#goodnight I’m going to bed

[jerksbitch]

[vibrating at a frequency that could split atoms] yea im just thinking about dean winchesters teeth. nothing exactly in particular about them No..

[baggy-holmes]

pouty

[rodolfoparras]

Detective’s Work

Pairing: Spider Noir x Top Male Reader

Synopsis: in which Noir tries to keep you off the streets and you try to keep him inside the sheets

Content tags: rough blow jobs, exhibition kink, brat! Noir, Hard dom! Reader (kind of), detective! Noir, petty criminal! Reader

A/n: sorry for any mistakes it’s an 11pm Drabble kind of day

As far as anyone knows you and Noir dislike each other. He’s a detective and you’re a criminal. There’s no reason for you two to get along.

But what people don’t know is that every night he shows up to your hotel room, under the excuse that he has to make sure that you’re acting in line but he’s wearing nothing under his trench coat and he's got a pretty plug inside his hole.

There’s a knock on your hotel door and a smile makes its way on your face. There’s only one person foolish enough to wander around shady neighborhoods at this hour.

One second he’s outside your door, the next second he’s bent over a desk, stripped out of everything but his plug, legs spread and cock hard and leaking.

He won’t say a word to you, not until you fuck it out of him at least; a broken string of pleas or needy noises escaping his lips.

He’s not here to talk, he’s here to get fucked by the only person who knows how to do it right.

And once it’s all over and done, he’ll have you put the plug back in, puts on his coat and leaves your hotel room quickly, continuing on with his business like you didn’t just fuck and he isn’t full of your cum.

Sometimes he’ll act out of line and ruin your plans. You don’t mind it much though. He’s a detective after all. It’s his job to stop criminals.

“You sure you don’t want any help with this?” One detective says to Noir as he gets ready to head out to where you had last been spotted.

“Stay here. I’ll deal with it” Noirs responds before he heads towards the door.

Only if the detective knew dealing with it meant being forced down on his knees, hands tied behind his back and mouth pried open as you shove your cock down his throat.

“What were you supposed to be doing now again?” You pretend to think, fingers comically tapping against your chin while continuously rolling your hips.

“Weren’t you supposed to deal with me or something like that? Feels like you’re doing quiet the opposite here” you say with a dark chuckle, rolling your hips harder and hearing the gurgling sound as he chokes on your cock, fat tears rolling down his cheeks and drool dripping from his chin.

“There, there “ You say as you stroke his hair, tone condescending as ever “you’re this place’s ultimate hero or whatever it is. You can take it, can you?” And despite the humiliating position he’s in there’s still a certain spit fire reflecting in his iris as he nods his head and God if it doesn’t make your cock twitch in his mouth.

And as much as he doesn’t like to admit it, he can’t help but be turned by the fact that one day someone might just catch him fucking a criminal.

Interrogations that should go by quickly will last up to a good hour or so if you’re involved. Footage will go missing from both the camera and the microphone.

Noir would say that they malfunctioned. “You know that tech still has a far way to go” but what they don’t know is that a good chunk of that footage shows Noir pushed against the glass wall with you thrusting your cock inside his hole. And a good chunk of that recording is him just begging for more, more, more.

And he’d go out his way to get those recording developed, play it on whatever device he has access to and jerk off to them.

[25shadesoffebruary]

So, this has been in my head since the ending of todays episode. And I need to get it out so here (do with it what you will):

[lizardinkart]

More animatic thumbnails weeeeeee ✨

Aaaaaaaand this is the last of me being deranged for the night. Good ol’ Taylor Beebert, perfectly fine and ok, with no lobotomies in sight.

[hellboundhimbo]

i need them to spontaneously combust into a ball of fire but also have a big fat gay wedding and live happily ever after it’s all very complicated

[lavendermin]

Thinking of jing yuan and how he has that fan club of people on the Luofu who have a huge crush on him and even buy photos of him. Probably have jing yuan photocards in their phone cases lmao.

They talk about him on online forums. The more recently popular debate on one of the forum threads is about him and his love life.

The grand question posed by user jing_yuan_lover420: What kind of lover do you think Jing Yuan is?

cw | nsfw, mdni, fem reader

The thread has well over 4,000 replies with different thoughts and speculations. Majority say he’s a vanilla sort of man. Gentle and sticks to making love to you rather than raw animalistic sex.

Very few argue that as a general maybe he’s a little rougher or is into some specific kinks.

But the only one who will ever know is you. The general’s doting wife who sits prettily on his lap as his hands roam your body. He orders you (begs you) to spit in his mouth, his eyes dazed as he pants against your lips. He looks utterly debauched and wrecked as your hips grind against him. Gets edged over and over until he’s begging incoherently.

And he looks so pretty like this, hands tied behind his back as he leans against the headboard, cock twitching as he’s completely at your mercy. His chest rises and falls quickly with the exertion, your lips pressing softly to the soft skin at the swell of his chest. You give one of his pecks a squeeze as your hips pick up the pace. He’s a vocal man in the privacy of your home. Anything but vanilla—something the public would never know.

Only you get to see this side of him. It’s thrilling.

[dwightschrute11]

The first batch of MCs requested from my last post is done!

I had too split it up into two batches because I got a lot of requests and they were taking a while to all get done, so the rest of the promised MCs should be done in the next 2-4 days 🤞thank you all for your amazing MCs, and sorry this batch all took so long! (Still taking requests btw)

( I was going to add backgrounds but shit man…they’re hard)

The owners of these MCs in order: @sparxyv @morelikeravenbore @hazyange1s @ladyofsappho @rypnami @ilovewritingfics @zorro-d-t @shanaraharlyah

[thedickcavettshow]

Joan Baez, 1969

[squishiest-wizard]

Me this whole week

[greaterspawnislands]

Isolation may not break him, but Phil hasn’t been alone in a long time.

He comes from a world where solitude is expected, where he’s spent centuries talking to himself as he uncovers the ancient legends of an old world.

He’s used to being alone. Solitude won’t break him.

Although, even then, there were the crows. There was his goddess. He may have been physically alone in that world, but he could talk to others. He could have conversations.

He’s used to being alone. The silence won’t break him.

This island did well at chipping away that hardcore exterior, though. Too well.

The strangers he arrived on the train with are now some of his most trusted allies. How quickly Phil had become used casual physical touch again, with friends always just one warp away.

The eggs he was trusted to care for are now his biggest weaknesses. Nothing else could ever have made Phil so desperate to leave all his things behind, not even the threat of his own life.

Isolation may not break him, but this love he feels just might be the death of him.

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

it’s nice to have a friend (pt. 1)

Pairing: Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) x GN!Reader

Type: Mini Fic - Fluff-ish??

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Cursing, maybe a little bit ooc Hobie since it’s been months, a few halfhearted attempts at his accent and then I just gave up whoops

A/N: wrote this while having the worst cramps of my life last month and only finished it now 👍 idk I just felt like cussing out the world at that point so that might explain the excessive swearing 😭

Tap tap tap.

You were just about dropping off to sleep when you heard those light knocks on the window. Probably just a clumsy bird.

Tap tap tap tap.

The knocks grew more insistent, more familiar - a pattern of sorts. You heaved a long, mildly annoyed sigh and got up to open the window.

It was not, in fact, an annoying pigeon. It was Spider-Punk in the flesh. Or as you knew him, your absolute dumbass of a best friend.

“It’s 3am in the fucking morning,” You waved your hand at the pitch-darkness outside, giving him the most formidable glare you could muster. “What do you want?”

“Hello, sunshine!” Hobie hopped inside, pulled off his mask, and gave you a completely unfazed grin. “Nice to see you too. Stop glaring at me! What, I can’t see my best friend whenever I want?”

“It is 3am in the fucking morning,” You repeated, pointing helpfully at the clock on your bedside table, though you had to press your lips together to squash a smile. Good grief, did his little cross between a smirk and a smile have to be so contagious?

“But I can’t sleep, and clearly you can’t sleep, and I missed you, so let’s go!”

“You saw me barely six hours ago,” You deadpanned, already pulling yourself to your feet and grabbing your coat from where it lay thrown across the the bedside table. “Drama queen.”

“Me? A drama queen? Nah, I’ll show you drama.” He flopped melodramatically onto the floor, grabbing your ankle and pretending to die. He looked ridiculous, like a lanky stick-bug-fish hybrid that crawled onto land and starting flapping about.

“Hobie, get up!” You gave a little huff, reaching a hand down to yank him upwards. “Okay, fine, let’s go wherever it is you want to go.”

“Yay! Can we go to the roof?”

“Sure, we can take the fire esca- HOBIE WHAT THE FUCK NOT AGAIN!” Before you could even take a step towards your bedroom door, he had grabbed you around the middle and leaped out the window. Your stomach dropped as he let you both plummet almost to the ground before shooting a web to the railing that ran the length of the roof and extended a little bit over. You both shot up like a rocket and he angled you in such a way that your landing would be much gentler than his.

“The next time you do that I’m going to throw up on you,” You warned him once you got the air back in your lungs (after a little bit of wheezing).

“That’s what you said last time. Besides, ‘s like a free amusement park ride! Honestly, I’m so generous, you don’t even have to pay,” He chuckled softly, brushing past you to sit at the edge of the roof.

“Sometimes I don’t even know why I put up with you,” You muttered, carefully navigating around the looser tiles on the roof to go and sit next to him.

The atmosphere was silent, not peaceful exactly but just still for the moment. Factories in the distance were still chugging out thick smog that floated up to join the suffocating clumps in slowly strangling the city. The alleyways were dark save for a few slivers of moonlight that managed to cut through the pitch-blackness of the backstreets.

Perfect time for a philosophical conversation, right?

“Do you ever wish that that spider hadn’t bitten you?”

Hobie looked at you in surprise, his eyebrows raising slightly. He looked back over the city, leaning back on his palms. “Well… sometimes. What I mean is… sometimes I just wish I didn’t have to do this, y’know? But it’s better me than some pig. One of those bastards as Spider-Man would be a fuckin’ nightmare. For everyone who sees through Osborn’s bullshit.”

You nodded, satisfied with his answer. Truth be told, you didn’t understand much of what he said - it was 3am, it had been a long day, and the words just didn’t register in your tired brain. You closed your eyes for a few minutes, leaning on Hobie. It wasn’t very comfortable, since not only did you have to avoid impaling yourself on the small spikes on his vest, but his shoulder was also pretty bony under the fabric.

“Tired?” He turned his head to look down at you, eyes soft and sweet and filled with something you couldn’t quite put a name to right now, perhaps because of the state of your consciousness.

You rolled your eyes, having still not fully pushed away the remaining traces of grumpiness that lingered from your rude awakening. “Thanks to the dumbass who woke me up at some unholy hour.”

“Come on, you know you wouldn’t have slept anyway. At least this way you have some company.”

You opened your mouth to say something back but slowly shut it upon realising that he was right. Absolutely insufferable.

You just snorted and closed your eyes, savouring the moment as best as you can. You loved quiet moments like these, where you could ask anything and get an honest answer instead of having to mince your words — maybe you liked them more than you should, but it was fairly harmless, right?

Marriage could end in divorce, couples could break up, and young love really wasn’t a constant. You couldn’t expect something so intoxicating to retain its magic against the test of time.

So it was better to take that fierce rush of whatever it was that you were feeling and label it as platonic love. Because strong platonic love, when it was returned, was benign and beautiful and all-encompassing, all at once.

“Oi, don’t fall asleep here. Still with me?”

You felt a light touch of ridiculously cold fingers against your forehead and jolted fully awake.

“Asshole,” You complained, batting away his ice blocks for hands. “Have you been sitting and stewing in a fridge for a few hours?”

Hobie snickered at your annoyed frown and chose that moment to break into a grin, reaching into his pockets. “Oh, that reminds me, I made us matching bracelets!”

He held out two bracelets, ridiculously tiny in comparison to his fingers. They were both composed of random beads, staples, half-broken bottle caps and bits of coloured string threaded onto a loop of fishing twine. The loud, mismatched colours practically vibrated off of them in shockwaves like some sort of sonic boom of Hobie-ness.

In short, they were absolutely perfect. There was nothing that he could’ve given you that would remind you more of him. All sleepiness was momentarily forgotten as you took one of them, holding it up to examine it in whatever moonlight managed to cut through the clouds.

You gave him a smile, slipping it onto your wrist carefully. “It’s beautiful, Hobes. Thank you.”

“Ah, we’re back with the nicknames! There it is! Good to know I didn’t actually make a mistake waking you up.” His tone was lighthearted and teasing, but his smile had turned into one of affection as he watched your reaction to his gift.

There it was again. You’d seen it a few times recently, and it had been silently eating at you no matter how much you tried to dismiss it as simple friendship.

Nothing more than a tiny little flash of that puzzling something in his eyes, but something that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and not just in a way that someone would feel about their best friend. Something that gave you the courage to finally break free from the voice in your head whispering about everything that could go wrong — although that might have been because of your horrendous lack of sleep and the tiredness that was tinging each of your thoughts with just a little bit of delirium.

Screw keeping it platonic.

“Hobie,” You began, and something in your tone must have sounded different because he trained his eyes on you, his head cocking to the side slightly. You faltered slightly, trying to think of something to say. But before you could find a way to put your exhausted, confused mess of thoughts into words properly, he winced and his face scrunched up in the way it always did whenever his spider-sense went off.

“I’m sorry, I gotta…” Hobie gestured vaguely down at the alleyways, an apology practically written on his face. You nodded, ignoring the hollow pit of disappointment forming in your stomach.

“Yeah, you should go. I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” He agreed, already fishing through his vest pockets and digging out his mask. He paused to give you a cheeky grin before slipping the fabric over his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll pick a more pleasant time to drop in.”

“That’s what you said last time!” You called after him as he leaped off the building, disappearing down into the roads winding around, into and throughout the city. You stayed where you were, hugging your knees to your chest as you stared at the ever-shifting skyline. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course something came up right as you had finally mustered up the courage to say something… and yet, it felt as though he was almost expecting it. Like he wanted you to say it.

You scoffed at the absurdity of your train of thought, looping around and around hopefully like a broken clockwork toy. All wishful thinking, perhaps? Then again, maybe not. You pushed yourself to your feet, pushing open the fire escape and beginning to make your way back to your apartment. You almost missed the terrifying rush of adrenaline that accompanied one of Hobie’s daredevil manoeuvres in and out of windows on the fifth floors of buildings. Almost.

You got into bed again and switched off the light, pausing to look out of the still-open window. Oh, well...

You moved to close it, pulling down the pane of glass and latching it at the bottom.

Maybe next time.

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 (not sure if i’m missing anybody else, it’s been a while 😭)

[z0mbiew00d]

I miss them

[rune-tisms]

um. uh. um uhhhhhhhhhhh

[jestierabbit]

Ostober Day 6: Black and White

[mimikip4744]

you ever just- make random aus out of nowhere?