#footed drawstring pants

[mystellenia]

dom!abby losing control୨ৎ

summary: abby's composed and rough facade is destroyed by an unexpected and embarrassing orgasm.

content: answer to this req!! dom!abby, kinda mean! abby, sub!reader, make out, fingering (r!receiving), teasing, humiliation if you squint and shake the phone, strap on sex (muehehehhehe) (r!receiving), overstim (a!receiving), abby being rough with reader, degrading (r!receiving)

notes: havent posted in almost 2 months 😍 school is whooping my ass and midterms are coming up so basically i’ll be killing myself soon. enjoy this to feed on for the next x weeks until i post again

(wc 1.8k)

abby's rough hands grip onto the backs of your thighs and lift you up, dropping you harshly on the kitchen counter as she cups the back of your neck to pull you back in for a kiss. you throw your arms around her neck, and your fingers make quick work of undoing the golden braid falling down the length of her back, scratching her scalp and making her groan. 

you grab her hair in fistfuls and pull on them to expose her neck, abby hissing at the twisted pleasure prickling across her scalp. her throat bobs with a thick swallow while you coat the skin of her neck with sloppy kisses, her hips hungrily grinding up into yours.  

"jesus, baby... fuck." abby's hands grab the hem of your loose t-shirt to lift it over your head, your braless tits exposed and nipples hardening at the sharp chill of the air. her swollen lips latch onto the side of your neck and make you dizzy, and you swiftly undo her belt buckle and pull it out of her jeans' belt loops. just when you unbutton them and grab onto the zipper to unzip it, her thick, rough palm closes around your throat, and you choke on your saliva at the startle. 

"you're being especially whorish today. slow down—you're not the one in control here." her thumb and first two fingers squeeze on the sides of your throat and restrict the blood flow to your head, making it feel heavy on your shoulders and your vision deliciously fog up.  

she slowly releases her iron grip on your throat and slides her hand down to your chest, her left hand tweaking and palming at your nipple. with her other hand, slow and deliberately teasing, she unties the drawstring of your pajama pants and pulls one leg out of them, spreading your legs wide to make room for her muscular body to fit in between them.  

you're left with only underwear on, your thin pajama pants floppily dangling from your foot from behind abby's back. abby roughly shoves her hand into your underwear and cups you, feeling your thrumming clit on her palm and the small wet spot on your underwear on her knuckles. 

breathing into your ear, she mumbles, "be good for me and don't fucking move, 'kay?" she then harshly thrusts her middle finger into your pussy, its soft walls quickly morphing to make room for the intrusion. you cry out and throw your head back into the kitchen cabinet, softly wincing at the impact.  

she presses inside you on that smooth spot at exactly the depth of her finger, almost as if she was the only one meant to find it, and your eyes water the way they always do when she massages inside you. her now swollen lips scatter bruises and marks along the side of your neck in a line, breadcrumbs to remind you in the morning of the skilled way she undoes your composure so easily.  

"i'll never get enough of the way your skin tastes," she purrs into your shoulder, and you pathetically whine in response, her brazen praises flustering you beyond words. she tries, and fails, to ignore the needy throbbing of her neglected clit underneath the seam of her pants, the slightest movement pressing the seam up against it and making her clench. 

golden waves cascade down her face and frame her strong cheekbones, hiding the way her eyes stayed high up in the back of her head at the smell of your skin. your fingers tightly thread through her hair, your grip tightening as you periodically let out little mewls into the shell of her ear.  

she trades the massaging of your g-spot for slow, but deep thrusts into your pussy, adding her index finger without warning and making your back bow. 

"oh, my go- my- abby," you pant out, unable to get more than three words out at a time before her careless ruining of your weeping cunt sucks the air out of you. you start babbling how she shouldn't stop, a telltale sign that your climax was approaching. 

your hand shoots to the wrist pumping her fingers into your pussy, your fingers wrapping around it in a vice-like grip to try and slow her movements down in overstimulation. her free hand snaps to your jaw and squeezes your cheeks together, condescendingly shaking your head side to side. 

"why you grabbing my wrist, baby? you want me to stop? yeah?" her voice raises in pitch to mock your whining. "you wanted this so fucking bad, so take it, slut." 

she throws your head back against the cabinet and shakes her wrist of your hand, beginning to jackhammer her fingers into your abused hole at a murderous pace. in the corner of your nearly closed eyes, you see your pajama pants fall from your foot to the floor. your whining and whimpering quickly fills the room, all the while abby watches every change in your face with a close eye.  

you cum with a yelp, both hands flying to her own to stop her brutal assault while you dumbly stare into her eyes slack jawed with your brows tightly twisted in ecstasy. abby removes her fingers from inside you and immediately pulls your face to hers, teeth clashing in a lewdly sloppy kiss.  

planting her hands underneath your thighs, she effortlessly hoists you up and carries you down the hall to your shared bedroom, all without disconnecting your lips once. upon entering, she throws you down onto the bed and swiftly pulls her henley over her head, her small boobs clad in a simple, grey bra. 

"go get me my cock, baby. the black one." her pants were already unbuttoned from your earlier rushed undressing, but the zipper still remained untouched. her thick fingers pinch the silver and slowly slide it down, and you quite literally salivate at the sight.  

pushing down a thick swallow, your body turns towards the closet to get abby's strap. your head closely follows after tearing your sticky gaze from her now exposed v-line, little tufts of light brown hair leading to her core in a teasing, almost coaxing way. upon entering the closet, you bend down to the dark blue box in the corner of the small room, and your nipples brush your knee, suddenly making you aware that she so effortlessly ordered you to get her strap, and you so pliably listened, almost fully naked, at that. you might as well have crawled to the closet on all fours with how you mindlessly obeyed her like a dog does its owner. 

shaking your mild embarrassment, you palm the long, dark strap and pivot back around to return to abby. she stands tall and sturdy—unmoving like a tree—watching your naked figure make its way back to her. 

"take your underwear off for me," she says under her breath, her breathing made heavy by hunger. 

you perch on the edge of the bed and scoot back, pulling your underwear down your legs and kicking it off to some spot on the floor. abby pushes her jeans and boxers over her ass just enough for the base of the strap to sit snugly against her pounding clit once she steps into the harness, the contact enough to make her sharply wince. 

grabbing you by the ankles, she roughly pulls you to the edge of the bed and lifts your feet up near each side of her head, rubbing her warm palms up and down your legs. simultaneously, her hips push forward and slide the length of the strap along your pussy, the toy gliding against your skin with ease thanks to the obscene amount of cum that coated your lips from your orgasm. 

"please... just... just put it in," you whisper, tired of the teasing. 

"i will. just wait a little—be patient." she gently lowers your legs to wrap around her hips and lock behind her back. then, she pauses before adding, "do you know how to do that when you're acting like such a slut?" like she'd caught herself being too nice and had to balance it out. 

all you can do is whine in response and hope to feel the delicious sting of her pushing the tip in soon. her hips rock back and forth one, two, three times while she intently watches, entranced by the way your pussy clenches every time the tip of her cock passes over your clit. 

her hips sharply jerk back, and she incoherently mutters a string of words under her breath. ending her cruel teasing, she swipes her hand down your swollen cunt to gather your cum and coats the tip of the strap with it. lining it up with your twitching hole, she sinks into you and smirks at your jaw dropping ever lower in pleasure. 

she starts her thrusts in a rather swift cadence, luring sweet cries out from your throat, suppressed grunts coming from her own. 

"fuck, i've been thinking about this all day. you don't even know, baby." her speech comes out fast and strained as she tries to speak before her groans and grunts interrupt the words. "i could live in this pussy, and it would welcome me with tears running down your legs." 

"yes," you pant out, the one word your dumbified brain can remember. 

very quickly, though, abby's thrusts get random and sloppy. shrill, high-pitched squeaks spill from her lips, a striking contrast to her formerly composed grunts and dirty words. she abruptly pulls out, and her hands frantically dart to her hips to push the base of the strap off her engorged clit, her lower stomach hurting from overstimulation. 

with the harness shoved down to her mid-thigh, she sat on the edge of the bed partially turned away, muttering a quiet shit to herself. you gawk at her with scared, wide eyes, terrified that something had gone wrong or hurt her. you see her eyelids flutter as she turned away in what seemed like embarrassment. her chest was madly rising and falling, too, from her attempts to catch her breath, and you scoff in both disbelief and twisted arousal. 

"baby," you call out, placing your hand on her bicep. "did you just cum?" 

she's quiet for a long while before shoving her face into her hands to hide her humiliation. "god, i didn't mean to." 

you can't help but let out a little giggle, and she falls back onto the bed, throwing her arm over her eyes. "it's not funny!" 

"it kinda is," you tease, but your laughter dies in your throat when you see a small wet patch on her pants where the base of the strap touched the fabric. 

you lick your lips, letting your eyes drop to her bra and thinking of the skin it so cruelly hid. 

"it was really hot, too." 

@abbysbug @abbys-gay @abbysunderwear @moonalumi @andersonsprincess

@abbysgirl1 @totalfinalgirl @90yearoldbear @hypnagogics @pretty-forest-nymph

@sapphicxprincess @carti9 @seraphicsentences @wxwrites @veraandrea7

all done yayaya. i dont know why i cant write something under 1k words like i told myself this was gonna be short and then i hit 4 pages and was like oopsies. u better like it bc i have a huge exam tomorrow that i shouldve been studying for but instead i was writing this erotica to post on tumblr.com. so go ahead and smash that subscribe button and reblog a billion times and comment your favorite part of this video (erotica posted to tumblr.com)

kay night night western hemisphere baddies goodmorning/afternoon everyone else love u bye bye

[m00nl1ghts1vt]

Pierced II - Chris Sturniolo

Part One Based off this request Pairings - bfb!Chris x fem!Reader Warnings - MDNI, smut, masturbation, oral fem receiving, oral male receiving, unprotected sex, p in v, titty play, pet names (baby), praise kink, strong language. (comment if I missed any!) Summary - After Matt catches you and Chris in the hallway, Chris dismisses him, and takes you to his room, easily giving you the best fuck of your life. W/c - 2896?? A/n - With Pierced being one of my top liked post, I had some requests for a part two! This is my first smut and I'm not too experienced writing smut sooo 🫣 Posting this before I clock in lol. I haven't proofread this yet so please forgive me if there's typos/mistakes!! Tags - @lvrsturniolo @thepubeburgler @unknvhx @m11rx @ribread03 @emely9274 (let me know if anyone else wants on my tag list!) Masterlist Current series - City of Love

Chris keeps you under his trance as Matt shuts his bedroom door. The anticipation of his next words has your heart in your stomach. Chris always had a flirty personality but something was different about tonight. The look he had in his eyes told you he was standing on business, “my room?” His voice breaks you of your train of never-ending thoughts. 

You nod eagerly, not letting your mouth form the words. A smirk pulls at Chris lips and he reaches out, looping his finger around the drawstring of pajama pants once again. You follow close behind as he leads you down the hall and to his bedroom. You watch as Chris kicks the door open with his foot, pulling the string tighter and making your bottoms bunch up at your waist. Your heart thumps as you enter his room, closing the door behind you. Chris leads you to his bed, sitting down, and guiding you between his legs. He looks up at you, a seductive smirk stretched across his lips, “I can still see, right?” 

Now that he has you up close and personal, he wanted to take advantage of it. Chris never hooked up with a girl with pierced nipples and seeing that photo earlier in the night not only sparked his curiosity, it revealed some sort of new found kink for him. All he knew was he wanted to pay as much attention to your breasts as you’d let him. 

You fight with your own brain that’s telling you not to do anything stupid but when Chris places his hands on your hips, running them down your thighs like he’s admiring the curves he always knew you had, all those logical thoughts go out the window. “Mhm,” you muffle out, locking your eyes on his. His eyes are filled with nothing but lust and passion as he tightens his grips around your thighs, and pulls you closer to him. You take the hint, straddling him before he scoots back on the bed to make the position more comfortable. His hands travel from your waist and up to your neck, pulling you down so he can press his lips to your. Your lips move against his like they’re in sync with each other. His kiss is a lot more gentle and patient than you expected. So many thoughts wander through your mind while Chris runs his hands up your shirt, groping your breasts through your bralette. Let's be honest, you weren’t expecting a hookup tonight, so you weren’t prepared in any way. You had hello kitty pajama pants on with a white tank top, a white lacy bralette and a pair of cute strawberry printed boyshorts underneath. The slight stubble down below being the main give away, tonight took you by surprise. Your outfit was not screaming ‘fuck me’ but your body definitely was. 

Deciding against your logical thoughts, you slip your shirt over your head. Within seconds, Chris is attacking your chest and stomach with wet sloppy kisses, the warmth of his lips against your skin makes you shiver. “That picture was so sexy,” he muffles, dragging his lips against your skin. “You don’t know how long I've been wanting to do this,” Chris looks up, the lust never leaving his eyes. His hands find their way underneath your bralette and he massages you gently. His fingers glide over your nipples lightly, hitting the cold metal each time. A small whimper rolls off your tongue, making him look up at you, “take this off for me.” 

You tug at each side of your bralette, sliding it over your head and letting it his the mattress next you, “fuck y/n.” Chris couldn't help himself, both of his hands immediately cup your breasts. “So fucking pretty,” he compliments before snaking an arm around your waist and attaching his mouth to your left breast. Your mouth forms an O-shape at the sudden contact, and you run your hand through his hair as flicks his tongue against your pierced nipple. His unoccupied hand travels up to your right breast, trailing lightly around your areola before pinching at your sensitive nub a little too hard. You suck in a sharp, Chris notices very quickly, parting himself with a barely noticeable popping noise when he pulls away, “too much?” 

“N-no it’s fine,” you tell him. It’s almost like you feared he’d stop, and that was the last thing you wanted. In the back of your mind, you knew he wasn’t going to, and you knew you’d be getting fucked sensless by him tonight at the rate it was going. Pushing your sane thoughts to the back of your head, “here. Lay down,” his voice raspier than before. You do exactly as you're told, scooting off his lap and onto his bed, laying back on the pillow as Chris hovers over you. Engulfing you in a heated kiss once again, he lets his hands wander all over your body, paying attention to the only naked part of you the most. Needing more of him, you roll your body against his as he slips his tongue in your mouth, letting it dance with yours. Before it gets too heated he pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours, “you wanna stop?” 

His question taking you off guard, “what, no, why?” you ask, trying to catch your breath he sucked out of you. “I don’t want to,” you blurt out in a whiny tone. You were desperate for him at this point, and he’s barely even done anything. Chris raises his eyebrows at you, awe etched across his face, “no?” You shake your head almost immediately, “not now,” pushing your hips against his. His tongue darts across his lips, and his eyes trail down to your breasts, his hand following quickly after, “you sure, Y/n?” His bright blue orbs locking you in for the millionth time tonight, his gaze was hypnotic, making it impossible to say no to, not that you planned on it. You let out an impatient huff, “Chrisss,” stretching his name out, making Chris smirk. Little did you know, your pleas only turned him on more. He wanted to hear you whine his name while his cock was buried deep inside on you, hitting spots you didn’t even know were there.

“Then take these off,” he commands, tugging at your hello kitty pajama pants. You lift your hips up, letting him slide your pants down your legs. You watch as he tosses them over his shoulder, not caring where they land. Chris runs a finger over your clothed heat, making you squirm under his touch. You had been in his room less than ten minutes and he already had a pool of wetness collecting in your panties. It was nothing you had experienced before. His touch was too gentle for you - too caring. 

You watch as Chris takes the outside of his index finger, dragging it along your slit, applying just enough pressure to make a moan slip from your lips. “Quiet baby,” he looks up at you, “don’t want to wake anyone, do we?” 

The way Chris is rubbing you has your head spinning circles. You barely process what he’s saying before you reply, “mmm- no,” you manage to get out. “Good, stay real quiet for me, mmkay?” he tells you before hooking his fingers in the sides of your panties and pulling them down quickly, and discarding them much like your pajama pants. Redness finds its way to your cheeks, remembering you hadn’t shaved the last couple days. Normally, you’d come prepared and look pretty but you weren’t expecting a random hookup with your best friend's brother.

The passion in Chris’ eyes only intensifies when he sees you exposed and under his control. Crouching down until he’s eye level with your heat, placing a light kiss on your bundle of nerves, earning another whimper from you. He didn’t care about the little hair poking and prodding at his lips, he wanted as much of you as you’d give him. His eyes lock themselves on yours, keeping you in a trance as he uses his tongue to his, and your, advantage. Your mouth forms the same O-shape as earlier, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better view of the beautiful man lapping at your folds. A smile pulls at his lips but quickly disappears when he wraps his hand around your thigh, pulling you closer, so he can can as much of you as possible. His mouth never leaves your heat as he pulls you closer, making his teeth rub against your clit. Unexpectedly, the impact felt really fucking good. “Fuck Chris,” you moan out before throwing your head back. 

“M’sorry” his voice comes out muffled since his mouth is still pressed against you. His immediate thought was that he was too rough. “Please keep going,” you tell him, tugging a hand through his hair once again. Chris grants your wish, flicking his tongue against your faster than before. You bury your bottom lip between your teeth as an attempt to bite back your moans, but once Chris pushes his middle finger inside you, you can’t hold back anymore. “Chrisss,” you stretch out. Your back arches off of the bed at the feeling of something finally penetrating you. Your last senseless hookup being weeks ago, you were dying to get yours off. Not that you couldn’t do it yourself, it wasn’t the same as having a male presence. Chris easily before your favorite fuck after tonight. Before you can adjust to his middle finger, he adds his ring finger too. You buck your hips at him as your way of telling him you were enjoying it. You watch Chris as he gently pushes his fingers in and out of you, flicking his tongue against your clit. The warm sensation of his tongue against you and his fingers roughly sliding in and out becomes too hard to hold back, so you reach for a pillow to drown out your cries of pleasure. 

“Fuck fuck, oh my god. Chris!” your moans come out muffled by the pillow but Chris can still hear you. Hearing you call his name only gives him more confidence to go crazy, darting his tongue against your folds while pumping his fingers at a fast pace. Repetitive little ‘uh’s fall from lips as your legs quiver, and your hands fist the pillow as he builds you up to your climax. Right as you’re about to let go, he pulls away. The ghost of his lips making you whine at him, throwing the pillow off of your face, “Chris,” you groan at the loss of contact, only wanting needing more of him.

“Tell me baby,” Chris sounds as he rubs a hand down inside of your thigh, “tell me what you want,” brushing his lips against your knee and leaving a soft kiss. 

“Fuck me,” you whimper, “I need you to fuck me,” pulling your body up from the mattress, and smashing your lips into his. “Please,” you practically beg after pulling away, letting your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips, “I need you right now.”

Whatever magic spell Chris had you under was extremely impressive - and hard to get away from. No man had ever made you feel the way he did and he hadn’t even been inside you yet. Chris nods with urgency, stepping off of the bed to undress himself. Almost like an instinct, your hand makes its way between your thighs to pleasure yourself while you wait for him to undress. Your free hand finds its way to your breast, lightly clamping your nipple between your index finger and thumb. After Chris undresses, he hovers over you, taking in the amazing view of having the girl he’s wanted for the longest, masterbating in his bed. Dragging a thumb across your bottom lip and trailing it down to the breast you aren’t fondling. He pinches lightly at your nipple, “can’t wait for me, huh?” his voice stays hoarse from the groans he had been swallowing all night, “doesn’t look like you need me.”

His words make you stop abruptly, your hand flying from your swollen clit to his erection in one quick movement. He jumps at the contact, squeezing his eyes shut. “I told you I need you, so c’mere,” you bat your eyelashes at him, not letting him go as he takes a step forward. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m leaving and we’re never mentioning this again,” the words come out a bit more domineering than normal but you were tired of waiting. 

Chris’s mouth drops, mimicking the same O-shape that was stuck on your face when he had his head buried between your thighs. You couldn’t tell if he was turned on or taken back, knowing him he was probably both. You watch him as he sinks down next to you, letting his hands roam your body until they reach your heat once again. “Fuck,” he goans as he rubs you. You take it as the perfect opportunity to wrap your lips around his cock, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking as much of him as you can in your mouth. “S-so fucking wet. So go-od, fuck,” he groans, the warm sensation of your head bobbing on his cock makes it hard for him to focus on pleasuring you. You felt like it was only right if you gave him amazing head just like he did to you. Chris’s hand rubs your back each time you pull back and push forwards like he’s giving you silent support, letting you know he enjoys it. As soon as he starts bucking his hips, indicating he’s close to finishing, you make sure to pull away, leaving him the same way he left you - needing you. 

A wild smirk stretches across his face and he opens his mouth to speak, “ahh fuck you,” he groans, earning a giggle from you. Chris positions himself between your legs. Chris rubs a few circles along your clit as he lines himself up with your opening. He applies pressure, pushing through your fold and into your body slowly. A loud moan escapes your lips making him look at you. His bottom lip clamped between his teeth, “Shhh I know, baby,” his voice soothes you in a way and you close your eyes. Chris lets his body hover over you closely, leaning down to your ear as he lets you adjust to his size, and trailing sloppy kisses from your ear to your neck. You buck against him, signaling him to move. Chris takes initiative, slowly pulling back and pushing deeper into you, earning a gasp from you. 

Chris rocks his hips back and forth, catching a rhythmic pattern, and hitting that certain spot inside of you. Your eyes widen at the feeling of your g-spot finally getting plowed into, something you’ve been needing for so long. “F-fuckk Chris,” you manage to get out, your voice getting stuck in your throat at first. In one swift motion, he pushes both of your legs to your chest so he can get better access to your dripping pussy. His other hand falls to your clit, rubbing it vigorously until your legs start to shake uncontrollably. He lets out a low chuckle, “already?” 

“Ahh- I can’t,” you whimper as fucks you into a blissful state, “please, please, Chris.” Your begging only gives him the motivation to go harder, pulling all the way out, and thrusting into you until you’re on the base of his cock. He continues the same motions, making your body shake against your own will. He props your legs up on his shoulders, letting them part slightly so he can cower down down to you. Chris peppers wet kisses all over your chest, pressing a few to your lips. As he fucks you into an incoherent state, your vision becomes fuzzy and clouded with white spots. Finally giving in to the warm tingling sensation in your stomach, you let your eyes roll back, “oh my- Chrisss!” 

Hearing you moan his name gives him the same familiar urge to fuck you to an obliterate state of mind. Small moans and cries fall from your lips while Chris plows deep inside you, filling you up right after you climax. He pulls out, earning a hiss from you, the loss of contact only makes you want him more. He lets his body collapse on top of you, laying a head on your chest, and planting another sloppy kiss against your right breast. 

“That was crazy good,” he pants before looking up at you. A smile spread across your lips as you come down from the high he just gave you, “crazy fucking good,” you tell him. A chuckle falls from his lips, earning a giggle from yours. 

Chris’s touch was too attentive, and you knew you’d be back for more. He gave you the best fuck of your life, easily. You felt pampered while he was fucking you, like you were the only thing that mattered to him, and for the moment you weren’t wrong. After seeing your love faces and cries of pleasure, he was head over heels for you, and he didn’t give a fuck what anyone had to say about it. He was determined to make you his.

[elliesspacewalker]

Imagine Ellie asking you out and taking you back to hers.

Warnings: transgender!Ellie, weed usage, sub!Ellie, oral! (E- receiving), lmk if I forgot anything

You, Ellie, Dina, and Jesse all sat outside in a park near the college you all went to together. You had a joint in hand with Ellie.

Dina and Jesse had fucked off somewhere else (probably to make out in the bathrooms) and left you and Ellie alone on the swings.

You and Ellie had never really talked; you wanted to talk to her, but you were shy; she was as well, and you never knew how to talk to people. You've seen her at parties, working at Starbucks.

When Jesse and Dina invited you to have a session with them, you immediately agreed, knowing that Ellie would be there. What you weren't expecting was for her to look so fucking hot; she was wearing gray track pants that showed her slight bulge in her dick.

You and Ellie rocked back and forth on the swings when Dina and Jesse went to the bathroom. “So,” Ellie spoke into the comfortable silence, making you snap out of your thoughts.

“Yeah?” you speak, taking a long drag from the cone you held between your fingers.

“You like dinosaurs?” She blurted out, instantly regretting the stupidity that just left her mouth. Truth be told, you made her nervous, and the fact that Dina and Jesse have fucking left her alone with you doesn't help. And the fact that your eyes kept glinting towards her crotch as you squeezed your thighs together, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, definitely didn’t fucking help.

"Uh," you chuckle at her odd question. "They're alright, I guess. Why?" She glances away, trying to avoid your gaze. "I was going to watch Jurassic World if you wanted to, y'know? Come over"

So that's how your day changed from sitting in a park with your friends to being next to Ellie watching Jurassic World.

You took a drag from the joint Ellie had given you after you set foot in her dorm as you watched Ellie avoid your gaze, eyes glued to the TV, her face flushed under your watch, fiddling with the drawstring of her gray sweatpants that had your eyes on the bulge on them since you walked in.

"Ellie?" You mumbled quietly, almost so quiet that she couldn't hear you. "Mhm?"

"Where's the bathroom?"

"Second door on the right," she smiles, with her big, puffy eyes. You get up from your seat and notice Ellie fully lying down on the couch with a pillow over her crotch. You slightly giggle to yourself as you find her bathroom and make your way out swiftly.

"You going to sit up or?" You tease her, "Oh shit," and she attempts to sit up, but you cut her off. "It's okay. I'm kind of cold, can I?" She bites her lip and nods, moving the pillow so you can slightly see the tip of her cock tucked upright inside the waistband of her track pants. You could see the slight vein that ran to the tip of her dick, the head so desperate for release.

You laid down on Ellie's stomach, slowly moving your hips up to straddle her waist. The veins that danced up her arm in unison with your own throbbing pussy drove you fucking insane.

Listening to her heartbeat and breathing, you started playing with the drawstring of her hoodie. You slightly moved back to hit her cock. This movement produced a whimper from Ellie's mouth.

"Sorry," she says quietly, "it's okay, it's cute."

After this, you slowly started to roll your hips to grind into Ellie's dick, feeling the pre-cum on your thigh. Ellie, on the other hand, was dying on the inside, trying everything in her power not to fucking moan.

You sit up and look down at her; she's slightly moving her hips upwards. You move her shirt up and bite your lip as you look at her throbbing dick. "If you want me to stop, I will," you say, and she nods embarrassingly fast.

You pull down the waistband of her track pants and wrap your small fingers around the base of her cock and slowly start stroking. Her breath hitches, and she moves her hips upwards to get more friction. Her cock was pulsating, and it got impossibly harder once you started stroking.

"Can I suck your dick?" You ask her, as you start to speed up the stroking, to watch her buck her hips upwards and her eyes roll back, "Please fuck."

You chuckle at her response and put your mouth to her tip and start to suckle slowly. Her hand finds its way to your hair, producing the loudest moan you have heard. The show is long gone by this point as you move your right hand to start stroking her cock while you suck on her tip, feeling the pre-cum bubbling in your mouth.

"Shhh-shit, fuck-baby... Fuck," she says, your doe eyes looking at her as she tilts her head back, hitting the sofa.

"Don't stop, don't stop, I'm going to cum. F-fuck," she groans, bucking up into your mouth and hitting your gag reflex. You allow her to hold your head down on the full length of her cock as she groans and cums in your mouth.

You giggle, opening your mouth and letting her see the cum on your tongue. Moving up to kiss her and spit the cum in her mouth, she allows you to and swallows her own cum.

You and Ellie are going to be good friends.

Hope y'all enjoyed <333

[pinkrelish]

do you think once miss mouse and eddie were in an established relationship she’d bake cakes for his and adrie’s birthday every year?? i feel like she’d go full out for adrie like full on multi tiered princess cake and the first time she does it eddie and his baby just go absolutely feral in the best way possible

ps typ is my favourite slow burn EVER i love it withh all my heart ur so talented

today's my birthday so it seems fitting to answer this! wc: 496

morning dawns soft blue in a kitchen warmed by low lights, and orange coils. a kettle boils water too hot for a third cup of instant coffee, and cooked sugar enriched by vanilla bakes through the small apartment. suffocating heat from the oven on the early june day breaks sweat on your forehead as you re-whip the frosting you made an hour ago, plastic bowl in your arms still cold from the fridge. the yellow cake cooling on the rack simple, homemade. jack of all trades, master of none, it's nothing impressive, just something to tide adrie and neighborhood kids over until the big party on the weekend.

still, when your big snoring man shuffles in with a bedhead halo and plaid pajama pants with one drawstring longer than the other, his raw wonder catches the husky sleep deep in his throat—"aw, baby, what're you doin'?"

you shrug, too shy to admit how early you woke up to do this, suddenly embarrassed with your effort to make a good impression on his daughter's first birthday with you in her life. he had no clue what you had planned for her real cake, and already your cheeks went hot from the lovesick shine flooding his eyes, big softy about to cry while he scratched his stomach under his shirt.

"you're too much," he says in a shake of his head. too much on a thursday morning when her party comes saturday afternoon.

his bare feet scatter the balloons creeping across the carpeted floor, blown up by him late last night until he felt faint, and ready to be popped in the energetic rush of cake for breakfast. on his way to you, he passes the one wrapped gift of a latch hook rug kit beneath the happy birthday banner you hung crooked even with his help. it was a creativity driven present to keep her busy before she got her big girl bike in two days time. training wheels most definitely included.

any second now adrie would run through the streamers you both taped to the top of her door frame, so eddie made quick work of putting the frosting aside and smothering kisses atop your head, wielding his dad strength to hug you tight to his chest, steering you into a twirl by his hold on your wrists, rocking from foot to foot until your back was crushed to his front.

tucking his chin to mash his nose to your hair, his heavy hum vibrates through your skull as he surveys the usual munson fare mingling with your new traditions, slowing your bodies to a gentle sway until his sigh empties from his lungs. "you mean everything to us, you know that?"

"i know that," you answer so softly it was lost in the bubbling hiss from the kettle before he shut off the burner. "you're everything to me, too."

"thank you, baby."

"thank you, handsome." thank you for this moment, this family, this love.

[sobbingscripter]

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader (mdni)

Tags: [adult content][tittyfucking][smaller tiddies][they were roommates][scammerxscammer]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~✧⁠*°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~✧*°

For the first time in his life, Toji's met someone just as skeezy and as sketchy as him.

It's not above you to make bets that you have no intention of fulfilling, making promises that mean nothing because breaking them, was as easy as taking candy from a baby.

Only this time, the baby was a 6 foot 4 man, with broad shoulders, familial trauma and a scar on his upper lip that stood out in the best way imaginable whenever he curled his lip in distaste at whatever smartass comment slipped from your lips across the pinewood dinner table.

"Awww, you disappointed?" You goad Toji, hands resting on your hips, just above the waistband of your sweatpants and you snort at the narrowing of his emerald pools.

You had promised him a titty-fuck if he made dinner, and it was... a feat. Toji had actually read a WikiHow article on how to make pasta, from start to finish, not missing over a single detail and here you were, tiny-titted and mocking him.

"Why don't you... get some bitches?" You snicker, before reaching over for your hoodie once again, the cotton promising warmth that the lack of an air conditioner in winter couldn't even fathom.

"Get on your knees." Toji grits out, hands tugging roughly on the frayed drawstring of his sweatpants, and he shifts, resting back against the sofa, thick muscular thighs parted to give you more access to the visible bulge in his pants.

"Huh?" Your brows furrow.

You weren't expecting that.

"You don't listen for shit but I know you're not deaf." Toji scoffs. "Get on your knees, brat."

He tugs the drawstring, undoing that knot he somehow managed to do with one very talented hand while his other had clutched his phone (you watched because the muscles in his forearm flexed).

"Titties are titties. Even..." Toji's eyes lower to your chest, gaze travelling over the swells, perky mounds that would fill his hands perfectly and he can feel his cock twitch at the mere thought. Pretty nipples that were pulled taut from the chill wind that crept in through the windows, and a low groan left his lips at the way you crossed your arms, your cleavage appearing out of hiding and that pendant dangles just between your breasts, nestled in the crease.

"Even tits that are attached to smart-mouthed, lazy, perverted, sick fucks like you."

Toji finishes what *could* be a compliment, in a mean way.

"Is this because I signed you up for that thing?" You frown, but you don't argue over anything, not that you'd really want to.

Your roommate's... pretty hot.

Especially when he wears those tight compression shirts that have you biting your knuckles, when he leans on the doorframe in that way that makes your throat bulge like a bullfrog, ready to take whatever he's willing to give.

"No." Toji grunts. "I don't give a shit about the missionaries who keep trying to give my life purpose."

Toji grabs you by the front of your pendant, pulling you towards him (forcing you to walk because you don't want to break the necklace).

And strong hands move to brace your shoulders, forcing you onto your knees and he shifts, lowering the ribbed waistband of his pants, just enough to free his thick cock.

Veiny, almost the size of your forearm, with a fiery tip leaking beads of precum and he wraps a scarred hand around the base of himself, before tapping his cock on your plump bottom lip.

"Put your tits together."

Toji's instructions leave no room for arguing and you shift closer, hands cupping the underside of your chest and pushing your breasts together, and Toji gives himself a few lazy strokes, spreading the slick of his precum all along his thick shaft. And he runs his tongue across his bottom lip.

"Do you have a condom?" You question, head tilted as you remain, hands cupping your breasts.

"No, I'm clean." He dismisses.

"But what if I'm not?"

Toji stares at you, before snorting.

"*Right*." He scoffs. "Like you could get a sexually transmitted disease, keyword, sexual."

It's a jab at your inactive sex life, only consisting of audio porn and a vibrator with batteries that you snatched from the TV remote. And Toji shifts, making himself more comfortable.

"Come on, get to it." Toji hums, his broad chest heaving with a heavy exhale.

"I can't reach."

Your words make his jaw clench, and he shifts, grabbing a few pillows and lifting you just enough for him to kick the layered pillows beneath your knees, giving you enough leverage.

And he's nestled between the small mounds, bows knitting as he watches the way you move clumsily, your hands slipping frequently, brows knitted in concentration, and he rests his head back against the sofa.

Watching you through half-lidded eyes.

"You've never done this, huh." Toji mocks, before he pulls away.

"Lie down."

"On the sofa, or on the floor?" You question and you're only met with a shrug, before you lie on the carpeted floor, a pillow beneath your head and your eyes widen momentarily when Toji straddles your waist.

"Push them together." He instructs and resting one hand above your head, broad fingers splayed on the carpet as he begins to thrust against and between your tits.

The sensation is lewd, the slippery precum making a lewd sound each time his veiny cock pushes through your cleavage, leaky tip poking out from between the soft mounds.

"If you could talk to me, it would be nice."

You break through his reverie and Toji narrows his eyes at you.

"You ain't doing shit. You're just lying there like a dead fish." He snickers, mocking you even as his speed picks up, his orgasm nearing at a speed that would be embarassing, if it wasn't for the fact that he knows his second round is always longer than his first.

"Wow, so you're titty-fucking a dead fish? Pervert." You retort, and your words are only met with a scoff, before Toji sits up, beginning to roughly and unceremoniously tug at his leaky, throbbing cock.

"Barely counts as titty-fucking." Toji insults, to which you reach a hand up, smacking him in the face. Not harder than you've done it before, but definitely not giving you the same, annoyed reaction, instead, it earns you creamy ribbons, strewn across your face and chest.

Toji's hips buck, vigorously fucking his fist as the last few spurts drip down to his fist, trickling alongside his precum and he lets out a relaxed groan, before looking down at you.

H gives you a shit-eating, lopsided grin, before his rough hands palm your chest, pushing your tits together and the lewd sound of rubbing them together, covered in cum, rings in your ears.

You can feel your cunt clench around nothing, simply from the way he looks at your chest like it's something to be revered, and worshipped.

And he brushes rough thumbs acros your sensitive buds, feeling the way your stomach clenches below him.

Toji grins, head cocking as he watches you stare up at him, opulent strings across your pretty face.

"Sensitive nipples..." He mumbles. "Good to know."

A/N: shoutout to me completing high school and writing 🌽 immediately afterwards

[illbisexual]

cuddles with the yellowjackets Warnings: fem!reader, this fic excludes Misty, Mari, Akilah, and Laura Lee Proofread: no

Lottie Matthews

Teddies GALORE on her bed

She collects the little beanie babies and you cant escape them when you go over..

Her room is usually tidy

Bed ALWAYS made before you come over

She has super cute sheets like pink floral ones that she adores

Insane amount of ribbons tied around her bedposts

she likes when your laying on top of her

Sometimes you two just lie side by side

She always has to be touching you or she goes insane

"Let me play with your hair" "no lottie I'm trying to sleep" "okay so why do you hate me.."

Jackie Taylor

Everytime you go over to her house she tries to convince you to let her do your makeup

Which you usually do let her after a few minutes of her constant "please"s

She forces you to sit on her vanity chair and she sits on the desk. Don't ask why she just does

She refuses to let you take the makeup off after she does it

After she does your makeup she drags you into bed

She plays with the drawstring of your hoodie/pants if you're wearing clothes with drawstrings

She has those cute pillows that are heart-shaped on her bed

Little spoon

She likes when you have your arms around her

She matches your breathing like a DORK !!!

Shauna Shipman

Fusses over making sure you're warm enough even though she's like a literal human heater

She liked having her arm around your shoulder and plays with the ends of your hair

She likes when you lean into her side it makes her giggle like an idiot

Halfway through cuddling she'll usually fall asleep and roll over and accidentally smother you

If she doesn't fall asleep she shoves a pillow in your face which prompts a pillow fight

..which she usually wins. Like always

She makes fun of you for "looking sleepy" when she looks like she's about to fall asleep standing up about 50% of the time she's with you

Your voice just makes her tired she doesn't know why

Taissa Turner

Blankets upon blankets stacked on her bed

it doesn't help her room is like an oven

You step one foot into her room and immediately you have to take your jacket off or you'll cook alive 😭

She makes you pick out a CD to play and then makes you put it in the CD player because shes too lazy too

You spend atleast 10 minutes just adjusting to how heavy her covers are

She has her arms wrapped around you constantly

She goes dead silent and just when you think she's fallen asleep she starts giggling and calls you an idiot

you guys sing along quietly to the music playing

Natalie Scatorccio

She usually goes over to your house after school

When you do go to her house she doesnt even give you the chance to properly get through the trailer door before shes dragging you to her room

She puts music on immediately and closes her door

You convince her to paint your guys' nails

She then proceeds to get pissed at you when you mess up your nail polish she just painted

She's over it in the next 5 minutes when your in bed with her

She likes to lie in between your legs and wrap her arms around your waist and she rests her head on your stomach

She sings quietly when you mess with her hair

She plays with her rings and she feels really peaceful with you

Van Palmer

You guys walk home from school together to her house usually

You crash into bed with her the minute you get into her room

You guys fight over the covers for a couple of minutes until you both start laughing and eventually sort them out

she strikes me as the kind of girl to have like.. christmas/Halloween bed sheets on even though its the middle of September

"What? I'm getting in the spirit" "or did you just get forced to change your bed sheets??" "Maybe.."

She makes you braid her hair for her, or just makes you do it general

But you don't kind because you like running your hands through her hair

And pulling on it and watching her offended face as she whips her head around to look at you

She has her arms wrapped around you and you have your arms wrapped around her

[eyelessjacksfleshlight]

ʟᴜᴄɪᴅ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐦 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐜𝐨𝐧

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕𝟓𝟐

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴ . ʙʟᴜʀʙ . ꜰᴜʟʟ ʟᴇɴɢᴛʜ . ᴀᴏ3

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Nothing could have prepared you for the strong metallic scent of blood wafting through the desolate cabin. Your breathing constricted with each step, slowly rounding the cracked plaster corner of the hallway only to lay your eyes on a heaving seven-foot-tall man. He stands in the middle of what should be the living room, staring at nothing, fists clenching and unclenching. Your eyes trail to his messy brown hair; dirt, debris, and dried blood clump the wavy strands together. The indent of a black strap nestles nicely within the tangles of his hair, the band connecting to the deep blue mask that is all too familiar.

What catches your eye next is just how bloody he is. The gray button-up shirt seems to stick to his muscular upper body, the blood being the glue that holds it together. Crimson liquid drips from his dark gray forearms to the scuffed wooden floor, leaving stains that will never come out. You couldn’t help but notice how his khaki pants fit so nicely around his thick thighs and ass, but the thoughts didn’t linger long as the next thing your poor human brain comprehends is his dark and gravelly toned voice.

“Come here,” he states, leaving no room for argument. Your body feels numb, buzzing with anticipation and fear. It is hard to ignore the lump in your throat that prevents you from speaking, so you take nervous steps toward the man instead–if that is even what you could call him. The way his ashen gray skin fades into black asphalt from his forearms to his fingertips says otherwise. You try not to think about it too much, as indifference is the key to survival.

So you approach him, head craning up to look into the abyss of his eye sockets that lead like tunnels into hell, presumably where he came from. Goosebumps rise on your skin. The mixture of the cold cabin air hitting your exposed legs and arms and the intensity of his stare makes it challenging to stand normally.

Your eyes break his gaze and your hands come up to rub your upper arms to try to create some semblance of warmth. Hard nipples poke through the thin cotton material of your tiny tank top. A small rose in the middle of the collar compliments the pale blue fabric nicely. It has a vintage vibe that makes you wonder just how old it is. You didn't have many options, this being the few articles of clothing that was left in the two-bedroom cabin. The top fitting in the first place is a miracle since the shorts you wore did not. They're too big and flared for your liking–the only saving grace being the drawstrings on the band. You had asked him for your clothes back from that first day, but he had shaken his head, saying something along the lines of, “They’re stained. You don’t want them.”

“Closer,” he whispered, voice breaking up your clouded brain. You didn’t want to come closer because if you did, your bare feet would be standing in the pool of blood that continues to drip from him. Your mind ran a thousand thoughts per second, scared of what would happen if you refused, and terrified of what would come of you if you listened.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” He questioned, cocking his head to the left, that horrible blue mask still concealing his face. You knew enough about him to understand that he is very matter-of-fact, not one to sugarcoat or beat around the bush. At times it frustrated you, it made him sound robotic and inhumane, and you guess it makes sense because nothing about the figure towering in front of you said ‘human.’ Other times, it helps because you know theres nothing he would be hiding.

Letting out a shaky exhale, you shake your head no, relying on your body to communicate rather than your wavering voice. Cold enveloped your feet; it was thicker than water and felt horrible against the pads of your feet. You gasped at the sensation, hands coming up to grip his half-buttoned shirt, which you immediately regretted because it felt the same as the floor–cold, hard, and wet.

“What do you want?” You try to keep your voice from sounding frightened, but you doubt it helps. His large hand came up to cup your cheeks, thumb spreading more of that sickly red liquid under your right eye, which squeezed shut at the feeling.

“You.”

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: edit: its out now! so this was just a little blurb of a smut thats currently in the works! its all the way done, lookin at about 6k words but it just needs to get edited! the full thing will be published on ao3 cause the contents are too much for tumblr to handle lol but ill make another post for that with the link when its done!

[notoverjoyed]

First chapter of my Invisobang Fic! If you prefer reading on tumblr, check below the cut. No warnings for this chapter. More chapters to come, as well as art from my event partners!

Fading Away

A story in which Vlad struggles to understand the origin of an urge darker and baser than any obsession.

Chapter 1: Thinner

"I must be losing weight," Vlad Masters mutters softly to himself while standing in the foyer of his mansion in Amity Park, leaning against the hand carved wood of the front door. He’s wearing one of his more expensive tailored suits in a cool gray, and had just arrived home from a televised press conference at Amity Park city hall. His pants were so loose that he’d feared they would drop every time he shifted from one foot to the other at the podium.

Nothing unusual happened at the press conference, outside of his loose pants. He’d just announced a city wide effort to repair the damage after an extended chase and subsequent battle between young Daniel and a particularly destructive animal ghost. Afterwards, he’d sat down for a working dinner with a few prominent donors to the project. Even after such a rich meal, his pants were no tighter, threatening to slip down every time he stood up.

Tugging at his suit pants for the umpteenth time that day, he counts himself lucky that they remained at his hips rather than his knees during the press conference. Daniel certainly didn’t need live televised ammunition to fuel his petty teenage insults. Truly, he didn’t have the energy for it today.

Drooping with fatigue, he heaves himself off the door and moves toward the stairs leading to the master bedroom. Normally his mayoral duties wouldn’t cost him any real effort, but today was unexpectedly exhausting.

‘Perhaps I should turn in early today,’ he thinks to himself.

The master bedroom is shrouded in darkness, the deep green curtains drawn against the warm light of early evening, leaving only an amber sliver to escape between their folds and drape across bed covers. He doesn’t bother turning on the bedroom light, but heads straight to a small dresser between his bed and the closet. Opening the top drawer, he quickly changes into a pair of silk pajamas, their red color flashing bright in that splinter of light, and lays his suit carefully on a nearby chair. Now freed from his sagging pants, he finds he needs to tighten the drawstring on the pajama bottoms. It’s not just the suit, it seems.

Tired as he is, he can’t let even this small mystery lie, and fetches a tape measure from his nightstand. He measures twice, just to be sure, holding the tape up to the light each time, but the tape measure doesn’t lie. He’s definitely gotten smaller in the waist.

Vlad frowns down at the measure in his hands. It’s true, he’d always been slim, but his human form had been consistent in size since he’d left the hospital all those years ago. He can’t recall ever a difference of one or two inches in his waist size in the past decade at least.

Having confirmed that he’s lost size, he decides to dig out a scale and see if he really has lost weight. He steps into the bathroom and flips the light switch. The bathroom light is almost blinding against the dark of his bedroom, and he squints toward the cupboard he thinks the scale was left in. He steps toward it, but then he catches a view of himself in the bathroom mirror. He looks very thin today, almost gaunt. Perhaps stress…

“I suppose I have been working hard,” he murmurs out loud. His gaze drifts down back to the tape measure still in his hands, and he rubs at the number marking his new, smaller waist size. Had his hands always looked so skeletal?

[talkfastromance4]

Slow motion—Ashton blurb

Warnings: mentions of being high, consuming a gummy, high sex, some fluff and giggles

Word count: 724

Feedback is welcome!

••••

It’s slow building at first. The gummy bear torn in half was slow acting and you first felt it in your head, a certain type of weightlessness. The warm glow of his salt lamp paints him in warm fuzziness and it makes you giggle then you touch your lips.

“What’s wrong?”Ashton squints at you.

“My lips are fuzzy…” you probe them with your fingers. “Like caterpillars.” You gasp. “They’re gonna turn into butterflies and leave!”

“No they won’t, I won’t allow it,” he giggles then moves his fingers forward. They tangle with yours, grazing your parted lips. “Never let these lips go.”

“You better catch ‘em quick.”

And now it’s in slow motion.

You and Ashton meeting in the middle of your conversation pit, lips colliding, fingers threading through hair. And then you’re falling in slow motion, down and back onto the fluffy pillows and comforters. The words of Bob Dylan play overhead, sweeping in and out of your ears. 

Then Ashton is tracing the ladder of your ribs with the length of his fingers. You’re tugging his tank top up and over his muscles leaving his hair fluffed. He traces your lips delicately. You feel each caress.

“You are soft,” he whispers. 

“Are your lips soft and fuzzy, too?”

“Kiss me and find out,” he grins.

It’s slow motion with lips touching lips. His hands are under your shirt again, inching higher and higher until your shirt rolls over your breasts. You rise up gently letting him remove it. Soft palms on your breasts. 

“These are soft, too,” he mumbles. Silken lips trace your neck. Your fingers undo the drawstring of his sweatpants and then you’re skin to skin. 

Bob Dylan transferred to The Weeknd. Ashton’s lips leaving a heated trail down your body. He’s glowing in amber light and he’s rolling your pants down your legs. Hot lips on warm legs, the tips of his hair tickling your knees. Warm lips on lips. 

“All of you is soft, too,” you whisper on his jaw.

Bodies begin to rock and sway. You’re weightless and weighted beneath him. As you connect in hushed whispers you’re ascending. You’re moaning in his ear and his ankle brushes your foot. Fuzziness fills your body and when you laugh it’s like bubbles in his ear. 

“What’s funny?” he smiles, nose bumping yours. 

“Now my feet are fuzzy,” you can’t stop giggling. His hips snap against yours in the perfect way and you moan. You nibble on his ear. His pulls and thrusts elicit intense points of pleasure. 

“You’re silly,” he laces his fingers with yours. Lips brush your ear. “My silly girl.”

Your lovemaking is slow and meticulous, every neuron is fired up. Your head feels fluffy. Your body floating. Ashton is everywhere and anywhere. 

“Love you,” you sigh.

“Love you more.”

Giggles happen with kisses as you ride the rollercoaster of consistent pleasure. It’s exhilarating and relaxing. You tap his side and he rolls over leaving you on top. His hands help guide your hips up and down. Each pull is pulling you tighter and pulling you apart at the same time.

His fingertips graze and squeeze over your skin. His mouth sucks on the soft skin of your neck and then it’s silky against your tongue. Breath to breath you fall apart but Ashton keeps you upright with the motion of his hips until he’s spent as well.

You’re warm and sticky and fuzzy with gooey thoughts and a blissed out smile. He tilts your face up, his fingertips brushing your lips. Your body rises and falls with his breathing, music notes soak over your pores.

“That was a dream,” he says.

“Let’s never wake up,” you shake your head and kiss the pad of his finger. “Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry, can we make popcorn?”

You’ve got on a long tank top and you’re leaning on his counter as you watch the popcorn rotate in the microwave. You’re humming a song to yourself and Ashton rests his hands on your hips.

“What song is that?”

“You don’t know?” 

“Sing a bit for me,” he kisses the top of your bare shoulder.

“My life’s just a carousel spinnin around poppin some corn.”

You both double over in laughter falling to the floor as the popcorn burns above you. It’s still the best popcorn you’ve ever had.

Taglist: @calumance  @in-superbloom @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran  @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower​ @mymindwide​ @itjustkindahappenedreally  @seanna313 @pandaxnienke @celestialams @in-a-world-of-fandoms @blairscott @writersdare

[leosficlist]

Johnlock Smut Recs part 3!

Smut List 1, Smut & Fluff, Smut List 2

The Case of the Vanishing Pants by SwissMiss 

Five times John and Sherlock lost their pants in the course of a case.

notes: on cases, ust, delightful read

Positive reinforcement by Mildredandbobbin 

John has been kidnapped so often that he and Sherlock have developed a rescue procedure. John is understandably unimpressed when Sherlock decides to have a practice session without actually telling him -- that is until Sherlock provides some motivation. Sexy kinky fun times ensue.

Buried Far by orphan_account

The deep baritone voice bled into the room like spilled wine on a white table cloth, seeping into John from head to foot. He turned over. Sherlock was silhouetted in the doorway, looming and mysterious, coat and all. John could trace the contours of that silhouette with the wrong hand and his eyes closed.

notes: virginlock, first time, kinda body worship for sherlock

Hell or High water by bluefire301175

John wants. Sherlock wants. Plain and simple

notes: alley sex, coming in pants, first person john

Drawstring by May_Shepard

"Are those new?" John blurts the question. It comes out a bit shouty. There's an edge to his voice. "Are what new?" Sherlock asks, holding the sheet music in his elegant hands. John gestures in the direction of Sherlock's lower half. His eyes are stuck, embarrassingly so, on the way the pyjamas sit, just a bit lower than usual, over Sherlock's arse, which is still bent over the desk. "Your pyjamas." Still too loud. He repeats himself, managing to lower his volume to something approaching normal: "Your pyjamas."

The Detective and the Pin-Up by XistentialAngst

Sally Donovan discovers an old secret John Watson considered long buried - a ten-year old "Men of the Armed Forces" calendar, which has John as a very enticing pin-up for August. The image of John might just change the way everyone sees the unassuming sidekick, even Sherlock Holmes. Rated NC-17 for eventual smut, but the story reasonable concludes before that chapter if you prefer fluff and humor.

an unexpected out-cum by simplyclockwork locked 4.3k words

Sherlock Holmes doesn't do sex. Until he does.

notes: rough-ish first time, john appealing to sherlocks kink for getting yelled at, coming in pants

Don't Hurry by berlynn_wohl  1.9k

It was always an entertaining change of pace when things didn’t go exactly Sherlock’s way.

notes: cute kinda snippy with each other comfortable sex

Palace malfunction by Ireallydontcare443

John is the cause of Sherlock's mind palace malfunction.

notes: est relationship but first time

A Natural, Human Reaction by cwb 2.5k words

Sherlock is on bed rest and Mrs Hudson has abandoned giving him a much needed sponge bath in order to save her scones. John offers to help finish the job, and a reluctant Sherlock accepts.

Perchance to Dream by scribblesinthebyline

Sherlock has been the voyeur to people's dreams for as long as he can remember. It's why he hates sleeping.

That is, until he stumbles into one of John Watson's dreams. Then suddenly sleep isn't so unwelcome.

notes: a little magical fantasy for your dirty fantasy piece

Medical Massage for Dummies by kipli 

John's back aches the morning after Sherlock uses John as his personal stepladder to continue the chase. Sherlock surprisingly offers to work out the knots himself, only to find John's reaction to his massage intriguing.

Ridiculous by professorfangirl (lizeckhart) 

"Sherlock tugged him close and in a show of possession ran a hand over his arse, smiling at him archly, tugging his jeans down so the red of his pants would show. The humiliation was almost more than John could take. Sherlock turned to chat up the bartender. He didn’t flirt, exactly; he just used his coercive beauty to open the man up like a paperback. They had their heads together when over Sherlock’s shoulder John saw a dark man with ice-blue eyes moving towards them through the crowd. John reached for Sherlock’s arm just as a wiry boy in worn leathers took the detective from behind and set a knife at his throat."

notes: BAMF John

[y2ksnowglobe]

Sparrow Oak Garcia Cosplay Part 17

Alright in the home stretch, everything is coming together and I'm fighting how tired my job makes me to keep making progress.

So we sew the totally not homestuck pockets onto the butt portion of the pants.

Then we deviate from the pattern to create a waist band. I wanted to keep up the patchwork look, so I took some scraps and put them together to make the waistband. Then I realized I didn't have my buttonhole foot for my machine and had to search up a youtube tutorial on how to make buttonholes so that my drawstrings had something to go through. I tried a few methods for drawstrings but was having a hard time making them work, so I just folded some bias tape in half, finally got to use the leaf pattern design on my machine to add some detail, and sewed the lining and the outer layer together, and then with much stabbing and cursing, got the waist gathered so I could put the waistband on.

This part of the process is very dangerous because you will put the pants on to see how the waist feels and fall in love with how comfy they are even though you're not done. Convincing yourself to take them off again will be an ordeal.

Once again with much cursing and stabbing, I set out to gather and put a border hem thing on the bottoms of the pant legs. And then I was done! And very very happy. My only complaint is that I put the side pockets in a bit low, so my arms don't have to bend to put my hands in them and it feels a little weird, but everything else? Amazing!

I feel like I now need to reveal/shout out @macksartblock for their teen Sparrow drawings that left me going, "I need those pants in my life" before turning into "I'm going to make a whole cosplay based on this fit." Your art is awesome and trying to make this outfit a reality has helped get out of my comfort zone and try new skills in my own craft.

Sparrow Cosplay: Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

[super-weed-ninja]

for a ficlet or doodle prompt, leo and mikey getting up to shenanigans?

Hi! I really appreciate your patience on this one! The writing demon took some time getting back to me. Enjoy some shenaniganery <3

Michelangelo stepped from one foot to the other and back again as he rubbed his sleeves together.  His brother pulled the bottom of the zipper together for him, patiently reaching around his arms to zip the jacket closed.  Leonardo then pulled the hood low over Michelangelo's head until it covered his eyes.  Michelangelo giggled, blindly reaching out to retaliate with the soft hood of Leonardo's denim jacket.  He was shushed gently, and both boys crept to the front door of the apartment, all smiles between them.

They had woken up before everyone else and already watched some cartoons and played with their toys.  What, in reality had been just over an hour of compelled quiet time, to the two early risers felt like eons of waiting.  Leonardo was bored, and Michelangelo's stomach had started growling.

It was Michelangelo's idea that they go to the little bodega down the street. He mimicked the motions of the inattentive clerk, nose in the newspaper and one eye on the tiny box tv next to the register. April had taken them a few times, and while she always handled the transaction, the man had never spared them a look, so Leonardo happily agreed to the excursion.  Besides, they were both starving.

By the time Michelangelo's stomach grumbled a third time, he had dragged Leonardo over to the closet and started pulling their coats out. Leonardo made sure they were well prepared for the trip.  He didn't think to hesitate for very long.  They all knew the way to the store, and Leonardo had watched his brothers outside before, so this adventure seemed perfectly reasonable.  Just a few nights ago April had commented on how grown up he was!

"Remember the rules?" He asked. They shuffled down the stairs to the building's exit together.  Michelangelo rubbed his sleeve back and forth against the side of his coat in little swipes.  The sound was grating to Leonardo's ears, but he talked over it.

"We gotta stay covered up so humans don't see us," he began, the most important rule.  Michelangelo pulled on the drawstrings of his hood; he remembered that one.  They pushed open the glass door together and stepped out onto the cool concrete, and Leonardo realized they forgot shoes.  Michelangelo was already plodding down the sidewalk towards the convenience store.  At least the pants he'd chosen were a little too long for them.  Leonardo caught up with his brother and took his hand.

"Make sure we stay together now," Leonardo instructed.  "Like Splinter said!"

Michelangelo made a face at him and he responded by sticking out his tongue.  "April said I did a good job being leader last time we went to the store, so you should listen to me-WHOA!"

Michelangelo gripped Leonardo's hand, stopping him in his tracks before he walked right into traffic.  Leonardo grimaced and back-peddled.

"Whoops!" he squeaked, and Michelangelo elbowed him lightly.  Leonardo pushed him back, keeping hold of his hand.  "Ok, good job remembering to look both ways!"

~~~~

"Ya can't have all that," said the store clerk.

Michelangelo shook his fists over his head. One hand held several bags of chips, and the other held bags of different kinds of candy.  Leonardo stood on his toes next to him, careful not to poke his beak too far out from under his hood.  The man had his nose in the paper and hadn't even looked up at them.

"I forgot about money," he frowned at Michelangelo. "April always does it."

Leonardo looked up at the clerk.  "Uhm, could we take the chips and come back with money?" he asked.

"You come back with money, and then you get the snacks.  This ain't no charity."

The man hadn't started reading the morning paper yet, but had still paid them little mind since they entered the bodega. Leonardo opened his mouth to plead again, and caught the man's eye moving to look past his overgrown eyebrows at them. He tugged on his brothers sweater until Michelangelo took a step back, pouting.

"Come on," Leonardo said, carefully adjusting his hood and turning Michelangelo around.  "Let's go back and ask April. We can wait a lil longer."

Michelangelo whined and dropped his arms at last, handing over the many bags of treats he'd picked out.  Leonardo placed them on the countertop, ducking his head slightly.  The man watched uncharacteristically closely until the boys turned to leave again.

"There's usually more a' you inn't there?" He gruffed.

"Yes," Leonardo answered. "Our brothers and April."

The man beckoned them back with a finger, then sighed when they hesitated.

He pointed at the pile of snacks, then held up a finger.  "One each," he said. "For you an' the other two. Make sure next time ya bring enough to pay it back!"

Leonardo and Michelangelo blinked at each other once, then twice, then grinned.

"Thank you!" Leonardo chirped, quickly picking two of the treats for Donatello and himself, while Michelangelo picked Raphael's and his own.  They dashed from the store giggling to themselves and feeling light as air.

Leonardo found it easy to keep track of directions, and nudged Michelangelo the correct way home.  The smaller turtle insisted though, pointing out a cat that was snoozing on a chair outside the shop a few doors down in the opposite direction.  Curiosity piqued, the brothers crept up to it.  They'd seen Splinter shoo away cats that wandered the sewers like them, searching for scraps and a safe corner to sleep.  Never had they been close enough to touch one.

Eyes blown wide and shining with excitement, Michelangelo reached out first, carefully stroking the top of the orange kitty's head with one finger. His delighted squeal stirred the creature, who blinked lazily up at them, and brought Leonardo to giggles as well. The cat, apparently used to the attention, allowed them to pet and scritch his ears, until an anxious voice exclaimed behind them, startling him.

"Leonardo! Michelangelo!"

While the cat darted into the shop, the boys turned to see April jogging up to them, frazzled and looking less put together than she normally did before going out. As she reached them, she took their hands and ducked over them, guiding the pair away from the storefronts and muttering about them leaving without saying anything. Recognizing her concern, the boys pulled their hoods low over their heads again, still smiling at each other as April led them back to her apartment.

[tally-kiza]

no brain, head empty, only arthur smut thoughts.

i keep imagining watching a movie with arthur. maybe one of his favorites, an old astaire film he’s seen 100 times and counting but every time he gets just as deeply engrossed as if it was his first watch all over again. you’re cuddling with him on the couch, arthur only in his sweatpants and bunched white socks, his bare boney shoulder poking into your arm as he leans against you. you don’t mind though.

he’s completely enthralled, eyes never leaving astaire’s form sweeping across the screen in a meticulously choreographed dance. youre not paying attention to the film though. not when a much better show is pressed against you. arthurs head is slightly below your own in this position, giving you the perfect view of him. you soak him in like a sponge in the sea. the strong profile of his face, his long dark eyelashes framing expressive green eyes now crinkled with laugh lines as he smiles, his long slicked back hair still drying from the bath. 

and then your gaze dips lower. from prominent collarbones still stained with a dark hickey from your earlier encounter with him, down to arthur’s smattering of chest hair and prominent ribs, do your eyes lead a trail. 

at one of astaire’s quips to his costar, arthur repeats it under his breathe, eyes fluttering shut. he sags further against you. 

and yet further down your eyes stray, slowly tracing down the dip of his boney hips into where they disappeared below his threadbare drawstring sweatpants. hunger bloomed within you. through his thin clothes, when the light of the television lit the dark room just perfectly, you could just make out the outline of his cock. 

and that hunger grows. 

arthur’s foot starts tapping to the beat of a new song. he’s completely lost in a world of his own.

and the most delicious idea sprouts in your head. 

you nestle closer against him, until arthur’s practically half in your lap. one arm is looped around his back, your lips right at level with his temple. so distracted is he, that he doesn’t even blink, only the slightest shiver shaking through him. arthur curled up closer against you. 

but his contented gaze never leaves the screen.

not even does he react as your free hand snakes around his skinny stomach, lightly tracing shapes, that trace lower... and lower... until you’re playing with the exposed waistband of his briefs. something in arthur’s face twitches. something in his pants does the same. you press your lips against his temple, right as astaire does simultaneously with his costar. 

it’s not until your hand dips under his clothes, and wraps around his member does arthur finally react. he jolts from your touch, confused green eyes cutting to yours. the pale grey light of the television hit his face at just the perfect angle, and in that moment you’re certain no star could shine brighter than his eyes. his cock twitches again with your every light stroke. not hardening yet but the sudden flush blooming across his face tells you all you need to know.

arthur rasps quietly, “what are you-”

“shh...”

he shudders under your touch as you work him to arousal, eyes squeezing shut now. and you press another kiss there, right at the corner of his crinkling eye. his face was the perfect picture of desperation already. your pretty boy. always so responsive.

sounding small and far away, as if in a whole other world entirely, astaire croons a beautiful serenade.

you murmur lowly into his ear. “...just keep watching for me.”

[tinfoilbutters]

Butters outfit headcanons please!

Alright fellas strap in, because this is the character I've put the most thought in.

For daily Butters' I see him wearing a fleece jacket, similar to the NorthFace ones. Some times he wears a graphic tee under it, sometimes it's a normal tee shirt.

For his pants I once saw someone say that he wears corduroy pants, and I love it. I remember having a pair growing up. For his shoes I think a low rise boot/loaf that's water resistant

Moving on to my pride and joy, Professor Chaos. I see his cape being made of a spare sheet, held together by a clasp made of a broken necklace chain and the tops of cans. His vest is made of nylon ripstop and based off another Northface thing i saw. He wears green jeans, canvas shoes, and his tinfoil armor is precariously assembled with love and a lot of tape. (Stay tuned for my final costume idea)

Moving on to paladin Butters.

His circlet is a cute plastic crown. He's got shoulder armor similar to that of a foot ball quarterback's. His tunic/surecloth is made from an old shirt that belonged to his father. Butters modified it to better fit him (his father didn't approve, but this isn't about that)

The belt is made of a drawstring that he found somewhere, all of it is worn over his everyday pants and shoes. He also wears those latex gloves for doing dishes. (Once again stay tuned for my final costume idea.)

Ending with with his cute Halloween jamies.

They're footie pjs made of a cotton jersey fabric. (This is here mainly bc these are Uber cute and I an and will make a jacket based off it)

Now its time for Kass' final costume edit ™

These are my irl notes,and in my au, Butters gets a real cool babysitter, who has a freak knowledge on sewing.

Professor Chaos stays similar to Butters' og design. The only difference being in the cape, which was now made of a lightweight satin. That was chosen because it looks sick as heck. The tinfoil armor took a different shape, due to it being wrapped around cardboard to increase durability.

Paladin Butters has a more drastic change .

His cape is now one of those giant scarf cape things made of a lightweight linen. His tunic and surcoat are now separate pieces with the tunic being made of light cotton and the surecoat being made of wool. His belt is made of a faux leather cord that matches his boots. His gloves are made of faux suede and lined with sherpa.

The crest that's on the surecoat has a hammer discretly embroidered in it.

In my first version of it, the crest included a banner saying "Conplecte Abyssum" which is a Latin phrase roughly meaning "to embrace chaos"

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

tti episode 2

“Last time on Total! Takes! Island! 22 campers participated in their first challenge: a one-thousand foot dive into shark-infested waters. Most campers took the plunge, but a few were feathered and tarred by their teammates- and me! In the end, it was Fren who walked the dock of shame, and Ass who lived to play another day. Who will go home this week? Find out today, on Total! Takes! Island!”

Another beautiful morning in Wawanakwa- that is, unless you’re a camper being woken up bright and early. 

“It’s 6 AM!” Bonnie yells out the window as air horns blare over the intercom. 

“Rise and shine, sleepyheads!” Chris shouts through his megaphone. “It’s challenge time!”

The campers collect outside of their cabins, groggy and tired. Frollo arrives first, carrying his Bible with him, much to Max’s annoyance. “Are you really gonna bring that thing with you everywhere all season?”

Frollo looks thoroughly unamused. “Yes,” 

Julia steps out next, yawning and rubbing her eyes under her glasses. She glares at both Max and Frollo as they stare at her before being ran into by Michael, who wasn’t watching where she was going. 

Mal is, of course, up bright and early, smiling. Ass stares at her with heavy bags under their eyes. “Morning person?”

“Nah, just snuck some coffee from the mess hall before Chris came out here. Want some?” She offers a thermos. Ass smiles and accepts the gift. 

“Morning, campers! Hope you had a good night of sleep, because your next challenge starts in eight minutes!” The crowd responds with a groan, much to Chris’ delight. “Time for your twenty kilometer run around the island!”

“Are you kidding me!?” Caesar shouts. Chris rolls his eyes. “You know I would never joke about torture,”

Chef walks up behind the crowd and blasts an air horn, shocking all of the campers into running (with the exception of Bonnie and Caesar, who sigh and walk instead). 

“Well, this blows. No one’s even had a huge meltdown yet,” Bonnie says, hands in their hoodie pockets as they walk. 

“Oh, they will,” Caesar chuckles. “Trust me on that.”

Bonnie shrugs and keeps walking at a steady pace as the two pass O, who's wheezing on the ground. 

The inside of the mess hall looks like a refugee hospital as the campers who have arrived already lie on the floor, the benches, the tables, panting and coughing. Joner groans for water, weakly holding a hand up, which McLovin (lying beside him) shakily high-fives. 

Peter and Sha-Mod come bounding in, breathing through their mouths. Even the picture of Lightning is red-faced as they complete this leg of the challenge for their team. 

“That’s everyone, McLame,” Patrick snaps. “Where’s our prize?”

“Oh, no,” Chris says. “This is just the beginning!”

Everyone groans. “Don’t worry, dudes, I’m sure you’ll love this part!”

Chris pulls a drawstring by a pair of heavy purple curtains and reveals a glamorous buffet, lined with every fattening, carb-heavy food you could imagine: breadsticks, mac n cheese, potatoes in all forms, a ham and a giant turkey, beans, and with dessert to spare. The whines and groans of the Fujoshis are stifled as they stare in ecstasy, and then dig in.

When they finish up, Chris giggles. “Ready for part two?”

“Part two?” McLovin groans. “Wasn’t this part two?”

“Just the beginning, my friend, just the beginning,” the host chuckles back. “It’s time for the Awake-a-Thon!”

“Don’t worry, dudes, this is an easy one! Your only goal is to stay awake!” Chris chuckles. “Whichever team member survives the twelve-hour marathon wins!”

---

MAL: “Well, I can’t say I’m proud of myself for not remembering this from the original season, but… something possessed me seeing that food. After a week of inedible garbage, it was like seeing my Twitter account finally being unsuspended after a month on my alt!”

---

10 HOURS IN

“We are ten hours into the Awake-a-Thon, and miraculously, everyone remains awake,” Chris says softly, gesturing to the contestants behind him. 

Mal sits on a patch of dead grass, using the uncomfortable surface to keep her awake. She turns to Peter, who’s looking like a zombie. 

“Hey, are you-”

And with that, Peter falls backwards and is out cold. Mal sighs. 

“One down,” McLovin mutters, mildly annoyed. 

Courtney shrugs. “Could be worse, right? I should’ve known this was coming, I've seen the original a thousand times.”

“I don’t blame you, that stupid run put my brain on the backburner. And those beans were really good,”

“Agreed,” they smile. 

The Anons are faring much better without having had the feast, though they look more “sickly and fatigued” tired than “warm and comfy” tired. 

Austin turns to Kelly, eyes tired. “How’re you holding up, baby?”

She yawns. “Well. You?”

“A little bummed we missed out on that groovy meal, but glad I have you to keep me company, eh?” he winks, earning a little blush from Kelly in return. 

O raises an eyebrow at the two from a few feet away.

---

O: “Listen, I try not to watch Total Drama too much, but I know an alliance is forming when I see one. If I’m gonna make this, I’m gonna need friends.”

---

O turns to Joner and tries to smile. “Hey man, how’re you holding up?”

He smiles back. “Tired, but good! How’re you?”

“Could be better. Hey, listen…” O points to Kelly and Austin, and then looks back at Joner. “You seem like a friendly guy, right?”

“I try!”

“Well, from one friend to another, I’d watch out for Kelly and Austin,” he mutters. “There’s an alliance brewing there.”

Joner’s eyes widen. “An alliance?!”

“You bet. And now both of us are at risk cause Kelly and Austin are the nicest players on the team. There’s no way anyone would vote them out,”

“Well… I don’t know, I’m not the biggest Austin fan,” Joner yawns. “He didn’t treat my buddy Michael very kindly yesterday.”

“Well, we’re in the minority on that. Look at them!”

O points. Kelly finishes a flower crown of daisies and dandelions and places it on Austin’s head. A butterfly lands on his shoulder and a beam of sunlight pierces the clouds and washes over them. 

“I see what you mean, man,” Joner says. “Who else can we get in on this?”

“Well, who else do you think would hate to see nice people having fun?”

Both turn to Max. 

FIFTEEN HOURS IN

Courtney’s head droops, and they’re only awoken when McLovin shakes them violently. 

“Jeez,” they mutter. “I almost lost myself there. Thanks, MC.”

“No problem. Just gotta… stay on top of the game…”

Courtney and McLovin are out seconds after. 

Michael’s eyes close for a moment too long and Max immediately splashes her face with cold water. “God! What the hell!”

“Don’t you dare fall asleep,” Max hisses. 

“You have a lot of energy in you for someone of your size,” Scary comments. 

Austin nods. “Like a baby chihuahua, baby,”

“My great-great-great grandfather on my mom’s side was the best chihuahua breeder to ever live,” Staci yawns. “True story.”

“Yeah, that’s fascinating,” Max says, taking a seat far away from everyone else. 

O and Joner make eye contact and take the opportunity to sit beside him. “You’re not that short,” O says. “My uncle is 4’9 and he’s a heavy weight lifting champion.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s just that Austin, huh?” Joner says. “Always making trouble.”

“Not making enough trouble, if you ask me,” 

“Yeah, that too!”

Across the way, Patrick slumps over, dead asleep. His headphones slip off and reveal he’s been listening to Madonna. 

Joner coughs, redirecting the attention back to him. “Say, if you wanted to, perhaps, join an alliance with the two of us.. Keep us safe… we wouldn’t mind,”

Max yawns. “Yeah. Whatever,”

O silently pumps his fist and nods, then sneaks off with Joner to fist bump. 

20 HOURS IN

Michael and Staci are out cold on the ground. Kelly and Austin lean on each other, and O and Scruffy keep kicking each other in their sleep. 

Scary’s eyes are open, but they’re not moving. 

“Can someone check if… if she’s dead?” Max mutters. Joner steps up and stumbles over, poking his shoulder. Scary coughs.

“Not dead. Asleep,”

“Damnit,” Max groans, before promptly slumping forwards and tumbling to the ground, fast asleep. Joner winces. 

---

JONER: “I was sitting there, like, if we lose, it’s gonna be on me,” he yells at the confessional camera, eye bags still heavy. “And then Max will drop the alliance and throw me and O to the wolves! I can’t let us down like that! and I especially can't leave Michael and McLovin alone. It's really hard to notice, but... they're not too close.”

---

“Gotta stay up… gotta stay up…” Joner murmurs, slapping himself every other sentence. 

“Congratulations, campers!” Chris says merrily. “You’ve made it to the 24 hour mark! Let’s kick things up a notch with some good old fashioned... fairy tales!”

“God, no…” Julia groans. 

“Once upon a time, there was… a quiet, sleepy village,” Chris says in a soft, soothing voice. Chef plays the harp nearby, adding a melodic tune to the dreary reading. “And in this quiet, sleepy village… nothing happened… ever”

Sha-Mod and Kitty collapse into each other, bonking their heads and getting knocked out instantly. 

40 HOURS IN

“And then they totally left their underwear in the guy’s car,” Ass chuckles. “And that’s why I’m not allowed at IHop anymore.”

Mal laughs. “You’re funny. These things really happen to you?”

They shrug. “I guess so. I think there's just something about me that attracts crazy people. What, you have a normal life?”

“Not quite, but not as exciting as yours,” she says. “I run a TD blog. A really popular blog. It’s nothing exciting, but crazy shit happens,”

“Crazy? Like what?”

Mal's eyes narrow at Courtney, who's fast asleep across the way. “Well…”

But when she turns back to Ass, their eyes are closed and their body is limp. Mal doesn't hold up for much longer after.

Frollo reads from his Bible, looking tired but not uttering a peep. 

“Ugh, how are you doing that?” Julia asks. 

“Doing what?”

“Not falling asleep reading that thing,”

Frollo looks up at her. “This “thing” is the greatest work of non-fiction ever made. It’s riveting. I'm in Leviticus right now,”

Julia yawns. “Don’t you dare,”

“Leviticus 18:22 says-”

Julia collapses. 

50 HOURS

“Listen, I really didn’t want for it to come to this, but you all give me no choice, really,” Chris sighs, pulling a book up. “I’m sure you’re all familiar with A History of Canada: The Pop-Up Book?”

Caesar groans. “God, no, please,”

“I wasn’t finished yet, compadre. This is the revised edition, with an additional thirteen chapters!”

The remaining players groan. Bonnie gives in immediately, slowly dropping. Caesar gasps. “Bonnie, no!” But it’s too late. 

That leaves only three- Frollo- still reading his Bible- Joner- fighting for his life- and Caesar- already worried about looking like a zombie tomorrow. 

“Chapter one-”

Joner lets out an earth-shattering groan, catching everyone's attention. He then sighs in defeat, curls up into a ball on the grass, and falls asleep, all his remaining effort gone. Frollo blinks, unamused, and Caesar swallows a lump in his throat. 

“Oh, come on!” Chris shouts. “This is taking forever!”

Caesar sighs loudly and stands, pacing around in circles to keep awake. A few of the fallen soldiers begin to wake up and watch in dead silence as time ticks down. Chris continues reading. Chef comes out with glasses of warm milk and cookies, which are refused. The sun sets again and the sky turns a deep shade of blue. Caesar’s steps are much slower now, but Frollo’s eyes keep drooping- it’s only a matter of time before one of them collapses. 

“This is terrible. Honestly,” Chris says, crossing his arms. He turns to Chef. “Should we make them fight each other?”

“At this point, I don’t think they’d stand a chance,” Chef shakes his head. “Something’s gotta happen eventually, right?”

Caesar’s eyes (now barely open, even as he paces) flit over towards Frollo, who’s been on the same page of his Bible for hours now. 

“You done with that yet?” he asks, barely able to speak. Frollo ignores him. “Come on, it’s not like we have anything better to do.”

Frollo looks up from his page and glares. “I don’t fraternize with the homosexual,” 

“Woah, buddy,” Caesar holds up his hands defensively. “This is a kid’s show.”

“Stop talking to me, filthy wretch,”

Caesar looks over his shoulder to Chris, who shrugs. Then, he gets an idea. He takes a seat on one of the logs around the campfire across from where Frollo is standing and forces a smile. “You know it isn’t real, right?”

Frollo shakes his head. 

“It’s just a bunch of stories loosely based on events that might have happened,” Caesar grins. “It’s less concrete than, um, RuPaul.”

“Silence, you infernal-”

“Watch it, we’re on TV,” he chuckles. “Me, personally, I was never a “God” guy. I spell it with a lowercase G and everything.”

“Enough!” Frollo stands, seething. “You will not take the Lord’s name in vain!”

“Oh, but I just did. Not that he’s going to do anything about-”

Before Caesar can finish his sentence, Frollo spins and launches the heavy book directly at his head. It hits his hair, bounces back, and smacks Frollo straight in the temple. Frollo blinks and then falls backwards. Chris stands in bewilderment, a huge, shocked grin on his face. “Is he out?”

Chef approaches and looks him over. “He’s out,”

“He’s out. He’s out! Finally!” Chris laughs. “Thank God for pompadours! Caesar wins! The Flying Fujoshis win!”

The Flying Fujoshis swarm Caesar, cheering (the ones who are awake, anyway) and the challenge officially ends as Caesar falls asleep and slumps over on Bonnie. 

---

“Anons, you put up a good fight today. Unfortunately, your remaining player was a homophobe. Sucks to suck,” Chris smiles. “You all know the drill- no marshmallow, and you’re out. Forever! Haha. Okay:”

“Staci, Scary, O, and Michael, you’re all safe. 

Next up is Kelly,

Austin,

Max, 

Julia, 

And Scruffy.”

Joner looks at Frollo nervously. Frollo blinks slowly, holding an ice pack to his head.

“Joner, you’re up for elimination for willingly giving up and possibly costing your team the win against Caesar. Frollo, you lost, big-time! But only one of you will be boarding the boat of losers tonight, and the other one is safe. And that person is….”

“Frollo. Joner, time to pack your bags,”

Joner sighs and looks to the team. “It’s been a blast, everyone,”

Michael frowns and stands, running over to Joner and giving him one last goodbye fist bump. “You’ll be missed,”

Joner smiles. “I’ll see you, man. You and McLovin better win that million for us!”

She frowns deeper. “Right. Me and McLovin,”

---

MICHAEL: "That was… rough. Even rougher considering that leaves me completely alone. And considering that Joner has been my best friend since elementary school… This has not been a good day for me,"

---

Chris watches curiously, and then waves Joner goodbye as he walks down the docks. “That was tough! Who’s gonna be hitting the road next week? And who will suffer blunt-force trauma? Find out on Total! Takes! Island!”