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fantasylandloser · 3 days

Text

Winner

Pairing: Coach!Tashi x fem!Reader x Coach!Art

Warnings: 18+, smut, too filled with shame to proofread, dom!tashi, sub!art, sub!reader, mentions of spanking, tashi is so mean in this, art is basically a prop with minimal lines, idk

*******

Training with Tashi Duncan and her husband was an honor. You knew that. You did your very best to remember that; which was hard to do when she had days like this.

“Are you scared of the fucking ball?” You shake your head, but you know better than that at this point.

“Speak up!” You flinch before you can stop yourself.

“No, I'm not scared of the ball.” You say.

“I would hope not- considering how long you’ve been doing this. That’d surely be a disappointment to your little fan club that you love so much. “ Tashi watched the way your eyebrows tinge only for a moment, at the mention of the onlookers who follow your career closely.

It was no secret that you had a great appreciation for the love that they’d shown you, but it was almost like you were completely unaware of how quickly it would be gone if you weren’t up to par at all times.

From afar Art watched the scene play out. You were the player that Tashi was the hardest on. He was sure it was to do with the fact that you were just like her. Well except for the fact that you lacked confidence in your abilities. Another reason she was hard on you. She wouldn’t see your potential wasted. But you worked hard like her, tennis was the love of your life like her.

He watched as Tashi served to you, intense and laser focused. Then you, playing back with the same intensity and just as passionate. It’s almost magical to watch until you hesitate and miss the ball.

Tashi’s on your ass before the ball can even hit the ground. “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you in it?”

You stammer a reply that Art can’t hear. Probably an apology. His feet are moving closer before he can even think of a reason why.

“No, tell me. What’s got you so off your game lately? Because you’re not going to fucking embarrass me at your next matches because you can’t get your head out your ass.”

“Tash lighten up.” He’s ignored which is to be expected. She stares at you intensely awaiting your answer.

“How am I supposed to lighten up when she’s playing like she never held a racket before, huh?” Again she sees the twitch in your eyebrows. Good, you’re angry.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know-” Tashi holds up her hand. She doesn’t want your apology.

“You know what- if you don’t want to tell me what the problem is,” She grabs your phone which has been continuously lighting up since you started. “I’m sure this will.’

You draw in a breath of air in surprise but you make no move to stop her. Your eyes wide at the invasion, but still ever so respectful even when your privacy is being violated.

Almost immediately her eyebrows sprout up. “I thought we agreed on no boyfriends for this reason?” she shakes her head continuing to scroll through your phone as if it were hers. Art draws closer to her in interest, now intrigued about your phone as well,

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You’re embarrassed, your grip on your racket tightening as you get angry at the way she’s shaming you.

“Obviously.” She mutters. She pauses a moment, both her and Art sharing a look and you know they’ve gotten to the most mortifying part.

“Well if something would shake someone’s confidence it would be that.” You cringe, finally going to take your phone back only to be pushed back by Tashi.

“What did we talk about when it came to how you let people talk to you off the court and how it affects your game on the court?” You barely refrain from rolling your eyes.

“I can’t control what other people say” You can’t stop the edge in your voice.

“But you can control what you say. You didn’t even try to stand up for yourself. This-” She shoves the phone at you with a picture of you half naked with the word unfuckable, in the center of the screen. “Is pathetic. “ You look away when she starts scrolling more like you don’t already know the rest of the verbal assault that had been issued towards you, and then a video of your so-called boyfriend with your next opponent and the lewd graphics that came with it.

“What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?” You don’t mean for your response to be so angry. Or for the hot tears that started burning your eyes to fall. But the frustrations of your day had started to take a toll on you. So when you finally snatch your phone back from Tashi and get ready to storm off you miss the pleased look on her face. Art doesn’t though, he almost shakes his head knowing it was her intention to rile you up in the first place.

She raises an eyebrow at him, and just as she expects him to, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. The perfect good cop. “It’s okay, kid.” You’re tense in his arms, it reminds him of the times he’s tried to comfort Tashi and she wouldn’t allow it, but after a few moments of him rubbing your back you finally relax. .

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” You start, but Tashi interrupts.

“Apologize for standing up for yourself and I’ll make you run until you pass out.” You wipe your eyes roughly and nod. Stepping away from Art’s hug and trying your best to put your game face back on.

“You got that out of your system now?” You nod again, but after a pointed gaze you speak.

“Yes.”

“Good now let’s talk about how you respond to this kind of bad sportsmanship.”

******

The outfit Tashi has you in, is just barely appropriate, You look focused, despite the whistles you’ve received on your way in. You look a little angry actually.

Art glances at Tashi beside him, who looks all too pleased. “What’d you do?”

“I didn’t have to do anything.” She’s almost bragging. He follows her line of sight to Tashi’s opponent and sees her and your not boyfriend smirking at you.

He wants to ask Tashi if she thinks this will shake your confidence more, but then he looks back at you laser focused as you stretch and he decides not to question it.

The match starts off intense with your serve. Your opponent looks surprised and even though she quickly recovers. Art can tell that this will be a win for you even though he knows Tashi despises that kind of over confident thinking.

As the match continues Tashi is gripping her seat for support. So enthralled in the game and invested in the fearlessness you’re displaying she can barely contain herself.

At one point during a break you’re caught trash talking your opponent. Tashi is sure to get you for it later. Even though the only thing she hears clearly is “enjoy my sloppy seconds” with a saccharine smile on your face. The deduction you receive is definitely worth it.

When you win as expected. Tashi is nearly buzzing and Art can’t hold back his excitement either.

****

“See this is what happens when you’re a winner.” Tashi tells you. She quite literally holding Art’s balls as he fucks into you.

“Winners are fuckable, tell her Art.” He gasps, feeling her squeeze him.

“Fuck-” He breathes. “Did so good.” You spasm around him at the praise, pulling a loud groan from him. “Knew you were gonna win, kid.”

Your whines and whimpers are muffled by Tashi’s hand. “Fuck her faster, she’s gonna come.” Art obeys immediately despite the fact that he is much too close himself. Your eyes roll back at the change of pace.

“There you go.” She squeezes Art’s balls once you start cumming so that he can too. He tries to pull himself out of you before but he can’t and leaves a sticky mess all over your cunt. “Fuck”

Tashi mounts you before you can stop twitching, lining her pussy up with yours, holding your leg over her shoulder. “Now next time I tell you to do something,, you’ll listen to me.” She starts slowly, spreading the mixture of both you and Art’s orgasm on both of you.

“Isn’t that right?” You nodding makes her speed up, giving you that look of disapproval.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, yes, yes I’ll listen to you.”

“Yeah I know you will, because now you know what good girls get.” She continues to grind against you skilfully.

“And next time you don’t listen to me-” You feel your core tense up again. “I will spank you until you cry.” Just like that you’re gone again. The masochistic side of you envisioning the picture that will haunt your fantasies until you get it.

You don’t realize the loud moan you hear is you, until Art is kissing you sloppily to silence your cries. ‘You like that don’t you?” You hear Tashi say. You want to tell her yes but you can’t with Art’s tongue down your throat. You think she knows the answer anyway.

The contrast between the way that Tashi is fucking you so vigorously and the slow kisses Art is giving you puts your head in a spin. On top of that your overstimulated clit is making it hard for you to think at all.

“Coach please-” You beg. “My pussy can’t;” You’re cut off immediately.

“Who knows what's best for you? Me or you?”

“You!” By this time tears are flowing down your face, as you feel another orgasm building all too quickly. Art wipes them, then moves his hands down to pinch your nipples.

“Exactly. Now cum.”

#challengers #tashi duncan #tashi donaldson #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #tashi x art #tashi x reader #tashi x art x reader #tashi duncan smut #fantasylandloserfic

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sunny44 · 2 days

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She’s mine

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!reader

Warnings: just a sexy blurb.

Summary: Where Y/n makes a plan to get Max to finally admit that he likes her.

The night was young, and the vibrant atmosphere of the club pulsed with electrifying energy. I walked across the dance floor, my scandalous red dress capturing the attention of everyone around me. I knew I was being excessive, but sometimes, being subtle simply wasn't an option.

My eyes met Charles's across the dance floor, and a mischievous smile played on his lips as I approached him. I knew Charles was Max's friend, and we had exchanged messages earlier for me to explain my plan to make Max act once and for all.

"Charles.” I said, my sweet voice laden with a suggestive tone. "Having fun?"

Charles winked, a wicked smile playing on his lips. He knew exactly what I as up to, and he was more than willing to help.

"Loads, but eager to see Max's reaction to your plan.” Y/n laughed, a melodious sound that echoed over the thumping music.

"Thanks for helping me, by the way. Your friend is a slowpoke."

"Yeah, I thought he would have made a move by now with the way you two act."

"Me too." He laughed, and I noticed Max finding me in the middle of the crowd, his smile evident as soon as he saw who was with me. So, I leaned close to Charles's ear and spoke. “Max is not liking what he's seeing right now. Do you think we should dance and make him even more jealous?"

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

And so, the two of us began to dance, moving to the rhythm of the music as my plan unfolded. I could feel Max's eyes on me, and it was exactly what I wanted.

I was determined to make him finally take action.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the dance floor, Max watched with jealous eyes ablaze. He knew I was flirting with Charles, and he couldn't contain the whirlwind of emotions consuming him.

He navigated through the crowd to the DJ booth, where Martin commanded the beats.

"Martin, turn off the music.” he ordered, his voice heavy with urgency.

"What? Why?"

"Just turn off the music for a minute, please.” he said, somewhat irritated.

Martin raised an eyebrow but nodded, understanding that something important was happening.

With the music dimmed, all eyes turned to Max as he pointed to Y/n, who was now illuminated by the spotlight, her red dress shining like a blazing flame in the club's darkness.

"Are you all seeing that girl?" Max's voice echoed through the club, and besides the light, he also pointed his finger at me. "Talk to her, look at her, or breathe near her, and you'll have a problem with me. She's mine."

I felt a shiver run down my spine as Max's eyes locked onto me, a wild intensity that made me tremble slightly.

But then I saw Charles's mischievous smile, and I knew it had all been worth it.

My heart raced as I saw Max coming towards me, maneuvering through the people who had started dancing again when Martin had turned the music back on.

"Max..."

He took my hands, pulling me close to him, and kissed me, and it was one of those breath-taking kisses.

"I know I've been an idiot all this time, procrastinating instead of asking you to be my girlfriend, but I can't deny anymore what I feel for you."

"Finally.” I say, and he looks at me surprised. "You really are an idiot, I had to plan with Charles to make you jealous so that you finally admitted out loud that you want me as your girlfriend."

"You two planned this?"

"Obviously, don't get me wrong, Charles is hot but not really my type."

"And what's your type?"

"Dutch, world champion, and completely clueless when a hot girl is after him." He laughs and pulls me closer.

"There are plenty of hot girls after me."

"Yeah, but I'm the only one who will get something else out of you." I whispered back and saw the hairs on his neck stand up.

"Wanna get out of here?"

"Definitely."

Bonus scene!

Maxverstappen instagram stories

“She’s definitely mine”

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transmutationisms · 2 days

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any thoughts on the obsession with "hyperprocessed foods"? is there even such a thing and if so how much of the stuff around it is fake?

such a flawed useless categorisation lmao; this phrase comes from the nova scale, according to which an "ultra-processed food" is identified by a lack of sufficient "intact" food and the presence of "sources of energy and nutrients not normally used in culinary preparations" and additives specifically "used to initate or enhance the sensory qualities of food or to disguise unplatable aspects of the final product" (other additives, such as preservatives, antioxidants, and stabilisers, only qualify a food as group 3, "processed"). ultra-processing is defined as "a multitude of sequences of processing [...] includ[ing] several with no domestic equivalents," and ultra-processed foods are "usually packaged attractively and marketed intensely."

......so ok, first of all, this is very obviously reliant on a lot of assumptions about what 'normal' cooking and cooking equipment means, lmao. i do all kinds of shit in the kitchen that would have been inaccessible to someone in the mid nineteenth century; has the food become 'less processed' because i can make it at home now? if i obtained the equipment to hydrogenate oils myself would they magically not be ultra-processed simply because they came from my kitchen and not from an industrial setting?

this is just quasi-scientific language to express a fundamental distrust of food produced in ways that currently can't be replicated in [researchers' definitions of] a [normal] home kitchen. it's barely more sophisticated than platitudes like michael pollan's command to "eat only foods your grandmother would recognise". using the nova classifications to make assumptions about the healthfulness or danger of a food is just silly; the presumption is that the dietary and medical effects are not due to the food itself but to how it's produced, an idea that has led researchers to conclude that "the NOVA system suffers from a lack of biological plausibility so the assertion that ultra-processed foods are intrinsically unhealthful is largely unproven."

fundamentally the only evidence that nutritional scientists have been able to produce is observational studies showing a correlation between certain ill health outcomes and consumption of 'ultra-processed food'.

But the observational studies also have limitations, said Lauren O’Connor, a nutrition scientist and epidemiologist who formerly worked at the Department of Agriculture and the National Institutes of Health. It’s true that there is a correlation between these foods and chronic diseases, she said, but that doesn’t mean that UPFs directly cause poor health.

Dr. O’Connor questioned whether it’s helpful to group such “starkly different” foods — like Twinkies and breakfast cereals — into one category.

[...]

Clinical trials are needed to test if UPFs directly cause health problems, Dr. O’Connor said. Only one such study, which was small and had some limitations, has been done, she said.

ie, when evaluating the healthfulness of foods you have to actually look at what they are and what the human body does with them, and not just make a bunch of wild assumptions based on fears about their lack of proximity to 'naturalness' or propensity to be advertised (unlike, i guess, other more intact foods, which are not commodities. who knew!)

and there are like a million trillion other reasons why this correlation might hold: off the top of my head, for instance, people who rely more on the convenience of ready-made foods likely to be categorised as 'ultra-processed' are likely to be people who can't cook because they don't have time because they're working. so as usual nutrition and health science does a dogshit job distinguishing between the health effects of socioeconomic status and those of whatever some dickwad wants to publish a splashy study about.

there are certainly 'ultra-processed' foods that we can be extremely confident are harmful to human health---for example, trans fats. but the categorisation as a whole is so conceptually flawed as to be useless for any purpose besides as a term that 'scientises' culturally held beliefs about the wholesomeness and healthfulness of home food preparation, and the corresponding danger and artificiality of industrial production and methods.

#hps #sorry long ass post this is a bugbear of mine lol

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eelnoise · 3 days

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with hearts aligned (nsfw!)

zoro x fem!reader this fic's followup btw. takes place between fishman island and PH (yes there's lore!! 🙄! and yes zoro did keep all that shit bottled up for a bit!!) cw: confessions of love, somewhat troubled zoro, not-so-awkward first times (our boy is intuitive okay ?!), piv sex, fingering, cute stuff idk an: okay i know this took a long time but i re-wrote this like 5 times and accidently got hyperfixated on ffxiv and generally needed a break from writing BUT WE ARE BACK BABY !!! wc: 3.4k tagging @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @sleepymarimo @willowbelle @nina-ya

The clinking of cutlery upon plates and chatter among friends fills the small island tavern with animated joy and serene relief. Brook plays the violin somewhere to the left side of the room, though the eager blathering of the crew drowns out the more finer notes and melodies played.

A well-deserved interruption and a welcome change from the unpredictable nature of the past few day’s events – though for Zoro, it’s a distraction that’s come to an end. Despite the crew being whole again, he still feels a hollowness within – something no amount of eating or drinking or fighting can fill.

And it’s entirely his fault.

You sit across the table from him, sipping at a near-empty glass of wine and discussing something inaudibly with Usopp. He can’t quite read your expression from where he’s seated, but you look interested enough in the conversation.

And if it’s obvious to himself that he’s keeping you at arm’s length, it’s clear to anyone with a working conscience that he’s doing his utmost to avoid you. The many longing gazes from his peripheral do not go unnoticed, but he dares not to look – for the hurt in your eyes would crush him and sear and stain into his soul. A far-flung difference from the camaraderie that came before all of this, when the two of you were rarely found an inch too far apart from one another – and now Zoro can’t even look you in the eye. After his many imagined intimate rendezvous,how could he?

With you distracted, he lets his eye wander across your face, to the length of your arm, down to the glass pinched between your fingers – but it comes to rest upon your lips. He watches, transfixed on the flight peek of your tongue behind your teeth when you speak, how your lips twist with each syllable, how they purse when you’re in thought, and the way they stretch across your cheeks when you smile.

Zoro’s throat tightens, a sharp dagger of guilt carving into his chest. He forces his stare to the table, the tiniest sliver of your form still lingering in the corner of his vision. You’ve journeyed this far, fought, bled, and laughed together. And now, for once, he’s unable to find the words to say.

The weight of his inaction bears down on him, leaving him listless. The only respite he’s found is in the distraction of a battle, a thudding, a clash, steel ringing against steel. In those moments, he’s alive, he’s focused, and the words that plague his every waking thought cease to exist. But without the battle, Zoro is left with nothing but the echoes of unspoken desires.

His hand trembles, gripping his mug of ale as he brings it to his lips. The bitterness of the brew does little to quell the fire in his chest. He’s a swordsman, a pirate – not a poet, bard, or a man of words. It’s a mess of feelings. Lust, want, longing, love, all these indescribable sensations that only serve to make Zoro feel weak and helpless and vulnerable when faced with them. He feels like a coward, daring never to speak to you again, never to confess his feelings, and never pulling you into his arms and kissing you senseless.

Zoro’s eye meets yours for one singular fleeting moment, the intensity of the connection making his heart race. He knows he can’t keep up this charade, this dance of avoidance – but how does one even confess to these feelings? How does one bridge the gap between comrade and lover? He scratches his chin, trying to come up with a solution, but all he can think of is a single, frustrating fact: he can’t keep running.

Whether it’s every empty bottle he’s seen the bottom of tonight, the last of his resolve wearing thin, or just the sheer guilt of it all that drives him suddenly to his feet, he isn’t sure. Inhaling one of the deepest breaths he’s ever taken, he silently trudges around the table to where you’re seated.

At first, he hovers awkwardly so as to not interrupt the conversation you’re having. Both hands come to rest at either side of the back of your chair and he can feel his pulse through his fingertips on the wood – and when you tilt your head up to look at him, a curious smile twitching at the edges of your cheeks, he cracks.

Zoro clears his throat and forces his gaze. “I need to talk to you for a sec.”

His voice is hoarse as he asks, and he hopes you can’t hear the nerves that lie beneath his words. Surprised by how much he’s sweating and how his heart races against his ribcage, he swallows to regain some semblance of composure.

“It’s important,” he adds, trying not to stumble over his thoughts. It’s a pitiful excuse, but all that comes to mind amidst the maelstrom of emotion in his head.

“Oh, yeah – of course!” You reply with raised brows and begin to stand. Zoro allows you the room to move, taking a step back from the table. “Sorry, Usopp,” you say as you turn and give him a weak shrug, “Remind me where we left off later?”

“No prob!” The sniper shoots a thumbs-up and the two of you exchange a wave before you turn to follow Zoro away from the lively table and out of the tavern.

Zoro leads you to a quiet spot by the docks nearby, where the salty scent of the sea mingles with the faint tang of fish and the distant hum of the island. He can’t bring himself to look at you, electing instead to focus on the water and the twinkling reflection of the night sky in the soft waves.

“Everything okay?” You ask softly, taking a few steps toward him and assuredly taking note of his hesitance. “What’s up?”

“I missed you,” Zoro replies, fixated on the sigh of the shifting tides lapping at the wooden posts below. “A lot.”

“I missed you too, Zoro, but what’s so urgent?” The concern in your tone is apparent and caring, and normally works to soothe him when his mind runs rampant – but this moment, this situation he finds himself in, it does the opposite.

“No,” Zoro shakes his head, his fingers twitching at his sides. “I missed you - differently from the others.”

“Differently?”

Zoro’s jaw clenches, and part of him wants to jump into the ocean and swim as far away from the island as his arms will take him. The honest admission hangs heavy on his tongue, the weight of the years of denial suddenly threatening to push it out. He pauses, opens and closes his mouth a few times, then finally, with a shaky exhale, he looks you straight in the face.

“I love you.”

The admission hangs between you, the weight of years of suppression. Zoro shifts his weight from one foot to the other, twinges of regret creeping up the nape of his neck. It takes you a moment to reply, and considering the nature of the confession, it's reasonable. Zoro's nerves feel like hot coals beneath his skin as he watches your face for any sign of an answer.

“...for real?” Your gentle response fills his entire being with a wistful spark of hope.

Zoro's fingers curl into fists. "Yes, for real," he confirms, still not looking up. His heart thuds painfully in his chest, a heavy, leaden weight. All his hopes and fears rest on the outcome of this conversation. He's unsure if he could handle rejection, but he can't go back to the pretense any longer. Zoro swallows, tasting bile at the back of his throat. "I should've told you before now, but I... I'm an idiot.” He lets out a humorless laugh, his voice quiet.

He isn’t sure when you move, but a smaller, softer hand wraps around his – and in an instant, he feels himself relax into your touch. Zoro relaxes his grip, allowing your fingers to entwine with his.

He snaps his gaze towards you, his heartbeat ringing loudly in his ears. You peer at him, a sweet, crooked smile on your lips and a blush across your face. And when your free hand finds purchase on his cheek, Zoro finds himself leaning in.

You meet him halfway in a genuine, tender kiss that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through him. Zoro's arms wrap around you and pull you close. The world around falls away as you both delight in the embrace. The kiss is gentle, delicate, and filled with longing. It floods him with an unexpected warmth – and for once, he can't think of the past or the future. He's simply lost in the present moment.

When you finally pull away, Zoro can't help but lean into your palm on his cheek with a bit of a dazed smile on his face. Holding onto your hand, his other hand slowly moves to cup your cheek in return. His heart is pounding, his mind a blank slate tinged with overwhelming happiness. He's lost in your gaze, unable to speak, but he doesn't need to. The moment says everything.

"Do you know how much I missed you?" you murmur, lips ghosting his and thumb trailing upward to gently trace the lower half of the scar that now covers his right eye. "How often I thought of you?"

And then you say it - the words he's only imagined hearing you speak.

"I love you, too.”

Zoro's chest tightens, a lump forming in his throat as he meets your gaze, his heart swelling. Words fail him, the raw emotion in his gut silences his voice. A slow smile spreads across his lips, a look of awe and joy shadowing his features. He doesn't need words. The simple fact that you feel the same is enough to fill him with warmth and peace.

Leaning in again, Zoro captures you in another deep kiss – a deep and soulful kiss that speaks volumes. He's consumed by the feeling of being with you, of finally being able to express his love. His hand moves to cup the back of your head, pulling you closer, and he kisses you with all the passion and longing he's suppressed for far too long.

You sigh into him, the sound willingly swallowed by Zoro’s growing hunger. Arms wrap around his shoulders and you press yourself into him, the opened-mouthed kiss quickly turning into a twist of tongues dancing together in a frenzied rhythm with audible smacks of saliva mixing with each meeting of your lips. His hand clutches your hair more firmly, his other hand slipping around her waist to pull you impossibly closer.

The gesture is all-consuming, a whirlpool of desire and affection that leaves him lightheaded. For the first time in years, he feels like he's truly alive, his heart beating in perfect harmony with yours.

Slowly breaking the kiss, Zoro's lips ghost over your jawline, trailing down to your collarbone as he breathes in your scent, savoring every moment. He wants to memorize the taste, the feel, and the sound of your breath as his hands roam over your body, his heart beating a furious tempo.

You let out a small gasp when his lips touch your sensitive flesh, your body reacting to his every move. Goosebumps raise in the wake of his fingertips as he nibbles at your neck, causing your grip to tighten and for you to moan softly into his ear.

Part of Zoro wants to take you here and now, but what remains of his will stops him. He growls into your neck and lifts you up fully and, – with a little assistance from you – heads in the direction of the ship anchored nearby. The others wouldn't be back for a while, so why not take advantage of the privacy?

You’re weightless in his arms as he carries you away from the bustle of the small island village and towards the deck of the Thousand Sunny. Zoro can feel himself growing hard beneath the fabric of his pants as you kiss and nip along his neck, giggling in his ear when he retaliates with a playful squeeze to your rear and a rumbling growl against your skin.

He wastes little time pushing the door to the men’s quarters open with the tip of his boot, his grip on your hips tightening when he moves to lift you onto the nearest bunk, one hand still clutching your waist while the other travels up under your shirt to caress your chest, deft hands making quick work of unhooking your bra and tossing it aside to be forgotten.

Zoro’s breathing hitches, his eyes dark and lustful as he dips his head to suckle at the swell of your breast. He can feel himself twitching against your thigh, and despite his inexperience, he wants nothing more than to please you.

He kisses down your body, taking a nipple into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue while his hand roams, finding your core already soaked with desire. He pauses, fingers grazing over your clothed slit and feeling you shiver in pleasure. Zoro murmurs your name, and snakes his fingers beneath the waistband of both your shorts and panties before sliding them down your legs in one motion, leaving you naked and bared before him. His own pants follow suit, quickly discarded next to yours.

Zoro's hand finds its way between your thighs again, spreading your folds with ease, and he lowers his head to kiss you once more, his tongue probing your mouth as his fingers gently stroke your clit, drinking in your soft moans.

"Show me." He whispers just loud enough for her to hear. His expression is a loving one, though she notes the slightest bit of hesitance in his words.

Show me how you like it.

You nod and guide his fingers, taking two of the large digits and easing them in circles on your clit. "Not too rough, though," you say patiently, letting go of him with a soft sigh and an encouraging smile.

Zoro hums in acknowledgment, his thumb and forefinger doing as you ask, the slickness of your pussy allowing his fingers to move easily as he continues to tease at your clit. His other hand rests on your hip, steadying you as his thumb rolls over the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting small moans from you.

Zoro brushes the tip of his finger against your entrance in an experimental move, and by the way you wreathe and whine, he's urged to continue his work. He slides one past your folds and inside of you, making your toes curl and your back arch.

"Shit–" You sputter out between breathless sighs of desire. "Feels really good..."

One finger becomes two, your inner walls clenching around them as he scissors them in and out of your pussy. There's a wet slosh of sound coming from where you meet, your wetness audibly coating his fingers and dripping down down his wrist.

Zoro's breath hitches at the sound of your pleasure, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your reaction. He's entranced by how your body responds to him, and he can't help but lick his lips as he continues to finger you. He adds a third, the stretch making you gasp and tighten around him.

His pace increases, his fingers swirling and thrusting within you, and he watches as your body writhes and arches beneath him. He can feel the tension building in you, the way your breath hitches and your eyes flutter closed.

"Do you want me inside you?" Zoro asks, his voice low and thick with need. He's anxious to give you pleasure, but he's struggling to keep himself from joining his fingers inside you.

"Please," you whine, eyes wide and watery with pleasure but red hot with the need for more. "Need you, Zoro."

Zoro's heart beats wildly in his chest, his own need for you overwhelming as he pulls his fingers from your slick warmth and licks them clean before sitting back on his heels to position himself between your legs. He lines his cock up with your entrance and looks into your eyes, the passion reflected in his own.

Without warning, he thrusts forward, plunging deep into your tightness. You're hot and wet around him, and he lets out a growl of satisfaction as he bottoms out. He pauses for a moment, allowing you both to adjust and to revel in the feeling of being connected. He pulls back, slowly at first, then picks up the pace as he leans over you, the headboard digging into the wall with each forceful thrust. Zoro's eyes never leave yours, his gaze locked as if he's trying to absorb every detail of your expression.

Each stroke of his cock against your walls feels heaven-sent, and the taste of you that lingers on his tongue drives him crazy with want. Nails dig into the flesh of his triceps and your back arches, a song of passion belting from between your lips, a serenade made for him and him alone.

Zoro grunts at the sound of your pleasure, his thrusts becoming even more ferocious as he watches your reaction, the sight of you so lost in ecstasy driving him to the brink. He grips your hips, holding you steady as he pounds into you, the sweat glistening on your skin as your bodies collide.

The moonlight trickling in from the window illuminates your body below him. It's a sight better than anything he could dream, your face contorting in bliss and ecstasy, hands clinging harshly onto him as if he'd disappear if you let go. Savoring a feeling that neither wants to forget.

"You're so fucking perfect." Zoro growls, leaning over you to kiss you feverishly, his tongue seeking yours as he fucks you. He can feel the tension building, the way your body tenses and your nails dig into his skin, and he knows you're close. He wants to give you this moment, wants to make you cum as much as he wants to feel it himself.

"Come on," he urges, his voice thick with lust. "Let go for me." The words were a warning, a promise that he wasn't going to last much longer..Zoro increases the pace of his assault, his own release imminent as he watches your face, your eyes half-lidded and flushed with pleasure. Together, you move, driven by the primal need for release.

Zoro's thumb meets your clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts with the speed of his ministrations. The dual stimulation pushes you over the edge, crying out butchered attempts at his name as your body convulses around him, your orgasm washing over you in waves. Zoro can't hold back any longer, feeling his own climax building as he watches you.

With a roar, he lets go, burying himself deep as he cums, the spasms of your walls milking him as he shudders and groans into your ear, seed spilling inside of you. He pants heavily, leaning over you as he rests on his forearms, his forehead meeting yours. He stays like that long enough to press a quick kiss to your lips before collapsing atop you with a very exhausted, but very relieved sigh.

You breathlessly hold him close. Cradling his sweaty form to your chest, one hand makes its way into his moss-green tresses to lightly scratch at his scalp. Zoro lets himself relax, letting out a sigh and nestling into your shoulder. He closes his eyes, feeling thoroughly sated in your embrace.

Zoro pulls out of you eventually, gently rolling off your body to rest. He pulls you into his side as he nuzzles into your hair. "I love you." He whispers, his voice soft and tender and almost unrecognizable.

Snuggling into his side, your hand still lazily strokes his head. "I love you too," you reply, voice equally tender, and a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Your soft touch and tender words soothe Zoro, your shared connection cemented in the aftermath of passion. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, a smile still lingering on his lips. The words you whispered echo in his mind, a warm feeling settling in his chest – and together, in each other's arms, you find peace.

#one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x reader smut #zoro smut #one piece imagine #x reader #fem reader #rattling the bars of my cage!!!!!!! RAAAAAAAAGH I LOVE ZORO SO MUCHHHHH

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greatstormcat · 3 days

Text

Club 141 AU - Part 4

Poly 141 x f!reader

Series Masterlist

This is a fictional depication of BDSM and proper vetting of new partners is essential for everyone. This is a work of fiction and liberties are being taken for the narrative. This (long awaited) part covers CNC/Consenual Not Consent. There is nothing wrong with this as long as it is in the real world context of a carefully negotiated dynamic with correct safeguards. Never let anyone push you to perform something you are not in wholehearted agreement with, and know your limits. Practice RACK: Risk Aware Consensual Kink.

TW: MDNI 18+, BDSM themes, CNC, degradation, forced blowjob, gunplay, bondage, mentions of blood, blindfold/hooding, p in v, rough sex, anal, double penetration, single safeword, no check-ins, aftercare and a hot tub

“You want to hunt me,” you repeat back to Price. It’s not a question, it’s a statement of fact. The man has just spent several minutes explaining to you how over the last few months you’ve settled into your role as the group’s sub perfectly. They were comfortable with you, and you quickly pointed out you were just as comfortable with each of them. You’d indulged in a variety of scenes with them, both individually and in groups, and it was easy to find a flow with the group.

“We want to hunt you,” Price echoes, leaning back in his throne-like armchair, the sounds of the club a distant murmur as you sit opposite him in the private room once again. His eyes watch you sharply, making you feel as though a microscope was pointed at you while you were pinned to a glass slide. Some days you felt he could read your very thoughts with his crytalline stare.

“Only if you’re ready,” Ghost rumbles, ever the one watching for everyone’s safety. He stood, arms crossed over his broad chest and leaning his hip against the back of Price’s leather chair. His gleaming skull mask fixed firmly in place as always, shining as though he took pains to polish the thing. Never once had you seen him without it.

Swallowing thickly, you pause to think, knowing full well that if you rush to agree one of them, if not both, will put the brakes on proceedings. They care that much about you, their precious and beloved submissive.

“How would this work?” you ask, receiving the instant reward of both men relaxing from their previous tense states.

“Good girl,” Ghost mumbles softly but it carries to you and a thrill skitters down your spine in response.

“If you agree,” Price begins, putting emphasis on the first word, “I have a friend who owns a few hundred acres of private land not far from here. There’s a cabinby a lake, with a hot tub.”

“Sounds romantic,” you say with a small smile.

“I suppose it does,” he agrees, leaning forward slightly. “Kyle explained we were in the military together, yes?”

“He did, that’s why they call you Captain,” you reply.

“That’s right,” Price smiles. “We still have some equipment, and a lot of experience in tracking people who don’t want to be caught.” A light enters his eyes as he speaks, an intensity you’ve come to know well, often when he has you by the throat and is promising you all manners of pleasure and pain.

“I understand,” you say, aware he has paused to check you are taking this in. Your breathing quickens as you hang on his every word.

“We would take you to a point in the woods near there and set you free, your goal being to get back to the cabin without being captured,” Price continues, his voice noticeably deepening. Ghost shifts slightly, making an obvious adjustment to make room for the stiffening of his cock as he listens and watches your reaction.

“What happens if I am captured?” you ask, feeding him the words you know he wants to hear. The leather of the armchair creaks as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees so he is closer to you. Your eyes watch his lips as he speaks, a memory of the taste of cigar smoke and scotch on them makes you salivate.

“What we always did. A captured enemy gets tortured,” he whispers softly, “until they break.”

A while later you sit at the club’s bar, perched on one of the elegant stools as Johnny and Kyle work the bar and you try to work through Price’s proposition in your head.

“Did they explain the whole thing to you?” Kyle asks as he places a cocktail on the marble top before you. You quickly take a sip to calm your jangling nerves.

“Oh yes, in lurid detail,” you answer, feigning shock and he laughs.

“Is the idea that bad?” he chuckles, his dark eyes warm with humour. “I thought you were a tough bird? Is the thought of us four stalking you through the dark so horrendous?”

You clench your thighs as he speaks, his honeyed voice dripping down your spine and pooling in your pelvis.

“No, not horrendous,” you reply, hoping he didn’t notice you shifting. One look up at him tells you he very clearly did see it, and your face warms with embarrassment.

“So it seems,” he drawls, leaning over the bar towards you. “So you gonna think it over? Give us a proper answer?”

You bite your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, just as Johnny walks over and looks between the two of you.

“You’re nae influencing her, are ya?” he chuckles, draping his arm over Kyle’s shoulder.

“No, just making sure she understands what’s at stake here,” Kyle grins and stands up, leaning against the other man. The pair look at you, grinning wickedly like a pair of devils trying to seduce you into some sinful act, despite looking as beautiful as angels in the soft light of the club.

“You two are going to be the death of me,” you laugh, feeling your face warming.

“What a way to go, eh?” Johnny winks back at you.

On Price’s insistence you take a few days to make your decision, and take the chance to talk it through with him, making sure you understand exactly what this will entail. The more you learn, and the more you read up, the more you want to experience this with them. Once you agree, you book a few days off work and they make the arrangements to rent the cabin and drive you up there. Its a warm summer day as you pull up at the cabin beside the lake, a few small outbuildings nearby and the promised hot tub positioned beside the small building on the lake side. Dense woodland surrounds everything. It all looks wonderfully romantic and cozy, especially considering the men you are staying here with, which jars against the activity you have planned for the evening.

The sun is just beginning to set a few hours later, you wiggle your toes in your hiking boots and pull on the tops of the socks peeking over the tops of them, the cool air pricking your skin. Price had warned you not to wear anything you were fond of, explaining clothes were unlikely to survive this scene, so you’d opted for an old sports bra and second favourite knickers, plus a plain white tee-shirt and some loose gym shorts. You hoped that as plain and simple as the look was, it was still appealing.

“You’re sure you’re ready for this?” Price asks you, and you try not to look at him but he grasps your chin and turns your face towards him, forcing eye contact. The dark fatigues he is wearing make him look larger than normal, and the look in his eye tells you exactly how he is feeling about the idea of hunting you. Fear and arousal mix in your gut already, and you haven’t even seen the others or started yet.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you say firmly, knowing anything less will be questioned. You want to do this.

“Just like we went over at the club there will be no checking in during this scene once it starts. You have one safe word and that ends everything, understood?” His voice is firm, unwavering.

“I understand,” you confirm with what you hope is equal conviction. You glance around, the other three are nowhere to be seen, but they are watching you from somewhere close by.

“Okay, you get a ten minute head start and then we come after you,” he says, taking a step back. “The cabin is that way.”

You hesitate for a moment, uncertain on what to do, but he doesn’t seem inclined to speak further. Instead he turns his back on you and walks towards the car he had brought you out here in, not looking back.

With a quiet huff you take off at a trot in the direction Price had indicated, the fading light hampered by the dense coverage from the tree canopy above and adding to the gloom. Watching where you go, you try to count the seconds to the ten minute mark, trying to gauge when the hunt will begin. Your heart beats loudly, almost drowning out the idyllic sound of birds singing in the evening air.

Any more thoughts end abruptly when the sound of a gun firing behind you tears through the air. Small birds and animals startle around you, and you freeze much like a frightened deer. However, when the sound of sharp whistles and excited yelling begins behind you, your muscles burst back into life.

They have guns, why do they have guns, you repeat to yourself over and over as you scramble forward. Panic seeping icy fingers into you, slowing you when it should be spurring you on, to get away from them. The fear thaws when it reaches that small part of your brain that understands this is a game though, it pulses red hot and whispers to you to let them catch you, to see what will happen when you fall.

You start to run out of breath just as you make it to the edge of the lake through the trees. The lights from the cabin glow warmly in the distance, and you pick up the pace feeling more confident now you can see your goal. A smile begins to creep across your face, the big, bad soldiers were clearly rusty after all these years. They hadn’t even got close to you, in fact, the head start was probably too much.

The light has faded enough now that the trunks of the trees are nothing but dark shadows under the canopy of leaves. It’s almost peaceful, no others sounds over the rustling of leaves and your own footsteps. You slow down, considering waiting for the guys to catch up so the game isn’t wasted, when a tall figure detaches from the shadows ahead of you.

A red mask covers the top part of his face, a Mohawk standing up above, and despite the obvious signs of it being Johnny, you feel terror. He’s wearing combat gear, some kind of rifle held in his hands and pointing at your feet. This isn’t your friend, your Dominant, this is a man trained to kill and you can see it in the way he carries himself as he steps forward. You spin on the spot and go to run back the way you came, but stop dead in your tracks.

The Grim Reaper is waiting for you, tall and dressed in black with a hood up around his skull face. He strides towards, an arm raised to grab you, but your body takes over and you dart to the side into the trees once more.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you run through the low undergrowth, clumsy and undignified. Plunging madly through the woods now, a tiny part of your mind wondering how they caught up with you without you hearing them. This makes you realise exactly what you’re up against, these are trained soldiers. You truly are fucked.

As you run, a shadow separates from a tall shrub ahead of you and sprints towards you, low and deadly. You try to turn but arms wrap around your waist, swinging you around and throwing you off balance completely. You hit the ground face down, breath knocked from your lungs just as a heavy body lands on your back. Instinctively your wail in dismay, the man on your back grabbing your throat and squeezing at the same moment, his hips grinding viciously against your backside so you feel his hard length.

“You lose,” Kyle's voice growls into your ear as a canvas sack is pulled over your head, your arms wrenched roughly behind you back and held firmly in a gloved hand. “Up.”

He drags you to your feet, cold metal presses against your neck under the edge of the hood, and there’s a sharp click. A sound you’ve heard in movies enough times to recognise it, a gun. A bubbling whine of terror creeps up your throat, and escapes into the darkness of the hood. The answering growl twists the fear and turns it into something else, something hot and sharp that spikes into your gut. Arousal.

“Walk,” he sneers, and you rely on him to guide you through the undergrowth.

You stumble blindly, disorientation adding an extra level to your confusion, as you are half march, half drag you somewhere. The change in flooring and slam of a door lets you know you are inside a building, but it's impossible to know where you are. The sound of heavy boots on a rough floor echo around you, and you are dumped unceremoniously in a chair with thin arm-rests. You flinch at the loud noise of tape being pulled from a roll, and your wrists and ankles are secured to the chair.

The hood is pulled away, bright light blinding you from a lamp shining directly in your face, but this is a short lived issue as a blindfold swiftly covers your eyes. Fingers twist in your hair and yank your head back, pulling a cry from your lips, but this is quickly muffled by the cock that is shoved into your mouth. After a second of confusion, heat floods your chest and you lean into the intrusion, mouth watering around the salty skin.

“Fuck, look at her go!”

“Greedy bitch, she’s gagging for it. Have you not been fed, love?” one of them taunts you.

While insults and jibes are tossed at you, whoever has hold of you by the hair continues to forcefully fuck your face, their hips grinding his cock further and further into your throat until you feel the edge of you gag reflex tightening. You focus on breathing steadily through your nose, feeling drool seeping around the thick shaft and onto your chest. Before long your thin tee is sticking to you, no doubt showing your bra underneath.

“Fuck, lemme in on that.” The Scottish lilt identifies Johnny easily. It’s all the warning you get before your head is roughly grabbed and turned to the other side, a few seconds to breathe freely are given before another cock slams into your mouth as you gasp for air.

“Oh fuck, yeah that’s good,” the new comer grunts, twisting your hair to add sharp pain to the mix. You whimper, and his rhythm falters slightly at the sound buzzing your throat around the head of his dick. “Ughh…” he grunts, and he shifts his weight momentarily before the cold press of metal returns, this time against your temple. A tremble runs down your spine and ends with a clenching of your pussy, a half whimper, half moan leaves you and his hiss is audible at your reactions.

“Shit, you like that you nasty slut?” Johnny’s thrust become harsher, his grip on your head tight and almost painful as the gun presses into your skin. Drool runs around his shaft, leaking down your chin, and his huffs of breath shorten.

“Ya gonna swallow every drop,” he mutters. “Don’t waste any of what I give ya.” His breaths become moans, more and more desperate as he chases his high and before much longer he comes. You're forced to swallow or choke, and you suck down the thick strings of cum.

“Enough, get her out of the chair and strip her,” Ghost’s gravely voice orders, and quickly both gun and dick are gone, leaving you coughing and gasping.

The tape binding you to the chair snaps, a cold blade touching your skin as it is cut and a taste of freedom hits you. Despite the blindfold you try to bolt from the chair, determined to play your part in this fully and try to escape.

“Fucking bitch! Get her down,” Price barks in anger.

“No!” you scream as you feel a heavy body tackle you down. Under the oppressive weight you kick and struggle, gasping for breath through the pressure of whichever one of them holds you down.

“Stupid cunt, you’ll get what’s coming to ya now,” Johnny’s voice hisses. Hands pull you boots and socks off, your shorts quickly following despite your wild kicks. You feel one foot connect with one of them, a triumphant smile crossing your lips at the muffled grunt this causes, but strong hands catch your ankles, pulling them wide and pinning them to the floor. Your exposed pussy pulses, wet and hot in the cold air, and the sound of a zip cuts through the air.

“She fucking kicked me, I go first,” Kyle complains, and someone huffs a short laugh in answer. Again you try to fight, kick and struggle, but each limb is pinned to the rough floor and you only scrape yourself against the wood planks. Kyle kneels between your thighs, his body covering you and then his cock spears into you, stretching you wide.

“Stop!” you whine, the wrongness of the word on your tongue making your pussy clench tighter. He doesn’t hesitate, ignoring your plea and goes right to a pounding, punishing rhythm, curling over you so his grunts and groans play out beside your ear.

“Don’t fight, it’s too late for that now,” Kyle’s voice drips into your ear, and that part of your brain that grips to the reality that this isn’t real purrs back to life, quelling the panic slightly.

“Blind fold off, I want to see her face properly,” you hear Price bark, a note of authority in his voice you’ve not heard before and the rawness of the situation hits you. They are stripped back of all their civility, almost their humanity as they work you over, and you understand the itch that this is scratching for them. The blindfold is pulled away and you blink rapidly, trying to focus on the dark shapes around you. Ghost pins your hands above your head, while Price and Johnny restrain a leg each.

Kyle fucks you mercilessly, the rough fabric of his combat trousers rubbing at your skin and adding more friction, his public bone hitting your clit.

“Such a tight little cunt,” Kyle groans, his hands shifting and pushing up underneath your top and sports bra to squeeze your tits. The brutal swing of his hips doesn’t falter, your body tight as you pull against the hands holding you down and clenching around his thick dick.

The orgasm comes almost out of nowhere, quickly building and releasing within you and slicing through you. It makes you archly sharply off the ground, and Kyle barks hoarsely as he is dragged over the edge with you, burying his load deep inside you with unsteady thrusts.

“Thought you’d last longer than that mate,” Johnny teases as Kyle sits back, breathing heavily.

“Fuck you,” he bites back. “You shot your load quick enough.”

“Can’t blame me with a toy like this,” Johnny answers sinfully.

“Shut up you two,” Ghost interrupts, and you glance up as he releases your wrists and stands. Your legs are shaking, as much as you want to try moving again you don’t think you can. As he stands up and begins to unbuckle his belt, you groan softly. He peels off his vest and shirt, before getting down on the ground beside you, laying on his back. Price and Johnny grip your arms and pull your unresisting body over his, face down.

Sweat slicks your skin as you are pushed down onto Ghost’s chest, and with your legs held apart he sheathes his cock inside your pussy with a single, hard thrust that has you arching your back. The rasping of breath from behind his mask tells you how much the feel of your cunt affects him, hot and pulsing around his cock already.

“Get comfortable, you’ve got more to come yet,” he chuckles darkly, and you notice he is looking over your shoulder. Think fingers press at your exposed asshole, cold liquid smearing across the puckered hold.

"No! Don't, please," you plead weakly, unable to move as Ghost hold you against his chest.

“Shut up,” you hear Price snap close behind you, just before shoving a thick digit inside your arse and working it in and out a few times. Suddenly, the intrusion is removed and you relax slightly.

Before you recover, the head of a meaty, slicked up cock presses against your asshole and pushes inside. It’s like every single nerve fibre between your neck and knees has come to life, and you let out a desperate keen at the pleasure. The fullness of almost being stretched to breaking is intense, and the choppy, rough thrusts of Price working into your backside send your mind blank. You’re no stranger to anal but having them both inside you at once is a whole new sensation.

Without any pause they both begin to pump into you, deep grunts and curses the only sound you can hear. You can’t tell if you’re being ripped apart or fucked better than you’ve ever felt in your life. All you can do is try to remember to breathe as you grip onto Ghost biceps, fingernails cutting into his skin and drawing tiny trickles of blood. Your cries build and crescendo into frenzied noises, your sensitive nerves alive and running with liquid lightning as the two men push you further and further.

The orgasm that rips through you steals your hearing and vision, your brain turns to pure nothingness for a few seconds and you forget to breathe as hot ecstasy tears through every cell of your body. Your exhausted muscles spasm, gripping and milking Price and Ghost’s cocks, pushing them over the edge so they both come, filling you with thick, sticky ropes of spend inside you. Twitching and spasming you fall limp between them, unable to move or speak.

“Right, red,” Ghost announces softly, just audible over the ringing in your ears. Price carefully pulls out of you, a whimper slipping from your lips as he does and a shock of sensitivity shooting through you. Ghost does the same but lays still, cradling you against his chest, his wide palm smoothing up and down your skin slowly. “It’s over now, you did well.”

You burrow into him, pushing your sweat streaked face against his neck with I deep exhale, his arms pulling you tightly against him and his deep voice vibrates through his chest and into you as he talks you down. Your heart rate slows down and breathing evens out, floating in a fog inside your own head.

“That was insane,” Kyle says quietly as he crouches beside you, mask removed now, and touches your shoulder. You peer at him hazily through your lashes, a hint of smile on your lips. He puts a backpack down beside you and Ghost and opens it, pulling out bottles of sports drink, a small first aid kit and finally a tightly wrapped blanket which he opens and drops over you gently.

Slowly and carefully Ghost gets you up and gets you to drink, then gets you up. Blinking, you look around and take in your surroundings finally. It’s a small garage, the one you’d seen beside the cabin earlier in the day. Once they’re happy you are okay then clean you up and walk you out of the garage, wrapped in the soft blanket.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Price asks again, for maybe the fifth time, and you smile groggily and nod.

“I’m fine, just a bit shaky,” you tell him again, the pride and bliss burning inside of you is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. “I want to get into the hot tub, can we?”

“Right now you can have anything you want, hen,” Johnny answers without a thought and trots ahead to get the cover off the tub.

“Absolutely, anything,” Price grins, satisfied with your reply now.

It’s crowded in the hot tub with so many large bodies in it, and you get jostled around as each of them tries to be the one beside you. In the end, you find yourself sitting on someone’s lap, thick thighs and strong arms cradling you against a broad chest in the warm, bubbling water. Your head lolls against his shoulder peacefully but after a moment you blink open your eyes tiredly, the pleasant buzzing of the water massaging your aching limbs.

You look up into Ghost’s unmasked face, and you grin.

“Hi, Ghost,” you say, feeling a little foolish afterwards, but his smile settles your nerves.

“Call me Simon,” he grins back, a scar making it slightly crooked. “You’ve more than earned it now.”

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anonymityisfunwriter · 3 days

Text

we’re still friends

pairing: bucky barnes x reader summary: you're still friends. it's wonderful. it's mature. and though you've changed in your endeavors, you still have plenty in common, like that you're both still hopelessly, irrevocably in love with each other. based on this song - we're still friends - amy winehouse

a.n. - back to listening to amy winehouse records in between listening to TTPD. hope you guys enjoy! 💛

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun's SongFics

you weren't sure what you were expecting.

you thought knowing he would be here would make it easier. it's why you thanked sam for the heads up. you knew he would be here. you had weeks to ready yourself for this moment.

still, nothing could prepare you seeing him for the first time since that quiet separation.

friends.

you were friends, you reminded yourself.

it’s wonderful.

it’s mature.

you’re friends.

friends that have explored every inch of each other. friends that have bared their souls to each other, that know their deepest, darkest, most intimate secrets.

yes, you were friends, but you knew in every fiber of your being that it shouldn't be this hard to see a friend. it shouldn't hurt this much to see your friend walk through the door without you by his side.

"hello… friend."

he gives a shy smile with a hesitant wave. there's a staleness in the air. a tension that makes you so viscerally aware of each and every move you make. each move is strained, rigid, forced like you're moving against tar. “how have you been?”

"good."

"good." bucky offers another half smile. it's impossible for him not to notice everything about you. it's only been a few months. time could only change a person so much. and you hadn't changed. not a bit. it's only because he notices everything about you that he realizes he still hasn't introduced the woman standing beside him when your eyes shift to just over his shoulder. he clears his throat, "oh, sorry, um, this is my friend."

"that's - it's wonderful." it doesn't take more than a split second to know that she's not just a friend. still, because you are just friends with him, you stick out a hand to her, "it's nice to meet you."

she smiles at you, a warm, genuine smile. for some reason, it only makes it hurt more. she looks at you, genuine curiosity shimmering in her eyes, "and you are?"

"um, we're - we're old friends." you're not sure what he's told her. you'd lost your old title. you were just friends now. you jut your thumb in the opposite direction. "it was nice to meet you, but i should go find sam. wish him a happy birthday."

his first clue should be the fact that he almost immediately goes after you. he barely tosses an explanation over his shoulder to his date to go after you. it's instinctive. it's natural. it's what feels right to him.

bucky catches up to you a quick moment later. he reaches for your arm, barely making contact with your skin before he remembers he lost that privilege some time ago. you turn around with a distant, tired expression. "hey, she is - she really is just a friend."

a huff of laughter leaves your lips, "you've been using that word a lot tonight."

"look, i'm sorry, i didn't know what to say," bucky stammers out. "the last time we spoke -"

"it's alright. really. that's what we are now. i mean, we are still friends, right?” that's what he said the last time you two spoke. you parted amicably. that was the story you purported. you and bucky were friends now. there's a long beat of silence. you've picked up the habit of chewing on the inside of your cheek again, bucky notices. “right?”

yes, you were friends. friends that were still hopelessly, desperately in love with each other. but at least you're still friends. at least he still had a place in your life.

he clears his throat, shakily nodding, "yeah, of course. we're friends."

you nod once, offering nothing more than a tight smile before you take off again.

"that looked... intense," sam interrupts as you walk away.

"just a friendly conversation. between friends." the word escapes bucky's lips like he's spitting out a mouthful of venom. friends. just friends.

sam quirks an eyebrow. "you're friends, really?"

bucky's eyebrows pull together as he defensively replies, "of course we are. we were friends before everything. we can be friends after too."

sam crosses his arms over his chest with a small shrug. "i still don't understand why there is an after."

"it just - it got complicated," bucky replies with a shaky sigh. "we called it before things got ugly, before we couldn't stand to be in the same room together, before we stopped -"

"loving each other?" sam finishes the sentence for bucky.

"sam." it's a short, clipped warning that falls from bucky's lips without a second thought. this wasn't up for discussion. that night was not one he was keen on reliving more than he already did.

"i'm just saying," sam raises his hands in defeat. "you stopped fighting before you even had to."

"it wasn't like that," bucky insists, still watching the doorway you left through.

"so what was it like?" sam wonders. "the right person, wrong time?"

"something like that."

"and now you're pretending to be friends."

"we are friends," bucky doubles down. "we've always been friends."

sam quirks an eyebrow. "and how exactly are you friends?"

“what do you mean?"

"you two don't hang out anymore. you don't laugh together anymore. you don't have anything in common."

"we have plenty of things in common.” like the fact that you’re both still in love with each other.

sam grips bucky's shoulder, offering a comforting, grounding squeeze, "all i'm saying, you were so worried about losing her. but take a look, buck, you lost her anyway."

there isn't anything that bucky can say to that. not as he ambles back to his date. sam's words hit him like a ton of bricks. isn't that exactly what he was worried about? losing you. and isn't that exactly what happened? friends to lovers. lovers to strangers. strangers masquerading as friends.

there's a longing look on his date's face that he's sure wasn't there just a moment ago.

bucky gives his date a sheepish, apologetic smile, "sorry, i had to-"

his date looks over bucky's shoulder to find you finally talking to sam. a wistful smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "that's her, isn't it?"

"huh?"

"the reason why we'll only ever be friends. it's her, right?"

for the second time tonight, bucky is rendered speechless. his mouth gapes for a moment, debating the merit of lying. it's not worth it. by the looks of it, his date has seen right though him. "yeah, that's her."

she juts her chin towards you. "you should go after her."

bucky quirks an eyebrow. "i should?"

"you should," she agrees. "i understand. and to be honest, you just reminded me that i deserve to have someone look at me the way you look at her."

"you do deserve that, but no, we, uh, we didn't work out. we're just friends now," bucky states, more as a reminder to himself than to inform his date.

she softly snorts, rolling his eyes, "i know i'm the stranger here, but i don't think you'll ever be just friends with her."

"i'm sorry."

she waves him off. "i'll be fine, but it looks like she's leaving, you should go."

it was the kick in the ass he needed and the second one he'd gotten tonight. bucky nods, "thank you."

the door slams shut behind you as you step into the nighttime air. your lungs painfully expand then clench as you take your first real breath of the night. something about watching the person you thought you'd have a lifetime with stand with another woman was just too painful.

it didn't matter what you promised him all those months ago. sure, you'd pretend. you'd keep up the facade. but you knew down to the depths of your bones that you couldn't be friends with someone you still loved with your entire heart.

"hey!" bucky calls after you.

you jolt at the sound of his voice, schooling your face into a soft smile as you whip around to face him. "what are you doing out here?"

"funny, i was about to ask you the same thing," he half heartedly chuckles, stopping less than a foot away from you. just out of reach. the corner of your mouth twitches up in the most sincere smile you can muster in this moment. it only makes his heart ache even more. "i'm really sorry about tonight."

"it's fine. we're friends, right?" your words are so stilted that you're not even fooling yourself anymore. there's a long, drawn out silence. the silence is your answer. you weren't friends. you couldn't even pretend. it was too soon. perhaps it would always be too soon. maybe you would always love him. but you and bucky would never be just friends. "we can't be friends, can we?"

he takes a long step forward. the familiar smell of your perfume wraps around him like a warm blanket on a blistery day. he looks at you and he can't even remember why he thought you could ever be friends. it doesn't make an ounce of sense to him anymore.

his hand twitches with the urge to touch you, to feel you once more.

how could he be so foolish?

how could you be friends when the taste of you still lingered on his lips? when he could still feel your warmth on your side of his cold bed? when his heart still called out to you with each rising morning and setting sun?

he finally caves to his most base, most desperate desire to simply touch you again. his thumb drags over your bottom lip. "no, we can't."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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wannaeatramyeon · 2 days

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How Lookism men confess to YOU they've caught feelings

G/N. Soft. Fluffy. All that good stuff. (Gun, Jake, Goo, James Lee/DG, Johan, Vin, Samuel, Eli, Ryuhei)

Gun opts for somewhere private, just the two of you. Whether that's his home, yours, or somewhere only you both know.

He tells you with certainty his feelings for you. That there's no point divulging if he didn't think it would work out, if you weren't better together.

Intensity radiates from him. His words, eyes, aura. He keeps his confession simple and to the point, unexpectedly romantic with how matter of fact he is.

Jake thought he was being subtle, but there's a lot of prying eyes in the shadows.

He shoos the Big Deal members away in his best authoritative, no nonsense boss tone. The one he reserves to deal with serious matters. Which this is. Of utmost seriousness.

Behind his beaming toothy grin and confident stance are anxious eyes. His words are cheesy and well-rehearsed. Sincerity pulses through his every fibre, leaving you starry eyed and breath hitched.

Goo announces his feelings with a grin on his lips.

Corners you somewhere crowded, at a completely inappropriate moment. But of course. It's only inappropriate if Goo deems it to be so, and there's no time like the present.

The words are said lightly, like he could play it off as a joke any moment. His ego too fragile for rejection. But his carefree attitude is off kilter, body language tense. Gaze steady and more serious than you have ever seen.

James is flippant. The arrogant, cocky man claims you as his already. Confesses without any doubt in his mind that rejection could happen, or it could sting.

He's not a gambling man. Only plays when the odds are in his favour and the gains far outweighs the losses.

There's no ifs or buts. Talks about 'us' and 'we' and a future where you're by his side.

Johan pulls out the words reluctantly and when you least expect. Like they will choke him if he keeps it from you any longer.

He says it without looking at you. Eyes fixed on the ground, a point in the distance, Miro, Eden, anywhere but you.

Brows knitted together, hands white knuckled. A second away from running away. But he needs to tell you, he has to. The words are too big to swallow down anymore.

Vin peppers his confession with insults and half-jokes. A type of self defence to spare his heart.

Hands in pocket, like it's no big deal. Words spilling out, trying to inject indifference into them. Back against the wall, peering over at you.

Sunglasses firmly on, eyes shielded. Because he can't bear to be any more vulnerable than he has to right now. His words are barbed and prickly, but his feelings are completely bared.

Samuel offers his heart in between lofty promises and delusions of grandeur.

Words murmured against the back of your hand, breath ghosting over your skin. Eyes fixed on yours, fiery and almost challenging you to say no.

But a relentless phantom haunts him, one that he silences over and over again.

-That being by his side won't be enough, that offering you to be his queen is inadequate, lacking and there's so much more that you deserve.

Still, he promises you the world and is committed to giving you nothing less.

Trepidation lines Eli’s words. Like he can’t believe he’s here again. After everything that has happened, with everything on his plate.

He’s forced himself to make room for you, carved out a part of his life.

He confesses in a cramped dusty room in Hostel. Sat opposite one another on rickety uneven chairs, so close your knees are touching and there’s no personal space left.

Body leaning forward, craving your touch and proximity as he rids the last remnants of hesitancy and takes a leap of faith.

Ryuhei tells you over and over again.

Until it becomes a daily mantra of sorts for him, and part of your day for you. At first as a joke, or at least you thought so. And then his earnestness snowballed until you could no longer ignore it.

He confesses, with the same sort of childish joy he always feels when he's with you. Tonight, his blood is thrumming in his vein and his pulse is beating in his ears.

With a hushed voice and hope in his eyes: he tells you once more.

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intromortal · 1 day

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―ɴᴏᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ

bodyguard!p.js x nepobaby!reader

―wc: 10k (est)

―cw: SMUTTTT, jealousy, feelings of unworthiness, possessive jay, angst, some lack of communication we love overthinking, not very professional behavior, more to be added

―release date: tbd

― series masterlist

―preview

You truly were a vixen, Jay though to himself, a dirty dirty vixen.

You had lured him in slowly. First with longing glances, your eyes flicking from his own to his lips whenever he talked to you. Then, you started trying to get his attention by dropping hints about your slow sexual life. “It’s not like I don’t have options,” you’d say over lunch while peering up from your cosmopolitan, the peel of a blood orange always adorning the rim of the glass as per your request. You’d fix your eyes on him, the hairs on his neck standing at the intensity of your gaze, “It’s just that none of these options seem fun or appealing enough.”

You could have anyone you wanted, and Jay knew that very well. Gorgeous gorgeous face and long thick lashes batting at him while feigning innocence from time to time, but you just happened to have a weak spot for what you couldn't have.

Jay suspected you would do something drastic when you eventually got frustrated enough. Something like kissing him out of the blue maybe. He could even say he was prepared to reject it, reject you, forbidden fruit luring him in. Gluttony hidden behind the promise of bliss.

What he did not expect was for you to get in the middle of the backseat while he was driving you to your penthouse after an event, position each one of your heeled feet on the back of the front seats, flip your gown up and slide your fingers inside your pretty white lace panties. Right where he could see.

He paid you no mind for the entirety of the car ride, never once telling you to stop, gaze fixed on the road ahead. You’d think he was completely unaffected if it weren’t for how hard he gripped the steering wheel, the veins on his hands bulging and knuckles turning white.

He even got up from his seat once you arrived home calmly as usual, only the shutting of his door louder than t it needed to be. He opened yours silently, walked with you inside the elevator without looking in your direction even once.

But when the door of your apartment shut close behind you he was all over you in an instant, teeth clashing against yours in a frenzied, passionate kiss. Sensual pants and rips of fabric the only sounds filling the huge modernly decorated space. He didn’t even allow you to walk to your room, you tortured him for months, even the thought of waiting for a second more than necessary was unfathomable to Jay. He wanted you then and he was gonna have you whenever and however he pleased, he was owed that much.

He had you spread for him on the big sectional couch in your living room, holding the back of your thighs as he pounded into you with force he never knew he was capable of. He had you propped over the arm, stomach red from the roughness of the material and ass up red from the roughness of his hands, your upper body pushed forward each thrust as the skin of his balls slapped against your behind. He had you facing him, holding yourself up on your arms, legs spread over his as his hips drove inside you from underneath, lifting from the soft carpet.

You two kept fucking after, sporadically escaping from the public eye to hide in a dressing room, his thick fingers inside your mouth to silence your moans. In the car parked away somewhere abandoned, riding him in the backseat, hands gripping the front seats as you bounced on his cock. In the shower of an expensive hotel overseas, your hair in a makeshift ponytail in his hand as he fucked your sore mouth on his length, twitching every time you held eye contact with him through your gags. You even managed to sneak him in your office, his tongue lapping you up from under the desk, hidden from the eyes of the businessman sat in front of you.

It went on like this for a while, before he showed up to your front door one time in the dead of the night, soaked from head to toe from the downpour descending outside.

Jay wants you for himself more than he would ever dare to admit, but knows all you're in for is a bit of forbidden fun.

#nervous but excited #jay!#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen #enhypen x reader #jay smut #park jeongseong #jay

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blegh-110 · 3 days

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i. "we were both young when i first saw you" | Sam Monroe

Pairing: older brother's best friend!Sam x fem!reader

Summary: You never liked your older brother's friends, they were always mean to you; kicking your seat on the bus, pulling your hair, and tricking you. You made it your mission to stay away from them, expect for one who is the first to treat you nicely.

Warnings: None! Just a cute little teenage romance <3

Word count: 851

Next part

Older brother's best friend!Sam who you’ve known since you were 12 and he was 14. You remember your brother first coming home from his first day of high school talking about a really cool guy in his english and history class, someone named Sam Monroe. Of course you didn’t really care for your older brother's friends, in fact, you had a bit of a personal vendetta against all of them for the pranks and tricks they pulled on you when you were younger. Even now you try to avoid them and their attempts to give you a wet willy and a flick on the forehead. You were also at the age where boys were simply scary, especially older ones who were friends with your older brother.

So when the time came that your brother invited Sam over to hang out after school, you hid in your room for as long as possible and tried to finish your school work. But it was difficult to focus when you could just feel the presence of another boy in your home. And it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that you couldn’t go out into the kitchen for a snack in fear that you would run into one of your brother’s friends. They were just so demeaning, they never missed out on the chance to remind you that you’re younger and dumber than them.

You checked the time, 11:37. Surely everyone in the house is asleep, you thought. Quietly, you stepped out of your room into the kitchen, wanting your trip for your sweet tart ropes and water to be fast. But frustration and anger very quickly took over when you couldn’t find the candy you bought with your own money.

“What’re you looking for?” A voice you didn’t recognize said behind you. In the short second before you turned around, you felt your blood run cold and mind go blank. And it became worse when you looked at him, he was the most beautiful boy you had ever seen. He was leaning against the doorway with an intense stare, and what caught your eye was the blue streak in his hair. He looked so cool. With all the courage you can muster up, you speak.

“My candy, I bought sweet tart ropes earlier and can’t… find them.” Your words are quiet, you don’t want to wake anyone up but the boy in front of you is the main reason. At your reply he stands to his full height with a frown.

“Your brother said I could have ‘em, shit, I’m sorry.” And what was strange was that he really looked like it.

“It’s okay,” It really wasn’t, you were still mad. But you just wanted the whole interaction to be over, he was too cute in your eyes to continue any sort of conversation. You wouldn’t be able to speak properly if this went on. So you went back to your room right after, setting aside your homework for tomorrow because you couldn’t get him out of your mind. Although it was only a minute with him, he had shown more kindness than any of your brother's friends, or any boy in fact. And you held on to that very small moment.

You rarely saw him for your entire eighth grade school year, of course you would. He wasn’t your friend, only someone you had a little bit of a crush on. But the times you did have together, dispite it being small, were special to you.

Like when he listened to you complain about your insufferable science teacher, “That guy’s a fucking asshole.” His vulgarity is a part of him that always makes you laugh.

“Shh, Sam!” You’re smiling as you bring your pointer finger to your lips, telling him to quiet down, “my parents are in the other room.” At that his eyes widened and head turned to where you’re pointing.

“Okay, I’ll stop. But seriously, I was also in his class and he was the worst, he always picked on me”

As much as you cared for Sam, he was a troublemaker, and you asked if he did anything to warrant that treatment.

“Well, yeah but what does that have anything to do with it?” And before you can answer he poked your side, making you yelp, and ran off.

Or when you first saw him with the piercing right below his bottom lip, “you like it?” You only nodded your head before bolting to your room and shoving your face into the pillow.

And when their freshman class was having a dance, he knocked on your door that night asking if you had any black eye shadow to put on him. The application was messy, since he decided he wanted it literally at the last minute and your brother was yelling for him from the living room to hurry. When you were done and got a good look at his face you blushed. In combination with his piercing, dyed hair, makeup, and suit, you got butterflies and wanted to be the one who he took to the dance.

This one was written for my younger self who wanted an emo boyfriend. I think I might do another part simply for myself. Hopefully this reaches the hayden christensen part of tumblr. Please leave a comment, I love reading them <333 banner is by @dollywons

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #haden christensen x fem!reader #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen fanfiction #life as a house #sam monroe #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe fluff #sam monroe x you #sam monroe imagine #sam monroe x y/n #hayden christensen x y/n

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sayruq · 7 hours

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Dr. Tanya Haj-Hassan, a pediatric intensive care physician who works with Médecins Sans Frontières and co-founded @GazaMedicVoices, has emerged as one of the most prominent voices raising the alarm about the hell Israel has created for Gaza’s healthcare workers. Mary Turfah: Yesterday, I came across a report of a third mass grave unearthed at Al-Shifa Hospital. One month ago, as the first mass graves there were being uncovered, you were interviewed by Sky News. The anchor cited Israeli military sources saying that they had detained “hundreds of Hamas militants” within the complex, then asked you what you thought of that. Could you speak to your response to him, and to this persistent obsession with “militants at Al-Shifa,” when not a single hospital in Gaza has been spared, and when there have been mass graves [seven in total to date] uncovered at multiple hospitals in Gaza? Tanya Haj-Hassan: Yeah. I think my response was something to the effect of, I can’t believe we’re still having this conversation. Everybody from a medical or humanitarian background is so sick of having to respond to these atrocious, preposterous justifications that are being provided for things that are never justifiable. I thought the Hamas and Al-Shifa question was buried a long time ago. There were several weeks where that’s all we were asked about in interviews. There were multiple investigations done that concluded no credible evidence existed to justify the attacks on Al-Shifa. And then, Al-Shifa was targeted again, besieged again. Then, eventually, Al-Shifa started functioning again. The staff were so proud of the fact that they got it functioning again. That second time, the hospital was again besieged and targeted. A lot of the staff were taken out into the courtyard of the hospital, where the male staff were stripped. Israeli soldiers beat several of the healthcare providers. A very, very senior person at Al Shifa, an older doctor, was eventually released and came on foot to Al-Aqsa Hospital. And immediately, he went back to work. I was at Al-Aqsa Hospital when he turned up disheveled, beard down to here, exhausted, having lost I don’t know how many kilos, hadn’t seen his family for five months, didn’t have a phone, didn’t have proper shoes, didn’t have proper clothes. They fled with basically nothing. And many of the other healthcare providers who were taken outside with him were abducted. I think his testimonies of what happened and the amount of work they had put into getting Al-Shifa functioning again made the question of the Sky News anchor even more infuriating. Because that’s the reality I had just come out of, and to hear him then ask a health professional who had spent the last few weeks resuscitating dead and dying children that have been maimed to an extent that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget—even though I think for my own well-being, it would probably be good if I would forget some of those images—I found it so insulting. Insulting to me, to the healthcare providers who had risked their lives to stay at Al-Shifa, who had lost 25 percent of their body weight, who were exhausted. Insulting to the health care providers who had been killed at Al-Shifa, fleeing from Al-Shifa, to the civilians who were executed there. It’s insulting to our intellect. It’s insulting to humanity

MT: Last week, it was revealed that Dr. Adnan Al-Bursh, a renowned orthopedic surgeon in Gaza, was tortured to death inside of Israeli prisons, according to eyewitness testimony, after he had been abducted from the hospital where he was providing life-saving care, back in December. Hundreds of medical workers have been killed to date, and many more injured. You said in one interview that doctors and healthcare workers are changing out of their scrubs before leaving the hospital so that they’re not targeted. On top of this, the doctors in Gaza have been working basically nonstop for 215 days. As someone who has worked in Gaza, I was wondering if you could say a bit about what your colleagues are facing day-to-day. THH: I want to start with the abduction of healthcare workers, because it’s so underreported, to the point where myself and my colleagues, medical providers working our own jobs, are doing the investigative work. They’re systematic. There have been at least 240 abductions documented by our group— MT: 240?! THH: At least 240, and I’m not talking about what’s reported by the Ministry of Health, which I believe is an even higher number. We documented that at least 240 healthcare workers have been abducted and detained by Israeli forces, the majority of whom have not been released. And the ones who have been released are providing testimonies of torture, of themselves but also the torture that they’ve witnessed. I’ve taken testimonies. One, a three-hour-long testimony about the torture inflicted on [my friend,] a nurse, for 53 days in custody, accusing him of being part of Hamas, of his family being part of Hamas, even though the fact that he was released tells you he wasn’t part of Hamas. Given the extent to which he was tortured, I’m surprised that he survived. And he has not survived with his physical and mental health intact. He has scars, he has nightmares. He had hematuria, so bleeding when he urinated, for weeks after he was released.

Please read this interview as it sheds light on the horrors doctors, nurses, and other medical workers in Gaza have endured

#yemen #jerusalem #tel aviv #current events #palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #news on gaza #palestine news #news update #war news #war on gaza #al shifa hospital #palestinian doctors #gaza genocide #genocide #war crimes

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lanadelnegan · 2 days

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Tattoo - part 2 (final)

Teacher!Negan x F!Reader

Summary: After your art teacher gives you a tattoo that will always remind you of him, he wants a matching one. But he wants you to give it to him.. while you "give it to him."

Warnings: 18+, smut, age-gap, p in v, blowjob, teacher-student relationship, giving Negan a tattoo while you ride him, (if teacher-student relationships and/or age-gaps are not your thing, please do not read.)

Part one here

Finally posting this after a century! Sorry it took so long. xx

“Are you insane?!” I stood with the tattoo gun in my hand, mouth dropped open as I watched him get comfortable on the leather couch. He sat shirtless with his legs spread perfectly apart.

“Probably.” He grinned, flashing his pretty teeth and deeply ingrained dimples that I've become obsessed with over the years.

“Seriously.. Negan.. I’ve never tattooed someone before, obviously, and-“

His head fell to the side as if he didn't want to hear my excuses. “You’ve taken my art class four times. More than any other student at that damn school. Did you learn anything, or were you too busy fantasizing about the teacher?" He smirked.

"... I didn't learn how to give someone a tattoo."

"No different than drawing, baby."

"I can barely do that." I shrugged. "Why did you even pass me?"

Negan let out a chuckle, leaning his head back against the couch for a moment. "I think we both know the answer to that." We both fell silent as I looked unsure about what he was asking me to do.

“I’ll start it. Would that make you feel better?” He asked. I nodded, knowing there’s no way I could do this by myself.

“Hand me that pen over there?” He nodded towards his desk. I grabbed a purple outline pen to give him and he took the cap off with his teeth before easily drawing the most perfect baseball bat I've ever seen on his chest right about his left nipple. He tossed the pen aside and started the tattoo gun, bringing it close to his chest.

“Stop.” I blurted. “You don’t have to do this.”

Negan scrunched his brows at me. “I don’t do anything I don’t wanna do, sweetheart.” He said before carving a small line over the purple outline on his skin, not flinching an ounce. He stopped after making a small mark on his skin, then handed me the tattoo gun while patting his lap for me to sit.

He can’t seriously want me to sit in his lap while I permanently mark his body.

“Take your clothes off first, baby. Give me something to look at while we do this.”

I sat the tattoo gun to the side before slowly undressing for him until I was completely bare and cold, shivering in front of him.

“Mm, so fucking beautiful.” He praised, seeing my perky nipples on display for him. I noticed the straining bulge in his pants before I even sat down. I straddled him carefully and settled into his lap while facing him, cautiously holding the tattoo gun in my hand.

“You got this, darlin’.” He encouraged me, probably because I looked like I could faint any second. Sitting in my hot teacher's lap and tattooing his chest wasn’t something I thought I'd ever do.

“What if-“ I started but he cut me off.

“I don’t care.” He said in almost a whisper. “You could draw little hearts and fuckin' butterflies all over me, and I wouldn’t care as long as you’re hovering that sweet pussy over me. The tat? Is the last thing on my mind right now, doll.”

With that, I brought it to his skin and began making a line before I could talk to myself out of it. I felt Negan’s eyes burning into me, and his face was close enough to mine for me to smell the mint and tobacco on his mouth. Negan let out a breath that resembled a moan when the needle tore through his flesh.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, continuing my surprisingly impressive line.

"No." His voice was hoarse and raspy. "Feels fucking good."

I felt the bulge in his pants grow bigger underneath me and wanted to grind against him but couldn't move without possibly messing up. Negan watched me intensely before I felt his hand drift down to my center. I shivered when he ran a finger through my wet slit and saw him smirk out of the corner of my eye.

"Negan. I need to be still. I'm not messing this up."

"Then be still, darlin'. Don't mind me." I heard the zipper of his pants and glanced at him, giving him a silent warning that whatever he was about to do wasn't a good idea.

Negan grabbed my wrist gently and I pulled my hand away from his chest as he lifted my hips slightly and guided me over his length. I sat down completely, taking him so deep that it hurt.

"Negan.." I moaned, and he moaned with me, keeping us still and not moving while his cock was all the way inside me.

"Finish what you started, baby." He said, gesturing to the tattoo gun still in my hand. Hesitantly I started again, going slower this time. I felt his cock twitch inside me when the needle hit his skin, and almost whimpered at how full he made me feel, pressing tightly into my walls.

"You never answered my question, doll."

"Hm?" I asked, focusing on the tattoo and trying to ignore the throbbing sensation in my cunt.

"Did you learn anything in my class?"

I smiled for a moment, thinking of a clever answer. "Of course. I learned that.. I wanted you. Safe to say I did more fantasizing than listening to you yap about art, although listening to your deep voice did help with the fantasies." I giggled.

"Yeah?" He asked, tightening his grip on my hips as he fought the urge to thrust his hips upwards. "What exactly did you fantasize about, doll?"

"So much. But.. my favorite was thinking of you bending me over your desk. Or sucking your cock underneath your desk while others were around and had no idea."

"Fuuck." Negan breathed out heavily as he rested his head back against the couch. "Keep going, baby. I want to hear more."

"I would always stare at the front of your pants."

"I noticed." He chuckled.

"And I'd imagine what it looked like. How big you were."

"Yeah? What do you think? Was it what you imagined?"

"Bigger." I said truthfully, getting close to being finished with the tattoo.

"Sweetheart, I need you to hurry the fuck up and finish. My dick is gonna fucking explode if I don't move soon."

"Already done." I pulled the gun back and smiled, admiring my work and being pleasantly surprised. "Take a look."

Negan ripped the gun out of my hand and tossed it on the floor. "Later. Bounce on my fuckin' dick, now." He said desperately as he adjusted himself lower on the couch.

I happily obeyed him, placing my hands on his shoulders, being careful not to touch his reddening pecs. It felt so good to finally move up and down on his cock, so I dropped my head back and rode him fast and hard while my tits bounced in his face.

Negan leaned forward and took my nipple into his mouth, slurping around it and groaning as I fucked him. I screamed out, knowing we were the only ones there and I could be as loud as I wanted.

"Fuuuck, baby." He said breathlessly, leaning back again and looking up at me. "You look so fuckin' pretty with my dick inside you." His thumb dug into my hips, brushing against my fresh tattoo that now matched his own.

"Negan! I'm gonna cum!" I cried out, letting my orgasm rip through me while my legs shook and collapsed until I sank all the way down on him again, not able to hold myself up.

"Goddamn! Look at the mess you made all over me." He said proudly and I looked down between us, seeing the pool of wetness where our bodies were connected.

"Sorry.." I said, blushing.

He hummed, looking up at you. "I don't believe you. Why don't you get on your knees and clean up your mess? Show daddy how sorry you are?"

He kissed me before I climbed off his lap and onto my knees in the floor, settling between his spread legs. His cock stood tall between his legs and I finally got a chance to admire it. Wrapping my hand around it, I stroked him slowly, studying every vein in his impressive length. I imagined the sight of this for so long, and I wanted to enjoy it.

Pushing his hard cock away, I dipped my head between his crotch and sucked one of his large balls into my mouth, moaning around it. Negan's leg twitched at the sudden sensitivity as he gently wrapped his hand in my hair.

"Shit, baby. Been awhile since someone's had my balls in their mouth. Forgot how - oh, fuck - how good it feels."

I gave the other one some attention before finally licking up his shaft until I reached the tip, wrapping my mouth firmly around his thick head. He tasted like a mix of my pussy and his precum and it was the most heavenly thing I had ever experienced. I savored it as I took him as far as I could in the back of my throat, gagging slightly before pulling back. I continued this for awhile, taking turns sucking and stroking him until my mouth was dripping with spit and his dick was soaked.

"Ohhh fuck, baby, you ready for my cum?" He said quickly, guiding my head back to his cock. He let out a loud, strained groan as I felt him empty himself down my throat. I moaned around him, not pulling away until every drop was swallowed.

Negan leaned down, wrapping his hand around my throat and pulling me towards him for a kiss. I slipped my tongue in his mouth, letting him taste us and his eyes fluttered shut.

"I should have failed you." He signed when he finally broke away from the kiss.

"What? Why?"

"Art won't be the same without you. I dunno if I want to teach anymore now that you're graduating."

"Don't be silly. You've always loved art."

Negan chuckled, pulling me into his lap again. "No.. I've always loved you."

Tag list: (let me know if you wanted to be added to my future negan fic tag list)

@loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor

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cubffections · 2 days

Text

cw. nsfw ! just fluffy outside sex with dear cyno ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ

a light breath of the night wind flutters pass the blades of luscious grass that surrounds you both.

cyno has you laid beneath him as he watches you squirm from the soft grass tickling your skin. in the back of his head he knows you’d rather be laid inside the tent instead than here, attire visibly ruffled and messy, so without missing a beat he flips you both over.

“don't need you grumbling at me later.” he remarks, his hands massaging at your sides as he adjusted you on his groin, bucking his hips to test the position, an amused look swirling in his eyes when you jolted from the sudden movement.

“as if this would cut it . . can't you wait until we head back to the tent ?” you whine, palms flat on his chest. eyes diverting as you felt your face flush after making contact with those sanguine eyes that peered up at you. you know he couldn't wait, the need in his glare speaking more volumes than anything he could say at the moment.

“well, does it look like i can baby?” cyno responded, establishing a slow grind. call him hungry— starved even, but you wouldn't know about the nights he’d fuck his fist just hoping he could convince himself even slightly it was your cunt. he’d imagine how hot it’d feel inside you or how well you’d sink down on him, arms wrapped around his neck as you circled your hips around his throbbing dick. those thoughts alone allow him to endure drawn-out cases that would prevent him from coming back home to you in time.

it’s been too long since you both had a moment like this. he could count how many times he came from his filthy fantasies of you from the last month alone. his honed self control seeming non-existent whenever you're around, all that's left is his intense desire to fuck his cum into you in every part of sumeru.

with eyes train on each other, you both paused as if time had stood still. the breeze of gandharva ville greeting the two of you once more, as bird chirps sang through the night sky.

“y’know, would make a joke about the wind, but it blo—” your lips swiftly pressed against the mahamatra before he could finish his pun in exasperation. a shift of balance causing you both to fall into a more desperate kiss inside silky grassland, the stars bearing witness to the scenes that came next.

don't worry, he’ll make sure to tell you that joke later. ˖˙⟡

#𑄼ల۫ ﹒𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈 . .#cyno x reader #cyno smut #cyno x you #gi cyno #cyno genshin impact #genshin cyno #genshin smut #((៸៸⩊៸៸)𖥔 ࣪ new quest has him all sparkly in m'brain !

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queenshelby · 3 days

Text

The Price for Fame (Part One)

Pairing: Dark!Cillian Murphy x Innocent!Reader

Warning: Manipulation, Infidelity, Smut, Dub-Con, Age-Gap, Cillian is being a bully in this one. It's pure filth.

Just last month, you turned eighteen and moved to Los Angeles to pursue your acting career.

With the help of your friend, Florence Pugh, you scored a role in a new movie which was produced by several big names in the industry, including 48-year-old Oscar winner Cillian Murphy.

Bold enough to believe that life as an acclaimed actress could be yours, you traded the innocence of a rural and religious upbringing for this glitzy haven where fame and glamour wove a pernicious network but it did not take long for things to fall out of place when you screwed up big time on set.

The embarrassment settled in like a slow, tormenting burn as you messed up your lines during a critical emotional scene as much as ten times, causing the shoot to be cut off momentarily. The director, Damien Chazelle, tried to hold his composure but the frustration simmered below the surface. You knew already that he had it out for you, wanting another actress to take your space, and your failure to perform this scene was simply the last straw for him and possibly the end of your career.

Thus, a quick huddle of the film's top players led to Cillian pulling you aside.

"Let's have a chat," he said coolly, those famous blue eyes impaling you with a steely glare. It was more of a command than an invitation.

"Sure, Cillian. I am so sorry about what happened on set," you stammered, knowing what this was going to be about.

He was one of the producers of the movie and it was his investment at stake, so you cut right to the chase, "I know you're disappointed but I swear it won't happen again. Anything you want me to do, I just want another chance."

Cillian studied your face for a beat, his blue eyes so piercing you thought he could see right down into the depths of your very soul.

"Let's talk in my trailer, Y/N," he finally said, and began striding off and you followed close behind, unsure of what to expect once you entered his inner sanctum.

"Listen, I'm getting some heat thanks to you," he began as he sat down and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his bent knees. "Damien wants you out and I'm getting slammed on all sides for not firing you."

Your heart dropped into your stomach, the implications clear as day. You had to somehow atone for the massive screw-up on set and convince Cillian that you were still a valuable part of this project.

"Please, just tell me what to do and I'll do it," you said, looking him straight in the eye. "I can't afford to lose this opportunity. I'll do whatever it takes."

The words hung heavy in the air and Cillian seemed to consider them before finally responding.

"Whatever it takes, huh?" Cillian repeated, as if mulling over your words. His gaze never left yours, and the intensity of it made you squirm in your seat. "Well, you are a young and attractive woman, Y/N and we could, potentially, come to some kind of arrangement that would keep you employed on this film."

The implications of his words sent a shock through your system. Was he suggesting what you thought he was suggesting?

"What... what kind of arrangement?" you stammered, hating how weak you sounded but unable to control it.

Cillian leaned back in his seat now, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, I think you know."

You shook your head in confusion. You didn't though, not really.

But the way Cillian was looking at you, like you were some sort of puzzle to be figured out, made you feel exposed and vulnerable.

"You need to be more specific," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Cillian leaned forward again; his gaze unwavering. "Alright then. Let me be clear. I want to have you in my bed, every night, sometimes even during the day, until we are done filming," Cillian said, his gaze intense.

"What?" you exclaimed, your voice barely above a whisper. "You want me to, uhm, like have sex with you?" you asked and Cillian nodded almost bluntly.

Your mind raced as you tried to process his words. Was this some kind of joke? It had to be, right? Except Cillian's expression was completely serious.

"I don't understand," you said finally, your voice shaking. "Why would you want that? You are married and I am much younger than you," you protested, still reeling from his outlandish request.

Cillian sighed and rubbed his temples before looking back at you. "I am married but my wife is not here, and I do have needs, so this seems like an easy solution for me. Plus, I won't deny that I find you attractive," he told you and you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. This was not what you had expected when you agreed to come to his trailer. Your mind raced as you tried to come up with a response that wouldn't ruin your career completely.

"I am flattered but I have a boyfriend and we were waiting until marriage, so I have never been intimate with anyone," you told Cillian, hoping that would put an end to this conversation. But instead of appearing taken aback, Cillian seemed almost pleased by this revelation.

"Really?" he said, with a cunning smile before carrying on. "Well, I can be gentle and, as I see it, no one needs to know about this arrangement. Not your boyfriend, not my wife, and especially not anyone on set," Cillian leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. His piercing blue eyes bore into you, softening just slightly.

"I don't know. I don't think I can do this," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart was still racing, and your mind was swirling with indecision. On one hand, you couldn't afford to lose this opportunity, and on the other, you couldn't imagine betraying your boyfriend like this.

Cillian leaned back in his seat, studying you for a moment before speaking. "Look, Y/N, I understand your hesitation, but this is purely a business arrangement," Cillian said, his voice low and soothing as he tried to persuade you.

A silence fell between the two of you as you contemplated his words. The dilemma wrestling within you was palpable, the weight of the decision threatening to crush you.

His voice broke through the silence once more, "Think about it, Y/N. You need this role, and I need... well, I need something else."

Cillian's words lingered in the air, making you uncomfortable, and the thought of betraying your boyfriend's trust made your stomach churn.

"Okay, but you have to wear a condom and no kissing," you finally agreed, trying to put in some boundaries.

Cillian's face lit up with excitement as if he had just won a jackpot, but he quickly hid it with a mask of composure. "Of course, Y/N. Whatever makes you comfortable."

You felt violated by the sudden power shift, but you couldn't deny that Cillian was offering you a lifeline, an opportunity to save yourself from drowning in the cutthroat industry of Hollywood. You had come too far to throw it all away for principles that seemed so trivial now.

"Tonight, 8 o'clock at my house, wear something nice," Cillian instructed, before dismissing you with a wave.

The audacity of it all left you breathless. In no universe did you imagine that your innocence would be the currency for maintaining employment in this industry. Yet, here you were, walking away from his trailer, carrying the burden of a secret agreement that clashed heavily with your very soul.

***

Eight o'clock came around soon enough, and after hours of overthinking, you stood by Cillian's front door, wearing an elegant red dress and high heels. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you hesitated for a moment, hesitant to knock.

Cillian answered the door with a seductive smirk on his face. "Right on time," he drawled. His gaze raked over you, leaving a trail of discomfort in its wake. You murmured a soft greeting and stepped inside.

The terrace he was staying it for the duration of filming was nice, tastefully decorated and obviously very expensive.

Cillian led you to the living room where he handed you a glass of wine and whilst you did not usually drink alcohol, you decided tonight was different. You needed to calm your nerves and calm down your inhibitions.

As you sipped on the red liquid, he gave you a tour of his house and, without losing too much time, he led you to his bedroom.

"Let's get this over with," you gasped quietly, trying to sound confident but your trembling voice betrayed your true emotions.

"Eager are we?" Cillian chuckled as you put down your half-finished wine and sat down on the edge of the mattress, noticing a packet of condoms and a bottle of lubricant on the nightstand.

"No, like I said, I just want to get this over with," you reiterated, biting your lower lip nervously. "I don't want this, but you do, and I want to keep my job, so let's just make this quick," you added, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Alright then," Cillian chuckled, that smug grin still on his face as he moved closer to you. Without losing any time, he pulled his t-shirt over his head before slowly undoing his belt.

"Why don't you get down on to your knees and get me hard , hmm?" Cillian suggested, the lascivious look in his eyes causing you to shudder.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling repulsed at the idea of going down on him but before you could protest, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look up at him. "Don't pretend you don't want this," he growled, his hot breath on your face making you cringe.

"Okay," you nodded reluctantly, your voice barely above a whisper.

You sunk down to your knees on the plush carpet, feeling completely degraded and humiliated. You could feel the bile rising in your throat as you looked up at him, his crotch directly in front of your face.

Cillian's face was smug as he unzipped his jeans, tugging them down along with his boxers. His cock sprang free, already semi-hard and pointing directly at your face.

"Go on then," he commanded gruffly, unaware that you had never done this before either.

But you knew you couldn't refuse him. Not if you wanted to keep your job and avoid any negative consequences.

So with shaking hands, you reached up and wrapped your fingers around his thick shaft.

Cillian let out a low moan as you began to stroke him, your grip tight as you moved your hand up and down his length. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and every movement made your stomach churn.

But you knew this was the price of maintaining your career, so you forced yourself to continue.

Pre-cum glistened on the tip of his cock, an indication of his growing arousal and, even though you did not know what it was, you pulled away slightly.

"Now be a good girl for me and open your mouth ," Cillian demanded.

You hesitated again, feeling even more repulsed by the request. But you knew there was no room for hesitation or resistance, not if you wanted to keep your job and avoid any negative consequences. So, with trembling lips, you parted your mouth as wide as you could, trying to suppress the sick feeling rising up in your stomach.

"Now stick out your tongue," he ordered.

You did as you were told, sticking out your tongue and closing your eyes which is when Cillian collected some of his pre-cum with his index finger and smeared it on to your tongue.

You opened your eyes , still trembling as you stared up at him, hating every moment of this degradation. Cillian just smiled down at you before nodding for you to continue.

You reluctantly wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, wincing as the taste of salt and bitter muskiness filled your mouth.

Cillian then grabbed a fistful of your hair, using it to guide his cock deep into your mouth. He pushed it in farther than you expected, causing you to gag.

"You're going to have to relax and take it all in," he said, his tone cruel and condescending. "Otherwise we're never going to get anywhere."

You swallowed hard, fighting the urge to vomit as you felt his cock hit the back of your throat.

"Sshh , deep breaths," Cillian cooed softly, tugging on your hair as he pulled his hips back and thrust forward again.

You kept your breathing steady and shallow, trying to prevent yourself from gagging on his length. Tears streamed down your cheeks as Cillian's rhythm grew quicker. He groaned with pleasure, his grip on your hair tightening.

Suddenly he pulled out of you, and the sudden emptiness caused relief to flood through you.

"I want you on all fours now, baby," Cillian growled, his voice husky with lust. "That way, I can see how your virgin hole stretches around my cock when I stick it in there."

You swallowed hard, feeling scared but still you complied. You reluctantly positioned yourself on all fours, your heart pounding in your chest as Cillian reached for the condom packet and lubrication.

Cillian tore open the condom packet with his teeth, rolling it down his hard shaft before squeezing out a generous amount of lubrication onto his fingers. He traced them teasingly over your dry folds, causing you to flinch at the unfamiliar touch.

"Please, just get it over with," you whimpered, your voice trembling as you braced yourself for the excruciating pain of losing your virginity.

Cillian chuckled at your eagerness, but you could hear the sarcasm behind it. "So eager to give up that sweet little cherry of yours, huh?" he asked as he positioned himself behind you, the head of his cock brushed up against your entrance.

"This might hurt a little, but I want you to relax and let me in," he said as he began to push himself inside of you.

You couldn't help but let out a loud gasp as the burning sensation of pain spread throughout your entire body. You couldn't believe that you were actually doing this, allowing yourself to be used like this, for nothing but your career.

"Just breathe," Cillian whispered in your ear as he continued to push deeper inside of you.

You felt him bottom out inside of you, and the feeling of fullness was almost too much to bear.

But before you could say anything, he began to thrust in and out of your tight hole, the friction causing a burning sensation to radiate throughout your body.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Cillian groaned, his hips snapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. You couldn't help but let out a loud gasp every time he entered you, feeling every inch of him as he stretched you open.

Sweat dripped down Cillian's forehead, his breath coming out in harsh pants as he continued to pound into you.

"And you are going to have that cock of mine inside you every day now," Cillian grunted, his voice hoarse as he continued to pump in and out of you. His words made you feel dirty and cheap, but there was nothing you could do to stop him. You were trapped in this situation, trapped in this twisted arrangement between a successful actor and a desperate young actress trying to make it in Hollywood.

Cillian reached between your legs, his fingers finding your clit as he began to circle and rub, causing you to moan involuntarily. The mix of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, making it hard for you to catch your breath.

You came, fast, and then you were in a state of shock, unable to fully comprehend what was happening to you. The man behind you, Cillian, continued to thrust into you with no mercy, his balls slapping against your clit with each pump. His fingers were still manipulating your delicate button, and the combined sensations were building up deep within your core.

Cillian grunted, his pace increasing. You could feel his cock swell inside of you as he approached his own climax.

He then groaned loudly, his fingers digging into your hips as he slammed into you with a final thrust. You could feel him pulsating inside of you, the condom filling with his hot seed.

Soon after that, Cillian withdrew from you, and your body ached with the emptiness. He tossed the used condom to the side before collapsing onto the bed next to you.

"You impressed me tonight," Cillian said breathlessly as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

His body was slick with sweat, and his cock was still semi-hard against your thigh.

"I had to," you muttered, pulling away from his embrace. You couldn't bear the thought of being close to him after what just transpired between you.

Cillian chuckled softly, his breath hot against your neck. "I know, and I'm grateful," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss on the curve of your shoulder.

"I want you to go on the pill," he said, his voice firm. "I can't be bothered with condoms all the time, and I want to feel you bare. Can you do that for me?"

His request caught you off guard, but you didn't protest. You were already in too deep, and a part of you wanted to give him what he wanted.

"Okay," you murmured softly.

Cillian smiled at your response, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare thigh.

"Good girl," he whispered approvingly, before pulling you close for another bruising kiss before leaving you to clean yourself up and head back home.

Tags:

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@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

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#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

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underacalicosky · 2 days

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I continue to torture myself with fix-it scenarios where Anakin just can't handle seeing Obi-Wan having an emotional meltdown and gives up the dark side as a result. What if Obi-Wan was a wibbly mess on Mustafar?

“Until now, you’ve become the very thing you swore to destroy.”

“Don’t lecture me, Obi-Wan. I see—“

“Lecture you?!” Obi-Wan snaps suddenly, his voice bellowing. “You think I came here to lecture you?”

His sharp tone makes Anakin take a step back. He sucks in a shaky breath and straightens his posture, refusing to be rattled. As he opens his mouth to respond, Obi-Wan continues interrupting him.

“No, Anakin, I lecture you for staying up too late. For not folding your tunics properly.” His voice gets progressively louder and more impatient. “For not getting enough fiber in your diet! I’m not here to lecture you. I was sent here to kill you!” Obi-Wan yells.

Anakin knows it’s the reason why Obi-Wan is here, but to hear him say the words, with such certainty, makes his heart plummet. He’d hoped, with whatever little hope was left, that he wouldn’t have to fight Obi-Wan. His chest aches, knowing that this is how it must end. But he ignores the weakness that still lives in him and draws on the dark side for strength. The Force ripples around them when he pulls on it.

“And kill the rest of myself along with you,” Obi-Wan says furiously. “Part of me has already died.” He fixes Anakin with an intense stare, a seething fire in his eyes.

Taking another deep breath, Anakin narrows his eyes and returns his glare. He’s never seen Obi-Wan angry like this. It frightens him, but he keeps pacing like he's a caged wild animal because he can’t let it show.

“It died when you knelt in front of a Sith lord and proclaimed him your Master!” Obi-Wan’s face twists with uncontrolled and un-Jedi-like rage. “It died knowing that you would trade me for him. Do I mean that little to you?” he demands, spreading his hands and arms out in front of him. “I poured all of myself into training you and raising you and—”

With matching ferocity, Anakin shakes his head. “This isn’t about you!” Anakin yells, pointing at him.

“Of course it’s about me!” Obi-Wan yells back. “Your mother entrusted you to Qui-Gon and he entrusted you to me. Do you know what it was like everyday being scared out of my mind that I would let them down? That I would let you down?”

This is not Obi-Wan. Anakin was prepared for Obi-Wan to use reason. To remain somewhat collected as he projected his disappointment. Perhaps confronting Anakin with all the ways he’s violated the Jedi code, betrayed the Republic and democracy.

Obi-Wan’s skillfully talked circles around politicians, foreign royalty, the Jedi Council and kept his emotions at bay every time.

But this… Anakin is unprepared for this.

“No,” Anakin says with another shake of his head. “No, I made these choices,” he insists.

“Maybe I should’ve left the Order with you. We would’ve found our own way.” Obi-Wan was lost in his own thoughts, his eyes ticking everywhere at once, unable to focus. “And I wouldn’t have had to train you to be a soldier. Wouldn’t have dragged you through a war. Wouldn’t have let Palpatine near you.”

“I never wanted to be a burden!” Anakin cries.

“You weren’t a burden! You were my brother, Anakin! My greatest joy!” Obi-Wan screams. “What could I have done differently to stop this?” Obi-Wan asks, nearly begging.

With his fists balled at his sides, Anakin holds onto the last vestiges of his resolve. He can’t let Obi-Wan break him.

“We can’t change the past,” Anakin says, his voice hollow.

“Did I not love you enough?” Obi-Wan asks sadly, tears streaming down his face.

Instinctively, Anakin reaches for him through their bond, a habit formed from years of training and bickering and teasing and laughing and to his horror, it recoils and his heart shatters.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Anakin stomps his foot. He can’t have both. He can’t embrace the dark side to exploit its unnatural powers and still expect to find comfort in the golden and pure light that tethers him to Obi-Wan.

Anakin Skywalker has made a lot of choices in the last day. And here, he makes another.

With his head hung, he relaxes his hands and releases. The ground beneath them shakes as the dark, consuming anger bleeds from him.

Again he touches their bond, tenderly. Lovingly. Apologetically.

“I can’t change the past, but help me change the future,” Anakin sobs. “Please. We need to save Padmé. And the baby.”

Finally, Obi-Wan blinks as he snaps out of his trance. His eyes lock on Padme’s unmoving form on the ground and Anakin sees the moment that Obi-Wan realizes his renewed purpose.

“Yes. Get her onto the ship,” Obi-Wan says with the authority of a war General. “I’ll make sure 3PO and Artoo are both accounted for and have them help me find the nearest medical facility,” Obi-Wan says.

“If the Republic finds me… after what I’ve done…”

“Then we need to be careful where we go so they won’t find us,” Obi-Wan tells him and glances at Padmé, then back at Anakin before he boards the ship.

#obikin #obikin fix-it #it's obikin but not obikin #you understand

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ghouljams · 8 hours

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aren’t there some scp staff who have resistance to more intense cognitohazards? im wondering how 141-b would react when the interviewer isn’t as affected as previous people he’s talked to. would he try something else, or possibly become aggressive? you have me crawling back into my scp roots ghoul it’s got me listening to some of the files on youtube again lol

There are staff on site that have proven to be resistant to memetic and cognitohazards, and have been exceptionally helpful in the process of interviewing SCP-141-a and SCP-141-b. Currently SCP-141-b is not available for further testing due to an outbreak of his memetic hazard in the ⬛️⬛️ Lab.

Current containment procedures for SCP-141-b are being revised and security staff near his cell are being rotated every half hour.

!Warning Cognitohazardous Material Detected, Level 4 Clearance Required!

-> View Interview Log 2, SCP-141-b?

->Yes

Interview Log 2, SCP-141-b

Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Hello Kyle, how are you feeling today? SCP-141-b: I'm alright. What happened to the other guy? Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Doctor Mueller is reporting false memories pertaining to you. We thought it best if I interviewed you from now on. SCP-141-b: Weird. You got any idea when we'll be getting out of here? Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: I'm afraid not. (Several minutes of silence lapse, the only noise on the tape appears to be a low hum of background static) SCP-141-b: Do I know you? Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: I don't think so. SCP-141-b: No, I think I do. Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: This is our first meeting as far as I'm aware. SCP-141-b: Maybe you just have one of those faces. Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Is that what people tell you? SCP-141-b: Tell me what? Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: That you have one of those faces, that they recognize you. SCP-141-b: Recognize me? Dr. ⬛️��️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Or remember you, even when you've never met them before. SCP-141-b: How's that work? Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: That's what we're trying to find out. You seem to have some sort of memetic hazard about you, but we're not sure how it's activated. SCP-141-b: Memetic- Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: I'm sorry do you hear that? SCP-141-b: I don't hear anything. (Silence again, there is still a low background hum of static) SCP-141-b: You alrigh'? Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: Yeah I'm- I'm fine. How are you today Kyle? SCP-141-b: Doin' alright. You have any idea when we'll be getting out of here? Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️: I'm afraid not.

Observation note:

SCP-141-b and Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ appear to repeat and restart their conversation multiple times over the next 45 minutes of the tape. By minute 40 Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ is shouting over a perceived noise. After the hour has elapsed Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ is removed from the interview room and inspected by medical personnel for a migraine. SCP-141-b remains friendly but neutral towards staff.

Note from Dr. ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️:

I can hear it, I know I can hear it. It's scratching at my brain like nails on a chalk board, how can you all not hear it?

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz modern warfare #gaz garrick #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #scp au #scp!141 #scp!gaz

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tomssexdoll · 3 days

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hey boobie toobie

so, you and bill are in an argument. a nasty one. in a hotel of all places. he’s been texting you he’d return to the hotel early all week but getting there at 3am which obviously raises suspicion. you accuse him that he might be cheating or doing something dangerous. after a few insults are thrown from both ends, he mentions your eating disorder. a sensitive place you both swore to never mention. “well at least i can fucking eat,” you felt your heart break. there was a moment of silence as you registered what he said. “fuck- liebe im sorry” he tried apologizing, but you didn’t wanna hear it. “no, get the **fuck** away from me, bill-“ you snapped. you slapped his hands as they tried to comfort you. you grabbed your things and stormed out of the hotel room. you had nowhere to go. all of your friends were hours away since you followed bill on tour. your first thought was gustav, he was so sweet and could definitely cheer you up. he was your closest friend in the band. it would usually be bill, but for obvious reasons not today. you stumbled to gustav’s hotel room and knocked gently but eagerly. he swung open the door, confused expression. “c-can i come in?” as gustav lets you in, you start rambling about what happened. you even began to cry. gustav succeeds in calming you down and eventually bill knocks on the door. gustav answers and sees you on his bed looking a mess. “y/n!” he exclaims and pushed past gustav to get to you. “i don’t wanna see you,” you mumble. “schatz, please? i’ll make it up to you” he pleads. you finally agree and bill leads you out of the hotel and into your favorite nearby restaurant where at your table, he apologizes about everything and you forgive him :)

omg yes ily

How could you?

PAIRINGS: Bill 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: SMUT

SYPNOSIS: Bill and Y/N get in a heated argument after he yet again returns home late, he mentions something they both agreed they'd never bring up ever, going to Gustav for comfort.

A/N: hi

WARNINGS: yelling, arguing, mentions of eating disorder

Bill has been acting weird lately. We were on a tour for his band and stayed at a hotel in Paris. He'd been texting me all week that he'd be home early but would always manage to come around 3am, rough looking.

It really hurt me seeing him do this, he never really acted like this in the past so I never understood what provoked it. Was he cheating? Or worse, doing something illegal or dangerous? It was a foreign country and he could get killed.

Every night my heart filled with worry, tears falling down my cheeks at the minutes going by where he still wasn't home. Tonight he came home late again, the clock read 3:04am. He bursted in, chucking himself on the bed in hopes to go to bed and prevent my yelling. But I had enough of his bullshit.

"Don't try and sleep your way out of this, get the fuck up," I raised my voice, "where have you been all night? You texted me 5 hours ago and said you'd be home" I sighed.

He just rolled his eyes, slowly getting up, "I don't want to hear it y/n, I'm fucking tired" he groaned deeply, walking towards me. "I don't care if you're tired, clearly you're not tired enough to go out every night and do god knows what" I spat, crossing my arms.

"Oh shut up, you're always worrying about stupid things" "stupid things? For all I know you could be cheating, is that what you're doing? Because if you are it's not very discreet" I glared at him, testing his patience.

"Oh my god, of course I'm not cheating" he grunted, looking down at me intensely, his eyes piercing through mine. "Then what are you doing? Doing illegal things? Drugs? Stealing things? Hm?" I spoke to him like I was his mother, lecturing him on his whereabouts.

"No! For fuck sakes you're so controlling! Always telling me what to do, you're psycho!" he raised his voice, grabbing my arm. I slapped his hand away as soon as it got into contact with my skin, "how dare you? You fucking pig!" I yelled.

Great, we were arguing once again. In a fucking hotel of all places.

He got visibly more angry, his eyes narrowing at me "don't fucking call me that, you're a fucking bitch" he growled, "always complaining, bitching and moaning, I should've just left you at home for fuck sakes" rubbing his temples in frustation.

"Oh great, thanks, that makes me feel wonderful," I rolled my eyes, turning away from him and sitting down onto the bed. "Now you're the one walking away, I thought we were going to talk about it schatz?" he taunted, "oh don't even Bill, you're so fucking selfish," I scoffed.

"Selfish? Yet I'm the one who provides you with fucking everything, I spoil you all the time with gifts," a scowl appearing on his face. "It's not about the money Bill, it's about quality time and love, it seems you can't even do that properly," I sighed.

"Can't do it properly?" he chuckled, "let's talk about what you can't do properly, at least I can fucking eat properly, can you say the same?" he spat out, his words bitter and cruel.

My heart just broke at his words, my mouth slightly agape. He knew that I struggled with an eating disorder, a place we both swore never to mention.

There was an awkward silence before what he said registered in his head, his expression going from anger to guilt, his eyes softening. "Oh fuck...liebe I'm so so sorry," he rushed towards me, trying to apologise but it went through one ear and out the other.

His hands came towards to waist, trying to pull me close and get away with such a horrible comment. "No! Get the fuck away from me Bill," I snapped, slapping his hands away from me. I got up and started to pack my things, ignoring his cries for me.

I stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me, trying to figure out where I should go. I wasn't close enough with Tom or Georg..my friends were hours away. Then I realized Gustav would welcome me with open arms, I rushed over to his room and knocked gently on the door, urgent to go in so Bill wouldn't drag me back to our room.

After a moment he swung the door open, confused to see me standing there with my things, "what's wrong Y/N?" he frowned, glancing from my face to my bags.

"C-can I come in.." I bit my lip, trying to stop tears from pouring out of my eyes, voice slightly shaky. He nodded quickly and let me in, closing the door softly behind me and leading me to his bed.

"So what happened, was it Bill?" he sighed, running his thumb over my hand, a friendly gesture he'd usually do if I was upset. I nodded, "he..he brought up my eating disorder in a fight.." I burst into tears, Gustav immediately wrapping his arms around me, "I'm sorry y/n..that's such a shitty thing for him to do.." he sighed, comforting me.

I nodded and kept rambling about everything he was doing, staying out late and not telling me, lying and telling me how he would be home early. Gustav just listened to me, giving little comments here and there, rubbing my back soothingly.

I eventually calmed down, Gustavs calming voice making me feel better. He let go of me, running his thumb over my hand again, "I'm always here if you need someone to talk to, I know how mean he can get when he's tired" he smiled softly, I nodded and thanked him, he was an angel.

We kept on talking, discussing what I should do when I heard a soft knock, Gustav thought it might of been Georg or Tom or even room service so he got up, slowly approaching the door and opening it, Bills tall figure appearing in the doorway.

Bills eyes light up when he sees me, sitting on Gustavs bed, looking like a complete mess, my mascara smudged on my cheeks. He pushed past Gustav, running to me. I didn't even look up at him, not bearing to see his face after the words he said to me, "I don't want to see you.." I mumbled, he sighed deeply "schatz, please? I'll make it up to you," he pleads, leaning down to my level and holding my hands.

I turned to look at him, I sighed and agreed. I knew it was stupid but the look in his eyes just made me cave in, the way he could so easily woo me was dangerous.

"Thanks Gustav.." I smiled and hugged him, waving goodbye as we walked out of his room. Bill didn't speak, just held my hand and lead me downstairs into the lobby, walking out of the hotel and onto the streets.

Eventually we stood outside of my favourite resturant, Bill had called in a favour and they quickly opened at such a late hour, preparing for us. I smiled softly, trying to hide it from him.

"Cmon honey, let's go inside" he kissed my cheek softly, walking inside with me and sitting at our booth, a beautiful view of the city right next to us.

"I'm so sorry for what I said y/n..you know I didn't mean it, it was just the first thing that came to my head and I hadn't even fully processed it, I love you so much" he frowned, reaching over the table and taking my hands in his.

I sighed, "I know baby, I know you didn't mean for it to hurt me but..it really did" he nodded sympathetically, letting me vent my frustations out. "I still love you though, I'm willing to forgive you but if you bring it up again it won't be so easy to trust you again" I sighed, "I promise I won't bring it up, ever again" I smiled and brought his hands to my lips, kissing them softly.

"What were you even doing out so late?" I giggled, "honestly..I was literally just out at bars to destress from the concerts, sometimes I just went on walks that lasted hours, I'm sorry for lying and not telling you where I was, you're not controlling at all you just love and worry about me.." he sighed, embarrassed by his shitty actions.

"It's fine baby..you can just come to me for comfort, you know I'm always here" he nodded, grateful for the suggestion, "thanks baby, I love you so much, I'm so glad I have such a wonderful girl in my life, I don't know what I'd do without you.." he leaned across the table, kissing my lips softly.

tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @kaulitzsbabyy @ballhair @estxkios @bkaulitzlover @charliesgoodboy @tomsonlyslut @ge-billsgf

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