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mcmansionhell · 3 months

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we've found it folks: mcmansion heaven

Hello everyone. It is my pleasure to bring you the greatest house I have ever seen. The house of a true visionary. A real ad-hocist. A genuine pioneer of fenestration. This house is in Alabama. It was built in 1980 and costs around $5 million. It is worth every penny. Perhaps more.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Come on, Kate, that's a little kooky, but certainly it's not McMansion Heaven. This is very much a house in the earthly realm. Purgatory. McMansion Purgatory." Well, let me now play Beatrice to your Dante, young Pilgrim. Welcome. Welcome, welcome, welcome.

It is rare to find a house that has everything. A house that wills itself into Postmodernism yet remains unable to let go of the kookiest moments of the prior zeitgeist, the Bruce Goffs and Earthships, the commune houses built from car windshields, the seventies moments of psychedelic hippie fracture. It is everything. It has everything. It is theme park, it is High Tech. It is Renaissance (in the San Antonio Riverwalk sense of the word.) It is medieval. It is maybe the greatest pastiche to sucker itself to the side of a mountain, perilously overlooking a large body of water. Look at it. Just look.

The inside is white. This makes it dreamlike, almost benevolent. It is bright because this is McMansion Heaven and Gray is for McMansion Hell. There is an overbearing sheen of 80s optimism. In this house, the credit default swap has not yet been invented, but could be.

It takes a lot for me to drop the cocaine word because I think it's a cheap joke. But there's something about this example that makes it plausible, not in a derogatory way, but in a liberatory one, a sensuous one. Someone created this house to have a particular experience, a particular feeling. It possesses an element of true fantasy, the thematic. Its rooms are not meant to be one cohesive composition, but rather a series of scenes, of vastly different spatial moments, compressed, expanded, bright, close.

And then there's this kitchen for some reason. Or so you think. Everything the interior design tries to hide, namely how unceasingly peculiar the house is, it is not entirely able to because the choices made here remain decadent, indulgent, albeit in a more familiar way.

Rare is it to discover an interior wherein one truly must wear sunglasses. The environment created in service to transparency has to somewhat prevent the elements from penetrating too deep while retaining their desirable qualities. I don't think an architect designed this house. An architect would have had access to specifically engineered products for this purpose. Whoever built this house had certain access to architectural catalogues but not those used in the highest end or most structurally complex projects. The customization here lies in the assemblage of materials and in doing so stretches them to the height of their imaginative capacity. To borrow from Charles Jencks, ad-hoc is a perfect description. It is an architecture of availability and of adventure.

A small interlude. We are outside. There is no rear exterior view of this house because it would be impossible to get one from the scrawny lawn that lies at its depths. This space is intended to serve the same purpose, which is to look upon the house itself as much as gaze from the house to the world beyond.

Living in a city, I often think about exhibitionism. Living in a city is inherently exhibitionist. A house is a permeable visible surface; it is entirely possible that someone will catch a glimpse of me they're not supposed to when I rush to the living room in only a t-shirt to turn out the light before bed. But this is a space that is only exhibitionist in the sense that it is an architecture of exposure, and yet this exposure would not be possible without the protection of the site, of the distance from every other pair of eyes. In this respect, a double freedom is secured. The window intimates the potential of seeing. But no one sees.

At the heart of this house lies a strange mix of concepts. Postmodern classicist columns of the Disney World set. The unpolished edge of the vernacular. There is also an organicist bent to the whole thing, something more Goff than Gaudí, and here we see some of the house's most organic forms, the monolith- or shell-like vanity mixed with the luminous artifice of mirrors and white. A backlit cave, primitive and performative at the same time, which is, in essence, the dialectic of the luxury bathroom.

And yet our McMansion Heaven is still a McMansion. It is still an accumulation of deliberate signifiers of wealth, very much a construction with the secondary purpose of invoking envy, a palatial residence designed without much cohesion. The presence of golf, of wood, of masculine and patriarchal symbolism with an undercurrent of luxury drives that point home. The McMansion can aspire to an art form, but there are still many levels to ascend before one gets to where God's sitting.

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#architecture #design #mcmansion #mcmansions #ugly houses #interior design #bad architecture

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blkkizzat · 6 months

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summary: After a really shitty blind date you end up lashing out at a sexy stranger, sarcastically posing him a question he's more than willing to answer. a/n: Toji got me feral as fuck today y'all but I make zero apologies. Especially for this trifling ass gif because wtf else was I supposed to do after watching this scene, who isn't thinking this is the real question!?!? wc: 3.1k over 2.1k of it is literally just Toji being a munch

eta- put a cute frame over the gif ❤︎

You were sitting alone in a dive bar after a sorry ass excuse of a blind date. Drowning your sorrows you definitely needed something stronger than the seltzers in your fridge at home.

Things on your date were going well until the end of the night when the conversation turned frisky. You then whispered into your date’s ear that you wanted to ride his face.

That's when your date’s actual face turned to repulsion. Your blind date flat out said eating pussy was gross and refused.

You had dealt with previous boyfriends not wanting to go down on women so you weren't dealing with that shit again.

Nuh-uh. No way.

After not-so-politely telling him to kindly go and fuck himself you grabbed your purse and walked right the hell out of there.

And here you are now.

Alone.

At a sketchy ass dive bar that was mostly emptied.

Three shots of tequila in and a fourth setting on the table waiting for the room to stop spinning before you down it and go home.

Your head was resting on the cool bar countertop as you cursed the entire male species for their existence.

Selfish jerks. Every single one of them.

That would be the last date you would go on in a while. The only man you wanted to see was the bartender when he handed you another shot of tequila and then he could go fuck off too.

So when you felt a large hand on your lower back and a gruff but seductive 'Hey mamas' blowing hot air in your ear you fucking lost it and the full wrath of your scorn and sarcasm was directed at this man.

"LISTEN, I've just had a really shitty blind date. I just want to take this last shot of tequila, stuff my face with KFC and go home. So unless the answer is 'Yes' to the question 'Do you eat pussy?' Get the fuck out of my face, please and thank you!"

You didn’t care who heard your drunken tirade as you lifted your head to face the punching bag for all your current male frustrations.

Your jaw dropped.

The man who stood beside you looked like he walked straight out of Greek mythology. He was tall and muscular with tan skin and his black compression shirt stuck to him like a second skin giving you a detailed view.

Shit he must be a boxer, or a martial artist or something. There was really no other excuse for a man to be that ripped.

You chewed your lip as your eyes slowly trailed up his body, drinking in his statuesque form to finally arrive at his face framed with shaggy raven hair.

Fuck he is really hot too.

The man, although sexy, looked intimidating as hell as he towered over you.

You winced as you thought you were in for it with his response and you started to already form an apology in your head.

But instead of anger the man just looked down at you with amused knowing eyes as he allowed you to ogle him.

He also wore an insanely devious smirk, his scar pulling up at the corner of his mouth.

“Heh.”

From that point things were a bit of a blur as he snatched up and downed your shot of tequila, grabbed your arm and led you away to the back with you barely having time to grab your purse.

You only registered what was happening once your back hit the cold tile of the bathroom wall and saw this sexy mysterious man lower himself to his knees before you.

His large muscular hands trailed all over your body, never leaving you.

"W-What are you doing!?"

You didn't know what to think, this was all happening so fast.

Was this intimidating but sexy as fuck man that you just met, yelled at and didn't even know his name, about to eat you out!?

"Heh, I’m answering your question, mamas."

The man spread your legs at the ankles, not even bothering to lift up the skirt of your dress. Choosing instead to just stick his head right up in there, letting the fabric drape over him.

"Wait at least tell me your na–"

Your sentence was cut short as you gasped at the sensation of his nose pressing into your clit through your black laced panties.

The man wiggled his nose against your clit like he was giving it eskimo kisses. He then salaciously took a huge whiff of your scent through his nostrils and puffed out the large exhale of warm moist breath directly over your cunt sending tingles through your body.

"Fuck, who wouldn’t want to taste this sweet slutty cunt?"

He mumbled, making the comment more to himself than you but your legs still shook slightly from the vulgar compliments and vibrations of his voice in your pussy.

You were practically purring now. You could feel the surge of heat and need rushing over your body spreading out from your core.

Especially now as his tongue was dragging up the thin lace of your panties and stopped to suck at your clit through the textured material.

It felt absolutely wild.

“F-Fuck!”

You moaned loudly and quickly covered your mouth with your hand.

His hands slid up your dress to roughly dig into your hips and pull your pelvis more forward as he smashed his face into your cunt.

Your last bit of reason was telling you to stop him. You didn’t know him at all and what if someone walked in and saw you both?

However, once you feel the man’s mouth grab the hem of your panties and drag them down your legs to remove them by his teeth alone, your common sense was discarded as well.

You exhaled as you threw your head back in resignation, missing how he slyly pocketed your black lace panties once he finally had them off of you. He would be taking those with him.

You looked down at him as he rose up again, pulling up your dress. He placed a chaste kiss on the mound of your now completely exposed pussy as you squirmed in excitement under him.

“Y’er gonna be a good girl f’er me n’ do what I say, so I can eat this slutty pussy out the way she deserves, eh?”

The cocky smirk on his face never left and he reached both hands around to grasp both your plump ass cheeks, kneading them and enjoying the way your soft flesh squeezed through his fingers.

“Y-Yeah, uh-huh, I’ll be good. I p-promise.”

You breathed out those words too rapidly causing you to realize how needy and desperate you sounded. Your hips involuntarily bucked towards him and you became pliant in his hands.

God, you were nearly begging him with your entire body at this point.

But the fact was you would be begging him anyway if for some reason he found some good sense and decided this was all way too crazy to be happening right now.

Fortunately for you, you apparently stumbled on the fairy fucking godfather of pussy eating appearing seemingly out of nowhere and who clearly didn’t give a single fuck as to where he was.

His eyes looked crazed and his grin widened at your consent. He released your cheeks to roll up your dress further.

He gave it to you, but not for you to hold with your hands but with your mouth.

“Bite down on this f’er me, yeah? Heh, wouldn’t want to draw a crowd from your screams.”

Of course he is arrogant too.

You rolled your eyes but were obedient. You were too caught up in the thrill of what was happening to disobey him and have him stop.

You bit down on the bunched designer fabric.

“That’s a good little slut f’er me.”

He mockingly praised you and gave an abrupt slap to your ass.

You whimpered around the fabric.

You really didn’t understand why you just couldn’t use your hands though, but you soon found out as he threw both of your legs over his shoulders.

Your hands were needed to brace yourself, that much became obvious to you as they flew to the wall behind. You grasped for any kind of stability you could find on the slick tile so you wouldn’t topple over.

His strong wide hands wrapped around your thighs and brought your dripping core closer to his face.

A barely audible ‘Itadakimasu’ was all the warning you got before you felt his flat heavy tongue dig into your cunt.

“S-Shiiiiiiiiit!”

Exploring your pussy like uncharted territory he took his time to lap, slurp and swirl his way through, roaming in the intoxicating folds of your cunt. A fast learner, he noted what made your body twitch, your leg shake or an extra hitch in the deep moans that escaped you through the fabric in your mouth.

Wanting to hear you scream, he swiped his canine over your clit before he traced his tongue over the bud and sucked hard.

Mission accomplished as your muffled scream came through the fabric of your dress and a hand of yours left the wall to find purchase in his hair, pulling on it hard.

He growls into your pussy with approval when he feels the harsh tug on his black strands and continues working you over, pulling all sorts of vulgar noises from you as he slobbers and spits into your cunt.

The man was fucking nasty the way he devoured you like it was his last meal on death row.

“S-so, close-ahh!”

Your muffled voice told him but the man could already tell by the way your thighs had enclosed around his head, twitching against him while suffocating him deeper into your core.

The tension that wound itself into a coil in your stomach reached his limits and it finally broke when you felt his canine swipe against your clit a second time.

Your cries choked out as they clumsily made their way out of your mouth still stuffed with your drool soaked dress.

You quivered and gushed into his mouth, eyes rolling back and your other hand found its way into his hair. Wrenching his locks in between your manicured fingers as if you intended to scalp him from how hard you were twisting.

That only served to encourage his efforts however as he slurped up your juices more fiercely. You clawed at him to release you but you might as well had steel around your body as neither his bulky muscular arms nor thick head budged.

Fuck its too much!

Finally pulling black with a pop he smacked his lips and exhaled an ‘ahhh’ as if he was taking a pause from stuffing himself with a delicious meal.

“This cunt is so fucking creamy, need some more of ‘er.”

You shook your head as tears welled in your eyes at the sight of him salivating over your puffy pussy lips glistening with the combined fluids of your cum and his spit.

“Mm, you want me to stop? But she doesn’t want me to.”

His thick tongue flattened to take painfully slow licks over your slit, the man’s fierce green eyes never leaving yours as they flared with primal urges.

You never had someone aggressively eat you out like this, not to mention actually enjoy it this much.

This man was fucking insane.

“Let’s ask this slutty pussy what she want’s, eh?”

The man tilted your pelvis up, lifting your lower back off the wall so he could move close to your hole that was fluttering, shamelessly clenching around nothing.

“See that, ma? She’s winking at me, inviting me in. How can I say no?”

He sounded absolutely unhinged as he slowly extended his tongue to push up into you.

Your muffled sobs were drowned out by the erotic squelching sounds of your cunt echoing off the tile walls.

He accelerates you to the point of overstimulation with such vigor that you easily cum on his tongue again for a second time.

This time your legs trembled more violently and your heels dug into his back causing him to grunt deeper into your pussy. The sharp digging of your heels into his back did nothing to discourage him as his tongue fucked further into your hole without mercy.

All you could do was wither in his clutches as he rolled his tongue inside you throughout the high of your second orgasm.

You were panting and your jaw became slack as you slowly lost the ability to hold your dress in your mouth any longer. Releasing it along with a well of drool that once freed, overflowed down the corners of your mouth to drip down your neck and chest along with your tears.

“One more mama, I know this slutty pussy can give me that at least... Tch, and take off that dress if ya ain’t gonna hold it, ya? Let’s see those pretty tiddies, eh?”

The man’s distasteful and outright crass words should have turned you off.

But his filthy tongue not only drains you of your juices but also any kind of restraint or decency you had left. His brash words only make you all the more aroused.

Obeying him once more, you rid yourself of the dress pulling it up and over your head, not caring where it landed.

You would rather it off than in your mouth anyway. Opting to not wear a bra with this dress you were now naked save for your heels.

“Nice tits.”

You rolled your eyes as his crass compliment but wore a small grin yourself as you playfully shook your shoulders allowing them to jiggle down at his face.

He chuckled at your display but his voice quickly turned devious again.

“Make sure y’er holding on tight this time, eh?”

You strengthen your grip on his raven locks but you still weren’t prepared for when he rose up off the ground entirely to stand, completely shouldering your weight.

“ACK!!”

The altitude change wasn’t something you expected. He held you up off the wall like you weighed nothing to him and although you felt secure around the lower half of your body, an arm still flailed around for balance.

Thankfully, you discovered you could hold on to the pipes that hung from the low ceiling yet it creaked as you held on.

Shit, you hoped it would hold.

Seeing you secure yourself the man wasted no time enveloping your cunt with his hot mouth. The gravity of your weight pushing down your core on his mouth had him more needy for air and you felt the pulses that rocked through you from his rough exhales with fervor.

“Fuckfuckfuck!”

It proved to be much more difficult to keep your cries of pleasure contained. But you bit your lip to try to suppress yourself into a whine instead of a scream.

Although that all went to shit once you saw the reflection of the two of you in the dirty floor to ceiling bathroom mirror.

You could still clearly see your forms and the way you looked. Your face completely blissed out, sweating and panting as the mad man did everything but rest while he was between your legs, circling and suckling as if he personally challenged himself to drain all the fluids from your body.

You tighten your hold on the pipe and experimentally roll your hips forward and your other hand, threaded behind his head through his thick hair pulls him closer as well.

“G-God-f-fuck-shiiiiit!”

You didn’t care who the fuck heard you this time, as you watched yourself in the mirror thrust your hips forward to fuck deeper into his face, building up a rhythm.

Your tits bounced up higher with your back arched as your mouth hung open spilling out curses, cries and moans alike. The scene was better than a porno, so hot, so feral, you half wished someone was recording this.

Absolutely loving the thought of you losing yourself to his depravity and you taking on a more aggressive role, the man growled with approval once more into your cunt as his tongue continued to unravel you.

Your movements became more frantic as you could feel your third and most intense orgasm yet approaching. He eagerly relinquishes more control to you as he allows you to grind his face farther into your pussy.

You shuddered as you felt a shock of electricity wreck your entire being, assaulting all of your senses with the feeling of pure ecstacy. Your toes ached from the intensity of their curling in your heels and your mind only filled with the sounds of the sloppy gurgling noises from the man below you literally being smothered by your cunt as you rut into him.

It wasn’t just the cheap fluorescent lights of the bathroom eye-level with you when white filled your vision and you felt yourself release to convulse and squirt all over the man’s face.

If you weren’t holding onto the pipe above for dear life, you’re sure you would have fallen.

After a few moments the man easily shifted his hold to your waist and brought your feet back to touch the ground. However, you were still more than a bit shaky and a few steps backwards had you bumping into the wall and sliding down to the floor.

Your fluids leak out into a small puddle on the ground between your sticky thighs.

The man whose name you still didn’t know slicked his hair back into place as he glanced down at you, disheveled and heaving on the floor.

“Gochisosama, mama.”

He smirked even with his face completely drenched with your nectar. He brazenly circled his tongue around his lips and corners of his mouth to greedily lap up any of you remaining that he could before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Name’s Fushiguro. Toji. Heh, and yeah ma as ya now know, I do eat pussy.”

You gave a weak chuckle at that but your eyes were glossed over and you were fading a bit. You can’t recall the last time you came that hard at all, let alone from just getting your pussy ate.

“Now, I gotta question, ma.”

Your body, still vibrating with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm has left you non-verbal so you simply nodded your head for Toji to continue.

Toji crouches down to your level which reveals his monstrous and fully bricked cock straining through his sweats.

Your eyes widen when you see it and you knew then everything about this man named Toji Fushiguro was fucking ridiculous, in both size and demeanor.

Lifting your chin so you could look him directly in his eyes, Toji slid his thumb over on your bottom lip.

The appendage bullied its way past your lips and pressed down on your tongue. Your mouth opened wide and he inspected you like he was a doctor examining the back of your throat.

Pleased with what he saw, Toji gave you a shit eating grin.

“You swallow kids?”

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

a/n: Istg I'm working on part 2 of Werewolf!Toji but theres no pussy eating in that and he needed to eat some pussy today. I deserve that and y'all deserve that too.

So here. Come and let our feral hunger feast together as Toji feasts on us.

11/4: a quick afterthought of what happened next.

Reblog to spread the depravity as everyone needs to have this crazy ass header pop-up on their timeline lmfao. But likes and comments are appreciated all the same!

tags of depravity please don't send me away for this one: @callm3senpaii @ryomens-vixen

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sexbot300 · 7 days

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a/n: in light of recent events (im crying) heres a short drabble I made of getting your pussy ate by choso, written in under 30 minutes teehee.

choso kamo was certain about a lot of things. he was certain that his brothers liked specific foods, that specific days of the week offered the best coupon deals at the grocery store, that wool is a better fabric for sweaters than scratchy polyester and he was more than certain that being between your thighs was his own personal heaven.

well– at least that’s what he imagined to be certain of. countless and countless of times did you show up in his home, complaining about how no men nowadays “know” how to take care of a woman in bed. all he could do is furrow his eyebrows on the couch that you sit adjacent to him, wondering how in the hell men get the opportunity to get into bed with you and don’t worship every last second of it.

clearing his throat while turning to the tv, his muscular pale arms spanning out on the cushions of the couch behind you. wearing a black compression shirt that highlighted every rigid of his well-built body, gray sweatpants hanging loosely down on his sculpted v-line. “well, not all of them are. they’re just not me.”

sitting your body upright leaning slightly away from him as his face was still glued to the fluorescent-lit box. slightly scoffing, “oh really kamo?”

tilting his head to the side, leaning against his bulging bicep, his brown eyes bore into yours. whispering silently, “yeah. really.” his eyes wore an expression of tiredness, purple decorated his half-lidded eyes. it would be a crime not to give into him right then and there.

giggling while shaking your head, “fine choso.” you roll your eyes melodramatically. “bet you can make me cum in under 10 minut-“

his eyes still trailing every dramatic movement, he found himself enticed by every little expression made on your face. wherever you moved, his eyes followed in complete awe. cutting you off completely, “give me 5 minutes with my tongue.”

that’s where you found yourself withering on that very couch, legs overthrown on his broad shoulders. god knows where your panties were located and now your own self-respect. because the way this man was working his tongue up against your clit had you questioning why you haven’t done this sooner.

“a-ah! c-choso! too m’ch!” fingers gripped firmly on his hair that now fell loosely on his back, out of his usually buns framing his devastatingly handsome face. soaked with your sex, your slick coated from the tip of his nose to his entire chin. eyes even more half-lidded, they stared directly in your soul while his plush lips engulfed your clit. sucking harshly, eliciting lewd wet noises as he tongue would circle around the pearl in hungry motions.

“t-that’s fine.” he started, pussy drunk as his nose dipped against your clit that now detached from his tongue. his tongue now probed at the entrance of pussy never fully fucking his entire muscle into you, slowly taunted the hole that clenched at nothing. “better than not enough huh?”

dipping his head in even further, he brought a large hand up to your stomach, pressing down causing you to squirm. quickly shoving his nose deeper in your throbbing clit, his tongue fully penetrated your clenching hole. bobbing back and forth, fucking his tongue into you.

“c-cant cho!” squirming around your body convulsed as this man ruthlessly fucked his tongue into you, “no. you can… you will.” his words come out muffled, as he pushes himself out before lapping up and down your folds like a madman and then pushing his tongue back in to your sopping core.

this elicits a mean, mean cycle of choso constantly fucking you on his tongue, to straight up messily making out with your cunt, to using his mouth to engulf your clit as your own section toy. only leaving you with moans of; “oh choso!” “d-don’t stop, so fucking! mhpm! good! ah!” swirling his tongue against your bud, the penetration of two, thick, long fingers began to curve upright instantly hitting the sweet spot you needed. “y-you! uhhh! liar!” head hitting back the back of the couch, as eyes rolled back into your head. in a whiny pathetic whimper, “you saaaaah! said, only t-ah! tongue!”

“ch-cho! ah!” hooking one bicep under your thigh, the knot of release was the only thing clouding your judgement. “t-that’s…” suck! “it” lick! “just cum on my fingers and tongue…” moaning into your cunt, his eyes dazed as he ruthlessly pumps his fingers in and out while his mouth abuses your swollen clit. “don’t blame me that my fingers wanted to play with your cute little pussy.”

as your body sporadically twitches underneath him, clawing everywhere from the cushions underneath to his hair. he finds his free hand pinning both of your hands down, while his fingers scissor in and out, up and down. his body quickly adapting to how fast your moving, moaning like a whore. his whore.

“ah! no! CAN’T choso! this is it! ahhhhhh fu’kkkkk!”

“you can.” he maintained eye contact with you. his eyes almost black from the pupil dilation, this wasn’t your regular choso. this was the face of a man starved of pussy. his voice grew huskier while in the folds of your cunt, “and you will.” middle and ring finger start vehemently fucking into you, curving them upwards while he went up and down your contracting walls. only the lewd noises of your juices, moans, and choso’s fingers fucking you filled the room. within an instant, a slow gush of liquid starting squiring out of your pussy. taken you back by surprise.

“thereee we go. see? wasn’t so bad.. just let me take care of you from here on out, show you that I’m not just any man. I’m the only man you need.”

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months

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Hal congrats on the 5k you absolutely deserve it.

I have a request for the 5k event so here it is

The reader is John's wife who's 9 months pregnant and basically about to burst. Reader goes into Labour while John is out on the field.

Again congratulations on 5k you absolutely deserve every single follower since your Storys are just chefs kiss. I'm very glad i found your blog when i did!

—Here Now

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [He nearly misses one of the most important moments of your lives together.] ❞

You had told him you would be fine, and, of course, John knew he could take your word—even if over these nine months he’d been more worried than he had been in his entire life. It would have been difficult for you to say how you were truly feeling about being home alone two days past your due date with no one but the birds outside to give you company.

He had been up at arms about being with you through this, and the man’s stubbornness about that fact had made your face go soft with love. John was the most loyal man you’d ever met; add in a child on the way and he became no better than a hound baying at the scent of a fox. But this had apparently been so important that he’d asked you about the idea of being away for a day—a single day, the man had emphasized, even if the others had to stay wherever they were going for longer. He’d take the red-eye back the second after the time was up, a whole military Heli and all.

One day was far better than one week—far better than one month. So, you’d agreed albeit a bit reluctantly as the man reassured you he’d be back safe and whole. He’d be back for the birth.

Yeah, that was a load of bullshit.

You lay in the hospital room, panting and trying to keep your eyes open as the contractions hit once more; a whimper hidden as you bend your neck forward to let your chin hit your chest.

“Shit,” you breathe, the nurse moving out of the room quickly to grab more water and the doctor for you.

This had been going on for a good four hours—levels of shaking pain that lasted upwards of a minute and had been increasing in frequency more so in the last sixty minutes. They’d finally had you lay back on the bed only a little bit ago, and you knew at that point that John would be unable to make it for the birth of your first child.

The thought terrified you.

You place a hand on your stomach and blink down at it, the raised half of the bed behind you and the chill of the room making you shiver. The buzz of the lights—the closed windows. Your heart is running not only from the thought of this, of all that could go wrong, but also because you now lacked the most steady rock you’d had in your entire life: John. He’d know what to tell you to make you calm down, to make your mind stop with all the panic.

But he’s not here, and that alone makes you want to—

The door opens so quickly it nearly busts off of its hinges.

Your heart sputters, head jerking back as you wince from another contraction, this one far more painful and promising to stay for longer. Closer now. But your eyes blink on something more important.

“I’m here, Love.” As if a phantom, John hurries through, a gaggle of wide-eyed nurses behind him before the door to your room is shut by firm hands. “Fuckin’ hell, Sweetheart, I’m ‘ere, it’s alright.”

He’s still in his gear—lacking weapons as those had probably been tossed away on Base—but vest and hat are present; the large boots with tucked pants and that compression shirt. You watch in shock as he speeds up to the side of your bed, taking your hand in his large one and squeezing. His other grabs the motion-less chair and drags it over with a grunt.

“Now,” John says, shaking his head at you as you simply stare. “You squeeze my hand as hard as you well please then, yeah? Don’t care if you break a few fingers, Love, I’ve been through worse.”

“How…” You mutter, tears welling in your eyes. “How did you…?”

He blinks those tiny blues at you, twitching his nose as his gaze darts down your body.

“Had a feeling,” is all he says.

You laugh through a sob and he presses his forehead into yours, hand on the base of your skull.

“I’m here right now,” he utters. “Gonna have to have a few words with the little Muppet when they’re out about timing. Nearly made me bloody miss it.”

“John Price,” you scolded lightly, laughing.

He only hums and tries to hide his wide grin, eyes shimmering.

By the time it’s all over, he holds the both of you to his vest-less top as he leans back beside your bare dewy skin, the small bundle kept to your chest with its gripping hands. John’s arm was around your shoulders, drawing you to him. You had fallen asleep not minutes prior, and the soldier kept watch as he always had when his girl was needing him.

Well, girls now.

He watches, not speaking, barely breathing, only pulling you closer to him as you sigh and shift. The baby, his and yours baby, gargles and kicks her little feet until he shifts a hand to assist your own in cupping her higher. His smile is uncontainable, just like the sudden glossiness to his eyes at such a tiny weight in his grip.

John watches, and he comes to a conclusion as he presses a deep kiss into your scalp, his thumb taken into the smallest grip that has ever held it.

There was never a more beautiful sight than the one right in front of him.

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prettyoatmeal · 1 year

Text

MORE John Price Headcanons While You're Dating

Part 2 to this!

Since SO many people (like 4) were asking for me to do a part 2, here it is! Enjoy! A/N at the end!

Genre: Fluff! Smut after the buffer.

Summary: Just some more headcanons I've thought of. GN reader, no mentions of Y/N.

Content Warnings: NSFW After buffer.

Masterlist here!

***************

Big big big big boy.

He's quite muscular, got that meat on him (I mean, hell. Look at those shoulders). This means he needs to buy pretty large sized clothing for himself when he's out shopping.

This also means that they're a perfect size for you, able to very easily slide into a shirt of his and just wear that with how long it is on you.

They're just so comfy and baggy and cover you up so well, they're nice for when you don't feel like wearing something form fitting or if yours are in the wash.

John would definitely approve.

They'd smell like him, like home, how could you not wear them every now and again?

If you asked really nicely, John would get you a personal travel bottle of his cologne to keep on you at all times.

If you two are deployed, then he'd definitely pack a few extra shirts and sweaters of his because he knows you'll want some with you in the barracks. Maybe sleep in them or use them as a pillow case.

Seeing you in his clothes would definitely rile him up, seeing how the shirt gathers around your hips especially would leave a lasting effect on him. Expect his hands to be all over you.

You'd get the same reaction from him from wearing something more form fitting.

Wearing something that hugs your curves and shows off how great you look?

Oh boy.

It would drive him mad.

Would purposefully buy you shirts or those bike shorts in a half size too small and blame it on forgetting your size or being an 'accident' just to watch you try them on and gaze how the fabric squeezes around your chest and thighs.

Would definitely get heart eyes from that.

"John, are you sure this is my size?" as you finally pull the shirt over your chest, feeling how constricting the fabric is.

"Is or isn't, you look divine!"

If you wear a proper compression shirt, he'd probably die on the spot.

please please please please wear one.

No matter how thick or thin you are, he'd love every bit of how you look, and he'd definitely make that well known to you.

Definitely the kind to love playing with your hair, especially if it's long. He'd love braiding it, brushing it, running his fingers through it, literally anything,

Loves feeling how soft it is right after you wash it.

Will probably offer to help you dry it.

"Allow me," typa guy for sure.

He'd also be very big on communication.

He's had a lot of experience and has realised that bottling feelings up and keeping them locked away can only make the situations worse.

If you notice he's particularly upset, would always vent to you (If you're comfy w that of course) just to get how he's feeling out of the way, hoping it won't interfere with anything else.

Not one to pull the silent treatment, in fact, he hates it. If you're the kind to pull the silent treatment, he would egg it out of you one way or another.

"I'm too old for this, spit it out," in the kindest way possible.

He knows how draining it is physically and mentally to keep your emotions to yourself, so he'd always convince you to finally let it all loose.

Please tell him how you're feeling, especially if he's the person you're upset with. It breaks his heart seeing you upset and will 100% do everything in his power to make the situation right again.

The type to get grumpy or emotional when he's sleepy. Sometimes he just needs a soft chest or soft tummy to lay his head on and he'll be out like a light.

If you would let him sleep on top of you, that is. All that muscle would be pretty heavy so unless he knew you could take it, little spoon would do just fine for him.

Yeah, he'd love being little spoon. Loves feeling your arms pulling him deeper into your chest.

John is pretty dominant in a traditional sense, very masculine, a fierce leader, knows exactly what he wants and how he's going to get it, but he's also a massive softie and will do anything and everything to have your full attention when he's in the mood.

Yes, he wants to be little spoon, yes, he will also lead an army of men through a battlefield. They exist.

__________________

NSFW

He's an ass man, 100%.

Y'know how I said he'll 'accidentally' buy smaller sizes just to see how the material so perfectly forms itself to your curves?

Yeah, this is why.

Will grab and slap your ass at every chance he gets (with your consent, ofc) even in the most innocent of situations.

Whether you're bending down to pick up something you've dropped, over the kitchen counter while pulling something down from the top shelves, or just leaning over the dinner table to wipe it down, SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Jolting you forward.

Loves to hear that high pitched, surprised shriek coming from your mouth at the sudden impact of his hand on your behind.

Backshots with him would be crazy, fingers intertwined with your hair, pushing your face into the mattress as he pounds into you from behind.

Doggy or reverse cowgirl would be his favourite positions because he just gets that full view of your ass jiggling with each bounce or each thrust from his hips.

Definitely wouldn't be gentle, but wouldn't be too rough either, that perfect balance.

Maybe a bit rougher when he's desperate or releasing some pent up stress, but all in all, he wouldn't dare to hurt you unless its the very occasionally slap on the ass or thighs.

I feel like it would be out of his comfort zone as well. Seeing how prominent his hand prints can be after spanking, seeing them on your face or anywhere else would probably make him upset during the process.

Spanking would be the furthest he'd go, making sure the skin is red and raw.

Would stop if he notices you're crying. Breaks his heart.

On the contrary, will gladly make you cry with his head between your legs. Feeling how you twitch against his mouth every time he makes you cum brings a smile to his lips.

VERY focused on making you cum first. Very focused on making sure you're comfortable ad satisfied all the way.

Definitely prefers to be dominant in bed, likes having that control.

Daddy kink probably.

He probably wouldn't make too much noise in bed, maybe a few groans and whines. But would for sure be a dirty talker.

"Yeah, that feels good, doesn't it?"

"Sucking daddy's cock- fuck, -so well, Gorgeous.."

"So fucking tight, aint ya. Mmh, fuck, keep squeezing around me like that, Dove."

Will only let out a classic moan for when he cums.

"That's it, gonna fill you up so good- ahh~!"

Surprising at first since he'd never made all that much sound before but the more you know.

Its totally hot though.

King of aftercare, tbh.

Would gladly carry you everywhere after you've become too sore to walk anywhere yourself.

Even if you can walk after a pounding, will still carry you. Gotta be treated like royalty after letting him slam into your holes like that.

Boy, did it feel good.

***************

I somehow accidentally deleted the first draft of this I made so this turned out a lot shorter than I first wanted it to :(

Also why it took so long lol. I swear, idk why my Tumblr is bugging so much but losing like 2k words after I've worked on it all day literally broke my heart.

Probably don't expect a part 3, but after having a few days to myself, my motivation has defo returned haha.

Goodnight!! <33

Tags: @mind-nine @tapioca-marzipan @underthestarwars @avalkyrieofparis

#call of duty #cod mw2 #John Price x reader #Captain Price x Reader #John Price Imagines #Captain Price Imagines #John Price Fluff #Captain John Price Fluff #MW2 x reader

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genderlessghoul · 5 months

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This is for @anonymouslymadebydesign

I'm so sorry I don't know how to Tumblr properly I messed up your ask 😭 (if anyone saw me post this one for 3 minutes and then delete it, no you didn't)

Here's how to differentiate all the current ghouls, explained as best as I can!

Dew :

First we have our lead guitarist, nicknamed Dewdrop or Sodo. He's most often seen playing his white Stratocaster guitar, which is a great way to identify him. He's the smallest of all the men in the group and also has a very small frame that matches his height.

He's arguably the easiest to recognize with the costumes on because he's the only one with white horns on his mask. He usually wears his sleeves rolled up and has a black compression shirt underneath. If his sleeves aren't rolled up, you'll notice he has no ruffles at the cuffs. He wears a balaclava over his mouth and nose

You know how they say the smaller you are, the closer to hell? Yeah that's Dewdrop. He's our angry gremlin, he likes to throw stuff at people. He also has a very distinct posture. The way he walks and stands, at least to me, inspires authority, it's almost intimidating.

Phantom :

On rhythm guitar, we have Phantom or Aeon, people couldn't agree on the nickname. He plays a black Fantomen guitar. He's a bit taller than Dew and has a similar frame.

His mask has scratch marks in the leather on the left side. He also wears his sleeves rolled up with a compression shirt underneath, sometimes they're kinda rolled the "wrong" way around so he looks like he has bell sleeves. His cuffs also don't have ruffles. He also wears a balaclava over his mouth and nose, it took him a while to know how to wear it properly because it used to stick to his face so bad.

He's the newest and he tends to act a bit younger too if that makes sense? He's very playful with the audience and thrives on interactions (my personal biggest brag is playing a game of rock paper scissors with him when I saw them live. He's very flexible and will not hesitate to throw himself on the floor.

Rain :

On bass we have Rain. He plays a couple different basses in the show. If you tend to get confused with instruments, your best bet is to count the strings. A regular guitar has 6 while a bass guitar has 4. He's taller than Phantom and Dew but he still has a small frame, he's our lanky boy.

They changed most of the ghouls' masks this summer so this is not a 100% method anymore but his mask used to have a little patch on the right side that one of the horns was poking out of. His nose is always poking out from underneath and he wears tape on the bridge of it. He rarely rolls his sleeves but it does happen. He doesn't have a compression shirt underneath. His cuffs still have ruffles. He only wears his balaclava over his mouth

He's often classified as shy by the fandom, he acta a bit more neutral on stage than the other ghouls but he does have his moments. He's not very stable on his feet hence the name Rain.

Mountain :

Mountain is our drummer. He's the tallest of our ghoul.

I don't remember what was special about his mask before it got changed but he's often recognized by sheer height alone. After concerts before bows, he can sometimes be seen walking around the stage without his vest and/or shoeless. His sleeves don't have ruffles anymore. He wears a balaclava for official pictures but not on stage, he paints his exposed skin black instead.

We don't have a lot on him personality wise given he's hiding behind a drum kit the entire show. The people who know more about drums than me seem to agree that he has a bit of an aggressive playing style.

Swiss :

Then we have our multi ghoul Swiss (my beloved). He plays a rain shaker, a tambourine and allegedly a black hagstrom viking baritone guitar. He also does backing vocals. He's the tallest after Mountain and our boy is large.

Before they changed the masks, he had a small patch on the left side, kind of behind and below the horn. He rolls up his sleeves with no compression shirt and has ruffles at the cuffs. He doesn't wear a balaclava and can often be identified by his bigass smile.

He is feral. He is The Whore. He will secude everything and everyone in his path. He definitely likes to act very sexual on stage and has no shame in grabbing his band mates in less than appropriate ways. Sometimes he does things that he's the only one to know why. Be warned he cheats at rock paper scissors.

Then we have the ghoulettes

They all have pretty much the exact same uniform without variation at all but they can be differentiated by their body type and personality. They also have capes compared to the boys.

Cirrus :

She's on keys and keytar. She's quite tall and has an average body type. She has her own solo during Mummy Dust on keytar and she's absolutely rocking to it. Loves to interact with fans during it.

Cumulus :

She's on keys, tambourine and backing vocals. She's the roundest of the ghoulettes and she's rather small. In my opinion she's the most wholesome ghoul, she just wanna spread love.

Aurora :

She's on backing vocals and tambourine. Smallest of them all, she makes Dewdrop look like a giant. She has a big personality and she's the ghoulette that jumps and dances around the most.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghoul #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghost #cirrus ghoulette #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #cumulus ghost #aurora ghoulette #meerkat talks about ghost costumes #kind of

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rhinestonz · 4 months

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☆ NEEDA HEAR YOU SAY IT ☆

It was times like this when you missed Toji. The clanks and clatter of silverware and China nulling in with the sounds of the TV. You had it on his favorite channel. Ready for him to come home. Everyday you missed him wishing he was there. Lately it had felt like Toji had forgotten all about you. Giving you a single small peck when he came home and going about his day. You were suddenly craving validation , like how you used to get. His long kisses and soft groups to your skin while telling you how good you are to him. Maybe this need for validation was the reason you went out of your way today.

Toji fushiguro x housewife!reader. Praise kink. Squirting. Slight angst. Fucking on kitchen island.

You jumped to your feet as you heard the door knob twist. Practically running to Toji. He looked down at you with a small smile , kissing you on the forehead. “ how’ve you been, baby?” He inquired. His voice tired as he unbuttoned his coat. It was winter but he still opted for that compression shirt. “ Even if you're freezing you just gotta show off your muscles” you rolled your eyes. Taking his coat and hanging it. Toji stared at you incredulously as you knelt down and started untying his boots. “Uh … what the hell are you doing ?” He asked. His eyebrow raised “ what’s gotten into you ?” He laughed. You stood up , you weren’t sure. “ I um .. I don’t know “ you huffed out with a small laugh. Turning away from him into the living room. You waved your hands up “ look how good I cleaned” you cheered. Toji smiled , you looked so tiny in the living room. Then he took a moment to scan your figure. A white crop top with some blue jeans that hugs your lower half so nicely. “Why are you dressed?” He asked. You looked down at yourself “ I think this is causal” you said nonchalantly. Toji walked closer to you, pulling you into a hug. “ you’re acting so weird today baby,” he said laced with concern. You ignored his comment. “ Look how good I mopped,” you said, pointing towards the marble floors. Toji pulled you close by your waist , ignoring your finger. “ Don’t ignore me baby “ he warned, his voice a little deeper than before. You pouted , your fist against his chest. Tears began to well in your eyes . Toji's voice began to try and comfort you, like telling a 5 year old not to cry. You burst into tears anyway “ why don’t you care about what I do anymore ?, do I not clean well enough? I did the laundry! I even polished the kitchen island !!” You weeped. Your face is buried into Toji’s chest. Your fist hit Toji as you heard him chuckle , “ This isn’t funny you big fucking jerk!“ you curse. You felt his large hands turn you around by your waist. “Awww Sweet thing~” he cooed at you. “ I didn't think you’d need me to tell you that stuff” he sighed. You felt him lift you up a bit, moving you to the kitchen island. Toji placed small kisses on your neck from behind. “ Ofc my sweet thing does more than she even needs to for me, I’m so grateful for all the things you do” he said fondly. Something inside you was satisfied by that , however , feeling his crotch against the denim of your jeans left you needing more satisfaction.

“F-fuck Toji~” you screamed out. Your toes barely touching the ground as you were bent over the kitchen island. “ Fuck sweet thing , your the best thing that’s ever happened to me “ Toji cursed out. His hip rutting into the plump of your ass over and over. You swear your brain was going numb. Barely able to keep your head up. Getting a good whiff of the cleaning product you used as your face squished against the marble. “ such a good girl , cleaning this counter so you can see your pretty lil fucked out face in it?” You had almost forgotten the feeling of Toji being rough on you. Fuck you missed it. Your tears stained the counter you had cleaned “ “to think , my sweet thing had been crying just cuz she wanted sum praise” he teased. Gripping your hair tightly leaning down putting his whole weight on you. You were so sloppy. You could feel drops of you twos’ essence on the floor beneath you whenever your toes could graze the ground. Bent over the marble , feeling Toji’s cock in your stomach against the cool marble beneath it. Fuck he was so big. Your moans became strained. Though you missed this, with all that cleaning you just wanted to cum on his cock , be filled up , and then crash. “Want praise Sweet thing ?” Toji fauxed confusion “ I can give you that “ he smirked. You felt him brushing your cervix, so big he could barely fit in you. “ Your such a good fucking girl , so good to me “ you almost felt those words in your core. “ hm ? My pretty woman just wants to hear me say I love her , that she’s doing a good job” . “ T-Toji m’ close” you whined. “ Well my Sweet thing deserves it , doesn’t she ?” He said, giving you a particularly harsh hit you your g-spot. You sprayed all over his torso and the floor. “Fuckk~” you whimpered. You almost went limp. Toji picked you up , carrying you to the bathroom. “don’t worry , I can clean a mess , but probably not as good as you, “ he joked. Running you a bath and giving you a long kiss.

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redditreceipts · 2 months

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So this is the answer to an ask that @wild-wombytch has sent me, and I chose to answer it in this format because the original ask contains a link to a post that I'd rather not share, to maintain respectful of OP.

Thank you, I'm fine! and cool that you like the cat pictures ❤️ I'll make a separate post for you just containing cat pictures

and thank you so much for saying that! ❤️❤️

yeah, so @wild-wombytch refers to a post that deals with a person who got a tumor from HRT. They have made a post in a mainstream trans subreddit and the people on there got mad at them, because they didn't want to recognise the downsides of HRT:

So this is just a whole other level. People hating on OP because they got a brain tumor is so despicable. These people can rot in hell

(Also, if you want to use my post to make fun of OP for having a brain tumor, enjoy getting blocked 🥰 I try to make this a welcoming place for people who are transitioning, detransitioning or having problems with their medical transition. If you can't handle that, please fuck off)

The specific kind of tumor this person is talking about, a pituitary brain tumor, is (as stated) probably linked to HRT in trans women. This reminds me of the myriad of posts by trans women talking about galactorrhea. Galactorrhea refers to the spontaneous lactation without having given birth or breastfeeding a baby, which can occur in women and men. And what is the most common cause for Galactorrhea?

the most common cause of galactorrhea is a benign tumor in your brain. Even though benign tumors are not as dangerous as cancerous tumors, they can still cause severe dysfunction over time, because they can still grow slowly and compress vital areas of the brain. It's definetly not a topic to be joked about.

I was able to find a ton of "I am spontaneously lactating as a trans woman, is this normal"-posts in the span of seconds. Remember: Galactorrhea, a condition that is most commonly caused by a brain tumor. And what are the responses?

keep in mind: this person probably had not only been lactating, but even had blood in their nipple discarge. Up to a fifth of women who have that sign of discharge have a malignant cause for it - I can't imagine that the prospect for biological males on HRT is much better.

so yeah, instead of telling them to go see their doctor or anything, they link them to r/AdultBreastfeeding - it's a fetish subreddit for people who have a lactation fetish and want to induce lactation.

I mean, a large amount of the stuff I post here is kinda funny and absurd, but if you get a bit deeper in these online echochambers, it gets really dark real quick. Where did we go from "everyone should live their lives as they wish" to "downplaying brain cancer to own the terfs"? And this doesn't mean that every trans woman should immediately stop their HRT just to prevent that from happening. That's not what I'm saying here. I'm just saying that these people genuinely don't seem to care about anything other than their ideology, and even medical professionals are seen as "lying" and "bigoted", and people with brain tumors are accused of "attacking the trans community". How is this not a cult??

Also, I wish the person who made the original post all the best :) I hope they find people who support them and help them heal

#transmed #transmedical #radical feminism #radblr #radical feminists do interact #radical feminists please touch #gender critical #brain tumor #pituitary gland #pituitary gland tumor #radical feminst #terfblr #gc feminism #radfem safe #gc feminist #radical feminist safe

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opluffys · 1 year

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Personal-

posted first to my archive- you can read ‘mentor mentee’ for more context if you’d like, but you can also read this blind! pls let me know if there are any errors and i hope you enjoy!

tags- rough sex, size difference, size kink, angst, toxic relationship, internal conflict, creampie, vaginal sex, mating press, fem reader.

4k words.

-Ghost x Reader-

-nsfw/smut-

Forcing yourself to drag your stare from the monotonous and drab documents onto him, standing there in all of his terrifying glory. Mountainous and big, all of him, from his behaviour to his looks. You were tired of it, of him. Lies.

You wondered what brought him in this time. Part of you had already known, though.

"Did you fuck him again?"

You scoffed, clicking your pen and setting it down gently, the dark ink setting to dry over the tinted pages. You had wanted to tell him a false truth, but is it really false? A growing bit of you had wanted to scurry back to Price, sticking to his side just as you'd done for Ghost.

"Why does that matter?" You began to kick your shoes off, knowing what would happen in the next few moments. Bent over the desk and fucked until broken sounds left you, like always.

Ghost stilled, displeased with your response. He'd not yet closed the distance between you two, not yet sealing your fate for the night. To be sore and stuffed full of him, is what you'd anticipated, thighs squeezing together as you started to reminisce.

What good were you though, if you were just made to say yes? To always listen and mindlessly obey whatever Ghost would say and ask of you. You attempted to will away whatever lecherous thoughts that compelled you, standing from your office chair.

"There's always something I've wanted to ask you. Something I've been too afraid to even think of." You laughed, a saddened and dry sound. You forced yourself to continue on with your complex dialogue.

"Can you tell me Ghost? What you and I are to one another?" Your question was desperate, tone shaky and eyes glossy. You'd constructed a perfect answer within your muddied mind, hoping that he'd say what you'd wanted to hear, overcome with something to falsify that answer.

You waited for his reply, your stare stuck on his dark one. You loathed looking into his eyes, because they told you everything you'd wanted to know. You knew he had an answer, one so intricate and lengthy, he himself was unaware- the thing that had been so utterly amusing though, was that you were equally as unknowing, too.

And like a true spirit, he'd left as silently as he'd appeared.

•

A muted moan left your lips, bent and folded in an impossible, nearly, position, taking Ghost into your pussy. His large and gloved hands were on the backs of your knees, pushing and folding your legs to compress your entire being. The large and ill-fitting shirt hung off of your body as he pushed into your heat, oddly gently, eye contact starting to make you nervous and nauseous.

He continued to feed his large cock into you, leaving just a bit of him to keep you stretched open before shoving himself back in. You cried out to him, your hands tangled into the cheap sheets of his bed, and- his bed? Your eyes popped open, scanning your surroundings, and oh, how the hell did you end up here? In his supposed safe haven, his fucking home.

How had the stars aligned for the two of you to get a break at the same exact time? Not so much as a break, more like a medically related one for Ghost, and you'd been forced to go watch over him, since he was notorious for not trusting other hospitals. The man barely trusted anyway, this was not at all surprising. This all made sense, but how you'd gotten into this position hadn't.

A soft squeeze at your plush flesh had your eyes flickering back to his, "Look at me while I fuck you."

Your breath hitched, legs opting to close, being stopped by him. He pulled out again, slow, slower than he's ever gone with you before. You were used to a rabid and animalistic pace, one that would shake you back and forth from his thrusts alone. But this? Leisure and slow, powerful and strong thrusts of his cock inside your walls, deep eye contact, those honey eyes with light lashes staring down at you. Ever so slightly narrowing when you'd squeezed him in such a way, tight and snug around his thick girth.

You, for once, stared right back at him. Through your tears at your waterline threatening to flow, through thickened lashes, you stared at him, just as he'd wanted you to. Just his tip was inside of you now, and he waded himself back in, watching and appraising your reaction. Every twitch of your body, how your legs tried to close, how your pussy spasmed around his cock and tried force him out- all of it.

Ghost struggled to get all of him inside of you, so used to just having you sit atop him and laze back, often in your own seat. He'd watch, somewhat amused, as you rode him, so fervent, hands behind your back while you would moan and whisper whatever it was you'd said. He'd, when feeling generous, roll his hips up into you to meet you halfway, watching as your eyes opened in shock when you felt him just a little deeper.

So, at a new and all too personal angle, he continued to work his dick into you, hearing your small 'it's too much,' or 'you're so big' spur him on with every minuscule movement from him. Ghost wasn't one to try new things, opting instead for something familiar. Like maybe having your face buried into the sterile cot as he fucked you from the back, fast and unforgiving speed always having you moan out to him in pure ecstasy. But, he was open for new things at times. Sharing you with Price (once was enough for him), having you set the pace, trying new positions.

He briefly questioned if you'd enjoyed the change, too.

Cutting through the silence, he spoke, "You like getting fucked like this? Feelin' me right- fuck, right here?" His large hand fanned out over your abdomen, pushing down and able to feel himself inside. Your hand scrambled over his, cold leather meeting you. The sensation of the provided pressure too much, per usual.

"God, don't, don't do that again." A whine left you, your body betraying you as you pushed his hand down, a timid ask, again, please.

He listened, pushing that spot over your stomach down, the cold material of his gloves making it feel a little less personal- because to be completely true to yourself, you had to admit how badly you'd wanted to touch him. To feel his hands, without the leather barrier, to hold them and wonder how they would feel in your smaller ones. Your hand enclosed over his, raising it a bit, fingers attempting to lift his glove off. You wanted it to feel personal. You were tired of it not being such.

But you were also so fucking scared of it becoming just that, too personal. As every aspect of your day to day life had some of Ghost in it, your conscious and mind having the most of him within, constant thoughts plaguing your mind. These thoughts, for once, hadn't deterred you, continuing to ease the leather glove off of Ghost's hand.

He didn't seem to take note of what you'd been doing, lost in your tight insides, his eyes fluttering closed at the pleasure you'd provided him. Maybe that's why he'd chosen you, because you were the only one who could take him like this, take him any fucking way he'd chosen. You had been the only one able to give him a similar sensation of pure euphoria, just as he'd given you.

"Ghost, I-" A sharp inhale from you as your cunt continued to struggle with his size, "I want to touch you." So sudden, your voice was airy and light, almost as if you'd pass out at any given moment. And from how lightheaded you'd felt at both your request and at the way Ghost had slowly been fucking into you, it didn't seem too far off from actually happening.

Your brain hadn't even had the time to concoct whatever negative scenarios, as he spoke up, "Why now."

Not a question, a statement. He's right- why now? You'd always despised loved the idea of touching him, and you'd so desperately wanted to put that idea into fruition, even though the rightful side of you, the more logical one, had attempted to warn you that it wasn't a good idea. If you'd felt him, then perhaps you'd grow even more addicted than you already were.

You'd take your chances, though.

"I don't know why, just, oh, fuck," You forgot what the hell you were even talking about, feeling his cock just about bottom out inside of you. "Please."

He stopped, hovering over you, a single hand keeping your leg spread while the other was entangled with yours. The ambient and low lighting framing him with an odd glow, one that had you wanting to cower in fear.

Lightly, so much so that you almost hadn't noticed, he squeezed your hand back, an answer to you, fine, yeah okay. It was unsure, just as his demeanour normally was around you. You pushed the glove off, the item falling to the floor with a barely audible sound. You, for a moment, held his hand. Not too long, because then you knew that he'd retract it and slip that glove back on, that sense of protection back on, his sense.

His hand was rough and calloused, but so warm. Heavy in your hand and against your touch, you laced your fingers with his before squeezing, looking up at him, his figure blurry through tinted lenses.

"Go faster, please." A shy appeal, something which your body couldn't even handle, your insides unable to withstand the spare inches that Ghost had yet to fuck into you.

"You can handle it, can't you?" He rolled his hips upwards, his cock dragging against your walls in a way that had you feeling dizzy.

Words had failed you, so you nodded, anchoring yourself to him just by holding his big hand. Your eyes etching shut, before widely opening from a particularly harsh and deep thrust by Ghost.

"Keep your eyes on me."

You attempted at a nod before throwing your head back and gasping, air refusing to fill your lungs as Ghost had nearly pushed the entirety of his dick in. He was filling you to the fucking brim, stuffing you full of him, his flushed tip threatening to bash into your womb again and again.

You held the position that he'd folded you into, thighs beginning to burn at the abnormal angle. You then remembered, he'd crowded into your space while you bandaged his abdomen is what began this all. You don't even remember what he'd said to you, what he'd done, for you to end up beneath him- a sight that you'd witness on the regular. He's never had you so close to him, his face merely inches away from yours. His deep and dark stare never leaving yours, spare for the few times he'd straighten his posture and sound his own moans. Gravelly and low, shutting his eyes while his blonde lashes fell over his cheeks in bliss.

You briefly looked down towards your hand, staring at the larger one that had been loosely holding yours. You'd never even seen his hands before, always clad with leather and never showing his actual flesh. It was scarred, and big- just like the rest of him, full of protruding veins and tendons. The size of his lone hand could fit both of yours within it easily, making your face have a warm heat fan across. You began to think about how his hands would pin yours to the wall, the mattress, whatever, while pounding into you. Feeling conflicted between lust and love, no, this isn't love, it never will be.

Yet, you clutched onto him like it was.

You wanted to commit this sight, this entire night, to memory, because you knew that the next morning you'd criticise yourself for it. Endless questioning of how you'd allowed him to get so close to you, to hold you like a lover and fuck into you like one, slowly, oddly carefully for him too- it never made any sense. He'd either be too cold, which is the Ghost you'd known, or he'd slightly warm up, handling you with care instead of typical rag-doll fashion.

You'd handle your emotions in the morning.

You squeezed his hand, tightly, drawing his attention back to you. "Faster," You plead, feeling his hips slowly push against you, the soft material of his gray sweatpants soft against your exposed skin.

"You know to ask nicely, love."

You hated adored when he'd call you pet names, they just made you feel more attached. Nevertheless, you obeyed, "Please, please go faster, Ghost."

He hummed lowly, pleased at your obedience. His leisure speed hastened, his forehead pressing against yours as your eyes flitted closed, little whimpers and moans leaving your agape lips.

"Fuck, so good, you're so good." He grunted, bottoming out inside of you at last, hearing you cry out in slight soreness. His nose was brushing against yours, his eyes on you, brow furrowed. He's so fucking pretty, and you hadn't even known what he'd looked like.

"You're so deep," Your words slurred, feeling his cock rub up against your slick walls deliciously.

"Yeah? You like it, don't you?" He groaned, sounding like a deep growl rumbling in his clothed chest. His speed was dizzying now, slamming into you with fervour.

You nodded, feeling his hand pin yours on the mattress, the soft and laced hold now turning into something filthy, a means to hold you down.

"Use your words, don't go dumb on me just yet." He teased, returning to the slow and downright tortuous pace he'd once been at.

"Yes, I like it, I love it," You stopped yourself from saying something that you'd soon regret, those three words remaining unspoken.

"I know you do." A long and drawn out moan left him, his hand grasping your wrist as he continued to ram into you.

A sudden wave of uncomforted emotion consumed you, thoughts of how close he'd been making you feel queasy. You wanted to get him off, while simultaneously wanting to pull him impossibly closer. You didn't know when he'd feel like this again, so you felt like you were taking this entire situation for granted- but those conflicting thoughts were eating at your very sanity, making his close vicinity unbearable.

Looks like Ghost shared your sentiment, backing away from you and removing his hand from yours. Instead, he looked down towards you as his cock continued to drive in and out of your wet cunt. You hated how he had known how to fuck you just right, making sparks fly within your synapses, always coaxing multiple orgasms from you, he had always known what to do with you.

His ungloved hand reached up to the bottom of his balaclava, and you clearly froze up. You had to be hallucinating, because if just touching him would make you feel so utterly confused, you couldn't even begin to fathom how seeing him would fare.

That cloud of constant anonymity surrounding Ghost made things easier between the two of you. While you had shown and intimated at your true feelings, albeit rare, you have done it before. Typically when seating yourself on his cock wasn't enough, and you had actually wanted to feel something between you two. You couldn't lose that, because then you knew that you'd fall for him, it's already happened, hasn't it?

He pulled the fabric up, acting as a striptease while shallowly thrusting into your heat. He stopped just shy of showing the bridge of his nose, and you turned away before you'd even gotten a glimpse of him. You didn't care how badly you'd wanted to see him, see Simon and not Ghost. You didn't care at all, staring at the bland and blank white walls as you were moved up and down due to his hips colliding against yours.

It was sudden, his bare hand on your face, nearly smooshing your cheeks together, roughly bringing your stare back to him.

"Not a very good listener, are you? Look at me."

Your stare never met his, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes, please, don't make me see you. I don't want to fall in l-

A harsh thrust forced you to meet his gaze, and you felt an odd sense of relief rush through your system as his entire face wasn't exposed. Just the bottom half, which you have seen a few times, in a more clinical setting, of course. He's never shown you himself whilst balls-deep inside of you.

Well, until now, anyway.

"Good." A quick praise that had you melting against his welcomed touch. You were unaccustomed to seeing his lips form the very words he'd said, yet you could watch it all day. He removed his hand from your face, instead tugging at his loose shirt, bringing it to catch on his teeth.

Fuck, that shouldn't be that hot.

His eyes were on your trembling figure, at times glancing down to watch his thick cock disappear inside your greedy pussy. Gripping him in a way that you thought he wouldn't pound into you again, foolishly wrong as his cock returned within your cunt with a low groan. The gauze covering his abdomen following every light twitch from his stomach having you watch with embarrassing intent.

Your thighs burned as they were spread to their limit, one of your hands grabbing at the sheets as your very life depended on it. The the other was clutching tightly at his inked arm, nails biting into the decorated skin, he grunted as your nails raked over his arm, his thrusts halting as he felt his own orgasm creep up on him.

Normally, he would speak during this period, tell you how perfect you were for him. But, he kept quiet, due to the fabric of his shirt in his mouth, or maybe he just wasn't in the mood. You didn't know, you didn't care, you were lost in the way his cock would push right up against that spot that had your vision blacking out. Your own hips lowering to meet his in mutual thrusts, eyes rolling back in pure pleasure and liquid ecstasy shooting through your own spine, every disc lighting up.

Ghost's hot and heavy dick continued to punch into your drooling cunt in such a way that nearly had you bawling. You felt your toes begin to curl as all of the signs were leading up to your own orgasm, something of which you'd been chasing, yet delaying, for you knew that those rose-tinted glasses would shatter.

Again- you didn't care though.

His gloved hand reached to rub at your neglected nub with passion, having a high pitched moan leave your lips. You jerked into his touch, a greedy imploration for more, your body betraying your very mind and virtues.

Your ask hadn't been ignored, the tight circles he drew becoming neater and more attentive to every twitch and move from you. You whimpered his name, feeling his fingers on you and his cock ruin and pick you apart being too much, even for you. You, who had been moulded and formed to his very imprint, wanting and constantly ready for him.

A brush of his fingers and feeling his cock drive into you just right had you sobbing. Your back arching up towards him, your nails making crescent shapes over his exposed and inked skin, as you had finished over his fat cock. He groaned at watching your orgasm wash over you, humming deeply while he witnessed your comeback to the scene. Your sensitive nerves not getting a break as his pace had only hastened, cock driving into you at the most proper and precise angles.

With a huff, his shirt dropped down to its correct spot, hiding his body from you. He groaned as he felt your insides squeeze him with a vice grip. His mouth was agape, stubble framing his jaw beautifully, kissable lips forming a sentence, "He can't fuck you like this. Not like I can. Nobody will ever be able to, because you're mine." His words were rushed, his thrusts becoming sloppy as his cock twitched inside you.

God, you nearly unraveled under him once more at his very words. You already knew who Ghost was speaking of, and no matter how good Price was in bed, he was right, he couldn't fuck you like Ghost could.

You didn't confirm his words, though. You couldn't, because then you'd have to admit he was right, right about you belonging to him. And oh, how you'd wanted that to be a cruel reality, held in his virulent grasp.

You heard his sounds grow in quantity and felt his thrusts quality begin to deteriorate. You knew he'd been close, "Inside, please."

"Not goin' anywhere else."

While fucking Ghost, you quickly learned that he was obsessed with the idea of finishing inside of you. You quickly had to start the pill, lest you wanted to carry his child. You didn't know why he loved it so much, maybe it felt good, maybe the sight of your pussy leaking his cum after being stuffed to the absolute brim was such an arousing sight to behold. But no, it was a means to claim you. To mark you as his in a way that no other would have the ability to.

And he'd do just that, again and again, and again, and again, andagainandagain-

He groaned, such a low and addicting sound as he doubled over you. His cum filled your cunt, his heavy balls slapping against your skin as he continued to fuck his seed back into you, your knuckles blanching at how tightly you had held both the sheets, and Ghost's arm.

The both of you were unmoving, his dick softening inside of you before he'd pulled out. He untangled himself from you, stare stuck on how your abused hole leaked his essence, using his thick fingers to push it back in. You remembered what he'd said before while doing so, 'Not good t'waste,'.

You laid still, regaining your breath as well as your ability to form thoughts while you felt a warm cloth tidy you up. His touch would sometimes linger on you for a moment too long to be considered an accident, yet you'd shake it off and consider it as one.

You clothed yourself, pulling on a set of bottoms, ultimately unnecessary, as the shirt you wore was like a dress on your shorter stature. You don't know how Ghost's article of clothing had ended up in your hands- on your very body nonetheless, his scent embracing you, yet sneering at you, feeling attached?

You checked his wounds and re-bandaged any as necessary, as you were still a doctor, after all. You'd had plenty of things that remained unsaid, to both yourself and to him. You'd wanted to tell him your true emotions towards him, but you were so afraid. Afraid of him, or rejection, or both. It wasn't clear, and it wasn't feasible to build a relationship with a man like him, anyway. With a man so fucked up and broken, incapable of feeling how you felt, even a sliver of it. Is what you had thought, anyway.

Ghost watched as you shoved on a windbreaker in a hurried way, slipping your shoes on as you'd wanted to run. Sprint off into the sunset and forget whatever fucked up relationship was between you and Ghost, if you could even call it such a thing. What the two of you were was truly complex, forever unknowing to you and him. Despite this, he yearned to say a single word to you, a pathetic beg forming in his mind.

He'd wanted you to stay.

#fanfic #smut #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod smut #cod x reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley

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kewpie-aisle · 2 months

Text

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤

pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x gn!reader

notes: suggestive language, mental stripping, general horniness, yoga poses, workout talk, minors do NOT interact pls

wc: 1.5 words

AN: I saw this artwork by @akiisks and every neuron in my brain said, Bo had to be the next installment in the series. Mm mm mm I love ONE owl themed gym bro. banners by @cafekitsune my hero you like what you see series other parts: Atsumu

The gym in the early morning hours was always quiet and peaceful. Majority of the MSBY players preferred evening or late night workouts, considering it a cool down for the day. The early morning hours introduced a peace and lull that was necessary for those that start the day with energy to expend. Calming overactive minds and bodies, both gifts held by the outside hitter of the team.

Bokuto needed the cool down early in the morning, to ease down his energy levels to a “normal person”. That’s what Akaashi has always put in his head since they were younger, unsure what it means but the morning workout is now a routine for the man. As he got older it became an anchor to familiar times which helped him navigate unknown feelings and obstacles; riding through any crashing wave in peace. That peace has recently been shaken up.

Pulling out his headphones, he reaches for the gym door, coming to a halt when the sounds of the room touch his ears. There’s someone else in the gym already. He checks his watch to see it’s 4:30 am. Frustration is what he should feel, with a disturbance in his routine, but he could feel anticipation flush across his face and tickle the tips of his ears with heat. It’s not just someone in there, he had high expectations on who beat him to the gym. With a heavy pull, the door swings wide open and his eyes scan the floor, easily finding the source of the noise. Lo and behold, there you were.

The new MSBY athletic trainer, who had joined a month ago. Clad in fitted black workout gear, long sleeves compression shirt and shorts covering each dip and curve of muscle and skin. Edge of the shorts seamlessly meeting the start of skin down your thighs and shins, glistening in sweat. Bokuto gulped down a lump in his throat, slammed by waves of uncertainty uprooting his anchored mind.

With your headphones on, canceling out all noise in the room, you had missed Bokuto entering. You woke up that morning with more energy than usual. Chalking it up to new hire jitters, but that’s not what it was. Surrounded by players with large egos wasn’t new to you, it came with the territory of being an athletic trainer. Hell, even if you’d stayed in personal training, there’s no escaping the egos of gym bros. Everyone lifts more, knows more, trains better than you. With a smaller stature than most, you’d gone your whole life always being underestimated. Working out had always been a safe relief for pent up frustration and anger, letting you maintain a calm for the rest of the day. A godsent gift in your chosen profession. The MSBY Black Jackals’ team reputation was known far and wide in the industry. The most polite and friendliest team, hungry for growth. The “Eternal Rookies”, a moniker agreed upon by journalists and teammates alike in the volleyball world. It had been just the right move for you, but your professionalism had been shaken up from Day 1, when you met the rising star outside hitter, Bokuto Koutaro.

Most guys that looked like that were always wolves in sheep’s clothing, regardless of team reputation. But Bokuto had surprised you in every area, clumsy yet straightforward and honest. Earnest in practice and a trusted leader during games. Strong and smart but humble and kind. And agonizingly good looking. Work days became an every day battle to not ogle the man every second he was in your sight. Coming to the gym in the morning was your refresher, a clean way to start the day to ensure you're energized throughout. But it seems Bokuto also frequented the morning time, so you had been adjusting to come earlier and earlier to try and avoid him. Waking up at 3 am from a particularly delicious dream, was enough reason to head straight to the gym to clear your head. Taking a quick break you glance up to the mirror to ensure proper stance, eyes widening seeing the very devil from your dream getting off the treadmill and preparing for his routine. Head down, completing incline chest rows, your entire backside on display for Bokuto. He had finished his cardio and started his lat exercises, fortunately unfortunately the machine was positioned to maintain the weights area in direct line of sight. He had wanted to power through his routine, crushing on the trainer was a childish distraction and completely unprofessional. Having childlike fun is one thing, but entering frustrated territory was completely unlike him. The heat that sat in his core, rising up, coating his entire torso in a voracious fire with desire he’d never felt before. He hated it. He’s always been in control of all his emotions and desires, but you shook every semblance of proper thought from his head. Failing miserably at keeping a focused mind, he dove into the siren’s song and watched you closely throughout his workout. Wiping down machines, adjusting weights, huffing through his sets, but eyes trained on your body throughout it all. He had watched you wrap up and make your way to the yoga mats for cool down stretches.

With only a nod of acknowledgement, the two of you hadn’t exchanged any words in the past couple hours of working out. Maintaining distance in balanced routines for the day, a dance playing out in the gym. But the tension was palpable, suffocating in the already stuffy gym air. You watched a bead of sweat drip down his chin into the crevices of his pecs. Wondering if it had traveled down his abs and through the defined v-line you could glimpse every time he raised his arms. You licked your lips in hope for a taste, even if in your imagination. The craving for a taste increased, because you had felt his eyes on you the entire time. Watching every movement, eyeing you from top to bottom and back. You could feel the ghost of his hands running over your body. Leaving behind a tantalizing trail of heat everywhere, yet not placing a single finger on you. As you leaned down into downward dog, Bokuto had stopped to take a water break, eyes washing over your body in haste. A smirk playing on your lips as you feel yourself fall over the edge of your self control. “Bokuto-san, could you help me stretch out my back?”

The last gulp of water catches in his throat, coughing as he averts his eyes. Finally breathing air back into his lungs he turns his attention to the voice calling for him. Headphones now out, he hears you repeat your question, as if it hadn’t been bouncing around the walls of his mind already. His throat somehow dry despite finishing off his entire bottle, he makes his way over. Watching as you adjust yourself into pigeon pose, left leg fully stretched out and right leg folded out and tucked in. Opening up your hips to stretch, you motioned him to push down on your back. Palms on your back he leaned down on you, folding you completely over, without any resistance. Your chest flush against the mat and arms spread out forward. With a slight push up off you, he stands up to watch over your form. Drinking in the ease of your stretch, mind running with other ways he could be folding you to take him in completely. A jolt running right to his core when he meets your eyes to see a flush on your face, still pressed against the mat as you watch him.

“Ya like what you see Bokuto-san?” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. The heat of the room, the thrum of your heart in your ears, blood rushing to multiple places at once, has all your senses on high after your workout. Bokuto’s weight against you had set your entire back on fire, engulfing you completely and you ached to feel him over you again. “My form, it looks ok?” You tease as a flush comes across his face. With a lick of your lips, you roll over, legs spread open wide. “Can you help stretch out my front too...I can fold into another position if you’d like?” The question crashed over Bokuto, anchor ripped out of the ground, untethered and washing away into the depths of the ocean. He closed the distance in a few short steps before pulling you up into him, lips against his in an instant. Tasting you finally, feeling you with his hands, swallowing you completely. His parched throat slowly soothed as he drank you in, the way he needed.

Relentless moans falling out of your lips, echoing in his mind. He looks down at you ruined, but you reach your hands out to wrap around him to bring him closer for more. He closes his eyes to fall right in, a new anchor rooted in your waves pulling him as close to you as possible.

#kewpie writes #hq fic #haikyuu fic #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto koutaro smut #bokuto smut #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #bokuto x gender neutral reader #gn reader #hq series

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444rockstargf · 2 months

Note

OH MY GOD I'M NOT SURE IF U STILL WANT CLYDE REQUESTS BUTBUTBUT!!

like, reader is a part of the little group(?) thinnggg nd reader n clyde kind oofffff don't like each other?? for some reason?? nd it's like enemies to lover's but not cuz it just ends in hate sex but not exactly HATE sex, hrmmnnrmrm.

i don't think this work's with clyde but it could maybe work with charlie toooo maybe?, anyways bye bye!! :3

ahhh! i've never gotten smth like this before im so excited!!

"the bad girl next door." | clyde

dangerous girl. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999@josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl @romanroyapoligist@auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @vanlisbon @lankysimp @livingdead-reilly@imoonkiss @lankysimp@nom-nommmm1@xxbl00d-cl0txx@k1ll3rh0rr0r@wildathevrt@mommymilkers0526

reader x clyde

word count: 1.5k

contents: enemies to lovers, public sex, protected p in v

“hey! watch it!” clyde yelled as the club’s bouncer picked him up and threw him onto the pavement outside of the establishment, another bouncer trailing behind, carrying you and throwing you right on top of him.

“fuck you!” you shouted out as the two large men walked back into the club, slamming the doors with more defiance than necessary. you heard a low groan underneath you, along with his compressed voice. “get off me, bitch.” he muttered. your eyes narrowed and you pushed his head into the rough gravel. “that’s no way to speak to me, druggie.”

he flipped himself over, shoving you off of him and standing up as he dusted himself off. i put his hands on his hips and chewed on his lower lip, looking up at the building in front of him. you got to your feet too, shoving past him and going straight for the door.

he grabbed you by the wrist, his cold gaze making you freeze. “where the hell do you think you’re going? you just got kicked out, genius. you can’t just walk back in there like you own the place.” you rolled your eyes, snatching your wrist out of his grip. “wrong, asshole.” you opened the door, strutting right back inside the club like nothing happened, and that made clyde’s blood boil.

he hated the way you walked over everyone like you ran the town. in his eyes, you were just some entitled brat who was born with a silver spoon in your mouth. it was unusual for him to detest anyone as much as he did you, but what could you say? you were special. and besides, you didn’t like him either. he was brought up by a wealthy family and he threw it all away to pursue a life of freedom and all that other bullshit. you would’ve killed to have a life like his and he didn’t even want it. now that got under your skin.

you waltzed back into the club, sitting down at a stool with the rest of your friends, but the tension thickened as clyde walked up right behind you, sitting a few seats away from you, a raging fire burning in his eyes. for such a “chill” guy, you had no idea how you got him so riled up without even trying.

he flipped you off, ticking you off once again. you stood up, preparing to give you a piece of you mind for the umpteenth time that night until a waiter holding a tray of champagne came out of no where and knocked into you, causing more commotion than you thought was necessary. but it was so damn embarrassing, and you could’ve sworn you heard clyde laugh.

and that’s how you ended up here, in the club’s kitchen washing dishes as punishment for all the trouble you caused. and to make matter’s worse, clyde was there too. since he’d already been kicked out, the owner believed that it would be more than appropriate to have two young delinquents wash dishes during rush hour. and it was all clyde’s fault.

“you missed a spot.” he remarked snidely. you shot him a glare as you scrubbed on a wine glass. like the whore he was, he had stripped down to his tank top, revealing biceps that were more defined than you would ever expect. you looked away from him, trying to avoid any unnecessary interaction with him. you aggressively tried to wash a stain off of the glass, but it wouldn’t budge.

clyde saw you struggling and snuck up behind you, snaking his arms underneath yours and washing the glass with much more care. “you do it like this, you animal.”

you snatched it back from him, placing it on the drying rack and speaking lowly.“you should seriously just leave me alone. i swear it’s like you’re obsessed with me or something.” clyde sneered. “and you should adjust that bra.” your cheeks immediately flushed as you looked down, your tank top having slipped low enough to reveal an unholy amount of cleavage.

you swallowed hard, pulling up your top a little, making your tits bounce slightly. your face burned with a strange attraction bubbling in your gut. clyde leaned on the counter, picking at his fingernails. seeing him in this light was strange. his usually drunk-looking eyes seemed so much livelier. his hair didn’t look as greasy and he had the appearance of effortless attractiveness that most men strived for.

you were never able to deny the “crush” you’d had on him, but you could mask how you went about showing it. so all you could do was long for the day he would pick up on your painfully obvious signs.

“fuckin’ perv…” you muttered under your breath. clyde didn’t say anything to that, but he got up real close to you, making you back away until you were against the cold marble wall. his eyes narrowed, the sexual tension between you two growing to an almost unbearable point.

“i’m a lot of things you fucking brat,” he stuck his pointer finger into your face, “but i will not take such a nasty attitude from a horny bitch like you.” that had done it. your body began to tremble from his condescending stare, and you couldn’t hold yourself back for another second.

you pressed your lips into his, kissing him so hard that his heart nearly stopped. he let out a deep groan from the contact, his hands immediately finding your waist and gripping it firmly. he picked you up, letting your legs wrap around his waist as he set you on the counter, frantically undoing his belt without moving his lips from yours for even a second.

in a matter of seconds, his erect cock sprung out of his pants, slapping your inner thigh and making you shiver. he pulled away from the kiss, panting as he desperately went to remove your shirt. he’d been dying to see your knockers for a long time now, and nothing was holding him back anymore.

he unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the ground and admiring the sight before him. this whole thing would be sweet if his other hand wasn’t digging into your ass, surely drawing blood. but you didn’t care. he spread your legs apart, slipping your panties to the side before spitting on his fingers and roughly shoving them into your tight hole, making a loud moan erupt from your core.

he fingered you with one hand, using the other to whip out a condom from the depths of his pocket and tearing it open with his teeth, turning you on a lot more than that simple action should’ve.

he teased your hole a little more, your sweet, gentle noises softening his heart as he rolled on the condom. he pulled his fingers out of you, looking you deeply in the eyes. “alright, i’m gonna fuck you now, okay? if you feel like chickening out, whine or something like you always do.” he smirked a little before pumping his cock a few times, pushing it in.

you screamed out as he slowly took you inch by inch, your arms wrapping around his neck. there was nothing slow and steady about this. it was heated and rough, his nails digging into your thigh as he began pounding into you, abusing your already-sore little hole.

you put your head in the crook of his neck, biting his shoulder blade as you felt his dick rearranging your guts. you were holding back tears. you had always given him the impression that you could take any dick, no matter the size. but you were quickly doubting your own capabilities.

he rolled his hips into yours, making your irises flip to the back of your head from the ecstatic feeling. he explored your tight, gummy walls, letting out raspy groans as he picked up the pace.

the sound of skin slapping together filled the room, the noise echoing off the polished walls as the screams and cheers from the main club got louder. you couldn’t believe you were doing this, getting your hole banged by the very man you couldn’t stand to be around for more than 2 minutes.

his thumbs reached for your puffy clit, rubbing quick circles onto it and using your cum as lubricant. your screamed, tossing your head back as he brought his lips to your tits and started swirling his tongue around your hard nipples. you were about 2 seconds over the edge, but you didn’t want to seem like a total virgin. however, your stamina ran short as you sobbed out, “c-clyde, i’m so clo-” you were cut off by a whimper that surely tore through the walls of the kitchen. your head fell back, and you felt the condom inside you swell as he filled it up with his hot, sticky cum.

he panted like a starved dog, leaning against the wall for support as he slipped off the condom, tucking his softening dick back into his pants. he caught a glimpse of you pouting as he put it away, so he threw the full condom at you, it landing right on your nose. you swatted it off, laughing as you slapped him on the chest. “fuck you, you dick.” he lightly shoved you away from him, grinning. “gladly.”

author's note: my fics have been way too long lately smh.

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #smut #clyde rory culkin #clyde electrick children #rory culkin clyde #electrick children clyde #lana del rey

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wolven91 · 11 months

Text

Boop To Accept

Gary blinked as the leathery pad of the alien brushed against his nose, compressing it lightly.

"...er?"

"Oh? Did I do it wrong? I'll try again!" said the canid with a concerned tone.

The near-face sized digit pushed gently at his nose again.

When Gary got up this morning with the knowledge he'd be working as a guard for the following week with dangerous species known as canids, or 'Space-Werewolves' as they were known amongst humans, he had assumed it would be a silent and serious affair. He had found himself on a station that had a far higher number of canids than anywhere before, apparently a military waypoint that was located at the centre of a travelling nexus, as such, the enigmatic canids were now a common sight to him.

The canids were separated from the rest of the races of the community, seen as a naturally dangerous or even hostile species. The canids happily avoided involving themselves except to accept work and offer aloof grunts or shakes of their fluffy main. They were the assault troops, soldiers one and all with the natural dangerous biology to assist them in these roles. Long strong legs, ending in lethal black sickle-like claws. Their bodies, whilst covered in a thick pelt that provided some protection in of itself, were made from dense corded muscles that rippled under their pelt. Their arms and hands, like their other limbs; strong and powerful, albeit lacking in grace or dexterity. Finally, atop their bodies, surrounded by a thick mane that was reminiscent of a rockstar’s hair cut, their heads were that of an apex predator. Large pointed ears swivelled and twitched, their eyes practically glowed in low light as they watched and studied all around them. Their muzzles, filled with sharp finger length teeth all finished off with a powerful nose that could track prey for miles.

Now Gary was presented with his first real interaction with one; the nine foot tall canine-esk alien; instead of the cold reception he was expecting, the imposing creature was now bent over with its muzzle in his face after gently 'booping' the bemused Gary, twice in fact.

"Now you!" It said in an out of place, jovial tone and a tilt of its head.

"Me?" Gary asked blankly, confused more than anything else. A roll of its bright yellow eyes, before it explained;

"You humans love booping! Everyone told me so! You boop me now!"

Gary raised a single digit and gingerly pressed the large wet nose.

"Boooop?"

A sudden rapid thumping came from the room they were guarding, Gary was on alert immediately, hoisting his weapon, until he noticed the tail of the canid wagging vigorously, slapping the door and wall.

"Now human is pack bonded for life." that canid stated, straightening back upright so he was staring at her midriff.

"Wait, what?" He asked, screwing his face up as he craned his back to look up at her face, which was grinning widely.

"Human is pack now. The ancient ritual is complete. Human will join pack when we leave." She confirmed with a quick and resolute nod.

Gary was about to argue this statement, until he thought about it. He didn't have any other work right now... maybe he could follow them around for a bit? He’d sleep on it, if he didn’t want to ‘join’ them, he’d let them know tomorrow.

=== * ===

Gary was getting nervous now.

The giant humanoid wolf thing was serious.

When he had laughed in good humour, it looked at him in great confusion, tilting and holding its head at an angle in confusion, before turning and tilting the other way.

It was several hours later and the contract was complete. He's been paid and was a free agent again, but when he got back to his temporary quarters he had a prerecorded message waiting for him.

It was a different canid, this one with caramel highlights instead of the silvery grey of the elder creature. It informed him that he was to be 'retrieved'.

'..the hell does that mean?' He thought to himself before the thin metal door was slammed into. Something was shuffling outside, several ‘somethings’ by the sounds of it. The man kept the door in front of him as he quietly backed up away from it. There was some scrabbling at the edge of the sealed door, as if whatever was on the other side of the locked door was looking for a way to pull it open.

It was hydraulically locked, surely whatever it was couldn’t force it open. Only station security had the clearance to override personal quarter locks. He was safe, he was going to be oka- When the clawed fingertips dragged the pneumatic door open a fraction causing it to squeal and groan in protest, Gary’s face drained of all colour.

A single intense golden iris stared at him from the tiny created crack between the door and its frame. Several others appeared up and down the new opening with various shades and hues all glowing, all locked on him.

He felt hunted.

Gary turned from the door and immediately jumped up and grabbed the vent covering that was on the opposite wall. It held for a moment before bending and pulling away. Thanks to humanity’s rough start, even human still alive had undergone training. One was to ensure there was always an escape, always an out to avoid being captured or killed. One of the first things Gary had done when he was assigned his quarters was ensure that the vent was large enough for him to escape into if the need called for it.

With a wail of bending metal, Gary fell onto his back and threw the warped vent cover to the side. With a regretful backwards glance he saw several sets of hands/paws clawing at the door and frame leaving gouges in the material as they visibly pulled and yanks at it. The gap had got larger already.

He grabbed the edge of the vent opening and pulled himself up into it.

Not a second later the front door gave up with the sound of rending metal and a swell of howls, yips and growls.

He frantically scrabbled forwards, deeper into the vent as the hairs on the back of his legs sensed the danger behind him.

Something grabbed ahold of a boot and without hesitation yanked him backwards.

He tried to grip the sides of the tiny vent space to arrest his doom while wiggling his foot to lose the boot and save himself.

Mercifully, when he had gotten home and was listening to the message he had undone the laces, intending to wear more comfortable clothing over the evening. His foot slid free and he wasted no time, crawling forwards as he retreated in deeper, chased by howls and snuffling of a threat he didn't have the space or want to see.

The hunt was on.

===*===

Gary continued to crawl through the maze of shafts and tunnels that made up the ventilation system of the station. He was reminded all too well of some of his worst jobs as he progressed in the past. At least it wasn’t a sewer.

At the moment, his plan was distance from the immediate threat and getting a sitrep of the situation. Someone had to know what was going on and how to get the canids off of his tail.

His commutator going off startled the man, banging the back of his head against the metal with a dull ‘thump’. Answering it, he heard the voice of a friend.

"Gary! What the fuck is going on?! You got every canid on the station looking all over for you! They're asking after you in roaming packs!"

"What did you tell them?" Gary asked in a breathless voice, grunting as he continued to creep his way through the narrow space, his arms and legs were covered in a thick dust now.

"They haven't spoken to me yet, you know me, I prefer to stay in my little cubby hole and watch."

Mar’in, a taurian, Gary's friend, was far less confrontational than Gary, but he took to surveillance like a fish to water. More than once had Mar’in pulled Gary's arse from the fire and it was shaping up that he'd do it again.

He was likely to be in his home, surrounded by the various screens and monitors that he'd long since set up by the time Gary had taken the guard contract on the station. He didn't know how Mar’in had set up his system so he could see every camera on the station, but it was going to be invaluable now.

"So how and more importantly; why and how did you scuff their horns? These things are serious." Alien sayings sometimes took Gary a moment or two to make the connection, but with taurian’s their horns were very special to them. To insult or even touch the horns that grew from their forehead wasa sure fire way of getting a punch to the mouth.

"I 'booped' their fucking 'snoot' man." Gary explained, unsure how else to put it.

A moment of silence hung over the line. Even Gary paused his crawling.

"Do you want to run that by me again?"

"I don't know, but pressing their snout and saying 'boop' is on par with a contract or some ancient ritual, now they're 'retrieving' me."

An absent 'huh' came over the radio.

"Look, I need an out, can you help?"

"I can get you to the hanger, but I can't be helping you steal something. Where are you?"

"Thats fair, I'm in a vent, moving away from my room."

Clacking of keys replaced silence as Martin concentrated, before the man started laughing to himself.

"I've got a system alert to a blockage in the ventilation, ways organic with an 'effluents or excretions' marker. The system thinks you're-!"

“Will you shut it!” Gary snapped as he grunted. he was forced to invert himself to descend a drop by pushing his back against a wall to stop him falling.

"I think... argh... the system... fuck... is-.."

"Take a descending path at the junction you're about to drop into."

A pause.

"They've raided your closet."

"Wat."

"I've got a smaller group of the canids on cams; they're sniffing a boot, I'm assuming it's yours? They're passing it around, they're all getting a good swiff... weird."

"Yeah, I was wearing it. They've got a fresh scent then, anywhere I've been; they'll search."

Gary was able to move quicker now, the shafts he was in were larger, able to allow him to crawl in his hands and knees rather than his stomach. He continued to move following Mar’in's instructions. He had to stop once when he could hear a commotion outside one of the vent covers he was about to pass by. Peeking around he saw large black claws attached to pitch black fur covered paws.

He whipped his head back just in time to hear familiar sniffing and snuffling. A gravelly tone spoke out; "He's close!"

This wasn't what made Gary shiver, it was the actual goddamned howls that echoed through the nearby vent, which were answered moments later by returned, more distant howls echoing through the shafts. It was eerie, and called back to a very old instinct of wolves in a dark forest many centuries back.

Gary reached the Hanger and found, through a stroke of luck the vent that he had made it to was in a quiet corner behind crates and boxes of a varied sort. Mar’in was a wizard and a saint, like usual. Gary would try and find him some original Earth Whiskey if he had to, to repay this.

His thoughts were interrupted however as all of a sudden there was a commotion over the radio.

Mar’in yelled, and there was a scuffle. Mar’in's voice was distant now, as if the headset he had been using had been removed, but Gary could hear what was happening in his distant room.

"You! You smell of him! Tell me where he is!" The 's' was drawn out that struck Gary as almost blood thirsty.

"Get fucked!" Mar’in shouted defiantly. A meaty 'thump' was broadcast before a riot broke out over the line. Gary knew better than to shout out, Mar’in could handle himself, he wasn’t at all like the demure male taurians from the rest of the galaxy and would give as good as he got.

In rapid order however, Gary could hear his friend grunting and swearing up a storm with rage filled indignation. The bloodthirsty voice returned, still distant, but the same volume as Mar’in making Gary believe that they were at least next to each other.

“We will lock down the station until our pack member is found…”

"Gary! Go now!" Mar’in bellowed.

The human needed no further prompt and gave a swift kick to the vent cover. His sprint from behind the crate was unmolested and he aimed towards a large dangerous looking ship that had its ramp open and seemed flight ready.

'They can bill me!' Gary thought to himself as he scrambled aboard, unaware of who the owner was. The thing was deserted, he ended up standing in front of the oversized pilot seat and began flipping the switches needed to make a hasty getaway. Most crafts, especially ones of Galactic Community design had very similar if not exact same designs overall. Whoever owned this, was part of the Community.

A low growl filled the cockpit, freezing Gary’s blood.

Gary stopped with his finger frozen over the last few dials he needed to adjust that prevented him from leaving.

"Worthy indeed...." the towering space werewolf growled from the cockpit entrance.

It was the caramel coloured one from the message in his quarters. It stood a good nine feet tall and was currently blocking his only escape. It crouched low, extending its arms out to the side, obsidian claws glinting in the artificial light. There was no easy way past and the cockpit only had one way in and one way out.

It yawned slowly, only it struck Gary that it wasn't yawning, it was coiling to attack.

This realisation saved him, for the next moment it lunged forward with deadly intent in its eyes. He threw himself low and avoided a heavy mass of muscle, fur and teeth as it sailed over head and landed roughly against the console.

By the time the man was on his feet once more however, she was on him. He pushed forward to run, but jaws clamped down from the crook of his neck, down across his chest. He expected teeth to pierce into him, but they merely held him in place as she bodily lifted him up and over with the strength of her neck alone, until he was thrown down against the metal floor with a resounding clang.

Pushing himself to his knees, the wind knocked from him, something heavy and warm straddled him from behind and crouched low, forcing him to stay on his hands and knees, wrapping a set of strong arms around his torso. Those arms held him against the canid that had defeated him in a single move. It panted from behind his head, it’s chest breathing in and out pressing against his back.

“Haa… when our leader had said that she had smelt a worthy addition to the pack, we doubted.”

A muzzle appeared from behind Gary’s head, its whiskers tickling his ear as it spoke slowly and menacingly.

“Resourceful, quick, the only reason you failed was that you were cornered. Worthy, indeed.”

A thick broad tongue drew itself across the side of Gary’s face, wicking the sweat away from him.

“Your choice, join us or not, we wished to test and you nearly bested the whole clan. Stories will be told about this day, but I would say… you will do well with us human…”

Goosebumps had covered the human from head to toe, so when the canid released him and stalked from the room, Gary remained knelt there on the cockpit floor. Looking up, he watched as she sashayed from the room, casting a glance and a wink over her shoulder before disappearing from view.

“What.. the f-”

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #canid #hfy #haso

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polyklok · 8 months

Note

Hi! What's your HC for how each band member (and Charles too, if you can) would be like on their wedding day?

Ohmygosh I am such a sap, I’m having way too much fun with this prompt and I haven’t even started writing yet!

The Wedding Day

Nathan Explosion

Leading up to the day, Nathan becomes more and more of a nervous wreck. He’s terrified of something going wrong, the day being completely ruined and you leaving him forever because of it. No matter how much you reassure him that you plan to marry him no matter what, he is dead set on making sure that the wedding will be perfect and that you’ll have the best day of your life. While metal and brutality are what he strives for most, he also has a sense of traditionalism that seeps into the wedding plans. He talks to his parents a lot during the whole process.

The morning of, he wakes up and is suddenly calm about the whole ordeal. His chest is bubbling with giddiness and he has a small smile that he can’t wipe off of his face as he begins to get ready. He’s excited to see you, to say his vows and to hear yours and put rings on each others fingers and become officially married. The word sounds really good to him.

Dethklok are his groomsmen, with Pickles as his best man. You’ve already been in their favor for a long time, so they’re equally excited on Nathan’s behalf. The dressing room is loud and crowded, but he lets the chaos roll off his back as he thinks about spending the rest of his life with you.

Eventually, he’s suited up and the guests have poured in. Shortly before the ceremony, he’s with his dad, who is making small adjustments to Nathan’s appearance and pumping him up for finalizing the greatest decision he’ll ever make.

“Ready, son? This is it.”

“Fuck yeah.”

The ceremony is fairly large; Klokateers line the walls, he’s facing all the friends and family that could’ve possibly been invited, his bandmates are behind him. But he’s only wanting to see you. He can’t possibly take much longer, he feels like the butterflies are gonna rip out of his gut and start devouring the guests. Suddenly, music starts playing, and he laser-focuses on the aisle.

You’re gorgeous. Everything about you; perfect. You’re glowing from the inside-out. Nathan doesn’t even notice the hot tears that begin to stream down his face, he’s entranced. As soon as you reach him, he takes your hand into his and squeezes them like he’ll never let go. His lips move like he wants to say something, but he simply cannot find the words to describe how brutally in-love he is. His head is dizzy with happiness.

He doesn’t even hear what the officiant is saying. When the time for vows come he just…shakes his head, keeping eye contact with you. You giggle, the guests chuckle. Don’t worry, you’ll get to see what he had planned to say later, and it’s very sweet. But Nathan can’t bring himself to say a whole speech right now. He just wants to kiss you.

And, boy, does he kiss you! Nathan’s kiss is hot and passionate and you feel like you would fall off the edge of the world if it weren’t for his right grasp. Nathan feels a lot of intense emotions, many of which he keeps bottled up. But when he kisses you on your wedding day, you can suddenly feel all of them and it’s wonderful.

After the ceremony, Nathan is thrilled to be married to you, it’s adorable. He does his best to compress it down for pictures, purely for image’s sake (these are the photos that are gonna be shared publicly, after all). In most photos, he holding you with his signature pissed-off expression. But there’s a few with a glimpse of his eager smile.

After photos? He’s completely loose. Nathan is an absolute goofball when in the right mood, and being married to the person he loves most definitely does the trick. He stuffs his face, drinks a drink or three, laughs loudly at Pickles’ best man speech, and doesn’t even complain when his parents embarrass the hell out of him.

The dance you two share is a bit clumsy, his feet taking random steps as he presses his forehead into yours. You both incomprehensibly compliment each other and exchange various, “I love you”s. But none of it needs to be said; Staring in each other’s eyes like this already makes it the best day of your life.

Soon after the height of the party, Nathan gives a half-assed goodbye to his band and his parents in order to drag you to the limo that’s already waiting outside, getting an early start on your honeymoon.

Pickles the Drummer

I’ll be honest; Pickles is not sure if this whole thing was ever a good idea. His proposal was last-minute and completely unplanned. He is constantly changing his mind, keeping you on edge. One minute, he’s infatuated with the idea of holy matrimony. The next, he’s saying he just wants to get hitched in Vegas. The next, he‘s calling the whole thing off. He knows that he loves you and he wants you to be happy but…it’s a big commitment. Especially for someone like Pickles. Please be patient with him.

But the date, despite the pushbacks, finally arrives. He hardly sleeps the night before. He convinces you to stay with him until the last minute, afraid he’s gonna scare himself into running off. He lays in bed for a solid hour after waking up, just letting your sleeping form cling to him. He desperately wants a drink and he hates himself for it. The only thing keeping him from spiraling is your warm weight and the pace of your breathing.

The morning is slow and heavy as the two of you get ready. You ask him a few times if he’s okay and he always says “Yeh, ‘m gud” despite the look on his face; scared and unfocused. You don’t push it. Instead, you give him a kiss on the cheek before you leave to get into your outfit.

Despite the coaxing from you and Dethklok and even Charles; Pickles had invited his family, at the very last second he possibly could have. And they show up pissed. His father is silently judgmental, his mother is nagging, and his brother is all kinds of rude. The ceremony hasn’t even started but they’re already on his ass about everything they can think of. He’s nauseous with anxiety, desperately trying to block out their voices. Nathan has to drag them away when Seth makes on a comment on you, seeing how Pickles was one second away from beating the shit out of him again.

So his wedding starts with Pickles in a miserable mood. He just wants the day to be over. He’s at the altar, avoiding eye contact with his mom and sweating bullets. When you do finally make your way down the aisle, he gives you a small smile. He feels guilty for being so overwhelmed with dread rather than happiness. At the very least, he does think you look amazing, even if it’s hard to tell beneath his unease.

You can see him shaking, trying hard to not hyperventilate. When the officiant asks if anyone objects, he squeezes your hands and his eyes dart over to his family. Luckily, they stay silent. And so, you’re married. Once Pickles kisses you, there a small moment where he’s calm again. He’s attached to you by the lips, the warm sensation of love pouring over him, the same love that made him propose in the first place.

Until it ends. He suddenly hears the cheering, realizes that the two of you are surrounded by people and he immediately looks to his parents, mortified by their unimpressed faces. You take his hand with you, back down the aisle as he stutters an apology for looking like an idiot.

But you don’t go back to the dressing room. Instead, you drag him right out of the venue and push him into a car.

“Wha’dder doin, babe?”

“Getting you outta here.”

You ditch the wedding. You’re already married, there’s no point in staying there just so he can stew in his anxiety. For a few moments of the car ride, he still afraid that you’re mad at him for not being more enthusiastic about the ceremony. But he eventually relaxes and thanks you, at ease for the first time in weeks. Later, there will be a huge freak out and Charles will berate you for leaving so suddenly. But right now, you pick up some fast food and hit up a random park. The two of you take some edibles he conveniently had in his suit pocket and spend the rest of the night eating and cuddling under the moonlight.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

The day Skwisgaar proposed to you was magical. It was romantic, it was beautiful, he was vulnerable and extremely sweet. After? Nothing. He was still your Skwisgaar, affectionate with you and ever-so-slightly teasing. There were no changes to him. But he had practically no involvement in the wedding planning, never even brought it up. When you asked for his input on something, he always told you do to do what you want. Even on inviting his mother;

“If you thinks she shoulds be theres.”

The only thing he actively contributed was picking his clean, white suit, which Charles had to nag him into doing last minute. The night before, you asked if he even wanted to do it at all, since he was so aloof about it. He gave you a simple,

“Ofs course I does.”

The day comes. Skwisgaar wakes up with a heavy weight on his chest. He really does want to marry you. He’s changed a lot about himself and his lifestyle in order to be committed to you, and he is happy about it. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, better than the thousands of groupies he used to occupy himself with. But the word ‘Husband’ used to be something to mock in his eyes, a lame dildo who’s given up in life and probably isn’t even happy. But that’s about to be him, your husband. He isn’t upset, but it’s a strange thing to become someone you once despised.

So, as he gets ready and as his groomsmen tease him mercilessly for his dedication to you, he’s quiet and neutral. Even for Dethklok, it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling at he moment, but he shows no signs of backing out, so they continue on.

Once he’s in position, Skwisgaar sees what you’ve been working on for the past several months. And it’s gorgeous, you did a wonderful job. The guest list was very minimal, a detail he greatly appreciates. He briefly scans over them, but stops once he spots blonde hair the same color as his own. Then, he focuses on the aisle, waiting for you, keeping his head clear from the awful clouds of thoughts that he doesn’t want to hear right now.

You walk down, the two of you make hard, intimate eye contact. His first thought is that you are the most beautiful anyone has ever been, especially for him, and he can’t believe you’re real. His second thought is how wonderful you’d look if all the clothing were to be removed. His third thought is praying that the intense ache on his eyes don’t spill over into tears.

He says his vows quietly, speaking to you in a hushed tone. He couldn’t care less about the small crowd watching him as his life permanently changes, he prefers if they didn’t hear him anyway. This is for you and him exclusively. And when he kisses you…

Skwisgaar has a horrible tendency to always leave you wanting for more. He’s an absolutely addictive kisser and it’s completely unfair to you. Your wedding kiss is no different. He gives a light chuckle when you follow his lips as he pulls away. He decides to keep the gesture quite conservative for now. Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty more later.

From then on, he’s attached to you. He doesn’t leave your side for a second, completely ignoring the guests just to stare at you with a refreshing, loving gaze in his eyes. While drinking champagne, cutting the cake, listening to speeches; you’re the only thing occupying his world that day.

He says very little until your first dance, in which he thanks you for all the work you put in. But really, he would’ve been happy next to a dumpster. He leans his close, lips grazing your ear, and whispers exactly how he’s going to thank you later when the two of you are alone. Even as your husband, Skwisgaar is a man of seduction and absolute tease.

Toki Wartooth

He bought a ring, like, a month into seeing you and had to be tied down by Charles just so he wouldn’t immediately propose. Toki LOVES the idea of marriage and goes to ask you as soon as his manager is sure that you won’t accidentally tear apart the band. There are no words to describe how absolutely giddy he is to be your husband, he counts down the days every single morning.

Unfortunately, he’s sort of awful at planning. He has so many ideas that are a messy collision of traditional, brutal, and decora aesthetics and he’s constantly spouting them off to you. It’s gonna take a while to find some balance so your wedding doesn’t immediately cause a seizure to anyone in the vicinity. The day before, he gives you hundreds of kisses, squealing and giggling about how happy he is and how wonderful it’s all going to be.

The two of you separate that night, wanting to get ready individually so you can do a ‘first-look’ before the ceremony. Unfortunately, it has been a very long time before Toki has had to sleep in a bed without you and he is forced to remember how cold it can be. He barely sleeps, staring at the ceiling, desperately missing you as his heart pounds with anticipation to marry you.

Turns out, not sleeping before your wedding day isn’t a great idea. The entire morning, he’s sporadically dozing off, needing to be herded around by Dethklok so he can get ready. The whole day is spent with him either smiling like a huge goofball or half-asleep as he showers, eats breakfast, gets his hair done, and suits up.

At some point, he hears that his parent/s didn’t actually show up, despite being invited. His chest buzzes with the usual strange feelings he gets whenever talking about his family, but he pushes foreword. Never was there a groom so determined.

As he waits at the alter, he’s bouncing on his heels, fidgeting with his hands, grinning so hard his face hurts. He’s dreamed about his wedding day for years and years, in love with his soon-to-be spouse before he even met you, and the best moment of his life is mere seconds away from happening. What would happen next, after his happily-ever-after? He doesn’t know, but he’s happy to spend it with you.

And here you come. The music plays, you walk down the aisle…Toki is easily prone to sobbing, but he has never ‘happy-cried’ until this moment. It’s almost concerning, how shaky he is with pure, unfiltered joy. The last thing you need is for your husband to spontaneously combust.

While Toki had put a lot of thought and effort into writing his vows, they’re practically out the window. He slips in a few preplanned lines, but he mostly rambles about how glorious being in love is and how wonderful you are, slipping between Norwegian and English and laughing at himself the whole way through. It’s a messy speech, but it’s one full of passion.

He kisses you a minimum of three times, each more lovely than the last as your guests clap and cheer. You’re lifted and twirled all the way to the car meant to take you to the reception, squeezed into the back seat as he attacks you with affection.

At this point, Toki had been running on adrenaline and very short power-naps the entire day. He’s still flooded with delight to finally, officially, be yours but he has never been one to run well on sleep deprivation. His head slowly leans into your collarbone, humming through his comfortable smile and looking up at you lovingly with half-shut eyes.

“Toki, are you alright?”

“Pers-fect.”

He yawns through his words, half-heartedly insisting that he can enjoy the rest of the evening just fine but not objecting when you tell the driver to just head to the hotel and tell Charles about the change of plans. It’s not long before the both of you are passed out and tangled within each other, your outfits only half-removed before the sun has even set.

William Murderface

William had never thought he’d get married. At some points, he thought that love was simply not for him, that he was forever to be unwanted. But even has you entered his life, took over his heart and made him realize that he was worth something…it still never crossed his mind. It seemed like something that cliché assholes do just to prove a point. It took a lot of work from the both of you for him to truly believe that you cared; what did a dumb certificate have to prove after all this time?

Several years into your relationship, and the two of you have fallen into a comfy routine, both brutally thrilling and cozily domestic. He’s not only in love, but living in long-term happiness. It’s bliss. Until, at some social event that he was only attending out of requirement, some random dildo insists that it’s really about the time you two get married.

You laugh it off and Murderface promptly tells the guy to suck his dick, mostly out of instinct. But later, when you’ve practically forgotten, the concept is still on William’s mind. Was it about that time? Would two little rings really transform his relationship, one of the greatest things to ever happen to him, to something more sacred? Did you want to? You seemed to brush it away so easily earlier…would you not be willing to marry him?

You notice his behavior change over the course of a few days, clearly pondering something deeply but unwilling to tell you what. It isn’t until a very late night, when you’re already in bed with him, eyes closed and brain only half-on;

“Would you wanna get married?”

“What?”

“To me. If I aschked, would you schay yesch and marry me?”

“Sure, Hun. I’ll marry you.”

Two weeks later, he is stationed in the middle of Mordhaus’ living room, wearing clothes that are only slightly nicer than his usual.

Pickles, once again, asks him if he’s only doing this to prove some dumb point. William, once again, tells Pickles to fuck off. Nathan, as his best man, pokes him in the back and says he could’ve made the ceremony a bit nicer at the very least. William insists that the both of you liked this way best.

Skwisgaar is lounged on the couch, guitar in lap as he begins to strum the first song that comes to mind. Toki enters and haphazardly throws around some rice he recently hijacked from the kitchen. You follow, also in slightly-nicer-clothing, and holding one of Murderface’s many knives rather than a bouquet. The smile on your face is the brightest he’s ever seen and everything feels right to him.

Charles reads from a document he had just printed out that morning. With you looking into his eyes at this very moment, William is baffled at how he could’ve possibly waited this long to do the bare minimum of marrying you. Because he wouldn’t want it any other way. With Charles’ short, law-required speech done, he declares the two of you a wedded couple.

The kiss is intense, wrapped fully into each other as the commitment is finalized. There’s a brief amount of clapping from Dethklok and the surrounding Klokateers, but the celebrations last less than an hour before you and Murderface are shoved onto a plane for your honeymoon.

The first few days in Las Vegas are a blur of alcohol, drugs, gambling, and intense sex. The next few days are spent with long, romantic moments, intimate conversations, sensual cuddling and…still lots of sex. William practically melts every time you acknowledge him as your new husband.

It was rushed, it was messy, it resulted in rice being vacuumed out of the living room carpet for months and the biggest blackout of your life…but your wedding day was nothing short of perfect.

Bonus: Charles

I’m doing a rush job of this because I’m still not 100% sold on his businussy

I think you would originally get married in bare-minimal circumstances, probably for potential tax benefits or political reasons. Either way, he slips a plain band ring on your finger and gives you a brief kiss. It’s less than a romantic gesture and more like a business deal.

Later on, as the two of you grew closer than he has with anybody else, he realizes just how improper your official wedding really was. So he conducts that a proper one be planned. It’s much more extravagant and he splurges to make sure you get everything you want.

That’s all I have to say about that it is 3 Am I am so sorry offdensen simps love you

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ikinremu · 7 months

Text

KINKTOBER DAY 14: John Shelby x Face Fucking

Backchat

John Shelby x Fem!Reader

Tags: Oral (M receiving), praise

You and John Shelby couldn't be further from strangers, and you were certainly no stranger to the petty arguments you shared - besides, the many of unfathomably low significance typically ended the same way; anything of a sexual nature.

And that was today's case. Stood, rather distantly, arms crossed, bickering with the stocky man inside an otherwise vacant, somewhat compact workspace.

"John, I'm just tired, alright?" You so heavily exhaled, delivery far more venomous than the context itself, "You don't need to get so indignant about it."

Blatantly brazen, he scoffed, "You really think I'm being indignant?"

"Yes," You practically huffed out, humidity shooting from your gently parted lips, "But I really can't be bothered to talk to you about this."

"I was just trying to cheer you up."

Truthfully, you couldn't even recall what had initiated such trivial bickering - it was rather an ongoing cycle by this point.

"Alright, well, I never asked you to do that." The quick-spoken, quite lethal words were beyond mindless, you were really just speaking to speak - not truly believing what came out.

With a razor-sharp, cavernous inhale, John so heavily scoffed - and you didn't blame him.

"What's all this backchat, eh?" He inquired, "Should put that mouth to better use."

In theory, your eyebrows shot unsettlingly high, your lips sprayed a vicious, squabble-ending retort and you stormed off - though as he suddenly, possessively stepped nearer, you simply couldn't find it anywhere within yourself to do so. You were helplessly compelled to forgo.

Honestly, it was incredibly typical for the pair of you. You were never remotely dismayed with the conclusion these irrelevant quarrels were drawn to: you both realised - whatever the case - that it was mind-numbingly dull and discovered a far better, far more fulfilling use of your shared time.

Suddenly, his wonderfully warm, blissfully soft skin grazed the gentle, familiar surface of your own, pinkish lips briskly brushing over yours. Skilfully enough, John reduced his thick voice to a mere sultry whisper, "On your knees."

Rather shamelessly, you found yourself complying, so abruptly - so mercilessly - eager to feel him, to taste him. All of him.

His mouth stretched to an enormously complacent, all too recognisable grin as he both slowly and kindly swept a momentary stroke over your reddening cheek. Granting you a sweet, fragile peck atop the forehead, he inched slightly closer, thick digits unwinding his buckled trousers.

"Open." He ordered - though there was a clear lenience to his tone.

Upon your jaw's rapid unclenching, John eased himself in, vacating the sodden warmth between your lips. His raw, thick length slid onto your expectant tongue, shaft softly pulsing within your ravenously latched mouth.

A stomach-tingling, undeniably weighty groan escaped the man as he suddenly snaked a large, quite stony hand atop your bobbing head - largely splaying his fingers over your scalp, your hunger engulfing his throbbing tip.

"Fuck.." John heaved, pre-cum leaking length twitching within the flawless, skilful swirls of your tongue.

Stomach pooling with a - beyond - deep, humming heat, you rhythmically glided your mouth up and down his quivering cock, further yearning for his familiar taste.

Drool coated the very brinks of your inner-lips, thin, gradual drips running down the motions of your chin as your tongue tantalised the now relentlessly convulsing head of his cock.

"Shit," He grunted, "Just like that."

Undeniably fuelled by the low, pleasured extractions, you heightened each infliction - tongue's pace quickening as you further submerged his convulsing cock within your gliding mouth.

"Fuckin' hell." John wavered, thick fingers caressing your hair as you - quite abysmally - attempted to compress your creeping smugness.

His bare, firm length twitched against your tongue, gloriously sliding your ravenous mouth over his shaft - earning the deepest, gruffest groan yet.

An abrupt burst of hot, pale ribbons painted your rapidly stroking tongue, John’s raw shaft helplessly spasming against it.

"Fuck," He groaned, "Swallow for me. That’s my fuckin’ girl.”

With a swift, merely singular gulp, you rid your tastebuds of the warm, salty substance - mouth parting from its previous fulfilment.

In a hurried fluster of pants, John uttered an overwhelmingly breathy statement - one that was frankly rather agreeable, “Shit, much prefer that to whatever the fuck we were on about.”

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the asks feature on my page for requests of oneshots/drabbles/blurbs etc.. would be greatly appreciated, though I will be responding to them after kinktober since i’m doing the full month! <3

#smut #smutty #kinktober #kinktober list #drabbles #oneshot #peaky blinders #peaky blinders smut #john shelby #john shelby smut

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