c-nstellati-ns - Tumblr blog

[c-nstellati-ns]

if you write a thing about the creaming the zussy i will kiss ur boots

The boots better be shining when you're done.

How To Cure Zombies 101

CW:NSFW MDNI, crackfic obv PiV sex, TLOU Clicker trans Ghost, Top Male Reader, established relationship, happy ending, dub-con because Simon consented before he got bit but reader is apprehensive, zombie sex (does it count as necro?) how does this work? idk porn logic. Don't ask me how this happened, i hope this doesn't become what my blog becomes known for.

When the Cordyceps spread across the planet and turned millions of people into shambling mushroom infested undead, the world ended.

When Simon got bitten. . . your world ended.

You still remember it like it had been yesterday; He came back bloody, an empty look in his eyes as he showed you the bite on his arm. Your hands shook as he wrapped them around the grip of the gun and aimed it at his head. You both ended up on the floor with you crying into his chest, unable to pull the trigger.

You remember the resigned look in his eyes when he had agreed to let you do whatever you needed to him to cure him, but both of you knew there was no way, what made you immune to the fungus was as mysterious to the rest of the world as it was for you. His lips had been burning hot when he laid a soft kiss on your forehead, the last sense of warmth you've felt since the docs took him to where they kept the infected for study, your heart leaving with him.

And now?

Now the scientists that have been prodding you like a lab rat since Simon got bitten nearly a year ago say they have a way to bring his mind back, to get Simon back.

And the way to do it?

"So let me get this straight?" You begin, your voice tense, your body even tenser. "You want me to fuck the corpse of my lover? And that will cure him?"

That. You're not sure how the eggheads arrived to this conclusion, frankly all of their scientific jargons had flown over your head. All you understood was that the man you had fallen since the first time you met him could be brought back.

You sincerely hope you won't make some type of super fungus through this.

Words can't describe what you feel as you look at Simon's (is it even Simon?) bound body writhing on the gyno chair, naked and bare to you. You doubt you even know what you feel, hope and fear simultaneously curling in your stomach— You hadn't had the courage to look at him ever since the scientists took him away; The harsh laboratory lights make it easy to see the mycelium filling his veins beneath the ashy pale skin, mushroom caps growing beneath his pecs and across all other scars he has. Red and yellow mushrooms have eaten away his nose and spread out to follow the contours of his face, growing in a way that makes the mushroom caps blend together into a skull shape.

Your heart aches when you see his eyes haven't been eaten away yet, the once deep brown turned milky white and staring lifelessly past you, thrashing about in the bindings, rotten teeth gnawing on the ball gag in his mouth, small hisses and malformed muffled clicks echoing through the room.

You try to look down and you stop at his stomach, forcing yourself to breathe in and out slowly because your heart is beating so fast it feels like you'll have a panic attack. You have no idea if this will work and doing this to Simon only to find out it's as useless as all your previous attempts to cure him. . . you're sure it would break you. Closing your eyes and counting to ten you will yourself to focus, your eyes opening slowly and following the trail of little mushroom caps down to his groin.

It's not what you expected., but it's. . . a lot; Mushroom caps have replaced the lips of his cunt, similar to the hard growths on his head but these look thinner and longer, almost like flower petals framing his cunt, bright red at the corners and getting progressively lighter as it nears his hole. A sort of morbid curiosity compels you to reach out brushing your fingertips against the caps. They're surprisingly softer than you had expected, smooth and slick with some kind of slime. You can't help but notice how a longer stalked mushroom grows from what had been his clit.

You jerk your hand back when a second brush of your fingers makes his body to jerk back and attempt to fight against the restraints, more angry clicks vibrating his throat.

But you also notice a kind of… sweet scent in the air and it's coming from him. Cautiously you brush against the caps again, slowly dipping your fingers under to touch the gills underneath. You keep your hand where it is when he thrashes again, but you're certain that smell is stronger now, and you catch the glimpse of clear viscous slick slowly leak from his hole.

Carefully you push a finger into his hole in an attempt to stretch him out. Logically you know that he probably doesn't feel it, but it feels wrong to just stick your cock in him; He's cold. You know he's dead but you had held out some hope that he would be warmer, that there would be some signs of life despite how stupid that sounds.

He's dry right now, but more of that clear fluid seeps around your fingers and lubes the way as you experimentally push your finger all the way up to the last knuckle, and you felt his muscles flutter around you, clenching down as if trying to draw you in deeper. His head continued to thrash around, no change in the feral behavior, but you still try to be gentle, pushing one then two fingers in and slowly scissoring him open.

You pull your fingers out when his hole has relaxed enough to let you easily slide your fingers in and out, and he's produced enough slick to completely drench your hand. You try to look at him as you press your cock against his fluttering hole, but the sight of his milky eyes almost makes you soft on the spot so you screw your eyes closed and slowly slide in.

Despite how cold and wet his cunt is, you haven't felt anyone's touch, even your own, since he got infected, and a part of you feels disgusted at how a bit of pleasure traces up your spine. He continues to hiss and click as you bottom out, his hips bucking wildly you have to press them down. You set a slower pace than you're used to, keeping your thrusts even and consistent, afraid to tear anything but your fear is seemingly misplaced. He's so much wetter than he'd ever get before he got infected, slick wetly squelching as you bottom out over and over again, clicks and snarls accompanying every move you make.

You're ashamed to say you don't last long. Fuck, is he tight you've been ignoring your body for so long that when you accidentally brush against the stalk growing from his clit and his cunt suddenly tightens up like a vice you cum on the spot, your hips doing little minute twitches as you empty so much of your cum in his cunt that your balls hurt. You pull out just as slowly, both of your mixed fluids leaking out and almost getting caught by the soft mushrooms framing his hole.

You muster up the courage to look him in the eyes, and your heart breaks when his lifeless eyes blindly stare back at you.

You feel like a fool when the first time doesn't work, he's still just a body pupated by a fungus. And you feel like an even bigger fool when you agree to do this a second time.

But the third time. . .

You don't know if it's just wishful thinking but he seems more. . . alert. His head always follows you when you approach him but now his milky eyes almost seem to be looking at your face instead of staring straight through you. He's strangely still on the chair, teeth gnawing on the ball gag but he doesn't try to get out of the restraints.

He doesn't screech when you gently caress the soft outer mushroom caps framing his cunt, instead his chest vibrates with more deep clicks. Nor does he start to wildly writhe on the chair when you slowly sink a finger into his cunt, finding it's already wet with slick. If anything he almost seems to chase(more like stumble) after the sensation, his hips doing small little movements to push your finger deeper into him.

Emboldened by childish hope you do something you hadn't before and reach with your other hand to slowly trace the long stalk of the clitshroom (not a term you coined), before rubbing the base of the cap like you would your own cock.

You nearly jump out of your skin when the gentle pressure of your fingers makes him buck into your hands and let out an ear-piercing screech that the gag has trouble muffling. You pull your hands away and that worsens the problem, the shrieking turning into literal chest rumbling snarls as Simon starts to struggle against the bindings.

Panic rushing down your system you put your hands were they were, gently stroking the 2 inch long mushroom growing from his clit. His hips buck up to chase after your hand, the snarls reverting back into shrieks, but as you stroke him longer they gradually die down to low pitched clicks and whistles. You're stumped; the clicks sound a lot like a cat's puff, his hole fluttering and clenching around your fingers as you slowly push them inside.

He's warmer now, not quite how he was before, but not cold as a corpse either. You know that you've gone completely mad by the fact he starts to gyrate his hips— grinding down just as you get knuckles deep so your fingers can brush against the sensitive spots inside him — makes your mind think that it's a bit of your Simon coming back.

You shake your head and pull your hands away, taking hold of his trembling thighs. You're greeted with another deep snarl but he quiets down immediately when you start to slowly push into him. He feels even tighter now, and you watch how his head falls back on the headrest, a long series of low clicks and whistles squirming past the gag.

His hips move to meet your slow thrusts, tight warm walls squeezing down every time you attempt to pull out just like he used to do. And that thought has your body increasing the pace automatically, your balls slapping against his ass, every sharp thrust hitting something spongy inside him and drawing out a sharp click, the rough pace leaving you panting.

Mindlessly you look up, too caught up in the moment remembering how Simon loved eye contact to remember the situation you're in.

He's looking straight at you.

You halt mid thrust, the low hiss he lets out falling on deaf ears as you tilt your head to the side. You're not insane, his eyes follow you. They're still milky, but they don't look through you. He's looking at you.

Another rough clicking sound leaves him and he thrusts his hips down against yours with enough strength to bruise, almost impatient. Despite how stupid it is you reach out and quickly unbuckle the gag with trembling fingers. "Si?" You say, unable to hide the hope in your voice. "Are you there?" You lean over him, looking hopefully into his eyes. "Do you remember me?"

His jaw moves like he's munching on a survivor, but all that leaves his mouth are more clicks and rough grunts.

Fuck. You are a fool.

A sob tears through your chest before you can stop it, ducking your head down to lay it on his chest. You're unable to keep the fresh tears from falling on him, watering the damned mushrooms that had taken him from you. You can't stop the sobs from coming, your back bowed and shoulders shaking as you cry just as much as the day you first lost him.

His chest vibrates with another long series of clicks and whistles, just pouring salt on the gaping would in your chest.

Your name rights through the room.

It's scratchy, rough, almost incomprehensible to your ears, but it's your name.

You look up so quickly you almost snap his neck. "Simon?" You whisper, staying in him even as you feel yourself soften. "Are you in there?" You slowly reach out to hold his face, careful not to cut your hands on the sharp mushroom caps along his cheeks.

He looks at you back, jaw moving still, but he doesn't try to bite the flesh of your palms despite your hands being right there. "Ckckck-" He clicks, pupils going from pinpricks to blown out, "Ckckrkck- Mo- ckck-ve." He manages, a thrust of his hips accompanying the order.

Your heart leaps to your throat and you can do nothing but follow it, sliding one hand down to dig your nails into his thigh, looming over him as you pull out until only the head is inside and them slam into him that there's an audible clap of skin on skin as you bottom out. A half shriek half click half "Yes!" escapes him as he throws his head back, slack jawed.

A whole range of noises escapes him as you hammer into him with all you've got, one hand remaining always on his face. You can feel him getting hotter the longer you pound into him, body shaking as each thrust nails his sensitive spot. He gets progressively tighter and tighter as you fuck into him, and you let go of his thigh to carefully strike along the long shaft of the clitshroom.

He shrieks at the top of his lungs and his cunt clenches down on you like a vice, fluttering around you and gripping your cock like it doesn't want you to pull out. It pulls you into an orgasm,

"Simon?" You whisper, staying in him even as you feel yourself soften. He's too silent compared to how vocal he had been a few moments ago. "Are you in there?"

His head rolls a bit, peering at you through through his lashes, tongue moving heavily in his mouth and lips twitching up into a soft of barely-there grin. "Cckck- l- ckckc- love- ckrk-you -ckkckrkckck-"

Taglist: @dead-end-stuff

[c-nstellati-ns]

Possessiveness doesn’t always have to be a rough touch to show ownership. It can be light and subtle as ever; a hand on the lower back, a lax arm around the waist, being so familiar with their body like being familiar with their coffee order - splash of milk no sugar- fingers resting just below the spot where you know their birth marks, scars or tattoos lay, gently brushing over clothed skin carefully avoiding the spots where you know they’re ticklish and watching the way they lean into your embrace with a smile on their face.

Possessiveness doesn’t always have to be crashing your lips onto theirs in front of someone who is trying to flirt with them. It can be an indirect kiss- taking a drag from their cigarette, and tasting the sickly sweet lip balm they always wear on the tobacco stick - the cigarette smoothly shifting from their fingers onto yours like this little habit of yours had been ingrained into their bones, or drinking from their drinks - specifically from the one a stranger had bought for them, the sudden appearance of your hand onto their beer glass barley phasing them as they continue on with the conversation they are having with the stranger- your lips resting just on the place where theirs have been, spots still wet from when they had taken a sip, while flashing a smile at the strangers over the rim , you and the strangers now both aware that you’re the only who knows how those lips feel.

Possessiveness doesn’t always have to be growling “mine” into their ear. It can be something simple as causally mentioning their name in conversations with family and friends, so much so even strangers know them through the stories you’ve told them, maybe even adding a little my in front of their name, not so much in a possessive tone but rather with a certain familiarity and fondness when talking about the socks they tend to leave scattered around the apartment or using the endearment when talking to your significant other, looking at their glittery eyes and big smile as you hand them a gift they’ve wanted for a long time, because of course you know what to get for your love, right?

[c-nstellati-ns]

Whore 🗿 (I get it tho)

Unfortunately 💔 senshi is fine asf

[c-nstellati-ns]

i think i might need to get into dungeon meshi

[c-nstellati-ns]

lowkey getting into apex legends you guys whaat

[c-nstellati-ns]

hello folks who have still stuck around in this blog despite me not being too active, im ending college in three weeks! ill be much more active in the coming weeks, college has just sucked out all my will of living to be frank (harhar, love art school guys)

but anyways, you’ll see me soon enough! thank you guys so much for the patience with my hiatuses :’ )

[c-nstellati-ns]

we boopin

[c-nstellati-ns]

It's gonna be such a funny mess when Donald Trump dies of a stroke on April 1st, 2024.

Naturally everybody will think it's fake because of the date only to lose their minds (both positively and negatively based on their opinion of trump) when realizing it's real

There will be massive celebrations in the streets and on social media and lots of predictable "don't speak ill of the dead" discourse about those celebrations

Weird evangelicals will pull some weird number trick talking about how Jesus was conceived on April 1st and that makes Trump a sort of messiah and people will make fun of that

The Republicans (after they're done with the faux-sadness and faux-outrage) will stomp over each other to be his successor but none of them will succeed. They'll tear each other apart and have no single nominee for the November elections.

There will be discourse about if Biden and the living former presidents should go to his funeral (they won't, he was a traitor insurrectionist)

The Ukraine-Russia War immediately goes in favor of Ukraine as morale in the Kremlin is reduced. China similarly backs off from its threats on Taiwan.

Ten thousand new memes are made, some sticking around for years to come.

Not a month later a bunch of unofficial biographies of Trump hit the bookshelves, many with new details about just how awful he was.

[c-nstellati-ns]

Imagine Intoxicated Sex With Ghost

CW:NSFW, MDNI, intoxicated sex (weed) Subbot Ghost, domtop Mreader, safe/sane/consensual, smoking, playing with hands, anal, recreational drug use.

Ghost doesn't like being inebriated. Even when out drinking with the lads at the nearest pub he'll never reach the point of intoxication where he can't drive a car or punch a man's lights out if he needs to. He saw what booze did to his pa, saw what the drugs did to Tommy, he doesn't want the Riley 'legacy' to dig it's roots into him — just the thought of it makes his stomach churn and his lungs feel like they're infested with black mold.

But sometimes when both of you are on leave, the battlefield miles away yet the lingering ache of it all filling his bones with static, he'll indulge in the weed his doc prescribed. It took him a while to be comfortable to use it, both with himself and you. But he trusts you, knows you won't do anything to him that you two hadn't agreed to prior; you're good for him like that.

Too good.

Making the blunt feels intimate in a way Ghost can't describe. The way you sit right next to him on the couch, both of you on even level, works to relax some of the usual tenseness in his spine. It's the careful glide of your knife along the cheap cigar to create a clean cut so you can empty the dried leaves into the trash that has his heart beating a little faster — then again, he's always liked the look of a knife in your hands and how precise you could be with it.

He'd die before he told you his thoughts, so he takes the empty cigar paper without a word and carefully measures how much of the weed he puts in, just a little shy of the recommended dose. He feels your nonjudgmental gaze on his fingers as he rolls the makeshift blunt, yours might be the only one that doesn't make his skin prickle with discomfort.

"You're getting better at that." You note. Ghost's blunt making skill isn't such a slop-job as it used to be when he first started doing this, but it's by no means pretty. "Practice some more and they might start looking half-assed."

"Sod off." The edge in his tone would cut deeper if he didn't bump his shoulder against yours. "At least I don't make 'em look like logs of shite."

"Mean." You tut but shoulder his weight without complaint and wrap an arm around his waist. He leans further on you until he ends up laying across your lap, his back pinning your legs down and his head resting on the couch arm, making himself comfortable like a cat in a sunning spot.

"What? Can't handle the truth?" He says, staring at the blunt in his hand. You don't rush him, sitting in comfortable silence with your hand loosely carding through his disheveled hair, fingers scratching his scalp and the soft blond strands curling at his nape for a few minutes while Simon prepares himself. You know he's ready when he pulls the face mask off his face, biting the end of the blunt between his teeth and turning his head towards you.

You reach to hold his jaw, the sensation of your fingers scraping against his stubble both electric and calming for him. With a small 'click' an equally small flame sparks at the tip of the lighter, the fire dances in his dark eyes as you hold it at the other end of the blunt until it's tip is ignited.

Simon holds the blunt with his fingers, eyes closing as he takes a deep and controlled breath. The smoke lazily crawls down his trachea to settle in his lungs, he holds his breath until there's a small tightness in his chest before breathing out just as slowly. It takes a couple more puffs before he can feel the vestiges of that lazy high begin to nibble on his nerves, eyes cracking open to look at your visage through the dancing smoke.

Weed takes the edge off life for him; the constant ache of his body is easy to forget when the pleasant buzz fills his skull, chest full of feathers and a deep floaty calmness settling in his bones. Only his spine feels weird, like his lower back is made of kinetic sand, muscles tensing and relaxing but even that works to calm him down, ground him to the sensation of your fingers carding through his hair.

When a low grunt escapes him you lean down, plucking the blunt from his lips to kiss him. This kiss isn't rushed like most of your intimacy needs to be — you have all the time in the world. Ghost opens his mouth and hums into the kiss, the taste of weed on his tongue as he lazily licks into your mouth and along your teeth, lingering whisps of smoke escaping through the crack of both of your lips.

You part so he can take another drag of the blunt, your warm lips leaving chaste kisses on his forehead, nose, eyebrows, cheeks, eyelids when he flutters them shut, and anywhere where you can reach. From the corner of his eye he sees you turn the Tv on, setting some cartoon on a low volume to further ease him into the mental space of calmness. Then your free hand reaches to loosely hold his own free hand, your thumb tracing the scars on the back of his hand.

Your hands don't wander any lower, letting him feel your warmth while he lazily finishes his blunt until it's gone. "You alright Si?" You ask.

"Like a hog in shite." He manages, tilting his head to further lean into your hand that's scratching his scalp. It's something he loves about you — the slow approach you like to take with him. Not just jumping straight to sex, though that's fun too, but sitting there with him, letting him ramble about who knows what while you two watch some shite cartoon, giving him sweet kisses when his hand tugs on your shirt.

It makes Simon's heart feel like it could leap from his chest if his ribs weren't in the way. Fuck, at times like these he could probably spill his heart out to you if the weed didn't line his tongue with lead. He still tries in his own way, taking your hand that's holding his and starting to play with your fingers. Following the lines of your palm with his thumb, curling your fingers and laying sloppy kisses along your knuckles, humming contently when you hold his jaw loosely and scrape your thumb against his stubble.

Simon doesn't know when he gets aroused. Only that one moment he's not, and by the time you two part from another lazy kiss he's tenting his sweatpants.

"Hey," Simon grunts, holding your hand by the wrist as he nibbles on your finger. "Want you."

"You already have me." You snort.

Even high as a kite Simon's not all too pleased with your humor, nipping your finger just at the edge of pain. "Smart arse." His lips follow his teeth to soothe the bite with a small kiss. "Want your cock."

Straight to the point, that one.

A small laugh escapes you, "Alright, alright." He grumbles like a bear roused from hibernation when you have him sit up. He grips your shirt to demand one more kiss from you, your lips distracting him so he doesn't notice when you pick him up. The face he makes is hilarious, like a dog that thinks he's too heavy to be picked up.

But he gets over it quickly, large arms wrapping around your neck to hold onto you as you stumble to the bedroom. A breath escapes him when you lay him down on the bed and he doesn't let go, resulting in you tumbling into bed on top of him. The curse you let out when you fall on him makes him giggle like a school boy.

He's absolutely no help when you try to take his clothes off, laying there like a sack of potatoes and only occasionally wriggling in place. Simon gives you an annoyed look and a chiding "Why'r you so slow?" when you have him lift his hips so you can slide his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. His cock bobs against his belly, a tiny drop of precum smearing against his skin.

"Because you're no help." You grunt, quickly taking your own clothes off. "Seriously Si, you're like trying to move a mountain."

But you don't mind him being like this. You love it, and you love him when he just huffs something under his breath and flops over on his front. He spreads his legs, his hard cock laying between his thighs and his hole just peeking out from between his cheeks. "Mhm," Humming Simon hugs the pillow, nuzzling his cheek into it as he gives you a lazy look, his pupils blown wide and eyes puffy. "Sounds like an excuse t'me."

Even with you it took him a while before he could turn his back to you like this, trust you like this.

"Fuck Simon, look at you." Gently you push another pillow under his hips to hike them up and the way he arches his back to grind his cock against it has your breath stuttering in your chest. You can't keep your hands off him, gingerly massaging the back of his thighs as you slowly trail up, purposely skipping over his ass to dig your thumbs into his lower back. "Gorgeous."

Simon lets out a slow breath as your fingers make the muscles relax, eyes closing and his back rippling as he melts into the sheets. "Well aren't you a charmer." His voice is mumbled into the pillow and the small wiggle of his ass he does to entice you is cute as hell. "C'mon." He nags, throwing the harshest glare he can at you. "Fuck me already." He demands, but he doesn't try to get up from his position, content to just lay and have you listen to his commands.

That's another thing side of Ghost you only see when he's high as a kite — he likes being a pillow prince, to give you orders and rest easy knowing you won't do anything he doesn't want. If it doesn't make your heart melt, that he trusts you like that, you don't know what will.

"Alright, alright," You placate him by finally groping his ass while you grab the lube on the nightstand with your other hand. You squirt a generous amount on your hand and warm it up between your fingers, settling between his legs in a way you can lay kisses along his spine while you slowly circle your fingers around his hole. You reach around with your other hand to lazily stroke him, the lube making the glide of your hand smooth and pleasant.

He's more vocal like this, a low half moan leaving him as Simon closes his eyes. Usually the feeling of a body looming over his back would have him tensing and bearing his teeth, but all he does now is breathe in and relax, muscles tensing for a fraction of a moment when your fingers breach him before he relaxes again. Simon's arms tense to hug the pillow tighter, the soft material muffling the soft moans and deeper grunts you pull from his chest with every small movement of your finger.

It's impossible for you not to tease him. "You like that, sweet prince?" But your tone is light and loving, pushing your finger deeper and distracting him from the small hints of pain the stretching of his muscles brings by stroking his cock more firmly, thumbing his cumhole.

Simon moans unabashedly and nods, biting the pillow and worrying it between his teeth when you push another finger inside him. "Mhm," He doesn't deny it. He can't deny it when the weed in his system makes the pleasure 10 times stronger, the usual electric pleasure now slowly replacing the marrow in his bones as your fingers twist and curl against his slick walls. "So good fer me." He mumbles.

Simon feels like he's floating on a cloud; Each kiss along his spine makes small shivers race down his limbs, the coldness of you pouring more lube over his hole complementing the heat of your hand around his cock, his drool soaking into the pillow and the sweetest sounds escaping him as you stretch him out. His cock leaks a constant stream of precum, his hips occasionally giving minute twitches to fuck into your hand but he's too relaxed to do more than that.

"Ready?" You ask when you think he's stretched enough, slowly pulling your fingers out of him. His hole clenches around nothing, dollops of slick lube escaping past his rim and running down his heavy balls; neither him nor his body is happy about the sudden lack of stimulation.

"Hurry." He orders, cracking an eye to watch you from the corner of his eye as you trail kisses up his spine until you're draped over him, catching his lips in a sloppy kiss while you lube your cock and line yourself up.

He moans into your mouth when the tip of your cock pops into him. "Fuck, yes lovie- just like that. . ." Your name sounds like honey on his tongue as you slide in deeper. His muscles contract and relax with each inch you push into him until he's left panting against the pillow when your balls finally rest against him. He's so hot around you, slick and pliant and trusting, blindly seeking you out for another kiss as you both adjust to the new position.

"Good?" You lazily stroke his cock again, feeling his back muscles ripple against your front as the pleasure washes over his system.

"Perfect." He moans and rolls his hips into your hand, simultaneously fucking himself onto your cock. "Move."

"Yes sir." You grin. You keep the pace slow and loving, a continuous and slow roll of your hips making your cock drag against his prostate. Reaching out to hold his free hand you rock your hips to meet his own movements. Each slow scrape of your cock against his walls has him whimpering, an occasional sharp thrust earning you a pleased moan, the pillow muffling the little breathy 'ah- hah-hm- ah' he makes when you grind your cock as deep as it'll go while rubbing his shaft.

Pleasure continues to build in his body, muscles tensing and relaxing, every single thought melting out of his skull save for your name that he moans like a prayer, your loving movements slowly and steadily turning Simon into a pile of goo. He doesn't even notice when he cums, it rushes through him like lightning striking a tree, pearly cum spurting over your hand as he shouts a loud "Fuck!".

You slow down only for a few seconds, long enough for him to come down from his high and begin grumbling and whining, showing you that he's nowhere near reaches his limit despite his cock softening in your hand. So you indulge his gluttonous side, starting to slowly thrust into him as you stroke his soft shaft. You cum eventually, his hole greedily clenching around you as you shoot your cum inside him and then keep going on fucking him until his voice becomes hoarse from screaming your name.

By the time you two are well and truly done you're both wrung dry, a sizable puddle of cum formed beneath his cock and his hole loose and lax, trying to clench around your cock and the cum you fucked deep inside him.

You use what sense you have in your skull that hadn't melted through your cock to roll you to over on the side so he's not laying in his own cum. Simon grunts when you attempt to pull out, gripping your hand as tightly as his relaxed muscles can until you get the message and lay back down, spooning him with your cock still deep inside him.

And fuck, the buzz of weed and pleasure from sex has him so loose and relaxed you could do anything to him and he wouldn't object. But you don't, simply cuddling up against his back and kissing his sweaty nape.

He loves you for that. He loves that he can trust you. He doesn't know when the last time was when he was this relaxed. A small giggle escapes him and he tilts his head back so you can lay kisses on his neck.

"Love you too Si." He hears you mutter against his ear before he falls asleep. And for the first time since the last time you two did this, does he sleep without the nightmares of a cold grave and a burning home haunting his dreams.

Tag list: @dead-end-stuff

[c-nstellati-ns]

BG3 Men and their favorite ways to have sex (first installment as I will give each man their own post!)

Nsfw do not interact: Minors, Fem Aligned, no pronouns in bio, no age in bio.

Character in this: Wyll

Cw: M!Reader is topping. Sweet sex, morning sensual sex, slight edging, fingering, blowjob, aftercare/breakfast in bed (reader is so sweet to him! As reader should be!)

941 words, I made this. Don't use this/put this in ai. Thank you :3

Wyll likes morning sex. Waking up to your warm hands trailing up his sides, your lips brushing against the back of his neck gently. The sensations send a shiver down his spine, his head leaning back to give you more room to work with. Mouth falling open when your hands reach his nipples, rubbing and rolling his sensitive buds for a moment.

His sleepy state lessens as one of your hands trail down to graze against his hard length. Making him inhale sharply and look down to watch your fingers run over his wet tip. Bare body unrestrained as he bucks his hips up for more.

"I've got you, my love. Just wanted to wind you up for a moment." You chuckles against his neck, kissing it once more before moving to settle yourself between his legs. Wyll already lying back comfortably, eyes heavy and lidded as he looks up at you. Cock twitching as you drink in his naked form, still warm and soft from sleep. His own eyes trail across your form, breath hitching once his gaze lands on your hard length. Much bigger than his own, thick as you slide it along his length. Your precum helping to ease the glide, as you wind Wyll up for just a moment more.

"Don't tease me, love. Please?" Wyll's voice like velvet in your ears, low and soft from just waking up. Making you let out a low noise, bending down to drape yourself over him and kiss his chin.

"Anything for you, always." Bending to his words so easily, how could you not? He's so sweet, and you've fallen for the best kind of man. The kind that's pure of heart, and brave when others falter.

Your hand reaches for the oil on the nightstand, dipping three of your fingers to coat them thoroughly. Returning between his legs while on your stomach, and tracing a finger at his entrance. Not as tight after the night you two shared yesterday, but still, you want to make sure he can take you.

With your head on his thigh, you begin to kiss his tip. Your finger slipping into him as you swirl your tongue on his cock head, making Wyll moan and thunk his head against the pillows. Hands fisting the sheets when your finger finds his prostate easily, knowing the mans body just as well as your own. Sucking only on his tip as you prep him thoroughly, driving him wild as you work him up to the brink. Only to be cruel and pull away, making his eyes fly open as he pants.

"Yes, yes. I'm quite the tease, but you'd rather cum while I'm in you, yes?" Your smile widens when he nods, his playful glare becoming wanting as your tip breaches him. Sliding in so easily it leaves you both breathless, making you lean down to drape yourself over him once more. Wrapping your arms around him as he wraps his arms and legs around you, the angle making him shiver as your cock nestles right against his prostate.

When he's ready, giving you a nod to move. It doesn't take long for the both of you to lose yourselves in the feeling. Lips meeting as you stay wrapped up in each other's embrace, hips rolling your length into him so well.

It doesn't help that Wyll is a vision in the soft morning light, he always is, but in this moment his skin glows beautifully. The streams of sunlight coming in through the curtains, making the beads of sweat forming on his body shine. He's perfect, and all yours.

Every thrust into him you can hear the breathy moans in your ear when you pull away from his lips to kiss at his neck, the soft hums when a you thrust deeply and grind a little. The breathless gasps when you nip at his jaw and perfectly time a thrust just right. Your slick bodies pressed against each other drives him wild, his cock perfectly sandwiched between you both. Driving him further and further to the edge.

You make sure he cums before you, shivering as he does so. Clenching around your length desperately, making you thrust twice more before flooding his walls. Panting against his neck as you both slowly come down from your highs, lips meeting once more.

"Stay here, I'll get you clean and fed, my dear heart." You mumble, pressing your foreheads together. Eyes closed but still you can feel the way he smiles softly, squeezing you once before letting his arms and legs fall back to the bed. The both of you groaning as you slide out of him as slow as you can, missing each other being so close together already.

You wet a rag with warm water, cleaning away the sweat from his face and body. Before gently cleaning away the mess on his happy trail and stomach, then the mess between his thighs. Murmuring soft praise at how he did so well, how gorgeous he is, how much you love him. His eyes closed in content as he lets your words wash over him, practically boneless against the bed as you take such good care of him.

You even move him to the other side of the bed, getting him to lay on the non sweaty part before you cover him with a blanket. Pressing a kiss to his temple before leaving to make you both breakfast. Something simple and easy, enough to fuel you both up and start your day.

And if it fuels you both up enough for another round, well. Who could blame you both?

[c-nstellati-ns]

i’m sooooooo normal about the god of war series. so incredibly normal i liked it a normal amount and would be so chill talking about it. don’t worry about the sign

[c-nstellati-ns]

Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but yknow the reason why vonous deleted his account, was because he's underage. And i don't have screenshots of him saying that to verify my claims so it's up to you to believe them or not

What.

[c-nstellati-ns]

Do i kms

[c-nstellati-ns]

Shout out to all the Black ppl that can no longer participate directly in the fandom they love because of the stresses of racism 👍🏾 you contain multitudes of value and I'm sorry that the color of your skin and the power of your voice makes people not want to acknowledge that.

[c-nstellati-ns]

Dear black readers,

Don’t be afraid to write that fanfic . Regardless of the film, celebrity, book, show, character, sexuality, genre, or whether you think it's good or not write it! There isn't nearly enough fan fiction for us to appreciate or relate to as it is. We’re just as important as any other reader and if the fandom claims that the character would never be interested in a black person, and?! How the hell they know? There's a reason it’s called fan fiction... Don't be ashamed to write it because you fear nobody will read it, they will. It's important, in my opinion, that black readers be able to visualize themselves in the book. So write the story! 🫶🏾

- Ary 💜

[c-nstellati-ns]

tumblr needs take care of these bots cuz im getting sick and TIRED OF THEM SHOWING UP IN RANDOM FUCKING TAGS HOLY SHIT DUDE

[c-nstellati-ns]

I'm not gonna be in the Call Of Duty fandom anymore, well, the MW fandom. at least not fully, and I will explain, but first and foremost I want to clarify: I'm NOT leaving tumblr entirely & I'm NOT gonna back down either from my previous statements. So, allow me to begin as to why I'm making this decision.

The rape, incest, pedo and animal abuse pornography

Quite frankly, as someone who has been through rape and child sexual abuse, I find it ABHORRENT that anyone would ever look at such abuses and decide to fetishise, romanticise and glorify these things. I do not care nor want to know your "justifications" because frankly there aren't any. As a survivor, I am aware that the fandom is malicious and nasty towards people like me; I am aware that you people willingly and HAPPILY engage with such harmful, disgusting material. Quite honestly, I could not name a space more dedicated to the harassment, malicious treatment and utterly disgusting behaviour towards these topics and the people who openly disagree with them.

The racism

Before you tell me "Call Of Duty fans have always been racist", I am aware of that. But I'm talking specifically about the niche fandom (because it is niche). The fandom treats Black and Brown characters utterly abhorrently; from turning Gaz into a stereotype through to fetishising Farah and everything in between, the fandom's racism is progressively getting WORSE - and then x reader writers (who are predominantly white) only add to that by purposefully and willfully excluding Black and Brown people from fandom altogether. The racism within this space makes it clear that anybody who is NOT white is NOT welcome, and frankly, I do not wish to be associated with such disgusting people. To treat Black people as tokens, to purposefully KICK people of colour out of fandom - it's disgraceful and I hope that everybody is ashamed of themselves.

The ableism and saneism

The Call Of Duty fandom is NOT a safe place for anyone who has a psychotic, schizospec, dissociative or personality disorder. Plain and simple. From the colloquial usage of mental health terms such as "delusional", through to the "jokes" which are made to trigger people with such disorders (e.g. "in your walls"), and to the casual usage of anti-psychotic slurs like "psycho" and "schizo", it's obvious to anyone with just one quick look that this fandom sees people with such disorders as either their punching bags, their "memes" or worse: not human at all. And this also translates to fanworks, as quite honestly, I'm tired of seeing the same treatment directed towards characters like Nikto, because it shows that you people do not care about us at all. We aren't human to you, and we never will be. We are not even worth CONSIDERING when it comes to offensive language - it's degrading, it's dehumanising and it's exhausting to have to constantly walk away from fanworks that are so obviously made with malicious intent.

The homophobia

I am a bisexual/pansexual/omnisexual/queer/whatever you wanna call it man, and the amount of homophobia in the Call Of Duty fandom is disgusting. No, bisexual men AREN'T your "uwu bby boy so soft such a bottom bitch!!". You perpetuating homophobic stereotypes for the sake of a ship is utterly and completely and truly vile. How dare you claim to support LGBTQIA+/queer people when you KNOWINGLY perpetuate these stereotypes? When you KNOWINGLY engage in homophobic behaviour. You are scum.

The antisemitism and islamophobia

This is a touchy subject for non-religious folk, but I really wish you lot would all leave religious people alone. It takes you two seconds to look up what Muslims and Jews believe in and act accordingly. It takes you two seconds to NOT open your mouth when Muslims and Jews talk about their headcanons of characters being religious - because what gives you the right? Why do you feel so comfortable to shut down religious people's headcanons of characters? "Oh, he can't be Jewish because he's English", English Jews exist. "Oh, he can't be Muslim because he's Scottish", Scottish Muslims exist. These people exist in real life, and you saying that a character CANNOT be a Muslim or a Jew because of where they come from is little more than antisemitism and Islamophobia. Do better.

The apathy

When I say "the apathy", I mean exactly that. It is exhausting having to call out these horrid things time and time again and then see people WILLINGLY ignoring blatant bigotry by brushing it off and saying "I don't want to get involved in drama", as if somebody being a bigot is akin to a quarrel between two friends, or a disagreement between two people. If you aren't willing to address genuine harm ONLINE, then I'm sorry, but I doubt you would do anything OFFLINE either. If you're boiling things that actually harm people down to "drama", then I'm sorry, but you can't expect to be considered a safe person for people to be open with and to be honest with when it comes to their mental health or to their triggers. It's that simple. Your apathy towards your fellow man is blatant, and I cannot in good conscience continue to rub shoulders with such people.

Going forward

I'm not going to be engaging with MOST of the content within the Call Of Duty fandom - whether that's edits, fanfic, fanart, etc. I'm not. I've got a few mutuals who I've decided I WILL continue reading from or looking at their art or whatever, but for the most part, I'm not going to be active within the Call Of Duty fandom. I will continue writing for SOME of the characters, but my list of who I write for will be drastically reduced to just a few select characters. If somebody asks me "hey, is X thing saneist?" then of course I'll answer. If somebody points out to me that I took a request from someone who follows a rape pornographer, then I will delete that request and that fanfic entirely. I will still be happy to talk about the characters & games, but it will only be WHEN ASKED, and I will continue to use my DNI (although I'm going to change it a little so that the rape porn viewers/readers know I don't want them near me).

Of course, if anyone requires further clarification on anything I said, I'll be happy to answer and explain as best as I can! And if anyone feels emboldened by this post to come forward and share their own experiences with such things, then I will happily read through that, too! This post is 100% okay to reblog, and if anyone wishes to reblog it and go "This is also why I left the fandom", then I will happily hear you out. What I will NOT hear out, however, is any justification or defence of any of the harmful behaviours I have mentioned - I do not wish to hear it. Pack it in, and take it to 4Chan where you belong.