i know you’re not the actual staff, but why is everyone’s likes and follows private? is that a tumblr thing?
Why would you need to see what I like or who I follow. That's between me and god
Hi, can you write a smut with Chris Evans and girlfriend/reader where they're at a party, he's a little drunk and so horny, after reader realizes she decides to tease him even more that's where the sexual tension hits. When they get home there's a ton of make out sessions until he fucks her hard on bed.
*reader has a choking, rough sex and dirty talk kink. I'd like it to be pure filth smut, please.
After what I said you can do whatever you want with it, also it can be a long "story".
hi, I hope you like it.
warning - SMUT, fluff, daddy kink, choking.
18+ only please.
Chris tilts his head slightly, the cold beer sliding down his throat as his eyes focus on you. The blues of his eyes slowly become black with lust as he takes in the tight black dress hugging your curves. Chris can feel his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans, needing to be freed and buried deep inside your tight cunt, groaning lowly when you lean against the counter, pushing the ass he loves so much out. Chris places the empty beer bottle down as he walks over to you, pressing his bulge against your ass and resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Baby girl.” The deep rumble of his voice and his breath brushing up against your neck causes you to shiver, goosebumps forming all over. “I want you right now.”
You look over your shoulder slightly, your eyes connecting with his lustful blue ones. “But, daddy. You promised me a night out.” As the words leave your mouth, your back arches causing your ass to brush up against his cock. Your breath hitches as Chris begins to press light kisses along your neck, his hands landing on your hips, squeezing them.
Chris begins to grind his hips into you along with the music, his eyes closing briefly at the slight friction he receives. “C’mon, baby girl. Don’t you want to make daddy feel good? Feel my hand around your throat as I pound my thick cock inside of you?” He makes sure to deepen his voice as he whispers into your ear. His cock twitches as a whimper falls from your lips. You reach behind and place a hand on the back of his neck, and your fingers play with his hair as your core throbs.
“I don’t know, daddy. I feel like we should stay and dance for a bit.” A small smirk forms on your face when you hear him growl before squealing as he lifts you and takes you outside, carrying you over to your house across the street. The moment you enter the house, your lips connect, giggles leaving you as Chris hurriedly walks to your room. When you land on the bed, you both wrap around each other. Lips move with passion, tongues dancing with one another as they fight for dominance.
Chris’s hand slowly moves up your body before settling on your throat, wrapping his long fingers around it before squeezing softly. He slowly pulls back to watch as your eyes roll to the back of your head and a soft whimper leaves you. “You want daddy to fuck you, baby girl? Do you think you deserve it?” You nod, your dazed eyes lock onto his lustful ones. Chris raises a brow, and his other hand slowly slides up your thigh before a glare falls upon his face, looking down. He lifts the dress, his hold tightening on your throat.
“What a fucking slut, wearing nothing at a party. Were you expecting this?” A sharp moan leaves your mouth as he slaps your glistening cunt. “I’m surprised you didn’t flash everyone with how fucking short this dress is. You’re my little slut aren’t you?” He groans when he watches your juices flow out of your little cunt. Unable to hold back, he quickly takes his throbbing cock out and lines it up with your entrance.
Chris slowly looks into your eyes, waiting for your permission and when you nod. He pushes into you, your walls squeezing the thick base, and he continues to move until he bottoms out. “Jesus, you always feel like heaven.” Y/n wiggles around. Her hand squeezes the one around her throat to make it tighter.
He quickly maneuvers you so that your legs wrap around his waist, his cock sliding in and out of your tight cunt as he tightens his hand around your throat. “Fuck, baby girl. You’re so good for daddy, such a little slut, getting wet when my hand’s around your throat.” His pace picks up, pounding harder into his girl. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, as well as your moans and groans.
Chris leans forward, your lips connecting, hips smacking together. “Chris, Chris, oh fuck! Daddy!!” Your cunt begins to pulsate around him as your core tightens, feeling your end approaching as Chris pounds into your sweet spot. The feeling of being full makes your mind go dizzy. Your hands come around, nails digging into his back as your head tilts back, and you scream. Your walls squeeze the thick cock inside you as your juices flow out, coating the base in cream.
Chris groans, his hand tightening around your throat. His eyes roll back as he continues to pound into your cunt, your juices making it easier for him to slip in and out. Chris looks down, feeling his cock throb and balls tighten at the sight of your white cream coating him. Snapping his hips harder, causing you to move up the bed with the force of his thrusts before he buries deep inside and lets go.
Both moan as he fills you up, some of it leaking out before Chris lies on top, and you both take deep breaths. He slowly rolls you over, making sure not to slip out as you lie on him. “You did good, baby girl.” You hum in response, head resting on his chest as your cunt flutters around the softening member, feeling contempt where you are. Chris’s hand comes up and strokes your hair and back, feeling himself relax.
“Feel better, daddy?” Your soft mumble can be heard on top of his chest. Your eyes slowly close as the exhaustion begins to hit, feeling safe in his arms and connected as he’s still in you.
Chris hums, “yeah, baby girl. I love you so much.” His arms wrap tightly around you, holding you against him.
“I love you too.”
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
mrs ma’am… dick pic jason todd is driving me up the WALL!!! please a spare crumb of our idiots 🙏🙏
they're back!! i was having withdrawal symptoms from not writing them for so long. this turned out smuttier than i intended. whoops.
The constant string of messages serves as a concrete confirmation that he’s got too much time on his hands and that his mind has started to wander.
Part of you doesn’t mind. It’s nice to have a distraction from the last minute birthday party bustling around you. But that other part of you–that almost constantly nervous part–is wondering what exactly he’s up to.
Leave him alone for too long and he turns into something mischievous.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s found himself pulling a prank just because he’s nothing else to do.
First it was wrapping everything in your bedroom in tin foil. Second it was replacing all the photos in your apartment with pictures of Bob Ross. And the last prank he pulled was moving every single piece of furniture an inch to the left.
Your toes remind you of the pain that last prank caused and you’re quickly worried about what he might have planned this time.
It wouldn’t surprise you if he stole every single fork from your apartment and hid them in a stupid place. Hell, it wouldn’t faze you if you came home to find he’s changed the locks.
But you’re not expecting him to send you a photo.
The notification flashes up at the top of your screen and there’s a quick, sudden skip of your heart. You’ve found that it does that a lot lately when it comes to Jason. Found that there’s some niggling emotion you can’t quite unravel blooming behind your ribs.
He makes you nervous.
Hiding your phone from view you duck into a more quiet area of the party and open the message. A soft whine stumbles out from behind your teeth and you feel relentless heat kickstart in your gut.
He’s sprawled out on your bed.
And he’s got his hand wrapped around his cock.
Your mouth drops open and you almost start drooling at the sight of him. Between your legs aches and for a split second, you wonder if you could get away with rubbing one out right here. The fabric of your underwear starts getting damp, you feel it stick to the wet lips of your pussy and it’s just another sensation driving you half insane.
Jason’s hand can barely fit around his cock. The tips of his fingers almost don’t meet and you glance at your own hand, now filled with the knowledge that you would need to use both hands to jerk him off.
The head is flushed a deep red and the photo catches the slick shine of precum beading up from his slit. You want to taste him. You want him to taste you. Part of you can hardly breathe.
You: are you seriously jerking off in my fucking bed??
Jay: its a shame you're at that party
Jay: i could've given you a show
An idea sparks white hot in your brain and there’s the edge of a smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth.
You: send me a video
You: wanna watch you
Jason doesn’t reply and you shift from foot to foot. Impatient. Horny. Rubbing your thighs together to try and starve off the ache in your cunt, your eyes lock on the sign for the bathroom. Throwing a precautionary glance around you, you shift and beeline for the door, thankful that there’s no one lingering in the hall.
Locking yourself in a stall at the end you close the toilet seat and sit down, fingers drumming across your thigh.
Jay: sent a video
Opening it up you’re immediately greeted with a choked off moan. The camera shakes for the smallest second before it focuses and you feel yourself tighten up, feel your pussy leak an embarrassing amount of arousal into your underwear.
Stroking his cock from base to tip Jason’s hips kick up to meet his hand. All the muscles in his abdomen catch and release and the flex of them makes you sweat. Thick veins run up the underside of his shaft and when Jason drags his fingers over them, he twitches, cock slapping against his belly.
Spitting into his palm Jason fists the leaking tip and you watch as his spit runs down the length of him before dribbling over his balls. Squeezing at the head he groans and you whimper in response.
Fucking up into his tight fist you hear the wet squelch it makes and then, ever so softly, Jason says your name.
The video cuts off and you tip your head back.
You: you're trying to kill me aren't you??
You: all this because i ate the last of your cereal
You: you should be ashamed
The bathroom door slams open and multiple giggling voices echo when your name is called out, “Are you in here? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. We’re cutting the cake, come on!”
“Yeah, I'm here. Give me a second.” You answer, trying to keep your voice level, even.
You: you're meeting me once this party is over right??
You: i'll save you some cake
Jay: text me when you’re ready to leave and i’ll meet you outside
Jay: i expect two pieces minimum to make up for eating my cereal
Jay: anything less than that and i’ll remove all the towels from your apartment
You: fuck you Todd
You: also thanks for the video you look really pretty jerking off
You: double also if you leave a mess on my bed i’ll kill you
Okay here's a question for you. Do you think Hob is more of a "grab an actual weapon" or a "grab whatever object is closest to him" person when he thinks someone is breaking into his home?
I ask this because we all know that Dream shows up in Hobs living room randomly in the middle of the night at least once and I cannot get the image of him sneaking through his house with like a fucking teapot in his hand and Dream just being like "you think you could hurt Me with a weapon as puny as that"
Anyway happy Sunday and enjoy my weirdass question of the day I guess
i think it's a mix of both, leaning towards the latter. i think hob is probably a scrappy and opportunistic fighter, not to say that he can't use a weapon properly, so to speak, but he's not opposed to using it improperly or using random items as weapons, like he did with the tea tray in 1789. but he does know how to use a variety of weapons correctly and definitely has many weapons hidden in his flat. he's been through too much shit not to 😂. he almost certainly has at the very least an old sword, multiple knives of various types, and at least one illegal gun. they're strategically placed for easy access.
so in summary: if someone breaks into the house hob grabs whatever's closest, but that frequently happens to be an actual weapon 😂
however YES i absolutely need a scene of dream just materializing in hob's bedroom at 3am, and hob, who, we remember, was a soldier for quite a long time and also slept on the streets for like 50 years once, just snaps awake instantly and doesn't think just reacts and yeets the nearest object, which happens to be the nightstand lamp, at dream's head.
dream didn't expect to have something yeeted at his head so he just stands there like an idiot and gets conked by it.
cue hob fussing over him like shit i'm so sorry but also you can't just? appear???? let me see your head do you have a concussion??
and dream is just like. a mere Lamp cannot harm me, Hob. but secretly he's enjoying the attention.
I think THK deserves a big group hug :')
You're right, they do
Oops, I totally forgot to add "Treat!" for the Childe ask I sent earlier!
content warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, vague unsanitary/gross implications, unhealthy... lack of boundaries? worshipping? I don't know how to label this exactly
the first thing you see when you open your eyes is your roommate.
his chin is propped up on his fist and a pleased smile plays at his lips, not even remotely ashamed at how he’s been staring at you while you slept. and honestly, while he’s usually not this bold, you’re not particularly surprised.
what you are surprised at, at least a little, is the "kiss the chef" apron you’d gotten for him several months ago as a joke.
"…isn’t it your birthday?"
he beams, clearly overjoyed. "it is!"
he doesn’t elaborate. you exhale. "I was going to get up early to make you breakfast for once, you know."
"I know," he chuckles, "I turned your alarm off."
you stare at him, at a loss for words. "is… is my cooking that bad?"
he waves you off. "not at all, not at all! I just wanted to do something for you. cooking for you is always my pleasure."
you want to bury your head in your pillow.
"you know you’re meant to be the one being spoiled on your birthday, right?"
"mhm," he moves to stand up. "but this is the first birthday I get to celebrate with you, so I’d like to make it extra special."
sometimes it sounds like he’s known you for much longer than you’ve known him. sometimes, it makes you feel weary and uneasy. other times, like right now, it gives you a headache.
"right. I’ll be up in a couple minutes."
he makes a happy, almost chirping noise, and tells you he’ll be waiting before exiting your room.
you heavily consider going back to sleep before noticing it’s two hours past when you’d wanted to wake up.
unfortunately, ajax’s odd idea of being spoiled doesn’t meet its end during breakfast.
in fact, you’re not really sure what to think about the cake waiting for the both of you, which is clearly your favourite type. there’s a pile of presents to the side of the table, neatly wrapped in what you swear is your favourite colour and not his.
he’s eagerly awaiting something, so you offer him the present you’d gotten him—however meager in comparison to the others—and wish him a happy birthday.
he looks surprised, genuinely surprised, and for a second you think you might’ve gotten him the wrong thing.
"sorry, it’s… a little little, especially compared to the other stuff you’ve gotten, but, um, I hope you enjoy it…?"
he shakes his head before gingerly accepting the gift, holding it gently like he can’t believe it.
he unwraps it with equal care, then beams happily at you and holds the present close to his heart. "thank you, [name]! I’ll treasure this forever."
you’re not sure how to respond to that, so you shoot him and awkward smile and sit down. "I’m glad… I think. it's okay then?"
he smiles at you as if he knows something you don’t. "this is your first gift to me—I’d treasure it even if it was something I hated with all my heart."
"I’d prefer if you told me if you didn’t like something, but okay. I’m glad. I think." you won’t comment on how concerning some of the things he says are.
"anyway," he waves your concerns off, pointing towards… your favourite breakfast meal. "I made your favourite! how is it?"
yeah, okay, you should have seen that one coming.
it’s good, of course, like everything else he cooks. he seems unusually peppy when you tell him that.
"you’re not going to eat?"
"oh no, I already ate earlier." his stomach growls. sheepishly, he averts his eyes. "…I was going to eat your leftovers."
if this were anyone else, you’d question why on earth someone would want to eat leftovers on their birthday. at this point, however, you’re basically a pro at ignoring your roommate’s red flags.
deciding to ignore his comment, you glance at the pile of presents. he notices right away and slides them towards you.
you deadpan. "I’m not going to open your gifts for you."
he blinks. "they’re for you, though?"
he blinks back, seemingly genuinely confused on what part of this situation is weird. "you’ve done so much for me, so I though I should repay you back? did I get too little? I tried limiting myself back since I know this is a little unorthodox, but…"
honestly, you’re not sure why you’re surprised.
what's the one thing that each batkid would say to bruce parents, martha and thomas wayne?
Dick: "If you see John and Mary Grayson, tell them I think of them in everything I do"
Jason: "If you see Sheila Haywood, tell her: I lived, bitch"
Tim: "I got the new Halo Wars game, so tell Bart and Kon to come back. It's not as fun with single-player. Also, tell Jack Drake I sold his expensive whiskey at the Gotham High senior prom for ten bucks"
Damian: "Figures the wrong grandparents are dead"
Duke: "Tell Troy he was voted Best Athlete in the yearbook"
Cullen: "Your son is a full-time vampire furry"
Stephanie: "Nice work. 7/10. Though next time go lighter on the salt"
Cassandra: "So where will you guys be when the Skeleton War happens?"
Barbara: "I've narrowed down the possible suspects responsible for your deaths to five people, but three are on the run and I'm pretty sure one changed their name. I'll get to the bottom of it, though. Just don't say anything to Bruce until then"
Harper: "How exactly did you guys make..." *gestures to Bruce*
Carrie: "I don't have any messages to pass on so... rock on, ghosties" *finger guns*
ace culture is being confused when the media says “oh ace people can’t date people, they’re ace!” because asexuality isn’t a romantic identity in any sense
#onlyingotham that I accidentally dropped my snacks into a pond like a clumsy dumbass, then Killer Croc jumped outta there and ate the entire thing. The fact that he left me alone either means he appreciate it, or he was just full.
I'd love to see Aaron visiting his pre-school teacher girlfriend. I've got a kiddo at work hat literally melts in my arms when mom drops her off with me. Would love to see his response to such a thing. If I could request her being plus size! 🥺💖
hi hi - currently thinking about aaron with a daughter and my heart is melting. also i feel like i write my fics with little to no physical body descriptions (except shorter than aaron bc im short as hell and im kinda into the height difference) -- and i didn’t know exactly how you wanted me to write so i didn’t really lean into anyone’s insecurities, as some fics do, just bc i want to be inclusive since all bodies types are very beautiful.
HOWEVER! may this blurb and all my future writing be something you can relate to.
fem!reader for those wondering <3
It’s one in the afternoon on a sunny Friday when Aaron picks you up from work.
It’s a half day, meaning you get off of work earlier and the kiddos in your class are more energetic than the rest of the week because they know they’re going home early. Your classroom is as colorful as ever, the walls lined with number and alphabet charts, science posters framing the doorway, and art projects from your students hang above their cubbies where their backpacks are stores.
You walk around the room with your hands clasped behind your back and observe as the children tidy their desks, four of which face each other. A few students have to be told to slow down when they start to run because they’re holding colored pencils. Others follow your instructions while a few choose to talk amongst themselves instead of cleaning up.
It’s when they’re reminded their parents are likely waiting outside do the students hurry to clean their spaces. You walk around, one by one, giving each student a high-five when they’ve tucked their papers in their desk’s storage and when their notebooks and other materials are neat and organized. Each student automatically begins to grab their belongings and file in a single line against the wall by the door when you’ve dismissed them from their desk with appraisal for their neatness.
When your students are lined and eager to leave with their hands gripping the straps of their backpacks, you can’t help but smile at the group of children. You swing the door open and remind everyone to walk at an orderly fashion and watch as they exit the front doors into the front area of the building where other teaching aids are waiting.
The kids disperse when they see their parents and you watch from behind as their parents check in with the teaching aids before they go. It’s always amusing to you to witness their little legs climb into their booster seats.
Mary, your longest friend at this school who teaches the third grade, stands next to you.
“Up to anything fun this weekend?” she asks, bumping your cardigan-clad shoulders.
“I’m having a quiet weekend in with my boyfriend and his son,” you say with a grin.
“Ah, the mysterious boyfriend,” Mary says with a laugh.
Aaron’s been a bit of a mystery to your friends at work—always aloof and has never been to teacher-student functions because of his work schedule. You see him quite often given the circumstances but some people think you might be making him up for an excuse to stay at home. Mary’s the only person who’s met Aaron before, but she likes to pretend that your boyfriend is just a figment of your imagination to watch you squirm.
“You’ve met him before, dummy,” you say with a laugh. “Although I’m sure Laura probably thinks I’m making him up.”
“Or she thinks he’s an absolute troll of a guy,” Mary snorts. “It’s no secret that she’s pissed at you for receiving the ‘Teacher of the Year’ award this quarter.”
“She should bring it up with the district, not me,” you say, dusting off your shoulders for dramatic effect. “It feels like she’s had it out for me since day one.”
“Laura has a stick up her ass,” Mary whispers into your ear, which causes you to burst out into a fit of giggles. “Uh oh, the Wicked Witch is here.”
Laura’s on the other end of the pick-up area and you angle yourself so that you’re not facing her. You get a text from Aaron at the same time saying that he’s parked and walking towards the school. You grin at your phone and Mary snickers.
“Shush,” you mutter, knowing you have a lovesick grin on your face.
You spot Aaron across the street, donned in a dark grey suit and expensive shoes and tie to match. His hair flows perfectly in the cool breeze and his strides are long and confident as he crosses the road.
Aaron spots you easily and you keep yourself from sprinting into his arms. Careful to keep it professional at your place of work, Aaron presses a kiss to your cheek and embraces you for a short while, but it’s enough to inhale his cologne.
“Missed you,” Aaron says.
“Good day at work?” you ask.
“Actually yeah, everything went surprisingly well with no hiccups.” Aaron turns his attention to your friend. “Hi Mary, it’s nice to see you again.”
“Hey Aaron,” Mary greets with a wave. “Long time no see.”
Avery, one of your students, politely taps your hip to get your attention.
“What’s wrong, honey?” you asked.
“Can I wait with you?” Avery asks. “Mommy’s late today.”
“Of course, Avery.” You grab her hand when tears start to threaten to spill from her eyes—Avery’s mom works a bit farther than the rest of the parents and it isn’t unusual for her to be a few minutes late to pick her daughter up. But for a child, it feels like eternity.
“Did you like our lesson today?” you ask, bending down to her level while keeping your hands together.
“I really liked learning about dinosaurs!” Avery exclaims as if her worries were never there to begin with.
Aaron’s watching you from beside Mary, an adorning look plastered across his face. He’s too caught up in his fantasies about creating a family with you; Jack’s warmed up to you in the few years you’ve been dating Aaron, but he can’t help but wonder what you’d be like as a mother of your own.
You’re able to get Avery to talk about her interests to keep her from thinking about anything else. She obliges and you squat with a grin as she becomes animated with her storytelling. He makes small talk with Mary, who can clearly see how smitten he is with you, but he doesn’t think he cares too much.
“You guys would make cute kids,” Mary says to Aaron with a nudge.
“Mary,” he warns playfully.
“What good is a friend if not to meddle?” she chides before excusing herself to assist other students.
Avery’s mom arrives a few short minutes after Mary leaves and Aaron watches you greet her mother and send the girl on her way home. He watches with his hands in his pocket and accompanies you back to the classroom once your students have left the school grounds.
Aaron knows he wants kids with you. He just needs to ask you to be his wife first.
what would happen if real tumblr hired you
I'd wake up from the dream/nightmare
Absolutely love your 'take no shit' attitude, keep doing what you're doing, you're a major inspiration 💛💛
Thank you so much!! 💖
Content creators online shouldn't be afraid to tell readers who are being out of line to fuck off, especially IF writers who often put out completely free writing. There's absolutely no reason why strangers online should be able to talk to you that way and not expect some sort of response. If an anon says something rude to you or pisses you off in some way, call it out!
It's a certain amount of entitlement, no doubt based on fanfiction culture where it has become completely normalized to take writers for granted and expect writers to beg for scraps of attention from readers who consume, consume, consume and give no support in return, then get upset when their favorite writers stop writing.
No, I'm not going to edit scenes because you, some random anon online, did not like some imagined aspect of it. No, I'm not going to change how I write my characters because you’re upset that they don't grovel at your MCs feet every five seconds. No, I don't give a shit that you're going to unfollow.
The solution here is simple: stop reading my story. Move onto something else. I don't care 💖
Who's miku's starter pokemon
popplio, only for its later stage as idol brionne
that one "Damn shawty! Ow!" image but its cow al and skunker (vampire bat skunker?)
i dont think id ever seen the "damn shawty OW!" variant til you sent this ask LOL
do you think louis has penis implants