🌼Morph, early 20's, she/her, 18+ MDNI🌼 Finally giving the whole writting thing a chance. Im just trying my best, honestly. It'll mainly be 2nd person pov, try to make it x reader but it might end up being OCs
I'm Morph, she/her and in my early twenties. I write mostly for the 141 but might delve into other characters at some point.
Asks box is open however updates might be irregular.
Stories will still be written in second person when referring to OC’s. In such cases, disclaimers and cw will be used in tags and headers of the posts. (Do let me know if i missed any).
Also, I'm quickly reminding everyone that this is an 18+ MDNI blog, because i' don’t want 'm not going to police my own content.
Likes, comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated :)
DO NOT FEED MY WORKS TO AI NOR CREATE BOTS, don't reupload. However, i don’t own any concept so AS LONG AS IS NOT AI feel free to make your version of anything and write and tag me while you’re at it!
Anyhow, here's my MASTERLIST
Or you can read them all in the order they were originally posted under the tag morph writes
oh yeah. god forbid johnny is a little curious after hearing your unyielding cries and moans through the wall last night. it’s not his fault he wants to know what all the fuss is about. it can’t be as great as you’re advertising.
and of course he’s rummaging through your drawers to find yours. no he isn’t buying his own when yours is just waiting for him, tucked beneath your nearly folded underwear. it’s already charged up and everything!
it doesn’t take him long to get hard, not when he’s surrounded by all of your things, your smell, your sheets, the underwear he dug through to find your toy. he’s sporting a stiffy in no time at all.
he starts as usual, stroking up and down, gripping harder at the base and thrusting his hips up into his palm. standard procedure.
when he’s nearly halfway there, that’s when he turns the toy on. studying the mechanics before positioning it directly above his tip.
he’s cumming instantly, and harder than he’s ever cum before. he bucks his hips involuntarily, rubbing his bare ass all over your nice, clean sheets.
he doesn’t have time to do anything about it, though, because you’ve just opened the front door, ready to unwind after a terrible day at work.
he does what he can to conceal the evidence, giving the toy a sloppy wipe against his shirt before running to greet you like nothing happened at all.
breathless and a bit red, he asks you about your day.
“you’re being weird, johnny...”
and god if the disgusted look you give him doesn’t make him hard all over again.
“….i’m going to my room.”
you pull your toy out of your drawer and immediately throw it back down. johnny’s cum glistens on the red silicone.
and maybe you smear the leftover cum all over your clit, and maybe you moan extra loud, just to make sure he can hear you.
18+ MDNI, Price's pov, non-descriptive and unnamed fem!OC for story purposes (IT’S NOT READER, THIS IS A GN PIECE AS ALWAYS, reader is only directly mentioned at the end). Descriptive PiV and bodily fluids talk, masturbation (m).
It had been a blur, the end of the concert followed by the van trip to the after-party, shots flying around the small space with a speed that had made everything seem blurry by the time they had made it to the club. He would've drank less usually, just a couple of them and then enjoyed the buzz for a while before getting a taxi back to his hotel room.
But tonight John couldn't do that, because it was the end of the tour's first leg and they had to go all out, because there was a second and third part waiting for them. Their fame was rising like bubbles in a full bath, tickets sold out in a matter of minutes every time they went up for sale. It's what they had been waiting for, what years of nonstop practice, composing and small gigs had led to. And it deserved to be celebrated.
So he let himself be dragged around by Kyle and Johnny, his hand never missing a drink, the free one always resting on a pretty thing's waist or shoulder. He joined the group in their teasing when Simon was the first to leave, much more carefree than usual when a bird insisted on taking him to the dance floor.
He didn't care to know how long the party had been going on for, nor how much of that time had been spent like this; at the back of the club with the pretty girl that had been following him around all night pressed between his body and the wall. One of his hands cupped under her jaw, thumb pressing at the hinge of her neck to tilt her head further back so he could push his tongue into her mouth.
It felt good, getting some action again, letting himself do and be done to, instead of thinking of the past all the time. An approving groan leaves his mouth and into the bird's when she cups him through his jeans, one of his legs adjusting to slot between her thighs, calloused hands guiding her hips down against the rough fabric.
His lips leave hers only to drag along her jaw, wet kisses and licks making a path to her ear, his voice gravely and caught when he manages to get his words out. "Should head back if you don't want me to fuck you in the alleyway, pretty."
Shit, for a second he's sure she's going to agree to it, given the glassy look in her eyes and the way she keeps on grinding against his thigh, starting to leave a wet patch on the fabric. But she manages to snap out of it, taking another greedy kiss from him before guiding him through the crowd and outside.
The drive goes by quickly, mouths and hands exploring enough of each other's bodies to have the driver clearing his throat and announcing the arrival.
There's no prep needed, her underwear is completely ruined and forgotten somewhere close to the suite's entrance, dress hastily tugged down and off before he's bent her over the foot of the bed.
John gets rid of his clothes just as quickly, groaning when he springs out of the sticky fabric, hard as a rock and flush red from restraining himself. She lets out a small quip, a little smart remark as she sways her hips from side to side, and it's all he needs to crowd close to her again.
One of his hands moves to the space between her shoulder blades, pushing her forward so her chest is flush against the expensive sheets. The free one moves to grip himself, first swiping a thumb over the weeping tip —feeling a shiver run down his spine at the very awaited pleasure— and then giving himself a couple jerks before he's lining himself up.
He takes his time then, sliding his cock back and forth to get as much of her slick on it, making sure that his tips nudges her puffy clit every time. It's until she starts begging, letting out slurred pleas that mix between moans and whines. He pushes in, all of his girth stretching her out in one single thrust.
"Shit, gonna chock me, so fucking tight." Both of his hands go to her hips now, barely giving her time to get used to the fullness before he's thrusting, fast and sharp, making wet plaps echo all around the room.
She's an absolute mess for him, hands holding onto the silk of the bed for dear life, back arching into the perfect curve while a creamy ring quickly forms around the base of his cock. Her loud moans and whimpers cover his own voice, the way he murmurs more to himself than he does her, the praise and… something else.
It's fine for a bit, he gets a couple spanks in, seeing how her cheeks ripple with each of them, how the tender flesh bounces with every snap of his hips. She's more than willing too, now fully showing the eagerness she had tried to subdue in the club, doing her best to push herself back and meet every thrust.
That is until he presses closer, making her legs give out and her body end up prone. His sweaty chest is flush to her back, his weight keeping her in place while his cock hits that gummy spot inside her again and again. And it could be perfect, if it weren't for the fact that his mouth is now right beside her ear, and every time he moans or groans a name, it isn't hers.
She tries to shrug it off, she really does. Eyes closed as she focuses on the drag of his hips, on how good he stretches her gummy walls and how easy he finds her g-spot, on how he keeps her down with his weight to make her take every inch.
But then he does it again, and then one more time.
Before she can try to convince herself any further she's reaching a hand back, pushing at his shoulder as she shifts from under him at the same time. "Stop, get off."
John does so as soon as the words leave her, eyes widening a bit as they scan over her body to make sure he hasn't been too rough. Unknowing to the fact that the damage hasn't been physical. "Everything okay, pretty girl?"
She ignores his question, instead sitting up to look at him with a frown. "What were you moaning?"
Fuck. Shit. This can't be. The one time John lets himself be, lose his inhibitions and go for something new and he fucks it up in this way.
He tries to hide the realisation the best he can, but the way her expression just hardens and she pulls a little further back proves that he has more of a career in music than he could ever have in acting. "Look i-"
She raises a hand to cut his excuses, "Don't want to know. Answer this instead, what's my name?"
If it had been bad then, it's horrible now. Because for the live of him he can’t remember. He knows she told him, when he leaned in the bar beside her, calling the bartender over to get the both of them a refill. But now he's blanking, seeing the moment but not being able to hear, as if the audio feed had been cut off.
A scoff leaves her then and she's off the bed, getting her dress off the floor and on her body before sliding her shoes on. "You're fucking unbelievable. I know you're a rockstar and all that bullshit, but seriously? Moaning you last hookup's name or whatever?"
"Do not say that. It wasn't a—" He cuts himself off then, because he was about to go off. To make it clear how you're not just a hook up, how you could never be just anything to anyone, much less to him.
Luckily for him, she has already found her underwear and left the room with a slam of the door.
Standing in the sudden quietness he groans, sliding his hands through his hair and resisting the temptation to pull it out to relieve some of frustration burning in him . Instead he sits back on the edge of the bed, eyes closed as he pictures what was happening just moments ago but with you instead.
He imagines he's back home, in your bed and in your arms. That it's your voice the one moaning and murmuring praises and filling his ears, that is you the one begging for him to make you cum and fill you up. His fist is closed around his cock, slick with a mix of precum and his own saliva, while he thrusts up into it imagining it's you wrapped around him instead.
It's absolutely pathetic, the fact that what makes him cum— balls tightening up for the last couple of thrusts before he's spilling over his own fist, milky white now covering his hand, abs and a bit of his thighs— it's the thought of you murmuring «i love you» against his ear.
He gives himself a few extra tugs before laying back, stating blankly at the ceiling while he waits for his heart rate to go back down and for his legs to stop trembling.
Barely bothered to wipe himself with his discarded shirt, he reaches for his phone. By now it seems like the night for bad decisions, so before he can change his mind he's hitting the call button and holding the phone to his ear.
"Hey, i uhm… i didn't expect you to pick up—" He sniffles for a moment, almost like that would make the words come out easier. "Don't think i expect you to listen to this, either. But i just wanted, you know, to reach out. Things are… they're not good between us, are they? Don't think they'll ever be." Another pause, this time to clear his throat. Although it sounds just as strained and raspy when he continues. "But still, you deserve to be celebrated, even if it shouldn't come from me. So yeah, i just- Happy birthday, love. Hope you have the best day."
He pulls the phone away from his ear, staring at the screen for a second before making sure the voicemail sends. He stares at it for a little longer, more specifically at your picture in his contacts. Big smile and crinkled eyes that he hadn't gotten to see in so long. After that he runs a hand over his face, letting the device fall somewhere between the sheets when he pulls himself up and to the shower. Feeling like he needs to wash off all of the night's fuck ups.
Likes, comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated. Askbox is open. Do not copy, repost, plagiarize, translate or feed any of my work into ai.
hey everyone, someone pointed out in the comments that who the reader was in this fic feels a bit confusing so i just wanted to clarify:
The fem!OC that uses she/her is there FOR STORYLINE PURPOSES ONLY, it’s not meant to be the reader insert. Reader is there to hunt the narrative during at least 90% of the fic. Only once the narration starts to contain “you” is it meant as Price thinking about reader.
Apologise if i didn’t make it obvious enough or i slipped somewhere, sometimes it’s hard to know if other people get the unsaid part as easily because yk the whole story is made up in my mind so i clearly know it lol
i hate the "we should only have queer actors playing queer characters" argument for several reasons. but what annoys me the most is that people who argue this straight up don't realize that it's illegal to ask someone about their sexuality in relation to a job interview. like an audition. i don't think breaking anti-discrimination laws to screen people's sexualities to determine their employment is the woke take you think it is.
and just. setting that aside. if you're saying "we should only have queer actors playing queer characters" you're saying that queer people must be publicly out to play a queer character. even if that actor and that character have the same sexuality. that actor has to disclose that to the whole world. again. i don't think demanding queer people to out themselves in order to engage with a queer acting role is doing anyone any good.
head in hands. it's acting. it's playing make believe. i don't care if the actress playing a lesbian character has kissed a woman before. i care if she's good at pretending she has.
gaz - never re-racks his weights and takes 10 min breaks between sets but never gives up his machine to other gym goers waiting for a turn
soap - grunts and moans while lifting and squatting; takes the treadmill right beside you when there are like 20 available
ghost - leaves an absolute puddle of sweat on the machine after using it and doesn't wipe down; offers unsolicited and bad advice on whatever exercise you're doing and how you can improve (always leads to injury)
price - shaves in the locker room sink and leaves the hair behind; thinks he's doing everyone a favour by smoking outside, but he does it right beside the door so all the smoke just goes inside whenever it opens
Unpopular opinion but if you don't enjoy the process you should find a different thing to do.
And I think this is true in general but now I'm talking about it in the context of AI.
If you don't enjoy making art and only care about the end piece and how it'll look and how much traction it"lol get online then making art is not something for you, find something you enjoy from start to finish.
Same goes for writing: if you do not enjoy writing and rewriting and then some more and instead want AI to write for you, being a writer is not something you should pursue.
Sure, not every part of creative process is going to be equally enjoyable but you should get satisfaction from solving the problems along the way and you should get a sense of accomplishment on your way of "making the piece yours" and you should have a sense of ownership once you are done.
None of these things will come from typing in a prompt into chatGPT. And I am sad to see so many people are missing on the opportunity to experience the joy of making something with their own hands and brains.
#this is so true#i know writers like to joke about hating writing#but like if you're serious?#if you actually hate the process of writing?#why is this what you've chosen to pursue#just do something else
it is funny that no one can accept that maybe Ghost is going after Price because Price betrayed the British military. Not a shot in hell that man cares about that kind of thing. He’s just mad that no one invited him to do rogue PMC stuff :( he’s like the kid at school that wasn’t invited to the popular kid’s birthday party
A reminder to use another search engine than Google as they are replacing their search engine with Gemini tomorrow (May 26th, 2026). This means Google will no longer provide search results; it will only provide whatever Gemini feels like sharing at the time. This is censorship 101--Google will have total control over the information you see. Use search engines like Duck Duck Go, Brave, Metacrawler, or Qwant.
all i want for 2026 is that gigantic rancid AI bubble to finally burst in such a catastrophic way that the consequences will be so good and i'll never have to see another AI generated image ever again
Welcome to the mess @imshymorph - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
