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astronicht · 2 months

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Okay I'm almost done with Fellowship, here's an incomplete list of shit I noticed and thought was buck fucking wild on my first ever read-thru: medieval edition.

In literally the second line of the book, Tolkien implies that Bilbo Baggins wrote a story which was preserved alongside the in-universe version of the Mabinogion (aka the best-known collection of Welsh myths; I promise this is batshit). This is because The Hobbit has been preserved, in Tolkien's AU version of our world, in a "selection of the Red Book of Westmarch" (Prologue, Concerning Hobbits). If you're a medievalist and you see something called "The Red Book of" or "The Black Book of" etc it's a Thing. In this case, a cheeky reference to the Red Book of Hergest (Llyfr Coch Hergest). There are a few Red Books, but only Hergest has stories).

not a medieval thing but i did not expect one common theory among hobbits for the death of Frodo's parents to be A RUMORED MURDER-SUICIDE.

At the beginning of the book a few hobbits report seeing a moving elm tree up on the moors, heading west (thru or past the Shire). I mentioned this in another post, but another rule: if you see an elm tree, that's a Girl Tree. In Norse creation myth, the first people were carved from driftwood by the gods. Their names were Askr (Ash, as in the tree), the first man, and Embla (debated, but likely elm tree), the first woman. A lot of ppl have I think guessed that that was an ent-wife, but like. Literally that was a GIRL. TREE.

Medieval thing: I used to read the runes on the covers of The Hobbit and LOTR for fun when I worked in a bookshop. There's a mix of Old Norse (viking) and Old English runes in use, but all the ones I've noticed so far are real and readable if you know runes.

Tom Bombadil makes perfect sense if you once spent months of your life researching the early medieval art of galdor, which was the use of poems or songs to do a form of word-magic, often incorporating gibberish. If you think maybe Tolkien did not base the entirety of Fellowship so far around learning and using galdor and thus the power of words and stories, that is fine I cannot force you. He did personally translate "galdor" in Beowulf as "spell" (spell, amusingly, used to mean "story"). And also he named an elf Galdor. Like he very much did name an elf Galdor.

Tom Bombadil in fact does galdor from the moment we meet him. He arrives and fights the evil galdor (song) of the willow tree ("old gray willow-man, he's a mighty singer"), which is singing the hobbits to sleep and possibly eating them, with a galdor (song) of his own. Then he wanders off still singing, incorporating gibberish. I think it was at this point that I started clawing my face.

THEN Tom Bombadil makes perfect sense if you've read the description of the scop's songs in Beowulf (Beowulf again, but hey, Tolkien did famously a. translate it b. write a fanfiction about it called Sellic Spell where he gave Beowulf an arguably homoerotic Best Friend). The scop (pronounched shop) is a poet who sings about deeds on earth, but also by profession must know how to sing the song or tell the story of how the cosmos itself came to be. The wise-singer who knows the deep lore of the early universe is a standard trope in Old English literature, not just Beowulf! Anyway Tom Bombadil takes everyone home and tells them THE ENTIRE STORY OF ALL THE AGES OF THE EARTH BACKWARDS UNTIL JUST BEFORE THE MOMENT OF CREATION, THE BIG BANG ITSELF and then Frodo Baggins falls asleep.

Tom Bombadil knows about plate tectonics

This is sort of a lie, Tom Bombadil describes the oceans of old being in a different place, which works as a standard visual of Old English creation, which being Christian followed vaguely Genesis lines, and vaguely Christian Genesis involves a lot of water. TOLKIEN knew about plate tectonics though.

Actually I just checked whether Tolkien knew about plate tectonics because I know the advent of plate tectonics theory took forever bc people HATED it and Alfred Wegener suffered for like 50 years. So! actually while Tolkien was writing LOTR, the scientific community was literally still not sure plate tectonics existed. Tom Bombadil knew tho.

Remember that next time you (a geologist) are forced to look at the Middle Earth map.

I'm not even done with Tom Bombadil but I'm stopping here tonight. Plate tectonics got me. There's a great early (but almost high!) medieval treatise on cosmology and also volcanoes and i wonder if tolkien read it. oh my god. i'm going to bed.

edit: part II

#astro lotr #at what cost

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babyleostuff · 1 month

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call me back

fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!hoshi x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.6k

. . . fighting with you is never easy for hoshi. especially not when an ocean is separating you

was fighting over the last piece of cake stupid and immature? yes. did it feel like hoshi’s whole world was about to collapse when he noticed you ate it? double yes. while your boyfriend wasn’t known for his great patience and non-existent anger issues, he never took his anger out on you, no matter how frustrated and annoyed he was.

well - until last week.

hoshi came home tired and very, very hungry, nothing out of the ordinary, though you could clearly see he was a lot more agitated than usual, so you did what you always did when he came back exhausted like that - gave him space. you were just about to start your nighttime routine when you heard your name being yelled from the kitchen, and not in a happy “baby, my love, my darling, please come hereeee” kind of way.

you didn’t even get a chance to take a breath as you entered the kitchen, coming face to face with soonyoung and his angry pout. “where the fuck is my cake?” he asked, and now, a week later, his words were still echoing through his head.

it was never his intention to lash out at you like that. obviously. he was tired, and hungry, his muscles were aching, he felt like a bad boyfriend for spending so little time with you, and he forgot to buy a gift for his mom's birthday - not that it mattered, nothing could excuse him for being so mean to you. to make matters worse, instead of acting like a man and begging on his knees for your forgiveness, he chickened out and just left.

“man, why don’t you just don’t call her and apologise?” woozi sighed, throwing his head back because it had to be the tenth time he had to listen to hoshi’s story of how he decided to act like the biggest dick over an overpriced piece of a strawberry cake.

“i did but she’s not answering.”

“no shit, i wouldn’t have answered either.”

and that exactly was the biggest problem - it was hard enough to go through a fight while he was home, but now that he was overseas, a thousand kilometres away from you it was impossible. yes, he could send you flowers and shit, but it would only piss you off even more. there was no way for him to show you how truly fucking sorry he was.

“i know you’re angry with me right now, but please,” hoshi took in a shaky inhale. he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so… sad. “please, just call me back,” that had to be the tenth voicemail he left you ever since he left home.

you, on the other hand, weren’t doing much better. you felt like slapping the shit out of him that night in your apartment, and although you were able to control your sudden surge of violence, you didn’t hold back on cursing him out after he left. you even thought about burning his side of the closet but if you did that you’d lose all of your favourite hoodies and flannels, so you gave up on that too.

after your short rage situation, you sat down at kitchen island, and stared at the empty plate where soonyoung’s cake was supposed to be. how were you supposed to know he’d act like that over a cake? obviously you wouldn’t have eaten it then. you figured your boyfriend must’ve had a really bad day at the rehearsals. the past couple of days were really harsh on him, and if you could you’d wrap him in bubble wrap, a couple of blankets, and cuddle the shit out of him for being so strong through all of this.

all of those excuses for him and still - you couldn’t bring yourself to answer his calls and texts, no matter how much listening to his voicemails broke your heart.

“so, um, i know we’re not talking but i’m just calling to tell you good morning. remember to eat, and um, have a great day, baby.”

the boys were slowly losing their patience too (seungcheol asked mingaho if he could share some of his calming tea) because a grumpy hoshi was never a fun hoshi, plus - they hated seeing their best friend constantly beating himself over your fight. there was something lacking without their performance team leader’s spark.

“should we just call her?” mingyu looked over at soonyoung, who was sitting by himself in the corner of the room. “he looks pathetic, moping around like that,” he snorted.

seungcheol groaned, banging his head on jeonghan's shoulder. as they started to get older he started to feel less like a leader but more like a therapist (he really thought about resigning the day seungkwan came whining about a love triangle he got himself into). “they are adults, they should figure it out between themselves.”

“oh come on, do we have to remind you what we had to do for you when you forgot about your girlfriend's birthday so she would forgive you?” mingyu snickered, and pulled out his phone.

you didn’t know what to expect when you saw mingyu’s picture flash over your phone screen. it definitely had something to do with your boyfriend, that much you gathered, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear what he had to say. your boyfriend’s words really hurt you, and no matter how much you wanted to forgive him, you weren’t sure you could do it yet.

eventually, you clicked on the green button with a shaky finger. “yes?” you took a deep inhale and prepared yourself for whatever you were about to hear.

“okay, so you know exactly why i’m calling. your boyfriend looks like a kicked puppy, he stopped saying horanghae, he’s dressed all in black and he looks like he drank an entire bottle of soju. i mean, don't worry, he didn't do it because he would be reeling now, but you get what i mean. whatever happened between the two of you, give us back our hoshi."

"well, that was very tactful," you heard coups' voice in the background.

“can you shut up for one second?”

“no, in fact i can’t.”

“okay, boys, i don’t want to interrupt whatever is going on, but i really need to know if he’s doing as bad as you're saying.”

“bad” didn’t even come close to what hoshi was feeling. at this point he was so angry and frustrated at himself for acting like he acted, that seriously had to be one of his lowest points of his life achievements. now you were going to dump him, and he’d have to drown himself in soju, and grow a beard, and write a sad love song that he’d hear at the radio for the rest of his life, and-

there was no way you were calling him right now. and yet, “h-hello? babe?”

“no, the fucking pope,” he’d have to add a cabin in the woods to his list of what he’d do after you’d break up with him. “kwoon soonyoung, you have to be one of the most insufferable, impatient and immature people i know. all this because of a piece of cake? do you hear how childish that sounds?"

loud and clear, honey.

“that’s why i didn’t apologise in the first place. i immediately realised how fucking stupid i acted, and felt so ashamed of saying all of those awful things to you, and so i just left.”

you sighed defeated. you kind of anticipated him saying that - your boyfriend had a habit of doing things before thinking them over, and as much as you understood him being exhausted and overworked, you still couldn’t forget how small he made you feel that night.

“look, i really don’t want to fight, being away from you is hard enough, but…,” you ran a hand over your face. what were you supposed to do? you spent the last three nights on the couch because you couldn’t fall asleep in your shared bed, and there were so many times when you wanted to text him about the most unserious things that only he’d get, but you just couldn’t. “your words really hurt me.”

“i know, shit, i know, and i’m so fucking sorry. whatever i’ll say it won’t be enough, i should’ve apologised right away. fuck, your boyfriend is such a loser,” you heard him laugh, but it was not the usual soonyoung laugh that made the flowers bloom, and sun shine. “i understand if you want to take a break.”

“that’s the thing, i don’t want to take any breaks. i miss you so much. i miss talking to you every night, i miss our silly conversations, i miss getting my daily hoshi boyfriend pics. i’m sick of seeing your face on twitter and not over face time,” you pulled the sleeve of his sweater over your hand, like it would make you feel any closer to him. “let’s take it slow, maybe?”

you could swear you heard soonyoung exhale, “yes, yes, let’s do that. whatever you need, babe,” he said immediately. “my poor baby must’ve been so nervous.”

“i love you, you know,” you whispered. there was no point in making things worse and pretending that you didn't miss him, and even though it would probably be a while before everything went back to normal, you didn't want him to doubt whether you still loved him as much as you did before.

“i love you too. very much,” he whispered back, finally sounding a bit happier. “and baby? thank you for calling me back.

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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months

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Gojo's little sister seducing Choso at Shibuya

Pairing: Choso x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,6k

Synopsis: When Gojo's little sister is at Shibuya in order to find her brother, she meets none other than Choso - a man that seems to have everything she has ever dreamed about. Is she able to seduce him?

Warnings: the end is spicy as hell so read at own risk, Choso being a lil slow but straightforward in the end, this has no real plot so be aware of brainrot

Tags: @96jnie @shebibtedmypepnis @chososwhoresblog @sanicsmut (you didn't ask for that but I tagged you anyway) @curlynoodle937565 @ifuckfictionalmen (thought you might like that) @nyahctrl @khaleesihavilliard

„Let’s see where you are…”, you mumble to yourself.

Satoru has some nerves, letting himself get sealed when the whole country needs him and his stupid six eyes and hollow purple. You’ll definitely make fun of him for the rest of his life for that. What else should you do? After all, you are his little sister. It’s your job to get on his nerves.

Your heels klick against the hard floor beneath almost therapeutically while your eyes scan the area. Seems like none of these fuckers are here. Who the hell is responsible for this whole mess? Surely not that volcano and flower guy from before, right? If Satoru is smart, he already exorcised both of them.

Something inside you makes you stop in your tracks. There is someone, without any doubt.

“Don’t be shy, you don’t have to hide from me. I promise I won’t bite. Just beating the shit out of you”, you announce into the darkness, the only thing lighting up the hallways being the colorful signs.

This definitely isn’t one of Satoru’s students, that’s for sure. None of them is already skilled enough to hide from your sharp senses. Fuck, even Nanami can’t escape you.

So, who the hell is this?

Your nerves begin to tickle just the way you like it, a bright grin plastered on your face. Finally some action, finally someone you can fight eye to eye. How long has it been since you’ve experienced that? Too long, that’s for sure.

Despite being Satoru’s little sister, you aren’t gifted with six eyes or unlimited cursed energy. No, even though being a member of the Gojo-clan you were never able to meet his standards, always a shadow by his side. Gifted with the same blue eyes but without the glow, gifted with a few strands of white hair but your head isn’t fully snow-colored. That didn’t stop you from becoming a grade 1 sorcerer, one of the bests under the special ranks. Yes, you are an exceptional jujutsu sorcerer all by yourself, without being gifted since birth.

But regardless of your big brother always came first, he loves you with all his heart. Protected you when you didn’t want to be protected, trained you even though you hated getting beaten by him, comforted you when all you could do was cry. To be honest, Satoru is the best big brother you could have asked for and it’s your responsibility to save him. What do you have siblings for?

“You’re starting to get on my nerves. Come out or get out of the way.”

Foreign steps start to echo through the hallway, making your heart hammer against your ribcage in an instant. These footsteps don’t sound familiar to you, you haven’t met whoever this is yet.

Your vibrant blue eyes dart towards the figure of what seems like a man, coming closer and closer to you. He’s tall, dark hair hanging into his face. Oh, his face…he’s really handsome with that tattoo over his nose. Since being Satoru’s sister comes with meeting many good-looking man, this is nothing new to you. But something about him is special, more your type. A look into his brown violet eyes is enough to get lost in them.

“You’re hot”, you coo out, heels clicking while you approach him.

“Who are you?”, his deep but bored voice questions.

Choso hates to admit it, but you’re easy on his eyes. Something about your appearance seems familiar while he’s sure he has never seen you before. That ocean eyes…

“You look like Satoru Gojo.”

“Yeah, I hate to admit it but I’m his little sister. Are we really that similar? I don’t want to look like him”, you remark, face twisted.

That means you’re his enemy, that means he has to kill you. Instinctively, he shoots slicing exorcism your way, attempting to pierce right through your heart at horrendous speed.

“Watch out, that is dangerous!”, you warn him, flying through the air with ease to avoid his attack.

Damn, you’re fast. Your speed is exceptional for a human being, almost as fast as Satoru Gojo himself.

“Let me come closer”, you hush.

Before he’s able to react any further, you stand right in front of him, fists flying his direction.

“You’re so quiet, what’s on your mind?”, you insist, careful to not get sliced open by his blood manipulation.

“I wish you were too”, he hisses before catching your fist mid-air and slamming your body into the ground.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad”, you purr, hands grabbing his strong shoulders tightly.

Satoru would kill you right here on the spot if he’d hear you, always disliking your taste in men like nothing else.

“I think he’s kinda hot”, you admitted while eyeing the dark-haired boy from Kyoto named Kamo.

Satoru almost choked on his coke, eyes and face screaming in disgust.

Are you serious, (y/n)? What the fuck is wrong with your taste in men, why always the bad ones? Maybe you should get them checked.”

He roughly smacked the back of your head, making you almost lose it completely.

“Are you out of your mind, idiot? I heard your eyes can freeze if someone hits you in the head while you’re squinting!”

“Your eyes aren’t functioning properly anyway. How about someone like Yuta or somethin’, a nice guy with good intentions. Or even better, just do this world a favor and stay single.”

“Can you just shut the fuck up? You have nothing to say to me!”

“I AM YOUR BIG BROTHER-“

“CAN YOU TWO SHUT UP ALREADY!?”

Hehe. You smile to yourself while shaking your head, focus back on the man in front of you. Oh, you can tell by the way he moves that he’s absolutely buff underneath that cloak. And his eyes…They look even more stunning up close. What a gorgeous man. Yes, he’s definitely more than your type. Who is he?

“Tell me your name.”

With a swift motion, you’re back on your feet, curse-loaded fists aiming for him.

“Choso Kamo”, he presses out.

What’s wrong with you? Are you really trying to seduce him while battling? He’s your enemy, he’s on his way to kill your comrade, he…you…

Why are you so good-looking? And why does your confident smile make his usual calm heart flutter? You don’t seem scared at all, let alone determined to kill him.

“Oh, that explains the blood manipulation.”

“I’m here to kill Yuji Itadori.”

“Yuji, huh? What did that poor boy do to deserve your hate?”, you question, letting yourself fall into a split to avoid his blood.

“He killed my brothers”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

You stop in your tracks for a second, gaze fixed upon his. Oh. This certainly wasn’t the answer you were expecting. In your mind, all of these curses and the people working with them are cold-hearted monsters, walking on this earth to kill every human that gets in their way. But Choso…

You can feel his pain.

“I’m sorry to hear that”, you breathe out.

And you mean it. You’d be devastated too if someone killed Satoru, seeking for revenge with every fiber of your being.

Your glistening eyes and words make it hard for Choso to raise his hand against you. The eyes that look like those of Satoru Gojo, those eyes that are partly responsible for the death of his beloved brothers. No, he can’t let you get away, you are a part of the problem, you have to die, you…

You are grabbing his hand.

“If someone killed my brother, I would do exactly the same thing. But let me tell you this wasn’t easy for Yuji, he had no other choice-“

“I don’t want to hear it”, Choso yells, slapping your hand away, trying to slash you open again.

“Good for you I like my man feisty and strong. You’re a great catch”, you shout, entangling him in close combat again.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you understand that we are on different sides?”, he questions.

“Why though? We’d be a perfect match. I bet those fingers look good around my neck.”

The way Choso’s face instantly twists in disbelief and that little blush that creeps up his face are the best things you’ve seen for a long time while suddenly water rains down on him, fire alarms going off around both of you.

“Opsie, might have hit something important”, you comment, white uniform now soaked in water.

Did you really just say that? Are you too dumb to realize that he is your enemy, that romance has no place in his world, that he is fucking reincarnated? No, you are way too smart to not be aware of the fact who he is. You simply decide to ignore it.

But not only that, are you really flirting with him? Choso never really thought much about his appearance, it was never his goal to be ‘attractive’. But at the moment, when seeing your wet skin, your eyes lingering over him…

Something about your words and looks make him wonder.

“Do you…really mean that?”, he mumbles while blocking your attack.

“Huh, that you’re hotter than hell? Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m lying.”

Choso feels like fainting when your dripping face comes so close that it’s only inches away from his own, your mesmerizing orbs locking with his through wet lashes while your hands rest against his chest. Can you feel his heart hammer, can you tell that this the first time a women ever touched him? Oh god, what is he supposed to do? He has a mission, he needs to kill Yuji Itadori, he-

Your fingers start to draw small circles over the fabric of his soaked cloak, making something twitch inside his pants. Fuck, why do you have to look so absolutely stunning when your hair is completely wet, light up by purple light that makes you look almost angelic?

“Oh god”, he breathes out.

This feels so good. No, this is so wrong.

“You…you shouldn’t be flirting with me. I am party responsible for your brother getting sealed and killed. I am your enemy.”

“Urgh, stop talking about my damn brother, he’s fine anyway. He doesn’t let himself get killed by some idiots. And you don’t have to me my enemy. Let’s be…friends”, you suggest.

“Friends”, he repeats.

“Maybe more, who knows…I’m not mad about the things you’ve done. I fully understand why you’re outraged and what your mission is, I respect your motives”, you reply.

God, why does he have to be so breathtaking beautiful and relatable? Under all the men you’ve met, why is it exactly him you fell the hardest for? Why can’t it be someone like Ino or Todo? Why does it have to be him? Oh, Satoru will definitely kill you when he finds out about it.

But you don’t care. No, Choso has something you were looking for in every man you’ve met before. He is strong, outstanding smart, has clear goals, is straight up stunning and a little dangerous. You couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re standing on opposite sides.

You want him.

“You won’t stop me from killing Yuji Itadori.”

“I will have to try. But until then, there is absolutely no reason for us to fight, right? I’m into bad guys anyway.”

Choso looks at you completely lost at words. You, a breathtaking fine-looking and skilled jujutsu sorcerer, are really interested in getting to know him? This has to be a dream he didn’t know about until now, a deep desire that comes to life.

But he can’t resist. Despite all the things that speak against it, he can’t.

“Fine”, he grumbles.

“Great! Would you mind taking off that cloak so I can see your abs?”, you ask, eyes sparkling in excitement.

But why is this not enough? Why is a simple ‘fine’ not enough to fulfill that desire? Something inside him begs him to pull you closer, to hold your body firmly against his, kiss you and-

He swallows heavy. What has gotten into him?

“I won’t do that”, he automatically replies, gaze fixed on your pretty little mouth.

Oh, the things he wants to do right now, things he never thought about before. Is it because of the human body he reincarnated him? No, he never felt the desire to be close to a woman before. It’s because of you and the way you tilt your head, how you seem to know which words you have to use in order to drive him insane.

“Oh, was it too early for that? Fine, I’ll wait then… ”

Fuck it.

It happens faster than you’re able to react. With a swift motion, Choso pins you against a nearby wall, looking down at you with dark eyes.

“What do you have that other women haven’t had before?”, he hisses.

“Beauty, brain, power…”

You aren’t able to finish your ramblings. With rough hands, he grabs your waist and neck before pressing his lips against yours. You melt into his touch in an instant, too stunned by this sudden reaction. Instinctively, your very own hands begin to roam around his body, muscles now perfectly emphasized by the stream of water that pours down on both of you through the dim purple neon lights. Fuck, you’re melting like butter in his hands, your shared sloppy kiss being the only thing apart from the dripping water that fills the empty hallway.

“Fuck”, you moan into his lips, fingertips tracing through his wet hair.

This is straight out of your dreams. Making out with a man you didn’t even know an hour ago, a man that seems to have everything you want, a man who’s your enemy. But since when are enemies this good at kissing, since when is it allowed that they are so damn fine?

Why the hell are you so turned on?

He let’s go of you as suddenly as he grabbed you before, panting hard while looking down at you with glimmering eyes.

“I will search for Yuji Itadori now”, he proclaims, licking over his lips and closing his eyes for a second.

Slowly but surely, Choso returns back into reality, mind sorting itself. That felt good, way too good for his liking. If he didn’t let go, he’d probably stay here with you until the night ends. But he still has a mission to fulfill.

“You sure about that? Y’know, we could stay here a little longer, that fire alarm with all that water pouring down and the neon lights are kinda romantic…”, you begin.

“I’ll meet you again. Until then, don’t get in the way.”

One last touch. He allows his fingertips to brush over your cheek and mouth one last time before turning around and disappearing.

He’s gone, leaving you sinking down the wall as your knees give in. Mindlessly, your fingertips trace over your lips.

This really happened. Did you really just seduce the enemy? Your heart still hammers roughly against your chest, hands trembling in sensation while the water from above keeps pouring down on you. No man ever touched you like that, no man ever gave you that kind of feeling. Fuck, what did you get yourself into?

You chuckle into yourself, eyes fixed on the pouring water.

“If Satoru finds out about that…”

Click here for Part ll

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a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 7 months

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Some Cuts and Bruises

Husband Ghost x Wife Reader

While things begin to steam up between you and Simon, you notice the fresh bruises on his face from work...

Mild NSFW 18+, Not Smut, but a little graphic still, Extreme Fluff, Husband!Ghost, Hurt and Comfort, Domestic, Suggestive Situations, Consensual Touching, Kissing, Cuddling, Mutual Love, Soft, Drabble, Scarcely Proofread

This was random. Please enjoy!

Masterlist

You sat on your couch, hardcover book in hand and table lamp at your side. That orangy, warm glow around your living room felt calming in this autumn evening; the perfect time for a warm sweater and some hot cocoa. The book itself hadn't grown interesting until a few chapters in, but now it's become a real page-turner, to say the least.

It's had your attention so wrapped on the old pages that you don't even notice the front door open and shut, nor do you hear the heavy footsteps make their way into the living room where you reside.

Nothing snaps your attention out of it, until you've suddenly felt a large, rough hand slowly curve beneath your arm and gently cup your breast.

You gasp at the initial touch, your book lowering and your body jolting somewhat, feeling the hand continue on until it's fully cupped over you, giving you gentle squeeze and kneading you like dough.

A second hand wraps around you, cupping your other breast and pressing your back against the cushions of the couch. It's there your head grazes the gear-clad body of your husband, Simon.

You cock your head back to look at the man properly, catching his skull mask in the dim lighting, along with the lust-stained glint in his deep brown eyes. From the looks of his gear and uniform, all worn down and covered in mysterious shades of dirt and dust, he's just gotten off work. A pleasant surprise as always.

"Mm, welcome home, Si'," you smile, your lashes fluttering at this brute of a man behind you. "How was your day?"

"A lot better now that I'm home," he says.

Simon lets a hand slip beneath the collar of your shirt, coarse fingers running against the bare parts of your skin, and lightly tugging your bra away. Rather presumptuous of him, but not completely unexpected. It felt the longer you two were together, the harder it's been for him to keep his hands off you.

"Is that right?" you giggle, his touch making you shiver against him. You always felt you did a pretty decent job at hiding how responsive your body had been to his touch, yet something told you Simon knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you. The same one you had on him. "Excited for some more preheated pizza tonight, are we?"

His fingers felt for your nipple, finding it with ease and letting his two fingers gently pinch at it, your breaths exiting you in tatters. As he plucks and plays with you slowly, savory the very sensation of your warm breast against his palms again, he leans down, growing more near you. His mask-clad lips press gently to the shell of your ear, whispering to you lightly, "More excited for my dessert."

"Having dessert first will only spoil the main coarse," you tease.

"A little taste won't ruin my appetite," he says.

You playfully roll your eyes, before a soft moan leaves your lips, his hands becoming more greedy with their movements. You knew he'd been hungering for you all day by the way he touched you, letting his body lean over the couch behind you, keeping you pressed back. A gruff sigh leaves him as your head brushes into him, just faintly pressing against the growing indent in his pants.

"Well take your shit off and get over here already," you order him. "My book was just getting to the best part."

"Yes ma'am."

Simon wastes no time in shedding off his gear, beginning with his gloves, then his boots, soon followed by his jacket and belt. As his hands reached for his balaclava, however, he stops suddenly, almost catching himself from doing so.

Had you not been busy bookmarking where you left off in your book, you may have noticed his sudden hesitancy to unmask himself. Though the reasons for them could not be held from you for much longer.

Simon makes his way around the couch, and like a puzzle piece having found its place, he's fallen into your arms, crushing you into the couch with all of his weight. It takes the air from you and springs a dramatic "oomph" from your lips, the man having found some twisted entertainment in treating you like a teddy bear at times. It hadn't helped you always made squeaky noises like one whenever he squeezed you with his arms during a hug or a cuddle. And while he's sure you found it annoying at times, he loved the way it made him feel to have you so near.

Your hands find the end of his mask and you begin to peel it up, excited to see your husband's face again. That's when you notice the bruises.

Your heart sinks at the sight, hands growing cold as you looked to him with concern. Not to leave yourself in suspense, you remove his mask completely, seeing his short, blond hair come out in a light fluff, his brown eyes staring back at you with a held breath.

You see all the new, small bruises and cuts on his face, some bandaged and others already scabbed over, set to become new scars alongside his old ones.

Your lip quivers, a small gasp leaving you at the sight. "Simon..." you say. "...What happened? You're hurt..."

"Oh it's nothin', love," he speaks nonchalantly. "Just some rough housing on the job."

He's cavalier about it, Simon often was when these things happened. He hadn't wanted you to worry about him, no more than you already do. He wanted to be your rock, your safe haven, your one guaranteed thing in this world. And he wanted you to sleep easy at night, not lying up worrying about him. If that meant shrugging off some scratches then so be it. Though it isn't something you can help.

It was a long time before Simon opened up to you about his past. You hadn't wanted to push him, and it wasn't until about two years in where he found a moment that felt right to actually bring it up. To say his life wasn't easy would be a understatement, and you couldn't help but worry because of it.

But you worried less so for his safety these days, and rather his own peace and happiness. You knew the man would sacrifice himself -- body and soul -- for the Task Force, despite whatever fronts he led on with the others.

"Are you OK?"

It's the only thing you can think to ask once you've fully taken in his battered appearance. The only thing that really mattered.

Simon smiles softly, your little ways of showing you cared for him making him fall in love with you all over again. "I am," he says. "You should see the other guy."

"Is he in the hospital?"

"More like six feet under."

Your eyes grow wide, and it makes the man bellow out into a deep, rumbly, laughter. "I'm only joking, love," he smiles.

"Oh, are you?" you tease.

"Today at least."

"Oh good," you smirk. And then, in a small moment of seriousness, you let your thumb graze his chin, feeling his rough stubble against your skin. "Just please, please try and be safe, Si'."

Simon leans in and lets his lips press lightly against yours, tasting you with the first kiss of many he planned to give you tonight. He pulls back lightly, bringing his hand to the bottom of your chin and using his finger to prop your head up, bringing your eyes to his.

"Very well," he says. "Now, where were we?"

"Aw yes," you giggle. "Dessert."

Simon leans back down to kiss you, your tongue tasting the hints of iron and blood which still resided on his tongue, your fingers grazing over the rigid grooves of his skin.

He kisses you like a man who's found a certainty to things again, his hands exploring your body, bringing you pleasure and seering the very essence of you into his skin.

You loved this man, and all his shapings and imperfections. As he continued to have his way with you on the couch of your living room, you thought of his wounds once more, further relaxing in his touch. If he said he was OK, then you wanted to believe him.

(^ ^)

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty #modern warfare ii #call of duty modern warfare ii #mw2022 #mwii #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost simon riley #simon riley #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #Spotify

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techmomma · 11 months

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look. they're dead if they're not on the surface. if they're not, they and everyone else will wish they were. an implosion is the kindest death they could have down there.

here are some things to keep in mind:

the deepest operational depths, meaning the safest depth that a manned crew could, potentially, rescue a submersible, is 300 meters. 980 feet. just under a 1000 feet. classified subs may be able to go deeper but that limit is like maybe 100 feet more. submarines cannot go trawling around sea floors unless they're relatively close to the coast

the titanic is 2.4 miles deep. 3840 meters. 12,600 feet. 12 times the operational depth of even the best naval submarines.

this tourist submersible's greatest operating depth? 13,000 feet. they're already at 96% of their operating depth. there's about a 4% margin before shit goes sideways, in normal circumstances

96 hours of oxygen is what OceanGate has told everyone this submersible has. this unregulated, untested sub. that they made. 96 hours of oxygen is probably being very, very generous.

there's only like a handful of submersibles, in the entire world, that can reach those depths. there's more ROVs that can reach deeper, but what percentage could help pull an entire submersible that can fit five people? their best bet is going to be getting some kind of remotely-operated flotation device attached to the submersible.

descending and ascending in a submersible is an incredibly delicate process that takes careful monitoring and delicate instruments. if they attach the flotation device then they're going to need something to monitor the internal and external pressure of the submersible. expanding gas could create a leak, which would instantly implode the submersible on the way up. not to mention gases and ballast must be monitored to prevent the occupants from getting the Bends, which can be fatal of itself.

all of this going to be made infinitely harder if the submersible is, as some suspect, tangled in the wreckage itself, which presents a hundred more problems such as zero visibility, structural collapse of several thousand tonnes of rusting iron and steel, punctures, etc..

all of this is assuming they are still conscious inside, and even have power. no power? even more difficult.

none of this is including the numerous defects the submersible is suspected of having, such as a CO2 filter. this is all assuming this submersible had zero defects--unlikely, considering their own words on why they didn't wait for inspection.

There is a goddamn reason they send ROVs down to the Titanic. There is a reason it should only be done by non-profit groups. There is a reason there should be oversight from the Navy and Coastguard. There is a reason that any human visitation is a carefully coordinated and monitored effort, where the majority are trained technicians inside the submersible and out. There is a reason that submarine crew and research crews also go through psychological evaluations, go through training to understand what to do in life-threatening situations. All of them, not just one dude at the controls.

Because they understand that, like Mt. Everest, when things go wrong down there, it is so hazardous to even any would-be rescuers that you will be on your own, and you will, almost certainly, die. And they may not even be able to retrieve your body, because that too is life-threatening to rescuers. Frankly, emergencies at the top of Mt. Everest are less dangerous than emergencies at the bottom of the ocean.

The ocean is actively trying to kill you down there. It's safer to visit space right now than it is to visit the bottom of the ocean. People haven't gone down there just to get a looky-loo. People are sent down there because there's certain things that only human eyes and senses can do, when it comes to research.

The deep ocean is not a place for fucking rich tourists to live out their James Cameron fantasies of seeing the prow come out of the darkness like in the movie. Whether you believe it's a gravesite that shouldn't be disturbed at all or not, tourists should not be goddamn down there.

Money won't save you at 12,000 feet at the bottom of the sea, motherfuckers. A divine miracle won't save them. But a miracle of human ingenuity, if there's some merciful force out there, just might.

#titanic submersible

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occamstfs · 2 months

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Coast Guard Compensation

Here's another military TF, delinquent disrespects the Coast Guard and finds definitely sub-standard civilian processing -Occam

Marcus was being issued a simple ticket for drinking while driving a boat. That would’ve been the end of it if he had just shut his mouth. Unfortunately his brother was not quick enough to prevent him from tearing into the officer. Before he even begins to return to his boat Marcus is shouting at the officer swearing that he shouldn’t even have the authority to issue tickets. That he knows better than some doofus elinstee. He tosses the ticket into the sea as he continues to shout, “this is just bullshit dude! You’re just taking it out on us to feel like a man huh? Couldn’t even do well enough in boot camp to make the Army so you’ll make it all our problem!”

Ensign Harrison’s eyes followed the litter as it blew into the ocean before returning to the still shouting man. Harrison’ smirks as he approaches Marcus who despite being at least a foot shorter continues on his tirade. Jacob has seen his brother get this fired up before but nothing like this. He could only gawk as brother continued to shout vitriol as the officer approached to tower over him, Jacob could not even think to move or intervene.

Harrison lifts Marcus by the collar and simply states, “on top of driving while intoxicated you have also littered into the fine blue sea, and verbally assaulted an officer. Under the authority invested in me by the US Coast Guard I am going to take you back to the station.” Marcus rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to retort but is tossed like a sandbag into the USCG boat. The Ensign briefly scowls at Jacob, who despite being sure this is not appropriate, can not bring himself to take any action against the man who is by all intents kidnapping his brother.

Having established his dominance he returns to his boat to accost the problem at hand. He speeds away in his boat hearing nothing but the boat cutting through the wind and crashing through the waves. The toss seems to have knocked Marcus unconscious, to the sick pleasure of the man driving the boat. Though as they near shore, he comes to and begins anew the derision of his captor. He groans out a “you fuckin’ glorified beach cop…” To which Harrison just smirks in retort, grabbing the only barely conscious Marcus into his patrol car and starts driving back to the station.

He stares at Marcus in the rearview mirror and once he sees the glimmer of conscious return he finally offers a reply, “you don’t know what yer talkin’ about kid.” Marcus squints his eyes at the officer driving his car, knowing something weird was occurring. Something so far out of his hands was happening to him and he needed to use everything in his power to have some curve on the ball. The dick in front of him was arresting him against his will and he was not going to go down without a fight. He is going to use the only weapon afforded to him and use his mouth.

“Really, you must’ve done pretty bad to flunk out of the naval academy right? Their best guys are absolute dullards and you didn’t even make it to step one I bet.” Ensign Harrison’s scowl grows deeper as he pulls the car over. Marcus, refusing to let the chance slip by, turns it up even more. If he can get Harrison to open his door he just needs to bolt. “Oooh scary, bet you feel like a big guy huh! You got a five foot flat guy ten years younger than you in your backseat. I bet you’re just fantasizing about what you can do to me, you fashy pig! You fuckin-” Harrison clears his throat interrupting as Marcus sees veins start to bulge out of his neck and his eyes darken in the rear view mirror. He starts the car going once more and says, “think it’s best if you apologize kid. Ain’t nuthin’ good gonna come out of you talkin’ shit.”

Marcus scrambles to think what his next move should be. Obviously, fashy pig he may be, but Harrison was correct in that the only rational thing to do would be apologize. Harrison even wants to, but any time he even starts to open his mouth to do so his entire throat goes dry and his head burns hot. It distracts him. It angers him. He was going to? What was he? No, he certainly wasn’t going to apologize. To the asshole who ruined his fishing trip, absolutely not.

Harrison’s eyes continue to glower as he exits the car to retrieve Marcus, who in turn observes everything he can about the Coast Guard Station before he’s pulled out. Seeing cameras he starts to hatch a plan before he hears the door slam open and the thought of Harrison disrespecting their equipment is suddenly the only thing in his mind. Jesus that oaf, he’s making them look like even more of a joke than they are. Harrison’s face burns red as he reads nothing but a look of derision in response to this blatant attempt at intimidation.

Marcus quickly tries to escalate, taunting the trooper, “we’re on camera now fash! What’re you gonna do huh, hope you’re ready to-“ He was cut off as a hand is quickly thrust on his neck, a move he was all too familiar with, though he would vastly prefer to be on the other side. He struggles out a performative moan as the hand grows tighter moving up towards his jaw, before breaking out into coughing laughter.

True rage appears in Ensign Harrison’s eyes as he pushes Marcus’ head down into the seat, spitting on his face before letting him go. Still leaning over Marcus, he talks through his teeth, “That’s it you fucker. Hope your little jokes were worth it. You’ve had every chance and you’ve run your fuckin’ mouth. Clearly someone needs to set you straight.”

Finally getting out a sentence without being interrupted, he looks to see an expression of hunger on Marcus’ spit-covered face. Not what he expected and certainly not what he wanted, and as he glances further down he sees an even less pleasant sign growing in Marcus’ swim shorts as a boner swiftly becomes impossible to miss. As Marcus regains his breath he chokes out a “that’s all you got?” To which Harrison begins to feel a heat in his own crotch that is met with both self-derision and an eagerness for the kid to be gone.

Starting to feel out of his depth, despite ostensibly being in charge, Harrison leads Marcus in, taking great care to hide the growing cock in his uniform, which Marcus neglects to attempt, letting his own swing in his shorts. Upon getting inside he leads Marcus to an unoccupied office and locks the door behind him, demanding he stay there and keep his hands off everything while Harrison finishes processing him.

This was beyond irresponsible, but he cannot stand being near the delinquent one second longer, and something about Marcus now makes him think that it’s fine if he’s in this office. Marcus rolls his eyes and agrees though as soon as the lock turns his hands are in a desk drawer. Before he snoops though he wonders about how empty the station is, weird that he didn’t see a single other soldier right? Must be why the pig was trying to flex so hard on him and his brother, trying to hide what a pathetic joke this operation is.

He also briefly thinks about making a break for it, before remembering that Harrison has a gun on his belt. He hasn’t pulled it on him yet but surely as soon as he got the chance to shoot at a runner he’d probably blow his load. He rolls his eyes thinking how Harrison must be compensating. He’s sure all soldiers are, anyone so obsessed with guns and power clearly has something going on.

As he continues this line of thought though, he can’t help but feel that, well, but wouldn’t he want a gun too? Just to have that power? Or just in case? As he thinks about the weight of a gun in his hands he finally remembers that he is rooting around in a desk, as his hands find purchase on what can only be a weighty wallet. He smirks as he palms it thinking of the schmuck Navy flunkee whose credit card is gonna buy him and his brother lunch once he’s out of here. Marcus starts to go through it looking for anything particularly juicy to nab. He hunches over the wallet, conspicuously hiding something, though no one is there to see him.

He shoves the cash into his pocket and finds a license, his eyes glaze over as he tries to look at the name and photo of the man. Not that he cares really though, soldiers are all the same. He continues to hunch and as he does so his back begins growing wider, as if he’s willing it to hide his deeds better. His button up starts to get in the way of his movements so he starts to unbutton it as he feels an itch on the face. He realizes, god, he never wiped that pig’s spit off his face.

His shirt now hanging unbuttoned on his wider shoulders, he raises his arm to wipe whatever surely steroid-filled dried spit remains on his face and finds nothing but a face that is decidedly rougher than it should be. Day on the beach must have been pretty rough on his skin. Maybe he did overdo it today? I mean what was he doing drinking on the job anyway. He pauses before correcting himself, fishing, he was just fishing today. He groans and spins in the desk chair, fuck he needs to get back out there. This room is giving him a headache or something.

It’s kinda hot in here too? Bet that fucker turned up the heater to torture me. Marcus shoves the wallet in his back pocket and goes to stand and inspect other parts of the room before immediately falling over. As he lies on the floor his sweaty chest grows even larger, his traps expand to strain the now unbuttoned shirt as sweaty pecs force themselves into existence pressing into the cold tile floor. Then greater than anything else he feels the wallet pressing against his ass. He might not have noticed how much his upper body has grown, but his legs certainly have and if they want to support it, they need to grow.

He moans to himself. His thighs fill his swim trunks enough to make one wonder how he could even get them on. His ass grows enough to make it clear that the only way they’re coming off is to be ripped off. His bulge on the other side endeavors to make headway to this end as his cock forces its way down his pant leg and his balls swell over twice their size trying to keep up the testosterone production this body demands.

He struggles to his feet, making careful movements as to not burst open his pants then and there. Not to be deterred from his M.O. he hobbles over to a bookshelf and continues to investigate. Marcus sees a bunch of dusty tomes that feel vaguely familiar, though he of course would never want nor need to read whatever droll garbage lies inside of them. Finally he remembers just how bizarre his situation is. What the fuck is he doing? He’s literally being processed for an arrest, or whatever these knock-off cops are gonna do, and he’s just gonna steal some actually important guy’s wallet?

Neglecting to inspect how knows the importance of whoever’s office this is, he instead trains his eyes on the bookshelf. Marcus finds himself eye level with the highest shelf which he knows was not possible when he walked in. He would’ve had to jump to grab any of these books and now he can reach them flat footed. He starts to look down and see just what is happening but as he does there’s another hot flash and he leans against the shelf in pain. God! This fuckin’ place, needs to fix the fuckin’ AC or something. He pushes back against the wall not noticing he stands even taller now as a breeze wicks sweat off his ever more exposed midriff and torso and he sees a conspicuously not dusty manual.

Weird, he’s up to date on all his regulations yeah? He pulls it off, knocking dust loose from the surrounding tomes, causing him to sneeze, his neck bursting wide enough to tear shirt open were it not unbuttoned. His vocal chords thicken as he clears his throat and returns to sit down at the desk. He opens the book wondering what’s so special about this manual, causing a picture to fall to the floor.

He laughs as he grabs it and finds it is a compromising picture of Ensign Harrison. He smirks wondering just what he has stumbled into as he finds himself absorbed into the image. His eyes can’t help but trace the strong curves and powerful muscles of his, the Ensign’s body. His cock gets the messages and finally grows enough to tear a hole in the side of his swim trunks and hsi free hand immediately goes to paw it. God, he needs to see Harrison like this in real life. Drool begins to pool in his mouth as he continues to drink in the image. It spills down his chin as he sees the look of begging in Harrison's eyes, when there is suddenly a scuffle at the door.

Mark takes the second he has to hide the photograph and rip his hand off his painfully erect dick, as Harrison bursts into the room. Nonplussed as ever he looks with a sneer at Marcus with no reaction that he looks any different than when he was booked. Under his breath he complains that Mark’s clothes are far too tight for any respectable man before. He can’t hide the blush on his face though as he asks Mark to button up his shirt before getting to the real purpose he came in, “You didn’t give me your ID uh, kid?” His eyes glaze over at the incongruity of calling the man before him kid and he blushes as Mark sneers at him in return. Raising his sharpening jaw in disdain he produces the I.D. of the Coast Guard officer in his pocket without a second thought and offers it to Harrison.

The Ensign goes to grab it, sniffing the air as he does so and making a clear face of discomfort. Marcus doesn’t notice how he smells, not his problem, if lesser men are bothered so be it. But Harrison makes haste to leave the room, on his way out saying “You better not get your stink on the furniture, ki-, uh, Sir.” Angry at himself for calling that delinquent sir he slams the door and locks it once more, leaving Mark alone in the room, his erection pulsing even larger at being called Sir.

That ball buster needs to learn his fuckin’ place, Mark thinks, I’m in charge here after all. Or? Hm. I mean I pay his wage right, tax-payers and all. Something like that. He rubs his scratchy, sharper jaw as he feels his clothes near their limit. He pauses to decide which drawer to raid next. He settles on the top left drawer and as soon as he does he slams it open only to jump back in shock, his body flexing and tensing as he hears something heavy loudly slam into the back of the open drawer. His biceps rip apart his sleeves as reaches into the drawer and feels ice cold carbon steel. His left arm burns as tattoos he doesn’t remember getting begin to stain his whole arm. He pulls out a gun, His Gun, and begins to inspect it.

He feels a regulation mustache push out of his upper lip, the one he’s always had right? He feels the burn of more ink appear on his torso as it begins to grow shredded. He feels the lengthy hair cut he has always been proud of pull into his head, leaving nothing but a high and tight that can only display the void of a personality that the military demands. He feels the weight of the gun in his hands not noticing as his clothes begin to reform around him. Good thing he got those stupid dress clothes off, he’s at work. He needs to be in uniform.

The scraps of his dress shirt cling back to him and turn into the same respectable military green of any branch. He feels a nylon shirt cling to his sweaty pecs as a thicker top slides over his biceps, struggling to keep them contained. His attention is drawn, as it often is, straight to his cock as he feels his torn swim trunks grow into silkies that are only just able to hide his impressive bulge. He is able to stuff it down the leg of his trousers as they form around his impossibly thick thighs, though even a passing observer would be able to see the beer can running down his leg. His pants are already custom made to fit his ass and thighs, it’s not like he can, or even wants to, hide his masculinity any more. He is thankful though that his, may as well be kevlar, boxers keep him from constantly staining his pants with pre.

Still rubbing his cock through his pants, he releases the unloaded magazine of the gun and moans as wrinkles begin to form under his steely eyes. He absolutely fills his pants with pre and nearly finishes the job before there is another knock at the door. He groans as his body grows once more in agitation, his veins bulging out in aggression as a definitely not regulation beard pushed out of his jaw. But he’s in charge here. He’ll get it back to reg as soon as those fuckers start giving him some respect.

Before waiting for an answer Harrison bursts in, preparing to continue his little power trip, though as he sees the man sitting at the desk, gun drawn and more importantly now in uniform, he can do nothing but salute and shout “Captain, uh! Sir!”

Absolutely not ready or willing to set him at ease Mark gets up and begins to walk over. Captain huh, he likes that. The Captain walks up to Harrison and starts to tease his Ensign. His already deeper voice grows gravelly and gruff as he rubs his thumb across the saluting soldier's jaw, “Now Harry, I don’t believe I gave you permission to enter, did I?” Harrison gulps as The Captain continues, “Now are you here now on business, or is there something else I can do for you?” Harrison glances down to the impossible bulge in his captain’s pants, causing Mark to smirk and all-too-familiarly launch his hand to his Ensign’s jaw. He forces Harrison to make eye contact with him. He gulps once more as he hears the fabric stretch in The Captains pants and his face grows red. He shuts his eyes, feeling his own cock instantly surge into an erection. “I- uh, there was a call, sir!”

The Captain’s look of hunger changes slightly and he grins, “a call hm? At ease, Soldier.” Harrison collapses against the door, his eyes still closed, lest he cum on the spot from seeing The Captain in front of him. Mark then leans over him to whisper to him, his breath tickling the neck of the Ensign, “Now, why don’t we go show these fuckin’ delinquents just what business the US Coast Guard means hm?” Harrison’s eyes open as his body convulses, cumming as he slides down the door, moaning in shame. In turn The Captain stands and prepares to go gather some more recruits, the station has been awfully quiet recently. Just him and pathetic little Harrison, they could use some fresh blood, which he will inevitably gather at whatever bonfire or fishing crew they are about to raid...

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #military tf #muscle tf

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 2 months

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Cod Threesomes

Requested: No

Warnings/Additional Tags: GN!Reader, Smut, Threesomes, Anal, Oral (M receiving), light choking, Implied polyam relationships, Fingering, Voyeurism, Biting

A/N: I need to be sedated, I spaced out for 2 seconds then suddenly I had a thousand words.

Gaz & Price

“Tha’s it, Love. Taking it so well.” Gaz pants, head buried in the crook of your neck, hands gripping at your hips so tight that it hurt a little bit. “Just….Just a little more.” He tells you, carefully sliding his cock in the slightest inch more, sending your eyes rolling back into your skull.

“Can’t.” You say, digging your nails into his biceps, clinging to him for dear life, teary eyes darting behind him to look into the deep ocean blue of Price’s gaze. “T-Too much.”

“Nonsense.” The older man grunts, and you could feel the way he humped harder into Kyle, your boyfriend choking on a gasp, twitching above you so hard you were almost worried, a string of drool slipping off his lips and splattering onto your chest, making you jump. “You’ve taken it before, you’ll take it again.”

“M-might help if you go just a little slower.” Kyle says, yelping when his words earned him a heavy handed smack to the ass, Price’s big hand squeezing the now tender skin to prolong the initial sting, thumb pulling aside the cheek so his superior could look down and see where his cock was disappearing into Gaz’s hole.

“I know what’s best, for both of you.” Price grunts, his free hand going to wrap loosely around your throat, both you and Gaz’s eyes going glassy when he does, blunt nails scraping against your skin. “We do things my way, or no way.”

A resounding “yes, sir.” was all you both could say in return.

Ghost & Soap

“So pretty, Love.” Soap cooed in your ear, warm hands rubbing at your hips, his knees spreading your legs open wide, your back to his chest and his dripping cock rubbing against your ass as Ghost’s lubed up fingers work you open, scissoring the thick digits inside your warm opening. “Taking his fingers so well, can’t wait to see you take his cock.”

You whimper at his words, feeling them burn through you like a heat flash, settling thick and sticky in your lower belly. Your pathetic sounds combined with your little squirms seemed to amuse Simon, if the smirk on what little of his face you could see was any indication.

“If they’ll be able to take my cock.” He snorts, a hint of amusement in his voice, curving his fingers inside you to stroke at a particularly sensitive area inside of you. “Having a hard time even taking just these two fingers, and my cock is so much bigger.” He teases, free hand going down to wrap around his cock, stroking it slowly before squeezing it at the base, your eyes glued to the scene with hunger.

“Ach, now you’re just underestimating them.” Johnny says, letting you feel the smile on his face as he presses his lips to your neck, darting his tongue out to lick the sweat dripping down your jugular. “Sweet thing like this, they’ll take it just fine. Just need a little extra work to open em up.” He says, trailing a hand over your belly and down between your legs, slipping in one of his fingers right between Simon’s, gripping your hip tighter when you try to arch them up, your head dropping back to rest on his shoulder. “I know, Love. It’s a lot to take, but you’ll take it. You’ll take all of us and beg for more. I promise.”

Horangi & König

“Shit, you’re tight.” König huffed above you, teeth bared in a snake that would be terrifying in any other situation, just like the hand he had clasped around your neck, feeling his co-worker’s cock plow into your gullet, a wet “shlick”ing sound echoing from not just between your legs but from your mouth as well, he’d love to see the tears he know are escaping your eyes, but frustratingly was unable to with how far back your head was tilted. You were probably getting light headed, he hoped you wouldn’t pass out again. “How’s their mouth feel?”

“Like Heaven.” Horangi grunted, eyes hazy with lust, leaned forward with his forehead resting against König’s shoulder, sharp teeth nipping at his flesh, narrowly avoiding drawing blood. “Wet, tight, h-heaven.” He stutters, grabbing at König’s hip, digging blunt nails into him to try and avoid cumming just from the way your throat pulsed around him.

“Yeah?” König cooed, rubbing his thumb over the vague outline of Horangi’s cock, searching for the sensitive head while he used his other hand to play with your pebbled nipples, occasionally pinching and pulling at them harshly just to make you squeal, the sounds vibrating up Horangi’s cock and making his eyes roll back, his hips jerking harder and faster, chasing his fast approaching orgasm.

“Fuck, that’s it. That’s it. So good.” Hong-Jin groaned, tilting his head back when König started to mouth at his pale neck in return, sucking and biting til a dark bruise was sure to be left, settling his hands on your sides, drifting them down to your thighs and kneading at your flesh. “Make ‘em cum, prince. Want to feel how tight they’ll squeeze me when they’re overridden with pleasure.”

Alejandro & Rudy

“Slower.” Alejandro purred beside you, swirling a glass of mezcal before tipping it back to take a gulp, his eyes burning through you the whole time as you struggled to keep an even pace on Rudy’s lap, thighs slick with sweat and shaking from exertion. The new pace somehow even more torturous than before, even with your lover’s hands firmly on your hips and his lips trailing along your jaw.

“Good. Doing so good, Tesoro.” Rudy mumbled against your skin, his breathing heavy before his tongue darts out to lick a thick line across your throat, thumbs digging into your hips lines. “I know it’s hard but you’re doing great, just keep listening to Alejandro.”

You nod more out of instinct than actual understanding, lust inebriating you more than any alcohol, leaving you sticky and pliant between the two of them, a little puppet with your strings wrapped around their fingers.

“Bite them.” Was Alejandro’s next order, less than half a second before Rudy dug his teeth into your shoulder, making you let out a long whine that you tried to muffle by burying your mouth into Rudy’s hair, only to be met by a loud ‘tch’ and Alejandro’s stern voice snapping at you. “No no no, stop that.” He said, clicking his fingers to get your attention. “You don’t get to muffle those pretty noises of yours. I want to hear them loud and clear, Angel. Try to do that again and I’ll have to find another way to preoccupy that mouth of yours.”

#cod #call of duty #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #John price #john price x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #Kim Horangi hong-jin #Kim Horangi hong-jin x reader #König #könig x reader #Alejandro Vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #rudy parra #rudy parra x reader

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gh0stsp1d3r · 3 months

Note

idk if you’re familiar with teen wolf but could i request a fic with loser!Luke who’s similar to Stiles stilinski and aphrodite!reader is similar to lydia. No one sees that reader is more than a pretty cabin 10 girl and idk i think it would be cute if luke recreates the “hi y/n, you look…like you’re gonna ignore me” ugh loser!luke just gives me too much in my feelings

𝒫ℴ𝓅𝓊𝓁𝒶𝓇

I LOVE LOSER LUKE AND TEEN WOLF AHHH

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Has she even looked your way?” Chris asked, listening to his brother's fantasies. The two walked through the woods, bags slung over their shoulders.

“A few times. She talks to me when we spar.” He shrugged, “and when we check cabins together.”

“Mmm… right, and in those few times she’s become interested in you? You have to make some sort of effort.”

“Why wouldn’t she be?” He joked; Chris chuckled.

“Because she’s Aphrodite’s favorite, she’s the most popular girl at camp, almost every guy wants to be with her, and every girl admires her. She beats you in sword fighting from time to time and she’s a God at archery.”

“I still gotta chance. And she does not beat me in sword fighting.” He shrugged, a small smile on his face.

“Mhm..”

He nudged Chris and asked him, “what about you? You got your eyes on anyone?”

“Nah.” He shook his head.

The two continued chatting and walking, when Luke saw someone coming up quickly in the corner of his eye.

Chris nudged him this time, raising his eyebrows.

“Hey y/n, you look…” Luke began to say, but you just walked past him, not acknowledging him.

“Like you’re gonna ignore me.” He mumbled to himself, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment as Chris laughed at him.

“Shut up.” He groaned, rolling his eyes at Chris.

And it was just his luck that you were heading to the same spot as him.

The ocean was a common spot for campers to get away and escape. It was a long walk there but it was worth it, it was beautiful and it was quiet.

But today was Sunday, most kids would be having fun with their friends and taking this day off. You were heading there to practice.

Soon, they had reached it and they saw you already there, ready with your bow in hand. There was a few targets on the trees. They watched you, looking like dears in headlights when you turned to look at them.

“Can I help you..?” You asked them, slightly annoyed.

“No. No. Sorry.” Chris said, grabbing Luke’s arm and dragging him as far as possible and onto the sand.

“She’s so…” he mumbled to himself, as he took off his shirt and turned back to face you. He took off his jeans, his shorts underneath.

You furrowed an eyebrow as you saw him, he messed up your shot as you turned to look at him. Jesus, he was ripped. You thought.

“You have it bad, you know that? She’s not even using charmspeak.” Chris replied. “Turn back around, you look creepy.”

Luke obliged, turning to look at Chris now as he took off his own shirt and jeans, his swimming shorts underneath.

The two raced to the water, jumping in. Luke had won, the two laughing.

You focused on your shooting, however. Trying your best to ignore the pair. They swam around, racing each other while talking loudly. They then sat down on the sand, shaking their heads and wet curls.

You sat down against a tree, downing your water. Chris began talking but Luke wasn't listening. He watched you, and Chris smirked at him.

"Go talk to her."

"What?" he asked, as if it was the craziest thing he's ever heard.

"Go talk to her, man."

"About what?"

"Just talk to her." he shrugged, softly pushing Luke.

"Alright, alright." He said, standing up. and slowly walking towards you. You glanced at him, and he gave you a small smile and sat next to you. You took in a deep breath.

"Hi." He said.

"Hi..."

Now that you were looking at him more closely, he wasn't bad looking, not at all.

"It's uh, y/n, right?"

You nodded. But you knew that he already knew that. "Its Luke, isn't it?"

Holy shit you knew his name. He was trying to contain a smile, his heart raced. He nodded slowly, and you laughed quietly as you noticed him staring at you.

"Well? Did you need something or just my name, gorgeous?"

He swallowed the lump in his throat, and his eyes went wide. Oh my God, you called him gorgeous. He didn't know what to say. You smiled and tilted your head at him, waiting on a response.

"No, sorry." He cleared his throat. "Just... Yeah, I'm gonna go, it was nice talking to you." He said, standing up, and almost tripping as he ran back to Chris.

What an interesting boy, you thought to yourself as you stared at him, and when he turned back you gave him a small smile, a pink tint on his face.

#luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #pjo series #charlie bushnell x reader

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kjdkive · 3 months

Text

it's a date — mark lee.

"i know! but i think frank ocean is gonna have an amazing musical comeback." mark tells you very excited as you are scooping ice cream for this charity event you volunteered to work at.

mark is not someone you would call a friend, he's a friend of your friend and you also like him a lot but in secret. you're not trying to date johnny's friend or maybe you are. you can swear there's this tension between you but not one of you dares to make a move.

"honestly, don't you think people are hyping it too much that it may disappoint turning everyone into a hater?" you ask him.

"they could never make me hate my father frank. dude, it's like sza, how many years did she leave us to dry and when she came back it was an amazing album?"

"yeah, i guess you're ri-" you don't finish the sentence "shit."

"what?"

"the guy that has been bothering me for a while is here and i think he's coming our way." you turn your back to the counter and face mark awkwardly.

it's a funny story of how this guy started to bother you, asking you out every single time, one would dare to call him a fan but you don't want anything to do with him. not so funny anymore.

"hey, y/n! care to give me a vanilla ice cream?"

you quickly scoop the ice cream without greeting him back and hand it to him.

"aren't you gonna introduce me to your friend, y/n?" the weird guy asks.

"sup' man, i'm her boyfriend." he fully stares at him, the other guy with the ice cream getting uncomfortable.

you look at mark and then look at the guy whose name you don't remember, you try your best to not laugh and to also try to not feel a zoo in your stomach.

"oh, i-" the guy starts.

"what? you got a problem?" mark asks him, holding you by your waist and turning you to him, making you turn your back on the weird guy.

you place your palms on mark's chest and just turn around a little to see your basically stalker finally giving up on you.

"not a problem, man, just wondering. guess i'll go."

"yeah, that's better." mark says back.

you start giggling as soon as the other leaves, making mark look down at you and smile.

"i'm your girlfriend now?" you ask him.

"yeah, you're my dream come true." he's still caressing your waist and back.

"don't you think you have to ask me out for a drink first?"

"you don't like drinking, y/n." he smiles "i was thinking about taking you to that pizza place you're always recommending to everyone but me."

"are you finally asking me out on a date?" you smile too.

"i am." and he can't stop smiling and giggling "will you go out on a date with me?"

"i'd love to, mark."

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writingoddess1125 · 8 months

Text

Funny One Shot- Buggy Edition

Your Seat Awaits

Buggy x Femreader

Support me on Ko-Fi

N$FW Themes

You stare at your husband a cross between wanting to cry at how stupid this was and maybe throwing him in the ocean as a divorce was the best course of action.

"Buggy... My love what the hell is this-"

You asked gesturing to him, he was laid on the bed his hair down and makeup off, completely shirtless and with a seated pillow ring around his blue hair like a headband.

"Welll I have the evening and you have the evening- Sooo We got the evening to-"

"Yes I'm aware but I'm more confused with the pillow ring- that's for sitti.. you want me to sit on your face don't you-" You deadpanned, the puzzle clicking in your head and see Buggy grin.

"Come on (Y/N)! It will be fun!" You rub your temples, curious to your past self why you said yes at times.

"Well I guess if I'm ge-"

"No no no! I don't want that hovering bull shit!" He shouted quickly, pointing at you with false anger.

"What if I suffocate you!?" You protest in shock, wondering why this man was so keen on a potential death sentence!

"It's a honorable death! Besides it won't be the first time I've almost drowned! This time I'm just bound to like it!" You threw a pillow at him at hearing this. Red in the face as he smiled brightly.

"This is absolutely ridiculous! I-I don't want to hurt you!"

"You won't! I won't die by puss! And if I do I will be praised as a hero among pirates!" He expressed, you this time hitting him in the face with a pillow which made him laugh loudly and hold your arm.

"Don't say that! I'd never want anyone to know you died that way" He shakes his head at this, take disappointed tsk leaving him as if you were naive.

"You better tell people cause they should know why I died with a smile on my face!" You places your free hand on your hip and raised a brow at his words, Rolling your eyes as well.

"This is so dumb- I can't actually do this seriously-"

"Hey! You agreed that if we did that floofy resort I could get a favor in return!" He brought up defensively. He was using his free pass?- a few months ago you begged to go to this romantic couples spa resort and he agreed. However you never did admit that you didn't enjoy it as much as you thought you would since it was a hot pink Valentines day themed corn fest- But Buggy did it all without complaints.

"Fine Fine! I did agree"

Buggy laid back down excitedly, Grinning from ear to ear, You blushed deeply and slid off your pants and underwear tossing them to the side. His hands detaching from him and going to your hips, carefully lifting you to be seated on his chest. You couldn't help but blush at this as you sat there.

"My face is clean of makeup, so your throne is ready my Love~"

You stared at Buggy as you sat on his chest, Sighing heavily at him as you grabbed the headboard of the bed and moved forward to his destined spot.

"I hope you suffocate-"

Buggy laughed loudly at this as he pumped his fist in joy and victory.

"As do I!! Hahahah-Mmph!~"

#x reader #one peice x reader #buggy the clown x reader #one peice live action #one piece #buggy one piece #buggy x reader

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touyasdoll · 1 year

Text

Like You

pairing: dad!Dabi/Touya Todoroki x fem!reader

word count: 0.6k

warnings: you have a son together, reader referred to as mommy, Touya has feelings

notes: just a sappy little idea I had. I live for this man as a father <3 best dad, hands down. and as always, he deserves the world.

You and Touya are enjoying a peaceful afternoon on the couch, cuddled up together while watching some tv in silence for once. Your little boy is being so good right now, just quietly coloring by himself in the other room.

But then it gets a little bit too quiet, so you get up to investigate, just to make sure that he isn’t getting into anything he shouldn’t be. Lo and behold, your suspicions were correct. You find him absolutely covered in purple marker.

It’s everywhere. His arms, his neck, his face. All on his cheeks and just beneath his oceanic eyes. He’d even taken his shirt off to color in part of his chest.

“What—,” you blink, laughing and shaking your head as you walk closer to him. “Honey, what are you doing?”

You reach out to take the marker from him, but he grips it tighter and takes a step back.

“No, I’m not done yet!” He pouts, looking down at his belly to put the purple ink to his skin again.

“Not done with what? I think you’ve done enough, sweetheart. C’mere, lemme see that, please,” you say as you hold out your hand.

Touya’s sitting on the couch waiting for you to return, though his parental senses are tingling. He’s about to get up and come to check on the both of you when he hears your laughter.

“Hey, what’s so funny in there?” He calls playfully as he gets up anyway to wander down the hall, curious as to what’s going on.

He leans against the entrance to the playroom and his eyes pop open wide when he sees the mess that’s made it’s way all over your son and his tiny little activity table.

“Tell Daddy what you’re doing, baby,” you instruct the small boy with a fond smile on your lips.

“I wanted to look cool like you!” He proclaims, the most pure smile propping up his chubby cheeks.

Touya’s heart clenches in his chest so tight that he actually clutches it, wearing the same expression you’d had on just moments ago, positively endeared by your son’s ingenious idea.

He’s always thought that he looks disgusting, even with the countless amount of times you’ve insisted otherwise. It isn’t until this moment that he starts to believe that maybe you’re not entirely wrong after all, but he’s mostly just relieved that his own child doesn’t find him repulsive and touched that he actually wants to emulate him. It’s the only time in his life he’s actually felt more like a hero than a villain.

“I’m missing the shiny parts though,” your son announces, wearing a pout that’s identical to his fathers, though Touya would deny that he’s ever pouted in his life.

“Well, I think we have some staples,” Touya says casually as he looks over his shoulder.

“Absolutely not.” You shake your head, laughing. “This is good enough. You did such a good job, baby.”

“Aw, c’mon, we can use that shit that you use to put your eyelashes on or whatever. That’s safe, right?” Touya jokes as he strolls further into the room.

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the amused smile on your lips.

“Language. And no staples. Maybe we can find some tinsel or something though,” you concede. “And some body safe paint.”

“See, that’s why it’s a good thing we have Mommy,” Touya says as he moves to sit on the floor, ruffling the tot’s white hair. “You did do a great job, buddy. C’mere.”

He extends his long arms and pulls the tike into a hug, just in time to spare him from seeing the single crimson tear slipping from his seam, though you catch it. You reach out to gently swipe it away with your thumb before you join in on their embrace, pressing a kiss to your husband’s face and then your son’s.

#dabi x reader #dad!dabi #dad!touya #touya x reader #todoroki touya x reader #dabi fluff #touya fluff #tw kids #bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi imagine #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you

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