#it ain't over til it's over and i know this

[ellieellieoxenfree]

feeling sad about louis chiang hours i guess!!!!!

[tetedurfarm]

well the lambs are scouring - i've had this happen before with cold/wet-season babies and i'm not really sure what to do about it, because i put fresh bedding in every day but it gets gross immediately from the mud/snow getting tracked in. we plan on putting concrete in the pens this year and maybe that'll help? i dunno.

anyway, i have a whole plaindre i could go on about how the ban on otc antibiotics doesn't stop the people it should stop and just makes it harder for small farmers to treat their animals affordably, but i will refrain. just know that i am Very Annoyed but fortunately i have some spectomycin that should still be good to treat them with. they hate it, but hopefully it'll help. if not, i am glad that i am lucky enough to be able to afford, for the most part, whatever vet visits i need. i just wish i didn't need to be able to for something so 'minor' as neonate scours.

they are still very peppy and eating well despite the poopy butt, and don't seem dehydrated, which is good. i kinda want to give them some electrolyte mix anyway but trying to bottle feed dam-raised lambs is a bitch. however, if they learn that i bring tasty snacks they will like me better :d

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Wendigo

Being out on the frontier ain't easy, 'specially not for a woman. And when a stranger wanders in from the plains, you know things ain't never gonna be easy again. 5.4k words. Originally published October 2022.

IT'S MORNING WHEN YOUR DADDY DRAGS A DEAD MAN INTO THE HOUSE.

You're curled up in front of the fire place, half dreamin' and half reading, when they stagger through the door. You notice your daddy first, breathing hard with the effort of keepin' the man up.

"Pa? What happened?"

Snow is thick on his shoulders and trapped in the brim of his old Stetson. But your daddy don't seem to care.

You get to your feet slowly. It's then that you notice the stranger.

A real tall fella, bent over like he ain't got much strength left in him. The winter was cruel to him and what's left of him is all bone, bone and hunger and aching need.

"Get the door to your room open."

Your daddy ain't askin'. That's his rancher voice - all hard steel. Your daddy is commanding you.

You stand still, too shocked to move. It ain't normal. Your daddy never talks to you like you're just one of the cowhands.

"But daddy, I don't want a dead man in my room."

You're whining, you know it. But you can't stop yourself. The stranger is covered in snow and bleeding too. You don't want him on top of your nice clean sheets, don't want a dying thing in the place where you sleep.

"Ain't dead yet. And he ain't gonna die, not if I can help it."

The stranger looks carved outta hunger and little else. Dark clothes and mean looking spurs, he ain't the type of fella you invite into your home.

"But why my room daddy?"

Your father is already dragging the man down the passage, his boots real loud against the wood floor. You follow behind them, your book still hanging from your fingers.

He doesn't wait for you to catch up. Just leans the fella against the wall for a second and opens the door to your room himself.

"But pa-"

Your daddy ain't hearing it. He spears you with a look to tan leather, a real mean glare that shuts you right up.

Your pa ain't ever cruel - not to you. You can't understand it. Why is he getting all worked up about a stranger? Ain't one man just as good as the next? Why go through all this trouble for someone you don't even know?

He drops the stranger on your bed and you flinch. When he speaks, his voice is still hard.

"He's half starved and half frozen. It don't look good and I want you to stay right here with him."

"Me? I ain't know a thing about him!"

Your daddy ignores you, dusting the snow off his hat 'fore putting it back on again. "Feed him and keep him warm, 'til I'm back with the surgeon. You hear me?"

You're staring at your daddy. He's gone mad, you're sure of it. The stranger is just another mouth to feed and you ain't got the food, not with winter already here.

Your daddy is tough and your daddy is smart - he tamed the west, made something out of the wild frontier. You don't like this starved man in your home, but if your daddy's asking you...

You nod slowly, shifting your eyes to the stranger.

"That's my girl." Your pa's voice is kinder and he grins at you. Then he's out the door.

In the silence, you finally take a good look at the man. He ain't much older than you really, but there's a hunger in his face you ain't got.

He's mighty handsome too, but it ain't...

It ain't a safe kind of beauty.

He's got plenty of scars but that ain't what makes you wary. 

There's something cruel in him - in the lines 'round his eyes, in the set of his jaw. He's winter lean. 

What was your daddy thinking? Leaving you to care for a wolf?

You take a deep breath. You can handle this. He's just a man, a man like any other. Ain't no kinder and he ain't no crueler.

But you ain't sure where to start. Lookin' at him is like lookin' straight into a grave. He ain't got no colour to him and his breathing is too slow to be normal.

Well, if you were sick and near dying, you'd wanna be comfortable, right? Get him all tucked away then get something for that hunger, that thirst.

His Stetson is covered with snow but underneath the ice, it's midnight dark. Slowly, you take it off. You're waiting for him to open his eyes, flinch, scream, anything.

But he's still as death and the hat comes off easy.

Underneath it, his hair is a dark blonde. Long enough to brush his jaw and still littered with snow.

The strands cling to his forehead and you smooth them away without thinking. His skin is real cold. Hell, he's probably frozen straight down to the bone. 

You sigh quietly.

His gun belt has two revolvers, both of 'em a bright silver. They ain't just for looking pretty either - the metal is covered in fine scratches from years of use.

You reckon it ain't a good idea to sleep with guns on and you reach forward, your fingers brushing the buckle.

He grabs your wrist.

He moves fast, faster than you've ever seen a man move. You try to jerk away, but he still has some strength in him and his grip is iron. Tight enough to bruise.

"The hell you doin' girl?"

The stranger's voice is deep but rough with thirst, a coyote learnin' to speak. You're frozen - you ain't expected him to be so strong or so fast.

You swallow and slowly drag your eyes up to look at him.

"Takin' your belt off."

It's his eyes that you notice first. Yellow gold and dangerous, he looks like he wants to eat you alive. Coyote eyes your daddy calls 'em.

"Oh really?" His eyes rake you up and down, lingering without an ounce of shame. "And you haven't even asked my name yet."

He ain't a gentleman and there's something in the way he smiles that makes you go cold. It's staring straight down the barrel of a gun, the way he makes you freeze.

"I ain't got a chance to ask your name on account of all the near fainting."

He laughs. It's deep, like his voice. But it ain't a kind laugh. The stranger don't have no kindness in him at all.

"I 'spose that's fair."

He's still holding your wrists but his grip ain't as tight.

"It just ain't a polite thing, touching a man's guns while he's sleeping. You get that darlin'?"

He lies down again and finally let's you go. Talkin' ain't done him no favors and his breathin' is real shallow. His eyes are closed again and you stand up, all slow and cautious.

"I'll get you something to drink."

He don't respond and you hurry away, your back burning the whole time.

Water is everything out on the plains and with winter outside your door, even the well has started freezing. You don't wanna feed the stranger, don't wanna quench his thirst. What good has ever come from having a coyote at your table?

But your daddy told you to do something and you listen to your daddy, 'specially out here. You listen to him 'cause otherwise you'd be dead and gone long ago. Buried out on the prairie like so many others.

Life ain't easy out west and the land belongs more to ghosts than people.

When you return, the stranger's eyes are still closed. Most folks look harmless in their sleep, like their dreams are all they care 'bout. But that ain't true of him.

Being near him is being near a bear just as the snow melts. Any moment, he'll open his eyes and chew straight through your heart.

You clench your jaw and reach out your hand. Your fingers rest on his forehead, then his cheek. He's still icy to the touch and you ain't sure how he keeps breathing.

"That feels real good sweetheart." His voice is low.

He opens his eyes slowly, and when they settle on you, he manages a smile. His teeth are sharp and his lips are bloody, like he's been chewing at them for a real long time.

"I brought you some water."

He sits up slowly but his eyes never leave you.

"Much obliged darlin'."

He reaches for it and his fingers brush yours. You flinch - his touch is cold as the grave.

He drinks slow but his muscles are tight and you know it ain't easy. He's fighting with himself for every sip - the desperate, thirsty part of him just wants to gulp it all down. He would drink a river dry, if you gave him the chance.

When he's done, he looks at you and he smiles. A twisted thing that never touches his eyes.

"You got some food too?"

"I do."

But you ain't eager to share it with him. What was it the ranch hands always said? Don't feed the wolves unless you wanna feed them everything you've got?

Your daddy was wrong to bring him here - wrong to offer him hearth and home when the men were lean and the crows were watching.

You don't move and he watches you. In the quiet, your heart starts to race. What's going through his head, that makes his eyes so dark?

"You ain't much like your pa, you know that?"

His wolf eyes look straight through your soul. You fidget with your dress, tryin' your best to look uninterested.

"Your daddy is a better man than most. But you...well, I reckon he spoils you."

He licks his lips and you realize the bleeding is worse than you thought - he's teeth are red with it.

He continues, "Your daddy ain't taught you enough about the frontier."

Who does he think he is? Lyin' in your bed, drinkin' your water and lecturing you?

"You ain't know a damn thing me."

You're scared of him but you're bitter too, and anger is easier to stomach than fear.

You don't mean to snarl at him, but your blood is up and you ain't good with your temper. Your cheeks are red hot and your heart leaps right up your throat, 'til you can almost taste your own blood. 

"Get your own damn food if you want it."

You turn to leave but his hand grabs the back of your dress and he yanks you toward him. He's strong and you ain't expecting it, ain't got any time to dig in your heels. 

You land hard on the bed, right next to him.

"I ain't done talkin' sweetheart. Ain't your daddy ever taught you any manners?"

He's voice is real close to you ear and he has a growl to him that makes you freeze. He smells of juniper and pine, of icy cold winter.

"Let me go."

You try real hard to sound brave and mean, to sound like your pa when he wants something done. But you ain't your daddy and the stranger is too close and too cruel. Your voice is quiet and afraid, a girl begging a monster.

You hate yourself for it.

"Why would I do that?"

His other hand curls around the back of your neck and he leans toward you, 'til you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear.

"You've got a real temper in you girl."

His voice is rough with somethin' you can't recognize. Hate? Anger?

He ain't a man to be disrespected, ain't someone to take an insult.

You should apologize, say your rage got the better of you. Say you won't let it happen again and that you're real sorry. Ask him to please let you go.

But even in your fear, your pride won't bend. How dare he touch you so easily? You don't belong to him - he ain't got a damn say in how you behave.

You swing around, your nails coming up to scratch his face, dig his eyes out, make him bleed.

But you ain't learnt from the last time.

He's faster than you and he catches your hand in his. His grip is tight and he's skin is rough, calloused from years of gun slinging.

He's face is just next to yours and the dim morning sun casts him in shadow.

"Temper, temper."

He chides, his gravel voice rumbling through you.

You're going to bite his face off, just lean forward and-

And he's smiling.

Not a cruel smile neither. All gold eyes and real deep dimples.

He's dangerous, you know it in your bones. But his smile is all honey, all sunrise gold.

There ain't a lot of men out here, and none who smile at you like that. None who look you straight in the eyes like you're all they've ever wanted.

"Let me go, please."

You ask politely this time. He's too handsome and he's too close and Lord help you, your hearts gonna run right outta your rib cage.

He hums softly. "Ain't happenin' girly. I let you go and you're gonna run right out that door and leave me to freeze."

You want to get away from him, it's true. He's twisting your soul 'round his fingers 'til you ain't sure whether he wants to kiss you or eat you alive. 

You shake your head. "I'll stoke the fire. My pa said to keep you warm."

He laughs, a real throaty laugh. "You always do what your daddy says?"

"Of course."

Why did it have to be him? If your daddy was going around saving strays, couldn't he have found someone else? Anyone else? 

The stranger is a mystery and you hate it. 

His grip tightens 'round your neck. "You ain't gonna run off?"

"Ain't that what I said?"

He's quiet for a real long time. You start thinking he ain't even considering it - he's just gonna keep you here with him 'til your daddy gets back. 

And then he let's you go.

"Alright sweetheart, let's see you keep your word."

You stand up slowly, keeping your eyes on him the entire time.

Your room is the only bedroom with a fireplace and when you've put all the space you can between the two of you, you finally turn your back on him.

You stack the firewood carefully, feelin' his eyes on you the whole time.

"You ain't scared of me, are you?"

You flinch. 

"Why would I be?"

Your voice comes out real calm. It's easier when you ain't looking in his eyes, when he ain't spearing you down with the heat of his stare.

"I ain't sure. I promise I'm real nice darlin'."

You make the mistake of looking at him. He's smiling at you with those sharp teeth and he don't seem nice at all.

You drop your eyes real fast. Your cheeks feel all tingly and you ain't sure why, ain't sure how he does this to you.

Ain't you 'sposed to like men who are kind?

Not this stranger, not a man made cruel from years of hard living. And still...

"You got a name stranger?'

"I do."

You wait but he doesn't say anything more. He's giving you a taste of your own medicine and you loathe him for it.

"How did my daddy find you?"

"Is that really the question you wanna ask me?"

His voice is better, less harsh. But that don't mean he's kind. Don't mean he's good. 

You fiddle with the kindling, staying quiet. 

" 'Cause I think what you really wanna know is 'why.' Why your daddy brought me here, why he wants to save me."

You turn to face him. How did he know? You ain't that easy to read. Hell, most of the ranch hands can't even tell if you're in a good mood, much less guess what you're thinking.

Who is this man?

He has you full attention again and he smiles, runs his hand through his blond hair. 

" 'S what I was sayin' earlier. You ain't know enough about the plains. You can't survive alone out here. You've gotta take care of folks, gotta keep them fed when they need it. Your daddy knows that."

You raise a brow. "And what happens when you don't?"

He laughs but it's bitter as sand. "Hungry folk are dangerous folk."

But ain't he half starved already?

You turn back to the fireplace, finally striking a match. The fire catches quick and the light rims you in gold. 

The stranger watches you - on your knees and haloed in warmth, you're a sight for sore eyes. All those long months on the plains, always tryin' to be one step ahead of death and here you are, a just reward for all his suffering.

You ain't got a clue how hard life is, ain't got any idea how the nights stretch long and lonely. But he'll teach you. 

He'll make sure you learn the danger of hunger unsatisfied. 

"Come sit with me." He says quietly.

You stand and shake your head slowly. Being in here is stifling, makes you wanna crawl right outta your skin.

Is it fear or want? You ain't sure.

"Come sit with me. I don't bite." He ain't smiling no more.

You swallow and cross your arms, fold a little into yourself. He ain't anything you're familiar with. Folks don't order you 'round - not when you're the boss' daughter.

"I don't trust you." You say simply.

He's sitting on the edge of your bed, his revolvers glinting in the cold winter sun. He's a desperado, you ain't got a doubt about it.

"What am I gonna do to you girl? I just want a little company."

He taps his fingers 'gainst his knee, watching you with sharp eyes.

"You ain't got a clue darlin'. Out there, folk shoot 'fore they offer conversation. Is it so bad that I wanna talk to you?"

"Then talk. I can hear you just fine from over here."

He shakes his head slowly. "You grudge me food and water. And now you won't even talk to me. You always this charmin' sweetheart?"

You bristle. He's the one who ain't got any manners at all, not you.

"Fine." You snarl and stalk forward, stopping right in front of him. "Happy now?"

A smile is crawling 'cross his bloody lips. "Still ain't working on that temper, are you darlin'?"

"I ain't your darling! And I ain't got a temper neither."

He reaches out slowly and his hands come to rest on your waist. He don't hold you tight but his fingers are long and they dig into you just a little.

You freeze, not expecting him to touch you. His voice is real low, just shy of a growl.

"Don't me want to call you my darlin'? You'd better stop me then."

You slap him.

You're quicker than him for once and you hit him hard enough to twist his head, the sound cracking through the quiet. Your palm stings and it runs straight up your arm.

He touches his cheek gingerly, his other hand getting real tight 'round you, clawing straight into your back.

Oh no.

You're done for. He's gonna grab one of his guns and end you right now, shoot you straight through the heart. Or maybe he'll do it with his bare hands, just choke the life outta you. Or -

He laughs.

"God damn girl, I bet you've got a mean right hook too."

He grins and rubs his cheek.

"You're a real hellcat, ain't you?"

His other hand is still curled 'round your waist and you step away, pull yourself free of him. You don't trust his good mood. Don't trust his smile when his eyes ain't got no joy in them.

He ain't eager to let you go but there ain't much he can do to stop you - nothing gentle at least.

You've had enough of him - of his entitlement and his anger, of his values that mean nothing to you. You spin on your heel and aim for the door.

"I wish he left you outside to starve."

You ain't gotta share a damn thing with him. Who cares if he dies? What's yours is yours. You ain't gotta give him food or shelter or kindness. Ain't owe him.

Your daddy was wrong. You gotta look out for yourself first.

"Sweetheart I-"

You leave 'fore he can finish, shutting the door and leaning against it. Just tryin' to slow your heart.

He ain't a pious man and he ain't thinking holy thoughts 'bout you.

The first thing you notice when you turn around is the dimness. The fires burnt out, sure. But the sun should be shining through the glass.

You walk into the living room and stare out the big bay windows, your mouth fallin' open. 

The clouds are thick and dark, real storm clouds blowing in from the plains. And the wind has gotten stronger too. You watch it kicking up puffs of snow and hurling it past the glass.

A blizzards blowing in, you're sure of it.

But it's movin' fast, faster than you thought possible. When the stranger came in, there weren't even a breeze.

God, is your daddy gonna be okay? Maybe he's reached town already. Maybe him and the doc are drinking together and waitin' for the storm to pass. Your daddy's tough - he'll be fine. Right?

"You okay darlin'?"

You whirl around, your heart in your throat.

The passage behind you is real dark and you can just kinda see the stranger, a blurry silhouette. He's standing strange and his arms are real long looking. Has he always been that tall?

"I'm...fine."

There's something 'bout his voice you don't like.

Somethin' in it that makes you take a step back. And then another and another, 'til you're pressed right against the window sill. It digs into your back and the chill goes straight down to your spine, dulls its teeth on your marrow.

"What I tell you 'bout leavin' while I'm talking?"

You can just make out his yellow eyes. They're catching the light and glinting like an animal's.

He continues, "You're real slow to learn, ain't you?"

You frown, your heart stuttering inside you.

"No. 'Course not."

He laughs and it runs down your neck like ice.

"You're really somethin', you know that y/n?"

When did he learn your name? You sure ain't told him.

His voice is low but it has winter's bite to it. He talks to you like cowpokes talk to girls after a real long time out in the plains - all hunger and need.

"You're just the kinda girl I like. Selfish, greedy, gotta learn her place."

His eyes trace your body and he smiles at you, that mocking half smile that ain't got an ounce of kindness in it.

"Now come 'ere."

He lunges forward but you're ready for it and you dive outta the way. You land hard on your knees but you scramble up, your blood screamin' in your ears.

Gotta get a weapon or somethin' - he's still stronger than you, even if he's half starved.

Your daddy keeps a Henry rifle 'bove the fire place and you aim for it, movin' fast.

But the stranger ain't no ordinary man. He grabs you from behind and you both go crashing down.

His body is pressed right up against you and he's cold as ice.

"That blizzards keepin' you right here darlin, ain't no running."

His voice ain't human. It's the cracking of bone, the tearing of flesh, the hound dog howling. His voice is hunger and nothin' else.

His hands are pressed into the floor next to your waist and his teeth brush your ear. Even starving, he's lean with muscle and you can feel the hardness under his skin.

His breath is cold and it smells of wintergreen.

He's gonna bite straight through your throat. Rip you apart. Have your heart right between his teeth.

But you ain't dying today.

You snarl and try to buck him off, but he doesn't budge. His weight is pressing you into the floor and you can't take a full breath.

Your ribs feel like they're 'bout to snap inwards, shards of your own bone driving straight through your heart.

You struggle under him and he laughs.

"Keep doin' that sweetheart. I love feelin' you squirm."

His voice is husky and it ain't like anything you've heard before.

The dead fire is right next to you and the embers are still hot, still have some burning red streaking through them.

You reach out and grab one. It's scalds your palm and your whole hand is nothing but white hot pain. But you ain't gonna let that stop you.

You twist around and press the burning ember right in his face.

He shrieks like an animal and leaps back, light on his feet like he don't weigh a thing.

"Fucking hurts." His voice is a hiss, a rattlesnake under your skin.

You scramble up and yank the rifle down, swinging around with your finger on the trigger.

The stranger is in front of you and there ain't nothin' human left in him. He's crouched down on the floor and his limbs are too long - sticking out like an insect's. He ain't got no lips neither. Just ragged, bloody skin like he's eaten straight through them.

Corpse pale and cold as the frost, the stranger in your home was always a dead man.

His teeth are sharp and long and Lord help you, he has so many teeth.

He lunges toward you.

He's fast, faster than anything alive. But you ain't done fighting yet.

His body is in the air when you fire the first shot. The bullet hits him straight in the head and knocks him back.

Black blood sprays across the floor, across the furniture, across your face.

He crashes into the dining table, his spine shattering against the table legs.

You don't wait to check if he's still alive.

You aim for his chest and empty your daddy's rifle. Put bullet after bullet straight into his heart. The sound is thunder and when the firing stops, your ears are ringing.

His blood pools around him, thick as oil. The wendigo is still.

The wendigo is dead.

The blizzard is startin' in earnest now and the snow outside the windows is coming thick and fast. Your shoulder aches from the rifle's recoil and you can't get the shaking outta your fingers. You sink down to your knees, your breath ragged.

They were just 'sposed to be stories.

You keep your eyes on its body, scared of even blinking.

With a heart of ice, it's born in the cold, lean months.

The wendigo devours.

The wendigo is ever hungry.

But the wendigo is dead.

You wait a real long time. Until you heart ain't as loud and the blizzard rages, until the whole house is freezing. The wind screams and the wendigo doesn't move.

You're safe.

You close you eyes. You let yourself breathe. The gun slinger is dead and he ain't gonna hurt you, ain't gonna touch you.

You were right - ain't nothing good ever comes of strangers at your table.

The winter grows angry, but you're safe and you're warm. And the stranger ain't ever gonna have you. You smile. You open your eyes.

He's gone.

He was dead and now he's gone.

You jump to your feet, holding the rifle like an axe. The quiet stretches around you, nothin' but your own breathing to break it.

Where is he?

You keep perfectly still, squinting into the dark corners of the room. The light is scarce and every shadow hides him.

"You ain't getting away from me sweetheart."

You whirl around but he's quick as a cat. He grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks you toward him.

He ain't gentle and he shakes you 'til your jaws rattling. Holds you like a kitten.

He's pressed up behind you and he dips his head low, 'til his lips are right above your pulse.

"So selfish but so warm..."

You scream, try to pull away. But he ain't movin' and all you do is rip some of your own hair out.

He laughs, laughs deep and cold.

"You gotta start listenin' sweetheart. What I just say 'bout getting away?"

He uses your hair like a leash and tosses you straight across the room.

The floor hits you hard and knocks the air clean outta you. Pain spikes white hot right through your ribs.

He's stronger than any man has the right to be. He threw you clear across the room without even tryin'.

He don't wait for you to get up neither. He just grabs your jaw and drags you to your knees. His fingers dig into your cheeks.

He's human again but that ain't a kindness.

His nails - his claws - leave bloody scratches 'cross your skin.

You look up and he's staring down at you with those strange, hungry eyes.

Coyote gold. Wolf gold. Killer gold. 

His pupils are blown out wide, 'till they're all black rimmed in honey. He's staring at you and there ain't nothin' but want in him.

"Your daddy's a good man. He knows the way of the west. But you..."

He smiles that sardonic grin of his. Your bullets ain't left a hole but blood is running down from his hairline. It creeps down into his mouth and his smile is red and cruel. 

"You need to learn a lesson girl."

He pulls you up and you scream. You claw at him, dig your nails in deep 'til your fingers ache.

He holds you like a prize and his eyes drop to your lips. And then lower still.

You're crying, tears on your tongue bitter as poison. It ain't fair. You just wanted to keep yourself safe and fed and warm. You shouldn't be punished for it. 

He runs a thumb across your cheek but there ain't no kindness in it.

"Awww, am I scaring you darlin'?"

He said your daddy was a smart man, a kind man.

Would he have let you go? If you were generous or selfless or good?

He smells of the forest and your head is swimmin' with it. His thumb traces the outline of your lips and his smile is all teeth. He'll shatter your bones like glass if he wants.

He presses his lips against your cheek and whispers to you, his voice cruel as the snow.

"I'll be gentle sweetheart. I promise."

It's then that you realize.

A man's got more than one kind of hunger.

[slut4megantheestallion]

"Mine to ruin" - Jinx (arcane)

Mdni. Bottom!reader, strap-on usage, Dom!Jinx, wlw, wlw x reader, teasing, dirty talk, Doggystyle, breeding kink.

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐

The dim neon lights painted by the walls in shifting hues, pulsing in the time in with your heartbeat. The mattress beneath you creaked, your mascara messed up from the hot kissing you had with jinx before you ended up in the ended up in bed in a doggystyle position. Jinx pressed her body against yours, her fingers trailing over the back of your skin like she was memorizing every inch.

"Damn, sweets..." her voice was a low, sultry purr. "Look at you. Bent over for me. With my cock inside of you, just beggin' to get wrecked. You're so good for me, y'know that?"

Her hands roam, fingers digging into your hips as she rolled her hips against you thrusting into you, slow at first, teasing, making you whimper as you whimper in frustration as you grip on the bed for some stability.

"AH~ Fuck! Jinx wants more, baby! Harder!~" You moan loudly impatiently as jinx chuckles at how desperate you are.

"Aww, you want more? What, this ain't enough for ya, slut?" She giggles, breath warm against your ear. "Nah, I think I wanna hear you beg for it first, toots~"

She pulled back, stopping just to let you feel the loss of her, making you arch towards her, desperate for friction. That's when she slammed the strap back into your core,sharp and deep, tears flowing in your eyes as hold tighter to the bed sheet as the bed creaked loudly, her fingers pressing bruises into your skin.

"F-Fuck, that's it. Take it, sweets. Take all of it." Her voice wavered, but the smugness never left. She loved watching you fall apart for her.

Jinx let's out a breathy chuckle, her pace unrelenting as she leaned over you, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"Y'ever think about it?" She murmured. "Me... breeding you with cum and puttin' a baby in ya? Filling ya up real good 'til you're all swollen with me?"

Your breath hitched, a whimper past your lips turned on by the imagination of being pregnant and having jinx's babies, and jinx heard it. She felt it. And oh, she loved it.

"Ohh, you do like that, huh?" She giggled, nipping at your neck. "You want me to knock ya up, don'tcha? Wanna be my perfect little breedin' bunny, all around 'n full for me?"

Her thrusts grew rough, deeper, her nails scraping down your back as she groaned, "Fuck, sweets... If I could, I'd stuff ya full of me, make sure ya can't walk straight, 'til everyone knows who ruined ya."

You gasped, hands clutching the sheets, and jinx smirked at how easy it was to unravel you. She gripped your chin, forcing you to turn your head just enough so she could kiss you, messy and desperate.

"I love seein' you like this," she purred against, your lips. "You're mine, sweets. Ain't nobody gonna touch you but me. And if they try? Heh... well, guess I'll just have to put a baby in ya so they really get the message."

Her laughter rang in your ears as she pushed you right to the edge, her voice dripping with possessions, obsession, love.

"C'mon, be good for me, sugar... Let me see you fall apart for me again."

And oh, you did.

Jinx didn't let up. Even when your body trembled beneath her, even when you gasped for breath, she just grinned and kept going, rolling her hops slow and deep, feeling the plastic toy, watching you twitch beneath her.

"Mmm, don't tell me you're done already?" She teased, finger dragging down your spine, making you shiver. "C'mon, sweets, you can hand a little more, can't ya?"

She leaned over you, pressing kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your jaw- each one soft, almost loving, a sharp contrast to the way she was stilling rocking into you, drawing out every little whimper, every sharp inhale.

"Told ya, I ain't stoppin' til I'm sure you get it," she murmured against your skin. "Mine. Every part of ya. Ain't no one else ever gonna touch you like this."

Her grip tightened on your hips, her movements growing rougher as you felt the silicone of the strap, like she was trying to mark you from the inside out.

"Fuck, sweets, I wish I could fill you up for real. Watch you get round with me, all full 'n perfect."

Her words shiver down your spine, heat pooling deep in your core, and jinx felt it l because she laughed, breathy and smug.

"Ohh, you really like that, huh?" She cooed, pressing a hand to your stomach, fingers splaying out possessively. "Can practically feel ya squeezin' me everytime I talk about knockin' ya up. You're so easy, sweets. So fuckin' cute."

She pulled back just enough to slap your ass, the sharp sting making you yelp out in pain and pleasure, and she giggled, absolutely delighted.

"I could do this all night, sugar. Keep ya right here, nice 'n needy, fuck you 'til you're cryin' for me."

And with the way she was moving, the way she was whispering filthy things into your ear, you knew she meant it.

Jinx had no intention of stoppin until she'd wrung every last bit of pleasure from you- until you were shaking and gasping and utterly wrecked.

And honestly? You didn't want her to.

(Based on the jinx idea post I posted a few days ago, instead of her fucking you on the couch I changed it into the bed, instead.

[cherryyluvs]

-MARK X READER, REX X READER✰

SUMMERY: A fair date with Mark & Rex that turns into a chaotic mix of rigged games and sweet moments under the lights, because winning your heart is the real prize.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ᰔ ୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

MARK GRAYSON !

The idea was totally his. Mark wanted to do something fun and different for your date. So when he saw that the fair would be opened, he knew it was perfect. He was excited, cotton candy, cheesy rides, and getting time to spend the whole night with you? What could be better than this? "Okay, we have to get funnel cake first. And then we have to get on the Ferris wheel."

Drags you straight to the food stands. Mark is always hungry, so of course the first thing he does is buy enough fair food to feed a small village. Corn dogs, deep fried Oreos, caramel apples. He's got it all.

Fails miserably at the games. He knows they're a scam but that doesn't stop him from trying to get you a gift. The ring toss? Impossible. “Uh. Okay. That was a warm up.” The 'Test your strength' hammer game? He definitely overestimates how hard to hit it and nearly breaks the whole thing.

Gets a little pouty about it.

Mark cheats just a tiny bit. You catch him using his Viltrumite strength to finally win you a prize. The game operator squints but they let it slide because Mark looks way too proud of himself. “See? I told you I could do it.

The Ferris wheel is the highlight of the night. He makes sure you guys get the seat right at the top, where the whole fair sparkles blow, the stars twinkling like diamonds in the sky. It's quiet, peaceful, and just for a second he forgets about being a superhero. It's just you and him <3

The nights ends by winning you a tiny trinket. Maybe it's a cheap bracelet or a silly fair prize, but he hands it to you like it's the most valuable thing over. "Here, now you'll always remember our first fair date."

REX SPLODE !

Rex pretends like he's too cool for the fair. "A fair? Babe, that's for kids." But the moment you guys there, he's dragging you toward the turkey leg stand like a man on a mission.

He refuses to buy just one thing. If there's food, he's eating it. "You ever had deep fried butter? No? Babe, you gotta try this." He's handing you the weirdest fair food, grinning every time you make a face.

Tries the basketball hoop game first. He thinks he's got this in the bag since he is an athlete after all. But the ball bounces off the tiny rim every single time, you're holding back a laugh while he's just standing there. “Nah, nah, I ain't leavin til I win somethin!" He ends up spending way too much money trying to beat one game.

He is going to win you something even if it kills him. “Babe, don’t even worry. I got this.” (Spoiler: He does not got this.)

At some point, he cheats. Look, it's not his fault his powers are useful! You didn't see him flick his wrist and make the ball explode off the backboard to land perfectly in the hoop. If the guy running the game didn't catch it, then did he really cheat?

“BOOM, BABY! WHO’S THE CHAMP?” He’s yelling while holding up the giant plush bear he just won.

Ferris wheel is his moment to be sweet. He acts like he doesn't care about "sappy fair crap", but when you two get to the top. He actually shuts up for once, looking at you, eyes soft. Before resting a hand on your thigh. “This ain’t bad, y’know? Just us, the view… kinda perfect.”

Ends the night with fireworks. If there aren't any fireworks at the fair, he makes some just for you. Just to impress you. "Boom. Fire works just for you." <3

[toxicanonymity]

needs

3.3k, joel miller x virgin f!reader

joel masterlist | miniseries masterlist

Summary: Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.

A/N: Follows ✨ Fires (1.6, prologue), Aches (900), and Thoughts (1.6).

WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (20/50s), still only one sleeping bag, pining, c*ck hunger, fingering, grinding, masturbation, oral m receiving, cum eating, unsafe P in V, reluctantly pulling out, loss of virginity, pet names, praise, POV alternates, NO Y/N.

“God have mercy,” he mutters to himself.

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, he tells himself . . . Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn . . .  

-------

It’s all over your face. He’s never seen anything like it, the way you crave his cock. You shamelessly stare at his pants. His whole body, really. You were bad enough before you touched it, and it’s only gotten worse. You can’t focus, you can’t listen. It’s dangerous.  He should put a stop to this, take it away cold turkey. Sleep back-to-back. But you both have needs, and he's not gonna do that.

Joel feels like he might as well be a virgin himself, it's been so long for him. Frankly, he’s dying to put it in you just as much as you long to have it.  He’s been trying to wait until Jackson so he can do it somewhere safe, somewhere a little nicer, more comfortable. 

He wants to wait and make sure it's nice and special for you, but good lord, you’re makin' it hard. You make the sweetest little sounds when he touches you, and even when he doesn’t, like in your sleep. You ask him things like, “doesn’t sex feel better than hands?” He tells you half-truths, like “not always.” Of course it would with you.  Of course it would.

-

You’re in the forest. With dusk approaching, you're just about to set up camp while there's still light. Joel is taking a leak at the edge of a small clearing, calculating mileage in his head, counting down the days ‘til you should get there. His back could use a real bed, too.  He's shaking his dick dry and a twig snaps behind him. His head whips around and he reaches for his gun. 

It’s you. God damnit, he could’ve killed you. 

“Can I see it?” you ask. 

“What the hell are ya doin’ over here?”

“I just wanna see it.” You look down toward his jeans. “Can I?” 

It’s fair that you’re curious, he knows that. You mentioned it the night before with your hand wrapped around it, I wanna see it, really see it, I bet it’s good looking. You’ve only felt it at night and caught glimpses in the moonlight. At the time, he mindlessly reassured you, you’ll see it, baby, you'll see my cock, and he should’ve known you’d spring this on him.

“Not now,” he mutters, trying to calm his heart rate.  “Can ya gimme a second, honey?” 

“Okay.”  He can hear the sadness, practically see the disappointment on your face. God damnit. He tucks himself away and zips up. You're only about eight feet away.  “Now?”

“No.  Ain’t nothin’ to see right now.” You probably don’t realize what a big difference it can make. 

“What do you mean”

“Just trust me, it ain't how ya wanna see it.” 

“Why?" 

“Cause it ain’t as. . .”

“Ain’t as what?”

“Nothin’, baby. Just not the right time.”

“Better if we’re close together, right?” You step closer. 

He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a deep breath. “This ain’t the time or the place, honey.” 

When he looks at you again, your face has fallen, and you mumble, “K.” 

He puts a big, comforting hand on your shoulder and walks you back to where y'all are setting up camp. “When we find a bed, I’ll show ya. . .”  

"And when we find a bed," you repeat. Don't say it, don't say it, he prays to God you don't say it. "We can do it, right?" He doesn't answer. "You can put your cock inside me, right?"

Fuck, you're gonna drive this old man crazy. At least one of you needs your wits about you if you'll ever make it to Jackson. "We'll see," he sighs. 

After a moment of silence, your voice trembles as you ask, "We'll see? Why not yes?"

"Cause we ain't gonna make it there at this rate," he complains, then sighs with instant regret. "I'm sorry, honey. But you gotta try to knock it off with this stuff."

You swallow and your eyes glimmer. "Sorry," you whisper. 

He turns away to adjust himself, then sits down on the ground, leaning back against a log and extends an arm for you. "S'okay, c'mere."

You sit on the ground next to him. He squeezes your shoulder and changes the topic to twenty questions. 

——

He’s nicer at night. He’s nice in the day, too, mostly.  Once in a while, you can tell you’re annoying him, and you feel bad.  If only he knew how many times you thought about it and didn't say something, he’d appreciate your efforts. It’s practically all you think about. It’s even worse now that you feel it in your hand every night, but the last thing you want is for that to stop. 

You had been thinking about it all day when you finally asked what you thought was an easy request – if you could just see it, just a glimpse while he already had it out anyway. 

Even if you don’t get to see it, at least it’s easy enough to recall what it feels like.  Smooth, warm, and stiff. Soft veins, tiny wrinkles. A leaking slit. 

—--

“Can I taste it?” you ask one night with your little fist wrapped around his shaft. 

He groans quietly. “Yeah, you wanna taste it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand sticky with the lube of your own slick, a bead of precum under your thumb. You smear the precum and let go of his hard cock, making it slap against his stomach.  You take your thumb into your mouth and hum, “Mmm,” at the salty taste. 

“Whatcha think,” he whispers breathily. 

“Can I have your cock in my mouth?”

“Oh, baby, ‘course ya can.” The zipper of the sleeping bag jingles, then you hear the satisfying zzz as it unzips.  He folds it down and you get up on your knees. You bend at the hip and don't waste a second. You wrap your thumb and forefinger around the base, trying and failing to make your digits touch. 

Then, your lips wrap around the head.  He inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Did I hurt you?” you ask.

“God no, honey. Go ‘head, taste it all ya want.”  

 You curiously tongue the slit and suck for more. 

“Oh god damn,” he breathes.

You lick around it under the crown and you’re salivating. 

He wraps his hand around yours and moves it up and down, then leaves you be. “Use your spit, honey.” You let it dribble out of your mouth and onto his tip and catch it in your fist. You kitten lick the shaft, tasting your own tang, and letting your saliva fall out of your mouth as it accumulates, occasionally sliding the open ring of your finger and thumb up and down but mostly forgetting because you’re so focused on it in your mouth.

“Ya like that, sweetie? ya like how we taste?” You take a couple inches into your mouth then suck a little more of it in. It twitches against your tongue. The biggest vein throbs. 

“Alright, baby,” he pants and takes it from you. He urgently pulls up his own shirt, slides his hand a few times, then comes with a groan, his voice and pulsing manhood making you ache with need, even though he already made you come. You stay there on your knees.  In the dim moonlight, you watch his tummy rise and fall with the shiny trail leading to, and pooling in, his navel. 

“Can I taste that, too?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

You dip your tongue in the trail below his navel. It’s thicker, headier, saltier than the precum.  It’s not every day you get to taste something new. It’s not often at all. It's delicious.

“Like it,” you whisper.

“Yeah? take all ya want.” 

You lick and seal your lips as you suck it up. You pause to pluck a hair from your mouth, then continue to his navel. You dip your tongue in and his stomach flexes abruptly. You take your mouth off and pause. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” 

You tongue his navel, then suck, and he inhales a chest full of air as you do it, his stomach rising into your lips. You lick up every drop. 

“Good girl,” he sighs and  cups your cheek. “Such a good girl," he sighs.

—

All day you think about it in your mouth, in your hand, resting hard against your back, between your thighs. You imagine it all over your body. Doesn’t matter if he’s pressing it up against your hip or resting it in the crook of your elbow, God, you just want to feel it somewhere. You try not to think about it inside you too much because that makes you want it so bad, you could cry. Like really cry.

It’s not a want. It's a need.  You see it happening everywhere you look. You see a tree, and you imagine him sitting on the forest floor against it, holding his cock at attention, ready for you to sit on it.  You see another tree and he’s pinning you up against it with your legs wrapped around him, jeans pulled down under his ass as he rails you. You see a patch of moss and cluster of ferns that would be a nice pillow with him on top of you.

You think about it, and you dream about it, too. You can’t help that. He starts wearing jeans to sleep, and you can’t feel the shape of him quite as well against you, but it doesn’t matter. The fact that it’s there and it’s hard is enough to drive you mad. Even after he gets you off, it's bound to come back at some point in the night. Worst case scenario, you lose sleep over it. Best case, it works its way into your dreams.

----

One night, you're moaning in your sleep again, and Joel can hardly take it. His cock is painfully stiff and the strain against his jeans makes him ache. His hips press into you on their own; he can't stop them. All he can do is take off his jeans in hopes that being free of the rigid confines will lend some relief.  He was wearing them as an extra layer between the two of you for this exact scenario, but he can no longer bear it.

On one hand, he’s taking precautions, like keeping his jeans on.  But on the other hand, in the heat of the moment, when he’s touching you, he’s taking measures to prepare you, and to see how ready you are. Lately, he scissors his fingers, inserts three to see how you take it.  “Good girl, that’s real good,  honey.” He curls them inside you, “Ohhh, baby, you’re takin’ this real good.”

God, he wants a bed for this. You deserve a fuckin' mattress at the very least. He’s gotta wait. And yet now he finds himself taking off his jeans. He carefully removes them without waking you up. He lies there with his fist around his cock for a minute, still in his boxers, doing nothing but softly squeezing, as if that’ll make it go away.  Then he resigns himself to the magnetism of your body.  He curves his form around yours again and silently sighs as the hardness in his boxers rests against you and he wraps you in a hug. He manages not to thrust against your ass, but in no time, you're pushing yourself back against him. "Joel," you mumble in your sleep. 

"God have mercy," he mutters to himself. 

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. . . not yet. . . not yet, he tells himself, taking deep calming breaths. Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn he wants to take that tight little hole.  

"Joel,” you whine and push back on him again. He can't stand it. He really can't. He has to wake you up.

He whispers, "Whatcha dreamin 'bout, sweetie?" then feels your breathing change. 

When you blink awake, your hips are slowly moving, pushing your ass back into Joel's hard cock until you stop yourself. 

"Sorry," you mumble. "Did I wake you up?" The sweet sound of your voice isn’t helping.

"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs into your hair. 

"I dunno how to stop it," you whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout, baby doll." He hugs you tight. “Don’t be embarrassed.” His cock swells harder against you. He whispers in your ear, "They want each other real bad, that's all." 

"I know." 

"Have a good dream?"

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“‘bout what?”

“I dunno if you wanna hear it,” you tell him. Fair enough, he's told you to knock it off, after all. 

“Sure I do, honey. Was it you and me?”

“Yeah,” you wedge your hand between your legs. 

"You want a hand?"  

“Yeah.”

“What’d ya dream?” he asks as he reaches into your panties. "God damn," he whispers. You're soaked, swollen, and your clit is throbbing against his hand. "Poor thing." He thrusts his hardness against your ass.  "No wonder you're tryin' to get at this, huh?" 

You're quiet. 

"No wonder ya can't stop thinkin' ‘bout it." He thrusts against you again and moans softly. "What'd ya dream, baby?"

“It was. . .” you can hardly form words thinking about it. It was so vivid, so real. “We were right here, like this.” 

“Yeah?” He uses your ample moisture to lightly rub your clit. 

He begins to make peace with himself that this might happen before he wants. He hooks his fingers into your panties. “Let’s take these off for a lil bit, hmm? Let her breathe.” 

“Okay.”  You bend your knees as he pulls your soaked panties down. 

—-

"We were right here like this, in the dream?" He repeats. 

“You took it out of your pants,” you whisper. He moans softly, takes his hand away, and jostles behind you. Then you feel his naked cock against your skin. Your breath hitches and you whimper at the contact.  He returns his hand between your legs and lazily circles your clit, pressing his naked dick against you.

"Took it out like this?" He asks soft and deep.

"Yeah," 

He thrusts against you and whispers in your ear, "Then what?"

"You put it between my legs." 

He inhales sharply then wedges his cock between your thighs, shuddering as he slides it forward along your dripping seam and the head meets his fingers on your clit. 

You tilt your hips and he whispers, "Oh, baby. Like this?"

"No, you put it inside," you whisper. 

Joel's breath hitches and he twitches against your heat. You moan. He slides slowly through your folds to your clit and back. He tries to slow down and think it over, but there are no thoughts, just his stiff, aching cock and your tight little pussy begging for it.

——

“Will you do that,” you ask, looking over your shoulder but not enough to meet his eyes. 

Joel takes a deep breath. “You think I should? Don’t wanna wait for a bed?” He thrusts in small pulses. “Just a few days, baby.”

“They wanna be together real bad,” you whisper. “how they’re meant to be," you remind him.  

Joel groans at your words. “I know, baby doll.” He takes a deep breath. “How’d it feel in your dream?”

“Full, really full,” you tell him, then sigh. “Felt so big.’

“Ohh, fuck,” Joel breathes into your hair and slides his cock against you, wet and stiff.

“It was like I was hugging you with my, um,” you say, then swallow and tilt your hips. "Hugging it."

“God damn,” he sighs. He pulls his cock back, and as he slides it forward again, it catches at your entrance. You spread your thighs ever so slightly. “You sure ‘bout this,” he confirms, and uses the hand between your legs to nestle his tip just inside. You gasp. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes, please. Joel, please,” you whine. You push back on him with a small grunt, stretching yourself open on his tip. 

“Oh god, baby,” he sighs, then he holds you still and slowly pushes himself inside with a quiet groan muffled by your hair. “Fuck, you’re–ohh, you’re tight.”  You gasp as his girth parts your walls and your body makes room for him.  “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod urgently, and he twitches inside you. 

You shiver with pleasure as he pushes further and sighs, “Oh, baby.” 

“Joel,” you whine, “its so big”

“Too big?”

“No,” you reassure him. “I want it.”

He pushes the rest of himself in until his pelvis is flush. He breathes heavily and mutters, “fuck.”

You moan and push back on him. “s’perfect,” you whine.

“you like havin’ me in here?”

“I love it,” you say. 

“As much as the dream?”

“More than the dream.”

“What happened next?” he asks

“Then you it moved like you do in my hand.”

“Yeah,” he begins to rock his hips, his thick cock dragging inside you. “Like this?”

“nnngghh–yeah,” you nod then gasp as you're filled by his length again. “ohhh,” you moan. "And then you came inside—”

He groans, then pants as he’s moving inside you, “Ohh fuck, sweetie I can’t—ohh, I can’t do that, uggghh–god damn.”

“Felt so good, like a massage”

“Ohh, baby, please don’t–”

“And warm”

“Fuck,” he breathes and covers your mouth with his free hand, bicep flexing under your neck as he does it. No way he’s gonna last with you talking like that. 

He begins to slowly move again and you whimper.  You’re right, it is like you’re hugging him. You’re so tight and wet for him, taking his cock so good. 

"Good girl," he whispers, burying his length in you every second or so, only pulling back halfway each time. 

"Such a good girl, wantin' my cock so bad." He moans. "Waitin' all this time—uggh." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts. "That's my girl, takin' me so good," his next thrust is harder and you moan. "Yeah, just like that," he breathes.  His hand teases your clit as he fucks you. You whimper and he repeats, "just like that," his voice shakier, his breath heavier on your ear, “yeah.”

You moan into his hand, and his fingers circle your clit. “C’mon, baby,” he pants. “Gonna come on my cock?” You nod and hum your agreement. “Better do it now, then, you can do it.”

You let go and your clit pulses madly, your walls clench down on him. It feels so good, your eyes well up in tears.

“Ohh, baby,” he sighs, and suddenly pulls out. He replaces his cock with two fingers that your cunt begins to hug. “Such a good girl, squeezin’ my fingers.”  

His aching arousal presses against your ass, and he humps against you as he fingers you. “Ohh, yea--ohhhh.” His cock begins to pulse, spreading a silky warmth across your skin. He moans and sighs as you finish coming on his fingers and his balls empty. 

—-

He uses a shirt of his to clean you up. As his breathing calms down, he hears you sniffling. “Hey, hey, you okay, sweetie?”

You’re fine, more than fine, but you can’t talk.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself when you don’t answer.  He peeks over your side, gently stroking your arm. “Hey, c’mere, talk to me, sweetie.”  You turn around and face him.  “You okay, honey?”

You nod and smile at him with watery eyes.

His brows knit as he finishes catching his breath.  He kisses you on the forehead and wraps you in a hug. You sniffle again and he speaks into your hair. “I know that was a big deal for you, baby.”  He pulls his head back and tilts your chin up. “It was big for me too, okay?” You nod.  He reads your eyes, then presses his lips into yours. He reads your face again, then repeats the kiss and you kiss him back. He kisses you on the forehead and holds you, stroking your head. You fall asleep holding each other face-to-face.

-----

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Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your comments and reblogs go a long way in motivation so if you liked it plz consider saying something 🫶. my joel masterlist has 🍒 on virginity loss fics. Left in Lincoln is a pretty similar Joel, in terms of how he is with you sexually. For more Joel POV, the most recent raider, Night Air, has a lot.

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[fuckmeyer]

i love that the fill-in-the-blank part of Edward & Bella's honeymoon is implied to be this magical, transcendent experience despite it being a logistical nightmare

they've been traveling a minimum 24 hours with multiple stops & timezone changes. what's the next move? sleep? food? absolutely not. "let's take a midnight swim." how many braincells went into that decision? ya girl been crunched like a sardine in a plane & a boat for a billion years, & you can't give her the courtesy of a pre-sex stretch??? no pre-sex dinner??? you expect her to fuck on airline pretzels & a thimble of water??? asinine. but buckle up bc shit gets crazier

she's like "ok time to freshen up," & SHAVES HER LEGS (possibly her PUSSY??? god forbid. but it is 2006...) FOR THE 2ND TIME IN TWO DAYS. huh???? you are creating tiny cuts & opening your pores RIGHT BEFORE TAKING A DIP IN THE OCEAN. GIRL. OW. & let's hope you aren't one of the 50-80% of teens out there with keratosis pilaris bc you are about to WRECK THAT SKIN

Edward stans dni with the watsonian explanation bc I KNOW, he's taking A Dip so he can warm up & he a SCAIRT VIRGIN. READ. SIGNED. NOTARIZED. but what's next? where you gonna have sex Edward? the ocean? water washes away natural lube & creates SO much friction girl you are on the pain train to Yikesville population YOU and a STAPH INFECTION

so where to fuck? girlies may think, "sex on the beach. SO romantic." NO!!!!!!!!!!!! sand in the vag??? sand in ur BUTT??? horrible. not to mention y'all smell like fish & salt. fishy salty stank w/ your sandy ass balls slapping that freshly shaven salty-ass dried-ass puss?? bad. i rest my case yur honor

& you can't go right from ocean to bed since you make the sheets wet & fishy. which means after Dip they shower. BUT LOOK OUT: your klutzy wife could be one of 21.8 million people who sustains a nonfatal shower sex injury in a calendar year. & you STILL got water washing away Bella's arousal. you can't even finger her. so what? more foreplay? "ooh girl lemme run this sponge over you" BIG DEAL. you already did this sans sponge in the fucking ocean. she just gonna feel your abs again? NO. she gonna give you a handjob? BAD FRICTION, SEE ABOVE. & LOOK OUT, PART 2: by this point Bella is getting pruny & ALSO her skin is gonna dry out not only bc she shaved & took A Salty Dip but now she's got hot water all over her fuckin beef jerky-ass legs. where's the shea butter???? did you pack that Edward???? are you planning on moisturizing her??? bc if not she is in HELL.

time check: it's been like an hour since you got there after a day-long flight with NO nap & NO eat & you're just NOW getting to bed. it's like 1am??? & you haven't even fucked around enough to find out??? foul. since you can't even kiss w/ tongue, oral is probs off the table. ditto for Bella since Edward can literally punch a hole thru the back of her throat with his cock. so foreplay is fingering, mutual masturbation, & Smoldering Gazes ONLY. good news: Doctor Cullen Jr. knows she's gotta come before she's ready to Fuck, so that's a solid win. but lord knows ya gotta PIV or it ain't real (sighs in gay)

lbr: feminist icon Bella Swan tops. like YES i know Edward "Catholic Victorian Boy" "2008 male lead" "Great-Value James Bond" Cullen should be Thee Top doing Daddy Dom Missionary, but also, ima need Edward girlies to get a fucking grip & realize he is not capable of meeting the moment at the first go. sorry. no way Edward trusts himself enough to be the Missionary Man of your dreams. by contrast, Bella "Certified Monster Fucker" "We've Been Dating for 3 Hours When Can We Fuck" "There's a War Going On but We Should Fuck in This Tent" Swan is absolutely impaling herself on that vamp cock. & she is riding it out til the end my friends. service bottom Edward is gripping the sheets for dear life hoping his dick doesn't tear a hole through her & prolapse her fuckin critical organs. & THAT is what we call a honeymoon

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Another dp x dc cause why not. Tim is 19 and Jason is 22, and these murderous middle children are hanging out on patrol when the chaotic little shit that is a 16 y/o Danny Fenton crash lands on their roof. He detransformed while flying due to exhaustion.

Danny: Owwww

Jason: Holy shit, kid, are you alright??

Tim: Where did you fall from?

Danny, testing himself for injuries: Eh, I've had worse. Not even top five on my list of crash landings

Jason: That's not helping your case.

Danny, finally looks at the brothers mid getting up: Holy Shit! You're Red Hood and Red Robin! Man, I know so many people who are going to be soooo jealous.

Tim: Even of the crash landing part?

Danny, beaming: Crash landing is, like, the least embarrassing thing I could have done to meet y'all.

Jason: That sounds like a story.

Tim: Also incredibly unsafe. Are you sure you're okay?

Danny, shrugs: Yeah, I'm good. Just tired, probably gonna take a nap soon. Can you point me to the nearest graveyard?

Jason: Why.. why do you need to go to the nearest graveyard?

Danny: To nap?

Jason: Just- Why are you planning to nap in a graveyard?

Danny, realizing that what he said is not normal: ... because it helps? And I'm less likely to be harassed?

Tim, curiously: How does it help?

Danny: uuuh... don't tell batman?

Jason and Tim share a look and come to a silent agreement.

Tim: Only if you tell us how you ended up in Gotham.

Danny:.... Yeah, okay, fair. I didn't exactly know I was heading here? I was- I just needed to get away as fast and as far as I could. I picked a direction and flew til I obviously couldn't *gestures to the spot he landed*

Jason, concerned: What or who are you running from?

Danny: Eh, my parents? Local government? Both. My less-than-human-ness got exposed, and I wasn't testing out if my parents' obsession with ghosts would win over any parental love they may have felt. I got shot too many times when they didn't know to have faith in that knowing would help my situation.

Danny: Oh! So my parents are walking OSHA violations and I had an accident that should have killed me. I mean, it kind of did. Which is why graveyard naps help, the ambient ectoplasum makes me heal and regain my energy faster! The other ghosts call me a halfa since I'm an awkward middle ground between the living and dead and....um, I definitely have a concussion

Jason, weakly: What makes you say that?

Danny: My friends and sisters say I'm allergic to straight answers and I'm just putting it all out there. Also wavey

Tim, stepping closer: Wavey?

Danny, tracing invisible waves on a building: Wavey. Can we go to a graveyard now?

Jason, picking Danny up: Sure, kid. You said it helps?

Danny, let's it happen: Yeah.. it's not a cure-all, but it helps

Danny, waits til they're on the ground: Once my head clears, I can probably help with the weirdness of your ectoplasum. Nice to know I'm not alone in the "undead" hero gig

Jason, trips a little: You- wha- Kid?

Tim: Interesting. You can tell he died?

Danny: Yeah? I can sense ectoplasum, the dead, and the undead? It comes with the being dead thing

Jason, pressing a button so his bike has a high back that he can tie Danny to: You seem pretty alive to me

Danny: That's sweet, but if my vitals look anything like a normal human's, I'm actively dying. My heart rate and body temperature are closer to a corpse.

Tim, checks both those things and his eyes: okay, that's scary. And you definitely have a concussion. I believe we should take him to see Leslie, just to make sure his concussion isn't too bad.

Jason: He definitely should see the good doctor before we drop him off for a nap in the graveyard

Danny, panicking: No Doctors! No Hospitals!

Tim: She runs a small clinic, actually. We go to her if we get particularly injured.

Jason: Plus, she ain't no snitch

Danny: I don't know...

Tim: What would make you more comfortable with going?

Danny: I.... I don't know. It's been years since I went to a doctor or clinic.

Tim: Would it help if Hood or I stayed with you the whole time?

Danny: Aren't you supposed to be patrolling Gotham?

Jason: we can do that after we get you set up

Tim: I have a safe house he can stay at after he gets his nap

Jason: Sounds like a plan

Danny: Man, this feels like princess treatment

Tim, frowning: It's basic decency

Danny, head tilt: Is it?

Jason: Yes. How old even are you?

Danny: 16, why?

Tim and Jason share disbelieving looks. They would have pegged him at 13, maybe 14 if malnutrition was involved.

Jason: Dude, what have you been eating? I'm pretty sure Red was bigger than you and he's the smallest bird.

Tim: Asshole

Jason: Baby Bat is taller than you currently, and he's 4 years younger than you. Embrace your short king self, Red

Tim, pouting: Not all of us can have their childhood malnutrition and physical traumas erased by evil cool-aid

Jason: I don't know. Ra's likes you enough you could probably ask

Tim, makes a disgusted face: No thanks. Rather stay short than deal with that creep

Danny, mumbling: why does that name sound familiar? Ra's Ra's Ra's Ra's-

Danny, jolts: Al Gul???

Tim, suspicious: know him?

Danny: Yeah! Worst summoning ever!

Jason: You can be summoned?

Danny, embarrassed: Yeahhhhh, I beat the ghost king in single combat and now am technically king? Sort of? More prince, since I'm considered a baby. Who'd want a 2 year old ruling? I have people I trust making decisions on my behalf til I'm an adult by ghost standards

Jason: Kid.. How is your life even weirder than ours?

Danny, shrugs: I was doomed from birth.

Tim: We'll continue this conversation after Leslie checks you out

Danny: That's fair

Danny not only has a concussion, but his leg is broken (he didn't notice) and has some burns (from his escape). He gets his nap at the graveyard, which does speed up his healing, so Tim and Jason ferry him between the save house and the graveyard several times as he heals. Before Danny knows it, he's been adopted by these 2 vigilantes. Danny shows them his Phantom form at the same time Tim and Jason reveal their civilian IDs.

Tim and Jason gaslight the rest of the batfam about Danny always being there for shits and giggles, just take him to a family dinner and act like nothing is happening. Danny, always one for chaos, plays along. Damian is so mad about. Cass and Steph are delighted. Bruce, Dick, and Duke are so confused, but Duke is happy to not be the only Meta now. Alfred and Barbara learned about Danny beforehand because they know all.

[mrsarnold]

glasses paige who accidentally cums when strapping reader down THANK YEW

♪ now playing `` ﹕ dark red by steve lacy ❊

pairing ! p. bueckers x fem!reader

warnings smut, subbutdom!paige, dom!reader at some point, championship, pet names , strap (r recieving, paige still getting off), a little fast paced

summary after the championship paige took you home to celebrate her way but ended being..

The final cheer was cheered the confetti rained down on the team. They really won the championship. The adrenaline hit Paige like crack as she ran to courtside and pulled you into a big kiss and put the hat on your head. She made sure none of the cameras were facing y'all way.

"Im so so proud of you baby."

"Yea? prove it to me. The team ain't leaving til later lets go home."

Her words alone made you squirm in your seat as you stood up unknownly and she told the team she was leaving before yall headed out to your car.

Not even 10 minutes later y'all ended up in y'all condo kissing everywhere around the apartment. Kitchen counter, wall, couch. Yea it's gonna be a long night.

Next thing you know you paige was propped up on her pillow, resting against the headboard as you bounced on her strap. "Look so pretty mama", Paige hummed out as she guided your hips and fixing her glasses here and there, slapping your ass here and there. Your whines and moans filled the room as you continued to bounce.

Everything felt well until you heard something you thought you wouldn't.

"Mama you doing so well- mmph", Paige unmindly moaned out making you feel a bit shocked. You then looked down seeing the bottom of the strap hitting her core through her boxers.

"Paige did you just moan?"

"What no- wait shit keep going."

You nodded and continued to bounce, picking your pace up making both of y'all moan. "You close pretty girl? i am too keep going", Paige moaned out her glasses falling off her face as she bucked her hips up.

"Mhm- mmph im cumming", You moaned out as came all over the strap, riding your high out. Not to long later Paige came as well.

"Y'know we should have a double ended strap.

tags @janaelalfysblunt @kamii-2 @sweetbcgs

[mcrdvcks]

i just need this love spiral

summary: Logan just wants one night alone with you.

word count: 1.5k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: here was the request that inspired this!

this is set in the same world as Deck The Halls, but you don't have to read that to understand this!

(also this may be my shortest oneshot ever!?)

warnings/tags: reader and logan have a bio kid, laura, fluff, mention of drinking wine, implied sex

Mornings were always Logan’s favorite part of the day—a close second was nighttime. In the mornings there was usually nothing to worry about, he could hold you for as long as he’d like with no interruptions.

Until Laura came along. Then Sierra. Then Rocky, your rescue pit bull.

And now, mornings usually meant a cramped bed, Rocky taking up the bottom half, curled up by Laura, and Sierra curled up between you and Logan.

Logan let out a slow exhale, staring at the ceiling. His arm was pinned under Sierra’s small body, her head tucked into your shoulder. Laura was sprawled out, one foot kicking into his ribs. And Rocky—damn dog—had taken up the whole bottom half of the bed, his body curled up against Laura’s legs.

This wasn’t what he had in mind when he woke up.

He turned his head slightly, watching you sleep. Peaceful. Comfortable. Completely unaware of the fact that he was being physically restrained by your children and a dog. His wife was right there, within arm’s reach, and yet completely inaccessible.

He sighed again, quieter this time.

Then Sierra shifted, rolling toward him in her sleep, and smacked him in the face with her tiny hand.

Logan groaned, running a hand down his face. That was it. Enough was enough.

He carefully peeled Sierra off his arm, settling her between you and Laura. She didn’t even stir. Then he scooted down, maneuvering around Rocky’s dead weight and slipping out of bed as quietly as possible.

You mumbled something in your sleep but didn’t wake. He reached over, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face.

Then, before you could stop him, he hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you out of bed.

"Logan," you yelped, barely catching yourself as he dragged you toward the door. "What are you—"

"Shh," he muttered, leading you out of the room and shutting the door behind him. "You’re mine for five minutes. That’s all I’m askin’."

You blinked at him, still groggy. "What?"

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, pulling you toward the couch. "Five minutes. Just me and you. No kids, no dog, no elbows in my ribs."

You let him drag you along, still trying to wake up. "You’re that desperate?"

"Yeah," he admitted without shame, settling onto the couch and pulling you onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close like he’d been deprived for days instead of just a few hours.

You sighed, resting your forehead against his. "You’re ridiculous."

"Maybe." His hands ran slowly up and down your back, warm and steady. "Ain't like I don’t love ‘em. But I’d like to wake up next to my wife at least once in a while, not buried under a pile of kids and a damn dog."

You snorted. "You’re the one who said Rocky could sleep in the bed when it storms."

"Didn’t mean every night," he grumbled, nuzzling into your neck. "And Sierra—she’s got her own bed, but no, she’s gotta be right in the middle. Laura’s got a whole room, but she still sneaks in."

"They love you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he muttered, but you could hear the affection in his voice. He exhaled slowly, his grip tightening just a little. "Just wanted a minute with you."

You softened at that, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "You could’ve just woken me up earlier."

"Tried. You looked too peaceful," he admitted. "Didn’t have the heart to move you ‘til I got smacked in the face."

You grinned. "Sierra?"

"Who else?"

You laughed quietly, fingers brushing through his hair. "She’s got good aim."

"Real funny," he deadpanned, but his hold on you stayed firm, like he was soaking up every second.

You hummed, leaning into him. "Guess we’ll have to start locking the door, huh?"

"Already thought about it," he said. "If I don't, I'm never gettin’ you to myself again."

You smirked. "So dramatic."

"Call it whatever you want." He pressed a kiss to your temple, voice low. "You're mine first, remember that."

"Yeah?" You tilted your head, lips just brushing his. "You sure about that? Because I think Sierra might have something to say about it."

Logan groaned, letting his head fall back against the couch. "Gonna start fightin’ a five-year-old for my own wife. This is my life now."

You grinned. "Yep."

His hands slid lower, gripping your hips. "Lock the door tonight."

You bit back a laugh. "We’ll see."

---

Though Logan couldn’t technically get drunk, let alone tipsy, your alcohol tolerance was much lower now that you had Sierra. Which meant that after a small glass of wine you felt like you were on the moon.

Logan locked the bedroom door with a quiet click, turning back to you with a smirk. "Not takin' any chances tonight."

You laughed, a little loopy from the wine as you flopped onto the bed. "How responsible of you."

He climbed in after you, hands already finding your waist as he pulled you close. "Not responsible—just tired of gettin’ cockblocked by my own kids."

You snorted, wrapping your arms around his neck. "You are dramatic."

He hummed, nuzzling into your neck. "Maybe. But I finally got you all to myself."

His lips brushed against your skin, slow and teasing, his hands sliding up your back. You sighed, relaxing into him, fingertips trailing through his hair.

"Y'know," you murmured, tilting your head to give him better access, "I think the wine's making me very agreeable."

Logan chuckled against your throat, his breath warm. "Yeah? That so?"

"Mhm." You grinned, pulling back just enough to look at him. "You should take advantage of that."

His grip tightened on your hips. "Oh, I plan to."

Logan kissed you, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. His hands slid under your shirt, fingertips trailing warm patterns against your skin. You sighed against his lips, pressing closer, feeling the familiar heat coil between you.

Then—

Click.

The unmistakable sound of the door unlocking.

Logan froze. So did you.

Before either of you could react, the door creaked open, and small footsteps padded into the room.

"Mommy? Daddy?" Sierra’s sleepy voice cut through the darkness.

Logan exhaled sharply through his nose, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder. You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. His grip on you loosened just enough for you to shift, tilting your head toward the door.

"Sierra, honey, what’s wrong?"

"Rocky took my blanket," she mumbled.

From the doorway, Rocky let out a soft huff, the kind of noise that said he wasn’t giving it back anytime soon.

Logan groaned quietly, rolling onto his back. "I locked that damn door."

"She’s five," you whispered, amused. "Locks mean nothing to her."

Sierra took a few steps closer, rubbing her eyes. "Can I sleep with you?"

You started to sit up, but Logan caught your wrist. "Nope. No way. Not tonight," he muttered under his breath, then turned his head toward Sierra. "You got your own bed, kid. Go back to it."

She pouted. "But Rocky—"

"—is a thief, I know," Logan grumbled. "Go grab another blanket."

Sierra huffed, clearly unimpressed with the suggestion. "But—"

"Laura," Logan called, already knowing his other kid was lurking.

A beat of silence, then—

"How’d you know?" Laura’s voice piped up from the hall.

Logan scrubbed a hand down his face. "Because I ain’t stupid."

Laura stepped into view, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her face. "We were gonna see if we could sneak in without you noticing."

"Yeah, well, noticed," Logan muttered. "Not happening tonight."

Sierra’s bottom lip wobbled. "But—"

"Nope," Logan cut her off. "Go on. Back to bed, both of you."

Laura didn’t argue, but Sierra whined, "Daddy—"

Logan sighed, sitting up. "Sierra, sweetheart, I love ya, but me and your mom need some time alone."

You pressed your lips together to stifle a laugh. Wrong choice of words.

Laura snorted. "Gross."

Sierra frowned, still half-asleep. "Why?"

Logan sighed again, dragging a hand through his hair. "Because I said so."

Sierra huffed dramatically, turning on her heel. "Fine."

Laura grabbed her hand, leading her away. "Come on, before they start kissing again."

Sierra made a gagging noise, and just like that, the two of them were gone, the door closing behind them.

Logan leaned back against the pillows, eyes closed. "I’m puttin’ a deadbolt on that damn door."

You laughed, rolling onto your side to face him. "You’re really struggling, huh?"

"You have no idea," he muttered, tugging you back into his arms. His grip was firm, like he was making up for lost time. "Now, where were we?"

You smirked, brushing your lips against his. "I think Rocky was about to steal another blanket."

Logan groaned. "That dog’s lucky I love him."

"Yeah, yeah," you teased, threading your fingers through his hair. "Now, are you gonna keep talking, or…?"

He didn’t need to be told twice.

[buckgasms]

Ok I'm depressed so I wanna think about Bucky with a breeding kink? Join me?

I don't know which Bucky I'm imagining but I know he's beefy, thick and hair dusted body. Long hair and beard because that fills me with bubbles.

I reckon it starts with kissing because he knows exactly where to kiss you to make you weak at the knees. Lips, cheeks, neck, throat, chest and breasts. He takes his time kissing you all over.

And imagine feeling his chest hair rubbing on your skin. Or his cool metal hand gently wrapping around your throat, squeezing just gently enough to make your eyes roll.

Hmm and running your hands over his chest, or digging fingers into his back muscles. Tugging at his hair? Making him moan into your mouth as he kisses you.

Maybe it starts off romantic? Bodies pressed together, the back of your thighs pressed against the front of his. The raw power of his muscles making your whole body shudder.

He's gonna manhandle you like a pro. Like gripping your ankles together by his shoulder and pounding in to you.

Or holding your thighs wide open so he can stop you from trying to close your legs and push him off when you get too sensitive.

Grabbing your wrists too so your hands can't do anything to stop him from continuing onwards. Filling you up again.

Uh and he's gonna fill you up so much.

Like it's Bucky, he's got a lot but he's also so fucking horny so it's almost like he has more just at the thought of filling you up.

The first time he is happy, but it's barely there.

The second time your pussy is a little messier and a little more swollen.

By the fourth, you have a pool of white filling up your hole, and it's leaking out of you making him vibrate with possessive energy.

He swirls his finger around your clit, spreading his cum all over you. He wants to cum on you again, it just looks so good.

Dirty talk is on point

"Gonna fill up this little hole til you can't move"

"All mine baby, look at that, all mine"

"So perfect for me."

"No no baby, don't hide from me, gonna make me a daddy ain't ya? Can't have you closing those legs"

"Show me baby, show me that pretty cunt full of cum huh?"

And what about if he makes you clean his cock of all the cum and juices? Making a mess of your face, already tear stained and flushed.

Does he cum on your face, or back in your pussy? Who cares, it's always a delight.

And when you finally feel like it's finished?

He manoeuvres your body to make sure things stay put.

He cradles your body in his and wraps a blanket around your bodies.

Maybe once you've dozed for a bit he gets restless, hearing his pretty girl whimpering in her sleep. He rubs his fingers through your messy, puffy folds and your voice breaks as he wakes you up with his desire.

"Oh baby... Gonna have to fill you up again..."

🩷🩷

Forgive me.....

[cvnntagious]

ও ⋮ 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐨𝐲!𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⸝⸝

all my fuckboy!matt blurbs, fics, and wips : here

fratboy!chris ver. here

⇢ SFW

❒ fuckboy!matt who, like his title entails, is a fuckboy. much unlike (fratboy!)chris, he's quick to entertain girls who throw themselves at him

❒ fuckboy!matt who 'isnt afraid of commitment'

" c'mon, y'think i'm scared of that shit? what's to be scared of? trust me, if i wanted to, i could keep 'er by m'side forever. "

" so... what? you wanna keep playing? "

" playin'? nah, m'jus havin' my fun. why settle down now? "

❒ fuckboy!matt who spends most of his time at the frat with chris

❒ fuckboy!matt who, despite his brother's constant begging, refuses to commit to chris' fraternity

❒ fuckboy!matt who mostly meets girls through chris, whether they're a client of chris' who happened to run into him, or chris sent them his way

❒ fuckboy!matt who is surprisingly top of his classes, taking homework and studying very seriously

❒ fuckboy!matt who does chris' homework

❒ fuckboy!matt who's dormmate is nick

❒ fuckboy!matt who doesn't deal, and actually happens to constantly be on chris' ass about being reckless

" gonna get fuckin' caught with that, " he said, snatching the little baggie from his brothers hand

" don't be a pussy matt, i got people feinin' for that shit—s'good money. "

" nothin' pussy about this, s'for your own good. you ain't heard twelve's out here really searchin' for this shit right now? i'm not bailing y'out, dickhead. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who only really has his brothers at the end of the day, so he allows himself to only care for them and no one else

❒ fuckboy!matt who never calls you anything but sweetheart, even in his most irritated moments

❒ fuckboy!matt who noticed you in one of his classes on the very first day, but only got the guts to actually talk to you when chris told him to keep you occupied so he could head off with your friend

" we got hella booze, if y'drink, kid... I'll be taking her, and, um- " chris reached over to slap matt's chest as a gesture, " oh, perfect. this's my brother, matt. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who's an asshole and he knows it, not caring how his words or actions affect others (unless you're nick and chris, of course)

⇢ NSFW

❒ fuckboy!matt who was never one to go back for more until he met you

❒ fuckboy!matt who, though he'd never admit it, hasn't so much as touched another girl since he'd gotten you in his bed

" you're seeing other people? "

" na— well, would it be a problem if i were? y'think we're together or sum'n "

" i guess not... "

" s'what i thought. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who's sex drive is crazy, sometimes making you wonder if he ever gets tired

" one more time. just one more, c'mon, i know you can take it, " meanwhile you're spent beneath him, sopping wet and trembling as you struggle to form words from your fourth orgasm

❒ fuckboy!matt who could eat it till he's blue in the face, if you'd let him

❒ fuckboy!matt who always ends up taking control when you ride him

❒ fuckboy!matt who loves when you scratch him, overstimulating you til you can't do any thing but scratch at his biceps or back

❒ fuckboy!matt who refuses to do anything without a condom... until he's drunk and needy, hands wandering as he 'forgets' all about the rubbers sitting in the drawer of his nightstand

❒ fuckboy!matt who'll say things just to upset/piss you off, just so he can fuck all those harsh emotions away

" aww, hurt y'feelings? won't - do - it - again, sweets, promise. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who's always down for a quickie—any time, any place

❒ fuckboy!matt who has no problem trying new positions, but usually sticks to speed bump, missionary, or any version of cowgirl

❒ fuckboy!matt who isn't embarrassed about being loud, not caring who could be hearing him

" fuckkk, sweetheart, keep backin' that into me. "

" ah- shit, oh, y'gonna make me cum. mm-mhm, do that shit again. "

a/n : pretend this didn't take years to get out cs i said i was gonna make headcanons for all my au's ages ago and basically stopped at fratboy!chris...

-love, grandma cvnty ☆!

[pascals-doll]

candy

ellie williams x reader

🫧 happy valentines day to all my beautiful followers | enjoy this vday special 🩷 am i uploading this ar midnight because a bitch had classes and work yes but its valentines (was technically) IM GGONNA WRITE AN ELLIE FIC 🧘‍♀️

🫧 inspired by the song candy by doja cat | bed of roses PT2

🫧 description: fluffy, cute surprises, reader knows how to know paint a bit, just fluff, cute fluff,ellie sings to you (i took the scene from the game because i cherish it sm) smut, SLUT SMUT💋, power dynamic, dom!ellie, sub!reader, you and ellie live together, reader is PUSSYHUNGRY (mmm im so- i would do anything for that tsunami), reader eats out ellie on stairs (you’re welcome), fingering, praises, no use of y/n, use of petnames like doll, mama, and good girl, very little degradation, hair pulling, clit sucking, face grinding, cum eating, just ellie getting eaten so good! enjoy

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

but you know that it ain't real cherry

know that it ain't real cherry

🫧

it was valetines day today which meant ellie got to spoil you rotten; it is very well- deserved.

you would always be very thoughtful with your gifts.

this valentines day, you sneakily woke up around 1 AM and worked until dawn on customizing a wooden workstation that you got her for her artwork.

you knew you had work in the morning but you would do anything for the woman who’s protected you, provided for you, and pleased you.

you painted the workstation very carefully a dark earth-green. you let each coat of paint dry before beginning to carefully paint details on it.

you were going to paint symbols for each of her favorite memories onto it. you took references from her own beautiful drawings.

one of the details you painted were the beginning of Joel’s; now her guitar, painting even the moth.

one of the guitar strings then ran around the whole work-station, dragging the brush till the end.

you began to draw small moths and different flowers with herbs carefully placing them along the string line.

lastly, finishing it up by drawing a silhouette of the both of your bodies intertwined, then painting an outline of ellie’s knife and joel’s gun side by side on the side of her workbench.

once you were done, you carved both of your initials into the side of the workbench.

you transfered all of her essentials from the small broken down drawers; that could barely hold up to her made with so much love customized workstation.

you made your way back into your shared warm bed, careful not to wake up ellie.

sunrise made its way into the sky, ellie waking up now as you now slept.

ellie noticed you got up in the middle of the night, searching for your warmth but she shrugged it off before knocking into slumber again.

ellie got up very quietly, planting a kiss on your head before heading into her work room to get her guitar.

she walked into her art room, stepping as she scans the room. she immediately stopped in her steps, her eyes falling onto your beautiful workstation.

ellie’s heart pounds outside of her chest, tears wanting to form in her hazel eyes as a rush of emotions take over her.

she walks around the small wooden dark-green station, her handing brushing it softly as she takes in your designs.

she couldnt help but think about although you had work sadly on valetines day, you still did this for her.

this was bigger than the world to ellie.

you were the most perfect girl and if one thing was for certain, ellie would be spending an eternity of valetine’s day with you.

🫧

I can be your sugar when you're fiendin' for that sweet spot

Put me in your mouth, baby, and eat it 'til your teeth rot

I can be your cherry, apple, pecan,

or your key lime

Baby, I got everything and so much more than she's got

you were now currently at work, you hated how you got called in today.

you asked ellie if she was going to be good with you going to work today, in which she responded by pulling down your panties.

lets just say, you had a very pleasant morning before going into work.

while you were away at work, ellie got to work on her surprise because eating your cum for breakfast wasn’t enough.

she went to almost all the floral shops she could, selling them out of their pink and red roses.

ellie covered the entryway with petals, even the staircase that leads upstairs, and leading all the way up into your room.

the living room, she had a fairy lights hung along with pink lit candles on the ground.

ellie had a huge case of flowers waiting for you, wrapped in the arrangement of your inital.

that was only the downstairs, your room was filled with more surprises.

your shared bed was covered in rose petals, a couple small gifts waiting for you while your surprise gift was tucked away by ellie.

ellie finished up any last miniute preparations before you came home from work.

she changed from her pj shirt and boyshorts from this morning to a flannel with a black-tee and some baggy shorts that exposed her Calvin Klein lining.

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

But you know that it ain't real cherry, know that it ain't real cherry

She's just like candy, she's so sweet (She's so sweet)

But you know that it ain't real, know that it ain't real

🫧

you came home a bit exhausted but excited because you picked up a teddy bear that held a heart with the writing “i love u” on it from a street vendor, leaving your job.

once you made it home, beginning to turn the keys to step through your front door.

you open the door to see your beautiful auburn-hair girlfriend.

she was sitting there on your shared loveseat, her beautiful fingers strumming her guitar.

the melodious tone from the strums of her guitar strumming the song your love for each other shares.

she began to sing softly “talking away” your hand cant help but go ovee your mouth as you felt tears begin to form.

the sound of her silky voice singing through your ears, making your heart pound and face hot.

“today’s another day to find you”

you could listen to ellie sing for the rest of your life, tears were already streaming down your face. ellie couldn’t look you in the eyes while she sang because if she did, she wouldn’t be able to finish.

you made her heart go a million miles per minute like a schoolgirl crush.

you made her stomach flutter like she was born with a butterfly nest inside her.

you made her soul shine like the sun after never-ending rain.

ellie finished serenating you, putting her guitar down

she finally looked up at you, clutching a teddy bear with tears streaming down your face.

before ellie could say anything, you ran into her arms; immediately taking you in to her embrace.

this was a feeling words couldn’t express, but only actions.

your heart felt like it was going to pop out of your chest with the clash of ellie’s lips onto yours.

you weren’t alone with ellie barely being able to catch her breath but so desperate for you.

the way your lips moved with such hasty movement but yet still passionately and amorously.

you began to walk towards the staircase, lips not leaving a moment. your eyes slightly opening time to time to make sure you were guiding you and ellie correctly.

“all i wanted-“ you began but were interrupted by her lips again.

“all day was to” ellie pulled away momentarily to let you continue.

“come home to this” you whined out against her lips, your tongue slightly licking over them.

🫧

Sugar coated, lies unfolded, you still lick the wrapper

It's addictive, you know this, but you still lick the wrapper

Sugar coated, lies unfolded, you still lick the wrapper

It's addictive, you know this, but you still lick the wrapper

you were fillied with arousal and need to please as you dropped to your knees…on the staircase. you could careless at this given moment.

your hands ran through her back, feeling each crevess of each toned muscle, then coming back around to her arms.

you gave her strong-toned arms a soft squeeze before having them go up to her chest. you needed to have her.

“doll i got a surprise in the room, lets-” ellie begins but you didn’t care.

“no” you said, looking her in the eyes as you unzip and unbutton her shorts “right here, right now” you whine out, pulling down ellie shorts completely.

ellie would be lying if she said you dying to eat her out on each other’s staircase wasn’t the hottest thing, especially on fucking valentine’s day.

it was you, how could she deny you.

“that desperate, mama?” she teases you as you peck her toned abdomen. you gave her a slight whimper as you nod.

she brings herself down to sit on the stairs, grabbing you by your jaw to pull you in for a kiss.

your lips meet again, your hand traveling down into her boxers immediately feeling seeping slick cunt “you drive me insane” you moan out, your mind was so drunk by her.

she had you high on her scent, taste, look, and touch. anything ellie did could have you on your knees, just like this.

your fingers begin to rub her clit in circular motion causing her breathing to hitch and soft moans of content escape her mouth as your lips travel down to her neck.

you begin to suck on the skin as your fingers massaged her clit, slightly putting pressure here and there causing ellie to let out gentle-yet-loud groan.

ellie’s hips began to rise to meet your hand “my beautiful doll-s’good f’me” she mumbled under her breathy moans.

you were sure you left her a purpletrail from her neck leading into her shoulder before going down a couple more steps.

you waste no time in pulling off her boxers, meeting with her wet pussy “s’pretty els, i love you.” you were just completely dazed by ellie at this point, wanting to please her and have her taste on you for days.

“you gonna drool or eat up, doll?” ellie smirks, she knew the effect she had on you and it made you fiend to please her even more.

your hands go to spread her thighs open a bit more before diving your head in between her legs. you met face to face with her juiced pussy, her slick coating your tongue as you lick a stripe.

“ah fuck, doll!” ellie moans out, her hips slightly bucking against your face as her hand had a grip on your hair.

the way you were on your knees on these steps buried into ellie’s pussy, your tongue collects her juices as you begin to swirl your tongue around her clit sucking softly.

she tasted just like candy, you grab her one of her thighs, hooking it up to balance on your shoulder.

the wider angle made her throw her head back “s’fuck doll! just like that. eat it just like that.” her vile voice praising the way you took the way she slopped her pussy against your tongue.

ellie began to work herself towards her orgasm on your tongue, her hand following the movement of your head.

you ate her out like this was your last meal, not wanting to let a single drop “god fuck-y-you’re insane!” she whined out as you worked you fucked her with yout tongue.

ellies stomach stomach flexes, her toned abdomen becoming more prominent as her breathy moans turn into pants and loud gutteral moans as you took your free hand; licking her asshole all the way up to her clit.

“fuck fuck fuck, doll! s’such a good girl” ellie’s hand swore she could’ve pulled your hair our by now but you could careless, the only thing on your mind was making this woman cum.

she deserved the way you ate her with delight, completely letting her use your face for her orgasm.

your nails dig into her thigh as you feel yourself slowly loosing your breath; but you were not leaving till she had came all over your face.

“s’close god! youre such a fuckin’ slut f’me.” her orgasm finally riding out.

“atta girl, lick it all up again.” she praises, pulling you back up from her pussy to her lips, tasting herself momentarily before her hand finds the back of your head guiding you to the white cum-beed that seaped out of her now fucked-out hole.

you licked her from asshole up, completely picking up her cum onto the tip on tongue causing you moan out as your lips were wrapped around her.

once you pulled away meeting her eyes, her cum covering your lips causing your face to glisten lightly.

“you’re a demon” ellie brings you into her embrace on the stairs.

“its not my fault you’re my favorite candy”

🫧

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

But you know that it ain't real cherry, know that it ain't real cherry

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

a/n > part 2 ??? 😇

[yanderedrabbles]

Hi, I love your drabbles. May I ask how would the yanderes react if the reader tries to escape or leave them?

'Til Death Do Us Part - yandere boys when you try and leave them

Yandere! Soldier is high strung and suspicious of everything. It just comes with the job. He isn't cruel, and he doesn't like hurting you, but if you make a run for it he won't hold back. Calloused hand crushing your windpipe as he drags you back, he'll remind you that nowhere in this godforsaken city is safer than with him. If he has to keep your hands tied for a few days, he will. Even if the ropes rub your skin raw. If your promise to behave, maybe he'll kiss it better.

Yandere! Cowboy is careful to always keep an eye on you. He ain't a fool - he knows that he frightens you. He knows you deserve a better man than him. But he's too selfish to let you go. He'll grab you jaw and glare at you with those coyote eyes. Whiskey and cigarettes on his breath as he pulls you up onto your tip toes and let's his lips just hover over yours. "Come hell or judgement, you ain't ever leavin' me. You got that sugar?"

Yandere! Boyfriend does not take it well when you tell him you want to take a break, that you need some space. He looks you dead in the eye and simply says, "No." He's the type to stand in front of the door and demand a detailed list of reasons you want to break up. And if he doesn't agree with them- and he never does - he simply will not accept things are over. If you insist on it and nothing he says can sway you, then you'll find out just how cozy he's made the basement.

Yandere! Cop's stalker persona is the exact thing he'll use to get you back into his arms. He knows the way you think, he knows the addresses of all your friends and family, he can track your bank purchases and card swipes. And on top of that, people are more than willing to talk to a cop about a poor, missing girl. And when he catches you, he'll make sure you're so terrified of your stalker that you'll never leave him, ever again.

Yandere! Gangster is helpless to stop you if you want to go anywhere without him. You're his boss afterall, and you'll put a bullet in his head the second he steps out of line. That doesn't stop him from begging to come with you. He's practically on his knees for you and looking every bit the kicked puppy. "Fine," you sigh, running your hands through his hair and letting your nails scrape against his neck, "But only if you promise to behave."

Yandere! Incubus feels his composure slipping the second you ask the abbot to let you leave for another abbey. He'll grab your arm and struggle to hide his claws, trying to reason with you. You're needed here, he'll remind you, and if the Holy Spirit guided you to this place, who are you to go against it? At night, he'll slip into your bed and trace his claws across your belly. He'll nip at your ear with his sharp, sharp teeth and hiss, "Whetever you go, I will always follow."

Yandere! Desert Bandit is the son of the dunes and sand. He knows every oasis, every well, every hidden mountain path. Even if you could make it out of his arms and past his men, the desert itself will lead him to you. He'll laugh when he finds you and boast to his men that his woman is smarter than them all, to have made it this far on her own. But when night comes, you'll find his grip tighter than ever before.

Yandere! Apocalypse Survivor knows you'll never leave him. The infected are terrifying and the other survivors are even worse. Still, he always keeps a close eye on you when you visit trading settlements - just because you won't leave, it doesn't mean someone else won't try and steal you for themselves.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Sorry for asking this question, but recently I really wanted to read something very sad (mmm... suffering ☺️) so I'm turning to you.

How would John react if he caught Nikolai with someone else? What would happen to their relationship then?👉👈

Oof. This one hurt.

cw: Nik cheats; I genuinely don't think he ever would, fyi. This was more an experiment in 'what if'. I thought about doing it from the perspective of 'they're not exclusive and Nik has had mixed messages', but I went for maximum pain.

Price had wanted to surprise Nik. Turn up at his hotel room, take him out, fall into bed for a bit, and then go pick up the kids from his sister's. The usual. He hadn't expected that day for his world to be ended by a pair of blue eyes and a jawline he could cut paracord with. Maybe ‘ended’ was a bit dramatic. Sure, it felt like it, but he had survived worse. He kept telling himself that. Over and over.

He'd never been one to cry, but he had blubbered like a baby behind the steering wheel of his Landie. The image of Nik with the blond in his arms, the hickie on his neck, kept circulating in his head like a taunt. It was there now as he stood in his office, Nik in the seat behind him, bright behind his eyes as he stared into space.

Price couldn't even look at him. When he did, he wanted to feel indignant rage, but all he felt was hurt. Misery. Betrayal. He needed his anger but all he wanted to do was cry more, and he no longer felt safe showing Nik that soft underbelly. He kept his face turned away.

“John, I…”

“I need t’ get tested,” Price said quietly, like Nik hadn't even spoken.

“I wore protection. I would not put you at risk of…”

“Really, Nik? Can I trust ya word on that?”

The words cut deep. Nik knew Price couldn't. It wasn't just their relationship he had discarded, but twenty years worth of implicit trust. The idea that Nik always had his back had vanished in a cloud of expensive cologne. Price lifted his left hand and ran his thumb over his wedding band.

“It was a mistake. I was foolish, I…”

“How many mistakes? Once, twice?”

“Twice.”

The knife sank just a little deeper. “So, you had to make sure then.”

“John…”

“Just him or have there been others?”

“No others.”

Price didn't respond. He just couldn't trust him. His thumb nail caught in one of the grooves of his wedding ring. Til death do us part. Did this count? It felt like death. His heart felt like it was about to give out any minute. “What did I do to deserve it?”

“You did nothing…”

There it was. The surge of rage. Price turned to look at Nik for the first time, his fists clenched and shaking. “Don't fuckin’ lie to me. No one shags some poxy bit on the side if they feel like they're eatin’ well at home. So what? What was it?”

Nik gazed up at Price with those warm brown eyes that had made Price fall in love with him. Had those eyes looked at the other bloke like that? Price felt his own prickle with tears again, but he made himself look.

Nik said nothing at first, and then his chin dropped as he sighed. “You are a brilliant father, a loving husband, but you are… busy.”

“Busy,” Price repeated, and he hated how his voice broke around the word. He turned away again, drew in a stuttering breath, the back of his wrist to his mouth.

“I made a… selfish choice. I…”

Price had taken a different role with the Army so they could have a family. Consultancy with a few away missions. It meant he commuted to base, but he could still do the bulk of domestic shit kids needed. He was busy. Busy building the life he thought Nik wanted. Perhaps they hadn't been intimate enough for a while, or…

“I will understand if you want a…” Nik swallowed, “...a divorce.”

“No,” Price said. “You ain't gettin’ off that easy. The kids need their dad, even if he's a lyin’, cheatin’ cunt. They don' need t’ know that. They worship you. And ‘m not doin’ the single father shit.”

“Then, how do we… what…”

“Open marriage. Can't trust ya not to do this again. You can shag who ya like, so can I. Wear protection, get tested every month. Kids don't see or get told any different. Then, when they've flown the nest, we sign the papers.”

Nik sat in stunned silence for a while. Price couldn't turn to look at him because a tear had escaped. The truth was the thought of being touched by anyone else disgusted him. He felt dirty now, like someone else’s dick had somehow touched him through Nik. Nik swallowed, and spoke finally. “I do not want anyone else.”

“At the moment. You jus’ got caught. Give yerself time.”

“John, please…”

“Is it the thought of someone else shaggin’ me, Nik? Is that what's hurtin’? Good. I hope it fuckin’ does.”

Fuck, he might just go and do it anyway. Find some random bloke at a club and let him go at it. Nik would see it, smell it. Maybe feel even a tiny shred of what Price did now. The thought of another man's hands on him made Price feel sick. He only wanted Nik’s. His heart broke all over again and more tears tracked down his cheeks.

“Then I would like to go to counseling,” Nik said.

“Whot for? So ya can get better at lyin’ t’ me?” Price asked, incredulous.

“We have another twelve years together. Maybe more. They do not need to be twelve years of suffering.”

“Shoulda thought of that before gettin’ yer dick wet in some twink.”

“Not for me, John. For you.”

“Get out my fuckin’ office before I decide collectin’ on your life insurance is a better shout.”

“John…”

“Now.”

The chair legs scraped as Nik stood. For a terrible second, Price felt his weight linger near. His entire body ached for those big arms to wrap around him, offer comfort to his broken heart, but he knew that act had been contaminated now. Poisoned. Nik had taken even that.

As the office door closed softly, Price managed to hold it together. The moment the footsteps had faded, he grabbed the chair Nik had been sitting in and threw it across the room. By the time he'd finished, his office looked like the CIA had been in to turn it over. He sat in the middle of it, his knees clutched to his chest, and sobbed until he was dry heaving.

He'd survived worse. But this was the first time in his life he'd wished it'd killed him.

[toxicanonymity]

Random food for thot that I thought you may enjoy - Joel and Tommy doing a kind of good cop/bad cop routine with a rescued, kind of feral reader. Reader has Gone Through It (maybe raider fodder or something idk) and is distrustful. Tommy is all smiles and sweet words, Joel is all grumpy but caring. I have a vivid picture in my mind of them trying to get reader to take a bath, and Tommy is trying to coax ‘C’mon sugar, it’ll be nice’ and then Joel just straight up tosses them into the tub, clothes and all.

Hope things are good with you and yours. As always, thank you for the joy you bring <3

Yes, tsuki!!! Yes!! I love it. Ty for sharing. 🩷🩷

------

"How 'bout we get you outta these dirty clothes, darlin'," Tommy suggests, and you shake your head no, curling into a ball. "Well, you ain't gotta be naked," he clarifies with a smile. "You can wear some clean clothes. How's that?"

You study his face in curiosity.

"You're gonna feel so much better," Tommy promises. "Even get ya set up with some hot water....How's that?"

He puts a big pot of water on the stove and roams around finding some clean clothes for you. He puts them in the bathroom with a towel.

When the water's ready, Tommy takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom. Your eyes well up in tears and you hug yourself, still not ready.

"Alright, listen," Tommy puts his hands gently on your shoulders. "You gotta do this for me, baby..."

"Just put her in the goddamn tub, Tommy," Joel demands from the bathroom door. "C'mon. Now. Before it gets cold."

Your eyes are wide as you look back and forth between them.

Tommy takes a deep breath and offers, "All right, how about we'll give you some privacy, and-"

Joel charges in, grabs you by your arm, pulls you to your feet, wrangles you over to the tub, and lifts you into it, clothes and all. You're squirming, and he keeps his hands firmly on your shoulders. "Cut it out, that's enough."

"Hey, hey," Tommy protests, "Get the hell off her!"

"I ain't sleepin' til we check her for bites," Joel says, "and I need some god damn sleep. Let's get this over with."

You look at Tommy with hopeful eyes, but he doesn't tell Joel to back off. He says, "Joel's right, darlin'. We gotta check ya."

You twist away from Joel's grasp, glare at him.

"Give us some space," Tommy asks.

"Treatin' her like a damn kitten," Joel grumbles. He steps back but doesn't leave the bathroom. He keeps a watchful eye on you.

Tommy coaxes you out of your shirt and undershirt, gently lifting your arms, pulling his gaze away from your chest every time his eyes linger. "Good," he whispers as you let him check you. His gentle fingertips are feather light on your skin. "Lotta bruises," he mutters. Just as you've calmed down, he says "Now, you know we gotta check your legs too..." and you start getting worked up again.

"Ain't bit, are ya?" Tommy asks.

No, you shook your head, and choked back tears.

"Those guys do somethin' to ya?" Tommy asks. You pinch your eyes shut. "We ain't gonna hurt ya....but we can't take care of you unless we know you ain't bit."

You stare at the water with tears falling from your cheeks, sitting back on your haunches in the water with your pants still on.

Tommy continues, "And I wanna take care of ya, sugar. I do..... so lemme get ya checked out, then you can relax, we'll get ya some clean clothes on, make a fire..."

"For Christ's sake, Tommy." Joel walks up to the tub and puts his hands on his knees. "I'm gonna pick you up now," He warns in a stern voice. Then he bends down, wraps an arm around you, and lifts you up.

"Pants, take the pants down, Tommy."

Tommy hesitates and asks you, "Is it okay?"

"DO IT, Tommy. God damn. Ain't got more time to waste."

Tommy peels your pants down, revealing a red pool in your underwear that begins to dye the bath water.

Both men get awkward. "Now that's just, uh, that's your uh, menstruation, ain't it?" Tommy asked. "I mean you ain't hurt, are ya?"

"I don't know," you whisper shakily.

"All right, take'em off, take'em off," Joel tells Tommy, then to you: "It's okay, baby. You're doin' good."

-------