#//Please note that interacting with his rut means that you're placed in one of his ship verses!

[alastors-radioshow]

The heat was increasing with each, passing day. It was getting disruptive. He felt as if his body was burning up from the inside out. His skin felt as fire, his breath scorching.

It was starting to hurt. His skin was so sensitive that the clothes on his back was starting to be a bother.

He knew what he needed. He knew what he should do.

Ah, but it was never an easy task for him.

Slowly, he'd reach up to unhook his bowtie, exhaling a shaky breath.

"Merde.."

[carolmunson]

I genuinely hope you find your writing motivation again soon and find a way to make it exciting. I definitely don't think you should continue to write fics you're not interested in, that aren't serving you positively as Jo said or you are feeling forced to write despite not being in the mood. So please don't get me wrong when I say the next part. But as someone that does not get many views on their fics and certainly does not get any comments or asks and has no one waiting on the updates I continue to provide anyways, it's a little hard to sympathize with the notion that it feels "pointless" to write when you have people excited for and asking to read your work. I do understand what you're saying. But I guess I feel the need to kind of point out that it could be so much worse. There is nothing quite like the loneliness and isolation that comes from the pointless/worthless/useless feeling of putting your work out there continuously and having no one care. I know you were probably just making that post to let people know your state of mind and why there hasn't been any updates. But I guess what I'm saying is, in the kindest way I possibly can because I don't want to hurt or offend you because I love your blog and your work, please don't take your readers for granted or make them feel as though they are being annoying by asking how your writing is going because not only will they move on one day but the fandom as a whole will dry up much more than it already has and trust me, you will be kicking yourself for not just finishing the current stories when you had people excited for them. I would kill for even a fraction of the interaction you get and I know that makes me sound petty and jealous but I promise I'm just here to try and be a gentle reminder to be grateful that you have excited readers. ❤ I hope you find the motivation to write again and I don't intend for this ask to guilt you in any way into writing. Just another perspective from someone that would take your place in a heartbeat.

Hi. I wanted to start by saying that I'm incredibly grateful to have readers who are excited about what I write and interact with me and my stories. However, engagement and notes is not the basis to why I write things. I just like writing and telling stories as a hobby. Even if it was just five people reading; if it touched them or made them really feel something -- that would be enough. People who reach out and tell me that someting really resonated, even if it's on a not very popular fic, fills me so much. I'm not even the most popular writer on this app -- a lot of fics being produced now are much higher in notes than even my most popular fic that I posted over a year ago. Do I get a little bummed sometimes if a fic doesn't do amazing? Sure! But I don't let it deter me from continuing on. A lot of the fics I'm most proud of have the least amount of engagement. My frustration comes from feeling like there is nothing else I should focus on and that writing other stories feels 'pointless' because I feel guilty not focusing on the stories that some people are asking for. I don't want to let people down by not giving updates. It has really messed with me creatively. I'm not complaining about people asking for updates or wanting more of a story -- there are so many fics that I'm on the edge of my seat for too! I'm complaining that I feel like I'm letting people down over not updating quickly enough. I'm sorry about your frustration with your work not being seen by as many people as you have been hoping for, but I hope you keep writing. I hope that it is still fulfilling to you no matter how many notes you get. I hope it remains fun and exciting. I'm not asking for people to sympathize with me or feel bad for me, I'm just in a writers rut and there isn't much more to it than that. I'm sure other writers in the fandom can understand, too! Ruts happen. I will say, that as much as you didn't want this to come off as guilting me into writing or mean; it did read backhanded to me and was a little hurtful. I hope you can see now that a lot of my issue comes with genuinely wanting to finish these stories but not having the creative drive/connection or in some cases, the emotional capacity (mainly for Baby, As If because it's a hard story to write) to focus on them all the time. I wish I could just take the story out of my head and put it on the page, but it doesn't always work that way. Either way, I'm sorry that my previous post came off as whiny or complaining. I think I just wanted to put it out there so that people knew where I was at in terms of writing or what might be coming up. I'm doing my best, I'm doing what I can. I am a person behind this blog; and I hope to get something out to you guys soon.

[gingersnaaps]

ctrl + shift + n

you should always remember to close your tabs - especially your tabs of tumblr smut, and especially around miya atsumu.

wc: 1.6k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): explicit n*fw, noncon, fingering, panty gag, finger sucking, condescension, super meta, fem!reader with internal genitals, college!au

a/n: i feel like this has been done before but i’ve had this concept on my mind for a while

i don’t want minors interacting with my content

Miya Atsumu. Star volleyball player at your college. Undeniably talented. Riddled with scholarship offers and professional opportunities. Infuriatingly attractive.

Also: a terrible group project member.

“Just lemme have a look,” he whines, grabbing at your laptop. “It’ll only take a few seconds. Promise.”

It’s a heroic task, ignoring him. It almost takes as much brainpower as doing his portion of the project for him.

Your eye begins to twitch as his perfectly-filed fingernails intrude at the edge of your screen, obscuring part of the slide you’d been working on. Technically, he should have been the one doing them, but as much of a genius as he may be at volleyball(this fact was grudgingly admitted after you’d watched him play once), he was utterly useless when it came to anatomy and physiology.

And you really, really, needed to end the semester without failing.

The cool metal of the laptop slips out of your grasp, and you roll your eyes so hard that you think they might get stuck in your head.

“Just wanted to see what you’d been workin’ on,” Atsumu says sheepishly. He’s sitting at the opposite end of your couch, legs kicked up and crossed on the coffee table, and the bright screen disappears from view as he begins clicking through the slideshow. “Not bad,” he muses. He presses a few more keys.

His face suddenly changes, a brow quirking as his eyes darken.

“What?” you snap. “Should’ve done it yourself earlier if there’s something you don’t like.”

He jumps slightly, startled by your harsh reaction. “No,” he says quickly. Too quickly. “It’s good. I like it.”

One more thing to note about Miya Atsumu, you thought to yourself: he was probably terrible at poker.

He returns the laptop to you, as promised, and hums idly as you resume working. The two of you sit in silence, but it’s not exactly comfortable - after the awkward exchange, there’s a layer of tension that hangs thick and heavy in the air. The air conditioning drones on in the background, like white noise meant to soothe, but it worms its way into your conscious mind and sits there, just noticeable enough to be irritating. Aside from that, it’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Of course, he’s the one to break the silence.

“Didn’t know you were into that kinda’ stuff.”

You freeze.

“Didn’t think that a girl like you would ever be lookin’ at something so messed up.”

Panic clenches at your stomach, and you reply carefully, voice measured and cold. “What are you talking about?”

“Should really be more careful about which tabs you leave open,” he chuckles.

You scan the cluttered row of tabs at the top; there’s nothing missing. Your eyes dart around the screen frantically -

There’s an incognito window open along your taskbar.

“Rough sex, violent sex, rape? Jesus christ, sweetheart.”

You click nervously, and on the screen, clear as day, is the fic you’d been reading earlier that morning. It’s one of the blogs you frequent - normally one of your favorite places to scroll through after a nasty day - but right now, it seems almost sinister, black font on a white background staring back accusingly as your skin prickles under his gaze. You swallow; a heavy, sinking feeling squeezes at your chest, closes up your throat, makes you feel like you’re dry drowning.

He grabs the laptop back. He’s sitting a lot closer now.

“I mean, just look at this shit. You really want this, huh?”

“No, I- I don’t.” Your voice sounds foreign, far away - you feel like you’re underwater, and your denial sounds guilty even to your own ears.

His lips graze your ear, the warmth of his body spreading to yours as he slides an arm around waist.

“If you wanted to be raped, angel,” he whispers, a terrifying grin stretched wide across his face. “All you had to do was ask.”

He laughs at his clever little joke, and pulls you onto his lap.

You feel numb, paralyzed, unable to fight back or move at all as his hands glide along your inner thighs, kneading the soft, puffy, flesh, spreading them apart until you’re straddling his lap. He pulls your hair to one side and starts kissing along your jaw, rough and sloppy, sharp teeth nipping at the underside of your jaw as you shiver.

He punctuates his words with a harsh squeeze to your thigh, thumb brushing dangerously close to your cunt. “I bet you were getting off t’ this, weren’t you?” he hisses. “Bet you were just dripping down your thighs, squirmin’ around ‘n moaning, fantasizing about some scary man who just takes what he wants.”

The dull, pained, look in your eyes reads like defeat to him, sending a thrill of pleasure through his veins. He’s right, isn’t he? He’s fuckn’ spot on about your little habits, your little fantasies, and he’s gonna make sure that all your dreams come true.

“Let’s do this exactly how it’s written out, how’s that sound? Follow along with your cute story ‘nd everything,” he muses, scrolling down the page. “Starts out with her - you - getting fingerfucked.”

It’s as if those words break some sort of dam inside you, a flurry of tears and sobs heaving out of your chest as his fingers trail up to your clothed clit. You squirm back and forth in his lap, ass rutting against his hardening cock. “Don’t want it,” you whimper. “Don’t make me. Please.”

“Playin’ along, angel? That’s cute.”

He peels your skirt off of you, thumbs hooking around the waistband of your panties as he pulls them off and stuffs them in your mouth. You can taste yourself on the damp fabric that clings to the roof of your mouth, spit soaking through as your whines and protests become muffled.

Fingers spread your pussy apart, sliding and squelching embarrassingly in the slick, your skin cold and exposed in the open air. As he rests his thumb lightly on your clit, he quirks his lips at the way your heartbeat thrums in your cunt, your pussy twitching as you clench around nothing.

Best part is that you like this, that you're turned on by this, he thinks. The fat, silvery, tears streaming down your face mean absolutely nothing when you’re so obviously into it.

He thrusts a long, thick, finger in, all the way to the last knuckle, the calloused pad of his fingertip brushing up against your spongy walls as your pussy contracts and squeezes him tight. “So eager,” he coos. “It’s jus’ like you always imagined, huh?”

You sniffle as the outline of his cock presses into your ass, rutting his hips against you and moaning from the delicious friction of the fabric. There’s nowhere for you to go, one large hand squeezing your waist and holding you down, the other fucking you backwards into his broad chest.

He crooks his finger; you sob, body drawn taught with pleasure, and he pushes another inside as you spasm. He’s good with his hands, unfairly good, his thumb nudging against your sweet clit in circles as his fingers scissor your walls and stretch you out so good. It’s as if you’re his little puppet, jerking around whenever he drags his fingers roughly against your g-spot, crying out through your stuffed mouth as blunt teeth sink into your neck and his tongue runs along the ridge of your ear.

“You’re makin’ a mess, pretty girl,” he murmurs, watching in delight as you flush with shame. “Dripping into my palm and all down your thighs, just like the girl in the story.”

You turn your head, trying to look away, but he grabs at the hinge of your jaw and forces you to meet his gaze. It’s taunting, cruel - he looks so pleased with himself as he fingers you until your thighs start trembling, walls clenching erratically as pleasure builds and builds.

His grip on your face turns tight, pressing bruises into your skin as you cream and gush around his thick digits. The orgasm crashes down on you in waves of pleasure, his fingers fucking you through it with constant probing and circling and stimulation.

His nimble fingers pluck the panties from your mouth, soaked with drool, and tosses them aside onto the floor. “Open up,” he says, prying at your mouth.

Your jaw goes slack, falling open, too tired to put up a fight as he shoves his fingers in. You’re not sure there’s much of a point. You suck sloppily, tongue laving around his digits, cleaning your cum off of him as he shoves his hand in deeper, making you gag and retch, and he moans loudly at the sight. You look so perfect - his precious little angel choking on his fingers, eyes watering and body trembling as you do everything he makes you.

You’re shivering when he withdraws his fingers with a pop.

He helps you put your clothes back on, wet panties sliding across your skin and leaving trails of shining slick. It sticks and clings to your pussy, makes you feel all filthy and used, and bile rises in your throat. Goosebumps ripple down your thigh at the sensation of cool air.

Atsumu nuzzles at your neck, fingers patting at your spent pussy, his tenderness almost mocking, and clicks back to the slideshow you’d been working on.

“Let’s save the cock for after you get us the A, hmm?”

[myjjbaby]

Can I get a jj imagine where you've been dating for a while (you're a pogue and been one forever) and you make a bet with him to see who can go the longest without sex? Who would cave first bc i feel like even being as stubborn as he is JJ wouldn't be able to take it that long lol smut is 100% okay with me if you're comfortable btw😜 ~N

won’t last | the bet (part ii)

author’s note - hi alright this is a tad different than the request bc i thought itd be cute to have a different bet for part 2 of the bet bc people wanted that :))

synopsis - requested by anon! you make a bet with your boyfriend and JJ’s really bad at winning them

warnings - 2.6k of smut, filth, sex, whatever you want to call it :)) edging, oral (f!receiving), unprotected (wrap before you tap folks). also if you aren’t legal i highly suggest you don’t read this and enjoy some time outside like children should. 18+ folks!! also i am allowed to post this cause i am 19 so anons don’t even try :))

“Wait, so you’re trying to tell me that y’all made a bet about me and JJ?”

You were currently sitting between your boyfriend’s legs at the driver seat of the ‘HMS POGUE,’ which had become a common occurrence over the summer ever since Sarah introduced you to the crew. JJ’s hand would slip off of the wheel and knead at the skin of your waist, a playful smirk on his face as he looked out onto the marsh.

“Yeah, if JJ didn’t fall in love with you by the end of the summer, he’d get a new bike.”

“I don’t need a new bike anyway.”

You smiled at the blonde’s confession and leaned up to kiss the underside of his jaw. He shifted his head so he could look down at you fully before pressing his lips sloppily against your cheek.

“M’ sorry, bub,” he gave you a confused look, “about not getting a bike.”

“Don’t need one if I got you, baby.”

You rolled your eyes before slipping out of his arms and meandering to the bow of the old boat. JJ whining at the loss of contact, watching your figure bend over as you grabbed something out of his bag.

“So,” the blonde nearly jumped out of his skin when Sarah snuck up on him, “wanna do another bet?”

“What do you have in mind, Cameron?”

“We need Y/N for this one, gimme a sec.”

JJ watched as the older girl walked over to you, pulling his fresh blunt from your lips. He smiled as you approached him and once again wrapped you into his warm embrace. The blue-eyed boy smiling when he felt your lips pressed to his exposed shoulder. JJ chuckled at your squeal when he placed you on his lap, kissing your temple whispering sweet nothings.

You blushed like crazy once you noticed all of the Pogues standing around you, hiding further in JJ’s neck.

“You ready for this, Maybank?”

“Born ready.”

You raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at your boyfriend, questioning his antics which he just ignored and kissed your cheek again.

“I wanna see how long JJ can go without sex.”

“You mean like-”

“Any interaction, JJ.”

You giggled as he let out a groan into your neck.

“This is torture.”

“And,” Sarah smirked, “if you surpass a week, I’ll get you that bike.”

Smiling at the cute boy sitting beneath you, you slid off his lap and headed back towards the bow of the boat. JJ frowned as you stepped farther away from him, telling Pope to take the wheel, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to his bare tanned chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Mm,” you hummed into his warm chest, goosebumps shooting up his back, “don’t wanna tempt you.”

“You always do, baby.”

His arms wrapped around your neck as you found the small of his waist. Blocking out the sun with his biceps, you looked up at his soft features without having to squint, appreciating the little sun spots littered across his face.

“Gotta last a week, then you can have me and your new bike.”

“Jus’ want you, baby, only you.”

“Yeah, okay. Tell that to your bike magazines under the bed.”

“Shut up.”

You giggled at his reddened cheeks and went up onto your tiptoes, sweetly kissing his chin. You sent him one last smile that left him breathless and sat down next to Sarah, who was cheekily grinning at JJ’s fluster.

Seven days. Your boyfriend was sure he could last that long. Seven day, a week. That’s nothing, right?

He was three days in when everything fell apart. You were sitting on his lap while the Pogues were gathered on the porch of John B’s infamous chateau. JJ’s rough fingertips slipped under your shirt and started stroking up and down your sides. Feeling his needy movements, you were quick to catch his hands in your grip.

“Baby…”

“J, no.”

“I wanna feel you.”

“Four days left.”

You felt his soft waves of hair brush against your back as his head rested between your shoulder blades. He grumbles incoherently into the fabric of your top, hands slipping out of your own.

You thought he was going to behave until his warm palms pulled out of your shirt and resettled on your thighs. JJ’s thumb prodded at the fading marks on the inside of your left leg, the purple marks left by his lips days ago still sensitive as they healed. You halfheartedly grabbed his wrists a second time when you felt waves of pleasure shoot straight through your body.

“J.”

“Let me make you feel good.”

“Sure thing,” you felt him grin into your skin, “in four days.”

His smile slipped down into a pout, hands continuing their teasing movements against your skin. You bit at your lower lip as a soft whimper nearly escaped your throat.

“You’re such a tease, baby, have been all week.”

“It’s been three days, JJ.”

You felt his body shift against you as he planted wet kisses up your spine, nipping lightly at your flushed skin. You attempt to suppress the gasp on the tip of your tongue as he continued to travel around your exposed skin.

Your hands loosened from around his wrists, instead pulling at the loose curls at the base of his head. JJ let out a soft growl as you grounded your hips down onto his lap, his arms tightening around your waist to keep you still.

The blonde’s lips found your skin again, lapping at the tortured skin of your neck as you whimpered lightly. You had never been more grateful that the Pogues had dispersed, then at this moment with his flaming touch pulling moans from your body, his name sounding like a prayer from your lips.

“Fuck, JJ.”

He groaned into your skin as you pressed harder against him, both of you growing needier by the second. Everything about his movements made you eager and he knew just how lust driven he was making you feel.

“Y/N? Can you come help me with something?”

And just like that you pulled yourself out of his arms, his hands desperately gripping at your waist, trying to get some kind of relief

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

JJ groaned at your word choice making you giggle, you weren’t used to your boyfriend being so clingy.

“Come with me, J?”

“So funny, Y/N, really.”

“You did this to yourself.”

“M ‘sorry, I just want you.”

“Four days.”

Just like that you were strolling off the screen porch, fixing your shirt which had rolled up significantly by JJ’s hands. You left him a whimpering mess as he stared down at the tent in his swim shorts, twitching from the quick loss of friction. He felt like he could cry from being edged so well only to be stuck in a daze and really, really turned on.

It was two days later when he was pressed up against your backside, so hard it was starting to hurt.

“Babe?”

JJ groaned, hearing you feign an innocent tone when you both know you can feel his hard-on pressed against your butt. You smiled at the soft noises he makes as you pull away, grabbing his hand to pull him towards the hammocks closer to the shore. He follows you like an addict, absolutely fucked for you when you press a soft kiss to his cheek before pushing him to sit on the hammock.

“Baby, please.”

“It’s Thursday, two more days and I’m all yours.”

“Fuck, I need you so bad.”

“I know,” you smile at him, pressing your lips to his nose as you straddle him, “I know. Smoke with me? It’ll make you relax, yeah?”

JJ nodded as you placed the paper between his lips. You leaned over him, your bikini covered chest brushing against his reddened skin. Smiling as he grabbed one of your nipples through the fabric, you lit the spliff with the silver lighter engraved with ‘JJ’ and watched him inhale deeply. You admired how his cheekbones became more defined as he sucked in the smoke.

You watched as the harsh furrow in his brow settled as the drug rushed in and out of his body, pressing a kiss to the relaxed skin and noting the unfaltered bulge pressed against your ripped jean shorts. JJ ruts his hips up to meet your warmth, desperate to be touched and finally release the growing tension in his body.

Pulling away slightly, you take the lit joint between your finger and slip the object into your mouth. The blonde boy watched as your pretty lips wrapped around it like second nature and his mind wandered to you finally being wrapped around him. He moaned into your mouth when you kissed him softly, roughly sucking against your bottom lip as you blew the puff of smoke out of your lungs and into him.

“Fuck, that was really hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby, look so pretty.”

You flush under his heated gaze and rewarded his compliments with kisses across his skin. Your mind went blank as JJ slid his warm palms down the length of your body, squeezing your knees before brushing along the tops of your thighs and stopping at your belt loops.

“J.”

Your voice was breathy against his throat as he grinded against your core, turned on by your sultry tone. You forgot about your sister’s stupid bet as soon as JJ’s long fingers dipped into your shorts and started playing with your pantyline. His hands slip out making you whimper against him, his grip relocating to your hips.

“I know, baby,” his thigh came up between yours, flipping you over and making the hammock swing, “fuck, I didn’t think about that.”

You threw your head back giggling and JJ stopped to admire you for a moment before he was reminded of the pain shooting through him for being so turned on. His mouth finds your sweet spot below your jaw in no time, so familiar with the nooks and crannies of your skin. He sucked against the warm skin before continuing his assault down your body while his hands played with the strings of your bikini.

You desperately try to hold back your noises, knowing the Pogues would hear you, even if you knew JJ wouldn’t mind losing the bet if he was busy focusing on you. You feel his familiar smirk against your collarbone as your top slips from your chest, his hands sliding to the underside of your breasts as he encircles your nipple in his mouth. He leaves matching bruises to the ones on your neck and the faded ones lining your thighs, your body feels like it’s on fire like the blunt between your fingers.

“JJ.”

Your boyfriend hums against your bare waist, sending shocks of pleasure straight between your legs.

“Your new bike, JJ.”

You remind him why he should stop, begging in your mind that he’ll keep his lips close to you.

“Don’t need it.”

“J.”

“Baby, I don’t care.”

And like that, he slips your shorts and bikini bottoms off in one pull, his lips following behind and trailing kisses down your legs. You stamp out the spliff quickly, roughly gripping his blonde waves instead. JJ groans as you buck your body up to get closer to his hot breath that’s breathing over you. You nearly cry out as you feel him lick directly on your bundle of nerves, lips pressed against your mounds as he suckles on your clit.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

He smiles watching you clamp around nothing when he pulls back, he starts to tongue at your weeping entrance, smiling as a wave of your sweetness slips out onto his chin with your first orgasm leaving you gasping for air.

“So wet, pretty girl.”

“God, J.”

You grip at his curls as he pushes you again until you can barely take anymore against your sensitive bud. JJ growls against your pink skin when you tug at his hair, pulling you up to meet his lips in a scorching kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue and feel the wetness on his chin, his thumbs circling movement nearly making you cum.

“J.”

“What baby? Tell me what you want.”

“Need you.”

He pushes two fingers into you hard and you bite his lips to hold back your scream of pleasure.

“Need me how, baby? Gotta tell me.”

“I need your cock, J, need you to fuck me.”

“Good girl.”

JJ’s swim trunks drop to the ground as soon as he kicks them off, the hammock swaying as you grip his shoulders, praying you wouldn’t fall off. Once the hammock settles, you let your legs fall open, feeling the blue-eyed boy’s hands against the underside of your thighs. You wrap your legs around him and feel him shuffle above you. You gasp when he presses against you, he’s so incredibly hard and you can feel his precum dribble from his swollen tip.

“JJ, please.”

“Patient, sweet girl.”

You both let out loud moans as he pushes himself into you, seeing stars when he fills you to the brim. You grip his soft locks, bated breathing escaping your lungs when he slowly pulls out only to ram back into you. JJ buried his face into the sweat covered skin of your neck when he felt his high coming on. It didn’t shock you as his hips jerked desperately against your body, especially after he’s been on edge for days.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.”

“M ‘so close, J.”

“Okay, okay.”

He rams harder into your dripping center, your heart pounding in your chest as your overstimulated core was pushed closer to cumming a second time. You wrapped your legs around his waist, whimpering as he reached deeper into you until you cried out with your orgasm, JJ following behind you.

“J.”

“I got you, you’re okay.”

“Fuck.”

He kisses your skin as you come down for your staggering high, eyebrows pulled together and your eyes remaining tightly shut. JJ’s body goes limp against yours, tired out from such a strong orgasm. His hand leaves your body to reach under the hammock to grab the blanket stored there. The two of you lay, naked, in each other's arms as the sea breeze rustles over you and your slight haze fades away. Your boyfriend mumbles loving words as you slip into a quiet sleep.

“So, no bike for you?”

Is the first thing you hear as the sun shines onto your closed eyelids, JJ’s warm, bare body still pressed sweetly to yours. You glance over to see the Pogues smirking at you and the blonde wrapped around you.

“Fuck off, Cameron.”