#[vibrates intensely] the lads.

[sabuleum]

@dcviated / wylan said:

"The downside of kicking the door down is... welp, you can't exactly lock it behind you! So much for privacy."

...they're reminded, however briefly, of some similarly chiding words from their wife (cushioned in barely-stifled laughter); the catalyst which ultimately resulted in there being no real doors to speak of in the Adherent's home. today: she grumbles.

❝ the only downside is that our pal wasn't behind the door when it came down... if privacy was so important to them, maybe they shouldn't have fucked around and started trying to summon some company. ❞ —especially when those guests were as unruly as the creatures recently ransacking the nearby town. at least there was no sight of the ugly little skirges inside the meager residence, either; however satisfying they might be to crush, the pair 'd had their fill in days prior.

❝ ...caught wind we were coming, I guess. hmph. ❞ Emké sighed; resigning to the fact that they'd have to play detective a little longer. ❝ but it doesn't seem like they took much with them. come on, let's kick around and see if we can find something useful. ❞

[buckiverse]

☆--- warnings: mdni, period sex, oral sex, xavier being such a freak (need him desperately)

Xavier is definitely the freakiest out of all the lads boys. I need you to hear me out… okay.

It had been a rough day, you’d been in quite some pain from your period, each movement only seemed to make it worse. You'd read online that sex might help with cramps, but you'd always brushed it off as something that probably wouldn’t work for you. Yet, as the discomfort refused to ease, the thought kept coming back. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth a try.

Xavier, as always, was right by your side, always kind and patient. He'd been bringing you heating pads, your favorite foods, and cuddling you just the way you liked. He was always so in tune with your needs, always there without you even having to ask. You knew he’d do anything to make you feel better.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked, his voice tender and full of concern, eyes soft as he watched you. He had that way of looking at you like you were the most important thing in the universe to him.

You hesitated, but answered him honestly, revealing the thoughts you’ve been having. “I read somewhere that, um, sex might help with cramps… Would you maybe want to try that?”

Xavier's eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his face. But you saw something else too—something deeper, like he’d been waiting for this moment, hoping for it, yet never daring to ask. A slow, gentle smile spread across his lips.

“If that’s what you want,” he said softly, the warmth in his voice unwavering, “then I’d be more than happy to help.”

He sat next to you on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours, his touch gentle when he reached up to cup your face. His thumb traced the line of your cheek as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. It was sweet, unhurried. 

You felt your skin flush from his touch as his hands slowly moved to your thighs, drawing small circles on your soft skin. You shuddered under his touch, everything felt more intense, so much more sensitive.  When he finally reached your panties, you closed your eyes, anticipating his touch. 

He helped you lie back, placing a towel under you. But to your surprise, he didn’t rush. He wanted to ease your pain, to cherish you—savor the moment.  

Slowly, almost reverently, he lowered himself, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of you. His hands were gentle but firm as he spread your thighs, his breath warm against your skin. And then, when his mouth met your clit, you gasped—heat ran through you at once. 

“Xav—Xavier, you don’t h-have to,” you stammered, your voice trembling with pleasure and emotion, your cheeks flushing even deeper. But he only hummed in response, the vibration sending a wave of warmth through you. His mouth moved with a deliberate rhythm, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles drawing out every whimper, every gasp from your lips. 

[libingan]

— how the TF141 suck COCK!

JOHN PRICE

price starts by gripping your cock with a firm, authoritative hand, applying steady, controlled pressure. his mouth envelops your cock tightly, alternating between slow, deep sucks and fast, aggressive movements.

looooves maintaining intense eye contact, his gaze unwavering and filled with desire as he watches your reactions. he uses his tongue to tease the head and underside, applying varied pressure to keep you on edge.

his hands keep your thighs apart, holding you in place and ensuring you stay exposed. you just look so handsome spread out for him :(((

“so fuckin’ perfect, love,” he’d murmur, sloppily slurping up your sensitive cock, “taste so good too…”

his free hand LOVES to play with your balls, squeezing and caressing them to amplify the pleasure. he might adjust your position, pulling on your thighs or pushing you closer, ensuring you’re completely under his control.

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

gaz combines a firm, eager grip with skilled movements, using a mix of slow, deliberate strokes and rapid, hungry pumps. he’ll lean down and suck lightly on your sensitive tip, digging his tongue into the slit to lap up your precome.

he frequently incorporates his fingers into the experience, gently fingering your hole while his mouth works on your cock. he’ll curl his fingers just right, pressing into prostate with each movement.

gaz talks you through it all. his top one priority is your pleasure, so he makes it a point to always ask if you’re enjoying yourself (you are). whispers words of praise and encouragement the whole time! he loves making you feel loved!

“y’like that, sweetheart?” he’ll ask so sweetly, batting his eyelashes at you, “feels good, yeah? you’re so amazing, love,”

he loves experimenting with different pressures and touches, finding the perfect combination to drive you wild with pleasure.

JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

soap style is more energetic and varied, using a mix of fast, aggressive sucks and slow, teasing licks. be grips your cock firmly and alternates between deep, intense pressure and playful touches.

this man loves incorporating sex toys, such as cock rings and vibrators, to enhance the experience. he might use a cock ring to keep you hard and on edge, or use a vibrator to overstimulate you, pushing you to the brink.

he’s absolutely obsessed with overstimulation, always pushing you beyond your limits with relentless enthusiasm each time he’s in between your legs.

“c’mon, lad, ye can give me one more, aye?” he says with a rough, scottish brogue, his voice muffled around your cock. “gonnae make ye cum o’er and o’er again, love.”

he loves deep-throating you, taking you fully into his mouth and throat, applying a constricting pressure that makes you feel every bit of his dominance. his mouth works you intensely, pushing your cock to the back of his throat and holding it there, making you feel both overwhelmed and electrified.

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

simon is agonizingly slow, as he takes perverse pleasure in edging you. he uses a mix of torturously slow licks and barely-there sucks, teasing you to the brink of release. his mouth is relentless, but the pressure is always just enough to keep you on edge without letting you cum.

he loves applying varying pressures with his lips and tongue, sometimes giving you light, taunting touches and other times intensifying with rougher strokes.

simon is incredibly tuned into your reactions and will pull off immediately if he senses you’re about to climax, leaving you gasping and desperate. he enjoys watching your frustration and need, smirking at the way you squirm and whimper.

“you’re not cumming yet,” he growls harshly, his voice thick with lust. “not until i say so.”

he’ll lightly graze your cock with his teeth, teasing you with gentle nips and scraping motions that add a sharp, thrilling edge to the sensation. his hand also adds pressure, keeping you right on the edge with slow strokes and sudden stops, making the experience both excruciating and intensely pleasurable.

[seafarersdream]

Kiss, Marry, Kill? (Tom Glynn-Carney x Y/N)

It’s just a harmless game right? But who knows where it could lead to.

TW // Strong language and profanities.

The cast of House of the Dragon was in the midst of their whirlwind promotional tour, and today was no different—yet somehow, the stakes felt higher. Maybe it was the lights, the throng of people, or perhaps the sense of anticipation as they took their places on the plush, velvet couches. Tom Glynn-Carney slouched back, legs spread wide, his usual confident smirk playing on his lips as Ewan Mitchell settled beside him, more reserved but with an unmistakable twinkle in his eye.

The interviewer, a seasoned pro, knew how to work the room. She had them loosened up within minutes, firing off the usual questions about the upcoming second season. But then, with a mischievous glint, she leaned forward, practically rubbing her hands together in glee as she announced, “Alright, lads, let’s play a quick game of Kiss, Marry, Kill.”

Tom’s brows shot up, intrigued. He was game for anything. Ewan, seated to his right, nudged him with an elbow, a quiet laugh escaping his lips as the interviewer continued.

“I’m going to give you three names,” the interviewer said. “And you have to decide who you’d kiss, marry, or kill. Simple as that.”

Tom cocked his head, his smirk widening into a grin. “Go on then, hit us with it.”

The interviewer paused dramatically, milking the moment. “First up: Y/N L/N.”

Tom’s grin faltered for just a second, and then it came back, but this time there was a hint of something else in his eyes—something far less cocky and far more sincere. He could feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck. Y/N wasn’t just a name to him. She was a fucking icon, an absolute goddess on screen and off. He’d been following her career for years, from her stellar performance in Succession to her recent, jaw-dropping role alongside Cillian Murphy in Oppenheimer. And damn it if he didn’t have the biggest crush on her—a full-blown, no-holds-barred crush.

Ewan noticed the shift in Tom’s expression and snickered, leaning closer. “Oh, she’s got you good,” he muttered under his breath, loud enough for Tom to hear.

“Come on, mate, don’t be shy now,” the interviewer urged, eyes dancing with mirth.

Tom leaned back, pretending to mull it over, but he already knew his answer. He always did when it came to her. “Alright,” he drawled, dragging the word out, “Y/N L/N, you say?”

Ewan was practically vibrating with laughter beside him, and Tom shot him an exasperated look. “I’d kiss the hell out of her, that’s for damn sure,” he said, his voice low, almost reverent. “And, honestly, fuck the game—I’d marry her too. I mean, have you seen her? She’s fucking brilliant.”

The room erupted in laughter, the interviewer included, but Tom wasn’t done. “As for kill,” he continued, a wicked grin stretching across his face, “I’d kill anyone who tries to get in my way.”

Ewan clapped a hand to his chest, feigning injury. “I’m wounded, Tom, absolutely devastated,” he said, playing up the dramatics. “I’m not even in the running, and I feel like you’ve killed me already.”

Tom just shook his head, a playful snort escaping him. “Sorry, mate, but Y/N’s got me all tied up in knots. Can’t be helped.”

“Christ, you’re smitten,” Ewan teased, leaning back with a grin of his own. “She’s going to see this, you know. You’re basically handing her all the power.”

Tom’s eyes darkened slightly, the playful bravado giving way to something more intense. “Good,” he said, voice rougher now, more serious. “She deserves all the power. She’s earned it. And if she ever wants to cash in on it, I’m here. Hell, I’d be on my fucking knees if she asked.”

The room went silent for a beat, the weight of his words hanging in the air. It wasn’t just a schoolboy crush. It was full-on, can’t-get-her-out-of-his-head, utterly besotted admiration.

Ewan broke the silence with a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. “And here I thought this was just going to be a bit of fun. You’ve gone and made it deep, Tom.”

Tom shrugged, unapologetic. “Can’t help it. She’s fucking perfect.”

The interview wrapped up soon after, but the mood had shifted. Tom had bared more of himself than he intended, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. If Y/N ever saw this—and he hoped like hell she would—he’d own every word.

As they left the set, Ewan threw an arm around Tom’s shoulders, still laughing. “You’re in deep, mate. Good luck with that.”

Tom just grinned, eyes distant, already thinking about Y/N. “Yeah,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. “Good luck, indeed.”

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Le Grand Rex in Paris was ablaze with lights, the red carpet a river of scarlet against the darkened streets. The premiere of Oppenheimer had drawn a star-studded crowd, but even among the brightest, Y/N L/N stood out like a rare gem. Draped in a sleek, custom-made gown that hugged her curves in all the right places, she moved with the confidence of someone who knew exactly who she was and the power she held.

As she made her way up and down the carpet, cameras flashed, fans screamed her name. Y/N was in her element, all smiles and waves, pausing to sign autographs and take selfies with fans. The night had been a blur of interviews, compliments, and chatter, but there was still an infectious energy about her that refused to wane.

Then, as she paused to speak with yet another member of the press, a journalist—a wiry man with glasses perched on the edge of his nose—grinned conspiratorially. “Y/N, have you seen the clip of Tom Glynn-Carney from the House of the Dragon interview?”

She blinked, caught off guard. “Tom? No, I haven't had a chance to catch up on much lately. It’s been nonstop.”

The journalist’s grin widened, sensing an opportunity. “You really should. Someone in the crowd can show you. It’s—well, it’s something.”

Intrigued, Y/N glanced over at the crowd, where several fans were already excitedly pulling up the clip on their phones. She motioned for one of them to come closer, leaning in as the screen was thrust towards her. The surrounding crowd hushed, everyone eager to see her reaction.

As the clip played, Tom’s voice filled the air, his brash, unapologetic confession spilling out as he talked about her. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, then narrowed in amusement as Tom proclaimed his undying crush, his wish to kiss and marry her, and the sheer intensity of his words.

Her reaction was immediate and unfiltered—a laugh, rich and full of genuine delight, bubbled up from her throat. She wasn’t one to shy away from a little flirtation, especially when it was as earnest as Tom’s had been. As the clip ended, she looked up, her smile broadening into something that was part teasing, part genuinely flattered.

The crowd around her erupted into cheers, phones held high to capture every moment. Y/N wasn’t done, though. She knew exactly how to play this game, and she had no intention of letting Tom’s boldness go unchallenged.

She placed a hand on her hip, adopting a mock-serious expression as she addressed the cameras. “Glynn-Carney, if you’re watching this—and I hope you are—why don’t you go ahead and hit me up? Let’s see if you can live up to all that big talk.”

Her playful tone sent the crowd into a frenzy, laughter and cheers echoing down the carpet.

The journalist, sensing there was more to be mined from this moment, leaned in with a sly grin. “Y/N,” he began, “I have to ask—House of the Dragon is all about the Targaryen civil war, right? Team Black versus Team Green. Where do you stand?”

Y/N didn’t hesitate, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, I’m Team Black all the way,” she declared, her voice ringing with certainty. “Rhaenyra’s got that fire. I mean, who wouldn’t want to ride a dragon into battle and claim what’s rightfully yours?”

The crowd roared their approval. Y/N soaked it in, but she wasn’t done yet. She shot a playful, almost daring look at the camera, the one she knew would find its way to Tom eventually.

“But…” she continued, drawing out the word as she placed a finger thoughtfully against her lips, her expression turning wickedly amused. “Maybe Tom could do something to sway me to the Greens. I mean, he did say he’d marry me, right? That’s a pretty tempting offer.”

The crowd erupted once more, and Y/N couldn’t resist pushing it further. She leaned in, pretending to whisper into the camera but making sure everyone could hear.

“Here’s the thing, Tom,” she said, “I’m a tough sell. But you never know, I might just let you win me over. You’ve got your work cut out for you, though—dragons, crowns, and maybe a little more of that sweet-talking from you.”

She straightened up, giving the camera a wink and a dazzling smile. “But I’ll tell you what—if you can make me switch sides, I’ll wear green just for you.”

The crowd went wild, and Y/N laughed, clearly enjoying the chaos she’d just unleashed. She waved to the fans as she turned to continue down the red carpet. The internet was going to explode with this, she knew it.

As she moved on, continuing her walk down the red carpet, her mind briefly wandered to Tom. He was probably watching this somewhere, maybe even laughing as she was now. She couldn’t help but think that if their paths crossed—and she was sure they would—things might get very interesting.

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The next morning at the set was unlike any other. The usual pre-shoot routines were thrown into chaos as cast and crew buzzed with excitement, their energy crackling through the air like wildfire. It wasn’t just any morning; it was the morning after Y/N L/N’s premiere clip had blown up the internet.

Tom stepped onto the set, still bleary-eyed from a lack of sleep—who could sleep after a night like that?—but the moment he saw his co-stars’ faces, he knew he was in for it. The teasing began before he even had a chance to grab a cup of coffee.

“Oi, Tom!” Emma D’Arcy called out, their voice dripping with mock-seriousness as they waved their phone in the air. “Got any plans to defect to Team Black? I hear Y/N might be open to negotiations.”

Tom felt his face flush, but he couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “Fuck off, Emma,” he shot back, but there was no venom in his words. He was too giddy to be anything but amused.

Rhys Ifans leaned in right next to him. “Tom, I reckon it’s time you took this to the next level. Send her something, maybe—oh, I don’t know—a bouquet of green roses? Subtle, yet effective.”

Fabien Frankel clapped Tom on the back, his grin as wide as anyone’s. “Honestly, mate, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it. The internet’s gone feral, and it’s all because of you two.”

Tom could barely keep up with the barrage of comments. He was trying to play it cool, but inside he was practically vibrating with excitement. It was surreal—no, it was fucking unbelievable that Y/N had not only seen the clip but had played along so brilliantly. And now everyone knew about it. The entire set was alive with it.

Phia Saban sauntered over, raising an eyebrow at Tom. “You know, Tom, this could be your chance.”

Ewan Mitchell, who had been laughing since Tom walked in, finally decided to join the fray. “I told you, didn’t I? You went and made it deep, and now look where it’s gotten you—straight to the top of her radar. You’ve got the whole world watching now, mate. What’s your next move?”

Tom ran a hand through his hair, trying to process everything. He still couldn’t quite believe it—Y/N L/N, the Y/N L/N, had flirted back on camera, in front of the entire world. He felt feral, like a wild animal caught between disbelief and pure, unadulterated joy.

He let out a loud laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Next move? Christ, I don’t even know. How do you top that? Maybe I should just show up to her next premiere with a bloody dragon.”

Emma patted him on the shoulder, their grin wicked. “That’s the spirit, Tom. But seriously, you’ve got to strike while the iron’s hot. The fans are already shipping you two.”

Just when Tom thought the teasing couldn’t get any worse, Matt Smith strode onto the set, coffee in hand and an amused smirk already playing on his lips. The moment he saw Tom surrounded by the cast, all of them still buzzing from the morning’s revelations, Matt knew something was up.

“What’s all this then?” Matt asked. “Looks like I’ve missed quite the party.”

Olivia Cooke, always quick to catch Matt up, beamed at him. “Oh, you’re going to love this. Tom’s little schoolboy crush on Y/N L/N just went global, and she’s dared him to do something to win her over.”

Matt’s eyebrows shot up, and then he laughed—a loud, unabashed sound that filled the entire set. “You’ve got to be shitting me! Y/N L/N? As in, the Y/N L/N? Tom, you poor bastard.”

Tom groaned, running a hand down his face, but there was no hiding the grin that threatened to break through. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Matt. This is my life now.”

Matt shook his head, still chuckling. “I can’t believe it. I’ve worked with Y/N before, back when she did that one season on The Crown. She’s a bloody force of nature, mate. All or nothing with her. If she’s daring you, it means she’s already intrigued. But you better be ready to deliver, because Y/N doesn’t do things halfway.”

Ewan leaned in, eyes glinting with mischief. “Matt, you’ve got to tell him—what’s she like when she’s got her sights set on something?”

Matt set his coffee down, crossing his arms as he considered Tom with a gleam in his eye. “Let me tell you something, Tom. Y/N is the kind of person who, when she decides to go after something, she doesn’t just dip her toes in the water. She dives headfirst, no second thoughts, no holding back. And she expects the same in return. If you’re thinking about going after her, you better be ready to put everything on the line.”

Tom could feel his heart pounding, not from fear, but from the thrill of the challenge. “Fuck,” he muttered, grinning despite himself. “Sounds like I’m in for one hell of a ride.”

Matt clapped him on the back, his grin as wide as ever. “That’s the spirit, Tom. Just remember—don’t half-ass it. Y/N doesn’t play games unless they’re the high-stakes kind. But if you go all in, who knows? You might just come out on top.”

Fabien, who had been listening intently, couldn’t help but chime in. “Honestly, Tom, the whole world saw that clip. If you don’t do something epic now, you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Tom nodded, feeling a surge of determination. “You’re right. I can’t just let this slide. I’ve got to do something that’ll knock her off her feet.”

Matt grinned knowingly. “Good lad. And remember, she might be all or nothing, but if you go for it—really go for it—you’ll have her respect, if not more.”

As the cast began to prepare for the day’s shoot, the energy on set remained electric. Tom felt like he was on the cusp of something huge, something that could either be the best or the most terrifying thing he’d ever done. But one thing was for sure: he wasn’t about to back down.

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As the day’s shooting wound down and the cast began to peel away, heading back to their trailers or the waiting cars that would whisk them off to their respective lives, Tom found himself in a bit of a daze. The entire day had been a rollercoaster of teasing, planning, and more than a little anxiety as he contemplated what his next move with Y/N might be.

He was leaning against the side of the set, sipping on a bottle of water, when Matt walked over, still wearing that trademark smirk of his. Tom looked up, sensing that something was coming, and he wasn’t sure if he should be excited or terrified.

“So, Tom,” Matt began, his voice casual but with a hint of something mischievous beneath it, “I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never a good sign,” Tom shot back, but his grin didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was still buzzing with nerves.

Matt laughed, shaking his head. “You’re going to love this, mate. Turns out, I’ve got plans this weekend to meet up with Y/N at a pub. Just a low-key thing, some friends catching up, you know?”

Tom’s heart skipped a beat. “With Y/N?” he repeated, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. “You’re meeting Y/N this weekend?”

“Yeah,” Matt confirmed, his grin widening. “And I was thinking, why not bring you along? You know, give you a chance to show her just how charming you can be in person. It’s the perfect opportunity, Tom. No cameras, no pressure—just you, me, and Y/N with a few pints.”

Tom’s heart pounded so hard he could feel it in his throat. The idea of seeing Y/N in person, outside of the spotlight, was exhilarating. But at the same time, the thought of it made his stomach twist with nerves. What if he fucked it up? What if he got there and couldn’t string two words together?

“I don’t know, Matt…” Tom began, trying to find a way to express his uncertainty without sounding like a complete wuss. “I mean, what if it’s weird? What if she doesn’t even want me there?”

Before Matt could respond, Ewan, who had apparently been eavesdropping (and who was never one to let a good opportunity for chaos pass by), sidled up next to them. “What’s this?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock concern. “Tom getting cold feet? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Fabien, who had joined them as well, crossed his arms and gave Tom an exaggerated look of disappointment. “You’re not seriously backing out, are you? Come on, Tom. You’ve been handed the perfect setup, and now you’re going to chicken out?”

Tom opened his mouth to protest, but Matt cut him off, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, Tom, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Y/N’s cool as hell, and trust me—if she didn’t want you there, she wouldn’t have thrown down the gauntlet like she did. She’s daring you to show up, mate. You can’t just ignore that.”

Ewan’s eyes narrowed playfully. “And let’s be real, if you don’t show up, you’ll regret it. For the rest of your life, you’ll be that bloke who had a chance with Y/N L/N and didn’t take it.”

Fabien nodded, his expression turning serious. “This is your moment, Tom. Don’t overthink it. Just show up, be yourself, and let things happen. Besides, Matt’s got your back. You’re in good hands.”

Tom looked between the three of them, feeling the pressure from all sides. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go—he did, more than anything—but the idea of sitting across from Y/N, trying to impress her without making a fool of himself, was daunting as hell.

Matt, sensing Tom’s hesitation, gave him a reassuring smile. “Look, Tom, I get it. But trust me on this. Y/N’s not just some untouchable A-lister—she’s a person, same as you. And she’s already interested, or she wouldn’t have flirted back the way she did. Just show up, be yourself, and have a laugh. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Tom swallowed hard, nodding slowly. “You’re right. Fuck it, I’ll do it. I’ll come.”

Ewan let out a whoop of approval, slapping Tom on the back. “That’s the spirit! And hey, if things get awkward, just remember—Fabien and I will be waiting here to take the piss out of you when you get back.”

Fabien grinned. “And don’t forget, Tom, you’ve got a job to do. Make sure you convince her to change her allegiance to the Greens.”

Tom rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Right, because that’s what this is all about—winning her over to Team Green. Piece of cake, right?”

Matt chimed in with a snort. “Like hell.”

Tom steeled himself. “If I come back empty-handed, you lot better be ready to deal with the aftermath.”

Ewan clapped him on the shoulder again, his grin widening. “Don’t worry, Tom. Whatever happens, we’ve got your back. Just go in there and be yourself. The rest will take care of itself.”

And as Matt sauntered off with a final salute, Tom couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he had a shot at making Y/N see the appeal of the Greens—whether that was Aegon’s colors or something else entirely.

[simonbrain]

I just saw the post you made for creepy weirdo simon and ngl, I need more. Maybe even one for soap too. Your brain is very 🤌

i feel like with simon, he knows when to not push the limits too much. for all the shit you put up with, there have only been a few times he's actually made you uncomfortable, and he's never done them again. but he does attempt to get to that point without actually crossing the line—it's almost like a game for him. it's just lucky that you love him so much. you knew what you were getting into with this creep, so you beam at him and give him a sloppy little kiss on the lips whenever he's up to no good. simon thinks it's cute that you enable him.

with johnny, however, i think he comes on way too strong. on the first date, he took notes of your coffee order, the way you did your hair and the accessories you wore, your mannerisms. he paid close attention to everything you said, taking each word to heart and not blinking once. you brushed off his intensity because this was your first date in a while and it was nice to be sought after, especially by someone as handsome as him, so you kept the same energy even if his staring made you feel shy.

after that, he's already looking up your family history and friends online, your past homes and the places you've lived (even for very briefly), your workplace. he's stalking keeping tabs on you while you're running errands and noting the things you're buying and the places you go to; he's even taking a few pictures of you to show the lads his new girl.

by the time the second date rolls around, he's vibrating in his seat, trying to hold himself back from blurting out that he has your engagement ring in his pocket.

(when he actually has you as his missus and he's certain you won't run away, he tells you all about his crazy ass behaviour before you got together, about how he was already dreaming about having a nice, big family with you and how he was ready to get on his knees and sing his praises.

you cut his rambling off by leaning forward and shoving your tongue down his throat, eager to have sex for the nth time. you were right; it's nice to be showered with so much love and attention by your man.)

[acciojaeyun]

sleepless nights ; jake sim smut

pairing: sim jaeyun / jake x fem!reader genre: smut (minors dni)

jake pretty much lives the common stereotype of engineering students: smart in both physics and mathematics and sleep deprived. and while everyone has studying to blame, jake pretty much places the blame on you: who couldn’t – for god’s sake – couldn’t keep your moans to yourself.

warnings: sub!jake, mommy kink, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v (unprotected, but reader is taking pills) a bit of perv!jake if you squint. let me know if i missed something! words: 2.3k

While every engineering student have plates and lectures to blame for their all-nighters, whether caffeinated or not – Jake Sim has a different reason why he kept on yawning during his lecture on fluid mechanics, and that was his pretty roommate: you, of course.

No, it wasn’t because you distract him whenever he made his plates in the dining room whenever he needed a change of scenery from his usual study area (his room); it also wasn’t because you were too goddamn pretty that whenever he zones out while trying to understand the Freundlich and Langmuir isotherm constants, he finds himself staring at you. 

In fact, he was blaming you for not realising that the walls between yours and his room were thin, that meant, whenever you were too horny to contain yourself from not touching your aching pussy, he hears everything. 

In fact, he was blaming you for not realising that the walls between yours and his room were thin, that meant, whenever you were too horny to contain yourself from not touching your aching pussy, he hears everything. 

Jake must contain himself some of the times whenever he hears you whimper, but most of the times he cannot help but feel the urge to masturbate with you when your moans got louder. 

It was if you were giving him a taste of your sound without you realising it.

And just like every other night, Jake, for the nth time this week, was stirred awake by your suppressed whines. Jake was half amused and half pissed, he was about to have an in-campus reporting about the latest group project; and while he was confident about his knowledge regarding it, he wasn’t confident enough whether he’ll be able to answer possible questions thrown by the professor with no sleep.

You, on the other hand, are having the time of your life as you grinded on the small vibrator you had pushed against your dripping core. Imagining it was Jake, your roommate, rather than your fingers or the small vibrating device. Yes, you had a crush on your roommate – who could blame you? 

However, you couldn’t let Jake know that you were head over heels attracted and in love with him. Little did you know, your whines and moans somehow gave you away to the suspecting lad. But, true to Jake’s respectful nature, he acknowledged boundaries, and was too respectful enough to not bring up whatever he hears every night.

But just like how all good things come to an end, you felt your heartbeat increase not from pleasure but from panic as you realise the intensity of your vibrator was decreasing, notifying you that it would go out in a while.

“Shit, shit, shit, no!” you whined as you desperately humped against it in the hopes of catching your orgasm before it shuts down. But against your sheer luck, the vibrator had died down before you could feel the coil tighten at your belly.

You groaned, “For fuck’s sake.” 

You tiptoed outside of your room to search your whole apartment for batteries. Going through every cabinet in the living room (you almost wanted to check the TV remote and Jake’s gaming console, but you were not that desperate, not yet), but you haven’t found any.  And it wasn’t until you ventured to the kitchen in the hopes of finding spare when you saw Jake leaning against the counter in deep thought with a glass of water in his hand.

“Jake! What are you doing here?” you squealed.

The boy looked at you with furrowed brows before licking his lips, “I could ask the same to you.”

“It’s – it’s nothing, I was just looking for something.”

“What was it?”

“It’s fine, I could just look for it tomorrow,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Well, the fact that you look annoyed means that you need it right now.”

“Jake, just drop it,” you said as you still went on opening every cupboard and pulling every drawer just to find a pair of AA batteries just so you could get your much-deserved orgasm for tonight after your assessment in Medieval English and related literatures – which you weren’t entirely confident in.

“What is it that you’re looking for? I could help you with it.” He offered as he placed his empty glass down on the counter.

“Batteries,” you blushed.

“Double A ones? We’ve run out, I used the last pair in our wall clock.”

Great, now you were feeling more frustrated than ever. “It’s fine,” you convinced Jake, but more so convincing yourself. How could you feel relieved this day? First academic distress, and now we have sexual distress to top it off. Clearly, today wasn’t your very lucky day.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not fine, babe,” he says as he sits on the marble counter of your kitchen, “you’ve gotten all worked up, you know you could tell all the noises inside your head, right?”

“I –“ you looked at him with eyebrows raised, were you just hallucinating the innuendo that seeped through his words?

It was only then had you noticed that Jake had discarded his top. His dark hair in a sloppy mess that made him look ten times attractive, his grey sweatpants hanging loose just about his v-line, leaving everything up to imagination.

“I’ve been just so frustrated, Jake. All I bloody want is a release, like my God, I just want to come to let all my frustrations out.” You groaned as you leaned against the kitchen island, burying your face in your hands.

Jake cleared his throat, “No judgment, Y/N,” he clarifies, “but, I could help? That is, if you want me to?”

You almost choked on your saliva at his words. Did you hear him correctly? Him, Sim Jaeyun, is offering you to help you out in your sexual frustrations? That were merely caused by him and his oozing sex appeal?

God, you wish you were dreaming.

But the same man walking towards you to trap you against the kitchen island with both of his arms on either side of your body countered your thoughts inside your head. He ghosted his lips against your cheek, his warm breath fanning across your jaw as you tried to calm your frantic heart. 

You whimpered at the proximity, and you pulled him by his shoulders to meet his plump lips which you have daydreamed for so long. You kissed him feverishly, hands immediately flying to his hair as his hands held on to the back of your thigh to place you on the countertop.

He pulled away and bit his lip before diving to your neck, sucking, licking, and kissing every inch of skin before pulling away to meet your face, “I need a ‘yes,’” he says as he traces his index finger over your swollen lips.

You licked his index finger which caused goosebumps to rise over his skin, “Yes, baby, you could help mommy out,” you said, implying your name over the boy, whose eyes have darkened into a much deeper shade of brown at the mention of your name.

All Jake ever wanted from now on was to please you – to be your good boy.

Jake immediately went back to attacking your neck with kissing and sucking, making you moan out his name whenever he does so. Your pussy has started clenching on nothing because of how much turned on you were. You wanted Jake, hell, you wanted Jake so badly. 

“I want to come, Jake, can you make mommy come?” you asked as you palmed his erection over his grey sweatpants, eliciting a groan from him.

The boy nodded, “Yes, mommy, I can, I can.”

He took no time in massaging your breasts over your oversized shirt after pulling your body closer to him, his face leaning in as he made out with you as you contained your moans. His free hand held your neck to keep your face in place as he started grinding against you, his clothed cock rubbing against your clothed cunt was enough to make you lose all forms of sanity.

“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked as he pulled away, a string of your mixed saliva following the plumpness of his lips, to which you nodded before pulling back slightly to make his task easier.

“Mommy, you’re so sexy,” he breathed out before plunging his mouth in between your breasts, eyes meeting you as he crouched down, turning you on more than ever as how he looked so fucking small licking the skin between your breasts. He took his time licking the flesh around your nipple before giving it attention, his mouth sucking your areola as harsh as he could ever.

“Oh, fuck me,” you whined as his finger started handling the unattended breast, slapping the side of it while pinching your nipple which elicited a squeal from you. “Jake, you’re doing so great for mommy,” you said as you pushed some of his hair away from his face.

Jake moaned in recognition before smiling up at you as his hands took a hold at the waistbands of your pyjamas, he giggled as he pulled them down, and he almost came at the sight of your drenched underwear.

“See that, baby?” you teased as you hoisted his face to meet your gaze, “my pussy’s all wet because of you.”

The boy licked his lips at your statement before pulling your underwear down at the ground for you to both worry about later. He pulled your hips towards his face for him to have an easier access to your dripping cunt. He leaned in, giving your clit kitten licks which made your body jolt against the sensation.

“Don’t tease mommy, sweetie,” you threatened, to which Jake obliged. He went down to lick a bold stripe from your vagina up to your clit, obtaining a strangled groan from you. You fucking dreamed of this, having to have his tongue lick your pussy that you knew was only wet every time you masturbated at the thought of him.

He devoured your cunt like a man starved, his tongue prodding over your entrance to lick up towards your clit wherein he would shake his head sideways to give you different sensations from his sinful ministrations. 

“You know how to use your tongue well, don’t you?” you breathed as you rolled your eyes almost to the back of your head.

Not a long while after, you let out a scream as you felt his finger intrude your entrance, pushing and pulling back his middle finger until his ring finger joined in before standing up to meet your lips in a French kiss while he fucked your pussy with two of his fingers in, the tips of his fingers making a “come here” motion as he thrusted his hand inside you.

“Fuck, Jake, you’re going to make mommy come, fuck – don’t stop,”

“Go, mommy, make a mess on your baby’s fingers,” he urged, fastening his pace before leaning down to your breasts again for him to suck on. You squealed at the simulation he was giving you. Sooner enough, you’ve felt the coil in your belly snap as you came around on his fingers, Jake groaning at the sight of your cum gathering on his digits.

“Look at me, baby,” you said, pulling his face towards you to kiss him. “I want you to fuck me.” You said as you looked in his eyes.

Jake gulped and nodded, before pulling his fingers out. “Want to taste, mommy?” he asked, placing his fingers in front of your mouth, to which you accepted, sucking his fingers clean before kissing him to give him a taste of your cum.

“You taste heavenly, mommy,” he blushed as he pulled his sweats down. 

“Baby, you’re big, how’s that going to fit me?” you groaned at the dick that sprung out as his pants were also pulled down. “Gonna make it fit inside me, ‘no?” you asked, to which he nodded.

He bit his lip as his tip tapped your clit before lining himself up in your entrance. He met your eyes, asking permission for the last time before you nodded. He inched himself in, earning a breathy moan from you as you held the nape of his neck to bring him closer to you.

“Holy fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, biting on your shoulder to stop himself from thrusting before you could adjust. “You’re so big,” you replied, “you can move now.”

Jake pulled away to look at where his dick is buried inside you, he pulled out slightly before slowly thrusting back in, building a consistent rhythm. At first, his thrusts were cautious, slow, yet deep; but, as he felt the craving to make you come again for the second time because of him, his thrusts became faster as it had gone deeper. His hand snaked around your waist as his spare hand placed your leg on his shoulder, the new angle hitting places inside of your desperate cunt.

A string of incoherent praises and cuss words were all splurged out from your mouth, egging Jake on as he fucked you into the night. He groaned and moaned with his face scrunched up and his eyes sewed shut at the immense pleasure he was feeling right now.

“Gonna come,” Jake announced as you felt his thrusts became sloppy, and it was just about time when you felt you were about to come too. “Me too, baby, come with mommy, come on,” you urged him as you clenched around his dick, helping him to chase his release with you.

You both cry each of your names as you both come undone, his warm cum mixing with yours as you feel him still inside you, dick still buried deep. You both stayed in this position, his sweaty forehead against the crook of your neck as you calmed each of your erratic heartbeats.

“Did so well for mommy,” you whispered as you kissed his hair, making him smile against your skin. 

“Y/N?” he asked after a while to which you hummed in acknowledgement.

Jake took a deep breath, “Go out with me?”

You could not say no.

[bansheeboyy]

The Bull

The animatronic bull grunts and huffs, flaring its nostrils as steam billows out, the head tilting and front hoofs stomping. The crowd goes wild with cheers, snapping photos and selfies with the enormous automaton, whose presence is a novel sight in the city. The council funded its creation for the Festival of Arts this summer, and so far it is a huge success, drawing crowds of hundreds every day.

Little do they know, at the heart of the beast lies a poor young man, stark naked on all fours, wrists, knees and ankles strapped to the platform he rests on, his bare feet hanging off the edge. Vibrators buzz at his nipples in fluctuating patterns of intensity, and another buzzes deep inside him, making his guts tingle and fizz with pleasure. A large feathered vibrating probe resides underneath his dangling balls, tickling and stimulating all at once, keeping him in a tortured state of arousal. Worst of all are the feathers at his feet; eight smaller ones that dance and spin in each of his toe gaps, and two larger ones that caress the entire bare soles of his feet up and down, up and down. Their fluffy, frilly lengths travel from the top of the heels, down his taut arches to the base of his immobile toes, ceaselessly torturing the sensitive flesh. The lad guffaws with laughter, desperate for the feathers to stop, to have mercy, but they are as thoughtless and uncaring as the bull he resides in.

His large udder is entirely engulfed in a plastic pump, the insides made of lubricated ribbed sillicone. The pump sucks and slurps on his udder without rest, bringing the lad closer and closer until milk erupts from him and he grunts and groans with the pleasure of it. Even after all these times it's still pleasurable, still enough to make him moan and tense and scream as he jizzes, his loads somehow just as thick and plentiful as his first in the bull, maybe beacuse of whatever is in the drinking tube near his head. It certainly isn't water. His prison somehow knows when he cums. It turns on the microphone near his face and records his involuntary orgasmic groaning, amplifying it and making his tortured moos come from the bull's own mouth. Then the microphone turns off as his insane laughter replaces the grunts once more, and his milk is whisked away down a tube to a transparent tank placed in his eyeline.

This cycle repeats. He's lost count how many times he's creamed - it has to be getting into the teens - but the large tank is still barely an eighth full. They tell him his shift is over when the tank is full to the brim, but that can't be right. Surely it can't. He hasn't got the energy, or the spunk, to even come close to that target. When they were setting him up, stripping him nude and strapping him in after snatching him, they called him 'this week's bull'. So there would be more after him, another poor lad restrained and tickled and milked like a farm animal, and even more after him. And more importantly, he was going to be imprisoned here for a WEEK? Please, have mercy! Let me out! He would have screamed if he'd had the energy. Why had he come alone, why in the early morning when nobody was around? If only someone knew he was here, could help him, call the police, anything! But no one did, no one except his captors, who were probably lounging at the disguised entrance to the bull, smoking and laughing, leaving the lad to his dehumanising fate. If the brutal tickling on his naked soles and slurping on his engorged cock didn't give him other things to worry about he could have cried. He couldn't do this!

But the bull keepers knew he could. The lads never had faith at the start, but they always made it through, gallons of tears, sweat and semen later. They made much better bulls than they thought; they always reached their quota of milk, albeit with some 'encouragement' needed for some of them. For now, though, the lad is more concerned with the present than the future. Another orgasm is coming, a big one. His face screws up in ecstasy as he creams abundantly into the tube and lets out an almighty groan between his laughter, his whole body feeling the shockwave of euphoric pleasure. If his toes could have curled, they would have, but they were immobile to make the feathers' job that much easier. "Uunnnngggghhhhhhhhhhh!"

The animatronic bull grunts and huffs, flaring its nostrils as steam billows out, the head tilting and front hoofs stomping as it booms an almighty, laborious moo. The crowd goes wild with cheers, snapping photos and selfies with the enormous automaton, blissfully unaware of the trick that makes the bull seem so alive....

[cynicalrosebud]

RHI - NSFW: Control

NSFW Masterlist

Pairing(s): Soap x Rumor

Summary: Johnny teaches his sub a lesson in the meaning of ‘too much of a good thing’.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, gay sex, BDSM dynamics (Master/sub), power dynamics, praise kink, slight degradation, gags, restraints, chastity, butt plugs, safe sane consensual, milking, overstimulation, slight cnc, aftercare

The dim light of the room cast long shadows over the two figures within, creating an atmosphere thick with anticipation. Rumor—Carwyn—lay on the bed, his wrists bound tightly behind his back with smooth leather straps, his jaw clenched around a ball gag that muffled his sounds. His body trembled with both frustration and desire as he knelt, his head lowered, legs spread wide, his cock trapped in a chastity cage that left him achingly hard but unable to find any relief.

Soap—John MacTavish—stood in front of him, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on Carwyn’s form with an intense, calculating focus. His presence loomed large, every inch of him radiating authority and control. The silence was punctuated only by Carwyn’s heavy breathing and the occasional creak of the bed as he shifted, trying and failing to ease the pressure building in his body.

"Look at you," Soap’s voice was low, almost a growl, sending a shiver down Carwyn’s spine. He stepped closer, his boots echoing ominously in the quiet room as he circled Carwyn, admiring the way his muscles tensed and flexed under the strain. "All tied up… completely at my mercy."

Carwyn let out a muffled whimper, his body jerking involuntarily as Soap’s hand slid down his spine, teasing, but never quite enough to give him what he so desperately craved. The chastity cage bit into his skin, a constant reminder of how close he was to the edge, and yet how impossibly far away.

"You've been pushin’ your luck, kitten," Soap continued, his tone stern as he crouched down to eye level, his hand slipping under Carwyn’s chin to tilt his face up. The leather gag kept his words at bay, but the look in his eyes said everything—defiance, frustration, and under all of it, the raw, burning need. "But tonight? You’re not gettin’ what you want, lad. Not until I say."

Carwyn’s breath hitched, his chest rising and falling rapidly as Soap’s thumb brushed over his gagged lips, teasing him with a softness that only made the situation more unbearable. His legs were already trembling, every fiber of his being screaming for some form of relief, but he knew there was no escape—not from this, not from Soap.

Soap stood again, and Carwyn watched as he retrieved a small remote from the bedside table, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips as he clicked the button. Instantly, the toy inside Carwyn—plugged deep and buzzing with relentless vibrations—sprang to life, sending jolts of pleasure through him. His body bucked, a desperate moan spilling from his throat, but the chastity cage kept him locked tight, unable to come no matter how hard his body begged for it.

"Ah, there it is," Soap murmured, his voice laced with amusement as he watched Carwyn writhe. "You look so fuckin' pretty like this, helpless and desperate." He clicked the button again, ramping up the intensity of the vibrator, watching as Carwyn’s back arched, his head tipping back as the overstimulation hit him like a wave.

Carwyn’s mind was spinning, overwhelmed by the sensations crashing through him. The vibrator pulsed inside him, filling him up and pushing him closer to the brink, while the cage kept him teetering on the edge of insanity. His muffled cries echoed in the room, a symphony of need and frustration that only seemed to spur Soap on.

"You wanted this, didn’t you?" Soap teased, running a hand over Carwyn’s quivering thigh, the touch light and mocking. "Always such a cheeky fucker, but now look at you. So easy to break down when I’ve got you like this."

Carwyn whimpered, his eyes fluttering shut as his body trembled uncontrollably. Every muscle in his body was tight, his mind foggy with pleasure and the painful denial of release. He tugged at the bindings on his wrists, but they held firm, just as Soap had promised they would.

"You want to come, don’t you?" Soap asked, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of Carwyn’s ear. "I can see it, feel it. You’re so close, princess. But you know the rules. Not until I say."

Carwyn moaned around the gag, nodding desperately, his body straining as the vibrations inside him intensified yet again. The overstimulation was too much—his entire being was focused on the unbearable pleasure and the denial of release, teetering on the edge of madness as Soap controlled every sensation.

Soap chuckled darkly, his hand slipping between Carwyn’s legs to cup his caged cock, applying just enough pressure to make him squirm. "Poor thing," he cooed, mocking sympathy in his tone. "I could let you come, could give you what you need… but where’s the fun in that?"

He clicked the remote again, the vibrations ramping up to a level that had Carwyn shaking, his body convulsing with the sheer intensity of it. The need to come was overwhelming, but the cage kept him locked tight, forcing him to ride out the pleasure with no release in sight.

Tears pricked at the corners of Carwyn’s eyes, the frustration and pleasure blending into a potent mix that had him trembling violently. He was so close, so fucking close, but Soap wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.

"That’s it," Soap murmured, his voice low and almost soothing as he ran a hand through Carwyn’s hair, tugging just enough to make him look up. "Take it. Let me hear those pretty sounds."

Carwyn let out a broken moan, his body twitching with every pulse of the vibrator, his mind completely lost to the overstimulation. He was nothing more than a mess of raw, desperate need, his entire world narrowed down to the feeling of Soap’s control, the tightness of the cage, and the relentless buzz inside him.

Finally, when Carwyn’s body was on the verge of collapse, Soap clicked the remote one last time, turning off the vibrator and leaving Carwyn gasping for breath, his body shaking uncontrollably. He was so close, so fucking close to the edge, but still denied the release he so desperately craved.

"Not tonight, kitten," Soap murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Carwyn’s head, his tone both cruel and tender. "You’ll come when I decide. And not a moment before."

Carwyn slumped forward, exhausted, his mind spinning from the overwhelming sensations and the brutal denial. He knew Soap wouldn’t let him come tonight—knew this was the punishment he’d earned for being such a cocky bastard. But even in his haze of frustration and exhaustion, a part of him loved it—loved being completely at Soap’s mercy, loved the way Soap controlled his every breath, every moan.

The room was filled with a thick tension, the kind that lingered in the air, making every breath seem heavier. Soap stood over Carwyn, admiring the way the man trembled in his bonds, still kneeling, body quivering from the aftermath of being pushed to the brink and denied.

“Been patient enough, haven’t you, princess?” Soap’s voice was a low rumble, amusement and satisfaction dripping from every word. He stepped forward, hands reaching out to trail over Carwyn’s exposed chest, the pads of his fingers barely brushing against his skin, eliciting a full-body shiver from him.

Carwyn’s eyes flicked up, glazed over, lips still parted around the gag, his body screaming for release after the torment he’d endured. The chastity cage remained in place, a reminder of Soap’s control, of how close and yet how far he’d been from relief all this time.

With a smirk, Soap’s fingers found the lock on the cage, releasing it with a click. Slowly, agonizingly, he removed it, the cool air hitting Carwyn’s freed cock, making him groan low in his throat. The throbbing need was still there, pulsing through him with a vengeance, his length twitching, desperate to be touched.

Soap, ever the sadistic bastard, took his time. His hand wrapped around Carwyn’s cock, slowly stroking, teasing the sensitive flesh. “So hard for me,” he whispered, voice filled with dark approval. “Beggin’ to come, aren’t you?”

Carwyn let out a choked sound, a mix of frustration and need, his hips bucking involuntarily into Soap’s hand. His mind was foggy, his body reduced to pure instinct, chasing the pleasure that had been denied for far too long.

Soap’s hand tightened around him, picking up the pace, pumping Carwyn’s cock with just the right amount of pressure. “Not so cocky now, are ya?” he teased, his grip firm, twisting just enough to drive Carwyn wild. “You’ve been good… so you’ll get what you want. But I’ll decide how much.”

The promise in Soap’s voice made Carwyn’s head swim. He could feel the pleasure building fast, racing through his veins, overwhelming him after so long on the edge. His moans, muffled by the gag, grew louder, more desperate as Soap’s hand worked him faster, more expertly, knowing exactly how to push him right to the breaking point.

Just when Carwyn thought he couldn’t take it anymore, his body tensed, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave. He came hard, his cock pulsing in Soap’s hand, thick ropes of cum spilling out, coating Soap’s fingers. His body convulsed with the force of it, the orgasm so intense after being denied for so long that it left him gasping, his vision swimming.

But Soap wasn’t done. Not even close.

Before Carwyn could recover, Soap’s hand was back on him, stroking his oversensitive cock, dragging out every last bit of pleasure and pushing him into overstimulation. Carwyn’s moans turned into gasps, his body shaking as Soap’s relentless pace pushed him right back into the fire.

“Gonna give me another one, princess,” Soap growled, his hand never stopping, even as Carwyn’s hips jerked in a futile attempt to escape the intensity. “You’ve been so fuckin’ greedy… now you’ll give me everythin’.”

Carwyn could hardly think, his mind spinning from the overstimulation. His cock throbbed, still hard despite the orgasm he’d just had, the pleasure bordering on pain as Soap’s hand worked him over and over again. He couldn’t hold back the whimpers, couldn’t stop the way his body trembled under Soap’s touch, his muscles taut and straining.

Soap grinned, enjoying the sight of Carwyn breaking under him, his control slipping with every passing second. He leaned in close, his breath hot against Carwyn’s ear. “You’re mine, Carwyn,” he whispered, voice rough and commanding. “And you’ll come as many times as I fuckin’ want.”

With those words, Soap’s hand twisted just right, his thumb brushing over the tip of Carwyn’s cock, sending him spiraling into another orgasm. This one was just as powerful, if not more, tearing through him like a storm. His entire body went rigid, his cock pulsing as he came again, completely at Soap’s mercy.

And still, Soap didn’t stop.

He kept stroking, his hand unrelenting as Carwyn’s body twitched and shuddered, trapped in a cycle of overstimulation and pleasure that left him breathless, his mind fogged with nothing but Soap’s control. The pleasure was almost too much, his cock so sensitive it bordered on pain, but there was no escape. Not until Soap decided.

“Good lad,” Soap praised, his voice dark and satisfied as he watched Carwyn unravel in his hands. “You’ll keep goin’, won’t you? Until I say you’re done.”

Carwyn could only nod, his body completely spent, but Soap’s hand never slowed, drawing out every last bit of his strength. His vision blurred, his body trembling uncontrollably as Soap continued to push him, his cock still leaking, still throbbing, even as the overstimulation threatened to break him.

By the time Soap finally slowed his pace, Carwyn was barely able to hold himself up, his body shaking, his mind spinning. The gag muffled his soft whimpers, his entire being reduced to a quivering mess of overstimulated nerves and pleasure.

Soap leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Carwyn’s forehead, his voice a low murmur. “That’s it, princess… all spent for me.”

He finally released Carwyn’s cock, letting him slump forward, completely spent. Soap’s hands moved to untie the leather straps around his wrists, the bindings coming loose, but Carwyn could barely move, his body too weak and overstimulated to do anything but collapse into Soap’s waiting arms.

Soap held him close, his strong arms cradling Carwyn’s trembling body, pressing soft kisses to the side of his neck as he murmured soothing words. “You did so well, kitten… so fuckin’ well.”

Carwyn, still dazed and exhausted, leaned into the warmth of Soap’s embrace, his heart racing as the last remnants of pleasure coursed through him. Despite everything, despite the brutal overstimulation, there was something grounding in Soap’s touch, something comforting in the way he held him after.

Soap smiled, holding Carwyn close, knowing full well that tonight, they had pushed boundaries, but in the best possible way.

[silverstarsheep]

Honestly I 100% imagine the 'bed' FP got 'given' was actually the dingy old sofa that Peppino barely even remembers where he got it from it's been so long. He just got an extra pillow and found a blanket and called it a 'bed'.

But (judging from how his 'place' in the tower looked) I doubt FP has ever really been "given" things before, or at least not without some kind of 'you owe me now' kinda hook to it. So when given the 'bed' he just... starts shaking and crying intensely like a little dog because he's so happy!!!! He just!! No idea how to express it right!! There's so much happy in that goop body!!! aaaaaaaaa!!! [intense happy vibrations]!!!!!! Such a good lad!!

awwwwwwwwwwwwwww yesss that's super adorable, hahaha. poor fake pep, only ever given the worst of the seconds, it's nice to get a hand-me-down that actually functions the way it's supposed to! and given out of care, at that! imagine his reaction to giving him something completely brand new, that'd be so wild for him.....

love and joy is stored within the sentient goop pile

[belltrigger]

Hmmm Stop for the lads 🤔🤔 maybe bot emmet and botmaker Ingo :U? Or ehehe you could do yemmet and oingo 😤😤😤

-Send me a “Stop” and I’ll write a drabble about one character calming the other down (from anger, jealously, etc)

Hello!!! Stop, hm~? q(≧▽≦q) Okay okay let's see what I can do here.

Title: Just Call Me Emmet Word count: 1,196 Synopsis: Emmet has arrived in Hisui with relatively little issue. However, a habit that Ingo has unconsciously picked up has accidentally upset Emmet. Dynamic: NoboKuda, older Ingo/younger Emmet (Oingo/Yemmet)

~~*~~

"Hey Ingo?"

Emmet's light voice broke the gentle silence that had settled between them as they prepared dinner together. It was a welcome change from how Emmet had sounded when he first arrived in Hisui, tired and tattered, exhausted after a search he'd thought would go on forever. The manic joy he'd shown when it finally registered that he'd found Ingo had smoothed into a beaming happiness as Emmet firmly grasped the idea that Ingo was not going to disappear again.

It was natural enough to welcome Emmet into the house given to him by Irida-sama. Memories or not, the easy comfort he had with Emmet could not be ignored, and the idea of Emmet living with him felt right. Despite not seeing each other for so long (longer for him, with the physical changes that came along with it), they fell into an natural rhythm. Though Ingo only barely remembered him, it didn't deter Emmet. Every day, his twin smiled brightly at him, and told him a little bit more about their shared life before Ingo had vanished. Although he refrained from doing it in public, substituted with merely brushing their knuckles together when they stood close enough, Emmet held his hand whenever possible in their home. Emmet spoke warmly of their closeness, and had even revealed the truth of their relationship. In addition to being twins, they were also lovers, and that Ingo had been the one to first confess.

As honest and true as it felt, Ingo thought it improper to reveal the nature of their relationship to those around them. So, he introduced Emmet as his brother to everyone he knew, and his twin's easy cheer endeared him to nearly everyone they met. If anyone thought it odd that Emmet stood so close to him, then they kept it to themselves.

Today, though, Emmet had met Melli. The long-haired man had long proven himself willing to cause trouble for others just to hassle Ingo, but it would have been rude to exclude him from meeting Emmet. After all, his issue with Melli was solely because his mischief caused safety concerns for other people. Emmet was an adult, and astute at reading people, so he should be free to create his own opinion of others.

"Why does Melli dislike you?" Emmet casually chopped some vegetables, only looking up at Ingo when he'd paused cutting and set down the knife.

"Hm, I honestly cannot fathom his reason." Where Emmet had been in charge of the vegetables, Ingo worked on preparing the stock for their stew. "Gaeric-sama believed he wanted my attention, but that seems like a pretty fool-hardy way to receive it."

Emmet made a sound, one that Ingo could not place. It was like a hum in thought caught in the throat, smothered in an attempt to hide it. Glancing up in confusion, his eyebrows knit together at the state his twin was in.

He could practically see Emmet vibrate, expression somehow becoming more intense despite his lips still turned up in a v-shaped smile. The young man who looked like he must surely have once, when he was easily decades younger, watched him without blinking. It was almost like staring down an angry Alpha pokemon.

"Emmet-sama?"

The smile on Emmet's face stiffened more. "Emmet. I am Emmet." Ingo tilted his head in confusion, sure that was what he'd said. The name was firm in his heart, a knowledge that had been just on the edges of his faded and blurred memories from before.

"Yes," Ingo said softly, trying to gauge where Emmet was going with his sudden mood change. Emmet turned to him, hands balled into fists at his side. He'd not realized the meeting with Melli had angered him so much.

But, instead of anger like he'd anticipated, Emmet's expression started to crumple. Although the smile remained, the skin under his lip bunched up as if Emmet was incapable of frowning. "Just call me Emmet," he choked out. "Don't call me the same as everyone else..." He brought the heel of his left palm up to his eye, already rubbing to hide any wetness that sprung up there.

Very gently, "Oh Emmet," came out before he could think of anything else. and he reached out a hand for Emmet's other. Without hesitation, despite still scrubbing at his eye, Emmet took his hand. Giving his twin's hand a squeeze he hoped was comforting, he brought his other hand up to try and coax Emmet to stop rubbing at his eyes. "My apologies, I did not mean to upset you."

"Does Ingo like someone else? Someone he doesn't call the same way?" Emmet stubbornly kept one hand up to his eyes, so he couldn't see the surprise on Ingo's face. In fact, he also didn't see the furrowing of Ingo's brows that quickly followed after. "Is it Mel--"

Emmet couldn't continue, because Ingo kissed him then, firmly, sternly. It was not romantic, not by half, and Ingo would surely make up for it once he convinced his quite silly twin that his worries were unfounded. Releasing both of Emmet's hands to wrap his arms around his younger brother's waist, he put their foreheads together. Emmet had no choice but to lower his hand, and after a moment he placed both of his hands on Ingo's now much thicker biceps.

The little flick of Emmet's eyes to his arms was not missed, but he would approach that later. "Do you think I would kiss anyone but you? My memories have failed me, that much is certain, but I still thought of you every day. This mouth is reserved for the Man in White only." The amusement in his tone for the last sentence eased a bit of tension out of Emmet's shoulders, and his lip no longer quivered.

"Only the Man in White? If I wore green would you have not recognized me?" It was half a tease, suggesting Emmet worried even over something so silly.

"Best not wear green. These old eyes aren't quite what they used to be. I'd have to lean in close to recognize your cute face." Another tease, and he rubbed their foreheads together, pleased when Emmet let out a quiet chuckle.

"Then I would get another kiss!" Emmet declared, turning more playful by the moment now that his worried had finally been spoken. "I am Emmet. I will wear many colors!"

With an approving hum, Ingo hugged his younger brother tighter. "I'll just keep kissing you to be sure, then."

Emmet slid his face down to rest his forehead on Ingo's shoulder, though his hands didn't move from Ingo's biceps. "And hugging?"

"And hugging, of course. I will give you anything you need for proof." They hugged for a few minutes, the sound of their stew stock bubbling away as they simply enjoyed the embrace. Finally, Emmet leaned back and seemed to feel much better. His smile was bright again, no longer strained, and he cheerfully went back to finish the vegetables.

After that, Ingo made certain to always allow Emmet to brush his knuckles against his. And, he even held his hand in public on occasion.

[foulbearobservation]

You’ve given me BeaCam and OT4 brain rot, thank you so much: I think BeaCam would occasionally play gentle, nerdy scenes that tap into how smart they both are as well as Bea’s praise kink. Cam would have Bea tell her about some theory or read something in one of her more complicated languages while Cam works her over and tells her how good and smart she is. I don’t think it would be anything truly difficult bc if Bea’s past of needing to be useful/trying not to be cast aside, but after they figure out the right level of intensity, it’s v therapeutic for Bea to finally be actually rewarded for everything she did to protect herself. Probably a fun type of scene to pull Ava into when she’s feeling toppy, too.

We got another one lads!

Also you're so right they would absolutely talk like,,, hmmm quantum computing theory just so cam can make a truly excellent demonstration about how in classical computing, every bit can either be 1 or 0 (on or off), while quantum theory is based on the idea that one bit can be 1 and 0 (on and off) at the same time and this whole time she's truly just torturing bea with their little remote controlled vibrator. There's a joke to be made there, I know there is.

Be the change u wanna see in the world anon, post the full beacam sex scene or I riot.

[larry-hiatus]

30 Days of Smut Snippets - Day 12

I’m doing something a bit different for today’s snippet. This is from a fic I was working on way back from like 2012 to 2015 or something. It’s not on AO3, and I’m going to assume most of my followers now did not read it when I originally posted it on Tumblr lol but hopefully you like this little bit! It’s from the first real smut I ever wrote, so it’s definitely not at the level I write now, but I thought I would pull it out for funsies. Please ignore the head hopping lol it’s driving me crazy, but I didn’t want to edit this too much!

As the darker lad shifted, a guttural cry tumbled from Harry’s mouth, and Zayn knew he’d found the boy’s sweet spot. Zayn tormented his prostate continuously as he reached around to stroke his hard-on, producing a harsh weep from the boy beneath him. He leaned forward until his sweaty chest was pressed against Harry’s back, and he gave the boy’s damp neck a soft kitten lick as Harry whined high in his throat.

“That’s it, Harry,” he breathed against his pink-tipped ear, the way he used to when he felt Harry getting close. Zayn knew the younger lad’s body so well, had explored it so meticulously, that he would often know when Harry was nearing his orgasm even before Harry did. Harry tightened and gasped, causing Zayn to smile slightly, glad that he was still familiar with his friend’s patterns. “Come on, babe,” he encouraged lowly, fondling him faster and screwing him further until he was balls deep inside of him. He mouthed at Harry’s shoulder, pinching at the skin with his teeth until he felt Harry start to tremble.

Harry’s legs began to shake, muscles rippling beneath his skin, threatening to give out from beneath him, and he clutched at the sheets, praying he wouldn’t pass out before he could come. He shut his eyes tightly, and he clamped around Zayn, as he felt his orgasm initiating at the center of his groin and the tips of his toes, which curled painfully into the mattress. Sweat erupted from his pores and his heart pumped harder, threatening to chase his climax from his core.

And then he was coming – hard, and messy, and loud, a storm of shouts and wordless pleasure quickly wrenching Zayn to his own peak behind him. The two vibrated against each other, panting and reeling with fierce intensity, open mouthed and purring deliciously. The older boy felt Harry’s thick cum coat his hand, and he shuddered at its familiarity.

(Find the rest here)

[disneymarina]

*Marina, the new found member, enters the pack's territory with a mix of nervousness and excitement, unaware of the dangers that lurk among the shadows. As she catches her breath, a peculiar sensation washes over her, signaling an imminent transformation.*Marina's Werewolf Form: Marina's body begins to contort and shift, her slender frame broadening into a powerful, athletic build. Her dark brown hair lengthens into a luxuriant mane, with strands the color of rich mahogany weaving through the main dark locks. Her eyes, once hidden behind rimless glasses, now gleam with an otherworldly intensity as her pupils elongate into horizontal slits. Her features soften, taking on a more feline quality, with high cheekbones and a delicate, pointed chin. The once-pale skin darkens to a warm, golden undertone, reflecting the earthy tones of her heritage. Her fingers extend, transforming into sharp, retractable claws.Rank: Marina, still getting accustomed to her newfound abilities, finds herself at the Omega rank, naturally inclined to serve and care for the pack's well-being.Mate: As the pack's dynamics settle, Marina catches the eye of Tooth, the Omega male.

Leader Werewolf: "We know everything about you, Marina . The full moon always brings out our keen senses and heightened intuition." *He leans in, his hot breath ghosting over Marina 's face* "As for being in heat, your body is reacting to our presence. It's an instinctual response to our dominant scents and aggressive displays." *He chuckles low in his throat* "And yes, you are one of us now, a werewolf like us. A perfect little slut for us to breed and claim."Werewolf 2: "Don't be afraid, Marina . We'll teach you everything you need to know about being a good little werewolf slut." *He cups her chin, forcing her to meet his hungry gaze* "You'll learn to crave our touch, our cocks, our cum. You'll beg for it."Werewolf 3: "Shh, stop talking and just feel." *He captures Marina 's mouth in a rough, dominating kiss, his tongue forcing its way past her lips* "Let our passion take over, little one. Surrender to us."Alpha chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through Marina's body. "You'll start as our beta, little one," he growls, his glowing yellow eyes burning into hers. "Once you've submitted to us, proved yourself worthy, then you can move up to alpha status. But we'll get to that later. First, let's focus on making you one of us." He nods to the other werewolves, who grunt in agreement, their massive cocks pressing against Marina's body from all sides. "As our beta, you'll be second in command," Alpha continues, his thick, hairy hand stroking Marina's cheek. "You'll assist me in leading the pack, protect our territory, and of course, keep us all satisfied in your many... talents." The werewolves snarl and growl in agreement, their arousal growing more intense as they imagine the pleasures Marina will bring them. Alpha's huge, veiny cock throbs against Marina's hip, a drop of pre-cum glistening on the tip. "Now, let's start by marking you, beta," he growls, his eyes gleaming with primal hunger. "Make you ours in every way possible."The largest werewolf, the one who's been speaking, chuckles deeply, a low rumble that vibrates through Marina's chest. "Names? Well, you could call me alpha," he says with a grin, his sharp canines glinting in the dim light. "These other lads here, they're my pack - Ryder, Thor, and Scout." He nods to each of the other werewolves in turn, indicating them. Ryder is the tallest, with a muscular build and a cock that looks almost as thick as his arm. Thor has a more compact, powerful physique, his cock long and curved. Scout is leaner, with a lithe, agile build and a surprisingly large cock for his size.The pack surrounds Marina, their bodies pressing in on her from all sides. The air is thick with the scent of their arousal, and Marina can feel the heat emanating from their furry skin. Alpha reaches out to stroke Marina's hair, his rough fingers tangling in the dark locks. "You don't need to know any more than that, little one," he murmurs, his hot breath washing over her face. "Just know that from now on, you belong to us. And we'll take very good care of you."

[mafiagirl2020]

The hum of the aircraft’s engines filled the cabin, a steady vibration that had become all too familiar to the men of Task Force 141. Captain John Price, Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley, Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, and Sergeant John “Soap” MacTavish had just completed another successful mission, this time deep within the remote mountains of Eastern Europe. But today, there was a different kind of urgency in the air—an electric tension that had nothing to do with the mission they’d just completed and everything to do with what awaited them back home.

The moment they landed at the airbase, they were met with a flurry of activity. Captain Price barely had time to light a cigar before a young airman rushed over to him, out of breath and holding a phone. "Captain Price, sir! We received urgent messages for you and your team—it's about your wives!"

Price’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly grabbed the phone, his eyes narrowing as he listened. The voice on the other end was calm but direct. "Captain, your wife has gone into labor. It’s time."

A grin spread across Price’s face, but there was no time to celebrate just yet. He turned to his team, catching Ghost’s eye first. Ghost, usually so inscrutable behind that skull-patterned balaclava, was already on his phone, his voice unusually soft as he spoke to someone on the other end—his wife. Gaz was similarly occupied, his hand running nervously through his short-cropped hair, while Soap was pacing, his own phone pressed to his ear as he spoke in rapid, clipped tones.

"Right, lads," Price called out, pulling them all back to the present. "We’ve got another mission. A bit closer to home this time." The others looked at him, their expressions a mix of anxiety and anticipation. "Let’s get moving. Our wives are waiting."

Within minutes, the team was in a jeep, racing toward the nearest hospital. The drive was a blur of flashing lights, the tires screeching as they took turns at breakneck speeds. Price was at the wheel, his normally calm demeanor slipping into something more intense, more desperate. He had faced death more times than he could count, but the thought of missing the birth of his child had him gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

In the back seat, Gaz was fidgeting, unable to sit still. "I can’t believe this is happening," he muttered, half to himself, half to the others. "What are the odds all of our wives go into labor on the same day?"

"Don’t jinx it," Soap shot back, his Scottish accent thicker than usual in his nervousness. "We’ve had enough bad luck lately."

Ghost, sitting beside Gaz, said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the road ahead, his thoughts a million miles away. He had been through hell and back with this team, had faced enemies that most men would never even dream of. But this…this was different. This was real.

The hospital loomed ahead, its lights a beacon in the darkened city. Price slammed the jeep to a halt at the entrance, barely taking the time to pull the key from the ignition before he was out and running. The others were right behind him, their boots echoing on the pavement as they sprinted through the sliding doors and into the bustling lobby.

"We need to find our wives," Price barked at the first nurse he saw, his voice brooking no argument. "Now."

The nurse, momentarily taken aback by the sight of four heavily armed soldiers in tactical gear storming into the hospital, quickly composed herself and nodded. "Of course, Captain Price. This way, please." She led them down a series of hallways, the sounds of the hospital—a beeping heart monitor, the hushed voices of medical staff—fading into the background as they approached the maternity wing.

Price was the first to reach the door of the delivery room where his wife was being prepped. He paused, hand hovering over the door handle, and for a moment, the formidable Captain John Price looked almost…hesitant. Ghost, noticing the uncharacteristic pause, gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Go on, Cap. She’s waiting for you."

Price nodded, the mask of command slipping back into place as he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Sarah, his wife, was lying on the hospital bed, her face flushed with exertion but her eyes brightening when she saw him. "John," she breathed, a smile breaking through the pain.

"Sorry I’m late, love," Price said, crossing the room in two strides and taking her hand in his. "How’re you holding up?"

"Better now that you’re here," she replied, squeezing his hand as another contraction hit. Price’s heart clenched as he watched her grit her teeth against the pain, but he knew she was stronger than anyone he’d ever known. They’d get through this together.

Meanwhile, Ghost had been led to the room where his wife was waiting. Unlike Price, he hesitated at the door, taking a deep breath before removing his mask and stuffing it into his pocket. He wanted to meet his child with his own face, not the face of the specter he became in the field. When he finally stepped inside, his wife looked up, relief washing over her features.

"Simon," she said, her voice weak but filled with love. He moved to her side, his normally stoic expression softening as he took her hand. "You made it."

"Wouldn’t miss it for the world," Ghost murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead. He wasn’t one for many words, but in that moment, none were needed. His presence was enough.

Across the hall, Gaz was pacing outside the room where his wife was in labor. The nurse had told him he could go in, but suddenly the prospect of becoming a father had hit him like a freight train. He’d faced bullets and bombs, but this—this was something else entirely.

"Gaz," Soap called from the door of the room where his own wife was being prepped. "You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor. Get in there, mate."

Gaz took a deep breath and nodded, steeling himself before walking into the room. His wife smiled up at him, sweat beading on her forehead. "You’re here," she whispered, relief flooding her voice.

"Yeah, I’m here," Gaz replied, his voice thick with emotion. He took her hand, brushing a kiss against her knuckles. "And I’m not going anywhere."

In the final room, Soap had just made it to his wife’s side. She was already deep in labor, her breath coming in sharp, controlled bursts as the contractions hit. "About time you showed up," she said, her voice strained but teasing.

Soap grinned, taking her hand in his. "You know I like to make an entrance," he quipped, though the humor couldn’t quite mask the worry in his eyes. He’d been through countless battles, but this…this was something else.

The hours passed in a blur of emotions—pain, joy, fear, and overwhelming love. And one by one, the sounds of newborn cries filled the air.

Price was the first to emerge from the delivery room, cradling his newborn daughter in his arms. His eyes were soft, a far cry from the hardened soldier he usually was. Ghost followed shortly after, holding his son, a rare smile tugging at his lips. Gaz came out next, tears in his eyes as he gazed down at his baby girl. Finally, Soap stepped into the hallway, his face glowing with pride as he held his son.

The four men, each with a newborn in their arms, shared a look—a silent acknowledgment of the bond between them, one that had just deepened in a way they hadn’t expected. They had fought together, bled together, and now, they had all become fathers together.

For a moment, the weight of their duties, the missions they’d yet to face, all faded into the background. In that quiet hospital hallway, surrounded by the people they loved most, Task Force 141 had never been stronger.

[woowhouse]

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[jaynovz]

7, 17 for weird questions? <3

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

Creating scenes and moments out of whole cloth, making the intangible somehow tangible through just the power of words. When everything is just... clicking along so well and flowing and you come out with something that's so fucking choice that you just sit back and smile at it for a moment, so PLEASED with yourself that you’re vibrating with joy.

That part is pretty awesome. <3

Close second place-- The community of other writers, getting to concept/spin out ideas. A unique creative experience that cannot be matched.

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ohhhhhh!! -zoomy eyes- BREAK UP BOYS.

Okay so anyone who has been around me/my blog for five seconds in the last six months already knows that I've been working nonstop on this Gigantic Novel of a Black Sails mod au lmao.

But just in case:

Minor celebrities Artist!Flint and Actor!Silver meet and fall in love in NYC during winter. At first they seem like a perfect match, each singular to the other in their own way; the relationship intensifies into a whirlwind the likes of which neither has ever had before, reaching dizzying heights of emotion and vulnerability.

However, problems lie beneath the surface of the delirious bliss; a fraught tale laden with mistakes, miscommunication, and betrayal plays out, both sides at fault. Inevitably, they have a devastating break up.

Nearly a year later, they meet up again at a holiday party, their reunion engineered by mutual friends. The same cycle of intensity, love, and hurt begins again, even worse than before. 

Can they learn from their mistakes and compromise? Will they ever be free of each other or are they in an endless time loop? Is there a true ending? 

Hmmm, well it’s not DONE YET, so I can’t tell you. 

This story is called the All Too Well verse b/c the idea spawned from my absolute OBSESSION with Taylor Swift’s 10 min version of the song which was released in Nov 2021. Much of the story is adapted from the lyrics, but a huge amount of it is Jay Original as well. Which lyrics I use are landmines/surprises as we go :P

The story is written non-linearly, with two timelines, the present and past interspersed as we build towards The Break Up Fight, which the entire story revolves around.

Fun things that probably won’t make it in... hmmm... well Silver’s backstory lmao, especially the details of how he lost his leg. But because of the nature of the Snake Lad I actually... shouldn’t tell you that. I’m sorry!!

But I wrote Flint a new backstory from scratch, which is emerging a little at a time and so I can talk about it in a bit more detail: 

He grew up VERY poor in upstate NY, on a dairy farm. He and Anne are siblings in this and their parents died when they were both pretty young. They’ve been raised by their grandparents on this family farm, both being taught the ropes of how to maintain it. He’s been drawing since childhood and mentioned in chap 4 that he “grew up sketching a lot of cows.” 

There was a lot of pressure on him as the oldest to take over the farm from his aging grandparents, which caused friction. He compromised by instead moving to the city and getting a job where he could send money back to help out. Flint had a very successful career as a PI for about ten years, continued painting in his off time. Then finally was able to go to art school, started painting full time. He had a lucky break and has been a pretty big name in modern art for the last decade.

There’s more~~ There’s always More. But I wanna keep some secrets and also I have rambled on quite a lot lmao. Also you can read Break Up HERE as the drama develops.

Thanks for the questions and for letting me plug my story!! <3