invested in this pumpkin, why don’t you decorate it yourself?”

“Because I find your quandary far more entertaining.”

He stepped around behind you then, his tall frame casting a shadow over your seat. His presence loomed, a magnetic pull you both resented and couldn’t entirely resist.

“I’ll give you a choice,” he said softly, his voice close now, the faintest trace of his breath against your ear. “Either you begin decorating this ridiculous fruit, or I’ll take matters into my own hands.”

You turned slightly, meeting his eyes over your shoulder. They gleamed with dark amusement, his smirk widening as he caught the way your lips parted involuntarily. “Oh? And how exactly would you do that?”

Loki’s smirk deepened, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. “I could start with this.”

Before you could react, his fingers brushed against your sides, featherlight but enough to send a jolt through you. You stiffened, gripping the edge of the table as his touch lingered, just shy of maddening.

You twisted in your chair to glare at him. “That’s your plan? Tickle me into submission? How original.”

His chuckle was low, dark, a sound that sent a shiver up your spine. “Oh, I think it would be quite effective. And besides,” he murmured, leaning closer, “I suspect you’d secretly enjoy it.”

Your breath caught at the sheer audacity of him, the way his voice dipped into something so sultry, so intimate, that your stomach twisted. “Sounds like you're desperate for an excuse to touch me,” you shot back, your tone sharp despite the heat rising in your cheeks.

He tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more dangerous, more deliberate. “Desperate? No, darling. Just curious.”

His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, as if he could see straight through you to the rapid beat of your heart.

The air between you seemed to thicken, the tension coiling taut as his words hung there, daring you to respond.

Your grip on the table tightened as you forced yourself to meet his eyes, even as heat coiled low in your stomach.

It felt like gripping the steering wheel of a car spinning out, but you snapped the moment.

“You’re not as intimidating as you think you are."

Loki laughed, soft and wicked. “Of course not. And you're the picture of composure, as always."

His hand brushed against yours then, the faintest graze of his fingertips, and you swore the room tilted.

“Go on,” he urged, his voice a low murmur, his eyes locked on yours. “Prove me wrong. Pick up the brush. Start decorating. Show me you're not afraid of a little fun.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding so loudly you were certain he could hear it. The weight of his gaze, the dark amusement in his smirk, the sheer magnetic pull of him it was... intoxicating.

Finally, with a sharp exhale, you grabbed the brush. “Fine,” you said, your voice tight as you dipped it into the paint.

Loki straightened, his smirk triumphant but his eyes still glinting with wicked intent. “There’s a good girl,” he said softly, the words like a caress against your ear.

It left you burning long after he’d stepped away.

As you focused on the paint in front of you, doing your best to ignore the heat coursing through your veins, you felt the thrill of his words linger.

The brush hovered over the pumpkin, the orange, unsullied skin glaring up at you like a taunt. Loki had retreated to the far end of the room, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the edge of the table as he spoke with Thor. You knew it was only a matter of time before his attention flickered back to you, the heat of a flame too close for comfort.

You had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm under his gaze any longer.

Sliding the brush down as quietly as possible, you rose from your seat. The soft scrape of your chair legs across the floor was muffled beneath the ambient chatter of the room, and Loki didn’t so much as glance your way. Your pulse quickened as you edged toward the door, heart hammering with every step.

He didn’t follow.

Once you’d slipped into the quiet of the hall, the tension in your chest eased, and you let out a breath you were very aware you'd been holding.

You made your way toward the compound’s library, the solitude of it a welcome balm. The others would still be occupied for at least another hour - enough time for you to lose yourself in the pages of your book and avoid whatever game Loki had been playing that almost made you crack.

The library greeted you with its familiar quiet, the scent of leather sofas and paper a comforting presence. You found your usual spot tucked away in a far corner, a large bay window cushioned with soft pillows overlooking the courtyard. Settling in with a contented sigh, you pulled your book from where you'd wedged it between the seat cushion and the wooden frame.

The story drew you in almost immediately, the tension of moments ago dissolving into the words on the page. The sunlight filtering through the window began softening into twilight, painting the room in hues of amber and shadow.

The quiet here was sacred, untouched by the chaos of the compound. As you turned the last few pages, your chest loosened, the illusion of safety creeping in.

Surely, he hadn’t followed you. Surely, Loki had other things to occupy himself-

Surely not.

“I expected better from you.”

The voice slithered into your ears, so low and sudden that your breath caught in your throat. With all your years of training, you managed to stay frozen. Futile, though. You knew he could see right through it.

You looked up, and there he stood, shadowed and immaculate, his silhouette framed by the dim glow of a single, golden lamp. His icy blue eyes glinted with cruel amusement, his lips curling into a smirk that made your stomach twist.

“How... predictable,” he continued, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. “You flee like a rabbit, thinking you can burrow away from the wolf.”

Your heart hammered against your ribs, but you forced yourself turn back your book. “I don’t recall fleeing,” you started, turning a page. “I walked out, actually. Perhaps you’ve forgotten the difference in your old age.”

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, like distant thunder rolling over jagged peaks. “Ah, there it is. That fire you wear like armour. Does it soothe you to pretend you’re unshakeable?”

You scoffed, even as your pulse betrayed you. “You’re awfully sure of yourself for someone whose only hobby seems to be tormenting me.”

“Torment?” he echoed, his voice silken as he closed more distance between you. “My dear, if I were tormenting you, you’d know it. Shall I demonstrate?”

You didn’t dignify that with a response, instead turning another page of your book. The words blurred before your eyes, but you kept your expression neutral. “If you think I’m going to feed your ego by reacting, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

"Why did you refuse to take part?" There was something unnervingly earnest in his voice that pulled at your heart. "Why did you leave?"

You looked up, wearing a mask of indifference and sarcasm. “I didn’t realise decorating pumpkins was a matter of state importance.”

The smirk tugging at his lips was slow and predatory, dark amusement glinting in his eyes. “Such sharp words, little rabbit. Always so quick with your tongue when your heart’s trying to claw its way out of your chest.”

Your pulse spiked, but you refused to let him see it. Instead, you tilted your head, letting a slow, sardonic smirk curve your lips. “You said you weren't desperate, Loki. But you seem to have taken to taunting me for sport."

The laugh that slipped from him was low and sinuous, curling like smoke through the still air. “Oh, I don’t need sport to occupy me. But you…” He leaned forward, the space between you vanishing in an instant. “You’re far too entertaining to resist. Especially when you’re trembling behind that mask of yours.”

“I’m not trembling.”

“No?” His voice was a purr now, his breath brushing your ear as he lowered himself just enough to meet you at eye level. “I suppose you weren’t squirming earlier, either. Like prey in my hands.”

Your cheeks flared with heat, but you kept your expression neutral. “You sound obsessed.”

“And you sound very ticklish.”

The way he said it - smooth, dark, laced with that damned smirk -sent a ripple of mortification through you. It was all the confirmation you needed of his intentions to follow through on his earlier threat.

It was inevitable.

So you leaned back, lifting your book as if to shield yourself from the weight of his gaze. If you were going down, you were going down swinging. Well, verbally, at least.

“You’re overplaying your hand.”

“Oh, am I?” He stood to his full height, towering over you now, his shadow eclipsing the faint light. “Because the ones who act so tough, so stoic, so unbothered... they’re always the most fun. It’s so very delicious to watch them fall apart.”

“Is that what you tell yourself at night?” You forced your tone into something light, dismissive, though your grip on the book tightened. “That you’ve got me figured out?”

His smirk deepened, his head tilting as he studied you like a puzzle he already knew how to solve. “I don’t need to tell myself anything. You do all the work for me.”

Your lips parted for a retort, but his eyes flickered down to the slight tremor in your fingers, the way your knees shifted restlessly against the cushions.

And you saw how his smile widened, satisfied and predatory, when he saw all the hallmarks of someone about to flee.

“Go ahead,” he murmured, voice dropping to a velvet whisper. “Run. It’ll be more fun for me.”

For a split second, you froze, torn between logic and instinct. Then you bolted, your book tumbling to the seat as you darted for the nearest gap.

But Loki was faster.

You didn't make it two full steps before he caught you with a preternatural ease, his ensnaring hands dragging you back against him in one smooth motion. His low chuckle brushed your ear as he manoeuvred you down onto the window seat, half-pinning you on your side with his arms wrapped firmly around your waist.

“Pitiful,” he drawled, his tone rich with mockery. “And here I thought you’d make it a challenge.”

You shoved at him, scowling. “Let me go, you overgrown-”

Whatever venom you’d prepared was shattered as his fingers pressed into your ribs, curling with precision against the fabric of your sweater. Laughter burst from you, loud and uncontrollable, and you immediately clamped your lips shut, mortified by the sound.

“Ah,” Loki purred, his grin widening. “There it is. That lovely sound you try so hard to keep from the world. Go on, darling. Let me hear it again.”

“Loki, wait- no!” you gasped, but his hands had already found the curve of your waist, his fingers pinching with precision that felt criminal.

“No?” he echoed, mockingly incredulous. “You were so calm a moment ago. What happened?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. His hands slipped beneath the hem of your sweater, squeezing tighter, his nails grazing the bare skin of your sides. You quaked at the contact, laughter spilling out uncontrollably as he found every sensitive spot with uncanny accuracy. Your hands clutched at his forearms, his chuckle hot and tempting against your neck as your head fell back in mirth.

“Tell me the truth,” he said, his voice low and commanding, the words a dark melody against your ear. “Why did you run?”

“I- I...” you wheezed, twisting in his hold, going nowhere. With a ferocious, defiant growl, you yelled, "I... walked!"

Loki paused, his lips curling in that knowing smirk, and then he tickled harder, digging in with precision. You crumpled back against him, laughing helplessly, unable to catch your breath. Every sound that left your mouth was a mix of laughter and helpless gasps, each one a surrender to him, to the unrelenting tickling.

“Let's try again,” Loki commanded, his voice low, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me why you fled.”

You struggled to pull yourself together, trying to come up with another witty retort, but before you could speak, Loki found an especially sensitive spot, just under your ribs, and his fingers locked in with a brutal efficiency. You shrieked, squirming beneath him, but he held you there with the effortless force of a god, his smile widening against the shell of your ear.

You thrashed harder, your laughter raw and breaking, tears welling in your eyes. “I’ll- kill you-”

“You’ll what?” He laughed, low and dark, his fingers picking up speed again, pressing and kneading with wicked precision. Every stroke of his hands felt like it was designed to unravel you, to push you past your limits and then some.

The realisation hit like a blow: he could read you. Every shudder, every hitch in your breath, every twitch of your body. And worse, he was enjoying it, adjusting his touch with the kind of skill that only centuries of mischief could hone. His hands didn’t just tickle; they teased, tormented, mastered you.

"You- oh my g-" you gasped, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "You absolute fucking-"

“Such language,” he chided, his tone a tease of disapproval. “And after I’ve been so gentle.”

His fingers danced lower, teasing the curve of your hips, and the laugh that escaped you was so deep, so raw, it left your chest aching. Loki stilled for half a heartbeat, his grin sharp as he took in the sound, before redoubling his efforts. He pressed his thumbs into the tender space just above your hipbones, his fingers curling to squeeze in a way that had you screaming, your body writhing in his iron grip.

“Okay! Okay!” you gasped, tears of mirth welling in your eyes.

“Speak, then,” he commanded in low and silken voice, his fingers unrelenting. “And don’t lie to me. You won’t like the consequences.”

“I—” You hesitated, your breath hitching, but he gave you no mercy. His nails dragged lightly over your ribs, and the sound that tore from you was half a laugh, half a desperate gasp.

“Speak."

“I didn’t want to embarrass myself!” you finally choked out, your body trembling beneath his. “I didn’t want to make something stupid and have everyone see how bad it is!”

Immediately, his hands stilled, and you gulped in a shuddering breath. He unwrapped his arms from around you and leaned back, his smirk softening into something almost... fond. You shoved at him weakly, as if not quite believing he was retreating.

“Well,” he said, standing and staring down at you, admiring his handiwork, “you’ve certainly made a spectacle of yourself now.”

You glared at him, flushed and breathless. “You... are insufferable.”

“And you,” he countered, his grin returning, “are utterly fascinating. Shall we?”

Before you could protest, he hooked his arms under your knees and around your back, sweeping you up effortlessly, carrying you toward the door. You squirmed in his grasp.

“What the hell are you doing now?”

“Delivering you back to the battlefield,” he said, his smirk a knife’s edge. “You’re not escaping that easily. You’ve still got a pumpkin to ruin, and I, for one, am thoroughly invested in the spectacle.”

You groaned, your head falling back in defeat. "I hate you."

The smirk in his voice was undeniable. "No, you don't."

The dining hall was no longer the lively scene it had been earlier.

Now, it was deserted, shadows stretching long and dark across the room, flickering with the faint light of a few dying candles. The scent of melted wax and pumpkin guts permeated in the air, and the silence was nearly oppressive.

Loki carried you inside, his grip firm but not unkind, and though you didn’t resist, you couldn’t help but feel a smouldering irritation at the way he seemed to enjoy this small victory. When he set you down, his hands lingered at your waist, steadying you, as though daring you to bolt again.

You stepped forward, stopping just shy of your untouched pumpkin. Its smooth, orange surface gleamed in the low light, mocking you. The tools remained where you’d left them, and the weight of your earlier frustration pressed at the edges of your mind.

“I... don’t know what to do with it,” you said finally, turning back to Loki. You hated how the admission sounded - small, almost defeated - but there was no taking it back now.

Loki’s sharp gaze softened imperceptibly. His lips twitched, but the smirk didn’t fully form. “Then I shall help you,” he said, his voice low and smooth, offering no room for argument.

Before you could respond, he sat in your chair with that infuriating ease, his presence commanding even in the simplest of movements. His eyes met yours, glittering with a mixture of challenge and amusement, and he reached out a hand, curling his fingers in a silent demand.

“What are you-” The words barely left your mouth before you realised he was beckoning you to sit on his lap. Heat flushed through you, unbidden, and you scoffed, trying to mask it. “You do realise chairs are meant for one person, don’t you?”

Yet, unwilling to have him see how he was sliding under your skin, you turned and settled yourself against him. His muscled chest brushed against your back, his legs firm and solid as your seat.

“And yet, here we are,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. His hand settled at your waist - an anchor, not a cage. “Now, let’s see if we can salvage your poor, neglected pumpkin.”

You scoffed, grabbing the carving tool. “Fine. Show me your masterful technique, Your Highness.”

The title came out sharper than intended, but Loki only chuckled, low and indulgent. He leaned closer, his shadow engulfing yours, and reached around your shoulder to guide your hand. His fingers slid over yours, his grip firm but not harsh. “Relax,” he murmured. His voice sent a delicious shiver down your spine. “You grip it like a weapon. This is art, not war.”

You bit back a retort and let him guide you. His body was close enough that his every movement brushed against yours, his breath warm against your cheek. Together, you began to carve into the pumpkin, slow and deliberate. His free hand flexed against your waist, your free hand steadying the canvas.

As the shapes emerged, you realised they weren’t ordinary designs. They were runes.

Norse runes. Delicate, intricate, and entirely unreadable to you.

Loki worked with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his hand steady as he traced the lines with your hand.

“What does it say?” you asked eventually, breaking the silence.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your neck as he murmured, “You’ll see. Keep holding it steady."

The tension between you grew with every passing second. His touch lingered long, his presence close. Every shift of his body beneath yours was impossible to ignore, every brush of his breath against your skin a reminder of just how thin the line between teasing and something real had become.

When the carving was done, you slipped off his lap, feeling the need for a the brief moment of distance for your sanity, and retrieved a candle from the sideboard.

But the room felt colder without him holding you.

You lit the wick and placed the candle inside the pumpkin, watching as the light filled the carved runes, casting jagged shadows across the table.

You turned back to Loki. His expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed on you as though he could see straight through to your very thoughts.

Carefully, you sat back down on his lap, unable to ignore the magnetic pull he seemed to have on you. This time, you sat side-on. His hands settled instinctively, one on your back, one on your knee, holding you steady. With his height, your faces were almost level, but you still had to look ever so slightly up.

“What does it say?” you asked again, your voice quieter now, as if speaking too loudly might shatter whatever fragile thing had formed between you.

“The name of a great warrior,” he said, his tone mockingly reverent. “Renowned for wit, skill, and unmatched beauty.”

You arched a brow, your lips twitching. “Let me guess. Your name?”

His grin widened, and the silence was answer enough for you.

You rolled your eyes, but a genuine smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yet undeniably fascinating,” he countered, his voice a low purr. His gaze dropped to your lips, and his smirk faltered, replaced with something quieter, more tender. Relieved. "There it is." His words were almost a sigh.

You tilted your head, raising a brow in question.

“I was beginning to fear you didn’t know how to smile.”

The intimacy of his words rendered you speechless for several, long seconds. Your mind faltered, your fingers fidgeting in your lap.

“What? You don't remember what happened like... twenty minutes ago? I recall laughing to the point of tears, thanks to you.”

“That was different,” he said simply, his tone quieter, earnest.

The air between you thickened, heavy with unspoken things. His hand moved in slow, deliberate patterns against your back. “It must be exhausting,” he said after a moment, his voice gentle and laced with something that sounded dangerously close to sympathy. “Always bracing for the next crisis.”

His sudden sincerity caught you off-guard. You fidgeted with your hands, stained with pumpkin pulp, your gaze dropping to your lap. “It’s not like that,” you muttered, though the words felt hollow.

“Isn’t it?” His hand stilled on your back for a moment before continuing its slow, soothing movements. “You are allowed moments of meaningless joy. To partake in frivolity. It doesn’t make you weak.”

A bitter laugh escaped you, soft and humourless. “I take it you didn’t buy that I was embarrassed about the pumpkin?”

He tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Not for a second.”

You looked up, straight into him. "But you let me go."

His gaze fell to your lips, as if he were already missing your smile. Mourning it. Plotting a witty remark or flirtatious comment that might see its return.

He then looked back to your eyes, swallowing harder than usual, his voice now gentle. “I thought you were due for some mercy. You... seem to have very little for yourself.”

The words settled over you like a weight, heavy and undeniable.

And for a moment, you couldn’t breathe.

"It feels wrong," you admitted in little over a whisper. "To... do things like this when so many people-" The breath caught in your throat and you had to look back at your hands, sniffing to buy some time. "It's selfish. Carving pumpkins. Decorating. Laughing at stupid things. People are out there suffering, and I’m here playing holiday games. Safe.”

Loki was quiet for a long moment, his hand resuming its slow, deliberate movements along your back. It brought you far more comfort than you'd ever admit out loud. Not yet, at least.

When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, the usual sharp edges dulled. “You cannot bear the weight of your world every hour of every day. Even the strongest flame falters if it is not tended.”

The rawness of his words cut through your defences. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but your lips twitched as you tried to deflect. “You know,” you muttered, half-laughing as your head dipped, “getting tickled to death felt a lot less exposing than this conversation.”

His chest vibrated with a low chuckle, and when you glanced up, his smirk had returned, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “I’m happy to oblige,” he drawled, his fingers curling against you as if preparing to pounce.

You shot him a warning look, though you couldn’t quite keep the corner of your mouth from twitching. “You wouldn't.”

“Oh, wouldn't I?” he teased, his hands still hovering ominously close.

"No," you shook your head, that twitch turning into a smirk. "I sat with you of my own free will. Trusting you. You won't jeopardise that."

The playful glint in his gaze softened slightly as he settled back, studying you with a quiet intensity. "The little rabbit may just be a fox after all," he mused, ceding his advantage.

He studied you for a good, long while, you both sitting in a comfortable silence as he traced idle patterns against your back, his thumb brushing your knee.

Finally, you swallowed your nerves, and broke the silence. "Thank you. For your help.”

You looked back to the table, eyes roaming over what he'd carved with your hand;

The name of a great warrior. He'd said. Renowned for wit, skill, and unmatched beauty.

"Runes are... actually quite beautiful."

He hummed softly in agreement.

You turned your head slightly, eyes still on the sharp lines. "What would my name look like?"

Then, you looked up at his face, and your breath caught.

His eyes were alight, faintly glittering from the flickering candle inside the artwork. Something between a smile and something far more satisfied curled onto his lips as he nodded at the runes.

"Exactly like that."

[aedearly]

✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑺.

₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of loose quotes taken from various characters from hades (supergiant games). these quotes are from the first game of the series. writing/roleplaying prompts. from fluff to angst! feel free to edit as you see fit, especially since some are gendered.

❝ i’m leaving. try and stop me. ❞ ❝ that could have gone better. ❞ ❝ why can’t you just stay? ❞ ❝ i wish you could come with me. ❞ ❝ you’re coming with me. ❞ ❝ i have to take you back. ❞ ❝ but for you, i will be making an exception. ❞ ❝ whew… they’re gone. ❞ ❝ now, come on, we got places to be! ❞ ❝ may the fates favour your journey. ❞ ❝ oh you know, i’d rather have my eyes put out, but thanks for offering! ❞ ❝ if only… ❞ ❝ you should be ashamed of yourself, and learn your place. ❞ ❝ ahh, so you are taking pity on me, then? ❞ ❝ i’m sorry that it has to be this way. ❞ ❝ you’re late. ❞ ❝ will i see you soon? ❞ ❝ did you miss me? ❞ ❝ i’m home. ❞ ❝ we’re heading home. ❞ ❝ you… came back? ❞ ❝ i hope i didn’t keep you waiting very long, did i? ❞ ❝ is something wrong? ❞ ❝ i can’t believe this. ❞ ❝ i’m in your debt. ❞ ❝ there’s going to be payback, you know. ❞ ❝ … damn you. ❞ ❝ this is for you. ❞ ❝ do you remember me? my name is—ah, nevermind. ❞ ❝ i’m not who you think i am. ❞ ❝ keep following that heart of yours. ❞ ❝ to hell with this place! ❞ ❝ fear is for the weak. ❞ ❝ oh, look at you, you poor, poor thing, you’re hurt! ❞ ❝ you’re such a sweetheart. ❞ ❝ you brought this on yourself. ❞ ❝ no need to thank me, mate. ❞ ❝ please, i don’t want to do this… ❞ ❝ you don’t have to do this… ❞ ❝ only the best for you. ❞ ❝ i hope you’re right. ❞ ❝ gods grant me strength… ❞ ❝ that is the worst idea i think i’ve ever heard. ❞ ❝ do you understand how little sense that makes? ❞ ❝ look what i found! ❞ ❝ something’s changed about the beating of your heart. ❞ ❝ no wonder they don’t like you. ❞ ❝ wish i could be there to see your face. ❞ ❝ i’ll earn your favour yet. ❞ ❝ how bad could it be? ❞ ❝ hello there, handsome. ❞ ❝ … this is the cheesiest thing i’ve heard from you. ❞ ❝ what has gotten into you? ❞ ❝ blood and darkness! ❞ ❝ lucky for you, i’ve no pride like many others here. ❞ ❝ it’s over. i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ go. away. i won’t repeat myself. ❞ ❝ i knew your heart was true. ❞ ❝ let’s kiss and make up! ❞ ❝ mischief, me? oh please! ❞ ❝ i don’t know how you can stand this kind of thing… ❞ ❝ you tried. that’s what matters. ❞ ❝ a man after my own heart… ❞ ❝ why won’t you give up? ❞ ❝ ever so stubborn, aren’t you? ❞ ❝ life and death, one and the same. ❞ ❝ you’re running from yourself. again. ❞ ❝ what do you want from me? leave me alone. we’ve nothing to discuss anymore. ❞ ❝ i cannot bring myself to stay upset with you forever. ❞ ❝ the truth is i’m a lover, not a fighter. ❞ ❝ i have to see her! ❞ ❝ so how goes wilful disobedience of late? ❞ ❝ you think all these gifts will make things go back to the way they were? ❞ ❝ we’re older now—i’d hope we’re wiser, too. ❞ ❝ i have to go. ❞ ❝ we were having such a good time! ❞ ❝ time is up. ❞ ❝ you’re so reckless. ❞ ❝ thank you for always keeping me on my toes. ❞ ❝ your luck’s run out. ❞ ❝ i don’t know why i bother with you, honestly. ❞ ❝ may i call you my friend? ❞ ❝ i’d like to make a toast, to you! ❞ ❝ no need for special thanks. ❞ ❝ i’ve some memories i’m not quite ready to give up on yet. ❞ ❝ i’ll break your heart. ❞

[esmereldapearl]

Random head-cannons for PJO (again):

- Nico loves music videos— like Lady Gaga’s Paparazzi MTV performance he would love. (Maybe too because if Lady Gaga played during his stay at the casino, it might remind him of good memories with his older sister.)

- Hazel has met Bianca. I like to think that Bianca sat with her before leaving because Nico was coming to save Hazel. Like Bianca knew that was her sister the same way Nico knew— but Bianca sort of knew it would happen but wanted to meet Hazel— have a sibling relationship with Hazel. (This is leading into AU stuff) I feel like Hazel wouldn’t know until she found a random photo of her when going through some of Nico’s stuff he had as a kid.

- I feel like Will is the type of character for when something insane happens this is his reaction:

Percy: Hey man, so uh, during Harleys maze, I may or may not have broken like- two bones? One is my arm, the other is Annabeth’s ankle.

Will: *one eye twitches as he sort of half glare, half not yet still shocked* Mkay Percy.

(Like just imagine Will on his last straw, that’s how I imagine this)

- Kayla and Michael were really close. Lee and Will were also very close.

- Michael hid a safe in the infirmary that had files and stuff that he wanted hidden— also like random possessions and letters/ stuff from Lee except nobody could find it and then when they did find it nobody knew the code. Kayla did some digging and found the code. (They refused to let anybody try to break the safe or have Hermes cabin try to pick the lock)

- I have quite a few headcannons for Kayla even though she hasn’t been seen much throughout the books. I feel like one of the bigger ones I have is that she has two older siblings who are twins- very random, but she doesn’t really have a cannon backstory (yet?).

- Once the Apollo cabin realizes that Nico has not seen like— a lot of pop culture stuff and Disney movies, they force him to watch a lot of them.

- Everyone, including Nico, forgets that Nico was born in like the 1930/1940s until they bring up some big historical fact and he’s like:

Will: Ya’ll up for watching this rocket take off? You can see it from our cabin, it’s gonna go to the moon.

Nico: What do you mean to the moon?

Will: ??? Wait do you not know about the moon landing?

Nico: PEOPLE HAVE GONE TO SPACE???

(This is the only historical event I could think of for some reason)

- Nico would 100% love video games and love like a 3DS

- Hazel cusses— like a lot— mostly when she’s annoyed/angry though.

- Frank is good with younger campers. He likes to reassure them that it’ll be okay and try’s to make them laugh

- Nico is less emo/dark and more just- random? I don’t think he has a set style, nor do I think he’s gloomy— I think of him more like a combo of Sam and Sebastian from Stardew Valley.

- Nico likes to hangout in the infirmary and goof off with Kayla and Austin. Will’s glad they get along

- Lee or Michael had set a rule where you can’t hang from the beams in the ceiling— Kayla disregards the rule quite a bit.

- Will 100% has a southern accent— not like a full blown accent but it mixes with his daily speech. Like specific words and phrases bring the accent back.

- Hazel and Nico like to draw— both have completely different styles though, and Nico draws more often while Hazel experiments with art.

- Hazel (and Nico) likes to visit Nico and talk to her brother often- so they hangout like once a month and talk very often. I feel like after Leo would create some device/adapter to make it so monsters wouldn’t attack every time you sent a text, they’d text more often than Iris message. (Ik not everyone has the best relationships w/their siblings but my sister and I are like this so I promise I’m speaking from experience lol) like every piece of gossip/major event, every “what would you do in this situation”, etc

Hazel: OMG NICO

Nico: WHAT???

Hazel: PERCY AND ANNABETH ARE ENGAGED— YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE HOW.

Nico: OH GODS.

[serpentarius]

can I just say that the “could be nothing” epidemic of us devil’s minioners re: every interaction between older Daniel and Armand is so dear to me. Like I KNOW it’s not gonna be for nothing but I GET where we’re coming from. Like it very possibly is something. But it also could be nothing yknow???

[geekygeckogeeks]

Sooo i just watched the new trailer/ teaser, I know I’m a bit late by like 16 hours but in an around three minute video I ended up taking 79 screenshots.

(My storage hates me and I will end up deleting like half).

but anyway if anyone cares my favourite screenshots are under the cut :D

Me waking me Freind up at 3am to talk about my latest hyper fixation :)

Me at 5am explaining all the Intreacies of my hyper fixation to my freind :D

Wow he just yeets her.

Basically their entire relationship :)

T-Pose to assert dominance.

The fact she dodges it oh my god the amount of detail put in a single trailer.

My honest reaction when someone stumbles in on my unfinished work tbh.

Ladies and gentleman, her. So glad she got her well deserved dialogue :)

Andddd that’s all I can fit on this post, if I feel like it I’ll post the rest later :D

Byeeee

[starkwlkr]

happy life, happy wife | hugh jackman

an: “you attract what you fear” GUYS IM SO SCARED OF A 55 YEAR OLD AUSTRALIAN 😭 definitely thinking about making marvel actress!reader x hugh an actual series… i have ideas

marvel actress!reader

Deadpool & Wolverine Press tour - Hot Ones

Hugh felt like he was going to die. Each wing was getting hotter and hotter, but immediately when he heard his wife’s name he forgot all about the spice.

“Hugh, your wife is part of the Avengers, how does it feel having your wife be part of such a huge franchise? Have you two talked about a potential team up with the X-men and the Avengers?” Sean asked.

“My wife . . . Oh god, I think I’m crying-”

“I can’t tell if you’re legitimately dying or completely in love with your wife.” Ryan told Hugh.

“Wait . . I am completely in love with my wife and I would legitimately die for her.” Hugh gasped as he rearranged Ryan’s words.

“Is that in the contract she made you sign when you married her? ‘I vow to die for you’. My contract said I had to give all my money to my kids and wife.” Ryan said.

“No, she’s amazing, um, if I start talking about her I think I might go on for hours,” he laughed. “Our kids do want to see their parents fighting the bad guys together. We would love to team up, maybe it could happen.” Hugh smiled.

“The entire movie would be them making out and her beating the shit out of you. I’d pay to see that.” Ryan added.

•••

Comic Con 2024

Like RDJ, your last Marvel movie had been Avengers: Endgame. After being in ten mcu films, it was time to say goodbye to your character.

But that was in 2019.

At this years comic con, you were back. The cast of Deadpool & Wolverine had taken the stage and showed their appreciation for the fans. After their panel, it was time to announce Marvel’s upcoming projects. Kevin Feige announced the Fantastic Four, Thunderbolts, Captain America 4, and finally the new Avengers movies, which everyone was extremely excited about.

After showing the title card for the upcoming Avengers film, Kevin turned to the audience.

“Something people have been asking, as of late, is who the heck is going to direct these two movies?” The audience clapped.

From the side of the stage, you were nervous. What if the fans didn’t like the idea of you directing the next two Avengers films? Your worrying caused Hugh to come to your rescue.

“Hey, they loved you as an Avenger, they will love you even more.” Hugh kissed your forehead. “If anyone says anything about this decision, they have me to deal with.”

You laughed at his words. “I really love you so much.”

“Love you too, bub.” Hugh was about to kiss you when Ryan cut in.

“I really love us too. I convinced half of the people here that we’re a throuple.” He said in the most serious tone ever.

Kevin announced you as the director. Your doubt of the fans not liking the announcement was proven wrong when you walked the stairs to the stage and stood next to Kevin. They cheered when they saw you were back.

As you said a few words, thanking Marvel, Kevin and the fans, you were being recorded by Hugh, who was being recorded by Ryan.

“That’s my wife!” Hugh cheered from backstage, holding his phone in his hand.

“She’s Marvel Jesus now, holy shit!”

•••

WIRED autocomplete interview

“Is Hugh Jackman married?”

“Yes, to me, Y/n, probably to half the population,” Ryan answered. “He’s Australia’s biggest slut.”

“All the times, I proposed.” Hugh laughed. “But yes, I am married and I love my wife very much. She’s stuck with me forever.” He lifted his hand to show off the wedding band.

“Funny, because she texted me right now. Her and Blake are in the courthouse getting married. So Deadpool three was actually made so our wives could divorce us and marry each other.”

[likeumeanit9497]

like a pornstar | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when y/n, chris' best friend, confesses that she has never finished during sex, he decides to change that

warnings: smut; oral (fem receiving); unprotected p in v; dirty talk; established friendship; squirting; 18+

notes: back again with a friends with benefits smut (shh im manifesting). i hope the chris girlies enjoy, and matt girlies don't worry my next one shot is for u ;) love y'all <33333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“Hey! You’re gonna eat all the popcorn! Give me some.” I exclaimed before snatching the half eaten bag of popcorn from Chris’ grasp. He tried to say something in a rebuttal, but all he got through his mouthful of popcorn was garbled words and a slight spray of kernels. “Oh god, you’re foul.” I said jokingly before wrapping my leg around his to lighten my words. “Just hush, I can’t hear the show.”

Chris and I had been best friends since elementary school, and had always had a bond like no other. When he had moved out to California a few years ago, I had really struggled with the loss of seeing him practically everyday. But since then, I had been able to come out and visit him multiple times, and it was so exciting to have him show me the new life that him and his brothers had built for themselves on the other side of the country.

In the past, each time I had visited him in Los Angeles the weather had been amazing, so I had forced Chris to explore all over the city with me. However, this visit had been nothing but rain, so him and I had done little more than what we were doing right now: curling up under the covers with some snacks and a couple joints, binge watching all of our favourite shows from high school. We were currently re-watching Euphoria — one of my all time favourite shows — as a light trickle of rain acted as background noise.

As we worked through our snacks, the scene where Maddy and Nate’s relationship dynamic is described played. I popped a handful of popcorn in my mouth, relishing in the nostalgic feeling that the show brought me, as the scene continued on to describe how Maddy watched porn to study how she should look and sound during sex. As the character arched her back on her bed, her eyes plastered to a device playing porn, I let out a small chuckle.

“What?” Chris turned to me with a confused smile. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” I replied, shaking my head and shoving more popcorn into my mouth to stifle my ridiculous laughter. “Brooo, tell me.” He whined, grabbing my shoulder and shaking it jokingly. I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. “Oh my god, fine! I was just laughing because I used to do that.” I finally responded, and Chris turned to me and raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Wait, what?” He brought a fistful of candy to his mouth. “I used to study porn too, not to get off on it or anything, just to like know what I was supposed to do.” I admitted, feeling my cheeks grow warm as Chris just stared blankly at me.

Finally, Chris blinked a few times, pulling himself out of his blank stare to resume eating snacks. “I don’t understand that honestly,” He began, reaching his hand into the popcorn bag between my legs, “I feel like when you’re in the moment all of those sounds and movements and stuff come naturally, don’t they?” I shrugged before responding. “Not for me, to be honest. I’ve never really had any sort of sexual interaction that made me feel good enough to act and sound like a porn star.” I chuckled, keeping the conversation lighthearted. This wasn’t the first time Chris and I had talked about our sexual experiences, so I felt comfortable being honest with him.

But when I fixed my gaze back onto him, I was met with a confused expression. “So does that mean you’ve never…” He dragged out his sentence, seemingly too afraid to complete it, so I saved him the trouble and answered his unfinished question with a solemn shake of my head. At this, his eyebrows shot up in what seemed to be total shock, complete with a dropped jaw. “You’re not serious, Y/n.” He said simply, and I once again shrugged my shoulders. “I mean it’s pretty common for girls to not be able to finish during sex, you know that.” I replied, to which he titled his head to the side and looked off into the distance.

“I guess so, but I’ve personally never ran into that problem before.” He replied, a cheeky smile taking over his face, and I rolled my eyes. “Oh Jesus, well too bad not all men are the Christopher Sturniolo.” I joked, unintentionally stroking his ego before refocusing my gaze on the show. The room was silent for a brief moment, both of us back to watching the show, before Chris spoke up again. “I just think that’s really fucked up. Sex should make both people involved feel good.” I wrapped my leg tighter around his. “Well aren’t you a crowd pleaser.” I joked. Turning to once again face him, I was expecting to be met with his classic grin. But instead, his face was serious; his mouth was set in a straight line and his blue eyes had darkened.

His expression was one I rarely saw, but it made my stomach tighten subconsciously. My throat suddenly felt extremely dry, and I couldn’t speak. My breath hitched when Chris brought a hand under the covers and placed it gently on my bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin. And my head began to spin when he shifted his body so that he was completely facing me. “You know, I bet I could make you sound like a porn star.” His poker face was finally replaced with a smirk, this one much more sinister than the one that I usually saw cross his face. He used his hand on my thigh to guide my legs open before brushing a finger just barely against my clothed heat; causing me to gasp. He leaned closer to my frame, already quivering in anticipation, and nibbled gently at my earlobe before whispering.

“Let me make you feel good, Y/n.”

He kept his mouth right there against my ear as he waited for a response, and I could feel his rapid breaths against my skin. My brain was in shambles, and I couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Chris and I had been best friends for so long, but not once had things turned sexual. This was completely uncharted territory for me, and I couldn’t imagine it ending well. But, his hand that was resting in between my trembling thighs and his whispered proposition had already caused my panties to grow damp, so I threw all of my sensibility away by grabbing his jaw, drawing his face to mine, and crashing my lips onto his.

Immediately, Chris worked his lips against mine. They moved in sync as his tongue slipped into my mouth with ease; dancing around my own and filling me with more desire. He brought his other hand under the covers to grab onto my other thigh, where he squeezed harshly before using his grip to pull me up on top of him. Still attacking my mouth with his, he rubbed his hands up and down my body as I straddled him, taking care to focus his attention on my more sensitive parts.

He broke the kiss briefly to pull my oversized t-shirt over my head, before taking a moment to admire my bare chest in his direct line of sight. Without hesitation, he attached his mouth to one of my tits, nibbling and swirling his tongue around my sensitive nipples; causing my body to break out in goosebumps from the sensation. After he took his time on the first, he moved his mouth onto the second, and the new contact caused me to subconsciously grind my pelvis against his thigh; eliciting a moan from me. My erotic sound caused his eyes to shoot open, looking up at my face, before he detached his mouth from my tit to speak. “Real moan?” He asked, his lips swollen, and I nodded my head before grinding my hips against him once more. “F-feels good.” I mumbled, and at that he readjusted himself so that he was sitting up against the headboard; giving me more stability.

“Then keep doing that. Wanna see you feeling good.” He replied, shifting my body so that my core could press right up against the highest point of his thigh. I didn’t hesitate long before resuming my movements, this time moving at a much faster pace; losing myself to the sheer pleasure that the friction of his pants granted me. Chris’ mouth reattached to my nipples, but his eyes never left mine as he took in all of my contorted facial expressions and soft moans. He allowed his lips to travel along my chest up to my neck, where he suckled gently before muttering. “I don’t want you to fake anything, baby, just want you to tell me when it feels good and when it doesn’t. Okay?” I nodded my head frantically, squinting my eyes from the overwhelming pleasure I was feeling.

I looked down to where my body was writhing against him, and even through my shorts and panties I had left a dark patch from my arousal against his grey sweats. Rolling my eyes to the back of my head in bliss, I had never before grown that wet during sex before. I felt my legs begin to weaken around his thigh, and an overwhelming feeling begin to bubble up inside of me. I knew it was my orgasm approaching, but I was hit with a sudden wave of nervousness that was preventing me from reaching it.

“C-Chris, I can’t,” I panted out, and his eyes were immediately on mine. “You can’t what?” He replied, gripping my ass with both hands and helping me grind myself against him. “C-can’t finish.” I replied honestly, feeling my eyes well up with frustrated tears. I had never felt this good in bed with someone before, and still, I couldn’t get myself to cum. “Hey hey, it’s okay,” Chris used his grip on me to stop my movements completely, “It’s an overwhelming feeling, it’s sometimes hard to give in to it.” He brought a hand up to my cheek and stroked it affectionately. “Lie down here.” He patted the space in the bed where I had previously been, and I obliged, resting my head against the pillow.

Once I settled myself, Chris crawled on top of me, resting his weight on one arm. He began kissing me again, this time much slower than the first, and once my heart rate began to slow I took it upon myself to deepen the kiss; pulling his bottom lip gently with my teeth. This elicited a deep moan from Chris, and I felt him grind his clothed member against my core before dragging his mouth down my jaw and neck; leaving harsh kisses in its trail. I watched through droopy eyelids as Chris’ body traveled down my own, and my breathing increased once again when he reached the waistband of my shorts. He toyed with the band for a moment, slipping two fingers under the material before looking back up at me.

“I just want you to relax, lay there, and tell me when you feel good. Can you do that Y/n?” His voice was soft, but it was the unmistakable undertone of gruff arousal laced through it that caused my stomach to flip. I nodded quickly, bringing a hand to his forehead and brushing a few stray hairs back. “Okay.” I replied, causing him to smirk before slowly pulling my shorts and thong down my legs. Once my clothing was completely discarded, Chris encouraged my knees to bend and spread my legs open; exposing my dripping heat completely. “Hmm, so pretty Y/n.” He said lowly, taking in the glistening folds just centimetres from his face.

I watched as he dropped soft kisses along my outer folds before using his hands to spread me open slightly. His mouth inched closer and closer to my aching core, and when he finally connected to it I released a shaky moan. Immediately, he used his tongue to expertly manipulate my clit, causing me to see stars almost instantly. It was clear by his movements that he knew what he was doing, and I had to grip onto his messy curls in order to keep myself in place as he continued. “Is that good baby?” He asked against my bundle of nerves, moving one of his hands from my folds down to my entrance, teasing it in circles as he waited for a response.

“S-so good Chrissy.” I managed to get out before he reattached his lips, this time slowly plunging a digit into me as he continued; causing my hips to buck. “Shh, stay still honey.” He mumbled, still working his tongue and fingers in sync against my heat. The combination of his tongue against my clit and his finger plunging up into my g-spot was staggering, and I was once again feeling the undeniable signs of an upcoming orgasm. Every inch of my skin felt like it was being set on fire, and the pressure in my lower stomach was so intense, it felt like I was going to pee.

I had reached orgasms on my own before, but none had ever had a build up as intense as the one I was currently feeling with Chris. I felt like I could explode, but still, I was struggling to let go once again. “C-Chris, I d-don’t think I — I don’t think I c-can do it.” I cried out, gripping onto his hair like my life depended on it. At this, Chris added a second finger and increased his speed. “Yes you can baby, I know you can. Just breathe and let your body do what it knows to do.” I squeezed my eyes shut from the pressure, and did as he said and released shaky breaths. His movements had the same level of intensity as before, but there was an unspoken level of desperation to them now; clear indication that he wanted to get me there.

Even though it seemed impossible, the pressure inside of me kept getting stronger and stronger. My legs were shaking on either side of his head, and my breaths came out as guttural moans. I felt my body detach from my brain, and I knew I had lost all control over what was going to happen. Just then, the strongest orgasm I had ever felt completely engulfed me, and I could do nothing but cry out in pleasure. My back arched off of the bed, overwhelmed by the extreme sensation. Feverish, strings of erotic notes fell from my mouth, and they could barely be heard over the ringing in my ears.

Mouth agape, I watched in awe as the pressure in my stomach was finally relieved by a rush of fluid shooting from my core. At this, Chris murmured “Oh fuck.” before detaching his lips from my clit and swiftly rubbing it; spraying my fluid all over his face and exposed tongue. My orgasm rippled through me like a tsunami, and left me in a figurative and literal puddle once it died down. Once he drank up all my juices, Chris planted a soft kiss against my clit before dragging his body up mine.

Once he was face to face with me, he gave me a deep kiss. “How was that?” He whispered with a grin on his wet face. Still catching my breath, all I could do was nod. He played with my hair for a moment, tranquility clear on his face, before he suddenly shifted his weight and began climbing off of me. “W-wait.” I said, grabbing hold of his waistband and stopping his movements. He looked down at me with a confused expression, and I wordlessly moved my hand to his crotch, where I was met with what seemed like a painfully hard member. “You’re not gonna fuck me?” I asked, batting my eyelashes innocently as I watched his taken aback expression.

In the blink of an eye, his face darkened once again and he returned to his position above me. “You want me to?” He asked, his face buried in my neck where he peppered it with soft kisses. “Mhmm.” I hummed, using my hand to palm him through his sweats. At that, Chris didn’t hesitate to pull his pants down, leaving his cock exposed. I gasped at its size that had been somewhat disguised when it was still concealed in his sweats, but began pumping my hand up and down as he shuddered in pleasure.

Attaching his lips back onto mine, Chris grabbed onto his shaft and lined it up with my opening. He slid it up and down my folds a few times to collect whatever was left of my previous orgasm, before slowly sliding into me. I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his impressive girth, and we both moaned in unison once he bottomed out. He stayed still for a moment, allowing me to adjust to him, before he began slamming his hips into me.

With his forehead resting against mine, he watched me as I contorted my face into expressions of pleasure, relishing in the feeling of being filled by him. His gruff breathing and occasional deep moans were like music to my ears, and I dug my nails into his bare shoulders to keep him close. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good around me. Not gonna last long.” He groaned, using one of his arms to wrap my leg around his waist. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, and I felt his member slam into my g-spot repeatedly; causing my stomach to fill with that familiar sensation. “Oh god Chris, you’re s-so big.” My voice was coming out squeaky as he continued to pound into me, and he released a harsh moan in response.

I lost myself in the waves of pleasure as they hit me, growing closer to my second orgasm with each of his powerful thrusts. Chris’ gaze on me was so full of lust — clenched jaw, droopy eyes, lower lip trapped in between his teeth — I would have collapsed from its magnitude if I wasn’t already lying down. His motion suddenly shifted from one that was hard and fast to one that was deep and slow, and I couldn’t help but release sharp gasps on each thrusts.

I could tell that I was close to my second orgasm, but he was closer. His breathing was growing more and more rapid, his pace was sloppier, and beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead. As if he was reading my mind, he moaned out. “I-I’m close, want you to cum with me.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head, his words already getting me closer to my high, but I knew I needed to get there faster.

Reaching between us, I found my clit and began rubbing it vigorously. Chris’ eyes followed my hand, and when he realized what I was doing he smirked proudly. “Atta girl.” My action seemed to give him a bit more energy, as his movements began picking up the pace once again; and I found myself on the edge of another orgasm. “Ah fuck, Chris, gonna cum again.” I cried out through my gasps for air just before my second orgasm hit me like a freight train. I felt my walls contract around his swollen member, and that was enough for him to reach his high as well.

Gripping tightly onto my shoulder, Chris plunged his twitching cock in and out of me; driving both of us through our orgasms. I gasped when I felt his fluid shoot deep into me, and savoured the verbal confirmation of his pleasure in my ear. Our moans flew from our mouths in harmony, and it was only once his body stilled above me that I removed my hand from my clit.

We stayed in that position for what could have been hours, catching our breath and falling into the lethargic temperament that always came after sex. Finally, Chris lifted his weight off of me and slid his softening dick out from my core, offering me an apprehensive smile. He stood up and walked into his washroom, coming back over to the bed with a towel to help clean up the mess in between my legs before doing the same to his member. Once I no longer felt like a bowl of jello, I sat up on the bed beside him.

“Well?” He asked, his tone playful as he wiggled his eyebrows awaiting my response. I rolled my eyes before grabbing my top and throwing it over my head. “Would you believe me if I said I faked all of that?” I asked, unable to keep the smile that was toying with the corners of my mouth at bay. He blew air out of his mouth and looked up at the ceiling. “Absolutely not.” He replied, and I laughed. “I hate to gas you up like this, but that really was amazing.” I finally said honestly, resting my head on his bare shoulder.

He chuckled before grabbing my hand and stroking it gently. “Glad to be of service.” He replied, removing his hand from mine and instead wrapping his arm around me completely. “You turned into my little porn star there for a minute.” He followed it up by making high pitched moan sounds, mocking me and breaking the wave of silence that had followed his last comment. I laughed, lifting my head off of his shoulder and coming face-to-face with his goofy smile. “You ever use that against me in the future and I will bite your head off.” I replied, shoving his shoulder gently. “I won’t, swear. But you can use me again in the future if you wish. Y’know, in case you ever want to cum like that again.”

My jaw dropped at his filthy words, but I couldn’t help but feel heat flood to my core once again. Smirking, I raised one quizzical eyebrow. “One more?” I asked, and watched as his face was overtaken by a smirk that mirrored my own. “Lay down and put your legs on my shoulders.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[luveline]

grumpy hotch x pregnant reader where he is just having an off day and the team calls reader in to deal with him and as soon she arrives in his office he just holds her and her belly as she scratches his scalp omg 🥹😭🫶🏻

You’re lounging in your husband's favourite chair with a book and an ice cold soda in your hand when your phone rings. You almost knock your tooth out pulling it up to your face without looking, wanting it to be Aaron, knowing it probably won’t be. Maternity leave can be excruciatingly boring. 

“Hello?” you ask. Your book slides down your bump. You pull it back up. 

“Hi, mom.”  

You grin to yourself. “Hi, Emily. Please tell me you’re calling because you miss me and you know I have cabin fever.” 

“I’m calling because someone misses you.” Her ire tone is unmissable and ever endearing. “I do miss you, I can’t wait for you to have your stinking baby and come back to work.” 

“That would be fun, right? We’ll get Hotch on paternity leave.” 

“It’s him I’m calling about.” 

“Is he okay?” you ask. You know if he were injured she would’ve mentioned that first. You’re not so scared of his being grumpy. 

“Moody as ever. I can’t believe I’m asking you to, but would you consider coming in for lunch? I’ll send a car, no walking, but he could really use it. He’s been biting off heads all morning.” Emily laughs down the line. “You’re the only one who can cheer him up.” 

It’s not true, but you are usually the quickest. You bid Emily goodbye with a promise to be there soon and get dressed, with no choice but to wear some maternity pants and a peplum blouse. Any excuse to see your haggard husband is one you’ll take. 

You look at your bump and you love the baby in there, but it feels weird sometimes to see yourself differently. If Aaron weren’t as nice about it as he is, you would’ve broken down by now; he’s sussed many breakdowns before they could begin, kissed fingertips and collars promising you’re just as pretty as always. And it’s reassuring, but it isn’t pretty that worries you. You’re a genuine walking beach ball right now. 

The car Emily promises is none other than Anderson himself. “He’s bullying you?” you ask him. 

He doesn’t say yes or no, but his smile is enough of a clue. You can’t get to the BAU quick enough (though you’re slower these days), pushing open the glass door with a tired sign. 

Spencer comes across you first by coincidence. “Hey!” he says, ushering you in for a hug, his cup of coffee hot behind your shoulder. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.” 

“He’s in a mood,” you say. Not without fondness. 

Spencer grimaces. “Sort of.” 

Emily attacks you from the side. “Thank god you’re here! I think he just told Morgan to go fuck himself,” she says under her breath. 

She’s just saying it to make you laugh, and it works. It’s vaguely out of character, but if you know Emily, you know she has a crass, often dirty-minded side, and it’s been a while since you’ve heard her swear. You’re still giggling when the door you’d been making your way to opens. 

Aaron emerges with an expression half bemusement and half confusion. “Honey?” 

“My love,” you say, too quiet for him to properly hear, but he can read lips just fine. 

He rushes in a very gentlemanly display down the steps to help you up them, but you’d only been going up them to see him, and you stop at the foot of them with your hand raised to his elbow. “Hey, handsome.” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Nothing. Just missed you, wanted to have dinner, and I figured you couldn’t say no. You know.” You touch your tummy. “Considering.” 

He peers suspiciously past your head. “Yeah?” 

You look where he’s looking, find Emily and Spencer not so subtly turned away. You laugh again, pleased when the sound makes him smile. “Come on. Take me to your office.” 

He puts a hand behind your shoulders and leads you upstairs to his office. There are papers strewn haphazard across the front of the desk, his briefcase open and muddled, his pen lost within the mess. You’re smug knowing he’d been knee deep in paperwork but abandoned it all when he heard you laughing, like he just couldn’t miss it. 

“Let me sit you down,” he says. 

“Woah, slow your roll. Why are you stressed?” 

He blinks at you. “There’s a lot to do?” 

“Sure, but why are you stressed about me? I can sit down by myself.” 

He must look at you for five whole seconds without saying a word, and the door’s not closed, there’s no answer to your question, and then he takes you into his arms for a hug. “I know you can,” he says. 

It’s admittedly hard to hug him with the bump between you. You worry you’re hurting him as your cheeks press together, crushing his shoulders under your hands. 

He usually asks first, but he knows by now that you’re two halves of the same heart, two sides of the same coin, his hand slipping between you both to nudge aside your shirt and feel your stomach. 

You close your eyes. 

“Rough day?” you ask. 

“A lot to do…” His face moves down into your neck. 

You know what he wants, moving your hand to the back of his head to thread your fingers into his hair. “I can fix it,” you say sympathetically, beginning a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp. 

“How’s that?” 

“If I go into labour right now, you get a reprieve.” 

“Honey, in the most loving sense possible, you going into labour now would not be ideal.” 

“It’s gonna happen one day, babe. And you’re gonna be just as busy then. You need to take less on or–”

“No, I know.” 

His hand slides still under your shirt to your hip, encouraging you away from him, his eyes flitting up and down your figure, checking you over. You let your hand fall to his shoulder, fingertips interested in the starchy fabric of a new suit. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly, dipping down to give you a kiss. His eyes are dark, so close. “That helped. What can I get you for dinner?” 

You give a fond, pitying smile. You’re not gonna get him out of this office today, that’s for sure. “Half your sandwich, probably.” 

He kisses you again. You take it for a thank you. 

[tiza0925]

Hello! I'm new to this but have you ever thought about any of your favorite characters while they're in the act and you look down at a certain part and they're so big on you that it scares you but they're pretty sure it could fit.I don't know if you could write something like that, sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.

hellooo, absolutely love this prompt so much ty for this ♡

men that make it fit | 18+

warnings/tags: nsfw, afab/female!reader, size difference, fingering, pet names, praise kink, squirting, raw sex, implied multiple orgasms, large cocks ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Big men who just cover your entire body with theirs when they’re on top of you. 

Guys who make you feel so small when you’re on their lap, their hands are so damn big that they can cover your entire waist, legs, and hands—practically engulfing you. 

Big men that just pin you to the mattress while making out with you, they’re so strong without needing to try, and you probably should feel scared by the difference in strengths but god—you feel so secure. 

And you know he’ll take care of you even if he can hurt you sometimes—never on purpose unless you want it—because of how massive he is. 

Guys who feel just a little bad when they hear you cry from them pushing their thick fingers inside you—stretching your poor cunt and making you leak all over his hand as he curls his fingers inside your plush walls, coaxing out a throbbing orgasm from you. 

“Such a sweet little thing for me,” You hear him murmur, watching as your face twists with pleasure, and he can see the slight worry in your eyes as he fucks you with his fingers. “My baby is taking me so well already.” 

But can you take his cock? 

Fuck—what if it’s too big? 

It must be—his fingers are already too much for you—his dick will be nearly impossible to fit inside you. 

“You think you can be good and take my cock?” You whine, feeling heady and muddy as he pins both of your hands above your head on the bed, while his other hand continues to twist and curl inside you, his thumb pressing and rubbing your swollen clit. “I want to feel my favourite pussy, sweetheart.” 

But you suck in a shaky breath, eyes wide and scared because you know you can’t fit all of him in, and he chuckles breathlessly as he kisses your lips so softly, making you melt against him. 

“Don’t be scared,” He kisses your cheek, then gives your trembling lower lip a gentle pull with his mouth, trying to get you relaxed as he strums his fingers through your sopping folds, his voice low and deceptively soothing. “I’ll be gentle with you, okay?” 

He always is—and that’s the thing. 

No matter how gentle he tries to be—he still ends up stretching you so wide that you think you might actually split in half, the sting of him inside you being too much that you cry sometimes.

He kisses you, and reassures you, hand running up and down your body to spread goosebumps all over your skin. 

Then he’s pushing his pants off to let his fat cock bounce free—it lands on your belly, all hot and heavy, and your breath hitches as electricity sparks through your body—and your heart rate doubles with every passing moment, just waiting for him to stuff you with his cock. 

“Relax for me,” He says while guiding his dick to slide between your plush pussy, letting your slick folds hug his length and coat them in juices as he rocks his hips—his cock head bumping against your clit every time his hips are flushed against yours. 

“You feel that, baby?” Your lashes flutter, your eyes half-lidded as he works you up, making your cunt pulse as he glides his heavy cock over it. “You’re gonna be so good and fit all of me, okay?” 

You gulp, but you still nod—because you want to be good for him. 

You want to feel him and make him feel good. 

And he watches you, focused, taking in every twitch of your features as he slowly pushes the head of his dick inside you—his eyes alight with heat when he sees the way your mouth pops open with a gasp, already feeling the intense stretch of him. 

“You’re okay, baby,” he shushes you, sliding his hands under your thighs to guide them around his waist, and you whine as you hook your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, sloppily kissing him as he waits for you to adjust. “You feel so tight already—fuck—”

He groans, his voice vibrating against you, and you begin to breathe heavily as he pushes his fat cock into you—making you feel every agonizing inch as your pussy struggles to swallow him whole. 

“I—“ Your sentence gets cut short as you choke, already feeling him in your lungs and he’s only halfway in, “I can’t—”

“You can,” One of his hands comes up to swipe a fallen tear on your cheek with his thumb, while his other hand pins you to the bed by the waist. “I know you can, baby, you always did before.”

Which is true—you always did but—

It’s just so fucking big—holy shit—

You bite your lip, and your eyes squeeze shut as you try your hardest to relax—your fluids being pushed out as he lodges his dick inside your warm, plush walls, causing a wet mess all over your thighs and bed. 

You hold him as if you’re clinging onto dear life—taking all of him as he kisses you through it—until his hips finally press against your ass, his cock so deep that your limbs grow numb and you swear you can orgasm already. 

“There you go, sweetheart,” He purrs, waiting a moment as your pussy throbs around him, feeling abused and soaked, and he smiles down at you so achingly soft. “Taking me all like a good girl for me.” 

Then he pulls back—

“Oh god—” And you keen when he rocks his hips forward, sliding his cock along your walls, and he sets a pace of fucking you—getting you wet and your eyes to roll back as he becomes greedy with your pussy. 

“Look, baby,” He grunts, thrusting his cock in and out, his length coming out slick and creamy from your arousal, and he grips your face—fingers squishing your cheeks—to make you look down. “Look how well you’re taking me.” 

Your vision is foggy, you’re barely able to comprehend anything except for the dick inside your sore cunt, and you blink blearily as you try to look at what he wants you to see and—

Fuck.

You watch the way his cock disappears into your pussy, his girth forcing its way into you—and you let out a shaky breath at the way you’re taking it all in. 

Just like he said you would. 

“Told you I’ll make it fit, sweetheart, I always do,” You hear him murmur, and you force yourself to relax into a ragged breath as your limps melt into the mattress beneath you.

You feel like you’re being split in half as he fucks you over and over, bringing you higher and higher until you’re cumming all over him—gushing out liquid as you squirt on his cock with a wet moan, his name on your tongue—

And he takes good care of you throughout it all. His aftercare overwhelms you with cuddles of love and affirmation.

He loves you too much, anyway.

End.

Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, Atsumu, Suna, Gojo, Choso, Sakusa, Geto, Sukuna, Nanami, Akaza, Oda, Kuroo, Hinata, plus any of your fav characters ♡

Masterpost

[jerriisspeakingnow]

Can’t believed I watched an entire 12 episode season of anime only for my favorite character to end up being a guy named Chris.

[thegoogoomuckkk]

dirty laundry pt. 1 -> the jjk characters & what turns them on -> choso kamo, kento nanami, kiyotaka ijichi, satoru gojo, sukuna ryomen, toji fushiguro

it’s no secret, not to you & not to anyone else, that choso liked to be praised. not even just sexually; compliments, even if they weren’t always too sincere, went straight to his heart. your compliments specifically, went straight to his dick. if he had a tail, it’d wag constantly in your presence, especially hard when you called him a “good boy.” this was true of all situations, but there was something primal about him when he was kissing your cervix with the mushroom tip of his cock, holding on to your waist for dear life as he rutted up into you, & he hears you say “f-feels so good, cho, right there, god, it’s so good, you’re such a good boy.” it’s stronger than any drug, & it gets him drunker than any alcohol. he’ll do damn near anything to hear you say it again. 

it’s animalistic, this caveman quality in nanami & he’s so ashamed by it, the guilt drives him mad, but it’s when you’re like this, sitting on top of him, falling all over the hard plane of his chest, as he lifts your hips over & over that he just can’t seem to care. it comes from deep within him, the urge to throw you on the bed & have his way with you, which is so strange so atypical of nanami who is always so reserved, so in control of himself. but he loses that sense of control when you’re begging him oh so sweetly: “please, ‘ken, you–ngh–you’re so deep, too deep.” good, he thinks to himself, that’s how he wants it. & he wants to see the outline of his cock through the soft skin of your stomach, & he likes to fold you in half, fucking into you from behind, you knees not even on the bed anymore, & he needs to watch—wide-eyed & entranced—as his thick cock spreads out your little hole, listening to you whimper with each deep thrust.

it’s relatively easy to overstimulate kiyotaka; everything about him is so sensitive, mentally & physically. so when he’s panting & whining, coming down from the high of fucking your fist, & he feels your hand resume its ministrations, squeezing the base of his cock, fingers sliding over his wet tip, hands cupping his balls, he’s all but cumming again. & cum again he does. kiyotaka is such a sweet beggar, which is why you’re never surprised when he’s begging you to stop; but if he really wanted you to stop, well, he has a word for that, & yet he never uses it because, of course he doesn’t want you to stop, not when it feels “so good, s’too good, gonna cum, c-can’t can’t take it, can’t take it, please, please, plea–”

it’s not something that happens often & maybe that’s why gojo fucking loves it so much. absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? it’s not until he’s pulled two or three all-nighters, gone on mission after mission, skipped meals, not showered, etc. that you’re finally too tired & too upset with him to wait up for him again tonight. when he comes home, he sees you in your bed & any thoughts of dinner or a shower fly right the fuck out the window because he just has to have you. his favorite is when you don’t wake up at all, when he’s giving it to you all soft & sweet & he’s just so sure that you’re having the best dream of your life. he's mouthing at your breasts, leaving a trail of drool across your entire torso, fingers massaging your hips, your waist, your nipples. but of course he enjoys it when you wake up too, when he’s three fingers deep & you whine particularly loudly, waking up all of a sudden, “‘toru, toru please, feels so good, it’s too much, gonna cum, can I cum?” of course you can, silly, that’s all he really wanted anyway; he’s just missed his sweet girl & the taste of her cum on his fingers when he’s licking them all clean. 

shockingly, sukuna loves to mark his property like a dog pissing on a tree. . .psst, pretend to be shocked. at first, it was small little hickeys on your inner thighs, maybe a scratch mark here or there, rarely ever visible. but all it took was a simple thrown out phrase one night when he was fucking you real good. “‘m’yours, ‘kuna, all yours.” he knew that, damn it, but what’s the harm in proving it to everyone else. after that, he was insatiable. if you were alone & you weren’t fucking—a rarity—he had you in his lap, sucking hard on the skin of your neck, your collarbones, your breasts, the nape of your neck, your stomach, your ass. . .the list goes on. your hips are at a near constant state of bruised, your back holds little crescent-shaped indentations, your knees are always red, & your friends ooh & ahh over the state of your neck. it was more red than skin-colored. you were his, & not only did he want you to know that, he needed to remind everyone else of it as well. 

birth control? condoms? pulling out? toji's not familiar with them. nope, he’s gonna fuck load after load into you, ‘til he’s just sure that you’re pregnant, & when he’s so overstimulated, when his cock is an angry red, raw, he’ll kneel on the bed in front of you, & finger fuck his seed into you. realistically, toji knows you are on contraceptives & so no matter how raw he fucks you, you’re more than likely not getting pregnant. but try telling that to him when he’s got your legs firmly over his shoulders, sweat is dripping from his forehead, & he’s babbling his orgasmic nonsense of “gotta fill you up, pretty girl, gotta put in a baby in ya, gonna fuck you so full.” it’s in one ear & out the other for him. there’s something deeply instinctual about it; his brain is just wired this way: he needs to fuck his pretty girl full to the brim, & you’re gonna take it, whatever he gives you.

I'm rabid, actually, frothing at the mouth for these men. . .it's so embarrassing did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[cherry-pop-elf]

Your Own Happy Ending

Mouthwashing gang X Reader

AN: Can be read as platonic, and can be implied to be any/multiple characters. Except Jimmy. Fuck you Jimmy

Sum: Enough was enough. Time to get off this stupid Rock

Warnings: 18+, violence, sexual assault, revenge fic, talks about rape, gore, happy ending don’t worry, trauma, mouth wash, graphic violence, written by a victim of sexual assault and giving all of us that need to get revenge on our abusers. I see you, guys gals and nonbinary pals. I see you

This had to stop. He was going to just hurt more and more people. There will be more victims. You can’t become a victim, you can’t have the ones you love be under his hands. No. No one deserved this.

No one except him.

Curly was at deaths door, Anya is going to reach a point of no return in her pregnancy, Daisuke is on the edge of a mental break down, and even Swansea is shattering apart. One bottle of mouthwash at a time.

You didn’t know what will happen next. You were crashed in god knows where, but maybe there is a chance of hope. Maybe there is a way to get home. Maybe. Maybe maybe maybe.

The cockpit is full of foam, but who says you can’t just cut away at it enough to access a transmitter? What’s else is left to do? Not like waiting and praying is helping.

Would explain why Jimmy refused to let anyone have the keys to the pit.

He didn’t want his sins to escape.

You’ll make them escape out of his damn body.

There was no way Anya was going to tell you where the gun was. Guess that means you’ll need to improvise. Had a ax. A ax can do it, but getting it away from Swansea is going to be troubling. He was keeping it as much for self defense at this point as you would have to.

You needed a weapon.

Your hands couldn’t handle it. Jimmy was able to do so much harm already. Anya was most likely not his only victim. He’s certainly done this before. Meaning he knows how to fight, and get someone pinned under him. There to do whatever he wanted.

You had to get him before he got you.

What else could be a weapon?

A knife? A knife!

You ran into the kitchen, much to the confusion of Swansea and Daisuke, only to start tearing the drawers out. Utensils flying everywhere as you tried to find something. Anything sharp.

To your horror there was no knives.

“He took all the knives….”

You looked over, same for Swansea, as it had been Daisuke who said it.

Daisuke said it.

“They are all in Curly’s old room. Since he’s the new captain now he has the ability to lock down that door. No one gets in, and no one gets out. Whatever he wants to hide is there. Noticed him hoarding things there. Was so confused…..Now I’m not anymore.”

Swansea looked ready to start swinging his ax at the nearest body of organs. He couldn’t believe this was real. That this was some shining bullshit.

This couldn’t go on.

“Swan, Daisuke, you guys gotta grab Anya and hide out in the med-bay. I’ll find something. I’ll find something-“ You rambled on, before Anya had poked her head in. Seeing Swansea holding Daisuke, and trying to keep that ray of sunshine from finally snapping.

“What’s going on?” She would whisper. Ever afraid if she spoke to loud that Jimmy would find her. Find her and do something else. Didn’t matter where she was. He was always breathing down her neck. One way or another.

“Little junior adventurer over there wants to finish the job.” Swansea would grit his teeth, as you still kept hunting down for something. Willing to tear apart cushions. You had to find SOMETHING. Maybe you could break a chair leg, maybe you could use some wires. Maybe maybe maybe-

That’s when Anya held your shoulder. Her tired eyes pulled you away from the incoming insanity. Brought you back to reality, and had you listen. Listen for just a moment.

“This is where the jugular vein is-“ She begun, as she pointed to her neck. Then started to name off more vital arteries, before pulling a scalpel from her pocket. Into your hands they went, as she kept listing off every vital vein possible. Weak points every body had.

Even a man like him.

“Last I saw him he was exploring the lower decks. Please…..Just make it quick.” As much as she hated him, she just could only bring herself to be only so cold. She could never be as cruel as Jimmy. To wish death onto someone. Never would she.

That’s what made her forever better than him.

“Come on, kid. You ain’t gonna wanna see this. Get over here, Anya. Come on. Let’s go have a sleepover with Captain Curly.” He would motion her over, and she would snuggle under his arm. The two safe in his arms, as he would walk them to the med-bay.

Was wise for him to keep the ax. That thing was what kept Jimmy from doing his own finishing of the job. You can’t over power him. No you can’t. There was also the fact Anya made sure to keep the gun hidden. You wouldn’t deny the idea it was in the med-bay somewhere. Just more protection if anything.

They’ll be safe. If you didn’t make it, at least you’ll make sure Jimmy is too weak to try anything more to hurt them. Weak enough for someone else to finish the job. What mattered now was them staying away until the job was done, and for you to figure out what to do next.

You needed that damn key.

You would stuff your hands in your pockets, grip tight on the scalpel, and started walking. Walking, thinking, listening. Eyes glued to anything that could offer an opportunity to be jumped. You had to be vigilant.

As you walked you would notice the door that was once Curly’s. How Jimmy didn’t deserve the luxury of what a Captain gets. Made you wonder what else he was also hoarding in that room. Maybe he was hoarding resources that should have been shared with the rest of you. There could be the slimmest chance that he was hiding away a transmitter even. Not having the guts to destroy it, and maybe even as far as to what for the rest of them to kill each other before he called for help.

That coward.

You had to get his keys. You needed those keys for those you love. They deserved to live. YOU deserved to live. No way in hell will Jimmy keep getting away with this. Never again. Never more.

Your nerves were getting tighter and tighter now. Even the sound of your own heart beat was painfully loud in your head. The sweat on your skin, the itch of your skin being too tight, the pounding of drums, the feeling of air pushing at your ribcage. So much as your eyes blinking was to loud.

Everything was to loud.

That’s when a bang of metal hitting metal alerted you. You spun around, and was just met with nothing. Just an empty, dark, hallway. No source of the noise. Maybe there was none to begin with. Just your nerves.

“Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You know you have to do this. There is no other option. You can do this. For Anya, for Daisuke, and for Swansea.”

A wipe to your brow and you returned to hunting him down.

Felt like an eternity. Just endless hallways in red lights of emergency. Hallways blocked off by foam. Was a scarlet bouncy castle of horror. Never did the ship feel so endless yet so tight. Maybe the ship itself was breathing to.

Never did you think you would be happy to see his ugly face.

He was down in the lower decks, seeming to be trying to access a door that Swansea had managed to block off. Swansea was stronger than he looked, and was a mechanic no less. Jerry rigged a makeshift lock for the door. If you recall correctly that was where the cryo-sleep pods were. He had been working to try and fix them up, but you doubt they survived. Guess it’s better to pretend you are doing something useful than do nothing at all.

“Hey Jim, whatcha doing?” You tried your best to act casual, as you watched him trying to get the lock off. A mixture of locking mechanics and bent metal that kept things in place. Jimmy just didn’t have the body weight to unbend them. Who ever said being fat wasn’t useful?

“Trying to get into this damn room. Be useful and help me, won’t you?” He grumbled, as he kept trying to pull the metal.

This was your chance.

This almost felt to perfect. He was distracted, hyper focused on something, and was crouching. You would have the upper hand. You can pull this off. You just had to fight your nerves.

“Yeah yeah yeah. I’m coming.” You would say, as you would walk closer to him. Flashes crossed your vision with each step. Was like blurs of a shadow puppet show. Visions of his talle outline pinning Anya to the ground, another of him pinning Daisuke to a wall. Even Swansea wasn’t free from the concept of being pinned to a surface and abused.

No one was safe with Jimmy still around.

You would soon be standing behind him, as he focused on the lock. He was right there. You just had to do it. Do what Anya showed you. His neck was exposed. It was right there. You just had to do it.

You pulled your weapon out, and took in a deep breath.

Just as you brought your arm to swing, Jimmy turned around.

Happened in a flash. You made contact with his skin, but it was his cheek instead. He would tumble over, and was quick to kick your legs out from under you. Had you slam your back to the ground. Knocked the wind out of you.

“I fucking KNEW IT-! YOU GOD DAMN BITCH-!” Was like he wasn’t even human anymore. Just as much of an animal on the outside as he was on the inside. You had to run. You had to get out of there. You fucked up your perfect chance. Your messed up and he’s going to remind you that you did.

You attempted to get up, but Jimmy was just that much faster than you. Your ankle was grabbed, and he was yanking you closer. You couldn’t stop yourself from screaming, as he would try and pry the medical tool from you.

“GET OFF OF ME YOU RAPIST PIECE OF SHIT-!” You nearly sobbed, as he stared down at you. Your wrists pinned above your head, as he just gawked at you. Was like he never even heard the word before.

“Rapist? You think I’m a fucking rapist? You little fucking bitch. I’m no such damn thing. What happened between us was nothing of the sort. It was just what happens when someone gets in my way. Reaching your goals isn’t a crime. Is it?” He asked you, as you kept struggling under him. Trying to get away.

“Fuck. YOU-!” And you slammed your face into his. Gave you a blinding headache instantly, but the shock of contact was enough to make him let go. You were soon crawling, and now running, away.

“IM GOING TO KILL YOU! IM GOING TO KILL ALL OF YOU LIKE IVE BEEN TRYING TO DO WITH CRASHING THIS STUPID SHIP!” His voice echoed like the demon from hell he was.

You never thought such fear like this could be in your body.

Your vision was a blurry mess from the head bang, but you just used the walls to offer you guidance. To try and find a place to breathe, and wait. To try again. You won’t give up. You refused to give up.

“COME BACK HERE-! YOU CANT RUN FOREVER! THERES NOWHERE ELSE FOR YOU TO GO-!” He would threaten you. His voice just seeming to be coming from everywhere. Was like he was inside of your own head. Like he was all of your insecurities crawling through your skull, and turning your brain into a mushy puddle of doubt and fear.

You still kept going.

You would find yourself back into the dinning hall, and took your chance in hiding in the kitchen area. Ducking down and hiding yourself by the elevated counters. If he kept running he shouldn’t notice you.

You would hold your knees, recollect yourself, and breathed.

The echoes of his running foot steps were like alarm bells in your ears. To hear them get closer, more distant, then closer again. Clearly having lost where you went, but still keeping up chance. How did he have so much energy? He must have been indeed hoarding resources. No way should someone surviving off mouthwash have this much stamina.

Your confused thoughts were cut short by the quickening pace of the foot steps. From banging on metal to proper flooring. He had entered the kitchen. He was breathing hard, and just boiling in anger.

“Where’s that fucking bitch? Where did that fucker go?” He would pant, as you would hear something sharp run over the counter marble. Must have grabbed a knife from his bedroom. Maybe that meant he left the door unlocked as well.

That could be your chance to get a proper weapon.

You just had to wait. Wait and pray he didn’t look over the counter.

You couldn’t tell where he was looking, but you needed to risk it. You would grab for one of the spoons off the ground, and threw it as far as you could. Into the hallway to the next part of the ship. You managed to get enough distance. The sound of metal hitting on the grates was loud. You swore you could feel the head thwip of Jimmy turning towards it.

“Found you-!” He shouted cockily, as he ran into that direction.

“Dumbass.” You muttered, as you soon ran the opposite way. Trying to find his room before he realized he was had.

You even went as far as to take off your shoes, so your feet made much less noise. Harder to be tracked and followed. Never did you think listening to Daisuke ramble about horror movie logic would come in handy. Gave some weird morbid hope that maybe Anya will be a final girl and make it out of here alive.

You would hear the foot steps echoing around you, as you tried to stalk quieter towards the dorm hallways. Was so hard to make out where they were going and coming from. The distant shouts of annoyance weren’t helping either. Was just making you more aware of your own mortality.

Luckily you managed to find the door. He snuck inside, and closed the door. Maybe he would think he locked it behind himself and not even think of checking in there. Maybe he was dumb enough to be fooled.

When in the room you couldn’t help but be disgusted by the sight. He really was hoarding food! The knives were also laid all out on his desk. Organized like he was planning to use them. There was also a trans communicator. Just as you thought there was. You thought it was suspicious there wasn’t a means to transfer information in case of an emergency. Even Pony Express had to have THAT. Suppose believing it was just consumed by foam was easier. Maybe it was and he dug it out himself.

No matter. You had hope.

You quickly grab the device, and turned it on. By god it WORKED!

“Hello? Hello?! This is the Tulpar for The Pony Express! We’ve been crash landed for months! Pony express has laid us off and hasn’t sent any rescue by proxy! Can you hear me?!” You couldn’t help but shout, as the transmitter would crackle.

“We read you loud and clear. How many are on the ship?” You were sobbing. No way. Someone was actually hearing you!

“Five! We have five people here! One in critical condition! Captain Curly! He’s alive! Alive but having suffered the most from the crash. We are running lower on medical supplies, we have very little food, we’ve been drinking fucking mouth wash to survive!” You weeped, as the person on the other end was taking in the information.

You said five for a reason.

“Keep on the line with us as we track your signal. Are you in any immediate danger?” The person asked.

“YES YOU ARE-!” Jimmy would shout behind you, before stabbing you right in your shoulder. You screamed bloody murder, as the person on the line gasped. Despite the pain, you were keeping your grip on the communicator. You weren’t letting go. No you fucking WONT.

“STUBBORN BITCH-!” He shouted at you, as you used your body to protect that communicator with all your body and life. You didn’t care if he was going to kill you now. You were getting everyone home. You were and you fufilled your mission.

“Just get it over with already you coward! How many people did you rape?! Huh?! Was Anya the first?! Like hell! She’s your most recent! Was Daisuke next?! Was I next?!” You called out, as you had nothing to lose anymore. You were going down with your own ship, unlike him.

“If you have to know, Anya wasn’t my last at least. She really thought leaving me alone with Curly was smart. Dumb whore-“ He would yank out the knife, making you bleed and scream. The hot searing pain was just beyond words. You were seeing stars, and not the kind you wanted.

“Was figuring how many I could get away with. Didn’t think she would actually tell anyone. Didn’t think much about her at all. Guess you live and learn. You live and l-“

Bang.

Silence.

Silence, the crackle of a communicator, and the ever breathing ship.

With a thud to the ground you were able to finally gain some vision to look over. Over to see Jimmy was dead on the ground, with a bullet hole through his forehead. Those terrifying eyes were now glsssy and empty. Looked almost relaxed. The only time he seemed to rest.

He was dead.

Your vision was blurring, and noise around you was muffled. All you could hear was muffled noise. Was like you were underwater. Your vision was starting to blur again as well. Couldn’t make out shapes.

You thought you saw someone with black hair above you. Seeming to grab something and speak into it. Was there something yellow to? Yellow and shaking you? There was also this almost pinkish blur as well. Came to you, and you swore you heard someone saying ‘you’re a hero’ before it all went to black.

One Month After The Call.

“Morning sunshine.”

You would groan, as you rubbed at your eyes. What happened? Was it all some bad dream? Where were you? This place didn’t look like the med-bay. Was so clean and white. There were windows too. Holy shit was that daylight? REAL daylight?

“Over here.”

You turned your head, and you saw him. Captain Curly. Looked so much better than when you last recalled him. His skin wasn’t as red, proper bandages were on him, and his lips even seemed to be healing back. Skin graphs? Was still laying in a bed, but far more cared for. Proper bedding, clean, IV bags, and…Wait…..Did he speak?!

“Been out a while. Don’t worry not much to catch you up on. You kinda went into a medical coma, from what Anya tried to explain to me. Everyone agreed to put you in the Cryo-Pod until help arrived. Was the only way to keep us both alive. All the resources had to go to me, sorry about that, so they had to pretty much freeze you in time. Big Swan had managed to make it function enough to work until the rescue team came for us. Welcome to the land of the living, hero.”

Even with his messed up complexion, and voice so hoarse you thought he himself was speaking through a communicator, you smiled. A hero huh? Wait. That meant….

“Did Anya pull the trigger?” You asked, with your own voice rasp from lack of use.

“Yeah. Yeah she did. We heard you screaming and she just….Couldn’t let you be his next victim. You gave her some bravery. I already knew she was brave, but damn. Who needs a Captain when you have her?” His laughter was painful, but you knew it was worth it.

“How’s everyone else?”

“Anya has been working with staff here. They took her in to be a doctor with them when they saw that the likes of me was still alive and functional. They really didn’t want to lose someone as smart as her. Daisuke has been glued here as much as us-“ He would weakly raise his arm, what’s left anyway, towards the sleeping solider. Curled up on a spare cot that was brought in for him. The staff having been understanding that he deserved to be around you both. His parents most likely were the ones to bring in all the video games for him to play with and show Curly as well. Even after so much he was still taking care of the ones he loved.

“Swansea?” You worried the most, since you wondered where he could be.

“Sueing the ever living fuck out of Pony Express for whatever damn dime they have left. Daisuke’s parents, and him, have been at the forefront on it all. He will come visit us soon. Get some rest, sunshine. You’ve earned it.” But you couldn’t help but worry. A worry that one person wasn’t accounted for.

“He’s dead. I do mean dead dead. By the time help arrived he had already well started decomposing. Swansea even went the extra mile and cut his head off from his body. Kinda overkill, but hey….Can’t take risks with monsters. Right?” You nodded at that, as you were able to rest.

No more Jimmy.

No more space ships.

Time to finally be a princess and get your beauty sleep.

“Sleep well, sunshine.”

“You to, Captain.”

A deep breath in of that sterilized air, fresh cut grass, and clean cotton.

You were free.

[elodieunderglass]

On the topic of the monarchist animals I'm just really curious. What makes the winnie pooh real animals bourgeois? It's not like they own much more than the others. Do they just have bourgeois energy?

(In reference to my addition on this post; https://www.tumblr.com/elodieunderglass/748488762087047168/hold-on-lets-do-this-properly-paddington)

In the post I state that none of the stuffed/toy animals in the Winnie the Pooh series are monarchists, but that the real animals are bourgeoisie. Obviously this is tongue in cheek, but it’s still politically interesting to me because nobody ever reads Winnie the Pooh as an actual book. They just draw depressed Disney Eeyore and think they’ve done something.

Owl and Rabbit are real wild animals that live in the Hundred Acre Wood. The other characters in the story are Christopher Robin’s stuffed animals.

The “real” animals (reasonably) consider themselves to be separate from the stuffed ones, but where it becomes unreasonable is how they assume superiority and how they use this to exert authority.

(A charming response about how the stuffed animals view this: Piglet points out that Rabbit is both clever and Has Brain, and Pooh replies that this is why Rabbit “doesn’t understand anything.”)

Owl is characterised by being a bit of a fraud. The stuffed animals respect him for his presumed education and literacy, but even a preschooler understands that Owl can’t actually read. he actively deceives the other characters in order to maintain a higher social status over them. (Actually, Rabbit’s the most literate character in the Wood.) Owl gains relatively little advantage from this status, apart from his belief that he is superior and the pleasure in everyone deferring to him. A notable theme throughout the written series involves characters approaching Owl for advice, based on his self-made reputation of being wise and thoughtful, and him giving explicitly bad advice, rather than admit that he has no idea how to help. Also, they forcibly give him someone else’s house, in such a way that the actual possessor of the house (Piglet) feels he can’t speak up. Pooh immediately offers to Piglet that he move in with him, which even as a kid felt like an incredibly unsatisfactory solution to having the shyest character’s actual house given away to the character who casually lies about everything just to feel superior.

Rabbit is a grown-ass adult real wild animal. He is the social leader of a massively large family and an extended group of hangers-on (he has fifteen or seventeen close relatives, and the extended Friends-and-Relations are a sort of army); he is the only actually literate person in the narrative, so it is understandable that he feels this (although he also believes Owl can read.) literacy and Brain are considered very important in the Wood.

Rabbit believes in his own superiority and believes himself to serve as a sort of cadet to Christopher Robin. In the series Christopher Robin is the ultimate judge, and a kindly ruler; Rabbit positions himself constantly at Christopher Robin’s right hand and wants to be his enforcer. Christopher Robin, who is five and a fairly distracted God, does not really enforce anything. This does not stop Rabbit from trying to organise the entire Wood. It’s frequently mentioned that Rabbit wants to feel important, he wants to be the Boss. A beautiful, beautiful commentary on his character is when he wakes up feeling “important, as if everything depending on him… it was a Captainish sort of day, when everybody said “Yes Rabbit” and “No Rabbit” and waited until he had told them.” Fantastic!

However, we can see where this leads him. In the first book Rabbit is shown being hostile and actively anti-foreign in his approach to other people. When kanga and roo arrive in the forest - sanctioned by Christopher Robin who has received new toys - Rabbit instantly says they have to get rid of them. Like there is NO friendship in Rabbit’s heart here. There is no “god has placed a new friend in the wood so we have to get on with it.”

Rabbit’s anti-immigration stances are funny, and in-character, and shown by the narrative to be wrong and unfair. But they’re pretty unleashed.

His plan is to kidnap the baby and hold it hostage until the mother agrees to “leave the forest forever and never return.”

This is not a normal response to a new character. It is in fact fucking unhinged. Coming from the most normal-adult real animal in the story, it comes out of nowhere. “We have to eliminate them instantly. Take the baby hostage, blackmail the parent and deport them” Rabbit these are war crimes.

Anyway it’s all very heartwarming as Rabbit learns that he likes Baby Roo. (Their relationship grows warmer as Baby Roo says “yes rabbit” and “no rabbit” better than anyone else.) We never really learn why Rabbit is so violently anti-immigration that he instantly jumps to doing crimes, but it’s possible that he doesn’t like the threat to the status quo. Baby Roo, by deferring politely, thus turns out to be a valuable social inferior for Rabbit’s power base.

But in the next book we also get another new character introduction: Tigger. rabbit does not like tigger. In fact, he stops visiting Roo because Tigger lives with them. Rabbit, frustrated by Tigger’s bounciness, also decides to deliberately trick and bully Tigger in order to make him “small and sorry.” The fact that this comically backfires on Rabbit is part of the Pooh-lore storytelling style, of course, but it’s still something obvious even to the preschool audience - that isn’t how you treat your friends.

In conclusion, due to their hoarding of (social) capital and behaviors that prop up an unjustly unequal social system, I think the real animals in Winnie the Pooh are a bit bougie.

[lxnarphase]

GOOD MORNING, BABY

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...ft. : h. hiromi + k. shiu + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. aoi

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, breeding kink, sukuna is a dickhead, shiu really loves his girl, hiromi loses his shit, aoi is a great boyfriend, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!

who does it to tease you ↴

✧ k. shiu ; he's slow, purposefully grinding right against your sex, his cock leaking precum all over your thighs when he pushes through them. shiu thinks it’s so fucking cute how you try to grind against nothing in your sleep, he can’t help but tease you a little bit, a little smirk on his face at all your reactions

“always makin' me do all the work, aren't ya? hm, got a pretty lil' pillow princess on my hands...” “your man had such a tough day, and your here all comfy and sweet, waiting for me t' touch you. tsk, should've come home sooner, didn't mean to leave my girl waiting." “god, always loved how damn soft you are, angel. mm, so so soft and warm, jus' for me. don't worry, i'll wake you up with my cock cummin' all over your pretty skin.”

✧ h. kinji ; to be fair, you caused this. you teased the poor man all day, and kinji knows he's getting you back when you telling him you're gonna take a nap, rubbing your hands against his chest while wearing nothing but his t-shirt. since you're soooo eager to tease, he had no issues with teasing you back.

“hm? going to pretend you sleep? c'mon, sweetheart, don’t you want to be fucked? you're so fuckin' cute when y'wanna try and be stubborn, hun." "i know you’re awake, i see your pretty eyes trying not to open. all you have to do is open them and i’ll stop fucking your thighs and fuck you instead.” “thaaat’s it, baby, tha's my girl. rubbing up against me while looking so pretty. let’s give you a reward, hm? gonna pop the tip in an' see how fast we can get ya to cry for the rest of it.”

who does it because they are desperate ↴

✧ h. hiromi ; there’s no knowing what caused him to snap, but hiromi comes home practically feral. it's hot, so hot as he quickly takes off all his clothes, uncaring about his expensive suit jacket on the floor. he’s been thinking about you ever since he left his office, thinking about every curve of your body, every sweet noise you’d make, and how delicious you sound saying his name.

“honey, wake up, please. ’m not fucking you until you wake up and look at me. you're not getting my cock til you look at me.” “beg? oh, no, no, no, pretty thing, no teasing and no playing around. the only one that’s going to beg is you, baby. now stop being a little brat and be good for me, yeah? don't wanna punish you, not when you look so cute right now." "how about i just fuck your thighs and, cum all on them? you want my cum to go to waste? or do you want to be fucked full of my cum like a good girl? make your fucking choice.”

who wakes you up ↴

✧ r. sukuna ; sukuna doesn’t even go to thigh fucking, he skips that. no, he’s grumpy his sleep was interrupted by the annoying rush of blood to his dick. so now, he's biting your thighs, sucking on them before going down on you, using his tongue and fingers to prep you lazily shoving his stupidly big cock inside you, humming when you moan yourself awake.

“look who's awake. took you long enough, I put so much effort into making you feel good before I shoved my dick inside ya. hey, don't smack my tits, brat, i'll bite your damn hand off.” “hm? you want me to move? mm. why should i? ...because i woke you up? tch...you're lucky you're s' fucking pretty or i'd just jerk off and cum all over your face.” "fuck, always take me in s' fuckin' good...i trained this cunt right, now she knows how t' handle my cock. 'member when you couldn't even take half of it in? look at you now, turned ya into my nasty little cockslut."

✧ t. aoi ; you fell asleep in aoi's lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you rested your head against his shoulder. the thigh fucking was supposed to happen, yes, but you were tired, opting out for cockwarming him as he watched whatever show he put on. but then you started squirming around, whining so cutely in your sleep. how could he not take care of his girl?

“oh, hiii, bunny...you’re finally awake? hey, shhh, shh, 's okay, i've got ya. feels real good, right? y'just sounded so cute, i couldn' help myself, pretty, you were squeezing me so tight.” “too slow? do you want me to go faster, darling? all you have to do is ask....heh, no, 'm not being mean! i just think you're cute all sleepy, is all.” “it’s hitting deep? yeah? maybe i should lift you higher and slam you down to see how deep i really can go.”

[bwskj]

NSFW MDI | jjk x reader

- jjk characters reacting to u asking them on call for a moaning audio -

chars: gojo, nanami, megumi, sukuna, yuuji, inumaki

notes: (text) are you; bulleted + written

tags: honestly just a lot of nsfw stuff, pls x away if ur a minor or uncomfy

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

gojo

— “baby what?”, he laughs amused, “did you just say you want me to send a moaning audio?”

— you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “ah baby, well i could do that… just not for free. give me something to look at and i’ll make it, how about that?”

output: bro sends a hand held video of him jacking off while sitting on the living room couch. a part of his laptop sitting on the coffee table with your photo/video on it is shown in the upper half of the video, behind the main character that is his thick hard cock. satoru likes talking as if you’re there kneeling in front of him, pretending he’s got your face to tap his dick on before he fully wraps his hand around the girth and starts pumping. he often groans low with the occasional sharp inhales through gritted teeth. eventually, he gets to the point wherein he’s leaking so much pre-cum it’s enough to help him make big smooth strokes over his length. his camera angle ends up wonky sometimes because he’s too zoned in jerking off to you. “fuckkk baby, god you’re so—hot” and “shit… that’s mine, that fucking pussy belongs to me.” he sure loves his dirty talk, “bet you wanna ride this huh, baby? want your tight pussy walls sucking up my cock.” when he finally cums, you can tell he’s trying his best to not hold in his moans (cause ofc that’s what you’re looking for). his thighs tense, spreading apart as his cum shoots up high, loud groans with every shot that spatters all over his bare stomach. he aims the camera down at his messy torso, laying his dick on it as he swipes it across the mess around and on his happy trail. “you better lick this clean off, baby.”

nanami

—“excuse me? a what?” (you repeat yourself)

—hunched over his desk at work, he says, “honey i… don’t do that,” he sounds concerned that you would ask for such thing, “do you need it for… something?” you can imagine the stitch in his brow when he asks this.

— (you reply with a vague and teasing “maybe”) kento lightly huffs, seeming slightly bothered (?)“well, i’m busy right now… just… wait until i get home.”

output: no audio but what did you expect he was at work! not like he would do it though if he wasn’t. instead, on the way home, he’s got one thing on his mind. the thought keeps bubbling up in excitement, making him tap his foot in impatience as he rides the elevator up to your shared apartment. when you hear the jangle of his keys in the doorknob, you spring up from where you’ve been rotting. a smile immediately appears on your face when you see your boyfriend looking even more dashing with the appearance of a man who’s worked hard all day at work. “you’re home, i—“ you’re about to tell him you’ve missed him but he cuts you off when he closes the distance, leaning in and catching your lips with his. he drops his work bag on the floor as the big palm of his hand slides onto your back. he pulls you close, not giving you the chance to speak anymore as his deep hungry kiss keeps your mouth busy. you manage to make at least the sound of, “mphh.. Kento!” when his lips pull back a bit. you can tell he’s trying to hold himself back, his jaw and shoulders feeling rigid when your hands feel over them. “couldn’t wait to get home,” he mumbles when his mouth detaches for a second — basically, yea, he fucks you pretty much the whole night or until you can’t take any more. everything he does is meant to please you; he thrives on giving you, his pretty princess, what you want, feeling fulfilled when he knows he can keep you more than satisfied.

sukuna

— “the fuck? a moaning audio? why would i do that?

— he stretches his jaw, the eyes on his cheeks fluttering a little eye roll. he speaks into the mic at a low volume, “baby if you miss being dicked down just say so…”

— “uhuh yea, keep pretending you don’t want it til you’ve got this cock in your mouth, right? stay put. i’m coming over”

output: no moaning audio. he gets to your place in 10 minutes (how the fuck he got there that quick you’ll never know). when you greet him at the door, mouth ajar in surprise, you can’t stop yourself from cheekily saying, “well, isn’t somebody excited?”

“i wanna know what the bitch who’s asking for an audio sounds like when she gets what she actually wants,” he cockily spits out as he looms over you by the still open door frame.

your eyes widen at his response but you can only stutter before his hand is suddenly holding you by your throat. he welcomes himself in, shutting the door behind him while you almost stumble back into your hallway. your hands instinctively reach to grab at the back of his hand around your neck. not even a second later and his other hand grabs one of yours, tugging it and placing it over the tent in his pants. his fingers sandwiched around your neck begins to squeeze and you accidentally sound out a moan. you can feel his sharp nails pricking your nape. his hand holding yours guides you into palming him. a dark smirk is on his face. “i’m fucking hard. do something about it.”

long story short: he rails you (on your bed, in front of the mirror, doggy style or just backshots in general— he loves pinning your wrists behind you and watching your tits bounce everytime he pounds into you. when you’re on top, he doesn’t even give you the chance to ride him on your own). “how you liking this, huh? sweet little slut. you like this fat cock fucking your stomach? isn’t this better than some shit tease through the phone?”

megumi

— his cheeks warm when he hears the words through the phone, “what’s that?” He asks though he knows full well what you mean (i think megumi would be a secret tumblr user).

— you carefully explain it to him. there’s hesitation in his voice when he says, “oh, i see…”

— alarmed by the way his voice trailed off, you reassure him that he doesn’t have to do it if he doesn’t want to.

— he replies with a slightly stammered okay and the call eventually awkwardly ends with exchanged ‘i love you’s and ‘talk to you later’s

— you feel slightly embarrassed for voicing your request but it’s not long before you forget about it. it was worth a shot.

— that night, while you’re snuggled up in your cozy blanket, you receive a single voice note from megumi with no message attached

— megumi blushes as he stares at the file he just sent, wondering if he did it okay. you don’t know that he jack offed and recorded not even five minutes after your call ended.

output: when you press play you’re immediately met with the semi-distant sounds of megumi’s shaky gasps and breathy low moans. it looks like he sent you a recording of the most interesting part of his session wherein wet stroking sounds are being picked up by his phone. there’s oftentimes soft whimpers that slip through, the noise of his bed covers shifting on his skin almost overpowering it when he gets more and more into fucking his hand (or whatever he’s slotting his dick through). you have to replay it a couple times to make sure you heard right—pride blooming within you when you’re certain he’s whimpering and mumbling out your name. his moans rise in pitch and grow more rugged the closer he gets to his climax. “a-ah… mm—hah.. gonna c-cum,” you can hear the strokes getting faster and the sheets being gripped tight. when he cums, he gets even louder, noisy staggering moans falling out his mouth. you just know his throbbing dick is thrusting up while chasing his high. when it dies down, you can hear soft panting and then the sound of his phone being picked up. there’s a silent pause before his voice comes through low and crisp, “i… hope you liked that.”

yuuji

— “a what audio??”, he laughs, “you’re kidding!” His laugh fades when he realises you aren’t.

— “wait seriously, you’re into that? like those audios on reddit or something?”

— (“… you know those?” you ask curiously.)

— yuuji gets flustered, he stutters, “i-i don’t—I accidentally came across them once. kinda freaked me out, ngl…”

— (“freaked you out?”)

— “yea, i dunno, never imagined guys to be doing that for a living. and i didn’t know there were girls who especially liked that.”

— (“really… well a lot of girls actually like that. but yea, i guess you wouldn’t really know, cuz you know,” you lightly tease.)

— yuuji rubs a hand over his blushing cheek, “you don’t have to keep reminding me that you’re my first…”

— (he always reacts like this and so you remind him again [you love reminding him], “sorry my yuuji, but you know, i love being your first, especially knowing that my competition is literally THE jennifer lawrence.”)

— you can hear the smile yuuji is trying to keep down, “and your 100x better than her,” (honestly, you just tease him to hear him say this again)

— (“so what about that audio?”)

— “hm?” yuuji didn’t even realize it until now that he’s got a hand over the boner jutting through his boxers

— you quickly reassure him that he can say no if he doesn’t want to. there’s a silence that hangs for a moment in the call, and when you’re about to say something again to dismiss the topic, he starts, “could you… maybe, talk me through it?”

output: you piece together that yuuji’s turned on. “are you… hard rn?” your voice comes gentle through the phone and yuuji grabs his dick stronger through the cloth, pushing his palm against it. he shudders, “m-maybe.” your voice sounds so good.

“are you…” you trail off, but yuuji knows what you mean. he quickly replies, “is this okay? you can tell me if it’s not, i-i’ll stop.” yuuji doesn’t want to stop but he’s stiffened his hand on his dick to try to stop himself from touching further without your consent.

there’s another short pause before you say, “mm, it’s okay, yuuji… you need help?”

“mhm,” he hums, instantly resuming his hand movement. there’s slight guilt when he clears his throat and says, “s-sorry our call kind of—went in another direction, it’s okay if you don’t want to. I can—“

your laugh cuts him off, “sweetie it’s okay. i’d like to help. we’ll hit two birds with one stone since i wanted an audio anyway.”

yuuji blushes even harder. “I… I’ll try to not… hold it in.”

you grin, biting at your lip as you lay in your bed with your phone planted on your ear. “Good… you’ll give me what i want hm?”

Yuuji’s breaths are beginning to tremble as he continues to rub himself to the sound of your voice. “y-yea, for you… i’ll do what you want.”

it gets more serious when yuuji finally takes his dick out his boxers and starts pumping it up and down; it’s almost fully hard. he loves it when you ask him what he’s doing, what he’s thinking about. his moans start off quiet but when you tell him you wanna hear him, his voice breaks and he lets a louder sound come out his throat. “can you imagine your hand as my hand, or my mouth?” you ask him. at this point your thighs are squeezed together and you can feel the wetness pool in your panties. this makes yuuji moan even louder.

after a couple minutes of this teasing dirty talk, yuuji can’t take it anymore and the needy words, “fuh… i… i want to see you. c-can i?” slip out of his mouth.

it turns into a video call after the both of you move to transfer to your laptops. you can see yuuji’s tip peeking from the bottom edge of the screen. his shirt is on and it’s lightly sticking to his skin, likely because he’s starting to sweat. when you turn on your camera, your pretty face comes into view and you’re in the usual clothes you wear at home: loose shirt, no bra, panties. you can instantly tell yuuji’s back to jerking himself, though you can’t see his whole hand or his face at all.

“let me see you, sweetie,” you say, hand digging between your sticking thighs and going over your clothed crotch.

his movement slows, “shit, you wanna see me?” he sounds embarrassed. you nod. yuuji is obviously reluctant, but he listens, repositioning his laptop further so it captures his face and dick in hand. you feel yourself throb at the sight.

it isn’t long before you’re touching your bare pussy in front of the camera, tits out on display. you’re lewd and so is yuuji, now more confidently moaning as he pleases himself to you. between your own sounds, you softly say, “gosh my pretty baby. you’re doing so well,” knowing how your boyfriend is secretly a sucker for praise. yuuji groans, body jerking as his face flushes even redder. “will you come for me?” you say. you’ve got him in the palm of your hand.

yuuji’s a moaning needy mess, the hand not on his dick pinning the hem of his shirt high up. “fuugh… y-yes… yes for you. I’ll come… i’m about to—about… agh—“

yuuji’s hand pumps the tip fast and he cums strongly, head bowing as his hips thrust up and he shoots white. “Ah~ oh~,” he’s shaky and noisy all the way through his high. when he finally lifts his head up to look at you, you’re sweetly smiling (you came watching him cum but he missed it ://). you stare at one another for a moment before the both of you let out (somewhat nervous) laughter.

yuuji pats sweat off his forehead with the back of his clean hand, careful not to have the other covered in his own cum go near his bed sheets. “gosh, you’re good. i’m so lucky to have you.”

you beam. “and i’m so lucky to have such a pretty, handsome boyfriend. you did great.”

he shyly looks away, biting on his lip to suppress a smile, “thank you.”

inumaki

— you text him asking for a moaning audio (unless u want inumaki to go tuna tuna at u on call lmao)

— “?”

— “how do i make that?”

— you send him a voice note explaining what kind of audio it is, making sure to tell him he doesnt have to do it if he doesnt want to

— “…”

— “okay…”

— “i totally thought you wanted to hear me in pain and i was… concerned.”

— (“??? baby pls no?!)

— “thank god”

— there’s a pause in the chat

— “i would send if i could.”

— (“wdym? if you don’t feel comfortable about it it’s okay maki”)

— “no… um”

—(“?”)

— “i don’t really get hard unless ur here.”

— (you stare at his message before sending an “oh !”)

— “yea… nothing else does it for me. sorry.”

— (you’re both blushing and stricken by his response. “no baby don’t be sorry TT you don’t need to do this. i can always hear you in person.”)

— “sure?”

— (“yes for sure TT”)

— “:p i’ll make those sounds for you next time if you really like them.”

output: next time you see each other, it starts off as usual. a casual date outside before going back to his place for nightly cuddles and eventually… that. it’s clear inumaki remembers you’re conversation without you having to bring it up. he’s nervous at first (he’s always been pretty quiet mostly because he’s mindful of using his voice), and you see it in his eyes. “just let it out okay? it’s just me here,” you whisper when you softly kiss under his neck, a little shy as well. soon, when you’re kissing, touching, and sucking him all over, his moans are tiny sharp inhales and whimpers rising up his throat; they come out somewhat muffled because of his closed mouth. since he can’t really risk saying anything, he’ll tell you that he feels good with a hand combing through your hair or a thumb caressing your skin. he’ll buck up into your throat when he cums, his mouth accidentally opening to sound out a breathier vocal moan. when you pull up, wiping your mouth after swallowing, he doesn’t hesitate to pull your face close, kissing you sweetly. you know it’s his way of saying ‘thank you. i love you.”

—— <3

a/n: wrote smth diff today (context: i usually write leon kennedy stuff) these are just my headcanons so i’d love to hear what u guys think! xoxo i had sm fun writing this hehe

also, can u guess who my fav char is? (it’s not the one with the longest part— mb that some are longer than others, idk how to stop smtms)

[zweigsangel]

ex fratboy! chris. smut-angst. 1.8k words.

it’s one of those late nights, and you’re standing there in the middle of a way-too-crowded, kinda messy party that, honestly, you only came to ‘cause your friends dragged you here. the air's thick with too many people, bad beer, and random songs blaring loud enough to drown out any thoughts you might’ve had. and that’s when you see him: chris. the ex you swore you were over. but like, really, are you?

it’s weird though, ‘cause he’s just chilling across the room, laughing too loud, his arm around some guy you don’t recognize, talking animatedly about god knows what. he’s got that same stupid, loose stance, shoulders relaxed, wearing that hoodie he always wore, the one you’d stolen a million times. you think— hope, he hasn’t noticed you, so you kinda try to blend in, sticking close to the wall, pretending to check your phone.

you weren’t always like this, all distant and tense. you’d meet up after his frat meetings, and he’d tell you all these wild stories about his brothers, like the time they tried building a slip n’ slide down the staircase and ended up getting written up by their advisor. you’d just sit there laughing so hard you’d cry, and he’d look at you like nothing in the world could ever compare. and for a while, it felt like he was it. but it ended, kinda messy, mostly because chris was…well, chris. he’d blow off plans, flirt with people at parties, and honestly, it just felt like he didn’t know what he wanted. or maybe he did, and it just wasn’t you. he’d show up late and drunk, ramble on about his deep thoughts on the universe, and then disappear for days, leaving you feeling like some kind of afterthought. eventually, you got tired of being the whenever person, so you cut it off. even if it hurt.

it’s been a few months now, and you’re doing your thing—focusing on classes, seeing friends, trying to move on.

but nah. of course he sees you.

“yo, wait up,” he calls, weaving his way through people, looking right at you. you try to act casual, like this isn’t a big deal, like you don’t feel your stomach flip. he stops in front of you, that grin still hanging on his face. “hey,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “long time no see, huh?”

“yeah, well, been busy,” you reply, shrugging. it sounds casual enough, but he’s still looking at you like he’s trying to read something on your face.

“you look good,” he says after a pause, and it’s so out of character for him to just say something like that, straight-up, that it throws you off for a second “uh...thanks?” you laugh, awkwardly. you know he’s probably just trying to be friendly, but you can’t help wondering if there’s more to it. “so...you still doing the same old chris thing?”

he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away for a second. “i guess so,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. and then he kinda sighs, like he’s tired of the frat boy act, or maybe just tired of himself. “been, uh…been thinkin’ about you,” he admits, his voice low. “more than i probably should.”

you try to brush it off, folding your arms to keep your cool. “oh, yeah? that’s, uh, new.”

“i know, i know, i messed up,” he says, sighing. “just…never got you outta my head, y’know?” you can feel yourself softening despite everything. “yeah, well, maybe you should’ve tried harder.”

he looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and there’s this vulnerability there, like he’s finally ready to admit something he’s been holding back. “you think i didn’t? trust me, i tried. i just…i dunno. couldn’t do it.”

you don’t want to care, don’t want to feel that old pull, but it’s there, creeping up on you. he steps closer, barely an inch between you now, his gaze never leaving yours. “you want me to back off?” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the music. “just tell me, and i will.”

you could tell him to go. could shut this down, walk away, stay done with him. but instead, you shake your head, just a tiny movement, and he lets out a soft breath, like he’s been holding it in. before you can think, his hand’s on your waist, his fingers brushing lightly over your hip, pulling you closer.

the kiss starts slow, tentative, his lips brushing over yours like he’s testing if this is real. then his hand moves up, slipping around your back, and it’s like something inside you snaps. you grab the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, and he lets out a low sound, his grip on you tightening as he presses his body against yours, his mouth moving over yours with more intensity.

“missed you,” he whispers against your lips, his voice rough, desperate. you barely register the words, just feel the heat rising between you two, feel his hands sliding lower, pulling you against him, his fingers firm on your waist, his mouth moving along your jaw, down to your neck, sending shivers through you. you tug him toward the hallway, away from the crowded room, and he follows, his hand gripping yours, letting you lead him through the maze of people until you push open the bathroom door, dragging him inside.

the space is cramped and a little dingy, but you don’t care. the second the door clicks shut, his hands are on you, pushing you gently but firmly against the door. his mouth crashes into yours, hot and urgent, and your hands find their way under his hoodie, slipping over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. you tug the hoodie off him, and he lifts his arms to help you, tossing it aside without a second thought, his hands already back on you, roaming down your sides, exploring every inch.

he kisses you harder, more intense, his lips pressing down your neck, his hands slipping under your top, that quickly joins the hoodie on the floor.

“god, i’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost a growl. “yeah? thought you forgot about me,” you tease, but there’s no real bite to your words. it’s playful, but you both know the truth behind it.

“never forgot. couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you,” he admits, his hands sliding up to your bra, deft fingers working to unclasp it. you feel a thrill of excitement mixed with nerves as it falls away, and his hands are on your bare skin, exploring, his touch igniting every nerve in your body.

“you’re, uh…sure about this?” he murmurs, his voice low, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. you don’t even hesitate. “yeah,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

he lets out a soft, almost relieved sound, and his mouth finds yours again, hungrier this time, like he’s been holding back and can’t anymore. his hands slide down, finding the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down, his touch steady and deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. you step out of it, your pulse racing as his hands explore you, pulling you closer, pressing you against him.

you tug at his belt, fingers fumbling, but he’s already helping, working the buckle loose, kicking off his jeans. he’s back against you in a second, his hands on your hips, his lips trailing down your collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth and shivers in their wake.

he lifts you, setting you on the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist. “you okay?” he asks, checking in, “yeah, jus’ do it,” you whisper, barely able to hold back the urge to pull him closer, “please.”

he’s kissing you again, his mouth moving against yours as you feel him press against you, hot and hard, and you let out a soft gasp. “need you,” he murmurs, almost pleading, and that raw honesty sends a thrill through you. you nod, breathless, and he positions himself, sliding inside you slowly, giving you a moment to adjust. it feels incredible, every inch of him fitting perfectly, like he was made for you.

“god, you’re so tight,” he groans, burying his face in your neck, and the sound of his voice makes you moan softly. as he starts moving, the rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, and you feel every thrust, every movement building inside you. he’s murmuring your name, breathless, and the heat between you is consuming. you wrap your legs tighter around him, pulling him in deeper, urging him to go faster.

“yeah? you like that?” he asks, his breath hot against your skin as he quickens the pace. it feels electric, every thrust sending shockwaves through you, and you nod, lost in the sensation.

“so good, chris,” you moan, the words tumbling out as you feel that familiar coil tightening deep inside you. he leans back, looking at you with those dark, intense eyes, and it drives you wild. “gonna make you feel good, okay?” he says, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes your heart race.

with each thrust, the world outside fades away. it’s just the two of you, the heat of the moment enveloping you, and you feel that sweet pressure building, your body responding to every touch, every whisper, until you’re trembling around him, ready to fall apart.

“come on, babe,” he encourages, his voice low and rough, and you can hear the strain in it as he moves faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “can’t hold on much longer,” you breathe, feeling that familiar rush as he hits just the right spot, sending you spiraling.

“let go for me,” he says, his voice thick with desire, and the way he looks at you, his eyes dark and hungry, pushes you over the edge. with a loud gasp, you’re coming undone, waves of pleasure crashing over you, and he follows right after, burying himself deep as he lets go. the sound of his voice, mixed with yours, fills the tiny bathroom, and in that moment, it’s just the two of you, lost in each other, together again in a way you thought you’d never be.

as you both come down from the high, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. he doesn’t say anything, just lets the silence settle between you, a quiet, unspoken apology wrapped up in the way he looks at you, his eyes softer than you remember, like maybe he’s finally realized what he’s been missing all along.

and for now, it’s enough to let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.