#How much counter space do you people have

[animentality]

I know x reader fans have always existed, and I don't generally mind them.

however I feel like the way they've overtaken fandom analysis/ shipping culture is an indication of the general decline of fandom communities.

they are normies, guys. I'm sorry.

it's not a slur, it's just a fact.

normies infiltrated fandom spaces because of covid.

they come in and just want to thirst after a particular character... and that's like. fine. of course it's fine it's always happened.

but they don't seem to actually care about the character being in character. nor does it really require any analysis of that character's motivations or story, or their relationship with others.

I know not everything HAS to relate to canon. like duh, we are here to make our own canon.

but come the fuck on. I go into a tag and it has a character tagged being some dommy daddy when that character is nothing like that in canon... and there's this line between making a character act a certain way bc that's your fetish, and completely ignoring who that character is entirely to the point where you could just replace their name with anyone else in any other show, and it wouldn't make a difference?

like that's... normie shit. it's people who do not think deeply or passionately about that media, it's just them having this surface level grasp of the physical attractiveness of the character.

and again. I'm not saying these people are stupid or whatever, just that the overabundance of this watered down ass content is an indicator of how much fandom has changed.

fans are not the socially awkward introverted queer voyeurs anymore, who enjoy fantasies and daydreaming about being someone else because of this disconnect with the self, or this fear of others that leads you to seek human connection in fiction.

they're the people who do just fine with other people ... and I'm not gatekeeping fandom from people who aren't socially awkward or anything.

but they come here, and they do shit like say you can't like this ship bc it's morally wrong .. you're not allowed to thirst after an 18 year old that makes you a pedophile... I'm 15 and I'm allowed to lust for Gojo but you a 25 year old woman, aren't allowed to write itafushi fanfiction.

go back to taxes and your job!!!

like that drives me fucking insane. these people want to insist they're not normies but they then go around insisting that being over 20 means you need to Work and Be a Normal Adult... bitch.

adults make fandoms. not you fucking children. you don't know how to build communities, you barely know how to make friends.

attacking people who like the same thing you do? is that what you think community building is?

oh this poor generation. anyway.

they come here and are disgusted by weird fetishes and obsessions. and by people sharing sexual headcanons or ideas about sexuality that make them uncomfortable because they've never ever been counter culture, they've never felt the need to go against the status quo.

they're cis straight girls/women mostly, whose mothers basically fuel the ya spicy romance booktok industry.

they're just younger and think it's trendier to be "in a fandom" than a fucking book club.

they're modern day bodice ripper fans... which again

would be so fucking fine, if they weren't doing the youth version of karening the fuck out.

and flooding the fandom with both hyper criticism of how you conduct your business AND an aggressive market for just imagining yourself with a character.

like fandom was originally just hyper passionate freaks.

they discussed movies and TV shows like life and death. they were fucking nuts but in the way where they needed to seek one another out, to share in this joyous sensation of being a freak obsessed with something beyond the point of reason.

now?

now it's like ... oh.

Sally from Bio thinks your love of Gaara is super creepy when you're 19. like what, are you a pedophile? why are you imagining him getting married to Naruto? are you a fucking pedophile who gets off to teens making out? they need to check your hard drive!!

like ok Sally.

ok.

I just think x reader is such a strong indicator of what kind of fan you are.

and if a fandom is mostly x reader... then it can't be that popular. it can't be a proper community.

how can it be?

it's as watered down and generic and bland as a marvel movie. it's stripped down of anything unique. it is pruned of controversy and humanity.

you are literally stripping yourself down into a non character.

you're not truly projecting yourself into a character, because the you that you read about is nothing. a placeholder. you are a passive observing robot who exists only in the form of a faceless and personality less entity.

and I don't get it.

what's the point then?

isn't fiction about realizing something about yourself or others

if your only manner of engaging is stripping yourself of personality... is it engagement at all?

or is it just more mindless consumption?

just watch law and order, man.

watch the good doctor or some shit on lifetime.

there's shows with passionate fanbases who theory craft and endlessly obsess with relationships and world building, and then there's shows with x reader only content and you know exactly why now.

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter twenty-eight: The Weight of Silence

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

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Series Masterlist

The world moved on.

The guests at the masquerade spoke of the Panther Mask in hushed tones for no longer than a night. By morning, his name was nothing more than a fleeting thought, an unspoken reminder of what happened to those who stepped out of line.

No one asked where he had gone.

No one wanted to know.

You sat in front of the vanity in the bathroom, staring at your reflection in the dim light. The space was quiet, save for the soft hum of the ventilation system, the faint sound of the ocean crashing against the cliffs outside. Your mask lay discarded on the counter beside you, a cracked reminder of the night before. The adrenaline had long since faded, but the memory of the Panther’s grip on you still lingered like a bruise beneath your skin.

He was gone. You knew that much. But the how—the when—the where—those were things you weren’t sure you wanted the answers to.

The faucet dripped. A slow, steady rhythm. You focused on that sound, grounding yourself in the monotony of it, in the certainty that water would keep falling, that the world would keep moving, regardless of what had just happened.

A soft creak of the bedroom door beyond the bathroom made you stiffen slightly. You already knew who it was.

A moment later, the bathroom door pushed open, and In-ho stepped inside.

His mask was off.

That alone made your breath catch in your throat. He never removed it, not unless he wanted something to be understood without words. His face was as unreadable as ever, his expression set in careful neutrality. But there was something in his eyes—something dark, something lingering.

You swallowed. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

It wasn’t really a question.

In-ho exhaled through his nose, stepping further into the space. He didn’t lean against the counter, didn’t sit. Instead, he simply looked at you, as if measuring something.

“He won’t bother you again,” he said finally.

Your fingers curled slightly against your lap. A confirmation, then. You hadn’t expected him to lie, but something about the finality of it made your chest feel tight. You weren’t sure what you had expected to feel. Relief? Fear? Satisfaction?

Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze. “What did you do with him?”

A long silence. Then—

“I erased him.”

That was all he said.

Erased.

Not killed. Not disposed of.

Erased.

The word sent a chill down your spine.

You weren’t naïve. You knew what happened to people who crossed the wrong line in places like this. But there was something about the way In-ho said it—so calm, so absolute—that made it feel different. He hadn’t just removed the Panther from the equation. He had ensured there was nothing left of him. No name. No body. No story.

Gone.

You exhaled slowly, fingers tightening against the fabric of your robe. “Good.”

Something flickered in his gaze. Approval, maybe. Or something else. Something you couldn’t quite name.

He stepped closer then, stopping just a breath away. His presence was heavy, grounding, suffocating all at once. His hand lifted—hesitated—before he slowly, deliberately brushed his fingers along your jaw. The touch was barely there, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched slightly, but you held his gaze. “I’m not.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie.

His thumb ghosted over your chin, the touch so light it could have been mistaken for accidental. But it wasn’t. Nothing In-ho did was accidental. He was testing something, watching for a reaction.

You weren’t sure what he found.

Seconds stretched between you, thick with something unspoken. Then, just as easily as he had touched you, he pulled away. The warmth of his hand disappeared, leaving behind only the cold weight of silence.

His expression remained unreadable, his mask of indifference settling back into place. “Get some rest,” he said. “Tomorrow, things will be different.”

You weren’t sure what he meant.

You weren’t sure you wanted to know.

But as he turned and left, as the soft click of the bedroom door closing echoed through the space, one thing became clear.

The Panther Mask was gone.

And nothing would ever be the same.

———————

Yippee chapter twenty eight!! Lemme know what you think!

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[arcana-greenleaf]

Can I please request Garrett as a girl dad? 😭😭😭 Even as a vampire he'd be so gentle and loving! I'd love to see him with a human mate who happens to be a single mama.

First off, thank you so much for this request! :) I absolutely loved the idea of Garrett as a girl dad, and I had so much fun writing this. I decided to mix headcanons with full scenes to try and bring his relationship with Reader and Lily to life. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💖

Garrett had wandered into the small town looking for nothing in particular. He never stayed in one place too long, but something about this town felt... different.

He first saw you at the grocery store, struggling with a tired, fussy toddler on your hip while trying to pay for the groceries. Lily, barely four years old, was squirming in your arms, clearly unhappy about something. Garrett wasn’t one to intervene in human affairs, but when he heard the cashier’s rude tone, something inside him bristled. “Look, lady, if you don’t have enough-” You sighed, clearly exhausted and completely done with the cashier, and reached for your wallet with one hand while the other tried to keep Lily still. “I do. I just need a second.” Something in Garrett made him want to help. In a blur too fast for human eyes to catch, he stepped beside you and placed a crisp bill on the counter. “This should cover it.” You turned to him startled and confused as Lily blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes. “Oh, no, you don’t have to!” “I insist,” Garrett said smoothly, flashing a charming smile. He turned to Lily and spoke in a gentle manner that surprised even him. “Besides, it looks like this little one deserves a treat after being so patient.” Lily studied him carefully, then, in a completely unexpected move, reached for his wild hair. “You look like a pirate!” Garrett chuckled. “Aye, that I do, lass.” You shook your head but smiled nonetheless. “Thank you. That was… kind of you.” Garrett tipped an imaginary hat. “Anytime.” And just like that, he was hooked.

You have been hesitant at first. A mysterious, handsome man appearing out of nowhere and taking an interest in you and your daughter? It sounded like the start of a fairy tale….or a horror story. But Garrett was patient. He didn’t push nor did he invade your space. He simply kept showing up wherever you guys went, always ready with a smile for Lily and a knowing look for you. One evening, he found you sitting on the porch, visibly exhausted, while Lily played in the yard. He took a seat as well and watched the little girl chase fireflies. “She likes you,” you admitted, almost begrudgingly. Garrett smirked. “What’s not to like?” You rolled your eyes at him. “She doesn’t warm up to people easily.” Garrett watched as Lily toddled over to him and held up a tiny hand. He extended his own, letting her place a glowing firefly in his palm. “Seems to me she’s got good instincts.” Lily beamed and gave him a toothy grin. “You can keep it!” Garrett smiled endearingly. "An honoured gift, princess." Your heart softened a little more.

Despite his wild, rebellious nature, Garrett is shockingly gentle with Lily. He makes sure to always speak softly to her, even when he’s passionate or frustrated about something else.

It starts as a joke, but Garrett becomes the designated client at Lily's hair salon. Lily loves his long hair and insists on playing with it, weaving it into messy braids and pigtails, and adorning it with colourful hair clips and flower crowns. At first, he pretended to hate it but it was really obvious that he loved it. He even begged you to teach him how to braid hair so he could do Lily’s hair as well.

(you are planning to buy Lily a kid's makeup set next, Garret would look really good with sparkly blue eyeshadow)

Garrett has fought in wars and challenged authority figures, but he will sit through an entire tea party wearing a ridiculous hat if it makes Lily happy. you secretly take pictures

He feels an overwhelming instinct to keep you safe. Whether it's shielding you from supernatural threats or simply ensuring Lily never crosses the street without holding his hand, he is hyper-aware of your safety.

Let's be real he has centuries of knowledge and firsthand historical experience, so bedtime stories with Garrett are next level. Lily gets to hear about the Revolutionary War in dramatic detail, but he always makes sure to tone it down to keep it child-friendly. Just you wait when she is old enough so he can help her with her History homework…

As a vampire, he doesn’t sleep, eat, or get tired, but he adjusts to human life. He learns how to cook even if he doesn’t eat the food. The food was inedible in his humble beginnings but with time he started getting better. He even started preparing Lily's lunch and is always trying to arrange it into some animal-looking thing with a little note. While cooking, Garrett wears a ‘kiss the cook’ apron only because you got it for him.....he huffs and puffs if you don't actually kiss him.

It happened on accident. Garrett had been in your lives for almost a year by now, seamlessly blending into your little world. Lily adored him, and you – well, you had stopped pretending you didn’t a long time ago. One night, Lily was half-asleep after the bedtime story when she reached for him instead of you. “Daddy,” she murmured, curling into his chest. Garrett froze. Time stopped. You were standing in the doorway, eyes wide and a hand over your mouth. Lily’s breathing evened out, already lost to sleep again, but Garrett felt something shift deep in his immortal cold heart. Later, when you met his gaze and whispered, “Are you okay?” he swallowed hard, his voice rough when he finally spoke. “I’ve never been better.” Garrett didn’t move for a long time. The sound of Lily’s sleepy voice echoing in his head felt like a shock to his system. Something shifted and clicked into place in a way he never knew was possible. Daddy. He had lived through centuries, fought wars, and roamed aimlessly through life without a single attachment. And yet here he was, with a tiny human trusting him enough to give him a title that carried more weight than anything he had ever known. He glanced up at you. You were still watching him with an unreadable expression, but your eyes were soft. Softer than he had ever seen them. Slowly, you stepped forward, kneeling beside the couch where he sat. “She already thinks of you that way,” you whispered. “I think… I think she has for a while.” Garrett carefully adjusted Lily in his arms, his fingers brushing through her soft curls. “And you?” You sucked in a breath but didn't look away. "You know how I feel." He did. He had known for weeks, maybe even months, but hearing it aloud, seeing it in your eyes – it was completely different. Garrett reached for your hand, his cool fingers tracing over your knuckles. “I’ve never had anything like this,” he admitted. “Not in all my years.” You finally gave him a small smile. “And?” He exhaled, brushing a kiss against Lily’s forehead. “And I never want to lose it.” You leaned in, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “You won’t.” For the first time in his existence, Garrett believed it.

Garrett never expected to find a home, much less a family. But in you and Lily, he found both. And for the first time in centuries, he wasn’t just a wanderer anymore. He was only yours.

[redicillin]

i’m at the point in the series where Cameron and chase are sleeping together as fwb, can I request doctor reader who finds out about this and is really upset because she thought there was something between her and chase, but maybe chase thinks that he’s not good enough for her and that she’d never go out with him and that’s kinda why he goes fuck it and starts sleeping with Cameron? sorry if that doesn’t make much sense!! 😭💗

𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫. (𝐫.𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞)

chase made a stupid mistake, and it ended everything between the two of you before it even began.

gn!reader ��� 1.0k ☆ masterlist. ☆ sorry—

You’ve always prided yourself on being rational. You don’t get involved in workplace gossip, you don’t let emotions cloud your medical decisions, and you certainly don’t engage in petty jealousy.

But right now, sitting in House’s office as he drones on about a new case, you can feel the tightness in your chest, the sting behind your eyes, and the unrelenting weight of something ugly and unspoken pressing against your ribs.

Chase is sleeping with Cameron.

You wish you hadn’t found out. That House hadn’t been an ignorant prick and outed the two in the middle of the diagnostics room.

Maybe you could have gone a little longer in blissful ignorance, believing the stolen glances between you and Chase meant something.

Maybe you could have continued thinking that the lingering touches, the way his gaze softened when he looked at you, the easy banter—it all meant something.

But it doesn’t. Because if it had, Chase wouldn’t have fallen into bed with someone else.

You swallow down the lump in your throat and focus on House as he scrawls nonsense across the whiteboard. No one else in the room seems remotely aware of your inner turmoil. Foreman is scribbling notes, Cameron looks perfectly composed, and Chase—

Chase won’t meet your eyes.

That hurts most of all.

You don’t know how you missed it. Looking back, the signs were there. The subtle shift in Chase’s demeanor, the way Cameron would smirk at him from across the room, the way they seemed… closer. More comfortable. And now, knowing what you know, you can’t unsee it.

“You still with us?” House’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You blink and realise that everyone is staring at you.

“I’m fine,” you reply, keeping your tone even.

House gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you but, surprisingly, doesn’t push. “Great. Go do doctor things.” He waves a dismissive hand. “You especially.” He points at Chase. “I need a coffee, British people drink coffee don’t they?”

“Australian,” Chase rolls his eyes but stands, shooting you a hesitant glance before leaving the room.

You should let it go. You should get back to work, shove your feelings down where they belong, and pretend none of this affects you.

But you don’t. Instead, you follow him.

—

You catch up to Chase in the break room, where he’s waiting for the coffee machine to finish brewing. He notices you instantly, posture stiffening as he glances over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he says cautiously.

You cross your arms, leaning against the counter. “Hey.”

For a moment, there’s only silence between you. The sound of coffee dripping into the pot is the only thing filling the space, and the tension is suffocating.

Finally, Chase sighs. “I should’ve told you,”

The confirmation makes your stomach twist. It’s not even a denial, not even an attempt to play dumb. Just quiet resignation.

“Does it matter?” you ask, voice quieter than you’d like.

He exhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess not,”

You want to be rational about this. You want to be mature. But all you can think about is how stupid you feel. How blind you were to something happening right under your nose.

“I just…” You shake your head, trying to gather your thoughts. “I thought there was something between us.”

Chase’s jaw tightens, his gaze dropping to the floor.

You swallow hard. “Was I wrong?”

“No,” he admits. “You weren’t,”

His voice is quiet, but the weight of his words slams into you with full force. You weren’t wrong.

“Then why?” The question leaves your lips before you can stop it.

Chase exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. “Because it wouldn’t have mattered,”

Your brows furrow. “What?”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and there’s something almost painful in his expression.

“You’re… you,” he says, as if that’s supposed to explain everything. “You’re brilliant. And focused. And incredible. And I—” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “I didn’t think I had a chance,”

Your heart clenches. “So instead of even trying, you just… what? Slept with the first woman you spoke to?”

He flinches. “It wasn’t like that,”

“Then what was it like?”

He hesitates, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t know,” he admits. “Easy? Safe?”

That stings more than it should. “So I wouldn’t have been easy or safe?”

His gaze sharpens. “No. You would’ve been real,”

The words knock the breath from your lungs.

Chase shakes his head, jaw tight. “Look, I know I screwed up. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. Hell, I didn’t even think I had the ability to hurt you,” He huffs a bitter laugh. “Guess I was wrong,”

You don’t know what to say to that. Because he did hurt you. And the worst part is, you don’t know if he even realised he had the power to.

Silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating.

Finally, you speak. “Do you love her?”

Chase doesn’t answer right away. And that tells you everything you need to know.

“No,” he says at last, voice barely above a whisper.

You nod slowly, processing his answer.

Chase steps closer, hesitating before speaking again. “Do you love me?”

Your breath catches.

It would be so easy to lie, to tell him no, to walk away and pretend none of this mattered. But you’ve never been good at lying to yourself.

“I could have.”

Chase’s expression twists with something unreadable. Regret, maybe.

You don’t say anything else. You just turn and walk away, leaving him standing there with the weight of everything unspoken between you.

Because maybe, in another life, in another version of this story, things could have been different.

But in this one, Chase never even gave you the chance.

[mourndust]

hi hi hiiiii! this is my first time publishing in tumblr! english is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes, either way i've doubled checked so hope there's not many around! be kind and tell me what you think about it! reblogs and likes are always welcome. minors dni wlw content, good old finger-fuck that never fails, oral sex, spit.

it’s meaningless at first.

you don’t pay much attention to her. she’s in the corner of your eye but you’re too busy flirting, fighting your way to get a free drink since you refuse to pay for one but she’s there. you saw her fighting hours ago, and you know she’s looking.

it’s meaningless. a silent invitation that caught you off-guard cause fuck, you’re drinking a beer in peace and why the hell would anyone bug you? either way you recognize her before she’s even talking to you, a light scent of alcohol mixed up with sweat that has everything to be nasty, yet, somehow, it’s almost nice when she sits in the stool next to you.

it fills the air. surrounds you in a cloud of haze cause hell she’s good at making you pay attention, at noticing she’s there, closer.

“vi,” she says introducing herself, and it makes sense later why you’re locked up in the bathroom, why exactly you folded so fast — always so needy, so eager to please the rest—. “nice to meet you.”

she points out some shit about seeing you around in the pit-hole, how you’re always unfazed by the place, always pretty, always unavailable, and she’s getting you, caught you in her bare hands cause you don’t know why you’re letting her follow you to the bathroom like a lost puppy, but it’s good cause you want it, as soon as her magenta hues touch your bare fingers and she’s laughing, making the most amazing sound you’ve heard in a while, you’re all in.

you crave casual. can someone blame you? world’s crazy out there, and you don’t really do it commonly but man — you just want to have fun with her, commit to the strange magnetism that connects you every night to this girl. so you let her do it, let her rough hands lock the door, roam over your sides as she ends wirh the space left between you and her own body.

it’s nice. tuesdays are slow, not many people gamble around so the place is not really crowded, and it’s even refreshing when she pushes her knee between your legs like she didnt know it was fucking heaven, lifting you up to the counter as she relish on the taste of kissing you, god — her kisses are soft even when there’s a certain sloppiness lingered to them, some roughness she tries to keep in line but slips away for the moment, demanding and demanding as she got lost in the sensation, the smell of your perfume, that shampoo you liked and began using religiously.

can you blame violet too? fuck. caitlyn’s been fucking up her life since she went full weirdo mode and stop talking thanks to the thirst of revenge, and vi’s been having so much in her life lately she just need to pull the switch down in her brain, shut it off at least for twenty minutes and not depend on the amount of booze she’s lately depending on, actual human touch.

so you? you are similar to an oasis in plain dessert.

“there you go, so good for just a few kisses,” vi points out to praise the way your hips move seeking for a bit more friction, driving her insane as the fabric of your jeans rub against the black pants of the fighter—. “help me get you out of this.”

violet’s a force of nature, crawling under your skin as her bandaged hands struggle with the button of your jeans, taking a second or two to actually get you out of the thick fabric that’s only annoying her. the contact of her skin soothes the sting of pure need and she has the audacity of taking time, alluring as she places soft kisses over the crook of your neck like she’s really imprinting the curves of your body in her memories, the soft and smooth flesh that you posses, the moles and that tiny underwear that only fuels her desire to keep taking what she wants.

surely vi thrives on making you a mess, talks a lot a when your brain becomes a pile of erratic thoughts. the music is so loud outside you can hear the bass bouncing on the walls, making them shake as the air is filled by the sound of your moans, the way the fighter’s mouth sucks on your skin only to leave red marks she hopes to see on the next days in the pit.

"fuck's sake," she says looking at the slick mark on her jeans — "you made a mess on my knee-" it's noticiable when she point it out, the fabric is slightly darker on the zone and it was visible when you put some attention to it — "how are you going to fix this huh? it's your mess, your problem."

clearly she’s all bark and bite.

"talk baby, you can do it. i'm not even fucking you yet," she demands when you're too zoned out to say something. "tell me how are you going to fix the mess you made on my knee."

"don't care" you answer soon after. "i'll think of something after- please vi."

your voice is rough, raspy by the delicious sounds you make when she's spreading you open, using a hand to keep you steady over the sink as she raises your shirt from over your chest.

“after? after what?”

she kneads one of your breasts in her hand, squeezing the bare flesh before taking it in her mouth, the warm sensation spreading all over your spine: formalities are now left aside to let over that primal need take over, so you're pulling her poorly-dyed black hair closer, even when she bites and uses her tongue as a method to make the sting hurt less, moving to one breast to another — you just want her as possibly close.

and your jeans are hanging in the air holding by one leg only, black paint smeared on your tummy as her kisses now become more desperate, careless about their repercussions or what they stained as her mouth seems to follow this invisible path back to your cunt.

she's good at teasing, make you work for it, whispering praises all over your skin like she's not even close to have all that she wants with you in that hot bathroom. the fighter kneels only to be more comfortable, using her hands to spread you open, tasting you from over your underwear — only to have a taste and mainly, because the fabric there it's almost non-existent: mental kudos to you.

you've become a teenage boy at that point. driven by words and gentle touches, the flick of her tongue as she moves eagerly travelling from your aching hole to your clit, casually rubbing the tip of her nose as she delves deeper, pulling your underwear to the side when she hears you say some erratic words of praising: she needs validation.

the fighter don't have to spit, but she does it anyway, soaking up her own fingers with saliva like they aren't already soaked with your arousal, hooking up her thumb in your entrance to stretch you out, moving it back and forth in almost a cruel, sweet torture, almost making sure you're going to beg to be filled at some point, all needy and pliable only cause you need her fingers inside.

"can you lift up your leg?" vi knows it's a greedy question, but she says it anyways in hope you'll comply, and you clearly do when you're clinging in the sink, trying to not lose balance when one leg stays in the floor and the other one is holded over the fighter's shoulder, the cold leather of her jacket pressing against your tight as you rest it over her back—. "good girl, you okay there?"

the wet sounds her mouth do left you nothing but stupid, her half lidded eyes following every involuntary movement your body makes as she moves between your soaked folds: how much is going to take for you to cum all over her face? soak her lips with the prettiest lip gloss?

"vi..." she knows what you're whining for, the pleaded tone that stained your words. she's hoping to be the cure of all your aches, comply every little thing you ask for. her fingers fill your core, sucking them in as you clench around the intrusion, and fuck. fuck it's just what you needed, the way they curl all the way in, rubbing on that nice spot she wastes no time in finding.

how can a fucking hand feel this good? makes your brain melt as your hips move in search of release, lost in the lewd sounds of your cunt, the way she find a way to comfortably eat you like a regular meal, how you shake and move against her mouth and that faces. violet’s been looking at all since she decided to put her damn knees on that filthy ass floor.

she gets off by your orgasm pouring in.

fucking soaked in her pants as she helps you ride the tidal waves that pours over you, that shake your body and makes you weak in the knees, struggling to keep on your feet as vi holds you still. and oh how she loves it. loves how she made a mess out of you, how she fucked up your defenses like they were nothing, and fuck it’s so nice.

she kisses your stomach, the marks she made before now red against her teeth, tracing up a path of kisses back to your mouth, cause she simply cannot get enough, she’s ready to keep going, take more if she wasn’t in a dirty bathroom.

your breathing is still heavy as you get off the sink, vi’s hand still on your hips as she pulls you closer, stealing a kiss that in contrast, is nothing but slow and fucking hot — and you wonder, by a whole damn minute, how the fuck is she so good at everything? kissing, teasing, touching, eating pussy-

“get your pants off,” you say, looking back at the stain on her knee with crimson cheeks—. “you cannot go out looking like that.”

violet tilts her head slightly backwards as the sound of her laugh fills the bathroom walls, shaking her head in disapproval — “it’s not really necessary. kinda like having a reminder of you.”

it’s a great tuesday, yeah that’s for sure.

so it’s not weird at all when it becomes usual the rest of the week.

[drabbletron]

Domesticity and Other Distractions: Hound x Reader fic (PART 2)

|| Sorry it's so short! I'm still working on this, slowly but surely. I just haven't had the time with working second shift and trying to save up for my own place. I really hope you all like it! This is sort of like an escape for me at the moment with life being the way it is right now. I know we could all use a little sweetness in life and Hound is just the mech for the job! ||

more Fluff

Now that you’re in the full cleaning swing he makes his way downstairs feeling that itch himself. He closes up the garage and notes the mess your roomies left for you in the kitchen. Hound’s only ever done one chore for you here and that was taking out the trash (because it was a near torrential downpour and he didn’t want you to have to deal with that), so he does that and hopes it makes things easier for you. He tries not to fault your friends and chalks it up to them being just as tired as you, then he sees that there’s the largest pile of dirty dishes imaginable lying in the sink. Now that’s just plain rude!

He's never done it before with human food, but he imagines it’s a lot like cleaning energon cubes, so it’s not completely unfamiliar as he reaches for the dish soap and a sponge. Methodically he makes his way through the mountain and, in no time flat, he’s got the majority of it done. After a few more pots and pans he’s onto rinsing and then putting things on the counter over a towel to dry. He can see why you hate doing it when he notices the pads of his avatar’s fingers getting all wrinkly (what a weird thing humans do). He makes a note to ask you about why that happens later.

It's doing tasks like these that have him wondering about domesticity and you, and how he always finds the two going hand and hand with each other. If he were a human he’d have no problem doing all of these little things while you do some other little home things in a different part of the house. Even now when he’s pretending to be something he’s not, it’s like living in some fantasy where he’s not on the front lines of an eons long war and he doesn’t have to worry about you or the people he loves getting hurt. He can imagine that he lives here on this little blue marble in the middle of nowhere with a house, a garden, plenty of land to explore and sights to see, and you, always happy to see him and be loved by him. Now wouldn’t that be something?

He leaves the quaint little imaginings to the back of his processor and takes a moment to look around and see what else he can do to make things a little easier for you. Before he can take a crack at the living room and the many things in there, you’re coming down the stairs in your pajamas. By Primus, you look so cozy and soft with the light from the window on the stairs shining just right. You’re radiant and ethereal and his spark jumps in his chassis.

“I finished the room!”

You hop along down the steps, more pep than you should have from working all night long and wrap your arms around him with a hum. He can smell the freshly applied body spray, something soft and clean smelling with a hint of woody notes, when he returns the embrace and sways gently from side to side. This is surely some sort of dream. There is no way that Primus let him have this soft little thing from outer space that loved him so much. But who was he to question the creator.

“Ah took care of the dishes and the trash for you,” you look up at him in surprise, “Figured I’d make myself useful and try to tidy up.”

“Hound, you didn’t have to do all of that,” and the smile you give him is a mile long.

“Ah know, jus’ didn’t want you to stress yourself, darlin’.”

“You are too cute, you know that?”

You bury your face into his chest and he brings up a hand to cup the back of your head content to stay wrapped up in your warmth. How often do you get to hold each other like this? When was the last time you’d cuddled him, if ever? Not sitting on his shoulder or in his hand to be carried around and not sitting in his cab or the back seat when he takes you places. No, actually held and cuddled. When?

“Hey, do you want to take a nap with me?”

“Well, ah’ve never slept in a human bed before. Sure!”

With that you drag him excitedly up the stairs back to your room.

When Hound sees the space this time it’s definitely much cleaner. The bed is made and covered in soft, fuzzy blankets and plush pillows; the desk and bedside tables are visible if still a little cluttered, more of an organized cluster of items; and there are decidedly no “little patterned fabrics” to be seen.

“So, what do you think?”

(Part 1)

[wordswithkittywitch]

I was thinking about faith and religion in scifi settings, and I've come to the conclusion that while it makes for an interesting story I'm a little disappointed, as a religious person myself, that in almost all cases, if a religion appears in a scifi story it will either be proven as literally true, completely false, or a misunderstanding based on actual events. This bothers me because I feel a large part of faith is that there is room for doubt, you've considered that, and you're going on believing anyway. That tends to lose its poignancy after you've actually met the god you worship in the flesh.

I'm just going to touch on a few examples, these are definitely not all places religion has been examined in scifi, these are just some that I'm more familiar with and I feel merit a mention in the discussion of "does proof of religion interfere with faith"?

I feel I would be remiss if I didn't mention Star Wars, as Jedi is explicitly stated to be a religion in text, which some characters follow and some characters do not, and some characters openly scoff at. Which is a little weird given how often "You're putting way too much importance to your religion." is countered with, "My religion gives me superpowers." But, as is my original point, whether or not you personally ascribe to Jedi beliefs in-universe, maybe, if you've never met a powerful Jedi, you can say, "Well I've never seen someone lift a rock with their mind." but for the most part it is common knowledge that there was this cult, now with fewer followers than it used to have, where the faithful were given powers from their religion.

But my main point is really coming down to the two I blog the most about, maybe just because I'm most familiar with them. One of these, of course, is Star Trek, which ignored religion for the most part. Except in Deep Space Nine. In Deep Space Nine, we see that the Bajorans worship the prophets, who are shown to be actual entities in the very first episode. Now, they do not contact one of their followers, but a human who was in the right place at the right time to become a religious figure because he directly talked to the gods.

Granted, there was an undertone of most Federation people involved were feeling, "I'm tolerating these beliefs I do not share because this is Star Trek and Star Trek has the best of humanity and the best of humanity doesn't go up to their friends and say, 'Stop worshipping that, it's an alien not a god'."

I will touch more on the Klingon and Ferengi religions when I get to Doctor Who. Trust me, there will be a connection.

Babylon 5 I feel handled religion very well, in that for some characters it was cultural, some of them used it to support them emotionally, and some of them had difficulty proving that the figures they worshiped actually were helping them even if that's what they felt was happening. I found this really realistic and one of the best displays of religion in science fiction, but that's not surprising given that faith was one of the main themes of the show.

Now, this is where it gets interesting, at least for me. Religion is not a large theme on Doctor Who, though it certainly crops up from time to time. Often, it's the main character trying to avoid becoming a religious figure, (which I feel they fail at, if you accept that a god is not necessarily going to be helpful or entirely aware of the consequences of their actions, as they are in nearly all world mythologies, the Doctor is a perfectly good example of a god) but there is also the small matter of the fact that the Doctor themselves was raised in a culture with a religious background. And, although the Doctor has almost entirely eschewed faith in the religious figures from his own background, they at no point deny the existence of

Part of that is due to the fact the Doctor has personally met both Rassilon and Omega. Having concrete proof of the existence of your culture's gods removes the question of whether or not you believe in them. But it does move the question to "Are you going to bother worshipping someone you don't even like?"

The Doctor is not fond of Rassilon, and if they ever actively worshipped them they probably don't anymore. Never meet your heroes or your gods, I guess. But this makes sense in the general relationship the Doctor has with Timelord culture. "This is what I was raised in. I know the myths, I can recite the nursery rhymes and I know what guidelines the gods laid out for my culture. But I don't want to do that." Sort of not Rassilionian, but culturally Rassilionian.

"I met god. He was an asshole." is the main religious theme in Doctor Who, because that's generally how the titular character feels about meeting any religious figure, from their own culture or anyone else's. And over sixty-plus years, they've met a fair few. (That said, "I met god. He was an asshole." tracks for the rest of Timelord society.)

Now I'm ready to explain where the Klingons and the Ferengi come in. Like the Timelords, the Ferengi religion is in many ways a sort of ancestor worship, but rather than focusing on Gint as the founder of the religion, it focuses on the Rules of Acquisition he laid out for his people to follow. But there is historical evidence that Gint, the only real religious figure other than members of the church, actually existed and actually wrote these Rules. My point is, there's no point in questioning whether or not Gint existed. The only room for doubt is how following the Rules will affect the afterlife of the followers of this religion.

The Klingons did almost the same thing as the Ferengi and the Timelords, except in reverse. Rather than elevating certain historical figures to god status through a form of ancestor worship, they demoted the gods to historical figures by killing them.

But my point is, whether or not they still respect their cultures' gods, both Klingons and Ferengi have them as concrete historical figures. You can doubt they had any spiritual importance, but you can't doubt they were there. Which seems to be an ongoing theme in most scifi. The gods are real. Whether or not you worship them is your problem.

[localiciouss]

It's kitchen cabinet not common? It's dry and dark in there.

[mokeonn]

Before I go to sleep I leave you all with this piece of advice: sometimes you don't actually have to answer big political questions, sometimes you can just say "I am not smart enough to know that, I just know the small things I do to help." Like you can often times completely avoid making a fool of yourself if you just say you don't know.

[ourceliumnetwork]

to the older gentleman at the dispensary who decided he couldn't leave without telling me "Miss, take your pretty self" to "have a wonderful day in Jesus": buddy we're at the weed store what are you TALKING about, Jesus ain't here right now and i don't want him involved in my day.

[elldritch-horror]

Spicy-brained friends, I would like to propose an update to the very useful ‘if you hate everyone, eat, if everyone hates you, sleep, and if you hate yourself, shower’ mantra to live by

Have you suddenly become a petty, hateful little gremlin who thinks people should face the firing squad for (checks notes) leaving teabags on the counter, breathing loudly, or daring to exist in the same space as you? Perhaps mundane and reasonable requests like ‘hey, we agreed to hang out now, let’s hang out’ make you want to scream and move to a yurt in the woods.

You. Are. Overstimulated.

People talk a lot about being overstimulated, and the physical/mental effects of it. What I haven’t seen is people talking about what it does emotionally, and it took me an embarassingly long time to link up those nitpicky, resentful emotions with the state of overstimulation/meltdown/shutdown.

These feelings do not mean that you’re a bad person! They probably aren’t how you actually feel about the people around you. They probably do mean that your nervous system is at its absolute limit and any request/demand/stimulus is Too Much and taking you into fight or flight territory.

Go lie down in a dark room for an hour, or find somewhere safe and familiar to stim for a bit. If it’s happening a lot, schedule yourself regular low-stimulation shutdown time

Signed: someone who moved in with their nearest and dearest only to have a massive crisis of faith about Suddenly Hating All of Them. I don’t hate them, it’s just overstimulating living with people. If I can spare anyone else a similar 9 months of suspecting that they may actually be a bit of a shit person, then this post is worth it!

[syoddeye]

simon doesn't pursue people, he operates more like a one-man strike team. his approach to human connection is transactional, pragmatic, a matter of logistics.

on the rare occasion he's looking for company, he wants someone easy, who won't fuss when he introduces them to a thin motel mattress. won't ask what he does for work or try to make plans for the morning. won't bother him about 'next time'. nothing long-term. no strings.

he doesn't have a 'type' so much as a protocol: pick someone malleable, pliant, and preferably on the pill.

then you start working at his local.

the first time he sees you, he doesn't notice much beyond the basics: efficiency, attentiveness, pouring pints and bantering with the regulars with aplomb. by the second or third time, he's paying closer attention. you're not just good at your job—you're quick, always three steps ahead of the chaos. you give out smiles left and right, but it's more muscle memory than genuine warmth. and you're clever, too. funny, even, when someone manages to earn your attention for longer than a transaction.

you could probably keep up with his humor. go toe-to-toe.

you're off-limits, though. that's the rule. bartenders are switzerland—neutral territory. don't shit where you eat. it's a system that works, so long as he doesn't let himself think too much about the view when you lean over the counter or the lilt of your voice when you ask what he's having tonight.

then one evening, you take another man's number. some leering idiot, too comfortable with inserting himself into your space, grinning like he's cracked your code because you haven't humbled him. simon doesn't react, not outwardly. he nurses his drink and watches as you smile, slip the napkin into your pocket, and turn back to the bar.

but that's when you become a problem.

he tells himself it doesn't matter, that it's nothing. he doesn't want a number or a date. but the thought of someone else having you—someone who doesn't know what to do with a woman like you—it's a splinter buried just deep enough to keep him thinking about it. irritating, prone to fester.

how to approach you, though? he can't be as direct as he'd like, can't pin you down with a look or crass words. no way to corner you when you're safe behind the counter, or disappearing through a staff door. hanging around until you're off would be pathetic. dog behavior, he thinks, with a twinge of contempt for the mental image. he's got too much self-respect for that, at least.

no, he's got to actually make an effort. use his words.

the next time he comes in, he waits. no more corner tables or watching from afar. he sits close, pretends not to notice how your hands look slicing a lime. he orders his usual and tries not to overthink your tone when you set it down in front of him.

"you alright?"

you reach for his card, fingers pinching the plastic, but he holds on, smirking when you tug and then huff.

this is the moment. his moment. the one he's been building toward in his head for days. but there's a hitch, a blip in his usual confidence, and he fumbles. he blames your perfume.

"so…you come here often?"

not what he meant to say, but not the worst.

the shockwave of his nuclear-level failure doesn't register until your lips twitch, and it finally sinks in. his eyes widen a fraction as the realization lands. oh, he's fucked it. all his rehearsing, for nothing.

"…yeah," you say, voice flat, a single brow raised as you gesture vaguely toward the bar around you. "i work here?"

his mouth dries, but his face doesn't change. he doesn't fight it when you pull the card out of his grasp. there's the barest glint of something in your eyes—amusement, maybe, or pity. he's not sure which is worse.

you turn away to ring him up, but when you glance back, he's gone.

next

[der-schweizer]

There's my portal

As i said on @bet-on-me-13 'Where is my portal' post, here is my short about their idea. please enjoy.

Danny sipped his coffee, slowly shuffling towards his lab. It had been a long time since he had a ‘run on two coffees and some ecto’ weekend but here he was, Monday morning, on his way to work.

He really wanted to be in bed but he had bills to pay.

Quietly he shuffled into his lab, which he found oddly drafty and oddly bright, considering he hadn’t turned on the lights yet. After flicking them on he moved on towards his desk, passing a big gaping hole in the wall and—

Danny paused, shuffled backwards a bit and then looked at the place where his portal used to be. For a long moment he just looked, then did a slow blink and took another sip of coffee.

After making sure that his portal, including parts of the wall, were really gone, he let out a sigh and held his face. “Who the fuck stole my door?”

With a sigh he pushed his bangs out of his face and walked to his PC, to check the security footage of his Cameras. For once it wasn’t Vlad who stole his shit, Vlad at least had the courtesy to leave a note that he ‘borrowed’ something. It was safe to say that he was surprised to find the footage gone. There weren't many people that could hack through Tucker's programing.

Danny sat there, looking at the black screen of his PC for a long moment before thinking aloud. “Okay, we have one or more people who can; One, break through Tuckers firewalls. Two, physically move a portal weighing around ten tons and, Three, knows their way around Arcane Runes so as to not cause a mass ghost invasion.”

He thought about it for a minute before throwing his hands up. “Fuck this, I’m just going to use the other side to find it.” He got out of his chair before transforming. 

Danny focused his power into one of his fingers before poking the air in front of him, the tip of it pierced the fabric of space which he then used to rip it open. He quickly flew through the tear before it sealed again. Despite Wulf teaching him how to do it he still sucked at it, which was the main reason he built his portal.

Once in the Zone he looked around for it. He found it after over two hours of searching, which only served to piss him off to the point where he began muttering curses under his breath.

Standing in front of it, he gave it a quick inspection. After inspecting the Runes, Danny had to admit that, whoever had stolen it, knew his way around them. They pretty much locked out anyone not authorized and or approved by the Caster. Too bad for them, Danny had the ‘Masterkey’ and went through anyway.

John Constantine was holding his face, quietly counting to ten. Neither smoking nor drinking would help in this situation. After reaching fifty he ran his hands over his head, looking at the assembled brigade of idiots in front of him.

“Okay, let me get this straight.” He started, “You,” he pointed at Batman, “found an ‘unknown energy signature’ and went to investigate. Then you found a high security lab with had an active portal to ‘who knows where’ and your first decision was to fucking steal it?!?!”

Superman moved forward, opening his mouth to counter but Constantine didn't let him. “AND you moron helped him steal it, not to mention you!” he pointed at flash, “Help install it here, in the watchtower, without telling anyone from JLD about it?”

Flash looked a bit sheepish at him. “Well, in my defense I didn’t know it was stolen.”

Constantine wanted to bash his head against the next closest bulkhead, maybe that would help.

“Okay, okay.” Constantine facepalmed, trying to stop the aneurysm from building up more.

A deep chill suddenly filled the air and sent goosebumps all over his back, “Oh this is just getting better and better.” Constantine reached into his pocket for a warding charm, before turning around and swearing. He stopped swearing when he saw who had come through. “Oh, hey Phantom.”

“Constantine, why the fuck did you steal my portal?” Danny wasn’t even pissed anymore. He knew the English drunktard too well to blame him. Granted he was obnoxious, didn’t pay back his debt and came whenever it suited him, but Danny liked the man. He didn’t exasperate problems and always did what was necessary.

“Look, I didn’t.” He then threw a thumb over his shoulder, “Those morons did.”

“Constantine, do you know this entity?” Batman already looked on high alert.

“Excuse you! I have a name. And that is my Portal. Explain why it isn't where it is supposed to be.”

“The sensors of the Watchtower found an unknown energy signature, upon investigation we found an unsecured pathway to a different dimension, so we secured it.”

Danny stared at Batman for a solid minute, then simply said, “Oh I'm going to sue your ass so hard your grandkids will feel it.”

[slapintoaslimjim]

katsuki bakugou boyfriend headcanons !

fem pronouns used :3

-you’re the ONLY person he allows to invade his personal space

-he actually gets kinda offended and pouty when you’re not clung to him while you two are spending alone time together

-“what’re you doing?” “kats i’m doing something real quick-“ “my girlfriend hates meeee” (dramatic much)

-you two have matching hoodies (that were his idea) and when you two wear them he’s constantly posting photos of you two wearing them

-scary dog privilege!!

-he doesn’t even have to say anything to anyone- no need for “i’m her boyfriend you prick” nope. his arm is either around your waist or his hand is holding yours and his presence is enough to keep people from being weird to you

-hot take, but he’s not possessive. he knows he can trust you and he knows you trust him

-protective? absolutely

-if it’s night time, just be prepared for constant check ins, or for him to self insert himself to come with you wherever you’re going. unless it’s a girls night out, he has the respect of boundaries to not insert himself into that and wants you to enjoy your time

-you’d swear he has maternal instincts because he does not go to sleep when you’re out late with friends, not until you are home

-he doesn’t flip his shit either if you don’t message him back in a “timely manner” bc yes he’s protective of you and wants you safe, but he’s not a controlling asshole

-he has a lot of body heat due to his quirk so anemic girlies who are always cold RISE UP cause he’s taking advantage of that to cuddle the shit out of you (even if you don’t have anemia he’s still gonna cuddle you)

-if you’re a miss independent, he loves that about you

-but some things he wants to do entirety for himself without your help/input

-paying for things (everything) is a big one. “babe i can pay for this it isn’t even much” and he won’t even verbally respond, he’ll just give you with an offended look like you just cussed him tf out LMAO

-he’ll set you on the counter and let you yap to him while he cooks for the two of you

-if he’s trying a new recipe, you’re his taste tester

-“this is actually really good, good job baby!”

-cue him smiling like an absolute fool

-you’re definitely his natural valium, whenever he’s in an overstimulated/pissed off/panicked state, something about your presence just calms him down to where he can talk it out with you

-oh, and don’t try insulting yourself around him

-cause good GOD the glare he’s gonna give you is insane

-knows how you’re feeling just by looking at you

-he’s a super observant person, so he knows a lot of your patterns, favorite things, etc without you having to mention them over and over

-“oh you’re making [favorite meal]?” “yea, ya mentioned how you haven’t had it in a while and how you missed it”

-food is definitely a bond and love language

-he’s pretty passive about pda, as long as he’s got an arm around you, or you’re holding his bicep he’s more than okay

[bunnis-monsters]

Hi there I hope your doing alright and i hope all your haters stub their pinkie toe for the rest of the year!

Can i get a high elf a real sophisticated kinda snobby man being obsessed over his fem human readers soft frame in a sort of primal way?

Sexy time with the fancy man please!

A/N: I really liked this concept, maybe I’ll do a part 2 if peope want it!

It wasn’t often that people like him entered your bakery.

Elves in the area were known for being pretty snobby, refusing food touched by human hands even if they were starving.

So to say that you were surprised when a noble elf walked into your bakery and stood in front of your counter was an understatement.

“H-hello, how can I help you? All of the baked goods here are freshly made with ingredients sourced f-“

He cut you off his a wave of his hand, staring at you for a moment before speaking.

“… I’ll take all of it.”

You were so confused… an elf of his status was biting into one of your pastries, staring at you as he sat at one of the small tables in your bakery. It was an unusual sight… and it was scaring off your regulars.

This happened weekly for a few months. The elf would walk in, but all of your goods, the eat a few before leaving.

It made you a lot of money and helped you gain notoriety within wealthy human circles, but it still unnerved you.

What reason did he have for being there? As a child, you had always been warned to not mingle with elves too much.

They lived much longer lives, so they didn’t see human life as something that should be cherished since humans died within a century of being born.

But… you didn’t think this elf was out to harm you. He payed for your goods like any other customer would and never bothered you besides staring… so what was the harm in letting this continue?

Well you would find out one evening when he arrived later than usual, his eyes scanning your form in an almost hungry way.

You were just about to close up shop, but let him in hoping to sell your remaining pastries. Once he was inside, you switched over the open sign to close.

It seemed to please him that he had some sort of special privilege, allowed to stay when others wouldn’t be able to.

“Good evening, my dear. Usually I would be buying your lovely pastries… but I’m here for… something different today.”

Before you could ask what he wanted, the elf was already walking behind the counter and getting in your personal space. He removed the glove from his hand, gently caressing your chubby cheek.

“I’ve never felt the urge to… touch a human woman before. But… you certainly have brought out a different side of me.”

His touch was gentle, as if he were caressing the face of a goddess he had come to worship. You could feel your cheeks getting warm from the praise, not sued to being ass as something tantalizing and tempting to someone as beautiful as him.

“Y-your words are very kind, sir… b-but my shop is closing soon,” you answered shyly, looking away from his intense gaze.

“Oh, my little cherub… shh, this shop of yours is open just for me, is it not? You could have locked the doors and shooed me away, yet I am here.”

Before you could process it, you were being lifted up onto the counter, your dress slid up by his lithe hands so he could gaze at your plump thighs.

“So soft, gods what a beauty…”

It was kind of cute, the way his elf ears twitched as he looked at your body in awe, as if he had never seen a woman like you before.

His cheeks were red, his eyes hazy as he growled lowly before leaning forward to inhale your scent. His body shook with need, and with a strength you didn’t think the lithe man had, he pinned you down and rutted against you.

You could feel his hard cock pushing into your clothes pussy, as if trying to fuck you through you panties. His need for you was primal, animalistic, he was almost drooling.

Before he could rip off your underwear and take you there, he bit down on his lip, his fingertips nearly bruising your hips as he tried to calm himself.

“My apologies, love… it’s just so hard to… control myself when I’m around you…”

He kissed along your neck, biting down on a sensitive spot, causing you to whine out in surprise.

“Shh, my darling… come. Let us retire to my home. We have… much to discuss.”

Part 2?

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila

[rosenclaws]

XXX.Com || Pornstar Worst!Logan Howlett smut

summary: Logan needs money and work is hard to find when you're from another universe, luckily he lands himself a job as an adult film actor. Lets just say, he's a natural.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!!, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, porn (obvi lol), jerking off, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, scratching, oral f!receiving, rough sex, fake professor x college student (its the porno they're filming), he calls you teach in the porno, reader has a stage name (sunshine), flirting.

a/n: This was inspired by the delicious pornstar logan fics by @bpmiranda I wanted to try my own twist on the trope but plz go check out their fics they are amazing!!

Coming from another universe had its fair share of problems. For one his other self was a very well known hero so people were constantly staring. The other issue was working. He needed money if he ever wanted to move out of this god forsaken place. He’s sick of seeing wade walk around naked at 8 in the morning.

He needs his space and to get that he needs money but getting a job with none of the required paperwork was hard. He had to settle for doing odd jobs that paid cash under the table. Those were fine but he needed something more stable.

When Wade suggested he turn to adult films he rolled his eyes at another attempt at shitty humor from his roommate but the more he thought about it the less it seemed like a joke. The money was good and hopefully they didn't ask too many questions. So fuck it. How he found the right place was a long story but he ended up getting hired pretty quickly.

As the director put it. He's sexy and big in more ways than one. To Logan's surprise they didn't seem to care much that he was from another universe but they did have to make sure he wasn't a total creep which he understood.

The first video he was assigned to was pretty basic. Just fucking a girls brains out or something. Whatever the hell people were in to these days, he didn't really care. As long as he got paid. He had to get used to the prying eyes of the cameras.

Still he said his lines, albeit it took him a couple takes to say them naturally. His gruff voice and rippling muscles skyrocketed him to the top. Despite being a rookie he attracted a lot of attention and even garnered a reputation within the studio. No one could deny the raw animal magnetism this man seemed to have.

"Logan! Good news, your next video is going to be a with one of the most popular stars in our studio." The directors over the top enthusiasm makes Logan's eyes roll but he grunts out a response.

"Her name is Sunshine. Look her up. Anyways be here tomorrow by nine." Sunshine? Logan chuckles to himself as he leaves the studio.

Fake names are not uncommon but he's yet to find one that sounds so...perky. Still his curiosity gets the better of him as he steals Wades laptop in the dead of night. Searching in the name and scanning the results. Logan works with many attractive people in this job but the moment he lays eyes on you something shifts.

You aren't just attractive, you're drop dead gorgeous. He clicks on a video and his cock tightens in his pants. The faces you make don't look over the top or rehearsed. They almost look real. But Logan can tell you're faking it.

Your moans are sweet but he can tell whoever this boy is that's got his cock in you isn't doing his job very well. Still ever the professional you are you make it work. He falls down a rabbit hole of video after video. Shutting the laptop as the clock reads two in the morning. His cock is hard and painful as he puts Wades laptop back on the counter.

Fuck he needs a shower.

The ice cold water hits his back but it's not helping. He wraps his hand around his cock. Keeping his noises to a minimum as he jerks himself off to the thought of you. He bites his lip as he thinks of every way he can make you scream tomorrow. Show you what it's like to be fucked by a real man.

The sinful thoughts that fill his head drive him over the edge. He slams his hand against the shower wall as he comes. The water running down his back as he catches his breath. You've already got him interested, he just hopes he can put on a real show tomorrow.

-

When Logan gets to the studio the director tells him the "plot" of this video. Plot being a very loose term here. He's supposed to be the failing college senior while you play the hot young professor. They hand him a white button up a size too small and some fake glasses. He laughs as they place the glasses onto his face.

"No one's going to fucking buy this." The buttons threaten to bust open as they start to fix his hair.

"I don't know, you look pretty convincing to me." He looks up to see you smiling at him.

Already dressed in your shoot clothes with your makeup and hair all done. He shamelessly looks you up and down, licking his lips as his eyes settle on your cleavage.

"I'm a little old to be playing a college student don't you think?" You shrug and walk closer to him. You take your hands and run them through his hair, trying to flatten the parts that stick up but they don't want to listen.

"Don't think any one is watching these for the realism Logan." You wink as you then move to fix his glasses.

He clenches his jaw as he tries to contain the raging boner. He shouldn't be hard yet but here he is. You're driving him crazy.

"Promise to go easy on you, don't want to scare my new favorite coworker." You tease. Your nails scratch along his jaw, just for a moment but it's enough to drive him wild.

"I'm your favorite already Sunshine?" Logan says with a grin.

"For now, don't prove me wrong when the cameras are on us." You walk away and Logan enjoys every second of it. Oh this is going to be fun.

-

"Come on teach, your class is the only one I'm failing. I need to get a C to graduate." Logan's massive frame towers over your desk. His lines come out much more flirty than its supposed to but you roll with it.

"You need a lot of extra credit to make up the missing assignments Mr. Howlett." You stand up and walk over to where he was standing.

Pushing on his chest to get him to sit. You smirk when you see the buttons on his shirt fighting for their life. You sit on top of the desk and pretend to think.

"I'll do anything you want. Anything" Logan growls, his hand resting on your thigh now. Slowing inching up your leg, stopping right at the hem of your pencil skirt. You place your heel onto his shoulder. Spreading your legs so that Logan and the camera can see your lack of panties.

"Well, lets see how bad you want it." You taunt.

Your voice is smooth as butter and it drives him nuts. Logan gets on his knees. Ripping your skirt apart with ease making you gasp. That wasn't in the script but fuck it made you wet. His muscles are bulging in that damn shirt and you want to see what's underneath in person. Sadly that was going to have to wait as he trails kisses up your legs. Wet and sloppy as his grip on your hips is ironclad.

The camera moves to capture Logan's face. Seeing the primal hunger in his eyes as he grabs the hem of your panties with his teeth, dragging them down. He stands up with them still in his mouth. You grab onto his shirt and rip it open. Raking your nails down his very toned chest. You grab your underwear out of his mouth and toss it to the side.

"Good boy." You purr as you push on his shoulders.

He gets back onto his knees and wastes no time diving into your cunt. You fall back onto the desk as Logan takes you apart with his tongue. Moans and whimpers fall from your lips with ease. There is no need to fake your pleasure with him between your legs.

He's hungry, ravenous. Logan can't get enough. He holds your legs apart, keeping you from closing them as he zeros in on your clit. He's ruthless. Refusing to give you a moment to breathe as he loses himself in your pussy.

"You taste sweeter than I imagined." He growls off script. If he wasn't bringing you to orgasm you'd wonder what he meant by that. You wonder if he watched your videos just like you had.

"Logan!" You moan as your legs start to shake under the intense pleasure.

"That's it teach, let me taste you come on." His dirty mouth makes your head spin.

Your eyes squeezing tight as he pushes you over the edge. You barely even notice the camera as it positions itself over Logan's shoulder. Logan resist the urge to break the damn thing as it gets in his way. He feels a push on his shoulder and he growls. Reluctantly he gets out of the way and uses his thumb to rub your clit.

"I have an idea teach," Logan purrs. He pulls you off the desk. Wrapping an arm around you and grinding his clothed cock against your thigh.

"For every orgasm I can pull out of you, you raise my grade by a letter." He breathes into your neck, inhaling your scent. You sigh as his hands start to grope and squeeze your breasts.

"What do you say?" He grins as he feels you squirm under his touch. He unbuttons your blouse and tosses it to the side. Mouth watering as he buries his face in your breasts.

"You better get to work then Mr. Howlett. You're at a D right now." You turn around and bend over the desk. His hands run along your body before he unbuckles his pants.

"I'll show you a D." He grumbles. You have to stifle a laugh at his words.

The camera moves to show your face as Logan slides his cock inside of you. He throws his head back in pleasure as he gets to feel your tight cunt. Now this is what he was waiting for.

"Come get a shot of this." He whispers to himself.

He drags his cock out slowly. He watches in awe as your cute pussy just sucks him up. Your hands are digging into the desk, clawing at the wood as Logan's massive cock pushes its way in. You knew he was big but to actually feel it in person. Fuck.

"That feel good? You like my big cock hm?" Logan's cocky tone makes you moan as he picks up his pace. He's pummeling your poor pussy with no mercy. Your moans are as real as they can get as you cry and whine with each thrust.

"Logan oh god!" Your eyes cross as his cock hits a sensitive spot.

No one's ever hit that before. You're falling apart. Your chest heaves as you try and catch your breath but your moans quiet down because of it. Logan doesn't like that one bit. You groan as you feel his hand grab your hair. He pulls you up so that your back is arched. His cock somehow pushing its way deeper.

"Come on baby, don't hide from me." He whispers in your ear. He wraps an arm around your chest to hold you up. Your nails dig into his arm to ground yourself.

"Feel so fucking good, jerked myself off last night to your videos." He mumbles so only you can hear. You don't understand how a man can have so much stamina. He doesn't even seem tired.

"So fucking close I can feel it baby. I can feel the way your cunt clenches around my fat cock. I can hear her pulsing for me." His eyes grow dark as he feels you start to lose it.

His rough fingers sliding down to play with your cunt. It's a filthy sight to watch. You've forgotten about the cameras and the crew. The only thing you can feel is Logan. He's taken over your mind, your senses.

"That's it pretty girl." He bites your shoulder and the pain mixes with pleasure.

"Fuck!" You wail as you come hard around his cock. Logan groans in pleasure and comes before he can really stop himself. Filling you up nice and full as you babble incoherently. You can barely get your lines out as you float between the real world and cloud nine.

"You got your C Mr. Howlett." You've never been this wrecked after a scene before but Logan has completely ruined you. You grin at the feeling of his cum seeping out of you.

"You know, I've always wanted an A." He's grinning like the devil as he thrusts his hips once more making you cry out.

He's still fucking hard. He really is every porn studios wet dream. Hot, sexy, can go for round after round. The director calls cut but Logan doesn't let go of you. You've got this dazed look in your eyes and he gently lays you down on the desk.

"You alright?" He grunts as he slips out of you. His cock still standing straight as someone brings him a robe. He grabs a towel from one of the PA's and gently wipes up your legs. You whine as the rough material brushes against your poor pussy.

"Sorry." You just smile in response. You haven't had a fuck this good in a long time. A crew member brings you a robe and you put it on.

"You really know how to use that thing. For a second I thought you were the seasoned professional." You joke as you try and get off the desk. You stumble and Logan is quick to catch you.

"What can I say Sunshine, you made it easy." He flirts. The director calls his name and he rolls his eyes.

"Don't keep him waiting Logan. I'll see you soon." Another crew member comes to help you as Logan lets you go.

Thankfully this was all you had for the week and you could go home and soak in a bath. Your poor legs are going to need it. After signing a few things and getting next weeks shoot list you can finally go home.

"Sunshine, hope I didn't fuck you too good." Logan says with a wink. He's waiting outside of the studio, a cigar in his mouth.

"I regret whatever I said before, your ego is going to get too big." You joke. He shrugs and puts out his cigar on the ground.

"You got any plans?" He asks. Your dressed in normal clothes now, nothing remotely revealing but Logan still thinks you look gorgeous.

"I could take you to lunch, if you're interested." He offers.

You haven't thought about dating since you started working in this industry. You didn't need a partner and it could be hard trying to find one who understood your job. But Logan flashes that handsome smile and for some reason you can't resist.

Maybe your working backwards here. He fucks you and then you go to lunch but hey, nothing about him is conventional anyways.

"Yeah, lunch sounds good."

Its just lunch, you tell yourself. It's only a meal with your hot coworker. If things were to go further though you wouldn't complain. Certainly not when he's as handsome as he is. You definitely wouldn't mind taking him back to your place and you're certainly okay when he promises he can go for more rounds away from the prying eyes of the camera. But for now it's just lunch. He pays and you give him your number.

Logan and you part ways and he prays he sees you again. Not just at work but outside of it too. You've got him hooked. The video gets uploaded and explodes in popularity. Praising how realistic it felt and how hot both of you were. He gets a call from the director, expecting another update on his next shoot.

"Great news man! Sunshine wants to do exclusive shoots with you. Oh this is going to make us so much money." He tunes out the rambling as his phone dings. A smirk appearing on his face when he sees a text with your name pop up.

Want to rehearse our next scene? my place 7pm <3