#THE GREAT DICK DEBATE

[tswwwit]

i have a counter argument to the 'only one person can boop bill' thing, mabel. she's the type of person to slap stickers on people, she would definitely be the type to also boop others occasionally and bill would be no exception. she probably doesn't do it to annoy bill like dipper would, but maybe as a form of a friendly gesture, kind of like those people who will lightly punch friends in the arm when they hang out.

You know what? Good point. Mabel would get away with more than most, as a fun-loving lady! Bill understands those impulses, and being a touchy person! He indulges in similar ones himself.

Though when Bill's not in the mood to be playful and gets booped anyway? The 'sister-in-law' status grants her considerable grace.

#answers #Though in addition to that - Mabel's general chaos and level of Fun Times is something Bill genuinely likes #Catch these two having one too many margaritas and slinging arms over each other's shoulders while singing too loud and off key #She'd have some leeway even without the brother situation #But Mabel gets a pass on things she normally wouldn't purely on the merit of 'this would piss off the spouse' #The thing about Bill is he's genuinely fun to party with - right up until he decides you're the pinata #Even now there are times when she thinks she's doing something 'cute' and Bill was NOT in the mood but just has to grin and bear it #Instead of breaking fingers one by one #Dipper is singular in his ability to get away with Pretty Much Everything #It's love yest but it's also communication and personality I'm afraid #If Bill DID call Dipper out on doing something Too Far he'd get an embarrassed and apologetic husband. With kisses of sorry. #Though in minor circumstances: he starts arguing with him #Turns out that bickering is a better way to deescalate with Bill than most other tactics and Dipper's a pro #Now Bill's gotta think semi-rationally to Win The Argument instead of acting on impulse. #And in the process of debate he not only: learns where his husband's coming from but has time to cool off #Congratulations Dipper! Your Nerdy Logic brain and ability to Rise to a Challenge prevent Bill from going immediately nuclear #Plus showing off that big sexy intellect of yours doesn't hurt #Whereas I see Mabel pushing one of Bill's few boundaries and then deflecting. She ain't great at conflict #Brushing it off and laughing; Jeez it was just for fun!! Lighten up already! #Exactly what Bill says when HE'S being a dick to someone! #Which is why he'd react Very Badly to that excuse #Ha ha! Fun! Of course Bill loves fun! You know what HE thinks is FUN #Barbecue. Flash-fried pork ribs. Where's that stupid pig #Dipper has to disarm that particular bomb and I highly doubt it's a pleasant process

[wxnheart]

Which Primarchs have the prettiest dicks?

omg, it's that time of the year!

The Great Primarch Dick Debate!

I'll say this, anon, that your question I'll leave up for personal interpretation but the likes of, say, Horus, Dorn, Magnus, Gulliman, Fulgrim, and Sanguinius would keep their privates very neatly maintained thank you. Fulgrim would smell especially citrusy down there.

What I do headcanon, however, is that to everyone's shock and surprise, Lorgar is actually the most well-endowed of all his brothers.

#warhammer 40k #wh40crack. #primarch #primarch x reader #nsfw. #Great Primarch Dick Debate 2k23.

[red-talisman]

To each their own and all that, but I do think that folks who don't appreciate both a more morally nuanced Wei Wuxian and some Xicheng are missing out on the potentially very fucked up but extremely funny shenanigans that are the Twin Jades trying to wrangle their Twin Prides lotus gremlins.

#jc and wwx stop an assassin who's coming for jin ling and stand over the assassin's bound self debating what to do with him #wwx is like 'hey remember that thing we did with zidian that one time and i altered a couple of curse talismans - ' #jc is like 'you idiot of COURSE i remember it you tripped over nothing and landed on your face in that guy's guts - ' #'excuse YOU i tripped on BLOOD which YOU SPILLED you massive DICK' #'who're you calling a dick you DICK' retorts jc #meanwhile lwj is wondering how to tell his husband he can't dismember a living man in the jin's great hall without getting the Sad Face #lxc is looking for the silver lining which is that at least he found a man who DOESN'T try to hide that he's down to dismember people #so really he's already doing better than before! #jin ling is just like 'dear gods you're ALL so damaged' #hound barks #this is brought to you by my agenda to see more sibling dumbassery in this fandom #yes okay angst tragedy romance blah blah but we have FIVE SETS OF SIBLINGS with their own fun dynamics to play with! #i know i'm not the only asshole with siblings in this fandom #jukebox fic #well sorta

[whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon]

The wedding was

A lot.

For the first time in your adult life you lied.

Lied about how you felt.

How honored you were that Fulgrim chose you.

You could feel the mask more than ever.

The time crawled, and yet you found yourself standing at the end of the aisle. Clutching your beaming Father's arm as though you'd faint.

Maybe you would.

It was all too much. From the intricate and colorful decorations to the Servo skulls flitting about the The Goddamned Emporer overseeing the whole affair.

And your Groom standing at the end.

Waiting.

Eager.

Devouring.

You don't remember what happened after that. You know logically that you met Ferrus Manus's partner then, and spoke to Horus. But the actual memory is missing.

Overshadowed by that night.

The moment Fulgrim had you in his room all pretenses dropped.

He had all your favorite toys there already, and it wasn't long before your dress was on the floor and you were hopelessly entangled in red rope. Your body writhing and rubbing against his. It was in that moment of helplessness in his crushing grip that you felt like you were trapped in the coils of a massive snake, with two many hands to be natural.

You remembered the breath knocked out of you by the sheer force and fire of his load. Lying on your back staring up at him as you tried to drag in air.

His face was curtained and shadowed by that silver hair, but for the first time you saw concern. Genuine, concern.

"Are you alright love?"

"It..burns..." You gulped.

"I suppose it would," He pulled you into his lap and rubbed your back. Easing the recapture of your breath. It was... oddly tender for him.

"I don't suppose I need to tell you to keep this secret between us?"

And it was gone. You cast a glance at his massive member. It was still swollen and quivering. As though he could have kept going and giving you more and more until it became too much.

And yet at it's widest girth, which still hurt when he went in, it was much smaller proportionally than the rest of the Primarch.

A bit too small.

You suppressed a grin, even as he gave you a reproachful look for staring. "Mum on how you fit, understood."

He kissed the top of your head. "You are the worst," but he was smiling. The hand on your back sliding around to embrace your belly. "I wonder how long it'll take," He murmered.

You couldn't tell if it was an act or not, but for the duration of the pregnancy he was the perfect husband in truth. Hovering but helping as the baby grew larger and larger in your belly.

But his duties called, and your real help was close at hand.

Ferrus Manus's lover was a no-nonsense woman. Sent by her husband, one of seventeen such ambassadors from the other Primarchs, to observe the pregnancy. She was quick to send for aid or diagnose the source of pain.

And like you, a politicians daughter.

Your disciplines were like night and day. While you loved pretty things she had approached you in grease stained clothes more often than not. While you feared your husband she soothed his headaches.

"What I would give to leave with you," you told her once.

"Ah, I don't think Manus would believe us if you did." She replied.

And still the baby grew.

Things we didn't see: Fulgrim furiously brushing his mouth out with baking soda before the wedding so he doesn't give his Muse an acid kiss.

Goddess Anon

.

#fulgrim #fulgrim x reader #warhammer 40k #wh40crack. #yandere40k. #nsfw. #no words. just read. #good stuff as always Goddess Anon! #aw look at Fulgrim being considerate. marginally. maybe. #lmao @ Fulgrim losing the Great Primarch Dick Debate

[qcomicsy]

I think a thing that people get wrong about Jason's anger is that it's not explosive.

It's cold. Jason isn't the type of person who storms off at every little thing or goes throwing tantrums and setting things on fire blindfully.

He's the type of person who's very practical. He keeps to himself, always. You rarely see issues where Jason's anger is reactive at the moment where the trigger happens to him. If you see his character up close, most of the time when he's triggered his reaction is calm. Even cold.

He gets triggered -> He keeps to himself → He makes a plan → And then he reacts.

Jason's anger being something explosive and out of character and out of place is actually how other people (characters) see it, because they have no idea on how it's playing out on Jason's head.

And that's a thing you can see operating since he was a child.

Where the only exceptions about this effect is either when someone he believes needs his help is involved.

See Nightwing Annual (2021)

But In Batman #411 when Jason learns the fact that Two-Face was responsible for his father's death and Bruce was keeping that from him as a secret his first reaction isn't to blow up on him.

Was to seethe.

Bruce goes up home after dealing with a Two-Face case (in my field we call that poetic irony) and asks Alfred where Jason is, Alfred's answer is that he's been sleeping all day (which is a conclusion that Alfred drew probably after going to check on Jason and seeing him in fact on his bed all day).

But when you see the next panel, even though he is on the bed, He's fully awake and both his expression and his body language shows that he's in fact angry.

This is the first time he appears again in the comics after learning that Two Face killed his dad.

Jason doesn't go towards Bruce immediately to demand an explanation or ask why he did this, or even to throw the truth on his face.

(Which could be debatable that that's something the Dick would usually do, but I'm not that literate on Dick's comics)

His reaction wasn't immediate.

His reaction was to go to his bed and stay quiet. Jason stayed calm and collected the whole trip until meeting Two Face again.

But the moment Jason as Robin has the opportunity to get his hands on Two-Face he does this

From Bruce, and maybe Alfred's perspective it could be interpreted as out of place or him storming off.

But it isn't. Jason was able to keep his cool (even though he shut off), until he was face a face to Two Face.

Does that mean he planned that to happen?

That's debatable, in any moment of this issue it is shown that Jason was actually planning to get to Two Face and do this. I my personal opinion, other and much more plausible explanation is: That he was in fact trying to keep to himself but couldn't hold back the moment that he saw his dad's murder.

You can see the same thing happening as Jason learns that Batman got another Robin in Red Hood: Lost Days.

Talia asks "You all right?" and Jason's first answer is "Sure Why Wouldn't I Be Alright?"

When he's alone he finally has the moment to break down.

(Actually both Red Hood: The lost days and Batman: Under the Red Hood are great case studies on how that usually play out on Jason's head.)

Jason is way more in control of his emotions than people ever give him credit for. The thing is that Jason holds it back until he either blows off or is capable to throw it back in someone's face.

#I didn't finish not even half of my thoughts in here but I'm going to publish it before it gets drag in my 182828383 drafts #if you disagree lets fist fight at six am #jason todd #q rambles #character study #writing Jason Todd #← this is not a guide this is literally the tag I use to organize things #q screams at the void #q rants

[jarro-stan-account]

I think Bruce would start wearing his children’s merch and it would backfire horribly

He buys a whole shipment of shirts, mugs, bags, etc because he loves his kids and he’s so proud of them it hurts.

The day after it arrives, the manor dissolves into a cold war. Long held alliances snap in half, and tentative truces break down. Damian is staring hatefully at Dick. Jason’s glaring at Tim like he wants to recreate Titans Tower. Bruce has no idea what set them off.

After a week of this, Bruce is at his wit’s end. None of his kids will talk to him, so he goes to the bat computer for some well intentioned stalking. Except- what’s this? There’s an unnamed file, hidden in the depths of the computer. Bruce, having great respect for privacy and personal space, immediately starts to crack it. It’s- a spreadsheet.

The two categories are his children’s names and the type of merch (hat, pin, fridge magnet, etc). With a grim and dawning horror, Bruce realizes that his children are keeping track of how many times he wears/uses their merch and is using it as a favoritism competition. There’s a hot debate about if the yellow bat symbol should belong to batgirl or to black bat. Murder threats are sprinkled liberally in the annotations.

So Bruce comes up with a plan- he’ll create his own spreadsheet that cross-references with his calendar to ensure that he wears/uses everyone’s merch equally. No favoritism accusations if it’s a rotating schedule, right?

Bruce is too tired to change before flopping into bed one night, and comes downstairs wearing the same shirt. The breakfast table explodes.

Bruce gives up and goes back to wearing Superman merch.

#dc universe #batfamily #batman #bruce wayne #batfam #superman #clark kent #superbat #Just a tad

[redeyye]

(with a wholly negative view of this movie) im not going to post about the whale im not going to post about the whale im not g

#this post is not an invitation for debate. im a fat person venting my frustrations. i don't care what you have to say abt it even if youre #also a fat person. anyway #im not going to watch it + its not good + i dont really care about brendan fraser #i know theres a chorus of brendan fraser fans waiting to cheer him on and one million thin neoliberals who will #pat themselves on the back for pretending to care about fat people for 2 hours #but like. that does not a good movie make. it just seems really disrespectful. ive read the positive articles and the directors defense #and i gotta say i still think its not a step forward in fat liberation. its a sidestep at best. #i like that its about a fat main character with a real personality right #but im not loving the fact that they chose fraser instead of a fat actor. i know there are so many fat actors looking for jobs #who could have been in this movie. but i wonder if it wasnt a 'fat people didnt want to be in this movie because of the gratuitous #voyeuristic objectifying fatshaming shots. thats fine we can do better than fat people anyway!' type thing. #also the people defending the title like 'noooo its not referring to the guy its about moby dick!!!' like sure but you have to understand #that its STILL leaning into the fatshaming nature of the phrase. like. theres a funny literary term called 'ambiguity' you should #look into it sometime. like yes it is about moby dick. AND you're obviously supposed to immediately think 'oh the fat guy is the whale' #and that's still pretty. hm. fucked up and shitty. #these tags are so long AUGH. i could post this on medium and become a world renowned movie critic /j #disclaimer tho im sure brendan fraser is great i just... dont know much about him. i don't really judge him for doing this movie? #but it has definitely influenced me to care abt him less.

[strawberrysturniolo]

DEALER CHRIS WITH BENEFITS EATING SEX CHOCOLATE FIC!!!!

lets trip // dealer!chris

summary: your dealer comes over to smoke, and when you get the munchies, you discover a stash of sex chocolates. oral (male receiving). breeding kink. high sex. dominant chris. friends with benefits.

I’ve been buying weed from him for months now. He was only ever supposed to be my plug, nothing more. I didn’t even think we were capable of being friends above the simple conversations we had over transactions.

It’s not up for debate that this guy is hot as shit. Everyone knows it. He’s known in town for being everyone’s favorite dealer. The guys think he’s cool, and the girls are obsessed with him. I think some girls started smoking just so they could be with him at some point. Some probably expected to take it to the next level and fuck him. That wasn’t my plan at all, but somehow, here I am.

I found about him through my friend. Her boyfriend bought from him, and they helped me connect to Chris when things got hard and I decided to start smoking.

We hit it off from the jump. I was highly attracted to him, but we just seemed to connect in certain ways that I wasn’t expecting.

He just… understood me. He started taking care in me that I don’t think he was planning on developing either. He started watching how much I was buying, questioning my safety, my mental health, everything.

When he first started getting flirty, I didn’t think anything of it. I assumed that’s how he was with every female customer. I thought that was his way of marketing to them and ensuring they would come back to see him. He wants to make money more than he wants to have sex with his customers, shockingly.

He’s a good guy. He’s a little misunderstood. He definitely has a soft spot underneath the metal plates that protect his body.

Me:

out of weed. can i buy some off you?

hot dealer:

Out on deals rn. Won’t get back until late. I can come when I finish if you want. How bad are you out?

Me:

just ran out

hot dealer:

Just? And your already asking for more? Bad girl. Drugs are bad. Unless this is your excuse for me to come see you.

Me:

maybe both. come find out for yourself

hot dealer:

Be there in an hour.

The next hour moved by painfully slow. This is either because I’m waiting to see Chris, or because I’m waiting for weed.

Chris and I have had sex a few times. It’s always great. I’m always left wondering if we should continue or if it’s time to call it quits and stick to our dealer to customer relationship.

I feel sick at the idea of losing him like that.

My apartment door opens two hours later, a voice following.

“Munchkin?” Chris calls out. “Where you at?”

I walk out of my bedroom, peeking my head out first. A smile pulls at my lips without even thinking about it. He does that to me. It’s aggravating.

“What happened to an hour? It’s been two,” I enlighten him on his lateness, wrapping my arms around him as I take in the subtle scent of weed on him.

I sink my head into his shoulder, feeling the warmth radiating off his body from his brown hoodie. He pairs it with a pair of camouflage cargo pants and white Air Force sneakers.

“Has it?” he asks me, playing dumb. He lets out a subtle whine before squeezing me closer. “Missed me that bad, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” I roll my eyes, letting go of him. There’s a loss in me when our bodies disconnect. “How was business today?”

He nods, pursing his lips a little as he thinks. “Not bad. Same as usual. Some stupid kids, other people who think they know more than me. It’s nothing new.”

I open my fridge, grabbing a soda for him, the same routine every time he comes over.

“Hey, I don’t wanna sound like a dick,” he says as he cracks his can open. “I’ve been so fucking busy today, I haven’t eaten. I don’t wanna raid your fridge or anything, but have you eaten? Do you wanna get anything?”

I shake my head. “I ate a bit ago while I was studying. I have to get more groceries anyway, so you can eat whatever you want, if you can find anything.”

“Have I ever told you you’re the best ever?” he grins.

My cheeks flush pink. “Ehhhh, maybe once or twice.”

He presses a kiss to my cheek and says, “Well you are.”

He then proceeds to investigate in my pantry, cabinets, and fridge, pulling out a snack for himself.

“How much did you bring?” I ask him, referring to the weed he owes me.

“Three grams,” he responds through chews.

“How much do I owe you this time?”

He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”

I drop my shoulders. “Dude.”

“Don’t fight me on it,” he warns. “You should be glad I’m giving you free weed. Be appreciative.”

“I am appreciative, but I want you to make money.”

He pouts his bottom lip, putting on an act. “That’s so cute you want me to make moneyyyyyy,” he draws out, then relaxes his face to its usual state. “That’s why I fuck with these dumbasses and over charge them. I overcharge the stupid, Munchkin gets free weed,” he explains.

I’m halfway through an eye roll when he says, “You ever tried this shit?” He lets out a little moan at the taste. “If you catch it in your mouth I’ll give you a kiss.”

Without thinking twice, I squat my legs a bit and open my mouth. Chris sends a piece of chocolate through the air, and I catch it on my tongue.

“Atta girl,” he praises. “Good catch.”

“Mmm,” I hum as the taste fills my mouth. “I think this is my roommates chocolate.”

Chris lets out a little wince. “Shit, my bad.”

“No, it’s fine. Like I said, I have to run to the store to get stuff anyway, so I’ll just get her some more. What’s the brand?”

Chris flips the box around to read the label. “Hmm. Good Relations. Kind of a strange chocolate brand. Why didn’t she just get Hershey’s or something?”

Our eyes snap to each others at the same time.

“What’d you say?!” I ask, running over to grab the box from him.

“Why does your roommate leave her sex chocolate in the pantry! Tell her to put the freaky shit in the bedroom!”

“Why are you eating shit without checking labels!”

“I didn’t know it was a sex candy factory in here!” he defends.

“Give me the box.” He tosses the package to me, and I scan the text on the back. “It says it starts working in 20-40 minutes…”

Chris pumps his fist through the air. “SCORE! I’m getting laid and I had some good chocolate.”

“I was just reading the box, you freak!”

Chris lowers his eyebrows at me. “Don’t act like you weren’t expecting me to come over and fuck you after you got your weed.”

I mumble a, “Shut up,” before putting the chocolates back in the pantry.

“So… are we gonna fight the temptation… or are we gonna fuck?”

“Give me my weed and then I’ll think about it.”

Chris frowns as he digs a hand into the pocket of his pants. “So demanding,” he says as he pulls out a bag with a few green trees inside.

“Thank you,” I smile, giving him a quick kiss on his lips before walking to my room.

He groans. “That’s all I get!”

“For now, yeah!” I call back to him over my shoulder. “Come smoke this with me and we’ll see if you get lucky.”

Chris follows me into my room, sitting down in a comfy chair in my room. His ass has imprinted into the material with how much time he spends there.

“Want me to roll for you?” he asks, peeking at me as I grab my essentials.

“Mhm,” I hum, fishing through my drawer. “You do it tighter.”

“Mmm,” he responds, sitting up a bit in the chair. He waits for me to walk back over then says, “Yeah, you know I like my shit tight,” and adds a slap to my ass, grabbing it harshly after.

I pass him a rolling tray along with some paper, watching his every move. I can do this easily, but there’s something so sexy about the way Chris does this. The focus on his face, his scrunched eyebrows, his lip poking out of his mouth, resting over his bottom lip.

His eyes are already bright red, the most beautiful blue shade complimenting them. His beard is almost clean shaven, a light beard growing in, but nothing major.

“You hear me?” he asks, his voice snapping me out of whatever trance I was put in.

“Huh?”

“I said I need a lighter,” he repeats. God knows how many times he’s said it and I wasn’t listening.

“Sorry,” I mumble, tossing him the lighter.

He rests the lighter on his thigh, then presses this thumb to my lips. “Open.”

I do as he says, sucking on his thumb for a moment. He pulls it back out and uses my saliva to seal the joint shut.

He holds the joint up the my lips, and I take it between them, letting him light the end for me.

“So obedient, aren’t you?” he asks me in a low voice.

I say nothing, only nodding as I inhale the smoke entering my mouth.

Maybe it’s the chocolate, or maybe it’s the fact that he knows exactly what to say to get me wound up.

Before I can let the smoke out, his hand grips my jaw, pulling me down to him and attaching our lips. As my mouth parts open, the smoke dances between our mouths, entering his. He sucks in a breath and smiles.

“Tastes even better from your mouth,” he whispers, pressing his lips to my chin, then under my jaw.

I hold the joint front of his face, letting him grab it with his mouth and take it between his fingers next.

“Thank you for my weed,” I whisper, watching him in a daze.

He slouches in the chair, spreading his legs in front of me. “Wanna show me how thankful you are?”

He raises his eyebrows as he tags another drag of the joint, and before I can think twice about it, I’m on my knees, unbuttoning his pants.

“Eager, aren’t you?” he teases. I ignore him and pull his pants down around his knees, bringing his underwear with it.

I don’t know what magic is in those chocolates, but in all the times I’ve seen this man’s dick, it’s clear that it’s different now. He looks bigger, like he’s throbbing so much that his dick had no option but to expand slightly. He’s thick, dark veins decorating the length, while his beet red tip leaks of precum. I swallow at the sight, taking him in.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” he reminds me, but still, this feels different.

“You look so good,” I groan, touching his tip and spreading the precum.

He flinched just at that touch, like it’s already sending him close to the edge. “You wanna make me feel good?” he breathes out.

I nod, spitting a line of saliva down to his dick, spreading it over his length as I lick the other side.

“Oh god,” he sighs. He takes the joint back into his mouth, chasing two highs.

He holds the joint between two fingers, his head tossed back over the top of the chair.

I suck tightly over his tip, his hips bucking up, making me take more of him. His hands hold the back of my head in a messy make-shift ponytail, his jaw slack as I suck more of him. My head starts to bob at a reasonable rhythm, his moans becoming uncontrollable.

“Fuck, that’s it baby,” he smiles lazily. “Such a good girl- Fuck.”

His hips start to meet me halfway, thrusting lightly until his tip hits the back of my throat. I let him do that a few times before a soft gag leaves my mouth, and I take myself off of him, breathing heavily. A line of spit connects my lips and his dick.

“Too much?” he asks, wiping the tears starting to drip down my cheekbones from the pressure in my throat.

“I’m okay,” I nod. “Promise.”

“You’re doing so well. Just keep doing what you’re doing. That chocolate… I can’t hold off much longer.”

I drop my head lower, sucking his balls. He shouts out a string of profanities as his head flies backwards, the hand in my hair tightening. His teeth are clenched together, and he squeezes the joint so tight that it’s nearly flattened.

I spit on his tip again, making sure he’s fully coated before I start sucking his tip again, dropping my mouth halfway down his length and bobbing it back up and down. I stroke the rest of him with one hand while I massage his balls with my other. The sound is insane, the wetness of my mouth on his dick, and the gagging as I take him as deep as I can in my throat. Not to mention his moans that are almost screams of pleasure at this point.

“Fuck!” he yells, gripping the side of the chair as he lets his release fill my mouth. “Shit, shit, shit, ohhhhhh god, baby. Yeah that’s it, take my fucking cock.”

My eyes are full, watering as he forcefully shoved his dick into my throat. I pull off of him slowly with a popping sound before I sit up, smiling at him.

“You’re insane,” he pants, smiling at me as I stand up. He slaps my ass harshly, pulling me closer to him after. He slaps both cheeks again and pulls me down to sit on his lap. He grabs my jaw and kisses me, a sloppy and wet kiss that just shows each other how badly we need more. As soon as I sit myself on his dick, I start grinding on him without a care of my rhythm. I just need a relief.

He reads my mind, wrapping his hands under my ass and scoops me into his arms. He leads us to my bed, tossing me down before he steps out of his underwear and pants, kicking them across the floor. He yanks his sweatshirt off, leaving on a tight black shirt. His hands trace my legs as he strips me of my own clothing, leaving my dripping pussy in his sight as he lowers himself between my thighs.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he says. He places his palm against my folds, feeling how wet I am. “Aw, poor girl. Need my dick in between there, don’t you?”

I nod, whimpering as the slightest touch to my clit has my entire body on fire. I’ve never felt so horny in my life, and I could kill him for not putting his fingers in me soon enough.

“Let me hear your pretty voice, then I’ll give you whatever you want,” he rationalizes, and considering how desperate I am right now, I’ll do anything he wants.

“Please, Chris,” I whine. “Please, please, anything. Just touch me.”

“Mmmm,” he smiles, dragging his plump lips over my clit until I shudder. “Let me hear that pretty voice again.”

Just as the words leave his mouth, he suctions his lips over my clit, pulling upwards and releasing it before spitting back on it. His fingers rub quickly over the bud, his eyes locked on mine.

I grip his arm, my fingers digging into his skin. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel. Tell me how badly you need to be fucked by me.”

“So bad-“

He makes me wince as his hand slaps over my clit.

“Full sentences or you get nothing,” he says through gritted teeth.

“You’re making me feel so good, Chris,” I correct myself. “I want you so- Need you to fuck me.”

“That’s a good girl,” he mumbles, pushing two fingers inside as he pushes my shirt up my chest with the other hand, instructing me to take it off. I peel the fabric over my head, discarding it to the floor. “So wet around my fingers.”

He removes them just after, a cry of desperation leaving my mouth. He sucks he’s fingers clean, then strokes his cock, his chin pressed to his chest and he stares down at himself. He leans forward, slapping his dick against my clit. My legs shake with every hit.

The tip of his dick finds my cunt, and he slips in so easily, like he was made for me. Like he was supposed to fill me up. He wraps one of my legs around his waist as he situates himself, then wraps my other leg around him, burying himself as deep as he could go.

He spit onto his thumb, pressing it onto my clit as he created friction just where I needed him, continuing to thrust himself inside of me.

“That’s it, take it baby. Take it.”

My heels dig into his back, pulling him closer, if it’s possible. His head buries into my neck, removing his fingers from my clit and replacing his hand with the movement of his pelvis, grinding it into me.

As my hands reach up to his back, trying to hold onto him, he grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head.

His breath hits my face as he locks his eyes on mine. He watches every move I make. Every moan that leaves my mouth, he’s right there to inhale it.

“Chris,” I groan, feeling myself tighten around him.

A low moan pulls from deep in his throat. “Just like that baby, I’m gonna cum in you.”

I nod, squeezing his cock with my pussy, watching as his face unfolds with pleasure.

“I’m gonna put a baby in you,” he says. “You’d like that, huh?”

I nod furiously.

“I’m gonna cum in you,” he says. “Watch it all drip out of this perfect pussy. Then I’m gonna pump my fingers in you and force it to stay inside of you.”

“Please,” I whine.

He locks one hand around both my wrists, using his free hand to grip my jaw. “Watch my face when I cum in you.”

Seconds later, his hips thrust at a rapid rate before stilling inside of me as he pumps his cum inside. His slacked jaw causes our lips to brush against each other.

As he pulls out, the last brush of our hips forces my orgasm out of me, my cum dripping out of my pussy along with his.

“Aht aht aht,” he tsks. He takes three fingers and pushes them into me. “Told you to keep this shit inside of you.”

I nod weakly. “I’m sorry.”

He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Mhm.” He lays on his stomach next to me, breathing out a laugh. “We should snoop through her snacks more often.”

Yeah, we fucking should.

tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilolo @jellybeanbby @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @1201pm-blog @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts @sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @ratatioulle @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #strawberrysturniolo

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave boy Danny starts talking about one of the debates Tucker and Sam without mentioning their names when asked who the two are,Danny panics again and says that Sam is Selina since that's not that big of a jump when he starts saying her name

"One of my best friends would agree with you." Brucie suddenly speaks up one night at Dinner when Damian rants about his school not offering enough Vegetarian options. "She is an ultra-recyclo-vegetarian."

Bruce blinks having never heard the term before. A quick glance around the table tells him that neither have the others. Must be slang from his universe then. "What does that mean?"

"She doesn't eat anything with a face," Brucie explains. The curve of his lips has the tiniest amount of bestowed fondness that could only come from infatuation. Oh, Brucie is sweet on the girl. Bruce feels mildly alarmed as all his kids and Alfred sits up in interest when spotting it.

Unaware of what he just unwillingly gave away Brucie continues "Not to be confused with being a vegan because she will eat bread and cheese, but not often. She gets real mad when people mislabel her."

Dick grins, leaning over his forgotten dinner to pin Brucie under an eager stare. "I bet. Mislabeling is the worst."

"It is!" Brucie agrees, seemingly satisfied that someone else feels the same. "Especially when getting her to like you is like trying to get a cat's approval. But it's totes worth it when you do. No one has your back better than her."

A....cat's loyalty? Oh no. Surely it couldn't be-?

"What's your best friend's name?" Steph speaks up asking what's on everyone's mind. They all lean in a little closer as Brucie mindlessly gathers some rice on his fork.

"Her name is Sa-" Brucie takes a bite of his rice before swallowing. It takes everything in him not to quote Alfred and scold him for speaking with his mouth full. How Brucie grew up with such manners, Bruce would never know. "Selina! Her name is Selina."

Oh.

It seemed even in another world Bruce's heart would fall into Selina Kyle's hands.

His kids all but burst into cheers. Even Jason, and that was very hard to accomplish in the last few years.

"I knew it! I knew it!"

"Of course, it's Selina! Who else could it have been?"

"I suppose Kyle is not too horrid a partner for Father."

Duke and Cass high-five while Alfred seems to be glowing in parental pride as the other kids chat about his on-and-off girlfriend again. If a civilian version of himself still fell for her, Bruce could convince his Selina to quit the crime life and be his permanently.

Brucie stares a comprehensive eye around the table, so Bruce takes pity on him.

"I have a Selina as well. My kids....enjoy her company." He says, watching blue eyes swing at him as tiny black bangs fall slightly over them. It's adorable, and he finally understands why he had so many admirers. He bets civilian Brucie breaks just as many, if not more, hearts than he did at that age. "How long have you known Selina for?"

"Um...since she moved to my school when we were ten, so about four years, give or take?" Brucie shrugs, a slight blush overtaking his face. "She's great."

Oh, Bruce bet she is.

"Wait." Tim suddenly speaks up, eyes narrow in mistrust. Bruce had noticed before that the second youngest was suspicious of their dimensional visitor. He had been meaning to pull him aside to talk about it. "You said one of your best friends. Who is the other?"

"...Ethan. My other best friend is Ethan," Brucie says after a moment. He must mean Ethan Bennett. Bruce thinks wistfully of the old days when he would play basketball with his dear friend before he was lost in Clayface.

But why did Brucie pause on Ethan's name like that? It almost seemed like he was very carefully selecting that name or was trying to control his facial reaction to it.

A familiar blush bloomed over Brucie's checks and- oh. The boy had spoken about wishing he was from a world where bisexuality was more common, didn't he?

It would make sense. It's not like Ethan hadn't crossed his mind once or twice when Bruce was a teenager, either.

Tim's eyes narrow further. "I don't believe you."

"And I believe you can't stand the sight of your reflection because you're convinced no one will ever want it either." Brucie cheerfully chirps back before closing his eyes and sighing as if tired. He slumps in his chair, leaning his head against the headrest. "Sorry, that was mean. I'm trying to be less mean."

Bruce frowns at him, aware of Tim's eyes going glossy to his right but his son doesn't seem to want to step away. All conversation stops as they glare daggers at Brucie. Dick especially seems the most upset. "That was uncool Brucie"

"Yeah, sorry force of habit. My older sister and I-"

"Your what?" Bruce cuts him off, wondering if he heard right.

"My older sister?"

"You have a sister?"

"Yeah, don't you?"

"No," Bruce whispers. "No, I don't. I'm an only child."

"Oh. I'm the second youngest. I have an older sister, an older brother, and a younger sister." Brucie turns over to Tim to offer a sincere apology that the other gracious takes, but Bruce can't hear him over the sound of blood rushing between his ears.

"Mother and Father had more children?"

"Kind of." Brucie's face twists slightly in consideration. "Tommy and Harley are adopted. They are technically cousins since they were made by my uncle Vlad. Kate.....my older sister Kate, is my aunt Alicia's bio-kid but she was raised by my parents since she was one since Aunt Alicia wasn't...in the best mental state to care for her. No hard feelings are between them."

"Tommy, as in Tommy Elliot?!" Dick gasps, springing to his feet. "He is your adoptive older brother!?"

Brucie appears startled by his reaction, but he nods all the same. Bruce feels dread sink into his stomach.

"He's evil!" Dick shouts.

"I know." Brucie shrugs, uncaring. "Tommy has some issues, and he had them since he was...fourteen, but he's not dangerous.."

"Did you all miss that he said Harley is his younger sister? Harley as in Harleen Quinzel?" Jason cuts in, twisting to pin Brucie with a hard stare. "That's her real name, isn't it?"

"Well, her real name is Harleen Wayne, but she prefers Harley," Bruice says carefully. "Why? Do you know her?"

"She's evil too!" Dick gasps. "Brucie, you're in terrible danger with those two around!"

"Nah, Kate will stop them." Brucie waves his hand. "Sides Tommy and Harley are always traveling. Neither are home much these days."

Bruce feels a headache growing behind his eyes as Dick desperately tries to explain what happens to Brucie's adoptive siblings in their world. At the same time, his counterpart argues on his sibling's behalf.

(No one knows about the electric candles disappearing from the dinner table as the house descends into madness, trying to make the dimension travel realize his danger. Even fewer are aware of Danny's silent apology to Sam, Tucker, Jazz, Dan, or Dani for butchering their names and somehow still connecting them to someone in this world.)

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #cave boy #Part 5 #everlasting trio #Danny has a crush on his best friends #Bruce is having a heart attack #Yes Danny did feel bad about his knee reaction #Tim forgot already once he found out about Danny's adoptive sibs #Deeper and Deeper the hole has become #misunderstanding #Danny once again picked random names and they somehow all fit

[hyperfixatedbastard]

one must grab the titty

Soft!Adam x AFAB!Reader

It's no surprise that Adam's big on physical touch, but you expected it to be - well, sexual. Turns out that this clingy, hypersexual douchebag actually likes innocent, nonsexual intimacy. Like holding your boobs just 'cause they're nice to hold.

Word Count: 926

WARNINGS: SFW (I think?), AFAB!Reader with gender neutral pronouns, mentions of sex, no sexual content, nonsexual intimacy

A/N: I kinda hate this but I'm tired of working on it, so here ya go! Apologies if you have no tits, but let's be honest, that wouldn't stop this bastard.

Dividers

Adam has some… odd habits, at least by Heavenly standards. Sometimes you wonder just how exactly he’s an angel, but you’ve learned to not question it. He may be a douchebag and an asshole, but he has his moments. He’s sweet with you, at least. You never expected him to be a doting, clingy boyfriend, but he certainly proved you wrong.

No matter where you are or what you’re doing, he’ll have an arm around your waist, or one of his wings loosely wrapped around you. Adam is a possessive guy (after hearing about the whole Lucifer debacle, you can’t really blame him), and he makes it clear with the way he interacts with you in public. And in private, he’s arguably worse—you’re lucky to sit down without him draping an arm over your shoulders to pull you in close, or practically pulling you into his lap. He’d never admit it, but you think he needs the reassurance that you’re still there, that you haven’t left him.

You’re not so sure about that theory once the touches go past cuddling.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

"Adam," you begin in a suspicious tone. "What are you doing?"

The angel in question blinks back at you owlishly. His mask and robes have been traded out for some sweatpants and a t-shirt that reads ‘I Got ADHD’ with the subtitle ‘A Damn Hard Dick.’ The two of you are cuddling on the couch in your shared apartment, with some shitty action movie playing on the TV as you sit wrapped up in his arms and wings with your back to his chest (you didn’t think that action movies would be allowed in Heaven considering the murder and whatnot, but once again, you don’t question it).

"Hm?" he hums innocently. "I'm watching the fuckin' movie, babe."

You glance down to where his hand is shamelessly groping your boob over your shirt. You debate whether or not to even confront him about it, considering he isn't actually doing anything other than just holding your tit, but you ask anyways.

"Why is your hand on my boob, then?" you prompt, your eyes shifting between his face and where his hand is idly groping your chest.

Adam chuckles and breaks out into a smug grin. "What? Can't a guy hold his partner's tits?" He gently squeezes your boob for emphasis.

Your face heats up at that, and your eyes narrow in confusion. "Why do you want to?" 

"Uh, because they're fucking great," he answers incredulously, like you're the weird one here. He then brings his free hand up to hold your other boob. He gives them both a gentle squeeze, but doesn't do anything more than that. The lack of a sexual innuendo, joke, or proposition doesn’t make sense to you—it feels out of character for Adam, even after learning about his love of cuddling.

You just look at him, confused. Sure, you've always known that he's a boob guy, but this doesn't strike you as Adam's usual horny antics. But if it’s not sexual (which you still find hard to believe), what the fuck is it? 

He seems to realize that his original explanation isn’t good enough. "Look, hot stuff, boobs are just nice to fuckin' hold, y'know? All soft n' squishy n' shit."

You raise a brow at that. It’s a fair point, you suppose. "So, what, my tits are like stress balls for you?"

Adam laughs—not that loud, boisterous laugh he does when pranking some poor soul, but that more genuine, softer one few people ever got to hear. "Yeah, pretty fuckin' much, babe. They're comforting!"

You roll your eyes at him, albeit fondly, as a smile pulled at your lips. "Whatever works for you, I guess."

His smirk grows, and he squeezes your boobs a little firmer this time. "Oh, these beauties are fucking workin' for me, sweet cheeks."

You scoff, albeit lightheartedly, and swat at his shoulder. "Shut up and watch your damn movie."

Adam doesn’t respond, but he pulls you a little closer and gives your tits one last good squeeze before returning his attention to the TV—for the most part, at least. His hands don’t leave your chest, but they don’t really do much either. They’re just resting there, occasionally groping or giving a light squeeze. Damn, this really isn’t a sex thing for him, is it?

You’d already been shocked when you’d first realized how clingy Adam is. You were even more surprised to discover that he’s a fan of nonsexual intimacy in general, like cuddling and hugging without it leading to something more. And here he is, surprising you once again by doing something that should surely be sexual in his mind, yet treating it casually and barely even making sex jokes about it. 

A few more minutes into the movie, you can’t hide your curiosity anymore. “This really isn’t a sexual thing for you?”

Adam’s eyebrows raise, and he looks puzzled at your question before breaking out into a smirk. “Why, do you want it to be?”

You scoff and shake your head. “No, I’m just… surprised, is all.”

“Hey! I can appreciate some nice boobs without it being sexual,” he protests, and he sounds at least partially serious.

“Okay, okay, I believe you,” you assure him with a soft laugh. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

“Good, ‘cause I fuckin' like this,” Adam remarks, once again squeezing your boobs for emphasis. You just fondly roll your eyes at him and go back to watching the movie.

Having a clingy boyfriend is pretty nice, actually.

Taglist: @3sire-777

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x you #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel oneshots

[emilybeemartin]

A whopping, like, 2.6 people have expressed interest in my recent adventures in watching Bean films, which is all the encouragement I need to present to you:

An Incomplete Guide to Sean Bean Roles (Investigation Ongoing)

Our guy has a vast filmography, and I'm not even close to being halfway through it, but I've watched a lot of his significant ones in the past few weeks thanks to a perfect storm of illness, injury, and lapses in client work. Crucially, I have created superlatives for a variety of them and present them here for your benefit. Disclaimer: many of these films are violent! Or have butts and/or tits! Some have dick! Some have dated bits that didn't age well! So, if you have triggers or are watching with young viewers, do your research first! Also, these are just the opinions of one solitary millennial! Nothing is objective! Nothing is real! I care not!

Okay, CYA done, let's begin. I'll get the two most obvious ones out of the way up front, otherwise they'll dominate half the categories:

ACT I

Greatest Bean: Fellowship of the Ring. I've said it before and I'll say it again, he achieved more pathos with Boromir than a lot of his other roles have allowed for, and every note he hits just sings. No debate.

Best Bean for Your Buck: Sharpe. For the best confluence of quantity, quality, physicality, emotion, humor, and action, you can't beat Richard Sharpe.

Favorite Dramatic Bean: Time; he earned that BAFTA fr

Softest Bean: The first date scene in Stormy Monday, where Brendan shyly gets to know Kate, slow dances with her, lends her a shirt and strokes her back after she asks if they can just go to sleep instead of have sex.

Most Dashing Bean: Vronsky in Anna Karenina, that uniform cuts, damn

Swooniest Bean: I know I'm supposed to say Chatterley, and he is undeniably sexy as Mellors, but there are parts where his character is actually kind of off-putting. I'll lay a good chunk of the blame on the weirdly ominous score, the very of-the-time depiction of dubious consent, and Joely Richardson's tendency to look like she's having the worst time of her life while shagging the hot gamekeeper. No, I'm giving this category to Stormy Monday again. He's just so gentle and genuine in this one, without some of the obligatory "heartthrob" overtones of his nineties stuff. He never raises his voice at Kate or manhandles her. He really does feel like some kid who just wants to be sweet to his girlfriend.

Laddiest Bean: When Saturday Comes, specifically the strip club and bathtub scenes.

Favorite Sad Bean: As a collective, he has some great grief scenes in World on Fire, but! The railroad track scene in When Saturday Comes?! That was RAW.

Favorite Mad Bean: Black Death; there are plenty of movies where he doesn't smile at all, but unlike some others, his grimness and anger felt proportionate to the story, rather than just rage because he's good at rage.

Favorite Bad Bean: There are so many great Bean villains (Goldeneye, obvs), but I think my favorite is Patriot Games. Bonus points for all the different hairstyles he has in this film (long locks-shag-shag ponytail!-buzz-wet spiky buzz). Also HUGH FRASER AAAA

Favorite Dad Bean: Wolfwalkers, where Bill Goodfellowe literally turns his own convictions and beliefs upside-down in order to protect and support his daughter.

INTERMISSION

A note on GoT: I haven't watched it. When season one was first coming out, it was during a time where I really couldn't handle watching any kind of sexual assault onscreen, and while I have a higher tolerance now, I just... don't want to. I like seeing gifs of Ned Stark and appreciate that it's one of his great roles, but I just can't make myself take the plunge.

ilysm you grizzled dead wolf man

ACT II

Favorite Costumed Bean: Odysseus in Troy: curls, leather, thighs.

Favorite Un-Costumed Bean: He strips in quite a lot of his films, so let's give it to Lady Chatterley for sheer screentime, exertion, and the bonus of being naked and wearing a flower crown. Honorable mention to When Saturday Comes for the totally not homoerotic amount of butts and also dick in the locker room bathtub scene.

Hurtin'est Bean: Bravo Two Zero. Oof, don't watch this one if you have an aversion to seeing pain, although---you're a Sean Bean fan, and we all know one of his MOs is being GREAT at pain. This one was directed by Tom Clegg, who directed Sharpe. Also lol at the sickle-shaped wound on his shoulder, which is covering his 100% Blade tattoo (he gets a lot of sickle-shaped wounds on his left shoulder).

Best Inside References: The Frankenstein Chronicles, where he plays a former Peninsular soldier, and every reference to his service is a reference to Sharpe, including shots of his greenjacket, pistol, sword, and flogging scars. Honorable mention to The Martian for the Council of Elrond line.

Most Unsettling Bean: Cleanskin for moral grayness, The Frankenstein Chronicles for body horror

Most Inefficient Use of Bean: Black Beauty. Despite getting high billing he's only onscreen for about two minutes and I'm convinced the long shots are a body double. Criminal.

Biggest Missed Opportunity: We were robbed of a Sean Bean Odyssey. R o b b e d

Funniest Bean: Deploying Bean for comedy is woefully underused, but he made full use of his ~15 seconds in The Vicar of Dibley ("Spring" episode). He's also hilarious in Wasted, though I haven't watched the show, only the clips he's in on YouTube, where he plays a mock version of himself serving as a spirit guide for a stoner. IMO, though, Sharpe gives him the most room for humor.

Favorite Character Quirk: In World on Fire, when Douglas is having WWI flashbacks and really coming apart, he kept putting his hand to his mouth. My modern brain first read this as talking into a phantom radio, but of course that wasn't right, and then I realized--he was reaching for a phantom gas mask. CHILLS. AMAZING. (Honorable mentions to the Mouth Rub and the Tongue Thing [pictured above]).

Most Nostalgic Bean: National Treasure. The concept may be utter silliness, but you have to admit, this is a fun movie to watch.

Best Dismount from a Horse: Henry VIII, he goes pshwing out of the saddle

Best Swordplay: You may think there's no possible answer to this, but there is---two moments, specifically: the preparatory sword-spin he does at Balin's tomb just before the goblin attack in Moria, and the four lunges he does at 1:26:22 of Sharpe's Battle. It's just facts.

Prettiest Bean Film: Wolfwalkers, hands downnnn

Favorite Bean Death: All right, you knew we had to eventually end here. It's Boromir, obviously--- nothing tops that. But if we're looking at other roles, I think Patriot Games is my favorite, followed by Goldeneye.

So! That concludes this installment of Bean films, though I'll be continuing the labor, and I hope you will, too. What are your favorites?

#sean bean #fellowship of the ring #lord of the rings #sharpe #stormy monday #lady chatterley #patriot games #world on fire #goldeneye #bravo two zero #troy #wolfwalkers #black death #national treasure #anna karenina #time #gifs #flashing gifs

[whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon]

Time passed, and as things do, things changed.

Magnus had upped security around them immensely. If he wasn't with them, then one of the Thousand Sons certainly was nearby to rush in at the slightest hint of danger. Though they noticed that when they were with one of his gene-sons things felt...rather tense. They were always on alert, and rarely spoke to them unless it was to pass on a message from Magnus or tell them when their husband would be home. Speaking of, they noticed that things started to feel oddly domestic with the daemon primarch.

Before, they never imagined themselves falling into domestic married life. After seeing how most marriages around them seemed to become just two people tolerating each other at the best of times, and most of their relationships ending due to the amount of time they put into their art, the idea of looking forward to someone they bonded their life to coming home and holding them just felt like some distant dream.

But Magnus gave them such a sense of safety, made them feel so loved, that maybe it wasn't a surprise that what was just a marriage that came out of necessity became...an actual marriage. At least, as close to one as the two of them could hope for with the lives they were leading.

So it most likely wasn't a surprise to anyone who knew of the two of them when new life came to be because of them.

Two new lives.

Two little girls who clearly had their father wrapped around their fingers, and were also currently listening intently as he read tales out of an old storybook.

They silently watched this sweet moment from their own little reading nook, no longer paying attention to the one they held in their hands. It always amazed them, watching a daemon primarch of all people be a loving father. He had even told them before the twins came into the world that he would be a far better father than his own, and that the two would never have to go through what they had. And every day, Magnus had proved that.

"Oh uh...Dear? A little help?" Magnus's voice snapped them out of their thoughts, and they couldn't help but chuckle as they realized their oldest had decided that climbing her father suddenly seemed a lot more interesting than the story he was telling, and was currently trying to hang off his arm.

They shut their book and set it down before going to rescue their husband from the terror of a giggling little girl, mentally laughing at the sight of a daemon prince nervously doing his best to stay as still as possible to keep his daughter from falling.

A good husband, a wonderful father, and two wonderful daughters. Whatever horrific things Fulgrim had planned for them could stay in the past. Even if it meant their children would never set foot off this planet, the Artist who had permanently exchanged their brushes for books wouldn't change a single thing. -Artist Anon, who feels we needed a shot of wholesome after the Great Primarch Dick Debate of 2022

.

#magnus the red #no words. just read. #warhammer 40k #wh40crack. #yandere40k. #LMAO @ Great Primarch Dick Debate. It's already been decided that Mount Guillimanjaro wins.

[steddielations]

- nsfw, age gap, rockstar Eddie, drummer steve

Eddie should not be wearing a plug here.

It’s stupid. It’s reckless. But that inner voice that led to decades of being stupid and reckless says it’s fine, it’s just for Eddie. Steve doesn’t have to know, unless he wants to find out.

It really is just for Eddie. It’s more for confidence than kink. It’s a trick he learned back when he was still getting comfortable on stage, back when he could still handle the fast life. Started way back when he was a teenager, dear old dad made sure to turn his talent into cold hard cash.

Now here Eddie is, way too many years of coping with drugs and never any therapy later, retired rockstar doing the whole studio owner mentoring baby rockstars thing. Someone’s gotta keep rock and roll alive so long as Eddie’s still kicking.

So the first thing that comes with years of being stone cold sober is realizing he spent too much time on the road and in the closet, not enough time growing roots so he’d have someone to settle down with when he stopped being so afraid of it.

The second thing is a dick that doesn’t work half the time because maybe if someone told him doing drugs would land him limp-dick at 40, he would’ve stopped sooner. The third thing is that he’s going to die alone with his floppy dick and trust issues.

So with the wild life Eddie lives nowadays, it’s no surprise that a couple smiles and smooth words from a good looking young drummer sent him into a spiral.

Steve’s a session musician, an independent guy that looked good on paper and even better in person. He’s got more heart and grit than the last few ‘frontmans’ Eddie tried to get something real out of. Steve knows it too, the way everyone does at 28.

He’s got the same cockiness in his skills as Eddie, but he knows he’s more than just his skills in a way that Eddie wishes he could’ve known at that age. He’s confident enough to make his own suggestions to Eddie, calls him old fashioned and he’s smooth about it, strikes up debates about music and he’s fucking sassy about it.

Eddie’s gotta be under some kinda spell to be considering Springsteen is one of the greats like Steve insists.

It’s not just because Steve’s younger, there’s always been girls much younger than late 20s trying to get with him for his name, status, money. Bless their hearts, maybe if he was still 20 years deep in the closet. It’s not just because Steve’s a guy either, there’s plenty of young guys now that dare to bat their eyes and call him Daddy and want to get fucked.

No, it’s because Steve’s different. The opposite, even.

Eddie slips up and calls him sweetheart once and it’s like Steve was just waiting to open that door and let every babe and handsome and honey slip out from his lips.

He notices Eddie checking out his biceps as he’s banging away on the drums once and sends him a wink that nearly makes him flatline.

He’s not intimidated to get in Eddie’s space. He has no reason to ever be in the control room, but Eddie doesn’t question it when Steve’s close, leaning over him with a warm hand pressed to the small of his back for one second. Eddie’s so hot faced and flustered that he gets his long hair caught in some of the board switches.

“Fuck, fucking, god damn it,” Eddie curses, tangling it even more trying to yank it free and vowing to chop it all off later.

“It’s alright, here, let's get you sorted out.” Steve’s steady hand closes over Eddie’s, gentle and warm as he eases the lock of hair free. Eddie’s breath lodges in his throat when Steve reaches up, fingers brushing Eddie’s face as he combs through his long silver streaked waves and says, “Don’t ever cut your hair. I love it too much.”

God. Steve makes Eddie feel like he’s a pretty young thing getting moves put on him in the kinda club that he was always too famous, too busy and too afraid to go to at that age.

It can’t be real. Steve can’t be serious. Eddie’s mean. Bitter. He talks shit about everyone and everything. He’s nothing without a guitar. He’s got the prickly rind of daddy issues and doesn’t even have Wayne to make it better anymore. The whole world adoring him all his life only fed his ego. He’s worth millions of dollars and feels like nothing most days. His only real friends are his bandmates that he doesn’t call often enough because they love each other, but they’re sick of each other, being stuck together all those years.

Surely, Steve’s just bored and playing with him. Eddie needs a kick of confidence to deal with it until Steve’s contract ends and he’s done playing with Eddie.

So that’s why Eddie’s got a plug up his ass at the studio. At work, technically.

It helps. It gives him all the inner fire he needs to ignore when he feels Steve’s eyes burning into him, and push his hand through his hair that Steve loves, and sway his hips as Steve’s gaze follows him walking out to the bathroom.

Oh yeah, Eddie’s still got it.

And he has to piss. Really bad. His bladder just ain’t what it used to be and when he’s gotta go, he’s gotta go and for whatever reason, he can’t do it with the plug inside him.

Eddie’s locked in a stall so he doesn’t hesitate to undo his belt and reach inside to pull it out. He holds it while he uses the toilet, so distracted sighing in relief like such an old man that he doesn’t realize how lube-slippery the thing is.

It’s too late. He drops his plug and it rolls out from under the stall just as the bathroom door opens and shuts slowly.

Then Eddie feels both relief and panic when it’s Steve’s voice that asks, “Eddie, did you drop something, honey?”

#no one look at me #little cliffhanger the rest tomorrow i promise #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #subeddieweek #sub eddie week

[sister-lucifer]

The Things That Find You 

Laughing Jack x Male Reader 

Genre: Smut 

Summary: Reader finds an antique Jack-In-The-Box at a yard sale, unaware that by purchasing it they would also be taking home an unwanted guest. 

Content/Warnings: Dubcon elements, horror elements, LJ being a stalker creep (so some non con voyeurism), LJ is just fucking weird in this one, clown fucking shenanigans, big stripey clown dick and also long stripey clown tongue, comically large clown penis, LJ eats ass, LJ is massive so big size difference, tummy bulge, that dick should NOT be able to fit in you but it’s my story i can bend the laws of anatomy however i wish, LJ is very mean in this one and doesn’t really care if he hurts you, some degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is kind of a slut boy (same), there’s a lot of build up but please it’s worth it i prommy (but also feel free to skip to the porn that’s totally fair)

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

A/N: Jack is british just fyi so if you’re like me and you read with accents there you go!

The antique jack-in-the-box was certainly an odd find at a garage sale, but there was no denying that it caught your eye the moment you saw it. It was incredibly ornate, clearly hand painted in all black and white and decorated with balloons and candy, not to mention it was preserved wonderfully for a piece that had, presumably, been stored in an attic for who knows how long. You could run your fingers over the edges and feel every detail of the tediously carved borders. You carefully turned the wooden box over in your hands, looking over the large, carefully painted words on the front:

“Laughing Jack In The Box!”, surrounded by all sorts of patterns and shapes.

Your face immediately lit up. Everything about this box screamed one of a kind. You could already see it sitting on your collectors shelf, safe behind the glass for you to keep and observe. You absolutely had to have it. 

“Excuse me miss?” You called, looking around for the old woman who was running the garage sale. She got up from her lawn chair and made her way over about as fast as you’d expect from one as antique as some of the items currently being sold. 

“Could you tell me about this jack-in-the-box?” You asked, trying to hide your elation. 

“Oh, this old thing…” She began, looking at you over her comically oversized glasses. “It belonged to my great, great grandfather, Isaac, and was handmade by his father. It was given to me as a young girl, and I was keeping it in the hopes I could pass it on to my own children.” 

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the comment, but it seems the woman had no qualms about selling it. 

“Well, it may please you to know that I’m an antique collector,” You explained in an effort to reassure her. “This is a beautiful piece. If you’ll sell it to me, I can promise you it’ll be safe on my shelf.” 

“Oh, I have no worries about that. No one would pick this old thing up unless they knew what they were buying. So, what’s your offer young man?” 

You thought for a few moments, weighing the box in your hands. You didn’t want to completely rip her off, but a one of a kind antique like this could go for thousands in the right place, and you weren’t looking to break the bank for this thing. Besides, who else would possibly buy it if you didn’t? 

You pulled your wallet out and flipped through it, debating with yourself. 

“How about…a clean fifty?” 

And with that, a deal was made. Before you knew it you were proudly walking back to your car with the box tucked under your arm. You placed it carefully in the front passenger seat where you could watch over it, glancing back one last time to the now empty place on the table where the box once sat before driving away. 

Immediately upon getting home you rushed to your room and swung open your shelf, eyes scanning over every row as you tried to find the best place for your newest treasure. It took a bit of rearranging to keep the shelf organized to your liking, but eventually you were able to place the box neatly right in the middle. You carefully closed the glass door and took a few steps back to admire your work. It was absolute perfection, and you couldn’t stop yourself from happily clapping your hands together. You deserved to applaud yourself a bit, after all. 

You flopped down on your bed and grabbed your phone, eager to share your find with anyone who would listen, giddy with excitement. You really couldn’t believe how lucky you were! No one else would ever lay hands on a jack-in-the-box like this one, and now it was all yours. 

As the hours of the afternoon dissolved into the night, you found yourself peeking into your room just about every time you walked past. You smiled wide whenever you saw the pristine box sitting on your shelf. It was especially beautiful when the sun hit it just right and made it shine. Your chest was still swelling with pride even as you climbed into bed for the night, able to peacefully fall asleep knowing that you’d filled another spot on your shelf today. 

Unbeknownst to you, you had just given up the privilege of peaceful sleep. 

That night you had one of the worst, most vivid nightmares you could remember. 

You were standing in your room late at night, and everything seemed deathly silent, as if all the birds and insects that would normally be chirping outside had up and died off. A shiver ran down your spine as you looked around in confusion. You tried to turn on your lamp, but it wouldn’t come on. Trying the light switch yielded the same distressing result. You moved to open the door, but the moment you reached out for the knob it disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. When you turned back, your bedroom window was gone too. Both of your escape routes had dissolved into thin air without so much as a sound. 

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as your eyes slowly wandered to the jack-in-the-box. It was the only object left on your now open collectors shelf, but it seemed to take up so much more space than before. It had captured your gaze in an iron grip, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t look away. A terrible feeling began to bubble in the pit of your stomach, becoming heavier and heavier until you felt as though you may collapse from the weight, but nothing was happening. Something about the box itself felt so…malicious, so threatening, but it was simply sitting dormant on your shelf. 

What were you so scared of? 

That was the question replaying in your mind when you woke with a start, nearly falling out of your bed in your disoriented state. You shot straight up as you fought to catch your breath, taking a look around just to make sure your window and door were still there. Fortunately, they were. It really was just a nightmare. 

A wave of relief washed over you as you slowly laid back down. You took an extra minute to catch your breath, silently scolding yourself for being so easily scared. You turned your head to look out the window, now noticing the very first little shreds of the dawn coming up over the horizon. 

However, you noticed something else as well. Something that set off just a bit of unease in you. 

The glass door of your shelf was open. 

Not wide open, or broken, just slightly cracked as if it hadn’t been closed all the way and was now just barely ajar. You could’ve sworn you shut it all the way, you could even remember hearing the little click.

But we all make mistakes, don’t we?

That seemed enough of an explanation to calm you as you slipped out of bed to close the shelf once more. This time you double checked, just to be sure. When you were satisfied you went back to bed, finding sleep rather easily and this time without incident. 

When you awoke some hours later you couldn’t help but question which parts of the night were a dream and which were reality. The memories of when you had woken up the first time were hazy, not to mention you were still shaken up from the nightmare. You tried to push it out of your mind, though, when you found your shelf securely closed and seemingly untouched. That was really all that mattered. 

It seems you had the green light to go about your day as usual. 

First thing’s first: you need to change out of your nightclothes. The stained band tee and baggy sweats would not cut it for running errands. You decided on something that would be comfortable for the day, but still made you feel confident and happy with yourself. 

As you undressed you couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate yourself in the mirror, standing there in just your boxer briefs. You ran a hand over your sides, turning around halfway as you admired your own figure. It was a silly habit to have, really, but what was it hurting? After all, you were one handsome man. You deserved to be seen. 

You weren’t the only one who thought this, and you certainly weren’t the only one who enjoyed admiring you. 

Completely hidden out of your view, just how he liked, two achromatic pinwheel eyes spun manically behind the shadows of the jack-in-the-box. He only had to lift the box just slightly, so little that you would never notice, and even if you did you would likely brush it off as your imagination. Jack was skilled like that, able to slowly lure his victims into madness in such a way that they wouldn’t notice until it was too late. 

You, though, had caught his attention in a slightly different manner. 

You had piqued his interest the moment you picked up his box, handling it with a curious yet careful manner. For generations he had been packed away in dusty attics and grimy basements and long forgotten storage units, completely disgraced by the family line that was supposed to cherish him. But you had plucked him from that miserable cycle, dusted him off, and placed him carefully on your shelf in a secure little spot where you could see each other every day. 

This was certainly unusual behavior. 

That ache of contempt that he felt for nearly everyone else somehow had yet to creep in. On some level, Jack was just as curious about you has you had been about him, and now he was safe behind the glass to keep and observe you as he saw fit. Human bodies in particular had always been an odd interest of his seeing as they looked so different from his own. Seeing you flaunt yours so proudly with no one else around was honestly a bit amusing. 

He watched silently as you slipped on your day clothes, turning around a couple more times in the mirror and adjusting your outfit a bit before finally deciding you were happy. He didn’t slip back down into his box until he heard your car pulling out of the driveway. 

He sat there with himself for some few hours while you were gone. He had lost any sense of time at this point, used to spending his days alone in his box. Although, this time, there was one reoccurring theme that all his thoughts seemed to circle back to: 

You. 

What made exactly you so interesting, hm? He could venture a vague guess, but something was just…different. His affinity for humans had long since waned to nothing nearly two centuries ago, and yet a small part of it was beginning to stir in him once more. 

It seemed this would require further observation, which was certainly no issue to him. 

You, on the other hand, were blissfully unaware that you were currently sharing your humble abode. There were a few times when the events of the earlier night managed to worm its way back into your mind, but you always managed to push it away. You were simply being silly, that was all. It was a random occurrence with absolutely no significance. 

Yeah, sure, that made enough sense. 

By the time you were unlocking your front door, you had been lucky enough to truly forget about your nightmare. It seemed that you had finally calmed yourself and managed to stay grounded. 

At least you had until you stepped through the door. 

The second you had both feet in the doorway, the nightmare came rushing back in vivid flashes. It felt like your grocery bags were filled with cement, your limbs suddenly going weak. Your entire body had gone stiff, paralyzed with an indescribable sense of anxiety, the feeling that something was terribly, deeply wrong in your home. 

You swept through the whole house and found not a single thing out of place, though every time you turned a corner you were sure you’d see something you didn’t want to.

No smashed in windows, no kicked in doors, nothing taken or broken, no other sign of an intruder. Nothing that would indicate anything out of the ordinary.

Then why was your stomach churning with the same heavy dread you’d felt in the nightmare? 

You wracked your brain as you tried to figure out what could possibly be making you feel so uneasy in your own home, but nothing came to mind. Even as you put away your groceries you were mumbling and muttering to yourself, attempting to fetch any semblance of an explanation. 

Nothing. 

Absolutely nothing. 

Jack was more than happy to watch you spin yourself into a tizzy over his little tricks. He giggled to himself when you paced back and forth where he could see you outside the doorway of your room, proud to see he hadn’t lost his mischievous touch. 

You felt absolutely exhausted by the time you were trudging your way to your room, the subtle thrum of an oncoming headache already threatening to floor you for the rest of the day. You were so drained, in fact, that you had to do a double take to realize that your collector’s shelf had been completely opened. 

Not just creaked open like last time, completely opened. If it had been pushed any farther, the hinges would’ve snapped. 

You stared in disbelief, mouth hanging half open. You couldn’t even will yourself to move. It felt someone had just lit a match to the pile of questions that had been accumulating in the back of your mind. As if on autopilot, you walked over numbly and shut the glass door of the shelf. This time, you triple checked that it was shut. 

Of course, this time you weren’t satisfied with that. 

The first thing you did once you had thrown on sweats and laid down was go to order a lock for the shelf online. You even paid extra to make sure it would be delivered the next day. After all, the last thing you needed was one of your prized possessions falling out and breaking. 

Yes, that was the very normal, rational reason why you needed a lock. 

You sighed with exhaustion as you struggled to get comfortable in your bed, figuring maybe a nap would help you recharge a bit. By some miracle you actually managed to fall asleep, and by another you slept peacefully for a full hour uninterrupted. 

Damn, you needed that. You actually felt better when you woke up, stretching and cracking your back a few times before getting up. 

Suddenly your fearful reaction earlier seemed so silly! Why were you so upset anyways? Because of a bad dream and a dingy old shelf? How stupid. Really, you were lucky you lived alone. If anyone had seen you like that they’d think you were crazy, irrational, completely out of your—

The shelf is open again. 

The fucking shelf is open again, and the box has moved an entire shelf down on its own. 

The box has moved on its own. 

You were suddenly feeling light headed. 

You sat back down on your bed, your head already beginning to ache once more. You were dizzy, confused, struggling to find your bearings in reality. You held your head in your hands as you tried to take a breather. Part of you hoped that if you simply looked away then back up, maybe the problem would fix itself.

No such luck. 

You groaned with frustration, practically stomping over to your shelf. You moved the box back to its original place in a quick and jumpy manner, as if it was burning hot and it would hurt to hold onto it for too long. This time you quadruple checked that it had been closed properly, and even threw a blanket over the shelf to cover it. 

It wasn’t a fix, but it could at least give you some semblance of security. 

“Stupid broken thing…” You muttered to yourself, speed walking out of your room to head to the kitchen where hopefully a snack could distract you. 

Jack was giddy with excitement, unable to stop himself from snickering with smug self-satisfaction. It had been so long since he had someone to play with, and you were so fun to scare it almost felt too easy. 

He would have to play his next cards perfectly, though, if he wanted to keep this up. 

He didn’t mess with you at all the rest of the day, even when he really, really wanted to. You peaked into your room every time you walked by, breathing a sigh of relief when you saw the shelf was exactly as you’d left it every time. 

Maybe, you thought for the umpteenth time, you really were just being irrational. You didn’t even have another nightmare that night, and when you awoke the shelf was still closed with the blanket untouched on top of it. 

When the lock came in that day you wondered for a bit if you really needed it, but ultimately decided it was better to be over-prepared than under. You could finally remove the blanket cover on the shelf, feeling much better now that you could properly shut and lock it. You stored the key away in the drawer of your nightstand where you knew it would be safe. 

For you, it seemed like everything was finally back to normal again. 

For Jack, this was the perfect opportunity to increase his antics tenfold. He was becoming more and more impatient, wanting to badly to properly greet you, and with each scare he only felt himself grow stronger. He was feeding on your anguish, allowing it to fuel him until eventually he would be ready to come out and play. 

For the next few weeks, Jack made you sure you found absolutely no peace. He was relentless and cruel, even by his standards. He broke your stupid little lock, and the two others you ordered after that. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d made you shut the glass door to the shelf again. Whenever you tried to cover him with the blanket, he let you know he was particularly upset with you by not only swinging the shelf door wide open, but moving his box right to your bedside table. That way, he got to see your terror up close when you jolted awake, nearly tripping over yourself to get away when you saw the box a mere couple of feet from your face. He made the house creak and jump every time you got a moment of quiet. Hell, he was petty enough to mess with the thermostat when you were out, meaning you got to return home to a freezing cold or blistering heat that was surely running up your bill. Speaking of running up your bills, it wasn’t unusual for Jack to leave the water running either. 

The thing that got to you the most, though, was the incessant nightmares.

God, they never stopped. 

They were almost all the same: 

You’d be trapped somewhere familiar, like your room or a store you’d been at that day. You’d be completely alone and no lights would work, and when you tried to leave all the doors and windows would disappear. And every time, every goddamn time, that jack-in-the-box would be sitting there to greet you when you turned around. That was by far the worst part. Just looking at it would make you weak and nauseous, but you always woke up just before you’d collapse. Whenever you awoke from your nightmares you tried to take comfort in the sunrise beginning to slowly come up over the horizon, but deep down you knew the daylight could no longer save you. 

Each day you woke up more exhausted than the last, too tired to go anywhere but not able to stand being in your house with whatever entity was making your life hell. 

On the contrary, Jack was merely becoming more and more energetic every day. He hadn’t felt this eager in a long, long time. He was even feeling a bit bold, working up the courage once or twice to open the shelf while you were in the room. That scared you the most, making you jump with fear and scramble out of the room as fast as you could. 

He knew you didn’t really have anywhere else to go. You could leave for the day, sure, but sooner or later you’d have to come back home. The stars must’ve aligned for him to find you, the perfect little plaything that could never really escape and gave him endless entertainment. You were certainly a funny one. 

Although, there were times he enjoyed simply watching you just as much as tormenting you. 

Countless times he’d find himself occupied with quietly observing you as if you were a completely foreign creature. He’d peak out of his box to watch you toss and turn at night, to watch you dress in the morning, and he even got to see you walk back from your showers a few times. You looked so soft, even from this far away, with so many places for him to grab and squeeze and wrap his massive claws around. 

It was shameful, really. Or it should’ve been at least. Jack didn’t know the meaning of the word. All he knew was that the urge to reach out and grab you in his claws was growing stronger, and fast. His already minimal patience was beginning to thin, and he knew that soon it would run out completely. Watching you from afar wouldn’t be enough. 

But that was okay. 

He was finally ready to properly greet you, and he knew exactly how he’d do it. 

That night you experienced one of the usual terrors, but this time you couldn’t recognize the room. It looked to be the bedroom of a victorian mansion with tall wooden walls decorated with dusty paintings that seemed to go up forever, closing you in on all sides. A child’s toys were scattered around the room, and the blankets on the bed had been tussled and pushed around. It was clear someone had been living here, but who? And why were you in a room you had never seen before? 

And why, God— 

Why was that jack-in-the-box still sitting on the shelf? And why was the crank turning on its own, playing the quiet, foreboding tune of “Pop Goes The Weasel?” 

The feeling of dread that filled you was nothing new, but what you didn’t expect was to see the box slowly open as the crank continued to turn.

The movement wasn’t sudden, but it was absolutely shocking, so much so that you fell back onto your hands. You tried to scoot backwards, to somehow get away, but you couldn’t move. All you could do was watch as the lid of the box clicked into its open place, and a dark shape began to emerge. 

It took a moment for you to figure out what you were looking at. The shape had sharp edges and moved slowly, in a controlled manner. It wrapped around the edge of the box and tapped against it. 

It was a hand. 

A massive hand with pitch black claws, each nearly as large as your palm, much too big to belong to something that should’ve been able to fit in that box. 

A second clawed hand reached up, grabbing onto the opposite side of the box. They looked to be pulling up the rest of the body. 

You watched, mouth agape in silent horror as the claws were followed by long striped sleeves, then a head and face covered by long black hair that fell past broad shoulders, until eventually the entire body had dragged itself out of the box. The creature sat there limply with its limbs bent unnaturally as if its own body was too heavy for it to move. There was one thing about it, though, that made your blood run cold: 

Above a sharp toothed smile that was stretched impossibly wide were two achromatic pinwheel eyes, spinning manically behind a curtain of dark hair. They pierced your soul with their stare, almost seeming to glow in the dark.

There was a split second where you knew you were about to wake up, but the sight before you when you forced your eyes open was so similar to your nightmare that you weren’t sure it had worked. 

That…thing from your dream was hovering over you. 

Its visage was completely clear to you now, hair falling around its face and on either side of your head as it peered down at you. A single glance towards its body showed it was even bigger up close, easily twice your size. It resembled some sort of clown, in line with the theme of the jack-in-the-box, but nothing about it seemed comforting or humorous. 

Your first instinct was to thrash, but you couldn’t move. The clown had pinned your arms down with its massive claws, not even flinching when you tried to fight it off. It took no effort to hold you down. 

Its razor-toothed mouth began to crack open, and for a second you expected it to lunge forward and end it all with one fatal snap of its jaws. 

But that didn’t happen.

No, instead… 

It laughed.

The laugh itself didn’t even sound malicious or evil. In any other context it could easily be mistaken as an innocent giggle, a sound you might make when you saw something particularly cute. 

That was what you were to Jack: 

Cute. 

But not in the way you’d think. 

You were cute in the way a helpless, injured animal is cute. 

Cute in the way that something you could hold in the palm of your hand is cute. 

Cute in the way that something you knew you had complete control over is cute. 

Cute in a pathetic, pitiful way that Jack loved. 

He had waited so long to have his fun with you, he was trembling with excitement. 

“Oooh, there you are!” Jack spoke in a lighthearted tone, drawing out his words in a playful manner. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to sound like, but it definitely wasn’t that. You couldn’t decide if his oddly happy demeanor and sing-song tone with the cartoonish lilt of his accent was more or less frightening than the classic demonic voice of a supernatural killer.

Suddenly something uncomfortably wet slid from your shoulder to your cheek, and it wasn’t until he pulled back that you realized it was his tongue. 

It was impossibly long and had the same striped pattern as his sleeves, moving in a much too articulated manner, as if it was another limb. You watched with wide eyes at it slowly retracted back into his mouth with a sickening wet sound. You could imagine it coiled up in there like a snake; after all, that was the only feasible way it should’ve been able to fit back in his mouth. 

“You taste even better than I imagined…” The clown continued, taking no notice of (or at least not caring about) your discomfort. “You’ve been teasing ol’ Jack, haven’t you?” 

“J…Jack?” You echoed in a whisper. You could hardly hear your own meek voice. 

He only chuckled in response, taking great delight in hearing you say his name. 

One of his hands released your arm, though you didn’t dare move either way. It slowly slid its way under your oversized nightshirt, pushing it above your chest and exposing your entire midriff. Both of his hands ran along your sides slowly, two claw-tipped thumbs barely scraping over your skin. Just a bit more pressure could’ve drawn blood, and it wouldn’t even take much effort on Jack’s part. 

You tried not to move, to not even breathe, terrified that one wrong move would get you torn to shreds. You could imagine one razor sharp talon digging into your chest and dragging to your stomach, slicing you open in a mess of gore and intestines and oh, God—

You winced when Jack’s tongue unfurled once more, this time running from your navel all the way to your chest. It left a cold trail of saliva that made you shiver. You had to turn your head away, unable to look at Jack any longer, only to yelp in pain when you felt the sharp sting of a bite.

When you looked down again you were greeted with Jack’s smug grin. 

“Pay attention to me and I won’t have to do that again.” He ordered, unblinking stare piercing through you. The tone of the demand was almost whiny, like he would throw a tantrum if he didn’t get his way.

“Wh…What the hell do you want?” You choked out. 

Jack didn’t answer. It would be more fun to watch you figure it out on your own. 

He adjusted you in his hold, allowing him to sit up as he moved to grasp your thighs. It was then you realized you’d neglected to put on any actual pants before bed, your lower half clad only in your boxer briefs which were doing very little to keep you modest, especially as Jack lifted your clothed bulge closer to his eager mouth. 

“W-Wait—!”

But your plea came a moment too late, and any other attempt at words died in your throat when you felt Jack’s tongue run over your cock through your boxers. 

“Shit—! Jesus Christ…” You huffed, “What the fuck…are you doing…?” 

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip and watched helplessly as Jack’s tongue ran over you once more, making you tense as you felt your cock twitch. Damn, that felt good…

You really shouldn’t have been enjoying this. Especially not this much. You expected to be much more disgusted, and yet you weren’t. In fact, there was a little voice in the back of your head that was eager to take much more. 

But what choice did you have, really? 

Jack certainly had no intention of stopping, and you certainly weren’t going anywhere. Besides, for all you knew you’d wake up tomorrow and realize this was all a shameful wet dream.

You tried to relax a bit in his grip, which proved difficult when he was staring at you like he wanted to eat you alive. 

Before you could blink Jack had suddenly flipped you onto your stomach, making quick work of your boxers with one swipe of his claws. The sound of ripping fabric caught you off guard, and everything happened so fast you weren’t sure what had happened until you felt Jack’s tongue run over the bare back of your thighs. 

“Oh my God—!” You cried out, barely managing to muffle yourself with a pillow. You held it tight against your face, and even had to bite down on it in an attempt to stop yourself from screaming when Jack slipped his tongue inside of you.

It felt even longer than it looked, squirming inside of you and leaving absolutely no spot untouched. Every time you thought he couldn’t possibly go any deeper, he somehow did, filling you with his tongue until you couldn’t fit anymore. A shame, really; he had lots more to offer, but he couldn’t expect much from such a little human. 

His hands were easily large enough to grasp your waist and hold you against his mouth. You had no way of knowing, but Jack was more than aware of his own strength, even taking care to make sure he didn’t pierce you with his nails. You’d be much for fun alive, after all. Although, this didn’t mean he didn’t have a bit of fun scaring you, occasionally giving a rough squeeze just to feel you flinch. He was thoroughly invested in tasting every inch of you, but that didn’t mean he’d stop toying with you at every opportunity. 

Despite his hold on you, you couldn’t stop yourself from writhing desperately in his hands. You weren’t trying to fight him, but the sensation of his tongue wriggling around so deep inside of you was certainly an odd one. Your cock was already throbbing between your legs and dripping precum onto your sheets. There was a nagging urge to reach down and give your needy member some much needed attention, but you couldn’t force yourself to release your painful grip on your blanket. It was the only thing providing you any sort of purchase. 

Jack was making quite the show of eating you out as well, moaning and slurping in a rather dramatic manner. He certainly wasn’t afraid of being noisy, though he made sure to stay quiet enough to listen to your encouraging noises. You sounded so desperate and needy, he just couldn’t get enough. You became especially loud when he began to slowly move his tongue in and out. He could even feel you squeeze around it, and it made his cock ache as he imagined what it would feel like to finally be inside of you. 

You shuddered when Jack finally retracted his tongue, his saliva completely soaking your hole and beginning to run down your legs, leaving you now feeling thoroughly stretched but unpleasantly empty. He only let you rest as long as it took for him to close and wipe his mouth before he was manhandling you once more, this time flipping you into your previous position on your back. It happened so fast that just the impact of your head on the pillow made you dizzy. 

When you looked up again Jack had leaned back a bit, looking down at his hands as he unbuckled his suspenders and soon after his pants. You followed his gaze just in time to see his own massive length spring free from his trousers. 

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

It was bigger than anything you’d ever even imagined, and suddenly you felt embarrassingly inadequate. It too was striped, and shaped in such a way that you could easily tell it was a cock but definitely not a human one. He laid it over your stomach and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer size. It was thick and heavy too, throbbing eagerly against your skin. 

“W-Woah, wait, no way—“ You stuttered, attempting to crawl backwards and away from Jack. “That’s fucking giant, holy shit…You can’t— T-That won’t—“ 

“Shhhhh!” Jack interrupted as he roughly pulled you back to him, “Calm down, you whiny little thing. You’ll be fine.” 

You only whimpered in reply, watching with bated breath as he spread your legs wide to make room for his cock. He groaned with delight when his leaking tip brushed against your waiting hole.

“A-At least be careful…!” You pleaded in a last-ditch effort to earn yourself some mercy. 

“I make no promises.” Jack replied shortly, as if he was annoyed with your request. Maybe it was a bit cruel to be so careless, but surely you were being dramatic. Humans were meant to stretch, right? Surely you weren’t that fragile.

The noise that struggled out of your mouth when he forced himself into you was downright inhuman, followed by a string of curses and other equally nasty exclamations of the sort that could’ve barred you from getting you into heaven all on their own. Not that you were going either way at this point. 

When Jack had finally filled you as much as he could, only about two thirds of his cock had managed to disappear inside of you. That was still rather impressive, all things considered, and it’s not like he could complain. Your tight hole squeezed around him in all the right places. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You repeated under your breath as you tried to adjust to Jack’s size, a borderline impossible task. 

“Foul mouthed one, aren’t you?” He scolded, grabbing your chin roughly. “Behave, or I’ll have to wash your mouth out.” 

He seemed to find that hilarious, laughing to himself as if he’d never heard a funnier joke in his life. 

“You…fuckin’ freak…” You spat back at him half-heartedly. It was hard to sound angry when you were trying to catch your breath after being filled to your limit. Jack feigned a gasp of disbelief at your lackluster insult. 

“Naughty, naughty thing you are! Someone simply must teach you to behave!” 

He squeezed you in his grip, testing his hold one last time before he began to pull back. You thought he’d stop halfway or at least start slow, but you were left speechless as he pulled out nearly all the way, leaving just the tip still nestled inside of you. You grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to brace yourself for what was sure to be a brutal impact.

“Brutal” was an understatement.

Shit, it felt like he fucking impaled you. You choked on what would’ve been a shriek when he pushed into you again, nails digging into his shoulder so hard it would’ve drawn blood if he had any. You felt unbearably full as his cock bullied its way back inside of you until it was laying heavy in your stomach. 

Jack let out a shuddering moan that dissolved into a breathy laugh as he watched you struggle to keep it together. Your mouth hanging open in a silent scream and eyes going wide with panic was exactly what he wanted to see. 

“Aww, did that hurt?” He asked, and honestly the condescending tone stung a bit. You only glared in reply. 

He pulled back again, slamming into you with even more force than the first time. You could feel the bed swaying beneath you from the sheer strength. You could only hope he didn’t wind up breaking it after he broke you. 

Jack was never one to take things slow, and as soon as he had gotten the hang of his thrusts he set a brutal pace. Each movement made your head spin with the impact. You really weren’t built to take something so massive, you shouldn’t have been able to, but you were taking it despite your body’s protests. You didn’t want to look down, unable to even stand the thought of seeing his gigantic cock disappear inside of you. 

Desperate, animalistic noises spilled through your gritted teeth and out of your mouth. Each thrust hit deeper than the last and there were times you swore he was literally rearranging your guts. Of course you would eventually adjust to Jack’s size and strength, but that didn’t shake the fear that this encounter could land you in the hospital. This fear would fade as he continued though, the overwhelming fullness and ache soon melting into a pleasure like you’d never felt before. You grasped at anything you could, whether it be your sheets or Jack’s sleeves or hair, hopelessly clawing at anything you could get your shaky hands on. 

Jack’s tongue laid limp out of his mouth as he panted, shamelessly rutting into you like a toy. You were nothing but a rag doll in his clutches for him to hold and use to his black heart’s content, and then some. While you couldn’t bring yourself to look down, he was more than happy to watch his cock thrust in and out of you. The wet squelching sounds made by each little movement were like music to his ears. 

He knew he must’ve been hitting deep when he noticed the bulge he was making in your stomach. 

Oh, you simply had to see this! 

He grabbed your hair roughly and forced you to look down. 

“Ahah! Do you see that? Do you?” He asked eagerly. He took your choked noise as a ‘yes.’ 

“You’re so small, ahah…I wonder how deep I can go before you break in two!” 

He tugged on your hair once more, this time pulling it back to expose your neck. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he dragged his tongue slowly up your neck before pulling you into a messy kiss. It only took one second of your surprise to allow him to slip his tongue into your mouth, and it quickly found its way down your throat. You were caught off guard and nearly choked, which only made Jack laugh against your lips. You could feel every little twitch or jerk it made as it explored your throat with no regard for your comfort. 

Jack didn’t pull away until he could tell you were struggling for air, retracting his tongue incredibly quickly. You were coughing and heaving to catch your breath, which he apparently found very amusing. It seemed to send him into a giggling fit every time he scared you half to death. 

Suddenly Jack came to an abrupt stop. You looked up at him in confusion, but he wasn’t looking at you. He was focused on something else. You felt yourself being jostled around as he shifted his position, sitting up on his knees and lifting you from the bed with one hand still around your waist and the other under your back. You were entirely supported by his hands now. 

What the hell is he thinking?!

You felt him retracting once more, but this time he wasn’t moving his hips. He was moving you. 

He showed no signs of struggle or even the slightest strain as he began to thrust into you again, your weight practically nothing to him. He was using you like a goddamn fleshlight, nothing more than a sleeve for his cock. 

And honestly…It wasn’t so bad. 

That seemed to be your breaking point, any sense of dignity you had before completely going out the window as you gave into him fully. If he was going to use you like a toy, you could at least put in the effort to be a good one. 

“F-Fuck! Ah—! Jack, m-more…!” You begged, and for a moment a look of surprise flashed across his face. The last thing he was expecting was to hear you pleading for him so shamelessly, but it was a welcome surprise. His signature grin returned quickly, stretching from one pointed ear to the other. 

“Oh, more he says?!” He replied, “More, more!  What happened to ‘wait, Jack!’ and ‘you can’t, Jack!’, huh? Sudden change of heart?” 

He was mocking your voice, degrading you so blatantly that he expected you to recoil at his nasty words, but instead you tightened around him. 

Oh…you liked that. 

He was more than happy to keep going. 

“What is it then, hm? Or have you already gone too stupid to answer me? Aha, you really do love this!” 

You nodded quickly in response, managing to push out a slurred reply that sounded vaguely like an agreement. 

“Fine then,” he conceded, “I can give you more…” 

And just when you thought he couldn’t possibly go any faster or shove in any deeper or make you cry out for him even more. 

He fucked you like his current life and the next depended on it, each thrust slamming the headboard into the wall so hard it left a mark. Your legs trembled as you began to get lost in the pleasure. It all felt like a blur, a wonderful blur only broken up by the realization that you were much closer to your orgasm than you realized.

“Jack, J-Jack—! I’m close, I…I’m…” You couldn’t even choke out a single sentence of warning. Jack was more than aware of what you were trying to tell him, but he was content to let you pathetically struggle for words. 

“Go on, why don’t you? If you need it so bad I won’t stop you.” 

His attempt at an impartial tone was greatly hindered by his obvious excitement, a result of how close he was to his own peak and how much he desired to see you cum. He wanted so badly to see you make a mess for him, to feel you spasm around him and know that he was the one who brought you to that. 

“Oh, please—!” You whined, “Please, please, please…” 

You had no idea what you were begging for. You didn’t have to, though, because it seems like your pleas worked anyways. Every muscle in your body tensed on instinct, your back arching up into Jack and one last high pitched cry managing to leave your throat as you came. The force of your orgasm hit you like a truck, more intense and prolonged than any other you’d had, helpfully hastened by Jack’s increasingly erratic thrusts. 

“Ahah, you squeezed so tight!” He gushed, “You feel so, so good…” 

Faster, faster, faster, he had to go faster. He was so close, so close. He had to fill you, he had to. He had to see his cum dripping out of you and to know that he’d filled you with all he had and you had to be filled. 

He went silent for a split second, and you knew what you were in for when his hips stuttered before going still, but you weren’t ready for the sheer amount of cum he pumped into you. He held you on his cock until he was completely done, continuing to make small ruts with his hips until he’d ridden out his orgasm to the end. There simply wasn’t room for it all inside of you, but even as it flowed out of you and down your legs and onto your sheets he continued to spill into you. You’d gone limp in his hands by the time he was done. 

You barely processed the feeling of being laid back down on your bed, but you definitely winced when Jack pulled out of you. Damn, you were already sore. Not to mention your forehead was drenched with a thick layer of sweat and your thighs were soaked with a multitude of bodily fluids that you were trying not to think about right now. 

You managed to crack an eye open when you heard Jack snickering. 

“Tired already? A shame. I had fun.” He said casually, as if the both of you had just returned from an outing and he hadn’t practically jumped you in your own home. Your only answer was an exhausted sigh. 

Jack cocked his head to the side as he stared down at you. Were you really so worn out already? He wasn’t tired at all! Then again, “tired” wasn’t really something he felt…

Humans are so strange. 

He laid down beside you and draped an arm over you. When he leaned in you expected him to lick you again, but instead he brought you into a kiss. An actual kiss, the first real gesture of affection he’d given you, even if it was rather brief. He pulled away to nestle his face into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his laughter against your skin. 

“You’re a funny one, do you know that? I hope I get to play with you a lot more…” 

Oh, fuck. 

He wasn’t leaving, was he?

#creepypasta #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x reader #male reader #laughing jack #laughing jack x reader #laughing jack smut #clown fucker #creepypasta x male reader #laughing jack x male reader #laughing jack x you #creepypasta x reader smut #laughing jack x reader smut #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent

[mrwavellswaps]

Midnight

(Halloween Special)

It was October 31st and the evening was fast approaching. The sun was already beginning to set and pretty soon all the Halloween action was about to begin. Action that typically ranged from trick or treating to spooky house parties. Garret was planning on heading to the latter.

He’d meant to find himself a costume of sorts to wear but between work and dedicating a big chunk of his free time to the gym, working to maintain all the thick muscle he’d built, he’d found himself without anything interesting to wear. He knew most of his college frat buddies would be there and they’d almost certainly be dressing up in some way or another so he didn’t want to be seen as the boring one of the group. But what the hell could he wear? He didn’t really want to because it’d probably look terrible but at this point he’d more or less accepted that he’d just have to buy something cheap from the shop up the road. If anything they could at least have a laugh over how bad his costume was.

Just as the jock went to step out outside however, he was greeted by a pumpkin sat on his doorstep. But this wasn’t just any pumpkin. There was a silly rumour that went around town that there was a cursed pumpkin head that had some strange untold powers on Halloween night. People had reported seeing it just showing up out of nowhere in the street or near houses. Always the exact same pumpkin. Same shape. Same carving. Everything. But Garret didn’t believe it of course. Who the hell would believe a stupid rumour like that? His only guess was that it had to be someone around town trying to mess with him.

He was about to ignore it but then an idea struck him. He picked up the pumpkin to see that it already had a hole in the bottom and was perfectly hollowed out. Honestly he couldn’t even tell if it was real or fake. Regardless he figured showing up to the party with a ‘cursed’ pumpkin on his head would get a few laughs out of people while also saving him a trip to the shop. And so he shrugged before turning and heading back inside, pumpkin in hand.

Garret later sat debating with himself over something. He had a great idea for how exactly he could show up to the party but would it be too much he wondered? Nahhhhh. And so he proceeded to pull off the t-shirt and sweatpants he’d been wearing before grabbing another pair of rather skimpy underwear to put on. Now his thick jock body was on full display in all its glory. Those bulging biceps, watermelon sized pecs and those tree trunks he called legs. And to top it all off he slid the pumpkin on his head before strutting over to a mirror to take a look.

“Fuuuuck yeah baby! The chicks at this party are gonna love this!” He claimed boldly while giving his reflection a quick flex. “Yeahhhhh… they ain’t gonna be able to resist all this.” He chuckled to himself while thrusting his hips slightly, hoping to have a hot bitch on his dick by the end of the night.

The party wasn’t for a couple hours yet as it started at 11pm yet for some reason Garret didn’t feel like taking the pumpkin head off. Something about it felt weirdly… comfortable? He didn’t really think too much of it really and at one point almost forgot it was on his head. But soon enough 11pm was fast approaching and all of the trick or treaters had gone home so now was the time. Garret grabbed a coat and slung it on before stepping outside into the cool autumn night and starting his walk towards the party.

As soon as he arrived his bros welcomed him in, all laughing over the so-called ‘cursed pumpkin’ he was wearing. Those laughs quickly turned to cheers and whistles however as he soon threw off his coat to reveal his bare torso. His hunky body out for all to see. He immediately had the girls and gays drooling while even those that weren’t into guys couldn’t help admitting he had a damn good body.

From there on the party raged for the next hour. Dancing, laughing and all sorts of party shenanigans going down. Garret had even noticed a few hot babes that’d been checking him out much to his delight, causing his cocky grin to widen beneath the pumpkin head. Speaking of which he’d hardly removed the pumpkin even since arriving. He’d only taken it off once or twice momentarily to have a drink here and there before slipping it right back on. Once again though he didn’t think much of it. It was his costume after all. If he didn’t wear the pumpkin then he was pretty much just an almost dude in skimpy underwear. At least that’s what he told himself.

The clocks ticked closer and closer to midnight and as they did Garret began to get a weird feeling that he couldn’t describe. A mix of emotions like excitement, joy and anticipation. Only these emotions felt… second hand almost. Like they weren’t his own. As strange as it was he simply convinced himself that he was just a bit tipsy from the beer he’d been drinking.

However the second it turned midnight, an inexplicable feeling washed over Garret. He began to feel dizzy as everything around him began to blur.

“Bro… what the fuuuuuuuuckkk…” Garret groaned.

The crowd didn’t seem to notice much due to all the dancing and excitement of the party. That is until out of nowhere Garret’s entire body began to convulse. Strong muscles jiggling as his body shook uncontrollably. So much so that a handful of people couldn’t help noticing.

“Garret? Come on, we know that thing isn’t actually cursed. Stop being an idiot.” One of his mates said from behind as he watched on at the hunk’s shaking body.

The man was about to say something else when suddenly the convulsions stopped and Garret stood still once again. Only now he seemed a little dazed as he caught his balance after nearly falling over. He immediately began looking down at himself as best he could with the pumpkin head on. Touching his torso in a half curious, half sexual manner. More and more people began to notice this in small glances. Seeing at the dumb party jock started to feel himself up a little in the middle of the dance floor.

“Yo Garret! What’re you doing bro?” Another one of the dudes at the party asked.

Immediately after the hunk began to take notice of all the eyes on him now.

“Oh! Uhh…” He coughed a few times as if he weren’t used to his own voice. “I just… wanted everyone to know how uhhh… fuckin hot I am. Bro.” Garret stumbled with his words awkwardly. Even the way he said ‘Bro’ sounded foreign.

Immediately after Garret excused himself from the floor where everyone was dancing. He pushed his way through the crowd and as he did some people couldn’t help noticing the way that he moved. It was as if he wasn’t used to his own weight and size. Not to mention how strange his stride was. He was stumbling over himself slightly while subtly trying to adjust his bulge as if he weren’t used to the cock and balls between his massive thighs.

Eventually Garret managed to make his way to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. The jock walked over towards the mirror and took a long deep breath. “Finally…” he mumbled before grabbing the pumpkin and slowly slipping it off his head.

Upon seeing his reflection Garret couldn’t help grinning. “Holy shit... I’m-… I’m a fucking hunk!” He exclaimed with glee upon getting a good look at not only his body but his handsome face as well.

“God I was stuck inside that pumpkin for so long…Not being able to move, touch, smell or taste. I was starting to go insane.” He said as he touched his face curiously. “Sorry bro but it’s your turn now.” He smirked, looking at the pumpkin head now sat on the counter next to the sink.

Little had Garret known that the curse on the pumpkin head was most certainly real despite his skepticism. Every Halloween when the pumpkin gains its powers it will appear to someone it deems fit who will feel subtly compelled to wear it. However the person wearing the pumpkin when midnight rolls around will have their soul trapped inside it! In turn whoever was last trapped inside the pumpkin will gain the take over the body instead.

Last Halloween the pumpkin appeared to a young woman named Kim. Just like Garret she ended up wearing it and come midnight the soul that’d been previously trapped in the pumpkin stole her body and trapped her inside it. Since then she’d been trapped in this strange cursed pumpkin. She had the ability to teleport around but she found that she was completely invisible to the world. It was torture. All the while a stranger was enjoying her body. That is until Halloween finally rolled around again and suddenly she was visible once more. Luckily she’d been watching a certain young jock a lot recently. The type she would’ve been into before. Garret. That’s when it all clicked. Now was her chance to get a new body. And so she made sure to show up on Garret’s doorstep and the rest is history.

Kim’s manly new hands began to explore her new body. “Holy fuuuck. I can’t believe I’m actually a man!” She exclaimed, still in awe at her new masculine body. “It feels so different. Everything from the shape to the proportions. It’s all so weird.” She continued as he felt around her hips and waist. Running her hands along her new abs with a lustful curiosity. “Mmmm it feels goooood though.”

Her smirk grew even wider as she brought her hands up towards her chest. Without a second thought she cupped her massive new pecs in her hands, hefting them a little much to her own joy. “God these tits are even bigger than my old ones.” She laughed while giving her pecs a good grope. That’s when an idea hit her. “I wonder if I can…” She took a small step back and focused on her chest. It took about a minute or so to figure it out but, thanks to muscle memory, pretty soon she was bouncing her pecs in the mirror! “Fuck that is HOT!” She said with Garret’s slightly dumb sounding jock voice. A voice that she was quickly growing to love.

She wanted to continue admiring her new muscular form but was quickly interrupted by a growing tightness in her groin. “Oh- Jesus that’s… fuck.” Kim muttered to herself as she looked down to see her new bulge growing bigger. She reached down somewhat hesitantly before placing a curious hand on it. She gently ran her hand along the hardening outline of her new cock as it pulsed bigger with excitement. “Wow… so that’s what it feels like huh? It’s so-Mmph” She grunted as he gave her manhood a quick squeeze or two. “So stiff… how the hell do guys walk around with these things between their legs? It was weird enough moving around when it was limp.” She continued while squeezing it a few more times and rubbing her hand back and forth along the outline, shuddering slightly with delight as she did. “Oh god it feels good though…”

The real Garret could only watch on completely helpless as the woman who stole his powerful body began to slide his skimpy underwear down. It was a nightmare! He was praying that any second now he was gonna wake up and that this was all some sort of crazy dream. Unfortunately for him however, this was indeed reality.

As soon as she slipped off the underwear, Kim’s new cock practically jumped out at her. Smacking her abdomen before standing out in front of her at full salute. “Shhhiiiitttt Bro!” She said, imitating Garret’s jock attitude. “This thing feels like a metal rod!” She commented as she took the fat cock in her hand. It was thick and long, perfectly shaped and not to mention sensitive as Kim was quickly finding out. She couldn’t stop herself from letting out a deep grunt as she stroked her new dick a couple of times. The sensation of which felt mind blowing to her.

“Oh god okay. This could just be my new man brain talking but now I understand why dudes always wanna fuck.” She smacked her chick against her hand a few times and that sent a small shiver up her body. “I just wanna stick this thing in any hot hole I can find.” Kim added before thrusting her hips slightly just as Garret had been doing earlier that day. “Jeez… I’ve only been in this body for 10 minutes and I’m already acting like a dude.” She chuckled. Though she had to admit the idea of that was hot as fuck. Not only stealing Garret’s jock body but then also acting like a dumb horny bro as well. Something about that was only making her dick harder.

After which her hand moved just a tad bit lower towards her balls. Her fat, full jock balls. She couldn’t quite explain it but something about holding them in her hand made her feel… comfortable? And the feeling of swinging them between her legs even made her feel more confident in a strange way. Like they were a literal source of pride. “I can’t believe there’s cum inside these things…”

What followed was a scene of Kim showing off to herself in the mirror like an absolute man whore. She particularly enjoyed flexing her now massive biceps, the sight of which was driving her crazy with lust. “Fuck yeahhh! I feel so fucking huge and powerful! I always wondered how jacked dudes felt having giant fucking muscles like this.” She relished in the immense strength she felt flowing through her arms as she flexed them. Even keeping her left arm flexed as he used her right to jerk off her new cock some more to her own reflection.

“And these legs?! Jesus I could probably crush a melon between these thighs.” She ran a hand down the massive trunks, flexing them a little as she admired her thick quads and strong calves which led down to a pair of feet that were easily 4 sizes bigger than the ones she’d had a year ago. However this then caused her hands to wander towards her backside and immediately upon groping it she couldn’t stop herself from turning around to take a look in the mirror. “And I’ve got a jock butt!” She wailed, letting out her more feminine side for a second before inspecting it some more. Her hands cupped the large muscular globes from below before jiggling them, allowing the reflection of it to captivate her. A buff straight jock jiggling his ass towards a mirror. It was perfect.

Speaking of which, as Kim continued to jerk her cock, she began to notice Garret’s sexuality setting in. Part of her had been expecting this. She knew Garret was straight from what she’d seen so she was expecting to become straight as well. Only… that’s not what happened. Not only had she been enjoying her own body way too much for a straight man but she also found the idea of getting to use her new manly form to hook up with other dudes to be insanely hot! Yet despite that she couldn’t help thinking about tits and pussy as well just like a straight guy. All of it was hot!

That’s when it hit her. Garret wasn’t straight. He was Bi! He must’ve hidden that gay side out of fear of being seen differently. Perhaps just finding it easier to fit into that social norm of being a straight guy. But secretly he’d always wanted to fuck other dudes ass’ just as much as he did pussy. Maybe even more so. And now Kim did as well.

By this point Kim had completely given in to his new cock. Jerking it off obsessively while continuing to admire his reflection. Not much of a surprise considering he’d never dealt with one before, making it easy for him to fall into the temptation of it all. The feeling of having something long and hard between his legs that could penetrate someone was exhilarating. Just the thought of slipping it inside someone had his mind reeling. Being able to thrust in and out of someone and completely dominate them with his strength and size. Hell, even the thought of someone doing that to him right now was making him horny. Another dude slamming his cock into his jock butt. He could finally find out if the male g-spot really felt as good as everyone says.

“OH FUCKK!” Kim shouted as he continued jerking his dick furiously. All the while continuing the flex and pec bounce. “I’M GONNA CUM! I’M GONNA CUM! I’M GONNA- GAUHHHHHHHHHH!” He roared before doing exactly that. He let go of his dick and quickly tossed both arms up into a double bicep flex as an eruption of cum exploded from his cock. Thick heavy ropes of ball batter splashed across the mirror before Kim intentionally turned to face the pumpkin as he shot another rope. Cum splattered across the pumpkin, coating the real Garret in his own seed as he’s forced to watch helplessly as his former body unloads. “FUCKKK BROOOOO!”

It took Kim a few minutes to catch his breath after that. “That… was… amazing…” He claimed between heavy breathes as he basked in the afterglow of his first male orgasm. He had to admit it felt rather different from the female orgasms he’d been used to before but it felt just as incredible. Just the feeling of firing that milky white substance from his cock was euphoric.

Once Kim had a chance to catch his bearings a bit, he started to clean up a little. Quickly wiping up most of the cum including what had gotten on the pumpkin. He had a little fun playing with soft dick, loving how cute it looked now it’s shrunk down to its flaccid and far less intimidating size. After which he grabbed Garret’s underwear again and pulled them back up quickly.

“Wow… this face is just… wow.” he commented as he stared back into the mirror once again, getting right up close to it this time. It was so different to the face he’d had originally. His features were so much sharper and deeper. His jaw was wider. His eyes were more… piercing? At least with his hair being so short now it should be a lot easier to maintain. And the beard! God he loved the beard. Something about it just made him feel that much more manly. He always loved a man with a bit of facial hair and now he was one. Overall he just adored the masculine look to it. It was as if he’d become the very object of his desire. A complete fucking hunk.

“I’ll tell you what Garret, I think I'm gonna love being you.” he said to the pumpkin. “I’m hot and jacked but most of all, I’m a man!” Kim grinned. “No more periods, no more pregnancy worries and no more bullshit expectations women have to live up to. Instead I get to have huge muscles and a fat cock that I can use to dump a load into any hole I want and most of all I get a whole lot male privilege.” he reached down and grabbed his bulge with a sly grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to keep this body in good shape.” he promised having already felt a strange urge to lift and workout upon taking this body. “Hey, there’s always next Halloween. Maybe then you’ll be able to find a new body just like me.” he half taunted him.

Just then there was a loud knock on the door. “GARRET?! YOU IN THERE? HURRY UP DUDE!” Someone shouted from the other side.

“Shit. Better get back out there. Let’s hope I can get used to walking with a dick and balls before people start asking questions.” The new Garret laughed while picking the pumpkin back up. “Hope you don’t mind if I use you for the rest of the party. You’re kinda my costume.” He chuckled before slipping the cursed pumpkin back on his head.

And with that Garret stumbled his way out of the bathroom and into the party once more where he would continue to mingle with the other guests. None of which had any clue as to what had gone down. And soon enough he’d toss aside the memories of his former life as a woman to truly integrate himself into this new life flawlessly. The life of a hot jock bro who’s only cares in the world are fucking and getting even more swole. Only now that life might include a lot more men than it did before.

I know I’m on a break right now but I couldn’t help cooking up a hot Halloween story. Hope you all enjoyed!

If you love my stories then please consider supporting me on Patreon as well!! ❤️

#male body theft #female to male #male possession #identity theft #muscle theft #curse #magic #permanent #jock #self worship #straight to bi

[axelsagewrites]

Can I request a modern! Jacaerys x Fem! OC fic where Rhaenyra is best friends with the OC’s mother and both Rhaenyra and the OC’s mother try to get Jacaerys and the OC to be friends and like each other but they absolutely hate each other ( like actually hate ) even when they were babies. Then, they grow up near each other and go to the same school but they still hate each other severely. During high school Jace becomes popular, and becomes the captain of his soccer team, and even gets a girlfriend while the OC is not popular by any means and is very shy and reclusive. They go off to uni, and the OC finally shows up to a frat party ( Jace’s frat ) and the tension sort of at its height, and that night and the OC accidentally ends up pregnant and they learn to love and live with each other during her pregnancy. Thank you so much if you can do this btw!!!

Jace Velaryon*Frat Party

Pairing: jace x f!reader

Word count: 1982

Warnings: rivalry, mentions of bullying, frat jace, flirty frat cregan, implied smut but nothing explicity, hate sex, accidental pregnancy, drinking

Masterlist Here

Part Two linked at end

You had no clue how someone so sweet and loving and kind and amazing could birth such an idiotic insufferable twat. Yet somehow Rhaenyra had managed to do just that. Your mother was friends with Rhaenyra, lovingly dubbed aunty Nyra by you, and were so close that they deliberately moved into the same neighbourhood. This was all be swell if not for the fact that her eldest son Jace was just such a dick.

Your mothers tried to make you like each other and constantly set up playdates but you would simply ditch Jace to play with Luke until you realised, he’d only been so quite because he was giving your barbies haircuts. Eventually some time in middle school they gave up trying but still forced you to go on joint family vacations and similar hellish events.

There was a time in your freshman year of high school you almost became friends. That summer had gone surprisingly well with you both finally being civil enough to talk to each other. Then school rolled around again and Jace got onto the high school soccer team. You congratulated him and even was debating plucking up the courage to ask him to go out to celebrate since despite how much you hated him even you thought he was cute. Then he and sara snow came waltzing out of school and in hand and you went right back to hating him.

It wasn’t just because you were jealous, which you were but refused to admit, but because Sara snow had tormented you all of your first year. And Jace knew this. He knew she would taunt you and make pig noises at you in the corridor but yet here he was sucking face with her in front of your locker which was sadly right above his.

It only got worse when he dumped her then became the captain of the team. Then came a string of girlfriends who’d fawn over him relentlessly in school. To say it was hell was an understatement especially since it always seemed to be the girls that would tease you or laugh when you walked past. Highschool sucked to say the least but finally after all these years of hard work you got the letter.

Youd got into your dream school and were set to be moving to the dorm soon. A new start, new friends, another chance. Finally. Your bubble however was popped by your usual enemy. Jace fucking Velaryon was going there as well. You basically ran him down at the joint celebratory dinner your parents threw you both to say that if he dared ruin university for you the same way he ruined high school you’d make sure he’d never kick another ball again.

So, for the first two years you had peace. You had a small circle of friends, great classes, amazing grades, and your hair finally began to cooperate with you. Aunty Nyra even joked uni had given you a glow up when she saw you this summer. What you didn’t see was the way Jace’s eyes followed you as you left the room.

“I can’t believe you’ve never went to a frat party,” Aly said as she began to raid your closet, pulling out a dress and holding it to herself, “This poor dress. it deserves to see a little fun,”

You snorted at your friends as you helped straighten Sansa’s hair. “You wear it,”

“Or you could,” Sansa retorted, backing off when you held the straighteners in a way an angry mother holds a wooden spoon.

“Either you wear it, or I will,” Aly said as she tossed it on the bed and continued her raid. Your roommate Sansa had recently become friends with Aly and in an unexpected turn so had you. you and Sansa were far quieter than her, but Sansa always seemed to come back from hanging out with her with a huge smile, “Girl look at this top,” Aly broke your train of thought as she held up a black low-cut top, “How you not gonna go out when you own all these clothes?”

“My aunty got me them,”

Aly rolled her eyes as she continued her search, “Well I’m stealing the top but you’re wearing that dress,” she said and before you could even protest, she cut you off, “You are far too hot to be at home in sweats on a Saturday night. We are going,”

You sighed as you finished Sansa’s hair, but she turned to look up at you, “Cmon,” she whined, “one hour and if you don’t like it, we’ll all come back here and watch the polar express,”

You sighed yet again before pausing. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. After all your confidence was far better than what it once was, and you had a good few friends you knew would also be going. Your eyes wandered to the dark red dress on the bed. “Fuck it,” you said, snatching up the fabric.

“You’re coming?!” Sansa grinned, flinging herself off the bed, “Finally come on sit down. Its makeup times!”

-

Sansa and Aly worked their magic and soon you were walking arm in arm with both girls to the frat. And you had to say they had done a good job if you do say so yourself. Even if you were currently freezing that was. “Boys,” Aly greeted with a wide grin as she walked up to the boy at the door, Cregan you were sure.

“Troubles here,” he joked, his eyes wandering up and down, “And you brought a friend,” he said, eyes turning to you, and it was like the wind was knocked out of you when you saw his face, “Nice to meet you I’m Cregan,”

“Hi,” you grinned, quickly introducing yourself before rushing inside with a giggling Sansa and Aly.

“He was so checking you out,” Aly nudged your ribs.

“Okay maybe this was a good idea,” you laughed as she dragged you and Sansa off for some drinks.

-

As you stood filling your cup with cheap beer there was a set of gorgeous brown eyes watching your every move, “Dude you know that girl?” Cregan asked as he walked over with more drinks for him and Jace.

“She’s my neighbour,” he said, taking the drink and trying not to let his eyes wander again.

Cregan let out a low whistle, “If she was my neighbour, she would not be here alone,” he laughed prompting Jace to shove his elbow into his ribs, “Hey man!”

-

Meanwhile you had somehow been convinced to head to the dance floor. Perhaps the three drinks Aly had got you and the buzz in your head had helped. The night had been going surprisingly well. So far at least. You hadn’t even realised Jace was here. That was till you felt two strong hands grip your hips, “Not such a goody two shoes now,” Jace’s voice was low, his breath tickling your neck.

You turned around with a drunken grin as you attempted to push him back, but your attempt was futile, “What did you miss me too much?” you joked.

A grin spread across his lips, “You’re drunk?” he asked, his head tilted like a puppy.

“Watcha gonna do about it? tell on me?” you teased as you crossed your arms. Not knowing it gave Jace an even better view of your tits. “I’m just having a little fun,”

He chuckled as his hands returned to your hips, his head dipping slightly in a way that made butterflies spark in your stomach, “Why don’t you show me how to have a little fun then doll?”

Your eyes flickered down, scanning his face for a moment before grinning, “Follow me then,” you said as you lead him to the drinks table.

Several drinks later you awoke in dark blue sheets and a soccer jersey wondering where the hell your dress went and a strong arm around your waist. The low pounding of your head and Jace’s snores brought you back to reality. “Fuck,” you muttered as you tried to ease out of his grip.

Your eyes fell to the floor where your dress had apparently ended up last night. You debated which was worse, walking home in last night’s dress or Jace’s jersey. You quickly decided to steal a pair of his joggies as well and just ball up the dress and take it with you. as you crept out the room you ignored the faint snoring in the background.

Part of you wondered if it had all been a bad dream. That was till your phone buzzed.

Jace

You stole my jersey

You

What you gonna do? Tell on me?

You sighed as you flung your phone to the side and shoved your pillow in your face to scream. Funnily enough what you had been doing only last night as well.

-

It was the next day when a heavy knock came at the door. when you opened it, eyebrows knitted, you were met with an infuriatingly hot site. Jace’s arm was lent against the door meaning he was able to glare down at you perfectly, “I want my jersey,”

“Sorry do I know you?” you asked, crossing your arms with a tilted glare.

Jace scoffed slightly before grinning, “You seemed to remember my name fine the other night,” this time you scoffed but not before Jace pushed his way in. “Where is it?”

“Get out of my room!” you protested as Jace shut the door behind him and started rummaging. As his hands went to grab your sheets you pulled at his arms to keep him back but not shockingly, he was able to push you off with ease. “Hey!”

“What’s this?” he said, his hand reaching for the jersey that had been under your duvet however your face went red when he lifted it. a wide grin spread across his stupid face, “What’s that princess?”

“Don’t princess me,” you stuttered as he went to grab the pink silicone you’d left on your bed. “Don’t!” you whined as you grabbed his wrist, accidentally ending up face to face with him yet again.

You could feel his hot breath fanning your lips and you saw his eyes dip for a moment as a pit grew in your stomach. Before you could think what to do next his lips had crashed onto yours, his jersey slipping from his grip as his hands moved to cup your face.

Your hands grabbed at his t-shirt, pulling him in closer till you were stood pressed against his hard chest. His hands moved to your back, finding the small of your waist. Jace sat down, bringing you with him to staddle his lap. You gasped when you felt his bulge pressing into your thigh.

His lips moved to your neck, kissing every last bit of skin he could reach. “This is a bad idea- “

“Why don’t you shut up and enjoy it princess?” Jace cut you off, his hands slipping beneath your shirt. “You enjoyed it the other day,”

You groaned as his fingertips explored your skin before finally sighing, “Fine but it’s just sex,” Jace rolled his eyes at you but didn’t bother to respond as he flipped you onto your back, his hands moving to pull off your shirt.

-

You knew having a enemies with benefits situation ship with Jace would eventually come back to bite you in the ass but the two pink lines staring back at you felt like being plunged into ice water. “You okay Hun?” Sansa called through the door, wondering what had been taking you so long.

You unlocked the door but refused to stand up. Sansa walked in; concern written over her face when her eyes finally spotted the test in your hand. Looking up at her you could only say one thing, “I’m pregnant,”

Part two here

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