Tumgik
#I swear its not because i want to fuck them both
mrsunder · 3 days
Text
Ever since I made that post about Alone with the little joke about him being Ghoap baby I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.
Like imagine Soap (who isn't dead because fuck activision) finding this hulking monster while doing zombie clean up and thinking it's Ghost at first but Laswell swears up and down (and even shows him proof) that Ghost is safe. After he sees his own familiar tattoo and the unmoving arm he thought was just shadowed behind its back was actually darker skinned... he realizes what it is and is both SUPER PISSED and hesitant.
He knows what these monsters can do… but he can't bring himself to kill Ghost even if it's not actually him. He'd never sleep again if he had to put a bullet between Ghost's eyes himself. (he didn't think about the arms, didn't want to think too hard about what they were trying to do that resulted in a three headed monster and signs of the entire 141 on its body) So he just sits down in the room he found it in, stays close and lets the thing engage first while trying to be as little of a threat as possible. (It's the STUPIDEST thing he's ever done and Ghost absolutely tell him that as loudly as possible when they eventually meet up again) It takes a while, but when it sees his tattoo and realizes they share a mark on their skin Alone decides that Soap is clearly Like Him and now Soap has his very own Giant Murder Child. He goes back to the 141 because he can't keep doing what he's doing while also trying to care for Alone with just the hands off help Laswell can provide and the only reason they have a Calm Discussion and they don't all throttle him for faking his death is because said murder child doesn't quite understand different levels of violence and would just assume they're attacking him. It obviously takes a while for them to really get behind having Alone around (especially Ghost for REALLY OBVIOUS REASONS) but eventually they all realize he's got some kind of humanity in him. He was able to be taught to use a gun and doesn't just run around killing everyone he gets his hands on like the other monsters they were shown after Soap's return. While he has issues speaking because of damage to his body and how the side heads attach to the main one, they're able to teach him to read, write, and how to use BSL. It's slow going, but they make progress. Soap retires to a nice secluded place after a while so he can dedicate more time to helping Alone. Ghost follows along behind him because he's not going to let Johnny out of his sight ever again. (Price and Gaz visit often because Ghost wasn't the only one waking up from nightmares of Soap's "death") Alone will be as close to a fully functional person as he can be (what with the multiple heads, arms, random body jerking, and being a literal monster making it a bit hard to just go get a normal 9 to 5). He just needs to be taught what he missed because he was "born" fully grown. He'd probably either take up Soap's place with Laswell and get to go happily rip zombie heads off or join Kortac because they make a him a damn good offer (and if he threatens to tear out the throat of anyone that so much as looks at the 141 wrong, well that's just between him and his fellow operators).
108 notes · View notes
Text
So um...I wonder what would happen if Scarecrow and Dream of the Endless battled it out...who would win and why? Genuinely curious. 👀
Like what if they fought over fem!reader and decided to work together on her or something
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
46 notes · View notes
whatimdoing-here · 2 years
Text
Kids normally take showers now, but small fry has strep and flu both so when he asked for a bath I was like whatever you want kid. But nothing like a bath to really show you how long and skinny your kid is and you definitely have two KIDS and now babies, toddlers, preschoolers... Those stages are gone never to come back.
#and it's one thing to worry about fucking them up as babies (did i hold you too much should i have let you be more independent)#and toddlers (they both fell down at least half a flight of stairs made them both cry with an outburst once)#and preschoolers (i swear to zweet JESUS IF YOU DO NOT STOP WHINING never actually came out of my mouth but it came close)#but kids... i for sure am too tough on t dude and probably not hard enough on small fry and i worry I haven't taught them enough about#being kind and loving to everyone while also standing up for others and needing to get consent from people#and like stand up for what you believe but be careful what enemies you make because god knows if that person has a gun#like thinking about all of it its impossible to do all of it#and watching them make mistakes is hard seeing them disappointed is hard#should i have intervened did i just cause a fork in the road that will make life infinitely harder?#wow this escalated quickly#i had a great childhood my parents are amazing but not without issue but i don't fault them at all#the current problems I'm facing in my brain are all mine and nothing they did#but what if... i fuck up my kids#I would not trade these two for anything they mean absolutely everything to me#and I know why i wanted more#but it is not for the feint of heart and i will never fault anyone for not wanting to have kids#just like I would hope people don't fault me for choosing to have kids#anyway#sorry about this#personal nonsense
9 notes · View notes
computerpeople · 1 year
Text
my mom got very very drunk yesterday and she's an aggressive drunk, not physically but it amplifies her anger and irritation by like 6, and she's already a very very explosive and volatile woman. she got in a fight with her boyfriend and was screaming and drove off to the middle of nowhere and that's why my sister called and im so proud of her for reaching out and asking me to call, and i think she is too, she said she wants to call me more for sure and wants to ask more, and that she felt a lot better after we called. that feels good for me, even if im worrying about it now, at her age i didn't have anyone to turn to or call, so im glad i get to be that for her. i fucking hate my parents man
#my mom is so.#shes just not well man. she isn't healthy#neither is my dad.#working on myself away from them has gotten so scary because. holy shit. holy shit they are. like. broken people. not in the sad way but#like in a 'how how the fuck did you get this far in life without dying. how. how did you fucking do that'#my dad aparently hates his job and wants to quit because and i quote 'the teenage workers wont clean up after themselves'#and now he 'has to' deal with that at home AND at work#and i swear hes makingf it up in his head because literally he is a hoarder and insane and expected all of us to keep the house with him in#it cleaned without him actually putting in any effort. so i assume thats what happening at his job too but thats so baffling because its li#llike how are you a grown man fucking acting like this at your minimum wage job#how .#youre fucking inane#anyways everyones scared he might kill himself too so now ive gotta worry abotu BOTH parents killing themself#and even when i moved he was lkike we need to talk about where my moneys going if i die before youre twenty four#and of course i was like. huh!? i dont think youre going to...?#and he was like yeah we just gotta make sure though#HUH?!#but i assumed thats bexcause fucking everyone has us brainwashed that hes going to die of a heart attack#i brought that up with my sister too i was like. i swear its not even a real threat but everyones always freaking out about it but hes#literally never had heart problems and has fantastic blood tests other than slightly high cholestoral. its literally just because my step#moms dad died of a heart attack and she proojected it onto him and said i was going to give him one#and now my entire family is convinced thats how hes going to die#but my sister said my mom took her to my dads house at one point and he didnt answer the doorbell for HOURS#he was asleep but while drivbing away my mom was like 'phew i thought we were going to walk in on him dead'#BROOO WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT TO YOUR 16 YEAR OLD DAUGHTER WITH OCD AND PTSD FUCK OFFFFFF#I HATE YOU#txt
2 notes · View notes
cmedics-hell · 1 year
Text
ok i HAVE to make a system update post because shit has gotten insane over here.
so we recently split TBTF medic. along with the existing tbtf cmedic and tbtf cheavy fictives. this is a Problem. NOT because theyre all trying to kill each other (although that is. also true (long story)) but because we ALREADY HAVE A TF2 MEDIC FICTIVE. and i CANT FUCKING TELL THEM APART MOST OF THE TIME. so now Medic Original (non tbtf medic) is forced to wear blue all the time because otherwise they look Almost Identical. i hear one of them say something and i have to wonder if its the more normal Medic Original or the much more deranged TBTF Medic and its HORRIBLE
3 notes · View notes
gothgoblinbabe · 14 days
Text
The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony
Logan Howlett x afab!reader
Tumblr media
Summary: You can’t stand each other, so it’s a mystery to you and Logan why you’re sent out together on an assignment. To make it worse, you’d have to act much closer than you really were.
Warnings:  mutant!reader (no specific power mentioned, though), afab!reader, enemies to lovers, swearing,  fake dating (technically fake marriage), mentions of violence, a little bit of suggestive stuff, a little bit of fluff i guess, and mild alcohol consumption. I think that's all but if i missed any, please let me know! also this is def loosely inspired by the movies 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' and '10 Things I Hate About You'
Word Count: 5K
part 2
・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ .
You hate the way he dresses.
You hate his stupid hair.
You hate the pet names he calls you.
You hate his voice.
You hate his hazel eyes.
You hate his smile.
You hate Logan Howlett.
It was no secret and neither was the fact that he couldn’t stand you either. You bickered like a married couple, constantly fought till you bled when you were training and couldn’t go a day without one of you insulting the other. Truthfully, it was probably because you were too alike - fire versus fire - and knew exactly how to press each other's buttons.
That’s why you were both confused when you stood in Charles’ office - dumbfounded expression on your faces - as he told you that he assigned you to a mission together.
“Oh, no way,” you nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke.
“Yeah, not happening,” Logan agreed. It may have been the only thing you’ve ever agreed on.
“That’s unfortunate for both of you, as I am sending you anyway. You are the only capable people that aren’t already out on an assignment or teaching a class full time.”
“How do you expect us to do it without killing each other?” you raised your eyebrows.
“You are adults. I trust you will navigate that on your own.”
Logan scoffed beside you, his arms crossed over his chest.
You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and biting the bullet, “what do we have to do?”
“There is a safe hidden in the home of a very wealthy socialite who’s been involved in orchestrating attacks on mutants - injecting them with a serum that replaces their mutation gene with that of a normal human,” Charles began to explain.
Your chest felt heavy. It always made you anxious and a little ill when you’d hear the stories of people who hated you so much that they’d go as far as to harm or violate you in some way, all in the name of trying to rid the earth of you completely or turn you into one of them.
“The only known sample of the serum is locked in that safe,” he continued, “and I will need you to retrieve it. You are to infiltrate a gathering being held in her home, obtain the contents of the safe and return promptly.”
“So, we’re��going to a party?” Logan asked with one eyebrow raised.
“A dinner party,” Charles replied, “and another thing - you must not attend as yourselves. You’ve been invited on the good word of another guest - someone we trust - but you’ve been invited as a married couple to avoid arousing suspicion.”
He must’ve been getting some sick enjoyment from this.
“Married couple,” you repeated, your eyes narrowed, “Us. You want us to pretend to be a couple.”
“What, do I have to like - touch her? I’m not doing that,” Logan piped up.
“Oh, i’m so disappointed,” you rolled your eyes, sarcasm clear in your voice, “Fuck off.”
“You fuck off.”
“No, you fuck off.”
“No, you.”
“I said it first!”
“Enough,” Charles interrupted, “you will be attending as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”
“Huh,” Logan hummed, “that’s creative.”
“Its inconspicuous,” he replied.
“What are our first names, then?”
“You have creative liberty. I trust you will come up with something just as unremarkable.”
“How about Sid and Nancy?” you scoffed, chuckling a little in disbelief. 
“Does that mean I get to stab you?”
“You’d miss.”
Charles had his head in his hands.
“How about Jack and Jill?”
You both turned your heads to him when he spoke, pausing the back and forth between you that you were sure to continue later. You glanced at Logan and shrugged, indifferent to the names.
“That’ll work,” Logan mirrored your actions.
“Lovely. Tomorrow evening at five. I will have the address ready. In the meantime, here,” he opened his palm and placed two rings on the table, “these are your wedding bands.”
You huffed and took the smaller of the two, Logan picking up the plain silver band. Yours was simple - a false diamond in the middle and two smaller ones on each side.
“What, you couldn’t get me anything bigger?” you joked to Logan, holding up the ring. 
“Oh, you want somethin’ big?”
Your eyes went wide and you elbowed him in the arm, groaning in disgust, “Gross.”
—----------------
Five o’clock came fast, your nerves seemingly increasing the speed of time. You’d made a mess of your wardrobe looking for something to wear that was comfortable, but not too ‘you’. What would a rich person wear to a dinner party? How the hell were you supposed to know?
Some nice pants, a blouse and complimenting shoes would have to do - it was the only thing you had that looked relatively formal. Adding some jewelry made it just a little more convincing. 
You went down the stairs to meet Logan at the front door, dreading the coming hours. You turned the corner and finally saw him, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He wore a white t-shirt tucked into his jeans, his boots, and he’d traded his usual leather jacket for a suit jacket. He actually cleaned up pretty nice, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.
He heard your footsteps and turned towards the sound. He could feel the sweat starting to form at the back of his neck. 
He’d never seen you in anything nice like that - you never really had any occasions to dress up for - and he hated how much he liked it. Your pants hugged you perfectly, your blouse was buttoned low and you even had on a little bit of makeup. 
“You don’t look too bad,” he managed to comment, opening the door for you.
“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you realized aloud, the both of you heading towards Logan’s truck, “You look alright.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Smith.”
He opened the car door for you, uncharacteristically gentlemen-like.
You shot him an odd look and got in anyway.
“I’m practicing,” He explained, shutting your door and walking around to slide into his seat, “can’t have anyone thinkin’ I’m a shit husband.”
“Good luck.”
“Uh-oh,” Logan had an amused expression, his eyes glued to the road as you began moving, “that’s not wife behavior, sunshine.”
“Bite Me.”
He clicked his tongue, “Feisty. Oh - I can use that when people ask about us! I’ll say it's one of your absolute worst qualities that any man would be repulsed by, but that our love is blind.”
You scoffed, “Great, and I’ll get to tell them you spend sixteen hours brushing your hair into cat ears and shed all over the bathroom like an animal.”
“See - now, that one seems a little personal.”
“It is.”
“Just pretend for a night that I’m the man of your dreams, okay?” he asked, “pretend I’m, uh - I don’t know, some celebrity guy you have a crush on.”
You were silent for a second, engrossed in thought, “you look nothing like Hugh Jackman.”
“Who? You know what - sure, pretend I'm him, alright? Just squint.”
Truthfully - and you’d rather be stabbed than admit it - Logan wasn’t far off from who you could picture yourself with. Strong, kind of handsome, good with kids. He was humble, most of the time. He was just terribly annoying and way too cocky.
It wasn’t long before he was shifting the truck into park and yanking the keys from the ignition. You let him open your door and walked beside him up the front steps.
“You ready, Jack?” you teased.
“Ready as I’ll ever be, Jill.”
He rang the doorbell and you stood awkwardly, eyes scanning your surroundings. The house was huge - probably only a bit smaller than the mansion - and modern, something probably built in the last ten years. The front lawn was impeccable, as were the marble statues strategically placed between foliage and flora. 
The door opened and you inhaled sharply, trying to prepare yourself to lie your ass off.
“Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Smith! So lovely to meet you, please - come in,” a woman ushered you in, her neck and ears decorated in pearls. You recognized her immediately, Charles having shown you both a picture of the hostess beforehand. You politely greeted her and introduced yourselves, already scanning the room for an emergency exit in case things went sour.
“So,” she continued talking, leading you to sit in the living room with the other mingling guests,”tell me a little about yourselves! John wasn’t very descriptive when he mentioned you. What do you do for work?”
Whoever John was, you silently thanked him.
“Uh, well,” you began, nervously glancing at Logan, “I’m a bank teller.”
Plain, boring, inconspicuous, 
She then looked to Logan expectantly, awaiting his answer. 
“Cage fighter.”
Jesus Christ. You were glaring daggers into the side of his smiling face and he pretended not to notice.
“Really?” the woman in front of you inquired, a hand on her chest. You watched her eyes scan him up and down, landing on the pecs prominent through his shirt. You scoffed out of instinct, faking a cough to cover it up.
‘Oh, yeah. Undefeated MMA champ.”
You looked away to hide the scowl on your face when your eyes locked on the vodka bottle sitting on the table a few feet away with a collection of other booze. Bingo.
“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” you smiled politely and walked away before Logan could protest, leaving him to his own devices.
You twisted the top off the bottle and picked up a glass, filling it with Vodka and some soda that was left on the table.You almost walked away with it, planning to keep it in your hands until you felt your nerves subside, until you remembered you were supposed to be a wife. Wives brought their husbands drinks, right? Not doing so would look rude and rude might blow your cover. So, you reluctantly picked up another glass and filled it partially with whiskey, knowing it was something he’d drink. You happened to glance across to the kitchen and notice a neat little rack of spices and condiments on the counter. A bottle of soy sauce was front and center, like a message from the universe, and you giggled to yourself as you snatched the bottle and hid it up your sleeve - this could be a good night if you made it entertaining.
You returned to Logan with both glasses, handing him the one filled with significantly darker liquid. He looked a little surprised but accepted it anyway.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with narrowed eyes, a look that asked ‘what are you up to now?’
You simply nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at the hostess still standing in front of you.
“She’s a keeper,” he continued, holding the glass up to his mouth, “ always knows exactly what I like.”
You bit back a snicker as you watched him tilt the glass and finally take a sip.
His eyes went to yours immediately.  He pulled the glass from his lips, mouth still obviously full of whiskey and soy sauce. If looks could kill, you’d be long dead.
“Good, honey?” you smiled wide then, taking a sip of your own drink. 
“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly fighting a grimace. He swallowed and nearly gagged, coughing into his fist, “mhm, just a little strong.”
“Oh,” the hostess began, “Jack was just about to tell us how you met!”
A couple of guests had gathered in the same spot, all lingering in a semicircle. Logan was quite the charmer and it wasn’t a surprise that he already had a couple of women gawking at him, hanging on his every word as if any of it was true. 
“Was he?” your tone was shrill but you attempted to appear playful, lightly smacking him on the arm, “Oh, honey, you should really let me tell it.”
Whatever he was about to come up with, you hoped it was not in the same outlandish category as cage fighting. Before you could begin, though, he dismissively waved his hand in your direction.
“No, no - you’re a little forgetful, sweetheart,” his grin was mischievous as he turned to speak to the surrounding guests, “so, it all started with a tshirt competition at a bar where the girls had to - “
“Nope! Nope,” you interjected, doing your best to keep your tone light and shaking your head, “haha - that must have been another girl, honey!”
That earned a few chuckles from the guests around you and you took the opportunity while everyone's attention was on you to try and spin a tale of your own.
“So, we actually met a couple years ago,” you started, mulling over what true details to sprinkle in or if you should make it up entirely, “uh - in a library.”
It wasn’t entirely untrue. You’d been at the mansion for a couple days before you bumped into him in the library while gathering books to try and put together your first lesson plan. You had a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of books in the other - admittedly stupid - but you’d always been careful. Except for that once. 
You had a book open in your arms, resting atop the stack you already gathered. You were walking and reading - again, admittedly not very smart - when you bumped into someone, spilling coffee on both of you and sending the stack of books to the floor with an audible thump. 
“Fuck, sorry -” you began to apologize, finally looking up to the strangers face. It was Logan, of course, though you didn’t know that at the time. You remember thinking he was handsome with his scruffy mutton chops and well groomed hair - until he opened his mouth.
“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”
You knew it was partially your fault but were irked by his attitude.
“Dude, you weren’t paying attention either, obviously!” you snapped back, looking down at the beige stain now adorning your white button up.
“I’m not the one who carries coffee and a shit ton of books at the same time.”
“Whatever.”
That was your grand introduction, neither of you even exchanging names.
Logan remembered it about the same way you did, though the version he tells is a little different. He loved to tell people that when you bumped into him, it was because you were so lovestruck that you just walked right into him. The part he always left out, though, was the first thing he thought when he saw you. He’d scolded you before even looking up to see who you were and when he had, he wished he’d reacted a little differently. 
You were beautiful, even with coffee spilt all over yourself. You looked like a girl he’d only ever dreamed of, all the way down to the color of your hair and eyes. Unfortunately, he’d already been an asshole. So, from then on, that was basically your shtick - bickering over little things, calling each other names - all to the amusement of everyone around you. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but it was obvious to everyone else that the kind of teasing you did was only because you had feelings for one another - like two elementary school kids - and neither one of you seemed to know how to approach it. The mask would slip sometimes for either one of you - when he’d place a hand on your lower back, the times he’d managed to pin you to the mat during training - and you’d always find yourself staring at the ceiling that night, overthinking every interaction you’d had until the sun came up. He was never any better off, pacing in his room to try and decipher what the hell it was he actually felt for you.
Anyway, you decided to stick to the real story, minus the part where you insulted each other.
“We bumped into each other, literally, and I had coffee and a bunch of books in my arms. So, I drop the books, coffee spills everywhere - of course. Then I looked up at him, and..” you paused, the truth caught in a lump in your throat.
“And it was love at first sight,” Logan added, grinning down at you, “for both of us.”
His eyes were trained on yours and he continued to contribute to the story.
“The second I saw her, I fell in love.”
He was still looking at you. Why was he still looking at you like that? You were supposed to be husband and wife, right, but he was leaning into it far heavier than you expected. It felt like you were the only ones in the room.
A couple ‘aw’s were shared between guests and you smiled politely at the reminder that you were in fact not the only people in the room. As the conversation switched to another topic and someone else began to speak, you felt Logan’s hand at the back of your head, gently playing with your hair. Your face was pink - he was being too nice.
A short while later, you were sitting on the couch beside him, listening to someone’s drawn out story that you stopped paying attention to after six minutes.
“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Logan uttered unceremoniously and stood from the couch. He disappeared into the house and not even a minute later, another guy came to sit in his spot.
“Hey,” he put his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, “I don’t think we’ve met.”
You looked at the fingers grazing your shoulder and sat forward to shrug them off, “nope.”
He told you his name and you couldn’t have cared any less, deciding to actually tune back into the story being told rather than converse with him. He was alright looking, but his approach was far too off putting. 
“So, did you come alone?”
You rolled your eyes at his question, opening your mouth to answer before he cut you off.
“Cause It looks like it, and I can’t stand to see a pretty girl alone.”
You groaned in disgust, hoping if you were dry enough in your answers, he’d leave you be.
“mhm.”
It wasn’t really an answer to anything, just a noise of affirmation. You hoped he’d get the hint then, but of course, he didn’t. In what would probably be the stupidest thing he’d done that night, the guy moved his arm from the back of the couch so he could squeeze your thigh. Right as you were about to tell him to fuck off, you saw a hand grip his shoulder from behind. Logan was leaning over the sofa, bringing his face a little lower so he wouldn’t cause a scene, his dog tags hanging when he leaned forward. He had a death grip on the guy's shoulder while he used his other hand to steady himself against the sofa. 
“Hey, bub.”
The guy looked a little terrified, to say the least, but Logan didn’t let up there.
“Do you always go around hittin’ on people’s wives? Or is it just mine?”
His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to run but that wasn’t going to happen as long as he was in his grip. 
“I-I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know she - “ the guy sputtered, trying to nervously laugh it off.
“Mhm. Hey, tell you what - why don’t you leave my girl alone and maybe I’ll give you a five minute head start to get the fuck out of here.”
He let go of his shoulder and that was enough to drive him away, the guy scurrying to his feet and finding somewhere else to mingle.
You didn’t know why you found yourself smiling the moment he’d said ‘my girl’. You rid yourself of it with a shake of your head, reminding yourself you were there to do a job.
“Hey,” Logan leaned himself down even further so he could whisper, “I gotta show you something, c’mere.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him but got up to follow. He stopped in the hallway in front of the bathroom, looked around to see if anyone would notice you, and promptly dragged you in with him before closing and locking the door. He hit the light switch and you looked around.
“Do you always take girls to the bathroom on first dates?” you teased, crossing your arms.
“You’d have to go out with me to find out,” he remarked, “besides, it’s not like that. Look.”
You watched him get low to the ground to open the cupboard under the sink and you crouched with him, following his pointing finger to the wood paneling in the back. It looked like a fake back - a board that appeared to be the back of the cabinet but definitely had something behind it. There was a sliver of metal visible behind it when you shined your phone’s flashlight.
“I figured we should look everywhere, so while I was in here I was checking it out - saw that. You think that’s it?”
“Could be,” you answered honestly, “that, or it’s some sort of electrical box we’re about to rip out of the wall. It’s an odd hiding spot for a safe.”
“Not really. Think about it - where's the first place you’d look for a safe?”
“Bedroom or office, maybe.”
“Right, and where's one of the last places you’d check?” he gestured to the open cabinet.
“Under…the sink,” you realized aloud, looking between him and the wooden board. 
“Exactly,” he nodded, swiping the contents of the cabinet onto the floor to gain access, “here’s the thing, though - I’m too big to get in there.”
He could maybe stick his head in, but in order to duck under the pipes from the sink, he’d need to have shoulders that were much less broad.
You sighed, knowing what that meant.
“Alright, alright - move. This better be it.”
You reluctantly crawled under the sink and into the cabinet on your hands and knees. You yanked the wooden board with all your strength and it came free, revealing a metal safe.
“Got it! You were right, it’s the safe.”
Logan simply hummed in response, clearing his throat. You figured he’d be a little more enthusiastic. 
Truthfully, he was too busy staring at your ass in the nice pants you were wearing to pay attention. When he heard your voice, he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thoughts he was having about you so he could think of a response. He’d always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you all dressed up drove him a little crazy.
“Yeah? Is it locked?”
You inspected the metal box, holding the absurdly large padlock hooked around the latch that opened the door.
“Uh-huh. Padlock - we’re gonna need the numbers.”
“No, we don’t. Bring it out.”
You did as you were told, crawling back out with the safe under your arm and placing it on the bathroom rug. It was a pretty small one - probably a little bigger than a basketball.
Logan picked it up and set it on the counter beside the sink. He unsheathed a claw and sliced through the metal latch that held the door closed in one swift motion.
“Well, yeah - that's one way to do it,” you shrugged.
“Easiest way to do it.”
He reached in and took out the small glass vial. He put it inside the pocket of his suit jacket.
“What if it falls out?” you asked.
“It won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Alright, kid,” he sighed, “what do you want me to do with it? ‘Cause i’m sure as hell not lettin’ you carry it.”
You rolled your eyes and looked him over.
“How about you wrap it in your jacket, like cushioning?”
“Fine.”
He reluctantly shrugged off his jacket, keeping the vial in the pocket but folding the jacket into a ball. You hastily replaced everything in the cabinet, safe included, and you followed Logan as he opened the door to step out - only to be met with another guest, her fist raised to knock.
“Oh! Dear,” she chuckled, clearly a little startled. She looked to the both of you, a grin appearing on her face, “Young love, what a gift. Don’t worry, I didn't see a thing!”
You shot her a confused look, chuckling nervously before you happened to catch a glance of your reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Your hair was mussed and your blouse was untucked on one side from having to bend up and down. Logan had taken off his suit jacket and you realized what it was she was implying.
“Oh, oh - we weren’t -”
“It’s alright, honey,” she responded as you stepped out, “like I said - my lips are sealed.”
She shot you both a wink, went into the bathroom and shut the door.
“She thought we were fucking in there,” you mumbled, eyes wide in embarrassment.
“Is that so bad?”
You snapped your head towards him, a confused look on your face, “what?”
Logan shrugged, “we're supposed to be husband and wife, aren't we?”
You shook your head in disbelief and decided to ignore him, both of you joining the other guests back in the living room. Dinner was finally ready and everyone took their seats in the dining room. There were a couple of things on the table you couldn’t even pronounce.
“Is that…meat? A vegetable?” you leaned over to logan, whispering behind your hand and nodding towards one of the dishes.
“Hell if I know,” he muttered, “I don’t think I wanna find out.”
You both piled on the few things onto your plates, poking at it with your forks.
“Do you wanna get a pizza after this?” you whispered.
“Definitely,” he replied, pushing around an unrecognizable sludge with his utensil.
“So, how long did you two say you’ve been together?” You both looked up, only to be met with the hostess’ stare. You had never mentioned how long you’d been ‘together’. Her smile was polite but her stare was piercing, as if she knew something she was not supposed to.
“About three years,” you replied, looking to him for back up.
“We got married a couple months in,” he added, grinning at you. Again, he had that look - like he wasn’t just pretending to be in love with you. 
“We were in this restaurant - this little place we go to all the time,” he kept talking, “and I just told her I thought she was beautiful, that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.”
“Really? I have to say,” she began, sipping from her glass,” for a young couple who got together so quickly, you two don’t seem very affectionate towards each other.”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
You shot Logan a panicked look, but he appeared unbothered.
“Ah,” he clicked his tongue,” it’s this rule she’s got about PDA. I’d be all over her if I could.”
You hated the way your face became hot. You couldn’t tell if he was leaning into it to be convincing or flirting just to make you flustered. You heard a muffled snicker from somewhere across the table and your eyes shifted to the source - it was the woman from earlier, the one who’d thought you and Logan were getting busy in the bathroom. 
“Can I at least get a kiss, babe?” Logan cooed, a smug look on his face.
“What are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.
“Being a husband,” he replied in a hush voice. 
It all happened within seconds. His hands cupped your face, warm and soft, and he leaned in to plant a kiss right on your lips. It was gentle and you melted into his touch, kissing him back. When he pulled away, you were still stunned, your lips parted in surprise. 
Logan kissed you.
His lips tasted like the remnants of cigar smoke. His touch was nearly intoxicating, like you were drunk off just the way he held you. You inhaled sharply and finally turned your face out of his grip, eyes glued to the table cloth. You had almost forgotten where you were - feeling like the room was spinning - and you let out a nervous laugh.
The topic of discussion moved on quickly and it seemed like any suspicion the hostess had about either of you had dissipated. You and Logan decided to say your goodbyes immediately after dinner, making some excuse about having to wake up early the next morning. When you stepped out and he shut the door behind him, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.
“What the hell was that?” you spat, eyebrows knitted. 
“What was what?”
He was completely nonchalant as he continued to walk next to you towards his truck. 
“You kissed me.”
“I did.”
“You didn’t have to.”
He stopped with you at the passenger side of the truck, standing in front of the door so you couldn’t get in.
“What if I wanted to?”
You swallowed hard. It was dead silent outside, save for the chirping of crickets.
“What?”
“I wanted to,” he admitted, chewing his bottom lip, “I wanted to kiss you.”
You didn't know what to say. He hated you, didn’t he?
“Logan, I - “
“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything in there, pretending to be together.”
His voice almost sounded strained, like he was pleading.
“You don’t even like me, you hate me,” you deflected, but he shook his head.
“That’s not true. I never hated you. I figured you’d hate me after I acted like an asshole when we met, so I went with it. I don’t hate you. I think you’re funny, I think you’re pretty - I just never really knew how to tell you that.”
When you only stared in response, he moved aside and opened your door with a defeated sigh. You were still speechless but you hesitantly slid into the seat anyway, letting him close the door. When he got into the driver's side and started the ignition, you couldn’t stop looking over at him.
“So, you like me,” you finally said aloud.
He kept his eyes glued to the road when he responded in a low voice, “why do you think I bother you so much?”
“You pick on me because you like me? Like a little kid?” you couldn’t help the amusement in your voice as your confused expression turned to a smile.
You saw him bite back a smile that mirrored yours, shaking his head.
“I guess you could say that.”
“Well, you’re not too bad, you know, and I guess you’re kind of handsome.”
“Oh, really?” 
“Mhm, but don’t make me take it back.”
The rest of the short ride home was spent in comfortable silence, both of you seemingly trying to figure out where you’d go from there. When Logan parked his truck and got out, he came around your side to open your door. You hopped out and he shut the door for you, but grabbed your hand before you started to walk away.
“Hey, c’mere for a second.”
You let him pull you a little closer, intertwining both your hands. The evening air was chilly and you could see his breath in the air when he spoke.
“Can I kiss you, for real this time?”
You could feel your heart beating fast and you nodded eagerly. The second you did, his lips were already on yours. His hands let go of yours to settle in your hair, threading the strands between his fingers. His touch felt warm in comparison to the cold air and you leaned further into him with your hands gripping his jacket to pull him close. When he pulled away, he rested his hands on your waist and planted another kiss on your forehead. 
“Maybe we could, uh, try again,” he cleared his throat, running his hands up and down your sides, “be nice to each other this time.”
Truthfully, you couldn’t hate Logan, even though you tried. 
You couldn’t hate his perfect hair.
You couldn’t hate his sweet voice.
You couldn’t hate his kind smile.
You couldn’t hate the way he dressed.
You just couldn’t hate Logan Howlett. 
So, you kissed him again, smiling against his lips and letting him hold you as close as possible, almost lifting you off the ground with his arms around you.
“We should probably go inside, huh?” you mumbled when you leaned back, lightly scratching the mutton chops on the side of his face in an affectionate manner. Those were another thing you’d pretended to hate - probably because you were embarrassed to admit you thought he pulled them off well.
“As you wish, Mrs. Smith.”
He held his hand out for you to take and you did, eyeing the ring on your finger.
“You know,” you held up your hand to show him the jewelry, “I think i’ll keep this.”
He grinned, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss, “I think i'll keep mine, too.”
You were both still holding hands when you went inside, blushing like two little kids. You were so engrossed in one another that you didn’t notice Jean and Ororo in the hallway ahead of you as he leaned down to kiss you again. Now that he knew he could actually do it, he couldn’t help himself.
“I’ll take it your night went well,” Ororo giggled, Jean doing the same. You jumped a little in surprise, covering your pink face in mild embarrassment. 
“What changed? I thought you hated each other,” the latter of the two asked.
“Eh, he’s not so bad,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders.
‘’Turns out, we make a pretty good fake husband and wife,” he explained, “I guess we got a little too carried away with it.”
As the two of you walked hand in hand further down the hall, Ororo elbowed Jean lightly, leaning over to whisper behind her hand.
“You owe me twenty bucks.”
・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆
A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you sm for reading!! I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep this as is or add smut so I'll leave it how it is and if enough people ask for it, I can make a part two <3 pls reblog and like if you enjoyed/want more and my inbox is always open :)
Edit: here is the link to part 2!
2K notes · View notes
samwisefamgee · 1 year
Text
haven't done anything on Sunday for the past two fucking months because a friend has made plans for all of us then canceled them the day of or before every. fucking. time.
#this is great for my social anxiety btw#yes queen give us nothing#give us LESS than nothing by making absolutely sure we dont have plans on sundays specifically so you can tell us to fuck off each sunday#its not giving me the vibe that you dont want us around at all and it DEF isnt compounded by your recent behavior on the#FEW#FUCKING#OCCASIONS#we actually DO hang out#how is it from the dawn of my life to now almost each individual amongst my family and friends has managed to do some shit#that makes me think without a doubt that all the time I spent trying to connect with them was a fool's fuckin errand?#just get out of my life or tell me to get out of yours STOP FUCKING WASTING BOTH OF OUR TIME#how can they even fucking live like this#are all your relationships this shallow? why does every motherfucker in my life have the depth of a teaspoon No One Is Seeking Understandin#we spend YEARS building a relationship and you treat me like we've met like 4 times and kinda hated each other about it. why did you bother#we're friends right? right? you havent been fuckin with me for years now just because you dont care about any of your relationships right??#TELL ME DIDNT I PUT ALL OF MY EGGS IN THE WRONG! FUCKING! BASKETS! FOR TWO STRAIGHT DECADES#i swear i've only taken the time to befriend people who arent shitheads but i think i fucked up by making that the only standard#maybe that is a waste of time of they're all 'good' people with no drive to build relationships in life#because this isnt a one way street and im getting tired of fighting traffic from your end#anyway this frustration miiiight be coming from more than just the sundays thing if that wasnt evident
1 note · View note
tgcg · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
an open fly walking
i didnt like this one but i thought id finally air it out since its been sat in my folders for months now
TG: hey karkat
CG: YEAH?
===
TG: you ever noticed you like
TG: walk weird
CG: WOW, OKAY.
CG: HAVE *YOU* EVER NOTICED THAT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT?
TG: pff
===
TG: no listen because i got my ears scoping that shit im like a scouter for dude activity
TG: ok maybe me mentioning it to you is gonna fuck up your ecosystem or something but
TG: you have the heaviest feet of the century man
CG: I DO???
TG: just thrust them straight down into the ground like youre trying to homebrew a san andreas fault
TG: viciously tamping on tectonic plates hoping for top score on the richter scale
TG: waging war against solid particles and the basic flow of gravity
TG: i could ID those footfalls out of a million i mean it
CG: SERIOUSLY?
===
TG: i mean theres nothing wrong with it but
TG: yeah
CG: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU'RE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW.
TG: im not fucking with you striders honor
TG: when have i ever lied to anybody about anything
CG: NOT UNPACKING THAT QUESTION WITH YOU TODAY.
CG: BUT SHIT, HOLD ON. LET ME SEE.
TG: yeah take the umbrella go over there and just walk to me
CG: ON IT.
===
===
TG: see you just kinda slam em straight down dude
CG: THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY RIOTOUS FUCKING JOKE OF A LIFE.
TG: dont your feet ache
===
CG: MOOT POINT. THIS MIGHT SOUND INSANE BUT I'VE ACTUALLY HAD MY STRUT PODS FOR A WHILE. ANY KIND OF PAIN THIS WOULD'VE BEEN CAUSING WOULD BE TOTALLY FILTERED OUT OF MY SPONGE BY NOW AS BACKGROUND NOISE.
TG: damn i didnt think that through
TG: my shades
CG: ALRIGHT, GET BACK UNDER THE SHITTING UMBRELLA AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME.
TG: look ive fucked myself over here too i dont have shit to clean these with
TG: ugh
===
TG: guess its karma
CG: HOLY FUCK. HOW DID I NEVER NOTICE THIS BEFORE?
TG: i dunno but im gonna assume having a dad thats a literal crab monster is probably a contributing factor
TG: im guessing thats not a great role model for this kinda thing
TG: just conjecture i mean
CG: YOUR ENVY IS OVERWHELMINGLY OBVIOUS DAVE. AS A DISCLAIMER, HE WOULD'VE ABSOLUTELY KICKED YOUR ASS.
TG: yeah probably
CG: THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL THERE IS TO SAY ON THE MATTER.
===
TG: but see bro had me stringent on feather feets
TG: i bet i could slip across a bike horn warehouse with nary a fucking toot
CG: HAHA. ASSUMING YOU DON'T MAKE A TOTAL ASS OF YOURSELF, AS PER USUAL.
CG: IF YOU WEREN'T CONSTANTLY RUNNING YOUR GASH ABOUT EVERYTHING AND BEING AN INIMITABLE CLOWN I SERIOUSLY THINK YOU COULD BE ON PAR WITH YOUR CUSTODIAN.
CG: THAT IS A MONUMENTAL "IF".
TG: well look at it this way
TG: im basically doing you all a favor by being a dumbass
TG: never gonna get caught off guard by the bozo patrol
CG: WOW. GOOD POINT.
===
TG: also screw this can i use your shirt
TG: this stupid hoodie is just smudging my lenses up
TG: i cant see dick
CG: UH
CG: SURE, I GUESS.
TG: cool
===
TG: so yeah i could be prowling around like a goddamn verbal assassin sniping convos left and right
TG: but no ive got the decency to go bunp in the night
CG: YEAH.
CG: IT'S DEFINITELY COMPOUNDED BY THE CONSTANT INANE RAMBLINGS.
CG: BUT
CG: IT'S ACTUALLY PRETTY RELAXING, Y'KNOW? IT HAS ITS OWN RHYTHM.
TG: see yeah i sound it off and
===
TG: wait really?
CG: YEAH
CG: I DON'T KNOW
CG: FUCK. HOW DO I EXPLAIN THIS WITHOUT WANTING TO CRAM MY FROND DOWN MY PROTEIN CHUTE.
===
CG: IT'S LIKE
CG: A SALVE FOR MY AGGRAVATION SPONGE.
CG: YOUR VOICE IS THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT OF ASPIRIN.
TG: uh damn karkat hold your hoofbeasts i was talking about the rhythm thing
CG: ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. I'M TAKING US BOTH THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW. YOU HAVE REACHED THE BAD END OF THIS CONVERSATION.
TG: you think thatd be heroic or just
CG: IF I WAS STILL GHOSTING AROUND THE RUINS OF SGRUB'S ARCANE FRIGGIN GAME SYSTEMS, THE COMPLETE LACK OF SHIT AFOOT NOWADAYS WOULD BORE ME TO DEATH.
CG: LIKE. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME OUR THERMAL HULL LEVELLED UP, DAVE?
TG: hah
===
TG: but uh
TG: i mean we had aspirin on earth
CG: NO, NUMBNUBS.
CG: I'M SAYING YOU ARE MY ASPIRIN.
TG: oh
CG: YEAH, TAKE THAT TO THE BANK AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR 20-KARAT ASS.
===
TG: heh
TG: well get this
TG: i will literally talk at you forever for free
TG: you got lifetime priority seating for the davealogues
TG: never gotta go to the drugstore again you can just get doped up on my dulcet tones for the rest of time
TG: take that and some of this
TG: im packin punches
CG: OW, FUCK! NO! MY MIGRAINES!
CG: SWEEPS OF VEINCLOTTING AND NERVEFRAYING DOWN THE FUCKING GAPER. BECAUSE OF YOU.
CG: YOU ASSHOLE, THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME.
CG: AND YOU'RE LAUGHING.
TG: chuckle up it only gets worse from here
===
CG: BE HONEST WITH ME. DID FONDLING MY SHIRT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET EVEN DO ANYTHING?
TG: barely but yknow sometimes you just gotta deal the cards youre given
TG: ill just be astigmatic for a while its cool
CG: PFF… OKAY MAN.
4K notes · View notes
angelicmemo · 1 year
Text
My period just IS NOT COMING like I'm not pregnant I took a test and I just have not fucked (and also The Implant) but it's been ??? At least two months ??? Where the fuck is it?
1 note · View note
tonycries · 7 months
Text
Wanna Do Bad Things To You
Tumblr media
Synopsis. He fucks you like he hates you. You didn’t mean to fuck your old friend-with-benefits - truly - it just kinda happened.
Pairing. Multiple x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! Reader, hate sex, ex-friends-with-benefits, slight angst, he’s still in love with you,  unprotected sex, jealous sex (from his side), choking, marking, pet names (my love, sweetheart), swearing.
Word count. 1.5k
A/N. Ummmmmmmm yeah. Art by @_3eam on X.
Tumblr media
He fucks you like he hates you.
“Shut the fuck up, you little slut.”
“Do it then. What? Scared he’ll do it bet-”
Cut off by a pathetic gurgle - his large hand around your throat. Ringed fingers tightening right above your pulse, the cold metal digging into your searing skin. 
Your vision is bleary, blood roaring in your ears as he leans down, muscled front against your back. His breath is hot against your face as he whispers lowly, “Running your mouth a bit too much, my love. You do the same with him as well?”
Shivers run down your spine - all the way to your cunt, pulsing and clenching furiously around his throbbing tip. Teasing your dripping entrance. Unmoving.
Your walls burn, struggling at the stretch of his thick head, yet still wanting the bastard to fucking move. Such a fucking tease. He was always like this - even back when you two were together, but that’s a story for another time.
Turning to glare at him over your shoulder, “So what if I do? Who are you to tell me what to do?”
You’re either an idiot or a mastermind. 
Maybe both. Because you feel his achingly hard cock twitch animalistically inside you, a slow, dangerous grin spreading across those kiss-bitten lips you knew too well. You hated how much you wanted them on yours right now. 
“You’re right. I’m not anyone to you.” he murmurs venomously, swiftly capturing the tender skin of your exposed neck, sharp teeth digging into you. Branding you. 
You keen, hips bucking uselessly against his bruising grip on your hips as he pulls away. God, you felt so used - and it made your walls flutter around him so desperately. 
Two long fingers reach up to squeeze your cheeks together mockingly into a pathetic pout, forcing you to look at him. “But I’m gonna ruin you for everyone. Including that little prick you’ve tried to replace me with.”
Your eyes flutter open in shock - you didn’t even realize they were scrunched up - getting lost in the ones boring into yours, half-lidded and pupils blown ferally. Electricity jolts through your body at the pure lust and rage whirling in his intense gaze. 
You two were going to be the deaths of each other.
You two were always going to end up like this.
You’ve barely even finished the thought before his flushed tip is kissing your cervix so painfully good. 
“Hah- Oh, fuck. Fuck you.” Eyes rolling to the back of your head as he sheaths himself completely in you. A low hiss leaves his swollen lips as he pulls out agonizingly slow, inch by inch, prominent veins dragging along your g-spot. 
“Fuck, you sure you hate me? Because this pussy seems like she can’t get enough of me, hm?”
Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue is cut off by his rock-hard cock bullying its way back into your snug cunt. He fucks you animalistically, heavy balls stinging your pussy as his cock rams in and out of your hole over and over at a relentless pace. 
Strangled mewls of ah! ah! ah! leave your swollen lips as large fingers presses tight circles into your clit at a merciless rhythm matching the cadence of his hips. 
You mindlessly writhe against him, you felt so full - so split open on his cock. It was too much to handle. He was always too much to take. 
“Now now, don’t hah- run away from me, my love. If you’re going to act like such a fucking slut then take it like one.” he purrs, lip curling into a smug smirk that you wanted to smack off his pretty face. You couldn’t stand him - but you couldn’t get enough of him either.
“I’m not the hah- o-one that runs away. And- hngh- I’m not your ‘love’” you grit, because God forbid you go down without a fight - even when you’re falling apart completely under him.
What else could he have even expected? You always did see through him.
God, did he love that bitchy mouth of yours. 
Huffing out a surprised laugh, he wraps a strong arm around your waist pulling you deeper onto his throbbing cock - grip hard enough that he knows you’ll have marks to remember him by. Not like he planned on letting you ever forget him in the first place.
“You always did know how to push my buttons, huh, my love?” 
“Could say the same for you, sweetheart.”
Fuck that stupid fucking petname. How is it that even after years of not hearing it, his heart still lurches the same as it falls out of your mouth? That annoying, nagging part of his brain wonders if you call him the same thing.
And maybe you could read minds - he wouldn’t be surprised - because you open those pretty lips to say “Though, you’re not my sweetheart anymore, huh?”
Unexplainable anger seethes under his skin in a way that makes him want to claw it off. 
“Fuck you.” he hisses, turning your face so his mouth clashes with yours. It’s all bruising urgency and teeth clashing at the breathless dance of your tongues. 
His cock speeds up it’s abuse on your cunt, fucking you with impatient, harsh thrusts that have his leaking tip kissing your cervix. Had it not been for his firm hand around your throat, you were sure you’d have been slammed into the headboard creaking in protest.
“You drive me fucking insane. Fuck you.”
He hates the whines of his name falling from your kiss-bitten lips, and how it’s his favorite song.
He hates the tears clinging to your lashes in a way that makes him want to burn down anything that made you cry. Including himself.
He hates the way your cunt clamps down on him as if it hurts to part - he wishes you felt the same.
He hates the way he can’t let you go.
You were perfect, so perfect. Too perfect for him. He was probably better for you - all stability and reassurance where he is nothing but a whirlwind of change. 
In one, fluid move, he’s pulled out of the snug heaven of your dripping cunt - flipping you onto your back to stare into those beautiful eyes that haunt him every night. 
"Let's forget everything else, if just for tonight."
And with those words, he’s back inside you again, ramming into you with purpose. Though his thrusts are as unforgiving as ever, something about the air feels charged with something different. A rawness that both of you would have shied away from. 
“Th-this doesn’t hngh- fix us, y’know.”
“I know, my love.”
His low words muffled as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing the bite mark with a tenderness that doesn’t translate into his hips. And you can’t overthink it - because your head is only filled with him and the way your cunt is milking his thick cock so good. 
And later you’ll probably blame your foggy thoughts for the reason why your hands subconsciously wrap around his muscled shoulders, pulling him so impossibly close until you can feel his heartbeat thundering under your touch - in sync with your own. One. Two. Three.
“Ah! Shit. Doing so good, cunt made jus’ f’me. You’re made jus’ f’me.” choked moans leave his throat as he pulls away ever-so-slightly to look into your fucked out eyes. 
“Perfect f’me, my love.”
Maybe at his words - or maybe at his predatory, blown-out gaze - you buck your hips to desperately meet his. Breathless moans of his name leaving your bruised lips.
With a final, purposeful thrust of his cock, he pulls you once more into a familiar, searing kiss that sends you both over the edge. You see stars as you cum, mind barely registering the thick ropes of his seed that fill your quivering cunt.
A low groan leaves him as his cum forms a thick, white ring around his base, dripping down your legs and onto the bedsheets that he knew were your favorite. It was feral - and at least for this moment, it made him feel like yours. 
Some carnal part of him keeps bucking his hips into you as if on instinct, letting you ride out your highs together. Fucking his cum deeper and deeper the way he would as lovers, his strong arms wrapped around you to keep you from moving away. But he didn’t have to, because right now you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
Keeping you close. As if he never wanted to let go - both of your bodies a mindless whisper of what your minds craved. 
A delicate intimacy that only your bodies could bring rings in the sex-filled air. And when he finally stops, body collapsing onto yours - he whispers a secret. Meant for only the two of you in this quiet world.
“Fuck me like you still love me.”
Because by God was he in love with you.
- Gojo, TOJI, SUGURU, Atsumu, SUNA, Tsukishima, SAKUSA, EREN
Tumblr media
A/N. Maybe I’ll do some fluff next week to make up for this…
Plagiarism not authorized.
6K notes · View notes
boldly-legendary · 17 days
Text
Your boyfriend is a werewolf who's terrified of accidentally hurting you, so he'll only ever fuck you when he's in his human form. It's indistinguishable from a normal human except he has sharp teeth and his cock has a knot, albeit much smaller than normal. You don't really mind because he's gorgeous (for a human) and the sex is amazing.
Eventually though he forgets it's a full moon and transforms while he's fucking you. One minute he's gently pushing into your ass, the next his cock suddenly expands inside you to about twice its usual size. You cry out in shock as he goes absolutely crazy, emitting feral growls into your ear before dragging his tongue across your neck. Then he bites your shoulder and sinks his teeth in. Your cock twitches and spurts precum onto the mattress. When he tastes your blood, he loses it and ruts into you harder than he ever has before, his gigantic knot stretching you to your limit. His clawed hands find yours and squeeze them reassuringly to let you know that he's not trying to hurt you, but when his orgasm hits he speeds up again and you can't help screaming.
When he hits your prostate, you pass out and sleep for the rest of the night. In the morning you wake up to find a bandage on your shoulder and your boyfriend in human form again, kissing you gently and apologising for hurting you. You tell him not to worry, you want to do it again tonight.
"You're such a beast, darling, I love it...please?"
He blushes and transforms again. Your jaw drops, you didn't know until now that he could transform at will. He pounces before you can react further and starts to force himself into your ass again. You don't believe it'll fit - it's too big, Jesus Christ, it hurts - but still wrap your legs around his furry torso, pulling him in closer. You mentally swear that you'll keep fucking him until his size stops hurting. He growls and pants from the effort of getting it in, his tail wagging as he drools all over you.
Involuntarily, your ass cheeks clench together, your body trying to reject his knot - against the will of your brain - but it's no use. With a final particularly hard thrust, he pushes the knot inside your sore hole and lets out a howl of triumph. Despite how much you desperately want him to keep going, tears begin running down your cheeks from the pain. He notices and bends down to lick your face, covering you in his drool. Through your cries of pain - and pleasure - you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss the tip of his snout.
"Fuck! I love you so much..."
He hears that and roars, slamming into you so hard you cum immediately. You assume that means he loves you too.
He doesn't stop.
Hours later, you cum for what feels like the hundredth time. All you can produce is a tiny trickle of semen due to multiple previous orgasms, the drying remnants of which cling to your boyfriend's fur. He howls again before he finally cums, his knot swelling up to its full size.
You both know you're gonna be doing this a lot more.
1K notes · View notes
star-sim · 9 months
Text
"is your girlfriend single?" ☆ enha maknaes
Tumblr media Tumblr media
☆ youtuber! non-idol! bf! enhypen maknae line x fem! reader ☆ summary: when your youtuber boyfriend finally shows you for the first time to his audience. ☆ genre: fluff, very dumb, jelly boys ☆ warning(s)? no! ☆ ygs seemed to like the hyung version so here's the maknae version!! reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
hyung ver.
Tumblr media
sunoo ☆
OKAY HEAR ME OUT
this one is gonna be a lil different
paranormal investigator sunoo
he's like buzzfeed unsolved
and for one of his seasons, he goes and investigates haunted places and reviews their histories yk?
for the season finale
sunoo visits the bellaire house, which is notorious for being super haunted and ghost-infested
i like to think that sunoo is honestly skeptical abt ghosts
like he definitely has tried to talk to them, but hasn't discovered anything conclusive to definitively prove the existence of ghosts
anyways because it's the season finale
sunoo has a special guest...
you! his gf!
i think he'd be low key about your relationship, but his viewers know who you are
the video starts off normal
sunoo gives a rundown of the history of the bellaire house, like when it was built, the people that lived in it, the strange occurences in there, etc
the bickering between you and sunoo as you go over the bellaire house is very cute and sweet
it definitely makes it into those "sunoo and [name] being a comedic duo" compilations aw
anyways now its time to investigate the bellaire house head on 😈
sunoo pulls out all his cool ghost-catching gadgets
he tries everything
like the thermal camera, EMF meter, even the goddamn magnetic field detector
sunoos getting annoyed bc why are none of the ghosts talking to him :(
on the other hand
you're clinging onto him, hiding behind ur bf scared shitless
i mean like.... why would you not the bellaire house is known for having DEMONS 😭😭
sunoo huffs and turns to the camera, "welp it looks like there's no ghosts here"
one of the people in his camera crew suggest having you ask instead of him
even though youre scared you do it for ur bf
you're like "hi ghosts..... if you're here with us... please flicker the lights"
.
.
.
THE LIGHTS BEGIN TO FLICKER AAAAAAAA
AND SUNOOS HYPED OUT OF HIS MIND
"BABE BABE BABE ASK THEM THEIR NAME"
so youre like "ghosts... whats your name"
and NO JOKE
A WIND BLOWS PAST THE ROOM
AND EVERYONE IN THE ROOM SWEARS THEY HEAR SOMEONE WHISPER FAINTLY
"robert"
so that's how you and sunoo meet robert the ghost
BUT THAT'S NOT THE END
BECAUSE SUNOO HAS THE BRILLIANT IDEA OF PULLING OUT HIS OUIJA BOARD
tbh you both look dumb as hell
sitting on the crusty bellaire house floor
hunched over a ouija board
sunoo is now asking questions
but the ouija board doesn't even move
but when you ask
"robert, how are you today? yes for good, and no for bad"
THE GODDAMN PLANCHETTE MOVES TO YES AKA GOOD 😭
you and sunoo then introduce yourselves
again, when sunoo introduces himself nothing happens
but when you introduce yourself
the candle that's lit beside you goes out
someone in sunoo's camera crew jokes that they think that robert the ghost likes you
so sunoo jokingly asks "robert are you flirting with my girlfriend?"
AND THE OUIJA BOARD SAYS YES 😭😭😭
and when you kiss sunoo the doors in the house start slamming and shit like SOMEONES MAD
sunoo is lowk offended
and then he starts to beef with robert the ghost
except robert the ghost never respond to anything that sunoo says
bro leaves sunoo on heard
sunoos like "HEY ROBERT I DON'T CARE IF YOURE A DEMON YOU BETTER BACK THE FUCK UP!!"
later when ygs review the emf recorder it picks up robert the ghost whispering "i don't care 🙄"
sassy ass ghost
on the other hand
robert responds to EVERYTHING you say
atp you're not scared anymore
"hai robert i'm [name], knock over that doll over there if you want to be my friend"
and the doll knocks over 😭
"robert knock on the window if you think i'm cute :3"
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
the camera crew is just laughing their asses off
at some point
the ouija board starts moving on its own
everyones like WOAHHH IT'S ACTUALLY MOVING!!! QUICK GET A PIECE OF PAPER SO WE CAN RECORD WHAT ITS SAYING!!!
sunoo is taking such dilligent notes
it starts with i, then s, then it spells out your name, and then s, i, n, g, l, e
" ' IS [NAME] SINGLE' ???"
is what the ouija board says
yes a goddamn ghost just asked that
SUNOO IS NOT HAVING IT
while you and the camera crew are cracking up
sunoo starts telling off robert
"listen bro just because you died in the bellaire house doesn't mean that you can try to take my gf 😐"
robert the ghost is being sassy too
so sunoo literally just snaps the ouija board in half
"haha you can't talk anymore robert .😐."
yk how in buzzfeed unsolved they take turns staying in the haunted place alone with all the lights off
sunoo kicks everyone out so that he can have a "man to man" talk with robert
robert isn't a physical person but everyone swears they hear crying
.... and it sure isn't coming from sunoo 😇
i think this would go really viral
"[name] is so beautiful that even dead people want her"
"robert the ghost is so me"
"even ghosts aren't immune to beautiful women"
"robert saw a hot woman and took his chance"
this would become an inside joke within sunoo's fandom fs
sunoo isn't having it though
he definitely still tweets about it
"i remember when some loser ghost tried to take my girlfriend"
"robert fuck you i'm glad you died"
"see you hell robert"
i def think robert is scared of sunoo now
LMAO
Tumblr media
jungwon ☆
jungwon is documentary youtuber
he likes to make short documentaries about topics that he likes
kinda like wendigoon or fern or real horror
i feel like he'd have a super high quality mic that's super crisp
i think he'd like to make iceberg videos, or videos about obscure missing people stories
anyways
jungwon has a whiteboard that he uses to explain things
esp like timelines
but in one of his videos he doesn't use the whiteboard so it's in the background
so you write a little message on it
its just a very simple
"[name] was here :3 !!"
i feel like only a few people notice it
but as more and more videos pass
and jungwon doesn't use the whiteboard
your little messages get bigger and bigger
until one day the entire board is filled up with just "[NAME] WAS HERE!!!"
sorry i think a lot of jungwon's viewerbase would be redditors, just given what his content is like
r/jungwon LMAAOAOAO
on there someone brings it up
theyre like "who is [name]"
some ppl suggest that it's probably a friend or his gf
it's pretty chill tbh, his viewerbase isn't really too concerned
until one day
jungwon does one of those investigating 411 missing persons cases
except ygs live near one of the places where someone went missing
so he's physically walking along the path where someone went missing as he tells the story
poor baby is lowk kinda scared tho so he takes you along with him
youre mostly behind the camera but you do talk
at the beginning of the video he's like
"hi guys i'm joined by my girlfriend today"
you pop into frame to say hi
anyways like i said you do talk during this video
like as jungwon tells the story you're reacting behind the camera
"it's crazy that a 4 year old traversed 30 miles up a mountain in a matter of 30 hours..."
and behind the camera you're like "omg no way that's wild 😱😱😱"
youre like genuinely invested
you're also cracking a lot of jokes w him too
its really sweet bc most of his videos jungwon is alone, but since youre in this w him, he's smiling so much ;(
and like everytime he makes a joke you can see him looking off-camera to look at your reaction
and when you laugh everyone can literally see how proud he is
this video so SUPER well received
his comment section is so sweet
"i've never seen jungwon smile so much, he's so in love with [name] :("
"the way you can tell jungwon is proud when [name] laughs at his jokes"
but i think the most common type of comment are those type stamp ones
"at 1:23 [name]'s laugh is so cute!"
"0:58 when the camera panned over to [name] my jaw dropped... she's gorgeous!"
"5:29 [NAME] IS SO FUNNY I LOVE HER"
"at 4:40 i love the way [name] completes jungwon's sentence, i've never seen two people that are just so perfect for each other"
yk how on youtube there's that feature where you can see the most replayed part?
when you pop into frame that's the most replayed part of his video 😭
his viewerbase on reddit probably posts you
like its a screenshot from the video and theyre like "it's [name]! the one on the whiteboard!"
i think his fanbase would be really nice on reddit too :(
"she's so pretty!"
"jungwon has immaculate taste"
indeed he does <3
he's so proud of you, like i think he definitely looks at the comments and screenshots them to keep reading them
like YES THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND
HOWEVER
jungwon makes those "going through my subreddit" videos
and he comes across a post hyping you up
at first hes liek "YES YES YES MY GF IS SO BEAUTIFUL"
but then the comments on the post are like
"she's so beautiful, do ygs think she's single?"
"hi [name] 😏 (i am the ceo of amazon and read feminist literature books btw)"
obv all jokes
and jungwon's face visibly drops
he gives the camera a MAD side eye
a STINK EYE
jungwons like "all right, who said that 🤨"
AND THEN HE REPORTS AND BANS THEM 😭
he makes posts on his subreddit like "all of u are going missing next time i see shit like this"
HELP
Tumblr media
riki ☆
sorry he's a shitposter
i think riki posts those genshin impact and fortnite playthroughs
but he also posts other gamer things
but he actually has a good fanbase
he's at like 900k subscribers even though he doesn't have a fixed upload schedule or specific genre of post
he's never showed his face like ever on his channel, but he definitely shows his personality through editing, video descriptions, and community posts
one day though
riki randomly posts a video titled "me and my girlfriend at the arcade"
and its a video of you and him on an arcade date :(
the majority of it is him behind the camera recording you as you play games
the way you can hear him chuckling behind the camera as you have cute reactions :((((
but there's also times where he's on camera
like when he's playing with the claw machine
and bc riki is a pro
he wins a you giant teddy bear!!
your cute lil cheers when he wins are like the most replayed part of the video
he takes such cute pictures of you hugging the bear aw
honestly his viewers are surprised when he posts the video
bc he used to be posting genshin impact videos why is there a vlog
but theyre not complaining
this video becomes one of his most viewed
since youre most of the video there's a lot of comments abt you
and i think his audience is close enough with riki to shit on him LMAAOAO
"[name] is so sweet i wanna hug her"
"i wish i was a teddy bear..."
"SHE'S SO CUTE"
"move aside riki"
"is [name] single by any chance"
"omg who is that weird random guy (riki) that keeps coming near you [name] is he bothering you queen"
"[name] who is this random guy are you cheating on me"
riki responds to these comments too
"you can't have her" "too bad she's lying in my arms right now" "she just kissed me" "do want want my girlfriend or a black eye"
he definitely starts fights
i think his video is so viral that he gets ppl outside his audience
and some ppl get mad when riki fights back 😭😭😭
“why is he fighting people they’re clearing joking” and riki responds like “yeah why is he fighting 🤬🤬🤬😡😡😡”
and then riki gets petty
and makes a video called
"addressing everything."
its like a logan paul apology video
it's also like 30 seconds 😭
"hi all... i just wanted to come here and apologize... for having a HOT GIRLFRIEND" and then he flips off the camera and it cuts off with you saying "babe?--"
lowk goes viral for it LMAO
behold the keyboard warrior trilogy- heehoonki ☠️
in the future riki does post more of your cute vlogs
and in the descriptions he's just ranting abt how much he loves you
lowk all the vlogs are basically just him admiring you
cuties
Tumblr media
6K notes · View notes
simpjaes · 6 months
Text
HARD CASH, EASY MONEY (p.js)
Tumblr media
Jay is rich-rich and likes to frequent the strip club you dance at. You know regulars tend to have their favorite dancers, but to become his favorite? Oh, well….you knew he’d rent out a private room sooner or later. 
Or the one where you tell jay that if breaks the rules, he’s going to have to fork up a very large sum of money and, well, he seems entirely ready to pay up. 
minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.
WORDCOUNT― 5.4k
PAIRING― jay x afab reader
CONTENT― pussy drunk and rich as hell jay, stripper reader, jay is taller than reader.
NOTE: if u read this before no u didn’t bc i reworked a lot of it!!! just to cover my bases, hi i am ncteez and if you feel like this fic sounds too close to another one, its because i wrote them both!!! thank you!!! 
nsfw tags under cut:
nsfw tags: lap dancing, shy-ish jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, doggy style on a couch, thick cock jay, reader doesn’t cum lmfaooooo
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. The fact that you don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show?  What’s not to love about it? 
There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire. 
It’s easy, really. After all, why not use the goods you were born with to make the big bucks?
Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, children, and stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their homes for work. 
To them, you are their secret little stress relief and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, perhaps. Dancing a little longer for them sometimes just to really rake in the dollars. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage. 
Jay was one of those men, so you assumed. A little young looking if you’re being honest, but who are you to pry when he’s throwing hundreds at you and the other dancers? 
 You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling uncomfortably on his seat to hide the boner, presumably ashamed to know he could never have the women up on stage that are intentionally making him hard. 
He isn’t though, and you swear just last weekend he bought out the entire fucking club because he was the only one watching on a late saturday night, silently judging each dancer. You also remember when he made eye contact with you on that night. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear the way your heart skipped a beat with the intimidation, mostly because the motherfucker smirked before throwing out five crisp hundred dollar bills.
Even on the first night he ever attended, the girls talked. You remember when your best friend ran back in her six inch pumps, jumping with glee and explaining that the new guy threw two hundred at her only a minute into her dance. 
Naturally, all the girls wanted to put on a show for him after that.
He appeared to be rich. And everyone was shocked, really, because even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though? He was tipping with bills that showed his status. 
It was really only natural from that moment forward for each girl plus yourself to try and win him over. You’d stay near his side of the stage, directing the gyrating and pussy shots right at him just to see those bills flutter to the floor of the stage. 
In all honesty though, these types of clients never stay long. Usually they’re in the city on business and visit once, only to never come back. This one though? Oh, he keeps coming back. Every. Single. Saturday. 
Having no ring on his fingers only made it better because many of the married men do not feel the guilt of ogling women while married. Huge turn off. Like, hey, if they don’t touch, it’s not cheating right? Either way, eating fancy and living in your nice flat paid for by the lust of men is a perfect lifestyle for you. Even if you have to pretend to like the pigs pretending to love their wives.
You called dibs on this new man as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though, because who the man chooses is usually who ends up dancing for him and getting the most money. 
This guy never seemed to choose a girl though. He never pays for dances, never speaks, never so much as shivers in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. All he does is watch and throw bills.
You should be pleased. After all, he’s kind of a perfect client.
Weeks and months go by at this point and Jay keeps his regular Saturday night appearances. After what you and all the other dancers believe regarding him buying out the club last weekend, he’s a very welcome face to see. 
Tonight though, several dancers have come back into the lounge crying because this guy didn’t tip them a fucking dime. Given, a bouncer shows up not ten minutes after each crying face with a nice tray of drinks and an envelope with their stage names on it. 
It’s gotten to the point now that with how long he’s been visiting the club, some girls even roll their eyes at him. Wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does. 
Still, that doesn’t stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of more, more, more money. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Same old, same old at the club half a year later. Saturday night, several regulars, several new faces, and of course, that young rich guy sitting front and center. 
You walked into work just as the sun began to set and there he was. At this point you can tell by the back of his head with that nice hair cut. So many other men show up disheveled, and half of them are already wasted by the time later shows even start. Still, you smile in knowing you’ll make rent again this month. After all, you just spent a bit too much money on some new shoes and outfits. 
Still, but this point regarding this rich ass guy, even you’re getting annoyed. Every saturday he tips you anywhere between five hundred to a thousand dollars. Given, you’re very aware that it’s much more than the other dancers get, and you kind of have been lying about the amount he tips you so they don’t feel bad. It’s the fact that he isn’t giving anyone a chance to really show him a good time. 
Private rooms and VIP services are highly sought after in this club and he can definitely afford it. It just appears that he doesn’t want to get personal with anyone.
Given, there’s no sex involved, of course. It’s just intimate lap dances, music of their choosing, sharing drinks, and occasionally just becoming a therapist for loser old men. Still, you wish he’d give you a chance to really get into your moves. 
And, well, would you look at that.
You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you. 
“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”
You look at yourself in the mirror, popping your lips with the pretty lipgloss before wiping some off that overlined your lips, and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass. 
“Jake, again?” 
The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Jake would be here soon to try and get you to dance for him again though. 
“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe. 
“His name is Park Jongseong, goes by the name of Jay.”
“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”
“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.” 
Nothing else is said by the owner as he turns and walks out. 
“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”
“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays. 
“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good. 
This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity. 
Whoever Jay is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.
“Hi,” You whisper without looking up, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always like when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even. 
The lights are dimmer than usual when you walk in and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others. 
The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.
Oh.
Jackpot.
“Jay?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?” 
He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him. 
“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him. 
“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”
Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.
“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.” 
With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. Business as usual. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it had to be a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with. 
You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him. 
The pole is cold as usual, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You definitely see him watching too, still with that same bored expression despite the money he lends out just to experience it. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips. 
Jay mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now compared to before, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he drags his gaze up and down your mostly-exposed body. 
Noting that you’ve never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Jay actually reacting to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had cum in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it. 
“I think you’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. After all, you always sweet talk clients when it’s a one on one like this, though usually you’re lying. You actually mean it this time. “Do you know the rules?” 
Jay nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night. 
“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It’s lap-dance time at the moment, and like always, you recite the most important rule. 
He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap. 
Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has. 
You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Jay is stoic beneath you but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face. 
Usually, he is great at composing himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure and show you just how fucking badly he wants you. Truly, he can’t embarrass himself by being so obvious.
“I imagine you’re struggling, Jay–” You break him out of his thoughts by calling him out instantly,  turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?” 
He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.
“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him. 
“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him and kind of like, being incredibly attracted to him. You’d probably let him break more than a few rules if he wants it, not just for the tips either.
When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.
“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh cheekily, batting your lashes and bouting your lips at him. 
He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to  just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.
“How much?” He instantly says, smirking as if you could name any price. For him though, hearing you suddenly offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has his mind doing flips.
Rules, rules, fucking rules.
Fuck the rules, he can afford to break them.
You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion is still there if he’s the type to... y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper. 
“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm, knowing the price is too high but flirting anyway. “Touch me and you lose”
You didn’t expect him to nod back at you. 
“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”
You’re fucking floored. Half a million is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free. 
The game is on now though, it seems,  as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over his and everywhere else, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out. 
You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”
Jay groans, nodding shortly. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care. 
“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand from his hair and looks at you with a crooked smile. 
You smile at him, that half a mil is yours. 
“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You’ve wanted to fuck me before?” 
Jay nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock, lending a twitch and hoping you notice it. 
“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.
“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head to look at him. 
When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win. 
“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face, he forces you to look at him. 
“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?” 
You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin. 
“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, despite Jay definitely being a client you want to fuck.
“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?” 
You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. “No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you. 
“I mean…“ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”
Jay’s cock instantly twitches against his pants as he smirks at you with a confident nod.
“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head more as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you too.
Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.
You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “This is what you wanted, right?” He seethes out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.
Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by the sound of it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky me, he thinks. 
After all, he’s watched you for months moving your body like you need a cock to fill it. Not just dancing like the other girls, you would fuck the stage for him and his money. And now? Oh, you’re gonna get fucked. 
Jay doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is because you fucking want it. 
The bet was to not touch you. It appears you’d be pleased with both his cock and his money.
Not because it’s your job either, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special. 
You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching. 
Jay slips a finger into you with ease and without warning, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you’re more wet than he could have imagined. 
“Goddamn, baby, you want it?” He asks, confirming for himself that this is all for him. 
You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him. 
“Good good.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment. 
“Letting your clients fuck you?” His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against, grunting into your ear. “You always do this?”
You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. So fucking thick. 
“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.
When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you. 
In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and feel his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out. 
His cock is so thick, pulsing inside of you and weeping out thick pre-cum, only offering more to the wet you drench him in. 
“Ah, listen to that–” He says, releasing your middle and slamming his hips back and forward just a few times to let the sound of how wet you are echo under the music. “So wet for the money, hm?” He continues, now pressing you into the cushions of the couch, knowing you’ll soon be biting against the fabric. 
You hum against the cushions, rolling your eyes back at the delicious feeling of him paired with his voice. 
“Or is it for me?” He asks now, voice coming out in a low rumble as he slams his hips into you repeatedly with deep pushes and sharp drags. 
You nod again, almost frantically as you lift yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Jay is almost glaring at you with that same devilish smirk on his face. 
Almost as if, even if he’s losing all that money, he’s fucking winning right now. 
 You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan shortly after, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.
And when he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, lying his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure too.
He’s so cocky, but goddamn is it nice to feel a man like this lose composure because of your pussy.
 His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy, fingers gripping both of your ass cheeks and spreading them every few seconds only to release them and watch them bounce together before slapping hard against the flesh.
“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans out as he reaches his hand up and swipes his hair out of his face, and then his hips snap back into you sharply. Almost pointed.
“Knew you would be too, I saw the way you looked at me baby– you wanted it too.” He breathes out with each thrust, as if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Jay on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture. 
“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out now, amazed by how tight your cunt is around him. 
Truly, and not even trying to be rude, he genuinely didn’t think you’d feel this fucking strangled against his cock. It’s perfect. He wants to lay claim so fucking bad, and so, he fucks harder, quicker. 
“Don’t ever let another man pay for this pussy.” 
You nod with a strangled moan, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you when he leans forward, pressing his chest to your back. 
“I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens. “Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He continues to talk, hunched over you, fucking you just right while gripping both of your tips in that slutty bra you’re wearing. 
And before you can even answer in a whimper, a cry, or a moan, you feel his cock pulse inside of you. Seemingly fucking you until he’s empty only because you feel it happen. He releases himself inside of you, cumming spurts of thick white ropes against your quivering walls. 
Right then, he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back and against him and holding you so tightly in place. All you can do is sit still for him, cockwarming him through his orgasm as you try to speak. 
“You wouldn’t be able to stay away anyway–” You try to be snide through the pleasure of feeling his cum bubble out of you. “Look at how fast you came.”
He snarls first at your comment, only to chuckle as he orgasm comes to an end. Truly the sounds he made to your comment were so fucking erotic, you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway. For some reason, having Jay act all possessive over you is much less offensive anyway, compared to the other men who would probably try this with you. 
You don’t see it as him assuming you’re a woman who would allow just any man to have sex with her for money, anyway. You think he knew he’d be able to pull it off. Though, if that weren’t the case, it wouldn’t be any of his fucking business anyway. 
If anything, you decide that he gets possessive when his cock is fucking, and you feel kinda glad that you were the one he picked. 
Not kinda. Actually, you’re fucking over the moon over it. 
The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money is attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again. 
And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and gives your pussy a little tap, as if to comfort you into keeping his cum inside of you for safe keeping. 
And yeah, he knows you didn't cum but to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop. Perhaps you’ll call for him to return the favor? Who knows? (God, he hopes you do.)
By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.
“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.” 
He hopes you take note of what he’s doing. After all, the club has an ATM, he could always just make a couple of transactions for this. 
You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you.  He's actually paying you? You didn’t think he’d really give you half a million, seeing as how much you enjoyed that? Being paid for sex isn’t actually something you do. 
Then again, he’s paying for breaking the rules, not for fucking you. 
“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit?”
“You wouldn’t.” He shrugs first, and laughs second. “You won’t.”
Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held. 
“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.
“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”
He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely? 
“Jay–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.
“Just take the damn card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.” 
“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just leaves it lying against the couch. 
Almost as if, if you don’t take it, someone else will.
“Listen, I don’t normally do this.” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”
“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door. 
“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”
You watch him reach for the doorknob. 
“Saturday?” You ask.
“Saturday.”
And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.
2K notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 4 months
Text
I was thinking about Bucky. A beefy Bucky. A beefy mob Bucky. Who is such a simp. I think now is the perfect time to talk about it cause I need some fluff and look at that, it's also my favorite @wifeofbarnes birthday!
Happy birthday sweet angel, I hope you have one filled with so much love ❤️️❤️️
-
Imagine a brooding beefy mob Bucky pining after his rivals sweet, shy daughter. He has no business liking her, her father was always teetering on the edge of putting a bullet between Bucky's eyebrows but Bucky couldn't help it. She's too cute. Too sweet. Everyone knows there's something between you both between the fleeting glances and the number of times Bucky's left with a blush on his cheeks whenever your around.
For someone who hates meetings, he's more than fond of going to your estate to talk over business with a man he hates so much. He's going to go to every single one of those meeting if it means he gets to see you. He never gets more than a few moments, no more than a few words before he's dragged away by Steve who isn't trying to get stabbed by one of your bodyguards.
-
Bucky swirls his crystal glass, the ice in clinking against each other as he takes a sip of amber liquid, seated at a private booth at the back of the club. The alcohol that's already warming his body heats him up even more when he sees you laughing and giggling with your friends, a cute little birthday girl tiara on top of your head.
Fuck, you were so perfect.
"You're staring again, you creep" Steve snorts but Bucky pays him no mind. He's too busy looking at you in your pretty dress, your hips swaying to the music. Tipsy, maybe even a little drunk, love sick Bucky wants nothing more than to get a moment alone with you but he's smart enough to wait.
Well, sort of.
"Go distract her bodyguards"
"You're going to get us killed"
"Then you'll die knowing it was for a good cause"
Sam and Steve shake their head as they wander off to find your security team, quietly instigating a small scuffle to keep them occupied. You step outside waiting for your car to pull up, frowning when a large black truck stops in front of you instead. The door opens and-
"Bucky, what are you doing!" you squeak as he pulls you into the back of his SUV, setting you on his lap before telling his driver to park in a secluded area and to leave for a "smoke break".
"I wanted to say hi" Bucky shrugs innocently as if its the most obvious thing in the world.
"And this is how you decided to say hi?" You giggle, feeling butterflies bustle around your tummy being so close to him. You could smell his cologne and the warm scent of whiskey clinging onto his lips; you wanted nothing more than to bury yourself into him. The pink on his cheeks deepened at you caught him in his little act, pretending he wasn't admiring you from afar the whole time.
"I didn't know it was your birthday" He shrugs again while you try to wiggle off his lap, worried someone might see you but he huffs and holds you tighter. "The windows are tinted" he reads your mind without you saying anything, feeling your body relax slightly.
"Wish you'd said hi to me earlier" You say with a sigh and Bucky doesn't like the way you look sad now. You would've loved to spend more time with him instead of hiding away like this.
"I can drop you home" He offers with a boyish smile and you shake your head because it's far too risky and there's no way you'd be able to get away with it and sneak it past your father.
"Not unless you plan on posing as the cleaning lady-
"I can do that"
"Bucky-
"I can pull off a maids dress"
"James"
"Then how about a birthday kiss" He cocked his head to the side playfully and you swear your cheeks couldn't get any hotter.
"Bucky-
"Just one birthday kiss?" He pouts and you can't believe this mass of tattoos and muscle is giving you puppy eyes with his pink bottom lip jutting out.
"I-
"Please, sugar?" He whispers, his fingers tracing nimble little shapes on your hips while you chew your lip nervously, giving him a nod because you can no longer formulate words. He leans down to press his lips softly against yours and you sigh at the little whimper he lets out, his hands pawing at you to hold you closer. He feels all warm and fuzzy on the inside, letting his arms hug your body extra tight.
"Another?" He whispers, lips brushing against yours with a plea in his voice and you giggle, kissing him again.
"One more?"
"Bucky"
"Please?" He smiles when you kiss him until you're both breathless, only pulling away when you need air.
-
Imagine how cute he'd be trying to spend more time with you as discreetly as possible. You're usually at home so that's his best bet so he'll work with what he can.
"Why is this large fuck around my house so often" Your father rubbed his temples seeing another message for a meeting to go over shipments and territories. "Seriously, he's here almost every week"
Bucky is able to pull it off for a bit but honestly not for long. He's sitting across your father and it's gotten to the point his guards don't bother waiting by the door because Bucky isn't even a threat. He always comes and goes like it's his own house and they're not blind, silently betting over if this will end in a war or wedding.
"For fucks sake are you here to see me or my daughter" your father finally huffs, no longer able to take Bucky's blushing and shifting after you left his office to give him a coffee. "You're here to see her, aren't you"
Bucky nods like a school child who got caught cause knows he hasn't been discreet with his crush. Your father contemplates tossing Bucky into the lake with rocks tied to his ankles but he's also seen the way you look at him and there's no doubt the feelings are mutual.
"God damnit"
Imagine wedding and 2 babies later, Bucky is still just as in love with you. The cutest part is he's still trying to be sneaky.
"You're married now, why the hell are you still trying to hide" Your father berates the mob boss while bouncing his grandson in his lap seeing Bucky tug you into the kitchen so he could kiss you. "You're 6 feet tall and built like a line backer, you can't exactly hide, son"
Bucky pouts at you while you giggle hearing your father snort from the living room.
"He's right, y'know" you nuzzle into your husband while he engulphs you in his arms. You squeal when he hoists you up instead and makes a beeline towards the bedroom. You still stir something in him to this day and since your dad was there to babysit anyway...
"Bucky, where are we going"
"To go make baby #3"
2K notes · View notes
pacifythots · 4 months
Note
edging the windbre boys ; not requested :]
Tumblr media
[!] ON THE EDGE.
Tumblr media
ⓘ BRINGING THEM TO THE EDGE JUST TO STOP?! gn!reader — smut. includes. sakura, suo, nirei, kaji, umemiya, hiragi, togame, + choji. blow/hand job, ribbons, cock ring, teasing, whining, + edging. aged up 18+ ; now that im writing this, im thinking abt a dry cumming ver...sorry, ive been writing a lot of smut but its the week before my period. im is ovulating, so um...take this <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"I CAN'T TAKE IT, PLEASE!!" or, SCREAMING FOR MERCY. he's whining, begging, repeating your name and a phrase over and over and over again. his breath is stuttering and a couple of tears may fall down his face. like- he's legit going to pass out soon from the edging.
SAKURA is shaking. in all honesty, he can go in both this category and the 'JUST ... A MESS.' category, however, what sets him in this one is his begging. he's sobbing, a blushing mess, pleading with you like he'll fucking die if he doesn't get to cum. like, "pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease," is leaving his lips. his legs, his whole body is shaking at this point and he's begging to cum. like- to the point of babbling he's begging to cum, telling you how good it feels, and mumbling to himself that he can't last any longer. GOD FORBID, you put a cock ring on him? girl- he's gone.
CONT. at a certain point, because he's no pitiful, you decide to take mercy. you're tongue licking a long stripe up his length, hand pumping him earnestly. your tongue circles around the head and he cums, hard. like- a big ass load is dumped into your as he's hunched over and twitching from the relief he got.
Tumblr media
"OOH, YOU'RE GONNA GET IT." or, HE'S ACTIVELY SEEKING REVENGE. this man isn't as much of a mess, in fact, he's doing everything in his power to contain his moans and such. he's trying to be somewhat tough and maintain his composure but he's grunting about paying you back. his hands are definitely tied behind his back, though that doesn't stop him from trying to get out of it.
TOGAME is seething. like- he loves it but he cannot wait to have you over his lap, fingering you and stopping until you get the feeling he's getting right now. he's breathing rough, "ooh, baby. im gonna get you back," he hisses, "i—ngh-oh—fucking promise." his arms might be tied, but he's trying to hard to hump your mouth, seeking any release that could push him over the edge. you'd have put a cock ring on him to get him to stop (hear me out though, a cock cage on togame?). regardless, he's grunting, his abs flexing and relaxing, thighs tensing and shaking, and his toes curled as he swears up and down he'll get you back.
SUO is breathing heavy. he's purposefully trying not to say something, so nothing you can tease him with slips out. unfortunately for him, a grunt that transforms into a whimper has your lips coming off of his cock with a pop! he looks down to see a cocky expression on your face. he huffs with a chuckle, "ooh, mm—damn—when we're done me and you are gonna have a- ngh- very long talk." suo bites his lip to prevent his whimpers from slipping, though he doesn't help himself by watching what you're doing. tying that pretty bright pink ribbon at the base of his cock, he's not against it. he has no problem with "feminine" things, but did you really have to tie it that tight? "hayato! you're staining my ribbon!" suo has to fight himself not to say something, he only chuckles, a hiss leaving his lips. oh, you are so going to get it.
KAJI is literally about to fight you. no bull. of course, being the person he is, he isn't allowed to use his hands. though he wants to, he can't shove your face full of his cock. his tongue swirls around his lollipop in a futile attempt to distract him from the warmth of your hand around him. "damn it! i am—fu-ucking—get- getting you back for this!" his his hips lift urgently off of the bed you've got him tied to. his legs are shaking; dazed and low-lidded eyes staring down at you as is orgasm builds, only to fall off at the last second. he nearly growls, swearing he'll get you back (in his head).
CONT. he isn't geting relief (none of them). he's normally a man with a lot of confidence, and yet, he's fucking trembling because he can't cum? i mean sure, he's out to get you later, but it's completely worth it to watch his eyes roll back into his skull, his hips practically convulsing, and thick ropes of cum shoot from his tip and stain his stomach. plus, the breathy "fuck" nearly has you doing the same.
Tumblr media
MR. CAN'T SPEAK, or HE'S REALLY FOCUSED. the man is nearly silent. he either doesn't want to make a noise, or he's like- breathless. he may be huffing, eyebrows furrowed so deeply he'll cause permanent wrinkles. he's looking down at you, but he's more so focusing on not losing his shit because he can't cum. like- "fuckfuckfuck ... " is going through his head while he fights internal demons, and you. how dare you look at him with those pretty eyes?!
HIRAGI strikes me as a quiet man in bed, especially when something like this is happening. his core is tense; his face is tense. eyebrows knitted, eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched, and thighs flexed. he tries so hard not to—to which he fails—though at some point, he genuinely can't. he's moaned and groaned, even whimpered, and now a sound can't come out of his mouth. he's so close to losing it he's lost his voice to beg or whine. "damn—" he croaks, body trembling.
CONT. hes another one where your mercy is his salvation. he just looks so cute- why would make him suffer more? its not until he's allowed to cum does his let out a string of pretty noises, sweat dripping down his forehead and body shaking.
Tumblr media
JUST ... A MESS, or SELF EXPLANITORY. he's losing his fucking shit. this man is damn near wailing because he can't cum. he can't get the release he wants and he's losing his shit. fat globs of tears spill down his cheeks, there may even be snot. he's barely coherent, babbling pleads and jumbled strings of words to get you to let him cum.
NIREI is the one literally about to die from being denied. honestly, the display has you wanting to stop. he's sobbing, his voiced cracked, snot dripping from his nose, and body shaking like a leaf. he barely tell you "sorry," or "please," let alone fully beg. his words are mindless babble, strings of saliva falling from his lips, a web of them shown in his mouth. he keens and whines, "puh- plea- plea-ease!" when i say he's vibrating in his spot, i mean it. hes is NAWT the type of person to be able to handle this type of sexual activity (you can't overstim him either).
CHOJI is ... something. i see choji as someone who isn't too interested in sex, though when it happens he's sooo sensitive. and ridiculously whiny. like- the man will not shut up. he's whining your name, pleading, whispering to himself, cursing—anything. at some point tears start to form and he gets shocked at the waves of pleasure that appear and disappear. he almost gets mad until your tongue starts to work him. his eyes get low-lidded and his body relaxes, it feels to him as if a wave is inches from sweeping him away, and then you stop. and then he sobs. and then he gets mad. then you get back at it. cycle repeats. "i- urgh! can't- can't—awh!" he's legit a fucked up mess, whining and crying like a girl, convulsing and breathing heavy as hell.
CONT. you have to let him at this point, he's not surviving a minute longer. his cock is raw and stiff from your strokes; at one moment, you thought he had accidentally came because of how much pre-cum seeped from the tip. he almost passed out once he cums, that's how much he needed it.
Tumblr media
IT DEPENDS or THE OUTLIER WHO'S MULTIPLE. he can range from sobbing and crying for you, to telling himself not to cum, to being a complete and utter mess. it genuinely depends on how he feels that day, what happened. is he letting lose? is he still up tight? does he need to blow off some steam? it really depends on his mental state. he could go from
UMEMIYA grunts. his breaths are shaky, chest stuttering. he's laughing at both you and himself, he's certainly having fun with the moment. though, his body is being a little fickle. one second he's too hot, he's about to burn up, then the next its calm, though there's that painful pleasure in his groin from being denied. he laughs, "it looks good on me, it's—fuck—like y'r openin' a- pre-present." he looks down at the bow you've tied around his cock. of course, he asked for it. it looks better than he thought. he lets out a shaky breath, core tensing as he tries to keep his noises inside. though, to no avail, as he's a naturally loud person. his grunting and groaning fills the room, tears brimming at his eyes, and saliva pooling on his bottom lip. he bites his lip, chuckling, "fuck—y'r making me lose it!" he moans, "ooh, im gettin' you back."
CONT. he broke from his restraints, a stupid mess and all and forced your mouth to stay lodged on him until he finished shooting ropes down your throat. he watches in amusement as you cough, looking down at the mess he's been made of. he 100% got you back seconds later.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
Text
man im just like. thinking about egg signs and how they've evolved over the course of the qsmp and how the qsmp has evolved over the course of the qsmp and just feeling so much love and affection for every part of the project. i dont have any grand overarching point with this just. like. here's a history of egg comms bc of the kind of person that i am
so wayyyy back ten months ago now at the start of the short and sweet egg event that was planned to last maybe a month at most, the eggs had their own custom, decorated signs!
Tumblr media
[ID: Leo with a pink sign with an egg on the bottom corner that reads "hello" in all caps. Her nametag reads Leonardo. End ID]
They were extremely simple, single word signs. There was hello, hola, story, feed, sleep, and maybe one or two more and each was its own separate sign. The eggs could only communicate the most basic needs in words and everything else was through minecraft body language or just hoping their parents guessed right.
But obviously, there was a lot more that parents wanted to hear from their children. I'm not sure who was actually first, but the earliest departure from this system I know about is BadBoyHalo giving Dapper a simple oak sign so he could name his pet slime. (Screenshot from @/lxrd-ren)
Tumblr media
[ID: Dapper wearing a diver's helmet standing next to a tiny slime in a boat with an oak sign reading "Bouncy (slmecicle but better)" End ID]
Parents quickly realized how much more convenient this was and pretty soon every single egg had stacks of signs to communicate with.
The next innovation came from Vegetta, who was the resident mod knower at the time. He knew about colored canvas signs and gave Leo signs in her favorite color purple because he loved her and gave her everything she wanted.
Tumblr media
[ID: Leo's bed in her room under some Fooligetta fanart with a purple sign reading "<3" End ID]
Colored signs obviously had a lot of advantages. Being able to tell at a glance which egg placed which sign was a huge step forward in eggs being able to have long, complicated conversations as well as leaving obvious marks of their personality everywhere they went. It took a little while for them to be standard for every egg though. Bobby never stopped using oak signs even after Richas and Pomme both showed up with colored signs.
Tumblr media
[ID: Two signs reading from right to left a red Pomme sign reading "we already started working on a guillotine factory" and a dark grey Dapper sign reading "thats the most french u have said so far pomme" End ID]
And this was the system for a while! And it worked pretty well for most people! The biggest struggle most people had was egg signs not being translated, but streamers adjusted to that by reading signs out loud so the translators would pick up on them. This also lead to adorable and fascinating dynamics like Richas swearing in signs he wrote for Bad and then warning Bad not to read them out. There was also the genuinely phenomenal development of Leolingo where Leo writes only in Spanish to Foolish because it's easier for her to write and he takes his time to puzzle his way through it and learn in a way that's super cool to watch someone else do onscreen.
Then Tubbo joined the server. And Tubbo himself had no problems at all with the system, but he is dyslexic and he casually mentioned offhand that it was getting kind of annoying to read signs after a ten hour long stream and the admin team Fucking Cooked.
Within 24 hours, they had TTS working on the signs. Within 48 hours, it was working on books too. I can't remember how long it took to get translation working, but it was definitely under a week.
And this opened up a whole new world of possibilities for the entire QSMP. The admin team has been on top of capitalizing on it for story purposes, but also just allowing the egg admins to speak in their native languages to everyone whenever they want has been so enriching for everyone involved. Leolingo is awesome but Foolish has been learning Spanish insanely fast and his process is a lot slower and more frustrating than most people can do in front of an audience of thousands of people without feeling discouraged. That's also one language. We've had everything from Foolish being able to check his work a bit more faster to Phil insisting on his eggs taking a day to speak to him in their native languages to Ramón writing a book for Fit in Cantonese, a language we haven't even seen on the server in any other context!
And all of it is fully understood and fully communicated! Sometimes the translators mess up but no one expects them to be perfect and people ask for clarification if the translator says something that doesn't sound right. It's not only a massive step forward in communication technology, but it's a great demonstration of how to use it and when you can and can't rely on it.
And finally, the most recent innovation! One of BBH's viewers sent him a dono saying they had trouble reading certain signs because they were too low-contrast. Bad, Richas, and Pomme just. Took it upon themselves to fix the problem right there and then. Based on One (1) bringing up their own personal struggle, those three came up with new signs that innovate tremendously on the originals.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[ID: Two separate images of the before and after. The first is the egg signs in their original colors with the corresponding egg's name written on them to demonstrate the font color and the second is in the new, higher contrast colors with the same text. The new signs also have custom decorations for each egg. The second picture also has two signs from Pomme in all caps that read "Send all the love to Richas he spent a whole night making this he's the best <3" End ID]
There are three main innovations visible in the above pictures
1: Obviously, the colors are higher contrast. The signs with white text have darker colors and the signs with black text have lighter colors.
2: The colors themselves are lower saturation. Richas said this made it easier for him personally to read them so he corrected that way, but that's open to change if it causes difficulties for more people than it helps
3: The decorations are for accessibility reasons! People with various different forms of colorblindness will find different sets of colors easier or harder to distinguish, but any of them can look at the decorations and use them to identify whose sign is whose instead.
But! Those innovations are not why I made this post! It's these ones!
Tumblr media
[ID: The backs of the new signs when placed on the ground. Most visible are Chayanne's with vines and a hardcore heart, Sunny's with shining sunglasses, and Pomme's with an apple and the Eiffel Tower. End ID]
Richas added distinguishing marks to the backs of the signs too! This is something that Bad brought up specifically as something he wanted because it was hard for him to tell who was talking when he was using TTS from behind signs and couldn't see the colors at all.
We went from custom egg signs (a hotbar or so of words and nothing else to communicate with) through a long journey of expanding communication and expanding who we're bringing along on the communication and how easily they can join in and we've circled all the way back around to custom egg signs (they can say anything they want in any language they want and anyone will know it's them saying it from any angle)
and i guess i have enough feelings abotu that to write All This about it
2K notes · View notes