#If I watched the first two Cap movies again

[maddy-ferguson]

i was watching killers of the flower moon very focused on trying not to want to go to the bathroom because it's 3 and a half hours long and they stopped the movie because the ceiling was falling apart? TWO HOURS INTO THE MOVIE?

[mingisaddctn]

mind over matter | s.mg

Pairing: best friend!mingi x reader Genre: [+18] smut w/o plot Warnings: jussss smut, enjoy a/n: first fic on this blog yay

the two things you can be sure in life is that 1. you will die and 2. you've never wanted to suck a dick so bad.

I mean, you always knew that your best friend was hot — you had eyes, for god's sake! — but holy shit.

it started when you ran out of cat food. you were an attentive cat owner, don't get me wrong, but at the same time, you had the worst week for your mental state. exams after exams, studying 'till the library basically had to kick you out and group projects with lazy people... so that's how it ended up with your cat screaming at the top of their lungs and waking you up from your power nap.

mingi happened to be around because, guess what, you also forgot about your plans to watch that new anime that he rambled all about for the past month, and truly, you wanted to be able to enjoy some quality time with him, but you fell asleep as quick as his cursor pressed play on the screen, the warmth that irradiated from both inside his hoodie that you were wearing to where your head laid on his shoulder was too cozy.

so when you got up to feed the cat, your heart dropped, and you saw the grocery list accumulating dust on top of the counter, the 'cat food' underlined three times. you looked outside the windows of your small apartment and saw that the simple drizzle from before now turned into a full on storm, and all you could do was lean onto the counter and bawl your eyes out.

mingi was startled but tried to comfort you somehow, not really sure of what he could do to help, and as you tried to tell him between hiccups and tears, he quickly grabbed his jacket and told you that he would be right back.

twenty minutes later, a full-on drenched mingi stood on the doorstep, chest heaving as he took off his shoes and the same jacket, now in a darker tone from the wetness. you stared back from your couch, as you were curled into the throw blankets, eyes widened.

you almost forgot about the cat food.

in your defense, it should be illegal the way his white tee clung to his abs so sinfully highlighting each of his muscles. and when he rose his arms to take off his cap and ran his fingers between wet strands of hair that framed his cheekbones, your eyes fixated on the way his sweats clung onto dear life to his v-line.

holy fuck. jesus christ. oh my god. whatever divinity that was out there.

"you okay?" he asked, as if he was expecting your answer and you shook your head, trying to escape the trance you found yourself in.

"what? why?"

"i asked if i could use your shower" he placed the single bag with the cat food on the counter as he tried not to wet your floor.

you can use me, for sure; you thought to yourself.

"yeah, yeah, go ahead" you nodded and he took his shirt off on the way to the bathroom.

you quickly jumped from the couch to feed the cat — since that was the prime reason for all the ruckus. as you put the blocks of minced meat on the food bowl, you caught yourself fantasizing about it again.

how good he should be looking, as droplets of rain still lingered on his skin as he took of the sweatpants slowly, leaving only the boxers that perfectly held his firm thighs and secured his—

meow, you looked down, to find that a block of meat fell beside the bowl and you took a deep breath. control yourself.

you blamed the ovulation. or maybe the fact that you haven't been sexually active in a while. or that movie that had hot scenes with your favorite actor... gosh you were a horny mess.

but your life has basically been all about your studies lately, and the stress was clouding your reasoning, making you feel like impulsive decisions were now worth a lot, and that's how you found yourself standing outside your bathroom door, idly looking at it with your hand raised, on the way to give it a knock.

the thing is, the moment you found the courage to do it, the door opened from the inside, and only mingi's torso popped out, in the middle of calling your name, but now confused that you were on the other side.

all that led to the both of you sitting on the edge of your bed, with him only wearing a towel around his hips, not staring at each other as the silence overcame the storm from outside.

"so... you want to suck my dick...?" he simply repeated your words from minutes ago.

it would be comical if it wasn't so tragic.

"yes."

"are you feeling okay?" he asked.

"yes."

"'then... how should we do it?"

you took another sharp breath, your lungs almost failing you as your mind tried to disassociate from your body. leaving the bed to kneel in front of him, you kept your eyes focused on his face, his lips parted as his eyes were half-lidded. from all the years you'd known him, you knew that he was probably overthinking it and trying to figure out what was happening. but neither you could tell.

your fingers slid to the towel and as you were going to take it off, his hand flew to yours, holding it softly. he pulled you towards him in a swift movement and placed his palm on your cheek, nose now brushing against yours. soon after, you felt the plumpness of his lips onto yours.

"wait" he leaned back cautiously, as though any minor movement would startle you like a scared kitten. his eyes overthinking each and every detail. "I want to kiss you first."

and as if you were waiting for that to snap, you grabbed his neck and pulled his face lower so you could slide your tongue into his mouth. his big hands fell to your hips and grabbed firmly, decided not to let you run away.

you kinda wondered before how good of a kisser mingi was, your friends joked around saying that it must be good since he has fat lips, but you usually kept those thoughts at bay, not really wanting to dive into your hidden desires. it wasn't like you, to explore and try new things. you became friends a long time ago, and when he earned that title, you felt like it would be too messy to see him as anything else.

but you weren't dumb, of course you'd noticed how a blush crept to his cheeks whenever you grabbed one of his hoodies, or how he would stutter when others teased him about you. he wasn't good at hiding things, and you weren't good at ignoring them.

one of his hands snuck to your neck and the pulled you closer, his breathing growing heavier to the point that you could hear a faint groan from his throat.

shit, you moaned.

he let go of your face and you leaned back, a little ashamed of the noise that escaped you, but mingi didn't seem to mind, in fact, his cheeks could be mistaken to a tomato. he shifted in his place and you noticed the tent in his pants. oh.

placing a final kiss on his cheek, you maintained eye contact as you lowered yourself to your knees, hands falling to his covered member, feeling the warmth through the towel and earning a sharp gasp from him. licking your lips, you only broke the intense stare to undo the lousy knot, uncovering his lower body.

oh. OH.

how did he hide that monstrous thing all along?

"uh... pants, I guess..." he said almost in a whisper, and then you realized that you were thinking out loud.

"shit, I mean, it's not a bad thing" you placed your hand at the base of his cock, wrapping your palm around it and the boy hissed. "I just... didn't expect that."

"so you thought about it before?" touché. you deflected by giving him a slow tug.

before he could say anything else, you lowered your head and wrapped your lips around him.

"fffuck-" he let out, throwing his head back.

you started bobbing your head at a slower pace, quickening each time he groaned, and listened to his raspy moans as if they were songs hidden in heaven. his hand ran through your hair, pulling at the strands just light enough to make you whine, the vibrations helping into the pleasure.

"please—" he pled, eyes fixated on you and wet hair sticking to his face. he couldn't look any better, you noted.

mingi stared right into your soul with deep, dark eyes. his nose was flaring up and trying to keep up with the sharp breaths that left his parted mouth. it was as if he belonged in that position, and you wished that you had midas touch to keep him like that forever.

"so pretty" you said more to yourself than to him, and one of your fingers snuck into his mouth, and he wrapped those plump lips around it to suck.

feeling his tongue under your skin made shivers run down your spine, and even though you tried to take in more, he pulled you towards him once more, now landing you onto his lap. mind you, his naked lap. your pajama shorts did nothing to the mixture of pre-cum and saliva that rubbed under fabric. you hoped he couldn't feel the wetness that was forming between your legs.

kissing you again, you wondered how your teeth were not clashing at all from the desperation that exuded from both parts. you wanted him as much as he ever had wanted you, and it didn't seem like a real experience. the euphoria that overtook you made you feel almost dizzy from all the exchange in pheromones and fluids, holy fuck, you wanted to stay like that forever.

while he kissed you, mingi's hand went to the bottom of your shorts, holding you so you wouldn't fall as he took them off, leaving you in his hoodie and panties. you didn't remember what kind of underwear you wore, but you hoped to whatever god that was out there that it was something without a hole or anything.

without taking the panties off, he slid them to the side and ran both his middle and ring fingers along your folds, the new feeling making you jump a little, and he giggled. the motherfucker giggled.

"jeez... can't wait to be inside you" he said against your lips, hissing as you gave him an experimental roll of your hips.

holding your panties to the side, he grabbed his cock and aligned himself to your folds, placing the tip inside and a loud whimper fell from your mouth. you knew that it would take more effort to get him inside, he was the biggest you've ever been with, and mingi also seemed to notice that, so he touched you as if you were made of glass.

the warmth of his hot member now sheathing inside your pussy felt like too much, and the room felt foggy, just as your breaths. he kissed the side of your neck, licking up to your ear and groaning ever so slightly, as if he had noticed how much you reacted to those sounds, using them now against you.

the moment you reached the bottom, you felt as if your internal organs would combust. his dick felt like too much and too good, you drank from the sensations and the tingles that your body left each time he moved an inch, clenching around him. you reached your hands to the hem of the hoodie you were wearing, but his hand left your lower back to stop yours.

"leave it on" he looked up at your face with puppy eyes. "I want to fuck you in my clothes."

OH. FUCK.

you moaned into his mouth and slowly started to move your hips. you could've cum just from his words, but you tried your best to concentrate in making him feel good.

"you feel so good around me" he whined, a short moan leaving his lips to meet yours again.

you didn't know how you looked at that moment, probably a mess. from taking in all the sensations, his huge cock and the way he looked like a whiny mess under you... you felt powerful, and he was letting you use him to your wishes.

"please, please" he whined even more, probably taking notes that you got off from that.

"what is it, big boy?" as soon as the words fell from your mouth, you questioned yourself. is this really me?

"let me fuck you right" his hips shot up, taking you by surprise with a gasp and he bit your collarbone. "I wanna be good for you- wanna make you feel good."

"use me however you want" you said in a desperate tone. not even minding how it looked to him, you truly wanted everything from him.

with one arm sneaking around your back and the other on your neck, he moved you further into the bed, now on top of you. he didn't say anything else, only left a small kiss on the corner of your mouth and gave you a slow thrust.

the most high pitched moan fell from your lips, and you didn't care to be embarrassed. not when he was pleading for you, having your body wrapped so deliciously around him, the same as his.

you could write paragraphs and paragraphs about the way he looked; the occasional lightnings shining against his wet skin, highlighting each of his curves and muscles while his hair fell above his forehead, now a mess from the way you rushed your fingers between strands.

mingi kept rolling his hips against yours, and words kept falling randomly from your mouth, meddling with moans and sobs, you felt so cockdrunk that even the slightest stimulation coming from him could make you shed tears. felt so fucking good that got you questioning every life choice you've ever made to this point, as if everything was a part of god's plan for you to end up right under your best friend, as his touches made love to your limbs.

"hm-ugh- feels so fucking- oh my god" you kept going on and on, not even sure yourself what you were saying, but mingi wasn't falling behind.

the knot had already taken place on your lower body, each of his thrusts feeling more intense than the other. you could tell he was getting closer from the way his teeth were nipping on your neck and his thrust were growing sloppier.

"please-ah!-please, let me cum inside you" he left your neck to look at you, and you felt the knot tightening and your legs starting to tremble. "let me fill you nice and full- please"

"yes, I want all of you" you almost screamed when he took that as confirmation to grab your back and glue his chest to yours, sharpening his thrusts.

it finally snapped and you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore. he held you so close as if he could melt into your skin and become one, and with a final thrust, he whined and groaned and screamed and did everything so involuntarily, almost animalistic, and your mind was too dazed to even comprehend anything else besides the way that your pussy gripped him so tight, keeping his hot seed inside you. you didn't want to let it go.

you were still spasming from your orgasm when he let go of your body and snapped your legs apart, taking place in between them, nuzzling his nose onto your pubic bone and feasting. his tongue lapped each of yours and his juices without mind, sucking, kissing, moaning, grunting, only to prolong the way your climax came down; you screamed so hard that your lungs burned.

falling limp on the bed covers, he let go, going back on top of you with the support of his arms and knees, face leveled to yours when he placed an innocent kiss on the tip of your nose and another one to your forehead.

"did it help you de-stress?" he joked and you placed one of your arms onto your eyes.

scoffing, you shook your head. "holy shit, I'm in love with you."

he gave you a slight push and rolled to his side, still staring at you with a darker flush across his chest and neck.

"well, I'm yours" he said and you licked your lips, sneaking a glance from under your arm.

"yeah, you better be."

[erwinsvow]

“rafe, i want a soda,” you tell your boyfriend from your comfortable seat, settled under your blanket waiting for the movie to start. rafe’s talking to kelce and topper about something quietly, adjusting his backwards cap and staring straight ahead—at people you recognize as the pogues he’s been terrorizing as of late. you rise from your position, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. kelce and topper stop talking, getting into their chairs when rafe turns to talk to you.

“yes, princess? what now?” 

you should be good—rafe always tell you to keep your nose out of his business stuff, especially when he’s making his rounds at a party trying to sell coke. you usually always comply anyways, not asking questions since the first time and not caring either, as long he swears he’s safe and not doing as much of the stuff as he used to—but this isn’t about his business. you can tell there’s something going on with those pogues and he’s planning something that you want to make him stop.

“movie’s starting. and i want a soda.” 

“kelce, give her your soda,” rafe says, turning back around to finish his conversation, when you interrupt. you shake your head at kelce, who holds the pepsi can in his hand, stopping right as he was about to toss it to you.

“it’s not diet, rafe,” you comment with a sweet smile, hoping you can distract him from whatever he’s trying to talk about with his boys.

“really kid? i think you’ll be fine-”

“please, rafe?” you interrupt again, pouting. he shouldn’t have given up so easily—but your pout is one of those things he can’t resist. 

“pain in my ass, kid, really.” you smile at rafe, thanking him while he grumbles. “you better sit tight and watch this stupid movie after this-”

“popcorn too! do you guys want anything?” you turn, asking kelce and topper.

“all good, thanks princess.” you crinkle your nose and turn back, not really liking it when anyone but rafe addresses you like that—it feels like a joke when they say it.

rafe comes back with your stuff, handing it to you with a roll of his eyes, but you notice he’s smiling when you thank him. you curl up next to him on the same chair, head on his chest trying to watch the movie. you notice he’ll turn to look at kelce and topper, and then the pogues sitting ahead of you. 

each time he starts looking, you try to distract him, bringing your straw or a piece of popcorn up to his mouth, and then he looks down at you instead, with a sweet smile and a kiss to the top of your head. 

you should have guessed it would only work for so long—the two pogue boys get up and the three boys with you rise instantly too. in a desperate attempt to keep him with you, you drop the soda onto the grass and call to your boyfriend before he gets too far.

“rafe, uhm, this spilled so i need a new one-”

“one minute, princess, i’ll be right back-”

“no, rafe, wait-” but he’s gone before you can say or do anything else.

you sit in the lawn chair, too distracted to focus on the movie, worried about what rafe is gonna do to them. it’s only a few minutes later that you hear screaming, and look up to see the entire projector screen aflame. you get up immediately, panicking at the horde of people trying to get away, when you take a step backwards and bump into something hard. you yelp, but familiar hands hold you hard and guide you out back to the parking lot, hands that can only belong to your boyfriend.

you don’t get a clear look at rafe until he parks at tannyhill—a pink and red lesion on his cheek that wasn’t there before. 

“rafe, your face-”

“kid, why d’you think i’m trying to take care of business with these pogues? huh?” you’re silent, not able to compose any kind of answer that would make sense. 

“i-i don’t-”

“exactly. you don’t know. these, these pogues? they’re fuckin’ crazy. they held a gun to top’s head. they set that fire, not carin’ who would get hurt.” he watches you stare at him with big eyes and parted lips, taking in everything he’s saying. he knows it’s a little manipulative, not giving you any context or telling you he caved in pope’s face with a nine-iron. you’re listening, and paying attention, finally. “let you get away with a lot of stuff, kid. don’t make me regret it.” 

like he doesn’t know why you make him go buy soda or try to distract him with a kiss at the beach or at the club. he brushes it aside because he likes to let you think you’re getting away with it.

“have you learned your lesson about interferin’?” you nod eagerly. “good girl. now c’mon.” he takes you upstairs to his bedroom and lets you apologize down on your knees.

“good fuckin’ girl-” is what comes out of rafe’s mouth when you settle infront of him, on your knees, hands unbuckling his belt. he repeats it, but it comes out as a grunt when you take him into your mouth, big, watery eyes staring up at him while you impale your throat with his thick cock. he wipes the tears away with his free hand, the other one gripping your hair while he slides your mouth up and down with his motions.

“that’s right, nothin’ to say now, huh? good girl, don’t worry, i’ll forgive you. you gonna meddle again? hm?” he pulls you off, your mouth letting go with a little pop sound. 

“no, no, never again-”

“good girl,” and he brings your mouth right back.

[lyricswrittenbythesecretdreamer]

Haunted

“You remind me of a man I used to know.”  

I was watching the embers in the fire die, and the thought just came, out loud. The Ghoul chewed an unknown meat off the stick he’d skewered it on, not looking up to dignify my statement with even so much as a grunt. Maybe not then, I thought sadly. Maybe all the men like Cooper had died when the bombs dropped. I certainly hadn’t met a man like him since we’d said goodbye to each other at that party. Still, I continued.  

“He was a lot friendlier than you – though I suppose actors are predisposed to high levels of charisma.” I smiled to myself from behind the handkerchief covering my face, thinking of how simple the past now seemed in comparison to the present.  

“Actor?” It was first word I’d heard him speak since he told me to put out the fire that had cooked our dinner and it brought me from my daydream of my old life.  

“Yeah, actor. One of the good ones, most of the time anyway.” I chuckled to myself, remembering the tantrums he used to have on set if something wasn’t entirely accurate.  

“How would you have known an actor?”  

“Well, if you must know, I was-”   

I was cut off by a knife flying past my face and narrowly missing my eye, and then there was a body on top of mine, all flailing limbs and trying to stab me, grabbing a hold of my neck and head to hold me down. I grabbed the pocket knife hidden in my coat and wounded my attacker, before rolling the both of us over and pushing his face into the dying ashes. Their screams echoed out against the darkness of the wasteland, and I heard several gunshots. I took my pistol from my belt and shot whoever had tried to jump me in the back of his skull, letting him fall limply beside me.  

I look up through the dying light to see the Ghoul surveying our surroundings, before looking down at me and I realised with horror I didn’t have the handkerchief covering my face anymore.  

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Rosie Ryder,” he let out an audible laugh, “What are you doin’ out in the Wasteland?”  

My face went bright red, and I huffed.  

“Even after the apocalypse, people still just know me as the girl who played the hooker that got her titties out for Cooper Howard,” I rolled my eyes and sighed, “I’ve done other movies, you know.”  

“Yeah, you were great in Under the Covers,” he chuckled again, “although for you that film must have mostly been about shooting all that kissin’ you did to the poor bloke. I bet his lips were chapped at the end of every day!”  

“You a fan of Cooper Howard?” I asked, looking him up and down, “this get-up of yours seems pretty inspired by his work.”  

“You could say that, Little Miss Ryder.”  

I laughed bitterly and gestured down at the three bodies around us.  

“We should probably find somewhere else to sleep tonight, in case anyone heard the gunshots.”  

I checked the pockets of the bodies but couldn’t find anything other than a couple of caps and a gun with some ammo still left in it.  

“No chems?” he asked, and I shook my head.  

“No chems.”  

*** 

As we continued in our direction, the Ghoul became more talkative.  

“So, if you were Little Miss Rosie Ryder, you must be at least two hundred and something years old,” he began, “So how are you here right now?” 

I shrugged.  

“It’s a long, long story. We don’t got that much time, Ghoulie.”  

Eventually we came across a shabby-looking shack that looked just about safe enough for the night and might potentially keep us safe from any radstorm that might decide to descend onto us. And maybe from any raiders, too.  

The Ghoul went in first, checking the inside whilst I set a bear trap up in front of the door, before following him inside. It seemed as if someone might have been living here for a bit – there was a sofa and a little table, as well as a small counter with what looked like to be a broken-down hob. No signs of life anymore, though. Everything had a thick layer of dust coating it, and any essentials seem to have been hastily removed when the last occupier had left. 

“The walls seem pretty sturdy and the roof’s secure,” he said, “did you put a bear trap outside the door?”  

“Yeah, don’t wanna take the risk we did earlier.” I sighed. “Still, can’t help but think we’re still sitting ducks if someone breaks in. We’re not exactly in the safest area – I know at least two Raider groups who have bases nearby.” 

“They’ll break in and come face to face with my pistol aimed at their skulls, sweetheart.”  

“Oh, I’m ‘sweetheart’ now, am I? Now that you know what I look like under all these clothes?”  

The Ghoul stepped closer to me, the shadow of his hat towering over me.  

“Maybe I jus’ appreciate those actin’ skills of yours,” he murmured, “on top of that fine figure.” He stepped back from me and sat down on the sofa, slouching.  

“I’ll take first watch, Little Miss Rosie. I’ll wake you in a few hours and when the light comes, we’ll continue, and you can tell me that long, long story of yours.”  

*** 

Susie Wellington was coiffuring my hair for my first scene, as I sat tugging on my cotton skirt trying to psyche myself up for the scene ahead. We’d rehearsed it a bunch of times in table reads but this was the real thing – closed set and all.  

“Susie, I think the leading lady’s hair’s done up enough for now,” came a voice from the corner, “and you should be making your way back to the dressing rooms. I’m sure Little Miss Rosie Ryder here doesn’t want another cast member staring at her tits.”  

I looked up in relief as Cooper appeared beside us, cigarette in hand. Susie didn’t look to happy about having to leave her creation as it was, but only pursed her lips and bid me goodbye.  

“You excited for your first scene, Little Miss Rosie?” he asked, and I felt a strange sense of deja vu come over me at his words. I ignored it and put a shaky smile on my face.  

“I’m excited to get the nudity outta the way, that’s all I’m gonna say!” I giggled a bit, and he laughed alongside me.  

“Well, there’ll be a barrier in place of everythin’ and that dress of yours ain’t comin’ off completely. Gotta keep them perverts on their toes.” He winked at me, and I tried to keep the smile on my face, but under it all, I felt as if this was very dangerous.  

As he kissed me softly in front of the cameras and rolled his eyes playfully as the director asked him to push my dress up to show more of my skin, I felt something lurking in the shadows. Once this was shot, there was no going back and for some reason, I felt completely doomed.  

*** 

I woke up with a start, flinging my body forward. From the sofa, the Ghoul shushed me, holding a gloved finger over my mouth.  

I could hear something outside, and I assumed that was what woke me up. It was a strange sound, of someone dragging their feet through the dirt and the mud. We sat there in silence for a full half an hour, until the dragging sound moved away from the hut and back out into the darkness.  

“You mind takin’ the next watch, Sweetheart?” he said, “I need to get a couple hours kip in before we set off tomorrow.”  

“Sure,” I say tentatively, pulling out my pistol. “I’m glad you finally trust me.”  

“Well, I’m a huge fan.” He laid heavy emphasis on the ‘huge’, winking at me through the dusk light. I rolled my eyes, but inside I felt a little proud for some stupid goddamn reason.  

Back when I started acting, I didn’t think I’d have any living fans – never mind a half-dead irradiated man from 200 years in the future. Is he half-dead? It’d never been explained to me at the brothel – I’d just done my service and taken the RadAway. None of the others had ever stuck around to tell me their life story.  

We switched places, I sat myself down on the sofa and the Ghoul lay down on the bedroll on the floor.  

“Damn, this shit is fuckin’ uncomfortable.” I heard him say, and I let out a laugh under my bed.  

“I didn’t complain,” I whispered, and he made a grunting noise. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be an insult or not, but I just chuckled quietly and pulled out my pistol, aimed at the door ready for anyone who tried to force their way through.  

The sun rose quickly after that, and by the light of the sky, I was able to get a better look at the Ghoul’s sleeping face. There was something so familiar about him, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I decided it was the cowboy look – it reminded me of the niche I’d almost fallen into after my three-month contract with Cooper’s team. The audience had loved our chemistry on screen in The Man from Calabasas, and the studios knew they’d get a lot more money if we came as a package deal – so we shot Under the Covers, City of Starlight and Valley of the Gun together. It took me back to the last film I’d shot, the one I hadn’t finished shooting.  

I looked down at my clothes – the same clothes I’d been wearing 200 years ago on set. The ‘Western Hooker’ dress, of which there had originally been five different versions. The hat, which I’d stolen from my co-worker as a joke, but had still been on my head when we’d been told to start running. For a moment, I could still smell the food that they’d made us on set. I could still smell the horse manure, and the flashing of lights.  

I looked back at the Ghoul, awake now, and almost came to a realisation.

Part 2

[dawn-moths]

Tomura x Reader

word count: 1,300+

(You tend to Tomura’s dry, cracked hands and itchy skin while the two of you watch a movie.)

disclaimer/content warning: no warnings apply! just a lil sfw drabble in honor of tomura’s birthday. also reader has a technology/hacking quirk. enjoy!

The light from the television cast the room in a pale glow, muted colors shifting from blue to green and back to blue again as the scene of the movie oscillated between the perspective of the two main characters— the protagonist and antagonist about to come to a head.

Tomura was enraptured, unable to tear his unblinking gaze from the screen as the tense music began to pick up speed, the cuts between the two opposing sides getting faster and faster until they met on the same ground, the final fight about to build to a crescendo.

You, however, were currently focused on something much more important than a dramatic psychological thriller you’d already seen a million times.

Because, being carefully massaged between your soft little hands was one of Tomura’s big, rough palms, the skin cracked and flaking with irritation.

“Tomu…” you murmured, sort of with a concerned, sympathetic coo. “I told you… you don’t need to wait until they’re this bad to come to me. I can do it nightly, I don’t mind.”

All he gave in response was a simple hum and a barely detectable nod. You felt his hand tense slightly in yours as the fight took a turn and the villain got the upper hand. You knew that’s who he was rooting for, though, unfortunately, very few films ended with the bad guys winning in the end.

You continued to work the first layer of lotion into one of his hands, then reached over to grab the other from his lap, giving it the same treatment. It was a thin, lightweight hand cream that, for you, normally did the trick. In the colder months, maybe you would have to reapply it two or three times a day, at most, but for Tomura, you’d gathered every lotion, cream, and salve within your moisturizing arsenal to treat him with.

All it took was one look at his hands to know it was going to be a lengthy process.

“Just tell me if any of it starts to burn or sting,” you instructed him, finishing with his left hand and retaking up the right one where, just as you’d thought, the first layer of lotion had already soaked all the way in and left his hand still feeling dry, albeit slightly less rough. “And if you notice any unusual redness by tomorrow you need to—”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He appreciated your help, truly he did, but he wasn’t used to having someone fuss over him like this. The care you offered was still a foreign thing to him.

He remedied the harsher edges of his voice then by looking over and giving a small grin, chapped lips beseeching of your attention as well. Lightly squeezing your hand in his, he said, “I’ll let you know.”

That seemed to placate you, for the time being at least, and you resumed your work tending to his hands.

“You better…” you muttered with a crooked grin.

Now moving onto the second layer, you flipped open the cap of a thicker, slightly stronger eczema cream. It would help lock the moisture in better than the surface layer that you’d just finished applying. It was your favorite for whenever you, yourself, encountered any stubborn dry patches on your own skin. A few days of this stuff and your ailment would disappear. You figured it would take a few weeks to have even half the effect on Tomura, though, it wasn’t so much the appearance of his skin that concerned you. It was more so how the constant itching sensation affected him.

It was painful, you could tell. It showed in the way he flinched and hissed and scratched himself raw, carving new scars over old ones. It hurt you to watch him hurting, so whatever you could do to help him feel more comfortable in his own skin, you were more than willing to try.

“Ah, man…” you heard Tomura grumble, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “They always let the heroes win. So predicable…”

He turned his attention away from the movie— there was only about ten minutes left now anyway— and instead decided to focus more on you now.

“What’s this one do?” He half-mockingly, half-curiosity inquired, plucking up step three of your six step lotion lineup for the night. He narrowed his eyes as he read the packaging, smirk widening as he asked with a bit of a chuckle, “And what the fuck is colloidal oatmeal?”

You swiped it from his grasp, motioning for him to give you back his hand.

“It helps your skin!” was all you could offer in defense. And then, before he could tease you any further, you said, “Now stop stalling and sit still.”

To humor you, Tomura complied, though the way his entire body relaxed the more you lulled him with the soothing circles you massaged into his hand spoke to just how much he’d needed this. Craved it. He never asked for it himself, but whenever you told him to sit down and let you tend to him, he never tried to argue.

“Y’know, I’ve been trying to do some research,” you eventually admitted, “and I think I might’ve found a few products that could really give you some relief in the long term. They’re pricey but…”

“Well,” Tomura shrugged. “That’s what shoplifting was invented for.”

At that, you gave a gentle chuckle. “Well, some of these things are prescription only…” You shot him a coy glance. “Which is why I’ve also been researching how to commit prescription fraud.”

“Ah,” he replied, perking with sarcasm. “Glad to see your robbery skills are leveling up.”

You let out another laugh, opened the cap to the next ointment. “Forging medical documents might be the boss battle,” you joked.

“Yeah…” he sighed, something in his expression softening then. “But if anyone can beat it, it’s gonna be you.”

You felt yourself warming to his praise. You were his favorite little hacker, after all, your quirk allowing you to enter into any kind of technology— the internet included— and navigate through it as if it were a physical space, your consciousness traveling into the coding and giving you the ability to alter things, to fidget with and rearrange the contents like they were items on a shelf or paintings on a wall.

By now, you were nearing the end of your moisturizing process, a pile of previous lotions, potions, oils, and hand creams collecting on your side of the couch.

“How does it feel?” you asked him. He hadn’t complained about any discomfort, but you still wanted to make sure.

“Mm, pretty good, I think,” he answered. Though, what he really liked most about these exchanges wasn’t necessarily the effect it had on his skin, but rather getting to have your full attention, privately, away from the other members of the League.

He liked how meticulously you tended to his hands, making sure to get every inch from fingertips to wrists.

He liked how you touched him with such gentle care, dare it be compared to love.

“Good,” you smiled, interlocking your fingers with his as soon as you were done. After these sessions, your palms were even softer than they'd been at the start.

You snuggled against his shoulder, resting your head against it even though it was a bit boney. His hand grasped yours just a little tighter, a silent plea for you to stay here, like this, with him, for just a while longer.

“Thank you…” Tomura eventually muttered, sounding halfway to dozing off. You were starting to drift too, so you almost missed it. But once it registered to you you grinned, softly nuzzling against him.

“Anytime,” you murmured.

Anytime.

[julianalvarez9]

CHANGE YOUR MIND / MASON MOUNT

SUMMARY: You never really liked Mason Mount, even before he came to your club. Turns out, he's a very persuasive man, who will do everything he can to change your mind.

PAIRING: mason mount x ten hag!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

WARNINGS: mason is a lovesick fool, use of ten hag as a plot device i'm so sorry

AUTHOR'S NOTE: it's been agesssss since i've posted something, so here's this! (something's that's been sitting in my drafts and i didn't dare finish for almost a month!). would reallyyyy love some feedback!

Your eyes go wide at the sight of him, resting calmly over the cap of his car, hands hiding inside his pockets. Mason looks straight out of a movie; one where the protagonist is waiting for his lover outside of their home. You try to not think about that, or about the warm feeling in your chest, as you angrily make your way towards him.

Once you reach him, you're ready to voice your concerns about his presence in your parents' home. "What are you doing here?".

The urgency in your voice only made the Englishman grin harder, if that was even possible.

He shrugs, clearly not preoccupied about the matter. "Came to see a friend, offer her a ride to work". You roll your eyes, annoyed, because obviously, this is Mason. This is the same insufferable guy you've got to know for months now, ever since he signed for Manchester United.

By looking at the watch on your wrist, and knowing your dad's entire routine, you know you two are running out of time.  "C'mon, Mount, you need to leave!", you urge, and he tilts his head in confusion. "What? Why?," as if his entire life, at least, sport related, wasn't threatened by the man about to walk out the door.

"Did you hit yourself on the way here? Did you happen to forget who I live with?".

He shrugs, again, claiming "I don't mind". A second after, "he actually likes me. More than you do, at least". It's not the first snarky remark he throws your way, but it's still too early for you to pretend he hasn't got a special capacity for getting under your skin.

"I'd like to see if he continues to like you when he sees you talking to his daughter in his front yard".

You're right about that.

Yeah, Mason is your dad's new shiny toy, awarding him with being a constant feature in the starting eleven in every United game, but you doubt he'd be alright with whatever he's trying to do. After all, he never liked any of your past boyfriends, or friends who he -somehow- recognized as undeserving of his little girl, his only daughter. "I think he will," Mason says confidently, "I'm actually a great son-in-law, you know?".

You swear it is too early in the morning to have rolled your eyes the number of times you have in his presence, during the past three minutes. You ask, hopeful that the sly remark works to get him off your back. "Has being this cocky actually helped you, in some way?".

When his smile falters, you grin. It's probably the first time he doesn't have something, anything, to hit back, and you consider it a win for your side. "It did," he answers truthfully a beat after, and now his smile is bigger than ever. "Look, you're smiling at me".

You try, hard, to stop your cheeks from going red, but the way you can't really hold his stare any longer is a win for him. He basks in this feeling, knowing himself to be able to make you nervous must be a good sign, right?

At least, he hopes so.

"Okay, stop fucking around or you'll be late," you warn, coming close enough to him to push him off the hood of his car, and towards the driver's door. You try to ignore the way your fingers burn after touching him, deciding not to acknowledge the warning signs that something had changed in the past few weeks. You don’t despise him nearly as much, but you’re not keen on the idea of him knowing about it. Yet.

Mason opens the door of his car, and gets in. You nervously watch back, to the entrance door, after seeing what time it is. 9:13 AM. Your father will be out the door, any second now.

You hope that, the next time you look to the street, the car will be gone, and any trace of the Englishman vanished, like a dream. But instead, when you turn again, the tinted window of his car is down, and he's looking mischievously at you. "Already caring for me? that's new, Ten Hag".

"Go away, Mount".

Hearing the door open, just a few seconds after seeing Mason's car disappear from your street, makes your blood turn cold. The piercing question from your father doesn't make things better. "What are you doing over there?". There’s nothing you could possibly say that will convince your father, and saying the truth isn’t a possibility right now; so, instead, you defuse the question. "Nothing, nothing. Are you ready to leave now?".

The way to Trafford Training Centre is quiet. Your father isn't one to talk much normally, but the silence squishes you until you feel like you're holding your breath. He knows, you're sure, and you’re gonna make Mason pay for it. 

That’s it, if you reach the training ground alive.

"You know, I think Mason is a good kid".

The affirmation is nowhere what you had expected your father to say, so you can’t hide the furrowed brows and defensive tone that comes along with it. "We're in first name base already? Wow, that's new".

The car stops in the red light, and your dad takes the time to turn his head in your direction. He sees your fixed gaze ahead, brows still furrowed, and his head tilts in confusion. "And he's trying really hard to get in your good graces".

"That's not true".

A beat.

"I saw him this morning".

After that, you're left waiting; either, for the disapproving voice in his tone, the yelling, or the pointing out reasons why you shouldn’t be this close to a player, much less someone like him. But instead, he’s silent. And somehow, the silence is scarier.

The air feels thick, and it’s scarily similar to how it feels when a storm is brewing. Hot, too heavy, and like the entire sky is about to fall apart. And a few minutes after, with the car finally parked, and the training center standing tall just a few meters ahead, Erik begins to talk.

“I don’t have a problem with it. Whatever it is”. In other circumstances, you’d laugh at the way he signaled with his hand when saying it, almost like dismissing the entire ordeal, as if he still, so many years after introducing other boyfriends in the past few years -not one that’s worth mentioning, though-, refused to acknowledge that his little girl is not so little anymore.

“I know I always said it’s not a good idea. And I still don’t think it is,” he remarks, but holds a finger up before you can’t argue against what he’s saying, “but, as I said, he’s a good kid. And, most importantly, he’s aware that if he breaks your heart, he won’t play anymore, so-”.

The horror in your eyes must be evident, because he starts laughing before you can tell him off because of his antics. “Dad!”.

“So, you can go out with him. Just don't break his heart, yeah?” You can’t even respond because he gets off the car then, taking his things with him before closing the car door. Yes, you come in together, but since you insist on keeping family business out of the club, Erik begins making his way in alone.  “Could really use my star player having a great season".

In the distance, you can see Mason; he’s smiling widely, with a coffee cup in his hand, and standing just by the door. He opens it, to let your dad in, and you shake your head in feign disapproval.  “Right, Mount?,” Erik calls, alluding to his previous statement; the one he can’t possibly have heard, given how far he was when he said the words. Between the three of you, you’re not the only one that knows that it’s a test, so Mason answers accordingly.

“Yes, sir, of course”.

[freak-accident419]

The Little Things

Josh Futturman x GN!Reader

Summary: Upset that Josh has been overly stressed and traumatized recently, you decide to surprise him with a short getaway, a temporary escape—you were going to take him to see a dinosaur.

WC: 1.8k

Content: fluff, mentions of death, gender neutral reader, short but sweet, kissing, listening to music, quiet yet comfortable company, few curse words

(A/n: this oneshot is heavily inspired by the movie Palm Springs which was brought to my attention from something @rynsfandomsfun reblogged—it was a sweet movie. Also, don’t play the preview of the song attached, but listen from the beginning when it plays in the fic :) )

-

“Hey. Wake up…”

Your gentle voice and light shaking seemed to do the trick as you sat patiently on the edge of his bed. “Y/n?” Josh grumbles drowsily, gradually waking up as he rubs his eyes with his fingers. “Shit… what time is it…?”

You chuckle amusedly at his demeanor. “Approximately two a.m. But that’s not so important,” you answer, watching him use his arms to lift himself up against his bed frame, now in a sitting position.

He faced you with groggy bewilderment until his eyes suddenly widened once they inevitably trailed over to your lap. “Shit—Y/n, is that the TTD?” Josh gasped. The revelation seemed to have woken him up completely, his shock clashing with your nonchalant smirk. “But that would mean—”

“Yes, I stole it from Tiger and Wolf while they were sleeping. And yeah, I’m aware they’d kill me if they ever found out, but they’ll never know we even left, ’cause lucky for us, now we have a damn time machine,” you grin softly.

“‘Left’? Wait, what—what are we doing?”

You chuckle, admiring the adorably confounded look on his face. You were so thrilled to break the news to him, anticipating his reaction. “I’m gonna take you to see a dinosaur.”

You didn’t mean to get tied into all of this. Well, technically, none of you were meant to. However, Josh was your best friend, and one day, you two hung out in his room as you watched him play and attempt to beat his favorite game Biotic Wars. And you never would’ve guessed the shit you both would go through after that.

As his best friend, you knew him very well and were able to read him even if he was across the room from you. Therefore, you could always sense when he was upset and miserably exhausted. So when those two airheaded dipshits from the future constantly mistreated and belittled him, you couldn’t help but feel resentment towards them and pity towards your best friend. And the moment you saw him covered in his co-workers’ blood after him witnessing his colleagues brutally chop them up to shove inside a possum incinerator, you were just about done with all of this bullshit.

So when the day became night, you snuck into Tiger and Wolf’s weird sewer hideout, stealing their TTD. And then you snuck into Josh’s house, planning to steal him too.

Josh’s face beams as he heard your proposal, and it was probably the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile ever since he got involved in that savior crap.

“I’m gonna see a dinosaur?” You answered him with a smug nod. “You’re not fucking with me? I’m gonna see a dinosaur? H-holy—holy shit!”

You knew he wanted this before, hell, you were right there when he begged Tiger and Wolf for it back in 1969. And so, because of all the bullshit he undeservingly had to deal with, you wanted to give him a break or reward. You just wanted to see your friend happy again, like how he was before this entire mess.

In life, you had to enjoy the little things—which says a lot about your lives right now, considering that traveling back in time to see a dinosaur could be considered as such. The two of you needed a break, even just for less than a day where you didn’t have to worry about saving the world or killing people.

You take out an index card and found a pen on his desk. “What time is it?” You ask him, taking the cap off of the pen with your teeth.

“Uh, two—uh, two thirty-four,” he answered after glancing at the clock. “Am I—Am I seriously going to see a dinosaur? Are—are we actually going to the jurassic period?”

You scribbled down the time so you’d know when exactly you should get back, just to avoid any complications. “Yes,” your answer was muffled as you laugh softly, taking the cap out of your mouth to place it back over the pen. You shoved the note in your pocket then took Josh’s hand, helping him get up from his bed to stand up in his room. You open the TTD and began to play around with the controls.

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” He asked, looking over all the cryptic symbols and confusing interface, then back at you.

“Uhh, general idea,” you reply, clicking around the device some more until you finally placed your arm around his shoulder. “You ready, Josh?”

He blinked, then nodded eagerly. “Are you serious? Hell, yeah! Holy shit! No way! I’m gonna see an actual, fucking dinosaur!”

You weren’t quite used to the feeling of traveling through time, but at least it got easier every time you did. Bright blue lights and volts surrounded the two of you, feeling a gust of wind blow into your face and whole being, and even heat from the electrical currents. And then, in less than five seconds, you two appeared in a jungle, late at night, in the late jurassic period.

***

You two sat down on a thick branch of a tallish tree, the soft light of the moon kissing your faces. It was dangerous to be in such a wild and unpredictable time, surrounded by deadly, barbaric creatures, so the tree would be a pretty safe place to watch the dinosaurs from. Except the surrounding area was practically empty, so you just waited for them to emerge.

Your shoulders brushed as you enjoyed the silence between the two of you—which was actually ceased fairly quickly once Josh communicated a thought that had practically gnawed at him for days.

“Hey, I just wanna say I’m, uh… I’m sorry that I dragged you into this, Y/n,” he finally says, looking at you pitifully. He looked really nice in the moonlight, you thought. “Wolf and Tiger, they’re insane, and I—shit, if I never invited you over then none of this would fucking—”

“Hey, hey, shut up, will you?” You snickered, offering a forgiving grin. “You didn’t drag me into this. The both of us never would’ve expected any of this bullshit, okay? Like, genuinely.” Josh nodded, but you still sensed some remaining guilt in him. “Hey. If I was gonna be wrapped into this crazy fucking mess with somebody, I’m glad it was with you. You’re my best friend. My ride or die.”

The corner of his lips curled into a sweet, appreciative smile. “Thanks,” he replied coyly. “And, uh, thanks for this. I know there’s no dinosaurs right now, but… I really appreciate the gesture. Like, Tiger and Wolf, they would’ve—”

“They definitely would’ve killed me, yes,” you laughed softly. “But… you’re worth all the crazy fucking discipline.”

With this lighting, you could never see how his cheeks flushed pink. But you knew he was blushing, from how the corner of his eyes crease and the way his wide smile accentuated his cheeks, revealing his pearly white, perfect teeth. He lets out a quiet giggle, and the two of you continued to watch the horizon of the dark, yet mesmerizing prehistoric view.

You two held each other’s hands, interlocking one another’s fingers warmly, placing the clasped fists between each other. There was some kind of unspoken thing between you two that you never had time to figure out, mainly because of the recent things you’ve been dealing with. But it was still there, that strange, lingering feeling.

And then…

“Holy shit!” Josh gasped abruptly, sitting up, patting onto your shoulder repeatedly, then pointing his finger far out into the distance. “Y/n, look, shit, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n—”

“Wh—” Your breath hitched as you saw it in front of you. “Shit…”

The several long necks and small heads of brontosauruses were in the distance, peeking out of the whole jungle and its trees, walking slowly towards the left in front of the iridescent moon.

It was beautiful. You never expected it to be. Actually, you really didn’t expect anything, you thought it’d be too surreal to even process. But they were exactly like the history books. They were like the CGI graphics in film and games, the images displayed near their exhibits at museums, the small long, plastic figures that come in clear tubes, and hell, a scene from Spielberg’s Jurassic fucking Park.

“They’re beautiful…” Josh sighs in complete awe.

“They really are…” you mutter, still fascinated by it all, watching the family of dinosaurs walk slowly together, letting out low moans and stomps with each heavy step.

Abruptly, you take out your phone from your pocket, as well as some earbuds. You plug it in, help Josh with the left earpiece and put the right one in yours. And then, you clicked onto a song that you had downloaded prior.

The gentle song began to play softly in your ears. The two of you were mesmerized by the beauty and magnificence of these creatures that you never thought you’d ever see. Your head moves down to rest on Josh’s shoulder as you two admired the dinosaurs from afar. The light pressure of you against his shoulder tickled him slightly, which he gulped at, heat rising to his cheeks. Your contact against him felt warm and you felt safe. Even though this was a place where you would most likely get mauled brutally by ‘clever girl’s, you felt nearly invincible with your best friend by your side.

“This is amazing…” he whispered, astonished.

“Yeah,” you sigh, mocking his quiet speech.

A pause.

“You’re amazing…”

You slowly pull away from his shoulder curiously, your eyes leaving the direction of the large, majestic animals. Your eyes look deeply into his, again, the moonlight shining exquisitely on the side of his face, bright enough to reveal some of the hazel tint in his irises. You felt your eyelashes flutter each time you looked from his eyes to his lips. He, too, looked at you intimately and fondly. And then your eyes closed gently once you feel his lips press against yours, hearing the song continue in your ears. The entire moment felt so magical, that you weren’t sure if it was because of the fact that you were in a place where dinosaurs existed or that you were kissing the person you’ve always admired.

You pull away slowly, a silent exchange of eye contact, before kissing him again, with more passion and less hesitance, letting your hands rest behind his neck.

There were no more words between the two of you after. In a good, serene way. Parting from his lips, you rested your head back onto his shoulder, feeling his arm around you from the back and his hand holding your waist. And you two continued to watch the dinosaurs under the stars, holding each other’s hands once more. Enjoying the little things, for now.

You could let this moment go on forever. After all, with the TTD, you had all the time in the world.

[pilfappreciator]

ATTENTION TROLLS FANDOM!!

This is very important. Mostly to me but maybe you guys have been wondering this too idk but anyways:

How does troll reproduction work exactly?

Cuz I'm genuinely curious. I dont think anyone on the series production team has said anything and so far I've seen absolutely no one touch on this subject but as someone who's always had an interest in the habits of creatures (both fictional or otherwise), I kinda sorta maybe NEED to know this otherwise I'll never be able to sleep peacefully again

Full disclaimer that I'm specifically talking about the whole egg situation, I am NOT ASKING HOW THEY GET IT ON IF I WANTED THAT ANSWER I'D GO TO DEVIANT ART OR TWITTER OR WHATEVER LAWLESS PLATFORM GOD STEERS CLEAR OF. This discussion shall remain STRICTLY educational, thank you very much

But anywho. Let's dive in

So trolls come from eggs. This is basic knowledge. First instance of this phenomenon (as far as I know, I've only seen the movies) is from World Tour.

Egg pops out of Guy Diamond's hair, egg hatches and BOOM, (literal) baby. Now I understand that this whole sequence was probably just a gag and a way for DreamWorks to implement another (merchandisable) addition to the cast HOWEVER this sequence also raises a few questions

First off, as far as I know Guy Diamond has no partner (again: I haven't watched any of the spinoff shows). Either that or maybe the other troll was a sorta one-night-stand/no-longer-in-his-life kinda situation? Which is great either way cuz its shown he obviously cares for his son and we at Tumblr appreciate a loving single father no matter the circumstances, but if my former theory is correct than that would imply that trolls are capable of reproducing asexually. Like onions.

Now if that hypothesis is, as they call it, "cap" then that would mean that some sorta hanky panky has to go down before an egg comes into question. And if that's the case, does this mean that male trolls are traditionally the ones who carry the eggs?

But that can't be right, can it? Afterall, World Tour gave us yet ANOTHER egg scene later on in the movie

In Cooper's flashback, we clearly see Queen Essence being the one carrying the eggs meanwhile King Quincy is eggless. Now, as far as i see it, this could be explained either one of four ways:

1) Quincy was the one who actually produced the eggs and Essence is merely holding them for her husband (since her hair seems more fitting to be a makeshift nest compared to Quincy's)

2) Female trolls are the ones who produce the eggs. Guy Diamond is just a trans icon

3) Troll reproduction differs from genre to genre

4) There is a... *sighs* a/b/o type of dynamic among troll kind where certain trolls are capable of giving birth/siring children depending on a secondary gender

In regards to theory #3, this could also explain why Guy Diamond seems to reproduce and hatch an egg in such a short amount of time (like 5 seconds I'm pretty sure) as opposed to Queen Essence/King Quincy who's eggs presumably went a while longer before actually hatching.

Actually, speaking off eggs, are trolls the only species in their world that reproduce that way?

Because now that Band Together has officially been released, we now know for certain that it's possible for different species to crossbreed. Biggest example? Resident DILF Bruce and his giant muppet wife

(Credit to @captainunderkrupp )

When I saw these two... I swear...

And these two already have a shit ton of kids okay so like... either Brandi was the one giving birth or trollsona Daveed Digs was over here pumpin out eggs, which I mean-

DO YOU SEE HOW BIG THESE THINGS ARE COMPARED TO BRANCH AND POPPY?? Believe me I am PRAYING that Bruce gave himself some serious maternity/paternity leave because my guy is honestly a trooper

But yeah any thoughts? :))

[itsmealaiah]

C'mon, it'll be fun (Bill Kaulitz)

(those pantss)

Summary: After Tokio Hotel's concert, you all play a game which leads you and Bill to be alone.

Setting: Hotel Room

Tags/ warnings: unprotected intercourse, degrading, minor praising, and slight dacryphilia.

A/n: Thank you for the request <33 Love you 😍 😊

Your POV: 

I was lying back on my bed, watching some movie I randomly selected. It was quite interesting, however, for just an out-of-the-blue pick.

I got up to go to the bathroom, and that's when I heard a bunch of noise, like a herd of rowdy teenagers just making their way through. I shrugged it off. The band's supposed to be back in an hour, so all I have to do is wait. I sighed, I've never been overly patient. It was one of my lesser qualities.

I sat back down on the bed and took a nap. I was tired, but I had no clue what from. I didn't do much today, and now it was nearly eleven p.m. 

Another noisy crowd came through, though it sounded similar to the band. I texted Bill from my small flip phone.

"Hey, you here?" 

 I waited for his response.

 "Yeah just got back, why? Did something happen?"

I smiled at his concern before typing my answer.

"No, everything's all good, just exhausted for some reason. How was the concert? You all are more than welcome to come over and chill"

I typed, and soon I heard a knock at my door, not deafeningly loud, but still enough to get me to notice.

I undid the locks and slid the door open. I saw Bill, Tom, Gustav, and Georg. I immediately smiled, pulling the door all the way open.

"Hey guys, how was the concert? Did you sell out as usual?" I directed towards the band. They laughed and stepped into my room. "So what do you all want to do? We could watch a movie, play a game, really anything." I exclaimed. 

Tom spoke up first. "We could play spin the bottle," He said in his thick accent, smirking. "It's one of my favorites." I nodded in agreement and grabbed an empty plastic water bottle. "Will this do?" I questioned curiously. "That's perfect" Tom took the bottle from my small hands. "Grab some alcohol from our room, here's the card" Tom spoke, placing the object in my hands. 

I walked quickly to their room, unlocking the door. It was a mess, food, hairspray, jewelry, caps, hair ties, clothes, everything a human could possibly ever need, all sprawled out across the room, like a screwed-up game of clue. I found the alcohol, and took two bottles with me, just to be sure we wouldn't run out. 

Closing their door and walking back to mine, I was extra careful with the drinks. I knocked on my door, and Georg answered. "You got it!" He cheered, and I shut the door behind me as he let me in.

"Alright, so here's how this is going to work," Tom announced, and I saw there was a small bowl filled with scraps of paper sitting in the middle of the four. "If the bottle lands on you, pick a truth, or dare, from the bowl. If you think it's too sensual or too odd, you don't have to do it, but with a catch, you have to drink a shot." 

My eyes widened a little at those last words as I sat down. Tom spun the plastic bottle, and it landed on Gustav. He laughed and leaned over to pick a piece of paper. "Looks like a dare," He chuckled. "Take off a piece of clothing" He read it aloud and shook his head. "No way" He grabbed a small cup, poured the alcohol into it, and downed it quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. "That was strong" He gasped out. The rest of us laughed. Tom spun the bottle again, and this time it landed on Bill. Tom chuckled as Bill grabbed another small paper. "Go into our room with y/n" He read, face flushing. 

I gasped and shook my head. "Uh, I'm okay" I stuttered, looking down nervously. Tom booed and Bill gently rubbed my upper arm. "C'mon, maybe it'll be fun" He whispered in my ear, the band watching intently. I sighed and he led me to their room. I sat on the edge of the bed, heart thumping lowly. "So what do you wanna do?" I asked hesitantly. He smirked. "Maybe we could..have fun?" He neared closer to me and I backed further onto the bed, trying to get away.

He pinned me down and smiled. I squirmed, whining. "Just relax liebe, it's fine" He nipped at my neck, slowly leaving marks. I moaned, arms becoming less tense. "Feels good doesn't it?" He whispered against my soft skin. I nodded, and he pulled off his shirt. He lifted my arms up, sliding my top off, leaving me in my lacey bra.

"You okay?" He takes my shorts off, leaving me almost fully exposed to him. I nod slowly, a lump in my throat. "Good" He unclips my bra and tosses it to the side. The cold air hits my frame, making me shiver. "Can I take this off beautiful?" He tugged at my panties, and letting it go, snapping it against my waist. "Mhm," I mumbled. Dragging them down, I was now exposed to him completely. I looked at him, his brown eyes coated with lust. 

"You're so fucking adorable" He leaned down, kissing my lips roughly. I gasped into his mouth. He was biting my lower lips so much so I thought they were going to split and bleed. I grabbed his long black hair, tugging on the ends. He groaned "That feels so good schatzi, keep going."

I pulled his lips off of me, eyes begging for him to do more. He smirked. "Tell me what you want my love," I thought for just a second, a quick second. "I want you, Bill, only you" I sighed out. He moved his head lower, eyes trailing over my chest. His lips wrapped around my nipple, making me cry out. "Bill! Ah-" I moaned, back slightly arching.  He licked and sucked, tongue lapping. 

"Fuck, Bill" I mewled, eyes rolling back. "My little toy, I haven't even started yet" I moaned again, loudly, and his hand clamped over my mouth. "Not yet baby, I'll make you scream soon enough" He smirked.

Lowering his head to my heated core, he looked at me with those doe eyes, as he began to eat me out. "Just relax, I'll make you feel so good" He gasped out, tongue plunging into my hole. His hands held down my thighs. "You're shaking so much, schlampe, relax" He pleaded, gazing at me while his tongue was pleasuring my area. 

His long, slender fingers were pushed into me and I screamed in delight. His eyes met mine and he stopped. I whined "No, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to" I tried pleading. He unbuttoned his pants, sliding down his boxers. "I told you to wait." His voice was firm as he flipped me over and smacked my ass hard. Tears made their way down my face as he continued smacking me intensely. I knew they were going to leave very red marks. I sobbed, and he stopped. 

"Dirty little hure, did you think I was done with you? Bad girls get punished." He pulled my hair, thrusting my head backward in pain. I groaned. "Now, since you didn't obey me little hundin, I'm really gonna make you scream." He pushed my face back into the pillows, making it a little hard to breathe. He entered me slowly, each inch stretching me out. I sobbed into the pillow as he thrusted in and out at such a fast pace, I thought I was gonna split in two.

My muffled sobs echoed through the room, as I gasped for even the tiniest bit of air. He didn't stop, which had me worried. 

"You don't cum until I say so, you hear me? If you do, I don't stop till you break" He uttered, holding me down. I nodded, and he leaned down, breath warm along the side of my neck. "You got that bitch?" I whined, and he bit my neck harshly, making me wince. "Do you hear me you little brat?!" He yelled in my ear.

I nodded again, and he flipped us over, still inside of me. "Ride," He said calmly, a little too calm. I was sitting on top of him, thighs covering his waist and evident star tattoo. He pinched my sides, letting my eyes flutter open fully. "Ride" He repeated, hips thrusting up into me. I moaned, letting him sink inside me before I began to slide up and down on his length. 

"That's a good girl, taking me so well" He placed his hands behind his head. I was still tearing up, exhausted. "Bill, can we please stop?" I asked, panting as I slid slowly, making him moan even so. "After we cum" He spoke, grabbing hold of my hips once again. I went faster, wanting it to end. My makeup was smudged, and what was left was running down my wet face in black streaks. 

I released on him, and so did he, coating my inner walls. My thighs and lower body shook. "Wait here" He caressed my face before pulling out and going to the bathroom. I whined, flopping onto the soft mattress. He came back with a box of tissues, wiping me gently. "You did so good schatzi, so proud of you" He cooed, kissing my eyelids and nose as he held me in his arms. I nodded off, falling asleep.

Tom and the rest of the band's POV:

"Holy shit" Georg spoke, eyes widening. "They really got into it" He backed away from the wall between the two rooms. "I didn't know he had it in him," I said, smirking. "Me either" Gustav sat down on the bed. "Where's my fifty bucks asshole?" 

A/n: Praise Jesus, I finished. It took 2 days, but here you go. Hope you enjoyed xx alaiah ❤️ 😘

1640 words

[chericherixo]

+ 'Blueberry Muffins' +

Poly! Mattheo x Fem!Reader x Theo

- [fluff] - modern au! - Mattheo and y/n are baking in the kitchen when Theo comes home from work. He joins in and they end up having a flour fight. Fluff fluff fluff and ends in cuddling <3

You and Mattheo were in the kitchen, trying to decide what to have for dinner. Any nutritional food didn't sound good, and all he was craving was something sweet.

"Brownies?"

"We're out of chocolate and I'm not in the mood to get high right now." You argued,

"Hmm... Strawberry danish?" He suggested,

"I don't even know where to begin to make that."

Then, Theo walked in the door, coming home from work. You both smiled as he kissed you, then Mattheo. "Hello gli amori. What are you two up to?"

"We're trying to decide what to make for dinner." You said,

"And let me guess.. you two don't want real food." You both shook your heads. "How about, blueberry muffins?"

Mattheo smirked, "That sounds amazing.. you're amazing." Mattheo kissed him again, expressing his gratitude for bringing up the solution.

You all started gathering ingredients and Theo brought up a recipe. "So how was work babe?" You asked,

"It was fine, I just missed you guys all day and couldn't wait to come home." He walked up and wrapped his arms around you from behind. "Mi amore." He began kissing down your neck lovingly and Mattheo smiled and came over to kiss you. You giggled and tried to break free from their grip.

"Come on, let's start on things." They smirked and started mixing ingredients together. Needless to say, baking with three people, (as long as they cooperate), makes things a lot more efficient.

Unfortunately, the peace didn't last long. Mattheo, feeling particularly playful, got some flour on his finger and booped Theo. Theo shook his head in shock trying to process what happened. "Excuse me?" Mattheo's face suddenly turned cold, realizing his fate. "I'm sorry- I-" Theo laughed and in an instant he threw a small handful of flour at Mattheo's face. "Guys!"

In response, Theo threw a handful at you as well, leaving you covered in flour. "Oh no you did not-" You grabbed a handful of flour and shoved it in Theo's hair.

"Not my hair!" Theo cried, and you and Mattheo laughed. At least, until Mattheo threw flour at you while you were laughing. You coughed for a minute, but once you regained your senses, you attacked Mattheo back. "You guys can't team up on me. I'm just a girl!"

"Oh tesoro, we know what you're capable of." Theo smirked, "Don't play innocent." You blushed heavily and tried to put your focus on the muffins. The boys fooled around for a few while you poured the mixture into the muffin tray. "Ok, put some blueberries in."

Mattheo and Theo both sprinkled some blueberries in and looked at the muffins proudly. "We make a pretty good team." Mattheo said happily,

"You're figuring that out now?" You laughed and moved to put the muffins in the oven. "Well we have 30 mins.. do you guys want to start a movie?"

"Sounds perfect principessa." Theo picked you up and carried you to the bathroom and Mattheo followed, "let's get cleaned up first."

You all put on fresh pajamas, and you helped Theo and Mattheo get all the flour off their faces. They returned the favor. "What about Theo's hair?" Mattheo asked, and you pulled out a shower cap.

"No." Said Theo, and you giggled.

"Come on, you're not getting flour on our couch. So, until we shower later, shower cap." You held it out to him proudly. He reluctantly took it from you and put it over his hair. "Pretty :)" He sighed and kissed you, "Only because I love you."

You all walked out to the living room and turned on a movie you three had been wanting to watch. Mattheo happily snuggled in and rested his head on your chest, whereas Theo laid against you, his head resting on yours.

"I love you guys so much."

"I love you to y/n."

"I love you too, gli amori."

(The muffins were delicious.)

[the-marshals-wife]

Refuge (Sierra Six x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: It's official: I'm obsessed with The Gray Man. I've watch it 3 times so far in under 2 months, and I really wanted to write something sweet for my current favorite Goose character.

Description: Sierra Six/Courtland Gentry x Fem!Reader, established (secret) relationship; flirty, steamy fluff + angst if you squint | Warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, alcohol | Setting: post-movie | Word count: 1,746

Gif credit: user magnusedom

Imagine Six returning to you, his best kept secret, and asking you to come away with him

There was only one thing in the world that could make you open the front door of your apartment after midnight. The instant you recognize the familiar, distinct sequence of knocking, you shoot upright from your slumber and scramble off of the sofa, the book on your chest flying across the floor from where you had dozed off. Having almost tripped on the rug, you release the dead bolt and frantically fumble with the chain lock. Heart pounding, you slide it loose and jerk open the door.

Waiting on the other side like an apparition was a smiling face you weren't sure you'd ever lay eyes on again.

"Sorry for the late hour, ma'am. Could I trouble you for a cup of sugar?"

"Court!"

You couldn't help it. His name, the name only you could use, escapes your lips like a cry.

"May I come in?" he gestures.

You grab his arm and usher him inside.

"Where have you been?" you asked in a hushed voice, looking over him.

"Here, there, everywhere," he answers, leaning back against the closed door. "Spent a little time in nowhere too."

"I've been so worried about you! I haven't heard from you in months. I know that's the job, but it's been so long without a sign or anything. I was afraid something happened to you. I didn't know what to think," you say all at once.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll explain everything, I promise. Just, let me look at you first," he says, gazing on you softly, "Wow. How is that possible?"

"What?"

"How are you more beautiful than the last time I saw you?"

You feel your cheeks turn red, but it doesn't keep you from pointing a finger to his chest.

"If you think being a smoothie is going to get you out an explanation," think again, buster."

He wraps his arms around your waist.

"Fair enough," he nods, "It's still true though. You're even prettier when you're angry."

"I must be stunning then," you smirk.

He brings his hand up to lift your chin, leaning in close, "Incredibly."

The waning space between you vanishes as he captures your lips. You lean into his touch, savoring every sensation you'd missed so much. From the warm, smokiness of his scent to the gentle scratch of his beard on your skin. When he finally pulls away, you're nearly breathless.

"Why don't you make yourself at home, stranger?" you propose, composing yourself, "You want a drink?"

"I wouldn't say no to a beer," he replies.

"Coming right up," you say, turning towards the kitchen, "They feed you in 'nowhere'? I got half of a leftover sub here, and some really leftover pizza I can nuke in microwave."

"Tempting, but I'm good for now, thanks. Just the beer," you hear him say as you grab two bottles from the fridge.

"Good call, honestly. We can just order take out or something."

He doesn't respond, and it immediately catches your attention. You grab the bottle opener from the drawer and make quick work of the caps. With a faraway look in his eye, he stands on the other side of the modest island that separates the kitchen area from the living area. You extend the bottle towards him, and even when he takes it from your grasp, he's barely shaken from his silent reverie.

Too worried to imbibe, you set your own drink down on the counter. "Court, what's wrong? I can tell something is bothering you."

He takes a drink, which is followed by a long pause.

"Do you remember Fitzroy's niece, Claire?"

You nod. "Of course. Is she alright?"

"She is now," he sighs, setting his jaw, "Fitzroy is gone."

"What?" you say, rounding the island to be at his side.

"It's a long story, but some bad people got ahold of Claire to get to him, because of something that I did. We took care of it in the end, but...he didn't make it."

He takes another hefty drink and puts down the bottle.

"Court, I'm so sorry," you say, touching his arm, "I know how much he meant to you."

He turns to face you. "He did. Now Claire has no one, except me. And that's what I came here to talk to you about."

Your pulse quickens at the seriousness in his voice.

"Her and I have been on the run the past couple weeks. Staying ahead of Carmichael and his goon squad."

"Wait, you escaped the agency?" you ask, shocked.

"Didn't have a choice after they tried to use her as leverage to get me to keep doing their dirty work. I got her out, which means I'm out too, for good," he confirms solemnly, "I've found a place for us where we might actually have a shot at a normal-ish life."

You stare at him wide-eyed.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying...I'm all she has left. She needs me. And I need you," he says, gently rubbing your upper arms, "Before, I couldn't give you the life you deserved. But this could be my second chance. I think I might have finally gotten to the top of the hill, and I want you there with me."

"Oh Court, I don't know..." you hesitate, mind reeling, "I don't know anything about raising a kid."

He grins. "Neither do I. We can figure it out together. I mean there's gotta be a manual or something, right?"

You can't help but snort at the idea. Just as more protests are forming on your tongue, he gives you a look so disarming that you forget the words entirely.

"Come away with me, Y/N."

He takes your hand in his.

"It won't be easy, and it definitely won't be perfect. I know I've got no right to ask you to leave everything behind. But I've loved you from the very beginning, and I will protect you with everything I have."

His vow brings tears to your eyes. He laid his heart bare, and in doing so, he'd banished the last of your meager doubts.

"Well, when you put it that way," you say.

You grab the collar of his jacket in your fists and pull him into a kiss. He hums in pleasant surprise and laces his fingers through your hair. After another heated moment of rediscovery, you at last loosen your grip and surface from the embrace.

"Is that a yes?" he chuckles.

"It is," you answer, your smile becoming nervous as your thoughts turn to the future, "Do you think Claire will like me?"

"Oh, don't worry, she's going to love you," he smirks, letting you go and walking over to the window. "Honestly, I'm not sure I'm going to survive you two. This was probably a bad idea."

"Now I really I can't wait to meet her," you tease.

Your amusement fades, however, as you watch him part the curtain and cautiously peer up at the surrounding rooftops.

Dread stirs in the pit of your stomach.

"How much time do we have?" you ask.

"We should probably get you packed up," he says over his shoulder.

"Really? I thought we'd at least have tonight. Are you being followed right now?"

"Not yet. No one knows about this place. But the longer I'm here, the greater the possibility that changes," he frowns, "I need to get back to Claire. I took a risk coming here. She can't be alone for long."

You mind begins to race as your gaze darts around your apartment and belongings. The framed pictures scattered across the walls of old friends and family you hardly see suddenly meant more than anything tucked away in the safe beneath your bed. But could you even take them? Would having any ties to your old life be too dangerous?

Old life. The thought makes your head spin.

"This is happening so fast," you say as you rub your temples, "I never thought I'd just leave everything. I don't even know what to take with me."

"Hey," he says, stepping back over to you, "It's alright. Listen, I know I got caught up in pouring out my dumb old heart a minute ago, but you don't have to do this, Y/N. If you want to stay, I understand."

"No, I'm coming with you," you deny, "I want to be with you, no matter where we have to go. I've never wanted anything more. You have made it to the top, Court, and I wouldn't miss the view for anything."

All this time, you had been the only refuge in the world for "Sierra Six". Now, more than ever, he was becoming yours.

He kisses your forehead softly and smiles down on you.

"How about we just start small, and go from there. Baby steps. Like, maybe a suitcase?" he suggests.

"Sounds good," you agree, "Guess I don't need to pack the kitchen sink for wherever we're going?"

He snickers, "No, we have one of those. Got one in the bathroom too. We even have a toilet."

"I wasn't expecting such luxury," you smirk.

"I mean you have to hold the handle down a little to get it to flush, but other than that," he quips.

"Well, I suppose I'll survive," you say in mock exasperation.

"We do have a TV, so that kinda makes up for it. Plus, I got queen bed all to myself. I might could be persuaded into sharing, though."

You cross your arms, eyeing his suggestive look.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, but you'll have to sleep on top of the covers. I don't wanna get your girl germs on my sheets."

"Courtland Gentry," you grunt, smacking his arm.

You take off down the hall to your room, and he follows after you laughing.

"What? What'd I say?" he asks, knowing full well.

"Why don't I just sleep on the floor?" you pose.

You bolt over to your dresser and start rummaging through your clothes, keeping your back to him.

"Okay, you're right. That was unfair of me," he concedes.

Biting your lip, you spin around with your eyebrows raised.

He stands in the doorway, pulling a stick of gum from his pocket and unwrapping it, "You can get under the comforter."

You throw a shirt at him, shaking your head.

"Shut up and help me pack."

He pops the gum in his mouth and smiles.

"Yes ma'am."

[themidnightcrimson]

ghostface ࿏ wm

summary: in which wanda has been missing for months, and the last place you expected to find her was behind a ghost mask with a knife in her hand.

words: 7.7K

warnings: ghostface!wanda, top!wanda, fem!reader, blood kink, knifeplay, dubcon/noncon, cumstrap (r receiving), horror and fear, lots of blood, some more blood too, also there is blood

this post is a dark!fic and is for 18+ only. minors dni.

masterlist.

Steve passed behind the couch and handed a bottle of beer over your head. “Thanks, Rogers,” you said as you took the chilled bottle, handing it to Natasha who sat beside you on the couch for her to open it for you.

You watched as Nat reached into the pocket of her leather jacket and took out her switchblade, flicking the lever so that the dainty but incredibly sharp knife popped up in front of her face. The light from the movie playing on the television in the dark room reflected off the spotless blade. She smirked a little, always proud to show off her knife skills, as she took your beer bottle and used the knife to pop the cap, cold smoke hissing from the bottle’s rim. She handed it back to you and tossed the cap onto the pile of beer caps sitting on the coffee table in front of you. The three of you had really blown through several cold ones that night.

You, Steve, and Natasha had recently started having weekly Friday movie nights. Each Friday, you got together in Natasha’s homely little apartment and ate pizza and drank beer while watching a scary movie of your choice. Naturally, Natasha chose the Texas Chainsaw Massacre the first night, and the next week, Steve chose the original black and white Frankenstein movie which he said was scary enough for him. This week it was your turn to choose, and you had chosen The Conjuring.

Steve winced from behind his beer bottle as the movie played. He looked funny, a large muscular man, cuddling up on the old blue recliner and struggling to hold his stomach down as the movie played. Natasha watched it with wide eyes that didn’t blink and an amused smirk on her lips. You were somewhere in the middle, not as easily bothered as Steve but not coldhearted sociopath like Nat. Still, when something did get to you, you always grabbed Nat’s arm and hid your face in her hair.

Things had been different the last few months. Before, there would be two more people in your party—Wanda and Vision. They were soulmates in the form of best friends, although everyone knew Vision had a crush on Wanda. Although she found him annoying, he was a doting friend whom she cared a lot about—you all cared a lot about.

Two months ago, Vision was driving when his car was struck by a large truck losing control. He died twice—once on the road, his bloodied bodied having flung through the windshield and onto the concrete where his head cracked. The paramedics were able to revive his pulse and take him to the hospital. In the middle of an emergency surgery that was supposed to save his life, his pulse stopped and did not come back.

The worst part was that Wanda was there the whole time—in the car with him before the wreck, crouched over his body as the paramedics resuscitated him, holding his hand in the screeching ambulance, and outside the room when the doctors pronounced him dead again. Vision had died twice—and Wanda watched each time.

It was Vision’s dying wish to have his body dedicated to science, so there was no burial. When Wanda completely disappeared, there was not even a funeral held. No one had seen or heard from her since Vision died, and you remembered that every time you saw your friends. Her absence was unignorable.

When the movie was finally over, Steve insisted that you watch something lighter so that he could feel better before going home. Natasha laughed as he put Bluey on.

“God, I feel drunk,” you groaned as you laid your head back against Nat’s sofa and cast your legs across her lap. “We drink too much.”

“You drink too much, bunny,” Nat remarked as she opened another beer for herself. “You’ve gotta remember you’re still a lightweight.”

“Have some water,” Steve said, grabbing a water bottle from the table and tossing it to you. The water felt refreshing on your tongue as you chugged half of it in one go.

“Woah there, everything you just drank is gonna come right back up,” Nat laughed, gently taking the water bottle away from your mouth as you swallowed the last bit and wiped the stray drops from your mouth.

Feeling antsy from the movie, Steve opened his phone and checked his messages. You watched as his eyebrows sewed together, his eyes widening. “Guys.”

“What?” Nat sighed, casually casting an arm over your shoulder as she stared mindlessly at the TV.

“Sam just sent me this article,” Steve said, turning the phone so that you and Nat could see the screen. “Apparently, we got a killer on the loose.”

Natasha leaned forward with concern, reaching over you to grab Steve’s phone so she could read it. You peered over her shoulder and saw that the article said there have been multiple fatal stabbings across the city in the past week all linked to one unidentified suspect. Out of abundance of caution, the police department was issuing a citywide curfew starting at 11 p.m. and warned citizens to be on the lookout for a tall, cloaked individual wearing a white ghost mask.

“Ghost mask,” Natasha remarked as her eyes read over the words at the same time as yours. “Jesus Christ.” She handed Steve’s phone back to him.

Steve sighed and read over the article again. “What has the world come to?”

Your face was set in an expression of concern as you thought over the circumstance, and then you remembered that the city has issued a curfew. Grabbing Nat’s wrist, you turned it and looked at the time on her watch. “It’s 10:50. The curfew starts a 11.”

“Shit,” Steve groaned in realization, looking at his watch, too.

“You guys can just stay here tonight,” Nat offered, sitting up with urgency.

“Nah, Nat. I have to train early in the morning,” Steve said, pushing his phone into his pocket and downing the last of his beer before slamming it down on the coffee table. “And after that movie, I’m barely gonna get enough sleep tonight as it is.”

“I bet I could make it home before 11 if I leave now,” you said, standing up to your feet.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Nat said as she sprung to her feet with you. You looked at her questioningly, and she tilted her head and hesitated. “If there really is a killer on the loose, you shouldn’t be walking home alone at night, curfew or not.”

“I need to get home to feed my neighbor’s cat,” you argued. Nat’s eyebrows raised, and you sighed and explained, “She went on vacation for a week, and I’m supposed to feed the cat every night. It’s already so late—the kitty’s probably starving by now.”

“Then let me walk you home.”

You tilted your head like hers. “Then you would be the one walking home alone, silly.”

“I’ll get her home,” Steve announced as he slipped his brown jacket on. “Her apartment is on the way to mine.” Nat stared at him, not very convinced. “It will be fine, Nat. But if she’s going to leave, we need to do it now.”

Throwing her head back in frustration, Nat gave in. “Fine. But you better use yourself as a human shield if a guy in a ghost mask jumps out of an alley at you.”

Steve crouched and leveled his fists in front of his face, punching the air in front of him. You and Nat just stared blankly at him as he straightened and smiled sheepishly.

“Aren’t you the one who just nearly pissed your underwear from a scary movie?” said Nat.

“That’s demons!” he argued. “I’m a total boss in real life.”

“Don’t ever say total boss again,” Nat grumbled as she picked up your jacket from over the couch and slipped it over your arms gently. Nat was always extra caring and protective over you. Whether it was a best friend thing, a sister thing, or something more, she always did everything possible to make you feel safe and taken care of, especially after Wanda disappeared. She knew how close the two of you were and how much it affected you when she up and left.

Natasha walked the two of you to her front door, Steve leaving first and you following after. Before you passed through the door, you stopped, turning to Natasha who stood close to you.

You hesitated. You had asked everyone you knew this question a million times, almost every other day. You felt annoying and absurd, but you just couldn’t help the constant gnawing feeling inside you that was driving you crazy. But you knew Nat would never judge you.

Natasha read the concern on your face, crinkling her brow and leaning closer to you. Looking up at her, your lips opened a few times before you whispered, “Have you heard from Wanda?”

She must have assumed that was what you were going to ask, because her lips pressed into a straight line and her eyebrow softened. “No, I haven’t bunny,” her raspy voice assured you.

Disappointed, you sighed and looked at the ground. Nat’s hand met your shoulder, her warm palm rubbing it comfortingly.

“She just needs some time.”

“It’s been two months, Nat.”

“Everyone grieves differently, bunny,” she told you as she had told you a million times before, after each time you had asked her. “She’s grieving Vision, and you’re grieving her. Just as you want her to move on, you need to move on, too.” Hearing someone tell you to just move on was never the best advice, but with the way Nat was holding your shoulder and the gentleness laced in her voice, as if she was afraid that talking too loudly might break you, you found it assuring.

“Okay,” you whispered. She gave you a look questioning if you were okay, to which you answered with a slow nod and a soft smile.

“10:52!” Steve called from down the apartment hallway.

Nat quickly leaned forward and kissed the top of your head. “Be safe, bunny.”

“You, too.” You patted her arm and turned away, catching up to Steve who led you down the stairs.

Everyone had taken the curfew seriously, because the streets were nearly empty as Steve walked you home. He talked about all the training he had to do in the morning, to which you disinterestedly listened because it comforted you from the dark, quiet streets. Once you finally made it home, Steve hugged you goodbye and left to go to his apartment just a couple blocks over.

First, you took out the key your neighbor had given you and went into her apartment, being met with her orange and white cat who was already meowing at the door when you walked in.

“Hi, kitty,” you cooed, leaning down to rub the cat’s back as he pushed his forehead against your shin, his tail curling around your calf. “I’m sorry kitty, I know you’re so hungry.”

You got the food out from the cabinet where your neighbor kept it and poured it into the cat’s bowl, watching him instantly settle down into proper loaf position to hungrily eat.

“I’ll be earlier tomorrow,” you promised him, giving him a few more pets before you watered your neighbor’s succulents and then left, making sure the door was locked behind you. A door down, you entered your own apartment, sighing and letting your back lean against the cool door for a moment.

Coming back home alone was always depressing. You didn’t understand. You had lived alone for years because you liked it that way—you liked having your own space, your own things, your own comfort zone to relax in. The past two months, the emptiness was deafening.

“Maybe I should invest in a cat,” you murmured to yourself as you slid your jacket off and hung it on the coatrack.

After taking a shower, you still felt a little too tipsy to sleep. Plus, as braver you were than Steve, the movie did have you feeling a little on edge. So instead of going to bed like you normally would, you dragged your favorite fuzzy blanket from your bed to the couch and turned on Bluey, starting where you left off at Nat’s. You also got a bowl of Lucky Charms both for comfort and because you needed your stomach to settle from all the pizza grease and alcohol.

Five minutes into Bluey and stuffing your face, you felt your phone ringing from the table beside the couch. Crunching on the cereal, you glanced over to your phone that vibrated, moving slightly atop the table. It was Nat’s contact lighting up your phone, the screen filled with your favorite picture of her where she’s wearing a green face mask with a cucumber slice over one eye, her other eye squinting open.

Shifting the bowl to your right hand, you reached to your left and grabbed the phone, tapping the answer icon and bringing it to your ear.

“Yes, I made it home safe, Nat. Steve didn’t get stabbed, nor did I, and everything’s safe. You can sleep soundly tonight,” you immediately answered with a little giggle, already knowing that she was calling to bombard you with questions about if you made it back safely.

There was a beat of silence where all you heard was Bluey playing in front of you and the distant sounds of your neighbor’s cat meowing. A staticky hushing sound flooded through your phone’s speaker, and then a voice.

“Speaking too soon?”

The left side of your face where the phone was pressed tingled at the unfamiliarity of the voice in your ear. It was a strange, raspy voice, and you could tell almost instantly that it sounded audibly modified.

You second guessed yourself—was it someone else who called you? You took the phone away from your ear and looked at it again, but it was still Nat’s name in heart emojis and the picture of her in the green face mask with the cucumber slice over her eye. You brought it back to your ear, eyebrows sewing in confusion.

“Who is this?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” the voice drawled, low and hoarse in your ear, a tone of excitement laced in their voice.

You couldn’t help but feel a tendril of fear in your chest as the logical side of you tried to sort through all the possibilities of why Nat’s number had called you, yet you were not speaking to Nat.

“Is this a scam caller?” you blurted. “I know they figured out how to make it look like one of your contacts is calling you, but I’m not interested in your multilevel marketing scheme tonight, okay, buddy? Try again with a geriatric and maybe you’ll catch your luck.”

You were about to hang up before the voice spoke again, loud but hushing in your ear. “Let’s see… The Texas Chainsaw Massacre? No, that’s Natasha’s. What about Frankenstein? No, you’re too young for that. That would be more of Steve’s liking, wouldn’t it?”

Your lips fell open as the voice piqued your concern again. This definitely was not a scam caller, because there was no way a random stranger would know not only your friends’ names, but also which movies they had picked for movie night the last two Fridays in a row.

“What about… The Conjuring?!” The person’s voice rose in excitement, blaring through the speaker of the phone. A hissing laugh flooded the line, and your heart was starting to noticeably pound in your chest.

“Sam?!” you confidently asked, despite the seeping fear in your chest. Sam would know what you all had watched together, and he would definitely be the one to prank call you using a voice modifier just to scare the shit out of you.

“Is Conjuring your favorite movie, y/n?”

Your body froze as your brain started to run out of possibilities as to who it could be. The sounds of Bluey and the neighbor’s cat started to drown out of your hearing, your hand on your bowl of cereal turning sweaty and hot.

“Why don’t you put the Lucky Charms down so we can have a proper conversation?”

A gasp struck out of your throat as you set the Lucky Charms down harshly on the table, a few marshmallows and some milk spilling out of the bowl and onto the table. Pushing your blanket off your body that was now growing hot, you turned around to look around your apartment. The kitchen was empty, and so was the bathroom that you could see into, and so was your bedroom whose door was open.

“Who are you?” you demanded shakily, whipping your head to the window where your blinds had broken and hadn’t been replaced, looking out at the fire escape and seeing no one there.

“Don’t turn your head too hard there, y/n. You’ve had a lot to drink tonight, haven’t you?” the sinister voice said over the phone, and now your entire body was starting to throb in fear.

“If this is a prank caller, you should know my friend is a hacker and she will find out who you are,” you said, jumping up to your feet and turning in circles around your apartment even though you still saw no one there.

“One… two… three… four…” The voice counted, and on the other end of the line you could hear the light clinking of metal. “Thirteen… fourteen… fifteen! Fifteen beer caps!”

Your eyes went wide and instinctively started to moisten as you realized that the sound of metal was the pile of beer caps that the three of you had built on Nat’s table.

“Oh, you said your friend is a hacker? Are you talking about Natasha? Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Natasha won’t be helping you out with anything anytime soon—or ever.”

Could it be Natasha herself prank calling you? That would be extremely out of the blue for her, since she seemed so worried about you walking home and she knew you were feeling extra sensitive about everything that had happened in the last few months. There was no way she would do that. But it was Nat’s number calling you, and there was the sound of the beer caps in her apartment, and the words of the person telling you that Nat was in some way incapacitated permanently.

“I’m calling the cops!” you yelled, taking the phone away from your face and instantly ending the call. Your trembling fingers fumbled to go back to the call app and dial the local police station’s number, accidentally opening other apps. Before you could dial anything, Nat’s contact lit up your screen again. Frustrated, you denied it, but almost instantly it blocked your screen again.

Maybe it was all a joke and now Nat was calling you to tell you she was okay, you thought. You answered the call with a very frustrated, “Hello?”

“You hang up on me again and I will gut you like a fish!” the voice angrily hissed with such power and fury that it made your back straighten suddenly. The loudness of their voice overpowered the voice modifier, but even as their voice changed, you still couldn’t put a finger on if you recognized it or not.

You just closed your mouth, breathing hard as your forehead grew sweaty and feverish.

“Unless you want me to slice pretty little Nat’s throat right open, I suggest you sit still and comply.”

Relief washed over you as you took the caller’s words meaning that Nat was still okay. In the silence on the line, you could hear the sound of a car in the background. This person was driving.

“What do you want?” you asked, and now that you knew for sure they weren’t near you, you ran to your bedroom and opened the drawer of your nightstand as quietly as you could.

“I want you to tell me your favorite scary movie,” they lolled with bemusement.

Focused on getting the gun out of your drawer and bullets from a pack of ammo to load it, you didn’t say anything.

“Oh, c’mon. It’s a simple question. Everyone has a favorite scary movie.”

You realized that you didn’t hear the sound of a driving car in the background anymore, and they were getting impatient, so you blurted the first thing you could think of. “Saw.”

“Saw? With all that blood and gore?!”

“It’s a classic,” you breathed as you loaded the gun and then held it up, carefully walking back into the living room.

“You Americans always follow the sheep,” they said with a despicable laugh, and you could hear noises in the background.

“So… you’re not American?” you asked, trying to get more information about who was calling you. While you wanted to hang up and call the police, you knew they would just keep calling you back quicker than you could dial 911, and you thought you might as well try to figure out more.

They dodged your question completely. “What do you like so much about Bluey?”

Gasping, you turned towards your TV and pointed your gun at the animated characters on the screen. It was sickening, looking at the cute, childish show while you were holding a gun and being held hostage on the phone by a psychopath. You were starting to think they must be just a prank caller. Maybe they picked some random person, who happened to be you, and followed you to Nat’s apartment. They saw you were drinking and used their own beer caps to make you think they were in Nat’s apartment. Maybe they had seen you through the window eating Lucky Charms and watching Bluey. It had to be a prank.

“It’s… it’s cute,” you faintly answered, going to the window slowly, with your gun pointed at the glass.

The voice laughed again, singeing your nerves as you peered out of the window into the darkness, looking around as far as you could to make sure no one was there.

“Do you wanna hear a joke?”

Seeing that no one was anywhere near the window, you moved back across your living room.

“Sure,” you whispered.

“Knock… Knock.”

Your eyes instantly shifted to the front door which was right ahead of you. Did you even lock it? Were they mentioning the door because they were right outside?

Quickly, you jumped to the door and locked the handle and slammed the chain shut at the top of the door. Holding your breath, you brought your eye up close to the peephole, expecting to see some strange man standing outside your door. To your relief, there was no one there.

“W-Who’s there?” you whispered, keeping your eye at the peephole in case they jumped into sight.

You were met with the sound of the call being disconnected. Confused, you looked down at your phone, but the moment you did, you heard the piercing sound of glass shattering. Out of fright, you dropped your gun, and it slid out of reach under the kitchen table.

Shrieking, you turned around and saw that the window you were just standing at had been kicked through. In came a dark figure slinking through the broken window, heavy boots crunching the shards of broken glass on the floor as they stepped into the apartment. You froze. Their other foot came through, the trail of their black cloak slipping over the windowsill as they stepped fully inside your home. They stood, straightening themselves like a demonic shadow standing across the room from you.

What should have scared you the most was the large, shiny knife they held in their hand. But what really scared you was when they lifted their face to show a white ghost mask with darkness for eyes and a horribly, sickeningly twisted open mouth in the shape of a scream. From across the room, you saw the blood splattered across the mask, staining its otherwise spotless white surface. The black glove on their hand squeaked as they tightened their fist around the knife, the ghost mask tilting slowly to the side as they stared you down from behind the mask.

Your phone slipped out of your hands, and the sound of it crashing to the floor propelled you out of your frozen state. Unable to breathe, you grunted in fear as you turned and started to unlock your door so you could run away.

Heavy booted footsteps came thudding towards you as your sweaty fingers struggled to unlock the door, and you turned your head to see that they were coming right at you, raising the knife in the air which spread their black cloak out like wings of a black bird coming down to snatch their prey. You shrieked and jumped to the side right as their arm came down, hearing their large knife stick right into the wood of the door.

Stumbling like an idiot, you sprinted to the only other exit in sight—the broken window they had just come through. You had a little time as they were pulling their knife out of the door, but right as you got to the window, they were running towards you again.

The fear and adrenaline pumping through your blood was making you dizzy. You let out another undignified squeal of terror as you moved away from the window and jumped between the couch and the TV.

The masked killer which you had read about in the article stopped when they saw you moving directions, now standing on the other side of the couch from you. You jumped to the right, but they moved with you.

“Stop!” you screamed, moving to the left only to have them move at the same time as you, still holding up the shiny knife that glinted under the light of your apartment.

You were cornered. There was nowhere to go now. You just stood there, your knees shaking, crouched, just waiting for them to make their move.

In a sudden swoop, they leaped over the couch and lunged at you. You screamed, jumping away just in time for their knife to slice across your upper arm in a non-fatal catch. The person fell right into the TV, the screen on which Bluey still played turning into glitches as they knocked it right off the wall in a loud crash.

Sprinting to your bedroom, you slammed the door shut and locked it, lunging towards the window by your bed. You could hear them fumbling to get up in the other room.

You had this window glued shut several years before out of fear for your own safety. You lived in a dangerous city. There was a fire escape right outside your window. It was only common sense to have glued it shut so that no one would sneak into the window right beside where you lay sleeping in bed.

The cut on your arm was already gushing, bright red lines of blood flooding down your arm and trickling into your palm, making your grip on the window slippery. The cut hurt, and as you tugged upwards on the window, it hurt even more, but you were desperate. People could lift cars out of their own adrenaline, surely you could snap the barrier of super glue standing between you and your last effort to escape.

The doorknob to your bedroom aggressively throttled. You could hear them shoving their shoulder against the locked door, and you started to sob as you tried harder to open your window, feeling like there was a timer right over your head counting down to your own death. It was a manic state you were in, pulling at the window as your arm covered itself in your own blood and the person started using their boot to heavily kick down the door.

“Come on!” you cried, your bloody hand slipping off the window.

With another powerful kick to the door, it came right off the hinges, slamming into the adjacent wall as the cloaked, masked person started storming towards you.

There was nothing left to do. You tugged at the window again, not even bothering to watch them come towards you. If you were going to be murdered, you didn’t want to see them as they did it.

Instead of a knife, you felt two gloved hands grab you by your sides and lift you, throwing you onto your bed. You lost your breath as your back hit the mattress with force, and you watched as the person climbed over you. You were at least going to give them a fight.

Raising your legs, you tried to kick them away, but they grabbed hold of your ankles as they climbed between your thighs, using a great deal of strength to keep your legs still. You even heard them grunt in frustration, and the sound of them struggling to hold you down gave you a boost of confidence to jump up and punch them right in the mask. The person took one hand away from your leg to cover the mouth part of the mask, and you used the opportunity to kick them in the chest. To your surprise, they hardly faltered. The mask faced you again, and something in you twisted. The mask did not change its expression, but you knew now they were very, very angry.

They snatched your free leg and climbed further over you, leaning down and snapping their knifeless hand over your throat, squeezing hard. You watched as they raised the knife above your head. You choked and grabbed at their hand, using your legs to try and kick at them again, but they were kneeling between them, so all you could do was dig your heels into their hips which didn’t have any effect.

Their hand squeezed your throat hard, the leather of their gloves digging into your skin. Losing air, you grabbed at their iron grip on your throat, staring up at the horrifying ghost face above you and their knife positioned to strike.

If they were going to kill you, your dying wish was to see who this serial killer was. They were breathing hard, loudly, distracted by the passion of their pending kill, so you flew your hands to their face and ripped the mask off.

A head of red hair came spilling out of the mask as you tugged it off, and you were met with wide green eyes. If you weren’t already being choked, you would have lost your breath at the sight of Wanda above you.

“W-Wanda?” you choked, your face going bright red as your vision blurred. Your eyes shifted between the mask in your hand and her face—it was her the whole time.

Her lips snarled, showing her canines at you. Her pupils were wide and frenzied, a pink flush in her face and a shine on her forehead whether from the efforts of trying to catch you or from excitement of finally catching you. Her lip was busted from when you had punched her over the mask, a little blood bubbling into her mouth and spreading across her teeth.

She looked at you for a moment, her face hardening, and she released her hand from your neck right before you were about to pass out. You desperately sucked in air, coughing and choking as your lungs filled with oxygen.

“So I did get you,” she said, her eyes moving to your bloody arm. Her tongue ran over her lower lip as she reached down and ran her gloved hand over the cut, smearing more blood across your skin. Fear twisted inside you as you watched her pink lips turn into a demonic smile.

“Wanda,” you whispered, breathing heavily as you saw her more clearly now. “What have you done?”

Was she the same ghostfaced serial killer who had been killing people in the city? Is this where she has been for these two months, breaking into people’s homes and stabbing them to death?

“It didn’t take long for Natasha to swoop in, did it?” she asked, and you realized then that when the voice modifier glitched over the phone, it had been her voice you heard. It’d been so long since you heard it that you hadn’t even recognized it, but you knew now.

“What?” you breathed, eyes flickering to the knife still in her hands.

“I’ve been gone for two months, and she already has you in her grip,” she spat, her lips curling in anger.

“Where did you go?” you blurted. “Why did you disappear?”

A smile stretched at her mouth. “I needed some time adjust my… perspective.” She enunciated the word slowly and sharply as she brought the knife to your bruised throat.

You gasped and flinched when you felt the cold metal lay flat across your skin and then turn so that the point pushed against your flesh, threatening to rip it.

“I used to be so selfless. I avoided you for Vision’s sake, so as to not hurt his precious feelings.” She started dragging the point of the knife down the column of your throat, her breath hissing between her teeth in excitement. “But Nat was still there after he died, so I left. I couldn’t be around if I couldn’t have you still.”

You watched her in terror as she spoke, her wide pupils focused on the way the knife moved across your skin, pressing in but not cutting.

“I sat back and watched. I watched you see her nearly every day. I watched you go to her house for those stupid little movie nights. I watched you sit at home and talk to her on the phone. God, how could you stand listening to her voice that much?”

“Nat was there for me when you weren’t,” you spat, forgetting that she had a knife to the most vulnerable part of your body.

Her eyes shot up at you again, seized with anger. She dragged the knife down to the collar of your shirt as her other hand grabbed a fistful of the fabric, and she started cutting it right off your body. You were reminded that Wanda was not herself now, that she had spent the last two months going insane. You were not safe.

You gasped as Wanda cut right down the fabric of your shirt so easily that it made you realize just how sharp her knife was. She pulled the fabric off your body and threw it down, leaving your upper body entirely naked. She looked down at your chest and seethed.

“You’ve always been so perfect,” she whispered, using her knife to draw a gentle line down your sternum. “I love watching you through the cameras but seeing you in real life is so… fucking… hot.”

She got a little ahead of herself as she dragged the knife down between your breasts, her hand jerking and cutting the skin on the inside of your breast. You shrieked and jumped, feeling tears well up in your eyes and spill down your hot face.

“C-Cameras?” you stuttered, your chest heaving as you breathed through the pain.

Wanda looked up ahead of you, and you tilted your head up to follow her eyes. How could you be so unobservant? In the top corner of your room was a little black circle with a lens, and as your eyes shifted, you saw that every single corner of the room had a little black lens.

“And in every other corner of your apartment, sweet cheeks, as well as Natasha’s.” She laughed at the terror on your face as you realized that you had been watched for weeks on end without even knowing.

Her eyes fell down to your chest where the cut on your breast was bleeding now, gravity tugging a drop of the blood down the center of your stomach. She let out a shuddering, primal growl as she leaned down and brought her lips to the cut.

Your body stiffened as you felt her lips, so close to a sensitive part of your body, kissing the deep cut that started to bleed more. She kissed it again and then ran her tongue over it, moaning at the taste of your blood. It made your face go hot and red as Wanda’s hair tickled your arms, her tongue moving upwards until it swirled around your nipple.

You squealed, thinking about asking her to stop but knowing it was no use, anyway. It scared you the way your body reacted to her, your nipple hardening in her warm mouth as she sucked on it.

She let it go with a pop, coming back up to reveal that her lips and chin were smeared with your blood. You glanced down to see that the breast she had paid attention to had smudges of blood all over it.

“Wanda, please,” you begged. “I’m sorry for whatever you think I did. I didn’t mean to hurt you or—”

A sudden slap to your face stopped you from where you spoke. Your head whipped to the side with the force of the slap, and through the stinging pain of the leathered force you also felt a sharp pain—she had been holding the knife. Warm blood trinkled down your sliced cheek as your flooding tears mixed with it.

“Don’t be so sad, detka,” she purred, taking your chin with hypocritical gentleness and turning your face to look back at her. “You can’t help it you’re a needy slut. I mean, just look at what’s happening. Here I am, cutting you up, and your little pussy is already so wet, isn’t it?”

She rolled her hips forward suddenly, and you felt a hard bulge under the cloak press against your core. The friction made your body shiver, and it was then you realized the wetness between your legs. Wanda grinned widely down at you, looking like a predator with her pearly smile covered in blood.

“Besides, it’s Natasha who stole you from me, and I don’t have to worry about her anymore.”

She looked down at your shorts and started to tug them off, but your eyes widened at her words. “Nat? What did you do to her?!”

“Shhhh…” she shushed you as she peeled your shorts and panties to the floor, leaving you completely naked under her. “Don’t worry, detka. I always clean my knife between kills.” She smirked at you and sat up, kneeling between your open legs.

Your mind raced at thoughts of Natasha—was she dead? Was it your fault? Was Wanda going to kill you, too?

You jumped when you felt the knife dragging across your inner thigh, slicing open your skin that bubbled with more blood. Wanda groaned at the sight, and you felt a mix of relief and fear when she set her knife down on the bed near her hand, far enough out of your reach.

“Just look at you, detka,” she purred as she smeared the blood around on your thigh, the pain vibrating through you. The terror of bloody craze on her face struck a chord inside you that made you both scared and thrilled. “All bloody for me—and so fucking wet.” She moved her eyes to your pussy, using her finger to spread your lips open. Your cheeks burned when you heard the wet sound of your folds moving.

Wanda reached down and grabbed at her crotch, grinning as she leaned back down to you and started kissing the bloody side of your face. “I’ve been waiting so long for you,” she whispered right into your ear, making your skin hot. When her tongue licked up the blood on the side your face, you cringed and whined. She moved her kisses to your neck, biting you with force as she started to grind her hips against you, getting excited.

Your core was throbbing hard as her bulge moved right against you, your knees bending up around her and threatening to spread wider for her. She was putting you under a bloodied haze, and your body was yielding to her. It made you cry harder, but your hand met her shoulder and begged her closer against you.

“Fuck,” she groaned, grinding harder against you. She was breathing heavier now, and when she leaned up to look at you again, there was even more blood on her face. “I want you to watch me fuck you.” She reached down between her legs, and chills ran up your spine as your body tensed in preparation. “I want you to look me in the eyes as I fuck your pussy the way it should be fucked—because it’s mine and you’re mine, and there’s just nothing you can do about that, can you, pretty little doll?”

Your hands grabbed desperately at her arms, words leaving you as your body grew hotter and hotter with desire. She shifted the fabric of her cloak, and pressed herself down against you, her hand still reaching down.

“My pretty little doll,” she breathed as she stared down at you. Suddenly, you felt the tip of something large pressing into you, and suddenly her strap was sliding all the way inside you. You groaned as your walls stretched around her girth, hands grabbing a fistful of her cloak as she buried her cock deep inside you. Wanda only laughed at the look of pain on your face, snapping her hips so that the entirety of her length pushed into you.

“Wanda,” you begged—begged for her to stop, for her to continue, for her to kiss you, for her to let you go—you didn’t know what for.

“Just as tight as I thought you’d be,” Wanda groaned, her eyes rolling back as she started to move her hips. You laid under her, legs spread, bloodied and cut up, letting her fuck you right there on her own bed.

“Too big,” you whined when she started moving faster, her strap bulging tightly inside your pussy. She only laughed again.

“Take my cock, detka. Or would you rather take my knife?” She grabbed the knife again and pushed it right against your throat, causing you to screech in fear. “I would like to leave as many cuts on your pretty body as I can, but I think you might not want me to cut right here, would you?”

You wanted to shake your head but quickly decided against it with how hard the knife was pressed to your throat, so you gave a pathetic, “No.”

“Good,” she growled, her free hand grabbing your hip to keep you still as she started fucking you harder. Grunts of pain left your lips and grunts of pleasure left hers as she drove herself inside you over and over again, thrusting her hips upwards to meet that sweet spot inside you just to drive you a little crazier and make your body betray your mind even more.

It was working. The pain faded and pleasure filled in all the cracks as she fucked you. She was groaning like a wild animal, and the sight of your blood on her face made you even more sickeningly turned on.

Keeping the knife on your throat, steadied with her elbow digging into your collarbone, she slipped her hand down between you and started rubbing your clit with her gloved fingers. The leather was painful at first, but as she massaged your clit just right, it started to propel your pleasure.

Disgusting sounds filled your ears. The squeaking of the bed under her forceful thrusts, the wet squelching of your pussy as she filled it with her cock, the sound of her grunting, and the vibrations of your own moans in your throat that you tried your hardest to keep silent.

Wanda took notice of this and pushed the knife harder on your neck. “Go ahead and let it out, baby. I’ve always wanted to hear you scream.”

It came tumbling out of you as you moaned for Wanda, and it encouraged her to fuck you even harder. The blood from the cut on your inner thigh was mixing with your own juices, causing a symphony of wetness and squelching from between your legs as she defiled you.

Pressure built in your lower tummy that bulged from her large strap filling you up. “That’s it. Cum on my cock, detka. Give yourself to me.”

Wanda was close to cumming herself, and it was evident in the way her hips thrust wildly and without rhythm, her eyes struggling to stay open.

“Wanda,” you moaned, grabbing at her as your orgasm started to crash over you. You couldn’t help but scream as your insides quivered around her, her strap still hitting all the right places inside you as you helplessly came.

Wanda grunted and opened her mouth, quickly reaching down and squeezing the base of the strap as she came. In the middle of your climax, you felt her faux cum spill inside you all at once, pumping you full until you could feel it in your lower tummy.

You were blinded by many things—from the shattering orgasm Wanda had just given you, from the blood loss you were enduring, from the fear and terror of the situation. By the time you came down from your high and could see again, Wanda was looking at your throat. In the heat of the moment, she had accidentally cut it just a little—not enough to really hurt you, but enough to make her go even crazier at the mere thought.

You were shaking and panting as Wanda smirked in victory and in malevolence. She looked over to the ghostface mask beside you and picked it up, pulling it on back over her head. She leaned down closer to you, the black eyes of the mask boring into your own as her head tilted.

“Let’s do another round, yeah? This time with the mask on.”

[pedroshotwifey]

Ahoy Hottie! 💜🥩💜 you know I gotta do it to ‘em…

#9 & chubby!Frankie x f!reader 🥩 or just a plain ol’ fat frankie… I’m not picky.

Beefro👌🥩💜

Hey, Beefro! I can't tell you how excited I was to see this request! Hopefully I did fat Frankie justice 😘

Good 'n' Deep

Pairing: Fat!Frankie x f!reader

Word Count: 2.6k (oops 😅)

Tags/warnings: finger fucking, oral, multiple orgasms, piv sex, slight overstimulation, soft dom frankie, mentions of weigh gain, dirty talk, smut, fluff, idiots in love, manhandling, frankie being a fucking unit

Summary: Fat Frankie can't be sated.

*****

You get home late. And feeling awful. 

It was supposed to be date night with your husband, but the boss kept you in for overtime. You know Frankie doesn’t mind, and reassured you about forty times that it’s not your fault, but you still hate to skip it. But as he says, you always go out on Fridays, and the two of you have plenty of Fridays to make up for this one. 

It’s not much, but you did pick up dinner at Frankie’s favorite fast food place on your way home. He doesn’t know yet, and you’re excited to at least surprise him with that. It’s a bit on the expensive side, but definitely worth it—both in the sense that it’s fucking delicious, but also that you’ll be able to see Frankie excited. 

“Babe,” you call into the dark house as you toe your shoes off. You smile when you hear Frankie’s quick footfall coming right for you. He wraps you in a hug as soon as he gets to you, engulfing you in his warmth and immediately relieving some of your stress. 

He leans down and kisses you gently, but only for a second because he’s suddenly very distracted by a certain smell. 

“Ohhh, baby,” he groans, hands already reaching for the paper bag in your hand. “You’re the fuckin’ best.” 

He plants a kiss on your head as you giggle. “You’re welcome, baby.”  

You both walk into the kitchen and sit down at the table, pulling your food out of the bags. Frankie looks excited, just as you’d hoped he would be. He looks so good right now, wearing his gray sweatpants, his standard oil cap (which you swear he has separation anxiety with), and an old, white tank. There’s a ketchup stain on the front from about a year ago that just never came out in the wash. You also notice that it’s gotten a good bit tighter since then—definitely one of those shirts that Frankie keeps trying to convince himself that fits. 

You won’t burst his bubble or anything, but he’ll need to try a bit harder, because there’s no way he’s fooling anyone. A sliver of his pudgy tummy peeks out from the bottom of the tank that used to cover him completely. The fabric hugs him tightly, probably just on the side of not being painful even though it’s being stretched to its limit. It used to hang loosely on him, but he’s gained a good bit of weight since the two of you have been together. You smile to yourself at that, glad to see him looking so happy and taken care of. 

He groans as he takes the first bite of his burger. 

“Fuck, thank you again, baby,” he says through a mouthful of food. You nod at him, mouth full as well. 

The two of you talk about your days as you devour your food, you finishing quicker than Frankie but staying at the table while he finishes his other burger and large fry. He tells you that his day went pretty good. All the guys showed up at work and there wasn’t an issue to keep them on the job for longer than necessary. 

You wait until he finishes his last fry before you start to pick up the trash. You take his cap off of his head as you walk by him so you can brush his hair back and place a gentle kiss on top of his head. He smiles warmly at you when you put his cap back on and move to throw the trash away. You glance at the clock, biting your lip as you decide there’s probably a bit of time to do something before you go to sleep. 

“You want to watch a movie, Frank?” 

He hms thoughtfully as you walk back toward him. “Maybe, " he says. 

You move to pass where he’s still sitting at the table, but you’re quickly stopped and pulled into his lap, both of your legs draped over his thighs. You yelp and wrap your arms around his neck for stability. 

“Think I’d rather have a snack though,” he says through a grin as he rubs the side of his face against yours. He then rotates your body so that you’re leaning against his back.  

“Frankie, honey,” you giggle despite catching his meaning. “You just ate!” 

You turn and poke his full stomach to prove your point, but he only grunts and holds you tighter.

“I’m feeling greedy,” he rasps into your ear as he grinds his hardening length into your ass. “Need my dessert.” 

You shiver, lust staring to cloud your head. Leave it to this man to want to fuck you after a huge meal. He doesn’t wait for you to respond as he lifts your shirt up and you raise your arms for him to tug it off. Your bra is next, discarded on the floor next to you within seconds. 

You give in—which isn’t very hard—and let yourself relax into him. You moan and he leans down to lick up the side of your neck, his beefy hand traveling even lower to worm itself beneath the band of your panties. He finds your clit quickly and immediately starts to rub circles just the way you like. Your hips buck a bit as you crane your neck to devour his plush lips with yours. 

“Mm-Frankie,” you whimper against him as your thighs begin to tremble. You feel him smirk against you in return but say nothing. All you can focus on is the building of your orgasm, that addicting feeling tugging deep inside of you with a promise for more. 

He lets his fingers slip down to your hole and gather the slick there before bringing it back up to create a smooth movement atop your bud, his hand moving faster and faster until the coil snaps and you’re crying out and convulsing on top of him. His other hand wraps around you to stop your thighs from closing, forcing you to prolong your pleasure as he keeps up his slowing movements.

You’re panting when you come down to your high, practically drooling with the back of your head planted on Frankie’s shoulder. You’re not sure when that happened, you leaning back and clutching his forearms so tightly that there’ll be nail marks when you let him go. 

He chuckles darkly as you release him from your clawing grip, trying to calm your breathing. You’re only slightly aware of him helping you off of his lap to stand. He takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom. You must only be in there for a half-second before he’s pushing you down on your back and dragging you until your ass is basically hanging off the edge of the bed. 

“Frankie!” You screech his name at all the movement, the way he’s man-handling you. He only smiles cheekily through the grunt he lets out as he gets down on his knees in front of your cunt to kiss the inside of your thigh. 

“Sorry, hermosa,” he coos. Though he’s very obviously not that sorry because he goes right to practically ripping your pants and underwear down your legs. You don’t even bother yelping or reprimanding him this time. You know that he’s determined now, and Frankie Morales doesn’t relent until he gets what he wants.

He’s back at your cunt—in your cunt—before you can blink. You scream as he burrows the entire lower half of his face into your soaked folds and grasps your legs over his shoulders. Your hands fly to his hair, knocking his cap off in the process of getting to his thick, soft curls between your fingers. He moans sharply as you tug, unintentionally forcing him closer to you. You don’t worry too much, you know he loves it. He once told you that he would die a happy man if you ever got tired of him and chose to suffocate him in your sweet pussy. 

He licks and sucks at a furious pace, completely skipping a buildup and going right to the action. It’s unbelievable to you how quickly he manages to make you come sometimes. You yell his name as he eats you out like he’s mad at you. It’s so fucking good, this blinding pleasure making your entire body shake and your blood run firey hot. And you know he loves it just as much as you do.

You start to fall limp again, sweat covering your entire body as he keeps drinking you up. You hiss, your body bucking as you pull on his hair again to try to get him off of you. You’re about to tell him you need a break, but then he suddenly has a finger gliding into your hole, and then two, and you don’t get the chance as your second orgasm melds into your third. He finger-fucks you at an inhuman pace, almost hurting your poor pussy with how hard he shoves them into you as he sucks harshly on your clit. The sounds are obscene even through the blood you hear pumping in your ears. 

He starts to slow after you ride out your third high, though you’re not sure if it’s because he’s taking pity on you or if he genuinely just can’t handle not being inside you for another second. You assume it’s the latter as you listen to the sound of his clothes being tugged off, one arm thrown over your eyes as you try to collect yourself. 

“God, you look fucking gorgeous, baby,” Frankie groans as he admires your limp, sweat-slicked body. 

You lift your arm to find him between your messy thighs again, this time standing over you. Despite the three fucking orgasms he just gifted you, you feel your cunt clench at the sight of him standing so imposingly in front of you. He’s so fucking big and intimidating. He’s stripped all the way, as naked as you now, letting you see every inch of his gorgeous damn body. 

He watches you with a gaze that tells you he’s in the mood to pound you through the damn mattress. You find yourself excited, despite already being sore, as he takes a step forward and lines up his blunt tip with your slippery hole. You whimper and grip the sheets as he starts to make shallow thrusts to push in, stretching you despite your excessive preparation and the amount of times he’s had you before. 

He moans right along with you, gripping your hips and pulling you onto him. Your eyes roll back and your mouth drops open once he’s fully seated and breathing heavily above you. 

“Fucking christ, baby. You’re so fucking tight,” he accentuates the last word by pulling out slightly and thrusting hard back into you, making your back arch when he slams into that spot deep inside of you. 

He starts at a slow but forceful pace, making you see stars every time he pushes himself in. You watch him with hooded eyes, admiring how gorgeous he looks when his own eyes close and his lips part. His pelvis comes flush with your ass each time and he uses the opportunity to grind into you, rubbing your walls in a way that makes you want to cry. Actually, you think you are. It’s only now that you feel tears start to leak down your ruddy cheeks.

Frankie must have opened his eyes at some point while you were lost in your head, because he’s suddenly letting out a breathy laugh and using one hand to thumb away the tears. Your toes curl at the gentle touch compared with the brutal treatment of your cunt.

“I know, sweetheart,” he coos. “I know it’s a lot.” 

God, he feels so good leaning over you. You want him closer—need him closer. 

“F-Frankie,” you manage to get out. “N-Need you closer.” 

He smirks at you and thrusts a bit faster, pushing you up the bed and leaning over you to kiss you deeply. One hand stays on your hip as the other cradles your face, keeping you where he wants as he devours your lips in a messy kiss. You wrap your arms and legs around his broad body, smiling a bit when they don’t wrap around him all the way. You love when he overwhelms you like this, completely trapping you under him as he pummels into you. He’s barely even pulling out now, just slapping his hips to yours as fast as he can as he whines and moans into your mouth. The grip he has on your hip is crushing, but it feels good because it’s him. 

The coil is tightening once again within you, making everything go hazy as you focus solely on how he edges you closer and closer with every slam of his cockhead against your cervix. 

He’s getting frantic, too. You can tell by the way he loses control of the kiss and his thrusts get even shorter. 

“F-Frankie,” you mumble into his lips. “M-More.” 

He picks up the pace yet again, making you scream when he hits a spot that you didn’t even know existed. You jolt against him, startled but the burst of pleasure that sparks through you. 

“M-More,” you beg him again, panting so hard you think you might pass out. You need more. More of him inside you, on top of you. You need everything to be filled with him until there’s no room for anything else. 

“‘M so close, baby,” he whines to you. 

“Frankie, please!” 

He growls against you and tugs back, slipping out of you with a lewd squelch. You don’t have time to cry out from the loss though, because he’s back in an instant to grab you and flip you over on your stomach. Then he’s over you again, slamming back into you with a single thrust. You’re forced to stay flat, your hands scrambling for purchase in front of you until he drapes himself completely over you, threading your fingers through his so he can use them as leverage to fuck deep into you. 

“Better?” He grunts out, almost angrily. He’s so heavy above you, using all of the force he has to nail you into the bed in furious ruts, the entire thing moving with each pound into you. You can’t respond though, finding your voice trapped in your throat as you convulse around him. You’ve never come this hard in your life, even with him. It’s what you wished for—to be so overwhelmed that everything else is purely pushed from you. It’s all static right now, your brain, your body. You think you may scream his name, but it might have been a bunch of gibberish.

“This what you need?” he asks as he fucks furiously down into you. To be fucked good—hmng—good an’ deep?” 

You use what’s left of your fried brain to nod beneath him, practically drooling onto the bed sheets. 

“F’kn deep,” you slur, half-delirious. 

You let him continue to pound into you until grunts loudly beside your ear and you feel his cum spurting into you. It makes you moan again, the way he keeps fucking it deeper and deeper into you. You quiver and he groans as he starts to come down himself, joining you once again in the real world. Your ears are still ringing and your entire body feels like you got tossed off of a mountain and possibly into a bit of lava, but you find yourself laughing once Frankie untagles your fingers and rolls to the side, taking you with him. 

He starts to laugh with you, neither of you saying a word but knowing exactly what the other is thinking. Which is something along the lines of ‘holy shit’. Despite your sweaty bodies, you sink back into him and let him hold you close, both of you stuck in giggling fits and sharing little kisses until you fall asleep a minute later.

*****

Want to read more requests or submit your own? Check this out!

[judeswhore]

home is where the heart is; jude bellingham

summary: in which you and jude spend the first night in your new flat on a blow up mattress with pizza and horror films

requested: yes

notes: first jude fic in forever this is so real of me

"y'know, we probably should've bought proper furniture before we moved in." jude's voice dragged your attention from where you were laying the duvet down over the blow up mattress, pillows already settled at one end. he was hovering in the kitchen of the open plan flat, pouring coke into two plastic cups, your ordered box of pizza set beside him on the counter. "and like, actual cutlery and shit."

"i don't know, i think this set up is pretty cozy." you shrugged, sent him a half smile when he met your gaze and padded across the floor to grab the pizza box. jude watched you with his own adoring smile, one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle just slightly and sent a flood of warmth through your chest. he tilted his head almost curiously, screwed the cap back on the coke and made to follow you back towards the blow up mattress.

buying a flat with jude was something the two of you had talked about for a while now. what had started off as passing comments about how nice it would be to have your own space, to not be interrupted by people constantly, had turned into full blown planning. you'd looked for places together in the early hours of the morning, cuddled up beneath his sheets, pointing out which ones looked the nicest and after a few months of deliberating you finally found the perfect flat. you were still young and more than a little eager and so as soon as you'd been handed the keys you'd made the decision to move in, lack of furniture be damned.

the flat was already decorated, plain and simple but you had no issues with doing it up to your own taste but unfortunately for you it didn't come fully kitted out which meant you probably should have spent the next week or so at jude's old house until you bought everything you needed. but no, this place was yours and bed or not, you wanted to be in it. your afternoon had been spent buying an air mattress and a few paper plates and cups, plastic knives and forks, dragging bags of clothes and necessities from your car up to the flat. it was bare and a little cold but it was yours, and ridiculous as it was, you didn't care how long it took to furnish it as long as you did it together.

"so you're telling me you'd be happy to spend the rest of your life sleeping on an air bed with a laptop for a tv and nothing else?" jude set the two cups down on the floor, just slightly away from the mattress to avoid knocking them over and reached for the pizza box. you let him take it, flopped yourself down on one side of the bed as he lowered himself next to you, pizza box dropping into the centre of the duvet.

"it's not so bad." you sent him a teasing look. "you're here." he hummed softly, lips tilting into a matching grin and let his hand reach for your face, fingers tilting your chin upwards. his lips met yours, soft and light, a gentle brush that sent sparks through all of your nerves and made your head spin.

"you're a flirt." pressing one last, fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth he pulled back, turned his attention to your opened laptop, netflix blinking from the screen. "what we watching? and if you say she's the man again i'm leaving and sleeping in the car."

"i don't know why you pretend to hate it so much, i've caught you grinning at the kissing booth scene." you reached for the laptop and set it on your knee, finger running along the mouse pad as you began to scroll through endless movies and shows. jude shuffled closer to you, pressed his body against yours, his hand propping himself up just behind you, his chin hooking over your shoulder.

"you're a liar."

"so are you. you think i can't see the stuff you watch when you're away. clueless? really?" jude huffed, pushed his face into your neck to hide his smile because you'd totally caught him out. his lips were soft over your skin when he spoke.

"in my defence, i'm a huge paul rudd fan." you only hummed, skin heating up when he turned to pressing kisses over your shoulder, fingers tugging the sleeve of your (his) shirt to give him more space to work with. his kisses were soft and adoring, quiet reminders that he loved you and they caused a riot of flutters in your tummy. he was still watching over your shoulder, gaze trailing over movie options.

he pointed at the screen suddenly. "why don't we watch a horror?"

"are you serious?"

"what? it's nearly halloween and they're better than your sappy romance ones."

"it's so not nearly halloween."

"hush, yes it is. gimme it here, i wanna choose." rolling your eyes you let him take the laptop, hid your smile when he kissed your cheek before shifting away slightly. you reached for the pizza box, pulled a slice free and brought it up to take a bite, holding it in front of jude’s lips only a second later. his eyes didn’t leave the screen as he bit into it but he mumbled a garbled “thanks”, head nodding at the screen.

“what about the purge?”

“if we’re gonna watch a horror you have to at least make it scary.”

“oh that’s how you want it? fine.” he finally glanced at you, or rather the pizza, and his eyebrows bent together. “still think we should have got pineapple.” you glared at him, pulled your slice back when he made to take another bite.

“i don’t like pineapple on pizza.”

“you’ve never even tried it.”

“so? i still know i don’t like it.”

“ridiculous.” he wrapped his fingers light around your wrist to tug your hand towards his face and took an unnecessarily large bite from the pizza, his eyes teasing when you pushed at his arm. “demons or murder?” you only shrugged, settling your head against his shoulder to see the screen a little better, curious what your options were.

“both.” his hum tickled the top of your head and for the next few minutes you were silent, jude searching for a good film while you shared your slices of pizza. your head and heart felt fuzzy when he took the last part of the crust into his hand and kissed the pads of your fingers and you didn’t have to look at him to know he was grinning. three slices in, he had settled on a film.

“you seen sinister?”

“no, i don’t think so.” you peered at the screen, pushing the pizza box on to the floor as you shrugged your shoulders. “looks good.”

“you won’t cry if it’s too scary, will you?”

“shut up, bellingham.” the kitchen light was still on, a little too bright considering there was a soft glow from the bathroom light and you flashed jude a sickly sweet smile. “can you turn that off?”

“can’t do it yourself?” despite his words he was already lifting off the mattress, sock clad feed sliding over the floor and it took all your willpower to keep your eyes on his face and not his bare chest. his joggers were low on his hips and one glance would have you stumbling over your words.

“don’t wanna.”

“scared the bogeyman’s gonna get you from in the cupboards?”

“have i ever told you how annoying you are?”

“he might grab your ankle when you go to the toilet.” he waggled his eyebrows, flicked off the light and made his way back over. you could only glare at him, lips turned into a slight pout because you knew he was trying to scare you and you also knew there would be no way you’d go to the bathroom on your own after watching the film. “maybe he’ll sneak out from under the sink.”

“jude.” your tone was whiney and it only made him laugh, his body bouncing lightly beside yours when he got back to the bed. you’d already pulled the duvet over yourself and settled back on one of the pillows and jude shuffled himself beside you, propped himself up on his elbow and tickled his other hand over your side.

“least nothing can hide under the bed.”

“i hate you.”

“awe baby, c’mon, y’know i’ll save you.” still grinning, he leant down and bumped his nose over yours, kissed the tip of it. “you’re too pretty to die.” your eye roll and shove to his chest brought out an unexpected laugh from him, one that sounded more like a snort and he rubbed his nose against your cheek, splattered kisses over your face. “m’sorry, if you give me a kiss i’ll shut up.”

“you don’t know how to do that.” jude looked at you through his lashes, rubbed a soothing thumb over your ribs, a back and forth motion that made goosebumps scatter over your skin. he stared at you until you huffed a soft laugh, one that tickled his cheek and then your arms were hooking around his neck, one hand flat against his head to pull him down, lips pressing warm over his. he made a soft noise of happiness, a content hum and tilted into you, lowered his elbow so he could brush his thumb over your cheek, trace the curve of your jaw.

you weren’t sure how long you laid there, jude’s fingers soft over your skin, his lips and tongue and teeth teasing and loving all at once but you were breathless and a little lightheaded when you finally managed to pull away from each other. your lips tingled and he brushed his thumb over the bottom one, swiped away the remnants of his kisses.

“the movie.”

“trying to distract me so you don’t have to watch it?”

“y’know, i’m kinda getting the feeling you don’t wanna watch it.”

“i suggested it.”

“can always un-suggest it. we haven’t watched bridget jones’ baby in forever.” jude only rolled his eyes and pushed back up on his elbow, nudged your side lightly.

“shut up and turn around.” your giggle had him fighting a smile as you did as he said, pulling the laptop closer and rolling on to your side. he was quick in settling behind you, chest flush against your back, his foot finding it’s way between yours, hands tugging the duvet up to your shoulders. he was warm and firm, comforting and familiar and you couldn’t stop yourself from nestling back into him, pulling his arm around your body.

“promise you’re not gonna chicken out on me.” you could feel the movement of his chin against the top of your head when he spoke, his breath fanning over your hair. instead of answering you pressed play, threaded your fingers through his and held his hand against your chest. he was quiet for a few minutes, scenes rolling over the screen, scenes that had both of your grimacing, jude’s nose pushing into the back of your head. a huff suddenly tore from him, made you jolt in his hold and then his hand left yours and reached for the laptop, fingers tapping over it.

“okay, no, i’m un-suggesting, this is awful. paul rudd or channing tatum?”

[chrollohearttags]

Omg omg HC to spare? Pls Toji lovingly and slowly seduces you and fucks you so intimately on the couch while you’re riding him to “come and talk to me” by Jodeci. The relationship started off as a one night stand between acquaintances,  and now y’all fuck so frequently and so intimately. Locked eyes and pet names and praises that will make one would watched think y’all were DEEPLY in love 😩😩😩 pls you’re my favorite writer and I know I MF KNOW you’ll eat this shit up and make it art

honeyyyyy, I ain’t even no *huge* Toji girl (bc he still fine as hell, don’t get me wrong!) like that but what??? oh this is so sexy 😫 like this might be my awakening for this man!! May have to spin the block and do a full fic of this one day but yeah..

cw: riding, pet names (sweetness, doll, love) hand holding, praise kink

“Mmm..Toji, fuck!..right there, baby. That’s my spot.”

“I know, doll..oh god, you’re gripping me so fucking tight..”

the exchange between (y/n) and your long time lover entering yet another hour as the two of you engaged in various rounds of wonderful sex; inviting him over for yet another night cap that involved a little bit of white wine, wooing you with his sweet words, a massage and some sensual R&B music. Jodeci hummed through the speakers of the flatscreen mounted to the wall. Now here you were being impaled and bounced relentlessly atop Toji Fushiguro’s thick cock. That plump ass colliding and ricocheting off of his pelvis while your hands intertwined and balanced you in his firm grasp. That chiseled body and perfect physique lying underneath you; a giant smile plastered on his face from the smacking of your sweat slicked skin; the contrast of your tones flickering underneath the pale candlelight..it was the scene reminiscent of a romance movie. One that had been reoccurring for many months on end with it only improving every time. Learning and exploring one another’s bodies, falling deeper in love each time you make it. Tonight in particular was rather special, as Toji was just returning home from a business trip and the first person he came to visit upon touching back down was none other than you. Bearing flowers and gifts, he arrived at your doorstep; dressed in his signature black button down that exposed the chest, small silver necklace and black pants..his cologne wafting through your nostrils as well. All of which you had worked him out of by now, twirling the thin silver chain around your fingertip as you rode him to kingdom come. Obsessing over every square inch and crevice of each other’s flesh throughout the course of the night. “Toji, baby.. ‘m, so close..I’m gonna come again!” “Just keep going, sweetheart. Oh shit, you’re fucking me so good..” continuing to clutch hands as he began bucking his upward into you. That deep voice ringing out in your ear…shooting off expletives and singing your praises simultaneously. “You take me so good, sweetheart. Wrapping around my dick like this.” “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Oh God, you’re incredible.” Telling you all the sweet nothings to make you happy and even wetter than before. Filling you with every inch of him. The mixture of your messy climaxes seeping down your thighs and onto the cushions of the couch. But none of that mattered; only the time you shared with one another and having moments like this.

anyone from the outside looking in, they would have sworn that you and Mr. Fushiguro were a happily married couple yet it couldn’t be the furthest thing from..in fact, you were nothing more than acquaintances months ago. Practically perfect strangers if you were being honest. But that all but changed when a bad thunderstorm trapped you at his place one night. The two of you had just finished up a project for work and as you were heading it out, it began raining and lightning. Naturally, in good faith, he couldn’t allow you to leave in those conditions. So instead, he gave you a warm place to lie your head for the night and his face to sit on..making you come more times than you had in a lifetime. He was an excellent lover and always made sure to talk you through your orgasms..even taking care of you long after the sex was finished. If your busy schedules had permitted it, you’d make this little affair something more permanent. But for now, you’d enjoy things for what they were and let him have his way. Moving his grasp from your fingers to that waist, holding you still as he thrusted up into you. Muffled grunts escaping his throat..tossing his head back from the pings of pleasure exerting through that lower half. Twitching…throbbing while pounding your pussy. Molding you to his shape to ensure you’d want no one else but him inside of it when he finished..and that there was no other woman for him except (y/n) . Which he’d spend every waking second until the sunrise proving.

“Fuck..I swear I’ll always come back to you, baby. Always gonna be yours.”

[show-us-kaidenshenandoah]

i was watching the movie again and went "...wait a second" at the designs of The Gammas (or Gamma Mu Mu). i looked up trivia and couldn't find anything to confirm (or deny, i guess) my thoughts, so i guess?? this is a theory? (someone with a DVD/Bluray version, please check the Special Features for me to see if anyone mentions this. i have no idea) i'm surprised i haven't seen this parallel thrown around more but yeah, i think im onto something if this is a new thought in the Goofy Movies fanbase lol

sorry for the low quality of the image, ill type the transcript up in the post to make up for how blurry my text is. there just isn't a lot of pictures of these guys, period, much less that i could find of this specific scene so i could make my point

but yeah, my theory is The Gammas are all based off the classic villains in the Mickey-Donald-Goofy multiverse (plus Bigfoot, but i know many people noticed the redhead member of the Gammas is just "a shaved down version of Bigfoot" from the first "A Goofy Movie" lol)

(also, im a novice at learning about this extended Mickey-Donald-Goofy multiverse, im still new to the Carl Banks comics and havent seen all the media. so forgive me if im wrong at any point and please kindly correct me ♡)

so there's:

named: Bradley Uppercrust III — no idea if he is based off of anyone

named: Tank — based off of: Pete / Peg Leg Pete (but make him unrelated to PJ, basically) (hence, why he looks the least like his source, if im correct. he has a shirtless scene where he's revealed to have a farmer's tan, that i think you could argue is a very subtle nod that would have been slightly closer to a Pete-like coloration. but yeah, if im right, they had to make Tank's pallette lighter ao he wouldn't be mistaken as a relative of PJ's)

unnamed bearded member — based off of: the main Beagle Boys trio (Babyface) (Bigtime) (if you don't know the lore: there's a lot of Beagle Boys as the gag is they're a BIG family, but the main trio in the original "Ducktales" show is the first set of parentheses. the second set of parentheses is their names in the classic Ducktales comics. both the original "Ducktales" show and the reboot "Ducktales" show features both sets of the trio/s though. though the Carl Barks version of the comics preferred the route of "they go by their prison-numbers rather than their names". also, inbetween the two "Ducktales" TV shows, a lot of Disney media just merged the two trios into one kind-of-amorphous trio, as far as i can tell, like with "Mickey, Donald, and Goofy: the Three Muskateers". but still, they're part of a HUGE family who tend to be clones of said main trio. but i digress. they're a confusing family lmao rip)

unnamed member wearing sunglasses — based off of: the main Beagle Boys trio (Bankjob) (Bouncer) (i like to think his sunglasses (and i guess also the unnamed bearded member's glasses, but mainly these sunglasses) as a homage to the Beagle Boys' black masks lol)

named: Slouch — based off of: the main Beagle Boys trio (Bugle) (Burger) (also: im entirely banking off differentiating Bugle/Burger to Slouch and Bankjob/Bouncer to sunglasses-guy on how Bugle is commonly reffered to as "a hipster" and i personally associate fedoras with a similar type of crowd. i could have those mixed up tho, idk, neither of these guys even have any lines lol but i do like the idea that maybe the fedora is flipped like that as a reference to the Beagle Boys' billed caps? idk, that might be a stretch) (i would also like to mention i hc these guys are The Beagle Brats now in college-age, who are an unnamed trio that goes by "1, 2, and 3" in the comics but, from what i can tell, that the Beagle Brats in general (not 1, 2, and 3 specifically) were first seen(?) in the "Ducktales" original show (who also have a v small cameo in the reboot) that were meant to parallel the triplets Huey and Dewey and Louie; these specific ones im talking about the nephews of the general-amorphous-main-trio of Beagle Boys, but it is possible to call any Beagle Boy who is young a Beagle Brat. but, yeah, i have no basis for why i think Slouch and the other two are specifically the Beagle Brats 1, 2, and 3; that's entirely headcanon)

unnamed member that's a redhead — based off of: Bigfoot in "A Goofy Movie" (again, i know a lot of people caught this one lmao)

unnamed member that has black hair — based off of: Mortimer Mouse (who was once also known aa Montmorency Rodent/Rodawn, but they've been retconned into being the same character by now, but that'a a tangent.) (if you don't know the lore: Mortimer is a bit complicated to describe? but the tldr is that he's basically Mickey's love-rival for Minnie. to go more in depth though, uh, he's more wealthy, usually, and claims to be "in love" with Minnie Mouse but is also a jerk and she generally does not have any interest in him (well, unless the plot the writer wants includes a love-triangle). Pete is usually considered a more recognizable villain, so Mortimer rarely shows up, esp since Pete can be easily be written as also harboring feelings for Minnie. so sometimes shows re-write Mortimer from this personality so he is more distinct, sometimes as a toxic friend of Mickey's or overall bad influence but well-intentioned; so the character has some flexibility. but i know him best, as do many others, via his "House of Mouse" recurring role where he'd show up just to try to break Mickey and Minnie up or otherwise flirt with any female guests. i think he works well in competition wirh Pete, who has more of a Goliath-and-David relationship with Mickey when Mickey and Pete are antagonistic, as Mortimer is an antagonist that is just as clever and capable as Mickey (if not more so, since he is clever, competent, and generally wealthy enough to have more resources than Mickey) but does not have Mickey's sincerity or good intentions. though i dont mind how kid shows re-write him either, i think toxic friends and bad influences are good lessons for children to learn. i like Mortimer being a frenemy who has good intent but bad follow-through lol but anyway, thank you for allowing me this debatably-overexplanation of Mortimer since he's my favorite and also, uh, the only one here where #1 he isnt in the Goofy Movie series and ergo may not be known to others, #2 has a consistent personality beyond "bad guy in story" i can talk about unlike the Beagle Boys trio/s and their huge extended family of might-as-well-be-clones, and #3, again, he's my favorite if you couldnt tell lol) (also, i do think you could argue this unnamed character's quiff is a nod to Mortimer's mouse-ears tho, since there's a curve and all. and then the idea he has some stubble as a possible ref to Mortimer's whiskers is hilarious to me if my theory has water and he was intentionally designed after Mortimer lmao)

anyway, i apologize again if this idea has been discussed before. i really did try to google if anyone was spreading the same idea that The Gammas are just a fun College AU-Variant of these guys already

+ bonus, since i mentioned them, The Beagle Brats:

please let me know if you think the idea has merit, and especially let me know if Bradley is a reference to anyone (tho i can also fully buy Bradley being original to this movie!) thanks so much for reading ♡

ps. i am dyslexic so do forgive me for any misspellings. i am editing this unseriously from my phone ✌️