Tumgik
#like i swear i am trying to tag the shit out of this so that literally anyone can get me
poems-of-a-lover · 7 months
Text
i will never understand the "stop casting straight actors as gay characters" argument. people just wanna out gay actors so they can have a better grasp on who to hate.
14 notes · View notes
wavy-gorl · 1 year
Text
did not realize there was a community for this, but this is the internet i should've known
hi i was born with a cleft soft and hard palate, i didn't have a cleft lip or anything else (still tagging this because i wanna reach anyone who understands), my mom told me that i also have the thing where you have a really small chin combined with a cleft palate but i don't remember the name of the condition
i've like literally never been able to talk to anyone else who's had one and i mean my friends all know about it and i love them, but like they don't fully understand bc they haven't experienced it, you know how it is
but uh yeah i've always felt really weird labeling myself as like disabled or anything like that because i've always felt like my cleft palate wasn't enough but honestly my entire life has kinda revolved around it so i feel like i should
here's the part where i'm going to dump in a list all of my super specific experiences in hopes that someone will relate because i am so serious when i say that i've never talked to someone who relates before:
tw: idk medical stuff, ed mentioned (arfid specifically), mildly graphic i guess (just complaining about medical stuff i've had to deal with)
i've had 11 surgeries (feeding tube, adenoids removed, palate repairs, and ear tubes)
i have this sick as fuck second belly button and honestly sometimes i forget that most people only have one and i have to do a double take when i see other people's boring abdomens
i have a list of foods that i cannot eat because they taste like general anesthesia (including but not limited to: whoppers, onion rings, cranberry juice, blue candy hearts, and wintergreen life savers)
i was diagnosed with arfid recently, but i've had it my entire life because i had a feeding tube for the first year of my life and so i just cannot handle most food textures
i have really bad social skills and low self-esteem because i got bullied when i was younger because people couldn't understand me because my voice was really weird, this got better with surgeries but it didn't fix my lack of social skills
I HATED SPEECH THERAPY, like 14 years of it did not make s sounds easier to pronounce
i need hearing aids but i can't get them because i have holes in my ears and extreme drainage, but the holes are good because they allow my ears to drain but the fact that there's drainage is still bad and ahhhhhh
i'm 19 but i still have to go back and forth between the children's hospital and the regular one when it comes to palate stuff and it's honestly annoying sometimes (everyone's nice though so it's fine)
eating is awful because nose stuff i don't want to go into detail but iykyk (don't make me laugh while eating)
i don't have a uvula and when people find out, it's suddenly the most interesting fact they know about me and i don't get it
not even i know my full medical history it is so incredibly complex
i have a collection of my wristbands
the worst fucking thing in the world was the stupid nasal endoscopy, like early covid brain-poking tests were fucking nothing compared to that stupid camera going up my nose
mouth breathing
i have random vocal/breathing tics (i guess tic is the right term?) and they are annoying but yeah
every goddamn time i went to the orthodontist, he would always say every FUCKING TIME "don't let your mom tell you that you have a big mouth because i'm here to tell you otherwise" LIKE I GET IT
when i got my teeth pulled, the laughing gas didn't work because 1.) that shit's so weak and 2.) i had to breathe it in through my nose exclusively (mouth breathing point), but they didn't believe me and went along with the procedure anyway and after experiencing that, hell has nothing on me
my role model growing up was lentil bean, the cleft palate dog
the only piece of media i ever related to was Wonder, but even that one contributed to me feeling like i hadn't gone through enough to consider my cleft palate a big deal
i am a musician (singer and percussionist) but i can't breathe, hear, or speak properly and so i bet you can imagine how hellish that is
i had to quit dance when i was younger because i kept missing entire seasons because of my surgeries (since recovery was like 4 weeks sometimes) and i really wish that i didn't have to
ok yeah that's all i can think of please someone relate to me god please
54 notes · View notes
harrowharkwife · 1 year
Text
swear to god if i open a fanfic ONE MORE TIME only to be greeted with an author's note saying "i asked chatgpt to tell me a story about-" i am going to go fucking NUCLEAR
#it's NEVER tagged!!!#i am so sick and FUCKING tired of hearing about chat bot shit. it's irresponsible tech that is only gonna help spread misinformation#/be used as a tool by corporate America to crank out shitty computer generated content#bc anything is better than having to hire people and pay them what they're worth am i right guys!#my job won't shut up about chatgpt i don't wanna have to see this shit on AO3 dot gov! please! is anything sacred!#I've already started running into endless variations of the same regurgitated paraphrased clearly AI-written garbage misinformation article#half of the time whenever i try to google something! i just keep getting AI generated garbage instead of any actual helpful information#side note: is Google like... super fucking broken for anyone else in terms of 'i can't find any useful information about anything anymore'?#or is it just me?#but AUGH. tech bros will be our downfall i swear to god#keep the AI shit out of art and creative endeavors it's a slippery slope and it's not leading anywhere good#this is fucking nfts all over again#or at LEAST if you're gonna be posting chat gpt prompts to ao3 fucking TAG THEM AS SUCH#I'm at the point where i hear someone say AI or chatgpt in an excited tone of voice#and i just consider it an immediate red flag#I'll delete this later it's unnecessarily cunty and i realize that but my GOD im sick of it#is it not enough that all of these writing bots are training on ao3 fics without the authors consent or permission?#now we have to encourage it by putting AI shit on there to begin with?
8 notes · View notes
casterluci · 4 months
Text
got a 79 on my economics finals i need to jump off a cliff 😂
1 note · View note
Text
god i feel like such a dick
1 note · View note
satoruhour · 8 months
Text
LAUNDRY DAY
a/n: I AM ALLIVEEEEEEE 🔥🔥🔥🔥 sorry i had a crazy week! can be read as a standalone piece but based off gojo’s roommate au of here and here / tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @utahimeow @lov3rbody ☆
wc: 4k
warnings: sub!gojo that turns into dom!gojo, fem!reader, fantasising? gojo is a pervert too, mentions of semi-public sex, implied somnophilia, panty sniffing, pillow / dry humping, m! masturbation, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, praise, pet names, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
Tumblr media Tumblr media
living with you was hard. brushing his teeth with you was hard. being around you — hard. both figuratively and—
there’s a loud sigh from you.
clearly tired from the day’s activities of ushering in freshman after freshman, you lugged your body into the bathroom. the same rehearsed words have been leaving your mouth as your cheeks hurt more and more by the hour, only to repeat it all over again the next day.
“you look like shit,” it’s muffled by the way the toothbrush is stuffed into his mouth, foam peeking out from the corners of his mouth and you’re trying not to tell your roommate (and boyfriend) to shut up — you didn’t have the energy to do, much less say anything and you certainly didn’t have time for your lover’s clever quips so late in the night.
it didn’t help that you recently had an argument too; well, trivial to him but much more major to you. it was a matter of getting gojo to keep his laundry properly and to clean up after himself once he’s gotten himself comfortable in the relationship. it’s not like he doesn’t want to — he was cleaning up in the first place to impress you — but now since he’s got you, it’s like he simply expects you to act as his little wife when it was a shared space. the exact argument you used against him.
“satoru— this is a shared apartment! you can’t just leave tteokbokki cups lying around with the gochujang sauce still inside! it’s going to attract cockroaches and ants!” you gesture wildly, the sheer amount of trash lying around making you even sicker than you thought possible. getting paid to usher in freshmen and then coming home to this? it felt like every cent of your hard work had gone to waste.
there’s only a grin on his face, “you’re so attractive when you’re mad, baby.”
that was another thing: the lack of seriousness that gojo possessed at times, simply talking to piss you off, simply living to be the bane of your existence. “and you’re fucking unbelievable, gojo satoru. clean up— or don’t,” you made sure to lace that last word with venom, “i don’t care.”
that seemed enough for gojo to snap out of his stupor, “no, no— princess, fuck, i’m s—” his brows furrow when he briefly spots the thickening glaze of your eyes, possibly filling with tears before you’re marching into your room to slam the door and he swears to himself. satoru had never felt embarrassment and shame and sadness like that day; having just taken a shower but his skin was sweaty and uncomfortable and his heart sat right at his feet.
gojo swears he never wants to hear you say his full name ever again.
since then, it’s been a little tense between the two of you. geto had noticed it on movie night, shoko realised you haven’t been looking at your phone as often. hell, even prof. yaga had to tell you that you were distracted way too much lately, and it’s only been two days.
satoru tried to possibly take back what he said with whatever powers he didn’t possess, but he only gets another sigh from you as you squeeze the toothpaste out and start brushing your teeth, not even sparing him one glance in the mirror.
and yet while he was the first one to start his nightly routine, he’s left to be the last again from the way he’s unable to stop staring at you, a recurring trait of his whenever you were in the same room with him. it’s a testament of how attracted he was to you — at how his shirt slips off your shoulder from how big it was because even when you were mad at him, you forgot about that little detail. gojo’s eyes trail from your exposed shoulder to your legs and back up again to your fatigued face. he skims over the shape of your eyes and down to your nose and he thinks he’s the luckiest man to be brushing his teeth beside you now, blessed with seeing such an intimate side of you even if it’s as simple as this.
until gojo’s eyes fall upon your mouth as your toothbrush is doing its job of perfect innocence, cleaning some teeth, scraping off the bacteria on your tongue, except when you’re switching it from side to side all your roommate can think about if it was his dick instead. and the thought leaves him as fast it comes.
all you do is shoot him a weird look through the mirror when gojo exclaims like he was a vampire whose skin burned under the bathroom lighting, and he regains composure with ease.
“i’m fine! fine. doing a-okay.” satoru speaks through the foam and it’s spraying everywhere and you’re too tired to care before you hear another gulp when you move your toothbrush again, “sorry! sorry— continue please.”
gojo is starstruck for an entirely different reason, now, watching the toothbrush making bulges at the side of your mouth as it moves in and out and he’s left to fantasise about the many, many times you’ve gotten him in you and the warmth of everything. he can feel himself get hard under his sweatpants when you start brushing your tongue and you gag and he wants to die standing in this 30 square foot bathroom because the last thing he wants to do is sexualise something perfectly mundane.
gojo isn’t like that (well, most of the time. can’t blame him for finding you smokin’ hot).
“what the fuck is your problem?” you’re speaking through your foamy mouth now, spitting it out and proceeding to clean up with no clue of what you do to him. satoru on the other hand — terribly excited that you’d even open your mouth to talk to him after two days of endless silent treatment. 
“nothing, baby. it’s nothing, i promise.” you can’t lie at the way your heart jumps at the familiarity of it all, of being in such proximity to your lover, doing domestic things like these and the ‘baby’ and yet your pride is holding you back on everything.
you go straight to sleep, too, not wanting to entertain anything related to gojo satoru and you feel just a little bad when he looks at you with those baby blues and a sweet pout on his face. he looked especially pathetic in the bathroom, like a deer caught in headlights at just the presence of you and you want nothing more to apologise. it’s never that easy, though; you needed a promise, you needed the reassurance that he wouldn’t be leaving you to clean up after him again.
all these worries are willed away when you finally fall into slumber in your own room, body craving the warmth of satoru unknowingly. you had stolen a pillow the day before and it’s been the sole source of his scent, the only thing to keep your mind sane.
gojo’s heart drops again upon seeing you already deep in sleep, thinking he had a chance to catch you before you did, but the needines for you never goes down even now. he cannot take his mind off the way you’d run your hands through his hair or tangle your legs with his, satoru’s limbs recall the memory of you playing with his fingers and how you like to curl your arms around his neck. 48 hours is enough for him to go insane, and also maybe at how your leg was propped up on his missing pillow, hugging it so tight to your chest. you hadn’t bothered to wear pants either, so all he can see is the shape of your cunt under.
he stalks into the room and kneels in front of you, finger so tempted to run along your folds and make you wet, staring a whole minute and weighing his options until decides he doesn’t deserve it, turning away and closing your door softly.
“going now, satoru.” it’s soft when you mumble it, not even wanting him to hear before you’re stopped. you’re donning the uni orientation shirt and eyebags, a soggy sandwich from yesterday staining your bag with its smell. “what?”
“made you somethin’,” gojo’s cute like this with a frilly apron and hair band, still managing to tower over you despite the adorable get-up he’s got on, “it’s a bento.”
and you wish you could just melt the pride that runs through your bones and kiss him all over, and you break just a little. a small smile and you walk up to him, grabbing the lunchbox and pecking him softly on the cheek, turning away fast enough to not catch his fangirl moment — because you knew you wouldn’t be able to make it on time if you did.
“we still have to talk later when i come back, okay?” you call out as you put on your shoes and you steal one last glance at him, “and today’s laundry day. you know what t—”
“yes ma’am!” gojo salutes and you roll your eyes with a small smile, locking the door behind you with heat on your cheeks and the pounding of your heart. it was difficult not to break when it came to satoru, when he’s trying so hard to win back your words and love, and so tonight you’ve decided after the tiring week is when you’d finally stop running away over such a small matter.
although, gojo got caught up in something way beyond your expectations even if he had his initial intentions (which involved ordering your favourite takeout and kneeling at the front door in apology). 
your roommate lays around for a bit before grabbing some lunch and heading to the back room, a little extension attached to the kitchen with a tune on his lips. it’s clear he’s a little driven by your little innocent peck, a sign that maybe you weren’t so mad any more. for the next hour, satoru is contently doing the laundry with a smile, until—
the panties you threw in before showering must have fallen to the bottom of the pile, the same one he saw you wear last night and he thinks maybe the low humming buzz he heard last night wasn’t his imagination because when he picks it up he can smell your arousal. there’s a stain from the previous night and another pool of juices from this morning and he now knows that it wasn’t the kettle.
“dirty girl,” he grins, “both yesterday and this morning?” he’s thought about this for the longest time, always holding himself back because you found him weird enough even before you were dating, always letting you do your own separate load for your undergarments. but since you’ve gotten together, you were more comfortable, throwing it into the same laundry basket — the compulsion has never been this strong before.
gojo puts it up to his nose and smells like the pervert he is, among other times: teasing you with a hand down your pants when the two were over at your dorm, fucking you in the kitchen as they focused on the movie, pounding into you with the windows open, and he almost ascends at the scent of your pussy juices. there’s a spark that goes down right to his core and he palms his bulge unconsciously, coming to his senses when the washing machine beeps.
he impatiently puts in the settings and leaves, heading straight for your room and is hit with all reminders of you. the perfume you used this morning and the body wash you share with him, walking almost under a trance to your bed where he moans at the softness of the sheets as he falls face first. it doesn’t take him much to scoot to your pillows, but the need for you is just too much.
gojo grinds his cock into the bed, whining softly as he whiffs up your natural body smell, hips moving on their own accord as he manoeuvres a pillow between his legs. he humps it like a dog, groaning and moaning and the strain on his dick is just too much, balling up the undies in his hand and his body tenses at the friction. 
“baby . . f-fuck—” satoru’s voice is high-pitched and choked, all the thoughts of you culminating into one big ball of desperation for you and he cums in his pants, tainting the fabric a darker colour than before. but he’s not done — his hips still move against the pillow, thrusting into the fluff as he rides out his orgasm, moans muffled by the pillow. “miss you . .”
gojo misses you more than anything, feeling so much distance even within the house that he flips over — by now the sun shines its golden rays a little less. the afternoon is winding down into a cool evening — and pulls at the waistband of his pants. he’s still sensitive, wrapping a hand around his hard cock and pumping and the sound that leaves his mouth is borderline slutty. with another smell of your cunt, he strokes his dick, using his cum as lube.
“oh . . r-right there— mhnng . .” satoru’s hips buck into his hand, squeezing and thumbing at his cock before unbundling your panties and wrapping them around his shaft. the sight drives him insane. sure, it’s one of your more everyday underwear, neutral in both design and colour but he can feel the fabric get wetter and wetter from how much cum he’s pushed out earlier and that’s enough to keep his hand pumping. “s-sweetness, cummin—”
gojo’s head makes a dent in your other pillow from how hard he was pushing it, back arching at how the warmth in his hand will never compare to your mouth or pussy. he can already feel his second orgasm approaching, your room filled with the squelch of his cock and his sounds and he shoots his load with a drawn out moan all over your panties and his stomach. his cum is always so much, dripping down his pelvis and onto his hand and also . . yours?
your boyfriend lets out the girliest scream you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing, scrambling up to the headboard when he sees you hovering over his body. he accidentally kicks your chest in the process and you have to clutch it with a small “ow”, although a small smile is still present on your face.
“having fun?”
“dude, what the fuck?” 
your smile drops, “dude?”
gojo suddenly has his hands moving frantically, “nonono— no, sorry, i meant baby!”
you sigh, sitting back down on your heels as you take in the sight: his still hard cock and the sweat lining his body. his bangs are wet and your eyes flit down to your soiled underwear.
“uh . . i was just borrowing it,” gojo nervously chuckles, handing the cum-filled panty to you and your brows furrow.
“darling, you can’t just give someone back their clothes with your come on it.”
and your boyfriend pouts again, “i really am sorry. and for everything else, too. for not cleaning up and for being a general bum,” this is why you also (sometimes) favoured his unseriousness when you were talking about difficult things. the amount of times you had succumbed to his touches and kisses when you were mad at him was much better than your pride. gojo brings you onto his lap like his dick wasn’t just out, and you relish in the closeness you’ve missed.
“i need you to show me you mean it, ’toru,” he lights up at the nickname he loves just as you point a finger in his face, “aht! calm down. don’t think we’re all buddy-buddy again.”
“i will try,” gojo is smooth, taking your hand into his while the other brushes the hair away from your eyes. you lean into the touch, “and i will try until you see my efforts.”
you smile at his honesty, “and i’m sorry for ignoring you as well. it was childish of me.”
gojo hums, bringing your face in to plant a kiss to your lips, “i missed you like crazy, princess.”
you laugh, “yeah i can tell, i miss you too.” you gesture to all of him and he whines softly at the joke, squeezing your waist.
“you’re not weirded out?”
his breath hitches when you move down his body and situate yourself between them, finger tracing his tip and teasing him, “why would i be? i’ve literally fucked myself wearing your shirt.”
gojo gulps loudly, “you did w-what?”
“i’m just better at not getting caught.” all words are taken from his lips then, when your mouth engulfs him and the feeling of it is just pure insanity. gojo pants and his thighs tense, a hand gathering your hair into a ponytail to keep it from interfering. his eyes fixate on the way your suck him off, recalling the last time he’s watched you do that was in a damn bathroom. 
“y-your mouth—” satoru swears under his breath when you swirl your tongue around his shaft, the tip of his cock making bulges on the side of your mouth and it only leaves him calling out your name time after time.
“y’know,” you gargle on him, slurping up his cum, “i know what you were thinking starin’ at me last night.”
gojo snaps his fingers and mumbles out a shaky damn, because he can always be read like an open book. he just didn’t know he was that obvious.
“looked cute staring,” you mutter around him, “like a little puppy.”
you slap his thick length on your tongue, moaning when you feel just how heavy it is, “you just wanted this so bad, didn’t you?”
gojo whines at your words, nodding, and you go back to the abuse on his dick, bobbing your head up and down as your hand plays with his balls. the other moves over his torso, at the porcelain skin there and you can feel his stomach heaving at your ministrations.
“are you close, baby?” you ask mindlessly, the lewd sounds of his fat cock in your mouth sending sensations right down to your sex as well. you never really listen to his answer, taking a deep breath and sucking in your cheeks and soon you’re deep throating your lover.
“mh— mmf . .” sounds deep from your throat as your nose buries itself in his pubes, and satoru struggles to hold your tantalising stare. he can feel his tip hit the back of your throat and his moans are quick and high-pitched.
“cumming— ’m cumming,” before you come off and you go back to your pace and gojo’s small moans descend into longer ones at the feeling. his eyes roll back right into his skull as he twitches in your mouth and soon he’s spilling right into your throat and tongue.
“baby—” satoru’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut, “s-shit . .” and the sheer amount of cum always takes you off guard, sputtering over it when you drag your lips off of him. your boyfriend’s eyes are hooded and darkened, looking at how the strings of his semen droop from your mouth and connect right to his weeping tip.
“eugh, eat more veggies, ’toru. you’re bitter as fuck.” you say with a giggle, swallowing nonetheless as you wipe a hand across your mouth, “thanks for the meal.”
his spirit has certainly ascended, chest heaving and legs jelly from that mind-blowing orgasm. even he takes solace on the headboard, looking down at you with tired eyes.
“but i’m not done,” you truly weren’t, driving satoru to the brink after you’ve milked him to his limit, and yet he wouldn’t have it any other way as he thrusts into you, having had a new burst of energy after seeing your confidence wane once you’ve gotten his dick in you.
it was cute — your words breaking up and staggering as you sink down for the first time after two days, reduced merely to whines as you ride him. gojo lets you have your fun for a bit before he properly flips you over, pressing down on your lower back.
“fuck yourself onto me, baby,” he can tell you’ve missed him too by how you squeeze around him, a sly grin on his face when your hips push back onto him. he sees the tight hold you have on the silk sheets and the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. “good girl . . juuust like that.”
you’re jerking forward when he slaps your ass, letting it ripple from the force of both of his hand and your hips. but he takes over soon enough, grabbing both your arms and pulling you gently off that you’re hanging limply. and even while he does that, he’s still focused on the way your lips spread to accommodate him together with a ring of white at the base of his cock.
“that feel good? huh?” gojo mumbles, loving the way you arch your back and your head lols forward, just letting him do whatever he wants to you. you’re too far gone to even quell the ache in your thighs, too distracted by the wetness of your pussy.
“feel s— s’good, satoru—!” you moan out and like always satoru is indecisive in everything, now tugging you up to rest chest to back. “g’na cum!”
your legs spread more and more as your lover keeps you tightly pressed against him, an arm around your neck and the other, waist. wordlessly, he guides your face to the side, meeting your mouth in a sloppy, drooling kiss and his hips stutter at the way you mewl into his mouth.
“that right, princess?” he asks into your lips, relishing in your face contorting in pleasure. eyes reaching heaven and your mouth parted cutely even more when he props a leg up and his cockhead presses against your cervix ever so lightly.
“y—yeah . .” it’s a mix between a whine and a moan before the only rub of your clit from satoru’s hand sends you reeling and you’re trembling in his hold. you can feel your juices coat his length just as he cums as well, too obsessed with the way your cunt feels aeons better than his pathetic hand. he litters your skin with groans of his own, continue to fuck his cum back into you as you milk him dry with ropes and ropes of semen painting your womb white.
“good little girl,” he hums, and you sigh at the feeling of him cumming again, sensing him removing himself with you with an obscene pop! and you want to continue. you’re already moving your hips yet again, begging with small please’s but the happy-go-lucky song of the dryer interrupts the both of you. you scowl.
gojo laughs into your neck, and you’re left grumbling as he sets you down gently, letting you catch your breath before he presses a kiss to your sweaty cheek.
“i’ll handle it, baby,” satoru made a promise to you and he’ll keep it. he hurriedly pulls his sweatpants over his bottom half, “you just rest up.”
it’s not even two minutes later that you already miss him, trotting over to the laundry room in nothing but his shirt and you just watch as he removes the clothes with a certain tranquillity and delicateness that you’d like to see this sight more often and all you can muster in the moment is your arms around his middle.
and the sweetness of the moment is immediately ruined by gojo, “let’s fuck here. whaddya say?” 
your roommate and lover can only grin when you turn him around to smack him (“it’s!” slap “not!” slap “sanitary!” slap “here!” slap), finally happy everything’s back to normal. satoru simply presses a kiss to your temple.
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
pandorxxx · 1 year
Text
Watch and Learn
Neteyam (23), Lo’ak (22), Jake (Too damn old but we love a good dilf😮‍💨) x omatikayan fem reader (21)
[it took me 4 cinnamon pop tarts and the entire HSM 3 album to write this😌. I got to the good part when “a night to remember” came on😎]
Tags: @touchedflowers helped with this storyline. Love you girlyyy🫶🏽❤️
Tumblr media
🔞Minors, do not interact🔞
Warnings: SMUT THE HOUSE, p in v, squirting, cumming, cursing, hair pulling, orgasms (multiple)
“Where the hell are those boys.” Jake whispered to himself as his sons were late to the war party meeting, yet again.
“Should we just start without them?” Norm questioned, as he looked out into the crowd of warriors. Jake sighed, looking around before he spoke.
“I’ll go find them, just keep the warriors here! I’ll be back.” He commanded as he walked off to find lo’ak and Neteyam.
It had been around 20 minutes since Jake decided to go look for his sons, with no luck.
“I am going to kill them, I swear to G-“ he stopped in his tracks when he heard faint whimpering and screaming. He snapped his head towards the sound, noticing that it was coming from your hut.
“Shit…y/n!” Jake shouts, running towards the hut.
“Y/n, are you hu- what the HELL is going on in HERE??!!” Jake stopped in his tracks with a shocked look as he watched the scene infront of him:
Y/n, sitting on the table, completely naked as lo’ak stood between her legs. Neteyam, fondling her breasts harshly. The boys look up, scrambling to get their cloths back on.
“We- i” Neteyam starts, getting cut off.
“We- i, my ass! I thought she was dying, but you two knuckleheads are just in here trying to kill her I see.” Jake started with his hands on his hips.
“Why do you have her on the table like that, boy? That’s not the right angle! You’ll never get her to cum in that angle! We talked about this!” Jake explained, gesturing angrily.
“Yes, sir.” Lo’ak says sharply as he picked you up, placing you on the ground. Jake shakes his head before snapping his head at Neteyam.
“And what the hell were you doing, boy? Squeezing her breasts like that? What have I always told you?” Jake shouted, pointing his finger at an ashamed Neteyam.
“Tease ‘em, don’t squeeze ‘em…” he answered, barely above a whisper.
“That’s right!” Jake nodded, snapping his head at your small frame as stood between his sons.
“Y/n, how were they treating you, babygirl?” He asked, looking into your innocent eyes, as you swayed back and forth.
“Uhhh, they were fine.” You nod, covering your chest with your arms.
“Fine.” Jake smirked sarcastically, darting his eyes between the two boys.
“How in the absolute HELL were you two just fine….THERE ARE TWO OF YOU FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.” He gestured angrily, shaking his head.
“Let me show you two knuckleheads something.” Jake said, walking over to you. You couldn’t help but blush, smiling in your hand before meeting jakes eyes. You almost broke your neck trying to stare at him, as he towered over your small frame. He picked you up with ease and placed you on the table. The boys watching their dads every move. He placed you on the table, and turned it so that the boys could see everything.
“First of all…never EVER put her in this position again. If you want to fuck her like this, she has to be on the wall so her back is supported.” He explained sternly. The boys nodded in agreement.
“if you want to make her cum…” he started, taking you off of the table, turning you around so that your ass was on his already throbbing cock.
“You wanna put her like this.” He bent you over slightly, holding you by the bends of your elbows.
“Now if you want her to squirt” he picked you up by your hair, making you whimper. He grabbed the back of your thigh, placing it on the end of the table.
“You put her in this position, got it?” He snapped his head at the boys, as they nodded in unison.
“Good, now let me show the difference.” He put you in the previous position as he untied his loincloth, letting it drop to the ground. Your eyes widened at the feeling of his tip rubbing against your clit.
“You don’t just shove it in, you tease her first, and then….” He slowly slid into you, making your mouth fly open at him filling you to capacity.
“You slide it in, slooooowly” he explained, placing one his huge hands on your hip. He looked at his sons to meet their attentive gaze, before looking down at you.
“How you doing, sweetie?” Jake asked you, pulling your hair out of your face.
“F-fine, sir!” you grunt, trying to get used to his size, as his sons were no where near the size of him.
“You always wanna check on her, making sure she’s ok. What’s the fun if you’re hurting her? Or she’s not into it? Like watch this.” He thrusted into you slowly, causing you to let out a light moan.
The boys watched you, getting aroused all over again.
“It’s all about the angles, too. The sweetspot is upwards, so you wanna thrust upwards, like this.” He angles his hips, thrusting up into you, making your eyes roll back, letting out the prettiest moan.
“You keep doing that, and she’ll cum in no time.” He started to thrust into you, fast and deep. You were a mess under him, as he continued to hit your sweetspot.
“FUCK!” You shouted, filling your high coming already.
“Watch your mouth, y/n!” Jake growled as he slapped your ass, thrusting into you at a steady pace.
“I-I’m sorry, sir!” you whimpered, as you shut your eyes tightly.
“If you really wanna get her off, just talk her through it. Tell her what she wants to here!” He shouted over your loud moans. He bent down to your ear, kissing it.
“You like when your leader fucks you sensless ,huh?” He whispered in your ear, nibbling on it. Your mouth flew open, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“Mhmmm!” you hum with your bottom lip in your mouth. Jake kissed your neck before pinning you back to the table. You felt like you were about to explode.
Neteyam and lo’ak were both jerking off watching you become an absolute mess. Desperately waiting to get a turn.
“If you do everything that I tell you, she should-” he was interrupted by you screaming as you convulsed on his cock. He looked down to see his cock covered in your cream.
“Cum…” he chuckled, slowing down his thrusts to help you ride out your high. You were panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath. You were laying flat on the table, completely exhausted. Jake rubbed your back, comforting you.
“Now, it’s time for the main event.” He lifted you up by the back of your neck, putting your leg on the table. He lined his cock up with your throbbing cunt before sliding in slowly again. You threw your head back on him, crying out loud.
“I know, I know, you’re alright.” He tapped your stomach in an attempt to calm you down, before thrusting into you, at a steady pace. He wrapped his arms around your small waist, angling his thrusts upwards. You felt your high coming again, but more intense.
“Right when you feel her clench around you, that’s when you rub her clit.” He reached around to demonstrate. Your knees buckle, as the pleasure became too much. You scream out loud, as your eyes rolled back. You felt the knot in your stomach unravel as you squirted everywhere.
Neteyam and lo’ak’s eyes widened at your intense release.
Jake pulled out of slowly, as your juices ran down your legs. You were still shaking from your orgasm, laying on the table to calm yourself. Jake looked down at you, and then back at the boys, putting his hands on his hips.
“Ok, both of you pick one position, and make her orgasm. You can pick any method, I don’t give a damn, Got it?” He looked between the two boys, as they looked at each other.
“Neteyam, you go first boy.” Neteyam nodded, walking over to your limp body. He looked back at his dad, not knowing what to do with you in this state.
“She’s fine, just alittle tired. You got this, don’t be nervous, boy!” Jake clapped, before resting his hands on his hips again.
Neteyam looked back at you, leaning down to your ear.
“Uhhh, y/n? are yo-“ neteyam was cut off by lo’ak laughing.
“Dad, you should’ve let me go first. He’s being a wuss!” Lo’ak gestured towards Neteyam.
“Hush, boy!” Jake shouted at lo’ak. He snapped his head back at Neteyam with a disappointed look. Neteyam sighed, knowing what he had to do. He didn’t want to wear you out, but he didn’t want to disappoint his father either.
He grunted loudly before pulling you up by your hair. You yelped in pain, holding onto his arm.
“That’s what I’m talking about, boy! You got it!” Jake shook his fist, watching Neteyam to see what he would do next.
“I’m sorry, y/n….” neteyam whispered in your ear before sliding into you slowly. Your eyes widened, as you bit your lip. He gently shifted his grip from your hair to the folds of your arms. He thrusted up into you slowly, trying to take it easy on you.
“Mmmmm, don’t stop!” You moaned, letting your head go limp. Neteyams eyes widened at your response to his thrusts, making him speed up his pace.
“Yes!!! Yes!! yessss!!!” You cried as you felt him repeatedly hit your spot. He bit his lip, leaning down to your ear.
“You look so pretty, moaning on my cock.” He whispered, licking your ear lobe. Your eyes rolled back as you felt your high approaching quickly.
“That’s it, boy!” Jake shouted as he watched his oldest son dominate you, like a real man is supposed to.
“NETEYAMMMM” you whined, reaching to grab his hand. He intertwined his fingers with your as he clenched his jaw, watching you come undone on his cock. He looked down to see your cream covering his cock. He slowed down, letting you ride out your high.
“Like a real warrior! That’s what I’m talking about, boy!” Jake shouted proudly.
Neteyam pulled out of you slowly, gently laying you back down on the table, before walking away. Jake patted him on the back, followed by clapping.
“Ok lo’ak, it’s your turn, boy!” Jake motioned for him to step up. Lo’ak smirked at Neteyam before walking off.
“You made her cum, how cute. Now watch me make her squirt, dumbass!” He shook his head, walking towards your limp body with such confidence. He reached you, immediately pulling you up by your hair, placing your leg on the table .
“Ok, boy! Bold move, trying to make her squirt. Don’t get discouraged if she doesn’t, it takes a lot of practice.” Jake explained to lo’ak, but he wasn’t listening. He knew he was gonna have you screaming in a few.
He slowly slid into you, making you hum at the emptiness in you being filled for the third time. He started off slow, thrusting up into you. Your hums rapidly turned into loud moans as you felt him hit your spot repeatedly. He got carried away, grabbing you by your neck from behind, speeding up his pace.
your mouth flew opened, as you felt your high coming for the forth time that night. You gripped the hand wrapped around your neck as a tear fell on your cheek.
“Good job, boy! Now rub her clit, she’s over the edge!” Jake shouted
Lo’ak massaged your clit, causing your knees to buckle. He held you up with one arm wrapped around your tiny waist. He leaned down to your neck, leaving hickeys before he made his was up to your ear. His fangs grazed your earlobe before he spoke.
“Squirt…” and on command, your whole body shook violently, as you screamed his name. You squirted all over his stomach and thighs. He thrusted up into you slowly, making you shake with every stroke.
“SHIT!!” You panted, biting your lip. He pulled out of you slowly, watching your juices fall to the ground, trickling down your legs. He let you down gently before walking away.
“Goddammit, boy!!! That’s how you do it!!” Jake shouted, turning towards the boys.
“I’m proud of both of you!!! Good job!” he smiled, before looking back at your almost lifeless body. He chuckled as he watched you twitched occasionally.
“Now, get her cleaned up, and get to the damn meeting!” He shouted putting his loincloth back on, before walking out of the hut.
The brothers looked at each other, and stared back at you, laid across the table.
“Do you think she’s ok?” Neteyam asked, still staring at you. Lo’ak stared at you before speaking.
“I’m not going to lie” lo’ak started with a sarcastic grin, as he looked back at Neteyam.
“I have no idea, bro…”
Okayyyy, this low key good mannn, i like it a lot.I’m veryyy surprised that I haven’t seen more fanfics with all 3 of them but hey, I like to be first anyway😎. I will be working on other suggestions throughout the week so look out for that. Anywaysss love y’all, and I���ll see y’all later.
Outtie ❤️🖖🏾,
Pandorxx
6K notes · View notes
irisintheafterglow · 7 months
Note
hello!!! i saw your that your requests were open so i was wondering if you were able to write a hurt/comfort zoro x reader story about how the reader gets injured from a fight, but they don’t wanna be a burden so they hide it until they collapse on deck :)))
tell me that we’ll be just fine (opla!zoro x you)
wc: 1.74k
cw/tags: hurt/comfort with happy sappy ending, swearing, canon-typical violence, descriptions of blood and injury, mentions of drinking and alcohol, zoro just loves you and you worry the shit out of him
note: yassss i love hurt/comfort injury prompts (it's the innate desire to just be carried and be vulnerable and have someone care in my weakest hour and and and and) hope you like this, thank you for your request !!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
Tumblr media
“Guys, I am about to get so wasted.”
“We still have that good shit from Baratie, yeah?”
“Hiding in the back of the cellar, baby!” A loud smack rings out into the harbor as Usopp and Sanji’s hands clap together, deliriously excited after winning a scrimmage with a rival crew. Their proud vocalizations are added to by their captain and devolve into giddy skipping down the remainder of the dock as you make your way back to the ship. Zoro walks just ahead of you, glancing back every so often like he was worried you would collapse. You were planning to, but not now. Just get to the ship. Get to the ship and we’ll be fine.
“I vote Zoro for vomit duty tomorrow morning,” Nami mutters next to you, nudging your arm with her elbow. It’s a light touch but it feels like the world tilts sharply and you pray she can’t see the panic in your eyes when you try to remain upright. Despite her best efforts to remain mature and indifferent, her eyes were sparkling with self-assurance that you only saw from her when she felt a mission went well. She carries the folder of coveted Marine intelligence under one arm, her other hand holds up a bag of goodies you’d snatched from the base that would make good money down the line. “Plus, it gives us some time to take our share of this stuff. Nice finds, by the way. I’m impressed.” 
“Thanks. I learned from the best,” you reply, relief flooding you when she turns back to watch her idiot crewmates and not further inspect the limp in your step. Zoro’s eyes meet yours over his shoulder and you give him a strained smile, well aware that you probably looked like you’d crawled out of hell. When he turns away again, you exhale with great difficulty, fighting off another wave of nausea that threatens to send you stumbling into the water. It’s just a flesh wound, you figure. No need to halt their celebration just because you got a silly cut. “What’s your first pick out of the bag?”
“There’s a pretty little jeweled chalice I was looking at,” she says casually. The waning afternoon sun makes her hair look like a fire, bright and warm. “We could scrape off the rubies and pawn them at the next island.”
“Or, you could drink water from it and look like a pompous asshole.” Just keep it casual. Be normal. The pulse in your ears becomes slightly faster when you notice the foggy spots in your vision. “Freeze some of the diamonds from that candlestick and use them as ice cubes.”
“Very true,” she laughs and you force out a chuckle to mirror her, wincing at the aching pain in your side. Her eyebrows furrow and her mouth falls into a frown. Your attempts to seem fine were starting to fall through. “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been walking a little slower than usual.” 
“I’m fine, I promise. I just got punched in the gut a little harder than I anticipated,” you lie straight through your teeth, well aware that it wasn’t just a fist that had you losing enough blood to fill the galley sink. To be fair, the guy’s second blade appeared out of nowhere. You were outnumbered five to one but still held your own; only when there was a single fighter left did he resort to cutthroat tricks. One minute, you’re parrying with ease; the next, a small dagger pops out from the fighter’s left sleeve, cutting a deep wound into your side before you can block it with the saber in your right hand. It was a dirty move and you mentally kicked yourself for not anticipating foul play much sooner. To make matters worse, you were only able to staunch the blood so much before Zoro found you in the courtyard. Though you sufficiently covered your injury, he was still eyeing you like he knew that something was off. Like clockwork, every minute he was checking on you. It was wordless, but you still knew he was inspecting you, waiting for you to reveal that something happened and that you needed help.
That moment came the instant your boots met the wood of the deck. 
In seconds, your vision violently careens to the right and you’re conscious just enough to expect the thud of your head against the floor. But, the crash never comes. When you fall, your mind registers another body that you fall into, strong and stable. One arm slips effortlessly under your exhausted legs, lifting you from the ground while the other supports your upper back. Your eyes blur the image of your panicked crew like an oil painting, smearing it every which way until the colors are bleeding together more uncontrollably than the blood dripping from your side. Everything sounds like you’re drowning, rising above the water for a moment only to be pulled back down into murky disorientation. 
“Idiot,” a low voice says. It’s wrought with worry, even though you can tell they’re trying not to hide it. It’s clear enough that you know it’s coming from whoever is holding you. “Why the hell did you wait?” You’re barely able to distinguish far-off shouting from Sanji, ordering Luffy and Usopp to grab his knives. But, if all three of them were over there and Nami was throwing open cabinets looking for the med kit, that means the person holding you was… “Fuck. I knew something was wrong.” You have half the mind to articulate a weak response, but it comes out as nothing more than a groan when you’re placed onto what feels like the galley counter. The pounding in your forehead starts to become airy, like when you’re walking down the sidewalk after a night of drinking until you were on the verge of passing out. Zoro doesn’t let you go, though. His calloused fingers gently brush the dirt from your face, quietly pleading for you to stay with me, stay with me, stay with me. “You’re okay. We’re okay. Just stay with me.” 
“They’re losing a lot of blood and I can’t find the damn med kit.” 
“Where’s everyone else?”
“Above deck, having a collective panic attack.” Nami’s voice sounds like it’s coming from miles away. 
“Figures.” Zoro’s, on the other hand, is the only thing keeping you rooted and stopping you from drifting off. It’s sharp and strained, nothing like you’d ever heard from him before. Sanji’s lanky steps enter the kitchen and you hear the zip of his knife bag somewhere close to your ear.
“This is bad; I need to stop that bleeding or they might–” Zoro’s grip on your hand is tight, physically holding you down to reality. Whether you laced your fingers in his or the other way around, you didn’t remember.
“Well, let’s fucking do something about it then, waiter,” is the last thing you hear before darkness wipes your vision. 
Your eyes blink open after what feels like seconds, but the starry sky outside the window tells you it had been hours. It takes a moment for the details to come back to you, as does the soreness where they must have patched up your wound. The hard stone of the counter has been replaced by your bed and the comforting sway of the ship tells you Luffy ordered the ship to depart. It’s healing, in a way, the rocking back and forth motion of the ship that reminds you how close you were to slipping away. After a minute, you muster up enough energy to look at the rest of your room and you can’t help smiling when you see Zoro sitting at your bedside, tensely sleeping with the Wado Ichimonji laid across his lap. His eyes fly open when you whisper his name, delicately setting his blade on the floor before crouching at your side. 
“You’re okay,” he breathes and it sounds more like a reassurance for himself than for you.
“I’m okay,” you confirm just as softly, threading your fingers between his and squeezing lightly. He squeezes back, looking at you like you painted the constellations outside your window. “How long have you been here?”
“Since Sanji and Nami fixed you up, about six hours ago.”
“You’ve been sitting there for six hours?”
“I would have sat longer. I’d wait for you, no matter how long you slept,” he says and it sounds like a vow. “You scared the shit out of me, you know that?”
“Sorry,” you apologize weakly, giving him as much of a shy smile as you could. He rolls his eyes in exasperation but can’t help the corner of his mouth quirking too. “I didn’t want to bother you all while you were celebrating.”
“You really think I’m going to give alcohol priority over you?”
“Depends on the alcohol,” you point out and he shakes his head at your teasing. Your hand fits in his like a puzzle piece and you’re struck by the overwhelming feeling of safety you have whenever Zoro’s around. “But, really. I’m sorry for worrying you.” 
His eyes darted to the side like you’d said something that embarrassed him. The only thing he could think to do in that moment was bring your hand to his lips and press the lightest kiss to it. A promise that he’d always take care of you. He never was the best with words, you realized in your friendship-borderline-relationship with him. The things you said tended to short-circuit his brain and it was fascinating to watch him try and think of a coherent response. In times like these, however, when he’s simply unable to find the words for how much he feels for you, his actions are infinitely louder. 
“You should go back to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up. Do you need anything before you rest? Water or blankets or something?”
“No, just you. If you got in here with me, I wouldn’t mind,” you suggest nonchalantly and you giggle when his face becomes pinker. He obliges, though, slipping into the covers with you and carefully pulling you into him until you’re pressed against his chest like your own personal heater. His breathing is slow and steady, but you swear you can hear his heartbeat racing. “You’re the only one I’ll ever need, I think.”
“Feeling’s mutual, sweetheart. Just don’t do stupid shit like get stabbed again.”
Tumblr media
if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
2K notes · View notes
sc0tters · 7 months
Text
Faking It | Jack Hughes
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: when Jack learns that his girlfriend faked her response in bed the previous night, it can only ever land up with them back in bed as he gives her a time she couldn’t possibly fake.
request: yes/no
warnings: sexual themes, p in v (unprotected), oral (fem receiving), use of vibrator, bondage, ice play, swearing.
word count: 2.49k
authors note: surprised I got this one out today if I’m being honest. @hischierhaze said I can blame her for my lack of a filter for this and @sweetestdesire just told me to tag her. This is what happens when I am left unattended to do things… with that being said I hope you enjoy what came from this prompt!
Tumblr media
The sound of your headboard hitting the wall rang through your ears.
Jack held your legs around his waist “right there baby.” Jack grunted dropping his head so that his lips could kiss at your collar bone.
Even with his lips sucking at the sweet spot of your skin you couldn’t seem to get his cock to hit the spot that you needed him in “fuck Jack.” Your cry was more so out of discomfort as a cramp formed in your thigh officially meaning that you had lost any chance of having a good night with your boyfriend.
The hockey player had come home after a long road trip and he wanted nothing more than you and your bed. But all you wanted to do was sleep after a long day at work “you want to be a good girl and come for me?” Jack asked as you clenched your pussy around his cock.
You knew that he was close by how his cock throbbed from inside of you and you knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle it if you didn’t come tonight “shit yeah.” You forced your breath to go airy as your hands reached up to tease your nipples in the hopes that it would help build some pressure in your stomach.
As Jacks grunts began to grow stuttered you decided that then was your chance to act like you came “oh my god Jack,” you huffed your chest making it sound like you had just ran a marathon.
Jack rode out his orgasm before he flopped onto the bed next to you “you were so good baby.” You couldn’t even remain upset for long as the hockey player hooked his fingers under your jaw so he could pull you into a kiss.
After last nights disappointments you invited some friends over to full up your time before Jack was meant to come up from practice “you okay girl?” Mia asked as she sat next to you sensing your silence “can I tell you girls something?” You sighed watching them all nod.
Jack walked back into the apartment deciding that he wanted to be quiet so that he could hear whatever gossip it was that you were talking about “we had sex last night.” Your voice made him stop dead in your tracks “and he thinks I came but I didn’t.” That confession made his eyes go wide.
It wasn’t that he was sad you told your friends, he was sad that you felt the need to fake it and not address it. Because if Jack knew that you had done that you wouldn’t be sat there today “hey baby!” Jack pretended to shut the door once more again but louder this time before he made his way into the living room.
Your eyes were wide as you looked at your boyfriend “how was practice?” You asked trying to ignore the embarrass looks your friends were sending the Hughes boy “it was good, gonna go have a shower now.” He smiled pressing a kiss on your forehead.
Instead Jack actually walked into your bedroom and began deciding his plot of how to make you pay for faking your orgasm whilst he also tried to give you a night of pleasure to make up for what you missed.
Jack was given plenty of time as you ended up back in your room 90 minutes later once your friends had left “how are they all?” Jack asked sending you a smile as you crawled into his lap “don’t care about them right now.” You mumbled running your fingers along his jaw.
The hockey player smirked “want to be a good girl for me?” He cocked his head pecking your lips.
You nodded “always,” and just like that you had fallen into his plan.
Before you knew it your clothes were all off as you were laying on your bed fully naked whilst Jack was only in some sweatpants “you trust me?” The hockey player grabbed his belt as he held your hands together before he tied them to the headboard making sure that the belt was done tight enough you looked at him with a smile.
That wasn’t going to work for him causing the boy to grab his tie “relax baby,” he encouraged you as Jack held it up to your eyes “I’ll be back in a sec,” was the last thing he said after tying it behind your head.
It all felt foreign to you as Jacks tie blocked out the light from your eyes leaving you in darkness “J-jack?” You called out hearing his footsteps retreat “I’m here baby don’t worry.” He cooed coming back to your bed letting the mattress dip as his knees pressed into it.
You grew wet with anticipation as you waited for him to touch you “remember the safe word is red.” Jack mumbled pressing a kiss to your lips before a buzzing noise between your thighs pulled your attention away from his lips.
That feeling was familiar from anywhere, the vibrating was shared between your clit and your pussy making you realise that it was your red rabbit vibrator. It was a purchase you got when Jack was on a roadtrip and when he came home he caught you laying on your bed in some pretty robe for him but when you got impatient you leaned on your new friend to help you out. Rather than get upset Jack spent that evening learning how to further improve your experience in bed with the help of the red device “shit Jack!” You gasped realising that your boyfriend had gone for the highest speed setting straight off the bat.
Your hips jerked against the device as you felt your high quickly approaching “don’t stop,” you begged desperately tugging at the belt that had your hands up by your headboard “not yet baby.” Jack clicked his tongue turning the speed of the vibrator all the way down to its lowest setting.
It caused you to whimper “don’t be a brat about it.” He warned using his free hand to softly hit your clit “you want to embarrass me like that in front of all your friends?” Jack’s harsh words made your jaw go slack “and think that you won’t get punished for it?” He let out a laugh as he shook his head.
Jack let the speed slowly increase again as it looked like you had fallen enough away from your high “let’s see if you take this one like a good girl this time?” The hockey player increased the speed up one button more as he grabbed an ice cube from the cup next to him.
Your body ached as your toes curled “y-you know?” Your voice trembled, quickly you felt bad at the thought out your boyfriend knowing what you had done “had to hear you telling all of those fucking friends of yours too.” You didn’t have time to think about how his voice sounded mumbled as the boys lips dropped down to your breast “shit!” You groaned almost jumping out of this constraints you jumped so hard.
The cold ice cube served as the perfect contrast to your hot skin “fuck Jackie!” You cried at the sensory overload that you were feeling “breathe baby.” Jack ordered watching in awe as the water dripped from your stiff and sensitive peak.
You huffed trying to hold back a moan desperate for Jack to let you come “‘m so sorr-” you cut yourself off as he moved his attention to your other breast repeating his actions with what was left of the ice cube “think you should beg to come.” Jack had to admit that his cock pulsated in his sweatpants as it felt forgotten and unloved waiting for you to turn your focus to it “please Jack!” You cried trying to form a coherent sentence.
Your thighs shook as you couldn’t keep them planted on the mattress anymore “I’ll never fake an orgasm ever again.” You offered with your voice oozing in pleads “going to need more from you than that.” Jack shook his head again dropped the ice cube onto your stomach causing him to grunt out in pleasure as he watched it glide down your torso finally stopping just above your belly button.
It seemed like as the ice cube stopped so did your vibration causing your high that had built up to quick drop again “think you can go again?” Jack asked massaging the little 86 tattoo that you had on your hip “uh huh,” you whimpered feeling your vibrator slide out of your core.
Jacks weight shifted to the side of your bed before he went back to the centre, his arms wrapped around your thighs as if you could have tried to go anywhere else “shush baby.” Jack cooed as he pursed his lips around the cube of ice bringing his mouth down to your slit.
You cried out in pleasure feeling the cold cube pressed up against your clit as Jack ran the cube down your slit “p-p-please Jack.” You whined tensing up your whole body as he pushed the cube into your soaked cunt.
It made you moan as the ice began to melt in your warm core leaving Jack to suck at your clit “want to touch you,” you complained as tugged as the belt once more now fully aware that it was going to cause a bruise on your wrist’s tomorrow “not yet.” Jacks words could barely be heard as he didn’t pick his head up from your clit as his tongue swirled around the sensitive nub.
It didn’t help that you were still feeling those two previous attempts at orgasm that failed so now all you wanted as for this one to suck you into the bliss that would have been coming around his cock as you saw the stars “Jesus baby you’re soaked.” The hockey player smirked to himself knowing that this was all his work.
He went back to letting his tongue work on your clit as your body began to shiver, thighs driving towards him “all for you.” You stumbled over your words “all real too.” You added desperate to clench around something that wasn’t the quickly melting ice as that was how you liked to come.
Jacks cock stuffing you to the brim as his thumb played on your clit or with your nipples “you know the rules tonight.” He pulled away once more making you huff in annoyance.
The hockey player stared at your body sat there all innocently as he smiled seeing how frustrated you were “you had enough?” Jack asked leaning forward as he pushed the tie off of your head.
It took you a few seconds to adjust before you looked at him “just want you now.” You complained sending him a needy look that he couldn’t say no to.
Jack nodded undoing his belt before he rubbed your wrists “next time, I’m tying you up.” You mumbled cupping his face with your hands so that you could pull him into a kiss.
The boy almost fell onto your bed as you pulled him down “I wanna fuck you.” Jack confessed deciding that the pain in his cock was no longer worth it.
The hockey player smiled as you hooked your fingers in his waistband “no baby, I’m gonna work for you tonight.” Now this was the apology part of the plan.
He let his sweatpants drop to the floor as he kicked the ends off “been so good for me baby.” Jack cooed leaning down to kiss your lips.
Your eyes fluttered feeling his cock run against your clit “please don’t tease me.” You begged not believing that you could handle more of it “just making sure you were ready.” Jack joked not giving you enough time to snap back at him before he thrusted his throbbing cock in your wet cunt.
Jack didn’t even need the time to let you adjust before he hooked your legs over his shoulder “my flexible good girl.” He mumbled hovering his lips over yours as he established a good rhythm that would be aided by your sensitive core “god Jack.” You moaned feeling your breasts bounce with each thrust of his cock.
The sight was hot, no distance between the love drunk couple as the sound of your moans harmonised together “just me baby.” The hockey player grunted feeling your pussy clench around his cock “you want to come already?” His tone was teasing.
Your face grew red as you nodded “making me feel so full your toes curled as pleasure pulsated through your body.
Jack needed just a bit more from you “hold it,” he warned not wanting to ruin a hot night because you couldn’t listen.
His order made tears form in your eyes as he stared down at you, letting his hair down to tickle your face “Jack please,” you begged as the pressure between your thighs threatened to burst at any minute.
His grunts quickly joined a competition with your moans in an effort to drown the other out “keep squeezing my cock like that baby.” Jacks thoughts began to grown foggy as his orgasm approach too.
Your fingers slid between your two bodies “I can’t hold it anymore Jack.” You confessed letting those fingers attach your clit as they rubbed in a circular motion.
Jack let his head drop to your neck in a similar way that he did it the night before “come for me baby.” He ordered replacing your hand in your clit “come so the neighbours can hear who makes you feel like this.” The hockey player let his lips nip at the skin of your neck in order to control himself.
His hips snapped so fast if was like they might have snapped out of place “fucking shit Jack!” You cried out grinding your hips into his as you eyes screwed shut.
His orgasm came shortly after yours with how you came around his naked cock -something you two hadn’t done before- “holy shit baby.” Jack gasped final a final thrust into your cunt before he pulled his cock out “you squirted.” He pointed out looking at the wet patch on his lower torso.
Before you had the chance to grow embarrassed he smiled “that was the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen.” Jack confessed kissing your cheeks, a habit he had picked up whenever you blushed.
You smiled looking at him “think I should fake some more orgasms if we are gonna have sex like that afterwards.” You joked running your fingers through his hair “next time I’m not going to let you come.” Jack warned making you laugh.
The hockey player had to admit that these small moments after sex with you were some of his favourites “bath or shower?” He proposed knowing that you both desperately needed a clean “bath.”
1K notes · View notes
sturniolos-blog · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Interrupted Video - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot
warnings - fluff, cute, swearing, arguing
requested ‼️
disclaimer: third person POV. This takes place at the triplets house but just know Matt is only there with Estrella since Y/n is out of town.‼️‼️
Important: let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list, people who are on my taglist get added too the end of each of my fics!!
—————————
8:48pm
“Matt, stop walking around, you’re bumping into shit!” Nick yelled at his brother, headphones on his head playing music.
Chris let out a frustrated groan into the tape he had over his mouth, Matt mixing cake mix while getting some on the table.
“You aren’t talking to me, how the fuck am i supposed to do this!?” Matt yells, his hands being thrown up in the air.
Nick starts dancing to music playing on his headphones, Chris trying to get his attention as he does a spin.
“What!?” Nick yells as he sees Chris pointing at Matt. Nick looks and sees Matt spilt have of the batter on the table.
“Matt, what the fuck are you doing!?” Nick yells, Chris sighing and shaking his head.
Matt immediately drops the spoon and slams his hands down onto the table, him letting out an anxiety breath as his hands barely miss the batter he spilled.
Suddenly he feels a soft slap on the back of his thighs.
“What the fuck are you guys doing!?” Matt yells, already stressed out enough.
“Dada! Dada!” A small voice calls out, Matt recognizes the voice of his 1 year old daughter.
A smile gets brought to Matt’s face as he reaches around his head to take the blindfold off, setting it on the table before leaning down and picking Ella up.
“Hey, baby..” He whispers as her arms go around his neck.
Nick sighs and takes off his headphones before Chris takes off the tape on his mouth letting out a small ow.
Nick goes to turn off the camera, “Matt-” Chris starts but gets cut off by Matt.
“We can finish the video later, right? Excuse me, i need to put my daughter to bed.” Matt says, slight frustration still hinted in his voice.
Nick shrugs and Chris nods.
“Alright, sweet girl.” Matt whispers as he starts to walk towards his room that he still had at his brothers house, since Y/n was out of town he brought Ella with him to stay with him at his brothers.
Matt walks in the room, closing the door behind him.
He knew he’d have to get her tired first, Y/n was always good at this part but he’d have to manage.
He sits down on the bed with her, him up against the head board as Ella rests on his chest, her facing the tv.
“Shit..” He mutters to himself as he realized he forgot to grab a bottle.
As he goes to get up the door opens, revealing Chris and Nick, Nick was holding a warmed up bottle of milk as Chris was holding Ella’s dinosaur plushy.
Matt lets out a sigh of relief, sitting back down comfortably and smiling at his brothers as they walk over.
“Here, Ellie.” Chris says as Ella takes the dinosaur plush with him, Ella kicks her feet and lets out a laugh as she holds her Dinosaur plush up to show Matt.
“I see it, baby! How cool!” He laughs, kissing her forehead as she plays with it.
Nick then hands Matt the bottle of milk.
“Thank you guys..” He says, taking the bottle. Matt clears his throat, “Sorry that i got so frustrated, it’s just been hard with Y/n being gone for almost 2 weeks already.” Matt apologizes.
“You don’t have to apologize, we get it, bro.” Chris comforts.
“Yeah, you’re good, Matt. We can finish the video later.” Nick smiles.
Matt nods before his brothers leave the room, shutting the door behind them.
Ella then grabs the bottle from Matt, dropping her dinosaur plush on the bed so she can hold the bottle on her own.
Matt leans over to grab the remote to his tv off his nightstand, turning it on and clicking through kids channels.
“Whatcha wanna watch, sweetheart?” Matt says, holding her with one hand.
As expected Ella doesn’t say anything, continuing to drink her milk.
Matt shrugs, “Spongebob it is.” Before he puts the remote back on his nightstand.
—————————
9:03
After about 15 minutes, Estrella gave her bottle to Matt before turning around in his grip and resting her head into the crook of his neck, starting to close her eyes and fall asleep.
As about 5 more minutes pass Matt hears soft snores coming from Ella, that’s his cue to go put her in the small crib that he put in this room, knowing that Estrella and him would probably spend the night there.
As Matt goes to put her in, Ella jumps up from her sleep, she lets out a whine, not letting go of Matt as she almost starts to cry.
“Ella, come on, baby.” Matt says, but she lets out one cry, Matt knowing that if she started she wouldn’t stop.
Matt sighs, picking her back up fully and bringing her back to his bed. “Okay, one night, don’t tell mommy.” He says, climbing in bed with her and laying her down, putting pillows on the other side of her as he lays down on his side.
Ella lets out a huff before rolling over onto her belly, sticking her tongue in her mouth.
Matts hand goes to her back, watching as his daughter falls asleep.
He rubs her back at a slow soothing pace. Her letting out quiet hums of content.
Matt eventually fell asleep too, let’s just say that video did not get done tonight.
—————————
alrighttt i am done i hope you guys liked this one i thought it was cute and fluffy and giving matt daddy vibes (literally) hope you liked it!
taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo
646 notes · View notes
tootiecakes234 · 3 months
Text
Katsuki’s POV:
I fucking hate myself. I was never supposed to become this type of sick idiot.
But here I am, across the room staring at her because she’s laughing, and it’s one of those full body laughs. She’s not trying to cover her face or stifle it at all. Sometimes she gets self conscious about her laugh being too weird or too loud but she couldn’t give two fucks about that right now and I physically cant tear my eyes away from her.
I’m aware that Eijirou is talking to me, but I’m not hearing anything he’s saying. It’s not until Denki’s face pops up in my line of vision that I finally snap out of what ever fucking trance the temptress had put on me.
“Baku-bro you should really close your mouth before something flies in it.” Denki says with a goofy grin on his face.
“Yea well, you should close your mouth before I shove my fist in it dumbass.”
“Hey, leave him alone. He’s in love.” And Eiji bumps his shoulder up against me. “It’s super manly.”
“Do you idiots ever shut up and mind your business?” I shout because I hate being called out about her. I swear I’m trying my best to not follow her around like a lost puppy but all that does is have me tracking her around with me eyes like a goddamn stalker.
“Dude, no one is saying it’s a bad thing. She’s super hot. Sometimes you can’t help but stare at her.” Denki says with a smirk on his face. He’s goading me. “ but you know what’s better than staring… touching. I might just run over and give her a big old hu- woah dude. I’m kidding calm down.”
My hands grabbing the front of his shirt and I can feel the sparks about to start flying from my hand. Then I feel a soft hand on my forearm and the effect she has on me is immediate.
I cut my eyes over and catch her smiling at me and just like that the sparks stop because I’ll be damned if I ever do anything that might end up hurting her.
“Kats… what have we said about hurting our friends….. they may be stupid but that doesn’t give us a right to kick their asses right???” She’s speaking slowly like she’s trying to talk down a jumper.
“Yea Kats. Don’t beat up your friends.” Denki’s smug voice caused my hand with his shirt to clench a little tighter.
“Denki dude. You’ve gotta cut it out before he murders you.” Eiji says that like he’s trying to help but the asshole is also snickering.
Then the hand on my forearm slides up my arm, across my chest and ends up wrapping around my neck and that’s it. She’s got me.
“Come on bub. I’m hungry, let’s go get food. Leave the evil men to cause chaos amongst themselves.” Then she’s pulling me away and all I can do is follow.
I turn my head quick tho and shout, “watch your back dunts face. I still owe you an ass whoopin!”
“Yea yea lover boy.” And his friends chuckle behind him.
And that’s what i am now isn’t it? It’s what she’s turned me into. A man so deep in fucking love that all she had to do was say the word and I’d fall to my fucking knees for her.
This shit is so embarrassing🙄
Katsuki Masterlist
Tag List: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @i-literally-cant-with-this @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @quirklestrash @lotionlamp @facinated-lemon @bakugouswaif @mintsbubbletea @anon-mouse223 @darkstarlight82
If you want to be added to taglist let me know🤭
1K notes · View notes
vxiphoid · 10 months
Text
SERENE SHENANIGANS
❨ summary ❩ twst › waking them up to tell them stories that don’t make sense
tags ✧ fluff, crack, savanaclaw boys, defo not proofread its like 7 am, cursing but nothing out of the ordinary, ooc(?), ruggie calls you a little shit like once (affectionate), jack is whipped for you
amanuensis’ message ⊹ I LITERALLY LOVE DOING THIS??? my friends hate me for it. but anyways hiii im back after like my month hiatus, how are thy sleeplings?😋 mb guys writers block has been really kicking my ass, i was spitting blanks on paper… i’m gonna hopefully post another pastry emporium soon for scarabia so stay tuned for that‼️
⌜ 300+ e/chara ⌟
♫ sunset boulevard - hohyun
twst masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
— “leona… pspsps….”
— he hums gruffly when his name was called the first time, only opening his eye thinking you called him a second time when it was really just noise that you would make to get the attention of a house cat. he instantly pins his ears back. how dare you. “hmm?”
— “so i took our snail for a walk and i had accidentally left my feet here to wash the dishes because the grass was blue.”
— huh? you could see him trying to process everything you just said as you explained, his lips parting and eyebrows furrowing. it took everything in you not to laugh. he does one of those blinks, the really delayed ones, one eye opens before the other…
— he’s half asleep too so the confusion is just adding up altogether. if chicken scratch wasn’t a writing term, this is literally it in words. its like the books back at home he picks up to read (derogatory) its, what, 4 am? dont do this to him😭
— you’ve never seen him so expressive💀 this definitely makes his eye and ear twitch at the same time. what type of fucked up fever dream is this?? its usually a blessing seeing you as the first thing he wakes up to, not when you wake him up with some bull strung up in a sentence with your beady eyes staring at him while he sleeps. he loves you, yes, but what does he even say to this…
— “what…”
— your forehead met with his chest as you struggled not to laugh at the uncharacteristic break in leona’s voice. how many cups of coffee did you drink? he asks you to repeat yourself even though it kinda a mind mush decision so you did and by the end of it, he looks absolutely restless.
— “that’s… yes. that’s great, herbivore. can we go to bed now?”
— you note that leona is surprisingly patient when half asleep
┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢
JACK HOWL
— deep sleeper. tug his ear. though he practically springs up before your hand makes contact, giving himself whiplash.
— “jack?”
— almost instantly relaxes when he realizes its you, tail wagging subtly☹️ “hi, baby. s’something wrong?”
— “hiii, do you remember a year ahead ago when i had to go to the dentist to get my spine fixed and the cats were barking at the flying dogs because the sky was in the water?”
— bro feels like he just had a stroke💀 he’s blinking rapidly, rubbing nose bridge as you explain. he really wants to understand, he does, but wtf did you just say??? it was the innocent “hi” before you unapologetically bashed his head in with the entire dictionary. its so ridiculous he couldn’t help but laugh.
— “jack, this is serious.” even as you told him that, your voice was not steady at all which made his shoulders shake violently in silent laughter.
— “im listening, i swear. tell me one more time?” yk his ass is not listening. he pulls you into his lap while his thumbs idly rubbed your sides, responding to your stories with “uh-huh” and “yeah?” with a lovesick smile on his face.
— eventually holds your face and starts pressing heart squeezing, fluffy kisses all over your face which truly made you more tired then you were. you honestly start forgetting what and where the story was going.
— jack only pauses his kissing attack to respond when you take a small break but even then he doesn’t pull away fully, he’s just speaking against your skin
— “—and the duck had my arm while i was taking it on a walk because gran tammy was in a flying shopping cart.”
— “oh wow. and then?”
— he’s listening but he’s not, mostly because he’s like two seconds away from dreamland and his brain isn’t registering half the shit you’re saying. he wants to see how many stories you can jumble up.
— “yeah, i think it’s bedtime for us…”
┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢
RUGGIE BUCCHI
— omfg he wakes up like a mom. like yk how you would barely touch them and they would gasp like they were just given cpr?? he wakes up like that.
— and you’re just standing there awkwardly 👁️👁️
— takes a quick look around before looking at you. “what happened? is it time to wake up leona already?” you shake your head and ruggie flops back, an arm draped over his eyes. “you scared me… come, lay down with me?” he held his free arm out for you and you did take your place cozied up against his side. to your surprise, you did actually scare the living shit out of him from how fast his heart was racing.
— “ruggie, yk i just found out you’re related to turtles, right? and i had to take uncle bobby to the vet to get a dna test because the fish drowned in air.”
— slow roblox turn towards you but instead its his head as he cranes it down to stare at you. you can practically hear the gears in his head turning and you literally could not look at him or you’d blow your cover.🧍🏾
— “i’m sorry,, what the fuck??”
— he’s genuinely confused, asking you questions about your story while his brain tries to put together the pieces. each question he asks, the more its harder to speak in full sentences other than wheezes
— “what are you laughing at, ya little shit? explain this to me!”
— “i’m trying!”
— and you are😭 its like when you have to explain the family tree really slow bc you cant say, “my father’s girlfriend’s son” without him like ???? and you’re trying to explain it to him slowly, eventually forgetting what you said in the first place…
— “…and the fish drowned in air.”
— “yes.”
— “sweetheart, you still haven’t explained how i’m related to turtles—”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
Text
Sweet Tooth (NSFW)
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader
Warnings: smut, dirty talk, he absolutely is all over her, jokes about breeding and pregnancy, talk of oral (f receiving), Leon’s fingers go places, swearing probably.
Words: 530 (v short, I just wanted to get SOMETHING out for you guys)
A/N: So I saw these Eating HCs today for Leon from @ichigo-dream and I was obsessed. I didn’t have a whole lot of time as most of my writing power has been dedicated to 3 fics I am SO excited about; but yeah! A lil something!
Also my requests are open, it may just take some time for me to get to things! ❤️
Tumblr media
*gif not mine. Found on Tenor*
Days like these? These are the best kinds of days. Leon’s home, wrapped up in some kind of paperwork on the couch, but he’s home. I pull the tray of cupcakes out of the oven, dreading frosting them for this stupid party my cousin was hosting. Thankfully, I don’t have to stay at said party, but having to make 4 dozen cupcakes all within a few hours is frustrating to say the least.
“Ah no!” I yell as I turn to see Leon eyeballing one of the cupcakes. “Absolutely not!”
“Why? Just one?” He pleads, a slight pout on his gorgeous features and I roll my eyes.
“Sorry babe, but I am only making enough to send with Kim.” It may have been a bit mean to only make enough for what she needs, knowing about the agent’s overwhelming sweet tooth, but it honestly slipped my mind when I started them this morning. I turn to grab the piping bag when I hear a low whistle from Leon. “What’s up, agent?”
“I didn’t know you owned shorts like that.” When I finally look back over my shoulder, his blue eyes are locked on my ass, the bottoms of my cheeks spilling out of the bottom.
“They’re just at-home-shorts. Not like I wear them anywhere.” Do not tell him what your best friend dubbed these shorts. I begin piping green frosting onto the soft cake, but as soon as I lift the tool away, a hand slaps quickly over my ass and I gasp. Leon’s strong arms wrap around my waist, tugging me against what I can tell is a speedily rising erection.
“You gotta change outta those shorts, Princess, or they’ll be around your ankles by lunch.” His husky tone sends a chill down my spine as my back arches on it’s own accord, his hot breath tickling my ear.
“Don’t you have work to do?” I tease, trying to draw his attention elsewhere.
“I did. But then I smelt something sweet in here that I’m apparently not allowed to have.” Soft lips pepper kisses along the column of my throat before his teeth lightly sink into the flesh. “So I need to find another snack.”
“Leon, baby, I only have a couple more hours to finish these,” I argue, but it’s no use, his fingers sliding into the elastic band of the shorts and pushing them to the ground. Wrapped around my ankles.
“Well, maybe my girl should have thought about that before she went teasing me with these sexy little shorts.” He presses his hand down to cup my sex through my panties before he clearly has a realization. “Wait, are these the shorts your friend called the ‘get me pregnant’ shorts?” My cheeks heat up as two of his fingers rub teasing circles over my clit through my panties.
“It was a joke, babe,” I mutter, head dropping back to rest on his shoulder at the stimulation.
“Well, joke or not, now you have a choice.” Oh god, what is this little shit planning? “You can let me ‘get you pregnant’ or you can let me get my sugar fill by letting me eat this sweet little pussy.”
Fuck. Tough choices.
*****
Tags: (tag list is open)
Leon: @house-of-kolchek @bonnibuckets @athanasia-day @muffimtv
Everything: @chaosandbubbles @kassiekolchek22
1K notes · View notes
byooregard · 14 days
Text
x men tumblr dashboard simulator
Tumblr media
bluebabadee
THIS BLOG IS A SAFE SPACE FOR NON-HUMAN PASSING MUTANTS. HUMAN PASSING MUTANTS DNI
10 notes 📌Pinned Post
Tumblr media
sparklejays Follow
based on your likes!
every time I see a human talking about "how cool it would be to have superpowers" or some shit like that I loose it a little bit more. do these people realize that being a mutant isn't just fun powers. like even beyond the shit I deal with trying to get jobs or all the relationships that have been ruined once people realized I'm a mutant. abilities aren't just fun and games, I have a friend who can't touch people without nearly killing them, I burned down three buildings before someone finally taught me to control my abilities, and these people are all like "wouldn't it be great to fly to work every day??" just admit that you see us as comic book characters and not real people with real struggles
#actually mutant #jay .txt
276 notes
Tumblr media
scamperpamperblog reblogged spocktism
🏙️tilleys-brain Follow
self diagnosing is great and all but most of you people aren't telepaths, you're just hyperempathic
#actually mutant #actually telepathic #hyperempathy #crosstagging i know but some of yall need to see this #tilley speaks #it can be dangerous to go around acting like you know peopels actual thoughts when its just your brain
1,657 notes
Tumblr media
oh-you-pretty-things
.
#vent post #sometimes I get really mad at magneto #like I think he's done a lot for mutant rights and stuff #but I'm so fucking tired of everyone assuming that I'm evil just because of my powers #like jesus not all of us are trying to start atomic wars #some metallokinetics just use their abilities to make cool sculptures #but I can't get a spoon from across the room in front of strangers without someone mentioning jfk
3 notes
Tumblr media
mutantbuffy reblogged muntantpollscentral
🩻mutantpollscentral
*physical mutation meaning something that is ALWAYS physical, not just something you can turn off and on whenever
#ig my mutation IS technically physical its just not visible to people most of the time so i feel weird claiming that #but like i was born with the tattoo marks #the powers didnt come till later tho #so idk which to pick
668 notes
Tumblr media
sploimsh reblogged jesterjuleses
🎹pussy-truck-faggot
HEY! shout-out to people with *weird* mutations. Mutations that don't look cool, mutations that are gross, mutations that are dirty, mutations that you can't tell people about because they always cringe. You're just as valid as every other mutant out there. Your powers don't need to be palettable to humans for you to be treated with respect.
#THIS!!! #rb
5,678 notes
Tumblr media
rosetvler
god i am so tired of the hypocrisy in this community. the double standards are insane. its okay to have 'scary' powers but the moment someone's abilities are scarier than like, pyrokinesis you're evil and dangerous to be around. 'acceptance' for you people only means nice mutants who've never hurt or scared anyone ever.
rosetvler reblogged rosetvler
non-mutants can reblog this btw
#srb #actually mutant #getting real tired of this
18 notes
Tumblr media
katiedidnt reblogged morelikesexmen
🩻magicsteele27 Follow
okay like. i get that were all about acceptance and pride or w/e but no one in this tag has ever had friends irl i swear. if someone asks you not to read their mind you shouldnt. honestly you shouldnt be using telepathy on people at all without their permission. mutant abilities dont disclude you from respecting peoples boundaries
🌌rosetvler Mutuals
i swear to god you people are such hypocrites. its all 'mutant and proud' until someone has a power you dont like. its always about keeping the humans feeling comfortable instead of thinking about how it feels to never use your powers because theyre breaking 'boundaries' that were made up by humans in the first place
🩻magicsteele27 Follow
dude do you hear yourself right now
🎆jade-the-pyromancer Follow
Hey, I like your point op, but maybe you should stop trying to speak over actual telepaths and let them decide how to use their powers themselves???
🩻magicsteele27 Follow
i. i am a telepath.
#duddeeee telepaths are insane #used to be friends with one SO glad i broke that off before it went too bad
15,678 notes
Tumblr media
261 notes · View notes
killerpancakeburger · 21 days
Text
Breaking Point (1/2)
Tumblr media
SUMMARY: Civilian!Reader, who works as Price's assistant, has a breakdown at work. Soap+Ghost help the best they can. Hurt/comfort. Can be read as platonic or romantic. Gender Neutral Reader.
PAIRINGS: Ghost x GN!Reader
Soap's version.
TAGS: Hurt/comfort. Military inaccuracies (I make shit up for the sake of the plot). Ghost is... Ghost; taciturn, blunt, aloof, but Not An Asshole, protective, trustworthy, He's Trying ☆.
WARNINGS: Mention of relative in the hospital, suicide ideation, depressive thoughts, swearing. Ghost's part is significantly darker than Soap's (in terms of suicide ideation, not as in he's a yandere).
WORDS COUNT: 3.6k
A/N: Very self-indulgent, Reader is going through it and so am I. 🙃 Ghost role-plays (NOT SEXUAL) as the world's worst psychiatrist. Yours truly suggest to listen to "Strong For Somebody Else" by Citizen Soldier to set the mood. (Song includes suicide ideation and depressive thoughts too, so listen at your own risk).
Tumblr media
The news you’ve just been told cannot be real. Life could not possibly be that cruel. What did I do to deserve this? you wonder helplessly. It’s like every time you get back up, life knocks you down again, sending you tumbling on the cold, hard ground.
After ending the call, you put down your phone on your desk in a daze, hand shaking.
Clenching your fists, you stare into space, a thousand thoughts disorderly swirling inside your brain, all bursting with anguish, until a burning tear running down your cheek brings you back to the present. You’re at work, your boss is in the next room; a breakdown is a luxury you cannot afford right now. Better bite your tongue hard enough to draw blood than be caught sobbing. 
Inhaling a shaky breath, you take your head between your hands, shoving your fingers into your hair, trying to convince yourself to postpone your nervous collapse. Only one hour left, and you’ll be free to cry your eyes out at your flat. Or on the way home, even. It’s not like the other passengers ever paid you attention the other times you’ve cried on the bus.
But somehow your attempts have the opposite effect, and more tears roll down your face, staining the papers beneath it. As you furiously wipe your face with your sleeve, with a blend of frustration and despair, pissed at yourself, and wanting to get rid of the evidence of your fragile state as fast as possible, the unmistakable sound of your office’s door opening makes you look up.
The sight of the dark, bulky silhouette standing in the frame does nothing to appease your worries - quite the opposite. Of freaking course of all bloody people that could have walked in on you, it had to be fucking Ghost. The most intimidating - not to say terrifying - man on the whole base, but also the most cryptic. 
Towering over 190cm and built like few were, even on a military base, you had recoiled despite yourself the first time you met. Every single detail regarding him was redacted - you knew because you had checked his file, consumed by curiosity -, including his own face - unvaryingly covered by a black mask adorned with a white skull. That semblance of halloween mask and an alias was all that he shared with the world. 
He dispensed his words in dribs and drabs to a handful of privileged people, which seemed limited to your supervisor, Captain Price, who was also his direct superior, and his teammates of the Task Force 141. He couldn’t have offered you more than ten syllables in the six months you’ve been there. Yet, everyone knew who he was, what he was capable of, and crowds systematically parted with his passage like the Red Sea. 
You had wisely taken the resolution to not heed the rumors about him, which ranged from hardly believable to frankly ridiculous, but you couldn’t help the knot in your stomach every time he was nearby. It wasn’t only his imposing stature that put you on edge, but mainly the fact that he was always impassive. His mask effectively hid his emotions, sure, but his voice didn’t let anything show through either. Most of the time you had no idea what he was thinking or feeling, leaving you puzzled at how to interact with him. Not that there were that many interactions to begin with, but the few that happened left you with a lasting impression.
However you were pleased with yourself after you quit agonizing over his opinion of you, focusing instead on doing your best to treat him like the other soldiers. He may not be friendly, but he never had been disrespectful either.
You stare at him in horror, a deer in the headlights, unable to emit a sound. You didn’t even have the time to fabricate a bunch of excuses to get you out of this situation.
Shit, shit, shit. What do I do? WHAT DO I DO?
“Ya good?” 
His tone is gruff, as it always is, but not hostile. The question feels like a way out of this awkward situation, a lifebelt. You cling onto it like you're lost at sea.
Maybe you can still turn this around - pretend everything is OK. He will follow the implicit rules of politeness and leave you to it.
You hasten to reply.
“Yeah, yeah, it's fine. I'm fine.”
As you finish drying your face, he steps into the room, stopping in front of your desk.
“Did you need something?”
Your voice automatically switches to “customer service” mode, and you plaster a fake smile on your face. The mental image of a puppet, strings forcing the corner of its lips to lift, comes to your mind.
Ghost doesn't respond. His eyes are searching your face like it's an encrypted message that could provide a target's position.
Your smile vacillates under his scrutiny. The examination is cold, clinical; there's no warmth nor sympathy in those brown eyes.
“Doesn't look fine to me.”
He announces the statement like a fact, voice dull, neutral. He doesn't provide sympathy, but he doesn't cast judgment either. It’s not less irritating though.
Your first instinct is to snap at him, tell him to mind his own business, ask why he even cares. You resist it. Picking quarrels will only make matters worse. You grit your teeth and lie some more, trying to sound carefree.
“It's nothing, really. I'm just being a crybaby.”
Tumblr media
Crybaby.
Ghost turns the word over in his mind, unconvinced. He still recalls vividly the moment he stopped considering you like another faceless office worker amongst others and made an effort to remember your name.
He was mindlessly killing time in the break room with Gaz and Soap until you showed up at the door, a forced smile on your face, attempting to look casual but your body language betraying your nervousness. He spotted you first, the other two engaged in a lively conversation. Relief spread on your face when you saw he had noticed you, sparing you the trouble of having to call out for him, and you approached.
“Ghost, can I have a word? … in private?”
He straightened up from the wall he was leaning on and followed you wordlessly, feeling the prying stares of his teammates lingering on him. You stopped in the hallway to face him.
“You forgot to fill out the medical part in your last report.”
Fingers linked together, you were anxiously twiddling your thumbs. His eyes followed the movement unconsciously.
“I haven't.”
You frowned in uncomprehension. 
“Your medical file said-”
“I know what the medical file said,” he retorted firmly, hoping that you would understand his intention without him having to spell it out loud.
The furrow in your brows didn’t go away, quite the contrary.
“You want me to lie.”
The statement wasn’t an accusation, but a request for confirmation.
“You catch on quick.”
The sarcasm and patronization unintentionally slipped into his voice. You were just a newbie trying to do your job well, after all. However the others before you never took the trouble to confront him about this, either out of fright or negligence, and this felt like a waste of his time.
He watched you search his face for something, an explanation, a way out? You bit your lips, conflicted, before replying:
“No.”
“No?” he repeated, raising a skeptical eyebrow that you couldn’t see, crossing his arms. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. He wasn’t used to being turned down anymore, except for so few individuals, like Price or Laswell, that they could be counted on the fingers of one hand. That the first person to oppose him in so long wasn’t an uptight high ranking or a gutsy enemy, but you, an average civilian, was definitely a surprise. 
“I'm not taking that risk”, you added with a determination he didn’t expect.
“Ya wouldn’t be takin’ any. Nobody will be none the wiser.”
“That's not what I- urgh. I am not letting you go back injured on the field! I don't care if you're the ghost or whatever, you’re not invulnerable. So either you fill that damn file or I'm telling Price.”
“Oh? You'd snitch on me?”
“I'd do it to save your life, yeah.”
And with that, you shoved the papers in his chest, turned around and walked away. You had barely disappeared around the corner that he was already mentally calling himself a bloody idiot. Why had it been so tempting to provoke you? Because out of nowhere your usually bashful self showed audacity? Because you were absurdly hellbent on defending his expandable life? No matter the reason, he started to look at you differently from that day on.
Clearly you and him had a different definition of “crybaby”.
Tumblr media
He deposits the stack of files he had been holding on your bureau, but as you reach to seize them, he covers your hand with his own and leans in.
You would have stared in disbelief at his gloved hand over yours if the proximity of his face wasn’t a much more pressing matter. You can feel your face warm up and you loathe it.
“Those'll still be there tomorrow, love.”
You blink in surprise at the pet name. It's like you're a spooked horse and he's trying to soothe you with sweet nothings.
“But the paperwork-”
“Fuck the paperwork.”
Easy for him to say.
“But Price-”
“I'll deal with Price.”
“My mom's in the hospital”, you brutally admit, having run out of pretext.
You look each other in the eye for what seems forever. 
“Ye take yer coffee with three sugars, yeah?”
“Uh, yeah?”
You reply hesitantly, stunned by the ask that, a priori, has nothing to do with your wholehearted confession. How did he even know that? The words have barely left your lips that he already disappeared into the corridor. You stare in disbelief at the door, mouth agape. You poured your fucking heart out and that socially inept bastard in his goofy ass halloween costume just ditched you after wringing the truth out of you like you were an interrogated enemy soldier.
Tumblr media
Sipping the content of your mug with the Ghost's unblinking stare fixated on you is an unsettling experience, to say the least. Seated on the chair facing your desk, legs wide open, wearing a black hooded sweatshirt and gray pants, one hand holding his mug of tea, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since he sat down. 
Does he seriously not realize how unnerving his starring is?
He exudes an aura of tranquil power; the unchallenged authority of someone who is used to being obeyed without question, combined with the nonchalance that comes with being unmatched. Even casually sprawled like this, he remains formidable.
A few minutes ago, he set down a steaming mug in front of you and a box of tissues - a delicate attention that sent a pang in your chest -, before taking a seat. The fingers of his free hand are softly taping his knee.
“Guess I won’t need to kill anyone tonight,” he declares in a detached manner.
You blink in incomprehension at that.
“But you don’t have a mission tonight…”
“Won’t have to kill anyone for makin’ ya cry,” he clarifies.
“Oh.”
What else can you possibly reply to that? The murder machine lounging in front of you has enough confirmed kills to make a sniper of legend green with envy.
“So…”, you initiate, not without uncertainty, “is this the moment where I get everything off my chest?”
“Do whatever ya want.” he placidly counters, shrugging.
It really, considerably, sounds like he doesn't care at all; but if he did, he wouldn’t be here.
You take a deep breath, staring at your desk.
“She's in the ICU. Paralyzed, intubated, put in a coma.”
Tears flood your eyes again. This time you don't try to fight them.
“I'm terrified for her. But, what's worse is…”
You swallow your saliva; blink in rapid succession - the tears sting.
“I can’t help but think the worst. About what'll become of me without her.”
Water overflows your eyes. The dam ruptures abruptly. Raw honesty spills from your lips.
“She’s all I have. Without her, I have nothing. I am nothing.”
The ensuing silence is deafening. You wonder what the hell you’re doing. There’s something about the man in front of you that, paradoxically, makes you want to confide in him. Despite his lack of warmth, he feels steady, reliable. A rock to lean on when your whole world is crumbling. Solid ground when it feels like everything is caving in around you. Like you could lay all your burdens on him and he wouldn’t even flinch under what feels like the weight of the world.
You feel awfully selfish to entertain that thought, but you doubt he'd ever give you the opportunity to return the favor. 
“Bollocks.”
His tone is surlier than before. You look up at him to be sure you heard correctly.
“What about yer job? Ye enjoy it, right?”
You scoff bitterly at that.
“It's just a temporary gig. I'll be kicked out in two months.”
“We can make it permanent.”
You shoot him an incredulous look.
“You're just saying that.”
“‘M not. Wouldn't lie just to make ye feel better. Not my style.”
A cynical chuckle escapes you before a mischievous smirk stretches your lips.
“I’m sorry big guy, when did you get nominated as the commander of the base? Cause as far as I know this is outside your jurisdiction.” 
A similar smile spreads behind his mask. He’d take your sass over your tears any day.
“I have my ways,” he replies tranquilly.
From anyone else, you’d call it bragging or bluffing. Coming from the Ghost, it doesn’t sound as anything but the truth. He stares at you intensely, as if daring you to doubt him again, or intent on proving you his integrity through gaze alone. 
You look away, your cheeks heating up.
Ghost never minded that you can’t maintain eye contact. Just like he’s not into small talk, or physical contact. He knows most people tend to take it the wrong way, interpret it as contempt, when it couldn't be further from the truth.
“Thank you, but I can’t.” 
“Why not?” 
“I’d feel like I’m manipulating you.” 
He chuckles darkly, sending a shiver crawling down your spine, one you do not know if it was born of fear entirely or attraction. 
“Oh sweetheart, you couldn’t even if you tried.” 
Another tingle. Definitely pleasant this time. You desperately busy yourself with the content of your mug, the effects of that sentence on you too intense for the solemnity of the situation. 
Your strategy proves itself fruitful until a movement at the periphery of your vision attracts your gaze. You peek without thinking, and freeze at the sight of Ghost lifting his mask above his nose to drink from his cup. One scar crosses his mouth, another departs from the corner of his lips, both ancient but deep. They don’t faze you though - truth be told, the omnipresent mask made you expect him to look like a world war one veteran, so heavily disfigured that you wouldn’t be able to bear it. 
“Enjoyin’ the view?”
He doesn’t sound even remotely annoyed, but you lower your eyes in shame all the same.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
“If I didn’t wantcha to look, I wouldn’t have taken it off.”
As you need a moment to take in the implications of that sentence, he talks again.
“What's your poison?”
“Pardon?” you reply, genuinely lost.
He snorts at your exaggerated politeness.
“Coffee isn’t gonna cut it. Whataya usually take when you feel like this? Alcohol? Cigs?”
A pause.
“Sex?”
You choke and set down your mug out of fear of dropping it.
“No, no… and no.”
“Nothing?”
He sounds doubtful.
“I… cry myself to sleep?”
It makes no sense to formulate it like a question, but everything about this is surreal.
He hums, contemplative.
“You’re not making this easy.”
“What?”
“Helpin’ ya.”
You scoff, suddenly irritated.
“You could lend me one of your guns and let me blow my brains off with it. That would help.”
 “Not gonna happen,” he counters with emphatic authority that leaves no place for rebuttal. 
“Worth a shot,” you say, trying to get the last word. “Ha, shot. Get it?”
“Very funny.”
You roll your eyes at his comment, like he’s a tired parent indulging you, a tireless child.
“You just don’t have any humor.”
The words left your lips before you could consider their impact. Yes, you never heard the Ghost laugh, but maybe he has a very good reason for that. Maybe several. Maybe you’re just a fucking asshole.
“Why are colds bad criminals?” 
Your head pivots towards him so fast you fear your neck is going to snap.
“Why…?”
“Because they’re easy to catch.”
You stare at him in bewildered silence, not quite believing what just happened, before starting to laugh, first softly, then, carried away, louder and louder, bordering on hysterical. You don’t even giggle because of the joke, but because the contrast between the silliness of it and how deadpan Ghost was when enunciating it is simply too good. That, and the nerves are probably getting the better of you.
“Never had anyone laugh that much at this one before.”
You attempt to get your breath back, alternating between pants and laughs, wiping a solitary tear at the corner of your eye.
“It’s just… you… I didn’t see it coming, jeez.”
Sighing wistfully, you take in the quietude of this fleeting moment.
“This is nice.”
“I'm always nice,” grunts the lieutenant. 
You let out a good-natured scoff, then reality catches up to you.
“SHIT! What time is it!?” you shout in panic as you violently get up. “Maybe I can still catch a bus-”
You log out of your work session, turn off your PC and shove all your belongings inside your bag in record time. Ghost barely bats an eye, still like a languid cat; a very big, very dangerous cat.
“You can spend the night.”
“No I can’t!”
You push your chair under your desk and pick up your coat.
“We can make some sorry bloke sleep outside.”
“Noooo- That's horrible!”
You have no idea if he’s messing with you or not.
“Not worse than what's waiting for ‘em on the field.”
“Well, I still can’t do that.”
“Good for you that I can, then.”
You finally look at him, an half-amused smile on your lips, raising a skeptical eyebrow. 
“Lemme guess. This is you ‘having your ways’ again, isn’t it?”
His offer is tempting. You really don’t want to be left to your own devices tonight.
He stands up and takes a step towards you while pulling his mask down and, oh, with him sitting this all time, you would have almost forgotten how much he towers over you.
“S’that a yes or a no?”
You could almost detect a hint of playfulness in his voice.
“It’s a yes, sir,” you retort while pronouncing the “sir” with as much impertinence as you can muster.
“Better keep up, then.”
And just like that, he vacates the premises, and you do have to focus to keep up because those long legs of his ain’t just for show.
As you two travel across corridors unknown to you, you wonder once again what the hell you’re doing, hanging out with this mountain of a man who’s more myth than human, and breaking the rules of a military base on a whim. Lost in thought, you don’t pay attention to the voices edging closer, and you’re completely taken aback when Ghost grabs you by the back of your shirt and drags you in a dark alcove with him. You’re so astounded, you don’t even make a sound. He takes hold of the back of your head and presses you against him to occupy as little space as possible, effectively hiding you from the men walking by. Only then you recognize Captain Price among other officers.
“Sorry ‘bout that, love,” whispers the man you’re squeezed against, barely audible, imperturbable as ever, like this is an everyday situation for him.
You don’t answer - you can’t, anyway, essentially muffled by his pecs. You should be more irked by those circumstances, but the sudden proximity set your face ablaze, therefore you’re very happy with its current concealment. 
“Price will have my head if he thinks I made you cry.”
You’re about to protest, but then you remember that one time when Soap tagged along when you were carrying a huge box back from the archives, and when Price saw you two, Soap unconcerned with empty hands, and your face almost disappearing behind the imposing cardboard, he called the sergeant a bloody useless muppet and then proceeded to call into question his ability to transport his rucksack for days. Nevermind that you were the one who insisted on carrying the crate on your own as it provided a nice workout, and that you had to bare your teeth at Soap to prevent him from taking it from you.
When the peril has walked by and Ghost releases you, you silently thank the shadows around you hiding how affected you are by this ersatz of a hug. Later, he drops you off at an unoccupied bedroom, small but including a bathroom and furnished with everything you could ever want. You say your goodbyes and your thanks at the door, and he. pats. your head. You don’t even have time to be outraged that he states he will see you tomorrow, something that sounds like a promise as much as a threat, probably in reference to the morbid fantasies you shared, and he vanishes into the shadows like a… ghost.
Tumblr media
A/N : The real reason Ghost ran out:
He be googling “how to comfort female civilian age between 20 and **”
In the TF Group Chat (Price not included):
“We have an emergency.”
“Send as many kitten pics as possible to [Reader] … stat.”
270 notes · View notes
toruro · 5 months
Note
i just think….toxic ex bf!dino who starts hoeing out to make you jealous.. he fucks any random girl at any random party but only thinks of you, making sure his hickeys are visible enough for you to see them, posting pics with randoms on his socials 💭
nectar of the gods
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
tags: smut (18+), angst, toxic chan (duhh), pet names (baby), creampie
w/c: 1.4k
a/n: this concept is insanity actually anon i am in love with u (WINK WONK WINK WONK WINK WONK) ..,,, pls visit my inbox more often :3
Tumblr media
thinking about your toxic ex chan.
it's funny when you say that, because he was the one who said he wanted to end things on good terms; told you he wanted "none of that drama ... none of that petty shit." chan had said it so casually that you're now having a hard time trying to figure out if you're going crazy.
crazy, because just three nights after you two ended things, he was posting on his finsta (which, by the way, he demanded you stay on for the sake of keeping peace and not cutting ties) at some party you weren't invited to with some girl you didn't know dancing—no, grinding—on the same man whose lap you were bouncing on just a week earlier.
crazy, because two days later you go to hang out with your group of friends and of course chan is there (because when isn't chan there?), and you swear you haven't seen him wear a shirt with a collar that low in ages and ... is that a hickey? you might go crazy.
crazy, because you aren't sure if he expects you to stare ..,, crazy, because you swear you see his lips curve upwards into a smug smirk when you turn your eyes away, bashfully heating up in the cheeks. "you good?" he asks casually, when you choke over your water a little when you decide to glance back at him and catch second and third splotchy, bruising mark under his collarbone.
crazy, because you aren't sure why your stomach bubbles up with some nasty feeling of ... anger? uncertainty? jealousy?
crazy, because how could you be jealous? you broke up with him—told him you've got too much going on in your life, and while chan was great and all, you don't really have the time for a boyfriend right now. so really, you have no right to be jealous, isn't that correct?
fuck, you've gone crazy.
it doesn't help that you try to avoid him. the next week, you don't sit next to him in the lecture you have together, and you don't think chan'll make a fuss about it. after all, it seems like he's moving on just fine, so you hardly consider the fact that he might be just a bit bothered by the fact that you choose to sit next to seungcheol instead.
you don't expect him to walk up to you afterwards with a frown etched deep into his lips as he scoffs, "already throwing yourself on my friends?" to which you'd like to respond with: "aren't you doing just the same?" ... 'cept you don't say that, because that would mean you're jealous, right? and you're not jealous ... no way!
so you just shake your head softly and say that you're sorry for causing a fuss. that you'll sit with him next time. that you'll start talking to seungcheol less. chan grins at you and nods his head, and as he turns away to head to his car, you catch the fading mark on his neck from a few nights before, and wonder if you should say something.
you don't, of course.
that night you go home, and you're scrolling on your insta and then there's that bright ring around the chan's finsta and so curiosity undoubtedly kills the cat. maybe you tear up a little at the sight of a an obviously faded chan who's got his cheek pressed up against another girl's, both of them grinning as people party in the background.
and so you call him, and he's sweet at first. asks you, "hey what's up ... hey are you crying?" to which you respond with more sniffles. and you wanna hang up, you wanna hang up so bad, but then you think that if you cut the call he's just gonna go off and talk to that girl—or worse, he'll fuck her—and you're totally not jealous but you also totally can't let that happen.
and so you cry a bit harder—you replay the image of those stupid, big fat hickeys on his neck—and you let your tummy churn while you wallow in your own self pity.
"what's wrong baby?" chan asks you from the other side, and in the background you faintly hear the blaring techno and you briefly consider telling him you miss him, which is odd because you don't miss him ... do you? you just don't want him to go off with what's-her-face ... right?
and so you're silent, tryin' to figure out what you should say but then you hear this voice and it's too high pitched, too bubbly, too girly to be chan's, and suddenly your heart sinks right down to your stomach.
"channie, c'mon! let's have some fun?" the voice of a girl calls in the background, and you're just about to open your mouth and say something when chan beats you to it.
"i gotta go," he tells you in a rush and oh the sound of the line being cut will be you're undoing, because now the image of chan fucking this random ass girl burns into your skull and for some reason, you can't seem to shave it down.
and so you drown yourself in your tears, pressing yourself into the cushions of your couch and your sobs rack through your empty living room while chan is probably in some strangers room fucking the living daylights out of a cunt that isn't yours.
you think you might just fall asleep like this—alone in this dimly lit room with nothing but your tears dropping onto your lap; and so when you hear chan's voice you think this might be a dream, but then you look up and suddenly you see him.
he stands in front of you in all his glory, face flushed and faux blonde hair brushes just over his eyes as he walks closer to where you sit on your couch. chan shushes you when you ask him why he's still got your keys—tells you that isn't important right now—and he cups your cheeks and wipes your tears, asks you why you're crying, why there are tears in your eyes when "channie's right here ... channie's not gonna leave you ..."
and then he's kneeling in front of you, askin' you again why you're crying and so you cry even harder ... his hands are all over you, stroking your cheeks and then rubbing your shoulders, then one hand's on your hip and kneading the soft flesh and you think he's just trying to comfort you and so you cry even harder because you wonder whether he had his hands on that girl just moments earlier.
but then he's whispering in your ear, tellin' you he's gonna "make you feel better ..." but only if you'll let him.
his hands feel so nice all over you, rubbing up and down your thighs and—fuck, when did he slip his fingers between your legs? not that you care anyways, because even with your mind deluded with tears, you find the want to slowly hump your hips into his touch until he's slipping his hand down your pant, asking you if this is you letting him "make you feel good."
of course, you whine through your tears, nodding dumbly when he slips his rough fingers into your soaked cunt, murmuring into your neck 'bout how "channie's always gonna be here to make you feel better ... channie's never gonna leave ..."
he fingers you for a bit, and then he fucks you into the couch. it's hot and sloppy and heavy and messy, and it has you crying and panting—hands all over each other because you can't get enough of him.
your lips run all over his neck, his chest, collarbone—all of it, because you are in no way jealous, you just enjoy marking your territory. and chan fucks you so deep, groaning, "this pussy's made for me—just for me, you hear me?" and you are not a jealous person but you grin to yourself in this fucked out haze because chan is right.
you wrap your arms around his neck as he fucks you missionary, raking your nails into his back, tugging at the roots of his hair—doin' everything you fucking can to show chan that he might not be yours but he is yours, and you are his.
the thought that this might come and bite you in the ass crosses your mind briefly, but chan is quick to fuck your worries away, tellin' you "no one's gonna fuck you like this ..." and so you moan, and chan takes that as an agreement, so he fucks you harder until you're choking over your own sobs of pleasure.
"this pussy's mine, you got that baby?"
594 notes · View notes