#now I gotta find a frame

[hello-archivist]

Super excited that my ink commission from the very talented @hellofromthehallowoods arrived today! 💜

[emile-hides]

I cannot believe no one’s gifed POV Ramattra tilting your chin up with his staff yet. Must I do everything around here.

[merp-blerp]

Pepper in the fact that I’m gaylor

[charrchan]

I got my cels framed!! :D

[sleepyyghostt]

im sure u guys are sick of my mold cleaning saga as it is definitely not the most appealing. topic. but i just found some on my printed mumbo jumbo tweet sjhdksfbnf

[lunaprincipessa]

ENTRY 254

My new Peter Steele stickers! And a pair of scissors for size comparison. Wanted to blog this as a reminder to people to read the damn descriptions before you shop online. These stickers were supposed to be for pillar candles about the same size in length as the scissors! lol 🤦🏻‍♀️

Up to 12 entries about Peter now and I wish for this entry that I had something more poetic or profound to say, but I just assumed they were a little more expensive than normal because of printing quality. 😬 More thoughts later but right now, a random link!

[todayisafridaynight]

ive been told my header is intimidating numerous times and as funny as that concept is to me i would like to be seen as more welcoming come the new year so gangstars feel free to throw header ideas my way or we’re going to have to let me get creative and lord knows how that goes

[bingobongobonko]

i bought citizen sleeper and as i expected i ruined my sleep schedule and i fully intend to continue my game as soon as i do my morning chores. god is so cruel. why do cool games with heartwrenching stories exist. youre ruining my life

[socksandbuttons]

now. Will i ever make this this a full aniamtic

[humanveil]

hey. quick question re your gifs: in the timeline do you have the original video file running at 100% speed, or a little slower? (i've been making mine @ 100% lately but it just feels too fast for me—when i'm watching then 20 times on a loop). anyway, fucking love your gifs. ✌️

hey!! i run it at 100 but i agree it’s too fast. i do the video frames to layers -> convert to smart object & edit in timeline style of gifs, but when i’m exporting i’ll always turn the timeline back into frames so i can edit the speed from 0.03 to 0.05 (or tbh i prefer 0.06) or whatever it is. if for whatever reason it won’t convert to frames i’ll literally just export from timeline & then reopen the gif in photoshop to fiddle with it. even then though i don’t think the playback is always accurate ?? idk i wait to see what the gifs look like in the tumblr editor and if i don’t like them i’ll go back and fuck around with it some more.

and thank you!!! 🤍🤍🤍🤍

[syluss-littlecrow]

better than the devil

<sylus x fem!reader>

where you find out if Sylus really has horns, and why he avoids letting you touch them

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, size kink (i mean bro is PACKING), breeding kink, sylus’s horns are ✨sensitive✨, dirty talk, sexual tension, missionary, a fuck ton of horn play, horny horns, cumming untouched, orgams galore!, so much cum♡

w/c: 2.9K

a/n: gotta thank the loml @bro-atz for helping me with this a little ehehehe >:) I hope this destroyed yall as much as this destroyed me to write it!!🥹

They say he takes the form of some dragon-like creature—with large black horns and wings. 

The first time you witnessed it with your own two eyes was when he choked out a serpent wanderer ten times his size before it got to you. You were semi-conscious at that point of time, the fatigue threatening to take over, but you had caught a glimpse of his silhouette—two thick appendages that curled proudly past his dirty silver hair, and large wings that hung off his back—before you blacked out. 

“Staring at me isn’t going to get any of your curiosities satisfied”, Sylus snaps you out of your thoughts. Your gaze flickers to his face, but Sylus has his eyes on his phone. 

Then his gaze shifts to you. 

“What are you thinking about, sweetie?”

Of course, you couldn’t just tell him outright that you wanted to see him magically grow his horns out of his head. You doubt even Luke and Kieran have seen it themselves. 

“Your horns.”

Sylus lowers his phone onto his lap, then he cocks an eyebrow, which turns to a furrow in seconds. 

“What gave you the idea that I grew horns?” He asks, his tone laced with mock and caution. His attention is fully on you now. 

Yeah, maybe that was not a good question to ask. Then again, being around someone as direct as Sylus had made you pick up his mannerisms quite a fair bit. 

“Nothing really”, you brush off, attempting to derail the conversation before something goes wrong. “I’m just curious.”

“Talk”, Sylus demands, albeit in a soft tone. “I’m listening.” 

His crimson eyes burn a hole into your head, and you now only realise the way he has you cornered on his couch, his large frame looming over yours. 

You sigh, realising he’s not about to let it go anytime soon. 

“A few weeks ago, during one of the battles we had, where I almost died-“

“Get to the point, sweetie”, Sylus cuts, seeing through your guise. 

You pout. “Right. Before I blacked out, I saw you appear right in front of me, with horns.”

Sylus raises his eyebrows, seemingly in amusement. “You sure you weren’t hallucinating?”

He earns a smack on his chest. You’re ready to let him disprove you further or whatever, but your body jolts when you feel Sylus snake his arms around your waist before he carries you effortlessly off the corner of the couch and onto his lap. 

You watch his eyes grow soft when he locks his gaze with yours. His expression is unreadable.

Your eyes widen in amazement when the thick pair of horns curl past his locks, the black a stark contrast with his white hair. He looks like he’s wearing bows in a funny, demonic type of way. Not that he has to know that. 

You continue to stare at his horns, visually taking in the rough yet smooth texture and patterns that run downwards as the horns grow thicker towards the base. 

“What are you really?” You wonder aloud, your fingers reaching out to feel the interesting texture of his horns, only for him to pull away quickly.

“It’s not the right time for you to know”, he replies curtly. You notice the glint of concern in his eyes, shrouded under the indifferent expression he wears. 

So you decide to leave it for now, at least. 

Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop you from annoying the ever-loving shit out of Sylus about his horns once you found out about it.

He would stare at you with his eyebrows furrowed, muttering that he should have never told you about his horns, only for you to bat your eyelashes at him, much to his annoyance. 

“At least let me touch them if you’re not gonna tell me more about them”, you would whine. With a frown, he would push your forehead with a finger, giving you his standard answer.

"No."

“Then could you at least tell me why you won’t let me touch your horns?”

He would rest his thumb and index finger on his chin, feigning a thinking stance before his expression drops deadpan and then the curt answer leaves his lips.

“No.”

You’re putting this right next to when you were fighting for your life to get that fucking brooch months ago. 

While the thought continues to eat into your curiosity, you mostly let Sylus off the hook after a while. For some reason, you’ve been noticing that Sylus has been walking around his mansion with his horns freely out. Maybe because he’s shown you his full horns once that’s why?

Or he’s just straight-up taunting you. 

You feign nonchalance, only stealing glances at the thick appendage that stood out against his pale locks from time to time, but never really bringing it up to him, for now at least.

You hear the raindrops patter against the large windows of Sylus's room one afternoon. At least the heavy clouds are hiding the sun on top of the dark curtains drawn, and it makes Sylus's rest a little more comfortable. 

He's sound asleep beside you on his bed, but you're seated up on your phone, the sound of the rain also slowly luring you to grow sleepy. You stretch a little, careful not to wake the male beside you. Sylus grunts softly, and you feel his hair tickle your thighs.

Through your peripherals, something catches your attention. The black on white is undoubtedly hard to miss.

Now that Sylus seems dead asleep, you're considering taking a chance to take a closer look at his horns, and maybe even touch them. 

Carefully, you shift your weight closer to Sylus, monitoring his expressions and movements. When the coast is clear, you lean closer, staring at his horns with much amazement. It's a lot different now that you're this up close to admire them. 

His horns aren't simply a simple shade of jet black–at different angles, you notice how the scales of his horns shimmer like an oil spill under the soft light. Close up, the base of his horns are thick, and as it extends, it curls, almost fully wrapping around his head. 

“So pretty”, you mutter to yourself. Your fingers are reached out as if by instinct, barely inches away from touching his pretty crown. 

You pause, weighing the risks of attempting to touch his horns. How fucked would you be if you actually did? 

Your eyes scan Sylus’s calm sleeping face. He doesn't seem to have even noticed his horns have grown out. 

“It’s just a little touch, he won't feel it anyways”, you convince yourself softly, your resolve firming as your curiosity begins to bubble over your rationale.

You let your fingers brush his horn, feeling the cold and scaly texture beneath your fingertips. Your eyes are sparkling in amazement even more, now that your curiosity has been satisfied. You press your fingertips onto the appendage, enjoying how nice and cool it feels to the touch.

Just then, you hear Sylus groan slightly. Your hand immediately retracts before you fully freeze, watching the way he presses his head against your leg, his eyebrows slightly scrunched before it returns back to relaxed. 

Close call. 

You obviously don’t learn your lesson, because your fingers are on his horns almost immediately once more. You grow more curious about the feeling of running your palm across his horns this round. 

So you do.

Your hand starts from the thick base, and you stroke it, following the horn's curl, enjoying the way the texture of the scales run smooth under your palm.

And then Sylus makes a sound beneath you. You squint in curiosity, wondering if you heard it right.

So you run your hand from his tip to the base this time. 

And this time, Sylus lets out another moan. You definitely did not hear wrong. 

Your cheeks are slowly flushing when you realise what you're doing to him. But for some reason, it makes you want to do it more.

So this is why he doesn't want you touching his horns? 

With a cheeky smile, you run your fingers along his horns in various ways and places, eliciting more pretty and erotic reactions from Sylus. 

You giggle to yourself, trying to ignore how he's making you aroused with all the noises he's making with every stroke you give his horns. 

You want to go for the next round, wondering how far you can take this.

Obviously not very far, because the next time you do, Sylus’s hand catches your wrist before you're about to touch his horns again.

He stares at you with half-lidded eyes, pink dusted on his cheeks and his breathing shallow.

“Are you having fun, kitten?” He asks with a frown.

Fuck.

You feign a smile, trying to wave your hand from his grip, of course, your attempts futile. 

Sylus’s other arm curls around your thighs, locking you from leaving the bed while Sylus lets his sleep leave his body from the rude interruption. 

“Denying me of satisfying my curiosity only makes it worse”, you shrug. Well, if only Sylus had just let you have a little touch…

The corner of Sylus’s lips pull up to a half smirk. 

“Right”, Sylus replies, a hint of annoyance and something else laced in his tone before he shifts above you in one swift motion, trapping you underneath him on his bed. 

“Then, I'm sure you don't have to be reminded that actions have consequences?”

You swallow hard. 

His hand that grabbed yours is placed on his chest, and he forces you to trail down his body, feeling his thick chest, then his abs under your touch, all the way down until he stops you right on his thick erection.

“You should take responsibility, don't you think?” Sylus asks with a raised eyebrow. 

You know it's pointless even attempt to escape when he’s devouring your lips like he hasn't eaten in days. It's so intoxicating. You would never admit your greed, but Sylus knows you well enough to feed you so good. You want to pull him so impossibly close.

In between breathless kisses, your warm hands trail from his biceps to his shoulders, to his neck, and right to his hair.

You test waters–letting your fingers rake through his hair, grazing the base of his horns. You get his green light when he doesn't swat you off, on the contrary, it makes Sylus grow more desperate in the kiss.

You confidently stroke his horn, from base to tip once more, and the moans that leave Sylus’s lips sound like fucking heaven. 

His crimson eyes finally meet yours, and he almost looks like he's in pain. 

“If you keep doing that–ngh–” Sylus trails off with another strained moan when the sensation of you stroking his horn buzzes right to his cock that he has shut his eyes to hold back. 

“This?” you tease, sliding your palm down to his base once more, rubbing the scaly appendage, watching him failing at trying to keep his composure. 

“Fuck”, he hisses, diving into your lips once more, eating you up. 

He pulls away briefly, pressing his lips just below your ear.

“You’re gonna be taking responsibility, kitten.”

He presses himself close onto you, so close that you feel his cock just pulsing against your pelvis, only separated by his black sweats. Sylus takes your chin in his fingers and steals your breath away once more, uncontrollably grunting with every stroke your hands play with his horns. You feel his cock twitch, then pulse before the feeling of warmth spreads across your skin, accompanied by a long, drawn out moan in your mouth.

It makes you dizzy with bliss, realising what you've done to him. 

Sylus pulls away once more, catching his breath, his eyes reflecting something more feral when you met his. 

But all you do is flash a cheeky smile at him, letting your fingers caress his cheek. 

His fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts and he yanks them off, almost growing feral for the second time when his eyes meet the sight of the way your pussy is glistening so much that a wet and thin string of arousal sticks itself in between your pussy and your soaked panties. 

Well, Sylus is holding the short end of the stick anyway, because when he tugs his sweats down, your heartbeat accelerates as your eyes land on his cock–thick, red and completely covered in white and thick cum, some staining his underwear, twitching slightly with dribbles of cum seeping past his cockhead when the fabric brushes past his balls. 

He looks so fucking delicious when he's messy like that. Shit.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself, staring at me like that”, he teases. He doesn't even look embarrassed.

“Maybe I should play with your horns more often”, you reply with a smile. Sylus narrows his eyes at you, his expression mixed with annoyance and affection. His fingers press against your soaking clit, enjoying the way the smile on your face gets wiped, replaced with a contorted expression of pleasure when he rubs it in slow circles. 

“I’m strongly against that idea, sweetie”, Sylus responds, leaning in to take in the expression of your mind slowly growing dumb and blank just from his slender fingers rubbing you out. “It’ll give you a little too much leverage over me.”

Through the hazy and building pleasure, you still manage to reply, “that's the whole point.”

Sylus only smiles at your reply, his fingers leaving your clit. You're about to protest, that is, until he grabs you by your hips, dragging you closer to him, then pressing your knees to your chest, before his wet cock slowly enters you from below. He watches your face contort in pleasure–your eyes rolling back and your eyebrows furrowed–while soaking in the fucking delicious feeling of your cunt warm and wrapped around his cock. 

“S-so good”, you whimper, his fullness knocking out any ounce of breath and sense out of you at a dangerous pace the his cock inches even deeper into you.

“Such a nice and warm pussy hole”, Sylus grits, pushing himself even deeper, his control slipping when he's buried himself all the way in. “Fuck, you're so good for me, kitten.”

You're clawing his pillows when Sylus starts fucking you, and you're looking at Sylus with such a glazed out expression–and you know it drives him fucking crazy. His palm rests on the bulge that his cock is pushing every time he enters you, and it makes your thighs shake. Your moans grow in pitch and tone on top of the sounds of lewd wet skin slapping. 

He lets you wrap your legs around his waist in return for letting him scatter love bites across your neck.

So you decide that it’s the perfect time to aim for his sensitive spots once more.

Your fingers tug against his scalp, then alternating to stroking his horns once more, throwing Sylus into another round of pleasured daze. 

You feel his cock fill you up even more, and it makes you greedy to how far you can push it.

“I really should make you regret this”, Sylus mutters, failing to suppress another groan when your fingers scratch against the base. 

His thrusts become more like ruts, his cockhead hitting your g-spot over and over as payback. Sylus sprouts a satisfied smirk as he watches you completely come undone on his cock. You throw your head back while stars flicker in and out of your vision. The pleasure is growing so fucking good that you're choking on your moans too. 

“Right there! Fuck, that feels so fucking good, Sylus”, you sob through wet lashes and heavy pants. 

Sylus is mesmerised by your pretty expressions and the pretty sounds you always make for him when he's breaking you apart. 

Maybe you finding out about his sensitive horns is his punishment for indulging in these sick pleasures. Nonetheless, he still wouldn't have any other way.

Your hands find his horns once more, and he falters for a split second. But he doesn't shake you off since he's much too focused on trying to force an orgasm out of you.

Your pussy squeezes him before it starts uncontrollably fluttering against his cock. Ah, his goal is slowly being fulfilled.

As your orgasm dangles above you, you react with periodical squeezes on his cock and his horns, which definitely draws a much larger reaction from Sylus. 

“So close”, you whine, your orgasm slowly filling the crevices of your brain, plunging you deep into pleasure. Your cunt clenches on his cock, and you unintentionally yank his horns.

Sylus fucking growls, pressing himself so fucking deep into you, his cum fucking spurting into you–so much that some is leaking out from your plugged pussy hole and onto the bed. 

He pulls his cock out momentarily, letting his cum ooze from his cockhead, his eyes darting to the loads seeping out of your hole, before he slides his cock into you once more. You gasp at the fullness, another squeeze to his horns, which only stimulates Sylus once more, and his cock fills you up with another warm and sticky load. 

He’s panting, but he musters his energy to meet your eyes. 

“Sweetie”, he calls out to you amidst his dick attempting to take over his brain. “If you don't get your hands off, your pussy won't be able to hold anymore, I guarantee.”

He's met with a fucked-out and sly grin from his partner. 

“And I thought you enjoyed challenges.”

Sylus scoffs at your comment, realising that he really has to teach his kitten a lesson to not touch things that aren't hers.

[gutsby]

Homemade

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.

Warnings: 18+. Sneaky sex tape fun with dbf!Joel ;-) Unprotected p-in-v. Age gap. Daddy kink. Facefucking. Joel being the world’s worst cameraman. Shower sex. Overstimulation via adjustable shower head. Dirty talk. Screaming ‘daddy’ too loud, and your father shows up.

Translations: In Chile, pico is slang for penis. Joel’s is big.

Part of the Waiting Game series

“If this ever ends up on PornHub, I’ll kill you, Miller.”

Joel knew you meant it, too.

The only reason you’d agreed to make this dumb little ‘home video’ at all was because you were headed back to college tomorrow and wouldn’t see him again until May. Doing long distance was tough, but doing long distance while simultaneously trying to keep a risqué, torrid, and totally-not-age-appropriate love affair with your father’s best friend under wraps was infinitely more difficult. This was the safest way to keep desire alive in the meantime.

Immortalized on a Sony CCD-TR70—because neither one of you trusted iCloud to keep a sex tape secret.

It had also been the only video camera you could find in the closet before your dad had plopped down on the couch just outside your room and announced he would be watching Oppenheimer for the third time. You’d had to scurry off fast before he could invite you to join him.

“I’ll be damned—this thing’s gotta be as old as I am,” Joel mused as he stood at the foot of the bed, camcorder pointed at your semi-nude form.

“I didn’t know they had cameras back in the Stone Age.”

Your smirk didn't flinch, even when Joel flipped you off.

You were lying on your side, head propped up on one hand while the other picked at a few loose strings from the comforter. The lacy, pastel pink bustier holding your tits in place was currently making breathing feel like a chore, and your skin was on fire from the warmth of the room, but you tried not to show it. Joel twisted a dial.

“Alright, now...flash ‘em for daddy,” he grinned as soon as the lens focused in where he wanted: your cleavage.

You rolled your eyes.

“A little closer, please,” you said, patting the space in front of you.

Joel didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still cradling the camera, he clambered over the bed so fast he nearly tripped and took a nosedive in the headboard. You had to cover your mouth to contain a shriek of laughter—and terror—as his frame barreled into yours.

“JOEL!”

Fortunately, your cameraman was quick to recollect himself, planting a knee on either side of your chest once he’d knocked you onto your back. Then, from above, he angled the grey-black hunk of metal just a foot away:

“Anything you’d like to say to the folks watching at home, ma’am?” Joel inquired, suddenly assuming all the poise and matter-of-fact elocution of a news reporter.

You stuck your tongue out at the camera and blew the wettest, fattest raspberry you could muster in response.

Joel hummed, zoomed in on your lips, and nodded.

“Fascinating,” he said, pretending to make sense of the fart noise you’d just made with your mouth, “Have you ever given thought to maybe...sucking cock on camera?”

The swiftness with which he was able to dodge your kick was remarkable. He swayed the camera just out of reach before you could shove it away and say, ‘Joel, quit being GROSS’ and he promptly replied, ‘Ain’t that the whole point of a sex tape, sweet pea? Bein’ a little bit gross?’ And you playfully tried to kick him again, only this time, he caught your foot and yanked you closer to him. He turned the camcorder back to your face and grinned.

“That’s my little pornstar,” he murmured with affection. Then, zooming in again, this time to find your panty line, “Riiiiight there.”

You knew giving Joel Miller recording privileges for an occasion as momentous as this was a bad idea. At the rate you were going now, you’d be seeing the sunrise through the window before you ever got a glimpse of his dick. You needed to take matters into your own hands.

Literally.

You crawled on all fours to get to Joel across the bed.

The man, kneeling with the camera pointed in your direction, looked up to cock a brow at you.

“Sweetheart, hey, can ya do that one more—”

“Hush,” you muttered, closing in on his crotch. 

Your head was lowered so you could undo the front of his jeans. Because of this, your back was arched, and your ass was pointed up just the slightest bit. For a second, Joel seemed torn between tilting the lens to your lower half or your face, which was inching ever closer to the bulge in his trousers. In time, he landed on the latter.

He swallowed. That sight never got old—and seeing it displayed on the camcorder’s semi-grainy screen only made it that much hotter. Joel shifted on his knees while you worked him out of his boxers, watching the nimble movements of your fingers as you wrestled the fabric.

“Wanna—” Glancing to the side of the bed, “—maybe—”

“Yup.”

Both of you liked it better on the floor: you on your knees in front of Joel, chin tilted up to see his reactions as you sucked him off. You loved to sink between his legs and then see and feel nothing but him, brain going blank the moment his cock filled your mouth. Joel slid a pillow under your knees before widening his stance some.

“Is it on?” Your hand was wrapped firmly around the base of his cock and your lips were hovering an inch from the tip. You resisted the urge to lick the precum off just yet.

“Darlin’, it’s been on ever since you stepped outta the bathroom in that— that—” Joel seemed to be searching for a word when the head of his cock was enveloped in a kiss. You dragged your tongue across the slit of him and collected the hot, salty beads with a muffled moan.

Then you pulled off.

“Teddy,” you said, reminding him of the name for that pretty little tulle and lace getup you currently had on.

“Teddy,” Joel echoed, his mind a million miles away from any lingerie jargon at the moment. He held the camera tighter as you took him back into your mouth and sank deeper on his cock. He struggled to keep it steady.

It was strange, watching Joel and the rounded glass of the lens as you did this dirty thing that was only meant to be shared between you and him. Knowing it would be recorded, saved for future viewing, displayed on some dimly lit screen in Joel’s bedroom maybe one, twice, or more likely than not, several dozen times over the next three months. You wondered how you might look from this new point of view; though, you weren’t so sure you needed to know what sight Joel was made privy to while you sucked and hollowed your cheeks around his cock.

As it turned out, that uncertainty wasn’t meant to last you very long, because Joel flipped the camera’s screen around two seconds later. Some sepia-tinted, pixelated rendition of your face, framed by the date and time and a bright red flashing dot beside the word ‘REC’ were the first to greet you. You flinched back just a little.

“Joel,” you said, almost bashful, “Flip it back.”

Joel just grinned. Then he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged you closer to him, thumb stroking over your scalp, “C’mon, darlin’, don’t ya wanna see how goddamn pretty ya look on your knees for me?”

You didn’t think you looked pretty at all. In fact, you reckoned your features looked something more like an alien utility funnel than a real, human face as you tilted your chin inward and seemed to be nothing but eyes and a hollowed-out expression, but you let Joel guide you back onto him all the same. You heard a low rumble of pleasure take shape in his chest as your lips slid over his shaft. Your gaze remained glued to the screen as you did.

Wet with saliva and a few faint traces of precum, you continued to bob your head up and down. Joel’s groans grew louder, and your drive to take him further and further surged as well. By the time his hand was tightening into a white-knuckled fist in your hair, you’d nearly taken him all the way to the back of your throat, and your nose was no more than an inch from the soft tufts of hair on his belly. Joel let out a shuttering breath.

“Fuck me,” he heaved. You might’ve smiled if your lips weren’t otherwise occupied. Then he clenched his hand even harder and murmured, “Can you— can I, please—”

Again, you didn’t need him to finish the rest of the question to know what he wanted. You moved your head back just slightly to nod, a low, ‘Mhmm’ reverberating down the length of his dick as you gave him permission. Joel swallowed and set the camera aside immediately.

He placed it on the nightstand, perfectly level with your head, to the side. Then he rotated the device just a bit, took one glance at the screen, and shortly returned to where you were watching him with wide, glossy eyes.

“Ready?” he asked. His right hand now joined the left at the back of your head, but not before thumbing a quick touch over your cheek to get a feel for your approval.

You hummed once more. You watched Joel’s hips move forward, hands secure around your scalp all the while, and you felt a gentle nudge at the back of your throat. Then another. You couldn’t help the impulse to gag, but thankfully, it was short-lived. Joel peered down at you, eyes searching yours for any plea to stop or slow down, but he found nothing. He sheathed himself deeper until your lips were brushing the base of his dick. He groaned.

“That’s a good…fuckin’ girl,” he managed, voice strained, “Takin’ my cock so deep.”

He shifted his hips to move an inch or two out, then slid his cock forward again, bumping that spot at the top of your throat. This time, you were better adjusted to take him and felt your muscles expand and contract around him without activating your gag reflex. Your eyes stayed trained on his face while he dragged his cock back again.

“My pretty girl and her—” Joel stabbed back into you, somehow tender in the way he did it, “—pretty fuckin’ mouth…Sweet thing likes gettin’ facefucked, does she?”

With the increased pace of his thrusts and the grip he had on the sides of your head, you couldn’t quite answer, but Joel could tell from the glint in your eye that you loved when he manhandled and fucked your throat like this. Watched the light sear gently behind those irises as you swallowed every inch of his cock, back and forth, and let your brain break down to little more than a happy, mindless mush. Joel was always keen to oblige you on that front—aroused to no end at the sight of all your thoughts being fucked straight out of your head—and within the next few thrusts, his gut was giving a familiar clench. He pulled halfway out of your mouth, paused, felt the pinch again, then withdrew from your lips fully.

“Get on the bed.”

You straightened back up and made it over to the mattress, quickly. Before you could assume the position you’d been hoping to take on all fours, you felt yourself flipped on your back. Joel yanked your hips to the edge of the bed and kneeled down between your legs. Hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and had them shuffled down your thighs and past your ankles in no time at all. Then, when he lowered his lips to your wet, aching core, you pressed a touch to the crown of his head.

“Joel, wait,” you said. All of a sudden your chest felt tight.

In spite of the fact that your airways were open and completely free from any obstruction—namely, Joel’s big ol’ pico—you still found it difficult to inhale. Some murky, amorphous sense of anxiety weighed over your chest.

When your hand didn’t move from his head and instead pushed him further, Joel furrowed his brows, perplexed.

“What’s’a matter, darlin’?”

You shook your head, more to yourself than to him.

“I haven’t…just— haven’t washed down there today…o-or shaved,” you stammered, “Don’t want you to taste it.”

That was largely a lie. You’d bathed, shaved, and prepared for this just fine, but really were more concerned about the novel optics that loomed overhead. Being filmed in such a singularly vulnerable state without knowing how to act. You were fine when the attention was focused on Joel and his pleasure, but something about having your every whimper and moan laid bare before you on film felt daunting. Unnerving, in a way.

Joel frowned while rubbing your thigh. His brow pinched inward again, as if he were considering something.

Then he moved across your body, and your muscles eased with relief at the thought that he’d just let it go and get to fucking you exactly how you wanted. You reached for him, ready to wrap your legs around his waist, when a yelp clawed out of your throat. You found that you didn’t get to touch his chest, or his cheeks, or his big, broad, beefy shoulders, as you were promptly thrown over the latter of the three body parts and lifted when Joel stood up from the bed. He started carrying you across the room, heedless of the startled, ‘What the FUCK, Miller?’ you’d cried the second he took one step.

Hardwood floors transformed to tile before your eyes, and shortly, you realized you were being brought into your bathroom.

You heard the squeak of some metal knob being turned, then a brief sputter, then a spray of water raining down on your shower floor. You were still being held hostage over Joel’s shoulder, try as you might to bite at his lower back or smack his ass in an attempt to break loose.

He set you down a second later, seemingly unfazed.

“Get in.” He nodded toward the shower.

Before you had a chance to respond, he left. You stood back in disbelief—refusing to go into the shower and let Joel have his win—but just as you opened your mouth to call out and tell him as much, his form slipped back in through the door. Naked, now, and wielding that stupid, goddamned camcorder with a devious glint in his eye.

“Will you—” You held out a defensive hand in front of you, cheeks already heating, “—stop with that?!”

Secretly, the corners of your lips were fighting a smile as Joel drew closer with the camera held up to your face.

“There she is, folks,” he announced, as though speaking to a crowd, or else reading off of a script from the world’s most cheesy porno, “My dirty, dirty girl says she needs a shower—don’t ya, sweet pea?”

It sounded so ridiculous and dumb that neither one of you could keep from laughing. Even as you lifted your middle finger in response, Joel grinned and smacked your ass. Steadied the camera out in front, nudged you closer to the shower, and watched you somewhat begrudgingly obey his orders. Once you’d stripped what little remained on your body, you stepped into the tub.

Add to ‘ridiculous and dumb’ just wildly unsexy as well—who the hell needed a soapy interlude to a sex tape?

Joel Miller, apparently. He constricted his grip on the camera and followed you in, tongue already skimming the backs of his teeth in anticipation. You turned away to step under the shower’s stream, and he wasted no time getting a shot of your derrière. You leaned forward and sighed.

The water worked wonders to get your muscles to loosen some, but still, you were nervous. You could clean up now, stall a little longer, maybe even offer to give Joel head again—but what if he really wanted to eat you out on camera? You couldn’t put off the conversation forever.

Or another minute, it seemed.

You let out a shriek when you felt Joel’s fingers sneak up between your thighs. You hardly knew what he was doing, just folding limply when he spun you around to press your back against the shower wall. Your eyes widened to see him descending your body once more.

“I lied,” Joel said, smirk painted clear across his features, “You’re not dirty—I just wanted to eat your pussy in the shower ‘s’all.”

Chivalry was evidently alive and well in Austin, Texas.

No truer words could have been spoken, and yet, you felt wildly uncomfortable the second Joel’s head dipped between your legs and that big, dumb, handsome face started licking stripes up your sensitive core. You cast a glance to the side and saw the camcorder perched on the sink—just through the open slit in the shower curtain, you could see it pointed directly at you.

You shivered and started to push Joel away.

“Can we maybe just—”

“Sweetie?!”

Joel’s lips tore out of your cunt quicker than a sneeze through a screen door. His eyes were wide.

“Y-Yeah, dad?” you squeaked, tone almost fearful.

“Everything okay in here? I heard ya scream,” your dad returned shortly.

You could only imagine the expression of confusion and distress painting his every lineament in that moment. Probably just barely sticking his head through the crack in the door and blinking anxiously through the steam.

Your dad was caring like that.

He just never knew the right times to show up.

No, there were very few times where you would’ve liked to see him less—apart from that one time you’d sucked Joel’s dick under the table at your dad’s birthday dinner. Your heart was thudding a wild, erratic beat in your chest, and you could only imagine how Joel was feeling. Probably seeing visions of a Size 11 boot being shoved up his ass if his friend happened to slide the shower curtain to the side and see him nose-deep in his daughter’s box.

That would be bad. So very, very bad and probably ten times worse than when Tommy had caught you blowing his brother at the aforementioned birthday party. You just couldn’t seem to catch a break these days.

You sucked in a breath and answered anyway.

“I thought I saw a spider.”

“Really?” You could already sense the embittered tinge to your dad’s voice, harking back to the war he’d once declared on all wolf spiders in the home, “Want me to kill it?”

The next thing you heard was two boots thud on the bathroom floor outside the shower, and you could’ve sworn you saw Joel’s whole soul leap from his body. He shot a frantic look around him, spotted a window above, and seemed to wonder for half a second if he might be able to shimmy his 188-pound frame through a space that probably wasn’t big enough to fit a fat raccoon. He slumped his weight against the shower wall and winced.

“No! I— It wasn’t even a spider. Just a…roach.”

Shortly, Joel’s eyes widened even more and met yours, as if to ask, ‘Why the FUCK would you say that?’

“A roach?!” your dad cried simultaneously.

Apparently, you’d forgotten that any derivative of the word ‘cockroach’ was like a sleeper agent activation phrase for middle-aged fathers who wanted to keep their homes free of all household pests. The look on Joel’s haggard, world-weary face communicated as much to you, and for a second, you remembered that he, too, was built the same way as any other semi-old dude you knew.

Just bigger and beefier and…harder below the belt than you would’ve expected most men around his age to be.

You quickly chided yourself for ogling Joel’s dick at a time like this and replied to your father, shrill, “No!”

Then, slightly more composed, “No, no— I already took it out with some hairspray and told it to fuck off to hell.”

An attempt at humor was the last leg you had to stand on. Fortunately, it worked.

Outside the shower, your dad chuckled, and his footsteps started to shuffle off toward the door.

“Ah. Atta girl,” he beamed, ever the advocate for brutal cockroach killings, “If you see another, just holler, okay?”

“Okay.”

You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, and you almost fell to the floor. Joel probably would’ve been facedown just as well—fear seeping out of his body along with every last ounce of willpower to stand—had he not made a dive for you as soon as your dad had left.

The force of his push sent you straight into the wall, legs forced to wrap around his waist as he buried his face in your neck.

“Thank fuck,” he breathed.

“You’re welcome,” you murmured, swiping the water out of your eyes with a grimace.

Then, just as you were about to request that Joel lower you back down to the floor and out of the shower’s spray, you felt a nudge between your legs. Luckily not a tongue this time—just Joel, or the tip of his leaking cock. The man below you grinned, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a wash of relief. Could it be?

“I’ll still eat you out if y’want,” he started, though speaking with a little less conviction this time around, “But after all that I, uh—kinda jus’ wanna fuck ya stupid.”

Well thank fuck for fake spiders and cockroaches, too; you’d just averted a dreaded tonguefuck, thanks to that detour.

You’d worry about your pornstar moans and on-camera charisma another time—now you could just sit back and let Joel do all the work while he took you against the wall.

Really, there was no need to concern yourself with anything at all from that point forward. Once you’d given Joel the green light, he was sinking you onto his cock with a grunt and making sure you felt nothing but him. His hands found your hips and held you firmly in place as he rutted into you from below, your own fingers latching onto his shoulders for some much-needed support. Both of you knew that you needed to be extra quiet now—seeing how sound seemed to carry in that tight, tiled space—so Joel snagged your lips in his for a kiss.

He was practically panting in your mouth by the time you started meeting his thrusts. His fingertips slid some and must’ve seared ten perfect crescents into the flesh of your ass as he fucked you into the wall.

“Look so pretty like this,” he whispered in between kisses and short, shallow breaths. His cock parted your insides with an excruciating welt of pleasure, and he hardly even seemed to realize it, “Look so damn pretty takin’ cock.”

Then, lips kicking up in a smile when it seemed he’d remembered something, he added, “Can’t wait to play this tape back home and watch us fuck all over again.”

Again. Again. And again. Shit, you could just see it now.

Your eyes traversed the compact shower space once more to find the video camera—still perched, still live, still perfectly implacable and silent atop the sink as it recorded your every grunt, groan, and shuddering moan. You were nearly as curious to know what Joel’s bare ass looked like rutting into you like this as you were to hear yourself getting railed against the shower wall. Maybe you’d beat this fear of secondhand embarrassment after all.

Maybe.

Joel’s teeth snagged your bottom lip and bit it, lightly.

“Every chance I get, you can bet I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout this…sweet pussy while you’re away,” he said, voice low and occasionally punctured by a groan, “Say one more thing f’me and I’ll…cum every time I watch this part.”

The kinks at the corners of his lips were endearing. You would’ve liked to supply them with just about anything they could’ve wanted, so when they leaned into your ear and murmured just what it was they needed to hear, you only hesitated a second.

Or maybe two or three, because, well…it was risky.

Moaning ‘daddy’ out loud at a time like this? It might get Joel off quick, but it might send your real dad running even faster. You weren’t crazy about the thought of anything that might draw the man’s attention again.

Joel seemed a little less risk-averse than you, notwithstanding the window-leaping fear he’d felt when your dad had rushed in before. Leave it to a criminally horny man to have the memory of a goldfish, though.

At present, Joel was blinking and gawking a bit like one, too, waiting for you to enunciate that one magic word.

You couldn’t deny he made a damn cute desperate sex fiend when he wanted to be. And you needed to cum.

You figured you could cut a deal with him just this once.

“Alright,” you mumbled against the top of his stubbled lip, “Make me cum and I’ll say anything you want, Miller.”

You weren’t sure if it was a chuckle or a strangled moan that jumped up in his throat when Joel squeezed your sides tighter. All you knew was that he was lowering you to the floor in the next instant, spinning you around, and walking you forward, swiftly and with purpose, toward the opposite end of the shower. Right where the crack in the curtain made you most visible to the camcorder.

Joel’s hand snaked around your front and gently eased between your legs. Then, pressing his chest to your back and nudging you to bend just slightly at the waist, he tipped your bodies closer to the camera’s line of vision and stilled. From the LED screen, you could see the ghost of a smile crossing his lips as he shifted his head beside your own. Next, they were kissing across your shoulder, your neck, that sensitive spot behind your ear, and finally the shell of it, brown eyes trained on the camera lens as he murmured to you, “Stay real still.”

You didn’t know if you could. But you tried. And you damn near cried when his fingers started working circles over your clit. Your body was raised on tip-toes, and your hand was bracing the wall as Joel fucked you from behind and made a mess of your wet, writhing body. In no more than three or four strokes, your fears of looking or sounding stupid on camera trickled away with all the rest of the silent, sizzling liquids circling the drain below. Your cheek pressed against Joel’s rougher one, and with the push of each new thrust, you came more unraveled.

When Joel’s hand closed over the front of your throat, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t move—couldn’t move, as the man was holding you still in such a taut, rigid grip.

“What do we say when we get fucked this nice, baby?” Joel whispered in your ear, words almost entirely masked by the sounds from the shower. You still heard it, though.

“T-Thank you,” you stuttered, cockdrunk and faint.

“Thank you, what?”

Your eyes were fluttering closed, but you could feel the smug expression just over your shoulder. You clenched around him and felt him snap his hips ahead even harder.

“Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered.

“Say it again.”

“Thank you, daddy!” you whined, still scared to be too loud.

Joel wasn’t scared. His hand ascended the column of your neck to pinch your chin between his fingers, jerking your head to the right.

To the crack in the curtain. To the camera.

You could’ve cried with how fast he was fucking you now. You opened your eyes and cast a pathetic look to the recorder. Joel made sure you maintained that gaze, too.

“Who’s makin’ ya feel this good?” he seethed, shaking your whole frame with the breakneck pace of his hips.

“You, daddy.”

“Who’s fuckin’ this sweet cunt like no one ever has?”

“You, daddy.”

Joel seemed sated and somehow not fully satisfied at all. Like he was pleased to see you falling apart for him like this, but needed to hear more. Feel more.

He withdrew from you, and you nearly collapsed with the absence of his arms holding you straight.

You pressed a shaky palm to the wall and almost moaned for him to get his ass back over here, you weren’t done, when Joel returned in a second. To your relief, his muscly arms found their way around your front once more, and his clock plunged back inside you, too—only this time, you sensed you were missing something else.

Water.

It wasn’t on your back anymore.

It was fanning between your legs.

Blasting the full force of its stream toward your most sensitive parts as Joel held the shower head up between your thighs. You would’ve jumped back and screamed were it not for his hand clamping tight over your mouth before you could, his lips grazing over your ear again.

“Try it one more time.”

You released a hoarse, muffled squeal into his palm when he lifted the stainless steel to your clit and started rolling his hips. The strokes themselves were relatively gentle, but paired with the ruthless spate of the water, your eyes were nearly rolling to the back of your head at the pulse.

You couldn’t breathe, much less speak. Joel hummed almost apologetically into your hair but didn’t seem sorry at all as he lowered his hand back down to your throat and squeezed. He continued rocking his hips into yours.

“You’ve said it dozens of times before—what’s’a matter?”

Joel Miller knew what the fuck was the matter. He just liked to see you desperate, fucked-out, and teetering on the brink of going feral before he let you reach your peak.

“D-D-D—”

Damn, you sounded stupid.

“D-D-Do you wanna cum? Is that it?” Joel said, mocking your struggle to articulate words as he fucked you.

In spite of your normal no-bullshit attitude toward him, you weren’t in quite the right frame of mind to be talking back to him. You just nodded and moaned, movements constricted by the grip of his fingers on your neck.

“Use those big girl words for me, honey. I know ya can.”

Again, you parted your lips and started to speak, but the oscillation of the water, the brush of his cock, the patently deprecating lilt in Joel’s string of praises, made it nearly impossible. You ended up sputtering again,

“D-D-ah-fuuuckfuckfuck.”

“That ain’t the word I’m looking for.”

But, just as you ventured to say it once more, he cut in,

“Here. Lemme help ya find it.”

Before you could blink, Joel was pistoning his hips against your ass like he had before, only this time, he held the shower head stationary between your legs as you seized and nearly fell to the floor with the force of all the pleasure coursing through you. Your body seemed to act of its own accord, head dropping to Joel’s shoulder and stomach giving an alarmingly fitful pinch as an orgasm tore through you. You couldn’t control how it came or where it went—or how your tongue jumped up and cried,

“Daddy!”

Joel nodded, fucking you through each violent spasm with all the composure and aplomb of a seasoned pro. While your eyes cycled back in the throes of delirium, he held firm and didn’t slow his hips—or the shower head.

You probably could’ve torn a hole through a cinder block if you’d happened to have one between your teeth just then. That was how fervid and merciless the aftershocks of your climax were pulsing through you, exacerbated to the nth degree by the continuity of Joel’s movements. You managed to grab the forearm that was holding the metal nozzle and plead a wild, slightly stifled, “JOEL!”

In truth, you didn’t really want him to stop. It felt too good. You could tell that Joel sensed this, too, because in the instant after that, his lips were sponging kisses to your shoulder, cock working steadily between your walls.

“One more, sweet pea.”

“Joel—”

“And say it louder this time.”

Were you in your right mind, you probably would’ve chided him for being so reckless and stupid about it all. How the fuck could he expect you to scream out loud when your dad was lounging right outside of your room? Did he really think the drone of Cillian Murphy’s smooth, American-ized tone would mask your unbridled moans? Honestly, you couldn’t be sure—and more importantly, you couldn’t be stopped to consider for much longer. With one last trembling vibration from the shower head and a thrust from Joel, you were cumming all over again.

Squeezing his arm, sinking into his sturdy frame, clenching over his cock in what felt like a hundred convulsions, and casting caution aside, you screamed:

“DADDY!”

You might’ve blacked out for a second or two.

Even a minute, as it was, because the next intelligible thing that reached your ears was the thunder of footfalls. And the thrum of Joel’s own hammering heart as he yanked you into his chest and stilled frozen inside you.

The door swung open on its hinges so hard it hit the wall.

“What is it, sweetie?!” your dad yelped.

“I—”

“Are you hurt?”

Just fucked raw by your best friend and shaking, Pops.

You sucked in a breath when Joel nudged your head with his nose and slowly pulled the shower curtain closed to move you out of view of the camera. But it was still there.

Your dad was still there.

The shower walls seemed to be closing in on you, but somehow, you managed, “No, dad, I’m fine! Just…coulda sworn I saw another spider in here, but it was nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

Your dad sounded unconvinced, pacing closer. You could’ve screamed, but Joel was likely holding you too tight to make any such sounds possible in that moment. The two of you recoiled, still stuck chest-to-back, away from the edge of the plastic shower liner when a boot thudded just outside the crack between curtain and wall.

You swallowed. Joel squeezed. Neither of you breathed.

“If it’s another roach, I gotta call the extermin—”

“No! No, it wasn’t a roach. I’m just seein’ things, I think.”

That didn’t seem to make your father feel any better, because he didn’t retreat like he had before. A tense moment fell over the compact, fog-infested room, like the man was chewing away at some thought in his head.

Then he sighed.

“Alright.”

Blissful footsteps away from the shower. You smiled.

Unfortunately, the grin was destined to be short-lived, because in the next instant, you heard boots screech to a halt on the tile. Pivoted, then paused where they stood.

Another gut-wrenching dozen seconds passed, and for one short, chilling moment, you could’ve sworn you felt your father’s gaze sear through the curtain and see you.

But he didn’t see you. Or Joel. Or anyone.

Instead, his gaze was fixed someplace else.

Suddenly, his voice rose above all the awful noises of clamor and panic in your brain, and broke out, loudly,

“What’s my camera doin’ in here?”

[flowersforabby]

first time with loser!gf!ellie

she drags the tips of her fingers gently down your side, almost as if she's afraid to shatter you.

"you can tell me to stop," ellie says, voice so delicate that it teeters on becoming one with the low hum of the room.

"i don't know why you think i want to," you sigh, a small smile tugging on your lips as you shift to hold yourself up on your elbows.

her hand finds its way to one of your knees, both of which are propped up on the bed, rubbing soothing circles whilst her other hand lays awkwardly in her lap, fidgeting with the hem of her pants. the upper half of her body is bare, yet you keep your gaze focused on her face.

she looks pretty, in this light. the loose strands of her hair framing her freckled face. the way her eyes are illuminated by the light of your nightstand. the permanent slight pout to her lips. ellie looks different from the girl you'd fallen for, all those years ago, but this ellie- she's yours.

"i don't want you to feel like you're being rushed into this, or shit,"

"i'm ready if you are," you say.

she lets out a weak attempt of a laugh. "now you're just making me even more nervous,"

"i wouldn't want my first time to be with anyone but you,"

for a moment, the girl falls silent in thought.

you reach out for her hand, mirroring the motion she's doing on your knee. her eyes follow as you do so, yet she stays quiet for just a moment longer.

"i want to do it, but only if you do," you say. "i don't mind waiting, i don't mind if you want to do it right now, tomorrow, or whenever. i really don't care, ellie, i just care that i'm doing it with you,"

"yeah," ellie says, sucking in a deep breath. "let's do it,"

"okay,"

"but you gotta tell me if-"

"shut up, ellie."

"i don't want to hurt you,"

"you won't. i'll tell you if you do, but you won't. i know you,"

"yeah, kay,"

ellie slips her hand up your unclothed thigh, your shorts having been discarded a while ago, leaving you in only your undergarments. her skin is warm against you and she's never felt so real, so there. she leans down to peck your lips but before she gets the chance to fully pull away, you wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her in, her chest pressed against yours. a surprised huff escapes her mouth as she holds herself up with one arm. she's careful not to pull away from you as she makes herself comfortable, one knee between your legs and the other by your side. you always find yourself wanting more of her and you're pretty sure that soon enough, ellie won't have any more of herself to give.

you're caught off guard when you feel her knee pressed right against where you're most sensitive, letting out a choked breath as you stop sucking on her tongue. ellie pulls away, a small grin on her face, but it does barely anything to mask the nerves.

"shit babe," you say. "should i be worried you know 'bout that?"

her grin grows almost shy. "i'm not all that clueless,"

"oh?"

her hand finds itself on your jaw, guiding your lips back towards hers. she bites on your bottom lip slightly- your thing, which she stole, but you can't really complain because at least, she's doing it to you. your hands slowly travel up her sides, giving her the chance to push them away at any moment; she doesn't. ellie muffles a whine by pressing her lips harder onto yours, when you cup your hands around both her breasts, gently fondling with her pebbled nipples. she's eager with her kisses, chasing after you whenever you pull away to catch a breath. it's a side of her you don't see often, and it's somehow hard to believe that your sweet, loving girlfriend could be so… hungry.

"fuck," you hiss, biting back a moan.

this ellie, she's foreign to you. she's soft and slippery and sticky, slotted right against you. one of her legs is trapped beneath yours, the other, above. a pink flush is evident on her cheeks and the glassy look in her eyes, you've never seen her quite so desperate. her noises are dizzying- a varied array of curses, gasps, whines and moans that only fuels you further. you've got your hands pressed right against her chest, feeding into her laboured breathing whenever your fingers brush her sensitive nipples.

"wanna hear you," you mutter, leaning down to pepper a line of kisses down the side of  her jaw. 

ellie furrows her brows, her finger digging further into her hips as she tries to grind harder up into you, clits bumping together and making her whine. "fuck, babe,"

her desperation spurs you on, alongside the want to please her, to make her feel good. you ignore the soreness of your thighs, trying to keep on going despite the movement of your hips already starting to falter. ellie's wetness coats both your thighs and her own, even slicking down to the bedsheet with an evidently darker patch beneath her. the room feels hot and heavy, your moans echoing throughout your bedroom.

"think i'm gonna cum," ellie gasps. "shit,"

it's quite a sight quitewordly, when she does. she squeezes her eyes shut, tears pooling in the creases and she throws her head back into her pillows. the entirety of her body tenses up and it's a moment before she starts shaking, breathy gasps escaping past her lips as she digs her fingers deeper into your thighs.

"please, please," she begs, looking up at you through her eyelashes.

when your clits slide over each other once again, ellie abandons one of your thighs to clasp her hand tightly around her mouth, letting out a shaky whine.

eventually, you fall victim to her overstimulation, being pushed away right when you're about to cum. she's frantic with her apologies, repeatedly trying to explain that it's really too much for her and she can't bear to feel you brush up against her once more. you shut her up with a series of messy kisses, trying to ignore the throbbing of your core as you try to convince that really, it's fine. she doesn't think it is, no matter how hard you try to convince her, and ellie settles on slipping her hand right in between the two of you, rubbing tight circles on your clit and bringing you to what you had been craving for so long.

not proofread!!

a/n: this was supposed to have been based on this but i gave up

[manebioniclegali]

Heh. Tall'nt.

I do not know what compelled you to send this in the middle of the night avdjdbsjAVDJDBDJ thanks >:| rood rood rood smh

[bpmiranda]

Uncle Logan |l.howlett| nsfw

A/N: a little suggestive content, uncle!logan x faux!niece reader, age gap, mean!logan, underage drinking, punishment, 18+ f!reader, implied consent, cheating(?)

Your father has come to terms with the fact that letting you come and go as you please is less of a hassle for him than trying to control you. Your mother worries about the boys you ride around with and the girls who help you sneak out when she’s tried to lay down the law. At their wit’s end, they find themselves left with one option; send you into the city to live with your Uncle Logan.

“You want me to live with Uncle Logan for the summer?” You ask in disbelief, arms folded and legs crossed as you sit in your bedroom listening to your parents tell you that they’ve basically had too much of you and are sending you away. You knew you weren’t the perfect daughter, but to just send you off like this seemed a bit excessive to you.

While you love Uncle Logan, you’re devastated that you won’t be able to see your friends or your boyfriend on a daily basis. There were plans you had made together to celebrate finally being out of high school. They were being total drags. “Your father and I just feel you don’t have very good influences and a change of scenery might do you some good.” Your mom explains, wringing her hands nervously. “It’ll just be until Uncle Logan thinks your behavior is adjusted.”

“Mom, this is bullshit, I have already graduated. I did my time, right? I finished high school and now I get to have some fun. It’s not fair!” You argue and your dad shakes his head. “Dad!” You groan.

“No, young lady, you need to be looking into college. You’ve gotta start taking your future seriously. Uncle Logan is a good man and a trusted friend of mine, he’s going to whip you into shape.”

That was the end of that discussion and the next week you were sent to the city. “You’re leaving today?” Your boyfriend asked incredulously over the phone as you angrily toss personal items into your bags. “That’s a bummer.”

“Tell me about it.” You mutter, picking up the small framed picture of you and him and carefully setting it in your bag. “Will you come visit me?” You ask, knowing the answer already, but you love how wrapped around your finger you’ve got him.

“Of course I will, baby.” He says and you smile to yourself. “I’ll come sneak you out like usual. No biggie.”

“It might be a little fun with being in the city and all.” You muse as you sit on your bed and wait for the cab your parents arranged for you to arrive. They didnt even think this was something worth taking off work for so they could drive you themselves. “They’ve got the best bars in the city.”

“Hell yeah, we’ll make the best of it, sweet pea.” He reassures you and you sigh contently.

When your taxi cab arrived to take you into the city, you hung up with your boyfriend and begrudgingly got into the yellow vehicle. Overall, it wasn’t a completely terrible situation because it was clear you and your parents could use some distance. Uncle Logan lived in a shitty apartment building that you remembered pretty well and you recall enjoying the visits to the city in the past. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad staying with him. He wasn’t actually your uncle anyway, so maybe he wouldn’t be so strict with you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Logan greets you in his building’s lobby and you give him a big hug. You’re always taken by how very tall and muscular he is each time you see him. Those strong arms wrapping around you protectively, his kind green eyes, that handsome smile - he gives you butterflies. “You sprouted like a weed, huh?” He comments as he set you back down on your feet. “It’s only been a year.” You grin as he takes your bags and leads you upstairs to his apartment.

“Did my parents tell you why I’m here?” You ask as he lets you in and you turn to look at him curiously. Logan gives you a sympathetic look and you chuckle in disbelief. “Of course they did,” You mutter. “So I bet you’ll be keeping a close eye on me.”

Uncle Logan chuckled as he shook his head, walking down the narrow hallway to the bedroom. “No, kiddo, I won’t be.” He turns to look at you, his stare was suddenly hard and domineering, it made you nervous. “Because you’re not going to want to cause me any problems, right?” You find yourself nodding, crossing your arms over your middle. “That’s a peach, c’mon, let’s get your room set up.”

Kind and handsome as he could be, you knew Uncle Logan was different. Hardened by a vastly long past, but you weren’t going to be deterred by his attempts at keeping you locked up. You were good at getting your way.

You’d soon find out, however, that Logan was better at dealing out punishments than preventing the need for them.

After a small dinner, Logan set you up with a small television in your bedroom that only took CDs and a few stacks of your childhood favorites which you had grown out of by now, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him. You thanked him and waited for him to leave your bedroom to bring your phone out and call your friends about tonight.

“We’ll come break you out around midnight.” Your friend says over the phone as you sit on your new bed and look out the window at the street below. With nightfall now covering most of the view of the street, the lights make the city look so pretty and everything down there is too dark to make out from the apartment windows, the perfect amount of cover for sneaking out.

“There’s an alleyway across the street from the apartment building,” You tell her. “I’ll be waiting there.”

“Sounds good, see you soon!”

Excitedly, you look through your suitcase for an outfit and settle on a black dress with a deep V neckline that stops right above your navel. The skirt falls at the middle of your thigh where it hugs the shape of you ass and the sleeves are long and a mesh material that cuff at your wrists. As you’re killing time, you fix your hair and make sure it falls exactly where you want it to before you decide to add a little makeup.

- brr brr brr - your phone vibrates and you check the message to see that it says your friends are on the way and your boyfriend is with them. A smile tugs at your lips and you do another mirror check before quietly leaving your bedroom.

You are sure Uncle Logan has gone to sleep by now and you’re quick to hurry out of the apartment, only putting your heels on once you are in the lobby. You smile to yourself as you cross the street and look behind you at the apartment building smugly. “Easy breezy.” You murmur as you step into the alley and wait for your friends to call. It was quite cold and you wished you had brought a coat when you suddenly hear the flick of a lighter. Chills run through your body as you turn around and spot the flame of the zippo lighter illuminating your uncle’s face as he’s lighting his cigar. Fuck, you think to yourself as he takes the few steps that close the space between the two of you.

“Going somewhere?” He asks with a smirk.

“No,” You say straightforward. “I-I’m just-”

“Save it.” Logan says before he drags you back the apartment as you’re protesting and pleading, your heels clicking loudly on the concrete staircase.

“Uncle Logan, this is totally unfair!” You whine as he pulls you back into the apartment and slams the door shut angrily behind him. “Come on, I won’t even be gone two hours!”

Logan wordlessly forces you to sit on the couch in the living room and then he saunters to the kitchen where he grabs a half-full whiskey bottle from the cabinet. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion because you swore he was mad, but he’s going to let you have a drink now? Logan shoves the bottle into your lap and then sits on the couch recliner where he points a finger at you.

“Listen to me, very clearly,” He begins and you feel the blood drain from your body from the fear of his aggressive tone. “I’m only going to say this one time, kid. I don’t give a shit what you think is fair. Do you know why?” You say nothing and he continues. “Because you’re a fucking kid. You don’t get to decide what’s fair as long as you’re living off your father’s money. Got it?” Tears prickle at your eyes, but you blink them away. “Now finish that bottle.”

Your eyes widen and you look down at the liquor bottle, completely taken by surprise. This is far too much for you to drink. “I-I’m-I can’t.” You stammer looking over at him as he’s relighting his cigar.

His eyes were serious and cold as the ember at the end of his cigar pulsed with his toking. “Isn’t that what you were going to do tonight?” Logan asks after blowing a cloud of smoke towards you. “You were going out drinking, right?” Your mouth falls open, but no words come out. “Answer the damn question.” He orders and you sigh.

“Yes, I was going out to drink.” You say in a soft voice, your hands trembling.

“So, drink.” He shrugs. “Go on.”

Slowly, you uncap the bottle and take a deep breath before you take a swig. Your face screws up with disgust as you force yourself to swallow the alcohol, some of it dripping down your chin. It burns down your throat and you gasp, coughing and holding onto your chest. “Uncle Logan,” You say, looking at him with the pout that usually works on your dad. “Please, I can’t drink this.”

“What do you drink when you go out with your friends?” He asks curiously and you feel your face grow hot which makes him laugh. “You’re one of those fruity girls, huh? Vodka cranberries and peach schnapps? You’ve got no business being at bars, you belong at a fucking brunch.” You grow annoyed, a little insulted at the way that he’s taking to you, and he notices. “Did I hit a nerve? Go on, keep drinking, kid. Consider it your punishment and I won’t tell your parents you tried breaking the rules on your first night.”

You angrily take another swig and you groan, shaking your head. More of it spills down your chin, onto your chest. “Fuck!” You spit, wishing he’d just ground you or take your phone. Logan keeps watching you, making sure you drink and drink until you’re feeling the buzz and your eyes are stinging from the burn and your own tears.

“You oughta count yourself lucky, kid,” Uncle Logan says as he puts out the stub of his cigar. “Those boys at the bar would’ve seen a pretty thing like you walk in and roofied your drink, then what? The hell am I s’posed to tell your parents then?”

You pout, crying softly because you are drunker now than you’ve ever been before and it feels awful. “Uncle Logan,” You whine, your grip loose on the bottle as you’re growing dizzy and hot in your dress. “Please, I wanna stop.” You slur, sniffling as you try to tug your dress off by your sleeve. Logan’s eyes fall on the V cut of your dress, your breasts almost exposed as you’re sloppy with your movements, small drops of whiskey running down your middle. Your brows furrow in distress and you cry more, blubbering about wanting to take the dress off, wanting to stop. You’ve drank almost two thirds of what was left in the bottle and he chuckles at what it’s done to you.

“Let me see it, sweetheart.” You reach over to hand him the bottle. “Walk it over here.” He says, watching you with amusement as you wobble to your feet and take three unsteady steps towards him. Logan guides you onto his lap and he takes the bottle from you, turning it up and drinking what’s left at the bottom. You sniff as you watch him, wiping your teary eyes as his free hand settles on your ass. “See that? You’re no drinker.” He says, setting the bottle down and placing a hand on your thigh as he looks at you sniffling on his lap, your red lips pouty and your mascara running. “Is this what you wanted? To go drinking just to get this sloppy? You can’t even handle your alcohol. How were you gonna handle some asshole groping on you all night?” He says, shaking his head as he gently wipes your chin off with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, Logan,” You murmur, your sight blurry from tears and the alcohol drowning your inhibitions. “I won’t sneak out again.”

“I don’t believe that.” He smirks, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, wiping your tears, and you let your head fall into his palm. “You would’ve been picked up immediately.” He says softly, admiring how pretty you are and he recalls the conversation he had overheard you having on the phone before you snuck out. “Were you meeting a boyfriend?” You nod.

“Adam.”

“What do you and Adam do when you go drinking?” He asks, amused with how tame you are right now.

A smile curls your lips as you think about the things you and Adam do in his car after hitting the bars. You haven’t had sex yet, despite what your parents may think. Not because you’re nervous, but because Adam does whatever you say in the hope of someday getting into your panties. You want to keep it that way for a little while longer. “Stuff.” You blush, grinning at him, fiddling with the buttons of his flannel, and Logan chuckles.

“Does he finger you?”

“Uncle Logan!” You giggle, covering your face shyly.

Logan laughs lightly while caressing your back lovingly. “I won’t tell, sweet girl.” His hand is sliding off your cheek and down your neck, past your collarbones, ghosting over your breast while his thumb lightly traces the now dried line of whiskey drops that ran down your chest, exposed by the cut of your dress. “You sure dressed up real pretty for him.” You let out a soft moan as he tentatively kisses the valley between your breasts and he smells your arousal as it grows in your panties. It smells so sweet and fresh, it makes his mouth water and his cock hard underneath your thigh. His tongue peeks out to lick the whiskey off your skin and you mewl softly, the sound causing many inappropriate thoughts to cross his mind.

“Mm, that feels good.” You whisper, your fist tugging on his flannel and the other hand hooked around his neck. Logan’s got one large hand holding the back of your head as it leans backwards so you give him more access to your body. The other hand is groping your breast while he’s slowly kissing and licking your skin up to your neck and back down just above your belly button, tasting the alcohol you had spilled on yourself. You’re breathing heavily, gasping softly as his tongue and teeth start nipping at your skin, making you grow damp between your legs.

“So fucking pretty.” He murmurs against your sternum making you shudder.

“Uncle Logan,” You breathe out shakily, your thighs clamping together as he slips his hand underneath the skirt of your dress. “You shouldn’t be touching me like this.” You say although you’re not exactly putting up a fight.

Logan kisses your jaw softly, grabbing firmly onto the bottom of your thigh to stop himself from going up any further. “You’re right, sweet girl.” He says and he suddenly lifts you up bridal style, making you giggle as he carries you to your bedroom.

You feel so small in his arms and you find yourself kissing his cheek, humming against his jaw as your fingers lace through his hair. A small groan vibrates in his chest and you smile to yourself. “You like that?” You ask teasingly, kissing his neck as he opens your bedroom door. “Stay with me?” You ask, biting your lip as he lays you in your bed and he only chuckles. You watch as he undoes the straps of your heels and tosses them before he pulls the blanket over you.

“Go to sleep, kid.” He says as he leaves your room.

And you do, the drunken buzz in your head lulling you into a deep sleep.

🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃

Let me know what you think:)

Uncle Logan II

Uncle Logan III

Uncle Logan Epilogue

[graphic--horde]

How do you make your stamps? :0

Disclaimer: this is an obscenely long explanation, with pictures. Efficiency is stupid

So, for the static ones, I make a 99x56 px file on ibis paint x. Other programs are probably available online but I don't use them.

After that, I either upload an image I want to make into a stamp, or I draw one.

Then, I find a frame I want to use. Ill upload them here but let it be known I stole all of these right from deviantart

Most of them are from Lil-Devil-Melii on deviantart. The rest i have no idea. They're not all 99x56px but you can crop the canvas it's fine

Make sure to erase the edges of the picture , so they're transparent. It's not as cute otherwise

Upload those frames over your image in whatever art program you're using and viola, stamp.

For moving ones, it's a lot harder. Mostly because I refuse to download Photoshop.

There are a couple ways to do this. Some are simple animations, like with flashing text and whatnot. For these, you download the individual animation frames from your art program. Make sure it's transparent.

Then, upload each frame to ezgif.com under the option "GIF maker." You can play around with how fast each frame goes and whatnot but in the end, it'll be a stamp with some rad text that moves. This is easy, and doesn't make me want to shit my pants and cry. If you're new, do this. This is fun. This is good. This does not kill me inside

I made that↓ stamp with this method :)

this next one is how we turn gifs into stamps. This one makes me sad. It involves math and sucks. But we gotta do it. For the vibe

First, grab your gif. I'm using this cow gif because it's awesome

Then, I resize it using ezgif. Literally everything for this will be using ezgif. I am a simple man

At this point you should decide what frame to use. I'm using this one because its the first one I clicked

Figured out what size the inside of the frame is. That's what I resize the gif to, so the edges can be transparent. The inside of this one is 93x50 px, so those are the dimensions I'm making the gif.

Figure it out by putting the frame into ibis paint and realizing the canvas to fit just the inside of the frame, then seeing what the dimensions are. But there could be easier ways

Woah it's so small now

Then, still on ezgif, I go to the "crop" option.

Make sureeee to upload the smaller gif

press the button that says "extend canvas size", and then put the "width" and "height" as the dimensions for your FRAME. This'll put a bit of a transparent border around the gif. For this frame, I did 99px and 56px.

The "left" and "top" boxes show how many pixels the cropping happens from the edges of the canvas. The formula for finding that is

(width of gif / 2) - (difference between gif width and frame width / 2) = left box

For me it's (93 / 2) - (6 / 2) = 43.5

Then you do the same.for the height, which for me ends up being 22 from the top

This is reallyyy touchy and annoying though

Here's my result , with no visible difference

Okay so THEN you go to the "overlay" option, under "effects." And upload your frame. If the cropping was done right, you shouldn't have to move the frame at all and can just download it

Here's my result:

if you don't care about transparency, you can resize your gif to be the same size as the frame, and then put the frame over it. But I'm a slut for transparency

Anyways. I'm sorry if anything was unclear, it's two am. And I hope this was helpful :) these really are fun to make once you get it down

also if anyone has an easier way to make stamps from gifs, please god tell me