#sex is like zombies

[ineffablejaymee]

im not sex repulsed im actually a reasonable sex hater and i wont be explaining myself

[deadsouls-is-canon]

Majima says no kinkshaming! Yes king 👑

[malwaredetected]

hear me out. transfem duncan.

her name is sabrina and she is the transfem dream. badass blonde chick + leather jacket covered in pins + doc martins + eyeliner enthusiast (gwen showed her how to do it) + always has the cutest hairstyles, like, girl can pull of space buns and braids and everything.

chris tried to capitalize off it and make fun of her after her transition but the other contestants were not having it

she and the people she used to bully when she was a huge eggy bitch are friends. and like, even if they're arguing, if someone calls her by the wrong name/pronouns harold+noah+zeke will go absolutely feral

[springcatalyst]

daryl is so asexual that even people who dont know what asexuality is KNOW hes asexual

[paterday]

Keep having dreams where I’m about to have sex and it just never happens. Which is objectively hilarious. My brain is cockblocking me

[cometcrystal]

I cant believe that some people thought the romance in lisa frankenstein was gross because hes a zombie....literally grow up

[the-golden-ghost]

jigen for the headcanon ask game

Headcanon A:  realistic

Jigen is SUCH a liquor connoisseur. He is Picky about it and demands only the finest since he KNOWS Lupin has the money and if Lupin doesn't have the money then he shouldn't have let it go to Fujiko, come on man. I mean he'll drink cheap whiskey in a pinch but he's going to whine and give Lupin the hairy eyeball the whole time.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

He does the cartoon character "keep 20 versions of the same outfit" gag but he does it with his hat. Every time his hat gets destroyed or blown off or shot he has like six spares on hand so he's never without it. (His Magnum is one of a kind, though)

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

Jigen knows that eventually his time with the team is going to come to an end. He'll lose his touch, or they'll grow apart or someone's going to backstab someone else in a way that can't be forgiven or someone will die. Personally, he hopes it's the last one and he hopes it's him, because he really can't see a life for himself in the future without his teammates there. Sure, he can keep running and keep taking jobs until he burns out, but does he want to?

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

It's hard to come up with anything truly unrealistic in the Lupin III universe but uhhhh maybe the Zombie Hitman Guy was a Jigen ex pre-zombie. It could happen. Actually switch this and the hat one this one's just too stupid but it's making me laugh so

[jyndor]

okay so I guess if literally anyone can come back from the dead so can rogue one

[glassamphibians]

hey erotic cannibalism people i started a book i didbt know anything about today and now as foreplay a woman is eating her girlfriend’s “golden brain jelly” is that anything for y’all do you know abt this

[psychoticwillgraham]

me: 'i should rlly work on chapter 2 and actually finish it now that i'm on the penultimate sex scene'

also me: 'nah i should make random headcanons about this specific au and write side stories about Will's crazy sex escapades'

[rawstfish]

I had a dream one of my teachers from high school was trying to fuck this dude. I was low-key jealous because she was one of my favorite teachers, and she's hot. Anyways though I was also trying to fucking this older dude

[holeforzenin]

YUJI BOUNCING YOU ON HIS COCK

Both are twenty n hints of overstimulation. Not proofread

“Yujiii- slow down!”

“Can’t stop, fuck! Hahh- Feels too good mmm” he pants breathly, unable to contain the ecstasy bubbling inside him as he relentlessly pounds his hips up into your warm pussy with so much fervor and intensity that you could feel every inch of sexual desire coursing through you, the rhythmic motion creating an lewd connection between the two of you as one of his hand kneads into your plushy ass—sneezing it as two perverted fingers hooked deep into your puckering asshole, wiggling it around as his sturdy cock was hitting all the sensitive parts inside your needy cunt that made your eyes screwed shut as your head fall back.

Wet squelching sounds filled the atmosphere. He was bouncing you up and down on his rigid cock so quickly, didn’t even give you any time to adjust to his thick length before he lost control to the feeling of your sweet pussy snugly squeezing his cock, he was fingerfucking your tight asshole so sloppy with absolutely no rhythm but oh, you felt so fucking full, your juices were dripping all over his lap. He was so nasty, you two have only had sex a few times and he's already so addicted.

“Mmm! This pussy is so good, fuckfuckfuckkk never felt so good before! You're squeezing me so tightly hahh-” he babbles against your pretty tits, he’s just as fucked out as you are—it’s like he turnt into some mindless sex zombie. Tears prickled in your eyes as you cried out from pure overstimulation.

“Yu-yujiii stop! M’gonna cum if y-you—fuck! Keep going. ohmygodd” you moaned out, your finger nails digging angry marks into his shoulder blades as your tight possessive walls clamped around his dick, leaking all over his veiny shaft as it dripped onto his fat balls.

If he wasn’t so busy fondling your bouncing tits with his face, you’d might have gotten the chance to witness the way his eyes were rolling back to your utterance. His dick twitches with need, his weeping tip hitting your g-spot over and over, he hisses as he felt the fingers that he had stuffing your ass grazing through the thin layer separating your pussy—making everything so much tighter. Sweat drips down his forehead as the air reeked of sex.

“Y-yeah?? Cum on my cock, please! Need you to do it again fuck—wanna feel you creaming all over me!” He babbles manically, he quickly pulls his long fingers out of your tight hole unexpectedly, making you hiss slightly because of how sudden it was, before stuffing both of them into his mouth—making you mewl in disgust as he swirled his tongue around his fingers with a low hum. His hand quickly found its way back to your ass again, both of them gripping and squeezing the flesh as he lifts your ass up and dropped you down on his thick cock harder, the way he was manhandling your body made your mind soo dizzy. His forearm muscles bulging as he supported your weight effortlessly. Your back arched slightly as his tip nudges against the spot that made you feel like your soul with levitating from your body. You brought a hand down to rub little circles on your aching clit before your cunt gushed all over his cock, you screamed as he fucked the juices out of your soaked hole, his balls, thighs everywhere was a wet mess.

He whimpered as he latched his lip onto one of your tits—making you squeak as your finger quickly flew to the back of his head, he muffly groaned against you before he emptied his tight balls into your sensitive cunt, his mouth leaving your nipple with a loud pop!

“Fuckfuckfuck m’cumming! Take it, God—take all of it, nghh” he cried out as his fingers dugged crescent shapes into your ass cheeks.

Your pussy flutters as his seed filled you up, he was so deep inside your pussy that you were almost worried that he might have gotten you pregnant.

“Fuck…your pussy is like heaven” he grunts before stilling himself inside of you. Both of you are so fucked out as you try to catch your breath. You whined as his cum leaks out of you slowly. “Can-can we please go for another round??”. He begged, puppy dog eyes stared up at you as you felt his cock hardened once again.

[cutiefulism]

☆ — the sweetest pie !

cw. smut, pwp kinda, established relationship, p in v, somnophilia, dubcon?, dirty talk..?, both reader n caleb r freaks n pervs, evol usage, kinda sweet at the end, oral (m receiving), use of pet names (pips/pipsqueak, honey, baby), theyre crazy for each other idk.

wc. 2.8k+

a/n. ty to the lovely oomf n the like three ppl who asked for a part two bc otherwise i don't think i wouldve posted 😓. this took way too long to write for it to be so short, sorry! also i rlly need to stop sneaking a breeding mention into everything i write w caleb but i can't help it he's so family man coded 🥀🥀 + taglist @million-golden-drachmas & pt. 1 here!

ovulation is a dangerous thing.

and with nearly three months of no sex with boyfriend!caleb, you, sadly, are pushed to your limit.

to be honest, you really didn’t want to be the one to cave first. it was supposed to be torture for the both you (caleb moreso), and yet here you are, carefully prying yourself from caleb’s tight hold, barely holding back a grimace at his slight, sleepy whine.

you know how he gets when he isn’t holding you — all restless and irritated, waking up with dark bags under his eyes.

but it’s okay, because you are going to make it up to him, like a good girlfriend ought to do. even if he won’t necessarily know it.

you slip underneath the sheets, wiggling down, down, down until your entire body is in-between his legs, face parallel to his crotch.

x marks the spot.

your hand moves like it’s got a mind of its own, trailing up his skin before gently squeezing and rubbing his currently (and temporarily) flaccid cock.

you’re no stranger to it — you’ve seen it many times before, whether it be from a crack in the doorway or during the dead of night, the only source of light coming from the moon streaming through the curtains.

but touching it?

oh, that’s a whole different thing.

it’s just as girthy as it looks, even when tucked away inside those pesky boxers, and you can feel every twitch as it slowly rises to life, like zombies on a full moon.

your lips part, saliva rushing forward, and you’re not quite sure whether it’s in awe or desperation for a taste. actually, it doesn’t matter.

just a couple of pumps to get it hard enough to grind on. that’s it.

. . but wouldn’t it be more efficient to pull it free?

you don’t allow yourself any time to second-guess your weak excuse before tugging your boyfriend’s boxers down and pulling that big dick free.

just a couple of pumps.

it takes two of your hands to wrap around it, and you carefully spit on the coral pink tip, letting it run down the veiny length. there’s a quiet sound from above — a groan, you think, and your thighs press together, the slight ache from earlier only getting worse.

only a few pumps.

you slowly begin to work, twisting your wrists and sliding up and down until you find the perfect rhythm, one that has a few more of those sleepy but needy sounds leaving caleb’s pretty lips.

only a few pumps, just a couple of pumps, just a little . .

your lips latch around the tip, tongue swirling before you slowly take it deeper, each inch stretching your mouth wider and wider with an almost delicate burn and laying heavy on that pink, drooling muscle. he tastes like heaven.

so you really can’t be blamed when your head starts to bob or when your hand slips between your legs to rub at that demanding, puffy clit, drawing out a quiet moan and a shudder.

damn those couple of pumps. you’re not gonna stare a gift horse in the mouth, are you?

what caleb doesn’t know won’t hurt him. and this is safer, more discreet.

your drool rolls down your chin and his shaft in glistening rivulets, getting lost in that dark patch of hair or sliding to his likely aching balls. there’s no telling the amount of times you’ve blue-balled him this past week.

at least you’re kind enough to apologize, right?

it’s far too easy to get lost in him. you were almost caught a couple of times watching him — one hand shoved down your shorts while the other hand had covered your mouth, all too caught up in trying to time your orgasm with his that you had nearly been too loud or accidentally knocked something over.

truly, it’s a miracle he hasn’t caught you. that natural clumsiness is always coming back to bite you in the ass.

but, of course, even miracles run out.

both of your moans get louder the longer you suck him off, practically in sync as your fingers swirl faster and faster, slick lubricating your digits and soaking the fabric of your thin panties. you don't register the way his leg jerks or the hitch in his voice until caleb is yanking the cover back, sunset eyes adjusting to see you in the dark.

you, his sweet, innocent little girlfriend, with both your hand and your mouth on his rock-hard cock.

“a-ah . . pips?”

your eyes snap up to meet his, and your heart drops to your ass.

he woke up.

his face is bright red, lips parted for quick pants as he stares down at you. maybe he’s just experiencing another wet dream. or maybe he’s so deprived that he’s started hallucinating. wouldn't be the first time.

but it feels all too real, especially when you swallow your embarrassment and guilt down and go right back to blowing him, forcing a strangled yet surprised grunt from his throat.

your mouth is just perfect. to be fair, caleb could tell that much from just kissing you, but he thought he’d have to train you a little bit to learn how to take him. alas, his pretty girl is a natural, taking him so good and so deep with that tight throat of yours that has his toes curling.

and, y’know, he can’t bring himself to be mad at you, not really. not with how his head is tossed back, adam’s apple bobbing with every loud moan and jumbled praise, his fingers gently brushing your hair back.

yes, you deceived him, and that warrants punishment, but caleb really didn’t see it coming. how could he? you’re just so sweet, so shy — both of you were blushing like crazy when you first kissed, and you’d never done anything more than a little grinding up until tonight.

you played him like a fiddle.

he would’ve never guessed you’d intentionally send those pics of you in frilly lingerie or short dresses while he’s at work, or that you’ve thought about him putting you in a headlock since you two met.

there’s a part of his precious pipsqueak that he doesn’t know, and that . . well, that doesn’t quite sit right with his spirit. neither does you hiding that part of you from him.

after all, there aren’t supposed to be any secrets between you.

so while he isn’t mad, he’s a bit disappointed.

and you know that that is much, much worse.

something that’s evident by the way his grip tightens in your hair, pulling you free from his dick with a pop and tugging you up into his lap.

your brows furrow as you brace your hands on his chest, a small, confused pout on those glossy, swollen lips. “caleb?”

you say his name so innocently, voice soft and low, like you don’t know what you did. why he’s acting like this.

the caleb of yesterday would’ve believed it.

the caleb of today, however, simply hooks two fingers into your panties and rips, exposing that pretty cunt to the cool bedroom air.

he doesn’t miss the shudder that ripples through you, or the way your hips shift to try and grind down on his throbbing cock.

you’re just as desperate as him, all because you wanted to tease.

caleb tuts, shaking his head like some disappointed teacher, right before his big hand comes down to deliver a swat to your ass, sharp and loud. the smack echoes in the room, and your little whimper follows right behind it.

“caleb, that hurt—”

“oh, really? does it hurt as much as knowing my girlfriend has been lying to me?”

your expression falters, surprise softening the previous wince, making your eyes wide and lips part.

you’ve never had a good pokerface when you got caught.

your throat works as you muster up an excuse. “i-i wasn’t lying to you, caleb. i swear! don’t be mad, please.”

he could never be mad at you.

only disappointed, because you should’ve known that this wouldn’t go unpunished.

caleb smacks your ass again, harder this time, and lets himself grope the reddening globe. “but you did lie to me, honey. ya did. had me thinkin’ you were something innocent, too anxious and unsure to make the first move.” his hand leaves your ass to line himself up, dick already slick with your saliva, and it’ll only get slicker still. “i thought, ‘well, if she wants to do it, she’ll come to me’. so, i waited, just like ya wanted me to. i suffered through watchin’ you parade around in those flimsy clothes with no panties, lettin’ you send me those cute pics and videos of you in short, frilly outfits.”

you feel lighter as his evol lifts you up and slams you down on his aching, twitching cock, earning a long moan from the both of you.

he’s big, every inch stretching you out, molding those hot, gummy insides to the perfect shape of his thick length. you can only uselessly flutter around him — there’s no getting up, no running away, no hiding.

not anymore.

caleb is holding you right where he wants you.

“caleb,” you whine, nails digging into his chest, but it goes into one ear and right out the other.

“d’you know how many times i got hard at work? huh? got me riskin’ my job ‘cause you wanna be a tease.”

like he wouldn’t risk everything if you asked him to.

his hands go right back to their seemingly rightful place on your ass, letting his evol bounce you up and down like some cheap, inflatable doll. though, of course, you’re much more than that.

“but it — mm — ‘s okay, pips.” up, down, up, down, up, down.

your breathy whines and choked off moans do nothing but fuel him further, caleb’s hips snapping up to meet yours. he can’t let you do all the work, after all, and he’s been waiting far too long.

each thrust has his fat tip smooching your cervix and pummeling your g-spot, making your eyes water and vision blurry. “ungh, caleb, ‘m sorryyy—!”

another smack, and you clamp down. “you’re sorry?”

“yesss,” you mewl, and caleb chuckles, low and mocking and sexy. you know and he knows that you’re not sorry. how could you be sorry when it got you the results you wanted?

the results you both needed?

“sorry for what? lyin’? going ‘round about when ya know i gladly would’ve fucked you?” up, and he slams you down again. this time, though, he keeps you down, letting you squirm and writhe for even a little friction. “hm? which is it, honey? don’t go gettin’ shy on me now.”

and as much as you want to deny it, he’s right. you are getting shy — not about finally having sex with him, because you’d never be embarrassed about that, but about saying why you’re sorry.

something about voicing it aloud just makes your stomach twist up in knots, heat crawling up the back of your neck and spreading throughout your body. blame it on a shitty upbringing or some weird sort of anxiety, but something about it is just so humiliating, more humiliating than sucking his dick in his sleep.

the human mind is a fascinating thing.

your gaze, for the first time, averts from his, and even in the low lighting of the bedroom, caleb can see that flush in your face, all cute and red, and the way you gnaw on the inside of your cheek.

“i . . i’m sorry. for lying. and . . and being difficult,” you mumble, and your hips wriggle to the perfect angle so that he’s brushing against that sweet spot, sending a happy tingle down to the base of your spine. “can i move now?”

caleb has always been aware that you’re a little demanding, despite your attempts to be subtle about it. lucky you, because he’s willing to give you everything you could ever want and need.

no exceptions.

he wastes no time forcing you into position: laying on your side, leg hooked over his arm, and ready for his cock to slam home.

and it does, again and again and again. this time, though, instead of pounding your poor cervix, caleb is just smooching it with every thrust, something sweet and gentle; almost like an apology. or, more accurately, a reward.

“see? it w-wasn’t that hard to be honest w’me, mmm, fuck . . ya gotta tell me what ya want.” he may not always be able to guess what you want, but caleb always knows what you need, even if it takes him a little while.

without a singular doubt, he knows you need this, to be treated like the shameless little thing you are.

half-lidded eyes watch as yours slide back into your skull, jaw going slack as he resumes that mean pace from earlier, his own lips parting. “fuck . .”

it’s not calculated anymore — no more precise thrusts up or slams down. no, he’s much more focused on repeatedly shoving all seven inches inside, bullying the same spongey spot over and over like he’s doing target practice.

a need that’s been building for months tightens low in your gut, making your gooey walls flutter and cling tighter to his shaft. caleb is so deep, so rough; and while you should probably want your actual first time to something gentle and sappy and sweet, this is twenty times better.

feeling every harsh drag and hearing every mean slap of his flesh against yours, practically tasting the irresistible urge to cum on your tongue only makes your body hotter and your pussy wetter.

and he knows it.

“dirty girl,” he groans, balls briefly drawing up, and he has to think about anything and everything besides you so that he won’t nut inside. you haven’t mentioned anything about babies.

yet.

“s-shoulda know you were like this — hah — t-too sweet to be true.” his hand slips between his pistoning hips, the pad of his thumb collecting your slick with a swipe and beginning to swirl that neglected bundle of nerves.

you jolt, sweet cunt squeezing down on him like a vice. “caleb!”

“say it louder,” his fingers curl into the meat of your calf. “ngh, t-tell me everythin’.”

your brain is nothing but mush inside your skull, sloshing around every time his pelvis meets yours, and the thing that should register shame and embarrassment is entirely out of commission.

your fingers curl into the sheets, tugging at them like they’ll save you. “i’m gonna cum,” you whine. “‘s so deep, s-shit, mmf!”

even as the pleasure finally simmers over, white-hot and overwhelming, your mouth never stops moving, juices spraying and cunt gushing. “y’feel soo good, baby, ungh, oh my god— jus’ like t-that!”

that praise goes straight to his heart (and dick), making it ache with unwavering adoration.

because, yes, he’s the one making you feel good. not your fingers or some silicone toy or a vibrator, but him. caleb. your boyfriend and to-be husband.

(he’s not moving too fast, right? . . he’ll ask gideon.)

you like— no, love what he’s doing enough to forget your inhibitions and sing pretty praises for him.

it might be a little pathetic, but with that, caleb truly can’t hold out any longer. he pulls out with a fwop, giving himself a measly two pumps before those sensitive balls draw up tight and he cums, stringy, hot spurts of white landing on your stomach and waist with a long, whiny moan and a shudder.

his seed clings to your smooth skin, almost like a mark, and that has your hole giving a weak flutter before caleb crawls over you and pushes you fully onto your back. his hands gently cup your face, and he leans in to press his lips to yours, soft and reverent, but definitely sloppy.

you two swap spit for as long as you can until he’s pulling away to let you breathe, his own sweaty chest heaving up and down. “you’re so pretty, pips. my pretty, naughty, amazing girl.”

. . ah.

you avoid your boyfriend’s heavy gaze, and instead focus on the plant in the corner of his room. “caleb, don’t start.”

he grins. “oh?”

it seems like your brain has rebooted and is back to functioning . . somewhat. enough to have you be embarrassed, at least.

he can’t have that.

“if i remember correctly, you were the one who started this, no? suckin’ my dick under the covers.” he tuts, and you squirm.

“i-i couldn’t help it . .”

caleb presses a kiss to each corner of your mouth, then your cheeks, and finally, the lobe of your ear. “mm, well, if ya start somethin’, honey, you should be the one to finish it.”

the tip of his cock gently prods at your sopping folds, and he doesn’t bother biting back a breathy chuckle when you squeak. “c-caleb, wait—”

“one orgasm for every slutty photo ya sent me, mkay?”

you swat at his chest. “i said— nghh!”

caleb manages seven whole orgasms before you tap out. that’s not even a fraction of the number of pics you sent him, but that’s okay. you need your rest, and besides—

he can always fuck you again later.

[frys-the-cat]

what else would shadow keep in his underwear drawer...

From my experience, the most common not-underwear thing to be in an underwear drawer is socks. The second most common thing is a snack you're hiding from a family member.

I'm not sure what you're implying here Anon. /Lie

[sceletaflores]

slippin' and slidin' all over you!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!

logan forgot to fix the ac...

It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.

One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.

"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"

"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.

You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"

Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."

Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"

You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck. 

Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room. 

All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.

Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin. 

You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.

It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.

Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.

Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.

A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.

You fail.

“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”

You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in. 

The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.

"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."

“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.

Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.

“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”

“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.

The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.

"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.

You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you. 

"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”

Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.

"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.

The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.

"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."

With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.

You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.

Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat. 

But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh. 

You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him. 

You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”

Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”

“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”

“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.

You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.

You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”

Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before. 

You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."

Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.

He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."

You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.

His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.

"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."

You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.

Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.

Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.

Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.

“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands. 

The last threads of his restraint snapping.

 He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.

“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.

Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.

Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.

You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.

It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer. 

The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.

“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”

“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.

He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”

Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.

The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”

You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response. 

“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”

Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”

You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.

Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.

You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.

You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.

Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”

Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. “Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”

He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.

The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.

The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come. 

“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.

Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.

"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."

A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."

Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.

"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."

A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.

His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.

“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.

Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."

The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.

The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.

Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.

The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.

Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.

You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.

"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"

Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.

“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.

"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."

It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.

Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.

When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.

His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.

Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth. 

Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.

"Swallow," he commands, unwavering. 

You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.

Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.

As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.

“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”

You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.

“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”

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mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...

[elodieunderglass]

changes and trends in horror-genre films are linked to the anxieties of the culture in its time and place. Vampires are the manifestation of grappling with sexuality; aliens, of foreign influence. Horror from the Cold War is about apathy and annihilation; classic Japanese horror is characterised by “nature’s revenge”; psychological horror plays with anxieties that absorbed its audience, like pregnancy/abortion, mental illness, femininity. Some horror presses on the bruise of being trapped in a situation with upsetting tasks to complete, especially ones that compromise you as a person - reflecting the horrors and anxieties of capitalism etc etc etc. Cosmic horror is slightly out of fashion because our culture is more comfortable with, even wistful for, “the unknown.” Monster horror now has to be aware of itself, as a contingent of people now live in the freedom and comfort of saying “I would willingly, gladly, even preferentially fuck that monster.” But I don’t know much about films or genres: that ground has been covered by cleverer people.

I don’t actually like horror or movies. What interests me at the moment is how horror of the 2020s has an element of perception and paying attention.

Multiple movies in one year discussed monsters that killed you if you perceived them. There are monsters you can’t look at; monsters that kill you instantly if you get their attention. Monsters where you have to be silent, look down, hold still: pray that they pass over you. M Zombies have changed from a hand-waved virus that covers extras in splashy gore, to insidious spores. A disaster film is called Don’t Look Up, a horror film is called Nope. Even trashy nun horror sets up strange premises of keeping your eyes fixed on something as the devil GETS you.

No idea if this is anything. (I haven’t seen any of these things because, unfortunately, I hate them.) Someone who understands better than me could say something clever here, and I hope they do.

But the thing I’m thinking about is what this will look like to the future, as the Victorian sex vampires and Cold War anxieties look to us. I think they’ll have a little sympathy, but they probably won’t. You poor little prey animals, the kids will say, you were awfully afraid of facing up to things, weren’t you?