#so fucking weird and very disturbing

[sulevinen]

weirdest fucking dream last night

[pulchrasilva]

Sigh I need to rant about certain people and how there is a background noise of discomfort with every interaction after particular incidents that made me go "bitch you live like this???" but all my typical vent spaces are ones where they might see it and the only ones that they wouldn't see it in are like discord channels that are not for this topic of vent or friends who would be uncomfortable with the topic etc like,,, what do I even do? Stew in it?

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Getting irrationality angry over new SpongeBob again

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

Got so excited about what was in vault 47 I forgot I was listening to a radio play about fallout 4

[captaincolorblob]

finally finished reading the reigen spinoff-manga. i will never emotionally recover from this

[strawberry-jackalope]

today I’m getting through the day by acknowledging if I haven’t had a breakdown by 5, I get to go hoooooooommmmmeeeeeeeeeee

[ladsofsorrow24]

some of the responses i've seen people had about the new makoto shinkai's film is kinda hilarious to me

[dinos-are-cool-posts]

THAT'S ACTUALLY PETE DAVIDSON I THOUGHT THEY JUST GOT A REALLY GOOD VOICE ACTOR AND HAD HIM MIND I THOUGHT THERE WAS NO WAY THEY COULD AFFORD HIM BUT NO IT'S HIM

[headspace-hotel]

I forget why, but I was on the Wikipedia page for polycystic ovarian syndrome, and I started researching hirsutism in women, and I learned the following things in this order:

there's a diagnostic criteria used to evaluate how hairy a woman is

This is important because being too hairy is a diagnostic criteria of most disorders that cause hyperandrogenism

Disorders that cause hyperandrogenism can be diagnosed by...measuring how hairy you are (this is the main and most important diagnostic criterion for PCOS)

Disorders that cause hyperandrogenism are important because they are correlated with obesity, infertility, and...being too hairy?

I think to myself, wait, what is a normal range for testosterone in women? I find this article...which set reference ranges for "normal" testosterone levels in women...EXCLUDING WOMEN WITH PCOS?

Quote: "Polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) is another notable condition in genetic (XX) females, which is characterized by excessive ovarian production of androgens. This condition is included for comparison with DSD, as the affected females with PCOS are genetic and phenotypic females. The elevated levels of testosterone in these females can lead to hyperandrogenism, a clinical disorder characterized variably by hirsutism, acne, male-pattern balding, metabolic disturbances, impaired ovulation and infertility. PCOS is a common condition, affecting 7%-10% of premenopausal women."

So: the study claims to demonstrate a clear distinction between the normal range of hormone levels in "Healthy" men and "healthy" women...with "healthy" being defined in the study as...having hormones within the "normal" range.......................

So I researched what the clinically established "normal" range for testosterone in women is

THERE ISN'T ONE????

Quote from the above article: "Several different approaches have been used to define endocrine disorders. The statistical approach establishes the lower and the upper limits of hormone concentrations solely on the basis of the statistical distribution of hormone levels in a healthy reference population. As an illustration, hypo- and hypercalcemia have been defined on the basis of the statistical distribution of serum calcium concentrations. Using this approach, androgen deficiency could be defined as the occurrence of serum testosterone levels that are below the 97.5th percentile of testosterone levels in healthy population of young men. A second approach is to use a threshold hormone concentration below or above which there is high risk of developing adverse health outcomes. This approach has been used to define osteoporosis and hypercholesterolemia. However, we do not know with certainty the thresholds of testosterone levels which are associated with adverse health outcomes."

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

It's batshit crazy to make a diagnostic criteria for medical disorders by placing arbitrary cutoffs within 2-5% of either end of a statistical distribution. What the actual fuck?

"The results came back, you have Statistical Outlier Disease." "What treatments are available?" "Well, first, we recommend dietary change. You should probably stop eating so many spiders."

Another article which attempted to do this

Quote: "Subjects with signs of hirsutism or with a personal history of diabetes or hypertension, or a family history of polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) were excluded."

"We're going to figure out the typical range of testosterone levels that occur in women! First, we're going to exclude all the women that are too hairy from the study. I am very good at science."

Anyway I got off topic but there are apparently race-specific diagnostic tools for "hirsutism." That's kinda weird on its own but when I looked more into this in relation to race I found this article that straight-up uses the term "mongoloid"

[beepmon]

it’s not that i don’t think guys can be cutesy but there’s something that feels so manufactured about the why male idols are presented that makes it feel funny to me? like i’m not laughing bc i think guys can’t be cute or that male cuteness is funny or anything like that it just feels so performative that i can’t take it seriously? and obsvly i’m not talking about real idols i’m talking about fictional ones like en****st*rs or id**olish7 these characters i can’t take seriously bc they don’t feel authentic to me i can’t really accept them

[fingertipsmp3]

Like on the one hand I do want to read something that’s absolutely terrifying and breaks me down to my bare essentials, but on the other hand I’m a weenie

[ew-selfish-art]

DCxDP AU: Danny and Damian are actually twins but were never raised together- Talia would divide her time between bases, spending time with them separately (but spending more time with Damian). Jason technically only met Danny in his time with the LoA.

It still a very tenuous truce that Jason has with his family when he finally joins them for breakfast after a late night of busting a drug ring. And sue him, he's never cared to look at the little one that closely when he's not pointing a knife in his direction. But then the little Bat Brat turned his face towards the ray of light streaming into the family room of the Manor and Jason caught a closer look to the… green color. Huh.

“Hey demon, when you died did you come back with those green eyes?” Jason calls out, and perhaps it’s a little antagonistic but something deeply unsettles the crime lord about this.

“Tt. I’ve always had green eyes Todd. Your observation skills remain dulled-“ Damian begins to berate him but Jason’s scowl deepens and he interrupts.

“No, they were definitely Bruce’s color blue when I met you with Talia- I punched your lights out because of it remember?” Jason supplies, looking perturbed and having a small child look equally perturbed back at him.

“You never met me in Nanda Parbat. And mother would have never allowed you to attack above your station and live.”

“Kid I literally have the scars from my punishment. My memory from that time after the pit might not be great or even good but I know, I know I punched your lights out.”

“No doubt you have been fooled by a clone then-“ Damian says but he looks upset.

“Talia called you Dami then, you’ve never let us call you that.” Jason supplies further, he was certain that Talia had introduced him as her son.

“I was never called such an informal name.” But Damian looks disturbed more than he looks like he wants to fight.

Eventually, after combing through their collective memory of Talia's where abouts and Damian's lack of interaction with Todd, it’s decided that they have to talk to Drake who was there the most recently. Neither wants to add the fact that he's also the most knowledgeable family member when it comes to the LoA now.

“Huh? Yeah, it looks like Talia kept ledgers dividing her time between two places- the journal reads like there is Dami as Damian but… maybe it’s Dami AND Damian…” Tim reviews the books he robbed them of with a fine tooth comb and suddenly this pattern of using the “nickname” and the “full name” start to show a “first child” and a “second child”.

Damian was clearly the favorite. The ‘Dami’ kid was sent away on a suicide mission pretty early in their lives, he would have left right after Todd did at the age of 8-ish. They all groaned at the cold trail following this assignment he failed to return from- it meant that they had to involve Bruce with a DNA search of the local areas the kid had been sent to across the globe. One of which, weirdly enough, was in Illinois.

…

“My name isn’t Daniel” Danny sighs at yet another event the Mansons brought him to with Vlad looking over his shoulder every five minutes.

Then the weird skinny kid who’s the big talk of the town approaches him with some guy built like a tank and says: “It’s Damian, isn’t it?”

Danny literally sinks through the floors, but in his attempts to run out the back door he’s stopped- By a guy that has Danny's own face and a very sharp looking knife pressed to Danny's throat.

In short- Danny introduced himself to the Fentons as “Dami” but they misheard him and called him Danny and fuck it, it’s close enough.

Now it turns out that their mother only planned on one surviving the artificial womb and gave them very different amounts of her time- so she just gave them the same name and reported it like she only had one child.

[summeritsclear]

.

[abzania]

List of Book!Crowley things I think you should know:

Owns a collection of soul music (that he's very proud of)

Has snake skin boots that may or may not be his feet

Has a tendency to hiss when he forgets himself

Whispers commentary to Aziraphale while the Metatron and Beelzebub discuss if Armageddon should happen

Is an optimist who believes the Universe will take care of him

Reads novels

Loves naps, particularly after a large meal

Bought petrol just for the bullet hole decals

Doesn't make reservations because that's something that only happens to "other people"

Believes every car has a cassette player, so every car he drives does, even if it's not supposed to

Breathes life back into a dove Aziraphale accidentally smothered in his jacket

Likes classical music, but can't listen to it because the cassettes keep turning into "Best of Queen" albums

Thinks about putting his message box cassette into his car to turn Hastur into a "Best of Queen" album but decides he's not that evil

Thinks satanists are weird/disturbing

Can do weird things with his tongue

Also, highlight from the book you should see, because Crowley is fucking adorable:

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

what’s your favorite scary movie?

summary: porn star eddie is doing a halloween film with his costar, one that involves a certain mask.

pairing: porn star eddie x porn star reader

word count: 5.9k

warnings: being filmed, daddy kink, use of a realistic plastic knife (nothing weird with it, though), unprotected sex, creampies, choking, brief oral sex (m & f receiving), mentions of anal, breast play, anal fingering (f receiving), degradation, rough sex, kinda dubcon

a/n: im aware halloween is over, but its always Halloween in my mind! also, sorry if anything like this has been done. I just returned to tumblr, and haven’t read many fics here in like 8-9 months.

18+ ONLY. minors do not interact or follow, or you’re getting blocked.

————————————-

Ring! Ring!

The phone next to you was ringing its familiar ringtone, and you looked at it with an eye roll. Unknown number, typical. You were acting the part of someone who didn’t like spam calls, but you hated them just as much in real life, too. You turned your attention back to the TV, ready to forget all about it and delete any voice mail they may leave, when it began to ring again. The same number popped up, and you killed the call. They called again, and again, and after the fifth time, you’d finally had enough.

“What do you want?” you asked irritably.

“y/n,” a deep voice came over the phone. “How nice to catch you.”

“Who is this?” you asked. 

“That doesn’t matter,” he said, and you could hear a grin in his voice. “I was lonely, and thought I would give you a call.”

“Very funny,” you said. “Tell me who you are.”

“What’s the fun of that?” he asked. “Isn’t mystery supposed to be more fun?”

“Is it?” you asked. “You’re probably just someone I know, trying to play some kind of weird joke.”

“Am i?” he asked. “I don’t think I know you at all.”

“Then how did you know my name and my number?” you asked. “Answer me that.”

“Maybe I have my own methods,” he said. “Ever think of that?”

“Ha ha,” you said with an eye roll. You hung up, but the same number called again and you picked up. “Yes?”

“That wasn’t very wise of you,” he said dangerously. “You didn’t even let me ask my questions.”

“They’re probably something really fucking gross,” you said. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Now, now,” he said, tsking. “What do you take me for?”

“A pervert,” you said.

“You’re right,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “But that isn’t why I’m calling you.”

“No?” you asked with a chuckle. “Coulda fooled me.” 

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asked, and you could almost hear the grin in his voice.

“What the fuck?” you asked, sitting up on the couch. “What kind of question is that?”

“Are you going to answer it?”

“No, now goodbye���”

“Hang up again, and you’ll regret it.”

The threatening tone of his voice gave you pause. “Who is this?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asked again.

“Whatever,” you said, and dared to hang up. It didn’t last long until he called again, and you rolled your eyes as you answered. “What?!”

“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” he said. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m not gonna entertain you,” you said. “You’re a fucking creep.”

“Just answer my question and I’ll leave you alone,” he said.

“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “I really like Psycho, Halloween, Friday the 13th, The Exorcist.”

“I know you like Friday the 13th,” he said, and he laughed evilly on the other end. “I can see that you’re watching it right now.”

You froze, sitting bolt upright. “What did you just say?”

“Never mind that,” he said. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No..” you answered automatically, looking around the darkness of your windows for any signs of life. “How do you know what I’m watching…?”

“Just a guess,” he said.

You got up and turned on all the lights, looking around again to see if you could spot someone. “Look, I need to go–”

“Don’t hang up,” he nearly shouted.

“Look, this isn’t funny or cute anymore,” you said. “I’m really uncomfortable, so if you could please–”

“You look really sexy in your pretty lingerie,” he said. “I mean, I think that’s what it is. You’re wearing that pretty pink babydoll with a thong. You like to tease people, y/n? That isn’t very nice.”

“Fuck you, creep,” you said.

“You didn’t ask what my favorite scary movie is,” he said.

“I don’t care!” you cried. “Leave me alone!”

“It’s The Strangers,” he said, and you could swear his voice sounded different now. More echo, closer somehow. “You know, that movie where those people break into that house.”

“I’m–” you began, and your back collided with someone as you backed away. 

You played the part of terrified really well, and you could see the cameraman giving you a thumbs up as you kept the facade. You turned around slowly, shouting in surprise when you came face to face with a man in a mask. He was in all black, and the rest of his mask was black as well, except for the face. It looked like a ghost, its mouth agape in some kind of eternal shock. In his hand was a knife, but you knew it wasn’t a real one. It was plastic that was made to look like the real deal, something the director found at a joke shop for a little bit of nothing. You shrieked and tried to run away, but he grabbed you and held you against his back as he stroked your hair in a near-loving gesture.

“Shh,” he said in your ear, trailing the knife down your arm. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Could have fooled me,” you said, feeling yourself already starting to get wet as you felt him hardening against your ass. “Why are you here, then?”

“I was hoping maybe I’d get lucky,” he purred, moving the knife between your breasts as you shivered. “You’re so much hotter up close.”

“And what do YOU look like under that thing?” you asked, your voice conveying the whole “stall him” vibe that the director wanted you to go for. “It’s not really fair that you see me and I can’t see you. If you’re really not gonna hurt me, then why won’t you show me?”

“I’ll show you,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “If you do one thing for me.”

“What?” you asked, turning your head so that you could look at him slightly. 

“Show me those pretty, perfect tits,” he said in your ear, running the knife between them again. “Outside of that baby doll.”

“And what would you do for me in return?” you asked, turning around in his grip and looking into that mask. “Let me live?”

“Maybe,” he said, looking you up and down. “But first, I’ll just show you my face if you do. Let’s start there, yeah?”

You smirked at him, lowering the thin straps of the baby doll and biting your lip. “You’re probably some total asshole under there. I mean, who calls random women at nine on a Friday night, stalks them, then breaks into their house?”

“Keep going,” he said, his eyes on your breasts. “Show me.”

“You’re a real pervert, you know that?” you said.

“And look what you’re doing,” he said smugly. “Giving into me.”

“You came here to kill me,” you said. “I know that to be true, but it seems like you changed your mind. Why?”

“Because why would I waste such a good set of tits?” he asked. “And I know that pussy of yours is also perfect.”

You swallowed, but smirked as you pulled the baby doll down. You exposed your breasts to him, and heard him suck in a breath. That wasn’t scripted; it was his genuine reaction. You bit your lip again, smiling as you stood before him. He took the knife and dragged it over one erect nipple, causing you to shiver and moan slightly. That also wasn’t scripted or an act, and you knew that whatever happened from this point onward, it was going to be genuine. Well, aside from the basic acts they wanted you to perform on each other, but the reactions? It would be all you, and him. 

“Like what you see?” you asked, shaking them a bit as he groaned.

“Fuck yes,” he said, his ringed hands coming up to grope them. You moaned a little, head tipping slightly as he massaged them in his hands. “I guess I need to hold up my end of the bargain, too, huh?”

“Mmm hmm,” you said, mewling as he gave your nipples a soft pinch. “Shit…”

He stepped back, and you whined at the loss of contact. He lifted the mask with one hand, revealing his face underneath. You acted as though you were surprised to see just how sexy he really was, and his pierced tongue came out between his lips with a devils-horn gesture at the top of his head. You smiled, moving closer to him and running your hands down his chest as he looked you up and down again. Soon, he was grabbing your head forcefully, and drawing your lips to his in a passionate, hard kiss. It turned sloppy, your hands wandering and his, too, finding purchase on your hips as he squeezed. Your tongue played with his piercing, and you could feel the presence of the cameraman in front of you both as you made out. One hand tangled in his hair, the other palming the big bulge that was forming in the front of his pants. His hands came up, grabbing your breasts hard as you moaned into his mouth. He tugged your lower lip between his teeth, moving away to start kissing down your neck. 

“You feel so big,” you breathed, mewling as his teeth found your sweet spot. “Fuck…”

“You have no idea,” he said, pulling your body to his before grabbing your ass. “I want you so bad.”

“Come on,” you said, taking his hand and leading him into the living room. You pushed him down on the couch, straddling his lap before grinding against his dick. “You know what I want you to do?”

“What?” he panted. 

“Want you to rip this thing off of me,” you said in his ear, tugging the lobe in your teeth. 

“Oh?” he asked, grabbing the back of it and tearing it down the middle. “Like that?”

“Mmm hmm,” you hummed, kissing his neck as he moaned. “And I want you to put the mask back on.”

“Okay,” he said, smirking before his face disappeared beneath the Ghostface mask again. 

“You know what else I want?” you asked, moaning as you continued to glide along his clothed erection.

“Hm?”

“I want that big, thick cock down my throat.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You could hear the smirk in his voice, and it would have infuriated you under any other circumstances. Right then, though, you were too turned on to care. You moved from your spot on his lap to slide to your knees, keeping your eyes on him as you did so. You palmed the bulge in his pants again, feeling how hard he was and suppressing a moan. He watched you from beneath the mask, both of his arms stretched along the back of the couch as you pulled his pants down. His breathing picked up a bit as you put your mouth over his cock through his boxers, and soon, you were pulling those down, too. He was exposed to you now, all nine inches of his thick, pierced, flushed erection at your mercy. As per the script, you teased him a little, sucking on his piercing before swirling your tongue around his slit. He mewled, panting as you took the tip in your lips and sucked eagerly. His arms remained on the back of the couch, not moving yet as you started planting messy, noisy, open mouthed kisses all over the entire length of his cock. You moved farther down to take his big balls into your mouth as well, sucking on them with a moan as you jerked him off skillfully. He was panting a little more heavily now, and you traced his large vein with your tongue as you made your way back up his length.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” he growled.

“Sorry, uh…” you said. “I don’t know what to call you.”

“You can call me Daddy,” he said, reaching down with one hand to stroke your cheek. “And what shall I call you, huh?”

“Anything you want,” you said with a wink, spitting on his cock and jerking him off. “Such a big dick, fuck.” 

“What did I say about teasing?” he asked, tilting your chin up with the knife.

“Sorry, Daddy,” you said, opening your mouth and taking his entire cock.

You gagged for a moment until you got your reflex under control, which was something you’d gotten good at in the business. You could feel him in your throat, stretching, his piercing at the back of it as you drug your head up, then back down. He was moaning above you under the mask, his head tipped back as he tangled a hand in your hair. You looked up at him, bobbing your head slowly as you gripped his base in one hand. You began to jerk him off in time with your movements, ignoring the camera man as he came around to get some close up shots. It felt as if he wasn’t even there, that’s how into it you were starting to get. You could feel your pussy throbbing, wetness settling in the thong you still wore as you sucked him off.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, tugging on your hair as you hollowed your cheeks. “You’re so fucking good at that. You’re a filthy little cock slut, aren’t you? I mean, who else just gets on her knees for a man she’s just met, especially one who broke into her house to hurt her?”

You responded by twisting your wrist, eyes still on him as you sucked him off messily. Drool cascaded from his dick and onto the floor below, and your throat was starting to hurt a bit from his piercing. But he was so hot, THIS was so hot, and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. His hips bucked upward with a loud moan, and you choked as more of his cock went down your throat again. He stroked your cheek tenderly, before yanking you off of his dick. Spit bridged your lips to the tip, and you looked up at him in surprise. Was this scripted? You couldn’t quite remember, but either way, it sent a fresh wave of arousal to your cunt.

“Rub my dick across your tits,” he said. 

“Those are one of my biggest insecurities,” you replied, but did as he asked as he moaned filthily. “But you like them, huh?”

“Fuck yes,” he panted, watching as you sucked his tip again. “You’re so hot.”

“Thanks,” you said, and you continued to alternate between rubbing his dick over your breasts and sucking him off. After a little while, he forced you to stop by grabbing your jaw. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up,” he growled. “Did I say I was ready to cum yet?”

“No, Daddy,” you said, reaching out to jerk him off. “But I can’t stop worshipping this huge, perfect dick of yours.”

He grabbed your wrist and pinned it to the couch, causing you to whine. “Let me make you feel good.”

“You already did,” he said, grabbing your spit-soaked chin in one hand and forcing you to look up into his mask. “Now, it’s my turn.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to take him into your mouth again, but you were greeted by a light slap to your cheek. “What?”

“I said stop it,” he said, pushing you away as he got up off the couch. “Sit up here for me.”

You whined, but did as he said. You sat down on the couch, watching as he lifted the mask again. He kissed you hungrily, sloppily, one ringed hand squeezing your jaw before it found your throat. He choked you for a moment, and you moaned as his hands found your breasts. He massaged them skillfully, his rings cold against your heated skin, his fingers rubbing your nipples until they were hard buds. He pinched them, tugged on them, swiped his fingers across them, all while you moaned hotly in his mouth. He grabbed his plastic knife, running it over & between your breasts before dragging it over your waist and stomach. 

“I’m going to show you just what I’m capable of,” he said, kissing down your neck after leaving a series of hickeys in his wake. He nipped at your collarbones, before he found your breasts. “You have the hottest body I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“All the other girls you broke in on weren’t as hot, huh?” you asked.

“Not even close,” he said, pulling one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking generously. “Such an amazing set of tits.”

“Fuck…” you whined, one hand in his hair as he tugged your nipple in his teeth. You knew the cameraman was probably getting a pretty good shot with that; Eddie was skilled, he knew what he was doing and how to work a woman’s body. You were reacting to him, wetness pooling in your thong, and you spread your legs for him as you grabbed one of his hands. “I want you to touch me. Please, I need it.”

“So needy, princess,” he said, giving your other nipple the same treatment as the last. He drug the knife down, running it over your cunt as he smirked. “I’ll bet you’re soaking wet for me, aren’t you? You’re such a depraved fucking slut, you know that? Putting out for me like this, soaking that pretty thong for me.”

“Touch me the right way and find out, asshole,” you challenged, and you could feel him grinning against your breast. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said, smiling up at you as he started to kiss his way down your stomach. They weren’t gentle, tender kisses; they were needy, hard, bruising. You knew you’d have some marks there tomorrow. “Just that you think it’s so funny and cute to be calling me names right now, when I’ve got the upper hand.” 

“Who says you’ve got the upper hand?” you asked, and he slapped your thigh hard as you yelped. “You didn’t have to do that!”

“Shut up,” he snarled, kneeling in front of you and spreading your legs as wide as they would go. He peeled off your thong, and the cameraman moved behind him to get a shot of your pussy. “Fuck, look at that. So fucking pretty and so goddamn wet.”

“I can’t help it,” you said, shivering as he ran the knife over your bare cunt. “Daddy…”

“I’m going to make you fucking scream, baby,” he said, and he immediately began to devour you.

You had never been eaten out like that before, either off camera or on. The way his pierced tongue moved through your cunt, so skillful and hungry, had you moaning loudly. You usually had to fake your moans, or at the very least, over exaggerate them. Not now; right now, every single noise that fell from your lips was genuine. He was devouring you, his tongue flicking your clit with every drag upward, his hands gripping your thighs tight enough to leave more bruises. You reached down to grab his hair, and he moaned as you pulled it roughly. His piercing dragged through your saturated folds, slowly and teasingly, before he pressed it tightly against your clit. More wetness soaked his face, and his fingers soon joined the mix. The cameraman was getting some great shots, and Eddie began to fuck you roughly on his fingers while his mouth did its magic.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” you gasped, rutting against his face as you clenched around his fingers. “I need more.”

“More?” he asked, his free hand dragging the knife over your thigh. “How much more? I’m giving you all I can, you greedy whore.”

“I want more,” you insisted, your eyes nearly rolling back as he started sucking on your clit. “Please…”

“Is this what you want?” he asked, gathering some of your wetness on the fingers of his free hand and pushing a finger inside of your ass. “Huh?”

“Yes,” you gasped, looking down into his big brown eyes as he started to eat your pussy again. “Fuck, please…”

He took his fingers out of your cunt, instead focusing on your ass. He shook his head back & forth rapidly, growling, his eyes still trained on your face. You kept looking down at him, playing with your breasts as his tongue swirled your clit. You tugged your nipples, and soon he was slapping your hand away with his free one to take over. He squeezed it, massaging it, pinching the nipple as hard as he could. You cried out, and you could feel the familiar sensation in your lower stomach that indicated an orgasm was imminent. He kept going, lapping at your pussy as if his life depended on it, shaking his head occasionally, using his piercing to his advantage. He began to fuck you on his tongue as he fingered your ass, moaning as more of your taste flooded his tongue.

“So fucking good,” he mumbled, moaning as he reached down to jerk himself off. “I’m going to fucking cum just from eating your pussy.”

“I’d rather you cum inside of me,” you said. “I wanna feel that big dick in my tight, wet pussy right now. Wanna feel you pumping me full of cum, and feel how good you are inside of me. Please.”

“You’d rather cum around my dick?” he asked, raising a brow at you.

“Mmm hmm,” you said. “But you gotta put the mask back on.”

“Tired of my face already?” he teased, pulling his finger out and putting the mask back on. “Alright, have it your way. How do you want me to fuck you?”

“From behind,” you said.

“Just like a disgusting fucking whore, huh?” he asked, slapping your ass as you stood up. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good, baby.”

“Then do it,” you said. “Stop talking about it and just do it already, asshole.”

He slapped your ass hard, leaving a large red handprint in his wake. You yelped but giggled, wiggling your ass toward him as he spanked it again. He held the knife to your throat, pulling you up by your head as his mouth found your ear. You could feel his giant cock throbbing against your ass, and knew he was close already. But if everything you heard about his reputation was true, you knew that didn’t mean anything. He could apparently hold off for quite awhile, even that close, and you were looking forward to having him inside of you. In fact, you needed it more than you ever needed anything. You were tired of doing films with men who had average or below average dicks; they didn’t do anything for you, and you always had to fake it. But with Eddie? You highly doubted you would have that problem.

“Keep calling me that and I’ll slit your fucking throat,” he said in your ear, pressing the hard plastic a little more firmly to your throat. “You’re in no position right now to be a fucking bitch.”

“I think I am,” you said, grinning smugly at him as you pushed back against his cock. “You’ve got me right where you want me, right? So, instead of making empty threats and being a douchebag, why don’t you just fuck me?”

He slapped your ass hard again, dragging the knife across your throat ever so gently. “You’re fucking lucky I think you’re so hot. Otherwise, I would be ending this right fucking now by cutting you wide open.”

“Fuck me already!” you said. “You’re–”

You were cut off by a loud moan as you felt him pushing inside of you. You cried out as his thick length stretched your pussy, and you could feel his piercing deep inside. He held onto your hips to anchor himself, bending you over the couch as he pushed himself deeper. You nearly screamed as you felt that piercing on your cervix, but it hurt so good. You reached down and squeezed his hand, and you could tell that he was trying hard not to break character to hold your hand. He had to know how it felt, and you could tell that he was holding back, even still. The director seemed not to notice, though; he just instructed his cameraman to get a shot of his cock buried deep inside of your pussy. He was almost fully inside, and it took you a minute to adjust to how it felt. Never had you been this full, never had anything felt so good, and you weren’t sure how long YOU would be able to last. He was moaning behind you, and you felt his dick twitch. That caused you to moan filthily, and you looked behind your shoulder into his masked face, a smirk on your own.

“What are you waiting for, Daddy?” you asked, biting your lip. “Fuck me.”

He started to thrust, keeping them slow and shallow at first. The cameraman looked up questioningly, and the director simply shrugged and instructed him to keep filming. You moaned, feeling that piercing against your cervix again with every movement inward. He kept hold of your hips, and soon, he was fucking you a little harder. You knew that he was making sure you were okay first, something that he seemingly didn’t do with any of his other costars. Maybe he found a soft spot for you, or maybe the rest of them were used to taking dicks his size. Either way, you thought the gesture of going off script was rather touching, and you looked back at him with a smile. You couldn’t tell if he was reciprocating, but the sharp thrust inside of you somehow told you that he was.

“You’re so fucking tight and wet,” he said, starting to absolutely DRILL you as you nearly screamed. “Listen to that, can you hear it?”

You could. As he fucked into you harder, you could hear just how wet you truly were for him. His fingers dug into your skin, his breath in your ear, and you just moaned as you clenched hard around him. That caused him to groan, and you smirked as you did it again. This brought another loud crack to your ass, and you yelped as the knife made another appearance at your throat.

“Stop doing that,” he growled. “You needy bitch.”

“Sorry,” you said, but did it again.

He stopped thrusting, putting the knife down to grab your throat with his hands. He choked you for a moment, chuckling darkly as you kept clenching around him. He began to move again but kept his grip, letting go only when you started clawing at his hands. He reached around to grope your breasts, rubbing the nipples as he absolutely pounded you against the couch. He was panting and groaning, the sounds filling the air as the cameraman got another shot of him fucking into you. You could feel your lower stomach tightening, but you weren’t ready for this to be over yet. Fuck, he felt so goddamn good; you never wanted it to end. You would have been content going on forever just like this, with him inside of you as you whined desperately. He knew you were getting desperate, too; he reached down, rubbing your clit in hard, fast circles as you cried out. You clenched again, his hands now on your shoulders as you braced against the couch. He drilled your needy, soaking cunt, each bump to your cervix causing you to moan even louder.

“Cum for me,” he said. “Show me just how much you fucking love what I’m doing to you. Show me what a greedy whore you are for my cock.”

You moaned, and were shocked to see that he was pulling out of you. The director was about to intervene, but Eddie was pushing you onto your back on the couch. He lifted your legs to his shoulders and pushed inside of you again, causing you to moan hotly as he filled you up again. The director stopped and instructed the cameraman to keep going, and you looked up into his masked face with a look of pleasure on yours. You arched under him, writhing, your hands finding his clothed back and digging your nails into the fabric. He pounded you hard, the new angle causing him to hit into your sweet spot. He didn’t use his entire cock this time; instead, he decided to get creative, and fucked directly into your G-spot. The feel of the piercing against it was so fucking good, and you tore at his dark shirt as he pounded against you.

“That’s it,” he cooed, the strokes of his cock remaining shallow and deep as your mouth fell slack. “Cum around my cock, princess.”

“Fuck,” you whined, your jaw still open as your head tipped back. “I’m gonna cum so hard, Daddy.”

“Cum for me,” he coaxed, his fingers rubbing hard circles on your clit again. “Do it for me. Show me how desperate you are to let some stranger fuck you like this.”

Tears began to leak out of your eyes. They weren’t bad; it was just so much, so overwhelming. You could tell that he was having doubts, so you sat up slightly to bury your face in his neck. He groaned, thrusting harder before pushing you back down. He pinned you to the couch, both of his large hands holding you down as he mercilessly pounded you. More tears leaked from your eyes, and he laughed wickedly under the mask.

“What’s wrong?” he taunted. “Is my dick too big for you, you disgusting slut? Can’t take it all?”

“No, i can,” you said, trying to get out of his grip. 

“Then take it and cum for me,” he coaxed, fucking you as hard as he could. “Go ahead, show me you can do it.”

It didn’t take much more for you to cum. A few more strokes of his cock, a few more swipes with his fingers, and that was it. You screamed in pleasure, and none of that was exaggerated or fake, either. You squirted around him twice, and the director was staring in awe as the cameraman caught everything. You kept arching, moaning, bucking up against him as he continued to pound into you. He was panting above you under the mask, moaning as you felt him twitch inside of you. He was fighting hard to keep going, but you knew he was going to lose that fight very soon. You reached down and took his knife, holding it up with a smirk.

“You wanna hold this to my throat again?” you asked. “Maybe that would get you off.”

He took it and did just that, holding it on your throat as he pounded you. You moaned, clenching around him, bucking your hips up against his thrusts to aid him. He looked down at your breasts, then back to where the knife was held to your throat, and you felt him twitch twice. You knew it was coming and, sure enough, it did a moment later. He came hard inside of you, moaning through it, his head bowed as he allowed his orgasm to take him over. He continued to thrust until it was done, stopping and nearly collapsing on top of you before pulling out. But he wasn’t finished, and you already knew what was coming because of the script. He pulled you to a sitting position and opened your legs, eyeing your dripping cunt as he rubbed the knife between both of his hands. 

“Look at that,” he said, running his fingers through your sensitive pussy before he knelt in front of you. “I made such a mess of you, didn’t I?”

“Mmm hmm,” you said, moaning as he lifted his mask. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“I think you know,” he said, dragging the knife over your thigh again before he started eating you out once more. “I’m nowhere close to being fucking done with you, you fucking slut. If you think that I am, then you’d better think again.”

“So much for scary movies, huh?” you asked, moaning as he began to devour your pussy even more desperately. 

“I think this is much better,” he said, eating you out more feverishly. “You know what we should try? You know, since you’re such a filthy girl.”

“What?” you asked, moaning as he fucked you on his tongue.

“Giving it to you up the ass,” he said. “I think that would be fun, don’t you agree?”

“And cut!” the director called.

You whined as Eddie broke away from you, standing up as he helped you. The director was coming onto the set to talk to the cameraman, both of them seemingly pleased with what they’d gotten. Eddie sat the mask and the knife down on the couch, grabbing a water as someone on set offered one. He handed it to you, and you accepted it with a big smile. You took a drink, and Eddie’s hand was on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. He pulled his pants back up and gestured for someone to bring over your clothes. You slipped them on once they did, and Eddie wrapped your jacket around your shoulders for you with a smile. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean, I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I? I tried to be as careful–”

“No, I’m okay,” you assured him. “Really. I just wasn’t used to someone that big.”

“A lot of the women aren’t,” he said with an apologetic grin. “I always ask them to let me go in slow and careful, but they never really let me. I guess they don’t want to shatter the illusion. It’s just…you were crying, and i was so scared that i was hurting you.”

“Well, I can promise you that I’m totally fine,” you said, taking another sip of the water. “Do you think we did well enough for them?”

“Oh, I think we did,” he said with a chuckle. 

“Something tells me they’ll be asking us to do another one together very soon,” you said. 

“In that case,” he said, smiling as he leaned closer to you and offered an arm. “How about I buy you dinner? I know I’ve worked up a hell of an appetite tonight.”

You grinned, taking his arm with a nod. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

____________

taglist: @littledemondani @andvys @wroteclassicaly @succubusmunson @eddieschains @trashmouth-richie @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @reidsbtch @taintedcigs @happylilthought @sunkillerdreamer @battymunson @whore4romance @hallovoid @harrys-housewife14 @alovesongtheywrote @filthy-gorgeous @emmyshortcake @softgoodsstyles @deathlyweird 

[kechiwrites]

choking hazard

simon “ghost” riley x medic!reader

synopsis: you have a very special request for simon. he thinks you're insane.

wc: 1.3k

cw: afab!reader, choking, grinding, hotdogging, haphazard kink negotiation, thigh riding, playful name-calling, no use of y/n ever.

an: a quick little bite of simon and medic reader for this challenge, which i technically failed cause this is way over 100 words. happy thanksgiving

“What?” He asks, but really, it lacks the traditional inflection of a question. Instead, the single word manages to hold deep exhaustion and a healthy helping of ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’. 

Which, rude.

You stomp your foot, the moue of your lips more than a little petulant. “Oh, come on, don’t make it weird. Just...a little. Enough to pass out.” you raise your hand and pinch the air for emphasis.

“What?” Oh! The inflection was back, and he’d shifted weight onto his other foot. His cotton mask allows for you to see the top half of his face today, and you’re grateful, because the furrow in his brow exposes that while he really wants to just up and leave this conversation, he’s far too curious, or maybe perplexed? Disturbed?

“I want you to choke me out, Simon.” You grin, shrugging, “preferably with your cock in me but...” You mutter to yourself, pressing your lips together and widening your eyes in mock innocence when he glares at you in response, obviously hearing you. 

“No.” He turns away from you, pushing around the ceramic skull you placed in your office. A paperweight, whose presence had absolutely no hidden, romantic meaning whatsoever, you’d simply seen it in a home goods display off base and snatched it up. 

It had been on sale. Or something.

“I’m a doctor.” You tap your name tag insistently, “I know my limits, Si.” Now you’re just trying to rile him up, as if he’d ever lay a hand on you in anger you didn’t expressly beg for. Still, he hates when you shorten his name, used to hate it when you said it at all. 

Thankfully, things change.

“Fucking quack.” He mutters and you make a loud, dramatic, wounded noise you’d heard in a K-Drama you had watched once before flipping back to your favourite period drama you’d watched a million times over. You flatten your hand against your chest and rear back, more for your own gratification than to impress your offence upon Simon. 

“I’m serious! I’m curious and I know it won’t cause any real, lasting damage.” You approach him from behind, wrapping your arms around his middle. He flinches, not from surprise, you guess, but from sensation, before his body relaxes. You push your face between his shoulder blades, rubbing your nose against his shirt. 

“I’ll suck you off after.” You murmur, and the lieutenant snorts derisively. 

No dice.

“Then I’ll ask Soap to do it!” You release him, and circle around your desk, feigning a grab towards your cell phone.

He doesn’t rise to the bait initially, turning back to face you and crossing his inked, scarred arms. You ogle them shamelessly, eyes greedily tracing every bit of knicked skin, every prominent, tempting vein. Thing of beauty, his arms were. “Go on, then.” He shrugs and consternation makes you furrow your brow in defeat. Unfortunately, the closer the two of you become, the more bags of candy and suggestive texts and lingering glances you exchange, the easier it is to read the other’s intent, your bluffs. 

You pout, and kick at the corner of your own desk, shifting it slightly. “Fine. I wouldn’t ask him.” You tilt your head, pinning him with a needy look you hope is suitably enticing, “I’m asking you cause I trust you, Simon. Please?” 

Apparently, bald, earnest honesty is the ticket because your not-boyfriend heaves a sigh and uncrosses his arms, raising one to rub at the back of his neck, the black t-shirt he dons stretched tantalizingly tight over the curve of his muscled bicep.

Oh, this was going to be so good.

“Fine. Just don’t piss yourself.” 

“Do people do that?” You wrinkle your nose, and Simon levels you with a look, dark brown eyes broadcasting a stark “Do I fucking look like I’m joking?” 

Regardless, you clap your hands in celebration, locking the door to your office and sprinting back to stand in front of him, the framed photo of your commanding officer, your mother, and you looking on judgmentally. You try to ignore it but end up putting the photo down on its face, no need for dear mum and your boss to witness your fantasy come to life.

Simon turns you to face away from him, the heat of his hands seeping into your shoulders. He is always so warm. It had been a boon to your freezing feet the few times you’d shared a bed for actual sleeping. (He’d cursed at you for maybe a minute before hiking your legs up to bracket his hips, so you could fall asleep wrapped around him like a koala.)

“Double tap, you understand?” He barks, and you can’t help but shimmy in excitement. 

“Yup!” 

Simon wraps a burly arm around your neck, not exerting any pressure yet. He hooks his other arm around his wrist so it sits in his elbow, and places that palm on the crown of your head, securing you snugly in a standard choke-hold. 

“Good?” He mutters low, his chest blankets your back, and you're enveloped in the clean, sharp scent he usually carries with him.

You laugh, “Yeah-huh-huh-huh.” and you know you sound a little stupid, but you’re getting what you wanted and even without Simon utilizing force, you can feel yourself getting wet, forcing you to rub your thighs together in anticipation.

He begins to constrict your airway and it feels as though your head is ballooning, building up pressure as breathing slowly becomes more and more difficult. Your eyelids flutter closed and your lips part in shock. It doesn’t feel good, necessarily, but it certainly doesn’t feel bad. It’s obvious Simon’s holding back a lot. It probably should hurt but the lack of air makes your mind stutter to a stop, and all you can feel is Simon’s heat along your back and his strength holding you in place and his scent where it’s stalled in your lungs, unable to escape. When he shifts a bit behind you, your eyes pop back open in surprise at what you feel.

“You’re hard!” You wheeze incredulously, using the very last bit of air you had to call him out.

“And you’re a fucking lunatic.” He bites back, jerking his hips forward to rub his clothed erection against the swell of your ass. And he’s been doing that a lot lately, pushing up against your back, grinding along the fat of your thighs. Just last week, he’d spent a whole night hot-dogging (“Dumb fucking name, huh?”) the aching length of his dick between the cheeks of your ass, fucking against your flesh until he spilled hot and thick over your lower back.

You think he may be developing a thing.

He keeps rocking against you, branding his shape into your backside. “God.” He mutters, pulling you up and sliding his knee between your thighs. You can’t speak, what with your brain rapidly losing function, but if you could you’d hiss your assent, maybe scream when the muscles of his thigh nudge against your clit. 

Your lungs and cunt burn in unison, and the edges of your vision fade, but you want to keep going, want to come just like this, completely under his control, dry humping his massive thigh, unable to breathe.

Finally, you raise a shaky hand to tap at his forearm, and Simon immediately releases you, letting you stumble forward, off his leg and towards your desk. Your palms make contact with the polished wood and you hunch forward panting loud and hard. The room is fucking spinning, but all you can bring yourself to do is laugh like a fucking maniac.

“You good?” The soldier speaks, the sound of his footsteps just barely piercing through the sound of your rushing blood. Your voice is practically non-existent and you have to clear your throat three times, but when you do eventually croak out a response, your chest heaves with your desperate breaths in between your words. 

“Yeah, fuck yes.” Your chest slowly loses that frantic, mounting pressure and when you turn your head to look at Simon over your shoulder, his eyes are unfathomably dark and narrowed, running laps over your legs, thighs and ass.

“Good. Take your scrubs off. Right now.”