#but i am sore and tired and don't want to do that either

[dyrewrites]

My brain has decided it doesn't want to write.

I've been feverishly writing this thing for over a month, it has fourteen chapters and almost 70k words and these men have infected my brain-goo to the point where I am almost constantly thinking about them.

But two days in a row now I can't write. I can write notes but I don't want to write notes.

I want to write about them eating a man in an alleyway after buying supplies for their new crew, arguing over how best to manage their crew, and the big climactic final target of Lucient's vengeance before they have to run away from every single type of authority there is and spend the remainder of their first century together in hiding--and the cheesy, romantic gesture Ludovico sets up for Lucient's birthday.

I can write none of those things. For the brain says no.

Hands wont let me art either.

The hell am I supposed to do with this. =/

[amplexadversary]

.

[subbmissivesuccubus]

No Nut November ~

a/n. A request by my Patron for the month of November! It was quite the fun one. If you'd like me to write a story for you, please consider joining my Patreon! (link in bio)

Contains : Toji X Fem reader. No nut November antics. Toji being horny. Reader being a tease.

"Fuck-" you cursed, panting heavily as you lied back on the bed, finally getting a break. Your partner, Toji, lied down next to you, half as tired but just as satisfied. He hummed as his muscled relaxed, hot and sweaty from the numerous rounds of sex, completely naked as he got comfortable enough to drift into sleep.

You couldn’t help but frown at him, a bit annoyed at his satisfied and content expression while your body was crying from the over-stimulation. He had taken you over and over and over again, his stamina seemingly never ending as he fucked you multiple times in multiple positions. Even when you complained that you couldn’t take it anymore, he claimed that he’d make you take it. And after he pumped you with several loads of cum, he finally called it a night.

"You- you're such a horndog." you said. The man chuckled, manhandling you to get closer to him, placing you on his chest before giving you a sweet kiss on your hair. “You love it.” He teased, giving your butt a greedy squeeze, making you flinch as he touched the bright red mark he had left on your cheek before. 

This was your routine. Toji and you would go to work, you'd come back home, have dinner together before he took you to the bedroom and gave you the most toe curling, back arching, pussy squirting pleasure you'd ever experienced. The man had a huge dick and a ton of stamina, not going soft unless he's cum multiple times.

And it's amazing it truly is.

But after a while...it becomes a lot. There's only so many times your pussy can take a pounding before she gets sore and it starts to hurt even when you sit down. There's only so many times your nipples can get suckled on before any friction, even from your bra, makes them ache. There's only so many times you can wear a turtleneck before people connect the dots. You tried to say so to Toji, letting him know of your trouble but he either laughed it off, took is as a compliment and continued to fuck you silly regardless.

His desire for you and his constant want to have his hands on you was a big ego boost, but you needed a break and you figured out the perfect way to do it.

“Have you heard of something called No Nut November?” Toji snorted, looking down at you amused, “Sounds stupid. I’m guessing it means you don’t cum in all of November?” “Exactly. It’s an internet challenge. Think you can do it?” He chuckled again, not taking it seriously, “I have a beautiful girlfriend who I can fuck on a daily basis- why would I give that up for a dumb internet challenge?” “Hmm, thought so.” You said, acting unimpressed as you poked his nose, “There's no way you can keep your hands off of me for a month. You don't have the self-control. Why am I not surprised?"

Now, Toji knew what you were doing. You were baiting him, plain and simple. And was he going to fall for it? Of course not... but he didn’t like your tone.

"Wanna bet on that?" he asked.

You tried not to grin, the man falling for your trap hook, line and sinker. There was no way a man as proud as him would not rise to the challenge just to prove you wrong.

“Fine. From tomorrow until the end of December, you can’t cum.” You said, “That means no sex and no jerking off. If you fail, I get to decide when we have sex for at least a month.”

“And if I win, you are going to be my little sex doll I can fuck whenever I want with no complaints.” Toji challenged. You scoffed, more than confident that he wouldn’t be able to do it.

“Deal!”

~~~~~

One week had gone by and it was already hell. Toji had to will himself to not drag you into the bedroom every night, the condescending smirk on your face actually giving him motivation to keep going. Ever since he started dating you, sex was a common and daily occurrence so to have it taken away was difficult for him to navigate but he could do this. He was an adult with self-control and he wasn’t a horny teenager who needed to get their rocks off all the time.

But during week two, he wondered if he truly had the self-control he thought he did.

You were not making it easy for him, oh no. You were a naughty little minx and once Toji went by one week with no sex, you realised you needed to make him break. Whether it was make-out sessions with a bit more tongue than you normally use, or ‘forgetting’ to lock the door while you showered so he’d walk in on you naked, or going to bed in nothing but his oversized t-shirt, or asking him to give you a massage and letting out sweet, filthy little moans as he worked out the knots. These small things were piling up, riling the man up even more to the point where in a sweet kiss from you would make his dick hard. You were good. But he wasn’t giving up.

But neither were you. And you decided to ramp it up for week 3.

“…And what are you doing?” Toji asked, looking you up and down and undressing you with his eyes. You were standing by the bedroom door, looking absolutely stunning in a lingerie piece he hadn’t seen before. It was a beautiful lace red piece, the underwear framing your body deliciously. Your tits, your stomach, your ass and the heaven between your legs- all the blood instantly went to his cock just by looking at you.

“Tojiiii~” you cooed, walking over towards him, your hips swaying seductively as you reached him. He was sitting against the headboard of the bed, idly scrolling through his phone but the random video he was watching was all but forgotten as you crawled between his legs. Your tits were practically swinging in front of his face as you straddled him, the man unable to deny you as he placed a hand on your waist, running his fingers over the soft lace.

“I’m so horny, Toji~” you cooed, rubbing your hand up and down his covered chest, “I need you.”

“Nice try.” The man responded, snorting as he flicked your forehead with his other hand, making you gasp, “I know your game here, little minx. You’re not getting me to fuck you.”

“How mean.” You said, pouting adorably and showing off the lip gloss you had put on, “If you’re not interested, then this can probably go on past November-“ “Not a chance.” Toji growled, gripping your waist so tightly it made you gasp, “You know I’m owning that pussy once this month is up. So be a good girl and wait.” “Wait?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow, “Why do I have to wait? I’m not doing the stupid challenge.” You smiled at the way Toji’s eyes followed you as you got off of him, bending over in front of him as you reached for a familiar drawer in the bedside table.

“Just because you’re not going to fuck me doesn’t mean I can’t have fun~” you said, holding up your favorite wand vibrator as well as a thick, vibrating dildo. “It’s not as big as you, but it’s good enough~”

  What proceeded was the worst yet best night of Toji’s life. He watched as you pleasured yourself, your sweet moans echoing through the room as you fucked yourself with your toys. With the vibrator rubbing your clit and the dildo sliding in and out of your pussy, you practically gave him a private show. Your lingerie was still on your body but pulled aside to expose your breasts and your cunt, making you look so delicious he just couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He didn’t dare to touch himself as he helped you along with your session, growling dirty things into your ear as he took over and fucked your cunt with the dildo, working it way better than you could yourself, groaning in delight as he suckled on your nipples as he drove you over the edge.

His dick was so hard it felt like it would explode. But he wouldn’t budge. He wanted to- God he wanted to- but he was going to stay strong. The reward he’d get for sticking with this at the end of the month would feel way better than the momentary pleasure he’d get from rubbing one out. So he stayed strong. Days went by, feeling longer and longer and your antics growing more and more bold. Your masturbation sessions were happening often, you were walking around the house in skimpy clothing, he’d wake up and find that you had ‘accidentally somehow fallen asleep with your face close to his cock’ but try as you might, you couldn’t break him.

He increased the ice-cold showers. He took longer working hours to distract himself. He fingered you so he could remind you of how good he was going to take you once the month was up. Hell, he even took up meditation to try and ease the tension in his body. And finally. Finally. After all that hard work- he made it.

He did it. He actually did it.

He was on the last day of November.

A full month of no sex. No pleasure. No jacking off. His cock hurt and his balls ached so badly, dying for some release and he couldn't wait to get it. Tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, he was going to take you and pound the shit out of you- fucking you so hard you won't be able to walk for days. He made sure you knew it too. Throughout the day, he was whispering filth to you, growling in your ear and palming his cock in front of you, loving the blush on your face as he detailed all the bad and naughty things he was going to do to you tonight. There was no doubt you felt defeated and after this, he was going to break and punish you.

Just an hour. He could do this. He was going to do this!

He was lounging on the couch of the living room, not focusing on what was on the TV as his mind was occupied with lust when he saw you walk out of their bedroom and upto him.

"How do I look?" you asked, twirling around so he could see your outfit. It was a cute short dress with a pair of leggings and he hummed in approval.  

"You going out?" he asked.

"Yup!" you said, suddenly dragging a suitcase from behind you, "I’m going to my parents’ house."

Toji raised his eyebrows, his eyes widening. What?

What?

"Excuse me?" he asked, watching as you dragged your suitcase over to the door.

"Sorry, I forgot to mention it before." you said casually, clearly ignoring the expression on his face, "Last minute plan- you know how it is."

"Bullshit." the man snarled, walking upto you before slamming his hands on the wall behind you, caging you, "You're just trying to fuck with me, aren't you?"

"Whatever do you mean?" you asked, a curious tilt in your tone which told Toji all he needed to know, "I just miss home and I know you have a busy workday tomorrow so I didn’t think you’d want to come. That’s not a problem, is it? I’ll only be there for a week.”

“A week-“ Toji growled, nails digging into his fist as he still cornered you against the wall, “You’re not fucking serious.”

You shrugged, faking innocence, “I mean, is there any reason I shouldn’t go? I have a few days off from work and my mom has been begging me to come by someday. The train leaves in…” you checked your watch, ignoring Toji’s scoffs at your audacity, “thirty minutes. So I better get going-“

“You’re not going anywhere you little brat!” Toji snarled, his patience snapping. There was no way in hell he was going to let you leave and have you been gone for a week. He was confident you were just bluffing but he was not taking that change. With a growl, he bent down and threw you over his shoulder, making you yelp as you were suddenly held upside down. He gave you butt a sharp spank, a slap so hard it made you forget how to breathe for a second before he stormed towards the bedroom.

“Wh- what about the bet?” you asked once he threw you onto the bed, Toji immediately getting undressed as he practically ripped his shirt off.

“Fuck the bet.” He said, grabbing you by the ankles before he pulled you towards him, a feral look in his eyes as he fisted the fabric of your tights, “Fuck No Nut November. And fuck you.”

You gasped as he started tearing apart your tights, the fabric ripping away like paper as all he could think about was fucking you. You could see the imprint of his cock straining against his sweatpants, you man already hot and bothered and eager. Your heart was beating fast in your chest, the excitement over-riding the fact that you were going to win the bet. Once the tights were torn enough and before you could even get a second to complain, he flipped you onto your stomach.

He slid your panties to the side, so desperate for you that he couldn’t be bothered to properly undress you before he grabbed two greedy handfuls of your ass. You mewled under him as he squeezed, the man spreading your cheeks apart before he dove in, face first. You yelped as Toji took a long, rough lick of your pussy, the familiar sensation something you truly missed since the start of the bet. You gasped and moaned as he started feasting on your cunt, his thick tongue sliding into you and working you open, your pussy slowly getting wet for him.

Toji growled against you, the vibration making you feel even better as he got you hot and bothered. His cock was so hard it was genuinely hurting him, the sensation of your pussy against his tongue and the taste of your sweet nectar making him go into overdrive. But even your pussy wasn’t going to make him forget how you pissed him off.

“Mmph- this isn’t for you- got it?” he snarled, smacking your ass once to get your attention, “I’m getting this cunt wet enough to fuck my fat cock deep inside you. I don’t care if you feel good and I don’t give a shit if you cum or not- you’ve gotten enough of that this month.”

“Don’t be- ah- mean.” You protested, gasping as he suddenly pulled away from you and flipped you onto your back again. “Oh, I haven’t even gotten started.” Toji said as he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it up harshly, also not caring to take it off completely. All he wanted was access to your tits and once he pulled your bra upto your chin, he got what he wanted. “You’ll see just how mean I can be.”

He took a nipple into his mouth before you could say anything, not wanting to hear anything out of your lips unless it was moans, cries or apologies. He slid his fingers into your panties, his thick digits sliding between your damp pussy lips, the slick sound of the contact echoing through the air. Despite the attitude, he knew you missed him too. Dildos just didn’t compare to him.

He slid a finger inside you, the glide easy due to your wetness as he slowly but thoroughly started stretching you out for his cock. Your fingers were in his hair, tugging at it harshly as he suckled on your nipple, his tongue twirling the sensitive bud around before he bit down, making you yelp from the pain. You rocked your hips against his fingers, arching your back as he slid a second one inside you before scissoring you open just how you like it.

“Fuck- good enough.” Toji said, separating from your nipple (which he indeed sucked raw) and gently taking his fingers out of you. He knelt between your legs after he gave you a quick peck on the lips, pushing his pants down to reveal his cock. Your eyes widened at the sight, your pussy throbbing as you gazed at the member you practically hadn’t seen all month. It was rock hard and twitching, precum leaking out of the tip that was so red, you wondered if it would burn your tongue if you sucked on it. His balls were always big and heavy and you didn’t know if the time apart muddled your memory a bit but you swore, they were somehow bigger.

  “Spread those fucking legs- show me that pussy.” Toji said, gripping his cock before he started tapping it against your cunt, purposefully targeting your clit and making you tremble from each hit, “Look at that. So needy and dripping even though you fucked yourself on that dildo every other night.”

He spat on your pussy, making you gasp at the vile action but it made your cunt gush even more. He truly was using you like he owned you. His cockhead rubbed at the glob of saliva that was trailing down your cunt before he finally, finally pressed it against your entrance.

“I won’t last long, but I don’t care.” Toji said, rocking his hips lightly as he teased your hole, “You’re here to be my cum dump. You’re here for my pleasure, got it?”

You couldn’t help but he bratty even though every fibre of your being wanted to beg the man to just fuck you already: “Enjoy it since I’m winning this bet~” “Oh, are you sure about that?”

You frowned at his words before your eyes widened and you looked over at the clock to see that…it was midnight. November was officially over. And you had lost.

“That- ah!” you screamed loudly as Toji plunged his cock into you, his girth splitting apart your wet, velvet walls as he pushed into your cunt. He laughed as he got inside you, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt your pussy wrap around him, that sweet, amazing feeling of your walls squeezing him greedily. He grabbed your legs by the back of your knees before pushing them upto your chest, catching you in a mating press, driving his cock deep, deep inside you.

“Fuck! Fuck- fuck!” you squealed, the whiplash from realizing you lost to the sensation of your cunt being stuffed full for the first time in a month making your head spin, “I thought- you- fuck!” “Nice try baby.” Toji snarled, body trembling as he got to feel your cunt again, his balls already threatening to spill his seed inside you, “But you’re going to have to try harder- fuck yes- if you wanna beat me~”

He lifted his hips up and thrust into you again, both of you moaning as he stuffed his cock deep inside your delicious cunt. He started picking up the pace, the nasty sound of his balls clapping against your ass was music to his ears as he started using you. This was for him.

“You’re my toy now, understand?” he asked, tightening his hold on your legs and keeping you nice and folded for him, “my sweet little fuck toy that I’m going to use to break every. Single. Fucking. Night!” he thrust harshly at each word, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt his cock deliciously slide inside you, truly owning you. You hated to admit it, but you were secretly happy he won. As he pounded into you, you couldn’t help but remember how torturous this month was for you as well.

Sore pussy be damned, you were too addicted to Toji to give him up.

And while you swore you had more time before midnight struck, you were too cock drunk to think about it. Which was good for Toji as he thought ahead and might have changed the timing on the clock to make it a touch faster. But what you didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt you and by the time he was done with you, you’d forget how to count anyway.

[shu-porang-porang]

Told You So

Another fluff rant inspired by Minho’s photos but there are no names mentioned so you can imagine whoever you want.

Pairs: (your bias name) / reader (gender not specified)

Theme: Tooth rotting fluff

Warnings: I don't think there's any, but let me know if I should include sth

Word count: 0.9 k

You warned him that it was really cold outside, but your cocky boyfriend believed too much in his invincibility that he shrugged it off with a “I’ll be fine babe” as he closed the door behind him.

Not long after the consequences of his action caught up with him and now he’s mewling in fever. You really wanna tease him with a “told you so” but he already knew he deserves that phrase and it was evident as he obediently accepted to visit a doctor, of course as long as you accompanied him.

You come back from the doctor’s office with medicine and groceries you picked up on the way home. He sits down on the edge of your shared bed, reluctant to change his clothes. You can’t see his lips behind the mask but the rest of his face tells you he’s pouting. He’s such a baby when he gets sick, so you offer to help him change. You take his hat off and unwrap the scarf from around his neck, then unzip his jacket and pull the sleeves off his arms. You bring him a warm comfy set of pajamas and help him into it. You reach to take his mask off too but he stops you.

“No, leave it be. Don’t wanna get you sick.”

“Oh it’s fine, you had the germs before the symptoms showed up. I either already got them or am immune to them.”

You tell him half-jokingly, trying to make him feel less guilty but he wouldn’t budge. You shrug and turn to go cook him some soup. He tugs at your sleeve, preventing you to leave.

“Don’t leave me, please.” He whines.

“Honey, I’m not going anywhere, just wanna cook you some soup so you’ll get healthy faster!”

You internally laugh at how you’re talking to him as if he’s a child, and how he is acting like a child.

“Then I’ll come with you.”

“Okay? Suit yourself.”

He follows you to the kitchen. All the while you’re cooking, he’s lifelessly sitting on a chair, with his head on the table, following your actions silently with his eyes. You occasionally ask him how he’s feeling, or if he wants some juice to which he replies with barely audible hums. His throat is sore so he’s trying to use it as little as possible. When you’re done with preparing the ingredients and now you just gotta wait till it's ready, you sit beside him, holding his hand in yours. He seems so fragile and feeble in this state.

“Jagya, why won’t you take a lil’ nap till the soup is ready? I can see your eyes are pretty tired.” You say as you place soft kisses on his knuckles. You reach with your free hand to brush through his locks, he closes his eyes as it soothes him.

“Only if you come with me to bed.” His voice already sounds sleepy.

“Okay baby, let’s go.” you can't help but comply with your needy boyfriend.

He gets up and immediately holds onto you for balance, his head is so fuzzy with fever his movements are uncoordinated. You’re starting to worry about his condition. At first you thought he was acting too sick to get pampered by you, but now you’re realizing he is indeed fatigued and helpless. You help him to the bed and tuck him in, then lie beside him on your side, your eyes fixed on his face in search of any sign of discomfort.

“Why you staring like that? I’m just sick, not dying.”

And that’s the first time in your relationship with him that you think of losing him to death. Your eyes are quickly welled up by stinging tears. You don’t want to stress him so you slide down and press your forehead to the side of his arm, so he can’t see your eyes, while trying to blink the tears away.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, just thought you might fall asleep easier if I get closer to you…” you say as you entangle your fingers with his.

“I’d love that, but you get sick, move.”

“I’d love that, but I’m only moving closer.”

You lift your head up, catching his baffled expression. He watches you as you plant kisses on his clothed chest, going up to his collar bone and then neck. He tries to push you away but you easily overcome his weak resistance. He holds his hand up before his face, but that doesn’t stop you either. You kiss his palm, then the soft pads of his fingers and he finally gives up. You kiss his forehead and you sense his fever has lowered compared to a few hours ago.

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“I wanna kiss them too.”

“Don’t be weird!” he chuckles lightly.

“I’m not being weird; it’s called showing affection silly! Has no one ever loved you before?”

“Not like this…”

He closes his eyes as requested and you can eventually kiss them. You move on to kiss his cheeks next and when the annoying mask gets in your way, you don’t hesitate to finally remove it. He knows he can’t win with you, so he just lets you do as you wish. You kiss his soft cheeks; his skin feels more tender and you treat it like it’s made of glass. You can’t resist to kiss his lips, why would you, whatever he has, you have, you can’t care. Worst case scenario, he’ll later tell you “told you so”.

[l0v3tast3]

Older!pervy!boyfriend!price was sooo vfhdhshsg. I loved it.

But he would probably 100% get you pregnant. And whisk you awy from your parents.

god DAMN you anons are gonna kill me you just keep coming up with better and better ideas (☆ω☆) also uwu thank you anon im glad you liked it :3 <<333

obviously, you can't blame the man for wanting kids. plenty of people do, plenty of people don't, and there's nothing wrong with either. so when he watches you coo at a baby that you pass by while out walking together, you shouldn't be surprised that as soon as you're back home john is pressing your legs into your chest to dig his cock that much deeper into you.

he's like a man possessed; you'll end up a babbling mess, weakly pushing at his chest and scratching at his arms, trying desperately to form the words to ask him for a break. john bends down to kiss your drool-covered lips and wipe away the tears of overstimulation from your cheeks. he murmurs soothingly that you're doing so good, that you'll look so beautiful with his baby, that he'll take such good care of everything, such good care of you.

john's hips slow their assault on yours and melt into a near-hypnotizing rock back and forth as a way of giving you a break. "already so gorgeous, how am i gonna handle you carrying my child, hm? y'think you're already pregnant, darling? mm, i know you're tired, i know sweetheart, we just gotta make sure. jus' one more, promise, bein' such a good girl f'me."

of course it's not "just one more". never mind the fact that he's in his late thirties and most men his age would have probably pulled several muscles by now. never mind the fact that he's cumming in you, buried as deep as he possibly can be inside you for the fourth time that night. none of that matters because the image of your belly round and your tits swollen and heavy with milk, you asking him for help because they're just so sore makes him feel drunk.

and sure enough, a couple weeks later when your period is late, the pregnancy test you take with a shaking leg comes up positive. john nearly cries from happiness when you tell him; he's over the moon, pretty much worshipping you, raining kisses all over your face and neck and hugging you and promising you everything you'd ever want and need. your parents don't take it nearly as well, so you end up moving in with him, to his even greater delight (he's already setting up the nursery by the time you manage to get all your stuff out of your old room).

john damn near makes the call to take a leave of absence before you even take the test, no doubt about it. he makes good on his promises and gets you everything you even mention you're thinking about (sometimes you think he's psychic because he'll get stuff you like before you even say anything about it). you'll never have to lift a finger. he claims it's so you don't hurt the baby, but he's literally taking plates out of your hands to put back in the cupboards when you're still in your first trimester.

when you start showing, john just goes fucking crazy. of course he restrains himself, but thank god your hormones are making you more horny too because the physical proof of you growing his child, your belly swelling and your breasts steadily growing heavier makes him feel like a teenager discovering porn again, constantly fucking horny for you.

tl;dr, john price will breed you literally as soon as you even give a hint of wanting/liking kids

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Do I? - Beau Simpson x Reader

a/n: I've been wanting to write for Beau for a while (I love Jon Hamm and this is a hill I am willing to die on), so here's my first one for him. Inspired loosely by Do I? by Luke Bryan.

pairing: Beau Simpson x reader

warnings/content: angst to fluff, mentions of divorce if you squint, Beau being kinda soft, allusions to smut, allusions to child ab*se, Beau doesn't always know how to show his emotions but damn it he tries his best.

word count: 1.9k

taglist: @nouis-bum, @jessicab1991, @b-bradshaw, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld

Do I turn you on at all when I kiss you, baby? Does the sight of me wanting you drive you crazy? Do I have your love? Am I still enough? Tell me don't I? Or tell me, do I, baby Give you everything that you ever wanted? Would you rather just turn away and leave me lonely? Do I just need to give up and get on with my life? Tell me, baby do I get one more try?

Beau grumbled as he walked through the door, his keys dropping into the catch-all dish on the table with a clatter. His brows knit together as he looked around the room, searching for any sign of you being home. His tired blue-green eyes blinked as he raked a hand over his face, trying to wake himself up as he searched the house for you. Calling your name to no response, he furrowed his brow as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He frowned as he saw there were zero missed calls and zero missed messages from you, a sign that you were truly mad at him this time. 

He let out an exhausted sigh as he slumped into the armchair in the living room, picking up a discarded baseball your son had forgotten to put away and rolling it in his hands, over his fingers and back as his mind ran over the events that unfolded that morning.

He hadn’t meant to be cold towards you or Dylan. He’d been stressed and overworked, struggling with an upcoming mission that he had to plan out, trying to ensure the right team was put together for the job. Combing through dozens of personnel files until his eyes were sore, staying up all hours of the night trying to create an action plan, briefing notes - he rarely left base anymore. He knew you’d felt neglected, and God, he hated making you feel that way. He hated that you felt unwanted, unloved, and yet, you did everything you could to still make life easier for him. He knew he didn’t deserve that. In fact, he knew he didn’t deserve you–your patience, your understanding, your love and affection. He didn’t deserve to be Dylan’s father either, not that he’d been a particularly good one anyway. 

Dylan had a baseball tournament coming up, and you’d asked Beau if he’d be able to make it. Dylan’s team had never been invited to play before, but they’d managed to make it to a statewide tournament, teams from all over California would be there with their children, ages 8-10. The Coronado Crowns were having a record season, and Dylan had begun to emerge as their star pitcher. When you’d asked him about it, he’d had a dozen other things on his mind - he couldn’t even remember you mentioning it in the first place, if he was honest. He figured he’d hummed along in response, not hearing what you’d said, but not wanting to give off the impression he wasn’t listening. 

Unaware of what he’d agreed to, Beau bounded down the stairs this morning, his footsteps heavy as he headed to the kitchen. He was running late, and barely had time to have coffee with you, but he was determined to at least kiss you good morning before heading out the door. You’d frowned at him when you saw him in uniform, and immediately, his mind began to race, running through a list of scenarios that could have upset you. He wasn’t the most romantic husband - he knew that, but he was sure he’d never forgotten an anniversary or a birthday. It wasn’t until Dylan came down in his baseball uniform, his duffel bag packed for the four-day tournament slung over his shoulder. His face fell as he looked at Beau, an instant wave of guilt washing over Beau’s face.

“I’m sorry, I forgot, buddy, listen, I really have to get this done at work, I have a briefing scheduled for today, I can’t miss it,” Beau had explained, trying to reason with his 9 year old son. 

“I get it, Dad, it’s ok,” Dylan shrugged before sitting down at the breakfast nook for some scrambled eggs. 

“We’re leaving at 10, get to Oakland for about 8 tonight,” you explained, nodding your head as you forced a smile in Dylan’s direction.

Beau let out a frustrated sigh, of course you weren’t home now - you left four hours ago. You were halfway to Oakland by this point. He leaned his head back against the chair, shutting his eyes for a moment as he dragged his hand over his face once more. He knew he’d fucked up. He knew he’d let you both down. He checked his phone again. If he left now, he could probably make it to you and Dylan by 11 if he made minimal stops on his way. He could make this right, he could show up tonight, surprise you - surprise Dylan in the morning when he woke up, spend the weekend being the father and husband he’d failed to be for the last month or so. 

Beau bolted up the stairs, quickly changing out of his uniform and into more relaxed, civilian clothes. He grabbed a bag from the closet and began to shove some clean clothes inside, showing little care about keeping them neat or organized. He headed to the bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant and his razor, tossing them all into the bag in a hurry. Bounding back down the staircase, he stepped into his running shoes and flew out the door with his keys and bag in hand. A well-loved baseball cap from his college days sat in the front seat - a relic he’d meant to bestow to Dylan but forgotten about. He placed the cap on his head, sporting it backwards, just as he would have done 30+ years ago when he got it. 

As he drove down the interstate, he thought about the ways he could apologize to you. His mind ran through all the things you liked, the romantic gestures he’d heard you mention, the different romcom tropes you loved - anything he could think of that could make up for what he’d lacked in as a husband. When he stopped for dinner, pulling into a fast-food restaurant just off the highway, he contemplated what he’d say when you asked him if he was insane, knowing that was exactly how you’d respond to hearing that he drove down after all, determined not to miss a minute of Dylan’s tournament. He thought about how he’d pull you in close, giving you an emblazoned, passionate kiss as he held you in his arms, giving a rare, dramatic, public display of affection. He yawned as he pulled into the parking lot of the hotel you were staying at with Dylan, finding an open spot next to your car. He got out, smiling fondly as he spotted the bedazzled steering wheel cover that he always teased you about - the one he’d begrudgingly bought for your birthday when you’d asked for it, pretending to find it ridiculous when really, he was admiring you for it, for being so unashamedly yourself. It was a quality he was jealous of in you - he’d been brought up in an old-school military family, taught to be seen and not heard, to blend in with everyone else and to remain reserved the majority of the time. He rarely cracked a smile outside of the house, and really, even wearing a baseball cap outside of a Padres game was unlike him. 

He approached the front desk with a look of pure determination on his face, his bag clutched in his hand. Once he made it to your room, he rapped on the door with a gentle knock, trying not to make too much noise in the hopes he didn’t wake Dylan. You opened the door, looking ready to chew out whoever it was knocking for waking you, but your look of anger quickly dissipated as you wrapped your arms around Beau tightly. 

“You flew down here?!” You whispered excitedly, arms draped around his neck.

“No, flights were booked,” Beau shook his head with a chuckle, a soft smile forming on his lips, “I drove.”

“You…you drove?”

“Mhmm, all nine hours. I’m surprised I made it before midnight, I finished my briefing early, managed to get the plans set for the mission, and then got home and realized I had time to fix things with you and Dylan.”

“He’ll be so excited. He was devastated at the thought of you not making it to see him play.”

“Look, I have to talk to you, ok?” He began, shaking his head as he let out an awkward chuckle, frowning as he tried to collect his thoughts.

“I’ve been the worst husband to you. I know I have. I know I’ve made you feel unloved, and unwanted, and unimportant, and I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you feel that way. I’ve never wanted our marriage to be strained over my work, and I know my job is demanding and it’s difficult some days for me to put you and Dylan first - but believe me, I love you two more than anything. You know that, right? And, I know you probably aren’t happy with me - I don’t blame you. I know you probably wanted to divorce me ten minutes ago, and you’re complete right in thinking that - I would have deserved it.”

You pressed your lips to his gently, interrupting his rambling with a soft, tender kiss. He pulled away gently, reaching up to take the baseball cap off of his head before ducking down to kiss you again. He pulled away after a moment, breathless and blissful as he gazed at you.

“So, am I still enough for you? Do you want me to leave or do I get another chance?”

“You’ve always been enough, Beau,” you shook your head, beaming up at him, “Even when you forget commitments and you get caught up with work, or when you don’t always say the right thing, you always make up for it and try to fix things, and that’s one of the things I love about you. You drove nine hours when you realized you couldn’t catch a flight down here because you realized how much it meant to Dylan and I for you to be here. I don’t know many other men who’d drop everything on a dime to do that.”

“I guess that’s true,” he nodded, shaking his head in disbelief before leaning in to kiss your cheek. “I mean it though, I really think you could have done better than a middle-aged Admiral who can’t show his emotions very well and doesn’t know how to prioritze anything correctly.”

“You’re right, I could have, but where’s the fun in that?” You teased, taking the baseball cap from his hand and placing it back on his head, backwards.

“By the way, Beau, you should wear a hat like this more often.” 

“Yeah? You think so?”

You bit your lip seductively, holding back a wicked grin as you looked up at him, nodding your head, “Kinda makes me wanna show you just how much I love you.”

“Dylan’s asleep in here,” he laughed, shaking his head as his cheeks flushed.

“Dylan is sleeping in Ryder’s room, three doors away, actually.”

Beau’s eyes widened slightly, his hands drifting down to your hips. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, turning his head to the side to scan the room, seeing that, you were in fact, alone. When he turned, you caught a glimpse of the salt and pepper streaks that ran through his hair on the side of his head, the sight alone almost enough to make you melt. 

“Well, in that case, let me show you just how sorry I am.” 

[xxsycamore]

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!

╰┈➤ Four times William uses his curse on you to control your orgasms.

William Rex/f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Established Relationship; Orgasm Control; Forced Orgasm; Orgasm Denial; Mind Control; Multiple Orgasms; Aftercare; Gentle Sex; Kink Negotiation; Dirty Talk; Overstimulation; Coming Untouched Enthusiastic Consent Public Sex; Masturbation; Lingerie Strip Tease; Begging Light Dom/sub Dominance; Vaginal Fingering Praise Kink Discipline • wordcount: 2,458 • masterlist

Visions of Temptation 2024/KINKTOBER DAY 4: Orgasm Control

The first time it's brought up, you are both in bed.

Lying on William's naked chest, you bask in the afterglow of hours spent making love to him. He did you so well; the slight soreness of your limbs only serving to emphasize how well he loved you tonight. Getting lost in the endless blood-red pools of his eyes, you draw little patterns around his collarbones, making him chuckle as his own restless hands roam your sides.

"William… I want more…"

Your voice is tiny, despite his countless attempts to make you greedy, to bring out a side of you that would take from him as much as you want to. He gives you a little "Oh?", dripping with that sultry but elegant tone that you simply cannot resist.

"What am I gonna do with you, my little Robin?"

You lower your head, breaking the eye contact for a second as you bury your face into the crook of his neck instead.

"You don't have to do much… I'm still so sensitive all over that I feel I'd come undone if you as much as lay a finger on me…"

William produces another small laughing noise, the sound vibrating close to where your lips linger - the next time you lift your upper body to look at William again, your lips graze his beautiful neck in a chaste kiss. He simply looks at you with interest, probably wondering what else goes on in that head of yours.

"Let's see, then."

Without wasting any time, one of his hands snakes its way down your backside and between your legs. He collects some of your slick, a sweet combination of his and your juices, and reaches further down to play with your clit.

"Mmnh…"

Little sparks of overstimulation run through you, but they do nothing to distract you from the rapidly growing pleasure that William gives to you. Bracing yourself with arms propped up on both sides of his head, you slowly lift your face to look at him - to kiss him, or to tell him you're coming, anything - but as soon as your gaze meets his piercing scarlet one, you simply tip over the edge and come undone on the spot.

William lets you ride out your orgasm, your hips basically humping his fingers as you thrash around; his other hand wrapping around your back to hold you in place, gently. Once your body relaxes and he hears your tired pants, head buried in his neck again, he whispers close to your ear:

"My, did I accidentally use my curse on you? I said nothing, yet it's like you came just from looking into my eyes, little Robin. How sweet."

For a moment both of you remain quiet. William's complex feelings surrounding his ability are a topic you've already had the chance to communicate with him, and you'd assured him you're not afraid of looking into his eyes. Still, it's a sensitive thing to talk about - even if he's the one mentioning it in the first place - you're not sure how to respond, but you don't want to delay your response for too long either.

"It's true that if you were to use it on me like this, it wouldn't be much different, haha… I love your eyes, William."

Oh no, what have you done? Bitting on your bottom lip, you almost jump as his breathy chuckle blows an emission of cool air close to your temples.

"What are you imagining, exactly? Me ordering you to come undone whenever I wish to?"

"T-That's not-!"

"I need to say I'm not opposed to the idea. As long as you are feeling comfortable with me doing this."

There's something akin to butterflies, a fluttering sensation in the pit of your belly, as the fantasy he created for you becomes more and more vivid.

"I… I want you to try…"

William silently caresses your spent body some more, kissing the crown of your head, and then at last he speaks again.

"We can do that tomorrow then, if you still want to. Now get some sleep, my dear."

As if you can sleep after knowing what's to come…

The first time it actually happens, you immediately want it to happen again.

Sprawled across the bed on your back, your fingers dig into the bedsheets on both sides of your body as William rains kisses across your sensitive chest. You both know what's to come, but he's far more collected than you are. He always is. If it weren't for the fact that you know him inside and out, you wouldn't notice the little hints of hesitation in his otherwise precise actions. The way he stops his ministrations the second you start to moan too much, his fingers dipping ever so shallowly inside you. You know well the source of his hesitation, however, and it keeps you relaxed. Rather than questioning the trust you put in him, he's probably wondering… if you're stimulated enough.

"My darling Robin, are you ready to follow my order?"

You find his eyes before he can even finish his question. It says more than your response would say, but you still nod, wet your lips, and answer properly.

"Yes. Please."

It's like diving into the unknown; both for you and for him, almost in a manner that is special to you, to have another first together, to share the feeling of this discovery. You like seeing him like this, a new light behind his eyes, a curiosity that paints his gaze somewhat more playful, youthful.

"Come for me."

A strong current of pleasure zaps through you, like a lightning bolt, a force you cannot stop. Your muscles contract, your walls squeeze around nothing as you ride out an orgasm that is like nothing you've ever felt before.

The concern surrounding his usage of the curse was simple. It's well known that he can control people's minds with it - and while the mind is connected with the body, neither of you can know for sure if the little experiment would be successful. Without an external source of stimulation, it would be very tormenting if your mind was set on to achieve something that is not within its powers. William would have been there for you, should that be the case, fast to assist you in finding your peak so you can execute his curse's order and find peace.

But none of this is needed, because the only thing you're granted with is pure bliss. Like being able to see the sparks of energy passing through your neurons in an absolute spectacle of the senses, you experience great pleasure beyond any other. The reason? Receiving so much direct stimulation without the distraction of being physically touched leaves you with the ability to feel nothing but pleasure. It's mind-blowing.

When you come down from your high, William gazes over you with so much lust in his eyes that you almost get scared. He must have enjoyed the sight.

"My dear… you are…"

"William, please do that to me again! I want to experience it again!"

Surprise blooms on William's face as he stares at you in disbelief. Here he was ready to tend to you should the whole ordeal tire you, overstimulate you in a way, or completely turn you off, or else-

"Come."

In a flash, your torso lifts off the bed, body as tight as a string, almost as if possessed. You don't understand any of how this works, and you don't want to. Without needing to recharge, to build up a new wave of arousal, your body simply obeys and fills itself with nothing but pleasure.

You descend from your peak, but not into the softness of the mattress - rather, it's William who pulls you into his embrace, starved to feel you against him. You can only imagine how much he longs to put his hands on you now, to love you how he knows best.

The first time it catches you off-guard, you're in public.

Exploring this new method of playing with you has become a fixation of William's. He'd tease you in so many ways; commanding you to come even while he's inside you, just to watch how much your pleasure heighens when he completely domineers over your senses like that. The spike in his libido and in his dominance comes as a surprise but you don't want him stopping anytime soon. It's not long before you give him your consent to take this game out of the bedroom, whenever he sees fit. He did it once in the carriage when the two of you were in a hurry, even if it only made the urgency to entangle your limbs that much greater in the end.

With a pause of a day or two since the last time he used his curse on you, it's the ideal period of time to lower your guard for this.

You and William are out on a date today, already seated at the theater and waiting for the play to begin. The seats William reserved are located in the opera box, with no more than a handful of people sharing the space with you, and even those are situated far enough to your right to cease noticing their presence at all, especially once the lights are dimmed. You're more than happy with this luxurious arrangement, looking forward to seeing the play while in the company of your lover.

It hasn't been long into it when William suddenly takes off his coat.

"Are you cold, my dear? Please, allow me."

You watch William in confusion as he proceeds to put his coat on you, like a blanket draped over your front.

"Thanks, William." You reply with a smile, not minding his gesture at all, but when you direct your gaze back to the stage below, you see him from your peripheral vision with his gaze still latched on you.

A devious thought creeps into your head, and you feel like you know exactly what is going to happen if you meet William's gaze right now. And you do exactly that.

William's voice is but a whisper, enough just for you to hear.

"Come."

Your fingernails bite into the velvety armrests of your seat, a tremor going through your body, and now you see the purpose of his coat. William is too sly for his own good, you manage to think through the euphoria, as the need to moan his name almost overpowers your self-control. The cacophony of noises produced by the actors down below drowns the small whine you let out as the last of the waves of pleasure wash over you, and only the pleasant buzz remains.

William places his hand over yours, entwining his slender digits with yours. You spend the remainder of the play just like this.

The first time you're the one wanting it, he has you begging for it.

He's in his chair, lightly swinging a glass of wine, savoring his drink without a hurry in the world. Why would he? You waltzed in here clad in a brand new set of lingerie underneath your robe, and you agreed when he requested for you to put on a little show for him first. It's been a while now since the silky red undergarments have been discarded on the floor and you'd begin touching yourself all for him to watch. But no matter what you do, with the anticipation that you're going to receive a much bigger treat than those sorry fingers of yours, you simply can't reach your peak on your own.

"William, please…"

"Please what, my Robin?"

"Please make me cum! Command me to cum! I can't do it without you, William, please!"

William's smile grows. You'd think he's satisfied with your pleas if it weren't for the casual way he takes a sip of his wine, not looking like someone soon to take action.

"Keep playing with yourself, it's a pleasure for my eyes."

You whine at his words, fingers rubbing harder in hopes that you can somehow put an early end to this and then move on to what you really are after. With your current position kneeling on the carpeted floor, you can easily put your other hand to work as well, parting your knees just a little more apart so you can freely finger yourself all for William's eyes to see. He's not that harsh. He's never been. You're sure he'll let you come anytime now.

Just when the added simulation begins to take an effect on you, there's movement from your lover. The wine glass is set down as he slowly shortens the distance, and to your surprise, sinks one knee to the floor so he can be close enough to touch you.

His manicured hand reaches out until it's directly on your clit, your own falling to the side as your mind screams a thousand times 'yes' with anticipation to finally get some real stimulation.

As expected, it takes no time for William's familiar touch to send you to the edge. Your body language does little to hide the telltale signs of your quickly approaching climax as William's free hand suddenly captures your chin, making you lock eyes with him.

"Don't come."

As if an invisible barrier prevents William's touch from actually reaching you, all stimulation is cut out. No, you still feel it, undoubtedly - yet your brain is confused, the signals not getting through, as you whimper and cry out in frustration.

"No—Please, William, Please! I need it, please let me cum!"

William removes his hand and you practically bend forward, trying to chase after his touch, on your hands and knees before him.

"Please, William!"

He needn't tilt your chin this time - you've been eagerly waiting for it, your eyes trained on him the entire time - and when he rises to his feet you feel devastated, afraid he's getting further away from you. When your face is this close to the floor and he's risen to his full height, he looks almost intimidating.

"Come, my Robin."

You feel a powerful full-body shudder that washes over you, something like pure ecstasy as your head falls between your arms, spine arching and hips trembling.

"William…William…ahhh…"

You feel a gentle touch on your cheek and you can do little other than nuzzle into it, thankful for the mercy he showed.

"Let's get you to bed now, my lovely Robin. You did so well. I want to spoil you thoroughly now."

Basking in his praise, all that you can think about is making him even prouder of how disciplined you can be… You wonder if next time he would even need to use his curse on you at all.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison   @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 27

Voiceless - Labatory - Muzzled - "I have no mouth and must scream"

Whumpee slowly blinked in the newly turned on lights of the lab.

They peaked out of their cell to see who had disturbed them this morning.

"Good morning Whumpee", Whumper called from the opposite side of the room. Already knowing the rat couldn't stand the bright lights so early in the morning, "I'm in and out really quick, so you can go to sleep again. I just want to check on your surgery sight. I believe your laryngectomy was successful, but we need to watch your healing. I may also start your feeding tube a little earlier then normal. "

Whumpee remembered the tube just then. It was hard to get comfortable with it there, but they would be in trouble if they took it out.

Whumpee's cage was opened, and a small computer was placed in front of them.

"So how are you feeling?", Whumper walked away to wash their hands and glove up.

Whumpee looked at the screen and started to press word options that fit how they felt.

"Tired... sore.... angry.... sad."

"I understand", Whumper sighed, "it wasn't in my plans to do that surgery. Your larynx was badly damaged from the accident. It was in your best interest to fully remove it. You screamed in a lot of that chemical. You remember?"

Whumpee nodded weakly as they remembered. They couldn't even blame Whumper either. It wasn't Whumper that hurt them. They had to do the surgery because of how uncomfortable Whumpee felt after the experiment.

"That is the last time I let a student, quote on quote, try something", Whumper frowned, "you almost clawed out your throat, remember?"

Whumpee nodded, "remember", they tapped on the screen.

"Let's see here", Whumper came over, "you said it felt sore?"

Whumpee nodded, "and looked at the screen."

"Go ahead", Whumper pointed at the computer.

"Itchy....2", Whumpee frowned.

"Please don't itch it. I know it's hard, but do not touch the spot", Whumper studied the surgery sight, "it looks alright for right now. We will clean it later. Do you need some pain meds."

Whumpee signed yes with their hands.

"Alright", Whumper nodded.

"Why... nice?", Whumpee looked at them curiously as the computer spoke.

Whumper turned to them and grinned, "I can be nice when I want to", they held a glass vile up in the light for a better view, "like I said that test was done without me being aware of what they were doing. You got injured accidentally and you had to go through a unplanned major surgery."

Whumpee looked at them worriedly.

"Would you have preferred the fried vocal cords?", Whumper filled a syringe with the medicine, "you still wouldn't have been able to talk like that either, and it would hurt. Once this heals, you won't be in pain."

Whumpee nodded.

"Thankyou Whumper for fixing me", Whumper mocked in a funny voice, "oh your welcome Whumpee."

Whumpee grinned at the mockery.

"Here, let's get this into you. We might as well start your feeding cycle", Whumper came up to the cage, "that's another thing. Once this is done, you should be able to eat normally."

Whumpee nodded again, then offered their arm.

"Alright, here we are", Whumper said while concentrating, "do you want a sticker on your bandaid?"

Whumpee smiled weakly and nodded.

"You are the only reason I even have stickers. You know that right? I've never once had a sticker to offer a lab rat until you sarcastically asked for one, and a student bought you a sticker. Now I have an entire drawer full", Whumper meticulously placed the sticker just right onto the bandaid, "though I suppose it has gotten you and a few others to be more willing to work with me on experiments. So that's a plus", Whumper smiled as they stuck another sticker on Whumpee's forehead.

"Do you need anything before I get the feeding started?", Whumper walked away to get rid of the needle.

"Bathroom", Whumpee tapped the button.

"Oh yeah, you are probably dying by now. Here I am taking my time", Whumper hurried back.

They reached in and cradled Whumpee before pulling them out of the cage. Then carried them to the bathroom.

When done Whumper carried them out and set them on an operation table.

"Let's get you out of your cage for a few minutes while I mix your feeding cocktail bag", Whumper grinned, "don't jump off. You're still weak from the surgery."

Whumpee hung their legs off of the side of the table and swung them back and forth. If they could have. They would have hummed to annoy Whumper. They didn't want to attempt trying it though. Whumper had said they maybe would be able to vocalize some things, but language was gone completely.

Whumper watched them from the corner of their eye.

"I know you probably won't go straight to sleep once you get locked back up, but you need to rest", Whumper spoke over their shoulder, "this feeding will probably take you until lunch, you need to remember to lay on the pillow so you remain elevated. Let me know if something doesn't feel right."

Whumpee nodded, though Whumper hadn't looked at them yet.

Whumper flushed the line and set up Whumpee's feed.

"We will need to replace this line today as well", Whumper sighed, "everything will have to be replaced. Which is another reason why I wouldn't have planned this. Surgeries are annoying, especially when they have to be done correctly. My lab rats are not expendable. I can't just replace one if they get badly injured or die. This new set of students are driving me crazy. Human life is dangerous to play with. Especially with how I play. It's a waste of resources, which then is a waste of money."

Whumpee shrunk back farther into their cage as they listened to Whumper.

Whumper sighed, then looked at Whumpee lovingly, "none the less, you lab rats are my babies. So you deserve the best I can offer."

Whumpee nervously smiled.

"Alright, so I'll be at my desk. Do you want to play a game on here while you rest", Whumper picked up the computer and switched to a different app, "I know I said I'd be in and out, but I might get some work done, and I don't want you unsupervised."

Whumpee quickly nodded and got close again.

"There you go", Whumper smiked as they handed the computer to Whumpee and closed the cage door.

Whumpee quickly started to play the familiar game of squashing the bugs on the screen. It was their favorite.

Whumper watched them for a few moments to make sure the feeding was going in properly. Plus, Whumpee was absolutely adorable with that concentrating look on their face.

"My sweet little lab rat", Whumper chuckled as they walked their desk, "such a good pet."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

[queenshelby]

MINI SERIES: THE SLAVE

PAIRING: TOMMY SHELBY X VIRGIN READER

WARNING: NON-CONSENSUAL LOSS OF VIRGINITY, CAPTURED READER, SLAVE READER, TOMMY GETTING OFF ON PAIN

NOTE: AGAIN THIS WAS A REQUEST AND I FELT A LITTLE UNCOMFORTABLE PUBLISHING IT...VERY DARK!

Just as he had promised, later that night and when you were already fast asleep following some serious exhaustion after what had transpired, Tommy entered your room at around one o'clock.

The soft glow of the moonlight illuminated his figure as he approached the bed where you laid sprawled out.

Without bothering to wake you, he took off his briefs and gave his cock a few strokes, causing it to stand tall and erect, before he gently climbed on to the bed.

He nestled his knees on either side of your waist, positioning himself directly above you. With one arm supporting his weight, he reached down to push your panties to the side, exposing your rather sore and swollen mound. 

The sensation startled you and you woke up with a jolt, gasping at the unexpected sensation of Tommy aligning his member with your torn hole.

"I am tired," you whined, squirming underneath him but your efforts proved futile as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them beside your head.

"Sshh," he hushed you, his warm breath caressing your ear. "You know that you are mine now, Love. And I'm going to use you however I please," Tommy said smugly, his cock throbbing against your sensitive entrance before, with one forceful thrust, he plunged himself into you.

You gasped, your body arching involuntarily in response to the renewed intrusion.

"Just relax," he growled, grinding himself against you, his erection burrowing deeper and deeper into your aching hole. "It's just going to be a quick fuck and then you can go back to sleep, eh?" Tommy whispered into your ear, his voice laced with lust.

"You know that my needs come first, don't you?" He said, his tone matter-of-factly, as he adjusted his position above you. The heat of his body radiated onto you, and you could smell the musky scent of his arousal.

"Don't worry, I am almost done," he murmured, his fingers digging into your hips as he began to thrust into you again. 

He thrust harder, his cock driving deeper into you with each movement.

"You feel so good," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "My beautiful little whore." Tommy's voice was husky, full of lust as he admired the way your body trembled beneath him. 

"You know that I can't resist your sweet little pussy, Love," he rasped, pulling out and thrusting back into you roughly. "All I can think about is getting my cock deeper inside you." he hummed, relishing the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of your body until, finally, with a loud groan, he exploded inside you, filling you up with his seed.

You gasped, your body shaking uncontrollably beneath him. This was your life now, serving a man who saw you as nothing more than a sex object.

As he climbed off of you, you could feel his cum trickling down your leg and onto the bedsheets. The smell of sex lingered in the air, and all you wanted to do was clean up and fall back asleep.

Despite exhaustion, you listened to his heavy footsteps recede down the hallway, the sound of them fading away until they vanished completely before you made your way to the bathroom. 

Washing yourself off in the shower, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions: shame, disgust, anger, fear, and resignation. Yet, you also discovered a newfound longing for release from this torment, a desperate wish for freedom from him.

"Maybe if I try to escape," you thought to yourself, "maybe if I run far enough away, he won't find me." But deep down, you knew the truth: he had power, influence, and connections. Escaping would be impossible. At least for now.

[gemini-sensei]

Everything Has Changed | Cobra!Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz x Chubby!LaRusso!Reader

CW: teen pregnancy, angst, crying, kind of enemies to lovers.

Reader felt her heart leap into her throat as she stared down at the stupid plastic stick in her had. Pregnant.

"Fuck," she huffed and hit the wall with her fist out of frustration. "Dad is gonna freak the fuck out."

Her heart thumped hard in her chest as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. How one earth was she supposed to explain this to him or the rest of her family? What would she tell her friends? Her sister especially.

And of course the guy she slept with, multiple times after heated arguments and near spitting vile names at each other. How was she supposed to tell the most annoying, egotistical guy she knew that she was pregnant with his baby?

She didn't want to think about it but all the troubles invaded her mind anyway. With a huff and a deep breath, she harshly wiped away her tears and tossed the pregnancy test in the trash. However, when she looked in the bathroom mirror, she felt sick to her stomach.

Here she was, a LaRusso knocked up in high school...

"What the Hell am I going to do?"

As the days went by, Reader tried to act as if everything was fine. She went to school, did everything she had to, and made excuses as to why she couldn't go to karate afterward. She skipped going to the dojo, telling her dad and sister that she was hanging out with friends or needed to do homework. Before they could object, she slipped away and didn't let them get a word in.

It worked for a while but she knew that sooner or later, she was going to have to either get more creative in her excuses or tell them the truth. She really didn't want to do the latter, so she started making up all sorts of things to tell them. Her absences eventually reached her mother, who gently confronted her one night while doing the dishes after dinner.

"So, are you avoiding your father or are you just sick of karate?" she asked.

Reader scrubbed a plate and kept her head down. Another lie slipped past her lips with ease as she spoke. "I'm sick of it. I just didn't want to hurt Dad's feelings. You know how he gets."

Her mom let out a small laugh. "That I do. Well, I'll talk to him and make him ease up on ya. How does that sound?"

"Like a dream."

But the word didn't stop there. It traveled through the karate community and reached one mohawked menace's ears.

While walking to the library during one of her classes, Reader was suddenly grabbed by the elbow. She pulled her arm out of her unwanted company's hand and turned to him with a glare, staring Hawk down as he smirked. She spat, "What do you want?"

"Heard you were quitting Miyagi-Do," he said, an amusement in his tone. "Heard your dad's a pain in the ass, so I thought I'd come to extend an irrefutable offer to you."

"No dice," she said and put her head forward, continuing her walk. He annoyingly followed, so she continued. "Like Hell I'd even join that pitiful excuse you call a dojo. Besides, I didn't quit karate. I'm on a break."

"That's so lame," he huffed. She could practically hear the way he rolled his eyes. "Come on, you'll like it. It's a whole lot better than that lame Miyagi-Do crap you do."

"First of all, are you even listening to me? I said I'm taking a break," she said, not sparing him a glance. "Second of all, don't disrespect Mr. Miyagi like that. He shared his culture with my father and was like a grandfather to me. Just because you have a different way of doing karate doesn't make my way wrong."

"Jeez, chill out, LaRusso," he grunted. He glared at her, but there was a glint in his eyes. "What's got your mood so sour?"

She ignored him as she walked into the library, but it was futile as he followed behind her. She tried to walk faster than him, though unfortunately for her, she was tired and her body was a little sore. He caught up fast and stayed behind her as she browsed the shelves. However, she couldn't do that for long when he turned her around and pinned her against the bookcase, looking at her with that same glint in his eyes.

"Have I ever told you how you're kinda hot when you're pissed off?" he asked.

She looked at him, her breath caught in her throat. His hot breath fanned her face and made her knees weak, a fact she hated to admit to because he was so annoying. His bad-boy attitude was what both frustrated and attracted her to him, not that they'd ever discussed stupid things like feelings. They screwed around when things got tense; when their adrenaline was up from throwing insults at each other; when words escaped them and the only thing to do was smash their lips into each other and tear one another's clothes off.

But that couldn't happen this time, so she put her hands on his chest to prevent him from getting any closer. He gave her a weird look, almost offended.

"What? Tired of me too?" he asked.

"Grow up," she huffed and tried to shove him away, but he remained sturdy in his position.

He shook his head. "Be real with me, Reader. If you wanna me a bitch and go fuck someone else, then just tell me. There's plenty of other girls I could go to."

When she didn't say anything, he started to pull away. That was when she grabbed him by the front of his hoodie and pulled him back. He had to catch himself on the bookcase behind and he almost missed the words she hissed out.

"I'm pregnant, you fucking asshole."

He stared at her, holding himself over her, eyes slowly going wide as what she said set in. She watched the seething Cobra melt away, leaving behind a terrified teenage boy who was just as scared as the teenage girl in front of him. It broke her.

It broke her because if the all-mighty Hawk was scared, what did that mean?

She looked away from him as tears came to her eyes. "Jesus fucking Christ..."

Reader would have crumpled to the ground had he not been there to catch her. He held her up by her arms but unlike all the other times he held her, his grip wasn't rough or tight. It was firm and gentle.

"Are you fucking serious?" he asked dumbly.

She nodded, afraid to look at him as she quietly cried into her hand. She also didn't want to show him her tears, her weakness. It was too much to think about, stupidly so given the bombshell she'd just delivered to him. Why was she so concerned if he saw her cry? There were bigger fish to fry.

Then he did something unexpected. He hugged her.

His warmth suddenly became something different, something she never expected to feel from him. It wasn't lustful. It wasn't just body heat. It was comforting. So she buried her face in his chest and cried as quietly as she could, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him back.

Reader didn't know what he was thinking. She couldn't begin to imagine what was going through his head. Perhaps it was similar thoughts to what she had when she found out about the pregnancy, but unless she asked then she'd have no way of knowing. She didn't have it in her to ask at that moment though. All she could do was cry and he let her.

It wasn't as if Reader was new to keeping secrets from her family. She'd snuck out of the house numerous times without her parents knowing and she'd been fucking Hawk behind her sister's back. They were so wrapped up in their own problems that they didn't realize she was gone most of the time. However, hiding a pregnancy was a lot harder than anything else, mostly because it was frustrating.

The hardest night came when her dad made sushi for dinner.

Reader sat with her family as they enjoyed their meal and she sat quietly poking it with her chopsticks. It sucked not being able to eat a family favorite. She was starving and her parents had made the one thing she couldn't eat, not that they knew that.

"What's the matter, Reader?" her dad asked from his seat. He looked at her concerned, shifting his eyes between her and the plate in front of her. "You've hardly touched your food."

She felt a little tense. Everyone's eyes turned onto her and she hated it. She pushed her plate away and lied. "I'm not that hungry."

"You've hardly eaten today, you should really it," her mom said, pushing the plate back in front of her.

It was true, she hadn't eaten much, but that was because of the massive waves of nausea.

She pushed the plate away again and tried to ignore the way her stomach felt like it was going to eat itself. It was just her luck that on a night like this, her dad made sushi of all things. "Really, I'm not that hungry."

"Is something wrong?" her dad asked. It was the final straw on her already tense and hormonal back.

"I'm fine! God, why can't you guys just leave me alone?" she shouted, pushing herself away from the table and standing up. She stomped upstairs and slammed her bedroom door shut, tears pricking the corners of her eyes by the time she made it there. She loved the door to make sure no one followed her inside, knowing that was exactly what her dad or Sam would do.

She sat in bed for a while, waiting for the tears to stop, but they didn't. It was like a dam had burst from behind her eyes and now she couldn't make the tears stop. She did the only thing she could think of to do; she texted Hawk.

"So you haven't told your parents yet?" Hawk asked as he unwrapped a taco. He looked up at Reader as they sat in his cat. She was using the middle console as a little table as she poured sauce packets on her taco. He couldn't help watching her.

She felt his eyes on her and she didn't mind it so much as before. He'd been looking at her all night ever since he picked her up from her house. It somehow made her feel better, probably because he was the only person that knew what she was going through.

She looked up at him and shook her head. "No, my dad is gonna freak out and try to kill you when he finds out."

"I can handle myself," Hawk said, unafraid of Mr. LaRusso.

She hummed. "You won't say that when he's coming after you."

"I'm not scared of your dad, Reader."

"Yeah, okay," she said, then bit into her taco. Her cheeks were still stained with tear tracks but she didn't bother to clean them up. She was too tired and too hungry to be bothered with such a silly thing. So she decided to enjoy her tacos in silence.

Well, as much silence that could be achieved with the radio playing modern pop music. It was low and not really noticeable until the pair quieted down. That was how they sat for several minutes until they both finished their meal.

Reader disrupted the upbeat pop song playing by crinkling her taco wrappers and tossing them back into the bag from which they came. Hawk took the bag from her and hopped out of the car to walk it to the trashcan nearby. It allowed Reader to sit back and really look at the situation she'd gotten herself into; here she was with a student from the dojo her father hated, was bitter rivals with, eating tacos in a parking lot like it was a normal everyday thing to do. Oh, and she was pregnant with his baby, to top things off.

It was a hot mess and as she realized this, the storm of emotions reemerged. However, rather than let it get the best of her, Reader turned up the radio's volume and sang along to the Taylor Swift song that was playing.

When Hawk returned, he was met with the blasting volume and Reader singing at the top of her lungs. He slipped into the car, watching her carefully before turning the volume down a little bit.

"You okay?" he asked.

She looked at him, pausing her serenade. "I don't know."

"Why's that?"

"Maybe it has to do with the fact that I'm pregnant in high school and my dad is gonna kill me when he finds out," she said, sighing heavily. Then she shook her head. "Well, no, that's not true. He'll kill you and I'll be unscathed except for the fact that I know he's gonna be majorly disappointed and somehow that's worse than him being mad enough to commit murder."

Hawk reached over to her and rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. He offered as much comfort as he could, being the boy who had knocked her up and had yet to tell his own parents. A part of him understood the immense amount of pressure she was under but only a small fraction of it because he wasn't the one that was pregnant. He was just the guy.

Still, he offered his support. "Hey, it's gonna be okay."

"It doesn't feel like it," she mumbled.

They sat in silence for another few minutes, aside from the radio. She put her hand on his, accepting his comforting gesture. It helped soothe her mind, let her forget about the troubles that she would have to face, and allowed her to push them away again. He reminded her that she wasn't totally alone in all of this, which was what she had expected to come after she told him she was pregnant.

After all, he was a total jerk. At least that was what she was led to believe. He was a part of Cobra Kai, the asshole assembly that terrorized her sister and friends on a near-daily basis.

However, as they sat in his car under the lights of streetlamps and the Taco Town neon sign, she didn't see a Cobra.

She saw the boy who was scared of everything, the one he tried to erase from everyone's memory. No matter how hard he tried, he now sat in front of her, hair down, closed off to the world, quiet. Deep in thought, he didn't say anything, and he looked like a brief memory more than a person. He looked like Hawk, but she remembered-

"Eli..."

He looked up at her, a little shocked to hear that name fall from her lips. She spoke it softly, testing the waters. However, unlike how he lashed out at Demetri for using that name, his eyes softened from their startled state and he met her eye.

"Yeah?"

"What are we gonna do?"

He licked his lips and croaked, "I don't know..."

It fell silent again. The radio played. She looked down at their hands and sighed, letting the question and answer go. She was too tired to think about it or try to figure things out.

Then the song changed. It was an Ed Sheeran love song. The air filled with soft melodies and sweet tones. Reader felt awkward as it came on and tried to pull her hand away but he held it firmly, making her look up. Her heartbeat picked up when their eyes met again. He drew closer and she felt a magnetic pull as the nerves faded away. Their lips brushed against each other gently at first, then fully came together in a soft, long kiss.

She slipped a hand into his hair and his other hand came up to hold her waist. Their joined hands stayed together and he squeezed her hand, leaning into her to deepen the kiss. She let out a small moan, melting into it. Something about it was better than any other kiss she'd ever had.

But she was scared to pull away. So when it ended, she sighed and didn't open her eyes. Softly, she asked, "This can't be fake."

He looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

She took a deep breath before she looked at him. "I mean, if you're feeling obligated to be with me... because of the baby..."

He stared at her, then cupped her face and brought her lips to his once more. "I'm only obligated to be here because this is my baby too, but that's not why I'm kissing you. Reader... I've always had feelings for you."

"You hated me a few months ago."

"Before any of that," he told her. She stared at him, questing in entirely. "I never hated you. I could never hate you, Reader LaRusso."

She licked her lips. "Before?"

He nodded. "Way before."

She smiled softly, assured that this wasn't just circumstantial. And she kissed him again.

[deceasedream69]

Museum pt.1

I did it. I finally had the courage to ask her out.

We're going to the museum on Sunday night, it's a date. I can tell she's excited too, I was worried the museum decision was a little... nerd, but I'll guess she'll like it.

We set the time, 6:00 pm, I was going to pick her up but she said she had to do some things before meeting so she'll get there by herself.

It's 6:00 already. My hands are sweating and I can feel this... like, energy flowing through my body, it's making my stomach feel a little heavy, but I'm pretty sure it's excitement.

it's already 6:15 but I'm pretty sure she'll be here anytime, beautiful as always.

After 6:30 I decided to just go home. How could I be so stupid and think that going to a museum was a good idea for a date. I walked inside my apartment, took my shoes off and plopped onto the couch. I was too scared to even call her. I should just wait to see her tomorrow at the office, maybe she had something come up, something so important she couldn't even bother to call.

Y/n's pov

I don't know how long I've been here. I've been punched, spit on, almost drowned and electrocuted. My body felt extremely heavy and sore, my ears and head were killing me and I was cold. I just wanted to go home.

-"hey, princess, ready for another round?"

-"I just want to know why"

-"Is it not obvious yet?"

I just shook my head, slowly, of course.

-"hm, and to think that everyone tells me I look just like my father", he turned around, "or maybe, little miss agent here already forgot about every life she ruined, don't worry, I'll make you remember this day forever", he said pulling me by my hair.

Spencer's pov

I slept very well that night, suprisingly and given the circumstances. I guess crying really makes people tired. I had to put some ice on my eyes to get down the inflammation and redness.

I entered the office, my hands sweating and that feeling in my stomach again. I could do this, tho, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to ask here why she couldn't make it, or why, specially if she lies to my face and I detect it.

The team was already in a meeting when I entered the office, I quickly made my way into the meeting, everyone turning to look at me when I entered. That's when I noticed who was on the screen.

- "I know this might be a tough case for us..." Hotch started.

I sat quickly, I couldn't feel my legs, was this real? Is it my imagination trying to find an excuse for y/n to miss our date last night? Am I having a nightmare?!

- "But we're the ones who'll work the hardest to get to her", Derek said, angry as natural for him.

I wasn't angry, more like confused, sad, angry only at myself for not calling her, trying to reach her or something more than the pathetic "I'll ask her tomorrow" thing I did.

- "it's so sad, I can't even look at the pictures so I didn't put them in the presentation but...' Garcia sniffled... "But you can watch them in your tablets..."

I was too scared to look, although in my case it was a file, but not looking would be too suspicious as well, why wouldn't I look? It's supposed to be my friend, and she needed our help.

With my trembling hands I opened the file slowly, reading the first things, I opened it even more, but no pictures.

- "I couldn't dare to print them either", Garcia said looking at me trying to find the pictures.

The meeting was quick, everyone already assigned to do something different. I haven't looked at the pictures, I'm scared, but I also feel that would be a good way to motivate myself. Regardless, it's a little too late for that now, everyone's busy doing their different tasks, and I should be completing mine, too.

[hitomisuzuya]

hi I’d like to ask if you would be willing to write a threesome with Wanderer, afab reader and Scaramouche?

a/n 😳 Threesomes with different versions of Scara are a popular request. I love writing it. I hope you enjoy. If I go overboard with this I am sorry.

Scaramouche x Fem!reader x Wanderer Threesome. Smut.

"You sound so needy it's pathetic," Scaramouche murmured in your ear. One hand was securing your wrists above your head, the other one was on one of your hips, guiding your pace as you grinded needily on Wanderer's tongue, your thighs on either side of his head. The way your orgasm was building was making you tremble. Your moans were echoing throughout the domain.

He glanced at Wanderer, regarding him coldly, "In fact, he does too." The versions of this man didn't like each other.

Your moans were fueling Wanderer on, making his moans vibrate against your cunt. He sucked on your clit, swirling his tongue. Your eyes lulled closed in a state of fucked out bliss. They snapped open when you yourself get tugged backwards.

"I wasn't finished," Wanderer snapped as he sat up to whip his mouth.

Scaramouche kept your wrists firmly above your head. You were somewhat relieved that you were laying on your back, your shoulders and arms were starting to feel sore. "You think I give a shit," he didn't spare Wanderer a glance as he hovered over you, "you did your job. You made her nice and wet for me."

You gasped in pleasure, your body twitching from overstimulation when Scaramouche thrust himself inside of you. Leaning down, he briefly sucked on one your nipples before burying his face in your neck. It was so he could muffle his moans. You never heard them unless he wanted you to. Not to mention he'd insulted Wanderer about he sounded. He reflected that he must be a little pathetic too.

His face was slow at first, increasing only when he felt your walls beginning to clench around his cock. He had to work even harder to muffle his moans, groaning instead. It always felt so good, especially when your orgasm was approaching.

His fingernails dug into your wrist when he cummed inside of you. One single moan that he couldn't muffle tore from his throat. You could feel his cheeks heating from embarrassment against your neck. When he go of your wrists, you stroked his hair.

Orgasm washed over you then, you hips rocking up in time with his thrusts as he came down from his high. Scaramouche loved with it when you did this. It showed him that you really wanted him as much as he wanted you.

The way you said his name was akin to a scream. You were both panting when he pulled out of you. Scaramouche bit your lower lip, kissing you deeply. It was a way for him to praise you. A threesome with both of them was going to tire you out and you were doing so well.

"You good?" Wanderer asked. You just looked so fucked out that he had to ask. He smirked when you nodded. Lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance, he plunged his cock inside of you. Your legs instantly locked around his waist, urging him to bury his cock to the hilt inside of you.

"Fuck, you still feel so tight. I don't know if I can last that long," Wanderer groaned. He heard Scaramouche scoff, making him roll his eyes. Your moans while he ate you out had made him so hard.

"It's okay," you said in between your moans when he started thrusting. You were wet from overstimulation, writing beneath Wanderer as he cock squelched in and out of you. His cum and your arousal leaked out onto your inner thigh as he fucked you through his orgasm.

You were breathless, your head spinning when he pulled out of you. It really worked in your favor when he split into two versions of himself in a domain. You were so exhausted you barely noticed when Wanderer scooped you into his arms and left the domain.

[copperbadge]

What do you mean by digital cleaning?

It's something I've been working on more this year because I had a bit more travel than usual so couldn't do actual home cleaning, but I always take a couple of days in the Month Of Cleaning where I'm focused on my digital life. It's good to make your physical home a comfortable place for yourself, but it's also good to recognize that we have "digital" homes that need attention. And often this is at least less physically demanding, so it's good to keep it in your back pocket for days when you're mentally okay but physically too tired or sore to do more of that kind of work.

In the shortest possible terms, digital cleaning is just making sure that your phone, computer, socials, and other digital "presences" are organized in a way that you find helpful, and that you take a moment to either answer those messages you've been putting off or give yourself amnesty on doing so.

This tends to make a lot of people extremely anxious in a way ordinary physical space cleaning doesn't, so I'm going to put the rest of it behind a cut...

So when I say digital cleaning, I refer to stuff like going through my likes on Tumblr and clearing them out, going through my drafts and turning them into queued posts, answering my asks. I spend time in my email inboxes, either responding to messages or removing them. I am not an "inbox zero" kind of guy, but I like to keep the read-but-not-answered messages to a minimum, and towards the end of the year that usually means a clear-out and amnesty. I clean my Google Drive -- delete old files I uploaded for others, move documents I'm no longer using into an archive, move documents I want to work on into a central work folder. I go through my catch-all folder on my hard drive and organize it; I sort through the year's photos and organize those, partly to archive them and partly because I make a scrapbook from them each year. I don't usually have a ton of tabs open but often have more than I'd like, so I go through them all and either read, bookmark, or get rid of them.

I look in my phone's file tree to make sure I delete files I don't need (mostly menu downloads, Restaurants Stop Making Your Menus PDFs Challenge 2K24) and I sometimes go through each app on my phone, make sure I still use it, and make sure it's set how I want it. If this sounds like a nightmare, bear in mind that I very rarely put apps on my phone to start with -- I think my mother has more apps open at any given time than I have apps on my phone ever.

Everywhere I clean, I look for files named things like "notes" or "deal with" or "random" and move them all into one place so that whatever is in them, I can sort through it and make sure it goes somewhere permanent. Logins go in the login/password spreadsheet I keep, addresses go into my contacts, story notes go into a "fiction scraps" file, random thoughts either get moved into a journal file or put into drafts to become Tumblr posts, etc.

If this sounds like I might have some kind of compulsion disorder, I get that; when I explain my digital hygiene systems a lot of people look at me like I'm spouting a mad but harmless conspiracy theory. But it's something I used to have to do periodically even before I created National Clean Your Home Month, because otherwise I could never find anything, and everything was just...harder. As I once told a boss who admired my organizational skills, "It was this or endless chaos."

Putting addresses into my contacts list means I always know that the addresses I have for my friends are up to date. Putting logins into a spreadsheet means that five minutes spent now will not result in five weeks of procrastination later because I can't find the login and can't do anything else until I do that. Going through my email and archiving old conversations means not only can I find them easily when needed, I don't have to look at them the rest of the time. Sometimes I even go through my various wish lists and remove old/purchased items, or clear out all my "save for later" carts.

There's no doubt this is stressful, but like every part of NaClYoHo, it's broken down into smaller tasks; I don't have to look at my computer and organize everything on it all in one day. I can answer a few asks, then sort photos (something I find very soothing up until the moment I Don't), then read and delete some emails, then I'm done for the day. I can spread "answer or file all your work emails" out over a couple of days. I can maybe empty out my Likes but just turn the ones I actually want to reblog into drafts for now and deal with them later in the "drafts" phase of cleaning. And if I don't manage to empty out my inboxes, at least they're emptier than they were.

I'm struggling this morning with having put a bunch of physical cleaning on the to-do list but not feeling physically up for it, so I did what I felt capable of doing (measuring cabinets for new shelf liners mainly) and later today I might sit down and start building this year's photobook. Or not -- I have to code Radio Free Monday, sort out a prescription and possibly go pick it up, plus a very full day of work and a couple of afternoon appointments I can't shirk, so today may simply be a "get through the day" kind of day. That's okay too; some days the spirit is willing but the schedule is full.

[gothghostiie]

🫀 john price x reader 🫀

cw: gn!reader x price, rimming/facesitting, scent kink

a/n:@between-supposed-lovers made me do this, just saying

It had been a long day for John, he had been stressed by the ton of paperwork that kept piling on his desk after the last mission and the other boys hadn't been very helpful either. So, when you knocked and shuffled into his office with a glass of his favourite whiskey in your hand he lit up immediately. "aren't you a sight for sore eyes doll?" he hummed softly, waving you over behind his desk with 2 fingers. Naturally you obeyed him, standing next to his desk chair, the smell of smoke already burned into the black leather. He took the glass from you with his right hand, the left snaking around the back of your thighs, feeling you up through your military issue pants. "what brings you here?" he finally asked, taking a long sip off the drink, a low groan escaping his throat from the slight, burning sensation.

"jus' wanted to see you Captain.. check in on you." you replied with a cheeky grin, knowing what it does to him when you called him Captain. "so.. how are you?" despite the teasing tone in your voice you genuinely wanted to know, especially after Kyle told you about the amount of paperwork he had to deliver to Price's office.

A low sigh rumbled in his throat before looking up at you with tired eyes, the dark circles more evident than usual. "fucking stressed." he replied bluntly. "look at this, how the fuck am I supposed to ever get through this without going insane?" with his last words he emptied the glass, setting it down on the table with a loud thud, making you flinch. nonetheless, you ran your hand over the back of his neck, the other placing itself on his tensed up chest.

"you poor man.. you work so hard.." you cooed, making him chuckle a little. his laugh is deep, making his chest vibrate with it, giving you goosebumps all over. after a second you spoke up again, your voice more quiet now. "I could try and make it a little.. easier on you. help you relax." now he looked up at you, an eyebrow raised.

"oh yea? how so?" he asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice. his eyes flickered over your form, trying to read you, figure out what you wanted to do - not in a million years he would've guessed what you wanted.

before he knew it, you laid naked on his bed his bed in his quarters, head on a pillow while he stood next to the bed with his arms crossed, thick cock already semi hard. "are you sure you want this darlin?" he asked again, eyeing you over. his cock twitched. "I don't wanna crush that pretty head of yours."

all you could do wss roll your eyes, shaking his head. "come over here.." you almost commanded, making him raise an eyebrow; yet he walked over and crawled on the bed, kneeling over your head so he could still oggle your body. thick, muscly thighs hugged your head slightly, squeezing you playfully while his calloused hands grabbed your waist.

"don't tell me what to do, love." the pet name almost sounded venomous but there was no room to think with how he suddenly dropped himself onto your face, making you gasp and flinch a little. he sighed and relaxed, giving your waist a squeeze while you took a deep breath, inhaling his scent deeply, immediately making your crotch twitch slightly. it only took a moment for him to start rocking his hips slightly, almost too gentle for him, but just fine for now. a soft sigh escaped him, feeling your hot breath, the structure of your face on his most sensitive and vulnerable parts.

you felt dizzy, eyes rolling back from your own pleasure, pressing your thighs together. the sheer pleasure you got from letting him use you in a humiliating way like that was unbelievable. "enjoying yourself, are you?" He asked in a teasing tome, giving your head a little squeeze with his thighs. "can tell you love me ridin' your face.. already so wet/hard, we barely even started.." he teased playfully, fingers grazing over your sex, drawing a whine from you.

with your mouth open he pushed down further, making your tongue touch his puckered hole. your eyes widened but you immediately understood, taking this as your sign to really dig in. you stuck your tongue out slightly, circling his hole, immediately drawing a moan from him, making him tense up. "there ya go love.." he murmured. "keep going.." even if he'd rather die than admit it, there was a hint of desperation in his gravely voice, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your waist, slowly scratching up your rips with dull fingernails as your tongue lapped over his hole, making it twitch wildly, more moans spilling from his chapped lips.

he held still, letting you play with him as he breathed heavier, thighs squeezing your head harder as his now hard cock had drops of pre cum bead at the tip. "fuck.." he whispered, voice sultry and even a little shaky, back arching like a cat. you grabbed his big thighs, guiding him down further, wanting him to properly sit, enjoy himself. he opened his mouth to protest, barely getting out the first syllable before you pushed your tongue into his tight hole, making him gasp loudly. "jesus.." he grunted, feeling you tongue fuck him slowly, making sure he feels every little movement, every drag and every bit of spit you leave on his skin.

his fingers dug into your ribs almost painfully, his hips tensing so hard he shook a little, cock twitching as he got closer to cumming. "gonna make me cum doll.. didn't even touch you yet.." he muttered, his words almost laced with guilt. you however didn't care one bit, instead wrapping your arms around his thighs instead of grabbing them; now your hand wrapping around his thick, sticky cock, the other fondling his balls. an almost pathetic, cracked up moan spilled from his lips, making him blush in embarrassment. "darlin-" he tried to speak, but you dipped into his asshole, slightly sucking on the ring, making his brain shut down. within just some more moments his seed spilled all over your torso, a string of curses falling from his lips as he pressed his hips down into your face for a few moments, before slowly lifting himself up. he was hovering over you, both of you equally out of breath from what just happened. you softly kept swiping your tongue over his twitching hole, making him shiver harshly before he finally climbed off of you, much to your disappointment.

"You alright, John?" you asked softly, he stared at you for a mere second before almost throwing himself down at you, lips crashing against yours, trying to taste himself on your lips before whispering against them, praises spilling between the kisses.

[luveline]

i am obsessed with your kisses before dinner au, do you think you can maybe write something about what it’s like when the new baby is born or maybe how the older kids reacted to becoming siblings if yk what i mean? absolutely no pressure and ily!!

baby number four comes back from the hospital and steve tries not to cry about it (he fails) | kisses before dinner universe

afab!fem!reader x dad!steve (tw ment labour + pregnancy)

Steve sits down beside you on the couch with Beth in his arms and tries to calm his racing heart. To think your new baby is finally here, right here, safe and healthy and home, makes him want to throw up. He won't, obviously, but if he's a little grey around the gills that's his business. 

Avery sits on your other side quiet as a dormouse. As the oldest, she's experienced this twice before. She can't remember when Bethie came home because she'd been so young herself, and Steve suspects she might not fully remember meeting Dove for the first time either, but she remembers to be quiet and gentle, and that's all she really needs to do. 

Steve had wanted to bring them to the hospital to see you as soon as the baby was born, but Robin, rightfully, encouraged him to wait. He agrees now, because after labour you hadn't looked yourself. You'd been tired and sick. "You're having the next one," you'd joked. He had laughed until he cried, emotional from seeing you screaming and sweaty, his hand reduced to mush. Steve had been beside himself. He loves his girls, but he doesn't love how they came into the world. Seeing you that way… he can't regret getting you pregnant, not when he has all these beautiful babies, but he feels something similar. He feels better now that you're home.

"Tada," Steve whispers in Beth's ear. "There's your baby sister." 

"Another one?" you'd asked when you found out the gender, defeated but not really. You'll love whatever you're given. He loves that about you, and he feels the same. "Steve, come on." 

"It's not my fault!" he'd insisted. 

"She's really small," Bethie whispers back. 

"You don't have to whisper, sweetheart," you say, your face flopped against the couch cushions. You're still sapped. "She has to get used to all your voices." 

Bethie stands on Steve's leg and holds onto your shoulder. He grabs her waist in case she takes a spill, letting her peer down into your arms at the face of her new sister. Her lips part. 

"I think," Steve says, squeezing gently, "we finally have another one who looks like mommy and you." 

"I think so too," Avery says quietly. 

"Yea?" 

"She's got mom's nose." 

"Little," you joke, giving Avery a playful nudge with your elbow. "I think so three." 

You swap. Steve gets to hold his new baby and you make as much room as you can in your lap for the oldest two, wincing when someone's knee jabs your sore stomach. He's about to tell them to climb off of you when you wrap your arms around them, hiding your face in Avery's soft, silky hair. She got nearly everything from Steve, including how much she loves being cuddled, and she melts like butter in the sun at your touch. 

"I missed you, mom," she says. "Please don't have more babies for a while." 

You laugh. You all know Steve wants an army. You also know Steve wants what you want. You could never touch him again and he'd be okay with it, somehow. Safe to say, you won't be having any more babies for a while, if ever again.

"I missed you too. Three days without you is three too many. And don't worry, my love. Me and daddy aren't having anymore for a long, long time." You peek over Avery's shoulder and smile. "I wish we didn't make such pretty ones. Maybe I'd be less tempted."

"That's all you," Steve says. 

Bethie slouches to rest her weight on Steve's arm. God, he'd missed his girls. He'd been hoping your time in the hospital would be quick considering you've had three before, though they've been varying degrees of difficulty, and almost always made you poorly. That hope had been struck down fast, and Steve had just done whatever it was he could do to keep you breathing and smiling. He must be good at it, because four babies and eight years later he can still make you laugh between pushes. 

He's, pardon his language, fucking amazed at what you can do. And he's so in awe of his life, his family, his girls, he finds himself welling up for the tenth time today, the perfect tiny face of your newborn a blur in his eyes. 

Bethie pats his arm as he sniffles. 

"You want a hug?" she asks knowingly. 

"Yeah," he says. "I do. Thanks, baby." 

"I'm not the baby," she says, draping herself over his shoulder. He drops his face against hers and sniffles some more. 

Dove wakes up a little while after that, and when she calls, "Mommy!" from her crib you're thrilled to be able to go get her. You're still kissing her when you reach the bottom of the stairs, your nose sliding over her chubby cheeks as you coo praises at her. 

"I missed you so so much, my love," you say, softly and brightly, affection dripping from every syllable. "Mommy missed you sooooo much. You've been such a good girl for daddy and Aunt Robin, I know you have." You beam at her tiny dimples. She beams back. "You want to meet our lovely new baby?" 

Steve doesn't get too cut up about his family anymore, but he can't imagine his mother ever holding him so tenderly. He thinks she must have, once. Or maybe she didn't. There's no way to know, he only remembers growing up with that spearing sense of loneliness heavy in all his bones. 

Robin, his best friend in the entire world, had absolutely healed him. When he met you, he didn't have to worry about being enough or being too much, he'd just loved you. You'd filled those last cracks, and his daughter's pretty much erased any trace of them. 

He's so lucky. He could cry again, but the tears give him a migraine and he needs to be right as rain for the nights to come. 

You sit down. You smell familiar, and your smile curves under his ear as you drop a kiss against his wane skin. 

"Are you alright, Stevie baby?" you ask softly, one part concerned and three parts fond. You know what he's thinking. 

"I've never been better." He reaches out to comb a rogue strand of hair from Dove's face. "Are you ready to meet your new little sister?" he asks her. 

Dove glares at him. He wouldn't expect anything less. 

[pretentiousgayguyidk]

Hey Hi Hello!

I saw your requests are open so here I am!

I was thinking about Ran, Rindou, Hakkai and Mitsuya with an slavic reader? Male preferably could be gn!

Also could I be the 🥟 anon If your making a list?

Feel free to ignore this!

Pre writing thoughts - Yes!! I absolutely can, I've studied a small amount of Russian and Icelandic - but it probably won't be accurate as I'll have to use Google translate to fill the gaps. I hope you enjoy this 🥟 Anon!

Post writing thoughts- Okay... Well, I wasn't expecting to write so much, so I'll have to make other parts for the other characters 😭 but I hope this is good enough considering how long it took. (Also sorry it wasn't gender neutral, I completely blanked on it)

(Name) stuck out like a sore thumb, having moved to Japan half way into the school year; it wasn't often that foreigners moved to the area. The peculiar student had certainly caught Mitsuya's attention, piquing Takashi's curiosity... Well, (Name)'s caught the eyes of everyone not just Mitsuya.

One thing that stood out was (Name)'s accent, the mix of Japanese words with the addition of deep and throaty annociations strange yet amusing; the rolling of his r's and the emphasis of the ch's and k's pointed towards Slavic origins. That note inspired Mitsuya, and in an attempt to make (Name) more comfortable he started researching traditional Slavic clothing.

"What is that?" Yasuda questioned, her brows furrowed in confusion and slight judgement - as the current piece Mitsuya was working on was out of character for him. The red, black, white, and blue fabric stood out against his usual more casual colour choices - and the sketches of geometric embroidery patterns weren't at all like the usual Kanji he used.

Mitsuya sticks his pencil behind his ear, leaning back in his chair earning satisfying pops from his spine; he had honestly been expecting this question and was expecting it to be asked sooner. He gives Yasuda a tired smile, his arms lax as they hang by his sides.

"It's a uh..." He trails off, unsure how to properly pronounce the word - as it was either Russian or Ukrainian, he couldn't tell the difference even with the little research he did - all he knew was that it was a more traditional Slavic outfit. "Byshibanka?"

He felt a tad guilty, even though the certain Slavic student was nowhere near to hear his horrendous mispronunciation; it felt like a dishonor of sorts. Yasuda raises a brow, her hands on her hips as she looks down at her club captain.

"A what?" She asks, knowing for a fact that - one: Mitsuya mispronounced it - and that two: she would never remember to look it up later when she got home.

Mitsuya sits up, running a hand over his short silver hair; his expression filled with exasperation, not at Yasuda but himself.

"It's this like- traditional Russian or... Whatever... Outfit? I wanted to give it to the new guy." He explains, earning a knowing nod from Yasuda - who knew from her first meeting with Mitsuya that he liked guys... Even if Mitsuya didn't know it himself yet.

"Oh... So you like him?"

Mitsuya shrugs, not getting the implication - as it wasn't exactly the norm for guys to date other guys. He had no idea if he liked the new kid, he just wanted to do something nice... It wasn't like he found (Name) interesting or cute.

"I don't know, he seems like a chill guy - I've never talked to him." The teens nonchalant answer only furthered Yasuda's suspicions, she wasn't going to spell it out for Mitsuya just yet; but she was certainly coming up with a scheme.

"Well, I hope he likes it... And hopefully he's actually Russian... You do know there's other countries like that, right?" She narrows her eyes, doubting that Mitsuya actually did enough research; not surprising, many teenagers weren't all that informed of nations outside of Japan and the major powers.

Takashi's eyes widen, shifting away nervously as he realizes that he completely glossed over the fact that there are other Slavic countries; he didn't bother looking at a map or anything, just looked up some traditional clothing.

"I mean- I..." He trails off, glancing down towards the pile of cloth in front of him; he didn't consider looking beyond Russia, and he didn't even know for a fact that the Vyshyvanka was Russian or not. He shrugs, attempting to wash away his own mild concern over what could be a massive mishap. "I'm sure it'll be fine... Right? Maybe he'll appreciate the sentiment?"

"I'm sure he will... Whatever, I'll leave you to finish your little gift." She states, turning to pay attention to some of the other club members.

Mitsuya felt strangely nervous, holding a box in his lap as he waited for (Name) to enter the school gardens, a place where (Name) often stayed for lunch - since he didn't exactly have many people to talk to. Soon enough, the Slavic man rounded the corner; entering the school gardens, taking his place in the corner with his lunch. (Name) didn't even notice Mitsuya, far too focused on his hunger to realize he wasn't alone like usual.

The Japanese teen finally gains his confidence, standing from his spot on one of the benches. His steps were steady, and his expression showed a lack of interest - or rather calm despite his slight anxiety.

"Hey." Mitsuya calls out casually, causing (Name) to jump as he looks up from his food. It probably wasn't a good idea to interrupt someone in the middle of their lunch, but Mitsuya's mind was oddly scrambled when it came to (Name); his usual calm and collected self thrown out the window.

"Eh? Hi?" (Name) replies, glancing away as he rubs his throat; conscious of how he spoke. His accent has always been a problem, especially with the Japanese language; it's earned more than a few strange looks from locals - as if him being visibly not Japanese wasn't enough to earn strange looks on occasion. Yet, Mitsuya didn't seem to mind his accent, in fact - Mitsuya found it endearing.

"So uh... I just wanted to give this to you." Mitsuya states awkwardly, gesturing down to the thin box in his hands; which had his name written on it, which helped (Name) - as he didn't know Mitsuya's name till reading it on the box.

"Yeah? What's the reason?" The Slavic teen questions, shifting in his seat as he sets aside his lunch box; pulling one leg up in an attempt to seem casual - even though he was very confused and suspicious. Mitsuya glances away nervously, rocking back and forth on his heels; a nervous habit he rarely ever felt the need to do.

"It... It's just a little something I made- I just uh... Wanted to... I don't know-" Mitsuya chokes on his words, feeling his heartbeat speed up as his cheeks warm; he felt strangely embarrassed by his reasoning. "I just wanted to help you feel more welcome."

"Ah... Makes sense... I guess." (Name) mumbles, glancing down to the box as he accepts it; his mind racing for any sort of clue as to what this gift could be.

The silence that falls between them grows more and more awkward and uncomfortable by the minute, neither of them knowing what to say in the moment. Finally, Mitsuya mumbles a small goodbye before turning on his heel to leave the garden.

Once Mitsuya was gone, (Name) hesitantly opened the box - his eyes widening at the sight of familiar clothing. He can't help but smile, setting the lid aside as he runs his hand over the embroidered fabric; he wasn't Ukrainian, but he had childhood friends who were - they always leaned towards traditionalism. They often wore vyshyvankas, and some other clothing that (Name) couldn't remember for the life of him... But either way, the sight of the clothes brought back fond memories.

Lifting the clothing from the box (Name) notices something, there wasn't any sort of tag or label printed onto the fabric... Did Mitsuya make this just for him? There was a note at the bottom of the box, which (Name) quickly turned his attention to.

Hey, I just wanted to make you feel more comfortable and welcome here - we Japanese aren't always the nicest to foreigners or whatever. So I did some research and made you this, I hope you like it.

It was such a simple note, but it made (Name)'s heart skip a beat. It wasn't as if Mitsuya had bought him a gift, which would have been greatly appreciated as well... But the fact that Mitsuya made it - well that was a whole other level.

"I'll have to thank him later..."