#watcher five asks

[ask-rain-world-characters]

Okay, this is for everyone who wants to answer.

You are given a choice. You will have immortality, and millions of dollars (or something else you may want,) but there's a catch. There is a snail that knows where you are at all times, and its only goal is to make its way to you. Once it touches you, you die. Do you take the offer? If so, what will you do?

Survivor's Answer:

Hunter's Answer:

Watcher's Answer:

Gourmand's Answer:

Rivulet's Answer:

Enot's Answer:

Five Pebbles' Answer:

No Significant Harassment's Answer:

Sliver of Straw's Answer:

Nightcat plush image - @areon103 Transcripts:

Survivor: "See answering this question is redundant because no matter what scheme I cook up, the decoy snail can never be beaten, apparently. Trust me. I've tried."

Hunter: “Immortality is an iffy choice, and I don’t really need all that money… but I’d gladly trade it in for something else! So yes! I’ll take whatever challenge you give me, amigo! For I am the great and mighty-“ *ding dong! “huh? Hold that thought i have a guest! Who is it?” ”… oh no.”

Watcher: "No, I don't think I will take offer no matter what... but I heard this one before, and I think you forgot to make snail immortal as well... also what is a dollar?"

Gourmand: "I don't think we'd need anything more than what we currently have. Honestly, things have been going quite well for us! And with the immortality, well... some are already suspecting that there's some finicky force, that prevents one from dying. And I'm starting to think they might be right - so I don't think I'd need that either. But if someone else accepted this, I think I could take a shot at making that Snail for you. .......you want it?"

Rivulet: "Alright listen, sure the snail could theoretically kill me in one blow because of weird technicalities surrounding this arbitrary challenge, BUT, you have to consider the fact on how slow this snail is, I could do multiple laps on the snail, and he won't have any chance of grazing me a single time. So, yes! I would take the million dollars, it's, the easiest million dollars I've gotten in my li-" *Faint stream of noise is heard from afar* Wait, what is that sound...? *A jet squid comes by at a alarmingly high speed, with the snail being on top* "AAAAAHH-" *splatter* *Rain World death SFX plays*

Enot: "...'anything I want'? ...does that happen to include a date? ...maybe 8? ...sign. me. uuuuuuuup! Besides I can just kill it with one of my good ol' eggs, a snail cant be that resilient!"

Five Pebbles: "…What a ludicrous question. There are so many specifics to be questioned regarding this - does touching ‘me’ count as my facility? My can? Or My puppet? Far too many complications. Though I suppose I could simply wish for ascension, and the ordeal would be over with immediately, would it not? I highly doubt there is any way for this snail to reach ascension as well, so I’m assuming that would be the end of it."

No Significant Harassment: "Well, I think I already have the immortality part covered, and I don't have much use for money, but that is an interesting conundrum. I suppose if there were a way I could trap the snail so it couldn't reach me, it would be the perfect solution."

Sliver of Straw: What an interesting thought experiment. I am already immortal, to some degree. Nor do I have any record of what "dollars" are in my database, although it seems to be a kind of currency. I believe this question was posed for my creators, rather than my own kind. I'm afraid they aren't around anymore. Regardless! It can be fun to entertain these kinds of meaningless hypothetical experiments. After all, that's what we do; experiment! Over, and over, and over again. I've heard of snails before, but they aren't native to my area. They're wetland animals. It would certainly have to travel a considerable distance to reach me! And once it does, what specifically counts as "me"? My can would be the most obvious answer, but even then it can be difficult to define where one thing ends and another begins. The many pipes, bores, reserves, and disposal units that make up my facility grounds are as much a part of me as they are vital to my function, but they have no consciousness. Do I die if it touches one of my overseers? Once it touches me, how exactly do I die? There are far too many variables here to consider the full picture in complete objective fact, which is rather an important thing to do when my hypothetical life is on the line. Then again, very few theories we study are based in much fact anymore. We only have blissful hope left. Well, and old scriptures. Oh, I got distracted! ....Anyway, I don't take the offer, I have no use for items of monetary value. Is sending the snail to the Void Sea out of the question?

[dingoat]

SOME ASKS. For 5: alone, betrayal, bound, break, failure, fear, guilt, secret (but NOT his SISTER). 8)

Wow this is all going behind a read more because holy cow there's a lot. Five. How. How did you come to be like this. You were never meant to survive the first act.

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there’s no one around to see them?

Historically, Five has been very good at being alone, considering that was his preferred way to exist for much of his life. He withdrew completely from wanting or needing anyone else after losing his sister, and managed to thrive on his own. And during those years of his life, pretty much every moment he spent in public was an act of some sort; every bit of charm, everything polite and formal and proper, whether in the office reporting to Keeper or the latest Sith meddling in Intel, whether out actively winning over the Kaas public as Lord Highbridge, or working in any one of his numerous other cover identities, every interaction he had was carefully considered, fabricated, manipulated. Who he was beyond these acts was irrelevant, though he would definitely make sure to seek complete solitude for a couple of explicit purposes; to express his grief, and to engage in his preferred methods of target practice.

Nowadays his life is a little more full, a little more complicated, and finding himself alone for reasons not of his design is very unpalatable. He'll do almost anything to keep his mind busy to avoid spiralling into unwelcome emotions.

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

I'll start with the latter because that's easy. Yes, absolutely, all the time, a lot ahahahaha. Taking advantage and betraying the trust of people around him quite literally made him the success he was, both as a celebrity and an Imperial agent. Almost everyone who's ever crossed his path has likely been betrayed by him in some way or another, though he's also been pretty good about covering his tracks and never taking the blame for the repercussions. He did an absolute number on Blakk, but eventually pushed things so far that his hubris definitely got the better of him and that might still come back to bite him further one of these days.

And for the former? I think it could be said that Thirteen's amazing vanishing act the night Ahuska got away was a distinct act of betrayal. Good thing Five is a master of denial and quite a pro at not asking questions he'd rather not have to face the answers to.

bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

The thing about the early part of Five's life is that it was designed to be the setup for a man who had always succeeded, who had always won at everything he put his mind to. He was built as the villain of the piece, the big bad, and I didn't want a shred of humility about him. So, up to the point that he's actually been fully written, no, he's certainly never been captured against his will, though I wouldn't rule out instances of manufacturing a 'capture' as part of a cover scenario in his early Intel days.

However, since Five did not in fact die during the dramatic culmination of many plot points, and he's been given the chance to start seeing some new perspectives, explore new ideas for the future, and step aside for fresh villains to start stirring the pot, there's a lot of room for things to go wrong for him now. And of course, there's the whole five years in carbonite in store for him, which he will be broken out of and is absolutely going to mess him up just that little bit more.

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

Well, his childhood trauma definitely broke him, and when the people who were supposed to support him through it gave him effectively nothing, he vowed to never allow anyone to see him that low ever again. And he was pretty much able to hold himself to that vow until he lost his arm to Ahuska's Force rend, which definitely broke him for the short term. I'm still not over the absolutely graceful, beautiful way Thirteen handled him through that period of being quietly shut down in his hospital bed.

Five is also going through a bit of something right now, where events have lead him to start studying mental health, therapy and treatment options. What he's learning is definitely causing him to crumble, but at this stage all of his ugly crying has been very private.

Something that is absolutely going to make him snap, though, and completely break in the semi-fleshed-out kotfe era, is when he attempts to reach out to Thirteen after a string of disagreements, and Thirteen shuts him down and walks away. This is going to cause a very brutal regression of so much character development and it's gonna hurt.

failure: What’s your OC’s greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

Currently, Five's greatest failure is definitely his total, abysmal failure to contain and tame 'his' werewolf. Had he not been of such a gloriously egotistical, infallible, bigoted mindset, had he actually made more of an effort to understand his team emotionally and to see Ahuska as a person, things might have gone very very differently. She might have even wound up a willing member of his squad. But as it was, all of those unsavoury qualities caught up with him in one fell swoop, and all his team knows that he was unable to hold things together. However, thanks in large to the combined efforts of Crow, Ulfran and even Thirteen to keep the rest of the galaxy off Ahuska and Blakk's backs, they were able to completely cover for the incident and have both escapees officially recorded as dead; Blakk heroically so, and Ahuska as ultimately out of control.

Five was forced to step away from his obsession and turn his focus to other things, otherwise he would have to own up to the lie and admit to a far more grave failure than Imperial records would believe. And so he did, and it has been very, very good for him, and the other Ciphers under his command.

fear: What is your OC’s greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

Once upon a time, Five's greatest fear would probably have been something along the lines as dying as a nobody, being unremarkable and forgotten to time.

Now, though? I think losing Thirteen is probably what strikes very real terror into him. He wouldn't be open about it, not something so very deep and real to him, though he may elude to it in gestures and roundabout whispers, in little romantic comments that don't at all feel like an admission of fear in the context they're given.

When truly faced with it, though, as mentioned above- it breaks him.

In another context, say if Thirteen's life were threatened rather than Thirteen himself choosing to walk away, I can see Five going into overdrive. Cold, ruthless, violently protective, and not even thinking about resting until every hint of that threat was obliterated.

guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

Ha, Five does not handle guilt well. Of course there's survivor's guilt with regard to his sister, which he handled by growing up into a monster of a human being. There's the guilt he feels over 'the flagpole incident' which he deals with by refusing to ever actually acknowledge it aloud but allows himself to be completely wrapped around Thirteen's little finger to make up for it.

More recently and very gravely though, he's feeling a very intense, unpleasant guilt over his failure to properly address and help Thirteen through his phobia and related traumas, the repercussions of which recently got dragged through Intel's internal justice system in a very ugly fashion. Five has actually taken very heavy, serious responsibility for it and is actively working at bettering himself, determined not to let indulgence and denial get the better of him and Thirteen again.

secret: What’s one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

I want to say something about how deeply emotional he really is... but honestly, he adores Thirteen and actually does want Thirteen to know the full extent of how loved he is.

So, failing that.... hmm, there's at least one cover identity he enjoys that he never wants anybody to link to him.

He also definitely doesn't want anyone to know his usernames in certain spaces of the holonet.

He also absolutely definitely very much never ever ever wants anyone to find the folder of commissioned artwork he keeps on his personal computer hahaha.

[chaosandbeyond]

goodbye watcher i guess

[blitheringbongus]

Can't believe Scar saw a rapidly approaching, dishevled mumbo and went "he's so cute." I need to run unorthodox experiments on them.

IKR SAME OMG

They’re literally perfect for each other <- delusional

But seriously they have so much lore together in my silly brain and the few interactions they do have (WHICH HAS BEEN INCREASING A LOT LATELY MAY I ADD) has been FUELING the fire rapidly and gods gods GODS do I have many thoughts about them

[thatneoncrisis]

ngl, oh captain my captain, I'd go god damn crazy for an Arcane rewrite and what you'd do with it. Like hot damn I'd eat that au up and just replace the show in my mind with it.

Any, like, specific ideas in mind for what you'd change up/add?

well i Just woke up and its six in the morning so ill have to circle back to this but i will say that basically ever idea i had was centered on jinx caitlyn and violet. not that i dont think that other stuff couldn't be messed with but 1 thats the shit that i dont like the most and 2 considering the marketing and framing of the show those three are like The main characters so focusing on them like. centered things in my mind. they are the eye of the hurricane so to speak

[cyberdragoninfinity]

The first time I watched 5ds I was so out of it that I legit convinced myself that "Aporia" was three different people and not just the same person at three different stages of his life. i think my entire basis was just like "why he go from red to white hair as a teen??" and also i think i thought the little kid version was a girl lmao. no idea what i was smoking

AGAIN TO BE FAIR I DONT EVEN THINK THOSE ARE THAT OUTLANDISH AN ASSUMPTION(S) TO MAKE everything about Aporia in actual practice in show is bonkers. His gender is operating at unfathomable levels even for yugioh character standards. He got so traumatized by the robot apocalypse his hair went grey and completely changed shape. Why does he have three different eye colors. I love him so much but I can't fault anyone for struggling with wrapping their head around. His Everything HJDHJGSDF

[samuraisharkie]

and hey to the people acting like no one wants to pay for these Struggling Artists do you guys have any clue how much they make from Patreon alone. Even after Patreon gets their cut. Do you guys have any clue how much the live shows net them. Hell YouTube itself can still be incredibly lucrative, look at the way GMM does things. Watcher isn’t even close to the same situation as DropOut, and will not succeed in the same way. They could have tried YouTube Membership, Nebula, hell putting more content on Patreon (which is already $6 at the lowest and that’s deemed like nothing at all worth respect apparently). Anything that would maintain their discoverability and international fans. This sketchy ass website they’ve gotten themselves and which all their future content will be locked behind is both not worth sending $6 to during a global crisis nor is it viable for their business. It’s also not even available outside of the states, not to mention how much more expensive six dollars is in Canada to say nothing of places like India or Brazil or Russia where the cost of the US dollar is significantly higher. Not to mention they are suffering from money bc they hired all their L.A friends and don’t have enough money to pay all of them PLUS spend for their over produced, over edited, bland “tv shows” AND have to finance Steven Lim’s personal greed as he endeavors for everyone to pay for his Tesla and his fancy food and travels. This isn’t a creative difference this is just plain stupid.

I can’t wait to see how badly this new business venture of Watcher’s fails. I hope Steven Lim’s America centric self obsessed ass loses everything and has to sell his Tesla and bullshit matcha machine and whatever else bougie shit he has and LEARNS how valuable $6 is, not just in the US but everywhere else. This is going to crash and burn and I can’t wait to see the decline.

[stunie]

“SHH…. KEEP IT QUIET.”

╰ ❤︎ ft. gen narumi (kaiju no. 8) x cat hybrid! f!reader. 4.2K WC ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⭑

summary ᯓ⭑ : narumi’s back to streaming one of his games.. again?! well.. he’s gotta get that follower count up somehow, so today he’s got his dick inside his newest pet- but remember. it’s just cock warming, ok? nothing more. dumb cat .. listen here. make this look, in his words, ‘not so suspicious,’ and he just might give u a reward later if u can do a half decent job.

contains : explicit smut (18+), cat hybrid! reader, brat taming, cock warming, creampies, cum play, degradation, dirty talk, dumbification, hate sex? kind of, heavy overstimulation, mild exhibitionism & dacryphilia (barely), fingering, oral sex (cunninglingus), orgasm control?, pet play n pet names, squirting, teasing, unprotected sex, not proofread >_<

note : aaand the first fic on this blog is up !!! am seriously hoping u all have fun reading this one <3 i had such a blast writing it ^^

“Better start quieting down,” Narumi warns, grunting as he adjusts his position on his gaming chair before his fingers are rapidly clicking at his mouse. “Stream’s about to start in about… thirty seconds or so.”

You don’t have to look in his direction for him to sense the clear disdain in the glare you’ve got plastered across your face. He feels you bury your nose into the muscles of his shoulder as you try and steady your breathing, arms wrapped loosely around his neck in a weak attempt at staying hidden from his viewers- try and make it look like you weren’t just gushing all over Narumi’s face a minute or two ago.

It all happened too fast.

You hadn’t even recovered from the orgasm he ripped out of you five minutes ago when he had you flat on your stomach to spread you open with his fingers before burying his face inside your cunt, lapping, sucking, then fucking his tongue in and out of you. And actually… you don’t even recall him wiping the juices from his chin before shoving you on his lap. For all you know, your slick could still be all over his face right now in front of thousands to see.

Had he given you time to catch your breath, you wouldn’t be here playing this little game right now.

“I'm not even ready, you asshat,” you hiss under your breath, whisper coming out unsteady with the way his fat cock forces your walls to stretch in order to accommodate his thickness, walls still fluttering from the effects of your last high. Only now, you're clenching around his dick instead of his tongue. You think you heard Narumi scoff at this, but he's greeting his watchers only a second later.

With the way his arms are coming up to wave to them, followed by a dramatic slam of his hands onto his desk at a particularly provoking comment (most likely from hoshina), it doesn't take you very long to start squirming in his lap. Each movement Narumi makes has his fat tip prodding at your gummy walls, and it's becoming increasingly harder to stay quiet like this..

You'd never admit it, but he's big. On any other day, you think you'd be more willing to agree to be his little pet cocksleeve; keep his dick nice and warm for him while he tries to rank up in this game. But today is different. He's got you needy, got you gushing over his tongue, and it leaves you feeling greedy for something thicker.

Your pointed ears perk up at the abrupt sound of his mouse clicking around, your tail eagerly swishing side to side as you imagine the types of comments flooding his inbox at the sight of you. Do they think you're cute? It's not obvious that you're all soaked and needy, is it?

If only Narumi let you turn around and see for yourself.

You wouldn't ask him, of course. Not a chance. Stay planted on his dick, stay quiet, and if no one suspects you, it was your win. And your reward? Two free orgasms from Narumi. However way you want- he might add.

“Oh geez,” Narumi's sigh pulls you out of your thoughts. “Already asking about her?”

“She's napping. Yeah— so let's talk about me,” He babbles into his mic, and his free hand starts to roam around the swell of your ass. “You all should head to your instagram before we get started. Let everyone know she's sound asleep on my shoulder right now. That's just how safe she feels around me.”

You think it's a good thing he decided to have you face his direction rather than the screen, because you didn't want to have to listen to the earful he'd give you if the viewers had caught you rolling your eyes at him for the umpteenth time that day. Regardless, the slick pooling underneath you was getting more and more uncomfortable with each passing second, and you're becoming keenly aware of the sheer amount that's dripped down your thighs, now collecting and smearing across his lap.

And you don't really like feeling wet.

A small shift in position is all you do. You're quiet and slow when you raise your hips a bit, just barely hovering above his thighs in your attempt to get rid of the slick that's making his thighs lewdly stick to yours, but he catches the shift in weight in an instant.

“Ah— stirring already, cat? This chair's supposed to be comfy, y'know,” He drawls, not sparing you a glance when you flinch at the words, still clicking away at his game all too casually. So casually that you don't even react when his hand wraps around your tail, not until he roughly yanks you back down in one hard motion.

You're crashing back onto his lap, thickness sheathing itself fully inside you as your mouth falls open in a silent scream, tongue lolling out at the fullness. You think it's absolutely appalling just how easily he's able to mask his reaction by simply adjusting himself on his chair, taking advantage of the movement by giving you a warning thrust into your cunt before he's still again. “No, what?” He snaps, ignoring the way you're practically panting into his ear with need now. “She's definitely comfortable. Very happy to be here, actually.”

“I’m not lying. She loves me.”

You hate that it's not exactly an understatement. The word “loves” has your mind flashing to the events of last night, more specifically- the image of you crying and trembling underneath him, fistful of his hair tight in your hands as you desperately cling onto him, babbling “I love you” over and over as he mercilessly bullied his cock into you.

It's even worse because you know he absolutely loved every second of it. Every second that you're not acting like such a fucking brat, which- to his dismay, wasn't very many.

Narumi's eyes shift towards the side of his screen, scanning through the newest comments that have popped up in his inbox.

Enchantedknight46: u sure ur not forcing her to keep u company Imao ?

tooezusuck: it's ok if u are

12steelwing: Did u bring here on here be u lost more followers last stream? Need eye candy to gain some?

Batmansballs: I think she's pretty so idrc, but what's that? A cat costume?

His eyes twitch. A part of him is wholeheartedly thankful you've got your head buried in the crook of his neck, glad you're not reading these comments. God, he's irritated just imagining how these fuckers would get in your head so easily, get you swinging your tail all happy and purr something along the lines of “Aww, they think I’m cute? Better make me feel good if you want me to stay here with you. They kinda look like they'd take good care of me, huh Gen?”

He sighs before he's clicking his tongue, raising his other hand to roughly jut an accusatory finger at the screen. “Can't just watch my game, huh? Listen up. When I wake her up and she says I'm right, you all better start typing your apologies” He grits through a forced smile, ripping his headset off before it's being tossed haphazardly onto his desk.

You hiss when he's tugging you by your ear, tilting to whisper a “hear that?” and the sound of his voice sends an electrifying shiver straight down your spine. “They wanna see you. But don't go forgetting our deal already. Just one person notices and it's a loss for you.”

“Don't forget.”

It's not like Narumi's worried about losing or anything. Just one quick glance at your face and he can tell you're going crazy with need, frustrated tears collecting along your lashes, and your lips are all swollen and pouty. Most likely from... biting them to stay quiet? A very interesting observation.

He'd make sure to tease you about that later.

“I hate you sometimes.” Your whisper comes out strained, followed by a whimper that slips out when his cock involuntarily twitches inside you. Oh, that's right. He actually likes when you get mad at him- that fucker.

You're inhaling sharply, gathering yourself to the best of your ability before you finally pull yourself off of him, heavy cock slapping against his stomach as you turn, feet planted on his thighs when you reach to grab his headset. Narumi's eyes are trailing down your frame the next second, and if those viewers weren't here right now, he could probably fuck you just like this. Have your hands grip the table, move your feet a bit so that you're balancing on the edge of the seat, squatting just above him and letting him fuck his dick up into you just like that..

“Hello? Can you guys hear me?” You blurt out, voice sugar sweet and innocent, and he almost wants to gag at the implication. You were absolutely anything but. “Ah— so you can! That's good.”

There's a moment of silence as you cutely adjust the headset, glossed lips tugging into a pout with the way it doesn't sit right against your ears. Narumi's leaning back behind you, elbow on the armrest as he rests his head against his palm. He looks bored even.

“Hmmm,” you hum, eyes scanning over the comments... and yeah, they love you. Your pretty lips tug into a knowing smile after scanning comment after comment as they all begin to flood in, all of them saying the exact same thing. But how could they not? You were just a sweet little kitten, fluffy and innocent, and you emphasize this with a slow and alluring sway of your tail, eyes half lidded and completely seductive as you lean in towards the cam.

“Mhm, I guess I love him....” You shrug, feigning disappointment, “But hey. You guys love me way more, right? I can totally tell.”

You feel Narumi perk up from behind you in disbelief, head lifting from where's he had it resting it on his hand. A slow blink. Then two.

Did you just fucking say ‘I guess?’

“Mhm!” You nod at a comment, and he feels his veins bulge against the skin of his neck. “Deal. So why don't you all leave him and come watch me play instead? My user is st-agh!”

The rest of your words come out muffled against the palm he's clamped over your mouth. You recognize it as the same one that was rubbing at your cunt just a few minutes ago, and you can tell because you can taste yourself on him.

“Mmph!” You retort, gasping when he's roughly pulling you back into his lap, chair scooting forward as he grabs his mouse. “Streams over,” his voice comes out a pitch lower, “Said she loves me. Start typing up the apologies.”

He's leaning to switch off the stream the next second, and it falls eerily silent as soon as the in-game lobby music abruptly shuts off. You fiddle with your tail, chuckling nervously as you crane your neck to get a glimpse of Narumi... and you really shouldn't have.

He looks mad.

Before you can even get a word out, Narumi's tossing you onto his bed, and you yelp as soon as your back hits the mattress. He doesn't give you a second to even gasp, his hands looping around your ankles and pulling you back towards the edge of the bed until his cock is flush against your drooling cunt. “Huh. You're a real fucking naughty kitten, know that? Anyone ever told you what a piece of work you are?”

He hates that you're getting off to this. If you weren't on your back, your tail would be eagerly whishing back and forth, ears peeking up with anticipation from the change in tone. He'll admit that he likes when you're mad, but you're not much different from him. It's obvious with the way you keep glancing down at his cock, and he thinks you might as well just stare at it with little pink hearts in your eyes.

“Just you,” you shake your head, “Everyone else says I’m an angel, Gen. Your viewers too, apparently.”

There's a warning thrust to your cunt, your eyes widening when his tip catches against your clit just perfectly, and the sound the action makes is nothing but filthy — wet and sloppy. Narumi's hands slam down beside your head, looming over you as your walls clench around nothing. “Yeah? Wanna talk about my viewers?”

“Take a look at the screen behind me. It's got my exact follower count.”

You crane your head to peer over his shoulder. “And?” His lips tug into a grin. “We're changing the game a bit.”

“Not fair, Gen,” you pout, eyes furrowed as your tail comes to rub the softness against his bicep. “I won, so you gotta make me cum twice now.”

“Yeah yeah, well the count's at 18,567 now. Get on your knees before I forget.”

Narumi's easily hoisting you up before you can move yourself, rudely flipping you over and letting your hands scramble to catch yourself, face falling flat against the mattress. But it's fine, he thinks, because cats always land on their feet, or whatever.

“It's at 18,566 now by the way, thanks to you.”

“They would've left either way!” You protest, eyes clenching shut in pain when he grabs a fistful of your tail. “And i don't care about your follower count.”

“You should. Each loss is gonna be plus one for you.”

“Huh?”

He sighs. “18,565... so that would make four orgasms now. Two plus two, my dumb kitty. It's not very hard.”

The realization suddenly hits you, and you crane your neck to look at him. “That's not fair! And that's way too much, I'd never agree to tha-”

One sharp tug to your tail has you biting your words.

“Way too much?” He asks incredulously, kneeling at the foot of his bed, “Didn't think the ungrateful cat would ever be satisfied.”

You flinch as soon as you feel his breath fanning against your cunt, and he notices. You look absolutely delicious like this, pussy pretty and swollen- and completely drenched for him. His fingers are spreading your folds, content with the way your tail starts to sway like clockwork. “But,” you whine, “You lose so many followers. I'll be here forever.”

His eyebrow twitches at the implication.

“That's your fault— you have yourself to blame,” Narumi pushes a finger inside your hole, the digit curling against your walls as you cry out. It takes him a little less time to find your spot each time you're under him. By now... he's got it memorized. Could probably find it in his sleep, he thinks, you're so easy. He'd be able to find it blindfolded too, but it'd be such a breeze that it's not even worth buying a blindfold to find out. “You take a bunch of my followers,” he continues, “And I use up one of those nine lives of yours. Yeah? So sit still.”

“You're the worst.” You pout, face contorting as soon as he slips in a second finger, curling skillfully against your sensitive spot, and oh- you feel his lips ghost just over your clit.

“Yeah yeah— about time I start hearing less talking and more meowing,” he grunts into your cunt, and he's lapping at your slick the next second, tongue roughly flicking over the pearl with precision, and his fingers aren't letting up, still beating your insides as you start to feel the familiar feeling build up deep in your belly.

“A-ah!” You cry out, hands grasping at the sheets as your tail whips upward, back arching deeply to relieve some of the stimulation. It's a lewd position you've got yourself in, and he loves it.

This was the best part.

Narumi can feel his cock ache when he feels your walls hungrily clench around his fingers, your desperate mewls muffled against the soft sheets of the mattress as he laps at your cunt. He loves watching you approach your high, loves the way the brat gets fucked out of you only after he gets you creaming, even if it's just for a bit.

And he's so sloppy with you. He's licking up and down, sucking at your clit before pulling back and lewdly spitting on it, his fingers making your pussy squelch and squirt as he fucks them in and out of you, and oh-if only you could see the way your slick has begun dripping down his wrists. “There you go,” he groans straight into your cunt, and it makes you jolt, “Hurry. I'm aching and it's annoying.”

“F-fuck…” you try to retort with something, anything, but the words get stuck in your throat. You can't. Not with the way your thighs have begun trembling, pretty eyes hazy and lidded as you feel the tight knot balling up in your stomach.

Again? And so soon? This would be the second time you've come undone on his mouth just today, and a part of you wonders what the count is at now— and exactly how you're gonna be able to handle it.

“...Ah! gonna c-cum,” your eyes clench shut, pointed ears twitching, and he's shoving a third finger inside a moment after, reaching deep inside you as his tongue keeps his pace against your swollen little clit. “Gen!”

Narumi's free hand loops around your thigh, pulling you flush against his face, his tongue roughly flicking your clit the same time he curls his fingers particularly hard, and that's all it takes to have you screaming, tail slapping across his face as you gush, the knot snapping inside you with an intensity that has your vision blurring with white.

“Fuckin' whacked my eye, you damned cat,” he growls, fingers slowing his movements as your walls spasm and flutter against him before he takes them out, thick string of slick connecting the two. His tongue is coming to push inside instead, and you cry out loudly when you feel him pushing deeper, appendage curling and reaching deep inside your pussy as he hungrily laps at your juices.

Even when your jaw falls slack, body going limp and falling flat onto the plush bed, he doesn't stop. He keeps you flush against his tongue, forcing you to let him have his fill until you've been reduced to nothing but a sloppy little mess, whining and shaking under his touch.

“E-enough…” You slur, chest heaving up and down in heavy pants as you come down from your high, vision now dotted with blurry little stars.

“Geez,” Narumi huffs, rising back to his feet as he swipes his thumb over his mouth, wiping your juices off before he's popping the digit in his mouth and sucking.“Your stamina sucks.”

“It's at 18,563 by the way, so get up. We're nowhere near finished. Consider this your training.”

You can't respond, and you can't move your legs. The way you struggle to get back on your knees has his ego stroked nice and good, but he's on quite the time crunch. Narumi’s reaching for your tail next, yanking your hips back up for him as you yelp in pain. “All talk, huh? Where's your usual spunk?”

He's roughly pulling you backwards, one quick yank of your tail to fully sheathe himself inside you, and your eyes roll back at the stretch. “Gonna put your nine lives to the test, so you'd better prepare yourself. We're already at 18,561 now and it's all your fault.”

The noises he's pulling from you are just obscene, and the grip he has on your tail is nothing but mean, pulling you back to meet his hips halfway as he pounds into you roughly, foot coming to rest on the edge of the mattress to better leverage himself. “You in heat or something? You're soaked. The bratty cat likes this, huh? Falling in love with me?”

“F-fuck no!” You cry into the mattress, hands scrambling to grasp at the sheets to ground yourself.

“S-said you're just alright— Gen...!”

He's looming over your form the next second, hand pushing your face down into the sheets, your thighs trembling wildly as you whine beneath him. You're way beyond your limit, legs using every ounce of strength left to keep your ass up for him. “Alright?” He spits,“Don't get too carried away— s-shit, don't go forgetting what you are now. My cat, you're my pet. And I’m your owner,” his hips stutter a bit, balls slapping against your clit as you mewl, eyes rolling back in your skull.

You can't even retort if you wanted to. Your back is arching all on its own to take him deeper inside, and he's not letting you move, hand pushing hard against your head to keep you still for him. “Ah, Gen, Gen-”

“That's it. Got you right where I want you, fuckin' pet. Boutta make a mess for me again? Say you love me when you do. Fuck, do that again— you know what.”

You think you might be bleeding from how hard you're gripping the sheets, the painful knot building up in your stomach all over again as you approach your high a little too fast for comfort. “C-close again..!”

“Hurry, lemme hear you. You know what I want.” His fingers come to rub at your swollen clit, and his cock pummels against a spot that has you abruptly crying out as you're thrown headfirst into your third orgasm, hot white flooding your vision as you spasm and squeeze around his cock so tightly. “F-gen! I love you— fuck, love you..!” You gasp when he doesn't slow down, tongue lolling out when you feel your cunt gushing, juices squirting all over his hips as he groans loudly.

“Yeah,” his voice sounds borderline feral, “Good fuckin' kitty. What? Want a treat?” and it's almost pathetic how quick you are to start nodding, eyes cock-drunk and lidded as he chases his own high.

“Well you're not getting one. Check the count yet? It's at 18,560. Know what that adds up to?”

How would you know? Your brain is all fuzzy, vision spotted with splotches of white and the words coming out of your mouth aren't even coherent anymore. The only thing in that mind of yours is how good Narumi feels, how his dick reaches the deepest parts inside you..

Feels so good, god— you love him. No one can do it like him.

“Times up,” he snaps, “That's plus one.”

His voice comes out a little breathless from how close he is, and your walls are tight around his length as your high starts to dissipate- suffocatingly tight. “Gonna give you your milk first, get you nice and full and we're gonna start all over again. How's that sound?”

Your whines are incoherent to him, but it doesn't matter. You're just a cat, anyway.

“F-fuck, stay still and take it,” he rasps, and it only takes him a few more thrusts, a few more until he's groaning loudly, cock spurting thick ropes of cum inside your cunt as you gasp underneath him.

A lot.

You're always in disbelief with the sheer amount, how he always fills you up to the brim, hot spurts shooting against your walls as he groans above you, fingers digging deep into your ass as he holds you still, making sure you're taking in every drop.

“Gen,” you choke, “The count...?”

There's an exasperated sigh from narumi before he's pulling out of you, hand coming to flip you over. The sight of you is really something, tear stained cheeks as you sniffle and hiccup, and oh— you look absolutely ruined, those pretty lips all swollen and pouty and the look you're giving him is to die for.

Your pussy is even worse. His cum has already started to seep out, fat droplets dripping straight onto the tail he knows you're so proud of, the one you're always waving so obnoxiously in his face. Now stained with his cum— as it should be. You're his pet, after all.

“Gonna take out the suit,” he says, “Let’s speed this up.”

[pathfinderyderss]

So hello! I'm sitting here stewing over the Watcher news. Like. I too, firmly believe in creators getting paid. But like, also, they have to create content people WANT to watch. I don't watch any of Steven Lim's stuff.

A lot of people have talked about it but, there's something so viscerally infuriating about watching someone eat, which is basically half of my paycheck or more on a single dish. I don't like it! I don't watch it. And the fact that they've confirmed that at least a portion of their content is going to be that moving forward means that that would be the content I'm paying for.

And I won't do it. I will go back and watch podcasts. I actually stopped listening to most of their content in favor of other channels at this point, like I swapped over a lot of the content to Simon Whistlers channels (shout out to him and his writing team) because it covers a lot of the topics that Watcher covered, but it greater detail and with the same-ish bias.

Sure. Creatives deserve to be paid for their work. But when you're asking your community, which is barely getting by, suffering record inflation and a housing crisis "please pay for our videos" the answer for a lot of them is going to be "no" because they can't afford it or don't think that the content you make is worth it.

You can make it about the righteousness of paying creators if you want, but realize, most of these people are supporting creators. I'm subscribed to about five patreons which are about the cost of Watcher. I do not value Watchers content more than these others creators I'm subscribed to currently, and will not cancel one of those subscriptions for this. And that's fine. One third of their content being unpalatable (haha) to me means it isn't worth that money.

So I'll unsubscribe. I'll watch other content and be on with it.

Edit: I'm home now and can add links for alternatives.

Decoding the Unknown > Historical Mysteries Channel, goes over things like The Bermuda Triangle, Jersey Devil, Urban Legends, etc.

The Casual Criminalist > What it says on the tin, True Crime Show, thoughtfully researched and abstains from unnecessary gore

Into the Shadows > Darker Social/Historical Topics

Biographics > Also what it says on the tin, Biographies of different people, spans all throughout history

Highlight History > Look into a variety of historical topics, unfortunately, does not have a gameshow-like element, but informative

[5bi5]

Thinking about Buffy saying strength and resilience are just words for hardness when she’s in the desert in season five and worried about losing her ability to love. How so often we are taught unhealthy ideas about what strength is and that stoicism (or anger) is good and right and that emotion and vulnerability and kindness are signs of weakness. That needing to rest or being unable to work or needing help is a personal failure. How Riley is resentful of Buffy not needing him, how later on Giles will leave her because he thinks she’s too dependent on him when she’s under a crushing amount of responsibility and grief at the age of only 21. Of the two other slayers Buffy knew, Faith refused to ask for help or admit to being scared or inexperienced or not knowing what to do and she ended up hurting a ton of people, losing everyone she cared about, and going to jail, and Kendra was taken away from her family and never allowed to have friends or a normal life in order to make her a better soldier, and ended up dead. How the Watchers Council fired Giles for loving Buffy. Again and again Buffy is taught that being the slayer means being cold and cut off and alone and losing everything that could give her a will to live until eventually she dies and welcomes it. That strength means sacrifice. But throughout the show when we see Buffy be emotionally strong or resilient, it’s motivated by her love and compassion for others. It’s her becoming a hero again in Anne because she can’t bear to see vulnerable people getting mistreated. It’s her going to fight the Master instead of quitting because she saw how scared Willow was and knew she couldn’t let her best friend feel that way. It’s her giving her life not because she has nothing left to live for, but because she has something desperately worth saving: her sister. Buffy’s strength is her kindness; she’s a hero out of love.

[sunni-stuff]

Good things happen to those who wait.

—★! Tags: NSFW, MDNI, AFAB! Slow?? Sex toys, a man way too big, size kink. Fingering.

★- Part 4 here!!

You regret missing it. The night GD streamed, you were stuck at work and time was not on your side. Even if you managed to show up, you doubted you could compete with those who had bottomless wallets for donations. By the time you got home, the stream had ended and a lucky winner had claimed their prize, leaving you frustrated at being outdone by someone with more money to spare.

After that, there was a complete lack of communication. No live streams, no new videos. Total silence for five long months. You couldn't help but constantly check his page, refreshing it so frequently that your browser started suggesting it the moment you typed in his name. It was necessary; what if he suddenly returned and started streaming while you weren't paying attention? That would be unacceptable. So you remained his dedicated watcher, eagerly anticipating his return to once again capture your heart and even cause some inevitable arousal.

With no new posts to peruse, you exhausted all of the content already shared on his page. His previous streams and videos became a regular part of your nightly routine – laptop open, legs spread, fingers working their magic as you reached climax again and again. But in just a matter of weeks, this routine grew stale and your fingers failed to satisfy you. You craved something real, something similar to the man who had become your obsession.

On your day off, you made a choice to be daring and try something completely new. Not too far from where you live, there was a sex shop with its bold black exterior and eye-catching logo, "Don't ask, Won't tell." You never thought you'd ever have a reason to step foot inside until today. Trying to remain inconspicuous, you dressed casually in a gray hoodie and shorts, praying that no one from your complex would spot you as you wandered around the small store.

You quickly located the Dildo section in the far corner of the store, it was strategically placed away from prying eyes, giving you the freedom to browse without feeling self-conscious. The selection was overwhelming; there were dildos of all shapes, sizes, and colors that you didn't even know existed. A row of bright and vibrant toys caught your eye, ranging from hot pink to deep purple. Upon closer inspection, you noticed that some were smaller than others and angled differently - some leaning more to the right or left. Curious, you read the label below that simply read "beginners." Were these meant for beginners? You couldn't help but feel a little cocky; surely you could handle more than just beginner-level toys.

Your gaze drifted down to the shelf below, where a collection of dildos labeled as "intermediate" caught your eye. They were all around 5 inches long, a decent size, and you found yourself reaching out to touch a deep blue one that fit perfectly in your palm. But upon closer inspection, it wasn't the right one. It wasn't like his - GD's. You needed something that would remind you of him.

So you moved on to the last row, where the sign in bright red read "Expert". These dildos were flesh-colored and ranged from 6-8 inches in size. They looked almost identical to his. You picked up a realistic-looking one with a caucasian skin tone, measuring at 7 pushing 8 inches. It was thick and veiny, standing tall and proud unlike the ones in the first row. This was the one you wanted - it was as close as you could get to experiencing him.

You approach the cashier, trying your best to avoid making eye contact with her. But her questioning look, as if asking "are you sure about this?", burns your face with embarrassment. The transaction is completed hastily, almost as if the cashier wants you out of the store before it becomes too awkward. You grab the discreet black bag from her hands and make a hasty exit.

You let out a deep sigh as you leave the shop, knowing all that was left to do was walk back to the apartment. It was a simple twenty-minute trek, maybe twenty-five if you got unlucky and had to wait for a red light at the stopwalk. You started on your way, clutching the shopping bag tightly, afraid that passerby's might try to peer inside. As you rounded the corner, a single raindrop landed on your head, followed by more until it was pouring without warning.

The unexpected downpour caught you off guard with little time to react. You were positive that the forecast called for clear skies, so you didn't bother bringing any protection. As droplets of water hit your skin, your eyes dart around in search of shelter. Finally, you spot the bus stop with its small roof offering some relief. With bare ankles splashing through puddles, you hurry towards it.

Taking shelter at the bus stop was a much better option than attempting to walk in this downpour. It was already raining hard enough to make a twenty-minute walk feel like eternity, and you would have been completely soaked if you had attempted it. Now, at least, you could relax a bit, knowing that you were somewhat protected and dry. All you had left to do was wait for the storm to pass. As you take out your phone from your pocket to check the weather app, a sudden shadow looms over you and a large figure squeezes into the small space next to you.

You quickly lifted your gaze from your phone and had to tilt your head back to meet the imposing figure who squeezed into the already cramped area. It was a man, who paid no attention to you whatsoever. He was wearing a black hoodie with the hood pulled tightly over his head and a black surgical mask covering his face except for his piercing brown eyes. Those same eyes locked onto yours as he noticed you staring at him.

Your body tensed up, and you averted your gaze, avoiding looking at him altogether. You couldn't help but think, "Could he be any more intimidating?"

The two of you stood next to each other in utter quietness for what felt like an eternity. He kept his gaze fixed ahead while you found yourself inexplicably fascinated by your own shoes. A sudden, loud splash caught your attention and you looked up just in time to see a group of children running by, gleefully splashing and playing in the puddles.

The combination of mud and water was heading straight towards you, ready to create a messy situation. But before it could hit you, he smoothly stepped in front and took the full force of the splash. He grunted as the liquid hit him, but he shook his head and glanced at the kids who seemed oblivious to the mess they had caused.

You were taken aback by his sudden actions, and you couldn't help but look back and forth between him and the mess on his previously spotless hoodie. The stain was large, surely leaving a big wet spot. "I- I mean, you didn't have to do that." You cursed yourself for saying the wrong thing as he raised an eyebrow. "Damn, that’s not what I meant."

He shakes his head and lets out a low chuckle. " 'S okay."

As soon as he spoke, you froze in place. His voice was unmistakably deep and one that you had heard before. You couldn't help but wonder if you were overreacting. Out of the corner of your eye, you observed him as he attempted to wipe away some moisture on his hoodie with a handkerchief. As far as you could tell, there were no visible tattoos on him.

Apart from that, you couldn't help but sympathize with him. He didn't have to do this at all. It was refreshing to see chivalry still existed, and the least you could do was assist him. "Do you live close by?" you inquire, causing him to pause and turn his gaze towards you.

They say that everything in life is predetermined by fate, and it seems like fate had a plan for you when you asked that seemingly innocent question. Little did you know, your simple act set off a chain reaction of events. He lived far away, but you couldn't let him go on with that stain on his hoodie. So after the rain stopped, you brought him back to your apartment complex and showed him to the laundry room.

“Just give me a moment to grab my detergent. The stuff the landlord gives us is terrible.” You told him, motioning for him to take a seat on the nearby chair, which he did without saying a word. You quickly went up to your apartment and threw the bag on the couch before heading into the bathroom to retrieve the detergent. As you headed back downstairs, the scene in front of you left you speechless.

The man had removed his jacket and tossed it into the laundry, his back tense and facing away from you. He was dressed in a grey t-shirt that revealed his defined forearms. You couldn't help but recognize the tattoos decorating his skin. Could it really be him?

You had to act casual, not let your excitement show. You didn't want to seem like some creep and scare him off like a desperate fool. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you approach him with a gentle smile and present the bottle of detergent. "This will make your hoody spotless and leave it smelling amazing."

He turns his masked face towards you, revealing dirty blonde hair and a weathered complexion. It's not the kind of wear and tear that comes with age, but something else. "You have a staring habit," he says bluntly, catching you off guard. You didn't even realize you were staring at him.

You feel like you're about to jump out of your skin, but you manage to compose yourself. "Sorry," you apologize quietly as you approach the washing machine. You pour in a generous amount of detergent for his jacket and close the lid with a firm click. "The washers here aren't great, so if you want, you can come up to my apartment until it's finished." Normally, you wouldn't invite a total stranger into your home, hell you wouldn't have even let him see which complex you lived in, but your curiosity gets the best of you.

He stands there with his arms crossed, scanning you from head to toe. His intense gaze makes you feel exposed, as if he can see right through you. "I'll only be here until it's finished," he says in a smooth yet cautious tone. After all, you are a stranger. He understands that and so do you.

With a nod, you lead him up to your apartment, locking it behind you once you step in last. He seems to pause, taking it all in, glancing around at every little thing but not touching.

After a brief nod of your head, you guide him up to your apartment and lock the door behind you as soon as you both enter. He takes a moment to survey the space, his eyes scanning every detail but not daring to touch anything. You set your keys down on the kitchen counter while he settles onto the couch, trying to get comfortable. His gaze falls upon the black bag resting nearby, and although he doesn't reach for it, he does lean in closer to see what's inside.

You step out, and he's back to his usual self, sitting motionless as if nothing had happened. You realize you completely forgot about the bag in your hand; it was an easy oversight. Smiling at him, you take a seat in the armchair across from him, but he catches you off guard. "You seem like the last person who would shop at that kind of store."

As he speaks, you feel a pang of confusion and want to confront him about his words. However, your attention is diverted by the black bag you left out in the open. Your face flushes with embarrassment and your jaw drops, but you're unable to utter any words or even come up with an excuse.

His smirk grew as he observed your flustered reaction. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes gave it away. "I was just joking, didn't think it would make you so shy."

You huff and lean back in the chair, feeling defensive. You can't bring yourself to meet his gaze as you say, "I'm not shy. I just…"

"Just?" He teased, casually draping an arm over the couch.

Feeling self-conscious, you defended yourself with a shy tone and blushing cheeks. “It’s perfectly normal to want a change.” you explained.

All he does is hum, but his eyes are fixed on you. Those damn eyes that seem to see right through you. "A little big don't you think?" He nods towards the bag.

You widen your eyes in surprise and finally gather the courage to confront him directly. "That's quite a bold topic to bring up with someone you barely know," you say.

"Coming from the woman who allowed a stranger into her home without even knowing my name, that's rich, love."

Touché.

“So whats your name then?”

“Simon.”

“Mines is y/n”

The two of you began to talk or rather you talked up a storm. As you spoke, he sat there and actually listened. Despite being the one to do most of the talking, he let you vent about work for almost ten solid minutes without interrupting. All he did was nod along, showing that he was truly paying attention.

You asked about his job and he wasn't very forthcoming, only mentioning that he traveled frequently. You ventured to ask his age and discovered he was twenty-eight years old. He didn't seem eager to talk about himself, so you changed the subject out of respect for his privacy.

He wasn't exactly the most exciting person, but he had his moments. Every so often, he'd tell a cheesy dad joke that made you giggle. You loved seeing the sparkle in his eyes whenever he cracked a joke. The two of you were having such a good time together that before you knew it, an hour had passed and you could hear the familiar beep of the washing machine downstairs. "Hold on, I'll grab your hoodie," you say as you get up and step out of the apartment for a moment.

He sat alone, quietly anticipating your return. By chance, the two of you had crossed paths, a coincidence he was grateful for because… he knew who you were. He noticed you struggling to make connections in your mind while he had already recognized you.

He had come across your profile on his streaming platform. You were a new fan, which he could tell based on your activity. How? Your profile picture was of yourself, and you never participated in the chat or donated. This piqued his curiosity about you, but he didn't bother reaching out at the time. However, when he saw you waiting at the bus stop in the same city as him, he took a chance and decided to approach you.

Now he was currently sitting in your apartment while you were busy downstairs. His gaze kept returning to the toy inside the bag, a flimsy and unnecessary item in his opinion. Why would someone like you need a toy? Surely you had a boyfriend, right? He heard your footsteps approaching and quickly turned to watch as you entered the room. "Why the toy?" he asked curiously.

You approached him and handed him his jacket, just cleaned and now carrying a hint of lavender. He brought up the dildo again, but you were feeling more assured this time. "As I said before, I wanted to experiment with something different."

He snorted in disbelief at those words, reaching over and holding up the black bag. "Why would you need this when you have a boyfriend, right? You do have one, don't you?" Simon secretly wished that you didn't have a boyfriend. You were too beautiful to be with someone who couldn't satisfy you.

You feel heat rush to your cheeks as you quickly take the bag from his hand and set it on the ground. "No, I don't have a boyfriend and so what if I have a dildo, what's it to you?”

For the first time, Simon is at a loss for words. He's confused, and even he doesn't understand why he cares so much. What he says next surprises not just you, but himself as well. "I could do better."

How the hell are you supposed to react to that? What would be an appropriate response? Was it meant as a joke, maybe? "Yeah, right, and pigs can fly." You try to rebut with a half-hearted tone, still uncertain of how to handle the situation.

As he sits up, his posture becomes rigid and his gaze locks onto yours. His eyes, a deep brown like icy orbs, possess an inexplicable warmth when focused on you. He takes a moment to assess you, his gaze lingering on your hips before meeting your eyes once more. You can feel the weight of his stare, as if he is trying to read your every thought and emotion. His expression remains stoic but there is an intensity in his eyes that cannot be ignored.

The realization washes over you like a wave, leaving behind a tingling sensation that starts in your toes and travels up your spine. He's serious…actually serious. Your heart races as his intense gaze bores into yours, causing a familiar heat to pool in the pit of your stomach and spread through your body. Your intuition spikes, confirming what your body already knows - there's only one man who can make you feel this way. It's ironic, really, that getting turned on was the only indication that he is the mysterious streamer you've been pining after for so long.

A bead of sweat forms on your forehead as you struggle to maintain a composed exterior, but inside you can't deny the desire that surges through you. Simon practically offered himself on a silver platter, you couldn't let this opportunity slip by. You could feel the tension in the air as he waited for your response. "Prove it then," the words escaped your lips in a rush, betraying your eagerness. But it was too late to take them back now. The anticipation and lust swirling between the two of you was palpable, like electricity in the air. Your pulse quickened as you prepared for what was to come next.

After hearing your confirmation, Simon's eyes darken, their once warm hue turning into a deep and intense shade. He slowly rises from his seat on the couch, his tall frame easily towering over you. Without saying a word, his large hand comes to rest on your hip, gently brushing his thumb in tender circles. His touch brings a sense of warmth that radiates off of him, causing you to tremble slightly. You can feel how gentle he is with you, knowing exactly how to handle you with care and tenderness.

With a firm grip on your waist, he gently guides you onto his lap. His strong thighs support your weight effortlessly, as if you were weightless in his arms. Simon tenderly presses his lips against your neck, his surgical mask now discarded, leaving his warm breath and soft kisses to trail down your neck and over your shoulder. The feeling sends shivers down your spine and causes you to squirm involuntarily, releasing a shaky gasp from your lips.

Desperate to catch a glimpse of his true identity, you strain your neck to see his face, but he squeezes your waist possessively. You felt his warm breath on your neck as he murmured, "You'll get to see if you behave, love." A soft kiss was pressed to the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck, making you whine with need. Despite your curiosity, you couldn't resist the calming effect of his embrace. The need to know his true appearance still lingers, but you trust in his promise and enjoy the moment with him.

His rough hands glide up and down the curves of your body, pressing firmly against your back as he pulls you closer. You can feel his chest rising and falling against you, and you can't ignore the bulge in his pants pressed against your plush ass. Despite the thick fabric of his jeans, you can sense every inch of him. He is just as large and intimidating as you had seen from watching him on screen. Perhaps even too big for you to handle. Simon's hand ventures underneath your hoodie and slips beneath your shirt, his calloused fingers tracing slow circles on your stomach. Though they are rough and coarse, they mold you like soft dough in a baker's hands. You feel like a piece of bread ready to be shaped according to his will.

With a deep sigh of relief, you let your eyes flutter closed, the tension slowly draining from your body. Soft moans escape your lips as his hands work their magic, easing away the stress and bringing a sense of pleasure to every inch of you. Your eyes snap open as one hand ventures underneath the band of your panties and gently strokes between your legs. You can feel the corner of his lips curl up in a confident smirk against the sensitive skin of your neck. "Already so wet," he whispers huskily, making you crave more of his touch.

Simon's fingers glide over your clit, causing it to quiver under his touch. He's exploring, trying to figure out what turns you on. When your body responds with a subtle yearning for more, he applies pressure with his index and middle finger, gently swirling them around your sensitive spot. You inhale sharply, almost unconsciously closing your legs at the sensation of a new hand wandering all over your body.

As Simon's fingers glide over your body, you feel a rush of electricity shoot through you. His touch is tentative at first, exploring the curves and crevices of your skin as if he is mapping out every inch. When he finally reaches your clit, it feels like a firework has been lit inside of you. Heat spreads from the contact point to every nerve ending in your body. You can't help but huff as he presses down with his index and middle finger, creating a slow, tantalizing swirl against your sensitive nub. Your breaths come in quick pants as your body responds to the unfamiliar sensation, arching towards his touch and almost closing up in surprise.

Gently, Simon nudges your thighs apart with his own, a low growl escaping him as he nibbles on your ear, his breath is hot against your skin. “That's a good girl,” he whispers, his voice gruff and full of desire. “Let me take care of you.” His touch is featherlight, teasing and electrifying, making it hard for you to focus on anything else. As one hand wanders up and down your body, the other finds its way to your perky breast, kneading and caressing it gently. Simon is determined to leave no part of you untouched, his actions attacking all of your physical senses at once.

A sharp pinch on your hardened nipple elicits a tiny squeal from you, and he responds by gently kissing your cheek. His lips trail up and down your jawline, providing comfort for your cry. Your slick has already coated his fingers, and it now seeps through not only your shorts but also your panties. He can feel the wet spot on his knee, evidence of your arousal. "Your pretty cunt doesn't get enough attention," he remarks, observing the way you're leaking all over him with a smirk on his face.

He uttered that word, "pretty," in such a raw way that it only made you more aroused. He noticed how wet you were and withdrew his fingers, teasingly waving them in front of your face as you try to catch your breath. "Look at the mess you've made," he says, running his fingers against your lips. You obey and open your mouth, tasting the salty slickness on your tongue.

The vulgarity of his words shot dopamine straight to that lust-filled brain of yours, and you couldn't deny the fluttering arousal that followed. He noticed this and pulled his fingers back from between your legs, holding them up to your face. Your breath came in short gasps as he taunted you with your own slick moisture glistening on his fingertips. "What a mess you made," he said, rubbing his fingers against your lips, encouraging you to open them. You complied eagerly, tasting the tangy saltiness of yourself on your tongue. It only made you want him more.

You suck on his finger, savoring the taste of yourself as your tongue laps at it with eagerness. The taste of yourself lingers on his skin, sweet and intoxicating. Simon's eyes are glued to you, mesmerized by your actions. His pants feel unbearably tight, but he knows he must take things slow and loosen you up before he can have you completely.

“Want me to keep going?” Simon asked in a commanding tone, and when you nodded, he shook his head. "I need words from you, Doll. Tell me what you want."

Your lips feel swollen as you bite down on them, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. But you can't forget your current position and the events that led to it. "I want more Simon, please."

Simon grunts and nods, taking his finger out of your mouth and holding onto your hips with both hands. He guides you to lean against his strong chest, positioning you so you can see his face. His rugged appearance, with a fresh stubble brushing against your soft skin, adds to his appeal. A cut on his nose gives him a rougher look, but it only makes him more attractive. He uses his fingers to collect your wetness and spreads it over your clenched opening. Taking advantage of your distraction, Simon slowly inserts his index finger into your tight hole.

He can't help but groan at the incredible tightness he encounters with just one finger. Your walls squeeze and cling onto him as if your life depends on it. It's a good thing he's taking the time to loosen you up, because if his cock were to experience this level of tightness, he'd have you pinned down on the couch in no time, causing your knees to shake uncontrollably.

You flinch at the sudden intrusion, his large index finger feeling almost intrusive as it slowly enters you. It fills you more than your own fingers ever could. Simon tenderly kisses the side of your lips, reassuring you. "It's okay, I've got you…I've got you." He pauses to make sure you're comfortable before continuing. His fingers continue to explore with care, his thumb gently pressing against your sensitive clit to mask any pain with pleasure. A deep moan escapes him as he feels your walls pulsating around him, making his cock throb in anticipation within his boxers. It begs for attention.

You looked up at him, your eyes blinking rapidly as you flinched when he slowly inserted another finger into your tight and slippery opening. It was a bit too much to handle, but you forced yourself to bear it with clenched teeth and an open mouth. Your cheeks were flushed and your skin had goosebumps all over from the stimulation. The pain gradually turned into a hint of pleasure, causing your nipples to harden in response. His two fingers moved in and out at a slow pace, your whimpers of discomfort slowly transformed into moans of pleasure. Simon quickly found a rhythm, picking up speed until there were wet slurping sounds coming from the movement of his fingers inside you.

The intensity of the moment was immeasurable. The sight of you writhing on his lap, your body shuddering and your walls gripping around his fingers, drove him to grunt loudly in response. He could feel his own cock throbbing and pulsing with desperate need as he watched you shatter before him. With deliberate care, he curved his finger and found a sweet spot deep inside you that made your toes curl and your eyes roll back. Taking note of this, Simon altered his rhythm and started moving faster, his fingers thrusting in and out with an almost frantic pace.

But he didn't forget about that special spot, and each time he hit it, it sent waves of ecstasy through your body, leaving you breathless and craving more. You were starved for touch, and Simon could tell by how eagerly you pushed against his hand, your hips seeking out his fingers no matter how deep they delved inside you. He was playing you like a skilled musician, knowing exactly which strings to pluck to elicit the most intense reactions from your body. And despite only having just met him, Simon seemed to have a better understanding of your own body than yourself.

He knows that adding a third finger now would be too much for you to handle. Instead, he expertly curls both fingers inside of you and uses his other hand to pinch and tweak your swollen clit. The pleasure is overwhelming and has you seeing stars and cumming far too soon. Your whole body arches off of him, your legs trembling like leaves in the wind as your orgasm crashes over you uncontrollably. You weren't given any build up or time to prepare, it came on full force and ready. When you come down from your high, he pulls his fingers out of your quivering core, holding you close with one arm while the other shifts you slightly for comfort. His pants are now slick with your release, evidence of your intense climax.

Mindful of your orgasm, he gently lifts you up and places you onto the plush couch. You sit there for a moment, heart racing and breath catching in your chest. Your mind is dizzy with pleasure, trying to process everything that has transpired. Suddenly, a metallic clank and a loud zip interrupt your thoughts, causing you to open one eye and peer up at Simon.

He stands directly in front of you, blocking out the rest of the world with his strong body. As your eyes trail downward, you come face to face with the very same girthy cock that had captivated you on screen. Up close, it was even more daunting and intimidating than before. Thick veins pulsed along its length, the tip glistening with precum from being pressed against his boxer briefs. His heavy balls hung low and full, adding to the overwhelming image before you.

"You didn't think this was over, did you?"

♡! This one is really long but I don't like how I did the sex scene that much. o(TヘTo). Expect more of Simon talking in the next!!

˚ ✦ . Taglist (People who commented): @theirkenfiles @@crazy-phan-girl13 @forgotten-lego-piece

[dingoat]

Nightmare, wound, and hate for the OC of your choice :D

Ooof! I'm gonna go with Five here because he has a LOT going on that's never had a lot of tumblr airtime, hahaha.

Nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

Five has plenty of nightmares, though the most commonly recurring ones always centre around the death of his twin sister, which was a horrific incident that occurred on their eleventh birthday, involving self absorbed parents, a lack of supervision, and improper housing of their neighbour's prize show narglatch. This event, and the aftermath in the following years, played a massive role in shaping him as a person. He has never spoken about his nightmares to a soul, and even among those people who have become precious to him (Thirteen leagues above everyone, Crow working his way in, and then to lesser but not insignificant degrees, the squad of Ciphers he personally oversees) the topic of his family is entirely out of bounds for discussion.

He's not going to deal with his nightmares or the event that triggered them in any sort of healthy way for a long, long time. (He will begin to open up, just a little, after the loss of Ziost, but that healing journey will get severely stalled and regressed during the events that follow. He might get there, one day.)

Wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What’s the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

In general, Five deals with wounds of all kinds by completely closing himself off and doing everything he can to avoid displaying any sort of weakness, no matter how much he's actually getting wrecked. Losing his sister was intensely painful and traumatic, and his support network failed him horribly; so he learned to become completely self sufficient out of necessity. He's not good at leaning on people and accepting support from Thirteen has been a huge learning curve; just allowing himself to do so took a long time, and actually expressing any sort of gratitude? I'm still not sure he knows how to say 'thank you' in a genuine context hahaha. He also has a huge tolerance of physical pain but definitely met his match in Ahuska on the night she broke free; in wolf-shape, she used the Force to rend his arm from his body and that left him pretty incomprehensible.

In the future (post-Ziost) he suffers even more; injured by a monolith and passed out in one of the rifts until he was recovered, he's became effected by the Force-void Valkorion inflicted on the planet and it's presenting as a terrible infection that's slowly eating away at him. The more fixed he becomes on walling himself off and becoming the cold, critical Commander he thinks he needs to be is only giving the void more of a foothold and will kill him if someone doesn't whack some sense into him soon! (We sort of dip into these future events while writing out the main story as we sloooowly pick our way through KotFE/KotET, and as a result Five has become my canon Commander which I NEVER anticipated for him!)

Hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

Five carries around a lot of hate, hahaha. Number one spot on the hate list is reserved for his parents (followed closely by his neighbours), all of whom he brought to ruin later in his life. His parents are disowned, discredited, settled in a retirement home and not permitted any independence. He's done everything he can to scrub their memory from his life (including completely renovating the family estate), and he battled Intelligence long and hard against using his prestigious family name to build a 'useful' public persona. Intel won that battle, and now he has very mixed feelings about his 'real' name.

He also harbours a good deal of hate toward Force sensitives and particularly the Sith, finding it outrageous that their whole society is built on near worship of these beings who are placed on a pedestal by a random chance factor of their birth. (The irony of he himself being born into money and prestige and all the privilege that has brought him is 100% lost to him, though he may yet live long enough for some of those particular pieces to click fully into place.) But he deals with that particular hate by, basically, playing the long game. For many years the driving force of his life was to climb the ladders and earn himself as much power as possible in order to have as much control over his life as he could, and to potentially start dismantling pieces of the Empire little bit by little bit. So he's learned to smile and bow and charm the Darths and Lords above him, he knows exactly what to say, to whom, and when, in order to achieve what he wants and needs.

That's worked for him.... right up until he fixated on a certain werewolf, and bit by bit it's all been coming apart at the seams.

[syoddeye]

hear me out... and this might sound stupid (because it sounded way cooler in my head)

Kate using her code name "Watcher" + exhibition kink

i'll see myself out

where are you going, get back here!!!

go for watcher

kate laswell x f!reader | 1.9k words cw: exhibitionism, semi-public outdoor masturbation, vibrators, dirty talk, kate laswell calling you puppy a/n: lightly edited. posting and running!

“watcher?”

“go for watcher.”

“i’m in position.”

“are you?”

the purr to kate’s voice is your first clue she’s in a good mood—a relief since her vaguely worded text sent late last night did not inspire confidence.

>> eight pm. wear the usual. 

five words, followed by a pin drop for the precise location. you checked three times on your phone to ensure you were in the right place, then slipped your wireless headphones in. 

the park is mercifully quiet. peeking over your shoulder, you count the couples dotting the waterfront on benches or picnic blankets. you came early with a book to stake out a prime spot: an unobstructed view of the water and a modicum of privacy. thanks to the city’s efforts to rewild patches of the wharf, a nice thicket of ornamental grasses, shrubs, and flowers mostly obscure you from behind.

“yes ma’am.”

“good. you have what you need?”

you pat the folded blanket on the bench beside you and your bag. “yes ma’am.”

“and the…?”

heat flutters in your gut, and you nod, repeating once more, “yes ma’am. in position.”

she doesn’t ask any further questions. this isn’t the first time she’s tasked you like this, nor will it be the last. both of you know the words, the limits, and the rules. the call mutes, and the anticipation ratchets immediately. a frisson works its way down your vertebrae, one by one, and beneath the lightweight trench, you shift. thighs rubbing together, wetness already pooling under your skirt.

when a few minutes pass, long enough to watch a few boats in the harbor depart for their evening cruises, you think to check your phone. ensure the call wasn’t dropped. of course, the second your hand even twitches in the direction of your bag, the toy securely snug in your cunt whirrs to life.

“fuck,” the curse flies out of your mouth in a whisper. the hand you intended to grab your phone with instead raises to your face instinctively, though you lower it after a second.

“good girl,” kate returns. “open your coat, then hands down on the bench, baby.”

it’s unfair how wet you feel from less than a minute, especially with how you know it’s on one of the lower settings. your hands tremble as they unfasten the coat’s belt and part the material to let it hang open. your knees part instinctually, preceding the instruction that typically follows. then, despite the growing ache, you curl your fingers around the worn wood and stare into the bay. a dozen boats are out tonight, and you know kate’s on one of them.

she whispers in your ear a few more times with a low rasp, cooing from a distance when your breath hitches and cracks. her words heat your face alongside the fire in your abdomen, stoked by the toy. the vibe ramps up to a six out of ten, faintly audible at this point if someone were to try and join you. it’s torturous, hearing people on the path behind you, within spitting distance.

“kate…” you whine, knees shaking, wood cutting into your hands. your cunt throbs, fingers flexing in place.

“pull up your skirt, let’s see where she’s at.”

biting your lip, you start to turn your head to check for passersby, but kate chirps.

“didn’t say to look around. c’mon, baby. skirt.”

in the back of your mind, you know she wouldn’t really let a stranger see you like this. it’s just the thrill that someone could—or so you think as you gingerly peel your skirt up your thighs. you lift off the bench an inch to hike it up further, when two voices accompanied by footsteps cut through the headphone’s dampening.

“kate–”

“i see ‘em, you’re fine. christ, you’re soaked.”

you glance down and let out a shaky breath at the sight of your slicked thighs. the tail of the toy bobs with the vibrations, dripping. your attention is torn between the state of your pussy and the couple mere paces behind you, chattering on about the view. a foot drags on the pavement.

“blanket.”

in an instant, you snatch the blanket beside you and drape it over your lap, and muster the best, most casual i’m admiring the view and nothing else expression you can. 

“excuse me,” the man asks, flashing a smile as he and the woman you presume to be a wife or girlfriend walk around toward your front. “are you waiting for someone?”

the bench you occupy is certainly big enough for three or four people, and you’re plopped in the center of it. you open your mouth to answer and nearly choke as the vibe cruelly speeds up. without thinking, you cross your legs and nod furiously.

“yep. i am.”

the couple lingers, looking around the quiet park. “well, until they get here, do you think we could–”

“no, you can’t.” you blurt out, tight with frustration. usually, you’re kind, sweet, and patient. all the things kate likes about you, but the toy butts against that fucking spot that nearly has you seeing stars. only by digging a hand into your thigh under the blanket gives you the motivation to focus. “i’d like to be alone.”

the woman tugs on the man's arm and mutters something about leaving you alone.

“fine. have a nice night.” he says flatly, clearly ticked off, but he goes willingly with his partner.

kate’s back in an instant. “look at you, how mean.”

you groan quietly and pull the blanket away as the couple heads out of view. “you’re one to talk. y-you, fuck, turned it up…”

“oh, was that mean? here,” she says flatly, and the toy stops moving altogether. you reel, torn between literally taking matters into your own hands and pawing at your clit, and sitting pretty as she expects. “fix your legs. you don’t move unless i say so, puppy.”

the name hits your cunt like a slap, and you bite back a moan. the ache is almost unbearable as you uncross your legs and spread them wide. goosebumps dot your skin, the back of your neck prickling in renewed anticipation. “kate,” you start. “please, i’m sorry.”

she chuckles dryly, and you hear the sound of a cork popping. “yeah? you want me to turn it back on?”

you nod. the air chills the stickiness coating your pussy and inner thighs, the ribbons that snake down your ass. a shiver travels through you as a gust of wind blows in from the water. “please.”

something creaks on the other end. “we’ll see. why don’t you touch that pretty clit of yours instead. give her some attention. let me see the manicure i paid for.”

you ignore how she laughs when your hand instantly slides over skin, at the pleased hum that echoes your hiss. gently, as you’re incredibly worked up, you rub your fingers between your folds and cover your fingers in your slick. then, heart stuttering, you start to rub small, tight circles over your clit. it’s instantly too much and not enough.

she whistles low. “i like the color. suits you, compliments you nicely. a little more pressure.”

“it–”

“no back talk, baby—jesus, there’s gonna be a stain on your skirt.”

you keen at that, fingertips skimming the silicone where it plugs your hole. as if a pat will bring it back to life. she coaches you through the next several minutes, meanly cutting you off each time your breathing shifts, betraying precisely where you’re at. 

“mm, fuck.” kate, wherever she is, isn’t just testing your restraint but her own. you highly doubt she’s touching herself. when she gets like this, fresh off a string of bad days, probably when shit’s gone sideways elsewhere in the world, she needs to practice control at home. with you, preferably. needs to orchestrate something that’s guaranteed, to boss someone around who isn’t going to go rogue or challenge her. a good girl, as she always calls you.

“it feels so good,” you whimper, nearing the precipice yet again. your pussy clenches around the useless toy, nub twitching under your stroking fingers. “i can’t–can’t wait to show you.”

“yeah?” she asks, drawing a deep breath. “you gonna show me the mess you made when i pick you up?” 

you nod, lip swollen from biting it repeatedly. 

“always so good for me, baby. maybe i ought to…” she trails and briefly sounds distant in your ear. that’s when the vibrator returns to life, making you nearly jerk off the bench and onto the ground. “keep touching yourself.”

with one hand clutching the bench and the other working your clit, your eyes close to slits, blurry with unshed tears. fuck, you are so, so close.

“that’s it. keep going. can you hold it until ten?”

“i can–i can try.”

gradually, the vibrator climbs its settings, alternating between pulsing beats and ceaseless current. the warm, thrumming pressure of an orgasm returns, gaining strength as the toy maxes out. you pinch your clit and sharply tap your cunt a few times and hear kate groan.

“remind me to figure out how to mic you up. watching how wet you are doesn’t beat hearing it.”

you laugh, strained and breathless. sweat drips down the back of your neck. “kate, can i come? please?”

she hums. “beg just a little more, puppy.”

another burst of heat, twinned with the tension drawing tight in your belly, flares beneath your skin. the vibrator’s buzzing finds that spot again as if kate has that much control over it, and it hammers insistently. you’re going to come—with or without her permission—and you know what happens if you don’t earn it first.

“please, kate. please let me come, i need it, please.” 

the longest twenty or thirty seconds of your life pass.

“let’s see it.”

permission granted, you lean into it. your back arches off the bench a bit, still of a coherent enough mind to try and keep up the appearance of someone simply enjoying the evening. you stifle more moans as your orgasm climbs the last few steps, cresting then hurtling through your body in a shockwave. you whine and whimper as you come, squirming uncontrollably as kate takes her time lowering the vibrator’s settings until it’s still. the tail twitches where it hangs, your pussy pulsating as if greedily flirting with the idea of another.

“good girl. deep breaths.” she purrs, voice thick with affection. “do me a favor and leave that in for now.”

you nod, weary, and wipe your hand on your thigh. when she doesn’t scold you, you tug your skirt down, grimacing at the wet spot that immediately forms. the fabric soaks up the little puddle you left and clings to your ass as you stand. thank god for your coat.

“where are you?” you ask, scanning the water.

“heading to dock a, baby. i’ll be there in there in two minutes. can you walk alright?”

you huff and roll your eyes, risking whether or not she’s still watching. slinging your bag over a shoulder, you stretch your legs as you start for the docks. “it’s not like i got fucked fucked.”

she chuckles. “we’ll see how you feel in an hour.”

your core throbs at that promise, and you smile wickedly to yourself. a moment of silence passes as you near the water’s edge, and you see kate’s boat pulling closer. 

“watcher?”

“yeah, baby?”

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

[romana-after-dark]

But what IF Logan and Scott got reader drunk and brought her back to Logan’s room and Scott watched as Logan fucked her? (And Scott, being a loyal husband, does indeed simply watch and does not touch her) (ok maybe he shoots one off on her face)

Yes!!!!

I love this. I have so many dark ask and i love every single one of them so please be patient. Ill never just delete the ask, if I decide its not for me or I cant get inspo, ill answer it so yall know!

(forgive me I've never written scott and barely watched him but I love him)

Wanted It

Logan Howlett x reader x Scott Summers

Summary: Logan and Scott find a pretty girl at a hotel bar and decide to have some fun.

Warnings: dub con due to alcohol turned non con pillow princess reader, bi Logan bi Scott, ass eating, rough BJ, throat bulge <3, somno, dick suffication (everyone is fiiiiine)

760 words

You had wanted it. You didn't have to say it, Logan could tell by the look in your eyes as he watched you at the hotel bar.

You wanted him and Scott to fuck you. You were just too shy to say it.

That's okay. Logan kept sending you over drinks while him and Scott talked all the possibilities, all the things they could do with you as you loaded up on hard liquor.

"Could Eiffel tower, a classic."

"That requires a high five, I'm not a 21 year old frat boy."

"Fine, you fuck her, we hang her head off the bed and I fuck her throat."

But Logan had another idea. Scott was going to watch. You were his, Scott was his. Logan didn't share. That was fine by Scott, he was more a watcher than anything, loving being able to touch himself to a pretty sight.

When you were good and drunk, the bar tender did not seem at all suspicious of the two men who oh-so gentlemanly offered to help the young lady walk to her room. Arms over shoulders, they took you right to Logan and Scott's bed.

First thing first was your throat.

"mmmm, you're handsome..." You murmur with a sleepy voice as Logan maneuvers your body with ease.

Logan smiled. "yeah baby? You wanna suck my fat cock?"

You were too tired to answer, but as your head hung back off the bed you kept your mouth open, just not your eyes.

Wet and warm, Logan groaned as he slid into your mouth, sloppy fucking your throat like it was a pussy. Behind him, Scott tongue fucked his ass, face buried between his hairy cheeks. Between Scott and you, Logan was getting about ready to blow his load right down your throat but he kept himself from exploding yet. Sloppy, wet noises filled the room as you drooled and gagged on his cock.

When he looked down at you, he nearly came right there at the sight. "Shit, Scott." He tried to tell him, but Scott was too busy buried in his own heaven. "Oh for fucks sake..." Logan grumbles, reaching behind himself and grabbing a tuft of Scott's hair to pull him up. "Fucking look at this."

Resuming his actions, Scott watched in aw as the tip of Logan's cock bulged out your throat. You cough and gag when he gets too rough, but Logan holds you down. You're perfect, such a sweet little toy.

"Logan..." Scott whines, palming his large erection in his pants. "Logan please, I wanna touch her..."

"Not a fucking chance." Logan decides he's gonna fill your mouth now. Him and Scott got all night to play with you, and with his regenerative powers, he could get it up again in minutes.

You begin to resist him more, squirming underneath as he gets closer to his release but never eases up. Drool slides down your face and into your hair. Next to him, Scott is furious masturbating, jerking his cock to the scene before him. You gag hard, a pool of saliva and liquor splashing out of your mouth and feeling warm around his balls for crashing to the floor.

"Logan, Logan I- I'm gonna, oh fuck, oooh fuuucckkk" Scott groans as he cums all over your face and Logan's cock. You're struggling fully now, kicking and trying to push Logan away as your sounds of distress reverberate on his dick and he decides you have to breath at some point.

Logan flood your mouth, spilling inside as he continues to roughly fuck your face. His white hot cum spills out of your mouth and mixed with Scotts, looking so, so beautiful when he pulls up. Logan watches with a smile as you gasp for air, heavy breathing and dry heaving as you try to get normal again. Slowly, as Logan gets hard again, you settle back down the bed. Head up this time.

"Clean 'er up." Logan orders Scott as he touches himself hard again. He's so, so sensitive from his orgasm but it felt so, so good. Scott obeys, kneeling at the bed and happily kissing away at your face, licking away the cum and spit and make up inbetween kisses.

You hum, saying something about being tired.

"Oh ho ho," Logan chuckles, watching Scott with you. "We're just getting started, bub."

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

Thanks for reading! Lots more Logan blurbs and fics here, including my dark series be quiet for some reason keeps not showing up in tags, but I think it's good stuff so Ima keep promoting it. Remember to reblog or leave a comment if you enjoyed it so i know what the people like!

also come join my tag list linked above for updates!

Sloppy bj fan? CHeck out Take It All with Miguel O hara or Against the Wall with Joel Miller

@del-ightfulling @my-secret-shame

[excalibur-gone-missing]

Paring: jeonghan x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, 70's au, little to no angst

warnings: none, maybe a few swear words here and there

summary: Jeonghan might be a cocky bastard but when it comes to you he will turn the world upside down, or so he claims.

words: 2k

a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask.

a/n 2: i heard a podcast and it made me want to write this fic because the love story of the two hosts was sooo damn cutee.

You knew Jeonghan from when you were literally a kid.

His father had moved to your city after a presentation from little Jeonghan on how to make a pocketknife using ice cream sticks that he learnt from his local friends, his mother mortified that her little sweet child would grow up to become a goon forced his father to change cities to go as far away from the place they physically could.

It was during his fathers pursuit for a stable Korean community in Canada’s ever-growing cities did he come across the name of your grandfather’s in the phonebook that sounded very much similar to his. Your grandfather being the trusting and kind man he was invited his father for a dinner in his house the following day and this event kickstarted a relationship between the two families wherein, his father bought a house six minutes away from yours in the small part of your city inhabited by mostly Asians.

You both had met when he was seven and you were only three, he still remembers babysitting you when you were in middle school as your parents trusted no one more than him. So, when he broke the beautiful glass table in your living room, he had skillfully blamed you resulting in a three-hour long lecture from your parents about taking care of ones possessions.

You hated Jeonghan then, you really did, so you refused to talk to him for the next almost five years.

Until you both found yourselves in a duet dance opposite to each other because it was the neighborhood talent show and it was mandatory for the kids to participate. Typical Asian parents.

To no ones surprise your dance number got a tad bit too much hype from the watchers and it kickstarted another full year of you both not talking to each other at all because of the teasing glances and suggestive remarks from adults and children alike.

The time you both talked to each other again was when it was you senior year prom at high school and your father being the overprotective man he was, did not allow you to go because according to him ‘prom is how American kids end up getting pregnant.’

He was wrong of course; kids get pregnant due to having sex but you being the soft-spoken kid you were did not have the gal to inform him that. You would rather spend the night being sad and watching Simpsons and crying about how unfair it is for your parents to not let you go and experience the night considered to rank number one in peak American high school experience.

This was the first time you saw Jeonghan as your lord and savior, which you obviously will never tell him because it will do nothing but fuel his over-the-top ego. But that day he had stepped in and talked to you father.

“It’s an experience and everyone should be able to experience it, I think you are wrong sir to take away this from your daughter,” he had oh so righteously said.

“Son, I would let her only if you take her, as I don’t trust anyone but you with my daughter.”

“So, I shall then.”

Now did this conversation shock you? Yes, it did especially your father’s response to Jeonghan, but you were not going to stir up any feminist conversation with your father right now, not when you just got the pass to go to prom.

That night was something you barely remember; it has been twenty years since then and you barely care about the overly hyped kids and the future alcoholics that you encountered that night. Now that you are wise and older, you understand your parents concern. Suzy from you class had become a mother at the prime age of eighteen, nine months later. You are thankful that your father made the wise choice for you that day.

That night from what you remember was just plain boring, you had come back at 11 to a quite house, had talked to the boy for the entirety of the night, watched the sunrise with him and at the end had hugged him thanking him for taking you to prom.

After that incident, you both had again gone onto your own ways and had not talked to each other for another year till the next family function, where you both were the only kids of the same age present as all your other friends were out of the country for college.

That weekend had sparked a friendship between you both, as you always stuck to each other’s side seeking comfort from one another as talking to anyone else somehow always circled back to your marriage and their extreme concern for your depleting eggs.

The friendship you both wove lasted a long while, throughout your college. Till one day you come back from a trip to Daegu, and he was there standing at the airport ready to rush you away from your family to the nearest Starbucks because he had some news for you.

Once in the café he informed you that he had landed the job he had been trying for right after finishing college. You were elated for him, so happy that you almost forgot to tell him about the potential marriage partner your parents had whipped up during your two-week-long stay there.

Jeonghan being the man he was asked you up front to marry him, confessing his hidden feeling for you and how the weight of them might have just decreased his height. Dramatic bitch.

You being brough back to reality told him no and stated the reason to be man you could have potentially married. He obviously told you to say no to this unknown ‘son of a bitch’ and accept his proposal.

So being the bigger person, because Jeonghan obviously refused to, you reminded him that you had never dated anyone let alone him and you will not marry a man you have not dated.

This conversation then ignited your relationship the first step of which was turning down the said ‘son of a bitch’ while telling your father you wanted to focus on your career more, which you really did. Fast forward six months and while keeping up the long-distance relation with frequent phone calls late at night because your parents might pick up the landline and eavesdrop if its during the day, while at the same time trying to search for a job near Boston went on.

On one late Sunday afternoon as you were sitting on the kitchen island sipping on coffee you got an email from on of the companies, you had given an interview to, informing you had gotten an onsite job that would require you to move to Cambridge, and you were over the moon.

So, the preparations began for your send off and again Jeonghan stepped in like the messiah he is. He is absolutely not one, you refuse to accept. The man went ahead and told your conservative father he will give up his life to take care of you, till this date you claim it will be the opposite if a situation like that befalls you both. After packing your bags, you were on your merry way to live with the man.

It took you both some time to adjust to the new settings he would be over at your place during the weekends and sometimes you would be at his. This continued for another year or so before one night as you both were laying on the bed together when Jeonghan suddenly piped up.

“I think you should see other people.”

Not understanding what he meant you turned towards the guy and asked, “what do you mean?”

“I know we will end up marrying each other, so I want you to experience dating other men too, so you don’t get to ever claim I was the only guy in your life,” he explained to you.

You had yet to get a taste of exactly how much of a cocky motherfucker you are dating, said innocently.

“But Jeonghan you are the only guy I ever dated.”

That was the end of that conversation that night before you both went to sleep, but his urging never stopped. It went on for a few days till one day your exhausted and a tad bit insecure self, lashed out at him claiming he wanted to cheat on you, and he wanted a break. So, you gave one to him.

That entire year you had a flower bouquet delivered early morning to your house with an apology letter, although the apologies lasted only for a month before you forgave the terrified man, who apologized profusely after you accepted to talk to him. Even though you did feel a bit bad after seeing him, the guy looked like he was living during the great depression.

After that all was smooth sailing and he never ever tried to upset you at all, but his playful nature persisted anyways, not like you minded that.

Five years later during your sister’s wedding in Singapore was when his proposal was finally accepted. You had just arrived at the airport and yet again the man had swooped in and taken you away from your family under the guise of some kind of sound check that was needed to be done in the wedding venue.

Your clueless self agreed to go with him and without a second thought he took you to the cables to take you to an island that was nowhere close to the wedding venue. As you were getting increasingly confused, you kept asking him where exactly you both were going. He kept deflecting the topic, so you ultimately gave up and, as another family came up on the cable car, you started talking about your flight that you took with your family. The poor man did not hear one word, he was sweating bullocks and was essentially confused why another family was in the cable car that he had fully booked for you both.

As the family got down at the end, he stopped you from doing so too claiming it is not the stop, even though it was the last one. It was then the nervous wreck of a man got down on one knee in front of asking for your hand in marriage once again, and you being so in love with him accepted to spend the rest of your life with the man.

The rest of it was history, you both had to tell your parents none of whom were shocked at all, rather relieved that you both had at last agreed to get married and be together forever.

Now ten years later and with your two children, you are perfectly content with your life. Waking up with Jeonghan beside you everyday sounds like a dream and you are happy it came true for you.

As you tossed around the bed you saw Jeonghan eyeing you in his half-awake state.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“Us,” you answer snuggling closer to him.

“What about us, huh?”

“The way you forced me to date some other guy because you wanted me to have more experience in dating,” you laughed at the memory.

“Don’t tell me about that it still haunts me till this day” he retorts with a shudder.

“Why did you do it anyways?” you ask.

“I knew I was going to marry you so I wanted you to have some more experience with dating others so whenever you have an argument I could say ‘hey remember that looser you dated!’”, he answers with laugh.

With a laugh you slapped his shoulder exclaiming, “I sometimes forget how cocky you can get!”

"How else do you think I got the permission to propose you in someone else's marriage!" he states sassily.

With that Jeonghan snuggles closer to you some more, its Sundays anyways the kids are with their grandparents and you both have all the time in the world to just bask in each other’s presence and not do anything at all.

[prose-for-hire]

Should I Stay or Should I Go? (Part Three)

Part One // Part two // Part Four

Pairing: Spike x Giles!reader

Part three of four 💖

Warning: reader drinks/smokes, difficult relationship with Giles and not friends with Buffy.

He had been searching for you when you hadn’t returned, his face steeped in worry as he stormed through the night to find you. Maybe you had got lost or eaten in that annoying human way. He cared for you deeply. He couldn’t help it and as he walked through Sunnydale until the light started to singe his body, he knew that he couldn’t fight his feelings anymore.

It had been five days. He had caught your scent around the UC Sunnydale campus but he kept losing it in certain places. He needed to see you, needed to make sure that you were okay.

He had been sleeping in your bed clinging to your clothes, bathing in your scent. Wishing he could have you back by his side again, where he was more sure each day that you truly belonged. He wished to have you pressed against him again, cradle you in his arms, grip your body in his bed.

He had found you five days later by chance, stalking into the Bronze looking for something to pass the time. His mind on you but he had little hope that you would appear before him. He was even beginning to worry he had dreamt you up.

Until, well, there you were. Stood at the side of the Bronze looking miserable as you swirled your drink around. You were talking to a redhead who looked a little exhausted by your company.

He stepped back, watching you intently as if you were a mirage. He wanted to reach out and touch you so badly but he was afraid you may be a cruel illusion. He had looked for you for days, he had worried sick about you.

From the dark he overheard your conversation, you had left because of the kiss. It had overwhelmed you as much as you had wanted to stay in the moment forever.

“I just don’t know… should I go? Should I stay?” You asked, not for the first time since you had started talking to her.

“I, uh, I’m still not sure Spike is exactly boyfriend material”

“I’m not trying to make a blanket out of him, Will” You said smiling softly at the idea of Spike wrapping his arms around you.

Your indecision was bugging even yourself as you spoke about it for the millionth time. Willow was at a loss as to what to say other than that Spike was very dangerous and ultimately evil. You were already way past that and had seen the good in him as well as the bad. You liked both but you knew that this would sever any chance at reconciling with your Dad.

“Embarrassed, is that it?” Spike asked, his eyes not meeting yours as he stepped from the shadows. His eyes were haunted by a situation much like this, some decades earlier. He felt it, the rejection, the pain. It was so acute and written on his face so clearly that you could almost feel it yourself.

“Spike, it’s not like that, I-”

“You used me for a cheap thrill and then went toddling back to your boring little life livin’ under Daddy’s thumb”

He stormed out, lighting up a cigarette as he walked, his duster whipping around him as he walked into the street. You ran after him, ignoring his muttering about not even getting to the thrilling part.

You grabbed his shoulder and he let you turn him to face you. He was agonisingly close, you even found his frown cute. His anger desirable. You wanted to kiss his pain away, remove the furrow from his brow. Offer up any thrill that he could possibly want.

“If you don’t want me then bloody well let me free” He moved as if to push past you but you took his hand. With your touch he softened, even slightly.

“I was scared, Spike”

“Now you find the time to bloody fear me”

“It’s just, I was trained from a child to be a Watcher and as much as I never cared for it, things like that are kinda difficult to unlearn. Suddenly I was ten years old again being screamed at by some stuffy Watchers when I started to empathise with one of the vampires in our case studies.”

You had been wrestling with your own morality. It was a battle you could never win when kissing Spike felt so right but everything you had been taught until now had told you it was so wrong.

He nodded, understanding that where you come from can impact your life, and even your un-life. He was still reeling from the rejection, it had hurt in a way that he hadn’t felt since he was human. He offered you a smoke, you took it, leaning into him as he flicked his lighter on for you. Your eyes met, deepening your gaze as you inhaled the thick smoke.

Nothing was said in this time, though it lasted for an age, something unspoken was communicated. Shared.

He lowered himself, his duster sliding from his shoulder slightly as he knelt on the floor his cigarette bobbing from his lips as he spoke, “I’m on my knees here, pet, I can’t lose you. Love like this comes once an eternity.”

“Love?”

You reached for him, lowering yourself to kneel with him, your hands clasping his after flicking your cigarette away. You couldn’t help the way your doubts creeped into your head, how your upbringing made you question every move that you made in terms of good and evil.

“Where do we go from here?”

“Come home?”

You had barely nodded before he slammed his lips against yours, your knees resting uncomfortably on the tarmac, but all you could think about was the way he felt against you. The urgency in which he kissed, the way he cradled your face in his hands, caressed your skin. He felt divine beneath your hands, his lips felt heavenly on yours.

How could anything about this be wrong?

You leaned against him, your forehead pressed against his as you panted trying to regain your composure. You stayed like that for a while in the dark alley before you took his hand again and walked towards your shared crypt.

From there, you took things slow. Much slower than either of you would like. You often fell asleep against him in the evenings and shared such deep confessions. Of your pasts, of your feelings for the other.

After a week of settling back into your home, you had an unwelcome houseguest. And she didn’t even bring a home-warming gift.

Buffy slammed the door to your crypt so hard that it almost came clean off its hinges. She came to tell you that your father had been turned into some demon by Ethan Rayne and she wanted to make sure that you knew that he was okay. That he was shaken but unharmed and would perhaps appreciate a visit from his family.

You mumbled something about going to visit sometime but realised this was the wrong decision. Buffy saw this as an opportunity to give you some (again, unwelcome) advice.

“Look, y/n, as a friend-”

“We were never really friends, Buffy”

The young girl looked surprisingly hurt, perhaps she had truly seen you as a friend and you had misjudged her. She had, of course, never been anything other than pleasant to you. You had just allowed your jealousies to fester beyond control. Plus she was self-righteous in a kind of annoying way.

“Well, friend or not I care about you because I care about Giles. Grow up, y/n, the rebel act was kinda last season. He misses you”

“He made it very clear that I’m not welcome, why would him letting Ethan make him all Fyarl-y make a difference?”

“You can’t be happy here, with him” she visibly shuddered as he walked up to join you from the lower level of the crypt. You appreciated that you got a glimpse of his athletic torso beneath his unbuttoned red shirt.

He slung an arm around you, squeezing your shoulder and whispering in your ear. You were too comfortable together and Buffy looked as if it made her physically sick. She threatened Spike vaguely, gave you another warning and then with a hair flip she stormed back out of the crypt and slammed the door shut behind her.

The thing that irritated you the most was that she genuinely thought she was ‘saving you from yourself’. That you had taken the wrong path. That the love, this amazing and beautiful feeling that you had never quite felt anything like before, was somehow wrong. Or gross. Or evil.

Which had fed into your thoughts the first time you had been close to Spike. You wouldn’t let it happen again. You hated the distance. The way his absence had physically pained you.

Spike guided you back down to the his bedroom, pressing soft kisses against your jaw, nipping at your neck and caressing his lips down your chest. He wanted you all to himself, he wouldn’t let you go again. Not now he knew how good life could be with you in it. By his side, in his bed.

By late afternoon you were lying on your side in his bed, watching him writing in a notebook. Papers littered the floor of the crypt. He hadn’t had such inspiration since he was human. You had brought him back to life. Revived him.

“Did you mean it, when you said you loved me?” You asked softly, your fingers trailing softly against his muscled arm.

“Never meant anything more,”

He had, of course, noted that you hadn’t said it to him. It stung a little but he would rather have you by his side even if you didn’t love him than not at all. He knew you cared for him, of course. Knew that you felt safe with him. Knew that he would kill any man, demon or slayer that came anywhere near you.

He put his writing down, shifting himself and burying his face into the crook of your neck. He would give anything to hear you say it.

“Say you’re mine, love, and I’ll be here until the end of time,” He pleaded between landing slow kisses against your exposed skin.

“I love you, Spike, I think… I think I’ve always been yours,” You whispered as if you were afraid he might overhear.

He smirked darkly, his fangs bared and his face morphed from beyond your line of vision. Your eyes were closed, enjoying his touch. He suddenly wrenched your head to the side, exposing your neck further.  

He could feel your pulse thrumming faster now.

He swallowed thickly,  before propelling himself towards your neck, ignoring the firing from his chip as he held you in place…