#CANDY-WRITING

[cantdanceflynn]

my secret santa gift for @vinniedakotaismyspiritanimal! Sorry if its not great, I don't write heinz that often but I have it on good authority that its. Good. So I hope u like it:>

Perry took a deep breath, adjusting his hat to make sure he hadn't forgotten it. He usually spent all of Christmas Eve and Christmas itself with his family, only leaving if he really had to put up with one of Heinz's evil plans.

But, over the last year, the summer and holidays especially, he'd come to view the Doofenshmirtzes as family as well. Not literally his host family, Christmas Day would still be reserved for cuddling with his kids and cozying up by the fireplace with his parents. But for now, his kids were sleeping and his parents were probably finishing wrapping another round of gifts. So he had figured no one would miss him too much if he checked in on his other family.

Carefully, quietly, he rapped his knuckles against the door. A strange level of uncertainty, the kind he rarely felt with this part of his life, was squirming inside his mind.

Big, thumping footsteps gave Norm away before he even opened the door. Perry could hear Heinz from the open doorway, a half audible admonition towards Norm. Relatively unphased, Perry waved at Norm and walked on in. Norm waved back silently as he closed the door, the hinges rattling in place. Perry could hear another complaint from Heinz as he padded, or rather plapped, his way into the apartment's sort of living room.

"-And you better not have broken that door again! Hello, hi, no more carolers today, please, I've had quite enough of tho- oh!"

Perry waved awkwardly to him as well, teeth grinding into a chatter he knew Heinz wouldn't understand. Heinz waved back, tilting his head in confusion.

"Perry the Platypus? We had our weird truce thing, remember? I haven't made any inators or anything, and you don't need to break my stuff. You can... You can go, right?"

Perry glanced around the room, at the presents needing wrapping and the half busted tree and the odd Christmas decoration lazily plastered over the usual decor. He threw his thumb over his shoulder, pointing at them with a chatter that probably came off as more passive aggressive than he hoped for.

"Yes, I know that I have a lot that needs to be done! And I'm just sitting around, trying to figure out the right step to start, because if I don't then I can't start on anything else without knowing there's more to do and, well, you know what it's like! Or maybe you don't. I don't know, do platypi have mental illnesses?"

Perry had no actual response to that. Instead he raised an eyebrow and pointed at the unwrapped presents.

Heinz fiddled with his hands, clearly looking for something idle to occupy his body with. "The wrapping paper is still in the closet. Charlene is actually coming over with Vanessa this time, because she's, Vanessa, she's bringing her partners for once, and she wants it to feel like a full family celebration so I'm trying to go all out with the decorations and presents but I've never actually, you know, celebrated, before."

Perry knew perfectly well. He would not be attending that specific gathering for a number of reasons, not least of which was that there were about five aspects of his life that could not intersect present. But this, he could help with.

Owca agents were, inexplicably enough, meant to keep track of every holiday on the calender, and how to best celebrate it or stay out of the way, whenever possible. It was meant, apparently, to help them keep track of their family's schedule to avoid any potential holiday related host family mishaps. While Perry was sure it helped agents like Pinky quite a lot, for better or for worse, Christmas and sometimes Thanksgiving were the only holidays most agents actually tracked. Perry, of course, had a minimum of nine lovable kids who would be celebrating speak like a pirate day wherever they thought appropriate that morning, but it still helped.

Wasting no further time, he marched over to the closet. He could hear Heinz groaning as he stood up, although he didn't know if it was from tiredness or what Lawrence would affectionately call "your old man's back".

"Perry the Platypus, I'll have you know I can handle this all myself! And, well, I suppose Norm is "helping", with heavy, heavy air quotes! Do you see these, do you see how heavy they are? I mean, my arms are metal, so I guess they're guaranteed to be heavy, but I mean metaphorically, obviously."

Perry just rolled his eyes. The man could object all he wanted, but if Perry knew Heinz at all, he'd appreciate the head start if nothing else.

Not an hour later, Heinz was happily humming some version of the kinderlumper song he'd so... kindly relayed to Perry before as the two of them wrapped presents and put up admittedly astounding decorations. Perry didn't even know how you found an ornament of a reindeer mermaid, but he made a mental note to ask Carl about Heinz's shopping history so he could check.

The doorbell rang, an actual ringing this time, and Norm's thudding probably woke up everyone any floor below. Perry chuckled, the idea of how much the downstairs neighbors must hate Heinz occuring to him for the first time ever.

"Hey, Norm. Where's Dad?" Vanessa's voice was oddly warm, although if it was from festivities or just excited for tomorrow, it was hard to say.

Heinz was up before Perry even had a chance to react though, moving into the entrance and leaving Perry to finish up the last of the decorations. He could hear Heinz greeting her with surprise, but tuned most of it out. He was tired, and maybe it was careless, but he liked basking in the lights and humming to himself just a bit. It felt nice, to be able to do like this with people he cared about this time.

"Oh, hey... Perry?" Vanessa's voice came from behind, and he turned to greet her with another wave. "I'm just here early to spend some time with Dad and Norm without, like, fifty people around, if OWCA needs to know. Nice to get to see you though."

He nodded slightly, eyes flitting to the clock. He would have to leave soon, both for his parents not worrying about him and because he made sure to spend every Christmas Eve night cuddled up in his boys' arms.

Heinz seemed to actually catch this small cue, clapping his hands. "You know.... Since we're all here, how about we get to peek at one present each. That's a thing people do on Christmas Eve!"

Perry shot the man a dirty look. They just wrapped them, for crying out loud.

"Alright, alright, fine. No peeking, but you at least better come over tomorrow for your present," Heinz huffed. "It's a little more specific this year, don't worry."

Perry blinked. An actual present? For him?

Heinz put his hands on his hips. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Perry the Platypus! I can figure out more about you without breaking protocol, it just... Takes a while."

Vanessa scoffed, leaning down to Perry's level and ruffling his fur. She was particularly lucky she counted as one of his kids, because there was no way anyone else could get away with that outside of him pretending to be a pet.

"How about Perry takes his present home, Dad? That way he can still open it in time, and he doesn't have to come over on Christmas Day for it." She gave Perry a less than discreet wink, but one Heinz clearly didn't notice.

"Oh, that's it! Take it, take it! I insist! But you better tell me if you like it after Christmas!" A small box was quickly shoved into Perry's hands, properly wrapped this time. If he didn't know better, his eyes might've watered a bit.

He set down the present and, slowly, he wrapped his arms around Vanessa's leg in some approximation of a hug. Snorting, she ruffled his fur again. She was definitely lucky to be one of his kids.

Heinz scoffed, clearly about to remark on something when Perry moved over to hugging his leg too. The two of them just stood there for a bit, a silence that could be awkward or comfortable, and Perry didn't think anyone knew which. He peeled away once it definitely got uncomfortable, but Heinz was smiling down at him in a way that almost made him wish he kept it up.

"Do I not get a hug?" Norm's robotic voice broke the silence, causing Heinz to roll his eyes. Perry did the same, but moved over to attempting to hug the robot's leg. It was, admittedly, a bit too wide for his arms, but he figured the feeling probably got across to Norm.

"Thank you." For a typically neutral robot, Norm's voice sounded oddly self satisfied. Chuckling slightly, Perry picked his present back up and set up his paraglider. He typically didn't look back when he left the building's balcony, both because of wind resistance and because it just wasn't how it was, well, done. But this time, he made the effort to swivel his head just enough to see them waving goodbye.

Vanessa did head inside before he'd fully left view, but it was cold enough he couldn't really blame her. And he'd hear plenty about her later tomorrow anyways, so he just turned back around and steered himself in the direction of home. A path he'd taken hundreds of times, but always felt warm.

Back to pretending to be a mindless pet, he pushed the small box under the tree with his beak. He'd probably have to hide the gift after it was opened if he didn't want Candace to steal it or Linda to put it on top of the fridge(arguably his worst enemy), but for now? It was enough to just have parts of both his families close for Christmas.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

you’re kidding me, right?? 😭

***Please note:*** Sharing merch images + news is not intended to encourage and/or to pressure anyone into making purchases. It is up to the individual consumer to be informed and to choose how they spend their money.

BEHOLD THE LATEST TWST MERCH… a toy truck?????? They made merch of the isekai truck?!?!?!!!!/j 💀

IS IT JUST ME OR???? It looks like the dorm leaders and Grim are tacked up missing people posters… or wanted posters…

[featheredcrowbones]

the cast of OM after my MC makes them gayer except for the kids whose only worries are crayons and cookie dough

[abstractfrog]

Happy 1 year anniversary to Mr Sherlock Holmes! Here's a litttleee celebratory comic from me

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Chronic Sonic pt 12

POV ur bestie comes back from like three to five years abroad

1. After that delightful experience in pt 10, Sonic is a lot less quick to drop his inhibitors or actively seek out the emeralds. Since the only thing he really used to do in his free time was run around adventuring and doing battle and he can’t do that like he used to with his inhibitors preventing him from reaching his full speed (Tails is working on it) so there’s not much else for him to do. Sure he could do the routine Tails drew up for him, but doing little exercises feels pretty pointless in the face of everything. (Even if they really do help when done consistently.)

2. Amy’s back! What was she doing? I dunno, spreading joy and love and enhappifying the world, your guess is as good as mine. Tails actually called her to come visit. Sonic hasn’t seen her for a while and she’s the one person that wasn’t around while this whole spiral happened (so he doesn’t subconsciously associate her with any of it.) They’ve kept her mostly up to speed via texting and some occasional short video calls. (Oh and Sonic and Amy are platonic here. Cotton-Candy Duo. Besties!)

3. Shadow helps Tails out in his workshop sometimes.

[ckret2]

Chapter 95 of human Bill Cipher being not quite the Mystery Shack's prisoner anymore but sorta staying there anyway: the girls (plus Bill) have a sleepover, and the guys (plus Melody) have anime.

(‼️SUPER IMPORTANT PSA:‼️ it's dangerous to read alone. Take this.)

####

"Get out of the living room," Grenda shouted, charging in and chucking a duffel bag at an unoccupied chair. "We're having a sleepover movie marathon!"

"We are commandeering the TV." Candy plopped down in front of the TV and rummaging through her bag for some rental videos.

Dipper quickly escaped to join Ford and Soos in the entryway. "Great."

Soos said, "Wanna come with us to anime night? It'll keep you out of the girls' way."

"Thanks, Soos, but it's fine. As long as they aren't in the attic, maybe I can get some sleep."

"We won't bother you!" Mabel said. "We're staying in the living room! We're gonna stay up late and talk about boys and watch movies until we pass out!"

"Seriously?" Ford looked at Bill, leaning in the living room doorway. "Seriously? This is how you're spending your night?"

"Yes," Bill said. 

"Voluntarily?"

"This is the best socialization I've had since I d—got here. I'll take what I can get." He gestured at the girls; Candy and Grenda had taken a couple of video tapes out of their cases, and immediately started manipulating the cases like animal jaws to try to bite each other, complete with dinosaur noises. "Besides, kids are little chaos engines before they grow up and learn to be normal! I like 'em!"

The weirdest part was that Ford actually thought Bill was telling the truth. (And, in spite of his paranoia going what if, what if— all the evidence did suggest that Bill wanted to protect them.)

"Now get outta here," Bill said, "you're bringing down the mood."

"In a minute." Ford raised his voice. "Girls? I didn't get a chance to say this last time, but I have a few ground rules for tonight's sleepover."

The girls groaned. Warily, Mabel asked, "What is it?"

"No more demon summonings; no seances; no Bloody Mary or any similar games; I never want to see a spirit board under this roof; don't invite anything vampiric inside; and if you're visited by anything fae, call me."

"I think we can handle that."

Bill said, "Got it. Play with the Oui-Oui Spirit Board in the parking lot."

"No!"

He just grinned at Ford.

"You ready, Dr. Pines?" Soos asked. "We're gonna be late if we don't go."

Ford gave Bill one last warning look, and then followed Soos out.

As soon as the door was shut, Grenda loud-whispered, "Hey! We should totally play Bloody Mary!"

"Yes!" Candy cheered.

Bill yelped, "No!"

The girls stared at him. He swallowed hard.

"Why not?" Mabel asked.

Grenda added, "Yeah! You scared, Gold-o?"

"Of course not," he said testily.

"You're not Gold-o, you're Yell-o! As in yellow-bellied!"

"That's not the insult you think it is," Bill said. "And I'm not scared, I just think it sounds boring! Bloody Mary probably won't show up. And, if she does? I bet she isn't any fun! i don't even want to see her! I don't care! All right?"

The girls nodded, and each independently decided they were totally dragging him into playing Bloody Mary.

####

When Fiddleford answered the door, the first thing Ford said was, "You got new glasses?"

"Heh, yep!" Fiddleford proudly adjusted his glasses. Ford suspected it was the first new pair he'd gotten in thirty years. "Since my last pair got pulverized, I reckoned it was high time I stop trying to use some old hand-me-downs I found at the museum and get me a proper prescription pair!

Trying to suppress a grin, Ford said, "Is it just me, or do they look a little like..."

"You hush," Fiddleford said. "I know they look like your old ones. I'm an old man now! I can't get away with those little round readin' glasses anymore!"

Soos and Melody inspected Fiddleford's new glasses as they came in. Melody nodded approvingly, "They suit you."

Soos laughed, "Oh, dude! You two are like glasses twins now."

Ford frowned in faux consideration. "Do I need another twin my life...?"

"Might as well," Fiddleford shrugged. "We're already a couple'a Fords."

"That's true."

Fiddleford gestured to Soos and Melody, "You two run along and get comfortable! I need to have a talk with Stanford in private."

####

While the girls had dispersed to put on pajamas and/or retrieve snacks, Bill headed to the bathroom; but he stopped outside the door when he heard giggles and whispers inside. "Is this room occupied?"

Mabel pushed open the door and all three girls grinned at him. "Yeah, but you can help out!"

"Sure, as long as it doesn't involve any of the things people usually do in bathrooms." He leaned curiously into the room. "What are we doing?"

"Playing Bloody Mary."

Bill immediately tried to leave. "Nope."

"Come on, Goldie, don't be lame!"

"I'm not lame. You're lame," he said testily. "And I don't hang out with lame people! I'll be down in the living room, just scream if anyone starts dying." He attempted to back through the bathroom doorway.

Candy's steely grip wrapped around one arm. "You have to stay. You have no choice."

Grenda gripped his other arm. "Yeah! You're our adult supervision or something!"

Bill twisted around and grabbed at the door frame as half a dozen hands pulled at his arms and clothing. "No no no no no—!" He desperately clawed at the wall for purchase.

The door swung shut, smacking his fingers. He lost his grip and was dragged into the bathroom, screaming.

The door gently swayed shut.

####

Half of Fiddleford's lab was still in disarray from their brief contact with the Nightmare Realm a week ago; but one corner of his lab table was stacked with neat, tidy piles of papers covered in Fiddleford's neat, tidy calculations. Fiddleford led Ford over to those papers. "It's bad news."

Ford was afraid of that. "Does it have to do with Bill?"

Fiddleford gave him an unamused look—as if to say, is it ever anything else?

Ford sighed. "All right. Give me the news."

"I ran some figures using that equation you have to calculate the strength of the barrier a-draggin' weird things into town."

"Yes?"

Last year, Ford had passed all his research on the Theory of Weirdness, barrier equation included, to Fiddleford—mainly to show him that, at last, there was a tangible gain from their tragic youthful collaboration.

Fiddleford had offered to help Ford turn it into a publication-ready paper, Purely in a ghostwriting capacity—it would be Ford's name on the paper.

Ford had turned down the same offer thirty years ago, and he turned it down now. He didn't want to publish a paper with his name and Fiddleford's writing.

Instead, he wanted both their names at the top.

Fiddleford had bashfully accepted.

They'd hoped to spend this summer finalizing the paper; but, well, other things had come up.

Fiddleford flipped through his calculations as he went on, "Usually, we can just walk in and out of that barrier because its strength is proportionate to the weirdness in town. And the whole town's combined weirdness is strong enough to draw more things toward town, but not strong enough to trap 'em in town."

"Right," Ford said uneasily. He wasn't sure where this conversation was going, but he sensed bad news.

Fiddleford dropped the stack of papers in front of Ford and held out one page. "Well—I finally worked out exactly how much weirdness is needed to make that barrier solid. And for it to be completely impenetrable, whatever's trying to pass through it has to be more powerfully weird and weirdly powerful than anything found on Earth," he said. "Didn't you tell me a few days ago that Bill still can't get through the barrier?"

A chill ran up Ford's spine. "I... that's right." They'd found that out his first night in town, when they'd nearly driven him straight into the barrier before he screamed at them to stop.

Fiddleford began pacing. "If that devil could get through the barrier, it wouldn't necessarily prove anything. It might mean he's a human; it might mean he's still a... whatever he is—"

"Triangle."

"—still a demon triangle, but lost enough of his power to be 'normal enough' to get through; or, it might mean Bill himself weren't never weird enough on his lonesome to make that barrier solid without that rift open lettin' more weirdness pour in," Fiddleford said. "But since he can't get through the barrier... the only explanation is that all that power is still there, inside of him. And that means we know what shape his soul is."

Part of Ford wished they didn't. "It's still a triangle."

"And, he's just as dangerous as he ever was," Fiddleford said. "You know what we have to do."

"Yes." Ford took a deep breath. "We have to keep him alive at any cost so his soul can't escape."

"We have t—what?!" Fiddleford goggled at him. "Well, I was fixin' to say we have to destroy him and his soul right now, now we know he's a threat, but fine!" He flung his hands in the air. "Fine! He's not my prisoner! If you want to play around with the end of the world..."

Guilt twisted in Ford's stomach. "Fiddleford, I..." How could he apologize for something he planned to keep doing? (How could he tell him that Bill was much less of a prisoner now than he'd been a few hours ago?)

"Keep him alive! Of all the cockamamie..." Fiddleford's shoulders slumped in defeat. He sighed. "You really think you're doing the right thing?"

"I've asked myself that hundreds of times the past few days," Ford said wryly. "I think I think I'm doing the right thing."

"Well. If you were sure, I'd be worried."

Ford laughed dryly. "I'm not sure about anything. But I..." He rubbed his face. God, he was still so tired. "I know Bill could change. I—want—to think that he will."

Fiddleford took that in thoughtfully. "Why?"

Ford looked up at him. "Hm?"

"Why do you want him to change? Wouldn't you rather just... scootch him right on out of your life for good? He's not making you fancy promises again, is he?"

"Believe me, I wouldn't trust him if he did. I think he's finally given up on that, thank goodness."

"Then why do you want that demon alive?"

He could see Bill teaching Mabel about alien genetics and spherical geometry, Bill letting a couple contented kids sit on him after declaring them under his protection, Bill making up the most fascinating new chess rules but too exhausted to do anything with them. Bill teaching Ford about how to reach unseen stars. Bill comforting Ford when he was lonely.

The question was almost too easy to answer—and that made Ford second guess himself. But he said, "Because he's not a demon. He's just a person who's gotten too good at acting like one. But when he does act like a person... Well. He has—a lot to offer. Losing it would be a shame."

Fiddleford frowned hard as he listened, squinting at Ford. He took a moment to respond—rocking back on his heels, breaking eye contact with Ford as he took off his new glasses, carefully cleaning the lenses before he put them back on. To Ford's horrified fascination, Fiddleford cleaned his glasses with his beard.

Finally, he said, "I still don't remember... meetin' him. Not clearly, anyhow." (Ford's brows went up in surprise. This was the first time he'd ever heard Fiddleford acknowledge out loud that he had met him. They rarely mentioned the portal test at all—they certainly didn't discuss what Fiddleford had experienced.) "But—I recall how it felt. And 'demonic' is too sweet a word for the thing that I saw."

Ford nodded. He didn't know whether he'd seen the same sight, but he had seen Bill in his decaying kingdom, shrieking laughter echoing throughout the Nightmare Realm as though the whole dimension were an extension of his voice, surrounded by his monstrous minions as he lounged on his throne of illusions. (His chair custom-upholstered with the fabric of reality, with the autostereogram detailing that Bill couldn't even see.)

"But," Fiddleford said grudgingly, "he weren't never in my dreams. I reckon you might could've... seen some side of him I didn't."

"Or, he might have fooled me into seeing something that isn't there."

Fiddleford half-shrugged, half nodded. "Well, what do I know about what a 'person' is. These days there's aliens and clones and parallel people I don't know from Adam. If you say he's just a person... maybe he is. You want to try to reform him, then?"

Ford let out a disgusted laugh. "No," he said. "I want to see if he can reform himself."

####

"There!" Mabel slammed the door latch shut. "Now you're not going anywhere until we're done."

Bill swallowed nervously, already feeling the walls closing in on him. "You're exploiting my disability, and that's terrible of you."

Mabel blew a raspberry. "You'll live."

"Unless you don't," Grenda said ominously, wiggling her fingers spookily. "Ooo-oooh!"

He rolled his eye. "I am not worried about dying. In fact, I don't think anything'll happen. I bet she's not even real—and if she is, I heard that she doesn't show up if someone who doesn't believe in her is playing, so nothing'll happen if I'm here! You'd have better odds if you let me leave!"

"If nothing happens, then you've got nothing to be scared of," Candy said patiently.

"I'm not sc—UGH!" Bill yanked his hood over his face. "Fine, whatever! I don't care!" He edged toward the corner of the room, hunched his shoulders, and crossed his arms. 

"Okay," Mabel said, setting an unlit peaches and cream scented candle on the bathroom counter. She flipped off the light switch and held up her phone for light. "So what we have to do is turn off the lights completely, light a candle, and then say 'Bloody Mary' three times. And then a lady will show up in the mirror covered in blood and scream or tell us our future or try to strangle us or something."

Silently, Bill counted, one.

Mabel put a tub of baby wipes and a brush on the counter. "And that's when we offer her this and see if cleaning off that blood calms her down."

"That's not how it works," Candy said. "You're supposed to have all the lights off so it's completely dark. There's no candles."

Mabel pursed her lips doubtfully.

Grenda said, "But if it's totally dark, how can we see when Bloody Mary shows up?"

Two, Bill mouthed.

Candy paused. "Maybe that's why she screams. So we know she's here."

"And then what? Do we turn the light on?"

"Um... I don't think so..." Candy turned toward Bill, their resident expert in summoning what ought not be summoned.

He flipped a hand dismissively. "This is your project, not mine."

Mabel shot him a dirty look, but said, "Okay! This is what we're gonna do. We'll turn off all the lights, say her name three times, and then light the candle to see if she's here."

Candy and Grenda nodded.

"And if she's not, then we'll just say 'Bloody Mary' again with the candle lit," Mabel said.

Three. Bill pulled his hood lower and turned toward the window, feigning disinterest.

"Either way, that should get her to show u—"

A ghoulish blood-dripping face shrieked from the mirror.

The girls shrieked back, backing away from the mirror. Their backs hit the locked door. 

The mirror's glass rippled as Bloody Mary crawled through it, her eyeless sockets fixed on the girls, her lank black hair drifting weightlessly around her face, a breathy wailing sound whistling through her fleshless nasal cavity with each exhale. Her thin, papery lips curled back to reveal teeth elongated by receding gums. Blood drooled out from the gaps between her teeth to drip on her ruined chest, exposed muscles and ribs visible beneath the rotting remains of a lacy sleeveless black gown. One hand curled over the lip of the counter and the other stretched for Mabel's throat as she lurched closer to the girls.

And then in her periphery view she caught sight of a bright yellow triangular silhouette, her grip slipped, and her jaw smacked the counter's edge. She pushed herself back up and shrieked, "REHPIC LLIB?!"

Bill flinched, but pushed up his hood just enough to give her a sheepish, apologetic smile. "Yyyraaam, yeeeh."

"Laer rof uoy era? Ti eveileb t'nod I!" Outraged, she sat back on her knees and crossed her bony arms. "Em ot teg ot nerdlihc namuh gnisu er'uoy won tub, gniht eno saw Pilf morf rebmun wen ym teg ot gniyrt?!"

"Ekil skool ti tahw ton s'ti!" Bill said quickly. "Raews I! Ni em deggard yeht tub ti htiw od ot gnihtyna tnaw t'ndid I, gniyalp no detsisni sdik eht—"

Mary let out a shrill, disgusted laugh. "Erus m'I, ho! Rood eht tuo gniklaw dna meht gnillik morf uoy gnippots saw tahw dna?"

The girl's heads turned back and forth in wide-eyed bafflement as the incomprehensible conversation bounced back and forth.

Bill hesitated, grimacing. "Yrots gnol a s'ti—ti, kool, yako—"

"Elbaveilebnu. Elbaveileb! Nu!"

Bill gestured at Mabel. "Yako, tcap a tog ev'ew?!" He held up his wrist, pointing at his friendship bracelet. "Semitemos sevil s'rehto hcae evas ew, no gniog laed naidraug laicifeneb yllautum siht tog ev'I. Suoires m'I!"

Mabel looked down at her own bracelet collection and gave Candy and Grenda a baffled look. They shrugged, just as lost.

Mary took one look at the nazar eye beads and flinched back, hissing. "Yawa gniht taht tup, hgu," she snapped. "Yawyna, ereh gniod uoy era tahw?! Gnoleb uoy erehw nib yenool a ni pu uoy dekcol yllanif yeht draeh I."

Bill winced, hurt. "Wh— Yeh. Kniht uoy t'nod, evitisnesni elttil, Yram, sekiy?

"Evitisnesni!?" She laughed scornfully. "Ytrap yadhtrib s'retsis ym retfa, evitisnesni tuoba em ot klat ot tnaw uoy—?!"

Bill groaned, "Uoy era, og taht tel ot gniog reven era uoy, hgu?"

"Llib, sgniw retaw dezis-dlihc? Sgniw retaw?!"

"Romuh fo esnes on sah ehs tluaf ym ton s'ti! Ynnuf saw ti thguoht Anoroll tub ydobyreve! Dehgual Etreum neve!"

"Hgual ton did Etreum."

"Dennirg ehs—llew."

"Llib, lluks a s'ehs."

"Well—I mean—yeah, but..." He petered out. And then attempted, somewhat pathetically, "Thginot ecin gnikool er'uoy denoitnem I evah? Doolb hserf taht si?"

Mary made a grunt of disgust, waved Bill off, retreated into the mirror, and disappeared.

An awkward silence descended over the room.

Mabel flipped on the light. "Whaaat was that?"

Bill swallowed hard. "My ex?" 

The girls silently reevaluated their assumptions about Bill, his cowardice, his tastes, and Bloody Mary.

Wistfully, he added, "And she was wearing that dress that shows off her lungs."

####

In the middle of a smoky city battlefield, two combat mechs as tall as skyscrapers stood facing each other. Each one had an enormous pleated miniskirt, a heart-shaped glow in the center of its chest, and hair that seemed to be made from colored ribbons of light: the pink mech with two long, thin pigtails that would have reached the ground if they didn't float weightlessly around the machine; the blue mech with a bobcut that obscured one of its artificial eyes with a glowing curtain.

Above the dirty and damaged mechs floated a pristine white robot with hologram feather wings and an electric halo; and below them lay a crumpled orange mech, its orange corkscrew curls dimming and then deactivating, its heart cracked and black.

The blue pilot screamed, her voice distorted by the mech's speakers. "MOMOKO-CHAAAN! YOU KILLED HER!" She grabbed the pink mech's shoulders. "I warned you! I warned you that you're getting out of control! When you and Orenjiko-chan fought before the battle, I told you that you were taking it too far—and now you've killed her!"

"I-I didn't mean to!" The pink mech grabbed the blue one's wrists, threatening to crush them. "I couldn't control myself!" Momoko's voice was strained; inside her cockpit, her face was contorted not with grief but with rage, turning bright red, a vein bulging on her forehead. She squeezed the mech's controls as tightly as the mech grabbed her teammate's wrists, trying to control her rage. "Aoko-chan, stop shouting at me—BEFORE I KILL YOU TOO." She shoved the blue mech back hard enough to fling it into a building several blocks away.

Aoko got back to her feet with a groan; then gasped—"Wait!"—and turned toward the white robot above. "Why isn't the angel attacking?" The pink mech's head jerked too fast, like a raptor focusing on its prey, as it turned to stare at the floating robot as well.

"Guys," Soos loudly whispered, "this is the best part."

Momoko and Aoko both gasped and backed away as the orange mech at their feet shuddered. More scared than hopeful, Aoko said, "Orenji-chan...?"

The orange mech lurched to its feet. Its cracked heart shattered, glass raining to the street below, and the mech caught fire from the heart out, burning away its dirt and damage, its paint, and its pleated skirt, leaving the mech a pure, pristine white.

Aoko gasped in horror. "Is she...?! No! No!"

The mech's hologram projectors reactivated. Instead of forming orange curls, they projected a pair of wings; electricity arced through and out of the cockpit in its head, coils of lightning crackling and writhing until they resolved into the shape of a halo. It rose into the air; and the other angel nodded to it solemnly.

Momoko shouted, "Does this mean...?!"

"Yes!" At its desk back in headquarters, low light glinting menacingly off the bunny's sunglasses, Director Bunbun declared, "We are the angels!"

"NOOO!" The girls wailed in unison, Aoko dropping to her knees in despair, Momoko raising her fists to the sky.

"That's crazy, right?" Soos said. "It's like, pchooow," he pressed his hands to his head and lifted them off slowly, fingers expanding, "brain totally exploded, dude."

"Oh, Momoko-chan!" Sobbing, Aoko asked, "What do we do?"

In her cockpit, Momoko wasn't trembling anymore. Her hands gripped the controls tightly and confidently. She looked twice as furious, but her gaze was steely and focused. "I guess we'll just have to KILL HER TWICE!" With a roar, she charged into battle.

The screen went black. The words Neon Crisis Revelations Angry Cute Girl: Annihilation! Episode 37: Fukuin: This is the Angels' Gospel! filled the screen.

As the credits played, Fiddleford leaned toward Ford and said, "Something's on your mind, Stanford."

"Oh," Ford said. "It's—nothing. I'm just worrying about the Bill issue. As usual."

Fiddleford said pointedly, "Something's on your mind, and you keep lookin' at me."

Ford winced at himself. "Ah. Well. It's nothing important." But Fiddleford kept staring; and Ford finally said, eyes fixed on the credits, "I visited the museum. And I... saw the Blind Eye society's collection of memories."

Now it was Fiddleford's turn to wince and look away. "Oh. The Hall of the Forgotten."

Ford nodded. "That's what—I was told it was called." (They were both aware of how carefully he'd sidestepped around saying who had told him what it was called.)

"Mm." Fiddleford let the conversation drop. If he'd just explored the ruins of his old friend's memory-wiping brainwashing cult, he'd probably give him a few odd looks, too.

(In retrospect, could Fiddleford really judge Stanford for giving that demon a second chance? He'd given Fiddleford one, too—and sometimes Fiddleford didn't feel like he was that much better.)

######

(Because chapter 60 came out last July and people have forgotten things since then, I know some of y'all are gonna go "whoa did Fiddleford just confirm that Bill's still a triangle?!" So let me remind y'all:

Fidds said that Bill is definitely still a hyper-weird triangle if he can't cross the barrier, but if he CAN cross the barrier it means his soul could be triangular OR human, he's just a little less weird than he was during Weirdmageddon. And we know that Ford and Fidds are mistaken because Bill did cross the barrier in ch 60.

TBOB! If I said "no yeah i totally wrote the bloody mary scene before tbob" y'all would think i'm psychic or lying. But no, tbob inspired the idea. The rest of the chapter is free of TBOB influence, though I can't think of anything y'all might think was inspired by TBOB except maybe mentioning spirit boards and Bill saying that kids are cool until they grow up.

Anyway looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts on this chapter!

I CANNOT overemphasize just how much I love writing the scenes from Soos's anime.)

[loganspet]

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓’𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘.

𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 ♡ ૮ › ‹ ྀིა

. . . ─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ─── 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

. . . @loganspet

When Logan Howlett, your sugar daddy, finally gets his hands on you again, there’s no holding back.

Pairing:

Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Daddy Kink, Dom! Logan, Sub! Reader, Rough sex, Teasing, Banter, Age gap, Dirty talk, Fingering , Use of pet names, Bimboification, Reader has piercings, Minor Ass spanking, No control, Explicit language, Explicit sexual content, Dog tags, Unprotected Sex (p in v).

Cotton Candy is Readers Nickname meaning docile and approachable

Inspiration nsfw link :3

Half asleep, I can’t shake the thought of him slipping into my bed, so I wrote this .

. . .

─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ───

╭──────────.★..─╮

[You:] I’m booooored.

[Lo:] And?

[You:] And you should entertain me, duh.

[Lo:] Ain’t my problem, princess.

You scowl at your screen.

╰─..★.──────────╯

You roll your eyes, sprawled across the plush sheets of your king-sized bed. Technically, it’s your bed, in your penthouse—but let’s be real. It’s all because of him.

Logan keeps you in luxury, a spoiled little thing in lace and diamonds. He likes you soft, pretty, with a closet full of designer and a credit card you still haven’t hit the limit on. But right now? He’s being a pain in the ass.

Your manicured fingers tap against your phone.

╭──────────.★..─╮

[You:] Umm, actually, it is. You signed up for this so fucking mean. Ugh.

[Lo:] That right? Ain’t mean. Just don’t cater to whiny brats.

You picture him now, probably kicked back in his Chevrolet, cigar clenched between his teeth, jaw tight. He’s never been much for texting—too impatient, too old. You giggle at the thought.

[You:] You literally do tho. My closet says otherwise. What’s wrong, old man?

He leaves you on read for a second, which makes you scowl. You hate when he does that—like he’s got something more important than you. So, naturally, you decide to push.

[Lo:] Keep runnin’ that mouth, Cotton Candy see what happens.

You roll onto your back, twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

[You:] Ooo, scary. What’re you gonna do, Lo? Ground me?

╰─..★.──────────╯

You smirk at your own sass, but when he doesn’t respond immediately, you pout. Logan’s such a grump. He doesn’t chase—not the way men your age do, falling over themselves for a chance with you. But that’s exactly why you love teasing him, making him snap.

A new idea.

You look in your vanity mirror. Your mirror is a dream—glossy lips, untidy hair, barely-there underwear, and something dangling between your tits. His dog tags. You bit your lip. Tits spill out. The cool metal rubs against your pierced nipples, barbell jewelry visible through the exquisite lace the lace he bought. Sliding your phone up, you angle the camera perfectly—pouty, teasing, tits pushed up, You make sure the tags are in focus, resting against your pierced nipples like they belong there. and attached it to a new message.

╭──────────.★..─╮

[You:] Ruin me, daddy. Please?

Delivered. Read.

You smirk.

Three dots appear. Vanish. Appear again. Oh, he’s pissed. The response takes seconds.

[Lo:] You wanna play that game, huh?

Your grin widens. Your stomach flips

[You:] Mmhmm. You get all growly ‘n’ bossy when you’re mad. So hot, Lo.

[Lo:] ‘Lo’? The fuck kinda name is that?

You giggle, twirling a strand of hair again.

[You:] Short for Logan. Duh.

[Lo:] Don’t call me that. I hate it

He loves it

[You:] Aww. Someone’s grumpy. Lemme guess—you’re sittin’ there, puffin’ on one of those nasty cigars, pretendin’ you’re not hard as hell right now.

Three dots appear. Vanish.

You’re kicking your feet.

[You:] C’mon, daddy. Bet you can’t handle me tonight.

Still nothing. Fine. You decide to push harder, slipping your fingers into your lace panties, dragging them low—just enough to tease. Another pic. Another message.

[You:] Bet you won’t do a thing about it.

Delivered. Read.

The response is immediate.

[Lo:] Bet your fuckin’ ass I will. Open the door.

Your breath catches.

Wait—

[You:] …You’re already here?!

[Lo:] Got in the car the second you sent that first pic. Ain’t in the mood for your games, bubs. Open the door, now.

Oh, shit.

You scramble up, heat pooling between your thighs, heart pounding. Your phone vibrates again.

[Lo:] And take those fuckin’ panties off before I get in there. If you’re gonna act like a needy little brat, you’re gonna learn what happens when daddy finally has enough.

Your whole body shivers.

You’re so in trouble.

╰─..★.──────────╯

─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ───

You barely have time to process before there’s a heavy knock at your door. Sharp. Impatient.

Your pulse jumps.

Oh, you really did it this time.

Scrambling off the bed, you toss your phone aside and tug your panties down, just like he ordered. A rush of excitement floods through you—nerves and need tangled together. You love this part, the chase. Pushing him, testing the limits of that patience.

And now? You’re about to see what happens when you finally snap it.

You unlock the door with trembling fingers. The second it swings open.

Big hands. A rough grip. Logan grabs you, one hand fisting your hair, the other bracing against your jaw, forcing your head up to meet his glare.

He smells like cigar smoke and leather, like pine and something dangerous.

“Y’think you’re cute, huh?” His voice is low, thick with something darker than irritation.

Your lips part, but nothing comes out.

Logan’s eyes flick down, and fuck, you swear you see his jaw tighten when he sees his tags between your tits, resting against your soft skin like they were made to be there. back when their little arrangement was still just that—an arrangement. He paid for your apartment, your designer bags, diamond bracelets. You let him grab you by the waist, let him pull you into his lap when the two of you were alone, let him drink in the way you looked in all the things he bought. It was a game, a back-and-forth, push-and-pull. Spoiled you rotten, the perfect little doll for him.

But one night, You saw them. His dog tags. Hanging off the hook in his bedroom like they didn’t belong to him, like they weren’t something personal, something worn close to his heart.

You wanted them so you took them

“Y’just don’t know when to quit, do ya?” He mutters, stepping inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

You give him a slow, syrupy smile. “Not really.”

His nostrils flare.

Then he’s moving—shoving you back against the wall, pinning you there like you belong beneath him. His grip tightens around your chin, thumb pressing against your glossy bottom lip.

“Daddy asked you a question.” His voice is rough, a quiet rasp of warning.

You blink up at him, lashes fluttering. “Which one?”

His expression darkens.

“Brat.”

Oh, you love it when he gets like this—when his rough hands and mean mouth are too much for anyone else, but perfect for you.

“I missed you, Logan” you sigh, tilting your head, giving him a coy smile of yours that drives him wild.

His thumb drags against your lip, just barely dipping between your teeth.

“Yeah? That why you were sendin’ me filthy fuckin’ pictures while I was drivin’?” he growls, his breath hot against your skin. He always loves hearing his name from you—especially when it comes out so sweet, so innocent, even though he knows exactly what’s underneath that pretty, ditzy exterior.

Your grin widens. “Mhm.” you hum, drawing out the sound just enough to drive him wild. “I missed everything about you, Logan”

His thumb presses against your tongue, just enough to make you gasp.

“Everything, huh? Got no patience for your games tonight, sugar. Y’been beggin’ for my attention all fuckin’ week.” He leans in, breath hot against your cheek. “Now you got it.”

“I want you so bad,” you whisper against his lips, your breath coming faster, need building. “Do you want me, Lo?” You whimper, thighs pressing together. Of course he did if he didn’t he wouldn’t be here.

His lips brush against your ear. “What was it you said?” His voice is pure gravel, his grip sliding down your body, over soft curves, possessive and firm. “Bet I won’t do a thing about it?”

A sharp little gasp slips out before you can stop it.

Then his hand grips the inside of your bare thigh. Just enough to sting. Just enough to make you ache.

─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ───

His voice is a growl against your ear, rough like gravel, thick like smoke.

“You really got no shame, do ya? Bubs”

You giggle, all soft and sweet, batting your lashes up at him. “Not when it comes to you, Lo”

Logan exhales sharply through his nose, like he’s trying to keep his shit together. You know that sound. It’s the same one he makes when he’s gripping the steering wheel too tight after you’ve spent the whole car ride teasing him with your pretty little mouth.

His hand is still on your thigh, big and hot, pressing in just enough to remind you who’s in charge. His other hand trails up, fingers catching on the chain of his dog tags—right where they sit between your tits.

You see it then, the way his eyes darken, locked on the cold metal resting against your warm skin.

He loves it.

He hates how much he loves it.

“You think just ‘cause you’re wearin’ these, you get to act like a fuckin’ menace?” His thumb brushes the tags, then trails down, grazing your nipple through the thin lace. The metal is cold against your skin.

You gasp, arching into him. “Mmm. Maybe.”

His grip tightens.

Maybe it’s the pout you give him. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re not wearing panties, just like he told you to. Maybe it’s the way your skin is warm and soft under his rough hands—so delicate compared to him.

Whatever it is, Logan’s patience snaps like a frayed wire.

He fists the chain and tugs. Not enough to hurt, just enough to pull you closer, to make you feel who you belong to.

“You got no fuckin’ idea what you just started, Cotton Candy.”

You shiver, looking up at him through heavy lashes. “Guess you’ll have to show me.”

His nostrils flare.

Then, without another word, he grabs you—lifts you like you weigh nothing and tosses you over his shoulder, one big hand landing a sharp slap against your bare ass.

You squeal, wiggling in his hold.

“Fuck Logan!”

Another spank, harder this time.

“What was that?”

You whimper, pressing your thighs together, breath shuddering. “Daddy.”

His smirk is damn near feral as he starts toward your bedroom.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought.”

─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ───

Logan kicks the door shut behind him, the sharp click of the lock sliding into place making your stomach tighten.

You’re still slung over his broad shoulder, ass on display, his fingers kneading at your soft flesh like he’s debating whether to spank you again.

He takes his time.

Lets you feel every step—every shift of his powerful frame, every roll of his muscles under your body. It’s dizzying, being manhandled like this, thrown around like you weigh nothing. And fuck, you love it.

“Dunno if you deserve my time tonight, sugar.”

“Daddy,” you whine, squirming in his grip. “You’re being so mean.”

Logan flicks open his lighter with a practiced ease, the small flame illuminating his face for just a moment before he brings the cigar to his lips. The end glows ember-red as he takes a slow drag, cheeks hollowing, the scent of burning tobacco filling the air. He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t break eye contact. Just watches you through the curling tendrils of smoke, that sharp-toothed smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

A chuckle. Deep, throaty. Cruel.

“Yeah?” he drawls, voice thick and amused, the cigar bobbing between his teeth as he speaks. His palm finds your ass again, fingers kneading into soft flesh, teasing, taunting. “’Cause I ain’t the one sendin’ pictures, beggin’ to be ruined, huh?”

You pout, not that he can see it. “It was just a little tease.”

You swallow hard, heat curling in your stomach, but Logan just snorts, exhaling a sharp puff of smoke through his nose like he doesn’t believe a damn word out of your mouth.

“Yeah? Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

And then you’re falling.

Your back bounces against the bed as Logan drops you without an ounce of gentleness, and a little oof leaves your lips. But before you can complain, before you can even think about sitting up, he’s already on you—big, warm, and so much, caging you in with that solid body like you’re tiny beneath him.

His knees press into the mattress, one rough hand spreading your thigh open like it’s his to play with. His other arm braces beside your head, keeping you right where he wants you, making you so, so helpless under him. You’re not, of course—you know how to push his buttons, how to whine and get your way.

Logan knows better.

Knows you’re a spoiled, needy gorgeous thing. Knows you love pushing him to his limit just to see how far he’ll take it.

Tonight, you’re fucked.

“You like bein’ a whore, huh? Like makin’ me work for it? Huh, bub?”

You open your mouth to argue, but before you can, his fingers dip between your thighs, sliding through your already-messy slick.

“Damn,” he mutters, voice low, guttural. The rasp in it sends a shiver down your spine. “Drenched for me already, huh?“

Your breath hitches when he slides a thick finger inside, slow at first, teasing. He watches your body react, watches the way you arch and whimper, all pretty and desperate under him.

Your hands curl into the sheets as you whine, bottom lip wobbles “M’not easy.”

Logan just chuckles, dark and knowing. His free hand grips your chin, tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him.

“You sure about that, sweetie?” His fingers press a little deeper, his thumb circling your clit in lazy, unhurried strokes.

“This is mine”

You gasp, back arching, legs spreading instinctively. His touch is firm, practiced—he knows exactly how to unravel you, how to work your body until you’re shaking.

“I-" your voice squealing with delight, the more you cry for him.

“Yeah?” His thumb drags over your pouty bottom lip, like he’s thinking about stuffing it in your mouth.

And then—his fingers speed up.

The shift is sudden, brutal. From slow, teasing drags to deep, fast thrusts, curling just right, fucking you open with rough, unrelenting precision. His palm smacks against your soaked little cunt with every stroke, the sound loud, wet, filthy. The kind of sound that makes your cheeks burn. The kind of rhythm that makes you forget how to think.

Your back arches off the bed, legs trembling, hands fisting the sheets, desperate to grab onto something, anything.

“Oh,” you gasp, nodding eagerly, shivering when he fingers your swollen, desperate cunt. eyes going all glossy and unfocused. “Oh—Logan—” ..★ ..★

Your face burns, but you don’t deny it. Can’t. Not when he’s got you like this—pinned beneath him, fingers buried deep, dragging you toward the edge like it’s nothing.

“Daddy,” you whimper, hands flying to his shoulders, clinging tight, nails digging into muscle like you need to ground yourself.

He hums in approval, lips quirking into a smirk.

“That’s right, baby,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth, teasing. “Say it nice. Show me you deserve it.”

You’re already panting, thighs trembling as the pressure builds, but you force yourself to meet his gaze, batting your lashes. And then his mouth is on yours.

It’s not sweet. Not gentle. Logan kisses like he fights—rough, unrelenting, a clash of heat and dominance that steals the breath from your lungs. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, a sharp nip that sends a jolt of pleasure straight through you. You whimper against his mouth, but that only makes him bite harder, dragging his teeth along the plush curve before soothing the sting with his tongue.

The taste of copper blooms between you.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest as he licks into your mouth, tasting the blood, tasting you. He groans when his tongue meets the cool metal of your piercing, rolling against it, sucking your tongue into his mouth like he’s starved for it. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your belly as the kiss deepens into something messy, desperate.

Your lips are swollen, slick, the faintest trace of blood smeared between them as he finally pulls back, panting, his grip on you still tight, still possessive. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, smearing the crimson before he shoves his thumb past your lips, pressing down on your tongue.

“Look at you,”

“Please, Daddy,” you breathe, voice dripping with sweet desperation. “Please fuck me. Want you so bad—”

Your words cut off in a gasp when he pulls his fingers out, leaving you empty, aching.

Logan brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean, groaning low in his chest like he’s savoring you.

“Logan… Screw you” you whine, lifting your hips in an attempt to chase the pleasure you crave.

Wrong move.

His palm cracks against your ass, sharp and punishing.

“No,” he commands. “Stay still.”

─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ───

The sound of his belt unbuckling makes your breath hitch. That sharp clink of metal, the slow drag of leather through the loops—it’s enough to have you clenching around nothing.

Logan knows it too. Knows exactly what that does to you.

He smirks, cigar between his teeth, letting his belt fall to the floor with a heavy thud. Then his hands go to his jeans, flicking the button open, dragging the zipper down slow—making you watch, making you wait.

You whimper, shifting under him, body already arching in silent desperation.

“Always so impatient,” he mutters, kicking his jeans off, watching you with those dark, heated eyes. “You know how this goes, sugar.”

Yeah. You do.

Because this isn’t the first time you’ve begged him like this, all messy and desperate, no teasing, no buildup—just pure, aching need.

And Logan’s never been the type to deny you.

You barely get the chance to breathe before he’s gripping your thighs, spreading you open, fitting himself between them.

No warning. No preparation. Just the blunt, thick head of his cock pressing against your slick, dripping entrance, pushing in deep.

You cry out, nails digging into his shoulders, thighs trembling at the stretch.

─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ───

You don’t remember exactly how it happened—how a night of harmless flirting turned into something permanent.

But somewhere between the stolen kisses in the dark and the way he fucked you, Logan decided you were his.

And you loved that.

You loved being spoiled.

Liked being taken care of.

Loved the feeling of his rough hands on your soft skin, the contrast of his calloused fingers slipping expensive jewelry onto you like you were some pretty little doll for him to dress up.

He made sure you had everything.

“You wanna act like a spoiled little thing—” he had rasped once, pinning you against the wall, cigar dangling from his lips.

You had just giggled, chewing your bubblegum, watching his eyes darken when your lips pouted around the pink sweetness.

“I am spoiled, daddy.”

Logan had exhaled, thick smoke curling around you both as he dragged his mouth up your neck, biting at your jaw, his voice a low growl—

“Yeah? Then I better make sure y’know who spoils ya.”

─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ───

Now, with your legs wrapped around his waist, his dog tags bouncing between your tits, his teeth sinking into your neck.

You know.

It burns—God, it burns—but you don’t care. You love it. Love how rough he is, how he takes you, he owns you.

“Fuck,” Logan growls, head dropping to your shoulder, voice thick with need. “So goddamn tight Cotton Candy —”

You whimper, legs wrapping around him, heels digging into his back. “Daddy, please—”

That’s all it takes.

With a low, ragged growl, Logan pulls back—just enough to slam back in, burying himself to the hilt.

Your back arches off the bed, lips parting in a soundless gasp.

He sets a brutal pace, fast and deep, no softness, no hesitation—just pure, unrelenting need.

Each thrust punches the air from your lungs, leaves you gasping, whining, begging.

“Fuckin’ ruined for me,” Logan growls, voice thick with possession. “Ain’t no man ever gonna fuck you like this, baby. You know that, don’t you?”

You nod frantically, babbling out a breathless, “Yes, Daddy—only you, only you—”

Logan grunts in approval, pace punishing now, skin slapping against skin. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard knocking against the wall, but you don’t care.

All you care about is him. His hands gripping your hips, his breath hot against

─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ───

Logan shifts, gripping your hips, pulling you up until your legs wrap tight around his waist. The new angle makes you see stars ..★ ..★ —his cock pressing impossibly deep, stretching you wide, claiming every inch of you.

Your lingerie—what’s left of it—is already slipping off your shoulders, straps hanging loose, fabric bunched up around your ribs. Logan’s fingers roam up your torso, curling around the delicate lace, and with one sharp tug—

Riiip.

You gasp, eyes wide, body jerking from the sudden tear of fabric against your skin.

“Logan!” you gasp, half-scolding, half-turned on.

He just smirks, watching the shredded lace fall from your body, leaving you completely bare. His voice is rough, teasing as his thumbs skim your nipples. Click—the dog tags hanging between your tits clink together.

“I’ll buy you another one, Cotton Candy,” he murmurs, like it’s nothing. Like he’ll buy you a thousand more just to tear them off again.

Your head falls back against the pillows, shivering as his hands roam, feeling every inch of you like he owns it.

And he does.

Logan leans down, chest pressing flush against yours, his cock hitting deeper—making you gasp. His shirt’s still on, fabric rough against your bare skin, but it doesn’t last long.

One-handed, he tugs it over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him.

God, he’s huge.

Thick and broad, every inch of him veined and solid, muscles shifting beneath his scarred skin as he moves. The happy trail leads down to where he’s buried inside you, disappearing between your trembling thighs.

The cigar still hangs lazily from his lips, the ember burning low. A slow curl of smoke wafts up toward the ceiling.

Logan smirks down at you, rolling his hips slow, grinding against you—making you feel every inch of him.

“Needa fill ya to the brim, bub where you're already sweet and ready for me, is where my cock goes—where my dick belongs." he rasps, voice heavy with lust.

“Oh god…” You gasped, eyes wide, looking down at the way his cock was bulged inside of you.

Your lips part, a shuddering whimper slipping past. “Mm… Lo”

His smirk widens, hand sliding down to grip your throat, thumb brushing your jaw.

“Yeah, sugar,” he mutters, leaning in, breath hot against your lips. “Real deep. Make sure ya feel me all fuckin’ night.”

His mouth crashes against yours, the kiss sloppy, rough, all teeth.

His canines graze your lip before he bites, sharp and deep—just enough to sting, to bruise.

You whimper, fingers tangling in his thick hair, nails scraping against his scalp.

He groans at that, hips snapping forward, cock slamming into you so hard your back arches off the bed.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl,” he growls, licking the blood from your swollen lip.

Then he grabs your hips and fucks you stupid.

─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ───

Your brain turns fuzzy, all soft and sweet, floating somewhere between pleasure and delirium.

Logan’s weight keeps you pinned, his body hot, muscles flexing, his hips slamming into you over and over until all you can do is take it.

His cock stretches you impossibly wide, dragging along that sensitive spot inside you with every brutal thrust. Your nails claw at his back, but you’re weak, barely able to hold onto him as your body trembles beneath him.

“D-Daddy—mm—s’too much…” Your voice is all breathy, slurred, almost drunk on him.

Logan just chuckles, that low, gravelly sound rolling through his chest. His cigar’s long gone now—probably crushed somewhere on the nightstand.

“Aww, what’s wrong, baby ?” he drawls, licking up the side of your throat. “My dumb lil’ candy can’t take it?”

Your head lolls back against the pillows, eyes glassy, lips parted. Every thrust punches another little whimper out of you, soft and broken, your thighs trembling around his waist.

He smirks at the way you’re gibbering now, no real words left—just babbling, whining, fists clenching and unclenching against his shoulders.

“C’mon, bubs,” he grunts, voice thick. “One more. Give me one more, yeah?”

You sob, shaking your head, but your body betrays you—your walls fluttering around him, sucking him deeper.

“Fuck—there ya go,” Logan groans, his rhythm stuttering, movements getting erratic. He’s close—real close.

His grip tightens on your hips, his pace turning sloppy, grinding deep until—

He pulls out at the last second, thick ropes of cum spilling across your chest, dripping down your belly.

You gasp, body twitching, still lost in the aftershocks.

Logan groans low in his throat, watching the mess he made, his fingers tracing through the pearly streaks painting your soft skin.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, half outta breath, voice wrecked.

You blink up at him, all fuzzy, pretty, lips swollen from his kisses, breath coming in little gasps.

Logan smirks, brushing a thumb across your cheek.

“Y’look real good like this, baby,”

…

[asavt]

Today's warm ups: A little bit of that tag-ramble of the deceit trio living in PV's robes, a scenario related to that with Espresso and Black Sapphire (and Candy Apple), and a little storyboard idea.

[yatori-morgana]

I'm fuckign posting fanfic for once

Contents and warnings: ur js making out tbh, I used literally no names and minimal dialogue

»Floyd Leech x gn!Reader

————————————

His lips are softer than expected. Perhaps it's to balance out the sharpness of his teeth, the teeth lightly tugging on your lower lip. It's hard to remember how or why this started, and while he was slow at first, he's anything but now. His hands are somehow everywhere all at once, squeezing you close and mapping out new territories.

Much like his abnormally long tongue, for that matter. Long enough to make you gag if he wanted, yet it doesn't. There's an underlying care buried beneath the desperate pawing and sharp nips. Did he have candy earlier? You taste artificial grape.

His wandering hands never stay in one place; he's either indecisive or genuinely wants it all. It's hard to tell with him. Similarly, the noises he makes are ever-fluctuating. Some are breathy and quiet, and others are predatory growls. He whines when you bite back, but his breathing unsteadying and grip tightening bely his complaint. It's never enough for him. You're never close enough, constantly pulled by various positions of his hands.

He scrapes his teeth over your tongue when he pulls back slightly, only to push the back of your head and force you back in. He was definitely fighting an intrusive thought.

He's so open with his wants. It's not hard to tell he likes when you tug his hair or dot his lips with pinpricks of blood. He's going to be a very rough lover, not that it wasn't expected.

It's getting too heated.

"Nooo~!" Comes the whine when you break away. He looks like a kicked puppy, reaching for you again only to be gently pushed away. Another whine. Someone could round the corner any second. The point makes him begrudgingly relent, a pout on his face. His lips are spotted with pinpricks of red and kiss-swollen. It's a good look for him.

He seems to flirt with a mood swing, only to pick you up and swing you around. He lets out one of those familiar raucous laughs at your reaction. When you're safely sat back down on terra firma, your face is immediately peppered with more kisses. "I love you~!" He declared with all the confidence in the world.

Is this love? It's easy to question.

The answer somehow comes easier.

When the sentiment is returned, he suddenly becomes uncharacteristically sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck, averting his eyes and holding back an awkward smile. His cheeks are reddening, you notice. Was he always this easy to fluster?

You're squeezed against him all over again, and he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. He doesn't say or do anything for maybe a solid minute. Then there's a swaying. Left to right, left to right. It's slow and calming, hardly a movement at all. A tap to his shoulder has him leaning back and blinking in confusion. Oh, he's not falling asleep? It's a comfort thing?

Maybe it reminds him of the oceans waves.

You'll never know because you don't ask for clarification.

He mumbles something about wanting to cuddle more and doesn't seem too intent on staying in the same place. There's a pause, but as you search his face, you find yourself relaxing. There's no pressure, no other suggestion. Just wide, hopeful eyes. He's always been one to wear his true emotions on full display when it's safe to.

Safe.

The idea makes you smile.

"Okay."

————————————

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.

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Tag list

@kimdourden

[cantdanceflynn]

Riddle School Secret Exchange

From @riddletransfers exchange, a gift of writing for @itissadbutitsmy-life! Im sry, I was gonna have art to go along with it and i dont think its rly up to my standards life just kicks u in the ass yk? (warning for mentions of panic attacks, trauma, and implied canon complient police brutality(I based it off of my shit school so i hope this isn't like, pushing too far))

It always came back to school, didn't it. If Phil had the option, he would have asked his parents to be homeschooled the day after Quiz died.

But no one else could've either, and somehow, he didn't think it'd help to still have those memories and be isolated from his friends to boot.

Days like these though... Slumping over a desk hoping he could remember anything made him wonder if it would've been better. At least he could've used the same resources as the teachers.

He didn't know anyone in this class, so chances of him borrowing notes was admittedly slim. The class itself, chemistry, wasn't hard in and of itself. Mostly he just copied people's answers to labs and tried to remember enough for the tests. But the teacher requiring constant notes was a pain in the ass, to say the least.

But even if chemistry sucked, and did it ever, Phil could appreciate it for one thing. He could spend this whole class excited for the next one, every day, for forever.

Not that he was particularly excited to do math worksheets for an hour and a half, no. He was excited because it was the only class he had with all of his friends this year.

And to top it all off, the teacher didn't seem to give a shit about what happened as long as the work got done. The only thing they'd ever been told not to do was roast marshmallows over Zach's head, and that was because they set off the fire alarm. She probably wouldn't even notice if they did it again.

Thick as thieves was putting it lightly, and it was probably the only reason Phil understood why teachers assigned group projects themselves instead of letting people chat all class. So maybe chemistry felt like forever, but right afterwards he could chill with his friends and talk about their days and help each other out.

That last one happened more often than not lately. For some inane reason, their school had an extra cop assigned to it. Because kids needed to watch out for more dangerous people, obviously.

It probably wouldn't even have made them worry so much if the bastard didn't decide to wear shades and pretend he was an FBI agent or whatever he wanted to be. They'd seen the real deal and this wasn't it, but it looked close enough to freak them out.

Phred was actually the first one to break last week, hyperventilating into his hands before Smiley ran out to get a paper bag. Phil still didn't know all that had happened, but the cop presumably decided the kid was suspicious for being nervous around him, as if anyone didn't understand why.

A bunch of stutters and sobs and rants later, there were four submitted worksheets, two with Smiley's handwriting, and they had implicit permission to walk Phred down to the councilors office. They stayed there for the rest of the day, helping him work through memories anybody who wasn't present wouldn't believe if their life depended on it.

This kind of thing wasn't uncommon, even before more and more triggers started popping up. Phil still didn't know if triggers was the right word for it, but the probability of finding a therapist that believed any of them was slim to none, so he figured it didn't really matter.

Sure, he could dwell on everything that had happened all he wanted. Wonder what the hell had happened on the government side of things, if they were spared or if they just didn't bother tracking them down, or if something else happened. Either way it would be his fault.

Really, it was all his fault. It overwhelmed him sometimes, with the constant reminder that every panic attack and flinch was his fault. Like the story he didn't really read for English or whatever, with the heart the lady could always hear or feel beating.

But his guilt dragged theirs down, much as the pressure of the tiled hallways. Maybe he should be a poet. He'd have plenty of out there material, that's for sure.

Class bell autopilot must've kicked in, because Phil didn't even realize he was sitting in his usual seat until Phred tapped him on the shoulder.

"Yup, we're dealing with a zombie here," he announced in a deadpan voice. "Someone take him to the nurse and let's see if cough drops can bring back the dead."

"Hey!" Smiley punched Phred's shoulder, but she was grinning and so was Zach. Phil loved to "admit" it, their smiles were infectious.

"Eh, there we go." Zach flicked his face and raised an eyebrow in humor when Phil flinched. The humor was quickly replaced by sputtered indignancies as Phil covered his face with a hand.

"That's what you ge-!" Phil's retort was stopped by Zach licking his hand, giggling as Phil shook said hand desperately. "Grosssss....."

Smiley laughed. "Hey, you spoke! Took long enough." Her light hearted teasing was only punctuated by how she was practically plowing through her worksheets. She got given them all at once at this point, her boundless enthusiasm adding to the notes the teachers inevitably had for her.

Like all of them, she was far from a joy to have in class. Constantly correcting the teacher came at a cost, as it turned out. But unlike the rest of them, she could at least do her work nigh perfectly.

"Still can't convince you to do my work?" Phil jokingly questioned.

"Nope! Gotta earn it, silly!" She hummed back as she worked, scribbling down a correction on the teacher's formatting with a disapproving click of her tongue.

Phred rolled his eyes, but he actually started before the rest of them. So much for ambitionless, Phil supposed. He wasn't heading for top of the class or anything, but he had motivation now. Weird as it felt to him, him of all people, there was a twinge of pride in Phil's chest.

He stuck his tongue back out Zach before starting his work. Zach huffed and started too. As the sound of pencils scribbling filled their corner, one thought filled Phil's head.

He was so, so lucky to be in a real, oppressing as it might be, school, with them all, this time.

sry again if this isn't very goodddd

[thoughts-rambles]

It was a sad sight. Asmodeus had started his new diet, and on the same day you had came back with treats from the human world. As his brothers went around trying the candies and snacks you had brought- while also preventing Beel from eating them all- Asmo was left to watch them in envy. You felt bad watching him sit, unable to partake in your gifts; there really was no reason for him to diet, but there was also no way of reasoning with him. So you simply averted your eyes, focusing on the brothers who could enjoy what you brought.

And then you got an idea.

After the original excitement had worn down, and all the brothers had dissolved back to their rooms, you sat at the table with the remaining bag of candies. You quickly got up with a handful of flavors and plan in mind, making your way to the 5th brother's room. It only took a couple knocks before Asmo would excitedly open the door. He'd greet you, as usual, with a quick kiss and inquiry on your arrival. You told him you had a surprise, walking past him and sitting on the bed, patting the spot next to yourself. As he walked over and sat down, you popped a candy in your mouth, chewing it as he looked at you in confusion. Before he could speak to ask, however, you pulled him in to a kiss. His eyes widened as you cupped his cheek, quickly closing so he could reciprocate your affections. The kiss was a way to share with him the flavors of your favorite treats, even when he wouldn't indulge in them himself. You pulled back for no more than a second before going to kiss him again. This time far longer and slower. He melted into it, and he swears he's never tasted anything better. As you pulled away again- for good this time- you could see the blush creeping up his neck before settling into his cheeks.

Little did you know what you had started. Asmo would now make you give him a kiss for every flavor you had- as well as some in between. Oh well... not like there was anything you'd rather be doing tonight.

[therealmrrobinson]

THE DAY THE EARTH BLEW UP: A LOONEY TUNES MOVIE Movie Review

Let’s be honest, when it comes to movies, the Looney Tunes brand has not had a very good run this decade. In 2021 there was Space Jam: A New Legacy, which turned out to be nothing but a shameless commercial for all things Warner Bros., and then there was the infamous tale of the shelved Coyote vs. Acme movie that may never see the light of day. So it’s with all of these tragedies that it’s a miracle that this movie, The Day The Earth Blew Up, even got released. (Granted through Ketchup Entertainment and not WB. themselves.) Not only that, but it’s also incredible that the end result is undeniably the best Looney Tunes ever made.

THE GOOD

What separates this movie from something like the Space Jam sequel, is that it is made by people who clearly love Looney Tunes. Despite the fact that we only have three characters, this movie stays true to who they are. Daffy Duck is more reflective of how his was when he was first introduced and before he started being paired up with Bugs Bunny. He’s a complete lunatic, he’s overly confident, and has a tendency to cause more trouble than what they have to deal with in the moment! Meanwhile, Porky Pig is the more sensible of the two, complete with his famous stutter. Eric Bauza does a fantastic job voicing both characters and much like Mel Blanc long before, it’s incredible how many of the Looney Tunes characters he’s able to voice to perfection. Petunia Pig is also a fun character. She manages to be the most sensible of the group, while also being crazy and…dare I say looney in her own way!

The animation is spectacular. It’s great to not only see classic 2D animation, but also 2D animation that was made for a big screen experience. The last two animated movies that I can think of that look like they were hand drawn are The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim or Teen Titans Go! To the Movies. In both instances, you watch those movies and question the reason to release them in theaters. The animation in The Day The Earth Blew Up is not only smooth and well detailed, but it also amplifies the insanity and comedy. One of my favorite gags is with Farmer Jim, the adopted father of both Daffy and Porky. While our two main characters are fully animated, Farmer Jim is mostly a static drawing played for full comic effect.

The movie is not just hilarious in how it captures the spirit of Looney Tunes, but also how it works as a parody of the alien invasion movies of the 1950s. From mind control, alien goo, 50s style flying saucers, and the title of the film itself, this movie is a perfect homage to those old school science fiction movies. However it’s mixed with that very chaotic tone that you expect from Looney Tunes and features enough twists that make the movie feel fresh and funny! The big masterplan of the alien invader is ridiculous but makes sense within the nature of the film!

OVERALL

This is about as good as a Looney Tunes movie can get and the flaws it has, aren't worth mentioning! I never got the appeal of Space Jam, and this is coming from a kid of the 90s. That movie should’ve been my childhood, but it just doesn’t work for me. As for Looney Tunes: Back in Action, I have a soft spot for that movie, but even then I can’t deny that The Day The Earth Blew Up blows that one out of the water. It’s got spectacular animation, it’s fateful to the source material, the characters are fun, and it’s jam-packed with jokes that made me laugh hard! Not to mention it has a lot of heart when it comes to Daffy and Porky’s friendship. It’s a reminder of what made Looney Tunes work in the first place and why they will endure until the end of time despite David Zaslav’s hatred for them!

RATING

GET OFF YOUR ASS AND GO SEE IT NOW!!!

[ckret2]

Chapter 75 of human Bill Cipher gradually becoming less and less the Mystery Shack's prisoner:

Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers!

They definitely won't get their lives endangered during the sleepover at all!! And if you believe that's not a lie, I've got a skyscraper in the second dimension to sell you.

####

A camera set up beneath the attic bedroom window recorded the dark room. In her pajamas, Mabel stood in the middle of the attic, boogying nervously to silent music.

A light shining from beneath the bedroom door turned off. Mabel stopped boogying, crept to the door, and leaned her ear against the crack.

She ran back to the camera and picked it up. "Okay," she whispered, "Dipper and Grunkle Ford are out on their mission, Stan and Abuelita are asleep, Soos finally knocked off building for the night, and Bill's in his new room. Welcome to... Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers!"

She held up a flattened cereal box she'd written the title on. The title was almost invisible in the dark, but it was framed by stars painted on with glow-in-the-dark nail polish.

"Step one: getting your friends in the house." She turned the camera around. She swerved over to Waddles's bed as she crossed the room, whispering, "Hey, wanna come to the sleepover?"

Waddles snorted gently in his sleep.

"Aww, that's okay. Next time." She rubbed his belly, then crept toward the attic door.

She tiptoed in her socks down the newly-built hallway and past the curtain hiding Bill's new room, padded down the stairs, opened the back door, and hissed, "Pssst! Coast is clear!"

Out from the tree line ran Candy, wearing a camo-print blanket like a cloak, and Grenda, dressed in black and with her arms and face painted in brown and green. Grenda waved ecstatically at the camera as she passed.

With Mabel in the back, they quietly crept upstairs, quietly snuck past Bill's room, quietly closed the bedroom door, and quietly squealed with excitement. "First summer sleepover at the shack," Candy said, flopping on her back on Mabel's bed and spreading out her blanket cloak. She sat up, noticed a cardboard cradle next to Mabel's bed, and picked up the porcelain doll inside. "Oooh! Who's this handsome gentleman?"

"That's Bartholomew! I told you about him. Barty, these are my friends Candy and Grenda."

The doll did nothing.

"You can say hi, Barty! I trust them!"

The doll continued to do nothing.

"He's shy," Mabel said. "He's totally haunted by a little Victorian boy, though, really."

Candy nodded. "I believe you."

"This is cool!" Grenda said. She was trying to scrub the camo paint off her arms and face with her hands. "I've never gone to a secret sleepover before. Next time we should sneak into my place!"

"Okay, so," Mabel said. "I promised you I'd introduce you to the secret guy that's been staying here as soon as it was okay to. And it's okay to! As long as nobody else finds out I introduced you."

Grenda nodded. Candy said, "This sounds reasonable."

"Anyway his name's Goldie, he's been staying at the shack this summer, he's really fun, he's kiiind of a bad guy but in a cool way"—(Candy appreciatively said, "Oooh.")—"aaand he's asleep right now." A dramatic pause. "But not for long."

Candy and Grenda grinned evilly.

####

"Secret sleepover step two," Mabel whispered. "Introducing your friends to your other friend!" The camera's dark screen was illuminated by a slit of light as Grenda pulled open the curtain to Bill's room. The dim starlight pouring into the room was barely enough to illuminate the white lightning and yellow circle of symbols on the hanging zodiac blanket as the girls pushed past it to creep into the room.

Bill lay sleeping on the chaise extension of the orange sofa, catty-corner to the doorway, curled up on his side with his back to the door. Beneath his curls, the eye stitched on the back of his hood peered out at the room, shifting up and down with his steady sleeping breaths. The girls crept up behind him, biting their lips to keep from giggling. Candy and Grenda flanked Mabel, arms raised in preparation to attack, as Mabel held up her fingers... 3... 2... 1...

Bill rolled over with a devilish grin and lunged at them. "HEY, KIDS!"

The girls screamed. They bolted for the hall with Bill's laughter following them.

####

"You should've seen the looks on your faces," Bill gloated. He was sitting on the floor, legs crossed lotus style, in a semicircle with the three girls around the camera Mabel had set on the sofa. They'd set one flashlight next to the camera pointing out and another on the floor pointing at the ceiling.

"You got us good," Candy admitted.

Grenda leaned across the semicircle. "Hi! I'm Grenda. This is Candy."

"I've heard a lot about you two." Bill sat back, giving Grenda a somewhat less than warm smile. "Call me Goldie."

Grenda gasped. "Hey! Candy, look at his eyes!"

"What?" Bill's gaze darted between the girls' faces. His eyes caught the faint light and flashed like a cat's.

"They did it again!"

"Whoa!" Candy got up on her knees and leaned toward Bill. He leaned away.

Panic crossed Mabel's face. "Uhh, I can explain—"

"We knew it," Candy said. "We were sure you couldn't let us meet Goldie because he was a werewolf catboy!"

"I dunno," Grenda said. "They look more like frog eyes. They're kinda bulgy, too."

Bill stared at Grenda. A broad smile broke out across his face. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said about them!"

Grenda asked, "Do your eyes suck into your face when you swallow like a frog's do?"

"I dunno, swallowing makes me blink. You tell me." Bill deliberately swallowed.

"Ugh, they do! Gross," Grenda said approvingly.

"Why do you have frog eyes? Are you a werefrog?" Candy asked. "Or did a mad scientist mutate you?"

Bill said, "You know the story about the frog prince? My great-grandfather."

"He is not."

"He could be!"

"Anyway," Mabel said, "Goldie's not any kind of not-human person or anything, that'd be crazy. He's just a big secret because he's committed war crimes, that's all!"

Grenda and Candy considered that.

"That's cool." Candy slowly pulled out a makeup bag. "Do you like makeovers?"

Bill eyed her appraisingly. "How good are you?"

####

The camera sat tilted off to the side, catching Grenda, Bill, and a bit of Mabel's hair. Bill and Grenda sat just out of the flashlights' range while Mabel and Candy off-screen debated how best to shape Mabel's lips. Grenda held a purple tube of foundation in one of the flashlights' beams; the tube had a logo that looked like a lilac triangle with a single eye and thick purple lips. She uncapped a black eyeliner pen, drew a big X over the triangle's eye and gave it a curly mustache, and added a cramped word bubble over it that said "UGLY LOSR." Grenda chuckled.

Past her, Bill's eyes flashed in the dark as they narrowed.

"Finished!" Mabel announced. She turned the camera to face the whole quartet again. "Secret sleepover step three: normal sleepover activities! Starting with... makeovers! Remember, you're beautiful just the way you are; but a real artist can look at a human body and see a canvas. And canvases are for paint!"

She pointed the flashlight at her own face. "I call this look... the Showstopper." She had eyeshadow, blush, and lipstick—in three different shades of pink—liberally caked on with a crunchy layer of multicolored glitter and with plastic gems bedazzling her brow and temples. It looked bad.

Mabel pointed the flashlight at Grenda. "This one's... Beach Babe."

Grenda said, "Like a mermaid!" She had blush painted to look like scales, clumpy blue mascara and blue eyeshadow shaped like waves, and lipstick that looked like a fish. It looked bad.

Mabel pointed at Candy. "And this is the Glam Rock Revival!" Candy had a shimmery blue star painted over one eye and half her face, and a smaller matching star on her opposite cheek. It looked unexpectedly good.

"And Goldie..." Mabel pointed the flashlight at his face. "He kinda just... let us experiment with some designs Candy found in a makeup book."

One of his eyes had a neon rainbow eyebrow and eyelashes and tiny glittery butterfly stickers. The other eye had golden eyelashes and bright blue and black flames that would look at home spray painted on an old school hot rod. It looked bad.

"I look awesome," Bill said.

"And check out our mani-pedis!" Grenda grabbed the camera and pointed it down at their hands and feet. Mabel had messy watermelon nails, Grenda had decent French tips, Candy's actually matched her makeup, and Bill—who, unlike the girls, wasn't so much showing off his nails as he was just sitting there while Grenda waved the camera around—had a different set on each hand and foot.

Mabel said, "Goldie let us each experiment on one set of nails."

Grenda pointed at Bill's right hand, "I did that one!" He had five extremely long glue-on nails, which in turn each had two more glue-on nails on top, each trimmed to a sharp point. All fifteen nails had garish pre-printed designs—stripes, polka dots, and three types of animal print. None matched.

Bill cheerily said, "I could stab clean through a grown man's throat with these."

Mabel leaned closer. "Goldie, why's your other hand so boring!" His left hand had all black nails.

Bill said, "Turn off the flashlights."

Mabel turned them off. Five glow-in-the-dark eyes peered up from Bill's nails. The girls ooohed appreciatively.

"Now what?" Candy asked. "We can't do our other usual sleepover activities. Rom-coms, karaoke, and saucy book readings are too loud for a secret sleepover."

"Aww," Bill groaned, "I was looking forward to karaoke."

"Candy's right." Mabel turned a flashlight back on. "We'll have to get creative. What's a good traditional sleepover activity that isn't too loud?"

They sat around for a moment in silent thought.

Bill turned the other flashlight on under his grinning face. "You girls ever summon a demon before?"

The girls smiled excitedly.

####

The camera trained on Grenda and Candy as they leaned over the lizard tank in the Mystery Shack's museum, staring at the "baby dragon" display. "Awww," Grenda cooed. "Look at them! They're so cute." She stood on her toes and crossed her arms on the edge of the tank. "How do their fake wings stay on?"

"Alien superglue. It'll last until their next shed," Bill said from behind the camera.

"They're very brown," Candy said, disappointed. "I guess it's good camouflage." She held up part of her camo blanket cloak to compare.

Grenda said, "I think they're either western fence lizards or sagebrush lizards. Do you know where Mr. Ramirez caught them?"

"In the forests around town," Bill said.

"Western fence lizards," Grenda said. "If they're boys, they'll have blue bellies!"

"Oooh." Candy crouched down eye-level with the lizards trying to see their bellies.

Grenda tentatively reached a hand into the tank to pick up one of the baby dragons; it skittered under a rock for safety.

Bill said, "You know your lizards, Grendo."

"Heh. Grend-O."

Candy said, "Grenda is the reptile and amphibian expert."

"I have a book on them! And a pet iguana!" Grenda announced. "Hey, Gold-O! What's your favorite lizard?"

Bill was silent a few seconds. "Leeet's go with chameleons. They've got cute eyes."

"Chameleons are my favorite too," Candy said. "I like how they change color. Their eyes are freaky, though."

Grenda said, "I like chameleon eyes! They're crazy! I think it'd be cool to look two different directions at the same time."

Bill lowered the camera slightly. "What, you mean like this?"

Grenda and Candy gaped at him in shock. Candy squealed in discomfort and shielded her eyes. "That looks painful."

Grenda laughed. "Cool," she said. "Hey, you like frogs too, right? What's your favorite frog!"

"Golden poison dart frogs." Bill answered without hesitation. "The brighter, the better."

"I love poison dart frogs," Grenda said. "On my death bed, I wanna lick one to find out what it tastes like!"

"Bitter sushi, until your mouth goes numb," Bill said. "But if you're gonna get drugged by a frog, make it a psychedelic toad. They're more fun."

"Ohhh. Thanks. Now I wanna taste sushi!" One of the baby dragons crept up a rock; Grenda tried, unsuccessfully, to catch it again.

Bill walked closer to the tank to film the lizards. After a moment, he asked, "What're your favorite frogs?"

"Oooh, that's hard." Grenda put her hand to her chin, thinking.

Candy said, "I think... the little green ones with the guts you can see through."

"Glass frogs," Bill provided.

"Either red-eyed tree frogs or strawberry poison dart frogs," Grenda said. "Maybe the tree frogs. Dart frogs have boring eyes."

"One of their only flaws." Bill paused. "What do you think about axolotls?"

"Mr. Pines lets me feed his sometimes," Grenda said. "They're kind of overrated, though. Frogs are better!"

"Hm." The hm sounded approving. Bill reached into the tank, effortlessly scooped his fingers beneath the wings and around the belly of a lizard, and lifted him up. Candy and Grenda gasped. "One male in the tank." He turned the lizard's blue belly toward the camera too. It wiggled in distress.

"Got it!"

Bill swung the camera around to look at Mabel, who'd just triumphantly come through the curtain from the gift shop. She was holding a box of rainbow chalk over her head. "The chalk Soos uses for sales and stuff!"

"Perfect," Bill said. "Manage to find a religious text?"

"No, buuut I found a copy of a DMV manual at the cash register." Mabel held up her find. "Will that work?"

"Hm." Bill considered it. "I've never seen someone try it before, but traffic law is just as imaginary as any other divine commands! Just try really hard to have faith in the rules of road safety and maybe it'll work. Never know unless we try it out!"

"Good enough for me!" Mabel said. "What did we need a religious text for, again?"

"Oh, once the demon's here, it's the only thing that'll be capable of banishing it, that's all," Bill said. "So! Where are we drawing this summoning circle?"

They found a clear space in the museum on the floor near the treasure chest display. Bill handed the camera momentarily to Mabel while he drew a four-inch version of the summoning circle for the girls to copy. "It needs to be white and blood red. Do we have any blood red chalk?" He rummaged through the box of chalk. "Hmm. Okay, either one of us can let a lot of blood, or we can try it out with pink chalk. What'll it be?"

Grenda and Candy looked to Mabel, considering the question seriously. Finally, Mabel said, "Pink chalk sounds like it'll be faster."

"I guess," Bill said, disappointed. He finished his example circle and stood. "Okay, there you go! Usually you're not even supposed to draw the circle unless you've fasted for twelve hours, but there's three of you and you haven't eaten in at least four hours, sooo it's probably fine."

Grenda raised a hand. "I had a soda. Is that bad?"

"Naaah, a soda's more bubbles than liquid, I bet it barely even counts."

Bill took over camera duties again as Mabel and Candy each took a stick of white chalk to draw half the circle. They started at different sizes. They had to do a weird wiggly slope in order to make the two halves meet. Candy asked, "Is that good?"

"Hmmm..." Bill considered the lopsided blob. "It's good enough!"

While Mabel and Candy puzzled over Bill's tiny pink protective sigils and tried to figure out how to draw them bigger, Grenda leaned over to Bill and whispered, "Hey! Are you really related to the frog prince?"

"No," Bill said. (Grenda's face fell.) "I was cursed by a witch. I can see through walls and in the dark, but in exchange I have frog eyes."

Grenda's face lit up again. "Stupid! Frog eyes just make you look even cooler!"

"That dumb witch had no idea what a real curse is. I got nothing but benefits," Bill said. "All right, you asked me one, let me ask you one."

Grenda looked at Bill with trepidation. "O-okay?"

"What's with the face you were drawing on that triangle?"

Grenda seemed relieved by the question. "Oh! We're not really supposed to talk about it much? But there was this triangle jerk that tried to take over the world last year. So we're supposed to cover up pictures that look like him. I dunno, it's a whole thing."

"Okay," Bill said irritably, "fine. How come you make him look stupid, though?"

"Because he was a big monster that hurt my friends and wrecked the town," Grenda said hotly. "He almost killed Mabel!"

Bill was silent a moment. "Sure," he said tersely. "If that's what it looked like, I can see how that would leave a bad impression."

"Hey, Goldie," Mabel said loudly. "I think we're done! Does this look right?"

"Let's see..." Bill inspected the circle, circling the perimeter with the camera. It looked bad. "Looks good enough," Bill said.  "All right! Everyone in position around the circle—Grenda, you're on the circle."

"Oops." She slid her foot back, smearing the chalk line and one of the protective sigils. "Uhh... I think I broke the ring?"

"It's fine, it's small! And you can still tell what the symbol is. Mostly," Bill said. "Okay, everyone remember the chant I taught you? Three, two..."

The camera's audio only recorded a long squeal of distortion instead of words as the girls started chanting. Bill backed up to get a better shot of the whole circle. The girls' eyes began glowing white; the flashlights flickered; and a fiery cloud of smoke filled the ring, billowing from floor to ceiling. The girls stumbled back, shielding their faces from the smoke.

"Hey, hey," Bill said. "Get back in there! If you stop the chant before it's complete, you'll—!"

With a boom, the smoke exploded outward, filling the room and completely obscuring the camera's view.

When it cleared up, the ring appeared to be empty.

Bill aimed the camera down and zoomed in. In the center of the ring was a tiny imp. It looked like a skinny coral-red hairless mouse with a spade-tipped tail and little bat wings.

"—you'll only get a small one," Bill finished.

They crouched down and stared at it. "It's cute," Candy said. Mabel said, "I'm naming her Cinnamon."

It blinked big wet black eyes at them. And then it scampered out of the gap in the chalk line.

The girls shrieked. The imp chased Candy around the treasure chest. Grenda tried to climb onto a display pedestal with a taxidermy jackalope, screaming, "Get it! Get it!"

"Candy! Run this way!" Mabel got on her knees, Oregon state driving manual held high over her head. As Candy ran past, Mabel shouted, "I do believe in the speed limit!" and swung the manual down like she was swatting a bug.

The manual smacked the imp. With a puff of smoke, it poofed out of the mortal plane and back to where it came from.

"Nice banishment, star girl," Bill said. "Hey, not bad for your first summoning, kids. You'll be bargaining with demon royalty in no time."

The girls heaved a sigh of relief. "That went pretty smoothly, I think," Candy said.

"Yeah!" Grenda climbed down from the pedestal. "There weren't any weird life-threatening twists or anything!"

"That doesn't happen a lot," Mabel said.

The camera suddenly lowered, pointing at the floor at an angle. "Hey, Mabel. Where'd you get this camera, anyway?" The camera's view turned back and forth. "It doesn't look like the one you usually record your guides with."

"Oh, yeah," Mabel said. "Dipper's using our normal camera, so I'm borrowing one I found in a box in the attic loft."

Bill said, "The cardboard box covered in fifteen strips of duct tape?"

"Uh-huh."

"So, the cursed camera?"

A pause. "The what?"

The camera's view became a blur as it whizzed across the room, only focusing again when the camera was ten feet in the air and staring down at the group of four. The camera's neck strap had wrapped tight around one of Bill's wrists, wrenching his arm into the air. Candy and Grenda automatically clung to his sides, the one adult in the room; he had his free arm raised up to avoid touching Candy.

"Well! This isn't ideal." The camera had a clipped, artificial-sounding voice—but a familiar one. "I'd been hoping you'd split up so I could steal your souls one by one!"

Mabel said, "Why do you sound like Grunkle Ford! Did you steal his soul?!"

"Stanford's voice is just the only one it's ever recorded before tonight," Bill said. "If it had stolen his soul, you'd know."

"How?"

"Because he'd be dead."

"Oh."

"So much for the element of surprise." The camera's sigh was laced with the crackle of VHS static. "But as long as my secret is out... time to hunt!"

"Huh! How about that," Bill said. "Kids? Run."

Grenda and Candy turned and bolted deeper into the museum.

Bill turned to stare at them in bewilderment. "Not that way—!"

Mabel threw herself on Bill's arm, trying to jerk down the camera and pull off the strap. "Let go of my friend, you—!"

The screen blurred as the camera butted the side of Mabel's head, knocking her to the ground. Panic flashed across Bill's face. "Mabel!"

The camera took advantage of his distraction to snap its strap around both his wrists, bind them together, and yank Bill closer. "At least I get to take out the biggest threat first," the camera hissed. "Smile for the camera, sweetheart."

Bill shot the camera a glare—and then seemingly got caught there, unable to tear his eyes away from the lens, as the camera slowly zoomed in...

And nothing happened.

"It's not working," the camera said. "Your soul should be sucked out by now. Why isn't it working?"

Bill shook himself out of the trance and laughed darkly. "Because a force too powerful for your little electronic mind to comprehend glued my soul in this body so tightly, even I can't pull it out!" He leaned closer until one wide bloodshot eye filled the screen. "Go ahead, give it your best shot! Maybe you'll help tug it loose!"

The camera paused. "Are... are you alright?"

Bill jerked back, scowling. "Oh, just shut— Mabel! Flashlight!"

"Flashlight!"

Bill tilted his head aside just in time for a flashlight to sail over his shoulder and crash into the camera. It shrieked inhumanly. It crash-landed at a tilt, a crack in its lens, the shot unfocused. Bill's blurry form looked down at the camera, holding the flashlight—and then he turned and ran for the curtain into the gift shop. The camera slowly rose back up.

Mabel shouted, "Bi—Goldie! Come back!"

"Keep it distracted!"

"You don't even need a flashlight, you coward!"

The camera's blurry view focused. The crack in its lens repaired itself. It stared at the curtain where Bill had disappeared, snarled, "Not worth it," and rounded on the museum.

And then it began stalking its prey.

The camera followed heavy thudding to find Grenda trying to knock down the main entrance's locked door. "Come on!" Grenda grunted. "This! Doesn't! Meet! Fire codes!" As she glimpsed the camera's approach, she gasped, flipped a rug over it, and bolted. 

It zoomed past Sascrotch, peered behind it, and caught Mabel and Candy clinging onto its back fur. They screamed, dropped down, and ran two different directions. The camera glanced between them indecisively and snarled in frustration when they both turned corners before it could choose a target.

It passed a six pack-o'-lope, a mummy, and a triclops skull; heard a papery rustle; and did a double-take at the displays. Grenda, wrapped in a bunch of receipt paper from the gift shop, ran away from the former "mummy" display.

It swooped under a taxidermy turtle with wings to find Candy hiding beneath the turtle's shell; Candy flipped the shell over the camera before she ran the other way.

It chased Mabel around a barrel of monkey heads, ending in a stalemate on opposite sides of the barrel with each of them twitching left and right trying to figure out which way to run; until it remembered it could just float over the top of the barrel. Mabel backed up and blew a handful of chalk dust in the camera's lens. By the time it wiped its lens clean on a dried monkey pelt, Mabel was gone.

It circled around the invisible man to see whether its cloak hid any children behind its back, made a noise of disgust when it didn't find any, and turned to leave. "Wait a minute. That man isn't invisible!"

Candy—her face beneath the "invisible man's" suspended glasses and bowler hat—sighed harshly and threw down her camo blanket, revealing she was sitting on Grenda's shoulders. "This camouflage doesn't do anything!" They tumbled to the ground and ran different directions.

This time, the camera didn't make the mistake of hesitating before choosing a target. It flew after Grenda.

Grenda stopped in a dead end with a gasp. "Uh-oh." She turned to see how close the camera was behind her, flinched, and tried to dodge around it. It jerked to the side, backing Grenda into a corner.

"Back off, you big, ugly—!" She punched the camera square in the lens, her fist filling the shot. The crunched lens had repaired itself before Grenda stopped shaking her smarting hand. She gasped and covered her eyes. "Please don't take my soul! I'm using it!"

"Not for long!" The camera's strap whipped around Grenda's wrists, yanking her hands down. "It's time for your close up!"

Grenda tried to turn her face away—but the camera caught her gaze, and she turned toward it, eyes wide, hypnotized. The shot zoomed in. A swirling green mist began spiraling out of Grenda's eyes.

Until another set of eyes cut in between, yellow and slitted and furious and framed by mismatched eyeshadow. "Miss me?"

"You," the camera snarled.

Grenda cheered, "Gold-O! You came back!"

"Hey, Grend-O." Bill glanced back over his shoulder. "Sorry for the wait—takes a while for glow-in-the-dark nail polish to charge and dry."

"Get out of my way!" The camera tried to butt the side of Bill's head.

He caught it in his left hand without looking, his arm extending off the edge of the screen like he was taking a selfie. "I don't think so." He raised his right hand—several of the ludicrous nail extensions had already broken off—with palm facing out. There was a symbol painted on his palm, glowing whitish green; but whatever symbol he'd painted on his palm couldn't be fully seen because the moment it was in full view of the camera's lens, it became so bright it almost completely washed out the rest of the frame.

The image skipped and the audio recorded a shriek of static before the camera managed to wrench itself free of Bill's grip and rush back.

Bill caught it by its strap, twisting it about his left wrist to keep it secure. "Now let's get this straight," he snarled, teeth bared at the camera. "Everything beneath this shack's roof is my domain and under my protection! If you want to hurt anyone here—" his voice dropped demonically low, "—you'll have to get through me." He dragged the camera closer. 

He clamped his right hand over the camera's lens, trapping it with the glowing symbol on his palm; the static screamed, stuttered; and then the film overheated and melted.

####

The camera switched back on. "Welcome back to Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers!" Mabel's left eyeshadow and blush was smeared across her face. "Weee're back! Goldie taped a symbol to the camera that keeps it stunned, so we're safe! Woo-woo! Now, back to sleepover step, uh... seven or something: greeting the sunrise with your friends who didn't get any sleep!"

She turned the camera toward Candy and Grenda, who were sitting with her on the saggy sofa on the back porch. They were blinking dazedly toward the glowing horizon.

"And now you've completed a successful sleepover! Great job, everybody!"

"You kids can stay up if you want," Bill said. (Mabel aimed the camera down; Bill was lying on his stomach on the porch, cheek resting on his crossed arms, eyes shut.) "I'm already asleep."

"Boo," Candy said. "Sleepover quitters are lame."

"Yeah," Mabel agreed. "But he saved our lives, I think he earned it if he wants."

"Do you wanna sleep on the couch?" Grenda asked. "There's still some room! We could squish together!"

"Nah, s'more comfortable down here," Bill mumbled. "My back's killing me."

Grenda laughed. "Old."

"I got assaulted by a camera!"

"Hold on, I have an idea!" She got off the couch and knelt next to Bill. "I saw this at the mall once." She dug an elbow into his back. "Is this helping?"

Bill grunted. "More to the left," he said. "It might be helping a little bit..."

Grenda pressed her other elbow into his back, putting her upper body weight on it. "How 'bout now?"

"Not quite..."

Candy climbed on the arm of the sofa and crouched there. "Let me try!" Grenda leaned back. Like a wrestler, Candy jumped in the air and dropped, sharp elbow first, onto Bill's back.

Bill's eyes flew open and he let out a strangled shriek of pain. It petered out. "Oh, hey—that actually got it. Thanks, kids." He sighed in relief and immediately fell back asleep.

Grenda pumped a fist. "Yes!"

"He really was tired," Candy said.

"So, what'd I say, girls?" Mabel asked. "I told you Goldie was cool, right?"

"Okay, you were right," Candy said. "He is a very patient makeup mannequin."

"And he taught us how to summon demons and saved our lives," Grenda said. "And the first thing didn't even cause the second thing! Which is weird!"

Eyes still shut, Bill mumbled, "You flatter me."

"Hey!" Grenda picked up a sofa cushion. "You're supposed to be a-SLEEP!" She swung it down on his head. He only laughed.

"Yes!" Mabel cheered. "And the moral of the story is the friend of my friend is my friend's friend! Or—wait—no. The friend of my friend is my friend too?"

From under the cushion, Bill said, "The friend of my friend is my rival for her attention."

"No!" Mabel turned the camera to herself. "Anyway, that's Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers! Tune in next time for... I dunno, maybe alpacas or something. We'll see!"

She set the camera in her lap, episode completed.

####

(Would you look at that, positive character growth. Hope you enjoyed, and looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts!)

[everythingmp3]

being farmer!Van’s younger lover - headcanons 𐙚 🌾

I couldnt get the idea of her as a farmer out of my head, so here are all the thoughts I had while imagining, mostly what she’d be like with a lover! I dont know much about the actual life of a farmer, so I kept her activities rather vague, it’s more about the vibe and the fantasy of it all, you get the idea <3 hope u enjoy

warnings: the second half of this is nsfw! some very brief mentions of substance abuse/addiction

her backstory:

(feel free to skip this intro if you just want the main plot)

she moved to NYC after high school, broke, not in college, unsure what to do but too stubborn to give up on her dream to live in the city she had idealized since she childhood, so she fought and bled for her right to stay, worked many bone-crushing jobs, got into friend groups with people who were also just trying to survive, which worked out in her favor for a while, but. eventually she got into the wrong kind of drugs and fell off, partying instead of working, getting fired from one job after the other, barely scraping by, somehow cheating her way out of ruin again and again, sleeping on friends couches, until she was in her mid-twenties and couldnt take it anymore, physically, spiritually, so she and her girl at the time packed their things and moved the country-side in the south, dreaming of a quiet, normal, mundane life, hoping and praying for some respite

at first, they managed, but the relationship was crumbling due to Vans refusal to address her substance abuse issues and her overall disregard for her health, her hermit lifestyle of only going to work so she could come back home and crash, so eventually they broke up, dramatically so, her ex screaming at her that she had to get her shit together or she’d die before hitting 30, which did wake her up - it hurt like hell but she knew it was true - Van was tired of everything, people, cities, even small towns, she didnt wanna see or talk to anyone, so she looked for jobs that would allow her to shut down and be quiet, which she found: an older couple, in their 50s, was looking for help at their farm nearby, in exchange for a spare room, so it was settled: she packed a few things and showed up at their door ready to leave her entire life behind and just be a pair of helping hands

she got lucky. the man and woman who ran the farm - which would be hers one day - immediately showed her a parental kind of tough love when they realized how desperately Van needed help and guidance, they didnt make her talk about it, but they could tell that she was recovering from some heavy shit, so they gave her a very clear schedule and made her stick to it, even when she was tired or grumpy, they gave her clear instructions and made her work with the animals a lot because they knew the effect that kind of contact can have on a suffering person

sure enough, Van blossomed after an initial period of disciplining her body, eating better, and growing stronger each day, it took a good amount of sweat and tears to settle in, but after a few weeks she adjusted and found out that she was much better at physical labor than she´d assumed, her stubborn streak came in handy, she pushed and pushed herself until the tasks came more easily to her. she also went to AA meetings in the area on and off, whenever she felt like she needed some extra help to stay sober

once the couple both neared their mid 60s, they were so close to Van that leaving the farm in her hands only felt natural, they didnt have any children of their own, so she was the closest thing to a daughter they ever got and trusted her to take care of their beloved spot of land well and to eventually leave it to someone else whod keep that tradition up as well (at first she felt unworthy, incapable, but they convinced her and urged her to do whatever she pleased with her little spot in the world, expressing how grateful they were for the years shed spent with them, having given them a chance to feel like someones parents later in life)

Van decided to work with groups that use animal therapy to help people who are in a tough spot in one way or another, people in rehab or people who deal with either mental or physical pain that might be eased for while by having close contact to horses - she knows first-hand what caring for animals can do for a person who is struggling with self-worth, shame, or chronic pain, so she always makes a point of inviting those groups to her farm, making it a safe haven in a way, she also lets riding instructors teach their classes there

she makes money by letting people keep their horses in the stables, taking care of them, so people can come by whenever they want to ride them, she also sells some of her produce to surrounding farmers markets, its not a ton of money but more than enough to get by and live a comfortable life

how you started dating

your college town is near her farm and you decided to stay there during summer because the season is beautiful out there and its enough for you to back to your hometown for a few weeks during August before the next semester starts

one day you were a bit reckless and walked out further beyond the town limits than you usually did because the weather was so nice and you wanted to see some some pretty fields, but you underestimated the heat and had to take a break somewhere because you were afraid you might pass out and couldnt just turn around and walk all the way back

the tree you decided to take shelter under for a moment was right at the entrance of Vans farm and she come out to check on you because she saw you sitting there in the midday heat and got worried that something was wrong or that someone might have ditched you by the side of the road, since she wasnt used to having strangers wandering around out there

you were a bit embarrassed at first when she she said "hey there, you okay?" but you she was sweet from the get-go, joking around a bit, asking you what on earth made you come out there in that intense weather, gently chastising you for your lack of drinks and snacks, she ended up urging you to come inside and rest and cool down, to eat and drink something so you could regain your strength before going back home

you got along immediately, it took less than a few minutes for you to talk about anything and everything as she prepared some iced coffee, iced tea, and fresh blueberry pancakes for you - you told her again and again that she was being way too nice but Van insisted and told you that she spent more than enough time on her own, so once you werent hungry or thirsty anymore and seemed more lively again, she gave you a tour of and introduced you to her cats which was a sure way to get you to stay for longer (maybe that was calculated on her part)

after a while of you laughing and enjoying your time together, she offered to drive you back to your place and gave you a little pot of homemade jam to try as a parting gift, a raspberry vanilla mix that tasted divine and was your breakfast of choice for the coming days. as you said goodbye that night in the car parked outside your house she said "come by whenever you want, really, you dont even have to ring, just walk around to the porch and I will be around somewhere" which felt like flirting, not just southern hospitality, so you promised that you would take her up on it, your skin tingling where her arms rested when you said goodbye, her voice a bit strained when she told you goodbye, as if she was flustered from embracing someone that way, a sign that it had been a while maybe, a sudden rush of hope on your part that she wasnt seeing anyone, that you werent delusional to think that she might have been less friendly with strangers who didnt intrigue her, who werent as easy on the eyes to her..

she’d confess to you a while later that she didnt give you her number or asked for yours because she knew that shes a horrible texter and enjoyed the idea of being surprised by another visit by you, she also liked the vibe of leaving the ball entirely in your court, the fact that she had no way of reaching out to you and had to trust that you would keep your connection going (this same energy is palpable whenever she waits for you to come and touch her, she loves pushing your patience to make you initiate intimacy, even when its just a hug, thats her preferred way of teasing)

for the next few days you couldnt get her out of your head and kept clinging to the memory of how hot shed looked: dressed in a white tank-top and jeans that were cut off at the knee, working boots and white socks, her bronzed heavily freckles skin glowing in the midday sun, just like her wavy hair that seemed to burn like flames in that light, her cheeks and lips rosy from the heat, her voice raspy and low, her calves toned, just like her shoulders and arms... you remembered how your knees had touched when you sat outside on the steps together for a moment, how your fingers had brushed when shed handed you a glass, how shed looked at you while you ate the food shed made you, attentive, curious, and intense, like she was holding something back, the same way you had been. it was torture. you couldnt stop obsessing over every little look shed given you, everything shed said, reading into all of it until you were certain you werent just imagining the instant chemistry

after a few days of holding back, you couldnt wait any longer and went back to her place, and just as you stepped into her house it started thundering and pouring rain, which immediately made the atmosphere intimate and private as she lit some candles and put on all the warm orange tinted lamps to offer a contrast to the dark storm outside - you played it cool at first, but it was clear that you hadnt just come back for no reason, and the tension made both of you a little nervous at first, thrilled too though, pleased by the sense of "she feels the same way, doesnt she?"

one thing lead to another, some jokes at first, then more earnest words, you confessing "I thought of you a lot the past few days, you were so sweet to me" her brushing it off "basic decency" you caving and coming to sit next to her, a pleading look on your face, a bit of fear on hers, held breaths, beating hearts, soft eyes, you taking the leap, kissing her eagerly until she gently broke it and needed a second to breathe, to calm her burning nerves, so you told her to keep touching you, to just keep her hands on you, so she did, grabbing at you until she was ready to continue, dying to - a switch flipped in her when she felt you going slack in her embrace, sighing from the feel of her palms on your back, your arms, your face, a bruising kiss from her that quickly turned into more and more and until your clothes were scattered next to the couch and the rain kept clashing against the windows as you got lost in each other, kissing and touching and grinding up against each other, making each other come just from a few touches, using your burst of passion and intense sensitivity to each others presence to keep going and going, finally ending up in her bed, making out for ages, taking turns making each other moan and surrender

that night you slept over and the next morning you laughed about how cliché it was for her to invite you to move in for the summer before even having gone on a proper date, but! you couldnt have cared less, you were so overjoyed at the idea, both of you agreeing that it would be unnecessary to make you take the drive over to her place every day (she had no idea what got into her when she just straight up asked you if you wanted her to help you get some of your stuff so you could stay with her as long as you wanted because it had been so long since shed: a) had anything romantic going on b) had sex with someone and c) didnt shudder at the idea of sharing her space with a lover, quite the opposite, that first morning she woke up to the sight of you there in her bed, all peaceful and content and warm to the touch, she wondered how shed gone all those years without it

sfw

Van quickly comes to love the feeling of never knowing when she might turn a corner and see you laying in the sun on a blanket, in your bikini or underwear, tanning, or reading, or napping - she always stops in her tracks and takes a moment to just look at you while youre blissfully unaware, until the urge to touch takes over - unlike others, shed never think its funny to startle you by splashing water on you or taking your headphones off or anything, shes as gentle as possible, always, either lowering herself until she can press a soft kiss to your back, or picking a flower to lightly sweep over your arm <3 you usually pull her down onto the blanket and get all over her to keep her from walking away and continuing her work, which shes helpless against, shes never denied you, not once, always caving

loveees seeing you in her clothes! when you put a flannel of hers over your shoulders if it gets a bit chilly at night, or when you jokingly try on her working boots, she lets you steal whatever you want from her wardrobe and has a particular thing for seeing you in jeans of hers that are a bit too lose on you because theyre worn out, when you kneel down and she can see your underwear peeking out at the top... you wont stay in those jeans for too long, lets put it that way.

shes always been good about sun screen, its the one self-care aspect she never abandoned even during her worst times, but! she usually never splurged on the expensive kind, she used generic cheap sun screen until you started dating and you gave her some fancier kind, selfishly picking a scented one, a mix of vanilla and coconut because you knew it would mix very well with her sweat while working and the tabacco when she smokes - you also help her apply it, its ritual she came to cherish deeply, the way you carefully apply it not just on her face and arms but where she cant reach, always savoring the feeling of your palms massaging the creme into her back because she used to have to bend herself herself into a pretzel to apply it to her shoulder blades and the surrounding area (you dont care that it tastes bitter when you kiss her on her freshly lotioned nose <3)

when Ethel Cain said "he looks like he works with his hands and smells like Marlboro Reds" yeah thats her… the cigs are her little vice that she allows herself to keep, she doesn’t chain smoke, it’s more of a relaxation thing, usually not more than two a day, sometimes she also goes a while without any, and you dont convince her to quit because she looks too hot smoking 💘 you love those warm late nights where you sit on the porch together, your legs on her lap, her free hand massaging you as she stares off into the distance and smokes (you also got her nice lighter at the thrift store, gold with an etching of a pin-up model, it was more of a joke but she loves it)

for obvious reasons she much prefers cats over dogs and when you started dating one of her cats was heavily pregnant, so you ended up staying in the barn with her for an entire night when the cat gave birth to make sure it all went well, to see that the kittens were all healthy, and it made her fall for you even more, the care and adoration with which you handled the little babies and soothed the mother after she gave birth to all three of them, she also let you pick the names <3 you love to joke by saying "she’s stealing my spot" whenever one of the kittens crawls up onto her chest

Van always relies on her lovers to braid her hair! whenever shes single, she just accepts the fact that her hair wont be braided until someone does it for her again, she likes being incompetent that way, she mentioned it off-handedly that she cant braid her hair at her grown age, and you took the bait immediately, offering to style it any way she wants, a smug grin on her face when you first gently parted her hair into three even strands and gave her exactly what she wanted, that soothing feeling of having her love rake her fingers through her hair, her favorite part is when youre done fuss with her front pieces a bit to make it look more effortless and natural, shes pliant as hell, lets you do whatever you want (her mommy issues havent gone away, even in her forties it does make her blush when she sits between your legs and feels you tighten her braid the way a mother might)

speaking of hair: she doesnt trust hair dressers with her hair at all because shes way too scared that theyll take off too much or give her weird layers, so she usually did an okay job cutting her own split-ends, but you decided to buy actual hair-cutting scissors and looked up a few tutorials until you felt prepared enough and gave her a nice trim, taking about half an hour to really make sure all the strands flow nicely together, and she loves it, shes gone so long without getting her hair cut by someone else that it makes the whole thing feel super intimate - also, she loves that you picked up on the fact that her hair is the one and only aspect about her appearance where she embraces a kind of femininity, its her one point of true vanity, and you taking care of it fore her is very pleasing to Van as someone who knows that people usually focus on her more masculine traits when they call her hot, warms her heart that you take care of her hair like its your own :)

youll often cut up some fruit for her or bring her a bottle of cold water when shes been out in the soon for a little too long, its a simple thing but she remembers how it was to never have anyone do those little things for her, its special for her and makes the work feel a little easier on her not-super-young bones <3

she has a medium sized tattoo on her left hipbone that she got in her 20s and for the longest time she hated it because she didnt have enough money back then to get it done by an actually good artist, so the lines are kinda faded over time, but.. once you started dating, she realized how hot you think its looks, so she started using it to tease you, relentlessly, stretching her arms over her head on purpose so her shirt rides up and you can see the top of the tattoo peeking out above her waistband, more times than not youll get handsy with her and pay her back for tempting you (as if that wasnt her goal all along)

for a long time her polaroid camera just collected dust but one day she got the urge to take pictures of you around the farm, which started out innocent at first (you caressing the horses, laying in the sun, leaning against the fence, picking berries) but it quickly turned more and more erotic, you shed your clothes, she took some pics of you in your underwear, you convinced her to caress your face and put her thumb in your mouth while taking a picture of that, which got her good, so eventually you abandoned all shame and told her to get some milk so she could pour it in your open mouth and over your chest and take a picture of that, you in the grass.. kneeling... eyes closed.. mouth open.. milk dripping down your chin... shameless vulgarity, but so incredibly hot to her that she ended up putting the camera down and licking you clean. both of you laughing in the grass afterwards once you realized what you just did (she keeps a few of those pictures on her wallet, old fashioned romance is her thing sometimes)

she taught you how to properly ride a horse and definitely almost had a heart attack the first few times your horse picked up the pace, she always makes sure youre safe - you sometimes take the horses to a nearby forest and leisurely ride through it, slowly, chatting and laughing and holding hands whenever your horses are close enough to do that (you also fore sureee convince her to take you out on her horse sometimes, you love holding onto her waist and resting your head on her back)

her farm is so lush and rich in color during spring and early summer!💐 flowers of all kinds bloom all over the place, and before you were dating she never bothered to pick some of them for inside decor, felt kinda silly to her as the only one living in her house, she was never the type to play homemaker just for the sake of it, but you lovee picking little bouquets for her, you always take note of which flowers she points at and calls pretty, so next time you gather more of that kind, it became a sweet ritual for you to put little vases with all kinds of wildflowers around the house and she for sure dried the first bouquet you ever made for her and keeps it on her dresser or pressed in a book <3

one of your favorite things to do with her is to go out for a big dinner after shes been working hard all day! shell be starving by that time, so nothing feels better to her than sitting down at her favorite sandwich shop or restaurant or fast food chain and devouring a greasy salty comfort meal - I think she fucks with veggie burgers when theyre drenched in good sauce, pizza with a good amount of toppings, spicy too, I think shed dip everything in hot sauce, shed also love mexican food I think like a good burrito with a bunch of fresh ingredients and chips and salsa on the side, anything thats savory and mixes a bunch of textures! you dont do it too often because she does try to eat rather healthy but once or twice a week you both need it and cherish it, you will sit there for a while just eating and chatting and sharing a bunch of side dishes, people watching or gossiping, her giving you inside scoop when she sees a familiar face, making small talk here and there while referring to you as her "friend" even though nobodys naive enough to believe that thats all you are, still, she likes being coy about it

you realize that all the people who own her favorite spots know and love her, so they give her bigger servings and drinks on the house, which you benefit from as well ;)

if you have a difficult relationship with food or simply dont take good enough care of yourself diet wise, thats gonna be taken care of with her, always - Van prides herself on her harvest of fruits and veggies, the time and care she puts in them each season, she collects fresh eggs from her chickens, bakes her own bread, makes a beautiful summer salad that she perfected over the years with some strawberry slices and honey vinegar dressing and a bunch of different greens and cucumber to make it fresh and delicious, among other recipes that she makes you try and approve of - you eat wellll and healthy with her, and you take up baking because you wanna repay her for her cooking and know that she has a sweet tooth! she also keeps fresh home-made iced tea and a bunch of other beverages that you both enjoy in the fridge at all times when its hot and keeps reminding you to drink, you wont be dehydrated on her watch!

when she was younger it was a sign of luxury to her when she was over at a friends house and their family had Ben and Jerrys ice cream instead of the no-name brands, so as an adult she likes buying all those little things that used to seem expensive to her, and you two sometimes share a pot on particularly hot days, trying all the flavors and rating them, you kept a sheet with the scores, and its a thing she looks look forward to, going to the store and picking your flavor for the night <3 (she’s partial to anything with caramel and doesnt really care much for the ones that are heavy on the chocolate, prefers the creamy vanilla bases ones, she also always lets you scoop out the last few bites, whereas you let her have the first few spoonfuls (you also like to fuck with her by kissing her while you still have some ice cream in your mouth and transfer it onto her tongue with a sloppy kiss, she pretends its nasty but shes turned on by it, every time)

she likes to pretend shes a grumpy anti-tech country woman who hates all things pop culture but she does love that youre teaching her things here and there about whats going on, shes been so out of touch with everything that its fun for her to have someone there who gets a kick out of trying to explain a new slang term to her or a trend thats happening on social media or gossip about celebrities (you sometimes jokingly speak in a way that sounds obnoxious and like something a teenager on tiktok would say just to watch her give you a look of utter confusion and disbelief, like telling her that she has "rizz" when she says something smooth, laughing when she says "jesus christ do I even wanna know what that means...")

even though shes worked with animals for years and years it never got easier for her to watch any of them suffer, shes a huge softie! none of them are "just" animals to her, ever, doesnt matter if its a horse or a cow or a chicken or animals that arent "hers" but live around the farm like little mice or birds, she always feels her heart shatter when one of the animals gets sick or needs medicine or a visit from the vet, she keeps it together on the outside but youve consoled her a few times when she was scared that an animal might not make it or be in too much pain - she also still tears up whenever she talks about her cat who passed away five years ago, she still misses her sometimes and youre the first person shes shared that grief with bc she feels safe with you, its nice for her not to shed her tears in the dark by herself when shes scared of a possible loss or feels haunted by yelps that a sick animal made, you always reassure her that shes doing her best and that any animal would be lucky to end up there with her <3

loves to make you do little physical tasks with her so she can watch you struggle with something thats muscle memory for her, its very amusing to her when you get pissed off and start groaning and eventually give up and tell her to do it by herself because youre clearly too slow with it, shell say things like "come on, lets put those young bones to good use" and gesture at you to follow her and you always act like a petulant child even though you clearly love being bosses around by her and watching her be much better at whatever it is that youre doing together, sometimes youll just sit and blatantly stare at her while shes doing strenuous work so you can watch her break a sweat and jokingly cat-call her

she keeps to herself but she built strong connections with a good amount of people in the area over the years, so shes never truly isolated or unable to require help when she needs, people know they can count on her and that shes about as reliable as they come, so she often comes home with a basket of fresh peaches or a few bottles of freshly made syrup or coffee grounds because people like her and treat her like a daughter/sister/friend depending on how old they are (I like to think theres a mutual aid sentiment that she sticks to, shell give money where she can to those who need it because theyve also helped her out before)

on that note, she is usually way too stubborn to ask for support but if you get sick, she calls some people who can help her around the farm, so she has the time to tend to you and doesnt have to leave you alone in bed all day <3

you offer her massages whenever she seems a bit tense or worn out, sometimes youll just come up behind her and start massaging her neck and shell say "baby im okay really" at first, but then audibly gasp as you knead away some tension, melting under your touch and making little "hmm" sounds

she loves ending her day by sitting on the couch with you and watching a show or a film together while snuggling, she used to spend all of her nights alone, so the simple act of eating dinner together and then watching something with you is a luxury to her that she savors every time <3

you convince her to venture out a bit more than she usually did, so you end up taking little trips to more urban cities nearby (ones that are 1-3 hours away) and have fun days there, trying out cafes and restaurants, browsing through stores, getting some clothes (you know she likes brands like Carharrt and splurge on stuff here), getting drinks if you stay until nightfall, watching movies at the cinema, or just walking around and seeing where the day takes you

during the road trips you are in charge of the aux because her music is too depressing for summer days.. she has no idea how to curate a playlist thats lighthearted and fun, so she leaves it to you (I can see her enjoying it when you blast like an Oasis song that she remembers from her youth and make her sing along to it because you know damn well she remembers the lyrics)

also! you love to fuck with her by putting the most vulgar rap you can find on full volume, blasting lyrics that make her look at you in shock while asking “is this what you fucking listen to?? really?" only half-serious about it, you catch her smiling when shes imagining herself in the place of the guy saying out of pocket shit about his girl

you like to do the laundry because you never got to hang it up to dry in a beautiful spot of land like that before - it feels cinematic to you in a way when youre standing there clipping your shirts to the clothesline with the wind blowing in your hair and the horses nearby, but! Van does the laundry that has to be hand-washed, she likes the attentive act of getting out all the little stains in clothes that are too delicate for the washing machine, she has her tricks to get even the most annoying red sauce stains out, and she also has a thing for washing your underwear, something about washing her lovers intimate clothes is very romantic to her, so you let her do it even though you were a bit embarrassed about it at first

regardless of your usual style you started dressing a bit more "country" to fit her vibe and it’s hot to her - she likes when you thrift stuff like white linen dresses or shorts, cowboy boots, belts with bigger brass buckles, you always ask her for her opinion and maybe drag her to the store with you so she can decide what you try out next (she’d make you get a skimpy bikini for lake days, for sure, you’d be like "this is too much...." and she’d just say "not in my eyes" and buy it for you)

loveees to share all of her knowledge with you but in a teasing way, she likes to play teacher and make you memorize the names of plants and flowers, so she can randomly point at one and ask "whats that one called again, hm?" fully aware that you forgot, repeating it to you and asking again the next day, which makes you shove her and roll your eyes but shell press for an answer like "I didnt hear you baby"

you introduce her to the app that can identify all kinds of bird calls and she gets over her skepticism really fast and becomes obsessed with it, whenever youre in the forest by the lake or just out in nature and she hears an unfamiliar call she gets so thrilled when the app shows her a picture of the bird shes hearing, and she definitely makes you remember the names of her favorite birds and gets offended when you forget them, drilling you like a teacher until theyre seared into your brain

she knows from her own experience that the best way to beat a depressive mood is to get outside and find something to do, so whenever she can tell that youre feeling a bit off or blue she makes you follow her somewhere so she can try and cheer you up :) one afternoon when you were kinda sad she took you cherry-picking and lifted you up on her shoulders so you could reach all the cherries further up and your mood switched completely without you even being conscious of it, she’s great at coaxing joy out of you whenever you need it

in general you felt your nervous system recover from any stress you mightve dealt with before during those days where your senses were never overstimulated by too much noise or too many people around or a lack of access to fresh air and pretty nature, she never outright said it but she definitely kept her eye on you and made sure you felt better than you did when shed first met you, even just sitting in the grass and feeling the earth beneath you and hearing the natural noise of the farm for a few minutes often helps you unwind and relax 🕊️

you know from what she told you about her past that she never got to be carefree as a kid/teenager, that she had to grow up way too fast, so you make her do little things with you that girls might do at sleepovers, like putting on face masks or playing online games or buying little arts and crafts kits to make each other keychains and! you convince her to get one of the mystery boxes with little figurines in them like those sylvanian family animals, which you end up keeping on the windows isle, adding to them whenever you indulge in the frivolous joy of ripping open a package without knowing which little creature youll get (shes the type to put on a poker-face or make sarcastic remarks during the whole thing to disguise how much fun shes actually having)

master of home remedies! whether its a rash or a burn or a cut, she knows exactly what salve or creme to apply, she has a bunch of teas for any kind of ailment, stomach pain, period cramps, headaches, she knows how to dress any kind of wound (because shes had to patch herself up, many times) so any kind of pain youre in, shes gonna do her very best to relieve you of it (not just by giving you head, although thats always worth a try, to her)

shes somehow alwaaays chewing on something, either gum, or tooth picks, or even just random pieces of grass (which you make fun of her for, lovingly) its pretty rare that she goes a whole day without reaching for something to mindlessly chew on (one time you offered her your finger and said "if you need to always have something in your mouth... here" and she swatted your hand away and told you off but the blush on her face betrayed her because she does love to have your fingers in her mouth, she cant help it)

loves to kiss you on your hands/knuckles, the chivalrous feel of it, the devotion, its just a go-to move for her and you never ever tire of it or lose those butterflies you felt the first time she did it

her other favorite places to kiss on your body while youre not undressed are your cheeks and your shoulders!

sometimes she worries that youll get bored of spending all your days out there with her so she makes it clear that shed drive you to a friends place and be fine with it if you needed a few a days away (blatant lie, she wouldnt be fine) but you make it clear that youre not interesting in going anywhere, unless its together with her! you love your new routine of having time to yourself in the house or outside until shes done working and you spend the rest of the day together

she might be sober but she’ll gladly make you a nice cocktail or buy you a drink every once in a while because she thinks its very cute when youre tipsy and get even more touchy-feely and affectionate with her than usual

you like to spoil her by giving her hands some love, she uses them so much that she needs to use very moisturizing thick cremes and youll take some of that and massage her hand and and really make sure it seeps into her skin, sometimes shell just lay in bed at night and let you work away at her hands as she almost dozes off from how good it feels <3

nsfw

one might think she has less energy when shes been working hard all day but its actually the opposite, whenever shes breathing heavy and sweating and her blood is rushing from the strain of the heat combined with her physical work, she is so easily turned on by the sight of you, its primal in way, so sometimes when she comes inside all dirty and sweaty and flushed you can tell just from the look she gives you that youre about to be ruined (she will drag you to bed, tear your clothes off and lick and kiss and bite you all over, she gets so into it so fast that all you can do is lay back and make pretty sounds for her as she gets all the pent up energy out of her system, which is a new pleasure for her, the pleasure after-work sex)

shes a very even mix of gentle and aggressive! even though shes much stronger than you, she doesnt get off on the idea of domination, it turns her on way more to think that she is your protector when you when youre having sex, while youre in your most vulnerable state, it turns her on to know that she can hold you in a way that makes you feel weak and eager to sink deeply into that weakness, always gripping you and handling you with a firmness that feels caring and loving no matter how nasty the sex is (she could be in the middle of losing her mind while deep inside you but shed never let that lust and hunger turn her careless or too harsh, you know youll never feel used with her, no matter how hard you fuck, its always tinged with tenderness)

shes strong. very strong….shes been handling animals who weigh much more than the average human for years and when you first started dating you definitely felt a rush when she first grabbed you and you felt the sheer strength of her, it drove you crazyyy to feel how easy it was for her to pull you onto her lap or flip you over or carry you around 😵‍💫

at first, she held back, but when you told her that you trust her and want her to really make you feel how strong she is, she started to get into it during sex, holding you in place or wrapping her arms around you so tight and firm that you mightve just come from that sensation alone... she has stamina that never runs out and prides herself on it, but! when youre giving... its over. doesnt matter how physically strong she is, how firm her muscles are, shes so sensitive to your touch that all of her strength melts away that moment your touch your tongue to her or feel her up or fuck her, shes definitely less composed when youre inside of her than you are when shes in you, she whines and moans so intensely...

shes for sureee big into overstimulation, shes an eager giver when she tops, through and through, so she’ll keep going and going until youre shaking and sweating through the sheets, never in a way that’s punishing, always kissing and caressing you all the way through, whispering sweet things as you come for the fourth or fifth time and eventually tap out, laying on top of her, both of you drenched head to toe but so satisfied, so in love, dozing off until an hour later when you clean up and devour some good food together <3

her sex-drive is prettyyy high but its a consistent thing so she’ more of a "whenever youre down, im down, just tell me" type of person, whereas your bursts of desire are more intense and out of the blue, youre more needy and desperate with it, which works out well because sometimes shell just sit back and wait for you to come onto her, aware that it hardly ever takes long for you to get gripped by a feeling of "i need her now or ill die"

will take risks when it comes to having sex outside, any time, its her property, her land, so she will use it as she sees fit, which includes having you wherever and whenever you two feel like it - it’s rare that youre actually in danger of having someone walk up and see you, but it’s definitely happened once or twice that you lost track of time while messing around in the stables and someone quickly turned back around while coughing loudly to signal to you "wrap it up, people are coming", which always makes her feel kind of smug, the fact that people know damn well how lucky she is, having a girl like you to pull into a stack of hay, savoring the sweet dusty smell of the surroundings mixed with the taste of you while she hikes up your dress or pulls down your shorts and gives you head right there <3

it was a huge fantasy of hers, to have a lover that way, so sometimes you leave the stables with visible prints on your ass and thighs where they hay dug in, picking it off your clothes with her help, shaky legs as you leave her to deal with the people who came to ride their horses, a smile from her when she sees you struggling to walk straight as you go inside to freshen up (or jerk off, to finish what she started, telling her about it afterwards to make her get off to the idea of you in her bed touching yourself while she was outside being all professional..)

she can never ever get enough of seeing you on top of her!!whether it’s you riding her fingers or her strap, grinding down against her thigh, she doesn’t care how, all she wants is to see you lose yourself on her, she’s obsessed... 🫠

also, when shes the one fucking you, you both love using the furniture.. you bent over the kitchen table, one leg propped up on a chair so she has good access, her chest flush against your back, her kissing your neck as she holds you with her arm around your waist and gives to you from the back.. fucking you like that until she turns you back around to have you lay back and relax on the table as she finishes you off, really making use of the steady wooden table when youre squirming and losing it..

early morning sex 💘 she usually wakes up naturally around between 5 and 6 am because as a farmer her days always start pretty early and she loves when you stir and smile at her, still half-asleep and and all cozy and soft, it makes her wanna spoil you, so you often wake up to her gently moving your blanket away, so she can caress you and kiss your body and give you head, nothing too overwhelming, but enough to give you the kind of orgasm that makes you fall right back asleep all satisfied and limp and dazed from the feeling of being half-lucid half-dreaming while she ate you out

youll sleep for two more hours or so while she already gets to work, until you get up and prepare some coffee for her, so she usually takes her first break around 9am and has breakfast with you! you sometimes like to repay her for the way she woke you up by getting on your knees in front of her chair and taste her until she cant take it anymore and gets back up to continue her work, a bit scared she might mishandle a tool with the fresh memory of you looking up at her with a slick chin making her all weak and dizzy..

spit. shes more filthy than she is kinky, give her some intense loving passionate sex with a lot of spit involved and shes over the moon, loves when you spit in her mouth and then kiss her afterwards, when you lick over her chest or neck and leave a glistening trail where your tongue traveled up, when you suck on her fingers to lube them up before she fingers you or jerks you off, when you give her strap sloppy head before taking it all the way in with ease because youre so turned on and it is so wet with your saliva, loves when you let your spit drool onto her cunt before you eat her out 💞

very into sensuality in general, she could spend hours just lazily playing with your pussy and feeling you get wetter and wetter without ever getting bored, she loves to just feel you, having you sit comfortably as she switches between rubbing your clit, your whole outside area, teasing your entrance, and fingering you, shes in love with your cunt and wont ever turn down the chance to just hear you whimper and whine as you relax with your legs spread while she watches your pussy swell and get wet and take her fingers - will coo at you and kiss you wherever she can reach as she tells you how good you feel, will keep it up for as long as you want and you love those moments when you dont feel pressured to orgasm because she loves touching you just for the sake of it, not to get an ego-boost from making you cum (even though she always does, youre too in love with her not to drench her fingers when shes teasing you like that and whispering in your ear)

if you squirt... yeah shes licking it all up and doing exactly what she did before to try and make it happen again, as I said shes filthyyy 😵‍💫 would get so turned on from the sight of you ruining her sheets, would shush you if you apologized and insist that you never ever hold back even if it means she has to do laundry more than usual

her tits are a weak spot, super sensitive </3 her nipples will get hard if the wind blows a little too strong... and before dating you she kinda ignored her chest for the most part but with you she rediscovered the thrill of having her tits sucked while being pleased, sometimes you’ll randomly push her onto the couch and lift up her shirt to kiss her chest just to hear her moan for a few seconds, a little treat for yourself (and her) during the day

vocal. so fucking vocal. she can never ever keep quiet and you only go harder whenever you can tell that shes trying to stifle the sounds, you want them all out in the open, and it usually takes very little time for her to lose her composure which she gets embarrassed by for sure, once the orgasm subsides shes like oh... great. I sounded like ive never had sex in my life. yet again. perfect. but you loveee it, its so hot to you that this woman who is usually perceived as tough and strong and reserved is such a mess in bed

shes spent many years with her beloved truck and for the longest time she had fantasies about fucking in there, which came true once you started dating <3 you love straddling her in her seat when youre parked somewhere secluded, or when you come home from a late night drive, youve definitely fucked in the backseat a few times when she drove you out to a lake or a nice spot where nobody else was around, you both get a thrill out of it, the leather seats, the semi-public feel of it all, the risk factor, the way the car kinda smells like sex when you drive home afterwards (you also love to gawk at her when shes fixing the truck, makes her take her sweet time with it)

loves pillow talk and savoring the post-sex glow, its something she never rushes or skips, shes will move you onto her chest and caress your back or let you lay where you are and kiss your body, eventually resting her head on your stomach so you can stroke her hair, or youll just wrap your arms around each other and stay like that for a while

that post on here thats like "dont shave your bush I will kill myself" thats something she might actually say bc she is for sure soo into bush its one of the most erotic things to her, everything about it, she loves when it tickles her nose, loves the soft feel of it when she puts her hands in your underwear to jerk you off, loves the look of it when you get dressed and your underwear is see-through enough for your bush to peek through, hottt as hell to her

if youre the type to wear lingerie, she’d be very into it, never takes it for granted - one of the hottest things ever to her is when her girl wears clothes that are not what you’d consider fancy or special while wearing the most beautiful, delicate underwear, the contrast kills her every time, the sight of a nice lacy bra peeking out of a tank top that you stole from her... phewww shes on her knees. immediately. same thing with panties, she always interrupts you when youre getting dressed to admire you when youre wearing nothing but a pair of lacy underwear, also loves when you wear regular comfortable cotton underwear, the sight of it wedged between your cheeks somehow makes her wanna take a chunk out of your ass every time.. also loves you in her boxers. everything really, shes a lover of whatever you have going on beneath your clothes <3

face sitting. being the giver in a submissive way is so deeply satisfying for her, so shell often just ask you to ride her face, you might be lying in bed in the afternoon just relaxing kissing a little and shell straight up ask if you want to use her face for a bit, shell happily lay back and use her strength to hold you up by your waist when you get tired and cant really brace yourself against the wall/headboard that well anymore, shell take it all without ever complaining, doesnt matter if you suffocate her, drench her whole face, kinda fuck up her neck, she doesnt care, shell be too drunk on the feel and taste and sight of having you on her like that, staring up at you with glazed over eyes, maybe using one hand to jerk herself off because shes too turned on and cant take it..

maybe one time she was feeling wild and told you to do it while you were wearing a dress outside, her just laying down on the lawn and telling you do it right there bc you could climb off her fast if someone did happen to come around the corner - again, she might be private and reserved but being caught isnt really an issue for her, shed just be like "and what. I will have my girl the way I want when I want, deal with it."

didnt use any toys on her own but can definitely get down with them when its with you! I think she might be too shy to suggest this but she’d absolutely lose her mind if she saw you riding a toy to get off, like you straddling it on her bed to give her the chance to see you from whatever angle she wants, unlike when youre riding her and she cant see you from far away etc. - I also think shes the type of lover who wants to know/see how you masturbate, or how you did it before you met her, its such a private thing and I think she loves the idea of being trusted with that information <3

rediscovered her love of receiving/bottoming with you - with hookups she usually only let them do things that didnt feel too vulnerable, i dont think she let any of them see her in positions that made her feel too exposed, but with you she feels safe enough to admit that she does like being on her hands and knees, that she likes to be finger-fucked until shes near tears, that she sometimes likes to just have her face in the pillows as you eat her out or touch her from the back, its not something that happens too often bc it does require a lot of trust on her part, but when shes really horny and youre being sweet and kissing her all over to get her worked up shell sometimes cave and beg you to just do whatever you want and get rough with her

especially with a younger partner shes turned on by the idea that someone who has less experience can ruin her like that, its a nice secret to have because she knows a lot of people would look at a lesbian who looks like her and assume that shes a top, but shes a switch through and through, would never give up one or the other

she wears a thin gold chain that she hardly ever takes off, so sometimes when youre fucking it dangles over your face, or you pull her in for a kiss by gently tugging at it <3

one time you found a playboy from her exact birth year and month at the antique book/magazine store and brought it home for her, which was more of a silly present but she did find it sweet/hot and left it on the coffee table as decor (you made her flip through it with you and teased her by pointing out which models you assumed she found the hottest, which she shut down by saying "well I would do the same to you right now but theyre all like what.. twenty years too young for you?", so you doubled-down and said "oh dont flatter yourself, I like women my age too", so she did briefly have a fantasy of you getting with a girl your own age as she watches you two, which struck a nerve, but she kept that to herself, at least for the time being..)

youre obsessed with her physique because she has the distinct shape of someone who earned their muscles through hard work, who didnt try to grow them out of a need to become as big as possible but who genuinely needs to be strong to do their daily tasks, so her muscles are not cartoonish or over the top, she just has a firmness to her stomach and thighs and back thats hottt as hell to you, her abs are subtle but theyre there, and your absolute weak spot: her V-line. when shes wearing a shirt thats too short to cover up the spot right above her pants and you can see those lines that lead down into her underwear.. it’s over. youre staring shamelessly, and she pretends she doesnt notice but she loveees it, shell lay back and stretch out her legs and count you gawking at the sight of her exposed stomach 😵‍💫

sometimes when shes tired she’ll just lay flat on her back on the bed, arms and legs spread out and let you crawl all over her, feel her up, do whatever the fuck you want, shes happy to just lay there and take it all, so you usually spoil her and kiss and touch her all over before getting to anything more intense, straddling her, playing with her hair, teasing her, kissing her neck, massaging her, biting her, you know she loves being trapped and helpless while shes exhausted and eager to be showered in affection <3

the first time you were with her when she said "good girl" to her horse you grinned and asked "who, me or her?", so she shot you a smug look and said "what are you doing right now thats praise worthy, hm?" but she definitely took note of it and brought it up later on in bed, which did make her say it less to her horse from that point on (oops..)

one time during your first weeks of dating you couldnt ride your designated horse because you were too sore from the night before and the friction hurt too badly.. she felt a little guilty so she kissed it better after she couldnt help but laugh when you climbed off and said "yeah not today, no fucking way" while pointing between your legs

loves having her hair pulled, sometimes she puts her hair up in a ponytail during sex just so you can easily tug on it to bend her neck and kiss her skin there <3

if you 69 she is always the one whose face is getting smothered, always, she wouldn’t like it if it was the other way around, but every once in a while when youre both in heat and desperate to fuck the other person, she’ll eat you out while you’re trying to hold your hips up over her mouth while you’re jerking her off/struggling to taste her bc of your moaning </3, you both love orgasming at the same time, being together in that state of helplessness, it’s something you crave

if you lost your virginity to her, I think shed offer for you to do something to her that nobody has ever done before to make it kind of even that way, its mostly her way of adding to the sentiment of "I want us to be equals" because she never wants you to feel like shes eager to overpower you or see you as a girl she gets to "corrupt", maybe you laid in bed once and she told you this and she took a moment too long to try and think of something that no lover has ever done to her so you jokingly said "whore." - but youre creative, so you definitely found things that you would be her "first" for

if youre feeling freaky hear me out.. maybe youre the first to ever put your whole hand inside of her. would take a good amount of patience and lubrication but I can see her getting off on it sooo intensely once you manage to slip all of your fingers inside of her... you staring in awe and telling her how hot it feels, and slowly, very slowly, moving your hand a bit.. I think being so full of her lover would ruin her so hard. and she’d be turned on from knowing that none of her longtime girlfriends ever got to do it to her. anway.

her sexual preferences always depends on yours in the sense that she wants to know what you need and then give it to you, if you just want your brains fucked out she’ll gladly give in, if you want to pleasure her without being touched in return shes down as well, if you want both shes never gonna deny you, which means! that when she does allow herself to take charge every now and then by manhandling you and telling you "come here" or "lay back" it ruins you because youre not used to it, she looves the look you get when she decides to be a bit rough for once

to put it plainly: your pleasure is her pleasure, always!

thats all for now! feel free to let your own imagination fill in the rest 💌

[phantomfairs]

“Hey! Watch where you drive, you almost hit us!”

“That’s him…that’s the king!”

“Dash…?”

Candy was so gonna hit Vanellope before Dash jumped in the way. He wasn’t expecting to see his old racing partner protecting the little glitch that haunts his game. He swerved out of their way, skidding just shy of hitting a candycane tree but his eyes stayed trapped on Dash. He could feel his code shiver, the code he kept buried under this sugary frosting. “What are you doing here? You don’t belong in this game.” Candy could see the kid in Dash’s arms curl further into him and felt anger bubble just under his mask. He wanted her away from him.

[lilithknoxville]

Could u do a Johnny smut where her nipples are pierced and he gets turned on by it???

Barbells and Bitemarks (Johnny Knoxville x Fem! Reader) (18+!)

Summary: “What - Nipple piercings a turn on for you or somethin’?” You teased, chuckling awkwardly.

“Yes, actually.” His answer made you stop short. Your eyes raked over his face. His eyes were dark, pools of lust swimming in them. The sight alone was enough to make your knees weak, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“Wh-What?” You stammered, making him snicker. His hands, which had fallen down by his sides, came up to your shoulders.

“Do I gotta spell it out for you, doll?” Johnny’s voice dropped a couple of octaves, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smirked, “I’m into girls with piercin’s, and I’m much more into them when they’re on your gorgeous ass.”

Content Warnings: Graphic Smut, 18+, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Johnny is a massive whore here, Oral (Fem Receiving), Mild Dacryphilia, Semi Public Sex, Daddy Kink

Word Count: 4,285

AN: MY FIRST EVER ASK EEEEEEEEE!!!!! I literally wanna kiss this anon on the mouth for giving me this idea /j. Thank you so much for requesting something from me, and my inbox is ABSOLUTELY still open for more requests. I may have forty documents open of smuts but I will absolutely drop them for a request. This is high key the most fun I’ve had writing a story in a while :3 again no beta reader we die like men. Also I’m posting this at 4:00 in the morning so MANNNNNNN I’m tired. Prolly gonna pass out after this LOL. Okay here we gooooooooo! ✨

You huffed out a sigh, resting your head back against the wall you were leaned up against. Jeff’s voice droned on and on, giving information and safety on a stunt that you weren’t thrilled about being a part of. So you had tried to tune Jeff out as much as possible, but his loud and booming voice wasn’t letting you zone out. You kicked a leg over your other one, shifting uncomfortably on your feet. You looked over, seeing Johnny leaned over on the opposite wall from you. You smiled slightly, and an easy smile graced his lips as well. He pushed himself off of the wall, coming over to where you were standing. He dipped his head down, his voice hushed in your ear.

“Well ain’t you the vision of bein’ enthused?” Johnny asked, his lips quirked up in a smile. You snorted out a laugh as you looked up at him.

“I’m not exactly thrilled about being up on your shoulders, Knox. I’m fuckin’ terrified of heights, and you’re not exactly short.” You smiled at him, and he shook his head, laughing.

“I promise I ain’t gonna drop you, doll.” He gave a smile that had your stomach doing somersaults, and you growled uneasily.

“I’m holding you to that.” You wrinkled your nose, a smile on your lips, and he clapped a hand on your shoulder. Jeff’s booming voice caught your attention and you cast your gaze back towards where Jeff was standing.

“Hey lovebirds, you two wanna join our conversation?” Jeff called, and the amount of hoots and hollers from the rest of the cast had you pulling your beanie down to cover your face, “Anyways - Johnny, Bam, Ryan, and (Y/N), you guys are gonna be next up for shooting. We’re going to go ahead with Steve-O, Dave, and Ehren’s stunt.” Jeff looked down at his clipboard, nodding to cement what he had just said, “But stay on deck, I’m thinking this one’ll take about an hour. Go ahead and get changed into different clothes, and be on standby. Your guys’ stunt involves mud, and we’ve still got a whole day of shooting.” Jeff clapped his hands and you were all sent on your separate ways. You headed to the trailer they had set up specifically for you, Johnny on your heels like a lost puppy. Your feelings for Johnny were… confusing, to say the least. On one hand, he was your absolute best friend in the whole wide world; You were nothing but comfortable around him. You both laughed until you cried, leaned on the other for support, and you loved each other fiercely. On the other, you were beyond in love with him. Any laugh he gave at your jokes, any smile cast your way, and anytime he touched you (albeit all of them were innocent) lit you up from the inside out.

You entered the trailer, propping the door open with your foot as you waited for Johnny. You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he stepped into your trailer.

“You gotta follow me everywhere I go like a lovesick puppy?” You teased, watching as Johnny flopped down on the small couch set up in the trailer.

“Hey, I’m makin’ sure no one fucks with you, doll. You know how these boys are.” Johnny shrugged, resting one of his arms on the back of the couch. You rolled your eyes, leaning against the doorframe with your hands behind your back. You kicked one leg over the other, rolling your eyes hard at Johnny’s comment.

“And you act like I’m not scared to beat anyone’s ass.” You snorted out a laugh, pushing off of the wall and going to the small wardrobe that was set up for you. You looked through the clothes, humming. Each outfit was marked with a name of a stunt, and you got to the one for this stunt. It was a sheer, white tank top with jean shorts. You held it up, looking at the outfit with scrutinizing eyes.

“Really?” Johnny barked out a laugh, shaking his head, “I mean - Sex sells, but if we’re sticking our only female cast member in somethin’ like this…” He chuckled again, letting out a puff of air from his nose. There was something unreadable in his eyes, and as you stared at him, trying to figure it out, he looked away, avoiding your eyes, “I dunno what they’re thinkin’.”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” You tore your eyes away from him, rolling them hard. You heaved out a sigh, giving the outfit one last scrutinous glare, “But I don’t think I really have that much of a choice.” You hung the hanger on the back of a chair, your hands coming to your hoodie’s hem. You pulled your hoodie off over your head, but you failed to realize you had grabbed the bottom of your shirt as well. Immediately, you were standing in a sheer, lace bralette in front of Johnny.

Time seemed to freeze as his eyes raked over you - how the bralette pushed your boobs together, the black lace against your skin, and the two barbells pushed through each of your nipples. You yelped and covered your chest with your arm, your face flushing a bright red.

“Shit! I’m fucking sorry!” You cried, moving your arm from over your chest to try and get your shirt out of the hoodie. Your hands trembled as frantic apologies tumbled from your lips, when suddenly Johnny’s hands were covering yours.

You looked up to see him standing in front of you, his face the same shade of red as yours. His face was calm, however, and a smile ghosted over his lips.

“Doll, you ain’t gotta freak out.” His voice was quiet, a murmur, as he helped you pull the shirt out of the hoodie, “But when were you gonna tell me you’ve got piercings?” He asked, a wolfish grin on his lips. You smacked his arm with a hand, your other hand covering your chest with your shirt.

“You’re an ass!” You chuckled, your face still feeling warm, “What - Nipple piercings a turn on for you or somethin’?” You teased, chuckling awkwardly.

“Yes, actually.” His answer made you stop short. Your eyes raked over his face, looking for any sign he was joking, but there was nothing more than a cool smirk on his face. His eyes were dark, pools of lust swimming in them. The sight alone was enough to make your knees weak, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“Wh-What?” You stammered, making him snicker. His hands, which had fallen down by his sides, came up to your shoulders.

“Do I gotta spell it out for you, doll?” Johnny’s voice dropped a couple of octaves, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smirked, “I’m into girls with piercin’s, and I’m much more into them when they’re on your gorgeous ass.”

Your head was absolutely swimming, the thoughts swirling through your head nothing that would be considered safe for work. But Johnny’s voice brought you back down to Earth;

“Now, you gonna let Daddy see my babygirl’s piercin’s?” He purred, his hands tracing circles on your shoulders. You shuddered under his hands, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He leaned forward, dipping his head down, and captured your lips in a kiss. Immediately, all of the breath was stolen from your lungs, and your hands scrambled to his shoulders. The kiss started off as slow and soft at first, but it slowly progressed to bruising and passionate.

He growled against your lips, something primal flaring in his chest. This wasn't just some casual kiss; this was a decade of suppressed emotions and desires erupting to the surface for the both of you. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you against him firmly, as if he was afraid of you slipping away.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to tease at the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. You opened your mouth, accepting his tongue to touch around. You were secretly very thankful that he didn’t try and jam his tongue so far down your throat that you gagged. His free hand moved up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, holding you captive against him.

Finally, you broke the kiss, gasping for air. Your chest heaved with every breath you took, and your cheeks were flushed a brilliant red. You searched Johnny’s eyes for a moment, a small, breathless giggle leaving your lips. Johnny had the same breathlessness you did, his lips quirking up in a half smile.

“Well, if I didn’t know any better, doll, I’d say you’ve been waitin’ for me to do that for a while.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his hand cradling your face. You looked up at him with humor filled eyes, giggling.

“Good thing you know better, hmm?” You asked, giving him a teasing smile. His smile darkened and before you knew it, he had you up in the air, his arms locked around your waist. You squealed and giggled, as Johnny walked over to the small couch that was in your trailer.

He tossed you on the couch, your back pressed dully into the cushions. He crawled in between your legs, his face ghosting over yours. His breath was stolen from his lungs as he looked down at the goddess laid before him, your cheeks flushed the prettiest salmon. You looked up at him, pupils blown wide with lust and want. It intoxicated him in the best way possible, and it made him want more.

More he got, as your hands snaked around his neck and pulled him back down roughly. Your lips reconnected and Johnny grunted against your lips, his hands going to your hips to raise them up against him. In this new angle, you could feel the hard press of the growing bulge in Johnny’s jeans.

He pulled away from the bruising kiss, his breath fanning heavy over your face. A smile tugged at his lips, his head dipping down to your neck. Hot opened mouth kisses were pressed into your skin, the sharp edges of his teeth pressing gently into your neck. You writhed and whimpered under him, his hands tracing your sides with the softest of touches.

“This okay?” He murmured against your skin as his fingers danced at the hem of your bralette, “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah, ‘m good.” You breathed out, helping him take off your bralette. He threw it into a random corner, his hands shaking as they ghosted over your breasts.

His eyes stayed stationary on the black barbells pushed through either of your nipples. Slowly, as if he was hesitant, his hands came to your breasts, kneading them. You let out a shaky breath, your heart hammering in your chest. His nimble fingers danced over the barbells, and you sucked in a breath through your teeth.

“Yeah? Sensitive, ain’tcha?” He breathed out, his eyes flicking back and forth between your face and your breasts, “My pretty girl.” He breathed out, pressing kisses to the tops of your breasts.

His head dipped lower, his lips attaching to one of your nipples. It was like an electric current was sent through your whole body, the warm feeling of his mouth on the cold barbell made you shoot up. Your back arched, as a shaky wail came from your mouth. Johnny pulled back immediately, his face flashing with concern.

“No, no, no!” You babbled, whining deep in your throat, “Pl-Please.” You begged, your breath coming out in pathetic sounding pants.

“Well, I gotta listen when you’re beggin’ so pretty for me.” Johnny chuckled, dipping his head back down. His mouth went back to your nipple, the warm feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple making you wail again.

His hand dipped to your jeans, fumbling with the button as he tried to undo it with one hand. A huff of breath left his nose and he pulled off of your breast, focusing his attention on your jeans.

“Fuckin’ - goddamnit.” He cursed under his breath, making you giggle. You gently covered his hands with yours, helping him undo the button on your jeans, and you started to push them off of your hips. He caught the hem of your panties in his blunt nails, practically ripping both of them off of your legs. He threw both pieces of clothing to a random corner of your trailer, pushing your legs open. You tried to close your legs, a flare of embarrassment running hot through your veins, but he was much stronger than you were.

He growled, his lips kissing down your stomach, along your hip bone, tasting the cream of your skin mixed with the salt of sweat. He kissed down along your thigh, stopping just before where you needed it the most. You watched as his cheek pressed into your thigh, as he watched how you dripped and keened.

“Look at you, little one,” Johnny purred, causing you to whimper, your fingers tightening in his hair, “You got this wet just from Daddy playin’ with them sexy piercin’s?” The southern twang in his voice drove you crazy, but the fact that he bit into the soft of your thigh caused you to keen again.

“Jesus, don’t fucking tease me.” You whined, your voice coming out breathless and needy. Johnny nipped at the junction where your thigh met your pelvis, and the feeling made you shudder underneath his hands.

“You ain’t got a single idea how bad I’ve wanted you like this.” His breath fanned hot over your clammy skin, his lips kissing lower and lower until he was right above your clit, “Hearin’ you say my name like it’s the only prayer you’ve known.” He groaned, his tongue darting out and kitten licking across your clit.

His lips attached to your pussy, his tongue exploring every single part of you. You whined, throwing your head back against the couch, as his movements were slow, agonizing in the best way possible. He switched between his tongue thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy and sucking on your clit. You let out a strangled moan as he offered a hard suck of your clit.

“Goddamn, babygirl. You taste just like honey.” He grunted against you, pulling back slightly, and wetting his middle and ring finger with his own saliva, “Could spend the rest of my life right here, face pressed into this fuckin’ pussy.” He murmured, lowering his head again. His lips attached to your clit, his middle finger slowly dipping into your pussy.

You came lighting up off of the couch, wailing out his name as he curled his finger, finding the spongy tissue that had you seeing stars. He chuckled against you, the vibration of his laugh making your heart flip in your chest.

His ministrations were eager, and before you knew it, he was adding the second finger into you. He curled his fingers hard, the pleasure thrumming through your veins hitting an all time high. Your hands came to his hair, your hips rolling against his face.

The coil inside your core started to wind tighter and tighter, as you shamelessly grinded against his face, trying to pull yourself closer to an orgasm. He moaned eagerly against you, clearly enjoying the entire situation himself. Tighter and tighter the coil inside you wound, Johnny’s little grunts and moans against you doing nothing to help the situation.

The coil snapped, your orgasm rattling through your bones - your moans breathless and high pitched - as Johnny drank up all of your slick. Your breaths were heavy and ragged, Johnny’s face still firmly planted between your thighs. The feeling started to border on overstimulating, so you tapped his head three times shakily. Johnny finally pulled his head back, his chin and lips wet.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re gonna kill me, doll.” He grunted against your hipbone, laughing shakily, “Usin’ my face like your own personal throne, I could get used to that.” He looked up at you with humor filled eyes, crawling back up towards your lips.

You kissed him breathlessly, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. You moaned shamelessly into his mouth, your hands making quick work of ripping his shirt off of him and pushing his jeans down to his knees. He kicked off his shoes, awkwardly shoving his jeans off of his legs, the denim falling unceremoniously to the floor.

You adjusted on the couch, laying flat on your back horizontally, and Johnny slotted himself between your legs, the thick press of his cock against your weeping slit making you mewl. He fumbled around for a moment, trying to find his jeans.

“I’m on the-” You raised your arm, tapping your bicep, “-thing in arm. Good for three years.” You dropped your arm, your hand running down his chest. “You’re good. I’m clean.”

“You sure?” He asked, his eyes meeting yours, “Can’t promise I’m gonna last long feelin’ this pussy raw.” He admitted, laughing awkwardly.

“I’m sure. No babies.” You pulled his face down to yours, kissing him breathlessly, “Pump me full of cum, Daddy.” You purred.

“Jesus Ch-“ He let out a strangled grunt, resting his forehead against yours. His breath fanned hot against your face, his breath shaky, “You tryna give an old man a heart attack?” He asked, his voice shaking. He opened his eyes, silently asking if it was okay again. You nodded, and he slowly started to push into you.

The feeling of his thick cock stretching you out made you wail into his shoulder, your blunt nails digging into his shoulders. Slowly, agonizingly, he pushed in until he bottomed out. His breath was catching in his throat, his arm twitching as he gripped onto the back of the couch for dear life.

“Fuckin’ hell, babygirl.” He grunted out, letting out a trembling exhale of breath, “Pussy’s like a goddamned vice around me.” He spoke through gritted teeth, staying still to let you get used to the feeling of him inside you.

It was a silent couple of seconds before your muscles started to relax and he was able to start thrusting shallowly in and out of you. You whimpered and keened underneath him, and he hadn’t even gotten started yet.

“Harder…” You whispered, your voice begging helplessly, “Daddy, please.”

“Anything my babygirl wants.” Johnny whispered back to you, his hands moving to wrap around your neck, pulling himself impossibly closer to you. His hips slowly sped up, the pace rough but not brutal. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath heavy in your ear.

“Shit, Johnny.” You sucked in a breath through your teeth, whimpering in his ear as he set a steady pace. His hipbones smacked against your ass, causing a dull pain that only accentuated the pleasure.

It was a few moments of this steady pace before Johnny suddenly pulled back from where he was buried in your neck. You looked up at him with dazed eyes, confusion etching into your features. He shuddered out a breath as he met your eyes, a shaky smile crossing his face.

His hands shoved your thighs back, pushing your knees almost to your chest. In this angle, you could feel every inch of his cock as he pounded into you. You threw your head back, wailing out a mix of his name and a guttural scream. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you threw your head back against the small couch.

“Yeah, that’s it, my sweet girl.” He grunted through gritted teeth, his breath coming out in bursts, “You take Daddy’s cock so fucking well. This goddamned pussy was made for this cock - Fuck!” He snarled, his hips speeding up. All you could do was hold on for dear life, your mind swimming with nothing but him and how fucking good this felt.

His hands came to your breasts, his fingers tweaking one of the barbells. Between his nimble fingers on your nipples sending waves of heat to your core, and him making a complete mess of your pussy, you felt yourself coming undone at the seams. The familiar coil in your core was winding tighter and tighter by the second, and the tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes fell down your face. The pleasure was starting to border on the perfect blend of amazing and almost cruel. You met his eyes, your vision blurry from the tears, and you could see he had a wolfish grin on his lips.

“Yeah, that’s it. Cry over how fucking good this cock is.” He snarled, dipping his head down to your neck and leaving hot opened mouth kisses against your skin, “Could fucking live in this pussy, babygirl, Jesus Christ-!” His thrusts were getting sloppy, and you wailed out his name again, the coil suddenly snapping in your core. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your body trembled, your pussy fluttering around him. Your body felt taut, as your orgasm rippled through your bones.

“Oh fuck, babygirl-“ He grunted out, his thrusts brutal and rapid, “Just like that… Daddy’s gonna fucking cum all in this pussy.” He growled in your ear, and all you could do was hold on for dear life.

A couple seconds later, he stilled, letting out a moan that would make a pornstar blush. His cock twitched and pulsed inside of you as thick, hot ropes of cum filled you. You writhed, still trying to come down from your high.

It was a silent couple of seconds as the two of you remembered how to breathe, and you were the first to make any form of a sound. You chuckled breathlessly, meeting Johnny’s eyes.

“Well, remind me to accidentally strip in front of you more often.” You panted out, bringing your arms up and pulling Johnny into a kiss. His hands cradled the back of your head, holding your lips to his. He broke the kiss, laughing softly against your lips.

“Ain’t gotta be accidental no more, doll.” He pressed kiss after kiss to your lips, “You got me hooked around your lil’ finger.” He smiled down at you, before the sound of someone banging on the door made you both jump. You swore under your breath, your heart racing.

“Ye-Yeah?” You called, putting a finger to Johnny’s lip to shush him.

“Hey, are you two done fucking already? Your guys’ stunt is about to start.” Ehren’s voice, which had the edge of awkwardness to it, rang out through the door and it took everything in you to not want to melt into the floor from embarrassment.

“Why, you wanna join?” Johnny called and you smacked his arm, his loud cackle of a laugh making you roll your eyes.

“Gross! Fuck no!” Ehren’s voice was high pitched, and you could almost see him cringing, “Fucking hell, Knox. Just get dressed and get your guys’ asses out here. Jeff’s pissed.” Ehren walked away from the door, and you could hear his soft muttering as he walked away. You snorted out a laugh, cringing as Johnny pulled out of you. He grabbed a couple of tissues from a table nearby, getting you as cleaned up as possible.

“Well, I’m gonna have my own cum running down my neck.” He joked, and you groaned.

“Ew! Johnny!” You whined, and he barked out a laugh.

“What? I’m right!” He had a twinkle in his eye, helping you get up from the couch. Your hair was a mess, and your neck was covered with all sorts of love bites, “I ain’t the one who decided you were gonna wear shorts that barely cover your ass while you’re up on my damn shoulders!” He helped you get dressed, putting on his own clothes quickly afterwards.

“So…” You trailed off, letting him run a brush through your hair. You smiled at the odd intimacy of the action, and he hummed, a question of ‘Go on?’, “When’s round two?” You asked, the question hanging thickly in the air.

“Let’s win this stupid chicken fight ‘tween Bam and Ryan, and maybe then we’ll talk.” He chuckled darkly in your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Don’t worry, babygirl. I’ll have you walkin’ funny sooner rather than later.” He growled in your ear, sending a rush through you. He patted your butt, shaking his head, “But come on. Before the Almighty Tremaine slits our damn throats for fuckin’ up his perfect lil’ schedule.”

You exited your trailer, and if it wasn’t for the love bites on your neck and the flush that covered your cheeks, you were sure no one would have pegged you for having just had sex with Johnny. You, of course, would have been wrong.

“How big’s his cock, (Y/N)?” Bam all but screamed at you when you and Johnny made it to the set, and you bristled for a moment, “Come on, everyone heard you screamin’ his name!”

“Jealous, are we?” Johnny asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “Too bad she ain’t gonna ever scream your name, Bambi.”

You chuckled, trying to pull your beanie down to hide your face in embarrassment. But as you looked up at Johnny, who was harassing Bam about being jealous still, that weird love you had for Johnny settled in your stomach again. But those were feelings for another day. You had more pressing matters, namely throwing Bam and Ryan off of a wooden beam so you could get round two.

You had a pretty good feeling you’d be getting what you wanted, regardless of what Johnny had said.