#corn picking days

[uniqueartisanconnoisseur]

2024 Fall Travel Essentials Guide

As we transition into a new season it is fun to share some of my latest finds in my fall travel essentials guide! Hitting the road as the leaves change offers new views and new adventures. It is nice to have the products that help ease the way along the road! The Foldie Sling Bag and Rollink 4 Wheel spinner This is a new release, the Foldie Sling Bag I received to review. I love so many things…

[lavendette]

[thewanderingzeppelin]

Unexpected day off!!!

[halfdeadfriedrice]

ooooh a sexy little fisherman who has been trapped here in an alternate plane you say? he's got a mustache and a doppleganger named thomas that confuses and upsets him? thomas, the man who had me support his Entire Career by spending hours hand-catching him golden fish? not this man. not captain thomas. captain thomas can catch his own fish. he just needs a little help getting set up, because he's been trapped on an alternate plane and i'm competent (and a supportive friend? or more?) in two universes.

captain we can't lie, that's an awful lot of salt for a few weeks. and there's no honest way to come by salt in this place. I have to go out mining 50 must-be minuscule salt rocks, and then I get them all together and I smash them with a hammer. and that makes one nice bowl of salt. and you want 300 of those. well.

I must be in love with you, right? because otherwise. you could just not salt your fish. because we are working in a salt-poor economy, despite being near quite a few islands and sea-salt being a pretty available commodity. but no. i shall trudge on. making hammers from scratch and breaking one every time i smash all your salt rocks and pour them into a cute little bowl.

[neuroticrobotic]

You fuckers hate flavor. We know who reigns supreme in that wretched bag of grains.

DOWN WITH THE CORN CHEX, ALL HAIL RYE CHIP!!!

didnt get the responses i thought i would on discord so im bringing it here

[libraford]

Park Cleanup Pet Peeves

I'll be starting my seasonal gig at Parks and Rec in a couple months and I've got a couple things I wanna say. I know that this will probably not reach the people who need to hear it, but if ONE LESS person leaves the parks a mess, I will be That Much Happier.

-You're not supposed to smoke, drink, or have sex in public parks but I know that people will anyway. But if you are going to do those things, please dispose of the evidence in the trash cans. A human has to pick these things up.

-Dog poop goes in a bag. Bag goes in the trash can.

-The little wax paper liners in the women's room? See you're supposed to put your pad/tampon in that wax paper bag, take the bag out of the bin, and then dispose of it in the actual trash can. Don't feel bad, no one told me either. Also no one told the dudes I work with. But this reduces direct exposure to bodily fluids, especially as the summer gets on and it gets hot in those bathrooms.

-On that subject! The little bins that they go in next to the toilet? Don't stick trash in there. Don't put diapers in there. Also don't put beer cans crushed in such a specific way that I slice my hand on them as I try to jimmy it out of there. Literally, that bin is too small for most things. They are meant specifically for those brown bags. Please for the love of god, throw things in the trash can.

-As for the urinals, please no solids. Most commonly gum and chewed tobacco, but you can use your imagination.

-If you're doing a photo shoot or an event with confetti, please use a paper confetti instead of a plastic one- its easier to get rid of.

-If you're doing a pizza party, we'd rather you stack the pizza boxes in a pile next to the trash can instead of trying to fit them in the trash. Because then we can just throw the trash bag over the top and tie it instead of trying to fish it out. This kind of goes for any big trash- if it won't fit in the trash can easily, don't try.

-Please don't call cops on people sleeping in the parks if they're not bothering anyone. Even if they've been sleeping there all day. Dude's just trying to chill.

-Destruction of the toilets will result in the indefinite locking of the restrooms. You ruined them and now everyone at the softball tournament can blame you for it.

-Parks people are not the police. We are maintenance workers who are not trained to handle most emergencies and the most we can do in any situation is report to the proper department. Please don't look to us for answers if someone is starting a fight.

-Also please don't spit on us for driving on the path. We're permitted to. Its essential for us to drive on the path to do our job.

-please don't abandon animals at the park. Rehome them properly. I spent a whole week trying to catch a rooster last summer.

-look, I get it- 'oh no, your pretty building has writing on it!' Grafitti is so edgy. We get it. But it means Jacob has to sand it off now so that the kids at the birthday party don't see a giant drawing of a weiner. Acts of rebellion that create more work for the working class are not revolutionary.

-please do not set fire to the Tiny Free Library. Why did you do that? That's mean.

-please do not feed bread to ducks and geese. Corn, birdseed, lettuce- those are better for them. If you want to reduce tge amount of goose poop in the parks, shop feeding them bread.

-also do not anger tge geese. They remember what its like to be dinosaurs.

I'll have more later, probably, once the season wears on.

[withahappyrefrain]

Unraveled- Bob Floyd

Summary: Bob Floyd likes to think he can keep it cool. Then along comes a sundress.

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, so much pining, language,

Bob Floyd didn't like to brag, but he considered himself pretty dang smart and sensible. 

He knew the ins and outs of every jet he has flown. Hell,  he could break it apart and put it back together again within a few hours, if that.  He was able to quickly assess a situation, weigh the pros and cons, and come to a sound decision. It’s why he was the top WSO for the mission in Miramar. 

So why has a piece of fabric thrown him for such a loop? 

All Bob was trying to do was be polite. You had mentioned taking an Uber to the Hard Deck tonight and Bob knew the polite thing to do was to offer a ride. After all, he wasn't going to drink. You would save money. It's what any good friend would do. It had absolutely nothing to do with the crush he had been harboring since your first debriefing. 

He was just trying to be courteous. The gentleman his Mama worked hard in raising. Getting to spend time with you, without the other members of your shared squadron around or loud music, wasn't even near the forefront of his mind when he made the offer. Bob was just trying to be a good friend. A good friend who just wanted to help. A good friend who was forcing himself to look at you through a platonic lens, not a romantic one. 

Bob liked to think he was doing pretty well at that. 

That is, until a dress came along and unraveled him. 

Perhaps you said hello when you opened the door.  You probably did, considering how polite you were. But all Bob could focus on was the way the fabric of your dress hugged your curves. 

And what little fabric there was. He had seen you in civilian clothes before. But never anything like this. His mind absolutely went blank when you hugged him and he could feel how much of your bare skin was exposed. Due to the halter style of the straps, nearly your whole upper back was now perfectly visible.

“Um you-you look um nice,” Bob barely got out. He was too busy trying to burn the feeling of your soft skin into his brain. You were warm, like a walking ray of sunshine. 

“Thanks! I got it yesterday and I figured with the weather being so nice, today was the perfect day to wear it!” you said, giving a little twirl. Bob tried to focus on the pattern of dress; how the green brought out your eyes. 

But all he could focus on was the curves of your body, now being highlighted. The way the halter style made your breasts swell and the lack of a bra very apparent. How the fabric stopped at the top of your thighs when you spun, giving Bob a peek of what he often thought about late at night. 

This was bad. 

“I take it you came early to watch an episode of Love Island before we leave?” You asked as he stumbled walked in.

The truth was, Bob wasn’t a fan of reality TV. But he watched because it gave the two of you a chance to talk to one another. Just as friends, nothing more. When watching the silly show, you two could make jokes, talk about things other than work. 

“Yeah! Ready to watch hot people make poor decisions again,” Bob said with a nervous laugh. The joke failed to put him at ease. If anything, it reminded him that he was about to spend at least forty minutes with you and that did not include the drive to the Hard Deck. 

“You’re using my tagline!” your smile lit up your whole face. Bob was certain it could light up the whole turmac. All he could do was nod, his heart fluttering when you grabbed his hand, leading him into the living room. 

"I have some kettle corn in the microwave for you! I also made cherry seltzer water!" Bob could feel heat rush to his face. You always remembered the little details that no one else seemed to pick up on; that he loved salt but had an even bigger sweet tooth. How in an attempt to cut back on soda, he switched to sparkling water. His favorite flavor was cherry because it reminded him of cherry coke. 

"Did you see the video I sent you?" You gently squeezed Bob's hand as you two sat down. 

"Y-yeah. You're absolutely right, having three otters would be my dream." Ever since learning about Bob's favorite animal, you had sent him every otter-related video you came across while scrolling the internet. You even got him a pair of Otter socks for his birthday.  It was the fact you paid attention to seemingly minor details that made Bob fall head over heels for you. 

But alas, you were a coworker. The problem at hand wasn't whether it was allowed, ‘incest’ (as Jake unfortunately called it) happened all the time in the Navy. After all, there were only so many things you could do on a ship before switching to people. No, it was the potential issues that came with dating. Rejection being the main one. Bob had no trouble believing you and he could be professional should you two date and it not work out. That happened all the time. What worried him was rejection. Having to go to work everyday and put on a facade, that things were fine. When deep down, he knew he'd be heartbroken. And even worse, he'd no longer have your friendship. 

So Bob settled, as he often did when it came to love. He took comfort knowing he'd still have you, albeit as a friend instead of a partner. That should be more than enough. For the last few months, he had convinced himself that it was enough. 

But God was it difficult when you bent over right to grab the remote. 

The hemline of your dress inched upwards, showing off the backs of your upper thighs and- 

he could see the swell of your ass. He could see the flash of red lace. Your skin looked so soft and supple and you were so close he could just reach out and- 

Oh God he was hard. Oh no. 

This was bad. Worse than that time he popped an erection during sex ed in middle school. There, he at least had a jacket and a desk to cover it. 

But here? He was a full grown adult and San Diego’s seventy degree weather didn't give him any additional layers. Bob looked around, desperate for something, anything, to hide his cock that was currently straining against his jeans. 

Thank fuck for your love of decorative pillows. 

He grabbed the closest one, shaped and designed like a pomegranate. You were so excited the day you picked it up from some Facebook Marketplace deal. He had driven you, partly out of wanting to spend time with you, partly because he wanted to ensure you were safe. It was adorable and definitely shouldn’t be used for nefarious purposes, such as hiding a boner. This was wrong, so fucking wrong.   

Bob was trying to think of anything and everything that would kill this boner. But his spot on the couch aligned perfectly with the entranceway of the kitchen, where you currently were, rummaging around to fix Bob a drink. 

What ever happened to doors? Why were people so opposed to doors? Doors were lovely. You could close doors. Every time he tried to think of something, you were right in his line of view, turning every thought into something more devious. 

His family? His family would love you. If you two got married you could make  your own family. 

Work? You worked with him, in that damn flight suit that clung to your every curve. No one else could make that god forsaken green fabric look good.  

School? God, you were so smart. The top of your class. And witty, always ready with a clever, underhanded comeback. It’s how you two originally bonded, both having muttered something about Jake under your breath. 

Bob Floyd was screwed. Thoroughly. 

He tried to comfort himself with the fact that soon you two would be watching people in their early twenties making the dumbest decisions over dating. If anything were to be a boner killer, that had to be it. He just needed to make it through then. 

“Bob?” Your lithe voice broke him out of his thoughts. Not that it was much of a reprieve, with the way you were standing at the kitchen entranceway with a glass of sparkling water in each hand, “You good?”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m great!” He said with an all too eager nod, desperate to convince you this was truly the case. Fuck, you were so beautiful. And you were showing so much skin. He had seen you on the beach before, adorned in athletic shorts and a sports bra. But this was different. 

The dress was far too nice for the Hard Deck. No, you deserved to be taken to a nice restaurant, one with a lovely outdoor patio. The image of you sitting on a lovely chair with a glass of wine in your hand came easily to Bob. It was also the perfect dress for a picnic, particularly at the nearby park, specifically in that little secluded area. God, the idea of you laying down on a red and white checkered blanket, the hem of your dress pushed up your thighs as he leaned over you, ready to take you-

Bob leaned forward, clutching the pillow as he tried to will himself the strength to get it together. 

“Bob? Are-are you okay?” You quickly placed the drinks down on the coffee table, rushing over to kneel in front of him on the couch. 

Oh what a sight that was, you looking up at him with big eyes, full of concern. Your hands were on his biceps, and Bob knew if he looked down he would have the perfect view of your breasts. 

 It was so hot and also the very last thing Bob fucking needed. 

“I’m good. Stomach doesn’t agree with what we had for lunch, that’s all.” Lying was never good, his mother instilled that in him at an early age. But in this scenario, Bob was certain the truth was much worse. 

“I’ll go get you a ginger ale!” Bob opened his mouth to protest, though no words came out due to seeing not only the tops of your thighs, but a flash of your ass as you spun around to go back into the kitchen. 

For a few seconds, the  supple, plump flesh was so close to him. Practically within arm’s reach. 

Maybe he should just leave while you were in the kitchen. 

But that would be rude. Not only rude, but it would raise your suspicions if they weren’t high already. Plus, he had already promised you a ride to the Hard Deck. He couldn’t just leave you hanging, not after you brought a dress for the occasion. He may be in dire need of a cold shower, but the last thing Bob Floyd was going to do was hurt you. He squeezed the pillow, knuckles turning white as he tried to find strength. For once, he couldn’t wait to start an episode of Love Island. Hell, he would even take an episode of The Bachelor at this point. 

“Here ya go,” You sat down on the couch next to him, glass of ginger ale in hand. You even remembered how much ice he preferred in his cold beverages. You were perfect. 

“Thanks,” Bob slowly took one hand off the pillow, the other still holding onto it for dear life. 

“You uh, like that pillow?” You chuckled, though your nerves still shined through. 

“Huh? Oh yeah,” Bob looked down, ensuring his big problem was still covered, “It uh, helps my stomach!”

You raised an eyebrow, though you didn’t further question it. Instead, much to Bob’s delight, you reached for the remote, clicking through until you finally landed on the desired episode. With a shaking hand, Bob gulped down the ginger ale, promptly placing it on the coffee table so he could have both hands on the pillow. 

The room was silent, saved for the ridiculous conversations happening on the TV screen. Normally you and Bob would be shoulder to shoulder, laughing as you both narrated your opinions on the contestants. But today Bob was rigid, his fingers still clutching to the pillow on his lap. He hadn’t even touched the bowl of popcorn. 

"Do you like my dress?" It took everything in Bob not to groan at your question. The last thing he needed was a reason to look at you. But how could he deny himself such a chance? So he put on his best smile as he turned to face you.    

"Uh yeah it's lovely. I'm sure everyone will love it-" 

"I got it for you.” Your voice was soft as you hit the pause button on your remote, eyes remaining on the screen. 

The words hit Bob like a freight train. 

"What? Why would you-"

You shrugged, fingers toying with the short hem of your dress, "I thought maybe, if you saw me in something different, something that wasn't my flight suit or a tee shirt, that maybe you would finally notice me?” 

You finally looked him in the eyes, “Maybe you'd finally notice that I've been trying to flirt with you for the last few months?" 

Bob opened his mouth just to promptly close it. He thought back to the last few months, now analyzing every seemingly ordinary interaction he had with you. 

The way you insisted on sitting next to each other during lunch. As well as during briefings. And when you went to the Hard Deck. Whenever a guy tried to flirt with you there, you turned them down, focusing your attention back on him, continuing your conversation about his latest D&D campaign or a Lego set you had found that reminded you of him. The way you always touched his arm, your hand lingering on his skin as you bore your eyes into his. How you always texted him. How you baked a cake for his birthday. The little trinkets you’d bring him. 

Oh god, he was a fucking idiot. 

The tension in the room was thick. You, sitting restlessly as you waited for Bob to acknowledge what you had said. Bob, processing your words and what they meant. 

“How long?” Bob asked, his voice soft yet firm.

You chuckled as you shook your head, “Honestly? First day. We hadn’t even spoken yet. I saw you walk in and you just were….not only handsome but also looked so kind? Then you offered me a spare pencil, made that comment about Jake’s driving and I….was a goner.”

“I saw you talking to Halo before the briefing room was open,” He confessed, “She said something that made you laugh and it….it was the prettiest sight I had ever seen.”

“We’ve wasted a lot of time, huh?” You both stared ahead at the TV, still too fearful to face each other. 

Bob dryly chuckled, “Yeah….a lot of time. Months, if we’re being more exact.” 

The two of you remained in silence, your words sinking in. Neither sure what should be said, if anything should be said. Until finally, you spoke up. 

“Bob? What’s underneath the pillow?” 

His hips shifted, involuntary, “What?” For a moment, he forgot about the darn pillow and the erection he was covering with it. 

The cluelessness in his voice brought a giggle, “The pillow? Why are you using it to cover your lap?”

Bob sighed, “Can I at least kiss you first?” 

You nodded, moving to close the gap between you and Bob. Pillow be damned, his hands cupped your jawline, giving you a sweet smile before leaning in, closing the gap between your lips and his. 

Bob Floyd’s lips were soft, no doubt due to the sweet mint chapstick you'd watch him apply countless of times. You didn't want to admit how often you'd wondered about the taste, what his hands would feel like on your body. God, they were huge. His thumbs rested comfortably on your jawline, but you could feel his other fingers spanning your neck, down to your collarbone. 

The first kiss was gentle, practically modest. Your lips were only apart for several seconds, if that, before connecting again. 

You easily found his shoulders, grasping them for purchase. The gap between your bodies was too much, Bob wanted to be as close as possible. So his hands trailed down your body, skimming along until they found the back of your thighs. Using his strength, he moved your body, situating you onto his lap. 

A high pitched gasp fell from your lips upon feeling the bulge that was straining against his jeans. Good god, he was thick. You had heard whispers, chalking it up to typical locker room talk. 

Nope, those rumors were one hundred percent true. 

“I’m sorry,” Bob groaned, hands exploring your soft curves. Worst of all, he sounded earnest, only making you want to touch him more. 

“I-I wore this on purpose ah-after all,” you confessed, finding it difficult to speak as he pressed open mouthed kisses along your exposed chest. 

Right. You wore this on purpose. To entice him. To see if perhaps he felt the same burning desire. Once realization hit him again, Bob’s hands moved along your back, just stopping above your ass. 

Wait, he was about to touch your ass. 

“We-we shouldn’t,” Bob mumbled, retracting his hands from your body. You stilled, a crestfallen look painting your face. 

“We shouldn’t?” Repeating the words felt like driving a knife through your heart. Had regret finally emerged, beating the rush of adrenaline? Was he going to regret this, ask that you two never speak about it ever again, pretend it never happened?

“I…” Bob sighed, “I need to take you on a date first.”

Bless his heart. 

Sighing, you relaxed your body into his, resting your head in the crook of his neck, “You’re too sweet, y’know that?”

Bob chuckled, “That's supposed to be my line.” 

His hands gave your hips a loving squeeze, causing you to nestle further into him, until your bodies were nearly molded as one. Your lips searched for his, trailing up his neck, his jawline, along the side of his button nose until finally reaching his soft lips. Bob shifted in his seat, causing you to do the same. As a result, you could feel his erection, despite the layers of clothes. 

“Good lord Bobby, you've just been walking around with all that?” Bob groaned, but not due to your words. No, it was because you had started moving your hips in circles, his erection now pressed against your covered core. 

“I’m- I’m trying to be a gentleman.” Bob couldn't even look at you. He didn't want to stop. He should stop. Maybe you two could skip the Hard Deck and go out to dinner. Then he could take you home and not feel as guilty. 

“You can be a gentleman later,” by throwing your arms over his shoulder you finally had access to his neck. His skin was so soft, so delicate. How could you not sink your teeth into his neck? 

Normally you'd have better self control than this. But you were ovulating and had six months of sexual frustrations and wet dreams- 

“You had dreams about me?” Uh-oh. That wasn't meant to be said out loud. Granted, maybe it was for the best to get everything out in the open. 

Timidly nodding, you explained, “Yeah. The days I didn't sit next to you were because….I had a dream about ya the night before.” 

A band had snapped within Bob, no doubt due to the numerous times you didn't sit next to him during briefings. 

Within seconds, you found yourself on your back against the couch, the bespectacled WSO hovering over you. There was a fire flickering in his blue eyes as he remained laser focused on your face. 

“After this, you're putting this dress back on and I'm taking ya out to dinner, is that clear?” his voice was gruff and deep, similar to when he did a hundred pushes that one day (that you definitely didn't think about while masturbating). 

Chest heaving, dress pushed up to your upper thighs, lips kiss bitten, God, you looked like an angel to Bob. He remembered learning about angels in church growing up. How pious they were, that seeing them was a sign of comfort, that they would guide one to safety, to a holy life. 

There was nothing holy about what he wanted to do to you. 

His mouth was hot, searing kisses along your skin. Your back arched into him, desperate for me. But he always seemed to pull away before you could get enough. Would you? Ever get enough of Bob Floyd? 

Finding an answer would have to wait, for now you wanted to relish in the feeling of Bob’s hands kneading your breasts. It was obvious you weren't wearing a bra, a fact Bob ob had spent forty minutes trying not to think about. He still felt a smidge of guilt, as though the newly drawn line between friends and more hadn’t quite sunk in yet. Was he even supposed to be doing this?

“You can keep going. I want you to.” You sensed his hesitation. In all the time you knew Bob, he had never taken someone home for a one night stand. He wasn’t like that. He needed time to build a connection, to feel comfortable enough to be himself. That’s why he loved spending time with you. With you, there was no need to put up a front, no need to be fearful of judgement. 

“And then afterwards, we can order some Thai food and continue watching the episode, if you want. Or we can just do that now,” your hands cradled his jaw, gently forcing him to look at you. He found a sweet, reassuring smile, similar to the one that made him smitten six months ago. 

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Bob could be blunt, and often was when it came to his colleague’s shenanigans. But with his own feelings? He always chose his words carefully. 

Hence why his admission took you some time to process. Bob could see it on your face; first your eyes widened, lips slightly parting as if driven by the need to respond immediately. But then your lips closed, your brain quickly gaining back self control. 

“I’m falling in love with you too Robby.” You were the only one who could call him that. It was that familiarity, that intimacy, that gave him the courage to move his hands to your hemline up to your hips, revealing the thin, lacy red fabric underneath. 

You were breathtaking. Always were. But this? This solidified things for Bob. You two had made a step forward in your relationship. Many things would still be the same. But there were now new things to experience. Simply another layer of intimacy had been added.

His long fingers skimmed over the fabric of your panties, every touch sending a spark of electricity along your spine. Every stroke caused a small gasp to fall from your lips, music to Bob’s ears. Lowering himself, Bob decorated your hips with opened mouth kisses. Finally, gaining enough courage, his fingers pushed your panties to the side. 

Fuck, you were wet. 

If there was any hesitation left in Bob, it died upon seeing how visibly aroused you were. He had done that. No one else. Lowering himself even more, he was now at eye level with your wet cunt. This wasn’t some vivid wet dream. 

When his touch licked a broad stripe up your slit, a broken moan fell from your lips, echoing off the walls. It was the prettiest sound Bob had heard. He wanted to hear it again. All the time. 

With more confidence, Bob begins lapping up your arousal, determined to taste every inch of you. His fingers dig into your thighs, pulling you closer. Looking down, you see his glasses are now crooked, though you highly doubt Bob cares, given how his eyes are half closed in pleasure. 

Wait, was he grinding against the couch? 

The discovery caused your thighs to clamp over Bob’s ears, your hips thrusting upwards to get more of his talented tongue. Bob wasn't reserved around you, never had been. But this was a new side to him that you had wondered if it ever existed. Animalistic. Devouring. Loud. 

His groans vibrate against your core, only heightening the pleasure. Slowly, his right hand goes from your hips to your core, mouth moving to your clit as the long digits trace your opening. 

“Oh my God, please,” you all but beg, not quite ready to admit how often you thought about his fingers and how they would feel inside of you.

Always thinking about your comfort, Bob started off with just one finger. You tried to fuck yourself with it, your own fingers gripping the soft strands of his hair for better leverage. The thought of making you beg crossed Bob’s mind. Would you like that? Would you be open to that? There were so many new topics to discuss, so many new boundaries to explore now. 

You happily welcomed the stretch of two, three fingers. Bob found the little moans you let out to be quite adorable. He could feel his cock throb against his jeans, but pleasing you took priority. 

“C’mon honey. Wanna feel you come on my fingers.” His voice was low, husky even. 

“C-can you be inside me? Like your…your cock?” A broken groan fell from Bob’s lips at the very thought of being inside of you. 

“I don't….I don't think I'll last long,” he admitted sheepishly. Hell, he could probably come just from eating you out. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it sounded pretty good- bringing himself to the height of pleasure just from ravishing you. 

“I don't think I will either,” you giggled, “But we’ll….we have lots of other times to go slow.” 

Bob helped you sit up on the couch. “You wanna go to the bedroom?” He asked, thinking about how this could be more comfortable for you. 

Instead, you shook your head, hands moving to his jeans, hastily undoing the buttons. 

Now it was your turn to explore, to discover. There was a dark trail of hair that went past the waistband of his jeans. He wore boxer briefs. And Bob Floyd had the prettiest cock. 

His face turned bright red at the compliment, “Oh it's…I mean it's like fine, but it's not-” 

“Take the damn compliment Robert,” you all but scolded, eliciting a laugh from him, your favorite. The high pitch, near giggle one. The one that made your heart flutter. 

Feeling at ease, you moved so that you were hovering over Bob’s lap. Your fingers moved to the base of his cock, making you realize you would have to ease yourself into it. 

“I gotcha,” his hands found your hips, slowly easing you down. His sapphire eyes never left your face, searching for any sign of discomfort. He went slow, waiting until you made it vocally known you were ready for more. 

By the time you reached the base of Bob’s cock, you were a mess. You wanted him to move, to fuck you within an inch of your life. But he was also so big. The stretch was nothing you had experienced before. 

“Hey, we can take our time, okay? I know it's, that it's a lot,” he assured you, as though he could sense your internal conflict. His lips found yours, and in that kiss you found comfort. Bob grounded you, always had, whether it was up in the air or right here on your couch. 

How much time had passed, who was to say? You could recall both your phones vibrating a few times, no doubt messages from the rest of your squad. Those messages could wait. 

“I think I'm ready,” you whispered against Bob’s lips. He needed, digging his fingers into your hips to gain a better grip. With his help, you lifted yourself no more than a couple of inches off his cock, returning to the base. 

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Bob moaned. You just made Bob Floyd curse. Something not even a bird strike could do. That four letter word gave you the confidence to lift your hips up on your own accord, returning swiftly. Slowly, just an inch or two, which became several inches. Up and down motions turned to swiveling your hips in a circular rhythm. What was once a quiet living room, saved for a few small gasps and the static from the TV, had now become a symphony of melodic pants and groans. 

Bob could tell you were close. Your pussy was tightening around his cock more and more, your fingers dug into his broad shoulders, as if trying to anchor yourself. You practically whined at the sight of Bob taking two fingers into his mouth, wetting them with his tongue. He lowered them to where your bodies connected. 

Upon first contact with your clit, your head dropped to the crook of his neck, unabashedly moaning his name, hips moving in a now frantic motion. 

“That's it, I gotcha.” Fuck, we he going to talk you through it? Was Bob Floyd a talker? Ironic, considering at work he was known as a man of few words. 

“Feels s’good, being inside ya.” Fuck, he was a talker. You were doomed, “Wanna, wanna make us cum. Bet ya gonna feel even better when ya soak- fuck- soak my cock.” 

Your brain was hazy. Was this real? If it was a vivid wet dream, you never wanted to wake up. Was it wrong to hope that you were in a medically induced coma, so that if this  was indeed a dream, you wouldn’t have to wake up so soon? Surely, your friends and family would understand upon meeting Bob. 

Then he pointedly thrusted his hips upwards, reminding you that no, this wasn’t a dream. No, you wouldn’t wake up feeling frustrated and unable to look him in the eye. After this, you two could go out to eat, on a real date. Not some hey let’s get dinner that feels like a date in everything except in name. You could also order delivery and cuddle up on the couch. Maybe you could even shower with him beforehand, and see his bare body, find out what was truly hiding underneath that flight suit. Oh, he was deceptively strong, you always knew that. But to see it, to feel the hard planes of his muscles? Oh, that would be quite the joy to experience. 

“Sweet girl,” you clenched at that nickname, you wanted him to continue calling you that for eternity, “Let go. Know ya want it.”

“I-I do,” you all but whined. Bob found the noise cute. What other sounds did you make? What would you sound like if he kept fucking you after you came? What about if he ate you out for hours? Or teased you until you were teetering on the edge?

There were so many questions, so many areas to explore. But for now, Bob was satisfied with experiencing how tightly you clenched his cock, how you practically sang his name as you came. Your release triggered his, pulling your hips down until they were flushed against his. His lips smashed against yours, swallowing your moans. 

Then there was silence. No words spoken. Only the sounds of panting, you both clearly trying to catch your breath, and kisses exchanged, ones that neither of you could resist giving. 

Realization hits you like a freight train. “I’m on birth control.”

Bob’s eyes widened, “Oh thank God.” He was usually so good about asking, about pulling out. But you….you made his brain feel like cotton. 

“You saying you don’t want to have kids with me?” You giggled, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek to let him know you were only saying it in jest. 

“Not yet.” You sat up to find he had an earnest smile on his face, cheeks rosy and eyes shining in adornment. 

Bob Floyd was going to be the death of you. 

So you brushed several strands of sandy brown hair off of his forehead, replacing them with a kiss, "Gotta get me a ring first."

Luckily, you were going to be the death of Bob Floyd.

[hvhvmoc]

🖤🖤🖤

Characters : Art the Clown (Terrifier), afab!reader

Warnings/CW : kinda slowburn, Art almost kills you on purpose, funny stuff, rough smut, wall sex, spanking, hair pulling, overstimulation, choking, pussy slapping, oral (f! Receiving), multiple orgasms, you pass out mid sex, Art is stumped and confused, you're ok tho, talks about blowjobs, bit of fluff at the end, tell me if I missed anything

A/N : I have nowhere to go this Halloween ☹️ just stay home, write and take photos of myself

Its around midnight, you're in your kitchen cooking dinner. Usually you don't cook at midnight but you were busy all day and it just got pushed back. Plus, your boyfriend wasn't home yet. The infamous Mikes County Killer, Art the Clown. He was taking his usual time out there, spilling blood, guts, and pain, while you were home, working or being lazy.

You're surprised your still up with this much energy. You did wake up really late today, since you didn't have work that day. You took that time to organize the house, clean everything up, shower, maybe even trim your hair with a pair of random scissors you prayed didn't belong to Art- knowing what he does with them- and knowing that although he has okay hygiene, he doesn't properly clean his weapons like at all.

You switch between mixing and checking on the red rice, stirring the big pan of cooking chicken, stirring the smaller pan of cooking beef, and finally stirring the pan of cut up bell peppers, broccoli, corn, and onion. The rice finished cooking and so did the vegetables- the chicken and beef still needed some time- when Art busted through your front door, a scowl on his face, his leg and torso cut up a bit from (what you can only guess) a victim fighting back, and blood all over him. He drops his bag of weapons and goes to find you, the scowl not leaving his face.

That expression would've terrified anyone. But really, you were used to it. The more logical side of your brain knew it was only a matter of time before he treats you like any other victim of his; scalping, cutting, drugging, stabbing, torturing. But you decided to just play along with him. Maybe if you act nice and continue to treat him like this, he'll make your death less brutal. Hopefully. But truly you don't know. Nobody but him knows what's going on in his head. He's like a wild animal; sometimes you can get close and they look still- froze- waiting for you to get close and closer, before they pounce on you and attack. Brutally attack.

Art stands by you, not really doing anything but standing with the scowl on his face, staring at you. You smile and wave up at him, giving him a little "Hi baby", before turning your attention back to the food. There was silence, the only thing making noise being the food cooking.

You feel something cold on the back of your neck. You look up at Art and in the corner of your eye, you see his hand outstretched behind your neck. You can't really tell what it is he has but you will admit, it's scarring you. You tried not to show it though. You know Art loves when his victims show fear. If he has thoughts of killing you, fear will only fuel it.

He lowers his hand while you watch. Now you can see what he had pressed against you. A knife- which is probably the least painful object he owns for killing. You again, tried to show now fear. Your eyes didn't widen and your breathing stayed like before. But your heart is beating faster. That's something you can't control. You just showed confusion. Art drops the knife onto the floor- thankfully missing his and yours feet- and turn around, leaving and disappearing into your bedroom.

Once he leaves, you sigh. What the fuck was that? This isn't the first time he's pressed a weapon against you but it still shakes you up everytime. And maybe that's what he wants. You bend down and pick up the knife, throwing it in the sink. You continue cooking, acting like your boyfriend didn't just hold a knife against you.

You taste test everything, ensuring that everything's thoroughly cooked. When the taste is up to your standards, you go to turn off the stove. As your reaching for it, you hear a loud "honk" right in your ear. You jump and turn around, more terrified than when he held a knife to your neck. Art is there, now fully cleaned of blood, and silently laughs. Hard. And buckles over in laughter and pointing at you. He then puts a hand of his heart and mocks your shocked expression and the way you jumped. You bend over the counter, holding your head and laughing too.

Art comes over and grabs a hold of your waist, wrapping both arms around you and lifting you up. He swings you around a bit and kisses your neck. You laugh as he does, now forgetting about the past incident. "Baby-" you laugh. Art perks up and looks at you. "Go sit at the dinner table, I'll bring out your dinner." Art rolls his eyes and gives you once last squeeze before he lets go and slumps over to his spot on the dinner table.

You serve two plates; Art has some chicken, beef, rice and vegetables, which yours has the same but less beef. You bring out his plate first, setting it in front of him and kissing him on the lips. And go back to get your plate and when you come back and set your plate down across Art, you notice his vegetables are gone from his plate and... on the floor, a very thin, useless napkin covering them.

"Babe." Now it's your turn to scowl at him. Art was some of the beef in his mouth. He looks up at you, dumbfounded. "Why the shit is your food on the floor?" Art shrugs and looks around at the floor around him and looks puzzled, like he's pretending the food on the floor doesn't exist. "Art." You glare at him and he just looks like he doesn't know what you're talking about, doing hand movements to tell you you're crazy.

You opened your mouth to speak but Art held up a finger, shushing you. He points to the beef and then his arm, his eyes questioning. "What?" He does the same again. You shrug, looking confused. Art rolls his eyes like you're the dumb one and points to the beef and then to you and him. "I dont-" Art rolls his eyes harder, throwing his body back in dramaticness too. He points to the beef again, and shrugs, looking at you like it's so obvious to know what he's trying to ask you.

"What is it??" You ask, trying to guess what he's trying to say. Art nods, happily and relieved that you finally got it. "It's beef. It's cow." You say and start eating, taking a bite of the chicken. Arts grin is quickly wiped off his face and he slumps. "What?" You ask and eat. Art does a handmovement to say "oh nevermind" and he starts eating. "I'm not cooking human, Art. Don't even think about it." You scold and Art mocks you in response. You just roll your eyes and eat, forgetting the vegetables on the floor.

🖤🖤🖤

After dinner, you two clean up the kitchen. Art washes the dishes while you put the dishes in the sink and wiping down the counters and sweeping the floor. You have music on, singing along as Art bops his head dances a little to the music.

After cleaning, you two go to your shared bedroom. As soon as your door closes, you pounce on Art. You wrap your arms around his neck and smash your lips against his. Almost like he was expecting it, Art instantly grabbed onto you and kissed you back, using tongue and gripping onto your pajamas.

Art pushes you against the wall, his hands still gripping your hips. Your hands reach behind his back and zipped down the zipper on his clown suit. Art starts peeling off your clothes until you're completely naked. You pull off arts clown fit until he's naked too, just his facepaint and mini tophat on.

Art flips you over so you're pressed against the wall. You open your legs a bit and Art grabs your asscheeks, opening them apart and angling his dick with your pussy. He spits on his dick and slowly slips into you, his hands moving to your hips. You let out a soft moan and press your cheek against the wall, looking back at him. Your full body is against the wall, your ass poking out a little.

Art starts slamming his hips against you, his pace getting rougher and rougher. Your body jolts and you moan louder. With every thrust, your thighs slap against the wall. Art reaches around your neck. He wraps his bare hand around the front of your neck and he flips you two over. His back lays against the wall, one hand on your hips as he continues to thrust into you. He pulls your head back by your neck, squeezing a little. Your hands reach back and grab onto his legs as his pace becomes almost unhuman.

Art slaps your ass hard as he does, grinning at your yelp in response. He trails is hand down, roughly grabbing your tits, then trailing fully down to your hip. He pushes down on your back to make you bend over and his other hand grabs a fistful off your hair and pulls your head back. Art grabs your thighs with the hands that was once on your back and opens your legs more. He then grabs your hand and places it on your pussy, and you start mastutbating yourself. All the while his pace stays harsh and rough like usual.

After a while you warn Art of your upcoming orgasm, to which he replies by slapping your ass harshly a couple more times until you cum on his dick; your fingers still circling your clit and Arts pace not faltering. Art abruptly stops his movements, planting himself balls deep into you. He lets go of your hair, his hands just resting on your hips. You slowly stand up straight again. Art grabs the hand you used to pleasure yourself with, pressing it against his lips and into his mouth, licking your juices off your fingers. His other hand pulls your hair back. He slowly turns to look at you, a grin on his face, and he dives in to kiss your lips.

He lets go of you and peels you off his dick, walking you to the bed and pushing you on your back, onto the bed. Art opens your legs, kneeling between them. He uses his fingers to massage your clit for a while before he raises his hand up and slaps your pussy. Not too hard but enough to sting. When he hears you moan and watches your legs jolt, he does it again. And again. And again. And again, till your pussy was wetter and red.

Art stops slapping you, then leans down and starts roughly eating your pussy. You moan loudly and wiggle a little as he does. He forces your legs open and keeps them there as he makes out with your pussy. You grab his head and push it closer to you, his large nose pressing against your clit.

You grind against his face until you cum on his face and he keeps eating you out. Your body spasms. He finally pulls away and licks his lips, standing up again. He lines his dick up with your pussy, instantly pludging himself into you and his expression contorts at the feeling. He starts moving his hips again, fast.

You cry out in overstimulation, your nails digging into his arms as his hands grip your hips tightly. A single tear runs down your face. Art sees this a grins, enjoying the pleasure- and pain- he's giving you. He licks the tear, biting your cheek a little before he comes back up. Your legs shake and tremble and your face looks disheveled. But Art loves when your helpless like this with him. Because of him.

Art winks down and at you and blows you a kiss. He then slams into you, hard, and stays there for a second, balls deep inside you. Then he does it again. And again. And again. He grins wider and wider with every moan you scream out.

He then wraps his hand around your neck, tightly, and starts up his fast, rough pace into you. Your hands claw at his arm as he chokes you, but not too hard. Well... not at first at least. After a couple more minutes, and a couple more orgasms pulled from you, he grips your neck tighter. Your face is now redder than it's ever been.

Art slams into you, cumming inside you, his grin not leaving his face, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your pussy. Even after he came, he kept going, moving fast like before. Like he had all the energy in the world. He squeezed a little tighter at your neck for a second, cutting your airways for only a second before he let you breath again as he fucked you.

Your body slowly became more and more limp, your eyes getting loopy and your heart racing. Your moans start getting fainter and quieter, which makes Art falter a bit but he doesn't stop. Seconds later your body goes limp and your eyes close. You passed out. Whether that be from the choking or from the overstimulation, you don't know. You just know you knocked out.

🖤🖤🖤

You woke up minutes later, now laying against a pillow on the bed. You have a blanket over your still-naked body and the ceiling fans on. You see Art sitting next to you on the bed, now in sports shorts and a T-shirt. He's looking down at you as you wake up, and you have a feeling he's been like that for the whole time you've been asleep.

Art has confusion and... fear in eyes. Fear for Art is rare. Rarer than rare. Someone like Art is never scared. Confused yes, he's sometimes confused, but not scared. He's watched you almost cut a finger off while cooking and his eyes looked more hungry and like he was holding back than scared for your life. But now he's scared. There's finally some human emotion in his eyes.

You two don't do anything but stare at eachother for some time. Didn't Art almost kill you when he got home? Why does he look worried now? It's like he's not even blinking.

Arts tilts his head, looking down at you. He slowly inches his hand to your neck, lightly touching the red marks of his hand left behind. You turn on your side, smiling tiredly as you look up at him. Art touches your face and raises his eyebrows, still confused on why you just knocked out mid sex. "Ya kno-" you stop talking when you hear your own voice. It's very very raspy. You clear your throat and go to talk again. That didn't help. Still raspy. But you talked anyway.

"A girl can only take so much, baby." You laugh. Art rolls his eyes and mocks you. He's back to his usual self. "Whaat??" You laugh again and wrap your arms around his waist. Art ruffles your already-messed-up hair, grinning down at you playfully again.

"Maybe if I wake up first tomorrow, I'll wake you up with a blowjob." You rub your elbow on his crotch and he instantly gets hard again. You get off him and lay back on the bed. He looks down at you with a frown. "Tomorrow." You remind him. Art huffs and rolls his eyes, getting into bed with you. You two sleep, clinging onto eachother.

🖤🖤🖤

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

[skzthelomlhehe]

Part two is heeerrrreeee~~~ hope y'all enjoy all this brainrot I'm having hahahahaha I lost my mind midway through writing this so idek what I wrote lololol hope it feeds y'alls delulu minds thooo~ Total Masterlist

MDNI // smutty. Very smutty. // Established relationships // x F!reader

Tag Reqs:@arestoucries

How your boyfriend!skz will react to you waiting for them in a sexy lingerie when they come home after a long day at work. [Ot8] {Pt. 2: maknae line}

Han Jisung

When i tell you he'll MELT. Like I'm saying FOLDED, WHIMPERING, FUCKING TREMBLING like- believe me or not- THE MAN IS GONNA LOSE HIS MIND. Like just imagine. He had a tough day at work, comes home expecting to like cuddle and whine in your arms and he just walks in on you wearing a lingerie makes you look so so so fucking pretty. He'll stand there on the door way, jaw dropped, whimpering squealing whatever. He's gonna walk up to you and embrace you in the warmest fucking hug, nuzzle into your neck and let you rub his painful bulge over his clothes before letting all that scrumptious milk out along with all his worries after. When you both are done he'd just lay there cuddling you going "oh baby... I love you so much... Fuck why are you so damn beautiful?? You're making me lose my fucking mind here..." And just whine cuz he just can't resist you.

Felix

Ok so hear me out. When people look at Felix they're usually like 'oh he's just a submissive ball of sunshine' BUT HAVE YOU SEEN HOW MISCHIEVOUS THE MAN IS??? Don't let his cute and innocent, pretty little face fool you, chat. Cuz he's a very sly little kitten and he KNOWS it. I said what I said and I rest my case. When he sees you in that lingerie he's gonna walk up to you without a word, hold your face gently with those little hands, kiss you deeply and go "oh darling... You always know how to get my mind off of things... Didn't know you'd have this under your sleeve too~" in the deepest motherfckn voice ever. {I shit you not- while I was writing this I suddenly started hearing moans from the other room and realised my uncle was watching corn 💀 anyways back to Felix} like- the man is gonna RAVAGE you. He's gonna eat you out like you're the last meal he'll have. He'll let you know how stupidly attractive you looked in those garments with the minimum fabric. He's gonna let you know how fucking scrumptious you are and how much he loves the way you are.

Seungmin

For seungmin, you'd think he had no feelings or thoughts. He'd walk in, not even surprised by your antiques. He'd probably just walk over to you slowly and then grab you by the waist and whisper into your ear like, "you know I had a bad today... And the things you're doing right now is very very dangerous..." He's the typa guy who would quiet down COMPLETELY when he's upset so when he gets your permission he'd just pick you up, throw you on the bed and feel you like a puppy he is all night long. I feel like he's the type who would whimper and groan in your arms and make the bed CREAKIN iykwim 😉 and instead of doing the work, he would just lay there while you ride him cuz he loves it when you're taking the lead, caressing him, loving him and just... Making him feel like the most loved man ever.

Jeongin

Ok so- hear me out- let's put aside the 'saving myself for after marriage' thing for a second (while I do respect it, let's just put it aside for a tiny bit) I feel like when he gets home and the first thing he sees is you like that, on their bed, laying there welcoming him, he'd look at you with those foxy slender eyes of his with this sly smirk (if you know what I mean, you know. If you don't, that's sad and I'm so sorry you don't cuz HONEY you're missing out.) once he's done eye fucking you from the door frame he'd just walk up to you like the fox he is (ok but why do I like- imagine him making some tiny fox squeals too???) he'd just go over to you, get on top of you while placing soft wet kisses then whisper in your ear like "is this the surprise you were talking about when I said I was having a bad day earlier, hm? You're such a cutie, yknow that?" And then nibble at the lobe of your ear. People think that he doesn't enjoy physical contact given the way he is (which might be true lol) but I feel like with his lover he'd be just a snuggly fox and a very soft loaf of bread. (And then daddy toastie comes out Lolol)

Once again, these are all my assumptions so please don't take anything seriously it's all just brainrot I've been having. They're their own individuals and I completely respect them and dearly love and cherish them.

That aside, I hope you guys enjoyed!

[moonstruckme]

hello mae! all your spooky drabbles have been amazing, you’re so talented! i was wondering if i can request a poly!marauders spooky drabble where they have a horror/slasher marathon and both reader and sirius are being insufferable trying to predict who’s the killer and remus is just being the voice of reason to all their theories and james just enabling them, asking them questions and its all fluffy?? thank you! hope you’re having a great spooky season 🎃🫶

Thank you lovely!!

cw: suggestive content

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 821 words

“It’s that actress,” Sirius muses, voice softened the way it always gets when you play with his hair. “What’s her name?” 

“That one?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Mia Goth.” 

Sirius adjusts his head on your chest. “Right, her. She never really plays the innocent, does she?” 

“Mm, you don’t think they’re trying to trick us?” 

A door opens down the hall, and you jump a little. Sirius chuckles, giving you a squeeze where his arms are wound underneath your jumper. “Chicken.” 

James waltzes into the living room looking properly rumpled. He’d dragged Remus away as soon as your workerbee boyfriend had gotten home, sequestering him in your bedroom. 

“Our entertainment wasn’t good enough for you?” Sirius asks as he sits down. 

James lifts Sirius’ legs, shuffling underneath so he’s closer to both of you. “Remus was gone all day,” he says simply. “I missed him.” 

“I can see that,” you laugh, poking at a red mark on his neck. “Jamie, what happened here?”

“Shh.” James nestles in close to kiss the skin by your ear. “You should see the other guy.”

Remus walks in, nimble fingers buttoning his shirt, but not before you spot the half dozen hickeys scattered about his chest.

“You deviants,” Sirius gripes. You suspect he’s a tiny bit wounded at being left out of the lovefest. “Movie night is supposed to be for all of us, and now you’ve missed half the middle.” 

“The middle’s always the most predictable part anyway,” says Remus, sitting down and putting his feet on the coffee table. 

Sirius kicks at him vengefully. Remus catches his foot, casting him an unimpressed look while he presses his thumb into the ticklist part of Sirius’ arch. Your boyfriend yelps, yanking his foot back. His fingers tighten around your middle. 

“Who are we thinking the killer is?” James picks up the bowl of kettle corn he’d abandoned on the coffee table earlier, scooping up a handful. Remus silently collects the pieces that fall onto the couch. 

One of Sirius’ hands comes out of your sweatshirt to take a piece. “Maybe Mia Goth.” 

“Ahh, I see. Who’s that?” 

“The blonde one there,” you say. 

“Oh, her.” James murmurs to Remus, “Have we seen her before?”

“Yeah, Jamie.” 

“I don’t know, I kind of wonder if it could be the mom,” you say. “You don’t usually see any real adults in these. It seems like the setup for something.” 

Remus hums. “Have any of her kids been killed?” 

You frown. “Well, yeah.” 

“I wouldn’t put my money on her, then.” 

You and Sirius exchange a look. Remus has a pretty stellar track record when it comes to guessing the killer in these films. You both want him to be wrong, but he’s likely right. 

“You never know,” says Sirius. He’s begun tracing patterns into your skin with his fingertips, phantom tattoos over your ribs. “They always have a partner in these things. Her partner could have betrayed her by killing one of the kids. Or she could be a psychopath that wants to escape the constraints of her domestic life, and this whole thing is just a way to kill off her kids without anybody suspecting her.” 

“Diabolical,” James mutters, shoving more kettle corn in his mouth. Three pieces tumble to the couch, which Remus picks up. 

“You guys always get caught up in the tropes,” Remus says. “It keeps you from seeing the logical choice.” 

Sirius frowns up at you. You pet his head. “You’re no fun,” he says to Remus.

“Oi,” Remus laughs, “I’m only trying to help you.” 

“They don’t want to know who the killer is, love,” says James, leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder consolingly. “They want to shoot off theories and then be surprised by the end.” 

You and Sirius gawp. “That’s not true!” you say. 

James looks genuinely confused. “It’s not?” 

“No! Obviously we want to know who it is.” 

“That’s it.” Sirius waves them away with a sweep of his hand. “Go back to your debauchery, leave us to enjoy our film.” He snuggles close to you, leaning up to kiss the underside of your jaw. “We won’t let them spoil it for us, sweetness.” 

“Wait, no,” James laughs. “We’re sorry.”

“We won’t spoil anything,” Remus vows. He leans around James to give you a soft look, and you feel your lips tilt up unwillingly. 

Sirius regards them both coolly. “You’ll be good for the rest of the film?” 

Remus’ eyes flash with amusement, and he grabs Sirius’ foot again, the threat potent. 

“We’ll be good,” James agrees. 

You and Sirius look at each other, both pretending to deliberate whilst suppressing your grins. He’s much better at it than you are.

“All right,” he says magnanimously. “You can stay.” 

“Good. It is our flat, too, you know.” James grabs a heaping fistful of kettle corn, bringing it to his mouth. 

Several pieces overflow, falling to the couch. Remus sighs. “Honestly, James.” 

[space-cowgirllll]

boy mom abby save me. save me boy mom abby.

Lemme yearn for a sec. I went apple picking and to the pumpkin patch this weekend and it inspired this.

"Abby, hold him still!"

Your wife braces herself against the wall as the two year old in her arms starts failing around even harder, almost slipping out of her grasp. "What do you think I'm doing?"

The two of you giggle as you try to get the tiny jeans up his legs with little success. The toddler using his feet to kick them off as soon as you get his leg in. One particularly hard kick has you moving out of the way just a second before his foot can connect with your stomach. The quick movement making you wince when you feel a sharp pain in your lower back. Abby quickly sets him down, crouching down rub at the sore spot. The sound of his footprints loud as he wobbles away barefoot and pantsless. 

"I'm fine." You grab at the blonde's hands on your bump. "Just moved too fast is all."

She nods, giving the top of your head a quick peck before following the sound of a toy blaring from the other room. With newfound determination, she quietly sneaks up on the toddler, scooping him up and gently dropping him on the couch. His dinosaur like screech pierces your ears. You watch her struggle for a second as she maneuvers him into the pair of overalls while explaining why kicking at mama was bad. 

"Ha!" 

She holds out your son, now fully dressed in a long sleeve and jean overalls. His blonde hair is disheveled and the little knit cardigan you'd tossed at her last minute was unbuttoned, but he was making no move to pull it off so you'd take it. The smug grin is wiped off her face when she sees you sheepishly holding up the little boots and olive green jacket that he'd finally grown into. He breaks loose again, clearly not a fan of the added layer. She rolls her eyes, playfully snatching them out of your hands as she takes off after him down the hall.

"Leave it to you to pick out an outfit with nothing but buttons." 

"What are all those muscles for if not to wrangle toddlers?" You quip.

---

"Oh my god, no! Don't put that in your mouth!"

Warm pastry in hand, you watch Abby chase your son around from where you rest on one of the benches outside the small shop on the farm. Whoever decided a corn pit was good entertainment had clearly never dealt with small children. You smile into your cup as your wife grabs the toddler's small fist away from his mouth and prying it open, letting the small pile of corn fall to the ground, only for him to take two steps away from her and pick more up.  

Your pumpkins had already been picked and loaded in your trunk. Abby took her sweet time of course, wanting to choose the perfect ones for your front porch. You recall the conversation you'd had as she carried a medium sized pumpkin to the nearby wheelbarrow.

"This is kinda heavy." 

You hum unimpressed, gesturing with your free hand to the large swell of your seven month pregnant belly. "Try having that strapped to your stomach and pushing on your bladder twenty-four seven."

The blonde winces. "You're absolutely amazing." 

She acted like she didn't hear your mostly empty threats of saran wrapping one to her as she picked up the pace, pretending to have found 'the one' just a few rows down.

You rub at your lower back, too pregnant to be doing this much. Your eyes flutter shut at the temporary relief. After a full day filled with apple picking, a petting zoo, and trying to keep up with an energetic toddler and dog during various activities, you were wiped. 

"You okay?"

Abby stands in front of you, holding a sleepy toddler in her arms. Your family dog, Alice, following closely at her side. His head is tucked in her neck, fist rubbing at his eyes that are struggling to stay open. The sight of their matching flushed cheeks and pouty lips makes you smile. She can't help but feel guilty for dragging you out here. You look exhausted.

"Yeah. Just resting my feet." 

"The last tractor ride of the day is about to start, but I think we've all had enough for the day." She helps you up, grabbing the basket of apples you'd picked and holding it out of reach when you try to grab it.  "I got it baby. Just grab on to my arm, and focus on not slipping."

Stubborn as ever, you pull the leash from her hand. Grabbing her by the collar of her jacket, you reach up to press your cold lips to hers. "Love you."

Sometime later as she slowly drives down the windy mountain roads, Abby looks over at you. Your head is resting on the window, one hand in hers and the other resting atop your bump. The even up and down of your chest lets her know you're asleep. In the rearview mirror she's met with the sweet sight of her son's hand resting on Alice's head. He'd most likely fallen asleep whilst petting her. The dog content enough with the contact to not move when Abby looks at her.

To think this time next year, there'll be another car seat back there. Another little boy to love. She looks back your sleeping face, bringing your joined hands up, pressing kisses to the back of your hand as she continues down the road home. The diamond of your ring rough against her lips. 

You'd given her everything she's ever dreamed of. As she pulls into the driveway she can't help but think life truly couldn't get better than this.

[strnilolover]

⋆.˚ Not a Sound .ᐟ

Warnings : smut, unprotected pnv (be safe y’all), doggy style, public/semi-public? (corn maze. also don’t know which it falls under LOL), praising, cream pie, slight cum eating (matt does it), fluff, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel)

A/N : tell me why i had this idea of shit happening IN A CORN MAZE. Matt had suggested you guys go to the pumpkin patch as a cute date thing… butttt things turned south in the corn maze.

The crisp autumn air fills your lungs as you step through the pumpkin patch hand-in-hand with Matt. The colorful leaves crunch underfoot, and the sun is just beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the field. It's the perfect fall day—families wandering around with their kids, the scent of cider in the air, and laughter ringing out from a nearby hayride.

You’ve been looking forward to this all week. Matt had surprised you with the idea, suggesting the pumpkin patch for a fun, laid-back day. At first, it was all about picking out the perfect pumpkin, sipping on hot chocolate, and just enjoying each other's company.

You had dragged matt to so many different areas. Trying different flavored doughnuts and drinks, even convincing him to buy you little souvenirs, one of those including matching fall themed stuffed animals for yourselves.

Matt got his own share of fun too, watching you run around looking at all the different pumpkins to decide which one you wanted — but inevitably decided you didn’t want one because none were “perfect enough.” But, just being with you was more than he could have wanted. Of course, he picked up some things of his own to take back when you guys decided it was time to head home.

At some point you had pulled matt toward one of the hayrides, wanting to ride around the pumpkin patch to look at all the different things the ride passed by.

“Matt c’mon!” you say excitedly, your grip on his hand tightening slightly as you pulled him behind you toward the hayride. He chuckled behind you, letting his body be freely dragged around. “Alright, alright. i’m coming, so eager sweetheart.” he said, rolling his eyes playfully at your excitement.

Your smile just widened, getting into line behind everyone else who was also waiting for the hayride. You turned to matt, slipping your arms around him as your head tipped back. “I want to go to the corn maze — the hayride stops right by it for people to get off.” You state, puppy eyes plastered on your features.

How could matt say no to you? Matt nodded his head, pulling you closer to him as his own arms encircled around you. “We can go to the corn maze, i don’t see why we can’t.” he says, leaning his head down to place a kiss to your temple.

You beamed, hugging him tightly before pulling away. Matt kept his arm around your waist, the line getting smaller and smaller as the hayrides kept coming and going. Soon enough it was yours and matt’s turn, climbing into the trailer filled with hay as other people climbed in along side the both of you.

Matt sat down, tugging you down to sit on his lap. You faltered for a moment, not expecting him to have you seated there, but smiled non the less. The driver of the tractor waited for everyone to be seated before the ride started.

Once the tractor roared to life and began pulling the trailer behind it, your eyes trained on anything and everything they could see. Ranging from the multiple patches full of vibrant orange pumpkins, to the little stables holding all the animals you were allowed to pet and feed.

You loved every second of it, Matt tentatively watching your reaction to every little thing that was passed by. The way your eyes beamed, innocent peaking through those beautiful eyes of yours. He could watch you all day.

Soon enough, the hayride came to a stop near the entrance of the giant corn maze — the estimated time to get through it on average was about 30 minutes. Your body buzzed with excitement, hopping off of matt’s lap and exiting the hayride, not even bothering waiting for matt.

But matt quickly caught your wrist once he got off behind you, pulling you to him. “You’ve gotta stay near me baby, don’t want ya gettin’ lost.” He said, holding you close as he began to walk to the entrance of the corn maze. “Yeah..yeah you’re right.” you mumbled, knowing if you did get lost, you’d have a hard time trying to find your way out alone.

Once you reached the entry way of the maze, matt turned to look at you. “Ready?” He whispered, smiling softly. You nodded, “As long as you don’t let me get lost.”

-

It had been about 10 minutes already, the first few turns of the maze were simple enough, and Matt stayed close, guiding you with an ease that made you feel safe. Though it felt as if you’d been in there way longer with how many times you both ran into multiple dead ends.

The tall stalks of corn towered high above you both and after running into another dead end, you groaned, clearly frustrated with how many wrong turns that were taken. “Matt we’re so lost! this isn’t even fair.” You huffed, a pout pulling at your lips as you crossed your arms.

Matt stopped beside you, watching the way your face turned into a pout, his own curling into a grin. “Sweetheart, we’re bound to get lost. it’s a maze that’s kinda the point.” He says, chuckling as he pulled you into a hug.

You huffed once more, stomping your foot a little. “But it’s supposed to be a fun lost! not a frustrated lost.” You say, your forehead resting against his chest. You hadn’t realized you were cold, Matt’s body heat covering you like a warm blanket which seemed to ease your frustration a little.

You guys stood there for a moment, the only thing that could be heard was the distant laughing of other couples and children. You were already deeply lost into this maze, making it a little harder to try and find your way out, which you knew.

Matt’s arms tightened around you more, seeing you shiver slightly, keeping you in a tight embrace as he rocked back a fourth a little. He could see the tension easing from you a little, slowly resting against him as you took time to recollect your thoughts.

But, in the midst of holding you, Matt had an idea. One that he probably shouldn’t act on, but one that sounded so good — so intriguing.

He pulled back slightly from you, your brows furrowing as you looked up at him. “Matt?” You questioned softly, his gaze already looked down at you.

He smirked, pulling away just enough for his hand to brush against your cheek. His thumb gently traced your skin, the roughness of his calloused fingers sending a shiver down your spine.

“You know,” He started, his voice low and teasing, “maybe getting lost isn’t such a bad thing.” His thumb moved to brush against your bottom lip, lingering there as his eyes darkened with intent. “It gives us some time alone.”

Your breath hitched as you felt his thumb press a little more firmly against your lip. His touch was slow, deliberate, and it sent a wave of warmth through you, pooling low in your belly.

The maze around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this hidden, secret world. You were acutely aware of how close he was, the heat of his body pressing against yours, his scent, the way his eyes never left yours.

“Matt…” you whispered, your voice soft. You felt your lips part slightly as his thumb brushed across them again. “We can’t — there’s other people out here.” You stated, but you couldn’t deny the adrenaline that rushed through your body at the thought of someone catching you two.

He hummed, his gaze seemed laser focused on your lips. His thumb pushing forward slightly, asking for entrance. Which you obliged, opening your lips for his thumb to slip past your lips, resting on the flat of your tongue. You closed your mouth around the digit, swirling your tongue and sucking softly.

Matt leaned forward, bringing his lips close to your ear, his breath warm. “I think you like the idea of being caught by someone out here, hm?” He mumbled, nipping your earlobe softly. You gasped at his words, your hands gripping his waist.

You didn’t shy away from it though, your head nodding slowly as you continued to suck on his thumb, unable to find the words as your body practically hummed with anticipation.

Matt’s smile widened, his other hand found your waist, pulling you closer. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured. You could feel the heat of his breath as his lips moved toward your neck, peppering open mouth kisses along the side.

His hand slid under the hem of your sweater, fingers grazing the bare skin of your waist, sending sparks of heat through you. You whimpered softly, your body arching into his touch. Soon enough, you released this thumb with a wet ‘pop’, your breathing ragged as his hand trailed higher.

He stopped for a moment though, head pulling back to look at you. Your face red and flushed, eyes hooded even though he hasn’t even done much yet. “You sure you want this baby?” He asked softly. You stilled for a moment, knowing this was risky but nodded your head, leaning into him, your lips brushed against one another’s. “I want this — I want you. I know it’s risky but.. please.” You mumbled before attaching your lips to his own.

You sighed, your hands moving up to tug into his hair, eliciting a groan from matt that you swallowed. He pulled back after a minute, breathing hard as he let go of you, tugging his jacket off of himself.

You watched curiously as he laid it on the ground before turning back to you. A smirk tugged at his lips as he grabbed your hand, moving you down to lay on it as he hovered over you. “s’too cold to undress,” he muttered as he resumed pressing kisses to your neck, sucking a few dark bruises in the process, a soft moan slipping past your lips at the action. “But m’still gonna give you what you want.”

He kissed his way to your lips, capturing them in a slow but desperate kiss as his cold hands ran under your sweater once more, pushing your bra slightly to tweak at your hardened nubs. You gasped at the action, body pushing into his own more.

Your body was on fire, the coolness of the air didn’t even affect you anymore, all you could focus on was matt.

He broke the kiss once more, hand sliding out from your sweater to grab at your body, slowly turning you over with your help. You could feel the soft dirt beneath his jacket, your elbows and knees digging into it as his hand pushed on your lower back, causing it to arch. Matt leaned over you, moving your hair to the side.

“You want more, don’t you?” he whispered, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as his hand slid down, fingers gripping the fabric of your jeans, teasing you. “you’ve gotta ask for it, sweetheart.”

You whimpered softly, your body trembling with anticipation as his fingers lingered on the edge of your waistband. “Please…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, “Please, Matt, I need you.” His smirk deepened, and you felt his lips press against your neck, trailing soft, teasing kisses along your skin once more. “That’s my girl,” he murmured against your neck, his breath warm and sending shivers down your spine. “Always so good for me.”

His fingers tugged your jeans down, tugging your panties along with them. The cool air hitting your bare, soaked cunt made you shiver, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips. The sensation of his touch, combined with the thrill of being in the open, hidden away in the maze, made everything more intense.

“Keep quiet, baby,” he whispered, his voice low. “We wouldn’t want anyone to hear you, would we?” You bit your lip, nodding quickly as your heart raced. His hand slid down, fingers swiping through your soaked folds, prodding at your entrance for a moment before plunging his fingers in. Your warm walls sucked his fingers in gracefully, a moan slipping past your lips before you could even control it.

His feee hand came around, covering your mouth as his fingers continued to plunge into you, curling them just right to that spot inside you. Your eyes rolled back, soft whines emitting behind his hand. Just as you could feel a knot starting to form, he pulled them out. Whining at the loss of contact before you heard the sound of his belt, his hand tugging his own jeans down, letting himself spring free.

He hissed as the cool air hit his sensitive tip that was red, beads of pre-cum spilling out of it. Your head turned to look at him over your shoulder, watching as he stroked himself a few times before lining up with your entrance, shirt tucked between his teeth.

You whimpered at the sight, head falling down as matt’s hand moved away from your mouth. He gripped your hips, pushing forward so slowly, his tip sliding through your folds and into your warmth. He groaned, throwing his head back at the feeling of you wrapped around him.

“f-fuck matt..” You whined out, nails digging into the ground below you as he started to pick up his pace. His hips worked up a ruthless rhythm, slamming into yours. “Told ya to be quite angel, didn’t i?” He moaned, but his hips never stopped, it was like he was testing you — seeing how good you could be for him.

He pulled your hips higher, creating a new angle that caused him to hit deeper inside you — a loud mewl leaving your lips. But you didn’t care anymore, and matt didn’t either, too lost in the pleasure of each other.

“M-matt please-“ You didn’t know what you were asking him for, choked moans leaving your lips as his grip tightened on your hips. “What baby? —fuck — what y’need hm?” He gritted out between groans.

You shook your head, tears pricking the corner of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure, a few slipping down your face. But you didn’t need to say anything more, matts hand reached around finding its way to your swollen clit as he rubbed it in tight circles. You cried out, hips pushing into matt’s as you meet his thrusts.

Your walls fluttered around his cock, squeezing him as the knot in your stomach began to form once more. Matt moaned, hips speeding up once more as they slammed into you. “Shit — doin’ so good f’me baby, so good.” His words came out breathlessly, the pin pricks of his own release creeping up his spine.

Your walls squeezed him once more at his praising words, the knot in your stomach began to grow tighter. His fingers still circling tightly around your sensitive nub. You threw your head back, eyes fluttering. “G-Gonna cum…fuck — Matt gonna-“ You cut yourself off with a high pitched moan as you feel your muscles grow tighter.

“Yeah? c’mon baby — come f’me, wanna hear you.” He groaned, his hand on your hip digging in more to your skin, surely leaving bruises.

That was all you needed before you cried out loudly, tipping over as your body shook, releasing all over his cock, your juices coating him and your thighs. Matt hissed at the tightness of your walls, spurring him on as his hips slammed into yours more as he chased his own high.

Your body trembled as it bordered overstimulation, his hand moving away from your clit to rest both hands on your hips as he lost himself inside your gummy walls. “Y’feel s’good baby — gonna let me cum in ya? fill you so good.” He growled, your head nodding vigorously at his words. “yes yes yes — please!” You begged.

He grunted, slamming his cock into you a few more times before he stilled, filling you with his hot cum. You gasped at the feeling of his seed filling you, feel so fucking full. He draped himself over you for a moment, pressing kisses over your clothed back as he whispered praises to you for doing such a good job for him.

After a moment of catching your breaths, the coldness from the air starts to creep back into your skin, making you shiver. Matt pressed one more kiss to your back as he sat back up, slowly pulling out as you winced. He cooed at you, pressed a soft kiss to your sore cunt.

“lemme get you cleaned up baby.” He muttered before his tongue darted out, moving through your folds as he cleaned up both of your releases. You whined out, hand reaching back to try and push him away but he wouldn’t budge. “M-matt m’too sensitive.” You cried. After a few moments, his movements stopped before he pulled away, sitting back on his heels as he pulled your jeans and panties back to their rightful places before he moved to his own jeans and boxers.

You slowly pushed yourself up with trembling arms, matt’s own slowly snaking around you to help pull you against him as you both sat there for a moment. “You doin’ okay pretty girl? Didn’t hurt you did i?” He asked softly, pressing feather light kisses to your face. A lazy smile pulled at your lips, shaking your head. “M’okay — didn’t hurt me.” You whispered.

He nodded his head, shifting to pull your bodies up from the ground. He held you in his arms, your legs like jello as you stood. He swiftly grabbed his jacket from the ground, ridding it of any dirt before slipping it back into himself. Just in time too as you both heard some faint voices seeming to get closer to where you two were at.

A blush rises to your already reddened face — both from the cold and what just happened. Matt pulls back slightly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Think you can walk out of here, or do I need to carry you?”

You laugh softly, still feeling a bit unsteady on your feet, but the warmth of his teasing smile makes you feel grounded again. “I think I can manage.”

Matt grins, kissing the top of your head. “Good. Because we still have to go back and pick out pumpkins since someone didn’t want to earlier.” He chuckled as he takes your hand again, leading you both through the rest of the unfinished maze.

♡ A/N 2 : ask and ye shall receive @mattscoquette . I think i like how this turned out, it’s a little long (sorry) but it also feels a little rushed and drug out? Hopefully y’all like it!!

[banmitbandit]

Pots 'N' Picks Week 2024: Day 1: Tradition

Due to the similarities between dwarves and the half-foot God of the Harvest, and half-foots and the dwarvern God of Silversmithing, it's believed that there were originally communities of these two races that coexisted in ancient times, before eventually becoming ostracized from one another for unknown reasons. Scholars have found ancient artwork of these two gods dancing in fields of wheat, corn and sunflowers, and renewing their yearly vows with handfasting during the festival Sennasadh. Also found are stories of the pair feasting together, decorated in silver jewelery during the festival Timnos, presumably made by the god-with-hairs-of-silver's own hands. Poetry also exists, frequently referencing the pair in romantic connotations, but scholars today maintain the belief that the two gods were just really good friends.

Happy Pots 'n' Picks Week! I don't know how far I wanted to go with this but I definitely love the idea of half-foot and dwarf cultures being influenced by paganism. I'm always a sucker for God AUs, too! Their outfits, especially Chilchuck's, are inspired by these particular outfits from the daydream hours 3 and 4, because they're super pretty. :)

[visenyaism]

jaehaerys administration dashboard simulator

🫧maidenpooled Follow

listen i know all kingsguard are bastards but jonquil darke put a cigarette out on me. i think i huave shivers

♟️redwhine

ok bootlicker. you know what she did

🫧maidenpooled Follow

boots not the only thing id lick

🌸queencrowned Follow

this could literally be me and my brother if it weren't for my bitch mom trying to send me to the other side of the fucking continent

🍒saerious

GIRL STAND UP

🤎bowlofbrown

doctrine of exceptionalism meatriders when someone asks them why 75% of dragonstone is blonde and me and half of flea bottom have gleaming amethyst eyes and/or beautiful delicate cheekbones

🥀maegorwife Follow

that's different...targaryens are literally divinely ordained by the seven to rule because they're stronger and better than us...that's why they have the dragons it is in their sanctified valyrian blood

🩸knifeinthedark

SO TRUE...THEY WANT TO ABOLISH THE RIGHT TO FIRST NIGHT BECAUSE OF WOKE. AND YET THEY STILL DO IT. BUT NO ONE CAN SAY ANYTHING ANYMORE OR THOSE GENDER-NEUTRAL DRAGONS WILL BURN YOUR KEEP DOWN

🤎bowlofbrown

cannot stand this fucking website. spending my last silver stag on tyroshi blue hair dye im not going to be associated with you people.

🍒saerious

oh so when maegor has seven wives he’s “aegon’s true son” and “cool” but when i have three boyfriends suddenly im a “whore”

🫀lustywench Follow

op i support you but they did call him “the cruel” for that it was a very important part of the story that he was in fact maegor “the cruel”

🌟sevenpointedstar

🌗maidensgrace

doing all of this with a FAITH OF THE SEVEN URL...girl you better pick a hell and start hoping

#bring back the faith militant

❄️theythemderly

hey isn’t it weird that so many of the king’s children have suddenly and mysteriously died lately. under the care of the maesters. what if they’re planning something…,

🕯️glasscandled

ugh i wish🙄 speed that shit up fr

🥵ullerscorpion

likes charge reblog cast

😈themarcherrrrrr-deactivated5699

me when im in a being dead combination and my opponents are jaehaerys' whole army of childraeyn of the corn

🙌fleabottomtop

yoooooooo theyre quarrelling again.

🙌fleabottomtop

alysanne targaryen if you're reading this i could change your life just give me one chance let me hit

🙌fleabottomtop

there are gold cloaks outside of my house

⚔️errantmaid Follow

kingsguard dick is good as fuck when you don't have a motherfucker in your ear saying it violates a sacred vow made in the eyes of the king and the seven😜

⚔️errantmaid Follow

the king chopped it off and sent him to the wall i fucking hate this place can't have SHIT in king's landing

🏵️floriansjonquil

hey has anyone seen princess gael. it's been literal months and she seems to have up and disappeared with no official announcement from the palace? would be the third female relative to go missing in the king's custody after aerea and saera....

🐝beeeeeeeeeeeeesbury Follow

damn that's crazy. im sure shes fine though anyways i'm a big fan of this new road the king built theres a lot of nice new roads does anyone else like the roads

🐦‍⬛cloakedinfeathers Follow

day 18262 of not fighting the brackens. this is boring as fuckkkkk what am i supposed to do. pretend to care about the triarchy?

🐎brackennation

kill yourself

🐦‍⬛cloakedinfeathers Follow

192.158.1.38. doxxed. get your dumbfuck horse breeder knights ready because our strongest and noblest raven warriors are on the way to your nasty ass keep right now bitch

[zvdvdlvr]

corn maze + john price

synopsis - you go to a corn maze and get fucked by john

warnings - unprotected sex, pet names, ooc!john price

notes - trying to get back into the swing of things. who knows if this will last.

i need someone to match my freak. i need JOHN PRICE to match my freak guys.

like, i could definitely go for a quickie with him in a corn maze.

just think. its early in the season of fall- ordinarily too early for the pinterest couples and groups of friends to be swarming the corn maze and pumpkin patch. you sweet talked john into going and getting the first pick of the patch early on in the season because you knew you both may get called back to work.

you were both wearing jeans and boots- the wind had a slight nip to it now- and miraculously convinced your boyfriend to wear the deep red Henley that clung to his muscles so well. in return, he had picked out a blaringly bright orange sweater so you could ‘fit in with the pumpkins’ or some other bullshit that brought a smile to his face. 

john had let you lead him around the peacefully unpopulated grounds- purchasing apple cider and other odds and ends you saw fit. he knew that you just wanted one day to feel like a normal, regular, sane couple that didn’t have their hands soaked in blood every other day- literally or figuratively. and in all honesty, he didn’t mind letting you happily pull him along because the smile on your face was worth diamonds.

eventually, after you picked over all the shops and food stands, you stopped in front of the corn maze. “final stop, john. then you can take me home,” you mused, snuggling into his inhumanly warm side. 

your boyfriend hummed beside you. “finally,” he grumbled jokingly. The quiet chuckle he earned from his comment made his heart swell a little fuller. “alright, love. lead the way.”

Five minutes later, you had no clue where to go. Ironic, right? You cursed yourself- how could you not know how to escape some dumb corn maze?

Just as your feet started to ache, you lead the both of you into a corn with a couple hay bales in the corner. John followed you and chortled as you sat down on the bale. You could barely feel the pointy straw poking your ass. 

“Stupid maze,” you grumbled.

John’s eyes twinkled. “Let me eat you out, love.”

The casualness of his tone made your mouth open and close once. Twice. “John. My love. My heart. We’re in a corn maze right now.”

One step and he crouched doen to your eye level. The devilish smile that crinkled his eyes was softening your resolve and he knew it. “C’mon, love,” he cooed, brushing a lock of your frizzy hair from your eyes. “Just let me make you feel good, yeah?” 

Stupid man and stupid sexy voice, you thought spitefully, as John’s hands clasped around your waist. He slid his hands over the soft fabric covering your waist. As he leaned closer and pressed his lips to yours in an entoxicatingly slow kiss, he slid his large hands down to the meat of your thighs.

He drank in your moans, letting your hands latch onto the back of his neck. John parted your thighs with his hand. After breaking the kiss, he sank to his knees and tugged you forward before busying himself with undoing your belt buckle.

Waves of goosebumps picked at your skin. By the cold and by John’s skillful hands, tugging your pants and underwear sown far enough to feast his eyes (and eventually mouth) on your already soaked cunt.

Are you still with me here? Because I know John would eat you so good that your inner thighs would be bright red from the prickliness of his facial hair. But honestly, you didn’t care too much. Not after John forcing not one but two orgasms out of you.

Then he finally decided to lift you up and sit him on his cock. It was a miracle you were still concious enough to give him sass, saying “at least take me on a date first, John.” He had responded with a sharp thrust into your gushing pussy.

“You come on my tongue twice, and you’re the one giving me ?” John chides you, a roughness in his voice that made your pussy tighten. “Might want to watch your mouth, love.”

You stayed silent, letting him get used to the feel of you. Your body shivered and you wrapped your arms around John’s neck, voice breaking as you pleaded for him to ruin you: right here in a fucking corn maze.

“Please, John,” you moaned. He grabbed a handful of your ass and squeezed. your positioning was awkward but you knew John would take care of you. “I need it.”

Luckily for you, John didn’t feel like wasting any more time. He positioned his hands to be gripping your waist and started moving. Agonizingly slow, he lifted you up and down, John complied. Your breathless mewls were music to John’s ears as he slowly sped up his pace, fucking up into your core.

It didn’t take long for you to feel that white-hot ball of heat tensing up in your gut. This time, though, you were worried you’d cum too fast- too overstimulated from your previous orgasms.

“Fuuuck,” John groaned into your ear. “Squeezin’ me just right, love.”

John’s words sent a chill down your spine. You bit down on your hand until it bled. John’s speed only increased.

“I feel you clenchin’ around my cock, love,” John told you. The rasp in his voice only sent you closer to your high. “Takin’ me just right. Your pussy’s perfect, love. Like you’re made for me,” he rambled, fucking you so roughly you knew you’d have bruises.

You grip at his shirt helplessly as John repeatedly hits that spot inside of you that feels like heaven. “Christ, John,” you whimper out.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Like it when I tell you what a good girl y’are?”

Tears stream down your face and the coil in your gut is so hot, so alive, so ready. “I’m gonna- John- I’m… gonna-“

“Cum for me, darlin’,” John tells you, voice choked. “Cum on my cock.”

And Jesus Christ you do. You barely have time to slap a hand over your mouth before you cum. Salty tears drip down your face while you feel your thighs go lax as the coil snaps.

John’s warm cum spills into you as he pulls you down one final time and muffles his own groaning by shoving his face into your stupidly orange sweater.

It takes a full minute and a half for you to stop twitching in John’s arms. And even so, you can feel your breathing shudder ever so slightly.

“John?”

You feel rather than hear John’s rumble of a reply. Your hand cards through his hair and you attempt to calm your breathing.

“Are you ready?”

Another grumble.

So yeah. Also. I love him. I am a hot sexy loser. Goodnight everyone love you all im losing my sanity!

[kedreeva]

I gave Bug a box of papers to destroy for DEATH DESTRUCTION MAYHEM time (aka the time of day she gets bored and will destroy things of her choosing if I do not give her something to do). One of her favorite activities is "pulling stuff out of boxes" so this was quite the treat.

She spent a good 30 minutes pulling out papers and picking them up and shaking them looking for treats (there was some corn in there, so it wasn't a fruitless endeavor), and then laid down and took a nap amidst the rubble for another half hour.

This was not, you must understand, any desire to make a nest or find a place to sleep or dust bathe or anything. She has a dust bathing bin (that she can access herself at any time, and she knows where it is and uses it), and perches and towels and blankets she can nest in. She just likes to destroy things and bask in what she has wrought. I could put a bird shaming sign beside her, but it would be rather evidently a lie, as she knows no shame.