#cw mould

[orangetubor]

My delicious cup of mould

[thefloatingstone]

My friend posted this to the group chat and I laughed at it for like 5 minutes straight

[sleep-even-d3ader]

I feel sick (sick?)

Hot and cold and nauseas

I feel like I've swallowed a bag of pins

I feel rotten (deceased)

Slow and muddy and ugly

Like old bushes

I feel like mould

Annoying and fuzzy and infectious

Maybe it's just how I feel. Maybe I am. Maybe it's feeling.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever

[mihrsuri]

Me: okay brain I get it - you take a look at ‘laundry in basement that is a bit dingy etc and also has a toilet and shower and a particular smell and you flash straight back to Awful Things but could we just…not?

Brain: no I have to.

Anyway oh wow everything in I guess my muscles are in pain and I had to remind myself I’m allowed to use the I pronoun for myself.

[beaft]

today's succession #hottake is that every attempt the roy kids make at rebelling against logan is futile because they are still defining themselves in relation to him. if you're orbiting a sun and you do a 180 you are still in orbit just in the opposite direction. the only way for them to really win is to completely distance themselves from him and everything that he represents, but they are incapable of doing that and he'll never let them. normal about it

[asinglesock]

wake up early in the morning so you can listen to the rats in the walls <3

[erinaceina]

Sometimes I idly browse rightmove, mainly to convince myself that having such a high mortgage wasn’t a catastrophic mistake. There’s a house advertised at the moment. Very cheap. Described as ‘charming’ and ‘perfect for some redecoration’ and ‘all located in a community-rich urban area’. You want to know what else it’s rich in? ASBESTOS. It used to snow asbestos in the streets around there. Children made snowballs with it. The area had the highest incidence of mesothelioma in the entire country. ENJOY YOUR ASBESTOS HOUSE.

[littlefoxwithbighat]

.

[evilgwrl]

ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (One)

Note: I'm having the WORST writer's block now so pls excuse my lack of proper writing... I'm currently sitting in front of a beach writing in hopes that ill gain inspo

CW: Angst, mentions of sex, jealous/possessive Simon, PLS DONT LEAVE YOUR KIDS IN THE CAR !!! Or break into someone’s house

Inspired by: Ex!Husband Simon

PART TWO

Simon stared at you. The shades of his eyes simmering into endless voids of obsidian, blonde lashes moulded against his greased lids, the residue of the perpetual torture his body had succumbed to during deployment.

“You want a divorce?” He spoke, voice deep as he flickered between your shaking heads, sweat soiling into the papers gripped firmly and your swollen face, cheeks feverish with a red hue, eyes even more so.

You held back a rough sob, throat stripped of all moisture evident in your hoarse voice as you spoke, “Yes, Simon. I think it would be best for our family… for us.”

He scoffed. “You think the best thing for our family is to separate?”

“We already pretty much are. You’re away for days, weeks, months at a time. We’re hardly a family and it’s difficult to explain to the children why I’m crying.”

“Ok then.”

That was it. You would admit, it stung. His lacklustre tone felt like a stab in the gut, the blade drenched with anthrax as it reared blistering sores internally, the effects having shown through your putrid complexion. Your skin was dull, practically lifeless, the only living form of you grew day by day through the darkening of eyebags that almost made you look apocalyptic.

It had been 12 months of separation, officially 8 being legally divorced. You kept his last name, the permanent burn of hearing Mrs Riley still searing through you with every syllable, yet you feel it would only hurt you more if they said Ms.

Simon was often away now, and the minimal family time he used to get felt pointless as the shabby apartment he moved into after the sudden interference of your mind-boggling news barely fit the two kids you shared. His body felt more relentless on him, the taunting of his mind fulgurated the inoperative reality that he would come home to you, to his family.

His voice, almost like it dropped an octave had grown richer in aggression, tormenting those he deemed suitable, both with his tongue and with his bruised knuckles, an oil painting of blue and purple hues radiating across the pale flesh as he shrugged it off to his team as “pushing himself and others to do better”.

Couldn’t you realise your mistake? Wouldn’t you prefer crying in his arms about his absence than never having it fulfilled again?

As he looked around the bleak environment, tan stained walls revolting the creaking mattress he had brought someone home to, someone who wasn’t you. It made him feel sick like a viral infection had slunk its way into his bloodstream as he laid next to a woman that failed to make his cock throb, endless images of you sprawled out under him flickering. No wonder he called out your name instead.

You felt the familiar shake of your hands every time your phone dinged; Simon’s dreary tone was evident through his dry “On the way” text. You ushered a day of your children’s life into their cartoon-themed backpacks, innocent smiles adorning their skin, doe-like eyes of brown, far too familiar to Simon’s staring up at you.

The sound of his car scraping into your paved driveway almost made you feel like throwing up, the nerves of seeing him combined with the already present pit of anxiety due to your date later turning you into one big shaky mess as you brushed it off as “too much caffeine”.

The echo of his car door slamming shut rung through your ears, staining you with the reiteration that your ex-husband was now at your door, heavy fists knocking upon the wood. The image you saw of him in your mind morphed back to reality as you stared at him, a blank expression on your face.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi, Simon.”

Your frown was clear, the pet name you were so used to becoming a distant memory in the past few months. It was a hole you were attempting to fill, to clear yourself away from his teasing tongue and faux impression of a healthy relationship. You were divorced for a reason, you knew that, but as you gazed upon the lack of life in his skin, it was almost like he was holding a mirror up to you.

“Daddy!” You watched as your 5-year-old, Ella, practically leapt into his hefty frame, his hands coiling around her like second nature. You could feel his warmth, the heat that would build in your stomach when you felt those same digits touch you.

“Hi sweetheart,” his voice gruff, yet tone lighter as he placed a delicate kiss on the skin of her forehead, “You miss me?”

She nodded, her face buried in the hem of his neck as your other child cooed from the bouncy chair, tubby legs attempting to wheel himself to the door.

“There’s my boy,” Simon practically cooed as he placed Ella down, bounding inside as he lifted the toddler out, grabby arms reaching out to pull at Simon’s locks, gentle tugs causing you to laugh.

Your voice cut through the scene like glass. Why would you want to destroy such a happy moment? Weren’t you supposed to be reuniting? Just say it, tell Simon you want him to come home, that you need him.

“This is Ella’s bag,” you speak, holding up the pink Minnie Mouse bag, “And this is Toby’s.” Your son giggled as he muffled out the words, “Transformers”.

Simon nodded, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Ella practically screeched, “Mummy’s going on a date!” The thrill of her laughter that followed only seemed to make the situation more awkward.

“A date?” Simon’s voice was deadly, the hair raising on your arms as you shook your head, a tight smile on your suddenly dry lips.

“No, no, nothing like that. Just catching up with an old colleague of mine.”

“But he’s a boy, Mummy,” Ella giggled. Who was raising your daughter to be such a big mouth? Your face formed an annoyed look, eyebrows raising as a line of wrinkles crinkled against your forehead, your pointer fingers massaging your temples.

“An old colleague?” Simon practically gasped. Had he met him at your old work Xmas parties?

“Let’s get you guys in the car.” You fumbled with Toby’s car seat as you strapped him in, your nimble fingers shaking with anxiety before you shut the door, pressing a kiss against the window before wiping away the minimal residue of dirt. Gross.

“Who is he?” His tone was acerbic like he was looking for an argument. How dare you try and replace him? He was your husband, the father of your two kids? Have you seen this random man before? Had he fucked you?

“God, Simon-“

“Who is he?” Simon was relentless, bullying his way into getting the answers as his arms folded across his chest, tattoos practically screaming at you too.

“His name’s Andrew. I ran into him at a coffee shop a few weeks back and he just wanted to catch up. That’s it.”

A loud scoff sounded in the air. “You mean that geezer from that corporate job you hated? The one who didn’t know it was weird to blatantly stare down your dress when you were standing next to your fucking husband?”

“He didn’t stare down my dress! You’re not my husband anymore, Simon. I can see who I want.”

“I don’t want our children to grow up thinking they have multiple dads.”

You’ll admit, that stung.

“Multiple dads? You’re out of your mind. The only reason they would ever believe they have multiple dads is if their real one stopped showing up. And where have you been, Simon? When have you shown up?”

Simon held his tongue, the warmth of the metallic taste gashing through his teeth as he practically snarled past you. “I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

The dress you wore was practically suffocating you as you tucked your stomach in. Simon never minded the change in your figure after motherhood, he found himself liking it even more. He loved knowing that his seed put you through that, that he made you swell with his children, and he brought out the glow in your cheeks and the delicate stretch marks that laced your hips.

Andrew was nice. His tone was comforting as he walked to your door, ushering you to his car as he insisted you could order whatever you wanted. He was handsome, the salt and pepper hues of his hair settling your insecurity.

“We’ll take the Pinot Noir,” he spoke, looking at you with an almost arrogant sheer in his blue eyes. You only liked white. Simon knew that just like he knew everything about y-

You’re not with Simon anymore. You had to realise that. Maybe that’s why you brought Andrew home, let him shove his cock (that was a lot smaller than what you were used to) inside your heat, as you let out moans you had mimicked from the porn you watched with the actor that resembled far too much of your ex-husband.

Simon's fingers gripped the steering wheel early the next morning, your two children snuggled up in the backseat as he drove back to his old house, your old home. He wasn’t a man who gave up easy, he would show you, prove to you that you made a mistake. You needed each other.

Hold on. You don’t drive a red car?

His car lurched into the entrance of your home, nearly ramming into the garage as he shoved it in park, rolling down the two back windows slightly for air as he dug around in the small side compartment of his car.

The familiar gold key he had stolen from you the night he packed up all his stuff stared back at him, practically egging him on. Go on Simon, march in there. So he did. His hand rattled against the door knob, glancing back to peak into the car for a second before he slammed the door shut.

Your body froze. Were you being robbed? No. It was only Simon. A very angry-looking Simon. You stood, the white sheet barely shielding your naked body as he took in the sight of the man next to you, his hands wrapping around his shoulders as he practically ripped him out of bed, flinging him onto the floor as he grunted, eyes reared with hatred.

“Simon, what the fuck are you doing? WHERE ARE THE KIDS?”

Andrew groaned, on the floor, covering his groin as Simon chucked the masculine clothes at his head, the thin boxers soiled across the man’s scalp as he trembled.

“Our kids are asleep in the car, waiting for their Mummy to come to the zoo with them.” Simon’s words were despicable, laced with an acrimonious tone, small particles of spit seething through his lips as stared at you.

He turned to the man, a giant frame staggering over the top of him. “Get the fuck out, and if you wake up our kids when you go past, I will personally put a bullet straight in the middle of your skull,” he said, pushing a thick digit against his forehead as Andrew rushed out, clothes barely on before you felt the front door shut, a cry of apologises leaving your lips as you tried to assist him but Simon only held you back, a tight grip coiling around your arm.

“What the fuck was that? How’d you get in?” You couldn’t even place the words to say, humiliation roaring through you as you snuggled the sheet closer to you, away from his peering eyes.

“It’s time to be a family again, don’t you think love?”

[texas-bbq-pringles]

i love student housing (get me the fuck out of here)

[orangetubor]

There's something so poetic about the dead fly on my window blooming with fungi

[sanatomis]

cw. none except satoru being disgustingly cute (part 2)

satoru isn’t used to people calling him anything other than his surname. gojo-san to most, gojo-sensei to others. it’s simple, and gets the job done.

only a handful of people stick to calling him by his given name. to them, he’s satoru. it’s easy, and rolls of the tongue, and he greatly prefers it over the sound of his surname. it makes him feel like an actual person.

satoru never entertained the possibility of being called anything else other than those two names. he didn’t think it would ever happen.

for once, he was glad to be proven wrong.

“tough day, pretty?” you ask gently, and he sighs with a nod as he throws himself into your opened arms. his body moulds easily into yours, and he lets out a heavy groan as he settles onto the couch with you. the groan is loud, and over-exaggerated.

it’s so satoru.

you have to stifle a giggle.

“everything went horribly wrong,” he grumbles, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “the higher ups were up my ass again, my students laughed at me again, and when i finally made it to that bakery you liked they were out of your favourite pastries so i couldn’t get them for you—again!”

“oh, my poor baby,” you coo, and gently push his bangs out of his face. he nods in agreement, faking an immense amount of sympathy for himself. “‘s okay, at least you tried, hm? i think that’s very sweet.”

satoru hums, as if he’s deeply thinking about your words. “’m still your baby?” he mumbles, deciding that’s the most important thing right now. his eyes briefly flutter shut, consumed by utter bliss as you play with the hairs on his undercut.

“mhm, still my baby.”

“yeah? what else am i?”

this time you do giggle. he does this sometimes. you aren’t exactly sure why—but on tough days, satoru likes to crawl into your arms and listen to you call him every cheesy nickname under the sun. it’s easily providable and makes him so very happy, so you always indulge him.

“my honey bun.”

“and?”

“my boo bear.”

“mhm.”

“my sweetheart.”

“yes?”

you laugh softly. “my mochi,” you coo, and pinch his cheek. it’s a little squished because he’s laying on your chest, but it emphasises your point.

he grins under your touch. it’s adorable.

“keep them coming, please?” he asks, and you do. you always do, unable to refuse him. especially when he asks so sweetly.

“my sugar cookie.”

“my muffin.”

“my baby cakes.”

“my angel.”

“my love.”

“my husband.”

“h—huh?” satoru stammers, looking up from your chest. he lays his chin on your sternum, baby blue eyes blinking up at you. they’re filled with awe, surprise, and utter glee. “that’s, i’m not. . .”

“just testing the title, baby,” you tell him, and continue playing with his hair. he bathes in your touch and you smile softly as he grabs and kisses the palm of your hand. “what do you think, hm?”

“i think you should call me it again.”

“oh?”

“mhm,” he mumbles.

“my dearest husband.”

“again.”

“my handsome husband.”

“again.”

“my sweet husband.”

“again, please?”

you hum, impressed. “my well-mannered husband.”

satoru chuckles, and lays back down on your chest. his white hair tickles against your skin, and he sighs in content.

“i think i want to be your husband for real.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he mumbles and nuzzles further into your hold. “y’ve got the same ring size still, right?”

“i sure do,” you say, a content smile on your lips as you watch him slowly doze off to sleep.

“hm, good to know.”

for satoru, those nicknames make him feel as if he’s something even greater than a person—it makes him feel yours.

he’s not just gojo, the strongest. he’s not just satoru, the at-times somewhat immature adult with the sweet tooth of a child.

he’s yours. your baby. your honey bun. your boo bear. your mochi. your boyfriend. your love. and for satoru, there’s no greater thing in the world than that.

[anantaru]

dragon neuvillette horn touching…

cw. monsterfucking (dragon), he has scales, horn touching (sensitive horns), size kink/size difference, fem! reader

neuvillette was always exceptionally gentle with your body and how he touched you— more so until you're reduced to utter mindlessness, with tears caking your lashes as he lifts and pulls your hips together.

the undertones of carnal desire a mystical being like the iudex had was visibly showing, with remnants of rough scales decorating the area around his chest and abs— all for your eyes to feast on as he yanks your body against his hips before pushing his weight flat onto your chest, your legs spreading widely apart.

a shriek arises in your throat when he dips his hips back into you, an unholy, flourishing need for pleasure holding you hostage as neuvillette pursued it without mercy— your heart turning into a lump in your throat as the chilling vibrations of each thrust settles on your skin.

aside from that, the strange presence of, well, someone who clearly wasn't human made you wince and twist under his much larger weight. it's making it a whole lot more intimate because you know neuvillette trusted you and had no issue in showing you all of him— like his dazzling, turquoise scales, or his lustrous horns glowing through the shadow of the room and overturning the desire in his eyes.

your body shakes from the penetration of his cock pushing past the muscular ring of your hole when at the same time, you're unable to move from the immediate sensation of being overstimulated as the harshness of his blows thunders on you and parts like waves from your wet sex.

immediately, your hands weave into his hair to hold his body close as you're being surrounded by his muscular chest rubbing across your nipples with his soaked erection mercilessly drilling to the hilt of you, splitting you so deliciously, as well as claiming and striking bursts of electricities along your nerve endings.

you focus on neuvillette's face, particularly when you accidentally brush your fingers around the base of his horns, making him wince out due to the sudden trace catching him off guard— his jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed when you do it again.

he likes it, you're certain of that, and the veins on his shaft swell as he fucks your sloppy cunt when you continue to touch his horns and rub your pads into them— becoming entranced by his veins moulding their trace into your walls.

neuvillette squeezes his eyes shut and exhales through his mouth at the feeling you put him through when his hands grip at your hips as he fucks you as quick and sloppy as he can, his domineering aura causing a brutality on your core when loud moans leave your lips on each thrust.

It seems like neuvillette was everywhere, unimaginably hard and hot buried in your cunt while touching all of the soft, secret places and making you twist and writhe in ecstasy— it's wet and messy as well, the noisy squelches coming from your sore hole are absolutely driving him into madness as neuvillette groans into your lips when you tug on his horns, his cock aching and his balls throbbing.

but he won't stop, neither does he want you to stop touching him like that either.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[crimsonbubble]

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, breeding kink, creampies, overstimulation, masturbation *not proofread, just pure horny

[It do be my birthday so here is milkman breeding session <33] here are some refs for you @smmy-winchster @partycatty

You should be glad he came at the time he did, otherwise you would've been caught a long while ago.

You're being pressed into your desk, your thighs closed tightly around Francis’ hips. The sound of your arousal was evident. There was a growing pool of cum coating your swollen cunt. Francis looked down between your messy thighs, watching how your pretty hole stretched around his length.

“So sorry for making you wait, my darling.” His cock throbbed again, more cum managing to spurt out of him. His low groans trialled into short whimpers, his sensitivity growing with each pump. His fingers dipped into your hips, realigning his hips back before pushing forward and pulling you down onto him. His cock speared you open, coating your walls in a sticky white.

“Easy my dear, I'm not done.” His words are a whisper against your skin, a promise of something more. His breathing is heavy, his cock pulsing within your warm walls. You pushed your hips down against him, meeting his thrusts halfway. Francis tugged your legs up higher, letting them rest over his shoulders. His hands held tighter on your hips, desperately pulling your soft body onto him.

You're lost in your own cloud of lust, only focused on the way Francis moulds your pussy to accommodate his length. The wet squelch reaches your ears too quickly, flustering you as you listen to how easily he slides in and out of your slick cunt.

His hands spread across the sides of your stomach before he trails one down, rubbing his thumb against your puffy clit. Your back bows, craving him harder, faster, and deeper. You can feel every vein and every pulse as Francis rammed himself inside you again and again.

He could feel his own cock twitch, swiftly pulling out to coat your messy cunt with another layer of white. He continues to stroke himself through his orgasm, slapping his tip against your clit. 

“You can handle a few more, right? Be good for me and let me fill you up, yea?”

[beautifulbrainrot]

So picture this, spencer gets so wasted at a party with the bau and you take him home and in his drunken state he pushes you onto the couch and starts making out with you and humps your leg until he either passes out or cuts and falls asleep, but he thought it was a dream so he was mortified when he woke up on top of you the next morning

that’s so hot omfg

i had so much fun writing this! you have a beautiful and very dirty brain i love it

spencer reid x gn!reader

cw 18+ spencer is drunk, you arent, or your at least a bit tipsy it’s not specified but you do drive, making out, leg hunping?? idfk, coming in pants (yum), kinda swaps povs? idk

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

“come on spence, let’s get you inside.” you said, hauling spencer out of your car. he tripped over his feet as he stepped onto the pavement, stumbling into you.

“you smell re- really good!” he giggled, dopey smile on his face. spencer rarely drank so it was no surprise that it only took a few drinks to have him absolutely wasted. what did suprise you was what a giggly and touchy drunk he was.

he pulled away from you and planted his hands on your hips, biting his lips as his eyes shamelessly ran over your body.

“you’re.. so pretty, like so pretty! i just wanna-“ he whined, biting his lip and swaying slightly on the spot.

you blushed slightly at his candour, smiling internally. you shook it off, he’s your coworker! he’s just being nice!

you wrapped your arms around his waist as you helped him walk up the steps to his apartment, unlocking the door with the key he had given you a few months prior in case of emergencies.

you both stumbled through the apartment door, clicking on a lamp for some light. his apartment was small and homely and filled with books. you led spencer over to the brown couch in the middle of the room, both of you flopping down on it.

he quickly snugged into you, a blush erupting on your face as he did. he looked up at you with his big doe eyes and you bit your lip. don’t kiss him. do not kiss him, you repeated to yourself as your eyes drifted down to his plump lips.

his eyes raked over your form as you both lay there, seemingly mesmerised by you. this time when his doe eyes flicked up to look at you they were filled with lust.

“you’re so beautiful...” he whispered, closing the space between you, pressing his lips against yours. you gasped but quickly returned the kiss, holding his face in your hands as the kiss turned passionate, your lips moulding together as you pulled each other as close as possible. you pulled away from him slightly when you started to feel him rutting his steadily growing erection against your leg softly as he chased your lips

“spence..?” you questioned softly, a deep blush spreading across your face as your coworker gently humped against your leg.

he whined your name as his eyes squeezed shut, his mind foggy, delving back in for another kiss which you quickly granted. as you kissed, you gently brushed your hand through his soft curls, tugging lightly to see his reaction. he moaned softly at the feeling, his hips speeding up their movements against you.

you couldn’t believe this was happening. and you never wanted it to stop.

you started to gently move your leg against him, a whine slipping out of his bitten lips at the extra friction. you were desperate to hear that sound agains, bouncing your leg slightly as he rubbed against you. more whimpers and whines fell out of his parted lips as you did this, his eyes sqeeezed shut as he surrendered to the pleasure. you drank in his desperate moans hungrily, drunk on him.

his hips began to speed up and you could tell his orgasm was approaching. you lifted his chin with your thumb causing him to open his eyes to look at you, his pupils blown in lust as he humped you faster, chasing his release. you pulled him in again for a passionate kiss as he came hard in his pants, his hips slowing down as you continued to kiss him more softly.

he fell asleep on top of you, exhausted from the drinking and your activities. you ran your hand through his tousled curls softly before drifting to sleep yourself, dreaming of him.

-

“mmm..” spencer moaned softly as he rutted against you.

you grasped his chin between your thumb and forefinger gently, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

his hips stuttered, warmth filling his pants as he came.

spencer’s eyes opened slowly, eyes blurry and head pounding. this is why you don’t drink spencer. he bit his lip softly at the dream he had had about you, how good you had made him feel. he knew he should be thinking of his coworker like this but he just couldn’t help it.

he blinked a couple of times to clear the blurryness from his vision, becoming aware of the fact he was on his couch. how did i get here? oh someone drove me.. who was it?

spencer’s eyes widened as he realised, turning over on the couch to see your sleeping face behind him. it wasn’t a dream. holy fuck it wasn’t a dream?!?

spencer gasped lightly as your eyes blinked open.

“hey spence,” you yawned, “why are you starting at me..” you questioned, eyebrow raised as you rubbed your tired eyes.

he blushed furiously as he looked at you, memories of the previous night filling his head.

“did we.. last night. did us- we- actually.. um.. do that?” he squeaked out, blush spreading across his face.

a blush spread across your face as you looked at him, all the memories flooding back to you. you bit your lip as you looked up at him, “i think so.. yeah..” you said, your cheeks burning.

“it was.. kind of nice..”

“yeah.. it was” you smiled, reaching up to cradle his face in your hand. you pulled him in, pressing your lips against him softly. he quickly deepened the kiss, clambering on top of you.

“round two?”