#bumpin uglies

[saltybeardedtxnplaylist]

Underdog (Acoustic)

I've got scars and demons

Forming feelings

I can’t shake

I won’t live forever

And I’m never

Going to change

[sugarplumskully]

Thick Thighs & Evicerated Eyes 👁

[itscauseimbatman]

Paranoia paranoia digging in her claws

Got me running from my shadow and terrified of breaking laws

Anxiety is grabbing me to stare me in the face

Reminding me of my mortality and if I lose this race

[wonderingphish1111]

East Coast Punk Rock Reggae! Bumpin Uglies

[420seedless]

Bumpin Uglies at Asbury Lanes

[malrie]

when u recontextualize jasiper into it not working out in the end yet at the same time still have it be real meaningfully and full heartedly as a true first love (no matter what that entails) it makes it all the more sweeter and when they do eventually break up bc they’d be the most amicable exes in the world. they used to go on picnics and cut up watermelons for each other and do the most cliche romantic things in the world and it was sweet and good and genuine and when it’s over they appreciate each other for that experience and can move on knowing they held love for each other…

[thelastofhyde]

spring break.

pairing. joel miller x fem!reader

synopsis. joel miller knows how to take advantage of being tommy's brother- aka he skips out on patrol to fuck you.

warnings. no use of y/n, pwp, established relationship, jackson!joel, teacher!reader, smut ( softdom!joel, unprotected piv, creampie, hair pulling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, ig a little bit of breath play/suffocation??, implied cum eating/cumplay/cunnilingus )

word count. 841

hyde’s input. have this porn with plot as an apology for the fact i've still not posted chapter three of psecds.

read on ao3.

joel miller is late for patrol.

as a matter of fact, he has no intention of showing up at all. because why on earth would he bother himself with mounting his horse, when he's got his girl spread on all fours?

"see, told ya he'd take a hint eventually."

all of him is warm- his skin on your skin, his breath on your neck. somewhere between your second and fourth orgasm, you've melted into the worn mattress of his bed, face burrowed in the earthy scents of his sweated-out sheets. he's followed you down, the heavy weight of his body the perfect blanket to comfort you from the world beyond joel's bedroom.

"tommy, he's uh- fuckin' christ darling, he's smart like that," he's barely thrusting at this point, hips as aching as the slow pace his pulsing cock ruts into you, each roll forcing your swollen clit to grind down onto the soaked sheets. "'s probably tellin' em all i'm sick or sumn."

and he is sick.

sick in the head, not even flinching as he went from pounding into your sopping cunt- one hand on your hip and the other tangled in your hair, pulling your back into the perfect arch- to shoving your face down and muffling your protests the second tommy's knocking began to ring through the house, too blinded by a hunger-filled lust to see the sense in your encouraging words to go with tommy, do your part for the community.

he'd not meant for things to go so off the rails, honestly. all he'd wanted was a peaceful moment to indulge in the privilege of waking up to you for once. no early patrols stealing him away, none of your teaching duties forcing him to wake up cold and alone. he pulled you closer, tightened his hold around your waist and nuzzled his face deeper into the crook of your neck.

"straight out of heaven, that's what you are," the squelching of your soaking pussy fills the cosy room, remnants of previous orgasms painting a mess between your sweaty, sticky bodies. "my guardian angel, my girl."

but moments like this are so rare as of late. the pair of you hardly get days to yourselves. hell, you barely get any hours to yourselves. between jackson and it's people's incessant need to hold community activities, and ellie running rampant around the house whilst joel's working on making a living space out of the garage for her, and the countless hours of working you both find yourselves caught up in, joel's lucky to get a few desperate moments of "bumpin' uglies" before passing out for the night.

so how could he not seize this opportunity- an ellie-free house for once, a later than usual patrol shift, the school closed for spring break- and get himself tangled up in you, pretty and pliant in your freshly awakened state?

"c'mon, pretty baby," he's a cruel torturer, his gentle coo in your ear contrasting the returning vigour to his thrusts. it's a wonder the windows have yet to fog up. "show me how grateful you are to take this cock and give me one more, yeah? just one, s'all i'm askin'."

just one, a part of you feels like he's lying.

every part of him knows he's lying.

but you do as he asks, always. your toes curl, your breathing stops, your walls flutter and squeeze and cream around his cock for a fifth time. joel fucks you through it, always, soft hands soothing your burning skin. a few deep, brutish thrusts later and he follows suit, warmth filling you as he spills his cum inside you.

searching for air, you twist your neck to the right and free yourself from the mattress below. joel takes this as an invite to plant a wet, sloppy kiss against your cheek, the untrimmed ends of his greying beard scratching your skin just right.

it's blissful, and worth it, even if it means joel's left the team down one pair of hands on the patrol.

joel peels himself off you with a pleasured sigh, your limbs stretching out the aches in your muscles, freed at last from joel's lustful attack.

"make me lunch," you don't bother posing it as a question. he'll do whatever your will is, no questions asked. that's just the kind of man he's become, has always been. "since you're playing hooky at your real job."

he grumbles something behind you, hands soothing over the back of your thighs. his curiousity must get the best of him, trailing those big capable hands of his up to the globes of your ass and stretching them apart. cold air meets your pussy as his cum seeps out your seam, a pearly white slipping down your folds. you wince in discomfort. joel groans in frustration.

"gimme a second, angel," a kiss lands on your spine. a couple more follow right after, traveling lower each time. "gotta get my own fill first."

his tongue is warm as he licks a stripe up your cunt.

[stevmarie]

I did not put it in TWIU, I merely referenced it.

I mean, he played an entire Frank Sinatra album while he made love to Gajeel, Elvis is the obvious next step…

Don’t look at me like that, Laxus is an old fashioned man, of course he listens to Elvis Presley and Frank Sinatra.

Yes I know Mashima said he likes rock music.

No I don’t take constructive criticism.

Someone needs to tell me not to put “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” by Elvis Presley into TWIU

[hypotheticalpeople]

conservative cishet man scared that phytoestrogens are affecting his body and trans woman scared that concentrated bioidentical estradiol isn’t really affecting her body... bumpin’ uglies!

[fishhavetoes]

Steve who has a thing for mustaches.

Steve who comes home after a long day at work, and walks into his bathroom hoping to take a nice shower before bed. Steve who almost jumps out of his skin when he sees a certain cute metalhead staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

With his face in his hands Steve groans. ��Eddie, what have I told you about breaking into my house?”

The metal head pouts and turns to Steve.

“But Stevie it was important. You wouldn’t want me sad, would you pretty boy?”

And Steve… well Steve can’t really stay mad. Not when the guy he’s been having… non platonic feelings about… is staring at him with that face. That cute face. Often hot face. Sometimes sexy face. Okay, Steve thinks, i need to stop before I get carried away.

Steve realizes he’s been zoned out on Eddie’s lips when he clocks the expectant look on his face. Steve backtracks the conversation in his mind before he gets what Eddie’s waiting for.

“Okay, what’s so important that you had to break into my house at 8 pm for?”

Eddies face turnes slightly embarrassed and nervous, and he rushes out “IKindaWannaGrowAMustacheButIFeelLikeIdLookStupid”

And Steve’s brain stopped working. His cheeks turned pink and his eyes grew wide. All he can think of is Eddie with a mustache. His mind is racing with all the guys who helped him realize his bidentity. Freddie Mercury, Tangerine from Bullet Train, Jack from This Is Us, the list goes on (authors note: no it doesn’t, I’m lazy).

Eddie, somehow, takes this as a bad sign. He starts fidgeting and not making eye-contact. He starts rambling.

“Well I mean, I guess it’s a silly idea, and I don’t have to, I just thought, maybe, maybe you would know? If I looked good? Not that you look at me. Well not that you don’t look at me, I mean - I know you look at me because I look at you. Well I don’t look at you. I mean not like that. I just mean-“

Eddie turns bright red. He has no words left. He has no excuses. Nothing more to say.

Steve, for his part, try’s, he really does, to be normal about it.

“NO! No I think, I think mustaches are great. I love a guy with a mustache. Not that I love you! I mean, I mean I do but like, Yk. I just mean like I’d totally go down on a guy with a mustache Yk? Not that I’d go down on you! I mean I would! But only if you’re okay with it!!!”

They stare at each-other. The low hum of the bathroom light drones on in the background.

Eddie blinks, and let’s out a shaky breathe, and says “I am”

Steve just blinks and tilts his head (golden retriever lookin ass, smh), “you are what?”.

“I’m okay with it”

“Okay with what?”

“Stevie” Eddie looks genuinely pained, “work with me here big boy”

“Ed’s I literally don’t understand what you’re trying to say. What are you okay with?”

“I’m okay with you going down on me. Going to pound town. Doing the bedroom tango. Bumpin uglies. Adult slip n slide” (this is funny, you’re welcome)

Both of the poor dudes faces are getting redder by the minute.

Steve looks up, sighs, and reaches out, lightning fast to grab Eddie’s shirt and pull him closer. He can feel the older boys breath against his mouth. He likes it, he can feel how much he likes it. And when he surges forward and they end up against the wall pushing into each other, he can feel how much the other boy likes it too.

Eddie ends up growing a mustache.

~~~~

This is the mustache. Baby girl tangerine for life.

[applesontheground]

quiet coyote ⛓️

CHAPTER TWO for making me feel like i’m guilty | AO3

hiiii all, although spring break is now far from over i come bearing the next chapter to my little escapade dealing with a real doozy of one for this particular reader 😋

p.s. if you're waiting for the man himself, i got this last chapter of mostly exposition before we meet him. buckle up, hope you're ready, hands and feet in the rig at all times, etc etc .

SFW | Word Count: 2,796 | Rusty Nail x Female Reader contains more exposition, drinking, ment. that reader smokes on&off, the jokes get a bit sexual but nothing too fun ⬅ continued from take me far from here ➡ continued in 'cause i tread too softly 🎼: x (charli xcx voice) bumpin' that fic playlist one more time <3

Picking things off a shelf and getting gas in our cars sure aren’t resources that are made in house. More often than not, they’re brought to us. That isn’t to say it’s always done by mail. Sometimes, it’s by truck.

Kind of corny, maybe rework that line and not use it as the hook.

“We sure don’t count on the weather being perfect, or the truck to be running smoothly. Not like [the public] seem to.”

Great quote, even better replacing the words he did use to describe the public.

The poof of an industrial-sized pillow – powerful enough that it sounded like it slapped – hit you square in the chest, making you fumble the notebook in your lap. Dean crowed from behind a Mike’s Hard in his hand and groaned, “Come on, [Y/N], I told you there’s no point in that stupid story.”

You didn’t even give him a second blink, picking up the scattered notebook and grimacing out of a mild rage. He had caused your prime draft page to get bent out of shape, creased right on the corner at a position that went over the writing. “Prick…” You murmured to yourself, closing the book and gathering the bundle of pens from where they had splayed out on the bed amidst your writing.

It felt better to work on over getting drunk in another shoddy hotel room, you had decided as you watched the other four well into doing just that. For people trying to make it to Vegas, they sure were taking the magic out of all the drinking to be done there. Maybe he was right: This wasn’t worth it, but it was something for you to feel purpose through.

“Leave her alone, will you?” Natalie complained, smiling drearily through a haze of lemonade-flavored vodka on her breath. Dean quickly blew air through his mouth, similar to a raspberry, and he held his hands up. “Fine, you know what? I’ll leave our sweet little [Y/N] alone. Besides, we only brought her along for the car.”

You looked up again and nodded quaintly. Silence fell over the room, Mel and Heather looking up from their lovebirding to gawk slightly. When he smiled in his well-earned infamy, you retorted in a voice more desolate than you intended, “Well, at least we’re all being honest while getting shitfaced.”

The awkward quiet continued, Natalie giving a nasty look to him as you leaned over and took a Jell-O shot off the nightstand, downing it as you stepped out for some air. It did sting, as much as you hated to admit it. Maybe you were being a little too uptight for a vacation, you grimaced through the sickly sweet flavor of gelatin marinated in what tasted like straight gasoline.

You walked out to your car, a ginger tap of your hand curled into a fist on the hood as you made your way to the passenger side. The glovebox swung open, and revealed the one thing you wished hadn’t followed you out here, because the ugly thing about it was that it brought you comfort to see it still there. A plastic box of cigarettes and a lighter saved for the unfortunate event that you’d need something of the sort.

One long stare, the fresh image of Dean in your head and realizing it would mean that got the better of you, made you slam it shut. You paced to the backseat door and leaned up against it, staring at the sky with nothing but bubbling anger you were trying to take back down to a simmer, a powerless lump in your throat that finally came out in a quiet hiccup from swallowing the Jell-O shot too fast.

A final affirmation got you to push up and off the car again and walk back towards the hotel room, still needing something to relax but deciding you could find it elsewhere – or at least, wait on it a little longer.

Stale was the state of the group in the morning, and stale was the toast on your plate at another run-down diner planted somewhere far from any civilization.

You held your forehead, trying to chew some soggy hashbrowns as Natalie murmured, “Well, the lady at the counter told me we’re on the right path towards Vegas.”

“Oh, now we want to go?” Dean took a sip of his coffee, grimacing through it because he had refused any sugar or cream, “Thank fucking God, thought we’d just go die in the middle of the Mojave or something.” You hated his voice, but that did get a smirk out of you as you looked down at your plate, trying not to remember the shot of vodka you had taken with Mel and Heather before bed. One just hadn’t been enough, but the aftertaste of it all was far worse than anything your lackluster breakfast was offering.

“Remember-“ Dean gestured his mug to Mel on the other side of the booth, almost falling back asleep while Heather had stepped away to use the restroom and left him against the wall, “Marriages are quick and easy out there. I say tie the knot with her.” The other boy snorted, looking at the table as he reminded him, “I’m waiting until after graduation, if anything. Not during a fucking Spring Break.”

“Why not?” Dean shrugged, “I’d be tonguing a girl myself if we hadn’t brought these two killjoys.” He smiled in mocking kindness towards you and Natalie on either end of the benches, and you finally asked after unintentionally swearing to silence all morning, “Do you ever think before speaking? Just wondering.”

“He doesn’t.” Natalie quickly answered, losing track of just how much hot sauce she was putting on her scrambled eggs while glowering over at you before shooting her early morning ire back to the adjacent boy. You smirked slightly as Dean huffed, “What, [Y/N]? Do you want to get married, or something?”

Just as quick as you had spoken, you were silent again, only giving a dry chuckle. When he started to speak, you grinned at Heather sitting back down, and held up your hand.

“Dean, do you know what this is?” You asked, your middle and ring touching your thumb with both index and pinkie sticking straight up. Dean stared for a long pause, Natalie’s own grin growing as you scoffed, “What, never saw this at summer camp as a kid? Or just in general?”

“Sorry, I’m good with my hands but not that good, whatever that’s supposed to be.” He pointed to your fingers sticking upwards, and you rolled your eyes so heavily that you had felt the strain somewhere behind them in your head.

Heather explained, “It’s the quiet coyote symbol.” She held the same sign up next to yours, looking at Dean with a matching smile to the rest of the girls, “It’s for kids who just can’t learn to shut their mouths.”

You nodded, hand releasing in favor of taking your own coffee as Dean laughed. “You guys are fucking corny.”

“No,” Heather corrected, “Just good with our words.”

“And our hands.” You added, making both girls groan in shock. You were laughing for the first time since you had let these four in the car with you, catching the glances from other roadies sitting in at the commotion you all were causing from the uproar.

Back on the road, your friends had asked if your car could make it all the way out there for a couple nights of insanity, hookups, and whatever Las Vegas would bring the group. You had assured them it would be easy, but even driving it now made you second guess yourself. You were absolute trash at tuning up, oil changes, all that automotive care despite having knowledge to back you up, and something worth taking care of under your hands. It was a secret, and one of your lamented shames.

Still, it had gotten you through most of your run in college thus far. If she didn’t give out in the next year, she might even take you to graduation. You could have some faith in your car, just as you had faith in your story you were picking up on the way.

“What if-“ Mel spoke up from the backseat, staring out his window, “I drive, and [Y/N] can take a break?”

“Already said no,” You promptly responded, but Mel then begged, “Hear me out, hear me out before you say that.” You glanced at him in the rearview, then digressed as he looked back. “If someone else drives for you, think about what work you could get done.”

Natalie turned her head and added, “Get some desert photos, shots of the truck stops we pass?” Your hands flexed a bit on the wheel, and you finally gave a tilt of your head in thought. Mel had more trust in his pinkie toe than Dean when it came to people asking to take the wheel, and the suggestion was kind if it was genuine.

“Just think about it. Next stop is in an hour.” Mel patted the shoulder of the driver’s seat, sitting back again with Dean and Heather scooting over a bit to reacclimate him.

“It’s good you have something outside of this trip, we’re kind of losing the plot.” Heather then mentioned, and you smirked as Dean rebutted, “You’d rather read about blowjobs in restrooms and crank snorting than fucking Vegas.”

“Tomato, tomato.” Natalie concurred, making you grin a little more honestly now.

The next gas station came faster than you had hoped, the possibility up in the air as you tried not to linger on possible shots for your story, the golden stretch of land going on and on while on the road to your destination. No wonder people without a mind for direction, or an instinct and humility to ask for help would get lost out here.

Pulling into the shade of the awning covering the gas pumps, your friends all leapt out, eager to stretch their legs and grab some road fare. You could humor an Arizona tea yourself, finally stepping out yourself. Mel was lingering, pretending that something was waiting for him with a pebble on the blacktop of the station.

You finally crossed your arms, and said, “Mel?”

He perked up, and you smiled to your own puddles of soft brown dirt that had blown in from the desert and crackled beneath your shoes before moving from the front door of your car. “Be careful, alright?”

The smile it got from him made you finally let go of your insecurities of letting someone else drive, and he assured you, “Of course I will, [Y/N]. Seriously, I passed my driving test the first time and all that shit. Never been pulled over, nothing.” You handed him the keys, and then asked, “I’m running inside, be right back. As long as I can trust you.”

Turning away, Dean was coming back to the car with a suspicious black bag of whatever he was going to subsist off of. You didn’t give him or it a second look, pulling your wallet out of your pocket to consider what you had for gas and a few treats. It could be alcohol, but he isn’t going to be driving.

You swung open the door, pressing up against it to remain out of the way for a man leaving, even held the door open for him without a word, smiling curtly as you looked inside the store. As you walked in, Natalie scampered up. “Hey, I think that guy’s driving a-“

“[Y/N]?” Heather cut her off, pointing out the window. You hadn’t even gotten up to the front counter before turning around, eyes registering as you grew rigid, anger rising fast.

“Fuck.” You spat, and then looked at the girls, “Look, take my wallet. I want $25 on Pump 2, and…and get me a fucking Arizona.” You turned back around, the purr of a significantly large engine nearly drowning you out as you started to holler over it, at your car.

“What the hell are you doing!?” You asked Dean, who had sat behind the wheel and started honking at you to drown you out, “Absolutely fucking not.” You stared with wide, bewildered eyes and a sharp scowl at Mel, who yelled back, “He fucking burgled the keys from me!”

Jiggling the door handle, Dean held the keys up and gave you a confused look. You slammed your fist on the hood in a final warning, and finally he stopped in his tracks, rolling the window down. “I’m just-“

“You fuck with me, I’m not filling this tank up, and we aren’t going anywhere.”

His eyes boggled, and he even gawked slightly at the different tone of your voice, hitting the final marker of your tolerance, the last rung of patience left as you gripped the edge of the open window, and you spat, “I’d tell you to go fuck yourself, but this is the only reason you brought me on this trip with you, right?”

The girls approached slowly, and Dean winced, “Sheesh, you’re still on that? I didn’t know you’d get so butthurt about me wanting to help you write your story.” You glared, simmering back down and holding bitter eye contact. You then asked, “Did you buy any booze?”

“No, just pop rocks and cactus cooler…” Like a hurt little kid who was getting scolded in detention.

Your hand slipped off the windowsill, and you muttered one more thing before going to the backseat, “Fuck, fine. Just don’t crash her, and don’t touch the fucking CB radio.”

Things had been tense and quiet in the car after that, you sulking in the backseat and rereading your scribed interviews. You didn’t even have the heart to try and take those photos everyone had been talking about, and the only time your attention was snapped forward was when Dean would hit a pothole, or veer while adjusting to your car. Your eyes would burn holes into the back of his head, and everyone would merely observe in an almost fearful watch to see if that would make you lose your temper again.

It wasn’t a proud moment, but one you had been biting down since last night. Natalie reached over, planting an Arnold Palmer between you and Mel. You smiled, but even that felt like you were just smoothing over a snapped twig with masking tape.

Dinner was lighter, you getting up to approach “suspecting” truckers, start asking the counter of the diner layout of the restaurant as a whole if anyone wanted to give you an interview. You got a couple short questions answered, thanking them with another stride in trying to help your mood. Still, as you had turned away, a wolf whistle made your spirits once again choke in the dust like a tumbleweed outside the window, rolling on through the night with a wonder just what direction you were fumbling in and where it all lead towards.

Sitting back down, Heather put a hand on your shoulder, and you once again sighed the heavy emotions off in favor of hearing the easy tone of Mel’s voice. “Hey, [Y/N]. Dean thinks we should drive through the night, but we all agreed since you have the car…uh, you make the call.”

“We’re going to what?” You then echoed, looking at Dean as he quickly began to vomit an explanation up for you. “Yeah, it might be best since we lost some time already, getting a little lost when we first made our way out here.

“I don’t think it’s smart to overtire ourselves with driving all night.” Heather pointed out, but Natalie quickly asked, “Well, what are we going to do when we get there anyways? Drink at some bars, go back to our hotel rooms…?”

“Drink there!” Dean beamed, “Just like we’ve been doing already. Might as well do it back in the city everyone putts out here for, right?”

“Sure, I guess,” Heather sat back in the booth, “But again, it’s [Y/N]’s decision, I guess.”

Closing your notebook, staring down at your chicken picatta that had long gone cold, you then looked back up at Dean, who added, “You can drive to start, and when you get sleepy…” He looked at Mel, “He can take over, not me. Since you got your panties all in a knot over me doing it.”

Another pause, and the speaker over your head started humming an old ABBA tune that Dean started to mouth along to: Honey, I’m still free. Take a chance on me…

You set your fork down after picking at your plate for a minute, and simply responded with a question.

“We’re close enough to just keep going, aren’t we?”

[420seedless]

[spunkyspy]

MJ and Cam bumpin uglies during the movie while Kimo and Rubina come up with 47 new voices to talk in

[chordsykat]

Just curious, are Nita and Caj and Cherry the only of the Baen Shee members who get shipped with people? Or are Sparkles and Murderface supposed to be interpretted romantically? And does Eden have anyone?

Nita and Caj have each other, Cherry is in denial about her feelings for Pickles (and anybody probably), and Eden is asexual at this point in her life for all I can tell. That said, if anyone is out there reading into the Sparkleface thing as bumpin' uglies on the regular, I'm in full support.

[kaxen]

Trying to explain aro-ace relationships puts me in a wild tug-o-war between "I don't give a shit if you get it" and "THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IS THEY HAVE DIBS ON EACH OTHER" and this mood:

Human relationships do not make sense, but even some otherwise sensible people I know are really fuckin' weird thinking you can never have as deep a level of a devotion if you aren't bumpin' uglies.

[hazelfoureyes]

ALL OF THEMMMMM but particularly the alleyway bumpin’ uglies one. His horns?? Scraping the wall??? Him just LOSING HIS MINDDDDDD. Delicious.

I’m so glad you liked that detail! the idea of him just… entirely losing composure and unraveling GETS ME EVERY TIME AAAAH I need to see this man DISHEVELED 👏