#feels like one sturdy bitch

[5leggedlamb]

Ok so I tried it with thicker thread and omg this thing looks as if it's going to last me 5 generations what the hell

[gojosprettyprincess]

BESTFRIEND SATORU HELPING YOU COPE WITH YOUR BREAKUP!!

Degradation n praising, Satoru likes you. Not proofread. I hate this sm and it was rushed but oh well

ଘ ੭ ✩‧₊˚

You made your best effort to compose yourself, attempting to suppress the sobs that threatened to overwhelm you as you gently rapped on the sturdy wooden door looming in front of you. Hastily trying to put yourself together before you were met with Satoru’s familiar, handsome face.

His eyes gleamed with excitement as soon as he caught sight of you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"What are you doing here so late babe, Shouldn't you be uhhh—having boring phone sex with your little boyfriend?" he quipped—his playful chuckle hinting with pride and maybe even jealousy laced with it.

His expression quickly changed to concernment when he saw the tears escaping your eye line. Instantly, his face softened and he moved closer, gently gripping your shoulders to get you to look at him.

"Woah, are you okay, sweetheart? Did something happen?", he asked worriedly as warm tears streamed down your face, he gently moved one of his hands to the back of your head, guiding your face into his chest for a tight embrace.

"What happened? C'mon, talk to me" he softly mumbled, feeling your sobs resonating against his chest, you sniffled and finally broke down, "No Satoru, He cheated! he fucking cheated on me—I don’t know what to do”. You gripped onto his shirt tightly as you held onto him.

His mouth gaped in shock and anger as he hugged you impossibly closer, The scent of his minty cologne enveloped you, clouding your thoughts and senses as you continued to cry in his arms.

“What??? I'm so sorry sweetheart, knew that fucking prick didn't deserve you—I'm so fucking sorry. What can I do to make you feel better?"

___

“Ahh, shit gonna lose my fucking mind in this tight pussy.” he lets out a throaty groan that resonated in the air.

Pure sweat glistened from his body, his biceps, his chest, his back—all fucking sticky and damp almost as if he was working out— well it coulddd count as a workout, technically.

“No fucking way, that dumb fucker cheated on this”, he gasped, anger coursing through him as his hand instinctively gripped onto the headboard for stability while he loses himself to the warmth of your soppy pussy compressing the life out of his cock, each squeeze pulling him deeper into your core.

His white bangs stuck to his forehead as the ends tickled his face with dampness. You mewled loudly as your face distorted with unanticipated pleasure—Pleasure that you'd never thought you could ever felt before, until this day.

He had you folded in a fucked-up mating press—insisting that the closer he is to you, the better he'd be able to comfort you.

“Fuckk! Toruu~” you moaned pornographically, your toes involuntarily curling against his toned back as your knees knocked against your bouncing tits.

His beaming blue eyes piercing through you feverishly as he stared down at you—his face just mere inches away from yours. "Fuck yeahh, moan my fucking name just like that sweetheart, that's right. I'm the one pounding this perfect little pussy” he purrs softly, smirking as drool escapes your lips.

Of course, he was unhappy and worried to see his poor best friend miserable because of the breakup. But deep down, a part of him felt…relieved?

It's not like that dumb, immature scrawny bitch could ever give you what he has to offer.

Never, Never never never. You deserved better, way better. Someone like him…

“Mmm Fuckkk, Satoruuu. stretching me s’good” you cried out in pure ecstasy as the tip of his cock rubs against your g-spot so rawly and naturally in a way that felt heavenly —your boyfriend was never able to find it.

“Yeah? You like me splitting open this pretty pussy with my cock? When was the last time you had a good fucking like this, babe?” Satoru laughed breathlessly, his cock throbbing with each thrusts.

The bed sinking as a result from his weight as he bullied his hefty cock into you—fucking you absolutely dumb, deeper into his mattress.

Your glassy eyes were now obscured by a hazy blur, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins as your eyes rolled back—Satoru thought the sight of you like this was so so beautiful. Seeing his precious little best friend whom he loveee so much getting dumbed down from his dick etched something primal in him.

His mouth gaped slightly as he moaned, his eyes full of desire and passion. He brought his face closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin before he smashed his lips onto yours.

His mouth completely devouring you as the both of you moaned in unison, lost in the intensity of the kiss—your tongues tangling together as your tummy fluttered in excitement.

His skin stuck to yours disgustingly as your boobs bounced against his chest, your fingers laced through his hair. The sensation made him groan before he eventually pulled away from the passionate kiss.

He quickly switched positions, hauling your body closer to him so your ass could slowly be arched up—resting against his thighs as he pounded your sloppy, messy cunt at the deeper angle.

A rhythmic series of “Hahhh!” fills the room—almost like a chant of pleasure escaping his lips as his gaze is fixated on where the two of you were connected—his cock completely disappearing inside your warm core at the snap of his hips as his snowy pubic hair lightly nudges against the sensitive bud of your arousal.

“This pussy is taking me in so well, fuck he could never—dunno why you were even with him–nghh! in the first place” he emphasizes on the last word with a deep, hard powerful thrust.

“I could treat ya so much better than he ever did sweetheart, better forget about him—don't ever wanna see you crying that fucker again” he smirks down at fucked out face—so cute and pretty all clumsy from his cock.

Thick balls slapping against your asshole as your slick coats both of them, forming a slippery layer that gradually dripped down onto his sheets.

“Or don't worry, heh—i’ll just fuck you into a brainless little slut, that'll surely make you forget about him” he laughs out. His tongue dragging against his lips as his fingers kneads into the soft flesh of your thighs.

Your eyes rolled back uncontrollably to his words, it was obvious to you that Satoru had a little crush on you for a while now and fucking hated your boyfriend but hearing him actually vocalizing his feelings in such a vulnerable, intimate moment made you lose your mind.

His lengthy cock dug into your pussy in such a mean manner in the new angle—his relentless thrusts hitting your cervix over and over, making your pussy overflowing with juices all over his dick, facilitating to force his dick into you.

You squealed, feeling his finger suddenly rubbing fast circles on your clit—causing your inner walls to flutter around his shaft in a euphoric response to the new wave of pleasure that surged through your body.

“Mmmfp! Yesyesyes! don't stop, s’close” you exclaimed, your fingers tightly clasping onto the sheets to anchor yourself.

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my dick baby?” He inquires with a toothy grin, his bicep muscles prominently bulging, emphasizing his toned physique as his abs flexes because of the angle. Giving you the most delicious view of his body.

“Yes! Ahh, Toruuu” Your eyebrows furrowed together as you felt your orgasm approaching. Your body trembled in ecstasy. The feeling of good sex was so so refreshing to you that you started questioning yourself why you weren’t with Satoru instead in the first place?. He was charming, rich, and funny—despite his annoying personality and teasing, he was almost perfect, but maybe because you two have been best friends for all those years, you just haven’t thought about him like that.

Before you knew it, milky white rings coated his cock—overlaying every inch of his shaft and painting his balls. “Mmmmm!” You breathe heavily, almost losing your mind as you watched Satoru’s eyes roll back at the feeling of you messing up his dick.

“Yessss, that’s it baby—God, fuck, making such a pretty mess all over me” he tried to keep his composure but he miserably failed, he just fucking couldn't, hell he couldn’t even pull out quick enough before spurting his hot cum directly into your womb, making loud squelching noises filling the room as his warm, sticky cum overflowed out of your pussy.

It was so so messy, there’s no way there wasn’t a big wet patch of cum below the two of you.

“So do ya prefer our date being tomorrow or the day after—I’d prefer tomorrow because I’m not working, plus I wanna take you out as soon as possible,” he said in a cheery, out-of-breath tone, managing to catch you off guard as if he wasn’t still balls deep inside of you.

“Seriously Satoru? We can discuss this later” you muttered with a hint of annoyance—causing him to pout in response before picking up your upper body to sit on his lap—cockwarming him.

He pulled you into a sweet, passionate kiss—his hands groping your ass as you tangled your fingers through his hair.

“Fineee” he playfully whispered—you giggled lowly, feeling his smile forming against your lips as he held you close.

[gilverrwrites]

Man, I need something with Jason's big hands, so big that one hand can cup your entire sex...

He will smack your clit, cup your sex, you'll grind on it and he will do something while cupping your lady bits.

I can live off of your body heat

Jason Todd/Reader, 2.4K

AN: I've actually had mutiple req for Jason and/or Dick slapping and pinching the readers clit which is like so specific, but I get it. Like I feel yall so much. I know Jay being a giant is fanon thing, but goddamn my 5'4 ass wants to be crushed by his hands so bad. CWs: Mentions of Jay's scars, swearing, size difference, Dom!Jay, teasing, Jay being really rough, nipple play, clit pinching, clit slapping. Petnames: Baby, babe, babygirl, good girl, Name-calling: Filthy girl, bitch, slut. Recommended listening: Body Heat - Kate Nash

There’s a scar on his chest. Actually, there are many scars on his chest. However, there’s one in particular that stands out; a long taut piece of skin that stretches from his left shoulder blade, right down to his sternum. Its pale sheen stands out against his tan skin and begs you to trail a finger along it.

Despite the temptation, you don’t.

Jason hasn’t slept this well in weeks so you daren't risk waking him yet. Instead, you watch the gentle rise and fall of his torso under the mellow light of the morning sun until the need to move is too great.

Your feet have barely touched the ground when a pair of sturdy arms close around you, enveloping you in the warmth of the very body you’d just been admiring and pulling you back into the bed. Or more, pulling you on top of his body, primarily by his choice, partially because there isn’t enough room for you both to lay without some overlap. Every time you mention buying a larger bed, Jason vetoes it; says he likes the close proximity. That feeling your body against his helps him to relax and you can’t really argue with that sentiment.

“Where’d you think you’re going?” He asks from the spot in the crook of your neck he loves to nuzzle into. He peppers the side of your neck with sleepy half-kisses.

It would be endearing, were his hands not already under the oversized Red Hood tee you’d stolen from him to sleep in.

“Oh, I don’t know.” You hum, hands wrapping around his wrists, purely for additional skin-on-skin contact. You couldn’t stop him from ghosting his calloused fingertips up your body if you wanted to. It’s strange, and arousing to think that he can, and has trapped both of your wrists in with just one hand.

“You don't know?” He’s rousing properly now, amused by your answer.

“Probably just to shower, make a coffee, maybe read a book until you wake up.”

“I’m awake now.” He reminds you, rolling his hips to emphasise his double entendre. The heat of his mourning wood grinds against your backside, and at the same time, one of his wandering hands finally settles on a target. He cups the underside of your breast, and you can’t help sucking in a breath as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Already so brutal, despite the slow, sensual way he’s been exploring until now.

You sigh in relief when he lets go, allowing just enough time for the blood to rush back before he clamps down again, this time in a twisting motion that has your hands shooting up into his hair. “Jay!”

He seems unaffected by your attack on his scalp, chuckling into the tender spot behind your ear, and causing a chill to run down your spine. “Yeah, baby?”

“You should be asleep.” You’d intended to deadpan for comedic effect, but it comes out in short, strained breaths that only serve to make you sound needy as hell.

It’s at this point you hear a snapping sound, followed by the light sting of your underwear’s elastic waist snapping against your skin, drawing your attention downwards just in time to feel Jason cupping your entire sex in just one of his hands. All the while he never stops the assault on your now raw tits.

“Do you want me to stop?” He questions. At the same time, he palms your folds through the fabric of your underwear, pressing the ball of it against your increasingly aching clit.

“Feels nice.” You sigh, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, allowing him further access to the sensitive skin of your neck which he eagerly accepts, honing in to suck and nibble, sloppily leaving marks in his wake. You don’t want to back down, but God, you do not want him to stop.

“Come on baby, I need a real answer. Do you want me to go back to sleep?” He eventually circles back, lips barely leaving your flesh as he speaks. Distracting you from the erotic sting of your nipples and the heat between your legs as his rugged fingers push all the right buttons. “Or do you want me to keep playing with your cute little pussy?”

“Fuck, Jay please- “ You’re ready to give in but as you speak he hooks two fingers under the crotch of your underwear, and the resulting, embarrassingly wet squelch that sounds out as he presses them between your folds has you hissing.

“Please what?” He goads, now upping the pressure. He’s doing it on purpose, cause he’s a fucking tease. “Please stop?”

“No! Please don’t stop touching my cunt!”

“Your cunt? You’re fucking filthy, girl. You know that?” He plants a quick, hard kiss on your cheek and, as if you weigh nothing, lifts you by your pussy, repositioning you for his own ease until your legs are stretched wide, his own wedged in between to keep you in place. The speed at which he moves is enough to give you whiplash. You barely have enough time to gasp at the retraction of his hands before they’re on you again, settling in new positions. With one hand he completely pulls aside your panties, exposing your hot, soaked folds to the tepid air. The other pulls your tee over your head before cupping the back of your head, forcing your gaze downwards. “Don’t move. I want you to watch everything I do to you. Can you do that for me, baby”

Shit. You think your heart might beat out of your chest. All this vehement energy so early in the morning. “Yes, Jay!”

Immediately contradicting yourself, you turn your head to admire his handsome profile. The determined squint of his eyes, the bed head, the morning stubble, you really lucked out with him you think as you lean closer to kiss his cheek. Before you can make contact Jay's grip tightens on the back of your head, sharply turning you back to watch as he dips two long fingers between your slit. Your clit practically twitches at the sight of them; long enough to span from top to entrance in excess.

You try your hardest to watch as he repeatedly strokes your lips in short, lazy motions but it’s a challenge not to close your eyes and get lost in the moment. It’s even harder not to throw your head back and scream when he suddenly sinks his fingers around your clit and starts pinching, it. Tightly rolling the sensitive bud between two curled fingers.

“Shit, Jay.” You pant through gritted teeth. “That hurts so good.”

Just like with your nipples, what feels even better is the rapid return of blood flow when he releases it. He repeats the process twice over, laughing every time you flinch or whine. Whispering in your ear about how you’re his “good girl”, how “you can take it” every time you dig your nails into his arm in an attempt to relieve the pain.

“Help me out here babe. Spread your pussy out for me.” He instructs, playfully gasping into your ear when you pull back your lips to reveal your now dark and swollen core. You’re too turned on to care about the sight of it. Happy to expose yourself, certain that the moment he starts kneading you with care, you’ll cum in seconds.

Jason must be thinking the same as he dips one finger into your entrance, just enough to coat it with your arousal before returning to your puffy clit to rub around it in circles. Even at twice the size, your clit is smaller than the tip of his finger.

“Ohh, I’m gonna cum soon.” Before you’ve even finished your sentence Jay retracts his hand, ripping a distraught weep from you in the process. You’ve been here a hundred times before, splayed out for him, gasping, and begging for his touch, but the red-hot shame at your flagrant desperation never eases. “What the fuck, dude!?”

“Dude?” Without warning, Jay comes back down. Hard. Your whole body shakes under the intensity of the vicious slap he delivers to your clit. “Who the fuck are you calling dude?”

He doesn’t give you enough time to answer before he smacks your open folds again. Flipping the switch in your body from heady to adrenaline-filled arousal.

“Say my name.” He barks as he dispenses a third slap.

“Jay!” You don’t have it in you to say his full name, but it seems to satisfy.

“Say it louder.” His words are punctuated by the lewd echo of sharp, stinging strikes. “I want the neighbours to hear what a dirty fucking slut you are. Want them to know who you belong to.”   

“Jason. You Jason!” You close your eyes and throw your head back, crying with everything you can muster, not caring how raunchy or pathetic you sound. Ignoring the pain of your own nails digging into your flesh. “Jason. I’m yours, Jason.”

“That's better.” He growls. Finally, his arm falls slack. With no friction from your dripping, wanting walls, Jason glides two fingers into your entrance and you tremble, your whole body tingling, ecstatic to finally feel him inside you. It’s just two fingers, two impressively strong, thick fingers that make you feel so full. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

Abashed by his sudden gentleness you open your eyes once more, positioning yourself to look at him as best you can. He’s one to talk. You’re always telling him he could be a model if he decided to quit being a part-time crime lord, part-time crime fighter.  

You’re unable to concentrate on him for long, however, as he starts pumping in and out of you in torturously slow thrusts. After all the excitement, it quietens your mind and eases your muscles. For the first time since he’d repositioned your bodies, you notice the pressure of his cock, pulsing against your lower back. The rigged hardness of it makes you feel fuzzy and content at his equal levels of arousal.

You stay like that for a few minutes, simply enjoying the calm as Jason gently massages your insides until it’s not enough. You need more, your body yearns, your core practically twitching for his touch on your clit again. An orgasm is approaching steadily, but you’ll get nowhere without it.

The heel of his hand is so close, so sturdy, you don’t even think about what you’re doing, you just start undulating your hips, rutting up against him in unstable motions. He doesn’t stop you; in fact he curls his fingers and brings his palm down closer, letting you use him to chase your orgasm.

“That's it, baby. Hump me like a bitch in heat.” He coos so softly in your ear that it would set your pulse racing if it wasn’t already running at a mile a minute. “Remember I'm the only who does this for you, the only one who can make you feel so full and cock drunk on just my hands.”

He's right, he's so fucking right.

“Keep that up, I might just cum too.”

“Fuck me.” You breathe, affected both by his words and the reminder of his throbbing dick squeezed between your bodies.

“Not until you cum on my fingers.” He’s only half joking. “Can you do that for me baby, cum all over my finger like a good little slut?”

Fuck yes, you can. You want to say, but all your energy is focused on riding his hand, fucking yourself on his brawny fingers, and gyrating against his palm like it's your job. His groans and rasps become a motivational mantra as you keep bucking your hips.

“You’re nearly there.” He comments, able to feel your walls tightening around his digits, convulsing uncontrollably as it hits you. It takes all your strength to ride it out; to keep going as you topple over the edge but fuck it’s worth it for the full extent of your release. “That it babygirl, cum for me baby, fucking soak me.”

Worth it for the explicit sound of your wet cum streaming against Jason’s hands, for the rush of ecstasy that bleeds through your body, and especially for the unexpected heat that spreads across your lower back in spaced-out intervals; Jason's own ejaculation seeping through his boxers and dispersing on your skin.         

Simultaneously, you both grow limp, breathing in time with each other until the rapid movements of your chests begin to ebb back to a steady pace.

“You were so good for me, I’m so proud of you.” Jason praises as he rolls your bodies onto their sides, never releasing you in the process, but allowing him a better ability to press a smattering of kisses to the side of your head, lingering along your jawline. You're grateful for his sweet words, but still too fucked-out to speak, but you coo when he lifts a hand to run his thumb along your neck, presumably checking out his earlier handy work. You arch to get a better look at him, and given the subtle, but smug smile on his face, you’re certain he’s left quite the mark.   

“Let me guess.” You find your voice. “It’s not just the neighbours who’ll know who I belong to?”

“Hmmmm.” He tilts his head and puckers his lips in mock consideration. “I think you should donate all your scarf.”

“Jay!” You punch his shoulder, and he has enough decency to play along, briefly leaning back as though you could even make a dent on his towering frame. “Is it really bad?”

“No. No no no.” He’s lying through his teeth, snickering as he leans in to crush your lips with his own. His skin is slick with sweat you realise when you reach up to gently grasp his other shoulder and guide him closer to you. His morning breath is frankly kind of gross, but yours probably is too. Nevertheless, it’s a price you’re willing to pay for his affection.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks when he pulls back from your mouth, continuing to press kisses down your neck, along your collar, and slinking closer to your chest with each brush. He asks some variation of this same question everytime you fuck. Letting you direct how much you can take from him in one go or what kind of aftercare you need.

“I don’t know.” You hum, imitating your earlier indecision, as you stretch against the mattress. “Shower, coffee, and a book still sounds good to me.”

“Sounds very good. Mind if I join?” He’s not actually asking, that much is evident as he lifts you in his arms and cradles you against his chest as he stands. You’ll both be grateful to get your sticky, cum soaked underwear off. You’ll be even more grateful for the chance to lather and massage your boyfriend up in soapy bubbles, to really get your fingers on those pretty scars that call to you. Maybe you can convince him to take a nap later when you’re curled up on the couch, reading together.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Jay.”

[alchemistc]

Donato spots it first - Tommy's been fidgeting with the just-too-short sleeves of his shirt for the past ten minutes, fingers curling into the ends of the arms, thumb sliding along the hem like maybe he could make them long enough to fully cover his wrists just by thinking really hard about it. It's stretched tight across his shoulders, the neck hole feels too high, biting into his skin, and Tommy is absolutely certain it's been hemmed in at the fucking waist, because he can barely keep the damn thing tucked into his pants.

(The cost of having those fucking magnificent gazelle legs is apparently torso space.)

"You shrink your shirt in the wash again, Kinard?"

Tommy's been begging their vendor to switch to a jersey blend for years because 100% cotton undershirts are a goddamn bitch and a half to maintain.

Tommy thinks about ignoring the question entirely. They've been razzing him for weeks about the way every single smile line in his face has been putting in overtime lately.

And then she gets a closer look at it. The merch is usually the same cross-department, but every once in a while some probie will get stuck with the task of ordering a few extras to have as backups around the station and they'll go a little too hard on customization. Like, for example, the one he'd picked off the top of his clean laundry basket without looking in his rush out the door this morning.

Lucy's eyes narrow. She reaches forward, pinches the 118 emblem blazing across the breadth of his shoulder, takes in the color and sturdiness of a shirt he definitely can't play off as being old enough to have been from his own time at the One Eighteen.

Donato grimaces so mockingly Tommy nearly warns her that her face'll get stuck like that. "Christ, Kinard, how fucking domestic are you two?"

(Three days off together after a week of getting by with random texts, their schedules nearly opposite, and when Evan had stared at his overnight bag on day two and realized he didn't have any spare undershirts he'd pouted up a storm about the fact that if he had to go back to his place it didn't make a lick of sense to turn right back around to Tommy's, so Tommy had just thrown Evan's dirty undershirt in with the rest of his own laundry. And then prompted Evan to throw all his other stuff in the wash too. Halfway across the city, Evan is definitely rolling too-long sleeves over his palm with the tips of his fingers and Tommy does not have time to think about how much he likes the idea of that )

"He doesn't even know my how I take my coffee," Tommy snipes, like that avoids the question, and across the locker room Johnson slams his locker shut with a snort.

"Because you've been using his increasingly more desperate attempts to figure it out as some weird intricate mating ritual for three months now."

"It's about --."

"--the journey, not the destination," they both interrupt, eyes rolling, and Tommy doesn't bother to try to hide the grin in his face.

"He just wants to get it right so bad."

Donato's face is unimpressed. "Ugh. Can you please stop being so smitten right in front of me? I'm gonna throw up."

Tommy leans in for the kill. "Your wife ever buy you flowers, Johnson? Because I've been trying to decide how much thought went into the arrangement he brought me on Saturday, and I figure -." He dodges the palm Johnson extends towards his face with a bark of bright laughter.

---

Evan 2:15 PM

Boyfriend privileges are a SCAM

Evan 2:15 PM

Why is YOUR NAME on the back of this shirt? There's no way that's standard

Evan 2:16 PM

Chimney's being homophobic

Evan 2:19 PM

Nvm Gerrard saw it and now I'm just sad he didn't actually have a heart attack about it

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, yandere, monster au, orc x elf!reader, huge size difference

fem reader

Orc Master – who makes his pretty collared elf-pet lick and kiss his heavy balls because his cock won’t fit in her mouth…

They’re the size of grapefruits – bigger than your tits, nearly bigger than your head, and you can only suck a small spot at a time – smacking off the warm weights with a lewd pop before suckling another place just shy of it.

He strokes his cock above you – pearls of pre, more like marbles, trickle down the spine of it before dripping onto your face and chest.

His other hand cradles the entirety of your skull, holding a fat thumb on your brow – angling your head to look past the thick structure shadowing you up into his hooded eyes filled with carnal heat, leering at your pretty face smothered in his sack, begging for what’s kept inside them, warm and ready to flood your guts and breed you full.

His brawny legs are taller than you as you kneel between them – feeling like a beggar praying to a god. His foot, larger than your leg – and his big toe, the size of your fist. Making the whole ground shake when he stomps it down next to you – wordlessly encouraging you to be more eager. 

He's always glossy with old and new sweat – layered thickly and sticky on his tough skin, along with red and brown flecks of blood and mud – highlighting every fat muscle as though carved in metal. Broad shoulders swole with brute strength – even his neck is buff with it, thicker than your thighs – looking proud and toppling as he looms above you. 

His words are few but weighty, grunting out, “Tongue.” Appeased when you listen and stick the pink thing inside his dickhole. Endearment in his voice, purring out “good bitch…” and softly calling you his “tiny elf-whore,” while petting your hair – steering your little head up and down his tall shaft, letting your mouth catch all the spilled mess frothing from his leaky tip.

The muscles in his thighs flex while you suck along his thick veins, pulsing where they fork along the tall tower. You have to gulp when you think about how massive it is – you can’t even reach around it when using both your hands – and you have no sound understanding of how it even fits inside you at all.

When he sucks your tits, he’ll take half of them inside his warm mouth – nomming on them while he stretches your hole with one finger after the other. 

His digits are the size of a male elf’s manhood – you can’t reach fully around one with your hand – and he’s got three of them pumping your tiny elven cunt – prepping you for his much meatier orc-cock.

You’re held easily on his lap, seated sideways and pretty. His drool runs down your chest and belly, and you’re soaked in your own sweat after cumming for the umpteenth time. Still, you squirm when he finally dabs your puffy cunt with the sturdy meat. When it stands between your thighs, the plush cockhead reaches high enough to get cozy between your breasts, and you can already feel it punching your ribs and rearranging your organs.

You always break, trying to fling yourself off and run away despite the collar sitting around your throat with a chain trail leading to the bed.

You’re never able to get out of his grip anyway. He pulls your hair back, making your head hang backward, chest arched up – it’s an awful position, leaving you no option but to thrash – unable to see what’s going on or how to prepare for it.

He picks up your thigh and holds you up in the air by it alone, using you like a ragdoll as he spreads you wide. Huffing out impatient grunts at the numerous failed attempts of pressing his raging cock-head inside you, always slipping through your slit and rubbing off on your clit. He grows angry rather quickly, growling until your hole finally gets sloppy enough to allow the very tip to find footing – just enough to let him knead the entire bulb inside you and slowly sink inch after fat inch all the way up until you choke on it.

Stuffed so fair-tight with a big bulge in your poor belly. You squeeze on it with a cry – your whole body reacting to it, contorting while it settles deep within you. Knees lifting and bending with thighs winding shut, curled toes, and fingers making tight fists.

He’s kind enough to let you roost on it for a bit before moving.

Standing up, he lays your back against the plush bed, still warm from where he’d just been sitting – and wraps a hand around both your ankles, holding them up – placing the other on the dome of your ass, hooking a thumb over your hipbone.

Most of you is still in the air – making so much blood pool in your head. Going dizzy and breathless once he sets the pace, dragging himself out of your tight walls – beyond content feeling your tight cunt squeeze on him as though begging him to stay inside.

You make the cutest sounds – makes his balls clamp up as they swing and softly clap against your back while he slowly lolls his entire length back inside your warmth.

Once your hole surrenders more to his size, he’ll lay your legs to rest against his chest and mirror the placement of his other hand – both now grabbing each of your buttcheeks – starting to fuck your womb tightly.

He loves elven pussy – especially yours – so sweet and juicy, cumming on him every few minutes – milking him for his cream.

You get a fever once he finally cums – pumping it all inside you, unloading for a full minute or two, leaving you gasping and panting with broken moans cut with cries – feeling it seep out around the edges of where he has you stuffed, running down your ass and spine, dribbling down his balls and hitting the floor in fat drops that give a sounding thud.

He waits until his cock is sluggish before sloshing out. 

Everything is a sticky mess, but he cares little for cleaning up – staggering over the bed and immediately falling into a snoring sleep with you tucked under his heavy arm.

After all, he has to make sure everyone knows who you belong to – not only by keeping you collared with his crest but by making sure you smell ripely so – scented from head to toe with his jizz and urine.

BNHA – Enji, Bakugou, Kirishima, Deku, Muscular, Gigantomachia

JJK – Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Kenjaku

AOT – Erwin, Reiner, Zeke

HxH – Uvogin

[jen-with-a-pen]

(In Your) Arms Tonight - 2/2

summary: Wade tests out his previous hypothesis with great success. Might experiment more later.

pairing: Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson / Worst Wolverine x Deadpool

word count: 3.6k

warnings: MDNI 18+, Wade's POV-ish, blowjob, itty bitty blood mention, slight angst, nightmares/PTSD, pining, cursing, claws, crude humor and language, fluff, touching, *cue start of something new from high school musical*, Wade's a little shit, cum drinking bc i guess that's what happened, deepthroating, lowkey face fucking, bad flirting but it's kinda reciprocated, wade is the throat goat next question, wade kissed his roommate and they both liked it

a/n: here she is :') thanks yall for the patience and all of the magnificent love and comments for part one ❤❤❤ means the world to me, especially since it's my first time stepping out of stucky territory as a whole. also got a little away with the tags 😅 hope yall enjoy this !

Not beta'd. Half-written on my phone, edited and revised in ellipsus + gdocs. Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes!

If I've missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @tomshiddles | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ❤️

My AO3 | My Masterlist

Read this fic HERE on AO3

❤️ Reblogs and comments are appreciated, as always ❤️

PART ONE | PART TWO

Wade forgot to turn the AC back on. 

It's his turn to sleep in bed tonight and he's got the worst case of swamp ass you can get this far from a fucking swamp. He's already thrown the covers, sheets, pillows, and his boxers off; he swears if he gets up there will be a sweaty version of a goddamn chalk outline on his mattress. 

He stretches. Notices he can feel both hands now, fully grown and everything, fingernails and all. Smirks to himself as he flexes his new fingers before reaching over to the nightstand– it's actually a really sturdy cardboard box, but it works just as good– for his phone. The screen responds with a bright 3:02AM overlayed on a photo of him and Vanessa. 

There's a pang in his heart for a moment. The same type of twist and pull he felt when Logan got up to leave after their big adventure (AKA saving their universe.)

“See you around?”

Wade tried to swallow the hard lump of desperate hope that had been bubbling inside of him the entire time they ate their shawarma. Hopes it wasn't obvious in his voice. Not a total cry for help, but definitely more of a solemn whimper and puppy dog eyes.

No matter how many times he was used to it– the people he loved leaving or dying or what have you– it still stung like a bitch. 

“Probably not.”

And Logan didn't mean for it to come out so harshly, but that's what happened when– and if– he got too close. To anyone. To everyone. 

With that, Logan rose from the bench, gathering his cowl and TVA jacket up from the place on the bench separating him and Wade and started walking. Dogpool whined and scratched at Wade's arms to chase after him. 

Wade had to do something. Anything. He couldn't let this one– this Logan. His Logan– walk off into the sunset.

No.

Not without him. 

“Logan!” 

And then he turned around. 

And now they're here. 

He feels a similar yank and tear elsewhere in his body– lower belly, groin area– whenever thoughts wander back to that glorious time in the Honda Odyssey; Adamantium stabbing in and out of his chest cavity, puncturing his lungs and literally taking his breath away. The tight feeling of multiple seat belts holding him down to the second row passenger seat and the sickeningly happy grin adorning Logan's face when he tied the last knot. Wade remembers smiling just as bright under his mask.

That one definitely got filed into ye ole spank bank for safe keeping.

Sighing, Wade remembers he's sweating like a hog and drops his legs over the edge, planting two clammy feet onto the creaky floorboards. He throws on his previously discarded pair of boxers just in case Logan has a case of insomnia. Gotta take a man out to dinner before you show him your dick, like a gentleman. 

Wade peaks his head out into the living room, TV glow assaulting his pupils like a flash bang. The door creaks open wider and Wade steps further out. He doesn't want to wake either furball– you'd be surprised how grumpy Dogpool gets when she doesn't get her beauty sleep– as he tiptoes out in front of the couch. 

His breath catches in his chest. 

Logan lies propped up on the couch, head resting on the arm with a throw pillow behind for support, arms crossed over a bare, hairy chest rising and falling slowly. A sheen of sweat coats his skin that reflects the changing colors of the TV. Half a snuffed cigar smolders on the coffee table ashtray. The semi-permanent crease between his brows is softer, perfect pink lips parted as he snores quietly.

And to top it all off, he's in his fucking boxers; his jeans are discarded on the opposite end of the couch, kicked off in his sleep to beat the heat.

Wade can't breathe. He can't help but stare, committing the heavenly scene to memory. A knowing smile slowly spreads across his chapped lips.

He's happy. Happy at how peaceful his roommate looks. Happy that Logan is finally feeling safe enough to sleep here. Genuinely. Wade knows first hand what it can be like to be constantly on the run, chasing peace and release, rest and safety. 

Tip toes make way to the thermostat, Wade presses the 'on' button to the AC when there's stirring behind him. Head turning slowly, he catches the tail end of Logan mumbling something in his sleep. 

“...Wade, please.” 

Wade freezes like a carjacker caught in an impound lot. Surely he didn't hear Logan, his roommate Logan– The X-Man, The Wolverine– fucking whining Wade's name in his sleep. 

What were the symptoms of heat stroke, again? 

Wade shuffles back over to the couch. Feels like a creep watching his fucking roommate sleep, waiting another moment to see if he needs to take a power drill and give himself a DIY lobotomy or not. 

“Mm… No, Wade…No, please, don't–” Logan murmurs softly. Struggling, brow furrowing, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Ngh… Don't hurt ‘im… please.” 

Logan begins to shake. His head whips from side to side against the pillow, hands dig into the couch cushions, grunting, fists clenching as his claws itch to defend from the phantom threat. Muscles tensing and chest heaving, his breathing grows harder, faster, more frantic. 

He's having a nightmare.

Wade recognizes the signs immediately. He knows where Logan's at: some distant memory with talons and sharp teeth assaulting his brain without him knowing. Hell on earth on the worst nights, a light ego beating and insomnia on the better ones.

Wade knows– his stopped two months ago. When Logan came home.

Without another thought– one in which he probably should’ve given– Wade climbs onto the couch to straddle Logan’s hips in the most non-horny way he can make it. Hands press into the center of Logan's chest. He gently calls his name, preparing for the sharp stab of Adamantium through an appendage and/or organ. Nothing he isn't used to at this point, but he secretly prays it isn't something totally major.

“Logan. Peanut, hey,” Wade whispers. He presses further into Logan, heat radiating off rough, hairy skin into Wade's tingling fingers. “Logan, it's me, Wade. You're having a nightmare, you’re scaring the kids–” 

SHNK. Intestines. Ten or fifteen points, depending on if it's big or small.  Wade's thankful it wasn't a kidney or his stomach– those are a bitch and a half to grow back.

“Okay– that was maybe warranted,” Wade grunts. Both sets of claws penetrate straight through his lower abdomen as Logan jolts awake, sitting up as much as he can while pinned under Wade. A gnarled scream catches in his throat. White-hot knuckles graze the skin of Wade's stomach, who is really, really trying his hardest not to get a boner right now. 

“Th’fuck's goin’ on?” Logan slurs, face inches from Wade's bare chest. He blinks. Once. Twice. His brow returns to its permanent crease as he adjusts to the scene before him: bright TV glow contrasts with dark shadows Wade casts over him.

Wade is on top of him and his claws are inside of Wade.

Face scrunching– not inherently in disgust, Wade hopes– claws retract with a muted grunt. Wade can breathe again while his body begins repairing itself. His hands are stuck to Logan's heaving chest, fingers fanning out over each delicious pec. Thick arms rest on either side of him, elbows bent and resting on Wade's thighs.

Wade swallows, praying the man currently underneath him either A. doesn't know where his hands are at the moment or B. this is going exactly the way he wet-dreamt it a few weeks ago. Completely unprompted too, by the way– he's no stranger to the sick side effects of PTSD, he wouldn't knowingly exploit that in order to get into his roommate's pants. He's got more class than that.

Well, most of the time, that is. Again, completely unintentional. Coincidence, if you will.

Maybe he does need that DIY lobotomy.

"Where th'hell am I?" Logan asks, voice less threatening and more alert. His eyes flick from the TV and travel up Wade to meet sympathetic chocolate eyes already on him. Wade peels each finger off Logan's chest and sits back on his knees. Gaze softening, hands fall into his lap inches above the chiseled V pointing to down under Logan's boxers. He doesn't dare move a fucking muscle.

His pinky finger twitches.

"You're okay. You're here, in my world, Peanut. Twenty-first century. New York. We use fifty-cals now, not muskets. You were having a nightmare–"

Wade's throat hitches. He's not gonna cry, no– he's not that much of a fucking empath, for chrissake– but what he wants to say versus what he probably should say get lodged together on the way down to his mouth from his brain.

"I– I did the pressure thing Dogpool does with me, sometimes. Except I thought you'd wanna wake up to this pretty face 'nd not one with drool."

Logan looks skeptical, searches Wade to see if he's actually telling the truth for once, features relaxing once he mulls it over in his head. Wade's gnawing at the inside of his cheek when Logan's thumbs subconsciously start rubbing slow circles over the toughened skin of his upper thigh. Upper-outer, to be exact, but right now Wade doesn't really want to dwell on the minute details.

"So," Logan starts, "you woke me up… 'cause I was havin' a nightmare…?"

"Well, not exactly because you were having a nightmare, no." Wade runs a hand over the top of the couch, distracting himself. "Al really likes this couch. Antique, actually. Vintage find. Be a shame if some man with claws–"

Logan's palms press into Wade's thighs. A warning.

"Mouth."

Wade sighs. Hands fall into his lap once more and he is absolutely not fighting to gawk at Logan's V that lights up like a road work sign pointing to a detour. The semi-hard abs just above definitely do not make him want to run his fucking tongue across them like a cheese grater.

He looks back to Logan, clears his throat. "Look I– I've been there. Am there, honestly. Didn't want you t'be alone whenever you woke up, but I also know how hard it is to wake up. So," he shrugs, voice lowering, "thought I'd help. Help you come down from it, I mean."

Logan stares back in response, eyes trained on Wade like a hunting dog and a downed fox. Wade swears the corner of his lip twitches along with the meaty hands on his legs.

He's gotta get the fuck out of here.

"So!" Wade starts, "Seems everything's in working order. The doctor will be in soon–" Wade starts to scramble off before realizing Logan's holding him down. Sharp claw stubs poke into scarred skin and a deep growl rumbles out of Logan's chest. Not necessarily threatening, no, more of a 'you're not goin' anywhere.' Wade gulps, hands raise up jokingly, forcing his racing mind to think of a naked, cross-country skiing Al to stave off the blood violently rushing to his stubborn cock.

Logan sits up, closing the space between him and Wade. Hazel eyes study wide brown ones. Logan takes a breath, shaky but sure.

"Don't want y't'go. Not– not yet."

It's hesitant. Unsure but curious, quiet enough Wade thinks he's hallucinating again. Wade mulls it over, leans forward with hands back on Logan's chest, skin and muscles taught underneath with tactile tension.

Wade sucks in a breath, moves his hands higher to Logan's collarbone and it's grossly apparent how tense Logan is. Hostile to any sudden movement, untrusting of touch to the point his fists shake against Wade's legs. A slow, tender hand inches up Logan's throat and onto his cheek. Wade feels through the rough facial hair and unkempt stubble, a thumb finds the shaved spot at the point of Logan's chin and strokes gently. Fists start to unclench, but there's a hesitancy still lingering in the air, under Logan's skin. Wade thinks it smells like fear. Inches away, face to face, breaths fan eachother's faces.

There's a shift in the air and Wade leans forward.

Logan doesn't stop Wade from connecting them together, lips touching lips in the softest manner possible. Almost feels like there's nothing there, Wade's too gentle. Nobody moves, breathes, at first; they're each trying to make sense of what the fuck exactly is happening. Logan isn't saying no, isn't sawing through Wade's skull and Wade isn't pushing himself on Logan.

Okay, maybe leaning in to kiss his roommate might be pushing himself on Logan to the logical bystander, but in the moment it just felt right.

To Wade's surprise, Logan's the first to move.

His lips start molding into Wade's. There's pressure, a little pushing, chapped skin and the remnants of tobacco on his breath when his lips part and his tongue pokes ever-so-slightly through. Wade pushes back, hoping his breath isn't as abhorrently delicious as leftover cigar. He tilts his head, nose poking into Logan's cheek as his does Wade's, and lets his tongue explore a little more. Logan allows him in, meeting him at the tip and hungrily welcoming him. Breaths turn heavy, panting, while hands begin to roam, more comfortable now that they've crossed the line into 'spit swapping' territory.

Wade drinks him in. Greedily swallows the choked-back groans Logan keeps holding in his throat that come out as muted mewls. Fingernails wantonly dig into one another and leave temporary marks that disappear under rapid replacement cells.

It feels like forever when Wade finally comes up for air, unable to focus with the growing hardness digging into his thigh.

"I–fuckin' shit– I think I have an idea." Wade pants like a dog in heat– and fuck, he might as well be at this point. Logan pulls back with lidded eyes and kiss-swollen lips.

"'s that?" He's hesitant. Hands tense slightly over Wade's back, his whole body stiffens.

"Do you– do you trust me?"

Wade holds his breath.

Logan only nods. Adam's apple bobbing, lips part in anticipation and curiosity.

Wade strokes Logan's cheek in reassurance, shoots him a wink before shimmying down his body to the other end of the couch, keeping Logan's legs in between his thighs. Fingers hook around Logan's boxers, in turn causing Logan to jolt up immediately. A set of claws unsheathe an inch away from Wade's throat.

"Th'fuck are you doin'?"

Wade only smiles, taking a hand away and kissing the tip of the middle claw, gently pushing it back into Logan's fist and coaxing him to lay back down. What he's about to do would be easier with an in-tact esophagus.

"Relax, Peanut," Wade coos, "'m not gonna hurtcha."

Logan stares at Wade. Eyes pinch, still suspicious.

"…Promise?"

A sharp pang ripples through Wade's heart.

"Promise."

Logan hesitates, relaxes, gives another go-ahead. Wade's fingers curl once again around the waistband of his boxers and slowly, but surely, pull them down and off him. He can't help the immediate salivatory reflex upon seeing Logan in all his glory; the deep V lights up like a fucking Vegas sign pointing straight to the jackpot.

Logan's big– like, big big. Biggest Wade's ever seen (and Wade's seen a LOT.) An automatic response, Wade's asshole clenches, mistakenly preparing to take Logan. Wade forces himself to relax– that's not happening tonight. He promised Logan he'd go slow, no surprises, no whipped cream or leather cuffs.

Not yet, at least.

His own cock weeps happy tears through his briefs. He cannot believe how perfect– how beautiful– how fucking huge Logan is.

"What're you gonna do?" Logan whispers, hesitant eyes hooking on Wade and every little movement he makes.

"If it's alright with you, 1972 Burt Reynolds, 'm gonna suck every ounce of tension out of your perfect, hairy body and make you feel the best you've felt in a looong time."

Logan scoffs a laugh, brow furrowing as he shakes his head slightly. "Don't know who–"

Wade shushes him. "Don't worry, baby girl. I'll be your Sally Field."

Wade smirks at Logan's confusion and mentally makes a note to his future-self to show Logan the glory that is Smokey and the Bandit.

A gentle hand steadies the base of Logan's cock while another slowly wraps around his stiffness, standing at attention and beginning to cry, begging for Wade's touch. Heavy breathing and bitten-back grunts fill Wade's ears. It's a heavenly symphony he's lucky enough to have a front and center seat for. Free ticket, too.

"Ngh– Red, whatever you're gonna do– ah–!"

Wade presses his lips to the base, bush of hair tickling his nose and lips while he kisses his way up to the head, tongue poking out to lap up the precum. Before siccing his lips around Logan, Wade looks up once more, mostly searching for permission to help him feel pleasure for once instead of pain.

Logan reads Wade's mind and sends a small nod in response.

With a shit-eating smirk, Wade welcomes Logan into his mouth, flattening his tongue and curving his lips over his teeth so as not to scratch the sensitive, velvety skin. Drool spills out the corners of Wade's mouth and swallows a gag when Logan jams into the back of his throat, digging into his uvula. Squeezing the base and cupping the balls, Wade begins to bob his head to the rhythm of Logan's mess of 'fuck's, 'shit's, and–

"Mmm–Oh–oh, my god," Logan moans. A calloused hand runs over Wade's bald head, scars and grafts rippling under his touch while another hand grips tightly onto the side of the couch. Wade slurps up every drop of precum, relishing in the sweet musk of Logan's scent, head bobbing and tongue swirling in tandem. Logan's hips buck up into Wade, fucking his throat without meaning to. No amount of lozenges or peppermint tea will be able to cure the sore throat Wade knows he'll have come morning.

"F–fuck, Wade, baby– shit– that feels so–!"

Another lengthy dive down onto Logan hits the very back of Wade's throat, pulling a long, strenuous 'fuck' from the deepest part of Logan. He bucks harder into Wade who stalls, choking on Logan's cock while his own strains against his briefs. Another swipe of tongue, another gag and seeping drool, and Logan is officially done for.

"F–fuck! Motherfucker! Oh my, god, Wade–!"

Curses and chants and shaky breaths fill the living room as Logan spills into Wade with an 'O' on his lips and a hand on the back of Wade's head. There's a sharp shngk and a sting at the tip of Wade's ear as red warmth drips down onto Logan's thigh; his claws unsheathe into the couch this time, not Wade, who slurps and sucks every last drop of mutant cum from Logan's softening cock like it's the Fountain of fucking Eden.

He comes up for air, finally, lungs gasping against a swollen, fucked throat. He sits back panting on his thighs and Logan's legs underneath, a mix of cum and drool and the slightest bit of blood running down his cheeks and neck. Wiping away the mess with the back of a hand, blurry vision focuses back into reality and onto his roommate.

His roommate. Logan. Wolverine. Who's dick he just sucked the ever-living hell out of.

Well this is awkward.

Wade swallows, offers a crooked half-smile to the man who he just sucked, fucked, and milked dry.

"How 'bout them Yankees?"

Logan barks a laugh. A real, genuine laugh, one with teeth and spread lips and legitimate amusement. Wade preens.

"That was–" Logan wipes beads of sweat off his brow, "Fuck it. That was fuckin' amazing, Wade." He stuffs a hand behind his head, blinks a couple of times to recalibrate. "Didn't know that mouth did anything else 'sides talk."

Wade shrugs cutesily. "It impresses me sometimes, too. Helps when I have a willing participant. Just hope you signed the paperwork."

Logan shakes his head. Arms reach up to grab onto Wade, pulling an ear to Logan's lips.

"Now how 'bout we take care of you next, baby? Hm?"

\|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/

Morning sun and a weight on his chests wakes Logan from probably the most peaceful sleep he's had in… well, ever, honestly.

There's a wetness and mix of smells wafting into his nostrils that make him stir next; combination of what feels like a tongue on his cheek making way towards his lips, dog breath, and the sweet smell of something cooking in the kitchen. Eyes fly open when a whine vibrates on his chest, finding himself greeted by Dogpool wagging her rat-tail with eyes bugging out of her little head.

"Gah– get off me, mutt," Logan scolds, sitting up and gently shoving Dogpool onto the couch cushion next to him. He runs a hand over his face and into his hair, the crick in his neck a little less noticeable this morning.

"Gooooood morning, sunshine!"

Logan looks up with tired eyes still adjusting to the morning light to find Wade in his robe covered in flour with a mixing bowl cradled in his arm as he stirs. Last night comes screeching back to Logan as soon as he locks eyes with his roommate, mouth going dry and dick twitching in his boxers.

Wade only smiles, not at all hiding his obvious glance at Logan's crotch. "You want chocolate chips or blueberries in yours?"

Logan shakes his head. "In my what?"

"Pancakes, Peanut. In your pancakes."

"Oh. Yeah." Logan blinks, then scoffs a laugh to himself. "Yeah, Mouth. I'd, ah– blueberries. I'd like blueberries."

[megalony]

One In A Million

This is an Evan Buckley imagine that I had an idea for, I hope you all like it. Any feedback would be lovely. I am trying to work my way through requests and trying to branch out into writing for Bobby too.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17 @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: While out on a call, Evan manages the unthinkable to save a girl. And afterwards, he can't seem to get her out his head.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"LAFD, ma'am we're coming in."

The team followed after Bobby into the apartment, letting their captain lead the way through the living room and ahead towards the balcony on the far side of the room.

They had been apprehensive when this call came through the radio. A young woman was hanging onto a sign on the side of an apartment building. She had fallen off the balcony. They all knew this was going to be a tricky one to get the woman back to safety.

"Chim, set up the winch, Eddie get a harness on. That balcony isn't safe we're not taking any chances." Bobby shook his head to himself when he stepped cautiously out onto the balcony.

Dispatch told them a woman had fallen off her balcony, not that she had fallen through it. The rail had broken. She must have been leaning on the rail when it gave way and she had fallen down. It was lucky that she had managed to fall onto an advertising sign, but it wasn't ideal. They didn't know how sturdy the sign was or if it would be able to hold her for long.

Bobby walked over to the right side of the balcony and leaned over the side without touching the rail, just to be safe. "Ma'am, LAFD here. We're going to get you off there, how are you doing down there?"

"H-help!" (Y/n) tried to tilt her head back but looking up made her feel dizzy and sent her head spinning.

Her arms were trembling from how tense they were. She had landed with a thud on the metal beam supporting the advertising board. It had been a stroke of luck that when she fell, she managed to curl her arms around the beam before she slid off.

She had her legs dangling down in the air, weighing her down as gravity had a tight hold over her lower waist. Her fingers were starting to cut into the metal and her arms felt like they were being shredded to pieces. But she had no choice. If she loosened her arms or let go for a second, she would fall. If she fell, that would be it. Nothing was going to save (Y/n) from that long drop down to the harsh pavement below.

How had this even happened? How was her balcony rail so fragile and unsafe that leaning her hips onto it to water the hanging baskets had broken it? One moment she was trying to water the plants, then she was suddenly falling face-first down towards the sign.

(Y/n) wasn't sure who called the emergency services but she owed them a debt for calling and getting the fire department down here so fast.

"We're going to get you, don't worry just try and stay calm while we get someone down to you."

"I-it's moving," Tears continued to stream down (Y/n)'s face and she pressed her chin into her arm rather than risk trying to look up above her again.

When Bobby realised what she was referring to, he bit his lip and turned to face the team. Chimney was still setting up the winch to get Eddie hooked up who was putting on his hard-hat and trying to shimmy into a harness as as fast as he could.

"Alright, Buck, Hen I want you to go down a few levels, get into any apartment you can and look at that advertising sign and let us know if it's going to hold out or not."

"Copy."

Evan nodded and followed after Hen, bustling out the apartment and back down the stairwell they had just run up with all their equipment. They didn't like the look of this. They had no time to try and get an airbag set up on the ground and with how high up they were, it wouldn't be safe to set it up either. But if that poor girl fell, she wouldn't survive the crash landing.

They went down five floors and found an apartment directly beneath the one they had just been in. They had to stay on the East side of the building so they could see the woman and the sign she had fallen onto.

"Good morning, we're LAFD. Can we go take a look out your window please?" Evan put the brightest smile on his face that he could muster and stood tall when the elderly woman opened the door. The surprise and panic was evident in her eyes. She hadn't called the fire department. She didn't need any emergency assistance.

But the moment she nodded, Evan rushed past her and made a beeline for her window while Hen told her what was going on.

"Eddie's getting hooked up to climb over, are you two downstairs?"

"We're five floors down… that sign doesn't look good Cap, I don't know how long it will hold out."

Evan opened the window and peered out but his upper lip curled in distaste when he looked up. The sign wasn't supposed to hold any weight. It was bolted onto the side of the building, but it was lightweight metal beams and a thin metal frame. It wasn't there to hold up someone's weight and when the woman was dangling in mid-air like that, she was weighing down even more on the frame.

Reaching his hand up, Evan nudged his hard-hat further back on his head so he could keep looking up. His lower abdomen and hips pressed bruisingly into the window frame and his hands gripped the open edge of the window to steady himself. Evan wouldn't want to join the woman and hang out the window or fall down.

He could see Eddie leaning over the edge of the balcony as he tried to hurry and get rigged up to the harness and winch. The plan was to lower Eddie down, let him get a harness around the woman and winch them both back up to her balcony. At least if they got the harness or some rope around her she would have a safety net of some kind.

"We gotta do something… it's gonna break." Evan peered back inside to look over at Hen but he could see the anguish in her eyes.

What could they do? What did Evan expect them to be able to do for her from down here?

"Get me over now!" Eddie waved his hand at Chimney as he climbed up over the rail and tried to edge over the side. He had to get down. He could see the beam was starting to break, she was going to fall. "(Y/n) I'm coming down now. Go, go- fuck!" He jumped over the side but he wasn't quick enough. She had fallen.

A horrible, gut-wrenching scream left (Y/n)'s lips when the beam snapped. There was nothing else for her to hold onto and nothing below her that could catch her fall and hold her up. She was going to fall all the way down to the pavement. She would splatter across the floor like an awful work of art. They would have to peel her off the pavement.

She didn't want to die like this.

"No!"

Panic boiled up in Evan's chest like a wildfire and spread throughout his body. His arms started to shake and his fingertips went numb with anxiety and it took all his effort to keep his eyes open.

He moved before he could think better of it and stretched his arms out in front of him like he was reaching out for the sun itself. Evan felt the girl slide through his arms and she fell a lot faster than he was expecting, as if gravity had been put on triple speed. But when she went through his arms, he pulled and clenched them as tightly as he could. His fingertips scrunched into any part of her body that he could, digging through her shirt and into her chest so much he almost broke through her skin.

Evan's knees bashed into the wall beneath the window and his hips and groin slammed into the window frame causing him to groan. A broken sound left his lips as his jaw clenched and his eyes snapped shut from the pressure that was now weighing on his whole body and pulling him down.

"I- I've got you! Hold on!"

When he felt the woman's hands grasping at his biceps and digging into his shoulders, Evan tried to lean back but he felt like he was about to fall out the window along with her.

"Help!" He screamed, gasping and clawing for breath when the woman started to slide through his arms. He pinned his elbows into her sides and pulled until her chest was meshed into his and her stomach was bashed into the wall.

Someone had caught her.

(Y/n) thought all the firemen had been up in her apartment, she had heard voices up there.

Her mind had been working in overdrive, ready to commit to the thought that this was her last few moments on Earth. This was it. She was going to see everything flash before her eyes seconds before she hit the ground. But a pair of strong arms bolted around her waist a mere two seconds after she started to fall.

Her knees bashed horribly into the wall and her head slammed into the man's shoulder but she tried to move quickly. (Y/n) tried to dig her nails into his shoulders to secure herself against him, unsure how he was even managing to hold her up right now. She wasn't a child or as light as a feather and she had been falling, that would make her weigh more and make it ten times harder to catch her and keep hold of her.

(Y/n) swung her aching legs around and pressed her heels into the wall to try and stabilise herself and support some of her weight because she could tell the man holding her was starting to slide out the window.

A desperate cry left (Y/n)'s lips when she felt the man start to fall down with her. If she didn't let go, was she going to drag someone else to their death?

"Oh God." Evan choked as he buried his face in the crook of the woman's neck and shoulder. He could feel his feet leaving the floor as his body tipped forward.

(Y/n) wasn't sure whether she voiced her thoughts or if this man just happened to know what she was thinking. Because he growled "I'm not letting go." Into her neck with such certainty that (Y/n) was determined he had read her mind. But she would rather him let go and say that he tried to save her than kill himself trying.

"I got you Buck." As fast as she could, Hen bolted over to Evan and wrapped her arms around his lower chest.

She dug her nails into his button up shirt and heaved as she pulled him backwards. Hen lifted one leg up and braced her foot on the wall for added momentum to push herself back and she pulled Evan into her chest as he finally started to straighten up and pull the woman with him.

Another scream left Evan's lips, mingling in with (Y/n)'s horrified yelps and bumbling pleas. Finally, with one last heave, Evan suddenly propelled backwards and barged into Hen before he toppled to the floor on his back. He gasped and groaned as he pulled the girl with him and she seemed to fly through the window before she landed on top of him with a thud.

He'd done it. He saved her. He actually saved a woman falling through the air. He caught her.

He caught her!

"Cap, he- fucking Hell, Buck caught her! We've got her in through the window, you'd better come down." Hen gripped her radio as she pushed up onto her knees and clapped her hand on Evan's shoulder.

How on Earth had he managed to do that? The odds were one thousand to one that he could actually catch her and not let her slide through his hands or fall with her. He had a split second to hold onto her before she disappeared and he'd managed to do it. Hen hoped someone had been recording this.

Evan opened his eyes and tried to catch his breath back as he looked down at the woman laid on top of him. She had moved her arms to bind them around his chest. Her head was tucked up into his neck and she was breathing very shallow and fast like she couldn't take in a proper breath.

He looped his right arm around her waist and pressed his left hand against his temple as he tried to gasp for air.

He found his hand going up and down her back as they both heaved and grumbled, trying to understand what had just happened and what they had managed to do. No one was going to believe this. No one would believe what Evan had done here today.

After a few seconds, Evan felt his breaths starting to slow down so he pressed his palm to the floor to try and sit them both up. His eyes rolled and he went dizzy for a few seconds while Hen rubbed his back and told him to breathe deeply.

"Are… are you okay?" He croaked hoarsely as he began to glide his hand up and down her back again.

"You… how did you… thanks." Words spluttered past (Y/n)'s lips and when she looked up at him, she could barely get her eyes to focus on him. Tears distorted her vision but she could scarcely make out a tender smile that made her stomach turn to mush.

She had no idea how he managed to do that, but she was going to be forever in debt to him.

Evan wasn't sure how he had done that either, but he couldn't stop a beaming smile from lighting up his face. He felt the girl shaking all over and it was causing him to shudder back and forth against her. He began to worry that she was about to pass out from how little air she was breathing in. All she seemed to be doing was panting and wheezing.

When Hen leaned over, about to try and ease the girl from his arms, Evan shook his head. She was frightened- no, she was traumatised. If she wanted to cling to him and reassure herself that she was alive and safe, Evan didn't have a problem with that.

"You're okay, I've got you." He began rubbing his hand up and down her back while he closed his eyes and concentrated on counting each breath he took.

He was sure he heard the elderly woman whisper 'Bless you' when she patted his shoulder and it made him grin. Evan had had a lot of scrapes and brushes with death. But if this miracle didn't secure his place in Heaven, he didn't know what would.

"Let's get you both up and checked over."

Hen held her hands out towards the girl tucked up in Evan's chest and hovered behind her when Evan tried to help her up. He held her hips and shuffled up to his feet, pulling her along with him just as the rest of the team filtered into the apartment.

As soon as she was on her feet, (Y/n) felt all the blood drain down from her head to her toes.

Her hands fumbled to try and hold the man's shoulders but she couldn't get a good grip anymore, everything was turning to jelly. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her knees caved in, unable to hold her up. She didn't have the right balance back with gravity yet.

"Wow- okay, okay I've got you." Evan wasn't sure how he managed to hold her up when he felt like he wanted to do the same thing. But he bound his arms tight around her waist and stretched his arm along her spine so his hand could cup the back of her neck and hold her head up. He didn't want her getting a neck injury or hurting herself even more than she already had.

He slowly went back down to the floor, kneeling on the carpet with the girl slumped on his chest and her face smushed into his shoulder.

He was grateful when Hen reached out and helped to turn her around and carefully stretch her legs out. They propped her back up against Evan's chest and he let her head loll against his neck as he weaved his arms beneath hers.

One hand curled into a fist and Evan started to rub his fist up and down her sternum to try and bring her back round while Hen waved the team over as they barged inside.

When Chimney dropped a medic bag beside her, Hen looked around and found a blood pressure cuff and slipped it up (Y/n)'s arm. She watched Eddie slump down into the chair at the table behind Evan and Bobby knelt down beside Evan with a hand on his shoulder and a broad smile. What Evan had just done was reckless, but it had also been brave and he pulled it off.

Bobby dreaded to think how Evan would have been if he risked that again and didn't manage to catch her. If this situation turned out the way they all thought it would, Evan would have been inconsolable if he didn't manage to save the girl and let her slip through his arms.

"W-what's her name?" Evan looked between the team with wide eyes. He had saved this girl, he had caught her mid-air and pulled her through a window and he didn't even know her name.

"(Y/n)."

"(Y/n), are you back with us honey?" Hen gave her hand a light squeeze while Evan carefully cupped her chin and tilted her head out from his neck so he could look down at her.

A quiet murmur left (Y/n)'s lips and when she tried to open her eyes, they danced around the room, unable to focus on anything in particular.

"BP is through the roof, administering blood thinners just to be safe." Hen found some blood thinners in her bag and injected them into (Y/n)'s elbow before she could sense the pain or realise what was going on. The last thing they needed was (Y/n) having a blood clot or risking a stroke.

Bobby waved at Chimney and asked him to go fetch the stretcher before he moved to talk to the apartment owner. He was going to have to do a report about this and talk to the building manager. If that balcony was unsafe, there could be numerous other people in danger of a fall just like (Y/n).

"Okay, honey I'm just gonna take a look at you."

(Y/n) tried to nod but she couldn't manage it. All she managed to do was flop her hand around until she found the man's wrist. She gripped him almost as tightly as he had held her through the window and a smile fluttered across her lips when he patted her hip.

He wasn't quite sure where to put his hands on her in case he hurt her or was inappropriate, but she seemed perfectly fine with his hand on her hip and his other hand near her thigh as she gripped his wrist tightly.

Reaching out, Hen gently lifted (Y/n)'s top up and began examining her chest but when she winced, Evan guessed it wasn't good. "You've broken a few ribs, you'll need an X-ray."

Her harsh landing on the metal beams had definitely broken a few ribs on her left side and maybe some on the right. But she was lucky not to have done any further extensive damage or puncture a lung on impact.

Evan's nose crinkled when he leaned his chin over (Y/n)'s shoulder and looked down at her arms which hen started to examine. She had quite a few deep scratches along her forearms and down near her wrists too. Clearly clinging to that beam had done as much harm as it had done good. She would be littered with bruises in a few days and she would need to be careful that she didn't get those cuts infected.

"No other broken bones. Let's get you on a drip, then we can head down to the hospital."

"H-have I thanked you yet?" (Y/n) flopped her head to the side so she could look up at her knight in shining armour. She smiled up at him and blinked a few times to clear her fuzzy vision and try to get a better look at him.

"You're welcome." He whispered with a sheepish smile pulling at his lips.

He looked up to the left when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and he looked up to see Eddie staring down at him with raised brows. "You, are one lucky bastard."

***

When a wisp of familiar hair caught his eye, Evan turned to the left instead of the right. His lips quirked and his right hand continued to glide up and down his left arm that continued to ache and throb beneath the bandage. Suddenly Evan didn't care about heading back to the emergency room and being signed off by the doctor.

He turned left, ignoring the signs pointing straight ahead to get back to the emergency room he had been sat in an hour ago. And he made his way down towards the X-ray unit after the girl that had caught his attention.

"(Y/n)?"

A shiver bolted down (Y/n)'s spine and she paused in the corridor and spun on her heels so fast her shoes squeaked against the polished floor.

"Oh!" Her lips curved up into a bright smile and something flashed in her eyes and made Evan's stomach jump with adrenaline.

He thought it was her. He thought it was the girl who hadn't been able to leave his mind for the last two weeks. The last time Evan saw her, they had brought her down to the X-ray unit after her fall, but that was where the team had to leave her. They couldn't stay with her; more specifically, Evan couldn't stay with her.

He had to get examined himself and then finish the last five hours of his shift running on an adrenaline high that lasted well into the night. Evan didn't get to see her again after leaving her at the hospital and part of him felt bad.

The other part of him felt cheated. Evan felt cheated that he had managed to save this girl and he didn't get to talk to her or know anything about her. All he knew was that she got to live another day.

"It's you! Are you okay?" (Y/n) felt the sudden urge to reach out and wrap her arms around him, but she held back when she realised his left arm was bandaged up.

He was here. Her saviour, her knight in shining armour was here in the hospital. (Y/n) had such a dreaded feeling that she was never going to see him again after the fire department dropped her off here. She thought that was it, she might catch a glimpse of him on tv, but not in person.

"Yeah, yeah, just a minor burn. How are you… I've been wondering about you." Evan lowered his arm down to his side and moved to lean his shoulders back against the wall so they weren't blocking the corridor.

He smiled brighter when (Y/n) moved to stand in front of him. She was so close that he could almost feel each breath she took and the way she smiled up at him made his knees go weak.

"Honestly, I'm not sure how I am. Did… did you know someone recorded you catching me? The odds of being able to do that are like, one in a million. I cheated death because of you."

Tears trickled down (Y/n)'s face and her lips parted in shock when Evan reached out and brushed them away before he could stop himself.

All she could think about was how he had managed to save her. If that had been anyone else trying to catch her or anyone else falling, it wouldn't have worked. She didn't know how he managed to do that. Watching the video back was even worse because it looked fake, it looked too good to be true.

A camera crew and about four different people on the ground below had recorded it and each version was the same, proving it was true but it still didn't feel real to (Y/n). She almost died. Fate had intervened at just the right time and decided she deserved another chance, and she didn't know why.

"I almost dropped you." Evan murmured quietly while his eyes trained on his feet. He could still feel her slipping through his arms. He could feel gravity clawing at her and trying to drag her away from him.

"I'm so grateful you didn't."

Evan's eyes darted up from his feet to look at her when he felt her hand reach up and cup the side of his face. Her touch made his heart have palpitations and his stomach fluttered with adrenaline that made him go lightheaded.

"Do I get to know your name? Or do I have to start calling you my hero?" She felt him lean into her touch which made her arm tremble but when he smiled at her like that, (Y/n) just wanted to faint.

She didn't even know his name. She didn't know anything about her very own personal saviour. Her firefighter. The man she had to keep calling her hero because she didn't know his name. Despite all the videos up online and the one that the media kept replaying, they didn't name him. They just said one of LA's finest firemen from the 118 station.

And (Y/n) didn't have the nerve to go down to the station to thank him. She didn't know if he would of appreciated it or if she would of been an inconvenience, getting in the way when he was trying to work.

Fate seemed to be on their side, bringing them together again today.

"Everyone calls me Buck, but you can call me Evan."

"Well Evan, thank you, truly. I owe you a debt I don't think I could ever repay." (Y/n) owed him her life, there was nothing she could do that would repay her debt to him or thank him enough for what he had done for her. Even if it had been chance or fate that allowed him to save her, he still tried. At that exact moment, at just the right time, he managed to save her.

She went to drop her hand but stopped when Evan reached out to cup her wrist before she could pull away. He leaned further into her touch and smiled as his thumb stroked across the back of her hand.

"I think you could repay me by going out on a date with me. Fate let me save you for a reason, didn't it?"

A shiver rolled down (Y/n)'s spine and made her knees quake but she was unable to bite back her smile that spread across her lips. Fate had brought them together in a strange, unfamiliar way, and what better way to test out why fate had done that than to go out together.

(Y/n) knew she wanted to get to know the man that saved her, whether that was by going out on a date or just trying to be friends. But a date with someone so kind, modest and sincere felt like the best thing in the world and it was the perfect way to repay him for catching her.

"I suppose I could take my hero out on a date."

[babypuphole]

well, i classify the customers as the people. they're the one's paying mommy after all. so your third customer is the proud owner of three stocky cross-mixes that have never spent a day in a doggy training (unlike you, the video i took of that day is doing so well on all the icky porn sites rn)

you're sore and achy from the first two customers and now your poor holes are going to be subjected to three sturdy dogs all at once. the first is going to slobber all over your dripping cunt for all of two seconds before he fucks deep inside of you. he fucks harder and rougher and his cock is much girthier than the ones before him, you'll be delirious with pleasure in no time.

one of the puppies is the gentler of the trio but that doesn't mean he doesn't want his fill too. he comes around and lays on his side, red rocket exposed, hard and waiting. you get scratched up a bit by the first dog as you inch closer and bend down, licking at the second pup's throbbing cock. the dog behind you growls a warning, but lets you take the second dog into that cute little mouth of yours so you can pleasure the gentle one.

you love the taste. mommy's pretty sure you'd live off doggy cum if you could. so suck it all down like an obedient little bitch while your boycunt gets thoroughly bred. i bet you'd be moaning around it with your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

the pair finish at around the same time, and the gentle dog licks at your face when he stands, cleaning up the mess of cum that you didn't manage to swallow. you stay knotted to the first dog for a while before he grows tired and tears himself free. you're only free for a moment before the third dog is upon you. the biggest of the three and the scariest.

he smells the bitch on you and mounts you in seconds but--oh no! it looks like it's gone in the wrong hole! you're so covered in slick that it doesn't take much for him to push in, and even if you wanted to, there'd be no fighting him pff.

but it's okay. mommy programmed a little trigger for when that happens so every time he bottoms out inside of you it feels like a mini orgasm. it also makes a big, stupid, ahegao grin stretch your face. you're such a disgusting little anal whore and you love it, don't you, puppy? <3

he nips your neck to claim you once he pumps you full, growling if you dare try and pull away. the stretch in your ass is so humiliating, even through all the hypnosis mommy's put you through but if anything that would just make you wetter. i bet you'd push between your legs and rub your lil cunnie to the shame of it. what a dirty kiddo.

finally, the owner is one of the rare few who sits in and strokes his cock at you debasing yourself. he pays very well and even know you don't like human cock nearly as much as dog cock, mommy's gonna let him use you too.

i know you'll be a good baby boy and take it for mommy, hm? you're such a good puppy for me, and it feels so good to present your holes and obey.

three at once is so tiring but so nice!! feeling doggy cøck in all of my holes, filling me up like the perfect breeding puppy i am!! 🥰 thank you mommy!

of course i’ll take it!! it’s my job, right? and it feels so good to obey mommy and obey the customers, just like i was always meant to!! he can use all my holes if he wants to!! ☺️💕✨

[tubbytarchia]

Traffic/Life series roster as dinosaurs

A lot of these don't make for very good hybrids unless you wanna get into freaky territory or full on centaur but... Hope it's a fun scroll nonetheless!

Grian - Novialoidea

A small birdie... The name also means "New wings" which I find fun. New lives and death games to be part of, new wings to accompany him... (Honorable mention to "Shuvuuia" the "desert bird" who unfortunately is not a pterosaur (doesn't fly)) (Yes we're including pterosaurs! Just using "dinosaur" as a conveient blanket term)

Tango - Aratasaurus / Pyroraptor

Fire raptor! Either works just fine and Tango as a skittery little raptor is perfect for a creature like him

Scar - Apatosaurus

"Deceptive Lizard" harkening back to Scar's scamming tendencies. Though I've always liked the idea of him being some larger gentler animal in any hybrid scenario and a long-neck fits the bill well. He can poke his nose into people's conversations easily to start marketing something useless to them and swishes his tail to ward off anyone who's about to stop him

Impulse - Nasutoceratops

Ren - Regaliceratops

Horns. COOL horns. I don't know what else you want from me ceratopses are just way too awesome. Nasutoceratops is a wicked cool dinosaur for having its horns point so forward much like a bull and I for one can jive with some Impulse bull symbolism. Bulls are often viewed as strong, sturdy and loyal, traits also assigned to Impulse a LOT of the time. But though he IS intensely loyal in many cases (+ Ceratopses are also known for how they defend their own!), and he's not very outward about the following traits, he can get quite petty and bitchy and hold grudges. Still, you don't think of that when you look at him and he seems to agree! Eg him feeling like he should be accepted into Cleo's alliance in 3rd life without actually proving himself when Cleo was rightfully hesitant, at which Impulse more or less rolled his eyes. And him proclaiming "betrayal!" when killed by Bdubs when their alliance was as firm as a rat's tail

(And I feel the need to point this out too just in case: "bulls are also known for their temper" yeah but they're not like that! Bulls like many animals become defensive when exposed to aggravating behavior or movement! Which you could work into Impulse's grudge holding and intense loyalty...? I don't know enough about him sorry but do with that what you will)

Regaliceratops! Regal!! Crown shaped frill!!! Need I say more?

Gem - Therizinosaurus

Theris are so bad bitch coated to me and I would love to have one as my wife I mean um I couldn't decide on a less generic specimen so Gem can just be a Theri! A herbivore - often associated with the belief that herbivores are gentle passive creatures, but far from it, especially with Gem! She bares her claws like it's no one's business

Martyn - Stygmoloch

A Pachy with a tough head and a tendency to bonk people - I think it fits Martyn's tendency to perpetuate drama haha. The Stygmoloch's name though more or less translates to "demon of the styx river", the river of the underworld representing loathing of death. To me this makes sense with all the watcher lore (that I have a hard time understanding but whatever!!) especially with how Martyn became in LL. The watchers themselves don't loathe death (??) of course. They're death games. But someone within the game trying to stay alive and win? Probably loathes the idea of themselves dying. I have no clue what Im saying

Pearl - Carnotaurus

Ok maybe a hot take not to make her into a pteradon or even a raptor with wing-like features but those just didn't fit that well in my opinion. Rather I wanted her to have some kind of horn motif in place of her wings as visual symbolism for her character. I'd like to imagine her having fine horns, to then have them damaged (one broken off) and simultaneously the other more grown out. Think of how domesticated goats for example have their horns trimmed. I think human hybrids with horns would do the same to keep them from becoming a bother but Pearl would neglect to after her heartbreak in DL. I was heavily considering the Diabloceratops for this, especially because of the name (Devil horned face - good ostracizing material) but Pearl strikes me a lot more as a carnivore and there are only two horned carnivores out there so... Carnotaurus it is haha. And even now I'm making her horns unrealistically big but.... We can suspend some belief

BigB - Oryctodromeus

"Digging Runner"! I've already talked plenty of why BigB is very rabbit behavior to me and my reasons for assigning this burrowing dinosaur to him are similar. Tldr he is fidgety and cautious yet clever and constantly buries himself underground

Lizzie - Anurognathidae

I don't even fucking know man it made me think of Lizzie and then I wasn't able to assign anything else to her. Lizzie often claims to be confused and if any dinosaur looks to be in a perpetual state of confusion then its this one. I know a lot of people like to portray Lizzie as a butterfly also so there you go, wings!!! And it's quite cat-like too for those who like to draw her as a cat

Mumbo - Leinkupal

I really struggled with Mumbo... So many different dinos fit him imo but I figured it should be at least something moderately large (so "Technosaurus" was out of the question lol). Then I rediscovered this dinosaur whose name translates to "vanishing family" and then I thought about LL and SL and how Mumbo went out quickly after the initial death/s and left a very felt absence in someone's alliance and then I became really emotional and forgot what I was doing

Joel - Nodocephalosaurus

Bdubs - Psittacosaurus

"Knob Headed Lizard"

Joel as an Ankylosaur has been stuck in my head from day one of assigning dinosaurs to the Lifers and I'm frustrated that I can't truly explain why. You'd view an Ankylosaur as a slow and docile creature, even compared to other herbivores, but...

1. Maybe not so much nowadays, I don't know what non-dino nerds think, but I feel like ankylosaurs were largely believed to be HUGE back in the day, much like velociraptors, when in reality they're not that big. The Nodocephalosaurus is especially small even among other ankylosaurs. But, well, we all know what Joel loves to say about himself

2. Joel is or likes to make himself look well in control, just as ankylosaurs have little to worry about as far as predators go. Especially in earlier series where he was content basing mostly by himself. It's always when things get dire and he enters his red life that he becomes very impulsive and erratic like an ankylosaur flipped on its back

3. I know there's a distinction between Traffic Joel and Empires Joel and whatever other Joel but... Even in death games his more charitable traits shine through here and there. He really becomes a dangerous rascal for a large majority of the time and he's very good at it, he's not putting on a mask or anything, but I like to remember that underneath that tough spiky armor is gentleness and caring. His care towards Lizzie and Pearl and Etho etc etc

4. The image of Joel as a hell of a spiky creature is just really fun to me. Yet heavy and blunt ones! And someone once proposed the idea of him having a club tail but having chiselled it to be sharp to mirror him being a menace. (Added benefit also that it's lighter that way haha) To me he's always been an obvious heavy hitter rather than stealthy or particularly creative etc. Him as a carnivore just doesn't work as well for me

The name bares no fitting meaning but when I look at Bdubs I think of Psittaco. All other species close to it in looks are already ceratopsians and we have like... 3 of those already lol. Im sorry Bdubs you look so stupid

Cleo - Lythronax

There's so few predators in this roster lol oops, but Cleo deserves to be an apex one! The name translates to "Gore King" because you know, zombies... and you know, Cleo is very king so true. If any of the Lifers should be able to boast rows of razor sharp teeth to gore others it should be ZombieCleo

Scott - Theiophytalia

I've been really struggling with Scott but how about the dinosaur whose name translates to "Belonging to the garden of Gods". There's only one known specimen of this species and it's an Iguanadon looking dinosaur which I think a lot of people would regard as the most basic, possibly boring type of dinosaur (if it weren't for the Allosaurus which already takes the title of "basic straight white guy") but that further fits Scott imo. It's always been a strong point of appeal to me how MUCH there is to his character that so often goes under the radar or unexplored, and how he's very often portrayed as just some handsome looking guy as opposed to a hybrid etc. He's not at all extravagant yet has mastered his craft of bending fate in his favor, he so often has things perfectly under his control just as he wants them, etc... reflective of the name "Theiophytalia" even if you wouldn't think such a dinosaur to sport one of the most prolific names a dinosaur can have. Also garden something something flower husbans. Basically whatever Bree's take on Scott is lol. I don't wanna blab for 5 paragraphs about that blue mf here but. I hope this makes sense

Jimmy - Yinlong

I struggled with this mf the most because he's another very hashtag deep character. I felt really bad to remove his bird motifs completely because the canary is so essential to him, but a raptor nor a pteradon fit my image of him at all. I spent so much time looking into various species but it just aint it, but Yinlong was possibly quilled and we can still cover him in feathers, even if he has nothing close to wings haha... BUT ANYWAY. Yinlong is a small kind of pathetic looking dinosaur, and Jimmy definitely isn't small but he'd sure be made to feel that way. Yinlong translates to "Hidden Dragon" however, a rather thought-provoking name for such a dinosaur. Given his character, it sure does feel like there's a soul of a dragon laying dormant somewhere in him, buried by all the self deprecation and curse labels. Honorable mention to Tianyulong, a very similar dinosaur who was named after a museum, but "Tianyu" also translates to peace and content. Something that Jimmy can't yet but deserves to be

Etho - undefined raptor

Already made a loong post about raptor Etho haha which I assume yall have seen since the support towards that post is the only reason I'm even making this post

Skizz - Olorotitan

"Titanic Swan" close enough to an angel right. I feel the whole angel thing is a bit overdone when Skizz can become a malicious little creature every now and then, but swans much like angels do get viewed as beautiful and taken as symbolism of love. Much like Skizz is largely viewed as an angel and often as someone who can do no wrong. But mostly I wanted Skizz to be a hadrosaur/duck-billed dinosaur, because those are dinosaurs known for their speculated vocalizations. And what is Skizz good at? Talking and voicing his love and appreciation? Yeah? Yeah... I'm so sorry Skizz btw this hybrid idea does not work out

Again, a lot of these don't work so well as hybrids... Some like the long-neck ones I cant imagine to have more than a spiky spine back and a tail, but! These picks aren't based on hybrid potential but rather what I think genuinely fits. I did really work on this all day looking through a bunch of dinosaurs and research haha, but I do love dinosaurs a lot... If you disagree with any hey thats cool! Feel free to give me your opinions if you've any and I hope this was fun to scroll through regardless

[adoregojo]

"it's .... calling again?!"

based on this

mf is flabbergasted

it was a normal night where he was preparing dinner, swiftly cutting the needed vegetables into small chunks. he insisted on helping you cook even helping with the bare minimum, as long as he can ease things off your plate he'll be happy. it was a great night for him, but honestly every night with you is a great night.

that until you came to him telling him about that the guy next door sent you an email voicemail, he wasn't suspicious at first he thought maybe he wanted to greet you or something but it sent him off it was sent to you only.

he nods anyway as you play the voicemail, at first it was normal and he keeps doing the cutting quietly. he space a bit when he says he left a message days before..that was odd.

then he starts compliment you, your boyfriend stops for a while, he was now hard staring at you then the phone, his brows meeting in an almost disgusted look (not at you of course) the urge to snatch the phone from your hand was strong. but he stay still for your sake swallowing his feelings. the longer the man kept talking and threatening you the more sturdy his hand was holding the knife.

he snaps when he mentioned your childhood trauma, how fucking dare he?! suddenly your boyfriend was holding the knife as if he was a serial killer. he was ready to step out of the door to greet your very beloved neighbor a real heart stabbing warming welcome before you stop him telling him it was a joke. you actually had to hold him back physically standing between him and the door.

he stopped greeting your neighbor for whatever reason.

isagi, hiori, yukii, chigiri, kunigami

he's..something

usually at this time he would be on couch eating snacks while watching tv with you in his embrace, except you were in the kitchen getting something while he scrolled down the tv recommended shows. it was you two free time where he'd rather spend it with you than anyone, it's his favorite thing and most exciting part of all his busy week.

as you soon as you sat down he recognized the look on your face, a troubled one. usually you would have been tackled by him right now but he wanted to hear what you have first. you nervously spoke about a new coworker who sent you in voice message, he raised his eyebrow. he didn't like this already.

he decided he didn't like the guy who just spoke three words which was just him introducing himself, he takes a bite of the plate of chips, chewing on them until he heard the guy talking about your looks, your boyfriend was so baffled he choked on his chip. he thought this couldn't get any worse until he says how great in bed he is, that was his last straw.

he cleared his throat as he stands up to steal your phone, literally snatching it and mumbling who the fuck dose this guy think he is? a millions of thoughts went through his head and they were all plans to take this guy down and make his swallow his own words. he was about to lose his mind when he couldn't find his number, shoving the phone in your face.

"call him and tell him to come here. RIGHT NOW."

"babe..it was a prank."

got removed by security from your work place for trying to assault someone. he got banned too

shidou, reo, shidou, karasu, aiku, otoya, bachira, ness

never again.

you honestly didn't expect much from him, your boyfriend always remained calm and collected. not that he didn't care, he trusted you and the other part was just his natural, you always thought it was a part of his charm.

he was washing the dinner dishes quietly, with his face who was always told it was bitch resting one, you wondered what would people think of your very unbearable boyfriend was doing his chores like a housewife. it made you light headed when he was willing to do this for you only.

but it was no time to shy out now, you can admire him later. you walked up to him and pocked his arm, without turning to you he asked softly of what is it. telling him that a a client keeps sending you voicemails, for a second he seems invested, then nodding for you to play it.

he doesn't say anything for a the first minute, still scrubbing the leftovers soup plate. yet he slows his movement when the the man on the phone starts rambling about how elegant and beautiful you are, the frown was slowly making it way to his face.

eventually he stopped what was he doing, totally spacing out and grimacing at every word the guy on your phone spoke, he was patient. very patient. at least that's what he tells himself to hear the whole thing while pinching the bridge of his nose.

the message ended and the first thing your boyfriend did was head to the bedroom, his aura felt like a whole winter season. a few seconds past and you felt you went a little too far, or maybe he just got bored.

that until he slams the door open by his foot while carrying a literal shotgun, you were speechless. almost screamed in horror.

"whats his house address. i need to have a little chat with him."

he also got banned for sending death stares to every client that gets too close. doesn't get easily angry my ass.

sae, rin, barou, kaiser, nagi.

[strawhatpoofy]

different one piece menses and braiding your hair

a/n: hi lovelies !!! here is a lil sfw drabble / pref piece about Buggy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Luffy, and Brook & braiding a gn!reader’s hair! I tried to make it as inclusive as possible, pls feel free to message me if you have any questions e any suggestions or notice something I missed. ok ok imma just get to it tbh

warnings: none I think

characters: buggy, luffy, sanji, zoro, usopp, brook

words: bitch idk maybe like 300-500 per character ish?

Buggy 🃏

He’s in the middle of a rant about “that Strawhat buffoon stealing his spotlight” when you ask him to braid your hair for you. He doesn’t even break his monologue, just gestures for you to sit in front of him. Before you’ve even repositioned fully his hands are off his arms and in your hair, detangling and combing through with practiced fingers. Buggy definitely can braid hair, of many different types and lengths and knows a few different classic braid styles, and it’s something you and the rest of the crew are well aware of. You hum as he lightly scratches at your scalp while parting your locks as needed, and he’s deftly maneuvering your hair into whatever creative style his fingers mindlessly deem fit. Buggy is a casual king of hair care, and though he’d never admit it, it warms his heart when you and the crew members ask him for help with things like this. Kinda like chimps bonding via grooming, ya know? So when you close your eyes, relaxing into the captain’s hands, and nod to let him know you’re still listening it’s more than enough for him to take his time making something pretty.

Zoro ⚔️

It’s a golden afternoon on the Sunny when you wake Zoro up from a nap with a soft nudge on the shoulder. He groans, lazily squinting one eye open at you, and you ask him if he wants to try braiding your hair. This motherfucker immediately closes that one open eye. With some giggling and persistence, and the rest of the crew bustling about, hopes of sleep for Zoro are effectively crushed. He grunts, grumbles, groans as he shifts from his sleep-sitting position to accommodate you in front of him. It’s when he starts to crack his knuckles that you begin to doubt your decision. He rakes calloused fingers through your hair, moving surprisingly slowly and taking his time when he catches tangles. You let yourself cautiously enjoy his hands combing through your locks when his hands stop, and he pulls them back to his lap.

“How the fuck do you do a braid?” Zoro has one eyebrow arched, his head tilted slightly. His look of confusion is enough to send you busting out laughing. Zoro may not be able to braid your hair, but he’ll gladly play with it for you and he can put it up into a sturdy ponytail.

Luffy 🏴‍☠️

You guys are on the deck, braiding sweet grass with Chopper and Usopp; it’s something you wouldn’t have expected Luffy to know how to do, but he enjoys it. Everyone is laughing and enjoying the sun, making baskets for Sanji to use in the pantry. When a breeze comes by, blowing your hair in front of your eyes, you’ve barely had time to push it back when Luffy is sitting behind you. He asks you if he can braid your hair for you, voice hopeful and intrigued.

“Wanna see if I can braid that pretty hair just like I can with the grass! C’mon, please?” His puppy eyes are so shiny, how can anyone say no to your sweet captain ever? So that’s how you find yourself pressed against his crossed legs, his hands combing through your hair. You feel your shoulders drop and your lids fall, and you hum as Luffy begins a surprisingly intricate series of braids. He’s giggling and moving a mile a minute, telling chopper it’s “even easier than the grass! So much softer-”. By the time he’s done, you look like some sort of woodland nymph with a multitude of different braids in your hair. Not necessarily a skill you expected of your captain, but one you fully embrace- letting your captain braid your hair whenever he looks at you with those gleaming eyes.

Sanji 🚬

It’s when you’re helping him prep in the small kitchen. Your hair keeps falling over your shoulders, and your persistent huffing and puffing as you try and blow stray strands out of your face has Sanji up behind you. His long fingers are pulling the unruly hair away from your sweat-slicked forehead, about to pull it all back into a bun when you ask him if he could put it up in a braid. His fingers freeze, just for a moment, before he proceeds to plait your locks.

“Of course I can, chef.” You can hear the wink in his voice, and you nearly reach back to give him a warning smack when your hair drops against your back, perfectly tucked into a neat braid. Sanji has washed his hands and is sidled up next to you at the prep counter again before you can even gush about his shockingly impressive hair styling skills. But before he can stop you, you’ve bolted out the kitchen door to show your oh-so-purty hair off to the crew, and to make sure Sanji is spending plenty of time plaiting everyone’s hair this evening.

Usopp 🎯

Usopp is absolutely a hair braiding master. With textured hair himself, he feels confident offering the crew his braiding services. Particularly when you all find yourselves in a hot climate, Usopp is like a newspaper boy desperate for a berry.

“Someone! Anyone! Come on. You know you want to- know you got to show off your iconic hair-do by the famous Sniper King! Please…” He’s starting to pout, and everyone knows he is indeed cuter than Nami. You can’t resist that pout. Too soon, you’re on your feet, hands up in surrender as you make your way to Usopp’s side. He’s whooping and gloating, with promises that everyone else will be jealous for not taking him up on his generous offer. Then he’s plopping you down by the shoulders into a seat from behind you. His fingers are calloused but magical on your scalp, in your hair. He’s chittering away about some new tinkering project as he pulls your hair into tight braids, meant to last at least a week or so. You’re humming and leaning into his hands. He’s done quickly; he’s efficient at this. He finishes his work, tilting your head to make sure the braids are even. He pats the top of your head, and sends you off to “market his business”.

Brook 🎼

It’s your least favorite day- wash day. With wet hair and a strong desire to get it off of you, you find yourself pattering around the Sunny. The first one you find is Brook- unsurprising at this time of night. He’s singing softly to himself and sketching notes down in a work book when you approach him, asking him to braid your hair for you. His surprise is physically tangible as he puts down his pen and book.

“Y-you’d let me? Are you sure? Could I?” Brook is giddy, touch starved and affectionate man he is. You’re nodding and turning your back to him, showing him your damp locks and he stops stuttering over his words, and is sidled up at your back with the softest of “of course, thank you”’s you’ve ever heard. When Brook’s fingers touch your scalp, you’re initially surprised by the warmth. You didn’t expect, well, bone to be warm. He scrapes the tips of his fingers along your head, getting hums of satisfaction to fall from your lips. He gains his confidence at this, and he begins to pull your hair into a simple braid. It falls against your back, dampening your shirt, but it’s finally off your face, your neck. You give Brook a hug of relief and gratitude as you croon over how well he did your hair. It won’t be the last time he does it after he tells you it’s something he loved doing for his crew, before. He’s great at it and so tender with his touch, and is more than happy to acquiesce whenever you ask him to braid your hair.

[melanated-writersblock]

(O.M.G.P) One Month Grace Period

Toji x Chubby/Plus-Size!Black!Female!Reader

~No Nut November is over, and Toji couldn’t think of anything more exciting than turning you into his free use slut to bring in the new month😘

A/N & Warnings: I’M SORRY YALL I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE STORY IT IS LONG AS FUCK!!! But it’s not just porn with no plot!!! (For those of you that aren’t just in it to get mentally dicked down, I wrote a prologue! The link is below and can be read before you start this fic!)

LIKES ARE COOL, BUT COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE BETTER! PLEASE LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! ALSO DON’T COPY MY SHIT. I WILL KNOW.

Content: Multi-sex scenes, praise/degradation, free-use so dub-con, Oral (f receiving), a small bit of spit kink in there, fingering, shower sex, couch sex, kitchen sex, bedroom sex, unprotected sex, What did NLE Choppa say? MEAT TO MEAT! WALL TO WALL! COOCHIE TO MY BALLS!🗣️ (18+ MDNI)

SONG RECOMMENDATIONS: Freaky Bih from Da A - Louisvt, Fuck The World - Brent Faiyaz, What You Need - Don Toliver, 2AM - SZA, Ambré’s Interlude - Destin Conrade, Animosity/ Dear Xodi - Johnny Rain

Prologue - November 30th

December 1st

12:45 AM.

Your thighs quivered as Toji pounded into you relentlessly, the lewd sound of skin slapping as his precum mixed with your wetness filled the room. It felt too good, you didn’t know whether to scream or just shut up and take it. Between Toji having one arm over you bracing the headboard and the other pushing your thighs back, knees near your chest, you felt yourself getting a little too close. “Oooh- Toji, I’m gonna….oh fuuuhhhkkk~” Toji chuckled at your mewling, “Look at you, only 45 minutes in and you’re ready to cum on my cock like a greedy little slut.” His pace slowed, almost painfully. “I didn’t give you permission to do that just yet, Princess.”Watching his girth slide in and out of you, Toji brings two fingers to the base of his dick where your cream spills out with each thrust and sucks his fingers clean. You can’t help but moan at the sight of something so sinful yet passionate, you clench around him as his slow pace persists. Too far gone and busy chasing ecstasy, you didn’t notice Toji move his arm from gripping the headboard to cradle the back of your head as he leaned his weight into you, with his mouth next to your ear. “Yeahhh you’re clenching around me so tight, you’re such a fucking slut. Taking this dick like the good little bitch you are, you’re so fucking wet for me.” “Unnnhhh~” “Ooohhh, yeah. Yeah?” “Yes-yes-yes~fuccck!” “Come on Baby, I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me~” “Toji don’t make me……fuck…….please…..Toji pleaseee~” His pace picks up, “How hard was that, Hmm? You’re too shy to ask me to cum but you’re making a mess on my cock with no problem.” As his thrusts get harder he cradles your head, blocking it from hitting the headboard, his fingers weaving through your box braids, your floral bonnet long gone, thrown somewhere on the nightstand. You hold onto his sturdy arms for some sort of anchor, as you feel your soul quite literally about to leave your body. You let the sudden wave of pleasure take over your body as you shudder, mouth open, screaming vulnerably, eyes closed, with tears brimming. “Yesss, cum for me, give it to me, give it to me. Ohhhh, Good Girl!”

9:19 AM.

“Ah fuckkkk, that’s it~” Toji hoisted you against the tiled shower wall with your full legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks into you, the supple flesh of your ass moving with ease as he guides you onto him, the steam of the hot shower shrouding the entire bathroom in a thick fog. Your morning routine took a turn when your shower time got sabotaged by Toji and his morning wood. So here you were, getting lifted up and impaled on his dick like you weighed absolutely nothing. Still dazed from the midnight session, the pleasure was intense, and you were honestly, still kinda sensitive. You leaned your back against the warm tiles and pushed your hands on his sculpted chest to brace yourself and lessen the force of the thrusts, but each time you’d lean against the wall he would lean back so your full weight was on him and your breasts were flush against his chest. Despite your voluptuous stature, he was able to manhandle you and throw you around like a simple bag of sugar. One of his many redeeming qualities, and admirable…..but not in this situation. “Come on Baby, you were being so good for me earlier. You sensitive?” You couldn’t speak, and he knew it. Toji got off at the thought of you still being fucked out and a moaning mess. It haunted his dreams all November. Imagining how many ways he could make you cum on him, scream and writhe in pleasure, all while he’s still chasing his first high.

12:04 PM.

You knew the kitchen incident would have to be addressed at some point, but this isn’t how you expected it to go. “Move your fucking hand.” “Toji pleaseeee, you’re gonna make me cum again~” “That’s the whole point, now move your hand and keep your legs open.” You were in the process of making lunch because you and Toji agreed that you both were hungry, but apparently you weren’t on the same page. Toji made quick work of lifting you onto the kitchen counter and throwing your thighs over his shoulders before going to town. Looking down at him from your seated position, his tousled black hair visible as he laps up your juices. “You taste so fucking good Princess~” Toji was wearing you down, every single word out of his mouth brought you that much closer to your next orgasm, “~Thank you”. He stops for a moment to give you a kiss and you moan, tasting yourself on him. “You’re being so obedient” Toji spits, and the long string of saliva slowly trickles down from your clit to your pussy. You look at him full of awe and arousal at how irrationally hot that little trick was. Laughing at your reaction, he spits on his middle and ring finger before plunging them into your dripping pussy. Starting off slowly in a “come hither” motion, he watches as your eyes roll back at the sensation, using his second hand to toy with your clit. “Aww, my obedient little fuckdoll, looks so cute when she’s gonna cum.” FUCK, you couldn’t take it anymore, he’s too good at this. He didn’t even cum yet!

4:32 PM.

“Shiiiiiit!” You cry into the plush sofa armrest as you make poor attempts to squirm away from Toji’s firm grip on your wide hips as he pulls you back onto him. Your ass ripples as he speeds up his pace at an almost inhuman speed, your whimpering and cries growing louder. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna cum!” Toji’s brutal pace finally started to falter, something that rarely happens…meaning he’s definitely close. He pulls out, and some of his precum mixed with yours spills out of you. “Not yet Princess, get up for me.” Seeing your dumbstruck state, Toji peels your dazed frame off of the armrest. He sits at the edge of the sofa, legs parted and sits you on top of him with your back to his chest and your legs spread on either side of his. “Theeere we go~”, Toji slides his throbbing dick along your pussy as you shudder, leaning your body back against his in a moment of recovery, resting your head back on his shoulder. He kisses your neck before moving to your ear to whisper, “Here’s what’s gonna happen…I’m gonna finish fucking your brains out, and you’re gonna cum again while I fill you up. Okay?” All you could do was sigh. “Nod, if you understand Princess…” you shake your head subtly still catching yourself. Toji noticed this, and gave you time before snaking his arm around your tummy. “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He slides into you, and you cry out, “Shhh, shh, shh, breathe. You’re okay.” His pace starts to pick up, “Ahhhhhhhhh~” “I knowww, Baby, I knowww, Fuck!” Toji’s words started to slur as he continued to fuck you, a creamy mess pooling at his lap as you both began seeing stars, “Fuuhhkkk you look so pretty like this, shit. You want me to cum inside of you, hm? You want me to fill you up? Turn you into my…..fuck…..my little cumdrunk slut?” “Unnnggggg fuck, Toji, Yeeeeesssss~” You couldn’t help yourself as the tears began to fall, you were in too deep (and so was he), and too far gone to know what the fuck was going on anymore. Your climax washed over you like a tsunami….so strong until you didn’t even realize you squirted all over Toji and went unconscious for 10 seconds. Coming to, Toji was already grabbing a blanket and water for you, “Good Girl, you did amazing cumming all over me like that. I’m so proud of you.”. You smiled, nestling into him as you settled down. Finally, a moment of peace. On the verge of nodding off, you couldn’t help but feel a particular unsettled energy. You look at Toji, who seems relaxed…but not the type of relaxed that someone that just had an orgasm should be. “Toji?” “Hm?” “You didn’t finish…did you?” He looks at you with a mischievous grin, “Not one bit.”

This is going to be a looong month.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: Chapter Four

Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: You've got narcolepsy and have been visiting the Dreaming daily for years. Then its Lord and King finally return and he doesn't know quite what to think of you.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Narcoleptic!Reader, for you dear @aralezinspace.

Word Count: ~2.4k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

You stand in the middle of the chaos, the ground still vibrating slightly beneath your feet. Broken statues and uprooted plants litter the once pristine garden. Mervyn, his pumpkin head glowing faintly in the dim light, mutters to himself as he surveys the damage.

"Well, this is just peachy," he grumbles, kicking a shattered stone bench with his boot.

You bend down, picking up pieces of a shattered sundial. The metal feels cool and heavy in your hands. "Where should I start?" you ask, glancing at Mervyn.

He waves a hand toward the toppled arbor. "That thing's got to go upright again. Can't have the vines just lying there like that."

You nod and head over to the arbor. It’s heavier than it looks, and as you lift one side, your muscles strain against the weight. Mervyn joins you, grumbling under his breath as he helps lift the other side.

"Watch your step," he says, and you both maneuver it back into position. The vines cling desperately to the wooden structure, some leaves torn and wilting.

"Think it'll hold?" you ask, wiping sweat from your brow.

"It better," Mervyn replies, inspecting your work with a critical eye. "Next time an earthquake hits, it might not be so lucky."

You move on to the broken statues. Some of them are beyond repair, their faces cracked and limbs scattered across the grass. You gather what pieces you can find, placing them in a pile near the garden's edge.

Mervyn's voice breaks through your concentration. "I’ll have to get new ones made. These were classics."

"I know a sculptor in the Dreaming who could help," you offer, thinking of the artist who lived near Fiddler's Green.

Mervyn grunts in acknowledgment but doesn’t reply. His attention shifts to a large tree that’s leaning dangerously close to one of his prized rose bushes.

"We need to prop that up before it crushes everything," he says.

Together, you find sturdy branches to use as supports. It takes some effort and coordination, but eventually, you manage to brace the tree enough that it stands upright on its own.

"Good enough for now," Mervyn mutters, wiping dirt from his hands onto his overalls. "You go talk to that sculptor while I clean up the rest of this mess."

You make your way out of the garden, leaving Mervyn to his grumbling and repairs. The path to the sculptor’s workshop winds through the heart of the Dreaming, where reality shifts with each step. The ground beneath you transitions from cobblestones to soft moss, and trees with leaves of gold and silver arch overhead.

As you walk, you notice a group of dreamers gathered around a small fountain, their faces serene and distant. They murmur to each other in hushed tones, their words lost to the babbling water. You pass by quietly, not wanting to disturb their reverie.

The sculptor’s workshop comes into view, a quaint cottage nestled among towering trees. The air here is filled with the scent of freshly carved wood and wet clay. You push open the door and step inside.

The sculptor, a tall figure with delicate hands and piercing blue eyes, looks up from their workbench. "Ah, a visitor," they say, setting down a chisel. "What brings you here?"

"Mervyn's garden," you reply, glancing around at the half-finished sculptures lining the walls. "An earthquake destroyed several statues. We need replacements."

The sculptor nods thoughtfully, wiping their hands on a rag. "I heard about the quake. Nasty business." They move to a shelf filled with various tools and materials. "Which statues need replacing?"

You describe the shattered pieces—marble fauns, granite nymphs, and an intricate sundial that once stood at the garden's center. The sculptor listens intently, occasionally jotting down notes on a piece of parchment.

"I can recreate those," they say finally, rolling up their sleeves. "It will take some time, though."

"How long?" you ask.

"A few days for each piece," they reply. "Quality work can't be rushed."

You nod in agreement. "We appreciate your help."

The sculptor smiles faintly. "I'll get started right away." They gesture toward a corner where several finished sculptures stand waiting for delivery. "Feel free to take one of those as a temporary replacement."

You examine the offered pieces—a delicate stone birdbath, an elegant marble bench, and a whimsical fairy statue—and choose the bench. It feels solid under your touch, its surface smooth and cool.

"Thank you," you say as you lift it carefully, it's light weight surprising you.

"You're welcome," the sculptor replies, already turning back to their workbench.

You carry the bench back through the shifting landscape of the Dreaming. By the time you return to Mervyn’s garden, he has made significant progress in cleaning up the debris.

"Got us something to tide us over," you say, setting down the bench.

Mervyn inspects it with a critical eye but nods approvingly. "Not bad."

You both place it in a shady spot near a cluster of flowering bushes.

"It'll do for now," Mervyn says as he wipes his hands on his overalls again.

You find yourself in the palace kitchens, the warm air filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread and roasting meats. The staff dreams bustle about, their laughter and chatter creating a comforting hum. You lean against a worn wooden counter, taking a moment to catch your breath after the trek back from the sculptor’s workshop.

A plump dream with rosy cheeks and flour-dusted hands sidles up to you, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Heard you’ve been out and about," she says, her voice low.

You nod, glancing around to make sure no one else is listening. "Yeah, a bunch of the statues broke in Mervyn's garden."

The dream leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Speaking of gardens, did you hear about Lily and Jasper? They’ve been seen sneaking off together at night."

You raise an eyebrow. "Really? I thought Lily was still with Rowan."

The dream shakes her head vigorously. "Oh no, that ended weeks ago. Rowan’s been moping around the village ever since."

Another staff dream joins the conversation, carrying a tray of freshly peeled potatoes. "Lily and Jasper, huh? Makes sense. They always had a thing for each other. Dreams and Nightmares go hand in hand I suppose…"

"Well," you say, leaning in as well with a cheeky smile on your face, "I heard that Ivy's been spending a lot of time with the blacksmith."

The first dream gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. "No! Ivy and the blacksmith? That’s scandalous!"

You nod solemnly, enjoying the teenage like gossip. "Saw them myself near the forge last night. They looked pretty cozy."

The second dream laughs softly, setting down the tray of potatoes. "Guess everyone’s pairing up these days."

"Seems like it," you agree. "Great timing and all that with the realm newly restored."

A tall dream with a chef's hat approaches, wiping his hands on his apron. "What are you all whispering about?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Just catching up on village news," you reply casually.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Gossiping again? You lot never change." He heads back to his station but throws a wink over his shoulder.

You hear a soft clatter as the tall dream with the chef’s hat returns to his station, leaving you and the two staff dreams to continue your conversation. The warmth of the kitchen envelops you, the comforting smells mingling with the chatter.

"So, what are you going to do about the garden?" asks the first dream, her curiosity evident.

You shrug, leaning back against the counter. "We’ll get those new statues in a few days. Until then, it’s just a matter of keeping things tidy and hoping no more earthquakes hit."

The second dream nods thoughtfully, her eyes drifting toward a window where the golden light of the Dreaming filters through. "Strange how those quakes keep happening," she muses. "Almost like something’s trying to break through."

You glance at her, but she’s already moved on, picking up another tray and heading toward a bubbling pot. The first dream turns back to you, her expression more serious now.

"Do you think it has anything to do with Lord Morpheus?"

The mention of Morpheus sends a ripple through your thoughts. You’ve wondered about that yourself. But before you can respond, another figure enters the kitchen—Lucienne. Her presence commands an air of calm and authority.

"Hello everyone," she greets with a nod, her eyes scanning the room before settling on you. "I heard about the damage in Mervyn's garden. Are things under control?"

You nod, straightening up from your relaxed position. "Yes, we’ve got temporary replacements for some of the statues, and we’re working on getting new ones made."

Lucienne’s expression softens slightly. "Good to hear. We must maintain order in the Dreaming, especially now."

You sense an unspoken concern in her words but choose not to press further. Instead, you offer a reassuring smile. "We’re doing our best. But Luce? I think you might be trying to take on too much work, the library is already a massive job on its own now that its back to its former glory."

Lucienne’s lips twitch into a small smile, a rare sight that softens her usually serious demeanor. "Thank you for your concern. I'll manage, as always. In the mean time… Matthew, it is time you meet our resident dreamer."

A raven pops up from behind Lucienne, fluttering over to a chair back to perch. Your eyebrows rise when the bird gives you a wave with its wing.

"Hi, I'm Matthew," The bird says, making you blink repeatedly. Talking animals were not the strangest creatures you cross paths with but a talk bird was new to you.

You take a moment to absorb the introduction. The raven, perched comfortably on the back of a chair, regards you with keen, intelligent eyes.

"Nice to meet you, Matthew," you say, unsure of the protocol for greeting a talking bird.

"Same here," Matthew replies, his voice surprisingly warm. "Lucienne tells me you've been dealing with some garden troubles."

You nod, glancing at Lucienne. She watches the interaction with a pleased expression. "Yes, the earthquakes have been causing quite a mess."

Matthew ruffles his feathers slightly. "Yeah, those quakes are something else. They’ve got everyone on edge."

Lucienne steps forward, her demeanor shifting to one of quiet authority. "Matthew is Morpheus' new raven and companion. He assists our lord and can act as his eyes."

"Ah, great, so we've got the raven version of the palantíri?" You say dryly. Mattherw hops excitedly.

"Oh my god you've watched the Lord of the Rings!?" The bird cries in excitement. "None of the dreams or nightmares here have any clue about human sculpture.

"So uncivilized," You fake tut, much to the raven's chagrin as he nearly cackles himself to the floor. Matthew hops from the chair to your shoulder, his weight surprisingly light.

"So, what's the plan now?" he asks, peering at you with keen eyes."The boss told me to scram, not exact words but close enough, and I have no idea what to do so I think I'll hang with you."

"Come on, I'll show you what's going on and I'll tell you the plan," You say, departing the kitchen and heading for Mervyn's beloved garden. You reach the crumbling green space and the raven whistles in shock.

"We're just keeping things tidy until the new statues arrive," you reply. "Hopefully, no more earthquakes hit." As you finish explaining the plan to Matthew, the air around you shifts. A palpable stillness descends, and you know who it is even before you turn. Morpheus stands there, his presence dark and enigmatic as ever. His eyes, endless pools of night, lock onto yours.

Who had shit in his Wheaties this morning? You were half convinced the Endless has more mood swings than a human toddler.

You don't air out those thoughts. Obviously.

"I... require a word with you," he says, his voice like distant thunder. It's not a request. You nod, motioning for Matthew to stay put. The raven gives a low whistle but remains perched on your shoulder.

Morpheus glances at the garden, the chaos left in the wake of the earthquakes. "I have been... remiss in my duties as your lord," he begins, each word carefully chosen. "My recent behavior has been... less than considerate."

You study him, noting the slight tension in his jaw, the way his hands remain still by his sides as if he's holding something back. "It's fine," you reply, waving off his attempt at an apology. "More importantly, how are you holding up? I know things have been rough since—"

He cuts you off with a sharp look but softens almost immediately. "Your concern is misplaced," he says stiffly. "I am as I have always been."

You shake your head, stepping closer. "I don't believe that for a second. You were treated terribly, Morpheus. It would break anyone. Especially 106 years stuck in a cage." You don't have the heart to mention Jessamy. You also don't feel like incurring the Endless' wrath either.

For a moment, he seems taken aback, as if no one has dared speak to him like this in centuries. His expression shifts from one of stoic detachment to something more open, vulnerable even.

"You are... different," he murmurs almost to himself. "Few would concern themselves with my well-being."

"Well," you say with a shrug, trying to keep it light despite the gravity of the moment, "someone's got to look out for you too."

He is too hot and stupid to be left to his own devices in your opinion. Kind of like a pouting puppy even.

His gaze softens further, and something akin to warmth flickers in those dark eyes. He studies you intently as if seeing you for the first time.

"Thank you," he says finally, his voice low but sincere.

You offer a small smile in return. "Anytime."

Morpheus stands there for a moment longer before inclining his head slightly in acknowledgment. As he turns to leave, Matthew flutters from your shoulder to Morpheus' side.

The lord of dreams looks back at you one last time before they both disappear into the shifting landscape of the Dreaming. You take a deep breath and get back to work in the garden feeling oddly lighter despite everything that still needs fixing.

Date Published: 7/31/24

Last Edit: 7/31/24

Previous | Masterlist | Next

[seattlesellie]

anything but me; part 1 ♡

pairings: abby anderson x reader, ellie williams x reader

warnings: smut, angst!, mentions of marijuana, secret relationship

synopsis: you, abby, ellie and friends are in a cabin in the middle of a snowstorm. what could possibly ever go wrong?

The landscape, once familiar and inviting, transforms into a hostile and treacherous terrain.

It’s rapid, forming deep, unyielding drifts. it was a relentless onslaught, a tempestuous manifestation of nature's fury.

A snowstorm.

And then a warm, messy kiss, tongue pressing right on the pulse of your neck.

“We can’t-“ You whispered. Shallow breaths, your heart was racing like a runaway train. Pounding rhythm echoed in your ears, palms grew clammy, and beads of sweat formed on your forehead.

It was snowing outside.

And you felt like the middle of August.

“Why?” the blonde whispered, her minty breath caressing your temple. Her heart was beating just as fast, you could feel it against your chest. Her arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer and closer with every kiss. You had to break it off.

“Because-“ you whispered erratically. Fuck. She sucked the skin on your neck, suctioning it in between her plump lips. Your cunt was pulsing, she would have mocked you if she knew. “Already?” she’d say, a soft smile creeping on her face.

“Abby-“ you whimpered, as she brought her large hand to cup your clothed cunt. Did she just read your mind? She parted two of her fingers on the delicate spot, just like she spread you wide before divulging in with her tongue. Puffy pussy lips spread open, her favorite.

There was no time for teasing, or for mocking. She needed to fuck you right now.

“Ca- I cant- I cant” you whispered. You almost screeched when she softly patted your clothed cunt. You were ready for a slap.

“Yeah you can…” She grabbed your hair and pulled. “My best girl” she whispered, a glint of cockiness in her eyes. She knew what she was doing. Her praises always paralyzed you completely, completely fucking your brain’s capacity of understanding the outer world out of you. Her needy, nasty girl.

But you really couldn’t. Not right now.

It almost hurt when you had to peel her off of you, to slap her hand away from where you needed her the most.

She pouted. Abby pouted.

“I’m sorry… I- Ellie wanted to talk, she practically begged me to. I told her id come to her room at 10, It’s 10:05” you apologized, eyebrows furrowing in anguish.

“No- No-“ Abby kissed your cheek, trying to catch her breath.

“Don’t apologize, It’s okay, I promise.” She gave you a look, a look that said, I trust you. And you’re mine. And I know how bad you need me. Chivalry was alive and thriving. Ellie should take a masterclass, taught by Abby Anderson herself.

“I’ll be right here, yeah?” She whispered softly, planting a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. It drove you truly crazy sometimes, how a rough kiss was followed by a delicate one, a slap by a caress. Her good girl, and then her slut, her princess, and then her bitch.

“Mhm” you nodded, doe eyed. She hypnotized you. Dragging your feet, forcing them to walk away from her seemed like the worst thing you could ever imagine doing.

But you weren’t an asshole. You weren’t Ellie.

The cabin stood tall and sturdy, nestled amidst a winter wonderland, with its wooden exterior contrasting against the pristine white surroundings. You were dragging your feet, and god, the stickiness in your panties didn’t help.

You hesitated before reaching for the doorknob. With a creak, the door swung open.

“Hey” the auburn haired girl said dryly, as if she didn’t fidget with her fingernails while drawing aggressively just five minutes ago. She was trying to contain herself. Be normal. Just talk to her.

She was wearing a white tank top. It was snowing outside.

“Youre not… cold?” you asked, without even greeting her. You, the thoughtful person that you are.

“M’fine, I turned on the heater” She sniffed. She wasn’t fine, and the heater was definitely off. Her nose was red, eyes puffy, and god, that room smelled like Ellie. Your Ellie.

Was your Ellie.

Before entering her room, you decided you weren’t going to let her win this. See, Ellie had a habit of… dancing around important subjects. She was a master of distraction, knew exactly what to tell you, where to touch you, how to get you to crumble beneath her. She wasn’t evil, she never did it on purpose. The weight of her inner demons pressing upon her were a suffocating presence. They suffocated her, at first. Then, they creeped up on you too. She would yell, and demand you to stay quiet, to shut up. She would argue, and then ignore you, and then argue some more. She would scream at you to leave, and then beg you to let her in. You couldn’t do it anymore.

Thats why you left.

You didn’t know whether to sit or not, so you balanced your weight between your feet. You scratched your chin with your shoulder. Abby. Her scent lingered upon your skin. The cologne, like a silent caress, delicate pine, left an indelible mark upon your being. Your face flushed. Maybe Ellie’s room really was hot. Maybe she was right to wear that top.

You fixed your hair. Focus.

“What did you wanna talk to me about?” You questioned. Ellie was stood in front of you, avoiding your gaze. If she looked - she didnt know what she’d do.

“I don’t know” She said dryly, voice raspier than usual. It smelled like weed. She must have smoked before you entered.

“You don’t know?” you questioned. You tried to avoid rolling your eyes. It was so typical, so Ellie. Of course she didn’t know, she never fucking does.

“I- Can you sit down? Why are you acting like you don’t know me?” Ellie's voice sliced through the air with a tinge of annoyance, her words dripping with frustration. Every syllable carried a distinct edge, as if each letter resented being uttered.

She signaled you to sit on the bed.

You obliged.

She sat next to you, keeping the distance. Funny, how just a month ago, she would have begged you to sit on her lap. She would have pampered you with kisses. That was then, and this is now.

2 strangers.

You felt a lump forming down your throat. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

Ellie stared at the floor. She glanced over to you, and then shifted on the bed. The forrest green duvet emitted a soft rustle, like a gentle sigh escaping its fabric embrace.

She took a deep breath.

Thats what those Youtube videos taught her. “Meditation for beginners” was probably the worst one. “How to deal with anger issues”, yeah, she binge watched 7 of those videos.

“I wanted to ask you…”

You glanced at her. She was biting the inside of her lips, blood was forming. The taste of metal washed over her tongue.

“Fuck-“ She whispered.

“I need you to explain. I need to know why you left.”

your gaze froze, breath catching in your throat. Ellie's question pierced through your defenses, demanding an answer.

“I’m not doing this right now” you said, ready to get up and leave. It’s not like you didn’t expect it, but for some reason, you just couldn’t.

Ellie looked at you with disbelief. As you got up, halfway there, Ellie grabbed your hand forcefully. Before you knew it, you were sat back down on the bed. Your breath hitched. You should have walked away.

“I said I’m not doing this with you.” You made eye contact with her for the first time. Her eyebrows were scrunched, jaw clenched. Your Ellie.

“Are you not even going to apologize? I mean, fuck-“ Ellie's eyes narrowed, frustration burning within her. Her gaze intensified, her pupils dilated.

Apologize?

“Fuck- Apologize?” you laughed in disbelief.

“Holy fucking shit- Wow” you glared at her.

“You are un-fucking believable”

[moosereblogsfics]

a little something for soap and gaz i wrote with my pu that i wrote after watching challengers. it's horny it's a threesome what can i say. took “they should be at the club” a little too literally

warnings: minors dni! smut, threesome, soap x gaz, soap x reader, gaz x reader

Your skin feels fucking electric. Bass pumping through your blood vessels like it’s a second heartbeat, the heat of a hundred other bodies twisting in empty space all around you, the faint bitterness of alcohol sitting on the back of your tongue. You haven’t gone clubbing in a while, but something about tonight makes you think that it’s your night. 

You own this. 

Your hands flutter around the ends of your skirt, toying with the short hem as your body gets lost in the music. Music, sweat, alcohol, and you’re cast in a spell that’s dizzyingly intoxicating. You feel like you’re almost putting on a performance, one that’s watched simultaneously by no one and everyone. You allow your hands to trail the length of your body, your dress, teasing and tugging, hinting at something that nobody here will be able to get. You feel giddy at the thought, the control that it gifts you— everyone wants you, none can have you. The thought echoes around in your tipsy mind as your inhibitions fly into the past, and you lose yourself in a world where only you, the music, and the lights flashing above you exist. You’re that-fucking-bitch, and it’s time to get another drink in you. You stretch your hands above your head, moving slowly through the crush of people to get to the holy grail, the club bar that’s illuminated with LED lights that burn at your corneas. 

“‘Scuse me, sorry!” You shout as you pass a group of four men that seem to be towering over everyone else. Maybe it’s their heights, maybe it’s something else, but it’s almost… difficult to look away from them. They feel magnetic to you. Two in particular— a sturdy-built man with a mohawk, and the man standing next to him, with dark curly hair— seem to hold your glance as you squeeze between them and the crowd. 

Neat, manicured nails tap against the bar as you wait to catch the bartender’s attention— it’s taking so long that you’re debating just going back onto the dance floor empty handed when you feel a warmth encase you from behind. 

“Sorry,” A man’s voice rumbles in your ear, just loud enough to float above the din of beats and bass drops. “Jus’ needed to grab the bartender’s attention real quick.” His voice is smooth, and he sounds— what, British? You shift just a little, trying to ignore the way that the ebb and flow of the crowd pushes your body into his, allowing his hips to align with your body in a way that makes you feel confident he’s got something worth hiding under those clothes. 

“You can go after I flag him down, then,” You say, smiling at the bartender as he turns your way. You’re getting what you want, and this man’s just going to have to wait. 

“How’m I supposed to buy you a drink if you do it first, love?” He asks, and the offer makes you turn in surprise. The man behind you is one of the two that caught your gaze earlier, deep brown skin stretched taut over defined muscles that drew your gaze from a more-than-partially unbuttoned white shirt. 

“How presumptuous of you to assume that I want a drink from you,” You respond back, but your hands betray your goal, tracing his collarbone as his skin rippled with the reflection of strobe lights over a sheen of sweat. His teeth catch on his bottom lip as he gives you a smirk, hands finding your waist to pull you closer to him. 

“What’ll it be?” He says into your ear, hands tracing down to the tops of your hips. You’re distracted by a bead of sweat tracing lazily down his neck, by the radiant heat of his body. Something inside you is urging you to lick it, to push yourself closer to him and drag your tongue against his skin, to bite at his jaw. 

“Just a shot of tequila,” you reply. You fight at your sex-driven impulses, choosing to drag your nails lightly down the length of open skin on his chest. It’s hard for you to ignore the way his body responds with a shudder, and you smile coyly, dropping your hand before you reach the part of his shirt that’s buttoned up. 

“I’ll take a tequila shot for the lady, and two shots of whiskey,” He calls to the bartender behind you, lifting his arm away from your body to offer his card to the bartender. You take the chance to slip away from him, lingering nearby but allowing the distance to immerse you in the club’s atmosphere once more. Your heart pumps blood and desire as you drink in the man’s form, letting your eyes drift down to the sight of his ass in those jeans. When he realizes you’re missing, he turns in a near panic but relaxes at the sight of you, an easy smile flooding his face once more. 

“Your drink,” He says, holding the shot glass out to you, but you don’t reach your hand out in kind. 

“I’ll have your name first,” You respond. It’s hard to hear him, nearly shouting at him just to be heard over the music. 

“Kyle, and you?” He asks. You offer your name in response, before taking the shot glass and downing it in one go. A drop of tequila splashes onto your bottom lip, and Kyle’s thumb is quick to find it, bringing it to his mouth as you watch with a sharp inhale. His eyelids flutter shut as he presses his thumb to his tongue, and your breath quickens at the sight. 

“So, Kyle, are you from around here?” 

“We’re military. From a lot of places, and from nowhere at the same time.” 

“We? You talkin’ about the guys you came here with?” 

“Yeah, my mate actually wanted to chat you up instead, but I saw you, couldn’t resist,” Kyle says as he loops his arms around your waist. 

“What if I wanted him instead?” 

“Well, do you?” Kyle asks, dipping his head into your neck. His nose rests above your carotid as he breathes softly into your skin. 

“How can I decide that when I haven’t even seen him myself?” You ask, teetering between teasing and serious. Kyle is fucking delicious enough, you don’t need another man, but it’s too tempting to toy with him. You can feel his lips curve into a smile before he pulls away, drawing you into his gaze once more. 

“Why don’t you decide now? He’s coming this way.” The warning comes only seconds before you feel a second heat at your back, caging you between muscle, fat, and skin. 

“Awright ya?” A Scottish accent drawls from behind you, and you turn to face the newcomer. Kyle’s arms drop from around you. He’s just as handsome as Kyle, the man behind you, but in a different way. He’s fire, while Kyle is ice. It’s the mohawked man from earlier, Kyle’s “mate”. Neither of them are touching you but they’re so close you swear you can feel their heartbeats, in tune with the music, and you lean your head back on Kyle as the stranger moves in closer. Their hips frame you, hard bodies grinding into your own. 

Kyle’s hands start at your thighs, slowly stroking up while the stranger’s hands twist at the fabric at your waist. “An’ wha’s a pre’y bird like yerself doin’ out here?” The man asks you as his hands start to shift downwards. You’re not ignorant of Kyle’s hands opposing the movement, stroking up the insides of your thighs before ghosting over your pelvis and tracing your belly lightly. 

“Wondering what your name is,” You say with a smile. You allow your body to shift and shimmy to the beat, unbothered by their presences, like it’s a privilege that you’re even letting them touch you in the first place. 

“Johnny,” He replies as his hands gain purchase on your ass. You wonder if he can feel Kyle’s thighs, or the evidence of his attraction that presses firmly into you. Kyle’s hands continue their path until they rest just under your tits, a touch that’s only enough to be felt from over the fabric.

“So now that you’ve seen him,” Kyle asks from behind you, “which one of us do you want?”

You tilt your head backwards to look at him. One of Kyle’s hands flies to rest at the base of your throat naturally, like the prettiest necklace you’ve ever worn. You can see everything he’s thinking as it gleams in his eyes, desire undressed and open. All for you. Then you look back at Johnny, whose desire only seems to grow as he looks at the both of you. 

And then it clicks for you. Not Johnny, not Kyle, but Johnny and Kyle. 

You show your decision nonverbally, hands resting at the back of both of their throats as you tilt sideways. You approach Johnny first, lipstick staining his mouth as he devours you hungrily, stealing your breath and taking it as his. His open mouth entangles with yours, and you hum at the taste of him on your tongue. Then, you pull away. 

Kyle awaits you with a poorly-concealed eagerness. His mouth moves quickly against you, that same starved desperation that Johnny had making him twist his tongue against yours. Johnny’s tongue finds your neck, lining the tendons on your neck with a certain thirst that makes your spine electric with desire. You don’t miss the way that he moans ever-so-slightly at the taste of Johnny on your tongue, only solidifying your decision further. 

Both. 

You let them go abruptly to walk to the exit, turning and looking at them expectantly as they recover from their shock to follow you. You’re a siren, pulling at them and they can’t think anything of it. Yours to devour. 

~~~

The Uber to their place is quick, but rife with tension.  

“You ever do this before?” You ask as you lean by their door, Johnny fumbling with the keys as Kyle nips at your neck, hands roving over your body as you hold back moans. He keeps your body pressed into his and rolls your hips close, slowly grinding his bulge into you. 

“Wha’, same bird, same time? Nae— Tha’s nae fair, ye cannae star’ withou’ me!” Johnny complains as he throws the door open. Kyle’s quick to usher you in as they close the door behind you, pawing at your clothes before you bat at their hands and pull their mouths closer to you. They show just a heartbeat of hesitation before you urge them to kiss you in a tangled threeway, a messy dance of tongues and teeth. You pull away, but the two of them don’t stop— lost in passion, and desire. Johnny’s hands find Kyle’s necklaces, twisting into them as he steps closer to the other man. Their noses bend as they kiss, twisting their necks as they seek out more of one another. You watch them for a brief second as desire floods you, too, before tugging sharply at Johnny’s hair. He releases Kyle’s mouth with a gasp, eyelids shut as he moans open-mouthed at your action. 

“Don’t whine, Johnny,” you reprimand him, pinching his cheeks together before you spit in his mouth. He moans louder, and sticks his tongue out, as if asking for more. Kyle presses his tongue to Johnny’s quickly, catching your spit as it threatens to drip from Johnny’s tongue. “Good boys,” you coo, allowing your hands to trace gently at the nape of their necks before you let them go. “Can’t believe you’ve never done this before.” You push straight through them as they stand there, gasping for air. 

You seat yourself at the arm of their couch, spreading your thighs enticingly. The two men find themselves kneeling between your knees, pressing kisses to the insides of your knees. They look at you adoringly, like they’re competing for your attention. They’re not getting it. But it feels good, the way they mouth and shift further into the apex of your thighs. Johnny’s the first to bully his head below your skirt, pulling the lace of your gusset to the side to lap at your cunt. Kyle watches Johnny, transfixed, watches the way Johnny grips the back of your thighs and pulls you deeper into his mouth. 

“Kyle,” you half-moan as Johnny begins to suck at your clit. Johnny whines at the perceived dismissal, but he shifts to eating your cunt with a furiosity, nose bumping against your mound as his tongue dips into your hole. “Why don’t you be a good boy and take care of Johnny?” Kyle’s gaping mouth is an obvious tell of his shock and reluctance, but the darkening of his pupils betray his desire. You lean forward to thrust your thumb into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue. He lets your finger rest on his tongue as he leans into Johnny’s body, and you watch as Kyle’s hands trail along Johnny’s hips. “All that military training made you so obedient, didn’t it?” you praise him, watching the way his eyes squeeze shut as he finally grabs Johnny’s cock through the fabric. 

Johnny’s loud groan draws your attention away from Kyle, to the man who’s buried under your skirt. You tug at the hair of his mohawk sharply, pulling him away from your thighs as he gasps at the slight pain at his scalp. 

“Good boys share,” you say plainly, pushing him back so that Kyle can find his way between your thighs. Kyle lets go of Johnny in his haste to get to you, but the sharp click of your teeth makes both men freeze. “I didn’t say let go of Johnny, did I?” 

Kyle nods dazedly, placing one hand at your hip to stroke at your clit easier, before he turns to Johnny and begins to undo Johnny’s pants. Johnny helps him as he leans back to sit on his heels, transfixed by you like you’re some sort of angel. The thought makes you laugh. How sacrilegious. Kyle’s fingers sink into your cunt at the same time that he strokes at Johnny’s bared cock, and Johnny’s and your moans intermingle, choral in pleasure. You throw your head back as Kyle finds his way back to you, heat diffusing from his tongue and mouth into your skin. The initial shock wears off quickly, allowing you to watch Johnny’s reaction. He’s watching Kyle devour you, and you quickly tug the skirt further up your body, allowing Johnny to see Kyle eating your pussy like a man starved. He hisses through his teeth as he watches Kyle, knuckles turning white as he keeps his hands firmly planted on the floor. His restraint is tearing into him. 

“Johnny,” You coo, and Johnny’s head snaps to let him look you in the eyes. The power he gives you is intoxicating, and the tension builds in your spine as you breathe in the scene unfolding in Kyle and Johnny’s place. “Why don’t you show Kyle how you want him to stroke you?”

Kyle’s fist loosens around Johnny’s cock, but doesn’t let go— a fact that Johnny takes advantage of as his palm wraps around Kyle’s fist, tightening it the way he wants, stroking it faster. Kyle’s a fast learner, he manages the pace even when Johnny lets go to tug at his balls, squeezing and pulling. His face twists into obvious signs of pleasure, gasping and screwing his pretty face up. That’s enough, you think, and pull Kyle away from you by the nape of his neck. 

You stand, but they remain kneeling by your feet. They’re perfect, so well-trained that they won’t move a muscle without you telling them to. Hm. It’s too perfect of an opportunity, served on a fucking platter— you want them to figure out whatever it is they have going on. You sigh, tugging at your bottom lip with your index finger while you look down at them. Kyle’s still stroking lazily at Johnny, that desperate connection threading between the two of them. Honestly, you don’t even need to do anything. 

“Confess,” you say, looking at Johnny. His tongue darts between his teeth as he breathes hard. The effect of Kyle’s hand gripping his shaft is lost on nobody, but it’s fun to play this game. 

“Come on,” you coax, looking at Kyle now. “All those months away from people, from civilization, and you expect me to think nothing’s happened between you two?” 

Kyle answers your question with a nervous laugh, stuck in his throat as he coughs it out like an excuse. Johnny, however, is silent. He looks to you for salvation, and you know he’ll do it— he’ll confess. Your eyes narrow as you focus on the brunet, connecting him with him silently. There is no world apart from the three of you, the surroundings fading as you become his central focus. 

“I can hear ye,” Johnny says slowly. He’s talking to Kyle, but his eyes don’t leave yours. “When yer in the shower, and ye think yer alone. When yer—” Johnny breaks eye contact with you to look at Kyle, who’s now staring at him intently. “An’ I cannae help it, really, but I…” 

“You what?” Kyle asks him, leaning in to Johnny so that he’s almost an inch away from the Scottish man. A fool would think it was intimidation. But you know better. “You touch yourself the way I’m touchin’ you now?” 

You almost don’t want to breathe. The confession lingers between the two of them before Kyle’s eyes drop to Johnny’s lips, and he leans in, open-mouthed, to kiss the other man. 

Their kiss is different now. Hesitant, a kiss that follows once everything has been said. But it quickly deepens into more as Johnny paws at Kyle’s clothes. 

“Stand up,” You say sharply. Your voice cuts through their desire as they stand up, their quick breaths and swollen lips betraying the effects of their dizzying lust. You undo Kyle’s pants, tugging the clothing down to free his cock as you take both Johnny and Kyle into your hands. They’re quick to kiss along your jaw, face, shoulder, neck, before they return to kissing you, tongues tangling as you all get lost in the kiss. Johnny’s panting—or is that Kyle? as you steal each other’s breath, suffocating one another as you consume each other.

Kyle and Johnny move closer to one another almost gravitationally, until it’s difficult to fit both your arms between their bodies. They don’t leave you forgotten as their hands roam and squeeze at your ass, stroking and cupping your cunt through the soaked fabric of your panties. While you kiss them, you take both of their lengths into one hand, stroking them both in one fist. Kyle and Johnny both fall away from the kiss, allowing their heads to fall onto the others’ shoulders. Their fingers slip into your dripping cunt, curling as they heed the pursuit of your desire in addition to yours. Johnny’s thick fingers work in tandem with Kyle’s slender ones, stroking at your walls, thumbing at your cunt. Your pleasure is harmonious now, intricately entwined with the pleasure of the men before you. Their gasps and moans electrify your spine, blood roaring between your ears as white-out pleasure meets you. And as you find your release, so, too, do they, cum dripping down skin and scar on their torsos. 

They slump into you, exhausted, as their muscles relax. Their heads feel almost right like this, slotted into your neck as they catch their breaths. You bring your hand to their mouths, covered in their cum, and they carefully tongue off their release from your skin, moaning slightly at the taste of both of them combining on their tongues. 

And then you step forward between them, grabbing your purse from the barstools at their kitchen counter before you turn to them, rattling off a series of numbers in quick succession. 

“Call me,” you say with a smile, letting yourself out and laughing at the sound of scrambling from inside their apartment.

banner by @cafekitsune !!

[star-wrote]

nsfw alphabet : daryl dixon

ao3 link

character: Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

warnings: | nsfw(obviously) | swearing | sexual details | mentions of daryl’s trauma | intentional lowercase | 18+ |

a/n: recently became obsessed with this man. there aren’t enough nsfw alphabets of him so enjoy :)

(not my gif or character)

A- aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

daryl thinks the aftercare is the best part of it all. it took a while to break down the habit of him just rolling over and falling asleep, but he got there eventually. he holds you and makes sure you're okay, cleaning you up if necessary. he lets you curl up into him, wanting to feel your warm breath on his skin. you listen to each other’s heartbeats, and drift into an exhausted sleep.

B- body part (their favorite part of both of your bodies)

daryl dixon loves every part of you. he doesn’t say that his favorite are your tits or ass, that’s something merle would say, and it just doesn’t sit right with him. instead, he thinks that your eyes are his favorite part of you. he likes that he can communicate with you just through the looks you give each other. he loves that he has to ask you to keep them open and look at him when he's making you feel too good to do so.

your favorite part of daryl are his thighs. big, strong, and sturdy; the perfect seat. his thigh can fit perfectly between your legs, holding your hips with his giant hands. his hands. you suppose that they could also be your favorite.

C- cum (anything to do with it)

since it’s the apocalypse, you and daryl decide that it’s better to be safe and not cum inside you. even though it takes every ounce of his control not to. he opts for pulling out and humming on your stomach instead. but you better prepare for when he finds condoms on a run because he will fuck you like it’s your last time together. which, hey, it could be.

D- dirty secret (self explanatory)

other than wanting to cum inside you, daryl really wants to fuck you alone in the woods, up against a tree. he knows it’s not very practical, especially with the dead walking around. he just can’t help but thinking how hot it would be for you to try and be quiet as not to draw in any walkers. 

E- experience (do they know what they’re doing)

most of daryl’s experience came from random drunk hookups that merle pressured him into before the world ended. it involved dramatic moans from the women, and daryl being too stuck in his head to remember anything else. he was open to you teaching him what felt good, and picked up on it fast. as a hunter, he has always been observant, and that doesn’t leave when it comes to your pleasure. he watched every expression, and hears every hitch in your breath to learn what makes you feel good. he asks if you're liking it, which sounds like sinful dirty talk to you.

F- favorite position (self explanatory)

it started out being doggie style, because he just couldn't bear for you to look at him or his scars. but with some gentle begging from you, he decided that he couldn't bear for you to not look at him. missionary is now his favorite, because he can still control the situation, and see the pleasure in your eyes at the same time.

G- goofy (how serious are they)

daryl is obviously very serious when it comes to the outside world, which doesn’t really change when it comes to the bedroom. since you managed to relax him and get him comfortable enough around you to break his walls down, he lets little laughs and smiles come through at your jokes, but not without jokingly telling you to stop.

H- hair grooming habits (how much hair do they have down there)

it is the apocalypse, so grooming isn’t necessarily the most important. the carpet matches the drapes. plus he doesn’t expect you to shave, so why should he? in fact, when you did shave one time, he freaked out and begged you to never do it again(unless you wanted to of course), which warranted a sigh of relief from you. he says that only bitches eat shaved pussy.

I- intimacy (romantic or rough/dirty)

it was always hard for daryl to bring out his romantic side, but he tries so hard for you. he grunts out praises and a little “love ya s’much” when he cums, letting you know that you’re the only one on his mind. 

J- jack off (how often do they masturbate)

literally never. it isn’t very convenient, and he never really has a high sex drive. when he does get turned on, it’s because you’re right there. no point in taking care of it himself when you're in front of him.

K- kinks (self explanatory)

daryl never got a chance to explore his kinky side before the apocalypse since most of his experience was with women who he didn’t trust or love. when he started to trust you in the bedroom(or where the apocalypse allows), you both started to experiment with what you are into.

  -size kink: he loves when you look so small compared to him

  -daddy kink: this one felt weird to him at first since you were younger than him, but he couldn’t help the twitch in his dick when you called him that while you were cumming (it is definitely used more after that)

L- location (where they like to get it on)

anywhere that is safe and gives you time to explore each others bodies is his favorite. still, the idea of fucking you in the woods sounds hot to him...

M- motivation (what turns them on)

anytime he sees you taking down walkers, or just overall being badass, he gets a little turned on. also when you look at him with your big doe eyes, he has to control himself from taking you in front of everyone.

N- no (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

daryl isn't into hurting you in any way, especially because of what he went through in his childhood. he sees it as somehow becoming like his father, and that is something that he hates. so big no on hurting you, even if he does think you're pretty when you cry.

O- oral (do they prefer receiving or giving)

one of daryl’s favorite sights is you on your knees for him, with tears streaming down your face as you try and fit all of him in your mouth. however, that sight can't compare to how you look when he’s between your thighs. he thinks he must've died and gone to heaven when he sees your breasts rising and falling with each deep breath. the little tugs on his hair and the praise from your lips makes him decide that he loves going down on you more than anything.

P- pace (do they prefer fast or slow)

when he’s had a long day or just wants to get some anger out, he wants to go fast and rough. usually he goes slow and deep, just to feel all of you for as long as he can.

Q- quickie (do they like them)

quickies have become a must in some cases, especially if you don't have much time because you're on a run, or you have to get a round in before the group wakes up. he always makes sure to make every time you're together special, no matter how short.

R- risk (do they like to try new things)

he’s never been a risky guy, but if you suggested something to try, he would consider. as long as he knows you're safe, he is down for anything.

S- stamina (how many times and how long each round)

even though he’s older than you, his stamina is immaculate. even if he’s tired, he knows how to make you cum enough to tire you out.

T- toys (do they like using them)

since most things gathered on runs get checked, toys aren't really a priority. if you’re with him on a run, you two might find one and use it, but you don't dare bring it home with you. daryl likes to pleasure you by himself anyway.

U- unfair (how often do they tease)

such a tease. when he’s feeling especially cocky, he likes to have complete control over you, which includes controlling your orgasm. he will edge you for what feels like an eternity, just because he loves hearing your pretty voice beg all pathetically. 

V- volume (how loud are they)

he adapted to being very quiet because most of the time you were together were around the group, or outside where walkers could hear. his grunts, moans, and dirty talk start coming through when the group finds safety, or when you are on runs in a safer place. he definitely starts going on runs with you just to fuck you and hear your moans.

W- wild card (anything random)

daryl had never been one for talking, but when his dick is deep inside your wet pussy, he can’t help but spout the dirty thoughts that come to his mind. whether it’s praise, degradation, or the occasional swear, he knows it works you up from how you whimper and clench around him.

X- x-ray (what’s going on down there)

long and thick, a couple of prominent veins, and a slight upward curve. this man walks like he has a big dick.

Y- yearning (sex-drive level)

very very low before he met you, but now he wants to fuck you every night if able.

Z- zzz (how fast do they fall asleep)

maybe it was his body adapting to living on the run, or never getting good sleep as a kid, but daryl takes ages to fall asleep. having your body next to him helps, and he starts to feel safe enough to let his guard down and sleep. however, he does wrap a protective arm around you just in case <3