#i am actually struggling so fucking hard at this

[heavywithourbabies]

Ok. Let me get in front of it. I fucking LOVE this. The utterly exhausted, completely over it, aches and pains everywhere, just miserably fucking pregnant as fuck. I can practically hear her body screaming to get this fucking kid out of me.

It massively turns me on. The absolute struggle. The heavy swollen burden weighing you down. The painfully swollen tits and the engorged raw nipples. The braxton hicks and the shooting lightening crotch. How you need to carry around extra panties because you are leaking between your thighs, and it is hot and wet like a god damn swamp, and you're so ashamed of all the discharge and creaminess....not to mention soaking through all your maternity tops because your milk came in crazy early....

Yes. I am aroused immensely by all of that. I get off knowing it's so hard and you're done and it's my fault you're hurting because I got between your legs nine months ago.

I enjoy all of the pregnancy suffering. But if i'm being honest, that's just a weird lizard like response from my brain. I have a sadistic streak of wanting my woman to bear the heavy burden of my children.

It just gets me off.... but in reality, knowing you are hurting and aching so bad, and God, the trials of actual labor and birth on your poor body, it makes me feel really really bad. Cause i know i did this to you and I can't take it back.....

I'm not gonna get into a sob story about the Ghost Hosts less than stellar childhood and if i'm being perfectly up front, a little bit of molest happened. Just a scoop. but it left me with this weird need to feel powerful as a man, and that my cock can do all this damage with just one little sperm and fuck you up completely....

I know some of my stuff can be problematic. i'm looking more around at other pregnancy blogs and I honestly don't like some of the ugliness I see. But I played a part and god forgive me, I still get rock hard for the uncomfortable ache of the third trimester, so I guess i need to own it a little.

I'm working on myself and trying to evolve. Things can't stay this stagnant with the same keeping women down under your control like attitude. We are given the best gift of all if any women decides to carry our babies. That means something.

[redzevousv]

DEADPOOL’S EXCLUSIVE FAN-SERVICE P.1 — WADE WILSON.

RATING: R, 18+

WARNINGS: Sexual content, fem reader, bondage, sexual innuendos, explicit language.

WORD COUNT: 965

SUMMARY: Captured and restrained, you find yourself at Deadpool's mercy after revealing you intentionally hired him for some intimate fan-service.

A/N: First writing of mine that I'm posting to my page, please don’t judge me too hard! I will be regularly posting more Deadpool content as I revise my page. Will be posting part two of this work when I have the time.

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You look up at him, panting, still strapped to the chair with your hands tied tightly behind your back. The rough rope digs into your wrists, the slight burn adding to the ache between your legs. The air is thick with tension, every breath tasting metallic from the cold barrel of the gun pressed to your temple. Your body, slick with sweat from the chase, feels confined in the damp fabric clinging to your skin.

“You know, all this chasing, tying me up, gun to my head, it’s precisely what I imagined,” you say, your voice trembling with anticipation. Deadpool tilts his head, his fingers flexing around the gun, the leather of his gloves creaking faintly. His scent—leather, metal, gunpowder—intoxicating you with arousal.

He chuckles softly, leaning in just enough for you to feel his breath ghost over your cheek. “Imagined? Got a little death wish fantasy going on here?” His voice is smooth, laced with a hint of sarcasm.

You laugh shakily, struggling to catch your breath. “Not exactly, though, I am the one who hired you.” The words leave your lips boldly, tasting like victory. For a second, you wonder if this is too crazy, even for him, but you press on, heart pounding.

Deadpool pauses, his gaze narrowing even through the mask. His entire posture shifts, boots scuffing the ground as he takes a step back. “Wait, you’re the one that called?!” His voice is thick with disbelief, pointing a finger at you accusingly. “Is that why your voice sounds so familiar?” The sudden shift in his tone sends a thrill through you.

“Yes, that was me,” you admit, almost proud. Your voice is husky as you try to steady your breathing. The ropes chafe against your wrists as you squirm, your skin burning where it rubs. “What better way to get some exclusive fan-service, right?.” You can’t help but let your eyes trail down his body, the tight red suit accentuating every muscle. God, he’s so fucking hot.

Deadpool stands silent, processing your words. Then he bursts into laughter, nearly doubling over. “Oh my god, you actually hired me to kill you just for this little rendezvous? Holy shit girl, you crazy!”

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. The heat of his body radiates against yours as he lowers his pistol to his side. “You do realize there are easier ways to ask a guy out, right?” His voice drops to a teasing whisper, and the proximity makes you squirm, the ropes biting into your wrists again. “Just throwing that out there.”

You bite your lip, feeling your breath hitch as your eyes drop to the zipper below his belt. The suit clings to him in all the right ways, the fabric shifting with every slight movement, making it hard to focus. “I’m not hiring you to take me out,” you murmur, voice thick with desire. “I’m hiring you to take me.”

Deadpool freezes for a heartbeat, his eyes narrowing as realization washes over him. Then, with a slow, exaggerated movement, he gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his mouth. “Oh, I see what this is, you dirty little slut!” The mocking tone in his voice, his teasing, sends heat pooling between your thighs. “Gotta admit though, I’m impressed, that’s some next-level commitment right there.”

He places a hand on his hip, still holding the gun in the other. His stance is almost cocky, and even though the mask hides his expression, you can practically feel his grin. “Listen, I’m flattered, but do I look like a hooker to you?! Hate to break it to ya, but I don’t charge by the hour, sweetheart.”

You give him a pleading look, your body tingling with anticipation, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. “Pretty please” you beg, voice breathless as you shift in the ropes. “Consider it a bonus from your biggest fan, yeah?” Your eyes meet his, the tension between you almost crackling now.

He stares at you, fingers playing idly with his gun, weighing his options. The soft click of metal against metal fills the air as he contemplates. “Not every day I meet a fan who’s this determined to get in my pants,” he muses, his voice teasing but edged with a slight seductiveness.

He looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on your body, the way you’re tied up, chest rising and falling with every desperate breath. “Plus, I do love a good bonus,” he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. Finally, with a dramatic sigh, Wade holsters his gun, the sound of the weapon sliding into its sheath sends a shiver down your spine.

“Fuck it, I’ll give you what you want, but only because I admire your sheer, unhinged dedication.” He steps closer, his gloved fingers tracing the ropes binding you to the chair. The leather brushing against your skin made your body tremble.

With a swift motion, he cuts through the ropes securing you to the chair. You feel the sudden release of tension as the bindings fall away, leaving your body free, though your hands remain tied behind your back. He knows exactly what he’s doing, leaving you like that.

“Now, down you go, sweet girl,” he says, voice low and commanding. His hands grip your shoulders, pushing you slowly down to the floor. The rough wood presses against your knees, and you look up at him, your heart pounding.

“On your knees.” His voice is husky, almost a growl, and you feel a thrill of excitement run through you as he watches you, a hint of amusement in his eyes behind the mask. He thought it was about time he deserved some compensation for all his hard work—other than money, of course.

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@redzevousv - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, but I do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied.

[happistar]

@nezumithewriter

nez please help i am really bad at domino battle how the fuck do i solve this

[mysunshine-youremoonlight]

hey bestie hows it going :)

hai kai howre u :3

its !! going. second week of classes finished . im exhausted as fuckeroni but im surviving. somehow. the power of anime boys or smth idfk .

did u know i had to install fortnite for one of my classes. fortnite, kai! i've avoided touching that game since it came out!!!!!! and yet. one of the little engine things we use in intro to game design is UEFN (unreal editor for fornite) which requires u to have fortnite 😔 my epic games account is forever tainted. or something equally as dramatic.

its fine tho my laptop's too shit to run UEFN so i only actually have fortnite installed on a school computer in one of the labs. lmao.

[faaun]

ok let's catch up quickly

[seventh-district]

so uh. that 2.2 Special Program, huh

[skitskatdacat63]

Finished part 1 of my project :) ...why did I resign myself to making 4 drawings what is wrong with me

[themanwhowouldbefruit]

my doctor was sooooo fucking worthless and unhelpful im going to masturbate and i hope it fucking kills me

[mosscreeper-ao3]

I was correct in my assessment that the James whumptober fic was going to be one of the most challenging things I've ever written.

[piplupod]

mother: "theres this great job where you'd be on-call to come in!"

me: "ahhh i don't really want to be on-call, that would stress me out a lot because I'd always be on edge,,"

mother: "no you wouldn't, you could make it your thing!"

me: "...my thing?"

mother: "being on call! it'd be great! :)"

me: "i would probably be crying like... a lot ahaha. because I would always be on edge never knowing when to expect having to go into work, yknow?"

mother: "nooo, you could just make it a thing!"

me: "sorry, what do you mean by thing?"

AND I NEVER FOUND OUT !!

[ozymoron]

reading posts that come across my dash and sitting for a minute to debate with my mental disorder if not reblogging this will mean a hell portal will open beneath my feet and i will suffer for eternity for my lack of action or if its all good and i can just scroll on by (its usually the hell portal thing)

[g0thsoojin]

🦴

[freakwiththeknifecollection]

Years of reading and writing disapproving parent fic have come back to haunt me, as I'M now the one committing faux pas in front of my partner's uptight parents 🫠✌️

[triglycercule]

i want to headcanon the mtt having absolutely terrible hygiene and struggling to keep themselves clean (this MAY... just QUITE POSSIBLY.... only in the SLIGHTEST bit be projection) but i think it would be too gross and man EVEN I dont wanna think about that

also killer canonically smells good and i actually really LIKE that idea so oh shit there goes that idea out the window. horror and dust youre my only hope please let me make you smell bad for reasons you won't understand

[mossflower]

ok i’m gonna set an alarm but it is not the end of the world if i miss the lecture tomorrow

[toastsnaffler]

was gonna say smth else but this turned into a vent sorry everyone just ignore. typical weekend post on this blog u know how it is here we go👍