#he looks so gently rumpled... 🥺

[dreamlogic]

like to give this old man a nap. reblog to give this old man a nap.

[vanteguccir]

Matt x pregnant!reader who is craving katchup. Just how he would react to her wanting to eat it with everything and his way to deal with it, considering he hates it. (Not sure if this makes a full story, so if you want to just talk about it, it’s okay).

I LOVE YOUR IDEA!!! dad!Matt always gets me 😭🥺

And yes, since it would end in a super little short fic, I made a quick blurb! I hope you like it 🩷

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt Sturniolo x pregnant!reader

Y/N's senses came back with force on the Tuesday morning, a strange urge in her stomach bombarding her from every side of her body. She looked at the clock beside the bed with sleepy eyes and frowned when she saw that it was only six o'clock in the morning.

"Ketchup." She muttered to herself in a low tone. "I need ketchup."

Matt, her husband, was lying next to her, still sleeping peacefully, his right arm wrapped protectively around her 8-month belly. The woman hesitated for a moment, looking at him with a mixture of guilt and curiosity. Should she wake him up to satisfy her bizarre ketchup craving? She shook her head, deciding to let him rest.

Carefully sliding out of bed, Y/N put on her light pink robe - which was draped over Matt's gaming chair - and headed downstairs towards the kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee wafted through the air, having been made automatically by the coffee machine on the counter, but all she could think about was the taste of ketchup.

Y/N opened the fridge and found a bottle hidden behind some jars of jelly. With a satisfied smile, she leaned over and picked it up, clutching it as if it were the most precious item in the world, before opening one of the drawers on the counter next to the stove and taking out a spoon, opening the lid of the industrialized product and starting to devour it pure.

While she was there, deep in her strange morning desire, Matt appeared in the kitchen doorway, his hands rubbing his sleepy eyes and his clothes rumpled, showing that he had just gotten up. He looked at her with a confused expression, his blue eyes running over her figure leaning against the gray refrigerator.

"What the hell are you doing, sweetheart?" He asked, yawning loudly.

Y/N shrugged, embarrassed.

"I don't know. I just... need ketchup, I guess."

Matt raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but deciding not to say anything else, if there was anything he had learned during those 8 months, it was that you shouldn't question a pregnant woman. Instead, he simply approached her and wrapped his arms around her body, kissing the top of her head lovingly.

"I'll make breakfast." He said softly. "With... ketchup, if you want." His voice came out reluctantly, remnants of his feeling of disgust for the product dripping into his sentence.

Y/N smiled brightly, feeling grateful for her husband's silent support, nodding her head quickly. Together, they prepared a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast, her dishes all covered generously with ketchup.

Throughout the day, Y/N continued to have strange cravings for ketchup. She put it on her salad, her turkey sandwich, and even her pizza. Matt looked at his wife with a mixture of disgust and horror, but he didn't say a word of protest, swallowing hard as the nausea rose in his throat each time the smell of the sauce rose to his nostrils.

Late in the afternoon, as Y/N devoured a burger covered in ketchup, she finally felt satisfied. The woman looked at Matt with a tired smile, feeling grateful for his unwavering support.

"Thanks for letting me eat all that ketchup today." She joked shyly, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"It's not my favorite, but if it makes you happy, then I'm happy too." Matt shrugged, smiling back at her, glancing from the corner of his eye at the red bottle still on the table.

Y/N leaned her body slightly towards him, making a small pout, expecting a kiss, but all she received was Matt's palm pressing against her lips gently.

"Go brush your teeth first, honey. Everything has a limit."

[achaotichuman]

#6 for the fic asks plz! 🥺

WIP Tag Game

6- A Court of Deceit and Decay

My very first Neris fic!! I love this one so much, here is the snippet of it!!

A slow intake of breath from the voice beside her, before a finger light as a feather brushed the hair from her eyes, relieving her of the stinging pain. Nesta ungracefully hauled her hand up and desperately rubbed at the spot, till the itching ceased.  “Nesta…” The voice murmured, with a tone she didn’t recognise.  All the same, it made her feel safe. For what felt like the first time in months.. Years.  She blinked her eyes, chasing the haze away. The sight of flaming red hair caught her sight, a rumpled white shirt, jacket nowhere to be seen. Sweet amber eyes bore down into hers. Catching down, Nesta saw his mouth, opening slightly as if to say something.  “Eris.” She whispered, his name a mere breath on her lips, that she didn’t think he heard.  But he must have heard, for he turned his eyes away and leaned back. Nesta followed him with her eyes, watching as he sat back into a crushed velvet chair, the colour a deep amber, near brown with a tinge of red. She looked down to see his hand gently resting in her open palm. Her hand twitched, fingers curling around his. Eris’ eyes widened briefly, he quickly removed his fingers, Nesta didn’t have time to mourn the loss as the gravity of the situation slammed into her like forceful winds in an open field.  She shot right up, eyes briefly going black from the movement, ignoring it as her heart thumped so quickly. She desperately looked around, but she could not recognise the room.   All gold and red, it was a little rustic looking, but with wealth dripping out of every corner, from the gilded gold, to the dark polished furniture, and the large fireplace roaring, filling the room with a soft glow aside from the golden lamp that beheld a ball of Faelight.  She clenched her fists and whipped around to Eris who stared at her with a little fear in his eyes. Nesta was about to yell asking where she was, when she stopped. A sense of intense heat had overwhelmed her, not painful, not scorching, but clearly there. It felt like a hand of fire that didn’t burn reaching into her insides and brushing its finger across strings of magic weaved within her.  Nesta looked down, to see her hands covered in flames that burned silver. 

This is from chapter four, and this WIP can be read on my 'Dark Autum' blog @achaoticalien!

[howdoyousleep3]

Floating on CBD gummies, and this image hit me in the face like a Sock em' Bopper:

- Stevie Baby taking lap dancing lessons to surprise James for his birthday.

- Setting everything up while James is having drinks with coworkers; clearing the living room, mood lighting, playlist, and a little bit of eyeliner and shimmer on his cheeks

- James coming home pleasantly tipsy with his suit and tie loose and rumpled.

- Hearing the bass of the music thumping gently through the halls.

- Following the sound to the living room, walls glazed in lights of red, blue, and purple, finding a single dining room chair in the middle of the rug

- Tipsy or not, James is not stupid, and finds himself growing as eager as he was the first time he'd heard that style of pounding music rhythm.

- He sits down quickly, almost sliding out of the chair in his haste

- Moments later, Stevie slinks out with a foal's grace, svelte and slightly stumbling, hips rolling to the beat

- His cheeks and chest were deeply ruddy, and he couldn't even look in James' direction, but his movement were fluid, and he kept the beat

- James is grinning from ear to ear, legs spread wide, not even trying to hide his growing erection

- Unbeknownst to even himself, a flow of filthy honey starting pouring from his lips

- Praise and adoration lost beneath the music, until Stevie moves close enough, and hearing such explicit promises, stumbles and nearly falls

-Only to be scooped up and deposited on James' lap, hands heavy on his hips, and growling voice in his neck, begging him to continue

- Dying of arousal and embarrassment, Stevie tries, rocking his hips and wrapping his arms around his shoulders

- But he's burning up and floating away, so James takes over, lifting his own hips even as he pulls Stevie in tighter, words picking back up and pouring into Stevie's ear

- Voices soon rise to drown out the music, and James has a very good birthday indeed

Shadow, oh my goodness. This is so very delicious, as is everything you choose to share with us. 🥺 James would be one happy Daddy. 😮‍💨😋

[baahsu]

HEYYY ITS ME MYSTERIOUS ANON WHO PROVIDED THE ESSAYS WORTH OF VSCEST SMUT CONTENT AND.

1. OTHER ANON, I SAW THAT TWITTER ART AND I *THINK* YOU'RE THE ARTIST AND JUST KNOW I ALMOST ACTUALLY CRIED (/POS) UPON SEEING IT. I DIDNT BUT I DID SCREAM INTO MY PILLOW FOR REAL THO WHEN I SAW THE YONJI ONE. I ACTUALLY GASPED IRL OUT OF JOY LIKE YOU HAVE NO IDEA

ahem. apologies for yelling!!! but 2. op please do NOT delete ur twitter post (unless You want to, ofc) of my writing!! it made me so very happy to see that you liked my stuff sm that you went thru the effort of putting it on another site- like that is SO heartwarming and kind tf?? 🥺💗❤💙🖤💚

BUT happy yelling aside, im here to do my job and provide more content for ye. of many flavors, actually!! but ill start w this one and then probably continue my insane vscest ramblings in other asks lmao. if you don't vibe with this Mashup of characters then feel free to ignore this :]] <3<3

so. tumblr user baashu. i saw that you were in a ronami mood on Bird App. so. hear me out, maybe. robin, nami, and reiju all have a sleepover (emphasis on the Sleep part, but no one other than those 3 has to know that ;]) on the sunny!! reijus visiting, as she does

and sanji, hearing about this so-called sleepover through the grapevine, decides he's going to be a good nakama and little brother and surprise them with their favorite snacks and drinks!! sleepovers are always better with good provisions, especially for ones that go all night long

however. sanji was not expecting to open that door (yes it was unlocked for plot purposes and he didnt knock because he had like 7 different plates in his hands let me HAVE this) and see his 3 favorite girls going down on one another.

that boys cigarette fell STRAIGHT out his mouth- a tiny noise escaping him as all 3 girls heads snapped to look at him. he was ready to bolt SO fast, throwing the food he made as gently as he could onto a nearby counter and saying sorry about 40 times per second. he wasnt even halfway out the door before an array of arms sprouting from the floor dragged his ass towards the bed

you KNOW those girls are (lovingly, teasingly) bullying him the whole time, calling him sweetly degredating names. yet they refused to do more than that- not allowing him to touch/participate and yet refusing to let him leave the room

nami calling him a pervert, talking about how for every minute he's in there he gets 5% more debt added to what he already owes her (reijus head was between her thighs as she said all this, btw). robins flirtatiously scolding him about bad manners, leaning over to run her fingers across his cheek and neck as namis head layed on her naked lap. and reijus mouth was too busy to comment, but every once in a while she let out a giggle of agreement when one of her other two partners said something that really made blood drip out of sanjis nose

and once pretty boy was all hot and heavy, the only reason he was locked in place being the disconnected arms restricting his movements? they all take their sweet, sweet time in pleasing him.

AND HES NOT FUCKING COMPLAINING LMAO. this idiot got not one, not two, but THREE hot women to dom him, somehow, by just showing up at the right time. he's taking everything they put him through in stride, whether that be sudden overstimulation or tortuously slow edging, he's loving All Of It

they go the rest of the night until the sun is halfway up, the only reason they let him go being because if they didnt, luffy would come barging in, asking when and why breakfast hadnt been made

and so sanji walks out with an exhausted sense of satisfaction, rumpled close, weak knees, and a dopey smile on his face as he thinks about what to make that day to thank his lovely ladies for this equally as lovely gift

...or i should say he *limps* out, actually. what. you think all of of those girls didn't peg that man until he was screaming???

HAHAH OKOK IM DONE IM DONE I HOPE THIS WAS ALRIGHT AND NOT OUT OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE??? you says you ship allsan so. i hold this rarepair of mine up for you to look at with big eyes and shakey hands lmao

ANYWAYS i need to go write like. actual vscest now that i can post on ao3 someday. uh. see you oshdafafafafwy??? <3<3

AS SOON AS YOU PUT ROBIN NAMI AND REIJU IN THE SAME SENTENCE I KNEW THIS WOULD BE GOOD

THEY'RE LIKE THE OFFICIAL BULLYING SANJI SQUAD FOR ME! And sure reiju might go soft on him because reasons, but she has no problem teasing him and calling him sweet names. She can just let the harder stuff for robin and nami while she busies herself with their bodies instead

And imagining all of robin's arms and hands sprouting everywhere and completely pinning sanji down?? It's so good and so hot, so effortless for her and so effective. Not that sanji really needs to restrained, only look from nami and he'd be motionless, but it's just the fact that robin wants to do it and she knows sanji will melt and let them do whatever they want with him afterwards

I can totally picture nami playing hot and cold with him, one second praising him for being a good boy, on the other calling him a pervert, then saying he's so good to them, so attentive, then saying he's crossed a line and he should've knocked, such a bad, naughty boy that he is

Sanji's lucky he didn't need a blood transfusion after all that. But I mean, reiju was right there, he would've been fine and it would've been worth it

Also I just have to mention how sweet it was of sanji to think about getting them snacks 😭 I think he deserves all the praises just for that

[littleferal]

Sitting here thinking of Frankie spilled out across crisp white sheets like a sunset, all tanned skin and loose-limbed and completely relaxed. I just want to gather him up in my arms and kiss him for as long as he’ll let me.

oh my dear @softanon i looked at this ask so many times and im so in love with it 🥺 let the boys be soft, let them be loved and doted on as well!! 💛💛💛

1.6k of fluff below the cut, i hope it was worth the wait :")

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

You find Frankie sprawled out face-down across the bed, the clean and crisp bed sheets beneath him barely rumpled. It’s as if he simply lay down and fell straight asleep. He hasn’t even bothered to get dressed again properly after his shower, the black boxer shorts the only item of clothing on him, contrasting beautifully with his tanned skin and the white sheets. You find yourself feeling thankful there isn’t a clear view into your bedroom, because that would mean closing the curtains and you don’t want to - the late summer light is cast over Frankie in a hazed block, highlighting the broadness of his back. He faces away from it - face to the door - on his side of the bed, splayed limbs and his face squished against the pillow, your own pulled close enough he can no doubt smell it. (And that’s likely why).

As you lean against the doorframe watching you think that at least for now all you want to do is watch and bask in the peaceful ambience of the room. The dust motes in the evening light, the gentle hum of life somewhere outside. To let this moment be and take comfort in knowing that right now Frankie is here and he’s safe and he’s resting. You don’t want to disturb his rest - god knows he needs it - but seeing him like this, all loose-limbed and completed relaxed, you do want to be closer. You want to admire him, already mentally tracing lines down the softly defined muscles of his back, remembering the places where the few freckles from his afternoons in the sun are scattered across his shoulders. You want to gather him up in your arms, to kiss your way across the bared skin, shower him in affection and maybe - just maybe - that’d be a kind of rest too, to be wrapped up in your love.

In the end your own selfish desires win, drawing you over to the bed where you settle down next to him, at just the right distance that you think he might not have noticed the dip in the mattress. He does. Sensing you even when he’s mostly asleep Frankie makes a soft noise in the back of his throat before the hand nearest starts to search for you. Blindly patting and feeling his way across the bed, when Frankie finds your thigh his fingers slip up and over, gripping lightly into your soft skin so it dimples beneath his touch. He looks so peaceful you hardly dare to move in case it disturbs him again. But when he makes another noise and a gentle tug on your leg you go willingly. You settle yourself right alongside him then gently take his larger hand in your own, allowing him to sleepily shift and interlace his fingers alongside yours until he’s happy. Raising the paired hands to your lips you press soft kisses across his knuckles. He hums in content at the feeling, turning his face upward towards you though his eyes remain closed.

“Frankie?” He makes a quiet acknowledging noise. “You there?”

“Mmmmhm.” Comes the sound again, this time paired with a quick squeeze of your hand.

“You doing ok?”

He hums in response before, “tired.” Comes the reply.

“Yeah. You did a lot today didn’t you? You must have worked hard, I know it. Baby I’m proud of you.” At your words Frankie makes a small pained noise before pulling himself over, hiding his face fully against your leg, his arm over your lap and clinging to your other hip. “That kind of day?” He nods slowly against you, his nose dragging against your thigh with the movement. “Ok. I’m here.”

This you can do.

With one hand you cup the back of his skull, fingers threading through his still-damp curls and drawing mindless circles and patterns. It’s a gesture he’s done to you so many times that you know first hand the kind of comfort it brings, hoping it’ll do the same for him. Your other hand you allow to slide down onto his back, fingers spread to just feel him for a moment and feel his warmth. You study the contrasts of the two of you, how broad his back is under your hand, and how he appears even bigger when he sighs at the contact, pushing up into you ever so slightly before he finds himself too heavy and drops back down.

You lose yourself to it - the touch and how it soothes you both - and time drifts to feel molasses slow in the fading golden sunlight. Frankie’s breathing is a steady cadence, puffs of warm air against your leg, his back rising and falling under your hand as he breathes in and lets it out, becoming a comforting weight across you. You slowly admire him beneath you, allowing your fingers to trace up and down his muscles like you’d thought about, rubbing his back in a hope to soothe him before walking your fingers step by step from one freckle to the next. Frankie shivers at the tickle, grumbling slightly as he holds you tighter.

“Alright, alright,” You murmur. “didn’t mean you tickle you, softie.” He gives a huff of amusement at the endearment, and a small nuzzle against you in thanks for stopping as you run firm strokes over his back to ease the sensation.

Then your hands begin to wander on their own accord; finding what you know are his usual tight spots along his broad shoulders and at the base of his neck, digging your thumbs in and working to ease the tension. Frankie hums then lifts himself to shuffle even closer to you again. He gives a passing kiss to your stomach before resting his head on your other thigh and letting himself become heavy over you.

Once he’s settled you return to your work. You follow familiar tracks down his back, walking your thumbs down either side of his spine before repeating with long strokes and pressing down around and to his stomach. Over and over you go, firmly pressing into him until he stops shifting with the over-sensitivity of it. It’s hard to do some of it right with the angle, so you settle for the best you can and center in on what you know is usually tight. The worst is generally up his neck, the tension from holding his shoulders wrong causing permanent tightness there. You dig in, using your fingers to roll the muscles until they yield, mindful every time Frankie breathes hard against you. Until one time it catches and you stop, instead rubbing over the area to relieve the ache. You’re working up to finishing the short massage when Frankie notices and speaks up.

“Don’t stop.” It’s said so quietly you barely catch it, muffled as it is against your skin.

“What was that?” Maybe a lesser man would have changed his words, postured and put on a front. But Frankie - your kind and ever-open Frankie - only rolls his head to the side, cracks his eyes open to hold your gaze and repeats it.

“Please don’t stop querida.”

At his reassurance you shake your head gently in reply, then, “I won’t baby. ‘m right here, I got you.” His lips quirk up at the corners at your easy pet-name, enough to round his cheeks and soften his eyes as they drift back shut, the smile lingering a fraction longer before he pulls into you again.

When you return to it you work in earnest now but in broader pressures - pressing the heels of your hands into his back, pushing long strokes downwards and working the knots out. Frankie huffs at the ache and breathes out in measured breaths whenever you find something particularly tight that sends bright flashes of pain through his body. You’re mindful but know he needs it, evident in how the more you work the heavier he gets against you. Each passing of your hands makes the coil of his tension loosen more and more until he’s finally lying completely boneless against you.

“Alright,” You murmur, folding yourself down over him enough to press a kiss to his forehead. “Come on then love.” An eye cracks open at your words, a small groan of protest breaking the silence.

“Don’t stop…sleep.” Is all he mumbles in reply.

“I know Frankie. Sleep for both of us. That’s what I meant.”

It’s a bit of work to rearrange the pair of you, Frankie nothing but a mumbling weight, quietly protesting the whole shift. But as soon as you are both laying down facing each other he slots his leg between yours immediately, fitting his body alongside you like a paired puzzle piece. Nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck Frankie settles against you with a sigh. He’s all heavy limbs - an arm thrown over your waist and crooked up to reach for your shoulder, or maybe your head, but there’s no grip to his fingers, his leg trying to pull you even closer. It puts him back in reach for soft kisses, which you gently press against his forehead over and over, loving the reaction it gets from him - a soft huff as he pushes his face down each time, his beard rubbing at your skin but it’s worth it (like always). Your fingers thread again through his curls, dry enough now they’ve gone a bit wispy at the ends. You play with the individual strands, rolling them between your fingers until he shivers at the feeling against his scalp.

“Sleep.” And this time he truly sounds on the edge of it.

“Sleep.” You agree, snuggling in to enjoy his presence and the last of the day’s sun.

tell me your soft thoughts 🌙 + fluffy friday + my masterlist

[marvelous-harry]

So sub!H from the Oliver/Ben universe jerking off in secret beavusd he hasn't been touched in a week or so and feels so deprived, and he's all whiny while doing. He's got this really really filthy image in his head?? Maybe?? From his sir and daddy obviously.

Maybe he actually gets to cum, but shortly after Ben and Oliver find him panting and still shaking from his orgasm, then get upset at him for doing so

I honestly don't know what I'm saying anymore, I'm just requesting anything extremely smutty because I'm too horny 🥺😩

Naughty Daydreams Harry/Ben/Oliver Words: 1.5K I changed it a little, sorry xD

Popping another grape into his mouth, Harry watched transfixed as Oliver was practicing boxing with Ben. It was really sunny so they were both topless, just wearing shorts and their gloves. He could see how their muscles were moving, and hear their little grunts through the open kitchen windows.

Glancing down at his bowl as his hand came up empty, he saw that he was all out of fruit. Putting the bowl, he leaned against the counter, going back to his staring. Daddy and Sir had been teasing him for weeks (6 days) and his threshold for getting hard was very low at the moment as he hadn't cum for ages (still just 6 days) - and the lovely scene he had going on in front of him was definitely doing its job of getting him hard.

Whining, Harry tore his eyes away from Ben and Oliver and turned around. All he wanted was to rush outside and beg them to help him and let him cum. To take him hard and fast while....

"Noo," Harry whined and quickly started heading upstairs. He was going to do his chores like Sir had said. He was going to do laundry and tidy up in the bedroom. Nothing else. Nothing naughty.

Entering the bedroom, he could see that the bed was still rumpled from this morning. Going over, he started straightening the pillows. Huffing, he laid down on his back and gripped the sheets under him.

The images he had started daydreaming over earlier would not leave his brain. He could almost feel Oliver's hand around his neck, tightening his fingers as he watched Harry's eyes roll back.

Harry rolled over on his stomach and rolled his hips, pressing his crotch down into the mattress while whining - his cheeks warming up with a nice blush. He wanted Ben to tie him down and carefully shave his crotch before fucking him gently. "Sir.. Daddy.." Harry whined quietly as he couldn't seem to help but grind against the mattress.

It was so good, he just needed a little more and then he could finally cum.

"No, no," Harry mumbled and whined as he shook his head and tried to take a deep breath while he got up on all fours. "Being naughty," he whimpered and tried to will himself to get off the bed. He just wanted to cum so bad or even just touch himself a little bit.

"Kitten? What are you doing?" Oliver asked as he came into the bedroom and saw Harry.

Harry whimpered and quickly crawled over to the edge of the bed. "Sir!" he whined and grabbed onto Oliver and started pressing kisses all over his chest. "Please, need you. Please, fuck me, please, touch me, I was being naughty but I didn't touch, I swear I didn't touch and I didn't plan it, it just happened, please," Harry rambled.

"Harry. Breathe," Oliver said as he grabbed Harry's hair and pulled him back. "Look at me," he ordered.

Harry whimpered and licked his lips as he tried to pull free and hug Oliver. "Sir, please. Want Daddy, want you,"

Oliver tugged on Harry's hair harder and gave him a little slap on the cheek. "I said look at me," he said sternly.

Harry whined and tried to figure out what to do with his hands as he looked up at Oliver wide-eyed. He opened his mouth to speak but Oliver shook his head.

"No. No talking. Take your hands off me and put them on your thighs," Oliver told him as he kept eye contact with him.

Harry whimpered and could feel himself tearing up as he forced himself to take his hands away from Oliver. Whining, he raised them up from his thighs several times as he squirmed. He wanted to touch him! Be close to him!

"Listen. Take a deep breath, focus on my voice," Oliver said calmly, taking a deep breath to encourage Harry to do the same.

Harry whined but tried his best to take a deep breath.

"Good boy. Now I want you to tell me why and how you were being naughty," Oliver said as he crossed his arms and took a tiny step back.

Harry licked his lips and took another deep breath. "I was watching you and Daddy box and I got hard. I tried to be good for so long Sir, I promise!! I went to do my chores but I kept thinking and picturing things and I couldn't help it!" Harry explained while whining and squirming on his knees. "But I didn't touch!" he added, hoping to get some goodwill from that fact.

"You might not have used your hands to touch but you were still naughty," Oliver pointed out.

Harry whimpered. "Sir, I'm really sorry," he started reaching out for him before quickly putting his hands back on his thighs. "I.. I just," he mumbled before looking at Ben as he came in. Another whimper escaped him before he looked down.

"What's going on here then?" Ben asked, looking slightly confused.

"Our boy has been very naughty and was humping the bed. Apparently, our workout got him a little riled up," Oliver explained and put an arm around Ben's shoulder - pulling him close.

"Ooooh, I see," Ben chuckled and turned slightly towards Oliver. "I mean I totally understand," he teased as he stroked his hand over Oli's chest. "You're always so handsome when you work out," he mused before pulling Oliver in for a kiss.

Harry squirmed on his knees as he stared wide-eyed at them both, his cock twitching in his underwear and shorts. "Daddy," he whined. "Sir. Me too,"

Ben just made out with Oliver deeper, ignoring Harry for now as he continued whining.

Oliver closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Ben.

Harry whimpered and fought to keep his hands on his thighs as he wanted to touch them and bring them closer. "Please, me too. Me too. Harry too," he whined as he reached out towards them. "Please, Sir, Please, Daddy,"

Oliver grabbed Harry's wrist and broke away from the kiss as he stared at him. "Ben, did you tell Harry he could take his hands off his thighs?" Oli asked.

Ben shook his head. "No, no I did not," he replied and bit his lip.

Harry whimpered and tried to yank his hand back so he could put it back. "I'm sorry!"

Ben took a seat next to Harry on the bed and made him look at him. "Baby, do you want to cum?" he asked while rubbing Harry's cheek with his thumb.

Harry whimpered and nodded. "Yes please, daddy! Want to cum a lot, please!" he replied.

Ben smiled and gave him a little kiss. "Well then, it's very unfortunate that you've been very naughty today isn't it?" he said and gave Harry another kiss before standing up. "Dibs on the first shower," he said and patted Oliver's chest.

Harry let out a little cry. "Daddy!" he whined and fell down against the mattress. "No! I'll be good the rest of the day and every day from now on!" he rubbed his eyes and sniffled as he kicked his legs slightly.

Oliver chuckled and walked over to the bed.

"Sir, please, I wasn't really that naughty," Harry protested as he looked up at him sadly.

"Really? So you think humping the bed is just a slight rule break? Kind of okay?" Oliver asked as he grabbed Harry's hands and pulled him up to sit.

Harry didn't reply just whimpered.

"Come on, 15 minutes on the naughty step," Oliver told him as he helped him off the bed.

"Nooo, not the naughty step! I don't like the naughty step!" Harry cried, pulling on Oliver's arm to try and stop him leading him down the stairs over his to his designated naughty step.

Oliver kept leading Harry over and grabbed his phone out of his shorts. "I'm ready to start the timer but first you need to sit down," he said.

Harry shook his head and whined. "Nooo. Sir, I don't want to," he sniffled and tried to get Oliver to hold him.

"Harry, you need to sit down or I'll add time to your punishment," Oliver told him sternly and pushed Harry's hands down.

Harry let out a sob and closed his eyes as he sat down on his step.

"Thank you. Okay, I'm adding one minute so 16 minutes in total," Oliver said and showed him his phone.

"Sir, sit with me," Harry whimpered - reaching out for Oliver.

"No, I'll be just over there by the TV. You're going to sit in your time out alone. You ready to start the timer?" Oliver asked him while taking a step away so Harry couldn't reach him.

"Yes, Sir," Harry sobbed and nodded.

Oliver hit the start button and showed it to Harry. "Okay, I'm going to go over there now. Be good and sit still,"

Harry whimpered and stared at Oliver sadly and longingly as he walked over to the couch and sat down. Being on the naughty step was the worst!

[bloodpenned]

( sad caleb content has given me a mood 🥺😭 all the biggest “take care of him!!!” alarms going tf off. )

Ragged boy with hands too cracked and clothed rumpled, overworn, scars and bites peaking out from the collar of his neck? Getting yelled at by a couple, seemingly only saying things that keep incensing them towards chaos, til the guy finally punches him right in the nose and leaves him stumbling with a dazed smile?

Well, no one’s ever accused you of being well-adjusted. The way he wipes his blood on the edge of his sleeve that already has mysterious stains on it makes you pause. The blood dripping down his nose does something funny to your gut. Pathetic and easily bruised and a jarring sight to see surrounded by people who don’t know what it’s like to love blood smeared on skin.

You could just walk by and let this simple curiosity be nothing but a thought. But he coughs, throat scratched up and wheezing - he’s revolting. He’s lovely. Throw caution to the wind and edge closer to him til he notices you and cracks a joke about your ass or your lips. Smile pleasantly while you dig out a handful of napkins and reach out for him- is it okay? - you ask and he immediately says yes, like there’s no other answer at all. Clean up the blood and fluids around his nose and mouth gently, careful to avoid any flinching. (Honestly, you’d kiss him as is, blood and bruised face and spit and all. Boys like him kiss the sweetest at the end of the day.) Go into the convenience store nearby and buy him some ointment, some disinfectant, and sit him down on a bench while you patch him up. It’s what anyone would do, you say, but your intentions are hardly noble when all you want is to touch his cracked skin a little more.

Finish up and give into the desire to touch his hair and call him a good boy, he did so well. Underneath all that mess, his eyes are pretty. Take a gamble, ignore the need to take him home, and wait. Pretend you don’t feel exhilaration when you notice a familiar face in the crowd. (You want to tug him into an alley and shove his face between your legs. You want to sit him down in a bus filled with people and ride him, right in the middle of all those people, while he grips your shirt and whimpers. You want to see if he’d sit obediently and let you brush his hair til all the knots are out. He’d look so sweet curled up in your silk sheets, warming your bed.)

But you can play the long game. You’ve learned the hard way that if you try and hold onto someone the way you want to, they’ll drown under the weight of it all.

… you may or may have not presumptuously already bought a collar. Fuck.

ANONNN i love your mind <33333 creep x creep romance with caleb is the way to go. im just LKAJSFLKJSDFLKJSDF THIS IS GOOD.... VERY....

Caleb looks as dazed as he did after he was punched when you finish cleaning up his face. It takes a lot to resist grabbing your hand and pushing it against his face again. He's not used to touch without pain. (And he likes it that way, but it makes anything else stand out all the more.) Doesn't know how to return your pleasant smile with a nice one of his own, he always smiles too wide, with the slightest hint of teeth. The cracks in his dry lips widen. Nothing about him is approachable. (hunched over, panting like a dog, voice scratchy when he 'hits on' you, face and neck blotched red, licking the blood from his upper lip.) But you did anyway. This sparks a bit of interest inside him, more than the typical stranger.

So he follows you like a loyal dog, just half a step behind your pace. Never right next to you. Loiters outside the store while he waits for you to return instead of going inside. He's happy to be patched up in public. Caleb shuffles as close to you as he can, and you already have to be pretty close to each other so you can help. There's no way you aren't smelling his sweat. He shivers as you rub his skin, turning flush underneath your touch. When you disinfect the wounds, he moans at the sting it gives. At least he has the decency to apologise for that, albeit with a breathy chuckle and more of his 'smiling'. Caleb fully believes he's the only one with less than savoury intentions here. He's always blind to the perversion in others.

Even as you touch his hair (that might stick to your hand with how greasy it is) and call him a good boy, he assumes you to just be some sweet stranger. He shudders and breathes hard at how pleasant it is, and, for once, tries to act subtle not to draw attention to how obviously hard he is. Snatches your wrist when you turn to leave and stutters out a request for your name, but nothing more. His hand is so slick.

Of course he starts hanging out at the same spot, hoping to see you again. In a way, he plays the long game too. Caleb follows and waits and sees the places you frequent, to make it more likely to run into you. All for just a glimpse, a reminder of your touch. But he's too nervous to approach <3 He'd rather have the memory of how nice you were, than have a second encounter go terribly.