#some earth scribble
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THEE audiodrama disguised as podcast
#sherlock and co#s&co#sherlock holmes#john watson#mariana ametxazurra#Ive been thinking abt these design SO much lmao. even while doing other things#decided to take cues from acd/granada more. hence sherlock's headband to mimic slicked back hair#and I went with Colors bc. well first of all Im a clown. but second of all I recall some stuff abt victorian fabrics and uh. the wonder of#arsenic green etc#they were enjoying the colors I can commit to some#and. okay Im so real with u Im also a long haired john truther bc he has a podcast of course he'd have long hair but#I think its gonna take a Hot minute. currently this is still like the slightly-grown-out regulation cut#john's jacket is bc he and sherlock are 90s kids. this was a moment of enlightenment to me. I can give john every windbreaker on earth#mariana gets the jean jacket bc I like to imagine she's a y2k kid#(sherlock I think is only 90s kid in year of birth that man's childhood was skipping class to burn shit in the wood)#(but he canonically sews which I fucking love so much. he has not bought new clothes for almost a decade#if a shirt's disintegrating no it isn't. not on his watch)#a lil sad I cant figure out how to give them hats lol I feel like thats the most victorian thing there is. a stupid hat#I can at any moment give one of them a beanie. but I refuse#there are. like a Hoard of other scribbly sketches I did to get used to drawing them. but those are for me those are not for the public#and also theyre in my sketchbook and Im too lazy to scan them#happened mostly during lunar new year lol. I was getting Hard whipped then thank u s&co for carrying me thru#ok I do other things now. have this for a while ok? thank u#have a good night lads. enjoy motion
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thinking about Eddie & hyacinths again
#as you can surmise im Perfectly Normal about it#this man doesnt make me insane at all. nope.#trying out some new coloring and texture and background things...#on a side note. and i say this so lovingly bc theyre my favorite flowers#FUCK DRAWING HYACINTHS ALL MY HOMIES HATE DRAWING HYACINTHS#that was hell on earth.#ANYWAY THIS DUDE IS NEAT I HOPE HE DIES#nah im jesting im Jesting. am i tho#dead or alive i want him to experience unimaginable horrors and then die ten times and come back Normal#bc eddie strikes me as a 'dying would fix them' character#whether its a real death or a perceived death or Youve Been Dead The Whole Time death dont care dont care#i need him dead on the ground for at leeeaaaast five minutes#id be frothing at the fucking mouth. ragh#scribble garnish#welcome home#welcome home puppet show#eddie dear#originally this was gonna be a Very bloody little piece#but then my brain went 'hey. symbolism. what if the blood was flower petals. from hyacinths'#and ohhhh i couldnt pass that up#i wish i did! i would have had a lot more fun drawing a gruesome injury rather than Those Damn Flowers!#i dont know why ive latched onto the hyacinths outside the post office but my brain wont let go#ITS JUST SO SPECIFIC. why why whyyyyyy put that specific flower by this specific guy#especially flowers with Those Meanings and That Myth#*violently shaking the site* WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNN#ok im getting myself too worked up i need to touch grass or poke the fire
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"All I've gotten is pain and suffering, until the Supreme entrusted me with the Miraculous—now, no one will hurt me anymore!"
Who would've thought that I would cry about an emo 15 y/o's backstory today. Not me that's for sure
[Click for better quality!]
#she's the most important person on planet earth actually#and she deserves to be happy#even if she committed some crimes. that's alright many of my fav characters committed crimes#ml spoilers#ml paris special#ml paris spoilers#miraculous ladybug#miraculous#scribbles#lonely thoughts#i haven't drawn ml fanart in almost a year i think wow
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boyfriend that looks like a girlfriend
#bluu.oc#bluu.original#solarverse#jude#oc art#digital art#character design#no id#FINALLY got something for my earth themed superhero#he uses he/him but doesn’t really care that much btw 👍#so kinda he/any#smoking tw#the tattoos also arent final i just know i wanted him to have some#so he gets some scribbly placeholders#until i can design some better ones#or i’ll just leave them as-is idk#he seems like a random stick and poke kinda guy
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@reddd-robin this guy ^ suppose this designs a bit of a mix between the batman forever two-face and the batman '89 book. wiki had a tidbit abt how actor billy dee williams (faceclaim for the '89 book two-face) was originally intended for the batman forever role bc hed played harvey in a previous movie but got switched to tommy lee jones
#scribbles#am not a comic book head but it was very fun combing thru some info on this character. the idea of finding solace in giving the power of--#--choice to a coinflip after an incredibly traumatic event bc it is the only way u can make a choice at ALL makes me feel ILL !!!!!#oil pastel crumbs all over my desk now. intermingling with the paper doll clippings. hell on earth
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can shark ouppies and water girls be friends..?
#ocs#original character#hydro tag#mori tag#crows art#scribbles#yes...yes they can <3 peace and love on earth#i wanna color the one at some point...these are just warm ups tho :-)#seal girl and shark kid friendship supremacy fr man#sharks#seals
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lets see how simplified i can make my art without trying to chew my own foot
#even my sketches are pristine so when i need to be silly and do some real nonsense scribbles i CANT#hell on earth
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God the new Diablo 4 trailer looks so freaking cool. From the soldiers to the lady praying in front of the shield wall as demons come running at her.
And then there’s Inarius.
#Scribe's Scribbles#video games#If you watch the launch trailer warning: the first 30 seconds has a lady burning her feet by walking on molten earth and it is graphic#Ultrakill and Diablo really out here with some of the best angel designs#Also how the FUCK did Inarius get out??
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and god help you if you're not binary trans and then god DOUBLE help you if you're not nb "the right way" aka "so basically i'm a third binary gender that looks exactly half way between girl and boy also i'm completely 100% human and 100% desire to be human and only human and just as invested in picking Gender Team to be on as everyone else because we all know the only thing that exists or matters in the universe is baseball and exactly what baseball team role you define your existence by permanently without ever even considering anything else right?"
the Trans Experience in our society is being treated like schrodinger's gender. you're a woman when they wanna deny you agency and a man when they wanna deny you support. this is an experience that unites nearly all of us, whether transmasc, transfem, or something else.
#most people even in queer spaces don't even believe you exist then. at best you get treated like woman lite#(but only if you were considered female originally. if not then you get treated like “disguised man(derogatory)”#even by people who otherwise aren't fond of terfs)#and good fucking luck trying to explain any relationship with identity stranger/more complicated/GOD FORBID more distant#than the afformentioned 'i'm the third binary gender'#without *every single* other Not Straight/Cis person on earth IMMEDIATELY deciding on some level that you're just a narcissistic cis poser#and if you're very lucky they will be polite enough not to say so to your face immediately upon every interaction#but will still continue to treat all of your opinions and inclusion under their umbrella as a polite afterthought the existence of which#is entirely dependent on you never actually saying anything or having any opinions or needs/wants in general#and never attempting to actually *use* any of that Queer “Community” Cred or expect to have like. voting rights within said “community”#well allow you to pretend you're one of us so long as you sit down shut up and don't expect us to ever actually give you a club creditcard#purely for our own convenience of course. but when the chips are down you'll be our meatshield and we expect you to thank us#for even allowing you to be that much in our presence#and xenogenders? voidpunk? even the most basic types of multigender/fluid? god for your own safety just fucking forget about it.#half the lgbtqa+ population will consider your very existence personally offensive enough to actively want to explode you with their mind#and the other half will condescendingly pat you on the head and assume you're a furry and/or that you're only like this because autism#as if it's any of their damn business#and the good old universal fallback “anyone who likes/thinks/feels a thing i think is weird can only possibly be doing it because fetish”#i still rememebr years ago when people were clamoring for a trans npc on flight rising but ignoring that scribbles was right there#because scribbles is they/them nonbinary so they “don't count”#people still don't count them last i saw#in the same breath they were insisting galore (a cis man character to my knowledge) absolutely HAD to be trans because#“the shape of his eyesockets looks too female” which is uncomfortably reminiscent of just straight up terf bone structure arguments
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now this one was an absolute Blast to do!
outfit is once again from @chocolategothwolfhorse, whose ask is full of bangers
#took some.... whats it called... dreamcore? weirdcore?#well i took inspo from those i think#its a Vibe i enjoy a lot#ive very lightly dabbled in it before but with this one i kinda leaned into it#never underestimate the power of using Real Images#scribble garnish#welcome home#welcome home puppet show#welcome home fanart#julie joyful#HAVE I MENTIONED THAT I LOVE JULIE YET??? BC I DO#she's so pretty....#me? having a crush on a puppet? its more likely than you think#id never be able to handle her tho she's too Powerful#she'd say hi to me and i'd be blasted clean off the face of the earth#nothing left but a red smear with heart-shaped glitter stuck to it#actually no not glitter i have Personal Beef with glitter. lets make it confetti#or sprinkles... holy shit yeah sprinkles.... red smear w/ sprinkles#the fish-shaped ones you get with the funfetti blue icing#yknow when i was younger i made a cake and i individually placed each fish sprinkle - sprish - onto the icing#which i styled in the shape of ocean waves#very insane behavior of me! or just autistic...#i love looking back on my life and going 'hey wait. huh. hm. well.' and then i put another penny in the autism jar#yeehaw and may i say hawyee
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Ghostly Heir or Batty Custody?
DP X DC
———
The Justice League Watchtower was an advanced piece of technology, housing the world’s greatest heroes. But even in a place dedicated to protecting the Earth, some things were simply unavoidable—like gossip.
It had started innocently enough, as these things often do. Superman, having just returned from Gotham, was discussing the latest developments in the Batcave with Wonder Woman over a cup of coffee. The conversation was meant to be private, but when you have people like the Flash who can be in and out of a room before anyone notices, privacy is a relative term.
“So, Batman has another kid?” Superman had said, trying to keep his voice neutral.
Wonder Woman raised an eyebrow. “Another one? Are we running a daycare now?”
Superman shrugged. “Not sure. But he’s different from the others. White hair, glows a little. Bruce is being… secretive.”
“Bruce is always secretive,” Wonder Woman pointed out.
“Yeah, but this one seems—” Superman’s words were cut off as the Flash zoomed by, pretending to be busy with something else. The two superhumans exchanged a glance but said nothing more, knowing that once the speedster got wind of something, the whole League would know within the hour.
And they did.
Back in Gotham, Bruce Wayne—better known as Batman—was oblivious to the brewing storm. He sat in the Batcave, going over the latest reports on Gotham’s criminal activity with his usual intensity. Beside him, a ghostly figure floated lazily, occasionally glancing at the screens with mild interest.
Danny Fenton—known to most as Danny Phantom—had been in Gotham for a few weeks now, lying low while he figured out how to deal with some supernatural issues back in Amity Park. Clockwork had suggested Gotham as a good place to lay low, citing the city’s reputation for attracting all sorts of weirdos. Besides, Clockwork had argued, Batman wouldn’t care as long as Danny didn’t cause trouble.
And for the most part, Danny hadn’t. He’d stayed out of Gotham’s wayward criminal elements, kept his ghostly powers under wraps, and only occasionally wandered the streets at night to stretch his legs (or float, as it were).
Of course, he hadn’t counted on the Bat Family.
Damian had challenged him to a duel within minutes of their first meeting, insisting that he prove himself worthy of staying in the Batcave. Danny had countered by turning intangible and letting Damian tire himself out, which only seemed to frustrate the young Robin more.
Tim had interrogated him about the nature of ectoplasm and ghost powers, scribbling notes furiously as Danny tried his best to explain without giving too much away.
Jason had simply grunted, muttering something about “another brat” before disappearing on his motorcycle, while Dick had been the only one to offer a somewhat normal welcome.
“You’re like, what, the seventh kid Bruce has taken in?” Dick had said, clapping Danny on the back. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
“I’m not staying here permanently,” Danny had replied, but Dick had just laughed, as if Danny’s words were the punchline to a joke only he understood.
Things had been relatively quiet since then—until now.
It started as a low hum, a barely noticeable vibration in the air. Alfred, the ever-watchful butler, was the first to notice something amiss.
“Master Wayne,” Alfred said calmly, setting down the tray of tea he’d just brought in. “We appear to have… company.”
Bruce looked up from the Batcomputer, his eyes narrowing as the hum grew louder, evolving into a low rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of the Batcave. Danny, who had been floating upside down, lazily spinning in midair, suddenly snapped to attention.
“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Danny muttered, his expression turning from bored to annoyed in seconds.
“I’m afraid I cannot,” Alfred replied, his tone as even as ever, despite the growing disturbance.
The rumble turned into a roar, and suddenly, with a burst of green light, a swirling portal opened up in the middle of the Batcave. The vortex crackled with energy, and from it stepped a towering figure clad in ghostly armor, a crown of ectoplasmic fire atop his head.
Pariah Dark, the Ghost King, had arrived.
“BATMAN!” Pariah’s voice boomed through the cave, rattling the glass cases that held the old Robin suits. “I, Pariah Dark, King of the Infinite Realms, have come to challenge you for the custody of my heir!”
There was a moment of silence as the words hung in the air. Danny facepalmed, groaning audibly. “This is not happening.”
Bruce, for his part, remained as stoic as ever, though his eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. “Your heir?”
“Yes, my heir!” Pariah bellowed, his eyes glowing with ectoplasmic energy. “The boy you have taken into your care! I will not allow this—this mortal to usurp my claim!”
Bruce’s gaze flicked to Danny, who looked thoroughly unamused. “Is there something you forgot to mention?”
“Oh, come on!” Danny threw his hands up in frustration. “This isn’t what it looks like! I’m not his heir, and I’m definitely not up for custody!”
Pariah seemed undeterred by Danny’s protests. “You defeated me in battle, boy. By the laws of the Infinite Realms, that makes you my heir! And now this Bat-creature seeks to claim you as his own! I will not stand for it!”
Bruce’s expression remained impassive. “I’m not trying to claim him.”
“See?” Danny gestured to Bruce. “Totally not trying to claim me. So you can just go back to the Ghost Zone, Pariah. No custody battle needed.”
Pariah’s eyes narrowed, his fiery crown flaring. “The only way to resolve this is through combat! Batman, I challenge you to a duel for the boy!”
Bruce glanced at the portal, calculating the odds. “And if I refuse?”
“Then I will take the boy by force!” Pariah declared, raising his massive sword, which seemed to materialize out of thin air, crackling with ectoplasmic energy.
Danny floated down between the two, trying to keep the peace. “Guys, let’s just calm down. No need for a duel. I’m fine. No one’s taking anyone by force.”
Pariah looked down at Danny, his expression a mix of paternal concern and royal indignation. “Do not worry, my heir. I will defend your honor.”
Danny groaned again. “I don’t need my honor defended. I need you to stop making this weird.”
Before Danny could protest further, Bruce stepped forward, his voice as calm as ever. “Very well. A duel, then.”
“Seriously?” Danny looked at Bruce, incredulous. “You’re just going to agree to this?”
“If it ends the situation quickly, yes,” Bruce replied, his tone as dry as ever. “This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with an overprotective guardian.”
Pariah raised his sword, clearly satisfied with the outcome. “Prepare yourself, mortal! I will not hold back!”
“Hold on, hold on!” Danny zipped between them again, clearly exasperated. “We don’t need to do this! Pariah, go back to the Ghost Zone. Batman, you don’t have to fight him.”
Pariah looked genuinely perplexed. “But… the honor of the Infinite Realms demands it.”
“No, it doesn’t!” Danny insisted. “The Infinite Realms don’t care about some weird custody battle! Besides, I’m not a kid, and I’m not staying here permanently! I’m just crashing for a bit!”
Pariah frowned, lowering his sword slightly. “You… are not staying?”
“No!” Danny said, exasperated. “I’m not staying! I’m not your heir! I’m just Danny, okay?”
The Ghost King looked around, as if trying to process this information. “But… you are under his care. It was reported by reliable sources.”
“Reliable sources?” Danny echoed. “Who told you that?”
Pariah seemed to hesitate for the first time. “A rather talkative sorcerer in a trench coat. He mentioned it while muttering about ‘bloody bats’ and ‘undead nuisances.’”
Danny blinked, realization dawning. “Constantine. Of course.”
Bruce’s expression remained unchanged, though there was a faint glimmer of irritation in his eyes. “This… Constantine has been spreading rumors?”
Danny sighed heavily, feeling more tired by the minute. “Look, can we just forget this whole thing happened? Pariah, you go back to ruling the Ghost Zone. I’ll handle Constantine. And Batman, you can go back to doing… whatever it is you do.”
Pariah Dark seemed to mull this over for a moment before finally lowering his sword completely. “Very well. But know this, boy—if ever you require my assistance, you have but to call.”
“Sure, sure,” Danny muttered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
With one last, dramatic sweep of his cape, Pariah Dark stepped back into the swirling green portal, which closed behind him with a final, ominous crackle.
For a moment, the Batcave was silent. Then Danny turned to Bruce, looking both sheepish and annoyed. “So… I guess I should have warned you about that.”
Bruce simply nodded, his expression as unreadable as ever. “Next time, try to keep your interdimensional family disputes to a minimum.”
“I’ll do my best,” Danny promised, floating back toward the Batcomputer. “But with my luck, that’s not gonna be easy.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Bruce replied dryly, already turning back to his work. “And tell Constantine to keep his mouth shut.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Danny muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he floated back to his usual spot, thinking about the supernatural messes that seemed to follow him wherever he went.
As the Batcave returned to its usual state of brooding silence, Danny couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Gotham wasn’t the best place to lay low after all. But with the alternative being another encounter with Pariah, he figured the Batcave wasn’t so bad—at least, not until the next interdimensional incident.
#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc#dc x dp#danny phantom#justice league#pariah dark#pariah dark is still king
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fuck and pretend ౨ৎ
𖤐 .ellie williams with a breeding kink⊱.
౨ৎ "gon' make you a baby mama, hm?" 🌸
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.
⋆' summary; bright blessings, aphrodite. hazy harbor of your lust, loose ribbons, and smooth touch. a strawberry sun kisses the earth with its sunset, a gradient so divinely captured above your picket fence visible from the kitchen window. a front row seat to dusk settling as you get fucked, the soppy wet clashing of your loins erupts. ellie, with her goddess given right, will knock you the hell up.
⋆' cw; dom!ellie, horndog!ellie, farm!ellie, breeding kink obv, depictions of cum + spit + nipple play + slight food play + spanking + fondiling + very slight lactation kink + rough mannerisms + dirty talk + rough talk + cum kink-ish + gentle dominance + cocktip teasing + strap sex + fingering (r, barely) + finger sucking + multiple positions (bent over, on the counter) , 'her cock' used more than 'strap', some plot + backstory, very detailed descriptions of fucking, smut heavy, reader has fem style/wears skirt, petnames; babe, baby, mama(kinda), slut, whore(not in dialogue), bitch(not in dialogue)
⋆' pairing; farm!ellie x housewife!reader
⋆' a/n; i'm horny. ⋆' wc: 6.7k ellie's masterlist 𖤐
a brilliant orb in the sky permeates a hot singe to your skin, making a day meant for mundane mutilation of vegetable roots drinking up the rich soil, dreadful. oh how you longed to be inside with your girlfriend, ellie, the rufescent headed mutt that pawed you to take a break, on the bed, in her lap. 'later, baby.', you just had to say that. but no, you just had to work, huh? the autumn sun bearing tidings of a good harvest just had to sing an enchanting tune, lulling you to the outdoors.
a heap of green already lines your wheelbarrow, a yelling chance to dip and jump into ellie's arms, who ensconces her bottom to the pleasures of a springy sofa in the family room, scribbling away matters that clot her noggin. oh, it would be so divine to just die of exhaustion in her grasp, straddling that tepid lap beckoning a cozy seat, melding your fingertips with the tense ache that mantles her neck, while she lewdly palpates the chub fat of your ass she deems 'a cute tush' with those strapping hands of hers.
"fuck it." the barrows handles drop to the grassy ground, giving the produce in the basin a bit of a bumpy ride.
the most salivating notion wins, food, fucking food. you burst into that kitchen with a sugar craving, a hellacious craving that puppeteers your fingers to fondle the beige flour into a meshy dough, powdering up your fingertips til it caked under your nail. eugh.
a strawberry and cream pastry of crispy golden beige delight is your end goal, pictured to be a celestial five star treat in your rather delusive fantasies. the butts of ruby strawberries stabbed through as you pull the stems out, gleaming juices of a translucent pink coating up your fingers so sweetly, you just had to pop them in your mouth. sucking all that flavor off, like a fuckin' lollipop.
you drift your finger out clean, a long smack squeaking from your lips, and then hum in rumination, "hmm, lemons– or no lemons? lemons.. or no lemons?" quietly spoken, tossing your eyes between a ripe lemon and the pulped strawberry.
"no lemons," ellie, bearing the element of surprise, intrudes on your introspection. speaking with a low, coarse timbre, pitch breathy, "hi babe." her body is then suddenly pressed into your backside, hand slithering down your hip and caressing your pantyhose– clad thigh gently.
"oh shit– ellie!" you yelp, instinctively pushing your rump back on her groin devoid of purpose, "ya' spooked me.." a throaty whine thrums from you.
"nah– u're just easily spooked." her brows pinch opposingly, slowly creeping her jaw in the cornered nook of your neck, parched lips nipping the flesh with summery hot licks.
"hehe– that tickles.." you jerk away slightly from her scruffy tuft of coppery hair like a plume stroking your skin.
a smile grows pliable against your skin, "good.." muffled ellie, wet smacks eliciting from her hungry latch.
"bored of ur' journal?"
"uh–huh.."
"or just happy that I'm here?"
"mhm.." she dozily agrees, slinking her head off your scruff, "missed you' out there."
"oh, i bet." you frolick kittenly, snatching up the same strawberry you pulped through earlier to cut it, "got fucking tired of hauling that barrow 'round anyway." you complain, speaking with discernable strain in your tune.
"hmm." she hums in consideration, worried about the amount of work you lug on your shoulder from a day–to–day basis, "l'mme help."
her fingers cottonly twine through yours, biceps hugging yours, chin perched softly upon your neck, taking both the strawberry and knife from you and cutting it deftly, chhp, chhhp, chop!– goes the sound of buttery slices.
you slump your head aside, just relishing the warmth for a moment, at genuine peace that your girlfriend was there. she was so soft with you, softer than petals, gently domineering at any split mention of fatigue. laying the midday away on the couch? joins you instantly, pressing and kneading the tender skin of your swollen feet while discussing more than humdrum topics. stomach rumbling loud enough to raise the dead? she immediately rounded the kitchen's trim to cook you a plethora of meals, taking every picky craving into heavy consideration. indecisive about your outfit? she would glide an oaken chair up to the dresser, plant you on her lap– in your undergarments, and choose what she personally fancies, sneaky hand groping your thigh.
"there you go." she mutters ardent to your shoulder with throaty rasp, knife clanking as she sets it aside.
"thanks baby.."
"n'problem.." her lips fumble the words, settling on bespattering the biome of your stretched neck with wet kisses– subtly hungry ones, and reposes her arms to slink over your hips, enticing them closer into her groin.
you scoop one pile of diced strawberries into the gullies of both palms, letting them plummet into a plastic green mixing bowl, plop.. plop, humming a tune, "hmmmm…hhmhmmm…"
you hear her chuckle, a small vibration amassing the length of your skin with an accompanied smile growing.
"you laughin' at my song?"
"mhh, that's not a song." she criticizes, lips pursing into a bud.
"hmph, rude." you circle your eyes in offense, faintly swaying your hips while you pestle the fruit into a sweet puree.
her hips react and ungulate a sluggish grind into your rump, acting impassive to it, "s'bored.." she croaks, clammy forehead sticking to your jaw.
"hmm?"
she doesn't clarify, instead, begins to nick your neck with pinched lips, letting the skin gingerly spring out each time. her hips, however, grow rough– wanton. little bounces of her humps smush your thighs into the counter, mind clearly anchored in her imagination.
"els?"
her relentless chafing continues, piling up the fabric of your skirt into a creased mess which only gets worse when her hand wedges between your bodies, palming her crotch with a few squeezes, "mhhn.."
your fingers nearly slip off the pestle, the stimuli of her humps withering away that poise calmness, "baby.." you whine.
"so, so– bored, baby." her grubby mitts fall and knead the shallow flesh of your hip bones, applying detectable pressure in the crevice beneath your hip bone. smutty, balmy prints sunk into your skin.
this fucking horndog, this auburn maned lovergirl could never let you rest on a busy afternoon like today. all the time, she was just pleading for pussy– pussywhipped, grinding her pelvis on your thigh amidst cuddling, to nudging your butt against her groin with both hands, whenever you bend over. you can hear the indecencies boiling on her wicked tongue right about now, pleading for a tryst.
a long suspire whorls from your nostrils as you turn in her embrace, nudging her fervid laps off.
she pouts a petulance, wet lips sheer in the frosty panes light, "why'd you move?"
"talk t'me," wisped sweet like honey, "what's on your mind?" you lace your fingers with hers, swinging your linked hands side to side playfully.
she pours a groan out, screwing her lids tight and throwing her head back, "baaabbee.." ellie was plagued, at minimum. lewdly plagued. a notion that topped her mind and wouldn't let go.
you thought it was, temptingly cute. the way she reels her head back down, jarring her weary eyes open to beadily gaze upon you, lips parting moistly.
"i have this.." a sharp gust waves off her throat, humbled to even say this, "dirty fuckin' idea.."
"enlighten me."
"i just think.." her eyes deviate from yours, staring at the cupboard, "you'd be really hot as a mama." a hint of smokiness grits in her voice, gazing at you with the most haunting bedroom eyes known to womankind.
"oh really? that's illuminating." you knit your brows, feigning marvel.
"tcch–" her textured lips creak into a cresten grin, hissing shortly, "like.." her fingers flee yours, drifting two brawny grips on your waistline, inching closer with each idea she lists, "i could take care of you, start baths for you, cook you meals and carry you to–"
you intervene gently, "you say it like you can get me pregnant." and laxly cross your arms.
her forehead creases in offense, "uh, i mean," and eyes barrel roll to the ceiling, then on you, chiseling a smirk opulent with smutty intention, "don't need a baby t'do.. whatever."
"whatever?" your tune curls.
"could just.." she pulls your groin snug to hers, pelvis protruding farther than her torso, thighs melding together, "fuck, and pretend."
you blush, mouth gaping in muted elation observing the way she pushes her crotch into you, "so foul.." you giggle.
"so?" a hand lifts from your hip, notching your chin firmly up to face her, "can i convince you?"
"how?"
an absolutely mischievous look casts over her features at that 'how?' , prominent dimples that plot her next words to flow out.
"here," she releases your chin and swipes a grip on your wrist, jerking you forward as she tugs that hand between her legs, "feel that, baby?" whispering a fingerbreadth away, toasty breath misting like perspiration on your earlobe.
you palpate the inseam, knobbing over a phallic bulge with her hand guiding you. oh my goddess, she's been wearing that shit all day.
"can i fuck y'with it, hmm?" she begs, voice drenched with silken clemency, and leathery callousness– control awaiting your word, lips of coquetry avid to your ear.
truth of the matter, at the back of her perv–diluted noggin, she knows she can't exactly get you pregnant. however, that's the hidden perk nobody talks about. play the part, make it feel real, and it still sticks the same. she can fuck you over, and over– and over again, sow her seed and never reap the physical consequences.
that girl can pretend well.
you feel the heat clump on your cheeks, turned on by her forthright request, "here?" you question foxily, feeling the excitement slowly trickle through your loins.
"yeah– right on this fuckin' counter." unfiltered and dirty, so suddenly, so tantalizing. her hands pitch up and draw upon your skin like a woven page, lurking the entire span of both arms around your hips.
"god, els.." you cling your arms around her nape, chest pressing firmly on hers, "i'd fucking love that."
her face lit up brighter than all the stars combined. reclining brows, smug–smothered eyes, and the most uneven smirk to ever jerk her lips. a brightness– so carnal.
"yes.." sounded so relieved in her breathy mutter, wetting her chapped lips before she slinks onto yours, dragging hers over the plush of your buds with a passion.
"mhh..mh.." you moan onto her lips, pushing with tantamount force to her hungry kisses.
a wet smack snaps the huddled space as she parts, "can taste those strawberries, ooh~" she huskily frisks with arching brows, returning to your lips with a pucker and slobber.
all during your tepid makeout eggs you both on, pink muscles entwining, mouths nearly trying to swallow each other up, bodies rocking like a ship riding the tide– her willowy digits tuck under the fat of your asscheeks, groping and pulling the two globes apart in rounded circles tight enough to cleft the chub with creases, frilly fabric of your skirt snagging on the ridge of her bouncing palms.
"love' this cute tush." she states with a satisfied scratch in her voice, a deep laugh gusting onto your lips.
"a fuckin' slut for it huh?"
"yeah baby!" she halfway hollers into your mouth, gripping your asscheeks like crab claws and giving a good shake– featherlike slap included.
you buck your ass out for her usage, urged to wave your hips in a figure eight motion, which she really likes, too much maybe. a booming smack! resounds the kitchen as her hand draws back to indulge a harsher slap, rubbing the red streak left in its path.
you yelp throatily, spitting from her avid lips, "fuck! ellie.."
"hey– c'm back here." her head follows your retreating one, plastering your mouth sealed and tongue–fucking you with that pushy muscle worming past your teeth.
her horny ass just kept spanking both cheeks, which triggered a proud "mmm.. mhm…" to intone on your lips as you jolt in reaction, caressing the flush heat gathered by each whack.
"more?"
"ghhnn– elli.."
"fuckin' take more." she veers that hand back and lands another blow, creeping over your shoulder to perv at the nylon–confined skin. right, your pantyhose.
you tuck and bat your lashes in the crook of her neck, whining right into the ears eager to hear you break.
but, she couldn't do that with all this fabric, could she now?
"nice.. but.." her grubby claws then prod the cloaked crack of your ass, a shrill ripping through the air as she tears a massive hole in your pantyhose– wholly for better access, now exposing your full behind.
you quench a lapse in your throat, "oh, my god." and peek over to eyeball the torn material, noticing how discolored your butt has become and poking your hip out.
"hurt too much?"
"n–no.." you swallow again, reverting your pupils to her, "hurts just right.."
she smirks merry to one cheek, hollowing an alto, "makes' you a dirty fucking slut, amiright?" spoken on a crescendo, second–guessing with her lips gravitating back to yours, but she pauses.
it dawned on her.
something even more impure tethers her attention, down– down, on that chest of yours.
the rustiling of fabric chafes as her hands slide from torturing that delicate rump further, then splutters, "take ur' fuckin' tits out, 'gunna suck on them." just straight up, stern edge like metal to her tone.
no hesitation hurdles your hands, straying from her neck you pleat your shirt over your head and stretch back to unclasp your bra with a pinch, letting it tumble off your chest and hit the ground with a padded thud. the gale of cold air hardens your nipples, perking up two nice targets for ellie to ogle– both in sight, and in taste.
a sweet– tart taste.
"hmm," ellie's pupils wander off your drooped chest and fixate on the separate dish of intact strawberries, glowing pink in the dying suns' radiance. her elbows straighten and forearm extends towards these gems of interest, scooping one up with her thumb, index and middle combined.
"what are you doing with my–"
"shh, just watch." her prudent fingers then toughen and squash the berry above your clavicle, letting the barmy pink liquids squeeze through her knuckles and drip onto your chest.
a gasp dries your throat, "ellie!"
a few mashed bits plunk down amongst the heavy fall of berry juices, managing to drizzle down the rise of your breast and split over your nipple. mission success? though now the victim strawberry– squelched to a gross chunk, makes a home chucked into the handy trash bin.
ellie licks her lips and stares dead straight on your hardened nipples. itching for a taste of that strawberry deluge.
"fuck.." her throat quivers, taking no time in searing the distance between her tongue and your breast promptly with a hunched back, bringing her heart–shaped pucker to the strawberry–saturated nub and locking on, sucking hard, making you jerk. ellie definitely has a thing for this.
"was wasting that strawberry– mhhf'– worth it?" you sport a quip quickly, the small vacuum sensation on your nipples only just starting to nip that pleasure kernel in your brain.
it definitely was. cause ellie had already vampire–suckled all the flavor off your bud, now snaking her tongue up the excess stream of juices and retreating back. those juice–coated lips squelch open, muttering, "so' fucking worth it."
so fucking worth the lady boner penned behind that zinc rivet.
her lips wrinkle around your other nipple, opening and closing her mouth around the bud with a slow nutate of her head. inside her mouth was so warm, so wet, and the fleshy texture of her lips felt fucking riveting. the stimulated twang of salacity brought in the form of sucks and licks has your pussy sappy and caked in precum, and ellie could tell how wet you've gotten by the yearning chafe of your thighs, so she forcefully wedges her knee there– making you grunt at the pressure, and her giggle at your response.
you card your fingers through her hairline, fondling her autumn tuft while she sucks that swelling nipple dry, causing an 'mmhhh.' to vibrate from the depths of her lungs, guttural on your boob. one of her hands rove up and cusps the same boob against the webbing of her thumb and pointer, squeezing the blubber of mass further into her wet rosy hole– like she's genuinely sucking something out of them– thirsty, her parched tongue laps a gloss of gleaming saliva over the bumpy node, determined to have you unravel.
"oh, els.. baby~" you tug on her hair, piqued by the blossoming ache in your clit raring for ellie to just get on with it.
"mhhpghmm.." her lips suction with a pop, roads of ruby red mottled on her cheeks from your angle. so eager to toy with that forming arousal, but with persuasive control. "s'this convincing enough?"
you toss your head back, extending the curved surface of your neck, "i'm already convinced.." you gasp for air, surfing a breathless moan behind the carry of your voice.
another pop sound has her lips wandering up from that sensitive bump and craning to your lips, taking advantage of the situation. her fantasies overrun that dirty mind of hers, aching mentally– and physically, to have that pussy engulfing her thickset cock. to fuck you raw. fortunate for her, you were already won over by the rough terrain of her tongue setting you over the edge.
"m'kay baby.." her humid syllables shudder over the span of your midface, promptly, churning into a demanding growl. "turn around, n' bend over the counter. doin' it right here, c'mon." her words usher you and fingers force you, contorting your hips with her steely grip without even giving you the chance to move yourself, other hand reaching over to knock the bowl of strawberries– now scattered across the tiles like the starry sky.
you wobble around on your ankles as she bucks you into the counters' rounded steel rim, laying her palm plumb between your shoulder blades and pinning you down, pitching a yelp from you when the cold surface practically freezes your nipples.
that's when you realized, she wasn't playing around.
ellie's spindly fingers pleat your skirt up with a swat, then drift down to catch and tuck in the lacy band of your panties and tug hard, pulling the thread to the point of frayed snapping– without giving you a wedgie– until she could remove it from your hips through the hole in your pantyhose, chucking it somewhere east of you. now she could gape at everything. the bare truth of your engorged pussy rearing for her, splayed out like a whore. nuder than an amaretto.
and it made her giggle in gratification, lugging that adams apple around with her wheezy laugh.
"look at 'chu bent over like this," she gruffily awes at your ass jacked to her hips, golfing up a 'hawwkkk' and a 'puh!' as she aims a spit down the crack of your ass.
it streamlines through the canyon of your backside 'til it mixes with the slick of your slit. can't let it go to waste, so– she jams the soapy spit into your hole, to which you clamp her in.
a jerky chuckle croaks from her chest, rustiling her mullet with each jounce, "sensitive now, are we?"
"ellie–"
"okay, okay– i'll stop." she slides her fingers out, popping them in her mouth while she observes you from this lewd position.
in the sorbet light, you were gorgeous. cunt dripping nectar like a waterfall to your thighs, ass hiked up and sloping into the plateau of your back. you looked so perfect. perfect for her hands to melt into. perfect for her cock to sheathe into. just divine. positively divine.
"alright.." her voice rattles deep, slightly muted in a gulp after tasting your cunt on her tongue, swishing her spit around to pick up every note of flavor.
moments later, you hear the metal clank of a buckle jingle from behind, the prongs strike the floor as her jeans clump up at the base of her ankles, blanketing her feet. then, a silicone tip slots it's bulbous nature between the top of your thighs, smacking up onto your slickened labia playfully.
"god– it's like a fuckin' waterpark back here babe."
her feet scoot closer, poking the chub of your globes with her jutting hip crests, enraptured in the pure way your folds already look like they want to swallow her up. they faintly part as the silicone cockhead smears your arousal from clit to hole, hole to clit. a half–moon smile dilates into the apples of her cheeks, prideful. a smirk you can hear loud and clear in her dirty, outrageous comment.
"gonna knock that pussy up, hmm? gonna fuck a pair of twins in you so good baby~" she coos, delirious seeing the head of her cock slosh around the fat lips of your pussy, grooving two concentrated lines between her brows and wagging her peachy muscle wedged in her lips. she was like a devil in heaven, and you an angel in heat. two strapping grips slap and clutch onto your ass, the fat bulging through each finger gap, calloused fingertips blending with the texture. her knees bend to crouch her hips slightly, dragging the hem of her brown button–down up by the protrusion of your ass as she aligns her frame level to your cunt. one hand drops down to catch hold of the faux cock and toys the rim of your gummy hole, sinking the head in just barely.
your sensitive entrances' involuntary answer to this scant plugging of your hole clenches the tip up fast, sucking it further in. ellie loved that. loved how your pussy was taking her without a halt. a love so dazing, she begins slipping and inserting the head only, eyeing the contracting hole gorging over the rotund spade each and every small thrust.
a whiny complaint trebles off your gullet, "are y'putting it in? baby.. please." but the petulance in your plea just rouses ellie up– excessively.
ignoring you, her focus tunnels solely on the tight hole kissing her cock in intervals, pleating up her earth brown shirt to eye her constricting muscles speckled in freckles, the pale blue–glossy v–line cadreing her hunter green cock that only deepened the lines in her abdomen with each pump. with her gaze aimed downwards, she speaks directly downwards, "be a good pussy and take my cock, yeah?"
that was her game. her conflicting game. the only words you heard before she fastens the dick bulky in her wrapped grip and lugs her entire length inside, blowing your vulva thin with how straining her size was. wow. a sight she froths over.
"mhm–" she continues, tensing her chords up to flow out a breathy, gritty, whisper, "take my cock like a good pussy."
you feel the force impact your cervix straightaway, globs of clear lubricant slip and pool through the slim opening her cock barely provides and drips onto your thigh, cold and sticky, marks like paint. "ellie– h'oh fuck!" you wail in the stinging sensation of sudden brimming, which only drives her to crack another slap blistering red on your ass, "eeah!" you squeak, tears scorching the shoreline of your blurred eyes.
she wanted a tear to slip out. she wanted a cohesive sign that her cock felt tight, warm, filling. a kind of filling that bumps your stomach, makes you feel pregnant. cause you would be, take my word for it.
ellie analyzes the new ring of creamy serum wrapping her base like a ribbon of white lace, milky delight. it fades as she drags her length out, and bubbles when she sheathes back in. nothing could stop her finger from sampling the slimy slick, but, no. not this time.
in her mind, that's her precum. her sperm. not a drop should be dripping out of you.
"g'nna fuck my seed– so, so.. deep."
and by her word, she knurls her torso into a convex bend as she swathes over you, cottony shirt to back, tickling your flesh. like a dog licking your ear, she mashes the lobe of your ear with her soaked lips. chanting a one–lined hymn in your ear as her cock skids along your ridged walls and returns with a pumping rhythm, keeping your pelvis steady in her slack grip.
"makin' you–" slap, slap, slap, "a mama'," plop, plop, plop, "with my c-cock.. no–one else's." her huffs fan the baby hairs near your ear, lips brushing so dearly on the conch. each sticky bop of your hips plays like a hand smacking water, bringing shame to the ears of every wall witnessing this dirtier–than–porn event.
your features tog up into a woozy countenance. lips wedged open like an orange slice, pupils reading your upper lashes like a string of musical notes, head jiggling with each lavish pump into your pretty little pussy. it feels so fucking good. spurts of pleasure that make you wish on every damnable star for her to actually get you pregnant. the way she fucks you like this, all pathetically horny with her own ass clenching into each thrust. you'd take her babies in a yoctosecond.
her bushy brows curl and furrow in enthrallment, enthralled by every honeyed whimper she pulls out of you with her dick. it fed her ego, the greedy ego telling her she is impregnating you. each vein, bumpy on the creasing skirt of your blushing hole shaped to fit her cock, felt so real– it hurts. ellies' had enough. she skims her palms just a hairbreadth down the planet of your ass to sink her talons in the supple crevice of your hip and thigh, held hard enough to move you. this meant only one thing.
ellie was tired of playing it safe.
her torso pastily unsticks from your back, casting a gray shadow with her hover, grunting, "listen– t'me," her hips sway and punch with heftier, vehement– stickier thrusts, the fat plastic cockhead sending a flux of pressure with each smash into the tacky wall of your vagina, "answer– d'ya think, mhh– our kids will have auburn hair, like me? frhm– freckles, like me? my eyes?"
the constant abuse to your cervix chokes up your throat, warbling and going "guh, guhp– unh! fhhummk.." with your flaccid lips damp in slob, like a filthy mess of a bitch.
wrong answer.
you should have just offered up her name in an exaggerated moan instead.
the extent of her hand extracts from your hips– not without her gift of nail–birthed sickles indenting your skin like scales, and coils back to whack your vainly treated glute. it makes your vision go white, tenderizes your skin and makes you scream.
"n–nnono, els–"
"so– no they won't look like me?" she laughs to herself, and it almost sounds– amusingly disappointed.
"n– yes, yes! they w–"
your throat then nearly guzzles her fingers base knuckles deep, muffled and choking on their stacked width.
"just shut up." ellie warns in a gruff. thing is, she knows that as long as her thickset tip keeps slamming into that assaulted cunt– she'll never hear the end of it. and that's the best part. confliction.
the counter was virtually warming up on your compressed cheek from how long you were in that position. slippery sweat dampened a puddle under your face in a thin pellucid coat. from your current view, you could only see her wrist pushing on your chin– cranking your jaw ajar, and her humping motions bleary in your peripherals. not like seeing her was necessary, you already felt her through and through.
ellie, with her hips strapping you down in prolonged rams that cause a sharp sear on the hind of your thighs, with the downright sedative pleasure brought by the bumping base to her neglected clit, finds herself earnestly thinking about how a family would look on this farm. her baby, growing in you. her kids, skipping through these rustic halls. her wife, devout enough to nurture them through childhood. but on the perverted hand, her cock fucking a future generation into you, 'her' pussy gluttonous enough to consume it up to the hilt, her whore, eager enough to be the cumbucket to breed as she pleases.
she's gonna breed you like the horndog she is.
but you want to be full of her offspring.
"baby–" a stiff moan pours from her lips, and she glides her cock and digits out. snow white cream follows in strings, strung to her shaft and springs out like paint splatter on the ground as her strap bounces down to a flaccid level. wow. she moans again, this time, breathlessly, "baabby.. get'on th' counter.."
"hmmuh?" flubbed you, barely able to see the picket fence outside the kitchen window through your graying haze– shapes blurred and melted into each other.
"said," the lone grip on your hip is replaced with the clammy bend of her elbow, tucking under your womb and flipping you around, "on' the counter." and lugs you hurriedly onto the sudor–coated surface with her grasp under your knees. her hands flatten on either side of your shaky thighs– vividly like jello– as her torso huddles close in your space. now that she could see your face, it was sexually comical.
doe–eyed and glossed, lids puffy and red. patterns of your own saliva glissade down your chin and gleam in the soft light behind you. so hot.
her teeth bear in a parted smirk and she drunkenly stumbles her face down. then, she notices something. a pearly strand of sleek cum trickling over your perineum. like a melted popsicle, you drip everywhere, all over that counter space.
ellie's tongue ticks on the roof of her mouth, sighing, "mmh' fuck, pussy dripping everywhere– clean this counter afterwards, won't you?" spoken like a silken demand, index pointing at the mess.
you keenly nod, squinting with those weepy eyes as you try to discern the moving colors of your girlfriend right as she heaved her fat cock right back inside. stars. stars heat you skin and strike your vision. a night of black spots burn through your eyes and caper around– obscuring ellie's blissed out face. you were already fucked out from the last position, so fucked, you nearly came at the meaty expansion of your aching hole.
ellie could tell, and that was her cue. her goddess given cue to bottom out. the friction of her girth akin to a fist stuffing you up was pushing up on your g–spot, and that knocked a tear out. the ones lashing at your ducts to release, finally did.
you couldn't feel anything else– anything, but her cock.
moist sloshes cram up the space between you too, smacking and dragging as before. faster, harder, her hips never lapse and pick up the speed. tapping you out like a nozzle draining syrup from a tree, gushing and coating her cock beautifully. smack– smack– smack– goes her groin deluged in your sweet sex juices connecting like webs with each bash of your hips.
on comes a dirty row of her impudent and vile comments– barely stable voice from how fast she pumped, all tepidly whispered on your neck.
"knockin' that fhckin' pussy up– huh?"
you can feel the warmth radiating off her face a breath away, a cheek–length strand of hair now sticks to the sweat veiling her hairline. pores beading with glassy perspiration. just as red as you. huff, huff, gasp.
"that pretty pussys' mine– mhh, all mine."
ellie's palms leave two clammy prints on the marble slab when her fingers pop off and clasp your pelvis. with this grip on you, she pushes your hips hard on her relentless pounds. no wall of your vagina lacks a thrashed kiss from her dick, your hole was just too tight for any air pockets. that tight. just pure ush–gush.
"god' m'sucha dirty slut for ur' pussy, such a fucking whor– ughhn!– wantin' to make you–a mama." grizzled her in a lower voice, but still so rough, sweating and huffing like a dog in heat.
the cupboards creak and squeak, scarcely bearing the racket she induced with her fucking into you.
the intensity marches on.
"els– els, I'm gonna cum.."
it was nice to hear, but she was infinitely more focused on cumming herself. she was close. very close. eyes screwed tight in the straps kickback digging her clit with firm pressure, knuckles flushed white as they bent and tried to carve into your hips. ellie couldn't get enough of you.
"yeah– me too, nghh~"
her own slick begins to lather up her crotch, sticking up that auburn bush, dripping off the strapbase and staining the crinkled jean pile directly underneath her.
the kitchen reeked of cunt– yours and hers. delicious sex miasma. the scent of raw arousal coats your nasal cavity, lulling you both to climax– two hearts on the same beat.
but there was one thing. one thing you could give her, that'd change your lives from there on out.
"baabe–" a shallow utter gusts from her lips, shuddering, "can' i fuck you– god, fuck you like this? mate you– make babies with you, more often?" her voice warbles, fighting back the breath that wanted to give away.
the plunging and swelling of her dick parting your walls made it potently harder to answer– but, you creak, taking all the breath she would give you, mouth to mouth.
"yes, ellie– i want to have them."
her eyes squinted ever so slightly, sharpening, pupils blown. a wicked, scantily–contained smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, a glint in her eye revealing the excitement she felt by your words. in a heartbeat, her lips met with yours– wisping and wetting each other up.
but it was no feat to the sudden acceleration of her pistoning hips.
ellie's lips withdraw, moaning rigidly with buffering pants, "gon' make you a baby m–mama' now– ooh fuck!" feeling the same rise to orgasm tighten her stomach.
"yes– yes! unh‐ uh fuck, ughh!"
the clanging cupboards bang and thud as they do, but your moans eventually clamor up over them. her cock, sought the last final blows to your gummy ring inside, gathering up all that viscous serum in strings stuck to her bulbous head. this was it. she was finally getting her reward– viscously.
"love you–"
it tightens.
"s'much–"
it pulls.
"thank y– unngghh!"
she snaps.
your thighs convulse and lock around her hips as she buries her dick deep inside, plugging that bruised–to–hell mucousy cervix up. a high so heavenly it curls your body up to hers, cumming all over that filthy fucking cock in clear spurts, plashing all over the veiny shaft that had you weeping moans.
ellie had came too, matter of fact, all over the floor.
a dense and husky moan grates from the lowest region of her diaphragm, "hhhggn– uhhugh– fuck, baby."
her eyes grew taut and scrunched in ecstasy, jutting her hips and clenching her ass to ride out the orgasm. a spew of her release taints the straps footing and leaks down her thigh, saturating in her skin. veins popped in her gripe, incisors bit her lip nearly hard enough to break skin, and eyes twitched back tenfold, casted heavenward.
a sunset clasps the shingle roof from above, depicted so innocently behind the pane, unknowing to what has come of you two.
the moment softens.
and you're left with two fatigued bodies.
her arms loosen and flop on your sprawled lap, and her head finds a collapsed purchase on your shoulder. ellie's chest rose, fell, and rose again, swallowing up all the air her lungs lost in the heat.
"think I just died," she dramatically heaves from her chest, gulping up the pooled spit in the trenches of her gums. a giggle shakes her, "hehe~ did you die?" she jests, nudging her limp hand to your shank.
the words carrying to your ears mish–mashed into an agglomeration of sounds strewn from her actual sentence, "there's n'pie in the oven.." you slur breathlessly, tongue nearly lifeless in the pit of your mouth.
ellie tries her darndest to compress the laugh grizzling from her throat, still winded, "w-what babe?" her head tilts to gawk at you.
"god i'm so dizzy.."
she blows a raspberry from her lips and knits her brows– amused. of course she's a tad worried your energy had been worn from the fucking, but, that's the funny part. she actually did that. her buzzy voice coaxes you back to animation, "want some'in to eat?"
wait.
that's literally what you came in here for.
wait.
you peek at the green dome next to you, toppled over with dotted strawberry wedges scattered all over the stony tile– and your strawberry jam. really ellie? a pout cockles your lips into a plumper shape, notching your head on a slope, "did'ju knock over.. all of my strawberries?"
she swings her head 'round, feigning innocence, "umm– nope, wasn't me." puffing up her cheeks.
"ellie."
she blows tersely, "i didn't!" and throws her hands up defensively– in playful spirit.
"and you ruined my panties!" you scold lightheartedly and jab your heel in the back of her thigh– a little bit of punishment.
"ow!"
a reaction spurns from your lips, replaced by a jaded expression of hushed brows and trying lips that curl your face into one of, content. ellie forced a few puffs to spill from her open oval lips, hereafter curling into that same shit–eating grin that knows she's guilty– chuffed by herself.
then it wanes. wanes like the moon bearing its shrouded cycle. she softens up, softer than the bunny hopping across thick green grass in the season of beltane. this felt more fundamental to her than you might think, but, caring for you was her duty of worship. ever since that day she met you– the evening plait with a crimson ember engulfing air at the center of an autumntime bonfire in jackson. cold perspiration stuck to the glass held in your hands, talking the very ears off every owl present to listen. you had shared, sung, flirted, and saved the kiss for later. a later spent in her bed, all night– rising at dayspring, where she asked you to be her girlfriend at the foot of her door, just as you took your leave.
every wound you tended to, she tended to yours, and led you here. on this farm. in your own realm of heaven.
"but seriously– do you want something to eat?"
"yeah, i'll um.." you shoo her away from her parked poise between your legs, sliding your weight off the counter with a heft of your forearms pushing you off, "clean the counter." your toes ease onto the floor with a shaky wobble, unable to even straighten your legs out at first. damn, ellie, what have you done.
"yeah, nuh–uh," she briskly bends at the torso and bars her robust arms underneath your mid–back and in the fold of your knee, sweeping you off your heels.
"els, what the f–"
she tousles her woody auburn mullet in a wag of her head, crunching you up closer with her biceps, "you, babe– are going to rest. i'll clean the counter." her brows raise at the end of her emphasized sentence, a silent 'capeesh?'.
her amenability never ceases to blossom those heartstrings of yours.
"yeah, yeah.." your eyes toss around the rim of your brow bone, and land back on her in time to spot a chuckle churn her watermelon pink lips.
those lips then settle and purse into a pucker, idly sidiling her face plumb to your forehead and peppering a moist kiss, pulling back slowly with unhindered affection tugging the corner of her lips into a satisfied smile.
"see? m'taking care of you. just as if–"
"if i was pregnant?"
"mhm.."
"you want it that badly?"
".."
"well– maybe.. jackson has some adoptable kids?"
now you're just feeding that fantasy of hers.
taglist; @whore4abby , @picklesarenice69 (im too dumb to know who wants 2 be on my permanent taglist so pls tell me directly if u ever wanna be tagged in all of my fic posts)
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#farm!ellie#horndog!ellie#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#ellie williams x fem!reader#ellie williams fic#lesbian#sapphic#ellie williams concept#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams fanfiction#dom!ellie#breedingkink!ellie
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Whispered Truths
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your weekly reading club with boyfriend, Spencer Reid, has never been as sweet and life-changing as this night Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 0.8k a/n: This is actually a request from @bloodredrubyrose and I really liked how this came out. I also used my favorite piece of fiction here as a prop so I hope you like it! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist
Couples, no matter how new or old, tend to create personalized dates as a way to strengthen the relationship. Some go on hikes together, some go on travels, while some stay in the comfort of their homes—under a blanket with a chosen book on hand.
You and Spencer definitely fall under the latter category. It was quite obvious from the first meeting that literature would be one of the strongest bonding agents between you and him. After all, it was how you were brought together—crashing into one another at the library with books and miscellaneous items scattered on the tiled floor. A few shy glances and bewitching dates later, you found yourself spending your Saturday nights in the presence of your boyfriend of six months, hosting an exclusive reading club with just two members, you and him.
“I never thought of it that way,” your left hand paving an aimless path through Spencer’s curly hair while the other held the book up high.
The pitter patters of the rain outside softly echoed through the walls. You were propped up on the loveseat sofa, his head resting on your lap as he looked upwards in question in regards to your statement.
“Never thought of which?” His voice low and soft, striking a resemblance to how he gazed at you oh so lovingly. As if you were the most riveting piece if art he had ever laid his eyes upon.
“How water played a big symbol throughout the whole book. It was really focused on during the first chapters but I—I just never quite connected the dots,” you clarified, bring the book to a close.
It was your choice for the week, East of Eden by John Steinbeck—a modern classic and had been your favorite work of literature since high school. Spencer had lent his copy to you last week and you vice versa—both turning brown from age, pages about to fall apart from its binding, annotations scribbled on the margins and any lengthy self reflections written on various notebook pages sandwiched in between.
“Your explanation on the empty pages at the end—how water is capable of bringing both life and death. Water being essential for the crops but at the same time, drowned victims. It’s such a poignant note that I think I just fell more in love with Steinbeck’s writing,” you added. “It also made me realize how water in his novel represents the dual capacity of the human soul for good and evil. How we are all filled with conundrums and contradictions and what makes us different from the other species on Earth is our ability to choose whether we are good or evil—” Spencer had sat up and leaned in, interrupting your musings. “—what?” You breathed out as his lips hovered on yours.
The once cozy atmosphere quickly charged with tension and desire that seemed to ooze out of Spencer. There was little space in between and you had no doubt that from the outside looking in, it looked like he was kissing you but he was not, rather a sliver of air was still given space to pass through. So close but so far.
You studied his features up close. How his long lashes fluttered like butterfly wings beating against the wind as his molten, darkened, hazel eyes flickered between your lips and eyes. How his nose lightly caressed yours in an endless Eskimo kiss. How his cheeks stained into a lighter shade of red. And how his pink tongue peeked out to wet his pillowy lips.
“I’m in love with you,” he whispered as if it was some kind of national secret that he now felt right to expose.
Your breath caught in your throat. This was the first time he had said it. His love for you had been conveyed with every touch, with every action, and with every silence but this was the first time he had put it into words.
His lips caressed yours—the pressure almost non-existent. A ghost of a kiss to gauge your reaction and consent.
“I love you,” he repeated a little louder this time, eyes locking into the very depths of your soul. “You and your mind have enchanted me since the beginning—so beautiful, so captivating.”
The butterflies set free in your stomach caused you to viscerally shiver in reaction.
“I love you too, Spencer.”
A smile graced his face and it was bright and as blinding as the sun, like it had finally decided to stop hiding behind the clouds and show itself in all of its glory.
He leaned in once more. The pressure from his lips now heavier and headier, trying to stamp his everlasting mark on you and in between all these kisses were whispers of his utter devotion and adoration until there was no more space—until you both became one on his loveseat sofa.
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid request
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Baby Mar’i toddles up to Starfire and holds up a piece of paper covered in crayon drawings. “Look mama, is you!”
[[Thank you for the ask!]]
Instantly beaming at her little Bumgorf, Starfire is delighted to see the picture. "Oh! This is very beautiful! You are a great painter, Mar'i!"
#✫ Tamaran to Earth ✫ | Answered#anon#the drawing is probably a typical kid-drawing-scribble like thing#I never really know how to answer these asks about lil!mari#like it's all cute no doubt about that and I absolutely love to imagine star with her at some point in the future#(and my time[line]-travelled version of her in current day too)#but I still don't really have much I can write to asks like this one; I'm sorry!#also ofc this probably would need some form of older!verse or sth bc what I picture my main to be she's barely in a proper relationship yet#but I have no older verse and likely won't have any time soon bc I suck at thinking up anything abt that so uh yeah#okay enough rambly
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@a-scary-lack-of-common-sense made a Gravity Falls au (the HWINEBHABWNAJCAHOWEEATOWEUB au and yes that's the short form of the au title lol) that I really like the concept of. Hopefully I didn't break logic or anything but wrote it a small little oneshot. Enjoy ^^
Bill blinked, slightly disoriented. He always felt disoriented when someone summoned him. You would too if you ever experienced it. It's like being pulled through a vacuum, but with less wind and more spinny.
He looked around. He was in someone's shadow. No, not someone, something. The thing seemed to be the shadow of a large pine tree. While a plant's shadow wasn't the preferred option, he did rather like being a tall shadow.
Bill looked directly beside him. One of Ford's great grand kids was there. He hadn't known them long enough to be able to tell the difference. "Dipper and Mabel are their names" he'd been reminded by Ford several times.
This one had short hair, most of it tucked underneath a baseball cap. The child wasn't looking at Bill, but rather something in the distance. Bill could make out that it was some kind of beast with horns and a lot of hair. He looked back at the kid.
"Hey kid, what'd you need me for?" Bill asked, watching the kid's eyes snap from the beast to him.
"Help," the word was barely above a whisper. Fear grew in the kid's eyes as they darted between Bill and the beast.
"I dunno what you want me to do kid. Can't exactly do a lot as a shadow," Bill shrugged. The beast approached. He saw the kid produce a pen from the jacket he was wearing. It was one of those pens he'd seen Ford using while writing his journals. Ford must've given one to the kid.
Checking over their shoulder constantly the kid clicked the pen on and started carving directly into the tree Bill was borrowing the shadow of. Suddenly, he felt disoriented again. He gathered his barings to see the kid had carved an eye into the pine tree.
He could also feel everything the tree felt. The fact several branches were ready to snap, that one woodpecker nest, the beehive further upwards, the snapped root several miles underground. It was overwhelming but he got adjusted fairly quickly.
Bill looked back over at the beast, of which he got a better view of now. It looked like a minotaur. He'd seen his fair share on Earth, but he didn't know they lived this far west. No matter, it looked fairly stupid.
He felt the kid hide behind the tree. Probably for the best. After all, if he hurt Ford's kids he'd never hear the end of it.
The minotaur got closer and closer. Bill had a deviously gleeful look in his eye as the beast finally was within reach. With a satisfying snap, one of the branches of the tree fell off and hit the minotaur's head. It went down.
"Okay run kid," Bill said but the kid seemed frozen in place, staring at the tattooed minotaur.
"Are you waiting for an invitation?" the kid dug out a small notebook, quickly scribbling something down with the pen, before running off. Bill didn't bother to try and figure out what that meant. The kid was probably like Ford. He seemed to share the same chaotic scientist energy, even if the kid was more subdued.
Least now he had an experience with one of the kids kinda properly. The "Pine Tree Incident" as he decided to call it.
—
"Hey Pine Tree, other one," Bill waved to the kids through the small artist model Ford had summoned him to.
"Pine Tree?" the two asked, all three humans confused.
"I gotta have some kind of way to tell you two apart until I can remember who's who," Bill laughed. Pine Tree slapped his face with his palm and the other one laughed with Bill.
#neo is rambling again#gravity falls#neo writes#dipper pines#bill cipher#hwinebhabwnajcahoweeatoweub au#mabel pines
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wowowowow official tmagp post⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️
love how he’s just perpetually confused
plus some reactions i scribbled in the corner of my sketchbook
im up to protocol 13 so far teehee
okay last time i tried to listen to tmagp i got up to p8 and then kind of forgot about it
but 5 months later
WOWEEEEE
ALICEEEEEEEE OMG ALICE ALICE ALICE MY BELOVED
I ADORE HER TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH AND BACK
SHE’S EVERYTHING I WANT TO BE
SHE’S SOOOOO
💕💕💕💖💖💖💗💗💗💗💘💘💘💘🫶🫶🫶🫶
When i heard colin’s voice this time around
it was like i could Sense the autism zeroing in and saying “that one. that’s the one.” and approaching with its claws unsheathed, ready to start ripping him apart
yeahh also SAMMMM <33333 he’s so everything
so sillyy
i love needles so much i need to draw him too
mr bonzo is fucking horrifying
gwen and alice are gonna get their own post bc i drew them some more
edit: everyone thank @potato-lord-but-not for motivating me to pick up tmagp again with their lovely gorgeous delicious art <3
#artists on tumblr#izel scribbles#traditional art#the magnus protocol#tmagp#alice dyer#samama khalid#colin becher#celia ripley#gwendolyn bouchard#sketches#tmagp spoilers
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