#egypt pounds

[milkywayrollercoaster]

Libras Egípcias

foto cjmn

[bookskittychad]

it's beyond disgusting that palestinians who want to escape to a country that is right next to them have to pay to what amounts to 150000 egyptian pounds for a single person.

[andithiel]

Horrible Goose fest fic: Pubic Relations

Three years ago I started writing a gift fic for my lovely friend @sassy-sassy3 where I took inspiration from Lil' Nas X song "Montero (Call me by your name)". Unfortunately, I wasn't able to finish it, and then it's been left on the shelf, collecting dust and making me feel guilty (so much that I wrote Sassy another gift fic as a placeholder). So when I saw the @horriblegoosefest I took it as a sign for me to finally get my shit together and give Sassy all the first time goodness she deserves. I was so happy and relieved to be paired with the amazingly kind and talented @nv-md (who I've admired from afar), and she's been gently honking me on while finishing this fic. Thank you so much Ali, I really appreciated you as my goose and having you yelling at me in the doc.

I also want to thank @etalice for the encouragement I needed to do a massive sprint and for keeping me writing company. And @crazybutgood for offering to beta for me when I was struggling to meet the deadline. And of course, massive thanks to the mods for hosting this fest and all the work you've done with it (not to mention the patience and understanding you showed when I needed extensions).

Read Pubic Relations on AO3

[witekspicsbanknotes]

Egypt >>> designs of 50 pounds notes.

[tojisteddy]

Jumping The Gun

or: the one where John Price fucks the idea of marriage into you.

cw: 5.9k words (gawd DAMN), 18+ MDNI, klutz in love!Price, kinda toxic!Price, smut with plot, no use of y/n, dumbification, squirting, p in v, protected & unprotected sex, dubcon, dumbification, creampie, breeding kink, marathon!, cum eating, engagement, reader!has tattoos, reader!is in denial of Egypt, Daddy said a couple times idk, john visuals, reader visuals,

a/n: My Whole Life by Alina Baraz *chefs kiss*

Everyone in the 141 was shocked when John Price came back after taking a month an a half off for leave with a golden ring on his ring finger, a new picture frame to place on his desk, and practically jumping off the roof to fill out more paperwork for a special someone. Again.

You were his third marriage.

John was good at making quick decisions, making up his mind at the exact right time when it was do or die. But the old man was a complete klutz when it came to love.

The first marriage, admittedly, was never gonna last long. He was fresh out of highschool, still in the infantry and married his highschool sweetheart. His parents were sceptical but supportive. It wasn’t uncommon to marry early, hell, his parents did so why couldn’t he?

It just wasn’t in the cards.

The distance and the worry was just too much. The divorce was clean cut since they didn’t have any kids and we’re still young. Him and his ex-wife, Cara, were still fairly close. He’d get a call from the woman and her husband (surprisingly) to come over for dinner every once in a while. No bad blood.

But that second marriage? John was a goddamn idiot.

Was it his fault he married with his eyes and not with his brain? Yes. A man is still a man at the end of the day. You see a woman with an amazing set of knockers on her, pretty blue eyes, skinny waist and blonde hair— you’d fall for it too!

She was obnoxious, loud, and always, always, always needed new clothes, shoes, hair and nails done. Now John had no problem spending on his woman, he’d bring down Jupiter if had to. The problem was she complained and whined. Complained about the clothes not being ‘high quality enough,’ the house not being big enough, the brand new convertible not pink enough. Whined when she went over the already pricey budget the man set for her, that she couldn’t spend his life savings on her, that John was too hairy, ran too warm, too tall—no fucking sense.

He got out of the marriage by the scrape of his teeth, lucky that his siblings convinced him to get a prenup. She left with no pounds to her name, shoving all her belongings in that hot pink convertible and crying that no money went to her when the captain had sold the house.

But you? Oh you. His honey, sweet girl, little wanderer— you were the real deal.

John was walking with a couple friends heading to some bar a few hours after being back in the UK. You were walking the opposite direction, bags from different stores after a day of shopping in your hand. You looked like a model, long black trench coat on, a fitted baby blue crop top, black leather shorts that showed off the tattoos that went down your legs, slouched heeled boots that went mid calf. Curls blowing in the wind, you thankfully hadn’t noticed the hairy fellow till you bumped into him.

“You alright?”

Your brown eyes met his blue ones as he steadied you upright. You were awe struck, as if you were meeting a famous person on the street but you had just ran into a good looking older, muscular, brunette with a few stray grey hairs. You slowly started nodding, laughing aloud at yourself at how dumb you probably looked. “ ‘M just fine.” You said breathlessly.

You started to hear the passing cars, bustle of the streets and the murmur from your phone as your friend on the line was calling out to you. “Shit, I-I gotta go.”

And your feet was guiding you away without another word but your eyes were still glued to the man as you walked away. Looking back as he watched you walk away. You chuckles as you got back on the phone with your friend, disappearing into the croud.

The second time he saw you he was heading for a tea, as he walked past ‘Walker Travel Agency.’ John glanced inside and there a woman sat— no— you, sat turning in your chair towards the computer as you spoke to someone through your Bluetooth. You were dressed in an oversized white button up, black slacks, hair now pin straight in a low ponytail, pinned back by a few purple clips with very a light blush on your cheeks.

Even dressed casually, you were a sight for sore eyes. He tried his best not to look like a creep as he finally went to go get his tea but his eyes were glued to you as he walked past the office again. He figured it was fine just this once. Twice, three times— okay, maybe a forth that was completely out of the way of the military base and his own home but this was fine.

He was just getting tea after all.

But the forth time you stood by the water cooler sipping water, you caught those blue eyes. A small smile formed on your face as he tripped a bit once he saw you finally looking back at him. You gave him a small, shy wave with your fingers before he completely passed the building. Your angelic smile growing wider as he passed the building again to get to his car.

And that continued for another week, waves and smiles and stupid blushes that made his heart jump outs until he finally got the courage to pop his head in. He’d just say hello, this was a silly crush. Nothing more, nothing less.

The doorbell chimed once the door opened and you immediately sat straight in your chair, as you were trained to do when a potential customer came in.

“I was thinking of a trip?”

No he wasn’t. He knew that, you knew that by the way he was completely dressed in military attire and kept staring at you instead of the posters of different vacation spots on the wall. But you nodded your head, gesturing for him to take a seat in front of your desk.

“Where would you like to go sir?”

You two hit it off after that. John would pop his head in, leaving thirty minutes before his lunch break even started just to get his little dose of you, before running off to get a tea. You even started making tea so he didn’t have to go to the coffee shop.

Right, it was his lunch break?

You’d made sure to start packing lunch for two and arranging meetings so your lunch break was suddenly at the same time as his. You didn’t know why you did it for your new friend, it just felt right. You made that forty something year old man feel like a teenager again, he couldn’t just sit on this crush forever. He wouldn’t.

*Care to join me for a pint after work?*

A simple text that he’d debated on for two days had him flushed.

*new message*

Don’t usually drink beer :(

Two days down the drain. Maybe he should’ve asked for dinner instead? Or a movie? A walk? Too fucking causal—

*new message*

but if you’re the one asking, how can I say no?

text me where baby :))

Gaz had to make sure he wasn’t sick before he left work that day because he was as red as a cherry tomato.

You laid it out clean to John that you weren’t ready for a relationship.

“ ‘M too flighty ya see.”

“How so?” You two had already been in the crowded pub at a booth, you’d been chatting for 3 hours already senselessly. One pint for each of you, you weren’t good with beer while John just didn’t wanna make a drunken mistake.

“I told you I’ve just been here for a year, right?”

He hummed, nodding for you to continue.

“Well I was in Brazil before that, Osaka for a couple months before that. DR, LA and France before all that.”

“Oh, you’re a real traveler I see.”

“More than you.” You smirked and John laughed, “Think you can beat me sweetheart? Been all over the world ‘nd back. Thrice over.”

You teased, “I can beat’cha soon enough, just wait on it.” You sighed, picking up your half empty glass to take a sip, “But really, a relationship right now is a no-can-do for me. I’d hate to waste yer time after you’ve been so kind t’me honey.”

“Not a single moment with you has been a waste’ve time, believe me [+].” It was gentle but stern, your fingers brushed over the table which made your heart race faster.

John was too sweet, sinkingly so. It made you question how his marriages didn’t work sometimes but you kept your mouth shut about it. You gave him a smile, “I wouldn’t mind bein fuck buddies though.”

His thick eyebrows furrowed together, “Oh John come on now, you ain’t that old!”

Friends who fucked, he knew what it was. But with you? Someone that he’d grown to care for? This was a line he preferred not to cross.

But damn, those brown eyes under the dim light, the mid length blow out that went just below your shoulders, your long sleeve flared blouse that showed off your cleavage just right, wasn’t helping. He hadn’t even realized he’d given you a ‘sounds good to me’ before you gave him an okay and went on to another topic as if you two hadn’t just agreeded to be sex partners.

The night came to a close around 10:50, John didn’t want you at the station by yourself late at night since you were a woman so he took you home.

“I’m a grown woman, John.” You insisted for the thousandth time.

“Yer a grown woman that ‘m drivin home. Exactly. Yer right.” John nodded along with you nonchalantly and you groaned into a giggling fit, no longer being able to fight with him over this.

You pulled up to your apartment and pointed out a parking spot, John followed suit. Thinking you’d probably rather get out of a parked car than hold up traffic on a Friday night.

You got out the car, looking between your apartment building and the older man.

“You wanna come up?”

John fucking Price was a god damn problem.

The first time you two fucked, was just to dip your toes in. See if the older man could handle you, keep up with what you were up to.

The second time was for good measure. You had to make sure it wasn’t an illusion! Get your bearings in order.

The third time— looking back you should’ve known that’s when he caught you. And I mean really had you for good because you’d be damned if he was fucking some other girl the way he was fucking you.

You had to have a cordial briefing with your friend group, explaining to them how you were now a born again Christian because John didn’t just have you seeing stars. No— you saw Jesus resurrecting from the tomb, legs shaking as they were wrapped around his hips. Chest to chest, as John knelt on the bed, fucking up into you through your orgasm. You’d pushed yourself away from him but he snatched you up just before you passed out.

“Stay with me lovie, can’t have you passin out on me can I?” His pink lips connected with your neck again. Your entire body was trembling. This fool, this barbarian, loooved making you a dummy on his dick. You’d learned that the second time. But this time, fuck, it was strange.

“Strange, baby, it feels- mmph s-strange.” You mumbled through a moan, you were limp as he held onto your waist with one arm, bouncing you just the way he needed you to. He was practically using you as a sex toy and you hadn’t minded. You were drooling on his shoulder and down your own face and that freak kept lapping it up. Opening your mouth so he could spit it back in you and suck on your tongue.

“Your tight little cunt squeezing me so good. You love when I suck your tongue, don’t you pretty?”

Your eyes were rolling into each other again, “loooove it sooooo much Daddy.”

“Come on, kiss me while I give it to you.” He didn’t have to tell you twice to get your lips to latch onto his. John kissed so romantic like, slow, desperate— like he was trying to mold the two of you together and you loved it. John’s thrusts got fast, barley pulling out with every swing of his hips up into your tight walls. But he kept hitting your g-spot, clit rubbing right at the bottom of his hairy abdomen. It felt amazing— too amazing—

You yankied yourself away from him again, “wait! ‘M serious- J- fuuuck- John! It’s too weird! I’m- shit- ‘m gonna pee!”

“ ‘S not pee, let it go.” He gruffed, groaning at how good you felt around his swelling cock.

“It isssss!” You whined out, slapping at his arms but he wouldn’t let up.

“Come on sweet girl, squirt all over me. Wanna be covered in you.”

And the crash came, water works flying every which way and your eyes. John came right after you, babbling about how good you were, how amazing you felt around him. But you were crying real tears now, you swore you just peed all over this older man’s thighs even though you told him it was weird. It was humiliating.

“I told you I was gonna pee, ‘nd you didn’t listen!” You hiccuped, covering your face as John laid you back on the bed. He’s eyebrow lifted as he slipped out of you, removing the filled condom and examining the situation that was now on his pudgy stomach, his thighs, your legs and the bed.

“Sweetie,” he started chuckling at how cute were being, you shoved one of your wobbly legs at his chest. It didn’t do any damage. “Have you never squirted before?”

“No,” you sniffled, “ ‘s just pee!”

“ ‘S not the same thing lovie.”

“Yes it issss!” You retorted, going to kick him again but your own leg giving up on you.

John rubbing your thighs as he got inbetween them. Your pussy was glistening in the rooms light, too mesmerized, he let the pads of two fingers take a swipe of all the juices that sat on your vulva and putting it in his mouth. He moaned at the taste.

You gasped, “John!” You hadn’t meant to see the sight through your fingers but shit, it was making you even more wet. The older saw you squirm, shaking his head, he needed a front row seat this time. He lifted your thighs over his shoulders so his mouth was right in front of your cunt.

“Gotta feel it on my tongue baby, won’t you? Please?”

You two went on like that, calling each other whenever you needed. You were always the first to know when the Captain got home, before his own family, because he’d have his fat cock in you by the time you could finish saying ‘welcome back.’

John couldn’t lie and say it was inconvenient getting to let off steam other than exercising or taking a swing of bourbon. It didn’t help that you were actually such a sweet girl, he loved being around. You two would hang out when you had the chance, going out and about or just watching a movie at home. When you were out, all dolled up in a mid thigh, navy blue sun dress and white heels showed off those gorgeous legs, curls in a high ponytail— you two looked like a sugar daddy and a sugar baby. But you never cared about the looks people gave you, you’d grab his larger hand in yours that was freshly manicured with long soft yellow nails and swing your hands back and forth. Even taking the time to introduce the man properly when you ran into your friends on the street.

“He’s a real carin, smart and just all around incredible guy I swear,” Your eyes would beam at him, so longingly then back to your friends and back to John because you always found yourself getting lost in his pretty ocean blue eyes. “I’m real thankful to have met a man like him.”

How could he have not fallin for you?

It was when you and John accidentally ran into his parents while casually hanging out in his home town he knew he just had to marry you.

You were as charismatic as ever, your southern charm easily pulling them in. John thought for sure they’d be more careful since you were younger than the past two women that John brought to meet them. But despite how eccentric you looked in your shorts that hung off your hips, waist beads around your stomach, crop top and the tattoos that his parents generation definitely weren’t used to, layered necklaces and bracelets— they easily fell for you just like he did.

“You sure ‘bout takin them out for lunch, [+]? You don’t have to.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling out of the parking spot and onto the road.

“It’s only right to treat the folks who raised you John. They’ve done well with you, ‘nd ‘m sure your siblings ‘re just as kind. Plus I kinda wanna see more of your smile through your mom. It’s sooo fuckin cute.”

Yup.

That was right there confirmed, he was gonna put a ring on that fuckin finger. He could’ve blurted it out while at that quaint little lunch you had. His parents adored you, even got your number down to give you a call if you needed anything while you were still in the UK.

The man was gonna get you to stay in the UK.

The first time he’d asked, it was too fucking casual. Again, the man was always too eager. Tripping and falling through love was a bad habit of his. You’d laughed in his face.

“John, baby, please be serious.” You threw your braids up in a ponytail, tip toeing around the room to get your clothes. John did that on purpose, the old man always wanted a little more time with you, to see the sunrise kissing your skin perfectly as that after glow of sex looked gorgeous on you.

He’d pout under that thick beard, fuckin precious bear, “ ‘M bein serious. Want us t’get married, be happy.”

“Don’t you leave next week John?”

“So?”

You deadpanned, “John.”

Okay, he was too eager that time. He should’ve thought it though. Right, you deserved proper proposal planning. Not some random after sex question. You made your way over to that big guy, he was still naked, sitting on the bed with his feet on the floor. You bent over, that same gleam in your brown eyes that shown every time you looked at him. He could’ve fuckin melted right then and there as you placed your hands on his knees, leaving a long a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips.

“You call me if ya need anything John. I mean it, even if it’s those fuckin cookies-“

“—Biscuits—“

“—Whateverrr~” you giggled, lightly touching his beard as John took your waist in his hands. Shit, he’d miss you. Miss your kindness, your willingness to drop everything for him, those long lashes that fluttered when you woke up. “I’ll send ‘em yer way, letter ‘f course too. Whatever ya need, John, you let me know.”

With the softest kiss on the lips, you were on your merry way just as you usually were.

The second time John proposed, he did it right.

He had a proper ring. Simple, because you loved simple. The box was in his pants pocket the entire night, itching to get out. You went to a nice fancy dinner to a place you swore you’d only told him once about, took you for a nice stroll, your curls in a half up, half down, dress hugging you just right and John was in a dressy casual. Ultra simple, classic. He was sure he’d get a yes this time.

He hadn’t even gotten the chance to get on he knee before you’d grab his hands. Your bottom lip trembling.

“Sweetheart…”

“Need you tuh listen t’me baby, please.” You pleaded, tears already threatening to burst out like a dam.

“Now I care ‘boutcha so much John. So much that I hate myself fer puttin you in a situation like this.” You sniffled, squeezing his hand to reassure him.

“But ya can’t marry me.” John lamented.

“John—“

“—what is it then? Is it the age gap? I thought you’d gotten over it.”

“John-“ “-clothes? I’ll give it to you. Want me to shave? Done. Love? I’ve got multitudes. If it’s money- it’s yours.” He was racking his brain for something, anything that could’ve draw you to keep him near. 

“I don’t want your money John.” You cursed.

“Then what do you want?! Why can’t I give it to you?!”

“I want your happiness above all else John! But I can’t-“ your voice croaked. You let go of his hands, “I can’t give that back to ya. I know I can’t.”

“Tha’s a fuckin lie—“

“—I’m sorry John. Truly.”

Without another word, you’d ran off. Your heals clicking against the pavement, cries heard through the silent park.

You’d known John for a year but technically only about 5 months since he was away for the other seven. But you knew so much about him, he’d send letters whenever he could, call, text and be right with you when he was back because it ‘felt like the place he needed to be’. It wasn’t a shock that John had grown to love you, it was a shock that you’d grown to love him too.

It scared the living shit out of you.

So you did what you always did.

Move.

It never took you long, you always had a storage unit ready, a few cardboard boxes in the back of your closet, a new job to hire you in another country because you always knew a little bit of the language. But this time you didn’t move far enough, you didn’t have to heart to. If John were to call you right now, you would’ve dropped what you were doing and ran to him.

Which is why you blocked him on everything (even though he didn’t use social media that often).

You moved yourself to the countryside, in a much smaller apartment but in a much quieter town by the sea. You were working the front of a fish market, did you know about fish? No. Did they hire you because you were pretty and your endless list of credentials at other random places on your resume? Yes. You didn’t have a problem with blending right in, building peoples trust with ease.

It was a good and bad habit.

John on the other hand was loosing his mind because he didn’t know where the hell you were. He couldn’t call you, couldn’t text you, and you weren’t replying to his letters. Fuck, the man called his parents and they managed to get an answer but only vague answers.

He’d come to you flat after being away, rushing through (but properly taken care of) a mission because he needed to make sure you were alright. As he rung thr buzzer, he got no answer. He was lucky one of your neighbors came out and told him what had happened.

How could you have moved without telling him, of all people?

It hurt him more than anything to have a mishap like that happen and then not be able to contact you. But to move? With no explanation?

He could play cat and mouse.

He’d play it constantly in the 141, taking down terrorists and the like in less than a couple weeks— you’d be an easy find. He was sure of it.

He’d found you soon enough, a couple days, in that god damn fish market, a wide smile on your face as you talked to the multiple people who crowded the stall where you worked. Why were you working here of all places?

He ignored the growing concerns, joining the line of customers at the stall. Most of the customers having something to say to you and you encouraging more conversation as they made their orders and paid. Then it was his turn. He took a step forward and you looked up at him like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart dropped out of your ass. He looked to the fish that sat on display on ice, then to you and titled his head.

“When do you get off?”

“John-“

“-When.” The older man spoke tightly. It came out more like a statement than a question.

The lady who worked with you, Malissa, chimed in with a knowing smile, “Give ‘er an hour.”

Your eyes widened at the older woman whilst John gave her a pleased look, “I’ll be around.” John left the building and you felt your stomach turn over. You glared at Malissa and she laughed at you, “But it’s love, isn’t it [+]?”

Was it that obvious?

Couldn’t have been. As if the blush showed on your brown cheeks. You gave him the same smile you did everyone else, didn’t you? The same kindness, same glances you snuck, soft touches, and the same brushing of fingers. The way you held onto that man’s arm as you presented him to your friends like a trophy, you did the same to anyone else you admired, right? Right?

No fucking way you did. John was the one, well, situation you fully committed to head first. And you didn’t even know when that happened, you liked the thought of someone romantically caring for you, the kindness and joy that was always a package deal when being in that guys presence. Someone that took you and your hopes and dreams serious for once in your life.

Oh God, you were in deep love with John Price.

You could’ve been thrown across the field by your own heart pounding so loud when you walked out of the market. John sitting on the bench, cigar between his fingers, watching the passersbyers and then at you. He stood, nodding for you to follow him in some direction.

“Let’s take a walk.”

The tension was too damn high. You could feel it through the air as you too walked, the only sound being made was the sound of you feet on pavement, the jingle of keys, the sea in the distance. Your curls were probably a mess now, the cold air blowing every which way.

“How’ve you been?” You tried cutting through the ice, eyes finding anything else to look at.

John paused for a moment, a sigh coming out, “I didn’t think you hated me enough to block me [+].”

You winced, as if it pained you to hear those words alone. “I could never hate you John.”

“Then why-“ another frustrated sigh, “You switched jobs to avoid me!”

You squinted your eyes, “Why would you wanna see me after that John!? There was nothing more to say. I was trying to make your life easier!”

“And why would life be easier without you?” His eyebrows furrowed, hand on his hip. He kept rubbing his face.

You opened your mouth to say something, try to get out of the mess you made but nothing would come out. John wanted to laugh at this but it’s not like it would be genuine. Scoffing, he flicked the end of the cigar to the ground. You were like a Hurricane, create a mess to keep people away but right at the center, there was a serene calm. Only soft winds. You didn’t know what you were doing with yourself. John, saw that.

“I’ll take you home.”

“I can walk from here though.”

John gently took your hand in his, looking down at you with sincerity in his blue eyes. “You know how I feel about you bein alone like this. Let me take you home.”

It didn’t take much convincing, it was just a short 5 minute drive from the hills you stood now to your flat. John opened the door to the car for you, making sure you were safely tucked in before slamming it shut and getting in the drivers side. He drove off, down to the main road but then passed the street you had pointed out.

“Where we going?”

“Home.”

“But my place is-“

“—[+], please.” His jaw was clenched, gripping the wheel and your thigh. “You hate it so much, you yell to the rooftops that ya hate me. Despise every breath I breathe. I’ll stop right now.”

Like you would. You huffed, crossing your arms and looking out the window.

John didn’t get irritated easy. Patience was a vertue, that’s what his parents told him all the time. After two marriages you’d think the man would’ve learned by now.

But the man was starving for you, aching to have you say you were his and he was yours after all this and you still not knowing what you wanted— he’d make the decision for you.

You would be his wife and you two were getting married.

The thought of John being mean hadn’t crossed your mind once.

John Price who was usually so gentle, tapping your thigh so you could move yourself in whatever position he wanted you in, grabbing pillows so it would be easier on you, always checking if you were alright every take you reached you high.

That was not the John you were dealing with right now. He was manhandling however he wanted, both hands on your ass cheeks, legs over his arms, slamming you up and down on his cock and letting you cum over and over. Till he had enough of you in that position and fucked you right on the floor, your back getting carpet burn in front of the bedroom door that you didn’t get the chance to close.

And fuck, you thought it was heavenly before, him raw was otherworldly. You felt every ridge, every vein, every twist of his throbbing manhood, every once of precum that made your walls even wetter than they already were.

“Gonna fill you up-“

“—John- mmm- you can’t-“

He grunted, swatting your hands that tried to push him away.

“Gonna fill ya up like a good husband should,” the man’s nodding at his own words, already pussy drunk. But he was speaking words that he’s held back for months. “gotta getcha ready for when we have a baby.”

You hiccuped, John was talking crazy. A baby? A marriage? With John? And he’s whispering it all in your ear. This was tooooo much— too full—

“John i-it’s too deep! I- shit- gimmie a second—“

He pouted, fucking pouted, as if he didn’t know he was pushing his fat, veiny, cock to the fucking hilt of you. Your ankles somehow at the back of your head, “Can’t ya see it baby? You, waddlin around with our baby inside you-“ John hissed, you just kept clenching around him perfectly everytime he thrusted into his “-In a new house- haaah— after we broken it in ‘f course. Gotta break it in for good- fuckin- measure. Little ones running around, an office for daddy ‘nd a office for mummy— It’ll be perfect.”

You didn’t even realize you were cumming, your ears were just ringing, cunt contracting around Johns dick like you were aching for it.

You’d never in your life had a man cum inside you, but my God. John, this old barbarian, was gonna get you addicted to each and every single shot of cum that came from his leaking tip that reached inside your deepest place.

“Fuck, gotta give you another baby.”

John was determined to fuck you into delerium, you’d pass out after cumming so much and wake up to John sucking his cum out of you. Water breaks? The older man is sipping it and putting it in your mouth. Felt stuffy in the bedroom? No problem, John’s moving you to the bathroom to fuck you there with your leg propped up on the bath tub, the wall in the hallway looked like it was missing your face being pressed into it as John drilled you from behind.

Hungry? John’s feeding you whatever he cooked up the thirty minutes he’d left your bruised pussy alone, and then having you cock warm him in the fucking kitchen. All while kissing all over you, how you were such a pretty wife on his dick.

“We gonna get married John?” You slurred out, sticking your thumb in his mouth then sticking it in yours and moaning at the taste. Sweet.

You were fucked out, if the man said he was gonna max out your cards right now he could’ve. But you were, in fact, his finance. Right then and there, no one could convince you otherwise.

“S-Say that again sweetheart?”

You gripped the back of his neck your your hand, getting him to look at you head on, pecking his lips once. Twice. Three times, “You said you’d make me your wife, you’d really do that John? Make me a wife? Won’t get tired of me?”

“Oh birdie, h-how could I ever get tired of you? I-I’m in love you you.”

“Really? I love- I love yooouu John.” Your hips practically rolled on their own, the captain throwing his head back against the headboard for dear life.

“Fuck mee lovie— whatever you want, whateverrr you fucking want.” His hands found your hips, guiding you just the way you needed to get off. Slow, mean— loving.

“G-god, so amazin, amazin John! Wan’ a chapel wedding -ngghh- You, me, some rings and that fuckin preist,”

“ ‘F course baby, course.” John was stammering out words, he could barley keep up now. Fuck, rings. Those fucking rings— “wait baby, gimmie a second.”

“But John,” you keened, hating the idea of being apart for even a millisecond. Oh you’d be the death of that old man. And he wouldn’t’ve minded dying in your sopping cunt knowing you wanted to marry him.

He’d marry you from hell if he had to.

He reached out to the nightstand, an arm hooked around your waist to keep you close as you sloppily rode him, fumbling to grab the black box he placed there yesterday.

Some how he managed to get that box open, two golden rings sat inside. He grabbed yours, tossing the box to the side and slipping the ring on the proper finger.

“Oh! It’s sooo pretty John!” You moaned, eyes stuck to the ring, heart eyes practically forming in your pupils as you looked at the man who was balls deep inside you.

“Come on wife, you know how to cum for your future husband don’t you?”

“You keep looking at it.”

“ ‘S just so nice John.”

It was a single gold ring that fit your finger perfectly, the matching one that you asked to put on John once woke you up. You two were completely knocked out after two days of going at it like animals. You couldn’t feel your legs and your voice was an inch off from being shot. But you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. You loved being engaged, you loved John, and you loved the thought of a future with him.

“You wanna have a small wedding, don’t you?” John entangled your fingers together, his other hand caressing your thighs. The sunshine was shining through the window of the dim room.

“I’d prefer if it was just you ‘nd me. We can do somethin with your family later. I-I think it’ll be real intimate ‘f it’s just us. Like the movies-“

The older man’s eyes crinkled, “Oh, so you’ve thought about it?”

You scuffed, “I’d be silly not to think about marryin you at least once, John.”

Price opened his mouth, feeling more than shy at his grown age. He stuttered, “No take backs, alright? You gotta marry me now.”

You hooked your ring finger with his John’s matching one, giving it a quick kiss.

“No take backs.”

a/n: it’ll be a miracle if anyone even reads all this. if you did, leave me a message or comment if you liked it or if you hated it pls I wanna hear your thoughts.

[spookyfoxdreamer]

[irefy]

My favorite parts of the Odyssey (and things I took note of while reading):

Telemachus not understanding Penelope’s grief over Odysseus

Telemachus being So Done with the Suitors

Athena calling Odysseus her “old friend” twice while in disguise.

Athena disguising herself exclusively as Odysseus’ friends when appearing to Telemachus.

Athena’s utter disdain for Calypso. (It’s really funny, actually. She does just seem to hate her.)

Nestor (WHY IS THIS BITCH STILL ALIVE HE WAS OLD DURING THE TROJAN WAR AND ITS BEEN TEN FUCKING YEARS.)

Nestor being asked for news of Odysseus and admitting he doesn’t know anything, then immediately going on a rant about his own journey home.

Nestor having EVEN MORE SONS. WTF. WHERE ARE THEY COMING FROM.

Nestor saying he’s never seen a god more openly fond of anyone than Athena is of Odysseus.

SERIOUSLY HOW OLD IS NESTOR???? ITS SAID HES RULED FOR THREE GENERATIONS.

Menelaus going to Egypt and getting even more rich right after Troy, while Agamemnon was murdered in his own house.

Everyone bursting into tears over dinner when talking about Odysseus

Menelaus disguising himself as a seal.

The seal skins that they used for said disguise smelled so bad the goddess who was helping him put ambrosia under his nose

The old man of the sea saying he shouldn’t tell Menelaus who got home alright and then proceeding to tell him every little detail.

The first time we see Odysseus, he’s on Calypso’s island crying “as usual.”

The return of “What are you talking about?” Still laughing my ass off about this btw.

Nausica seeing a dirty, scruffy, naked man (he was wearing a branch but that doesn’t count) come out of a bush and getting annoyed at her maidens for being afraid.

Athena making Odysseus look young and hot to the maidens and Nausica. I don’t know why. She really didn’t have to.

Athena making Odysseus invisible but not telling him, so when he goes up to the phaeacian queen and Athena makes him visible again everyone is confused about where this random, scruffy, homeless looking man came from.

Seriously. They were eating dinner and then suddenly a guy was just there.

King Alcinous wonders if Odysseus is a god, and Odysseus is very confused about why he would think this.

One guess why he would think this.

Alcinous, after knowing Odysseus for like. A few hours. Asks him to stay and marry his daughter. He doesn’t even know his name.

Hermes telling Odysseus that he has to be careful or Circe will “unman” him

The men transforming back from pigs and being younger and hotter than before. Again. Why.

Them getting really emotional and crying with thanks for Odysseus saving them (seriously everyone is crying all the time. They all cried earlier too)

The sight is so pathetic that Circe, the notorious man hating goddess, takes pity and invites the whole crew to her palace.

Eurylochus spreading doubt and immediately folding at the expression on Odysseus’ face

Circe getting annoyed with all the crying and basically telling Odysseus to tell them to shut up.

Elpenor. Need I say more?

Oh my god they’re all crying again.

Ajax being a sore loser

Elpenor got a funeral!!! Yay!!!

EX-FUCKING-CUSE ME???!!!!??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE CATTLE MADE NOISE WHILE THEY WERE BEING COOKED????? IMAGINE YOUR STEAK JUST MOOS AT YOU. THATS NIGHTMARE FUEL.

Odysseus falling asleep immediately after getting onto the Phaeacian ship. What a mood.

Odysseus condemning liars while actively lying to Eumaeus.

Odysseus condemning liars while actively lying to Eumaeus and immediately after making up a story in which he meets himself.

Odysseus pounding on his chest and yelling at his heart to stop beating so fast.

His heart listens.

Theoclymenus immediately getting Murder Vibes from Telemachus and Odysseus and deciding to nope out

Telemachus defending Penelope from the suitors by saying her praises. I thought it was actually really sweet, because a majority of the time he was kind of rude to her. Shows he really did care and didn’t want to force her into anything against her will, despite the way he sometimes talked to her.

Odysseus stringing his bow and shooting through the axes (iconic)

Odysseus IMMEDIATELY AFTER stripping. He shoots Antinous naked. Everything out there. Telemachus must have wished he didn’t have eyes.

Penelope and Telemachus’ arcs (swapping viewpoints on Odysseus’ possible return.)

Athena holding off dawn so that Odysseus and Penelope could have lots of sex.

Odysseus and Penelope’s entire reunion

ODYSSEUS TREATING THEIR STRUGGLES AS EQUAL. YES.

ODYSSEUS TREATING PENELOPE AS HIS EQUAL WHEN EVERYONE ELSE UNDERESTIMATES HER.

Odysseus visiting his father and instead of telling him who he is immediately he decides to play a silly little game.

And by that I mean he makes up a random story on the spot when he doesn’t recognize him.

Laertes, used to the antics, doesn’t question this.

When Athena stops the fighting between the suitors families and Odysseus, and the suitor’s families begin to retreat, Odysseus chases them.

Zeus sends a lightning bolt to tell him to stop.

[floatyflowers]

Dark Platonic Mother! Cleopatra x Reincarnated Reader

Getting Reincarnated as the daughter of Cleopatra was the last thing you expected to happen to you.

The woman had you with a lover and decided to pass you off as the daughter of her first husband, Ptolemy XIII.

Let us get one thing straight, you were proud to be Cleopatra's daughter, as you saw her intelligence and chrismatic nature.

Being her first child, her overprotective attitude showed as you grew up.

She seduced Julius Caesar and Mark Antony to secure your safety.

There's no denying that you are her favourite child.

You tried to convince your mother to take different paths to avoid her demise.

But in the end, the paths still led to her demise.

However, the last female Pharaoh of Egypt decided to take you with her, refusing to leave you in the mercy of Augustus Caesar like the rest of her children.

Cleopatra’s gaze burned with a frenzied intensity as she clutched the your trembling hands, her voice trembling with emotion.

"My dearest daughter," she whispered, her tone a mix of desperation and conviction.

"Rome’s chains will not touch us. If Augustus dares to take us, we will not give him the satisfaction of parading us as spoils of war. You and I are above such humiliation, we are divine!"

Her grip tightened, her nails pressing into your skin, and she gestured toward a small, ornate chest on the table.

Within it lay the deadly asp, coiled and waiting.

Cleopatra’s eyes shone with determination as she drew the you closer, her words laced with a terrifying calmness.

"Together, we shall ascend to the gods. You belong with me, forever."

You stumbled backward, your heart pounding in terror as Cleopatra’s words sank in.

"No! I don’t want to die! Please, Mother, we can escape! There has to be another way!" You pleaded, tears streaming down your face.

The idea of experiencing death once again, a foreign, unimaginable concept for someone pulled from a different world sent you into panic.

Cleopatra, however, dismissed your protests with a soft, almost pitying smile, as though the your fear was a child’s naivety.

"Hush now," she murmured, stroking your cheek with a tenderness that only deepened the dread in her heart.

"You don’t understand yet, but you will. This is the only freedom left to us. The gods will welcome us as one."

Desperation clawed at you as Cleopatra reached for the asp, her movements slow.

You fell to your knees, clutching Cleopatra’s skirts, your voice breaking as you begged,

"Please, don’t do this! I’m not ready, I don’t want to leave, I need to be here for my siblings"

For the first time, Cleopatra hesitated, her hand trembling as she looked down at the your tear-streaked face.

For a fleeting moment, something human flickered in Cleopatra’s gaze, doubt, perhaps, or sorrow.

But it was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by the unyielding determination of a queen who believed she was saving her beloved daughter from a fate worse than death.

"You don’t need to be afraid," Cleopatra whispered, pulling the reader into a suffocating embrace.

"We are leaving this world together. You’ll thank me when we are free."

However, when the asp bites you then Cleopatra...you miraculously and barely manage to survive.

𓅁 𓅂

When you woke, the oppressive weight of Cleopatra’s arms was gone, replaced by the cool silk of Roman linens.

The air felt heavy, and the low murmur of distant voices sent a shiver down your spine.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, your body weak but alive, and saw a figure seated beside your bed, his presence radiating authority. Augustus.

His smile was unnervingly calm, his piercing eyes watching her as if you were a prey ensnared in his trap.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Augustus said softly, his voice like honey laced with venom.

He leaned closer, his hands clasped as though he were greeting an honored guest, not a survivor of a tragedy he orchestrated.

"You’re even more exquisite than I imagined. Cleopatra spoke of you so often, a divine child, she called you, her most precious treasure."

His gaze darkened slightly, a possessive edge creeping into his tone.

"And now, you’re mine." Your heart raced as you struggled to sit up, your body shaking under the weight of exhaustion.

Augustus reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a mockery of Cleopatra’s tender touch.

"You don’t need to fear me, I will protect you, as she couldn’t. No harm will come to you… so long as you remember who owns you now.”

[gaza-giving-tree]

Imagine the pain and fear of giving birth in a tent without medication or proper medical supplies. Imagine your infant son taking his first breaths under skies haunted by drones and warplanes, each rumble overhead a cruel lullaby that keeps you awake, heart pounding in the dark. When the ordeal is over, your beautiful newborn swaddled in the only blanket you can find, you struggle through rubble-strewn streets to reach a crowded, poorly equipped hospital, praying it hasn't already been bombed.

Images: (Top) The displacement camp and tent in which Samah and her family lives. (Bottom) Samah's children celebrate Ramadan in the displacement camp.

@samah-2

Story written by @rumiandroses

Samah is a mother of three—two young daughters, aged nine and two, and a baby boy just six months old, whose world so far has been nothing but tents, ruins, and the ceaseless thunder of shelling. Her husband now carries the weight of not only his own family but also his three siblings—one has a child of their own, and another who dreamed of studying medicine abroad. Those dreams, like their home, have crumbled into the dust of Jabalia camp, destroyed by war.

The devastation is absolute. Their home in northern Gaza, a sanctuary built with years of hard work and sacrifice, was leveled in an instant, leaving behind only debris and memories. Every attempt to find safety leads them to new dangers: from Khan Younis, to Rafah, back to Khan Younis—a relentless cycle of displacement where each new camp is promised to be safer than the last but never is. Airstrikes and snipers are not the only threats; the tents themselves are prisons of misery, offering no protection from the elements or the nightmares that lurk beyond the canvas walls.

Essentials are scarce. Food, when it can be found, is a bitter triumph, and clean drinking water is a rare luxury. Bathing has become a memory, and baby formula is almost impossible to obtain. Each time Samah leaves in search of supplies, she knows it might be the last time her children see her. But what choice does she have? Hunger and thirst do not wait, and neither do the relentless drones that circle above, hungry for new targets.

In winter, they endured the biting cold inside the tent, their breath misting in the dark. As the summer approaches, the summer heat will become a merciless oppressor.

Sweat and grime cling to their skin. The children cry, their voices hoarse from thirst. Rashes spread from the unsanitary conditions. Mosquitoes carry diseases through the stagnant air, and the risk of polio is a shadow that haunts every drop of water. Medical care is a distant dream.

Samah was forced to give birth to her son in a field hospital without medicine or supplies, and even then, reaching the overcrowded, poorly equipped hospital afterward was a battle of its own.

In spite of all the pain and loss, her faith has not been shattered. Despite everything, Samah clings to her belief in God’s mercy and the hope that someone, somewhere, will hear their cries.

But hope alone cannot open borders. To escape this nightmare, Samah’s family needs $86,500—to cover evacuation permits, living expenses in Egypt, medical care, and education for the children. Time is running out, and every moment they remain is another chance for danger to find them.

Samah’s plea is simple: to save her children from a future in a war zone where every breath is borrowed and every sunrise could be their last. She needs the world to see, to care, and to help.

Their survival depends on the kindness of those who refuse to look away.

You can donate to Samah’s GoFundMe campaign [HERE].

This campaign has been vetted by @bilal-salah0.

[prosolitude-alyaasabbagh]

NOWHERE IN GAZA IS SAFE FOR CHILDREN !!

Firas family, his mother, his kids, Magid and Rokaya , desperately need our help to rescue them from Gaza. DONATE NOW! verified by @el-shab-hussein Here and on list here

Firas Salem is a father of two Wonderful kids (2 Year Old and 1 Year old )

Currently he is the Provider for his Parents and younger siblings

His Family All together in Gaza = 11 Members).

They need to get out as soon as possible (hopefully together) .

Your Donations will help them get out of Gaza to Egypt ( 5000$ per person).

A part of it will help them afford life and medical expenses in Gaza and in Egypt for one month until they can work and get on their feet again.

Their current living condition is hellish but they're considered lucky to live in cramped tent !

They're trapped in war with 11 members, including a sick one-year-old Magid battling severe illness.

His condition worsened with relentless vomiting and diarrhea, causing him to lose nearly 9 pounds !

Additionally, his mother and teenage brother suffer from Hepatitis A, struggling to find clean food, water, and medicine and a SAFE PLACE. Your donation can provide them with safety and vital medical care in Gaza and in Egypt. Help us reach €33,000 ! Less than €3,000 away!!

For MORE UPDATES , VERIFICATIONS , AND LINKS : HERE

SHARE GUYS PLEASE AND DONATE ! Thank you so much!!

[versupital]

Stuffed Full 'a Rubber!

you've been a naughty little thing - and if you thought you deserved his cock, well, your stupid is showing.

content. degradation, dumbification, masochism, dacryphilia, overstim, impact play, toys, gn!reader (sukuna, gojo)

word count. 2.3k

incl pairings. sukuna, gojo, nanami, geto.

‧₊˚ʚ :: ꒷꒦ 🌸 ˖˚˳⊹

A RIVER IN EGYPT. | r. sukuna

Sitting above you, high and mighty, is your new husband. He’s in one of the black hotel chairs, his suit jacket discarded, tie loose, buttons popped. A clear rocks glass of brandy swirls lazily in his fingers, and his eyelids hang low as he stares at your tear-streaked face.

“Can I please—”

“No.”

Your little cunt slides up and down on a lilac-colored rubber cock. You’re dripping so sloppily that your previous rounds of cum are all over the hotel room floor as you plead for mercy. 

But Ryomen does not know remorse.

Your legs begin to slow. Your hands are bound tightly behind your back by your own underwear, so all you can do is lean your chest against Ryomen’s pant leg and whine hopelessly onto his knee.

He sits up, taking another swig of his drink, before he cracks a harsh palm across the side of your already sore cheek.

“My stupid wife, keep it up,” he says, palm cupping your jaw as he spits in your face, “I'll bet you waited the whole reception for my cock, and now look at you. Stuffed with a fake one.”

You whine, but your cunt throbs in response to the spit and contact of his hand. You’ve been at this for thirty minutes at least, riding your toy for your husband’s viewing pleasure while his cocks bulge against his suit pants.

He’s so incredibly drunk and you’re a different kind of intoxicated. You want to be in a mating press with both holes filled, but he’s torturing you instead, forcing you to please yourself with a skinny piece of rubber instead of his double dicks.

The dildo slides up into you angrily, bending and curving deliciously into your g-spot while Ryomen degrades you for how fucked out your face looks.

“You understand how pathetic you look?” he grunts. “You’ll never look this way for anyone else, Mx. Sukuna.”

“Mmh,” you cut yourself off before making a bold move. 

You slide off of the toy and use your chin on Ryomen’s knee to pull yourself into a standing position. His back flies off of the chair, but you’re already grabbing the little purple toy with your bound hands and whirling on him.

He falls into your trap and grabs your waist harshly, “Brat, what the hell do you think—“

You use his grip on you to slide back against him until you have the dildo placed on his clothed lap. Now, all you have to do is stick the landing.

You hear Ryomen gasp; you suspect he hadn’t intended to, but when you’ve perched yourself on his thighs with the dildo back inside of you, he can’t hide his noises of surprise.

“Shit,” he zips through his teeth. His brandy crashes to the floor, brown liquid running across the carpet and pooling around the feet of the chair. Neither of you care.

His hands have no choice but to fall on your hips, sharp nails digging into the crease of your thighs. You expertly begin to pounce like a cagey little bunny, toes digging into the wet carpet for stability between Ryomen’s large dress shoes.

“Hmm, keep it up, cunt,” he groans maliciously, making sure his nails draw blood from your soft skin. "Two more orgasms. Then I'll consider fucking you, pathetically."

It takes everything in you not to jerk away. You fight the pain by hissing through your teeth and focusing on the rubber cock that fills you. Even as overstimulated as you are, feeling Ryomen’s heartbeat pound into your back and his breath glide along your spine turns you on all over again.

“H-Hate you s’much,” you whine, knowing it couldn’t be farther from the truth. You aren’t sure why you spit out that corny lie each time you fuck your husband, but you’re reminded when his next words come from his mouth.

“You hate me, huh, stupid bitch?” His laugh is demeaning and chilling. “Now you owe me three.”

“But–” “Nah, brat,” his fingers come up and tangle themselves in your hair, “eventually, you’ll learn to stop talking back to your husband. I own you. You are below me. And you will remember,” he yanks your head back, arching your spine painfully against him as you keep gliding the dildo against your slick walls, “your place.”

HOLD IT RIGHT THERE! | s. gojo

Your one leg that remains on the ground is about to give out. Your knee bends each time your boyfriend’s cockhead rams itself into your cervix, sending painful signals up through your belly and down the nerves in your body.

You only have one free hand, and it’s splayed flat across the mirror in front of you that’s now covered in fingerprints and smears from drool. Your head goes back and forth from resting on the reflective glass to being yanked back against your boyfriend’s chest.

He holds one of your legs in the air. Red marks litter your thighs from the events previous to the two of you landing where you are now. Bite marks, claw marks, slaps.

And with his free hand, he holds your tiny red rose against your clit. Air vibrates over the bud and makes your toes curl while you’re simultaneously getting stuffed up like a holiday turkey. 

“Oh, it’s so drenched, pretty thing,” Satoru grunts deeply into your ear. His breath rides down the pulse in your neck and stops on your chest, making you shiver. “Covering me like a good slut, yeah? Sucking me up with your tight little hole.”

“I-I can’t,” you whimper, unsure what it is exactly you can’t do. Your brain is so jumbled, you don’t understand the words flowing out of your own mouth. 

“Can’t what?” Satoru purrs. “Can’t say you can’t handle it, cause you’re taking me so well. I’m so deep, feel me?” 

You do; buried deep in your guts is his fat, pink cock that threatens to shred you apart. 

The rose alone has taken you through two orgasms, and it seems Satoru and his cock pumping into you from the other side are determined to guide you through two more. He holds the toy to your clit with intention, dipping his head over your shoulder to get a better look at your arched body in the mirror.

Sweat sticks his hair to his forehead and his blue eyes are nearly illuminated with lust, all for you, staring at the way you drool and contort your face with every stroke, knowing it’s bringing you closer and closer to the finish line. 

“Being so good, aren’t you?” he whispers needily, “Unlike earlier. Though you could walk around naked and I would just ignore you?" He cuts himself off to whimper. "You’re gonna pull the cum right out of my cock so I can fill you up. Isn’t that right?”

“Ngh- yes, Satoru,” his name comes out breathy and soft, and you watch the effect it takes on him in your reflection.

His knees nearly begin to buckle as he applies more pressure to the toy, which is all covered in your slick and his precum. His thick balls are abusing your taint as he picks up his pace to drive his own orgasm out - but it’s not his first, either. 

Yet feeling his hot, salty semen shoot into your cervix makes your own orgasm come, filthy and hard, legs shaking you nearly to the point of collapse as he forces you to ride it out on him, his strokes still long and steady.

“Satoru, no,” you whine, but you know you don’t want him to stop, that much is evident in the way you keep throwing your hips back to fit his rhythm. 

“Yes, baby,” he replies softly, “hold it right there - just like that.”

NO, YOU HANG UP! | k. nanami

“Miss you s’much, pretty.”

The words are lost under your moans as you shake. Your knees are angled in the air, your laptop open to the video call that displays your husband’s face from thousands of miles away.

His damned business trips were always terrible, but him insisting on torturing you with a vibrator that he could control in another country was even worse. 

“Ken…” you begin softly, knowing when you whimper out his name, he turns unnervingly obedient.

Not this time, though.

“You almost had me, darling,” he mutters into the mic. "Sending me such a naughty photo when you know I can't do anything to you. Tsk, tsk."

You watch as his thumb circles his screen, taking the vibrations from the lowest to the most extreme in mere seconds. He repeats this, even despite your legs shaking, or your cries for him. 

“The moment I get back, you wanna give me a reason to start decorating the spare bedroom? Hmm?” He coos your name softly, “Wouldn’t a crib look lovely in there, honey?”

In your cockdrunk stupor, all you can do is agree. He could fill your womb twenty times if he wanted with the way the toy is massaging your walls, draining you of all common sense. 

“I-It… yes, Ken.” Your head spins.

He lifts the phone higher to show you exactly what he’s doing, dragging the scale up and down, strategically stopping before he gets to the point that he knows would make you cum. 

“Really?” he questions slowly, leaning further into the screen as if that would give him a better view of his pussy - splayed out before him. “How would we decorate it?”

“We- uh…” your voice trails off. Of course you can’t answer at a time like this. Your brain feels smooth and mushy. And for fuck’s sake, you miss your husband.

“I’m listening,” he yawns, but you can hear his belt buckle moving, and see his shoulder shifting as he reaches into his pants to take himself out. His arm muscles start to flex as he strokes to your pathetic, whiny moans. 

“B-Bees and,” you stutter and struggle to find words, “flowers and…”

“Mm, a little honey for my honey?” Nanami questions, punctuating it with a grunt. He’s clearly working hard to pump his fist over his needy cock. 

“A-As many little honeys as you want,” you whimper, feeling the vibrations go back up, just so Nanami can hear you let out a cry. Just so he can use your pathetic noises as fuel to fuck his hand. 

“As many as I want?” Nanami echoes, voice still soft and guiding, even as he tortures you with the vibrator controls, even as he takes himself towards his own edge. “J-Just like, you’ll cum as many times as I want, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Mmh- d-dunno if I can, sir,” you say, knowing the nickname is enough to drive him mad.

“I think you can take it,” he says, finger rotating back to the very highest vibration setting that his phone will allow, making you scream and leak spurts of clear liquid all over your couch. 

Nanami watches in silence, aside from his wanton moans, eyebrows furrowed over the brim of his blue-light glasses. 

“So fucking beautiful. I need you,” he complains, voice deep and begging.

“Hurry up and come home so w-we can start painting the walls,” you mumble, eyes rolling to the back of your head, “y-y’know, of the nursery.”

“Right. The nursery.”

AYE AYE CAPTAIN. | s. geto

“I can’t hear you,” Suguru purrs from above. “You said, what? Stop? Speak up.”

Your thighs are forcefully parted by a heavy, black bar that cuffs to your ankles. Your boyfriend has an iron grip on it while he flushes a thick, curved toy in and out of you as you stare up at him hopelessly. 

You’re gagged. Tears are covering your sore cheeks. You keep trying to connect your thighs, but it’s no use with the bar. Meanwhile, he keeps pushing the toy inside of you. In and out, with the same smooth rhythm he usually pumps his hips.

Well, it would have been his cock, had you not decided to tease him all evening at the meeting. Taking a little longer to kiss him, dragging your tongue over his bottom lip, dropping your hand so that your knuckles accidentally grazed his dick through his robes.

“G-Geto, please, I can’t take another,” you breathe around your cloth gag, approaching your third orgasm already. He always recognizes it in your breath pattern, the way your moans pitch themselves up, so he knows exactly how to respond.

“Sorry, I wish I cared,” he fakes a yawn before quickening his wrist to fuck the cum out of you that much sooner.

Your back is off of the mattress, arching to the ceiling as you fight the spasming that has overcome you all over again. You break into a sweat and more tears brim your eyes, but there’s nowhere you’d rather be, than under him as he takes advantage of your cunt.

“This is what you wanted,” Suguru reminds, “this is what you spent all evening punishing me for, isn’t it?” He smiles, and laughs inaudibly, “You look fucking awful.”

You bite down on the wet cloth and let out a cry, some noise between fighting back and displaying how good it feels to be made fun of while there’s tears coming out of your eyes. 

“You look so helpless and stupid,” he coos, “and desperate and used.” He takes his hand off of the toy momentarily to crack his palm on your sore clit. “As if you deserve to not have your orgasm ruined. Hm. The nerve.”

And he cracks his palm down again, and again, and again - before he starts stroking the toy again, which at this point is being swallowed up by your abused hole.

You plead with him through the cloth, but the lack of remorse in his eyes is doing unnerving things to you. 

“Cum again and show me that you deserve to feel me,” he spits, and you obey immediately, flooding the bed and his wrist while he watches in disgust. “Nasty little monkey. All wet for me now.”

He pulls the toy out and examines your pulsing hole with his bottom lip between his teeth. You make eye contact for all of two seconds before he smacks your cunt again. 

“Stupid you for believing me.”

‧₊˚ʚ :: ꒷꒦ 🌸 ˖˚˳⊹

hello guys, long time no see <3

sorry for flaking in October i was in the trenches, mentally and also with my lack of creative juices but

we are so back. I have a few things planned for this next holiday season and i hope I don’t disappoint <3

love always!

~ pennjammin

[witekspicsbanknotes]

100 pounds notes designed for Egypt.

[jack-a-nape]

Week 1 of Trump Presidency 2.0

Elon Musk did a Nazi Salute twice at inauguration although some (mostly Telsa bros from Elon's fan club) claim it was actually a Roman Salute so it's not fascist or racist. Germany and Austria disagree and said personally they would have arrested Musk for doing that. here [edit: Musk has since appeared at a alt-right German campaign saying Germany is too focused on the past and should move past the guilt of Nazi past. He also says he'll save Germany soo] here

Trump signed an executive order stating all of America is female here

Trump pardoned Ross Ulbricht, founder of dark website Silk Road, who was convicted and sentenced to two life sentences, plus 40 years with no parole in May 2015. Ulbricht's charges included money laundering, drug trafficking, conspiring to commit computer hacking, and engaging in the continuation of a criminal enterprise (Prosecutors also say Ulbricht ordered 6 hits including one against a former Silk Road employee although there is no evidence that any hit was successfully carried out). here

Trump issued an executive order undoing many of Biden's orders. Of the 78 orders' signed by Biden that Trump is revoking, the majority are related to climate change, COVID-19, workplace and racial equality, public health accessibility, education and other public programs here

Bank of America CEO states that crypto will now be embraced by banks (side note Trump and Melania have both created crypto currencies) here

Tiktok is back and Trump said he doesn't care about full ownership he just wants 50% here

Trump has placed an executive order withdrawing from the WHO. here

Trump is expected to issue an executive order focused on "reshaping the military" including banning transgender troops here

Trump promises an overhaul of FEMA, including potentially attaching conditions before aid can be granted, or even dismantling FEMA entirely here

Places of worship, schools, and hospitals are no longer safe havens for migrants from ICE. This has already resulted in the mass deportation of thousands of immigrants, including a plane to Colombia that Trump threatened tariffs if the country did not accept. here and here. Additionally deported were 88 individuals who arrived on the 24th. For the Brazilian deportees, teh Brazil Foreign Ministry is demanding an explanation from the Trump administration, citing the administration's "disrespect for human rights" when the deportees were found to have been withheld water, handcuffed together, and denied bathroom access, with some reportedly being beaten and requiring medical attention. here

Trump stated he plans to mass relocate the people of Gaza by sending everyone to Jordan or Egypt to "clean out" the area of Palestinians. Back in May Biden had placed a hold which prevented Israel from receiving several 2,000 pound bombs from the US, Trump released the hold on the 26th saying its been long enough for Israel to not have their bombs.  here

[linopls]

kinktober day thirty

overstimulation jeongin x fem!reader warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, sex toys, slight bondage, multiple orgasms, p in v, squirting 0.5k words

you’ve vowed to never tease jeongin again.

you had made one joke about a time jeongin didn’t make you finish in front of his friends. granted, you were both exhausted and probably shouldn’t have indulged in anything that night. you both didn’t even fully undress, jeongin had pulled your pj shorts to the side and slid his pants down just enough to free himself. he finished pretty quick and took a second to rest which ended up with him falling asleep inside you.

he just kept going, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of you.

“innie, its too much!” you whine and tug at his belt that’s tied you to the bed frame. 

“oh,” he snickers. “i thought i didn’t ever make you finish.”

his attention is turned back to your cunt, where he has a vibrator pressed against your clit. his laid on his stomach between your legs as he watches your leaking cunt with awe. 

“no you do, every time! you’re so good in bed, innie! i’m sorry for saying anything.” tears stream down your face and your legs shake like never before.

“no, no, no. i owe you for every time we’ve had sex and you didn’t finish.” 

you feel yourself reaching the edge, could be anywhere from the seventh to hundredth time, you’ve completely lost count. a loud moan erupts from your throat and your thighs tighten around his arm as your release spills onto the sheets below you.

“innie, please, need a break,” you cry, trying to pry him off you with your feet. 

“okay, okay,” he laughs as he turns the vibrator off and sets it on the bed next to you. 

you sigh with relief and try to reground yourself. jeongin props himself up on his knees and reaches to the belt that’s restraining your hands. as he places the belt next to the toy, he soothingly rubs your reddening wrists. 

before you can fully appreciate his comfort, jeongin grabs your hips with his large hands and pulls you down until you're flat on your back. before you can even realize what’s happening, his aching cock is pressing at your entrance and sliding in with one swift motion.

“innie!” you wail, your hands scratching at his forearms.

“what? we’re taking a break from that and doing this!”

with no warning, he begins to drill into you at an insane pace. your head falls back and your back arches off the bed, hands still clawing at his arms. you catch a quick glance at his face and see a smirk painted across his lips. 

you feel another orgasm quickly brewing and before you can even warn him it washes over you. this one more intense than any of the others, if that was even possible. you vision goes white for a second and all your muscles cramp. the squelching sound of jeongin continually pounding into you fills the room alongside a laugh from him. 

“i though i didn’t ever make you finish. and now you’re squirting all over my cock, hmm?” he cackles.

you look down to see remnants of your release shown on jeongin’s jeans, which he has just pulled down enough to free his cock. your face flushes red with embarrassment as your arms come up to cover your face. 

he scoffs and interlocks his hands with yours, pinning them above your head.

“come on baby, give me a couple more.” 

jeongin blurb hehe

@rockstrhanji @hyunjinhoexxx @mixtape-racha @euphoric-univers @haruharu-egypt @shit-why-what @twiggoblin @kookiesbunny @virgohannie @nataliee10 @ihrtlix @aaasia111 @lolli4me @lilcutieana @changbinsrightboob @hanjisunglover @chansducky10 @elissasimp @boi-bi-ahaha @lilquokka04 @anglerfishiey @sirenscall1031 @might-be-a-rat @jihyun2monster @kpflyn @samsmitty @imwithurmother @meilix @summer3sworld @mysweethannie @kittykattime @linoots @yaorzu-blog @sofiaeli 

@alemi-i @cupidsmoons @yoongles2025 @vixensss @chlooooop @lemontried @idkluvutellme @superiorbrownskinn @ana-stasssiaaa @amayaaseees @ilikecatsanddoritos @alnex05 @esairevmp @greysweaters-blog @sanzusfavgf @jutannies @faraonatojishady @hanniemylovelyquokka @chloeskzboomboom @quinnluvsmoney @burningupp-replies @aisha-md @jo-dinner @jeannie-beannie @httpsimmy @hazneezs @cuffier 

@dvbkie099 @il0v3skz @chrishak@quokkaaah @bex90997 @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @leeknowyah @tumadreposts @hyunniebunni @cipher-ipher @alice630 @jinnies-princess @bangtancultsposts @evrythinghqppened @rebellescauses-blog @juicypebbless @fawnpeaks @the-life-of-stella @lakoya @compersian @seung-mine @mal-lunar-28

[fel-09]

Emperor Geta x reader

Words: 1.1K

Part 1 Part 3

Second life 2

She stood by the desk, sorting through a pile of documents. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as her gaze landed on yet another stack of papers. The autumn festival was fast approaching, yet the tasks before her only seemed to multiply. To make matters worse, complaints from the Senate continued to pour in, accusing her of indifference. The day felt like an endless nightmare.

The sun’s relentless rays streamed through the windows, flooding the room with golden light. Thick columns adorned with intricate inlays reflected the brilliance, filling the space with a blinding radiance. The oppressive shimmer pressed down on her, the heat muddling her thoughts.

“When will there be an heir?” The question echoed again and again, especially from the Senate advisors. Suppressing her irritation, she flipped through the documents, her expression indifferent. Dynastic matters were of no interest to her. All she desired was for the endless chaos of the day to end. An heir could come from anyone—even from his mistresses. What did it matter who ascended the throne? Yet this tiresome issue had become unavoidable, especially after she left Geta humiliated and empty-handed in the corridor, his fury palpable.

Ink dripped onto the parchment, leaving dark stains. The faint murmur of the city wafted through the open window, amplifying her tension. She ran her fingers through her hair, her nerves stretched taut. But the most unbearable thing was how even her allies in the Senate begrudgingly sided with Geta: "An heir is essential." The words reverberated endlessly in her mind.

Her consent had already been given. The meeting with the emperor was set for the day after tomorrow. Her heart pounded erratically, her thoughts a tangled mess. She clutched at the fabric of her gown, trying to suppress the rising tide of despair.

Admitting the truth to herself was the hardest part. The man who had caused her so much pain in the past was now persistently vying for her attention. She hated him for everything he had done, yet she couldn’t completely extinguish the remnants of love still smoldering in her heart.

“No!” she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut. Anger surged through her, and she slammed her hand down on the desk. Papers scattered as the desk overturned. Her fury boiled over at the realization that she would soon be forced to share a bed with him. Her head throbbed, and a sharp ringing filled her ears.

Late that evening, she sat at dinner with Geta and Caracalla. The food was delicious, but the atmosphere was strained and suffocating. Caracalla made a valiant effort to ease the tension, but it was in vain.

“Tomorrow, silks and jewels will arrive. I hear they were brought from Egypt,” Caracalla began, propping his cheek on his hand. “I’d like to personally select a few for you.”

The empress, masking her irritation, offered a sweet smile.

“Oh, I would love to see them. Egyptian goods are always so exquisite.”

Caracalla nodded enthusiastically, pleased by her response. Their conversation grew lively, with topics shifting quickly. Meanwhile, Geta sat in brooding silence, his gaze burning into her. The anger simmering within him was palpable, his jealousy ignited by the empress’s cheerful smile as she engaged with his brother.

At last, his temper snapped. He slammed his hand against the table, silencing the room.

“Leave us,” he said coldly, directing his words at Caracalla. Though reluctant, Caracalla understood and excused himself, leaving them alone.

The moment the door closed, Geta crossed the distance between them. His hands gripped her shoulders tightly, the pressure enough to bruise.

“Do you enjoy playing games with me?” he hissed. “I am your emperor. I am your husband. You owe me respect. Ignoring me won’t solve anything!”

His voice thundered through the room, echoing off the walls. He shook her, forcing her to steady herself against the table to avoid losing balance.

The day had already been fraught with stress, and now his overbearing presence added to her exhaustion.

Geta exhaled sharply, his anger unabated. His skin was flushed as his piercing gaze scrutinized her frightened expression. His grip softened, his fingers trailing down to her cheek. His voice lowered, but the menace remained.

“Don’t push me to do something you’ll regret even more. My patience is wearing thin,” he muttered, his hands trembling—not from fear, but from restrained fury. He leaned forward, pressing his face into her hair, his breath warm against her temple.

“Forgive me,” he whispered hoarsely. “I don’t want you to hate me any more than you already do. But you must understand—” his voice wavered, tinged with a hint of desperation, “I am not a man to be trifled with.”

His lips brushed against her temple in a fervent kiss, lingering as though he could absorb her defiance. The empress remained frozen, pale as marble, her breath shallow. His hands roamed over her sides, his touch possessive, tracing the same spots repeatedly. He buried his cheek against hers, the roughness of his stubble grazing her skin.

Her thoughts spiraled in chaos. This man was losing control, teetering on the brink of madness—and she was trapped in his grasp.

He released her in the same moment, locking his deep brown eyes onto hers—eyes of a shade so rich, like the heart of ancient wood, that one could lose themselves in that endless forest.

The emperor hesitated only briefly before closing the distance between them. He pressed another firm kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering on the spot as if to mark it. Then, with a deliberate nod, he stepped back, his gaze never wavering.

“Do you understand?” he asked, his tone steadier now, but still laced with a subtle threat that hung in the air like an unspoken warning.

The empress could only nod, her throat tight with the weight of her silence.

This was her second life, yet even here, she was powerless against him. Her strength faltered every time he stood before her like this—imposing, unyielding, and utterly in control.

Geta turned and left, the heavy doors closing behind him. As they swung shut, he paused for a brief moment, glancing back over his shoulder. But the hesitation was fleeting. He quickly looked ahead again, the doors sealing her solitude with a resounding finality.

_____

I apologize for the mistakes

I don't know if Part 3 will be final, but I know it will be 18+

[marylxvrr]

The Pharoah's Claim 🔞

[ play this song while reading lol ]

NSFW 🔞

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐇 — a sovereign ruler who commands the entire kingdom with divine authority, but when it comes to you, his obsession knows no limits, using manipulation, threats, and even cruelty to bind you to his side, ensuring you never escape his unrelenting control . . .

Trigger Warnings: Obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, non-consensual behavior, , power imbalance, NSFW content, adult themes.

In the heart of ancient Egypt, the grand palace of Pharaoh Rafael stood tall under the relentless sun. The golden walls reflected the heat, making the air shimmer with the promise of a lover's touch. You, a humble servant, moved through the palace, your bare feet silent on the cool stone. The tray of fresh fruits in your hands was forgotten as the deep, commanding voice of the ruler echoed through the corridor.

"Y/N."

Rafael, the pharaoh, was a man of power and authority. His gaze, as sharp as a falcon's, bore into you, making your heart race. "Your Majesty," you bowed low, your trembling hands barely visible beneath the tray.

"Rise," he commanded, his voice low and deliberate. You obeyed, your gaze still fixed on the floor, your breath hitching as he moved closer. The scent of myrrh and lotus oil enveloped you, intoxicating yet suffocating.

"I've noticed you, Y/N," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "You are unlike the others. So obedient, so quiet... and yet, you try to avoid me."

"I-I would never, Your Majesty," you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest.

Rafael's hand reached out, gently lifting your chin. His gaze was intense, his eyes dark with desire. "I want you," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I want to feel your body beneath mine, to hear your cries of pleasure as I make you mine."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body responding to his desire. You could feel your nipples harden beneath the thin fabric of your dress, your pussy aching for his touch.

Rafael's lips captured yours, his tongue exploring your mouth with an urgency that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, cupping your breasts, pinching your nipples through the fabric. You moaned into his mouth, your hands reaching out to grasp his thick, hard cock through his kilt.

He broke the kiss, his eyes burning with desire. "Strip for me," he commanded, his voice thick with lust. You obeyed, your hands trembling as you removed your dress, revealing your naked body to him. His eyes roamed over you, taking in your curves, your full breasts, your wet pussy.

Rafael dropped to his knees before you, his hands parting your legs. His tongue darted out, licking your clit, making you gasp. He continued to lick and suck, his tongue probing your pussy, making you writhe with pleasure.

You could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing with anticipation. Rafael's fingers found your g-spot, pushing you over the edge. You cried out, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you.

Rafael stood, his cock hard and ready. He guided you to the edge of a nearby table, bending you over it. You could feel his dick at your entrance, teasing you. With one quick thrust, he was inside you, filling you completely.

He fucked you hard and fast, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you back to meet each of his thrusts. You could feel your second orgasm building, your body trembling with anticipation. Rafael's hand reached around, finding your clit, rubbing it in circles.

You cried out, your body shuddering as you came again, your pussy clenching around his dick. Rafael groaned, his body tensing as he came inside you, filling you with his hot cum.

He pulled out, his cock still hard. "I want more," he said, his voice hoarse with desire. He turned you around, pushing you onto the table. His fingers found your ass, probing it, preparing you for what was to come.

You gasped as he entered you, his dick stretching you in a way that was both painful and pleasurable. He fucked you slowly at first, letting your body adjust to his size. But soon, he was pounding into you, his hips slapping against your ass.

You could feel another orgasm building, your body shaking with pleasure. Rafael reached around, finding your clit again, rubbing it in circles. You cried out, your body shuddering as you came, your ass clenching around his dick.

Rafael groaned, his body tensing as he came again, filling your ass with his hot cum. He pulled out, his dick still hard. "You are mine," he said, his voice firm and possessive.

You smiled, your body still trembling from the pleasure he had given you. "I am yours, Your Majesty," you said, your voice breathless.

And so, under the watchful gaze of the sun god, you became the pharaoh's lover, bound to him by desire and pleasure. Your days of blending into the background were over. From now on, you would be the one who would make the pharaoh's heart race, who would make him moan with pleasure. And you couldn't wait.

btw i asked some authors to help writing the nsfw so credit for them 🙏🙏🙏

for the dividers, credit to the owner :p