#fic: time was runnin' wild

[rae-lune]

A November with communication, and one without.

[blackenedsnow]

Heyy, if you’re comfortable doing so could I please get some Beetlejuice x fem!reader who’s a single mom? Just pretty much him being soft and comforting letting her know she’s doing a good job etc? Thank you in advance 💕💕💕 can be a proper fic or headcanons I’ll let you decide xx

beyond it

WARNING: References to the stress of single motherhood

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Single Mother! Reader

NOTE: I absolutely loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for the request 💕💕

SUMMARY: Beetlejuice surprises you by being a source of comfort, helping you see that you’re doing better than you give yourself credit for.

It was late—too late for you to still be up. But as a single mom, you didn’t have the luxury of falling into bed as soon as the day ended. No, there were dishes to clean, laundry to fold, and tomorrow to worry about. And of course, your child had woken up twice already, needing reassurance from a nightmare.

You were running on fumes, slumped on the couch, your face buried in your hands. It felt like all you ever did was work. Just when you thought you could finally close your eyes and sleep, your thoughts picked up again—worrying about what needed to be done tomorrow, whether you were doing enough, whether your child was okay.

“Hey, dollface, rough night?”

This fucking guy.

That voice—raspy, familiar—cut through the fog of exhaustion like nails on a chalkboard. Beetlejuice. You didn’t bother looking up. He was probably lounging in his usual spot, perched on the armrest of your couch with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

"Go away, BJ," you muttered half-heartedly. "Not tonight."

The ghoul groaned dramatically. "Aw, come on! And here I thought we were past the whole 'piss off, Beej' stage of our relationship." You felt a cold presence next to you, then his hand—decaying yet surprisingly gentle—lightly brushed your shoulder. "I mean, after all the times I’ve stuck around, don’t I get any appreciation?"

You exhaled sharply, finally lifting your head. "Appreciation? For what, exactly?"

"For being a goddamn delight, babes!" Beetlejuice beamed, leaning back against the couch and spreading his arms wide. "For hanging around when no one else does. Gotta say, not a lot of folks could handle a single mom with your level of stress."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile tugging at your lips. "If by 'hanging around,' you mean constantly being a nuisance, then yeah, sure."

Beetlejuice chuckled, his voice rough yet oddly soothing. His eyes, usually wild and manic, softened just a bit as they focused on you. “Ah, you love it. Don’t lie, babe.”

You shook your head, sinking deeper into the couch. "I’m just… tired, Beej. I'm really tired."

For once, he didn’t launch into another sarcastic quip. Instead, Beetlejuice shifted closer, his body language relaxed but attentive. “Yeah, I know. I can see it. You’ve been runnin' yourself ragged for, what, weeks? Months?”

Your eyes welled up, but you quickly blinked the tears away. “I just… I feel like I’m not doing enough. There’s always something I’m missing, something I should be doing better.”

Beetlejuice’s hand rested fully on your shoulder now, his touch surprisingly solid. "Oh, come on, you're killing it out here, babe. You think your kid’s got it bad? They've got you. And lemme tell ya, you’re doing a hell of a job. Better than most."

You glanced over at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Really? You think so?"

“Are you kidding? Babe, I see it. I see you juggling work, taking care of the kid, making sure they're happy. And yeah, it’s messy and chaotic, but guess what? They're fine. They're happy, ‘cause you’re busting your ass for 'em.” He leaned in a little closer, his expression for once free of mischief. “You’re doin' more than enough."

His words hit you hard, in a way you hadn’t expected. You didn’t know why, but hearing it from Beetlejuice—someone who you never thought would care about anything—meant something. It eased the tight knot that had been sitting in your chest all day.

“I just don’t want to mess them up,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “They deserve better than… than this.”

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, sweetheart." Beetlejuice’s voice softened. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “They've got you, and that’s more than enough. You’re not perfect—who the hell is?—but you're trying. And that's what matters. Trust me, when they grow up, they're gonna see that.���

You allowed yourself to lean into him, resting your head against his chest. His suit smelled like a mix of dirt and decay, but there was something oddly comforting about the way he held you, like he was actually trying to be there for you, to support you in his own weird way.

“Hey, tell you what,” he said, his voice low. “Next time you feel like crap, I’ll stick around. We’ll cause some shit together, huh? Might help take the edge off.”

You chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

Beetlejuice grinned, but it wasn’t the mischievous, cocky smirk you were used to. It was softer, almost tender. “You’re doin' good, doll. Don’t let anyone—including yourself—tell you otherwise.”

You looked up at him, and for the first time since he’d shown up in your life, you realized how much you appreciated him. Not just as the obnoxious ghost who wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, but as someone who—despite his crude humor and questionable ethics—actually cared. Maybe not in the typical way, but in a way that mattered.

"Thanks, Beej," you whispered, closing your eyes as you let the exhaustion finally catch up to you. "I mean it."

Beetlejuice stayed quiet for a moment, just holding you close. "Anytime, babe. Anytime."

[domesticgoddess22]

A night With Joel Miller

Dad's enemy!joel

Ao3 | masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings : dub-con, unprotected PIV, breeding kink, mild gun violence, dark!joel miller, raider!joel, deep throating, spanking, daddy kink, creampie, dom!Joel, dad's enemy!joel, praise kink, captivity word count: 4.1k summary: You're scavenging around an old CD store in Austin when the notorious Joel Miller catches you alone. Clickers swarm the street, so he takes you upstairs to hide out for the night. He says you were free to leave, but you stay and things get steamy.

a/n: This is my little one shot I posted to Ao3 awhile back. I've been considering making it a series once I finish some chapters of Wish Upon A Cowboy. Also this is the first time I've ever posted a fic on Tumblr so I hope I'm doing it right<3

~~~

You were always the adventurous type, always exploring, always curious. Never doing what you’re told and trading obedience for the sweet thrill of temptation. Your old man only caught you traversing through Austin by yourself a handful of times now. Those were the times you were lazy, slipped up a little, enough for someone in the faction to notice you were missing and rat you out. Your dad would send his guys after you like you were some fucking kid that couldn’t handle yourself out there. The other 300 times you did it, he had no idea you had even left your room.

Tonight was another one of those nights. 

You were on your way to an old CD store to see if you could scrap up something new to listen to. It was time to put Sweet Home Alabama to fucking rest and change up the tunes, and if you were lucky, maybe you’d find an old Nirvana CD still intact.

The beam of your flashlight reflected on what little shine the CD cases had left to offer, most of them dusty and scratched, tossed across the rubble like relics. 

The sound of a gun clicked behind your ears.

“Don’t move,” a low, smokey voice breathed into the shell of your ear. Instinctively, your arms shot up, palms facing outward. The Nirvana case crashed at your feet, fragments of plastic splintered this way and that. “Turn around. Slowly. ” 

You obeyed, heart hammering, blood pumping, eyes beginning to tear. When you do turn to face him, you’re blinded by a blaring flashlight pointed at you. 

“‘s just you here?” 

“Yes–yes it’s just me, I swear it.” 

“Ain’t it a bit dangerous for a little thing like you to be runnin’ around Austin…?” He aimed the light away so it’s pointed somewhere off to your left, scanning the room before his eyes lock back onto yours. “... Alone. ” 

You could see him more clearly now, tall, broad shoulders, face lined with stress, and eyes so cold, you’re sure he’d seen death more than you ever had. You were no match for him either, even with the revolver strapped to your ankle and a knife in your bra. He was too big. Too imposing. 

“I uh…” you swallowed the acidic bile creeping up your throat. “I like to live on the edge.”

“Mmm,” he licked his teeth, studying you. “That ain’t very smart. Lot more out here to be ‘fraid of than infected.”

He’s going to fucking kill you, isn’t he?

“My dad will raise hell if anythin’ happens to me.” 

“Your dad, huh?”

“Mhm. Old man is probably on a wild goose chase lookin’ for me as we speak.”

He chuckles darkly, “I ain’t scared of your daddy.”

“Look, man, I don't have much on me,” you plea, eyebrows knitted inward. Maybe he’d pity you and let you loose.

“Not much, but sounds like you got somethin’.”

“Got a granola bar.”

“Think your life is worth a granola bar?” He cocked his brow.

You rolled your eyes. “Got a revolver on my left ankle. Map in my back pocket with some marks where my dad hides his shit. Happy?”

His lips tugged into a smile that didn’t reflect in his eyes, “Atta girl.” 

In one flood motion, he binds your wrists together with one hand, tucking his gun back into his belt and then patting down your pant legs searching for weapons. When he reaches your ankles, he takes the revolver. 

“‘s only got one bullet,” he grumbled.

“Times are tough.” People are out there stealing your faction’s shit.

He straightens, your arms are pinned against your head now and his eyes are dark, boring into yours. His grip tightens and he steps closer, a greedy hand sliding into your back jean pocket, you wince at the feel of a man’s hand on your ass.

“Other pocket.”

He grabs your wrists with his left hand, letting his right hand explore your left pocket this time, his fingers grabbing the little paper you told him about.

“Easy, cowboy.” You drawl, eyelashes fluttering, eyes trailing up his washed-out green flannel. Up, up, up until they land on his wide chest. His thick shoulders. And then finally, his eyes, dark and matched with an expression so stern and sharp it could cut glass. 

His stare burns into you like he’s turning your flirtatious words repeatedly in his head. And then his gaze falls to your lips. The weight of his hand is hot on your waist now, even through layers of cotton, you can feel his heat in this late October cold.

There’s a distant sound of a soda can rolling down the pavement, knocking into rubble, and then feet shuffling.

“What was that?” 

The man looks over the shelves to see what you can’t at your height.

“Clickers. Come on.” He tugged you by the waist, guiding you to the back exit and up a flight of stairs. 

“Woah, where are we going?” You whispered harshly.

“You’d rather stay out here?” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and your gaze follows. There was a dozen clickers roaming around. How convenient. 

“If you give me my fucking gun back, yeah.”

“You got one bullet, kid. There’s fuckin’ ten of ‘em out there.” You step into an old apartment and the front door clicks behind you. He scopes out the rooms. “It’s clear. We can stay here for the night. If we gotta fight, better we do it in the daylight.” 

“I’m not stayin’ the night here with a stranger. Especially not a hunter. ” The word was thick on your tongue. Hunters were despicable people who stooped to the lowest of the low.

“By all means darlin’, you wanna test your luck, go right ahead. I ain’t stoppin’ you.” 

You scowled at that, but he was right. It seemed like you’d finally got yourself into a pickle, and despite your attempt to look calm and collected, you were scared shitless right now. Either you were going to spend the night with this random guy or try to dodge all the clickers and make it back home.

“Fine,” you rolled your shoulders in defeat. “But I’m not sleepin’. As soon as the sun comes up and the clickers disperse, I’m out.” 

“Don’t sleep then,” he murmured, looking through the cupboards and drawers for any remnants of the past.

“Still got that granola bar? ’m gettin’ pretty hungry.”

You threw the granola bar at his chest and he smirked, tearing the wrapper open.

“Thanks, Darlin’.”

“Not like you were gonna give me a choice.” 

Joel sat on the old couch and leaned back, arm propped against the back cushion. Legs spread. Brown eyes on you. He had removed his green flannel, exposing just a simple black tee barely holding onto his muscles. It took every ounce of sense in you to ignore how fucking good he looked. 

“Like what you see?” He said, a cocky grin on his face. Your eyes flicked elsewhere, dancing around the room to find something else to occupy your mind with.

“Don’t flatter yourself, old man.”

Arrogant son-of-a-bitch.

“What’s your deal?” he pried.  “You runnin’ away from your daddy or some’n?”

“Nah.”

“Then?”

“Just like goin’ out. Seein’ the world.”

He scoffed. “‘m surprised he lets you run ‘round Austin all by yourself.” 

“He doesn’t. Doesn’t think I can handle myself out here.”

The man cocked a brow, challenging you.

“I can handle myself. I’m twenty-seven years old.” 

“You wanna handle yourself, darlin’, you better scope out places before hangin’ out in ‘em,” he grumbled, chewing on the granola bar. He pointed the rest of it in your direction, nodding his head in a gesture for you to take the rest.

“You’re lettin’ me have the last bite?”

“Take it, ‘fore I change my mind.”

You snatched it from him. “Did ya finally learn you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar?”

“You sayin’ I won you over, sweet thing?”

“Not a chance. I still don’t trust you.”

“Probably for the best.”

“That so?”

“I ain’t really a good guy.”

“Yeah, I gathered that. You robbed an innocent girl, nearly killin’ over a damn granola bar and a half-empty revolver. Swell guy.”

“Hey, you woulda been dead without me.” He sat forward with his elbows on his knees and pointed a finger at you. “Clickers woulda chased after your dumb ass, loud as you were with those old CD cases and whatnot.”

“Whatever,” you slumped into the armchair across from him. “Wouldn't of made noise and dropped Nirvana if you hadn't surprised me.”

“Nirvana ain’t worth dyin’ over, kid.”

“Then what is?”

“Som’ else.”

“Go on,” you waved your hand, urging him to enlighten you on what he considers music worth dying for.

“The Eagles. If I see you again after this, I’ll give ya a listen. Got a few CDs of my own.”

“Okie dokie, random hunter dude that robbed me.” Because intentionally hanging out with a hunter sounded like a smart plan.

“Joel,” he leaned back against the cushion again.

Your blood was ice in your veins.

“What?” 

“My name. It’s Joel.” Your eyes were still wide in shock as Joel shook his head, tossing his hands like what don’t you understand?

“As in… Joel Miller?”

“Yeah?”

Joel fucking Miller.

This whole time you’ve been with the heartless hunter your dad cursed daily. 

Now that you could put a face to the name, it was hard to believe he looked so attractive. With the way your dad talked about him, you imagined Joel as an ugly troll.

“My dad would have a heart attack if he knew I was with you right now. He hates your guts, ya know.”

“Your dad? You’ll need to fill me in, sweetheart, I got a lotta guys that hate me.”

You tell him about your dad and watch the way Joel’s head nodded slowly in recognition.

“He’s had it out for me ‘n my guys for some time now. Can’t say I blame ‘im.” His eyes shifted to the left in thought, probably flashing back to the terrible things he’s done, and then his brown orbs fell back on you. “If I’m rememberin’ right, you must be…”

He tastes your name on his lips with a southern drawl as sweet as tea. 

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I know a lotta ‘bout your faction. Stole from ya ‘nuff times.” 

“Lovely.”

“Gotta survive, baby. Ain’t got somebody to do the dirty work for me like you do.”

“And what are you implyin’?”

“‘m just sayin’. And you’re dad ‘n I ain’t so different. Just survivin’ the best way we know how. Only difference is, he probably does what he does to protect you. I do what I do just… ‘cuz. ”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Pretend you know anythin’ about me or my old man.”

“I don’t have to pretend. You’re an open book, darlin’,” he says with that same damn smirk on his face.

“Nah, I’m not,” you fold your arms across your chest and turn your gaze to the world outside the window. Below is a congregation of clickers on the road, confirmation that you were trapped alone with this man for the evening. 

The couch creaks when Joel stands, a divet in the old cushion left behind in his absence. He steps toward you, his belt buckle a few inches from your face. Saliva builds in your mouth and you swallow. Hard.

Rough fingers grip your chin, tilting your head upward to look into the dark eyes that gaze down upon you. 

“You look like you’ve been cravin’ some fun. Daddy’s been keepin’ you cooped up, ain’t he?” He exhales, a whiskey aroma riding the small breeze from his lips all the way to yours.

There’s an ache between your legs and your cheeks feel hot with shame. Your pulse quickened, and Joel fucking knew it. He could feel it. 

You had two options: deny it and look away, or embrace the thrill.

“Joel… What are you…” Your voice trailed off and you look bewildered, but your hand finds a place on his thigh. The denim feels hot on your palm.

“I can help you with that. Make you feel good.” He’s leaning down now, his breath on your lips. “Anybody ever made you feel good before?”

“N-No one,” you stutter, glossing over the memories of one of the guys from your faction. You were both young, inexperienced. It was nothing but a night of experimentation and pain, and then it never happened again.

Joel nodded slowly, releasing his grip on your chin and then moving back to the couch, eyes dark, right arm relaxed along the backside of the seat, left hand lifting two fingers that gesture for you to come hither.

If you were being fucking honest, the attraction began the second he pat you down and only deepened when you found out who he was. It felt like a dangerous thrill knowing you were with the very man your father would forbid you to be near.

“Come’re,” Joel pat his lap.

Without batting your eyes, without even thinking twice, you obeyed. You found a spot on his thigh, thick enough for you to have ample space to sit.

The gray bristles in his beard were more noticeable up close. You guessed he was in his mid to late 40s. He slowly tugged your jeans off and tossed them on the floor.

Joel’s palm rested on your naked thigh, kneading into your skin with his face buried in your neck, licking and biting and licking again, growing increasingly heady with each one until he was sucking on your neck so hard you could feel it turn purple. Then his fingers brushed the fabric of your panties and you squealed from the sudden contact.

“You okay, sweet thing? He breathed into your hair.

“I’m nervous.”

“‘S okay,’ his voice was a low whisper into your clavicle, followed by soft kisses on the side of your neck. “Why are ya nervous?”

“Um… just shy, I guess… Never done this much.”

He groaned when the tips of his fingers felt your dripping heat. “Fuck–you’re so wet.”

Eyes lidded with lust and back arched to give him more access, you start to grind on his hand. Moaning at his touch,  the wet heat that pools between your legs and soaks his hand, the way his fingers caress your folds in a circular motion.

“Good girl.”

The praise sent a tingling feeling through your core.

You were a good girl for him.

He rubbed your little bud more furiously now, picking up the pace and then he slid a thick digit into your slick. You bit your lip to stifle the moans that came in uncontrollable tidal waves as he pumped his finger in and out, in and out, in and out.

Just when you think you’re going to reach your peak, he firmly grips your waist on either side, lifting your ass until you crash down onto the seat of the cushion. His lips were on your pussy, before the two of you ever even kissed, you noted. He groaned the second his tongue glided across your wet slit, and the sound vibrates against your soft lips.

“Couldn’t resist… Baby… Fuck–Taste so fuckin’ sweet.” He babbled into your dripping lips, the stone-cold man from earlier was long gone, and now in his stead was a man drunk with lust. He was melting from your pheromones, your scent, your wetness. It felt good to know that you had that effect on him.

Joel bucked his hips into the couch with each lick and suck, growing more sporadic and sloppy in his rhythm. You weren’t an expert in the matters of men in the bedroom, but he clearly wasn’t going to hang on much longer–that much you knew. 

A rough hand cupped your mound and then toyed with your sensitive nipple. He pumped his finger back into you, his tongue still keeping the pressure on your bud. Joel slid in another finger, and then another until three of his thick digits are stretching you to the brim, viciously fucking into you until you were screaming his name and begging him for more. He conceded, guiding you to the sweet bliss of the finish line. 

Your chest was heaving, forehead tacky, and eyes planted on the popcorn ceiling above you as you came to. Two blinks later, the sound of a zipper snapped you out of your daze and you shifted your gaze to the space between your spread legs.

Joel had his cock out, thick and angry, veins pulsing. 

He was huge.  

Your mouth watered at the sight of it as you watched him jerk himself off to your body. 

You got on your knees, bending to show him the nice curve of your backside, face now inches away from his cock. He lets go as you place a hand on his jean pocket and steady yourself, and then he plunges into your mouth. 

Joel’s hands snaked through your hair and latched onto the backside of your head, pumping his cock into the back of your throat in five relentless thrusts. You choked from the sudden penetration and he quickly pulled out, his head sliding out of your lips with a “pop.”

“Too much?”

“No.” You wiped the string of saliva that connected you to him. “I like it.” And you liked that as cold and mean as he played off, he cared about whether or not he was hurting you.

His eyes went dark and there was a ghost of a smile pulled at his lips in satisfaction. And then his cock was sliding past your lips again and gliding against your tongue. You rolled your tongue around and suck him in as far as you could. He groaned, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“Ain’t gonna last long. Got me… all wound up.”

You moaned affectionately as he picked up the pace, thrusting and groaning, mumbling profanities. You even swore he said your name as his hot cream pumped into your mouth. 

Hands now pressed to his lower back for support, he was so deep that his balls were pressed to your chin and you felt him straining to release every drop. You realize that his gun, and yours, are tucked into his belt right by your hands. When he settled, you leaned back, swallowed, and licked your finger.

“You look so sexy right now,” he said, voice deep and gravelly, thick with the aftermath of sex.

You’d never felt this sexy before. Hair disheveled, naked ass resting on the back of your ankles, T-shirt barely covering your womanhood but leaving just enough to the imagination, and your breasts peeking out of the V.

Joel bent down until his body was completely imposing yours, caging you in. Your brows caved inward, looking up at him doe-eyed and uncertain of what he planned to do next. He wrapped one around your waist, pulling you into his embrace while his other hand creeps across your neck. 

He surprised you with an intimate kiss. It was romantic, demanding, and dangerous. Joel commanded your tongue to dance with his, exploring your mouth with fervor like he belonged there. 

“Turn around. Face down. Ass up,” he says in a husky whisper. You look up at him wide-eyed. “Now.” He commanded.

“Yes, daddy.” 

Ass up, just like he asked, he slapped your asscheek. You felt his chest against your back and his breath on the shell of your ear.

“This might hurt a little, just be a good girl for me, okay?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded eagerly.

“What was that? ” He said through clenched teeth.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Atta girl.” 

He slapped your ass again. The head of his cock was jabbing at your entrance, pulsing with desire. He bucked it in his hand and lined it up to your slit and pressed in. Hard.

“Fuuuuuck.” He groaned and you screamed in an odd mixture of pain and pleasure.

He was so big he nearly ripped you in two, yet the way you wrapped tightly around him, sucking him in felt so right. The wetness of his tongue glided up your back and along the side of your neck.

There was a little bit of relief as he pulled his cock out, but then he thrust back in, his balls slapping against your lips so deep it had you seeing stars. Rinse and repeat. In and out, in and out.

His thrusts were angry and unrelenting.

The way he twisted your nipple and squeezed your tit was downright cruel.

You were putty in Joel’s hands and he fucking knew it.

“Please. More. Please, please, please.” The voice that left your lips was hoarse and desperate but you needed it. You needed him.

At the back of your neck, you felt the weight of his calloused palm pinning you down. 

“Such a tight little thing. Fuckin’ mine.” He grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eye. “You got that? Say it.”

“I’m yours, Joel.”

Somehow, his cock pulsed and stretched you even more to the brim. The feel of your slick mixed with his juice was oozing out of you, trickling down your leg.

One hand still pinning you down, Joel’s other hand was now petting your swollen heat. 

“Fuck, baby, I ain’t gonna hold out much longer. You’re so good to me. So tight. ‘m gonna cum in this wet pussy.”

“Joel, I’m gonna cum…” You trailed off, but you were already on the edge. His fingers were rubbing you at just the right speed, and his dirty sweet nothings were setting you ablaze. 

He continued to rub and thrust at just the right angle, the squelching sound of his cock pumping in and out of your sex only further heightened your arousal. 

In the heat of the moment, you didn’t even care that Joel was on the brink of filling you with his seed. You were dazed, delirious, and desperate. The three dangerous Ds, because condoms and birth control were a thing of the past. The apocalypse was a gamble for those who wanted to partake in life’s good old-fashioned pleasures.

You were ready to take that risk for the brief moment of pleasure because Joel had you wrapped around his finger and you were ready to swallow his seed. Hell, your unhinged state didn’t even care if you got pregnant with his baby as he sloppily slammed his cock into you, groaning and threatening to cum inside you. 

He didn’t seem to care either.

“H-Harder.” You beg, and that was it. That’s what set him over the edge, pouring into you like an explosion of white-hot milk and screaming profanities. He rubbed your clit while he rode his high, and then you came together, jaws slack, eyes rolled. 

Two people who, for a brief moment in time, could indulge in the comfort of each other’s bodies and forget that the world had gone to shit.

Joel flipped you over, his cock still buried inside of you, and leaned down to kiss you. It was a gentle kiss this time. The kiss of a lover. 

There was an undeniable spark between you that transcended beyond a mere one-night stand. Neither of you spoke a word of it. Instead, you fell asleep in his arms, and with his cock going limp inside you.

—------------

“Good morning, Joel.” You pointed two guns at the man as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

When he made sense of the situation, he chuckled darkly, wiping his face with his hands.

“Oh, darlin’, you are full of surprises ain’t ya?” His chocolate-brown eyes landed on yours and you felt your heart skip a beat, your grip on both guns loosened in a moment of weakness.

“Told ya I know how to take care of myself.”

“I can see that.” He put his arms behind his head, looking far too relaxed for a man who had two bullets aimed at him. “Did your daddy send you out to do this?”

You smirked, eyes flicking over to the old map that you made sure to leave on the table.

“I’m not gonna shoot you. Just wanted to say goodbye.” 

He licked his teeth and nodded.

“See ya, cowboy.”

And then you left him there and something tugged at you to stay but you didn’t, because you knew that it would be the death of you if you did.

“You want to tell me why the fuck you have Joel Miller’s gun?” your dad asked when you made it back to the base.

Dad had found out you left and had his guys check you for bites. When they did, they found the gun marked with an ‘M’, which was something Joel did to all of his weapons. Weapons that he stole.

“I was just helping us out a little, Dad.”

[tgmsunmontue]

Get your motor runnin' - 1/6

Bradley, a bit of a (very talented) grease monkey and Jake, who has been sent to see him because he's apparently the best mechanic Maverick knows.

A longer fleshed out fic at the request of @poetryandpickles based on their idea in this post. Likely going to be 3-4 parts and likely an excuse for lots of smut. Just as an FYI.

PART ONE

                It’s been a busy week but he’s managed to clear the bulk of the work, ordered parts actually arriving early or on time like some damned miracle. He’s managed to get people’s vehicles back to them before they expected, which always makes for happy customers. He has a loyal base, and he knows they recommend him wider afield. It keeps him busy and the bills paid. He likes it, positioned in the small area of Oak Hills. Close enough to both China Lake and North Island to enable visiting if he feels like it but not close enough that anyone can just pop in. Not that that stops Mav, but he suspects he could live in another country and Mav would still find a way of turning up unannounced.

                He hadn’t intended to become a mechanic, but he had sort of fallen into it. Time tinkering on cars with Mav and his struggle to remain focussed in the classroom had meant when he’d raised the idea of entering an apprenticeship with a diesel mechanic Mav had been incredibly supportive. After insisting he get his GED. That had been the incentive he’d needed to act, and then he’d finished up and entered his first year. He’d worked hard, and it had paid off, his boss involving him in more and more challenging jobs and Bradley grew into someone that could often tell what was wrong just by listening to the engine.

                Then he’d been encouraged to undertake further study, which he’d balked at, because study. But then learning about auto electrical work tied in so nicely with what he was already doing it didn’t even seem like study, simply common sense and he’d become the best damned mechanic Robbie had working for him, a fact he’d been proud of. Then he’d decided to start up his own business, sat down with Mav and Ice and talked about his parents’ house and life insurance and then they’d agreed. Robbie had a friend that was selling up and now he’s been here four years, and he thinks the locals might actually start calling him a local too soon. Any day now.

…            …            …

                Jake’s not sure why he’s driven all the way out here, he’s driven past three other mechanics on the way to this garage and it’s only because Maverick had recommended this place that he’d kept the address in his GPS and followed it out here. For nearly two fucking hours. Who drives a dodgy car two hours to get to the mechanic? He’s hot and tired, the air conditioning unit in his car broken, well, not broken but it’s leaking something Jake doesn’t want to look too closely at but which he hopes is water. The trunk of his car now fills up with water when it rains, which had been an incredibly unpleasant surprise to find when he returned from his most recent deployment. He likes water, but he doesn’t need or want it in his car.

                He pulls down a dusty road and looks around, a little worried suddenly that Maverick has sent him on a wild goose chase and he’s going to end up the next victim of a mass murderer. But no, there it is, a large shed with four roller doors, all open in deference to the summer heat. There’s two different types of tow trucks parked up out front, one looking large enough to tow a truck, and there’s also large earth moving equipment parked up and he wonders if he’s in the right place. Then he spies it, the sign declaring it as Bradshaw’s, and that’s who Mav had sent him to see. The best mechanic he knew, apparently, which Jake considers high praise coming from someone like Maverick Mitchell. He parks up and gets out, leaves the door open just in case he needs to run and make a fast get away; heads inside toward where he can music coming from a radio, Meat Loaf singing about love.

                “Hello?”

                He can see a body under an old van and he walks closer, repeats his greeting and hopes the guy isn’t too old. He doesn’t want to give him a heart attack or something. Then the creeper is coming from out beneath the beaten-up van and it’s legs legs legs and for fucks sake, who needs legs that long? This guy apparently, and the legs are clothed in grease-stained coveralls, but they’re tied around the guy’s waist, which is now appearing, and he’s wearing a threadbare white tank, and it’s damp with sweat, so damp Jake can see fucking nipples. He’s seen porn that starts like this.

                He swallows roughly, takes in the broad chest, arms, muscles and shoulders all appearing like he’s watching in slow motion and okay, the long legs make more sense now if they have to carry all that around. He thought that he might cause a heart attack but now he’s starting to wonder if he’s going to have one instead. He wasn’t expecting this. He’d been expecting someone Maverick’s age, or older. Jesus. He thinks the heat might be getting to him, because it suddenly feels much hotter than it was a few minutes ago.

                “Can I help you?” the guy asks, and he’s just lying there looking up at Jake, not even bothering to stand although he has raised his head a little and Jake can see his abdominal muscles and he was not prepared for this.

                “I’m,” he coughs to clear his throat, which is of course as dry as the desert. “I’m looking for Bradshaw?”

                “You found him. How can I help?” the apparent Bradshaw repeats, and he’s bracing and rolling off the creeper, coming to a stand in front of Jake, wiping his hands on a cloth pulled from his back pocket and Jake doesn’t know if it’s helped remove anything or just smeared it around some more.

                “I, uh. My car’s got some issues. My CO, uh, commanding officer, he said you were the best mechanic he knew.”

                “Of course he did.”

                “Do you know him?”

                “Maverick? Yeah, you could say that.”

                Jake is surprised he guesses right, then again he supposes some people would consider knowing Maverick a bad thing, and this man looks a little resigned and he wonders exactly what this guy has done to earn Maverick’s high level of admiration, because he’s never met a man harder to please.

                “So he sent you here, without calling first to check to see if I had time to work on it. Do you have another ride, or a place to stay?”

                “Uh…” Jake blinks. He hadn’t thought of any of that, and he’s two hours away from his base accommodation in North Island. “Shit.”

                “Let me take a look. Might be able to get her fixed up straight away and get you back on the road.”

                If he can do that, then he really is the best mechanic.

PART TWO

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @shallow-gravy @direwombat @strangefable @inafieldofdaisies @cassietrn @chazz-anova @josephslittledeputy @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @adelaidedrubman @voidika @onehornedbeast @thewanderer-000 @corvosattano @derelictheretic @ec-10 @carlosoliveiraa @minilev @nightbloodbix @purplehairsecretlair @vampireninjabunnies-blog @strafethesesinners @josephseedisdaddy @neverthesameneveranother @a-rose-in-a-garden-of-weeds @snake-in-the-garden @henbased and @ladyoriza

As usual three songs for three stories/characters/themes below.

First song up is for Abigail Emmet, the mother of Mario, and just as much as a terrifying alien soul-and-meat-eating shapeshifter as he is. She's been around for a while, even hitching with the Van der Linde Gang as the third founding (adult) member, sticking with it until she and Molly got the hell out of there after witnessing the effect Hosea's death had on Dutch and Micah being a rat. Saddening that Abigail outlived Molly (given her alien origins), but she never once stopped thinking fondly about the O'Shea poet, even when raising Mario. This song absolutely details her longing for Molly, while also letting go for the sake of Mario.

"Lately, I've been waking up In a dreamy state, calling your name Stayed up too late just thinking of you Now I'm knocking on every door 'Cause I heard you moved from twenty-two Has it been that long? I guess time just flew

I've got voices in my head and there's a deafening silence I've got voices in my head and I can't lie

I've been holding on to pieces Swimming in the deep end Tryna find my way back to you 'cause I'm needing A little bit of love A little bit of love, I need a little love Just like the air I'm breathing These open wounds ain't healing Tryna find my way back to you 'cause I'm needing A little bit of love A little bit of love, a little bit of love A little bit of love

I tried to fly but I used my wings too soon Now everything got me thinking of you I tried a million times to cut you loose."

Next up, a song for Silva's Hope and maybe a bit of Old Dusk, the two main stories for Silva in Far Cry The Silver Chronicles. I think it just fits the religious themes found in the fics' and the game, but also twisting it to reveal the darker and lighter aspects that not only come off as seductive but reveal what's exactly underneath the surface of the Voice's Prophecy and the Collapse, and whether it's better to choose the safer path and obey the prophecy while risking loss of identity and restricted by extremely controlling expectations that are unrealistic or take the risk and step out of the status quo for the sake of having the freedom to choose and to defy a fate other's push onto themselves and their neighbors, all the while having to contend with the possibility of being lost in the unknown.

"Call me wild, drinkin' up the sunshine Be my man and show me what it feels like Denim sky, unbuttoned down the middle Spillin' out little by little

Tiger on the prowl East of Eden Comin' for you now

Keep me from the cages under the control Runnin' in the dark to find east of Eden Keep me from the cages under the control Runnin' in the dark to find east of Eden

To find east of Eden (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) To find east of Eden (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) To find east of Eden (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) To find east of Eden (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)

If I wanted to stay You don't mind, you're a true believer (True believer) Take it up with the badlands Creep on in like a concrete fever

If I wanted to stay You don't mind, you're a true believer (True believer) Take it up with the badlands Creep on in like a concrete fever."

And finally something for the antagonists. Ranging from the charming yet arrogant Edward Carmine to the callous and controlling Zachariah from The UnTitledverse. From the hypocritical monster that is Father Adam Omar to the fatalistic pessimism that fuels Paul Yellowjack's miserable self-loathing in Far Cry The Silver Chronicles. From the Court King who wants to conquer his worlds back, to the Director of the Midnight Rise, Sir Enigma Malvolio, who brings despair wherever his expeditions take him throughout Life, Despair & Monsters. From the well-meaning extremist Xiang Ba'al to the Mad God of Carnage himself, Discord in the originals works that will diverge from Wings And Horns. There are many more of interest, but the list is as tall as the rest of my original characters. But one commonality can be found with these characters... a question that evades an answer... will they ever be satisfied after reaching their goals? Or... will they go further until they've crashed and burned?

ALSO! TW: There is brief mention of suicidal idealization in one verse with probably more mature themes hidden in the lyrics. Just putting it out there to be weary listening and reading.

"I was pulling out my hair The day I got the deal Chemically calm Was I meant to feel happy That my life was just about to change?

One life pretending to be The cat who got the cream Oh, everybody said, "Marina is a dreamer" People like to tell you what you're gonna be It's not my problem if you don't see what I see And I do not give a damn if you don't believe

My problem, it's my problem that I never am happy It's my problem, it's my problem on how fast I will succeed

Are you satisfied with an average life? Do I need to lie to make my way in life?

High achiever, don't you see? Baby, nothing comes for free They say I'm a control freak Driven by a greed to succeed Nobody can stop me

'Cause it's my problem if I wanna pack up and run away It's my business if I feel the need to smoke and drink and sway It's my problem, it's my problem if I feel the need to hide And it's my problem if I have no friends and feel I want to die

Are you satisfied with an average life? Do I need to lie to make my way in life? Are you satisfied with an easy ride? Once you cross the line, will you be satisfied?

Sad inside, in this life Unsatisfied, praying Sad inside, in this life Unsatisfied, waiting

Are you satisfied with an average life? Do I need to lie to make my way in life? Are you satisfied with an easy ride? Once you cross the line, will you be satisfied?

Black, white (Are you satisfied, are you satisfied? Are you satisfied?) Are you satisfied? Black, white (Are you satisfied, are you satisfied?) Black, white (Are you satisfied, are you satisfied?) Are you satisfied? Black, white."

[afterdarkprincess]

Mine

Pairing: Seth Rollins/Dean Ambrose Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2083 AO3 Link Look at that a finished WIP! This one is just pure unadulterated filth, enjoy at your own discretion 18+ only!!

tag squad: @feelschicken @elementaldoughnut12 @jeysbvck @southerngirl41 @harmshake @imabillyami

This fic is Explicit and contains: Rough Sex, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Fingering, Spit as Lube, Hair Pulling, Slut Shaming, Toxic Relationship (full list on AO3)

----

Seth’s lounging in his personal dressing room backstage, scrolling through his twitter feed, eating up the reactions to his appearance at the end of Smackdown tonight.

He’s still in the tight red leather pants, his legs kicked up on the edge of the couch when there comes a loud demanding knock at the door.

“Go away asshole!” He yells distractedly over his shoulder, uncaring for whoever might be trying to disturb his peace at this time of night. Anybody he gives a shit about has already headed out, and he’s not far behind himself.

The knocks stop and Seth thinks he’s in the clear, but the door busts open with a loud bang, and Seth’s on his feet ready for a fight until he gets a good look at the figure standing in the doorway.

Dean Ambrose, eyes wild and angry and staring holes into Seth’s face.

Seth’s heartbeat roars in his ears as a tidal wave of emotion rolls over him. Excitement, relief, guilt, love, anger from all the years of their tumultuous relationship. Seth will never be free of Dean Ambrose and if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t really want to be.

“Dean…” Seth barely breathes his name before he’s storming into the room, slamming the door shut before his hands are at Seth’s throat, pushing him back against the wall roughly.

The sound that escapes his throat is breathy and pathetic, Seth would be ashamed of himself if not for the growing pressure against his windpipe that mirrors the swell of his dick in his pants.

“The fuck you think you’ve been doin’ huh pretty boy?” His breath is hot against Seth’s cheek, and lingering smell of cigarette smoke clouds his senses. “You forget who you belong to? You think I wouldn’t notice you’ve been whoring around?”

Seth shakes his head as best he can with Dean’s hands restricting his movement. “N-no, no-“

“Liar,” Dean licks the sweat from Seth’s brow. “Partnering with Cody Rhodes, runnin’ around actin’ like his little bitch, like you won’t turn on him the second it’s convenient for you.”

“Dean, please-“ He’s fully hard and aching and unsure what he’s even begging for at this point.

His free hand grabs at Seth’s face, roughly squeezing his cheeks. “Doesn’t Rhodes know by now that sluts like you are only good for a warm hole to fuck? How many times have you taken his cock princess?”

Seth’s instinct is to lie and deny everything, but no way that Dean wouldn’t know, and the punishment for lying would be brutal. The three small scars on his ribs, perfect circles the size of a Marlboro serve as a reminder of what good it does lying to Dean Ambrose.

“Ahh, Twice…just twice,” His vision is getting fuzzy and it hurts to speak, and he gasps loudly as finally Dean releases his iron hold on Seth’s throat.

His relief does not last long though.

The hand that had been clutching his throat moves south quickly, tearing at the waistband of his leather pants until they’re down around his knees, freeing his achingly hard dick but keeping him from any kind of escape he might attempt. As if he’d even try.

Satisfied with his work, Dean’s fingers find his hole with expert precision and press inside unforgivingly, wringing a pained moan out of Seth.

It’s the kind of pain Dean knows he craves, the same burning ache that settles into his muscles after a 30 minute match, the kind of pain that leaves him sore but satisfied the next day.

“Tight as usual,” Seth can feel the deep growl of Dean’s voice. “Not surprised, I’ve heard all about that pathetic cock of Cody’s. Figures that you’re such a filthy slut you’ll take any dick you can get. He couldn’t satisfy you, could he sweetheart? I bet you couldn’t even feel that tiny cock inside you, but you moaned like a 2 dollar whore anyway to make him feel good about himself.”

The sting of the truth of Dean’s words hurts more than the fingers roughly exploring his ass.

One grazes against his prostate and Seth cries at how dirty wrong good it feels, his cock weeping precum despite being neglected thus far.

“Please,” he weeps, hair falling into his face and sticking to the salty damp tear tracks. “Oh god, please-“

A third finger works its way inside him.

“You wanna hear a little story? I saw your boy on the way in here.” As the fingers in his ass flex and stretch, Dean’s other hand wraps into the hair at the base of his neck. “You may have got between him and the Big Dog earlier, but we both know Roman doesn’t have the imagination that I do. Gonna be a little difficult for him to finish the story now, but we both know you never gave a fuck about that.”

The continued assault on his prostate has him dangerously close to the edge despite himself, his breath coming in harsh pants as his thoughts fill with all the terrible things Dean could have done to his tag partner. He shuts his eyes tightly, banishing the thoughts of Cody covered in blood from his mind and focuses on the sensations wracking through his body, chasing pleasure and release.

With no warning his hole is empty and his hair is pulled. Seth gasps, disoriented and clenching down on nothing.

He’s shoved unceremoniously over the back of the couch he’d been lounging on earlier, bare ass exposed with his pants now fallen around his ankles. Dean’s fingers never leave Seth’s curls as he circles around, loudly unbuckling his belt and freeing his angry red cock. He’s close enough to Seth’s face that the sticky head smacks him in the cheek.

“You like that? Been a while since you’ve seen a real cock.” Dean guides his dick with one hand to smear precum on Seth’s lips like lipgloss. “You know what to do, your spit’s the only lube you're getting so you better do a good job.”

Seth opens his mouth and latches onto the head of Dean’s cock, suckling it for a moment before taking it further onto his tongue. He can’t help but moan at the unique taste of Dean that fills his senses as he moves his tongue along the prominent vein.

He believes Dean that this will be the only lube he’ll get, so he makes an effort to drool all along the thick length. The grip in his hair tightens, pulling Seth further down with no warning, and he has no choice but to take Dean’s dick into his throat, eyes burning with tears.

Just as his throat begins to relax and adjust to the intrusion there’s a knock at the door.

“Ey Uce! You need a ride outta here, or what?” Jey Uso’s voice comes through the door and Dean rolls his eyes before pulling Seth off his dick.

Seth coughs and sputters before answering, “Nah, M’good man. Go- Go on without me.” He tries to keep his voice even and neutral despite the adrenaline running through him.

“You sure?” Of course he won’t let it be. Jey’s too nice for that.

“Yeah, I’ll catch ya later, uce.” Dean makes a face. Seth prays that it’s enough and that Jey won’t pry further.

There’s no sound for a moment, like Jey’s hesitating for some reason, until finally, “Alrigh’, if you sure. M’gonna go find Cody then. Later, Uce.”

Seth breathes a sigh of relief, but it doesn’t last long. Dean steps away from his face, keeping a tight grip in Seth’s hair, tugging painfully as he moves around the couch. His free hand moves down Seth’s waist and rubs at his exposed ass before giving it a sharp smack.

“Excellent job, princess. Shame all your slobber dried up during your performance.” Dean spits on his hole. “Don’t say I never did anythin’ for ya.”

It’s degrading and humiliating, but fuck if Seth doesn’t nearly cum at the wet feeling of Dean’s spit on his already aching hole.

Then he’s split open as Dean shoves his dick inside in one go, his hips smacking the swell of Seth’s cheeks. He howls as Dean grinds against him, rubbing Seth’s prostate in a delicious mix of pleasure and pain.

He’s open and raw, a ripe oyster cracked open for Dean’s pleasure, ready to be slurped up, devoured and savored. All thought leaves his mind as Dean pulls out and thrusts back in sharply, setting a punishing pace.

Dean’s tongue laves at the tattoo on his spine, biting and nipping at the meat of his back, hard enough to hurt but not bleed. He’s still holding onto Seth’s hair, using it as leverage as he pounds into him, while the other hand finds its way to Seth’s chest, pinching and tugging at his nipples.

Seth’s so close already, the tension in his stomach like a hot coil ready to burst. He unclenches his hand from the back of the couch, stiff from the death grip he’s been holding and tries to reach down towards his cock.

SMACK

He jumps from the shock of the stinging pain on his ass, and Dean’s fingers wrap around the hand he was going to use to try and come, yanking and twisting his arm painfully behind his back.

“You’ll come from my cock or not at all,” Dean growls.

Seth feels tears leaking from his eyes in frustration. Dean’s dick is hitting his prostate like a bullseye at each thrust, and it’s so much but not quite enough to send him shattering apart.

Dean yanks harder on his hair, his back bowing even further and his head twisting to one side at the angle, exposing one side of his throat. Then he’s there, his breath hot against the delicate skin of Seth’s throat.

“Is this what you thought about when Cody fucked you? Closed your eyes and pretended it was me filling you up right?”

Seth nods as best he can, whines escaping his lips with each breath in lieu of words.

“Well don’t worry, I’m here now baby. Gonna remind you,” Dean’s lips meet his skin. “Ro,” Another kiss. “Cody,” Another. “The whole locker room.” A quick dart of his tongue. “Fuck, the whole world, who you belong to.”

“Yours, yours, D-dean, fuck please-“ He’s babbling now more than anything else.

“Thats right, you’re mine.” It’s punctuated with a sharp bite to his earlobe at the end of another vicious unforgiving thrust, and Seth can only hold on as he hurtles over the edge.

He shoots his cum all over the back of the couch, shaking as his orgasm wracks through his body. Dean buries his cock inside him a few more times before shooting his own seed deep inside of Seth’s hole, adding to the sensations that wrack his body and marking him further.

Seth breathes hard as Dean finally pulls out, leaving him shaking and empty. Dean chuckles behind him as he tries to stand. “No wonder it was an easy slide,” He gestures to the streaks of blood that stain his softening cock.

His hole clenches painfully, he’s certainly going to be feeling this for days, but at least he’s gotten off easier than Cody. He makes it to standing, but his knees buckle beneath him, and he can’t even bring himself to try to catch his fall.

He’s accepting that he’s about to faceplant when Dean’s arms wrap around him, saving him from the impact and scooping him up. Seth grabs onto Dean’s neck to stabilize himself, but finds himself paralyzed by the way Dean’s looking at him.

Gone is the anger and fury that he saw earlier, that fed his rough treatment of Seth, replaced by a somewhat bashful look, as if he’s embarrassed now of his earlier behavior.

“You uhhh, good there?” Awkward as ever when it comes to communicating outside of the heat of the moment. Seth feels his chest swell with fondness, their bond may be absolutely bat shit crazy, but no one gets him like Dean and no one gets Dean like him.

He nods, grinning. “Yeah, M’good now-I got my big strong guy to keep me going.”

“Damn right! What you say we get outta here? Got a hotel room with a fluffy robe that’s got your name all over it sweetheart.”

Seth rolls his eyes, but doesn’t have any room to argue considering his current predicament. “Yeah, let’s get outta here.”

--- Thank you for reading!!! 💖💖

[b--b-3]

Sooo I've decided to finally cross-post my Obey Me crack-fic from ao3, I hope you enjoy!✨️

°•°•°•°•°

Cheek Clappin' Behavior

Ch.1

summary: Mc gets bamboozled by the game we all know and love 😭. They also happen to get yeeted right into it at full throttle, oops. How, you ask?? Who knows-

warnings: swearin/strong language, a quick innuendo, Mc just bein straight up wild tbh

misc: this fic doesn't accurately follow the story, literally just random shits 'n giggles for now lmao [pls it's so unserious ajfjshsjs] + the memes you see edited were done by me in my absolute mess of a gallery 💀

word count: almost 1k

It was just an ordinary day for Mc… Well, that is if you could call simping for fictional characters from a story-based gacha game ordinary. Okay, maybe they're a liiiiiiittle bonkers in the head, but we still love 'em 😋.

[Mc's POV]

'You've gotta be clappin' my cheeks unequivocally rn.'

"How tf am I gonna pull up AND get bumblefucked by this yee yee ass game 🤨🤨🤨??" Okay, so maaaaybe I got raw-dogged by a fictional world, but I can fix this for sure‼️

.

.

.

Oh.

I didn't fix this. Far from it, in fact. Yet another 10 pull, wasted… 😟

Welp, whatever‼️‼️ Back to the story then hehEHEHEHE— HOLY FUCKIN' MOTHER OF GO— MAMMON YOU ABSOLUTE BABYGWORL TF YOU DOIN' LOOKIN' LIKE THAT?? 🤭🤭🤭

Even tho he plays hard to get, he ain't a match for MY sluttish behavior 🤪—

THIS? FUCKING?? $ Ł Ü ✝️? ? ? "The absolute fuckin' audacity I swear— AND this mf blushin' too? Consider tears runnin' down my leg fr fr for real fr‼️" YOU SEE THAT TUB OVER THERE MAMS?? YEAH HOP IN THAT BITCH CUZ I'M BOUTTA 😩😩—

Ahem.

Caught myself lackin' for a sec there sorry bout that y'all 💀—

I then end up playing this damn game for a psychologically questionable amount of time. Such a long time, in fact, my raggedy ass fell asleep with the game open. O p e n. I didn't even get to charge my shit— hot damn 😬.

.

.

.

Next thing I know, I'm exposing my eye sockets to a ridiculous amount of light.

✨️OWIE✨️—

Oh.

'Now why in the ass-eatin' fuck does this place look familiar?? This ain't my house OR my room🗿. Tf is goin' on in here on this ass-chappin' day 🤨🤨??'

Like, the more I look around, the more shit's appearance becomes clear to me [no d U h Mc?? C'mon get it together 😭].

'Tho it does look a bit [a fuck ton tf you mean?? 💀] like my room in Obey Me…🤔'

.

.

.

"Did my bitch-ass get isekai'd into the world of Big Boobie Bitches— I mean Obey Me??????⁉️🗣📢🔥"

.

.

.

' …You've gotta be tuggin' my schlong rn this shit is a different breed. No, literally. Does that mean I'm a whole ass sheep now⁉️ This ain't gonna work. I swear on my left kneeca—'

All of a sudden, someone's headass bursts into the room. I was about to chew them tf out like a baddie, but then I SEE 🕕🫦🕕—

'CERTIFIED BABYGWORL??? AJDJSJEEJ OMGOMGOMG IT'S HIIIIIIIM IT'S MAAAAAMMMMS OH MY—🥺🎊✨️🫧💖‼️🥰💛'

"Yo, human! Ya were s'pposed to hang out with me today! What's goin' on?"

I—

'Ugh. What a cutie 🥰. Look at him, lookin' at me like that 'n shit 😭💖.'

I stare right back at the white-haired babygworl— I mean demon, trying a lil TOO hard to fight the inner voices that are telling me to jump him unprovoked.

"Well, tbh tbh honestly tbh, I haven't the slightest fuckin' clue Monie.. Buuuuuuut you can still take me out if you want tho 👀." I give him a lil look. Yano, a look. A little lookie look. A look that looks like a lil look because it looks—

"Whatever, let's just go. You've been makin' The Great Mammon wait long enough." He then drags me outta the room as if I'm his bitch.

'OW MY PUSS- now hold on for just a diddly ding dang darn second ☝️🤓— here I thought it was supposed to be the other way around 🤨🤔❓️ ❓️ ❓️'

Welp I'll just have to worry about it another time ig 🤷.

Anyways, now we were makin' our way [downtown] through the Big Ass House of Lamentation, BAHoL for short, trying to get to wherever tf Mammon has plans for. Well, that is until we run into a certain someone.

.

.

.

'GAAASSSPP IT'S HIIIIIM‼️ LEVIATHAN THE SWEET BOOOOOOYYYYY OHFUCKOHFUUUCK 🥰💖🫧🧡✨️‼️'

"Yooo, Levi! Funny seein' ya outside ya room for once." Both Mammon and I then proceed to start gigglin' like two lil bitches lmao.

Until this mf turns around 🗿.

…My face just about shriveled up inside itself.

'DID BABYGWORL #3 GET EVEN QUIRKIER 😳😳😳⁉️'

"Levi.. you good?? You're looking a bit differently different there bud 😭😭."

'I swear to shit there are literal SPARKLES just shootin' me in the eyes rn.'

"Idk what you're talking abt lol." He blinks and just shrugs at me like absolutely NOTHING is wrong like wtf my g—

"Tbh tbh honestly tbh Levi you're looking MAD ✨️bbg✨️ rn and idk how to cope with that so I think it's best you induce an anime withdrawal for just a singular sliver of a second the sake of my sanity 🗣🗣."

It takes him a couple seconds for the matter inside his cranium to process whatever tf just came out my mouth.

"B-Bbg!? WOOOAAAHHHH❗️🗣🗣🗣📢💥.. I-I can't believe you're calling a no-good otaku shut-in like me that!" He takes a moment to cover his now blushing face sextillion times more than his hair already does with his hand.

'Omg what a lil cutie I swear— got me swooning 'n shit <3.'

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever! We've gotta get goin' now. See ya later, Levi!" Mammon cuts off the ENTIRE interaction quicker than it even started before dragging me away like a fucking rag doll.

'L?? M?? A?? O?? Tf is all this motion for 🫨🥴?'

What the plans are?? I still haven't the slightest of darn clues, buT I GUESS WE'LL FIND OUT 🗣.

.

.

.

I kid you tf not we literally only managed to reach the main entrance before getting jumpscared by none other than Lucifer himself—

'EYE- SWEET MOTHER OF DIAVOLO'S (. )( .)‼️—'

[✨️To Be Continued✨️]

[thorniest-rose]

I keep rereading "sweet boys taste like sour candy" so thanks for that. My brain runnin wild with all the potential. On the note of fanfic too, I read your other one "in the dark, don't know if I'm dreaming," and all I was thinking was this boy needs his Robin. I imagine it would blow his mind that someone would love him, want to be with him, support him, and in no way want to fuck him. Like he would just be shocked that her attention wasn't a sexual attraction. I think she would be the person he really needs

Love your work 😚

hi!!! oh my gosh THANK YOU I'm so thrilled you love sour candy, I love it too and really want to go back to it when I get the chance! And omg you are so on point about Steve and Robin because I've been thinking a similar thing, about how good it would be for Steve to meet someone who values him and enjoys his company where there's no possibility of sexual attraction or of them wanting him in that way. I think it would be a huge relief for him and after the initial sting of rejection (because Steve is used to people wanting to fuck him all the time), he'd realise how relieved he is and how he doesn't have to play up to this sexpot image when he's around Robin, he can just be himself. They're going to meet in the sequel fic I write and I can't wait to explore their dynamic!! Thank you so much for your lovely ask <333

[ngkiscool]

This week was suppose to be only about Wensleydale and Brian, but I couldn’t find enough stories about them so added a few more about the rest of The Them. All the stories are SFW, only the last one has warnings.

Next weeks will be about the holidays - please send recs for stories that focus on supporting characters (as in, Aziraphale and Crowley are not the main ones). Self recs are  encouraged!

Baby B by thewightknight - rated G, 512 words. Focusing on Wensleydale and Wensleydale’s parents. Summary: Whatever happened to that third baby, on the night of the Antichrist's birth?

Rescue Party and Chocolate Cake by Zeckarin - rated G, 614 words. Focusing on The Them, Newt and Dog. Summary: The Them are inventing a new game. Intense arguing ensues.

The Four Bikers of the Beginning Times by mistrali - rated G, 860 words. Focusing on The Them. Summary: “We’ll be juvenile d’linquents,” Adam said, with all the aplomb of eleven. He‘d seen some on American films and thought it very grand. “Outlaws, riding wild and runnin’ free. Like Robin Hood.”

Friends Will Be Friends by @anonymousdandelion - rated G, 600 words. Focusing on The Them and Dog. Summary: The other three Them find Adam in the woods, finishing a biscuit and moodily kicking pinecones while Dog barks futilely at squirrels. Plainly, Adam is sulking. Equally plainly, something has to be done.

Camp Out in Hogback Wood by @supergeek21​ - rated G, 588 words. Focusing on The Them and Dog. Summary: A little over a year after the Apocalypse, life has returned to normal for the antichrist and his band of friends.

Special by Nny - rated G, 582 words. Focusing on Wensleydale and Brian. Summary: A Them fic, set when they're in University.

Fish Out of Water by irisbleufic - rated T, 910 words. Focusing on Wensleydale and Brian. Summary: Wensleydale considers this, chewing his lip. Onscreen, there's suddenly a lot of blood. “I don't mind being in charge for once,” he admits. “Both of us, I mean.” Brian snorts. “Going by who orders me to do the washing up—”  “Oi,” Wensleydale sighs, turning up the volume. “Shut it.”  “Got some cheek in you now,” Brian says, punching Wensleydale's arm. “Feisty. I like it.”

Six Years After... by andrealyn - rated T, 468 words. Focusing on Wensleydale and Brian. Summary: Six Years After The Event-Which-Shall-Not-Be-Spoke-Of-Except-When-In-Dire-Need-Of-A-Really-Cool-Story, something new happens. 

Changes the Same by HSavinien - rated T, 1.1K words. Focusing on Wensleydale, Brian and Pepper. Summary: There's a difference between being friends and being roommates.

Chosen and Unchosen by Bookwormgal - rated T, 71K. Focusing on The Them, Crowley, Aziraphale, Warlock Dowling, Hastur, Anathema, Newt, Gabriel, Michael, Sandalphom. CW - Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Psychological Torture, Sensory Deprivation, Fake Character Death, Blood, Serious Injuries, Nightmares. Summary: Adam Young was meant to be the Anti-Christ... Warlock Dowling was not chosen... The apocalypse may have been averted, but not everyone is relieved...

Bonus - master list with all past recommendations!    

Authors - if you wish that your Tumblr account will be tagged, instead of the AO3, please comment or DM me the handle. Thanks :)

Thanks for reading, and remember - sharing is caring!

[jasontoddspussy]

oooh this sounds fun! this will expose me most def but eh, im already a degenerate so. i tend to name my writing doc with the fic name, and some of these are years old, so i use parentheses to specify what fic it is.

copy-pasted directly from my work docs;

A vivisetion of me (One Piece)

ancient aspect au (linked universe)

BNHA mutual noncon red riding hood shig x wolf deku fic

botw dark link fic(au where zelda = hero, link = villain, ganon = princess)

Come, let them take you for a ride (And let your carnal lust prevail tonight) (One Piece, Acelaw wound fic)

everytime we touch i get this feeling that im preggers w jack(SPN, pussy dean)

Flesh(SPN - ABO alpha x alpha)

flying dutchman(DP x DC)

Furry Fairy Kink fic (all of the links lmao)(LOZ, time travel)

I love you (for whats on the inside)(DP)

I split my ribs open and bleed on my hands(BNHA)

I wish I was as dirty as my car ( Let me ride you all night long)(SPN, pussy dean. no pregn)

If you asked to describe me I'd say I'm bad harmony (Batman,Tim and jay familiar au )

If you seek Acey(one piece, monster au)

in which link is an idiot(LOZ, botw link sent to the past. woos sky)

Kjærlighet er mer enn forelskelse (One Piece)

Let me the shoudler you cry on (And the dose that you die on) (Batman, killing jay bby)

lynel wild...wyneld(Linked Universe)

meltdown(Batman)

My Reason(DP x DC, suicide attempt fic)

Nerve Impulse(BNHA dimension travel shigadeku)

nsfw one shots

OceanDeep(One Piece)

oceandeep longing(DP, mer! Au)

OP chat fic

Runnin' with the devil(SPN demon dean fic)

The morning sun is rising, and it's kissing the damned (main draft)(One piece. ASL separated. trauma dumping basically. unfinished)

theres someone walking over my grave(DP)

Übers ende der welt(One Piece, Luffy being accused of murder)

tagging my only fic writer friend

@autpunk-arsonist, but anyone who sees this and wants to do it go right ahead!

tagged by @authenticaussie thank you?? What a surprise idk how many wips i have ten billion honestly…

RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! then tag as many people as you have

I tried not to pick obviously titled stuff like acesexy or babobabitosabo stuff but im sure if you said any variant of MAS and sexy id have a file titled that anyway

1. Badboybaddog

2. Ooohohohehehe

3. Yeeass

4. Soop

5. Meatlockersabo

6. Babygirl

7. Murder

8. Spooicyman

9. Ace_redacted

10. Woeowoeowoweo

11. Aaa

12. Yee

13. Fistfight

14. Bbqsauce

15. ASL

16. Sexytime

I’ll try tag as many people but ofc anyone i miss or not mentioned pls have at it and assume i did tag you

Tagging @enteisabo @apphiarothowrites @mangyraccooon @itsthefandommash @childofmothermoon @hergan416 @quinloki @longingforthecosmos @oz-gauze @ghoulysaphomet @vegalustirra @kingsofneon

[rae-lune]

As predictable as autumn slipping into winter, the changing season always seemed to bring changes for Sirius and Remus, too.

[slothspaghettiwrites]

I love all your Lee fics so for kinktober what about: Lee/food play/🕸️ "Every part, no matter how you feel, belongs to me."

Yes 😌

Sweet Treat

Warnings: Daddy kink, implied kidnapping, noncon, food play, unsafe candy use (please for the love of God don't do this), implied smoking (Lee), handcuff restraints, oral sex

Relationship: Dark!Lee Bodecker x Fem!Reader

"I told ya, honey. I told ya, and ya didn't listen, so now I gotta remind ya." Lee grunted, rubbing his cock into the crease between your thigh and stomach. He pulled another candy from the paper sack. He put the wrapper in his teeth and untwisted it. He spat the wrapper across the bed.

"Please, no Daddy, was-wasn't runnin'-"

"Then why'da get out this big ole bed? Huh?" He demanded, fingers gripping the hard candy so hard you thought it might crack.

His hand disappeared between your bodies. Lee put the candy in your pussy. That was the third piece, or was it the fourth? Your sobs did nothing to make him stop. He worked his fingers as deep as he could, pushing the candy up further inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you shuddered. This shouldn't feel good, you didn't want it to feel good. You tried to focus on the something, the ache in your wrists from the handcuffs or the smell of cigarettes on his breath.

It didn't stop your body from responding. As Lee's fingers worked the candy inside of you, he purposefully rubbed over that traitorous spot inside you, the one that made your legs shake and your tummy flutter. You whimpered as he withdrew his fingers and sucked your arousal off them.

"Now to make up for givin' me a scare, you're gonna feed Daddy his favourite candies."

He moved down your body and planted his hands on your thighs, spreading painfully wide. Lee looked up at you with hunger in his eyes, wild and deranged and so unlike the sheriff you thought you knew. Your breath caught in your throat as he licked his lips.

"Every part, no matter how you feel, belongs to me."

He waited for you, looked at you with uncontrolled blue eyes as you tried to come up with the right words. Sometimes the simplest answer is best.

"Yes, Daddy."

His mouth latched onto your pussy and sucked. The chains of your handcuffed rattled as your back arched off the off bed. Lee thrust his tongue into you, deep and searching. His nose bumped against your clit with every movement he made. The shuddering, fluttering feeling returned to your body. You whined, wanting more and wanting him off of you at the same time.

"Daddy," you begged, squeezing your eyes shut.

Lee moaned against your pussy, an obscene slurping sound that made your body heat with humiliation. You fought it, the wave trying to crash over your mind. You moved, tried to run away from the pleasure but he dug in harder. He spread your legs wider, burying his face between your lips like he was trying to get inside of you.

Your mouth dropped open and your vision turned white as your orgasm shook your body. There was no stopping it, your mind had lost the battle wills like it always did with Lee. He looked up at you, slick dripping down his chin and his cheek flushed pink like the candies.

"That's one, baby "

[infernalodie]

𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧' 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

Pairings: Maddy Perez x Black!Male!reader x Laila (oc)

Warnings: Violence, fluff, and angstier than anything you’ll likely ever read

Summary: You could always rely on your girlfriend and daughter to the only support you needed. When that’s taken away, there’s no telling how the domino’s would fall.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

No Church In The Wild

Not All Hero Wear Capes

Everything Will Be OK

Runnin’ To Where You Might Find Me

Doomed

When I Grow Up

Death Row

Wiseman

Inspirations:

Jacob Banks - Runnin’

Jacob Banks - You Might Find Me

Frank Ocean - Wiseman

SZA - Love Galore

Moses Sumney - Doomed

NF - I Miss The Days

Creed 1 & 2

Southpaw

@gardenof-venus​

A/N: I watched Creed 1 & 2 six times each when I first moved into my new apartment, so I came up with this series. Southpaw was also something I watched and I took key scenes from each movie to try and reimagine them in this series. This will easily be the most angst filled fic I’ve ever written, so I’m sorry if I break all your hearts

[verai-marcel]

Serendipitous Meetings (Arthur x GN!Reader, Modern AU, 18+)

Summary: You foolishly didn’t mark where you parked in the huge parking structure, and spend some time looking for your car. You run into a fellow who did the same thing, and things get ridiculously serendipitous from there.

Author’s Notes: How many tropes can I shove into this fic? Let’s face it, I just wanted to have Arthur fuck like the manly man that he is. Also going for gender neutral as much as possible, so all my readers who want a piece of Arthur can have him.

Tags: Arthur x GN!Reader, smut, light D/s tones, size kink, light spanking, neck grabbing, rough sex, dirty talk, modern AU

AO3 Link is here, li’l darlin’.

Word Count: 3764

--------------------

"Shit."

You let out a long suffering sigh as you looked around the packed parking structure. In your rush to meet your friends, you had forgotten to take a photo of where you parked. Now you stared at the large expanse of cars, racking your brain for at least a slight memory of how you got to the venue entrance from your car. 

Sticking your hand into your pocket, you gripped your phone for a moment before letting it go. You had already shooed your friends away, insisting you had parked nearby and could get to your spot no problem. Swallowing your pride, you started to search the rows for the off-white bucket of bolts you dared to call your car. 

After searching one floor, you trudged up the stairs to the next one, stopping a few steps past the landing to gaze upon the hundreds of cars before you. You faintly heard another set of steps coming down the stairwell, but you were so mired in your own despair that you didn't pay the sound any mind. 

"Shit," said a gravelly voice next to you. 

Glancing over, a very broad set of shoulders filled your view. Your eyes flicked over the red and black flannel shirt and blue jeans, with an almost hilariously large belt buckle. Then you looked up. 

Oh no. He was gorgeous, in a rugged, manly-man sort of way. That chiseled jaw, the five o’clock shadow, that thick neck… he was the kind of man who could probably pick you up and throw you over his shoulder with ease. You were so busy staring at him in tired awe that he finally noticed you.

A pair of turquoise eyes met yours. "Sorry," the man said. "Can't find my truck."

It took you half a second to remember to respond. Then you gave him an empathic half-grin. "I can't find my car either."

He pointed upstairs. "What's yer car look like? Maybe I saw it up there."

You shook your head. "It's just a generic off-white Toyota Corolla."

The man shrugged. "Oh. Well, sorry darlin', there's a bunch of those up there."

You sighed, lamenting the fact that your car was one of the most popular cars out on the road these days. You also secretly enjoyed him calling you darling with that accent of his. He sounded like he had just stepped out of a spaghetti western. 

"Maybe I saw your truck downstairs, if it stands out," you said, trying to be helpful. 

"It's a blue Chevy pick-up. Really old, like one o' them classic trucks, 'cept it ain't been cleaned up like the ones you see in a car show."

Your memory flashed with the image of a dirty blue truck in your apartment complex's garage. You stifled a laugh at the thought. You had always wondered who drove the old thing, since you had never seen its owner. 

"Nope, I didn't see a truck like that downstairs," you told him. 

"Oh. Well, guess we better start lookin'," he said. He looked at you for a moment, opened his mouth, then closed it again.

You waited.

“Maybe,” he finally said, “maybe we could look together? For a bit. Keep each other company.”

“Okay,” you said easily. Part of your brain screamed that it could be really easy for him to just pull you into his car, but you dismissed the voice in your head. He seemed alright; you had a good feeling about this guy.

The two of you took off towards the left side of the structure. Putting your remote under your chin and hoping it would actually increase its range, you hit the button on occasion. 

“Uh, what’re you doin’?” he asked, pointing at your remote.

“Oh, I read about this online, someone figured out that you can use your own head as an antenna, or something like that.”

The man raised an eyebrow, but eventually just nodded. “Huh, I guess that makes sense.”

You shrugged. “Haven’t tested it before this, so I’m hoping it actually works.”

The two of you wandered further and further towards the center when finally you heard that familiar beep. 

*BEEP BEEP*

He chuckled. “Guess it works.”

You had never been so happy to hear that annoying little buzzer of a horn. You took off at a jog without waiting for the man, going towards where you had heard the sound, and as you turned a corner, you spotted it. 

It was the big, old, blue truck from your apartment complex. 

No way, you thought. There is no way. Maybe it's a similar truck. 

Going back, you saw the man wandering around, still searching. 

"Hey Mister!" you yelled. 

He turned towards you. 

You excitedly pointed towards the truck. "This yours?" 

He started walking to you, and as he came closer, you could see the smile on his face and felt your heart skip a beat. 

"Thank you," he said, stopping in front of you. "Where’s your car?"

You grinned and hit your unlock button. The little off-white sedan next to his truck let out a little beep, the lights coming on. 

"Wish I had one of those," he said wistfully. "Sure woulda made my life easier." He looked at you with a small smirk as he opened the door to his truck. "But then I wouldn’t have met you. Thanks fer your help, angel."

You smiled, feeling your cheeks warm from his comment. "No problem." You struggled to find anything else to say, feeling pathetically desperate to hear him speak more. "Have a good night," you finally said. 

"You too," he said, his voice a little lower, a little more breathy as he hauled himself into his truck and closed the door. Now that you had a pretty good feeling that he was a decent guy and not a creep, you half-wished he really would pull you into his truck and have his way with you. 

Shaking the lewd thought from your head, you got into your car and set up your phone to listen to a podcast as you drove home. You eased your way out of the garage, through the local roads, and onto the freeway. For the next thirty minutes, you would spot the same blue truck out of the corner of your eye. Sometimes you’d pass him, sometimes he’d pass you. 

Maybe it’s a different blue truck, you tried to convince yourself.

You couldn’t convince yourself any further when you pulled into your apartment complex right behind him. He parked at his usual spot, three away from yours. Climbing out of your car, you saw him walk towards you.

“You followin’ me?” he asked gruffly, though the grin on his face clearly showed his amusement at the coincidence.

“I can’t believe we live in the same complex,” you muttered, still in shock that you had never seen this handsome man before. “How long have you lived here?”

“Oh, ‘bout two years now.”

“Shit,” you thought to yourself.

“Why’re you cursin’?”

Oh crap. You said that out loud. “I, uh, um,” you stammered.

He quietly watched you, letting you stew in your own embarrassment, an amused grin on his face. The bastard was enjoying watching you squirm!

Feeling your face heat up, you blurted out the truth.

“We could’ve known each other sooner!”

It was an unfortunate tick in your personality that you had never managed to get rid of, and now, watching his eyes widen at your embarrassing remark, you wished the sidewalk would just open up and swallow you whole. But since that wasn’t going to happen, you opted to turn around and stalk away.

“Hey now, wait, you can’t just say that and leave,” the man said, jogging to catch up to you. When you wouldn’t stop walking, he swerved in front of you, forcing you to stop mere millimeters from him. You noticed how big he was, how little you were in comparison. You weren’t a small person by any means, he was just… large.

“Why’re you runnin’ away, darlin’?” he asked, his voice hushed as if he was trying to calm a wild animal. Perhaps with the way you acted, you seemed that way to him.

You took a deep breath, accidentally inhaling his scent, a mix of pine trees and a subtle hint of campfire smoke and musk that made you want to bury your face in his chest and stay there. Desire shot straight between your legs, reminding you that it had been a long time since you’d been with anyone. Letting out a shaky breath, you made the poor choice of looking up at him.

You were blinded by his kind smile and seduced by his deep voice. “Do you want to know me?” he asked quietly. 

“Yes, I do,” you answered immediately.

He pointed to his apartment. “I live there. Want to share some whiskey?"

You paused. He was a stranger. 

A stranger with beautiful eyes and the sweetest smile you had ever seen. 

You followed him willingly into his den. 

***

You blinked after he turned on the lights. When your vision cleared, your expectations were, fortunately, not met at all.

You had expected a bachelor pad with junk everywhere and clothing on the floor. What you saw was a clean and neat living room with a simple couch and a TV on top of a small entertainment center that held a few blu-rays and a blu-ray player. The short table in front of the couch had a plate on it, a smudge of ketchup and some crumbs on it, and a glass with a little bit of water left.

The man went to pick up after himself, putting the dirty dishes in the sink before going to his pantry. His kitchen looked pretty bare, except for the dried herbs, tied up in bunches under his cabinets. 

While he shuffled around bottles, you went to sit on his couch, but not before pausing for a moment to look through the door to his bedroom. He had a bed that looked big and comfy, his sheets somewhat askew but otherwise in place. Didn’t look like there were any clothes or boxes lying around anywhere. So either the man was tidy, or he didn’t own a lot of things.

“Curious li’l one, ain’tcha?” he chuckled behind you.

Spinning around, you could only give him a sheepish grin. “Yup, sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

He smiled and gave you a tumbler of amber liquid with a giant sphere of ice. “Curiosity like that could get you in trouble one day,” he said mysteriously, gesturing towards the couch.

You raised an eyebrow, but sat down anyway. You took a sip of the ice cold whiskey, enjoying its slow burn down your throat. It was smooth and sweet. “This is fantastic, what is it?”

“It’s a blackberry flavored whiskey,” he replied as he settled himself on the couch, a little closer to you than you had expected. “I thought you might like it.”

“Oh?” You leaned in a little closer. “And why is that?”

“Somethin’ a li’l sweet fer a li’l sweetheart,” he said with a grin. He knew he was being schmaltzy, but you didn’t care. You were eating up his words, spoken with that deep rumble that went right between your legs.

You continued to sip and make small talk with him until your ice had melted and the late night had become the witching hour. But he didn’t seem to mind, and you wanted to stay.

“You got a bit o’ whiskey here,” he said as he leaned in and reached for the corner of your lips, his thumb catching the drop that had escaped your last sip. You flicked out your tongue to catch him, and your eyes met. A heartbeat passed. The whiskey gave you strength.

Taking his hand in yours, you surged forward and kissed his lips, tasting whiskey and his woodsy scent. A low moan came from deep within him, but he did not reach for you. His hands gripped the cushions as he let you take the lead, climbing into his lap and wrapping your arms around him, your fingers kneading his broad shoulders. You kissed the breath from him, desperate to feel him against you.

When you finally broke away for air, you stared at his eyes, now filled with lust and longing, and realized you didn’t even know his name. 

He came to the same conclusion. “What’s yer name, darlin’?”

You told him.

He nodded and repeated your name. It sounded so good when he said it. “Feels nice to say it out loud,” he said. “I’m Arthur,” he added as he wrapped his arms around you and held you tenderly. “How far do you want to go?”

“All the way,” you said, grinding your hips against his groin, making him take a shuddered breath.

Without a word, he picked you up and carried you to his big, comfy bed. He dropped you unceremoniously and took off his shirt.

He was ripped. He was built like a man who had worked all his life in a physical job, carrying & lifting. With his tall stature, his broad shoulders, and his huge arms, he made you feel small.

You had never been more aroused in your whole life. 

Your body was ready to be thoroughly fucked by this man, and you hadn’t even taken your clothes off yet. You watched hungrily as he undid his belt and dropped his jeans & boxers, your eyes taking in his size. He wasn’t even at full mast yet, and you already wondered if you’d be able to take him all in.

“Your turn, darlin’.”

Taken out of your trance, you took off your clothes as he watched. You started at a normal pace, but when you saw him take himself in his hand and stroke himself while watching you with a lustful gaze, you slowed down, making an attempt to tease him. Already topless, you lay back on the bed and lifted your legs up, sliding your pants upwards. Slowly, you exposed your ass to him, winking salaciously.

He stroked himself a little faster. A soft moan escaped his lips. “Darlin’, yer makin’ it real hard fer me to stay in control here.”

You glanced down at him. “I can see it’s real hard,” you said with a playful smirk.

“Oh, yer goin’ ta get it now,” he said, his grin becoming predatory as he climbed onto the bed. Grabbing the rest of your clothes, he pulled them from you, flinging them over his shoulder before flipping you onto your belly. He gripped your ass and squeezed hard before giving you a firm spank.

“Ooh!” you yelped. 

“You want more?” he asked as his hand soothed over his mark.

You could tell he was asking for permission. Turning back to him, you gave him your best pouty face. “Does Sir think I need more?”

Arthur looked immensely pleased with your response. “I think so,” he said, his voice deepening with a thread of command that turned you on beyond belief. He straddled your legs and rested one hand on the curve of your ass. “I told you, curiosity would get you in trouble.”

He spanked you hard once more. “That’s fer sneakin’ glances into my room,” he said. He gave you three more swipes, each in slightly different areas so you wouldn’t get too sore. Then he grabbed your ass with both hands and massaged your muscles, spreading you open as he thrust his cock along the cleft of your rear.

“Yer so obedient, sweetheart,” he murmured as his hips rocked, his eyes fluttering shut for a few moments. Then with his strong grip, he manhandled you onto your back, wrapping his big hands around you and pulling you into his arms. He cradled you for a sweet, gentle moment before rolling you around like you were as light as a pillow before setting you back down onto the mattress. He leaned over you as he reached for the nightstand, pulling out a condom. You watched him slip it on, but he didn’t move to enter you. Instead, he reached down and began to stroke you as he loomed above, watching your reactions.

You moaned and writhed under his deliberate exploration. His hands traveled languidly along every inch of you. When he found a sensitive area that elicited a soft noise of pleasure from you, he lingered, making you whimper and lean into his touch. He finally touched you lower, where you longed for his attention, but to your frustration he continued his study at the same leisurely pace. Soon his strokes became faster and he pressed harder against you. His eyes nearly glowed as he watched you lift your hips towards his hands, imploring him for more. Using his new knowledge to his advantage, he brought you to the brink and then shifted his touch elsewhere, making you cool off before working you back up again until you were going insane with need.

“Please, please Arthur, I need to come,” you begged.

He only smiled as he slipped a finger inside of you. He slowly worked you open enough for two of his fingers, then three. Soon he was dragging you to the edge again, and you hadn’t even had his cock. You were feeling like you were being denied the thing you wanted most.

“Arthur,” you whispered, “I want your cock.”

“Louder, darlin’.”

“I want your cock!”

“And what do you want me to do with it?”

“Fuck me!”

“Say it again. All of it.”

“Fuck me with your cock!”

His smile was wolfish, satisfied that he had heard you beg for your desire. Pressing the head of his shaft against your opening, he pushed, easing his way inside of you.

You were right. He was big, long, and oh so thick. He stretched you deliciously, and you keened softly as he took you, claimed you, made you his in the most carnal of ways. He reached up and slipped his hand under your head, gripping your hair at the base and pulling slightly. 

“Eyes on me, darlin’. I want to see you while I’m takin’ you,” he murmured.

You couldn’t look away from him. His look was intense, as if he commanded your entire being, your body his to use for his pleasure. And you willingly gave it to him, letting him sheathe his entire length inside of you. He held you still while your body adjusted to his claim, watching you with an almost proud expression.

“Good li’l darlin’,” he said as he leaned over. He kissed you gently on the lips, then on the forehead, and as if he was overcome with affection for you, peppered kisses along the curve of your cheek and down your neck.

“I’m goin’ to fuck you now,” he whispered into your ear. “You tell me to slow if it’s too much for ya, alright?”

You nodded, sure that whatever he was about to do to you, you could handle it.

He lifted himself up onto his forearms, his hands framing your face. “You look so damn cute,” he murmured before his hips slowly pulled back. “So fuckable.”

Arthur slammed his cock deep inside of you with one forceful stroke. He immediately looked down at you when you let out a cry of surprise. He waited, quietly checking in.

“More,” you whispered.

You thought you saw relief cross his features before he gave you a teasing smirk. “Ask me nicely and I just might give it to ya.”

“Please sir,” you begged, “I need more.”

Arthur gave you a single nod before rocking his hips, building you up slowly, his gaze nearly burning a hole into you with their intensity. As your body stretched and accommodated him, you clawed at his arms, greedily clamoring for him to speed up. He let out a feral growl before wrapping a big, rough hand around your neck, his other hand gripping your leg and spreading you wider for him. 

"You think you can take more, darlin'?" 

You looked up at him and smiled a challenge. 

He began a ferocious pace, angling himself to take you as deep as he could go. All you could focus on was the impact of his body against yours, his thick shaft filling you over and over, unrelenting as a tidal wave.

Soon he let go of your neck so he could sit up and grip your hips with both of his hands. He was fucking the breath out of you with each hard thrust, the sound of his hips slamming against yours filling the room with a lewd rhythm, intertwined with your breathy cries and his low moans of pleasure.

He reached down and stroked you, his touch rough and vigorous, matching the way he was ravaging you in a haze of lust. You could feel yourself sprinting towards that delicious finish line. The end was in sight as your hips jerked wildly, your legs wrapping around Arthur as he thrust even harder and deeper than before. 

"Come fer me," he murmured. "I want to feel you lose yerself around my cock."

You screamed as his words broke the dam that was holding back a torrent of pleasure, your climax tearing through your body at breakneck speed. Your legs stiffened, your toes curled, and your fingers dug into his very muscled biceps as you came harder than you ever had. You shook with aftershocks as Arthur continued to thrust, his hands letting go of your hips as he fell upon his forearms, caging you in as he chased his pleasure. 

"Fuck sweetheart, I'm comin'," he moaned before he buried his head into the crook of your neck. He gave three more erratic thrusts, then nearly crushed you with his weight as he pressed his hips against yours, keeping himself inside of you for as long as he could. 

A breathless moment passed, the two of you trying to catch that elusive breath. Arthur rolled off of you, quickly gathering you into his arms as he tumbled onto his side. 

"Goddamn," he finally muttered. "Wasn't expectin' to have such good company."

You turned in his arms so you could see the wide grin on his face. "For once, I'm glad I got lost in the parking lot."

He kissed your forehead. "Me too, darlin'. But let's make sure we don't get lost again." He found your hands under the covers, brought them up to his lips, and kissed your fingertips. 

"After all, I only just found you, my li'l darlin'."

--------------------

End Notes: Been a while, and of course, all of my pent-up lust just came streaming out of me in a flurry of words and phrases. Hope it’s still hot enough for you, my lovely readers!

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Vardy bat meeting Peter bat?

These two meeting seems like a total disaster, haha.

This is not canon to either au, this is just for fun, so enjoy two bats fighting over Lucian.

On with the fic!

--

Hardy had never met another vampire like himself in this form before, outside of his own daughter.

So, to be flying about at night, only to nearly crash into another bat who curses him out in high pitch screams was a little alarming, to say the least. He looked at the other bat, a similar species as his own, if not the same, who was glared back at him in a little bat way.

He chirped at Hardy, making squeaks and clicks, clearly annoyed at nearly being knocked down, but didn't seem to register that Hardy could understand his, quite crude, words.

In retaliation, Hardy snapped back with his own squeaky bat sounds, catching the other one off-guard. For this, he got a startled hiss in return and he watched as the bat tried to fly away, oh no, he was not going to let some vampire fly into his town!

Hardy chased after him, screeching at him as he did, but the other bat did not seem to slow down. Damnit, so he was fast, fantastic. Still, Hardy kept flying after him, so happy he had his fill of blood early because he really needed the energy.

As he flew, he spotted a hulking figure below him, Lucian. It was one of their nights out to just be creatures, and it seems that Lucian was in the middle of enjoying a successful hunt with a wild goat. But Hardy's attention went to the bat, and he watched as the bat flew downwards and slapped himself right onto Lucian's startled face.

Lucian shot up from his crouching position, reaching up to try and remove the bat, who screamed and scurried up to rest on his head. Then Lucian paused and Hardy watched as he changed back to his human form.

"What do you think you're doing?" He seemed to be asking the bat, reaching up to remove him. He held the wiggling bat in his hands before giving a sniff. "You're not Alec, you're... Peter?"

This seemed to catch both bats by surprise and Hardy flew down, transforming when he was close enough to the ground. "You know this vampire?" He asked, gesturing to the bat, who screamed at him.

"Of course I do, it's just been... quite a very long time since I've seen him." Lucian replied and the little creature was looking at him now, before he seemed to change, a man now suddenly in Lucian's arms. Hardy felt a spike of something shoot up his spine, and he felt much more irritated than before.

The man was a strangely dressed man, maybe a few years younger than Hardy himself, with messy hair and even messier eyeliner. He was looking at Lucian in a way that Hardy didn't like. "Heeeeey, didn't expect to be runnin' into you here, Lucian." The vampire, Peter, was it?, practically purred.

Lucian's face darkened just a bit and Hardy approached, grabbing Peter and knocking him to the ground, ignoring his protests. "Well, he seems to remember you." Hardy ground out.

"Of course I do, you ass!" Peter exclaimed as he got up, dusting himself off. "We used to date."

Ah, that's what the spike was, jealousy.

"And he's currently in a relationship, now, go away, get out of my town, it's occupied."

Peter hissed, bearing fangs, which only made Hardy do the same. So, the same type of vampire then, interesting if this guy wasn't getting on the detective's last nerves so quickly.

"Can't a guy get to visit with his ex for a bit? It's been ages!" Peter huffed.

"No. Go away." Hardy snipped.

Lucian looked between the two of them, opened his mouth to say something, but wisely closed it when he seemed to notice the looks that he was given. "Just... don't kill each other, please?"

"No promises." Both said at the same time, which only served to annoyed Hardy more.

[thesmutbasement]

Welcome to Code Red: Shark Week! All the best period sex, period.

Everything here in The Smut Basement is for 18+ friends only! Minors and unverified persons will be blocked. Please heed ALL author warnings when you click a link.

Dave York (Equalizer 2)

Rare by @ezrasbirdie (This was the first period kink fic Claire ever read, and frankly her young 42-year-old mind was not ready for how hot it was. Dave York helping you with your cramps, and he’s kinda mean, too! HOT!)

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

Pornstar!AU Din by @charnelhouse (Because godDAMN of course... of course only charnelhouse could write something this hot for the word count, and make me actually miss having my period. Fuuuuck, that was hot. -Claire)

Uj'ayl by @salt-is-a-terrible-currency (See? This is why we rely on submissions to feed us our smut, because without a submission, I never would have known this HOT FIC existed! I'm in love, this version of Mando is hot and direct and HOT and just... oh damn. Seriously, this was so good. -Claire)

Frankie “Catfish” Morales (Triple Frontier)

Eucharist by @gaiuswrites (Frankie Morales loves to give you oral during Shark Week - it's a scorcher!! -Claire)

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

Blood Magic by @danniburgh (I immediately sent a DM to Claire about this even prior to reading that it was going to make an appearance here!! I said, “I haven’t read it yet, but come on it’s Dani!” Then we both read it and wanted to scream about it together. 🥵 My pussy is throbbing right now.) - Lauren

Marcus Pike (The Mentalist)

Size difference/Period kink Ask by @whataperfectwasteoftime (We get a 2-for-1 here! This size difference/period fic Ask takes place in Penny's Born To Run Marcus universe... and it's a DOOZY... how is this the very first Marcus Pike period fic I've read?? I have no idea, but it's choice! -Claire)

Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)

Get Your Motor Runnin’ by @writeforfandoms (Part of the Born To Be Wild series where Pero Tovar is dropped into modern times near a renaissance festival, this installment is delicious and depraved and HOT!!! Pero helps you with your cramps when he comes home and finds you laying on the couch in misery. Did I say hot? I meant VOLCANIC!!! -Claire)

Pedro from Across the Street (AppleTV+ “Calls”)

Period cramps Ask by @oonajaeadira (A follow up to the Kinktober smash hit “Good. Things. Take. Time.” Specialized masseur ATS Pedro takes things to a whole new level to help you out during your cycle. I think I speak for all of us when I say 🥴😵‍💫😍. -Claire)

To be continued...

Bottom of the Basement: Filthy Fic Recs Masterlist