#I never wanted to fuck a man so bad

[hyukqi]

size training with soobin !!! 😵‍💫

(lawd help me im lightheaded just by imagining it)

soobin lying back against the headboard with one hand brushing his messy hair back and the other with a loose grip on your waist. sweat dripping down his forehead while he has an cocky smile across his face scanning your body up and down as you straddle his hips. whimpering quietly “b-bin…” while he coos softly “shhh.. come on pretty girl, you can take it, can you?” >_<

lifting your hips to align his cockhead with your sopping entrance, feeling overwhelmed with his intimidating demeanor that turns you oh so subby for him !!! gasping with short “ah”s and “hnn..!!”s while you sink down on him feeling his thick, long, girthy cock scrape your insides… he’s too big you can barely take his tip in!!

“too much…” with sobs pouring from your mouth and tears pooling in your eyes before they drip onto his toned body. “so good for me baby… it can fit ‘m promise, tight pussy ‘s sucking on it so well…” soobin murmurs enamored by how fucking hot you look forcing your pretty pussy down his massive cock. god he’s so soft with you but at the same time you want to wipe off his stupid smirk that revels in your desperation.

going so dumb on his cock shuddering once you sink down completely, moaning loudly at his girth rubbing against your gummy walls and tip resting right against that one bundle of nerves <33 god you might as well see his bulge protruding your stomach. “fuck… good girl… my good girl.. so small and tiny” lips pressed against your neck, behind your ear, and trailing to your jaw..

hah… he’s such a boob guy so soobin would definitely massage your breasts mouthing at your nipples while you ride him !! sloppily rutting against him and lifting your hips just to slam down on his huge cock leaving you both in shambles but only one grows increasingly desperate “nnnghh~~!! b-bin… soobin… p-please just ah!” soobin softly biting your nipples with his hands guiding you down and him thrusting upward at the same time making you arch back in sweet pleasure @_@

what a stupid baby you are… babbling incoherent whines and moans while he puts in all the effort into molding you into his personal cocksleeve. so so dumb for him and his big cock that you end up cumming too quickly with your juices gushing out from under, coating him with your sticky mess <333 and if you thought you were done, you are so wrong !!!

“came so fast already.. you can give me another, mm?” soobin suddenly pushing you down and hovering over with your legs hooked on his shoulders. sounds of skin smacking fill up the entire room while he deliciously ruts his dick against your pussy with eyes closed to concentrate on fucking his girlfriend dumb.

he still has yet to cum too yknow?

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[b4kuch1n]

siren

[ibeewashere]

I genuinely cannot describe how deeply DEVASTATED I am about riz being the only one who can take stress tokens for the others. Yes fig is a protector and will fight endlessly for her friends and I love that about her but there is something about the way riz loves his friends. It’s a more subtle kind of love, but just as relentless and passionate and he will take any burden for the people he cares about and bear the weight of it on his shoulders so they don’t have to deal with it without any hesitation. I am ILL.

[just-null-cult]

How do we feel about Beach wear Noritoshi....

Everyone thinks he'd go covered head to toe wearing those wet suits divers use, but no. Noritoshi isn't the type to want to attract attention to himself when it's not needed, so he'd try to blend in. Emphasis on try.

He's the guy wearing a covering or some shit. I think you'd have to fight him to wear a translucent one. (if you splash him with water, you'll acheive the same effect thoughahahaha) even though it's a beach, he's trying to find an appropriate way to cover up, hes just like that. yes to sunscreen ofc. I can see him in a sun hat, but it's not his.. maybe he took it from one of the girls

HIS HAIR WOULD BE UP BC ITD BE TOO HOT AND THE SUN HAT WOULD HELP HIM FROM GETTING OVERHEATED H.H....H IS FACE WOULD BE FLUSHED BC OF THE HEAT AND. AND. AND.. he's like the beach babe on the shore, soaking up the sun and reading a book or smth. if you splash him with water, i can see him trying to get you back. then boom bam, hes in the water with everyone else.

OH FUCK that's even IF he goes to the beach. it's like seeing God in the flesh, idk man I'd go blind........... hed probably come along when he realizes theres hot people at the beach. he cant have you looking at people in that state, hold on hes going. give him five minutes..!

EXTRA

[untied covering version under the cut. like his booefjehsaf are out aha.]

ahahahahahahahahaa *froths at the mouth*

mf dont even begin to look at me like that

[natelia-aldelliz]

more ghost!Roach with accidental necromancer Soap, their first interaction !

(please ignore the fact that i can't draw the same character twice lmao)

[lifeintheworldtocome]

your WHAT shirt came

my fnaf lobotomy shirt of course

[eclecticopposition]

give meee... headcanons about the Sangfielle friends in the most boring AU you can imagine like. idk. office Sangfielle. grocery store Sangfielle. they all work at a movie theater. whatever sounds mundane as hell and you have Thoughts about :3

okay tumblr ate my fucking answer the first time. let's try this again.

the thing about these guys is that no matter how mundane you make it, they can make anything into a situation. that's just the guys they are. so we put them in a Walmart.

Marn is an employee with a great customer service voice. She's keeping it together in the face of some truly wild statements and requests. One man keeps asking for frootie hooties, a brand of cereal that he insists is real and everyone is just refusing to sell to him, and she's spent twenty minutes trying to tell him that they just don't have it in stock

Lye and Es are having an animated conversation in the clothing area, where she is examining various colorful dresses and he is distractedly picking things off of nearby shelves and putting them back down. The conversation started at how they got kicked out of dayward yve's novelty store and is now about whether stealing should be more or less of a crime than manslaughter, because it's not as bad as killing but it is on purpose. People are trying not to pay attention to them. Eventually they are asked to leave, at which point it is revealed that lye has about two hundred dollars worth of items in his pockets and es has some candles she liked and a new pair of shoes in hers. They are both barred from Walmart.

Duvall hates it here. It's loud, he hates the lights, the aisles make no sense, he can't find anything he's looking for, and people keep coming up to him to ask him where things are. He doesn't even work here. Why do people assume he works here? He's not even wearing any Walmart merchandise. Is that what it's called when you're an employee? Merchandise? Well, it's what it would be called if he wears it, which he never will, because he doesn't work here and never wants to. Have a nice day ma'am.

Pickman is slowly marching her way through the aisles one at a time, peering at her shopping list and holding a tiny shopping basket in one hand. She has to be very careful not to knock the shelves over sometimes. Just trying to get groceries. People are nervously avoiding her. Says "Hey, you" to some poor employee to ask where the milk and cigarettes are. Just grunts at everything else. When she's at the checkout, the guy there asks "Did you find everything you're looking for?", and she just says "No." and leaves

Chine comes out of the bathroom with a live rat in his hand. People scream. The manager finally comes up to him like "Sir, you can't have rats in here." They say "Oh, she's not mine. She was just having trouble opening the door." Gets a big meat on the bone at the deli and nothing else. When he asks how much it costs, they just say it's on the house and try to get him to leave as soon as possible. They go like "Oh, really? Are you sure? I have some money." and sound surprised but pleased, like they're being done a personal favor. The employees insist. He's like "Alright, thanks!" and then asks the rat if she wants anything

[illegiblehandwriting1]

frankly i think the best way to differentiate fanon sky and canon sky is to take a look at groose's redemption arc. both forgive him for the bullying but fanon sky says "he didn't mean it!" Canon sky says "i deserved it"

(for reference, canon sky is sky as shown in the game/inferred directly from sksw)

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

I wanna know ur Fontaine msq criticisms 👁️👁️👂I’m all ears

I'm not sure if you wanted me to talk about this secretly or publicly but! Here I go!

The TLDR: Fontaine MSQ aestheticised prison, poverty, child abuse, the justice system/court and didn't properly address any of it.

More:

Focalors/Furina has way too much of a sympathetic angle for a dictator who's lets people drown with her inaction.

Neuvillette feels Bad for sentencing some people to death/prison, but that's it. He's one of the most powerful people in Fontaine. If he felt like there are systemic injustices, I.E sending an abused Child to prison, he should be the first person to DO something about it, not just cry and be sad so the audience can be like aw, that's complex character writing isn't it? No it's not! And guilt doesn't absolve you!!!!!!! (These are stuff we deal with in OTCOJ read my fic now /j)

Meropide has children in it, both Sentenced there (Wriothesley) and BORN THERE (Lanoire), and this is just a quirk of the place. Not only that, Meropide accepts prisoners of all genders and crimes. There are abusers and abuse victims in one place. Do you know how bad that is? How much potential for crimes to happen in a place like that— oh wait, Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. If you are assaulted as an inmate it literally means nothing to the court.

Wriothesley had no qualifications when he took over. Depending on how long he lived on the streets, how old he was when he killed his parents, how old he was when he was first taken in by the orphanage, etc, the man might never have more than 4–5 years of formal education. Sigewinne probably had to teach him how to write reports. And do Meropide's spreadsheets. Edit because I forgot to elaborate on this one: This isn't a point brought up anywhere, which is bad, because when poverty and incarceration robs you of a proper education (and the rights to vote in many places too, too, by the way), it reduces your prospects for jobs, reduces many people's ability to get a home etc etc. Wriothesley was just, narratively, Given his position.

Meropide is an industrialized prison, and they portray this as a good thing. Prisoners are paid in coupons for their labour, and this is also portrayed as a good thing.

The One-Meal-A-Day reform was something Paimon gushed about being so great of a perk, that people might want to go to jail for food (could be interesting and reflective of systemic poverty if MHY had brains, but they don't, so I was just Pissed because essentially all Paimon wanted to say was "Prison isn't so bad, but still don't go to prison guys! Prison labour is really hard!"). By the way, in most real-world prisons they are obligated to feed you three meals a day. Because that's how much food a human needs. MHY went with one meal just so they can say "if you want to eat more, you have to work." And then the welfare meal is a goddamn gacha. So imagine you're a starving child who's too weak to work in the fucking robot assembly line, and you wander up for your first meal in 24 hours, only to luck in with a shit one. I'd kill myself.

They wrote Wriothesley, who's a victim of the system, into a guy who's say shit like "I'm the Duke I can do whatever I want" for a cool moment where he choke-slams an inmate (I know he was a bad guy. But also, in copaganda when cops are violent/disregarding protocols, they are always only portrayed to do that against bad guys, so what does our critical thinking tells us about this one?) They wrote Wriothesley, who was an inmate of a prison so bad, so notorious that it is the literal boogeyman of Fontaine, that has a legal (???) fighting pit, with an administrator who abuses his position to be unreasonable, to willingly stay in the place and become an Administrator who would choke-slam an inmate while saying a cool line about how he has the power to do whatever he wants. They wrote him, the guy who had to be fed on the streets by melusines, to think one-meal-a-day was a good enough reform (while he spends god-knows how much on his boat). This wasn't a victim-turns-into-abuser narrative either, they want all this to be seen as positive character growth.

And then, the final kicker is, they gloss over his entire abuse. You can only read about these shit in his profile, which most people don't because they don't Have Him or doesn't care to unlock it/read it online, and they jammed his entire backstory into a flaccid info-dump at the end of his character story quest. This man isn't Allowed to feel abused and neglected and show any reaction to it within the narrative of Fontaine itself, because if they actually Gave Weight to what happened to him, they'd have to confront THE FUCKING JUSTICE SYSTEM they had NO PLANS on criticising. I don't think they ever explicitly said the fucking Crime-Theatre nonsense was Bad either.

I could go on, but this is already so long. But yeah, I hope this gave you an idea.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Fuck I hate being an adult. I need a more adult adult to help with the volatile emotional situation.

[zeb-z]

The thing about Forever and Bad is that they don't know how to deescalate, and they start at 100 straight from 0 every time with each other. They will spend hours arguing about semantics that don't matter. They will go to the extreme ends of pranks (which as fun as the audio remixes were, spending hours trying to find the source was literal hell genuine psychological torment). They will go for the throat just to antagonize the other.

So no, I don't think Forever knows a thing about Dapper or the other eggs whereabouts. He just knows better about the way Bad operates, the way he lies and deflects. He's familiar with his crafty words and how he turns a conversation on its head. He knows that what Bad is being accused of is entirely likely, that he is not who he usually is when the eggs are around. And he knows that Dapper, beyond a shadow of a doubt, is who Bad cares for most of all.

This isn't something he can argue hours about, to chip away little by little like he usually does. For both the safety of the worker, because the longer they're locked up surely the worse off they'll be - and for the safety of Bad, who if he wasn't under extreme watch by the Federation, he certainly is now, after Tubbo very loudly accused him in his Federation office.

He goes for the throat, immediately playing a trump card that he knows Bad won't just brush off or ignore, because as much as Bad can be unpredictable, Forever knows that Bad cares about the eggs as much as he does. As questionable as his morals are, as slippery as he can be to pin down, Bad has always placed the eggs as the highest priority - and he needs Bad to have no choice but to be honest, or to knock him off guard enough that he'll give him something to work with.

Is it fair? Maybe not. But when has Bad ever played fair with him?

[xappetites]

one thing leads to another

Russell Adler x f!Reader (Bell) | Adler is half convinced Bell's using tenderness as a battering ram on purpose, he also needed someone to understand him more than he would ever admit, shit's fucked but that's par for the course, as always i sort of added a year between finding Bell and the rest of the game | word count: 1,672

London is a mess, but then again, all cities are. And this one has the benefit of both being friendly ground but not exactly home, in case the whole thing goes sideways. 

Besides, it’s not like Adler’s an amateur. He wouldn’t have started this game without the certainty that he’d be able to handle it, roll with all of the possible outcomes. 

No, this was calculated. 

He purposely picked the side of town where metro police drag their feet, no matter how urgent the call. And he’s carrying a trusty sedative in a hypodermic needle retrofitted into a pen, so all he really needs to worry about is Bell.

Quite frankly, Bell’s all he’s been worrying about for the past eight months, though for the most part he can justify it as just another job hazard. The rest he blames on being a sexually active human with an average libido and moderately good circulation. 

Sure, he’s seen her bleeding out, sweat drenched and bruised from several rounds of interrogation. Feverish, mumbling, staring into his soul like she could tear into him with her eyes alone. And she still slides silk soft over the ridges of his brain.

It was easy to ignore, all things considered; in that dark room with nothing but the microphone and the bell. To watch her, past whatever attraction he can’t shake, looking closely for results. But now she’s out in the world, fully convinced that she’s known him for decades; now she remembers a different Russell Adler. The one he was before the crooked line of his life proved to him that he wasn’t one for an easy ride; the man who would banter mid firefight, with the kind of gusto that makes him roll his eyes coming from Park and Lazar over comms. 

And sure, that means she’s comfortable enough to follow his instructions without much back-talk and she's amenable enough that she’ll take initiative to do what’s best for the mission on her own. She’s efficient and useful; and she claws that old playfulness out of him kicking and screaming. Even if he tries to resist, to ignore her easy jabs, the gallows humor, it’s those damn eyes and the light of affection in them that forces him to respond just to focus on something else.

It’s so obvious that even Sims commented on it, how he hadn’t heard chatter like that from him in years. So maybe that’s why Adler wanted this meeting to be private; why he asked Bell to slip away from Park when he called. Selling it as an added challenge when he dared her to find him in London with nothing to go on but the arrival time of his flight. A test of skill and loyalty.

Just as Park’s had Bell here for a week. Officially, for a briefing of the few leads MI6 has in Berlin. Off the record, offering proof of concept to the powers that be: one shining, sweet success to prove what programming can do. Work. That’s what’s behind Adler standing alone in a no name club, not the impulse to hog Bell all to himself, or the unspeakable notion that he misses her.

He’s too professional to let it show, and he knows what needs to be done, but that’s the filthy truth of him, the way his hands itch for skin on skin contact. The manufactured familiarity that allows her to touch him all the time —hands solid on his shoulders or her thigh pressed against his in the back of a cab. All the more tempting for being forbidden. More nagging in the back of his mind because he’s stealing her from the man he’s hunted for so long. 

The sensation makes Adler lay his palms flat on the bar top, check his watch. All he can do at the moment is wait. 

Two more minutes to his midnight meeting with Bell. Two minutes that are nothing in the grand scheme of his standing stakeout record of several months. Minutes that he watches tick like molasses over his wrist. Anticipation settling horrible in the pit of his stomach with the possibility that, once out of Park’s watchful eye, Bell will abscond back to Perseus. And won’t that be a fun one to explain. A betrayal he can already taste, that hurts in a way that it shouldn’t. Burning as it goes down like the whiskey that’s suddenly shoved his way over the bar. 

“I didn’t order this.”

“Your missus said you looked thirsty.”

The bartender tosses a wry smile his way too, nodding in the general direction of a very smug Bell. Who, at least, has the decency not to appear out of the smoke like this is a private eye movie, she just simply is there, close enough to touch, when she wasn’t the second before.

“You made it,” he greets her, watches her grin grow slow and tilted over her mouth. Her hips angled to squeeze in next to him, lean her weight on the bar and steal a sip off his drink. And Adler hates how proud he sounds, how his shoulders lose tension when she takes the first, poison-taster gulp of liquor like a half apology for ambushing him. 

“You doubted it?” 

“Park can be hard to sidestep.”

Bell outright giggles then, smile blinding in her satisfaction, but she doesn’t offer anything else. She won’t spoil the magician’s trick. 

“So what’s your story?” She asks instead, dipping closer still, until Adler can feel the ghostly touch of her hair against his cheek. “If this were to go tits up. Who are you tonight?”

“Well, you already told the bartender, I’m your husband.”

“Got you sore about that?”

There’s laughter in Bell’s voice, a tease of her fingertips straightening the collar of his jacket. Of course he’s fucking sore, with the way the thought goes right between his legs, aches in the pit of his stomach. Here with her lips on the rim of his glass, her body nudging insistently into his personal space like picking at a wound.

“Just wondering how believable it’d be for me to have a wife so beautiful.”

“Please, Russ, you’re the most attractive man I know.”

She moves, digging out a cigarette and flagging the bartender for an ashtray, and the extra inch of distance is such a deep relief that it takes Adler half a second to realize she’s smoking when they were supposed to have culled that out of her.

“I thought you’d quit,” he tries, as a thin, icy stream of uncertainty slides down his spine. He tries to be rational, smoking is the least dangerous of Bell’s old habits; complicated by the physiological dependence on nicotine to boot. This doesn’t have to be a sign of impending doom, he just has to keep an eye on it.

“In this line of work? It wasn’t meant to last,” she pauses, takes a drag and holds the smoke for long enough to notice she’s having his exact brand, familiar and comforting. “Besides, you give me cravings.”

The eyes, it’s always the fucking eyes. The way they catch on his scar, climbing along until she’s staring him down with nothing but open, honest desire, and a sort of sadness underneath. Like she’s given up on the magnetic pull she feels for him as soon as she admits to it.

Bell knows he’d put the job above anything, knows that’s what nuked his marriage. She knows because he told her, made her privy to things the likes of Sims only suspect. It was easy too, once he got started, to let the words get away from him; maybe not during the first session, but by the twentieth? The fiftieth? He’d find himself in the jungle of Vietnam and in the weeds of his personal hang ups all the same. 

We fought together, bled together. 

A mantra that to a degree poisoned him too. Enough to make him need this, once at the very least, to hold Bell steady by the back of the neck, tasting the smoke and the surprise on her lips. Then he has to do it again, since Bell’s crushing the cigarette out so she can pull herself closer by his lapels, run her fingers through his hair with a whisper of ‘fuck Russ’. And he is absolutely fucked in so many ways.

Fucked in the ease of walking beside her back to his hotel. And in how she sighs against his mouth when her cold hands sneak under clothes in the elevator. Adler feels his heart beating in double time as he finally works himself inside her, inch by inch so he can’t hide from this. He could regret it, he already does, as he struggles to make this last as long as he can, but he can never pretend it didn’t happen. 

He’ll always have the way she clings to him, his name stumbling out of her when he hits the angle that makes her melt, to weigh on his conscience. He’ll keep coming back to her shoulder, still slick from the shower as he rested his forehead on it, because that was the third time he’d come that night and it never lost its edge to feel her around him.

These are the things Adler knows will haunt him. Keep him up at night until he finds the next excuse to have her, in a different hotel and a different city, with the same burning desperation.

And it’s what he sees, clear as day, playing in her mind that night as he tries to drag Perseus’ location out of her. Every kiss and every single time he drew meaningless shapes over her skin while she was curled up against his side.

The way he demands the information but has not let go of her hand, the fact that they both know how this ends. And he can only fucking hope, with her brilliant eyes burning through him again, that she can forgive him for falling for her.

[bittsandpieces]

-

[readinglistfics]

it’s so bad rn yall. i cant stop thinking about him. old man thrawn. i keep opening tumblr and scrolling through the tags every 10 minutes. i look at reddit and comment on every thrawn post about how hot he is to me. idk why but he’s just so…

i cant get him out of my mind. why does this old man have me in such a grip what the hell like i actually really desire him carnally and yes ik he’s old and literally my grandfather’s age but why do i wanna fuck him.

like literally why is my pussy wet just thinking about thrawn someone answer me !!!!!

i need to be spayed bc im my legs are spread and im humping the air just thinking about him

(horny hours - i hope lars mikkelsen doesnt think too poorly of me 😭)

[girldewar]

thinkin about the deweys . as always