#things that make me wanna eat dirt

[pegsmothman]

ⁱ. ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ᵃᶜʰⁱˡˡᵉˢ ᵇʸ ᵐᵃᵈᵉˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵐⁱˡˡᵉʳ. | ⁱⁱ. ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵃᵈᵃᵐ ᵇʸ ᵐⁱᶜʰᵃᵉˡᵃⁿᵍᵉˡᵒ. | ⁱⁱⁱ. ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵐᵃⁿ ᵇʸ ʳᵃᶠᵃᵉˡ ⁿⁱᶜᵒˡᵃˢ.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

.・College Ellie Headcannons゜・

Note: This is more loser Ellie-centric, I wanna maybe do a part two with just reader and her. Some sexual content and mentions of getting zooted below so 18+ warning!

•Art major, but she’s not the typical hot artsy lesbian you dream of her to be. More like rolls a fat blunt and sketches in her journal, it’ll either turn out to be a masterpiece or look like a crackhead had a go with her paper.

•Speaking of art major, when she’s horny and frustrated because she refuses to hook-up…she draws the lewdest art known to woman-kind. Those are her real masterpieces, but she can’t exactly turn them in for credit in her art class, can she? Fuck, the things that woman can make, though. Lowkey uses her exes naked bodies as inspiration though, maybe kind of weird but who’s gonna stop her?

•Doesn’t eat the food on campus half the time. She is embarrassingly addicted to Tai Pei containers and the occasional microwavable egg-roll. “That shit’s nasty, Ellie! Goddamn, just eat the Tacos 4 Life we have on campus.” Her friends will all tell her, but no. It’s like a guilty pleasure. Maybe it’s cause she grew up lower class and is used to TV dinners, has a special trauma bond to food that should be banned and probably is outside of America.

•Wardrobe consists of band tees, honorable mentions to Gorillaz and Falling in Reverse.

•Is actually an insanely talented writer. After reading her journals I feel like nobody talks about how emotional her entries are and she keeps a journal of her own in college for sure, not only for sketching and organizing art but also to write all her feelings out.

“Fuck me, this is my last year being gay.” -After her and Cat’s break-up, probably.

•Hates coffee. Definitely game-cannon, but this is important to the college setting. It’s the classic Monster or nothing, and she will absolutely judge you for drinking coffee. She calls it “the devil’s dirt.” So dramatic.

•Used to watch bad Hallmark movies because of Dina, now watches them alone because she misses Dina. There’s nothing like crying your eyes out to Christmas Under Wraps!

•Has a collection of rubber ducks on her shelf. Doesn’t use her very small space for normal things like her wallet or books, no. It’s rubber fucking ducks.

•Also has a slipper collection in her tiny closet, from Pikachu all the way to dinosaur feet.

•Has the “two-seater” t-shirt (iykyk) but refuses to wear it in public because she’s a pussy

•Favorite fruit is grapes. I just know my girl loves grapes when she can get her hands on them steer clear bc she will NOT share. Favorite candy is gummy worms!

•Actually wears rain boots when it’s wet outside or snowing

•Likes wired earbuds over airpods, listens to Pearl Jam when she misses living with Joel

•Is oddly good at making those little paper stars and has a huge grocery bag of then in all different patterns and colors

•When she starts dating you she shows you her dinosaur cookie-cutter collection because you're really good at baking. (Also bc she wants to see you in a frilly cute apron!)

•Is a slut for hugs. Kisses are cool, sex is great but agghhh Ellie just loves wrapping her arms around you and sometimes when you two are in her dorm she'll just hug you for what feels like hours on end, she calls it her 'weekly therapy.'

•Loves high sex because when she's sober she hates feeling like she's awkward or all up in her head. She also has a tendency to invite you over for sex after smoking.

•Has a septum piercing. Maybe this one is self-indulgent because I would go ballistic over seeing actual Ellie with one, but I say that college Ellie got hers pierced at 16 and didn't cry over the pain but wanted to literally jump off of a bridge the entire healing process it was so bad.

•Sometimes when you kiss her, her septum will slide over and look uneven and she feels fucking NIGERIA FALLS in her boxers when you fix it for her. Also for those of you who are sluts for glasses, you can fix her glasses too and it'll make her just as weak.

[frudoo]

Mountain Man!Price save me… save me…

Warnings: SMUT. Unprotected PIV, creampie ofc y’all know me. Also mentions of guns + hunting deer. Fem!Reader.

MDNI

“You see that one there?” John’s voice is low but not quite a whisper, using his pinky finger to point out a huge buck a couple hundred yards away from where the two of you are planted on the ground.

“Yeah,” You reply softly, keeping a watchful eye on the creature as it takes a drink of water from the creek.

“That’s who we want. Get a dozen meals offa him, easy,” he responds, pulling back from the scope to look back at you with a grin. “Wanna give it a go?”

Your eyes widen and you laugh softly, shaking your head. When you agreed to join him on his hunt, you were under the impression that you’d be acting as moral support, not as an accessory to… deer murder. You’ll cook the meat all day long, but actually killing the poor thing is a far different story.

“Nope, all yours, sugar,” You huff, glancing back at the big buck who was now feasting on a berry bush.

“C’mon, love, ‘fore we miss him,” John insists, lifting his arm and beckoning you closer with a jerk of his head.

You sigh heavily, scrunching your face as the dangling strands on the sleeve of his ghillie suit tickle you. He readjusts the rifle until the heel rests on your shoulder, gently explaining how to rest your head until your eye meets the scope and you can see through it clearly. Suddenly, the tattoos on his biceps make a lot more sense—what you thought were nonsensical spheres and lines are actually a common perspective for your man.

“Yeah, perfect. Don’t let him outta your sight, I’m just gonna…” John trails off, carefully bringing his arm back down and climbing partially on top of you. “Sorry, darlin’, it’s easier for me to show you this way.”

He positions your hand around the grip and your pointer finger on the trigger, then switches off the safety. Once he’s ensured that everything is properly structured, John rests his chin on your shoulder opposite of where the gun is. Your breath hitches in your throat as you try your hardest to keep your attention on the deer, but it’s hard when your husband’s hot breath is blowing against your face and his weight is pressing into you from above.

You try to get back in the zone by adjusting your body, but only succeed in pushing your ass back against his crotch. The low groan that emits from his throat makes you whimper and repeat the action, earning yourself a tut into your ear.

“Focus, baby, or we don’t eat for the next week,” John warns through gritted teeth, desperately holding himself back from grinding up against you.

Biting your lip, you allow your eye to focus on the deer once again, watching him strut to the next bush covered in vibrant red berries. The buck chomps down on a cluster of fruit gracefully, chewing slowly, unaware of the bullet you plan to shoot right into his heart. You suck in a deep breath, slowly start to press down on the trigger, but before you get the chance to fire, a pair of familiar lips attach to your neck hungrily. Your fingers clench out of instinct and the rifle goes off, but instead of hitting its target it buries itself somewhere in the dirt while the buck sprints away to safety.

Gasping, you drop the gun and push it away from you, turning your head back to look at John with furrowed eyebrows. His face is flushed beneath the streaks of green and black paint he had you smear across his skin, eyes wild with the telltale glint of lust.

“John, I had him! Why-”

“Fuck the deer,” He growls, no longer attempting to push down his desires and instead covering your body entirely with his own. “Got my own pretty, wide-eyed doe right here.”

John grasps your throat and tilts your head back so that his mouth can hastily smash against yours. His tongue shoves its way past your lips, tasting your shock, devouring the unspoken questions that dissolved before they got the chance to slip out. You don’t hesitate to kiss back, eyelids falling shut as his big hands glide between your body and the dewy grass to fumble with your cargos. The button snaps a little harsher than it should and you already know you’re gonna need to sew a new one on when you get back to the cabin.

“Fuck, your cunt’s already so damn wet,” John exhales heavily as he pulls your pants and knickers down just past your hips, exposing your ass and the glistening slick that’s collected between your thighs. “My cock’s just gonna slip right in.”

You whine at that, arching your back in invitation. John hisses and smacks one of your asscheeks hard enough to sting his palm. He chuckles at the little squeal you let out before sitting up on his knees and shoving down the pants of his ghillie suit just enough to expose his dick. It’s already throbbing, fully erect and dripping pearls of precum onto your raw skin. He glides the engorged tip through your warm folds before sliding home in one deep thrust.

The two of you shudder in sync as he bottoms out, hitting the barrier of your cervix with a blissful, dull pinch. John wraps one arm around your neck, allowing you to rest your head on his bicep as he holds himself up with his opposite elbow.

“Fuckin’ deep, ain’t it?” He grunts, punctuating each word with a strong pump of his hips.

“So deep,” you confirm with a gurgle, cheeks completely squashed between the fat and muscle of his bicep and forearm. “Feels so good, John.”

“I know it does, my sweet doe.”

Every thrust is devastating, the veins and ridges of his fat cock rubbing perfectly against the sensitive walls of your tight pussy. Raspy groans fall from his lips and echo into your ear as he nibbles on the lobe, the sound of skin on skin ricocheting throughout the busy woods along with your pretty moans. The head of his dick punches against that rough spot that makes you scream, and he chuckles, angling his hips so that he can make you see stars over and over again.

“That’s right, love, scream for me. Let the fuckin’ mockingbirds hear you, so every single soul that comes through here knows how pretty you sound when I make you cum. Yeah, just like that, baby, sing for me, sing for the birds.”

His words encourage you to obey, your cunt clamping down on him like it’s trying to keep his cock inside permanently. Rivulets of slick cream cling to every inch of his dick as he buries his face in your neck, uncaring of how the strands of his ghillie suit brush against your skin, overwhelming your senses. With a final thrust, he pushes himself deep and releases his potent load into your willing womb, spurts of his seed painting your walls an off-white.

Once the two of you have calmed down, breathing evening out, John gently pulls out and shimmies your panties and cargos back up your hips, effectively keeping his cum contained. He moves from on top of you and stands, pulling his own pants up and tucking away his spent cock, then throws the rifle over his back. You’re utterly useless, laying on the grass and mumbling something incoherent. Your lover just chuckles and scoops you up into his arms, carrying you back to the cabin, safe, warm and definitely planning to have leftover soup for dinner once again.

(When he returns to the woods the next day for a successful hunt without your distracting presence, he hears an awfully familiar call from a certain bird in one of the trees.)

[livelaughlovesubs]

For the prompt event just one more from me- Writer's choice Freebee for any character and prompt(s) you want

As a treat

I WANNA WRITE LICKING BOOTS OR HEELS i dont really care which character

Dom!Rich!reader x sub!Broke!male!character

Warning: sadistic reader & masochistic character, sugar baby character, boots/ shoes licking (the soles too), dirt eating, power play, mention of vomit (didn’t happen), stepping, cumming untouched, degration

Anniversary event

He was just so pathetic you couldn’t help it. Really, it made your senses get disoriented whenever you pretty begs you with his tail between his legs, asking for money with an ashamed look across his face. Your sweet little sugar baby was insatiable, wasnt he? The audacity he had, to ask for more when he was already getting a lot— and he knew very well how ungrateful that must sound. That’s why the least he could do is get on his knee while hesitantly pleading with you, not even daring to look you in the eyes.

Gently, you tapped his clothed thighs with the tip of your shoe, staring down at him all amused. He didn’t know, since he wasn’t looking at you, but you enjoyed seeing him embarrass himself whenever he just acts so damn disgraceful. Slowly, you moved your leg upwards. First along his thighs, to his pelvis, ignoring his bulge— then tracing the outlines of his bellybutton, up to his chest and lastly— right below his chin and tilting his face upwards.

“What is it this time?” You questioned coldly, betraying your true emotions. “…I erm, god, c-could I get a little more ca-,,, pocket money?” His words were bitter, he felt uncomfortable muttering such things, be it due to shame or other reasons. “Didn’t you just got it last week?” He was dead silent, so quiet even, that he could hear the tapping of your finger on your knee. “I know- I just, I need it. Just a little bit, it’s not much to you anyway right?” How you adored that little tremble in his voice, he truly was tailored to fit your taste.

You sighed, acting all begrudgingly, “can’t you at least tell me why you need the cash?” Instead of answering, he just pleaded, “please, just a little more, I only need like 2k—!” You interrupted him by tapping his cheek with your shoe, chuckling in disbelief, “hah! A little? Sweetie, you think I’m a tree that grows money?” He was sweating a little, skin glistening under the low-saturated light of the lamp. “It means a lot to me, please… master?”

Would you look at that, now he’s using every trick in the book to try to win you over.

“That’s not enough to convince me~” you ended your sentence with a higher pitch, exposing yourself, giving him hints on what he should do. This was not the first time you’ve played this game with him, so luckily he still remembers your teachings. “I’ll do my best to persuade you then…” he whispered meekly, hands bawled into fists as he rests them on the ground, turning his face around a little to push your shoes to his lips.

With lingering skepticism, he stuck his tongue out, licking a long trail over the front of your footwear. The material was shining with his spit now, all clean and rid of any dust. The male grimaced silently, before swallowing the lump in his throat. You watched with preying eyes and a sadistic smirk, enjoying the show he was putting on for you. Next, he used the tip of his tongue to lick over the sides, trying hard to ignore the straight up awful taste of dirt. He didn’t even want to think about what exactly he was eating, squeezing his eyes shut, doing it with his intuition.

You helped him a little as well, moving your foot up and down to grant him easier access. A pool of arousal building in your stomach as you restrained your desire to be even more mean, to step and to kick him, to make him do even more nasty stuff— all that can wait. For now, you’ll focused on the appetiser.

Once he was done with polishing your shoes with his hot and wet muscle, he gulped down all the filth, pondering over whether or not this was enough. He didn’t need to think a lot, because you answered his confusions for him by pressing soles of your footgear against his face. “You aren’t done yet, pretty boy.” Shivers ran down his spine at the horrors and humiliation, though it turned into perverted lust in the matter of seconds. He had to take a few seconds to prepare himself mentally, but then he stuck his tongue out again.

He brought it across your soles once, licking all across the place. The taste of sand and was seems to be glass plagued his taste buds, and he gaged. Nonetheless, he managed to swallow it, at the price of feeling something coming up as he did. His cheeks darkened into a blush, droplets of sweat rolling down the sides of his forehead. You didn’t say much as you watched him with intense eyes. Even though he wasn’t looking up at you, he could still feel your gaze, and he shook slightly at the thought of that.

Many minutes passed, and the longer this went on, the more he became erect. Was it because of your watching gaze, piercing through his soul? Or was it due to his perverted nature, because he enjoyed the pain and humiliation? It was a question he didn’t want to answer, out of consideration for his remaining pride. The feeling of vomiting was tattering inside him, he felt a little nauseous as well, but he succeeded in pushing through it all, cleaning your shoes with great precision.

Soon, it was as clean as new.

At that point his tongue felt sore, and the sand was crunching between his teeth. Some tears were collecting in the corners of his eyes, all due to the overwhelmingly terrible taste. Finally, you talked again, he was starting to miss your voice, he desperately needed you to guide him through it all, to make him feel better. “Good job, you did so good, good boy.” You reached out to pat his head, stroking through his hair a little.

This gentleness was such a stark contrast to what happened only minuets before, that his entire body was shaken with pleasure. He couldn’t help but whine pathetically, bucking his hard on up against nothing. You didn’t even notice how he got hard, and how his pre was soaking through his pants already. Smiling all content, you pressed down on the tent with your now almost sparkling shoe, commenting, “such a dirty masochist, you enjoyed choking on the filthy that clung to my shoes? I guess that suits mutt like you.”

Again, he whined, bending forwards with his upper body, hands twitching to grab your ankle but he knew better than to act on his impulses. “Hnng.. y-yes.. I’m just a dirty mutt.” God, just look at how big your grin grew. “Well, but I can’t deny you did a great job. Fine I’ll give you 1K.” You then applied more pressure to his bulge, making him arch his back and moan out in blissful, ecstatic pain, “ahh-nHGHHh..!!??”

His eyes rolled to the back of his scull, drool running down his chin. This defiles form of his was more than depraved, it was sinful and degenerate. “To get to 2k… you’ll have to clean it again.” You stated, pressing down even more, causing him to cum into his pants. “HaaAaNNGghh…! Y/nnnNghh ♥︎♡～” He was already so worked up from before, and so sensitive due to your degration, please don’t blame him for cumming so fast…♡

Instead of being mad, you laughed, and brought your now in cum covered shoe to his lips again, tapping his flush lips. “So, get to work, pretty boy.”

He really needed the money after all, so he had no choice but to oblige, right? And it was surely sorely for the money ♥︎

(Edit: don’t ask why I wrote this with Toji in mind, also with the reader being younger [to add more shame], but that’s for you to decide)

[raphael-angele]

Nico's Big Sisters

I have this headcanon that while Bianca is away, the cabins take turns looking after Nico and he gets to stay with them.

Nico, crying: Thaliaaa!!!

Thalia: Nico? What's wrong?

Nico: *incomprehensible babble*

Thalia: Okay, okay, calm down. Tell me what happened

Nico, pointing to some Hermes kids: Tho- Those boys stole Three.

Thalia: *looks over at the Hermes kids tossing around a dog stuffie with three heads*

Nico: I told them to give it back but they wont. And they kept making fun of it

Thalia, rolling up her sleeves: Just a sec

Later:

Thalia with dirt all over her and slightly bloodied fists: Here you go, Nico. *hands over Three*

Nico: YAAAAY! THANK YOU, THALIA!

---

Nico: Reyna...

Reyna: Yes, Nico?

Nico: I fell down the track and I scraped my knee and hands *shows his hands*

Reyna, sees his injuries: Aww, c'mon let's go get them treated.

Dakota: OW! FUCK! REYNA! ONE OF THE HUNTERS JUST SHOT ME ON THE SHOULDER WITH AN ARROW

Reyna: WALK IT OFF!

---

If Zoë lived:

Bianca: Zoë

Zoë: Bianca, hello.

Bianca: You remember my little brother, Nico.

Zoë: Oh, yes, of course. Nice to see you again, little one

Nico, standing next to Bianca: *shyly waves*

Bianca: Nico made something for you. *whispers to Nico* come on, you can give it to her.

Nico, slowly approaches her: *hands over a jar of paper stars*

Zoë: *takes jar of paper stars*

Nico: Thank you for looking after my sister

Zoë: Well, you're very welcome, Nico. This is a very beautiful gift.

---

Nico, entering the Aphrodite Cabin: Piper...

Piper: Hm? Oh, hey, Nico. What's up?

Nico, shyly whispers to her: Can you make me look pretty?

Piper: Why do you want me to make you look pretty?

Nico, fidgeting with his fingers: Will asked me out on a date

Piper and almost all of the Aphrodite Cabin: *gasp*

Piper: Alright girls, we got a code Apollo! Let's move! Move! Move! Let's get this baby ready for his first date!

---

Annabeth: Alright. C'mon, Nico. Time for bed

Nico: Aw, okay. *climbs into bed*

Annabeth, sitting beside him: What story do you want me to read to you today?

Nico: We haven't finished the one about the big cat, the mean old lady, and the box yet.

Annabeth: ...you mean The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe?

Nico: Mhm. We stopped when Edmund went to the mean old lady's castle.

Annabeth: Ah! Then The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe it is!

---

Nico: Rachel!

Rachel: Oh, hey, Nico. Did you need something?

Nico: No, not really. I was making something and Percy said that you might like it. *hands over a box*

Rachel: *takes box and opens it* What is it?

Nico: It's paint! The Demeter kids let me plant sometimes in their garden and I get the flowers and I made them into paint!

Rachel:

Nico: See? The blue one is from Morning Glory flowers, the red one is made from Roses, the yellow one is made out of Marigolds, the orange one is made from Poppies, the purple one is made from the Lilacs, and the green one I made from Leaves!

Rachel:

Nico: :D Do you like it?

Rachel: This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever given me ༼☯﹏☯༽

---

Mark, training Nico: Alright. Here's what's gonna happen. You want a candy bar?

Nico: *nods*

Mark: It's on that table over there. *points to table behind him* To get it, you need to get past me first.

Nico:

Mark: Now, I'm bigger than you. So you need to be smart and think of how-

Nico: *punches Mark in the groin, and pushes him to the side, then goes over to the candy bar*

Mark, on the floor, clutching his groin: Oh, good gods!

Nico, can't open the candy bar: *goes over to Clarisse and shows her the candy bar* Open, please

Clarisse:

Nico: (´｡• ◡ •｡`)

Later during Capture the Flag:

Clarisse: Alright, listen up! If anyone wants to mess with this kid, know that he is under my protection. You wanna mess with him, you go through me first!

Nico: *holding Clarisse's hand, eating a candy bar*

[sexilene]

Hi angel! thoughts on 80s!slasher!jj ?? I loveee ur work btw! sending hugs and kisses! 💗

ofccc!! this is fun lol - 80s!slasher!jj

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, violence, jealous!jj, death, slight breeding kink, threats, obsessed!jj, dark!jj - ₊˚⊹

you and jj would have never become friends if you both hadn't met while working together at the little fast-food diner inside the mall. he was usually working in the back, preparing the food, and you were usually on server duty. with your short white tennis skirt and the diner polo shirt uniform you could usually draw attention from guys who wanna take you out and possibly eat you, you were so sweet. but there were days when you and jj would both be on cashier duty, those were his and your favorite days, it was basically like hanging out all day side by side.

as the day dragged on it was getting closer to closing time, thank goodness you thought, already super exhausted. after a few minutes a group of preppy jerk jocks come in, one of the guys walking up to your register with a stupid smirk on his face, danny. "hey babygirl, can i get uh, the number 5 with a milkshake anduh- your number? " he tilts his head up, proud of his little pickup line. you shake your head with a small smile and silently scoff at his stupidity. jj who is currently helping another customer, listens in and watches the interaction by side eyeing you both every few seconds. jj's jaw ticks as he tries to let you handle it. 

"a number 5 will that be all?" you continue to try and be professional with a sweet smile. 

"uh no actually, how about- you let me take you to the prom," he smirks again.

"i'm actually out of town that day so-" you tilt your head and act uninterested. 

"oh cuhmon- it'll be fun, you know you want to. i even booked a hotel room for that night and we'll-" danny persists further until he's interrupted by jj who snaps his head toward us. 

"she said no man." jj warns, danny's mouth agape as he turns over to look at jj. 

"was i talking to you maybank? cuz uh- i don't think i was." danny snickers almost trying to size jj up. 

"i don't give a shit, she's clearly not interested." jj squints his eyes and nods to himself. 

"oh woah! you've got yourself a little protector huh? no way this guy is your boyfriend right?" the guy turns to you and then back to jj. "i mean look at you! she's a total betty and you...you and your deadbeat dad aren't even good enough to scrape the dirt off our shoes." the boy scoffs and the rest of his friends snicker on cue.

jj tongues his cheek and grins in faux amusement, the guy turns around to walk off like a winner when jj reaches his arm out and taps the guy's shoulder. "hey man you forgot your-" jj grabs one of the milkshakes ready on the counter and throws it in the asshole's face, 'ruining' danny's gelled hair and expensive polo shirt. the diner fills with gasps, 'ooohs' and snickers.

"milkshake." jj finishes his sentence, and laughes through his nose. you stand there eyes wide as danny wipes the melted pink milk off his eyelids. "quit fuckin' around and get outta here" jj shoos the guy away with the motion of his hand as the humiliated boy walks away shouting back loudly "you are so dead maybank!" 

"whata piece of shit." jj mumbles and slams his hand on the counter and turns to see the manager shaking his head, disappointed. jj goes into the kitchen leaving you there to process what just happened. 

as the restaurant was about to close, you and jj were the only ones left, since you would have been closing together that night. the manager did fire him but somehow managed to stick around without him seeing jj.

you decided to let him do this thing inside the kitchen while you did the final table wipe-downs and setting up everything for tomorrow morning, time after time playing in the background. you hear some concerning noises coming from the kitchen area, knowing only jj was in there makes you stop and wonder why all the banging?, when another loud scary sound can be heard throughout the diner. you run behind the counter and around the corner to see what was making that noise, your eyes land on danny, dead, laying flat on his back on the floor with his face all burnt, bubbling, and bloody. you let out a horrified scream and cover your mouth immediately afterward, stumbling backward a bit and feeling nauseous. 'how did danny even end up back here?' you thought.

you feel your back bump into something, and you let out another spooked yelp, you feel two strong hands spin you around and when you look up, you realize it's only jj. 

"jj, danny...he must have- the deep fryer-" you stutter, and he shushes you "i know, i know."

"we have to call the police! i-is he dead? oh god, i'm gonna be sick..." tears start to fall down your cheeks, terrified and confused by how jj isn't freaking out or doing anything about it. you squirm out of his grip and back away from him.

"jj? did you hurt danny? oh my god, did you burn his face off?" you ask with wide eyes, chest heaving. 

jj��nods but he doesn't look remorseful. you start to burst out in tears, unsure of what to do, you look over at the door and back over at jj who gives you a look of warning. he's all sweaty and dirty, his white shirt stained with grease and blood. 

the jukebox continues to play music, where otherwise silence would fill the diner. you decide to make a run for the door, but he beats you to that. jj manages to stand in front of you, clenching his jaw and squinting his eyes. 

"i did that for you, i did it to protect you." he spits, looking down at you in disappointment. 

"you're scaring me jj" you whine.

"why? i think you're being ungrateful." he whispers, looking down at you.

"you murdered him! jj you'll get in so much trouble, they'll know you did it!"

"no, manager man thought i left already..and i'll get him outta here so" he shrugs.

you whine again, eyes moving towards where danny was lying on the ground. jj snaps his fingers in front of your face to get you to pay attention to him again. 

"what you want him? you liked that guy? huh?" he spits out frustratedly. you shake your head no, now too afraid to even speak "what so now im the bad guy? cause i got rid of him for YOU!" he shouts and you flinch, unsure of what to do now. 

"you know what, fine, i think i deserve a little thank you don't you think?" he clenches his jaw again and yanks at your top pulling you to the other side of the counter, overlooking danny's corpse. 

he bends you over and yanks your skirt down, you begin to cry when you realize what he's going to do. "no, jj no, i'm scared please" you sob too frozen in fear to move. 

"you should see what i did with the rest of the bodies" he laughs quietly and reaches his hand around your waist to meanly grab your poor cunt, then pulling your panties to the side. you look down at the bloody dead body again and shut your eyes tight, then you feel jj's fat tip teasing your hole, sliding in your stickiness. "no, you are supposed to be my friend jj! friends don't do this!" you mewl.

he wraps his arm around your neck, trapping you in a headlock when he starts to push in to keep you from thrashing around. "shush, s'fine see? s'fine drama queen." he grunts in your ear, starting to slowly thrust in and out. 

part of you wishes you had the strength to kick him off of you, but the other half is in heaven. "look at danny, you want him? wanna go to the prom with that? hmm?" he taunts, squeezing you tighter in the headlock with his beefy arms when you don't respond which makes you let out a whimpery moan. 

"no! no, i don't wanna keep looking at him! it's making me sick!" you cry.

"i know, i know...grossing you out kinda turns me on though," he grunts again and laughs. he spits in his hand and uses that to sloppily rub your clit. the feeling of his spit mixed with your wetness makes you whine.

he keeps on pounding your pussy, letting you out of the headlock, and pushing your tits to press against the countertop. he smiles at all the little 'uh-uh's' you let out with each thrust. 

"you feel better? yeah? you calm now?" he hums and brings his hand down to smack your ass causing you to squeal and push your ass out almost asking for more. 

"yeah, i know mama, nobody's ever gonna touch you again kay?" his voice soft, making you nod slowly and dazed. 

"say thank you and i'll let you cum." he pressures you, so close to spilling all over him. 

"mmnnm jay-"

"use your manners c'mon" he cuts you off and brings his hand down again to start to rub your clit faster.

"thank you jayjay, thank you-" your cunt pulsing around his dick as you cum hard.

"atta girl, atta girl" he praises, then pushes into you harder than before, filling you up, and pulling out. he tucks himself away and moves your panties back to cover your cunt and to keep his cum and yours pooled in them. he pats your covered pussy and lets out a satisfied hum. 

"go wait by the mall entrance n i'll take you home, jus' gonna get ridda this guy." he pats your ass and walks over to get rid of the bloody body.  ᥫ᭡

[fuctacles]

<< 9 | 0 | 11 >>

Eddie doesn't believe dreams have meaning. He believes your brain simply relaxes after a day of working, letting everything it saw and thought run freely and stick into weird, meaningless shapes. 

But that morning, he woke up with a whine.

He's dreamt of Steve's puppy dog eyes looking up against his chest. He's dreamt of grocery aisles navigated with a leash in hand. He's dreamt of fur and skin and eating at the table, him from a plate, and Steve from a dog bowl. 

And it made his sad heart constrict and ache. No matter how much he's been dragging Steve around to see their friends and to prepare for their little party, he still has been off and distant. Eddie was missing something, and Steve wouldn't tell him what it was. 

The party is this weekend, and today he's helping Steve prepare the backyard. It's the last moment to coax it out of him. Gently. And preferably without him noticing. 

It's a weird thing to take note of and enjoy, but Eddie still does—carrying a barbecue out of a shed is something only humans could do, and he's elated to be able to do it with Steve. He pats his hands against his jeans, dusting them off leftover dirt and ash.

"Good job!" he says with a grin and reaches out towards Steve. It works, his friend ducking his head with a smile to accept a quick scratch against his scalp. Eddie feels proud of himself more than he ever did for passing an exam. He's tip-toeing the line between Steve's two forms, with full intent to breach it soon, and he's eating out of his hand. 

Huh.

Maybe he should try that at some point, too.

They find another barbecue, smaller than the last one, and bring it out as well, and after a short break, they start cleaning. While pulling out lawn chairs from the pool shed, Eddie finds some old toys. And among them, a tennis ball. A golden opportunity Eddie is unable to pass. He runs outside, where Steve is cleaning the pool.

"Catch!" It's all the warning he gives before throwing the ball at him.

Steve turns to him and his eyes widen joyfully when he spots the ball. He hesitates for a millisecond too long, but still manages to catch it, the net he's been using to fish out leaves falling to the ground. He throws the toy from one hand to another, almost transfixed, before looking up.

"Since when do you like throwing balls around?" he asks, cocking his head. 

"Since I have a dog to play with." Eddie grins at him. "Wanna play fetch?"

Steve's arms fall and Eddie thinks he might have overstepped this time. That's it, their tentative friendship is gone. Who's going to hug Steve now?

"You're joking."

"Try me." Eddie lifts his chin, digging his grave deeper. 

Steve shuffles his weight from one leg to another, the ball in his hand moving hypnotizingly. 

"Are you going to make fun of me?" he asks, looking up all blasé like it wouldn't hurt him. For now, it's only hurting Eddie that he could think of him like that.

"Of course not," he protests. "I just thought it could be fun. I'm sorry if it's like, overstepping or something." He raises his shoulders in a defensive shrug. Steve considers him for a moment. 

"It could be fun," he admits eventually, before throwing the ball straight at Eddie's chest. He scrambles to catch it, so he completely misses the moment Steve shifts. When he looks up, he sees the dog already shaking out from the polo Steve has just been wearing. 

Relieved, Eddie raises his hand, Steve's muscles tensing in anticipation, and when he throws, it's like a spring let loose, flying after the ball. He grins, and he can see the same delight in Steve's eyes when he proudly brings the toy back. 

"Good boy," Eddie praises him after he gets the slightly damp ball back in his hand. But he can feel Steve tensing under his hand when he scratches his head. He frowns. "You don't like that?"

He shakes his head, and Eddie presses his lips together.

"No, you don't, or no, you do like it?"

Despite the dog's limited expression, he can sense the exasperation as they stare at each other. 

"Okay, uh, do you want to be called a good boy?" he clears up his question. 

Steve hesitates but nods. 

"Okay, you got it." Eddie smiles, giving him another scratch before throwing the ball again. He watches Steve dive between the untamed bushes that surround the backyard. As the dog struts back, he forms his next question but waits till the ball is back in his grasp before he asks it. 

"Do you want to be called a good boy when you shift back?"

Steve stares at him.

Eddie stares back.

It's a tiny thing, easy to miss, but Steve nods. Eddie smiles at him. 

"You got it, Stevie," he says, reaching to give him more scratches. "So good, telling me what you need. All you gotta do is ask, okay? Don't be shy, man. We're friends. "

Impulsively, he leans in to plant a kiss on the slope of his furry snout. He throws the ball again.

So Steve needs some praise and reassurances? He can do that. 

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot

@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86 @ollyxar

[buggybambi]

Cannot wait to read your Carmen cowboy fanfic!!

save a horse, ride your cowboy | carmen berzatto (18+ content ahead) description; joining the meads ranch wasn’t always your plan. neither was falling for the handsome cowboy there. (wc: 2.45k)

cw: nsfw content (see warnings below) - reader's age is not said but is over 18, y/n used, afab!reader with she/her pronouns used

content warnings: slow burn (this is a long fanfic, sue me), i guess kinda public sex? i mean its in a bedroom and there’s no one hearing them but like shh, this fanfic took me like five months to write (not a joke) and if it sucks or some parts are unclear um blame it on that!, um i didnt write this as filthy as i wanted to but still; finger reader (x2), reader riding carmen (per the title), timeskip (a year prior to a year later), afab!reader, non-descript!reader but if there is something that i should change lmk, carmen eating reader out, hookup plot i guess?? friends to lovers sort of? idk really, unprotected sex (filthy) nav post | inbox | more of mae writes: the bear 🐻

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐆𝐎 . . .

From a distance, the Meads Ranch had seemed like a small glimpse of heaven on earth.

Cattle roamed the fields while the sun was beginning to rise, pickup trucks being driven off of the ranch and leaving trails of dirt behind them. Pieces of hay are scattered around everywhere you walk.

Carmen had first noticed you when you came out of the main Mitchell family lodge. The property had similar lodges, but that was the one used for most of the family, and the oldest lodge on the land.

You had been brought to the ranch as a chance from an old family friend. Almost like you’re second chance at life.

Gavin Mitchell, the oldest son, walked out of the house with you by his side. You two, laughing and talking. "I'm so glad you are joining us, and- oh! Carmen." Gavin walks over to Carmen, his arm resting on the cattle fence Carmen had spent the past few days repairing. "This is Y/N. You are going to train her on ranch life."

"Yes, sir." Carmen nods. You could tell by the tone in his voice he either wasn't happy about training you, or he'd done it so many times before it felt exhausting.

Gavin leaves you two alone. You smile, holding your hand out. "Hi, I'm-"

"Pick that pair of pliers up and get to work." He states.

Huh. Definetly taking the cold shoulder approach.

──

Much to your surprise, you and Carmen got over the cold approach. He’d become somewhat more open with you within the first month of your time on the ranch.

It wasn’t a fast thing. The opposite, actually. It took him a day to learn your name instead of saying ‘you’ when he needed something from you. It took him a week to start conversations with you, instead of you starting them with him.

Now a month later. He had been told by the other handlers on the ranch they were going out, and Carmen was expected to go with them. But not without-

“You wanna go to the bar with me?” He’d blurted out to you while you and him were working in one of the barns. It caught you off guard, so much so you took a minute to register it was him speaking to you and not his usual muttering to himself.

You turned and looked at him, letting out a soft chuckle. “Um.. you’re going to a bar?” You question first. Carmen hadn’t made it a secret he hated the bars in town. Too many tourists, people ruining good songs during karaoke.

“Well- the other handlers are but the dumbasses can’t be trusted to handle themselves, so.. I wanted to know if you wanted to come.” Carmen says, as he continued focusing on his work, almost using that as a distraction from having to make eye contact with you.

“Sure, I’ll come.” You had agreed. To Carmen’s pure surprise, you had said yes. And not a pity yes, or at least not an obvious one.

Needless to say, you being there made it actually enjoyable. Carmen wasn’t a drinker, and neither were you. It was one of the few things you two had in common, or that you knew you had in common.

You and him had found a somewhat secluded table in the bar, talking all night. He found himself asking questions about you, and he heard your laugh.

God. That laugh. He was sure if heaven had a sound attached to it, it would be that.

And eventually, you and him managed to wrangle all your guys into a truck with the ranch’s logo on the side, and managed to get yourselves back to the ranch.

Walking down a dirt path that lead to the handler house, it was just you and Carmen. His hands remained in the front pockets of his jeans. “I uh, had a really good time tonight.” He says. It was like admitting he liked being around you, without so many words.

“I did too, Carmen.” You say back as you walk onto the front porch with him right behind you. You stand there, making eye contact with him, both of you silent.

And that night, you and him almost kissed on the porch. *Almost.* Had it not been for one of the other handlers, Lee, throwing open the door to ask you two if you had any idea where his car keys were, you were sure you would have kissed him.

Another kiss for another time, you supposed.

──

And that kiss had come at another time. It was almost a week later when you and him found yourselves alone again in the barn. Somehow you and him always ended up in a barn.

You hadn’t been expecting it. Ever since the barn, it was like Carmen had made an effort to talk to you. Asking about your life before the ranch, telling you about his in return. He told you about his hopes, his family. And he’d make a point to stand close to you as he spoke to you.

Maybe he thought you didn’t notice the way he’d look at you out of the corner of your eye. A look that made it seem like he was asking himself if being this close to you was a good idea, and he’d decided it was.

It was silent for a pause before you decided to speak again. “You’re standing awfully close right now.” You comment. But your tone didn’t show you were upset by it, rather intrigued.

“Do you want me to back up?” He asks, his voice low. You turn to look at him, and that’s when you realize how close he actually is. His face close to yours.

You swallow before you speak. “No.” You answer, trying to keep your voice steady. You fail, but he wouldn’t tell you that.

He took a small step closer. A step that made a huge difference, because now he was looking at your lips. You decide to ask the question this time. “Do you want to kiss me?” You question.

He takes in a breath, before he decides to answer. “Yeah.” He says, as his eyes meet your again like he’s waiting for your approval. And you nod.

Go ahead. Your eyes were telling him. Kiss me.

And he did. His lips met yours in a sweep, his hands cupping your cheeks instantly. It’s soft at first, as he takes his time getting used to kissing you. And once he’s adjusted, he presses you up against the wall.

After you two had a makeout session like a couple of pathetic teenagers, he grabbed your hand and practically ran with you into the handler house. He had brought you into his bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you both.

From there, it was a switching pattern of throwing off clothes. His shirt, your shirt. His jeans, your jeans. Him laying you back as he takes your panties off and then gently placing kisses up your thigh. His eyes met yours as if silently asking for approval. You nod, desperate for him to just keep kissing up, and up, and-

He does. He kissed up your thigh, his lips finding on and sucking on your desperate clit. Your hands immediately fly to his head, fingers grasping at curls. The action elicits a guttural groan from Carmen, which practically vibrates through you as he eats you like a man starved.

His tongue is replaced by his fingers, thrusting in and out of you at a torture of a pace, his lips kissing and sucking on your glistening clit. His fingers are soaked, and he couldn’t care less. All he cares about is feeling you, not about the mess it makes.

Carmen was a simple man. He could get off on eating you out. The gasps and moans were enough to make him feel like he would just mess up his pants right then and there. And he almost does.

But can you blame him? You look so pretty like this. His nose bumping your clit as he watches his fingers slide in and out of you, the squelch noise it produces being more heavingly than it should be. Your soft pleas of “more” and “please” make him grin, and you can feel that cocky smile against your clit as he places a few feathery kisses on it.

He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers. Each time he removes them, he can feel you trying to keep them in, to surround them with yourself. He doesn’t mind though. The action only turns him on more.

“So pretty like this.” You can barely hear him mumble. You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or your pussy. “Such a good girl f’me.”

And by the time you’re actually cumming on his fingers, he’s grinning like the cat from Alice in Wonderland. He watches as you fall apart on his fingers, and he has to resist the urge to lick your climax off of his hands.

He has to take his time with you.

“You did so good, baby.” He says, the pet name slipping out before he can stop it. You’re not complaining though. He presses kisses all over your face. On your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw as he praises you. “Did so good.”

Yeah. No way to ignore what was clearly happening between you both.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘 . . .

The golden lights hitting your face from the small cabin you and the other handlers lived in. Your room was at the end of a hallway, and you could hear the chaos of the other handlers starting in the kitchen below your room.

A small groan comes from beside you as you go to pull yourself out of bed. Carmen’s arms hug your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Do we really have to get up now?” Carmen may have been the ranches best handler, but that didn’t mean he was happy about the early hours.

“Afraid so, cowboy.” You turn, facing him. His arms stay planted where they are around your waist as he buries his face into your neck. He smells like cedarwood and apple, his aftershave smell still lingering as you place a few light kisses on his cheek.

“Mm. Call me cowboy again, shit’s sexy.” He requests as he places feathery kisses on your collarbone. You let out a soft laugh as his beard stubble scratches your cheek.

“You just don’t wanna go down there so they can celebrate your five years here.” You point out in a whispered voice as your hand scratches as his scalp, fingers running through morning curls.

“Makes me feel old.” He replies, his voice gruff as he climbs on top of you, placing kisses up your collarbone and on your neck as his arms wrap around your waist, arms wrapped around you. “Would rather celebrate with you instead.”

You weren’t complaining to that idea. You let him slide your pajama shorts down your legs, throwing them off some place. Lucky for him, you “forgot” your panties the night before.

Unlucky for him, cause he had a habit of tossing them aside and then keeping them.

He kissed at your neck as his hand teased you, fingers lightly trailing up your thigh. Getting closer to where you so badly wanted him- and he could tell. He could feel how soaked you were. Normally, he’d take his time. Tease you about it. But that idea was pushed out of his mind when he was desperate to feel you fall apart on his fingers.

He gently coaxed one finger past your folds. He could hear the strangled gasp that came out of you when he finally inserted a digit into you, and he fucking loved it. He would listen to that sound over and over again if he could.

He let his finger thrust in and out of you, letting you enjoy the feeling before he added a second. You were practically a goner by the point he’d inserted his first finger, but with the second? Oh, you were practically a mess.

And then his thumb rubbed soft circles on your clit, with him whispering praises in your ear? For sure, you were a goner.

He had to cover your mouth with his hand as you reached your climax. The other handlers were still downstairs, and he didn’t need them hearing you. Your moans, your failed attempts to beg for more were his to hear. Not someone else’s.

He pressed kisses to your jaw as you caught your breath. His rule of never properly, in his words, fucking you before you had at least one orgasm was proving to be very beneficial for you.

He lets you recover as he kisses you. Lets you catch your breath before he’s subtly pulling you on top of him as his tongue slides into your mouth with such ease.

“This is your big day. Pretty sure we should be celebrating you.” You murmur between kisses. He grins as you straddle him.

They have a saying in a world like yours. Save a horse. Ride a cowboy.

So, you do! You pull away from his lips as you place kisses down his jaw, whilst your free hand reaches and lowers his boxers. Ever so subtly lowering yourself onto him.

Carmen wasn’t an idiot. He could tell what you had been doing, but he wasn’t gonna stop you. Not when you looked too damn good riding him.

You kept your movements steady, at a pace you knew he’d speed up soon. His hands remained on your hips as he watched you. When your lips return to his neck, he feels like a mess. His mind is fuzzy, he can’t form a single thought besides the word “more”.

Now he was the one moaning under you. You knew how to drive him crazy, and you were doing it.

And how could he not? You took him so well. He stretched you out perfectly, hit the right spots. If he could stay buried inside of you all day, he probably would.

As soon as his hands began grasping your hips and the skin there, you knew to speed up, and you complied. He threw his head back, holding you so tight you knew he’d leave a bruise.

And by the time he spills inside of you, you’re sure he has. You don’t take long to follow right after him.

“Okay—” He says breathlessly after that potentially earth shattering climax. “Next time we do that, I am totally having you wear my hat.”

That elicits a giggle out of both of you.

[jade-len]

i think it'd be funny if someone transmigrated as xin mo. the goddamn evil sword. instead of taking it seriously, they just really fucked around with bingge. and, somehow, ended up having the opposite effect of what it's supposedly rumored to do.

picture this: bingge, on the quest for revenge and power, comes across the almighty xin mo. this demonic sword killed everyone that dared to even try wielding it. and, the few who were lucky enough to have it by their side, eventually succumbed to the swords' will.

it is said that the sword is unlike any other, that it etches into your head and eats away your brain, until eventually it consumes you whole. it whispers, speaking in lust, greed, and hatred. it slowly beckons the wielder into giving in to the worst part of themselves and feeds off of pure sin. but to him, it is no matter; luo bingge will surely tame it.

and then he gets to the sword.

demonic qi practically oozes from xin mo. the aura surrounding it makes every part of luo bingge scream, "run; get away, away from that monster." his gut prods at him, begging bingge that this is probably a really bad idea. it's a little terrifying, how even luo bingge, the determined, vengeful demon, is now getting second thoughts about wielding xin mo from just being in its presence alone.

but luo bingge is too, a monster. so he ignores the screams of plea; pushing every thought of doubt in the back of his head, and tightly grips onto the handle. the world around him seems to spin and shake, tumble and crack, from the amount of force bingge needs to use in order to pull the sword of sin out of its place.

when bingge finally has it perfectly fit into the palms of his calloused hands, he hears whispering. he knows that the sword has accepted him as its new host.

the sword's language crawls up to him, as if it were feeling around his body and mind. checking every nook and cranny for it to settle into bingge's form, truly becoming one with the embodiment of sin. the words flow through his brain like a tragically broken guqin, a melody that holds him in a frighteningly familiar trance - all while simultaneously eating away at his brain in the worst ways possible, akin to a child and their favorite snack. it seems to beckon something, but even with luo bingge's impressive hearing, he cannot make out any words from the tone-deaf musical notes xin mo sings.

and then, it is clear. the land around him settles, and everything is still. xin mo itself seems to be.. content. at least, that is what luo bingge believes.

the language of this wretched sword reflects the state around these two monsters.

luo bingge expects it to demand for bloodshed, for the erotic ecstasy of multiple women, for bingge to steal the last of the finest gems of these horrible, vast lands.

instead, he hears this:

"yoooo damn that shit was crazy. did you see what i did there? man, you know, it feels so fucking good to get out of the dirt. hey, do you know if people can like, feed their swords or something? i'm kinda craving something spicy. we never know, in this wack world! wait, don't hold me like that, buddy. it'll make things real awkward."

but luo bingge is determined to get his revenge, so he puts up with the swords' constant rambling about.. whatever the hell it's thinking.

"wait, dude, did you seriously fuck a dying girl? that's wild. yeah, like i know she was dying but it doesn't sound like you wanted it. yo, listen to me, consent is very sexy."

"HAHA hey, dude, sir, man. you wanna play some 'i spy'? we don't have anything else to do. no? too bad, we're playing it. i spy a loser who doesn't wanna play i spy. hint: he's holding me right now."

"okay i know i'm supposed to be this super evil sword and beg to be used - woah that sounded real wrong - but can you at least clean me when you're done killing shit? if you don't, i'm gonna refuse to respond to you and you'll look like a dumbass trying to wield me."

"i can't hear you lalalalalalala you're not being very it girl right now lallalalaalalalla-"

somehow, this is worse than if xin mo was actually eating away at his brain.

weirdly enough though, as luo bingge starts spending more time with this weird ass, seemingly possessed sword, it starts to become more of a.. comfort to have it by his side than pure annoyance. he finds himself responding to it more, like, actually having full on conversations with it. it puts him at ease, wielding xin mo. the hatred doesn't consume him, instead, it seems to soothe the burning rage (and, admittedly, just replace it with small irritation) that holds onto his darkened heart.

xin mo is actually quite kind and caring, for a sword that's supposed represent and be the literal embodiment of sin. sure, it is a hassle to have it cooperate with him sometimes, and it does just ramble on and on about the most random things ever, not giving a single shit if bingge was in the middle of sleeping with maidens and slaying those who get in his way. for the first time, bingge feels so comfortable around something.

it's.. odd. what was supposed to be the turning point in his life, a big step in his plan for revenge, is now something akin to an... acquaintance. not like mobei-jun, or any of the women he's come across, but an actual, dare he say, friend.

sometimes, he finds himself thinking all of this delusional. is this what people were driven mad by? perhaps they simply could not handle dealing with a talking sword. he understands that xin mo was undoubtedly unbearable to be around at the beginning of their alliance, but it has never actually beckoned for blood, power, and sex. if anything, it does the opposite.

maybe he's the delusional one. maybe this is xin mo's way of getting to him.

maybe, xin mo should be considered a thing. the thought feels terribly laughable, as if he were witnessing a person horribly explain themselves. it also makes his teeth grind together in pure agitation.

"hey, you know, you didn't deserve any of the things they did. it wasn't your fault, binghe. the fact that you're half heavenly demon doesn't make you a monster, or any of that wild stuff.. uh, i'm here for you, okay? i know you don't really like talking about all of this or opening up, but i just want you to know that you can.. talk about it. it's not like i can tell anyone else, anyways.

hey- shit i didn't mean to make you cry! wait, wait it's okay to cry! you need to let it out anyways, i promise it doesn't make you weak. there, there. i don't have any hands, so me patting you on the head with my handle will have to do. there, there.. everything will be alright, you'll be okay. i'll be here every step of the way, even if you want to get rid of me."

xin mo, the demonic sword, is more of a person - a good person - than anyone he'd ever come across.

...and then bingge and the xin mo transmigrator become besties or he falls for the damn sword. knowing him, he probably doesn't even know the difference between platonic and romantic attraction anyways. maybe bingge gets a plant body for xin mo using airplane's wack writing. idk i typed all of this down in one sitting.

(plot twist: it's not that the transmigrator xin mo had the opposite effect, it was literally just a placebo effect. luo bingge thought that, and thus it actually did help him lmao)

[megumiluvv]

Choso enjoys his nights when it’s just him and Yuji. They’re eating dinner and Yuji makes a mess of his face and tries to make Choso laugh. Choso, of course, laughs at how cute his little brother is.

Choso sits in the bathtub with Yuji, washing his pink hair as the boy talks about any little thing he can.

“Megumi wants to be a veteran! The people that work with animals!”

“ Veterinarian?”

“Yeah! He’s got two dogs that are still puppies and they’re huge!”

“I’ve seen them before, they’re still puppies?”

“Yeah!”

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“I wanna be a firefighter! I’ll get super strong and save a bunch of people!”

“A firefighter?”

“Yup! I wanna drive a fire truck!”

Choso chuckles and dries the boy off, helping him into pajamas and changing into his own nighttime wear. Yuji giggles and reaches for his brother’s tattooed nose.

“You have some dirt!” Yuji smiles and tries to smudge off the ink.

“Yuji, this is my tattoo!” Choso laughs.

“Noooo, it’s dirt!” Yuji giggles.

“Oh, come on, it’s been here your whole life, Yuji.”

“Permanent dirt!”

“That’s not how dirt works!” Choso laughs. He picks his little brother up and walks over to the living room to watch a movie.

Of course, The Lion King, Yuji’s favorite movie is put on, and he falls asleep after Hakuna Matata plays. Choso finishes the movie anyways, holding his sleeping brother close and rubbing his back.

Once the movie is over, Choso tucks Yuji in and carefully shuts the door. He goes to bed and sets an alarm to get ready for work and let you into the apartment. He loves his little brother.

(This chosoweek art has inspired me)

Taglist: @samaraxmorgan @cherriee-ee @auor4 @chaotic-ish @meowsannie

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Wanna help a by-and-for transfem journal?

Wanna get involved?

Thank you everyone for your interest so far! If you have a sec, I’ve written a quick post about a few ways you can help. 

Lili Elbe, painted by Szív királynő, serving “journal reader” realness Do you have trans female mates?

Let your girl friends know. Share it amongst your networks. 

Can you read? 

Wonderful. Subscribe to this substack to be notified when an issue is released. 

Can you think?

If you’re a trans woman and you have feelings about something, send it to us. If you’re developing an idea, come chat with us over email (or arrange a phone call) and let’s figure it out together. 

Do you sell books and zines? 

Wonderful. Email me. Stock it. Perfect. I can also send you a poster version of our invitation to submit to print out. 

Have you written?

If you’re a trans woman who writes about things relevant to our lives, send it to me. If it is online and you worry that it won’t stay up forever, it’s affecting your job and life prospects, or that it is a reflection of its time and not 100% wise anymore, send it to me and get it archived. Archiving is part of the goal here. We’re not uncurated, but that doesn’t mean you should shrug and let the internet, time, transmisogyny and linkrot eat your hard work. 

If you’re a trans woman with jobs and obligations and you don’t like having your essay ‘Why dickgirls should commit more assassinations’ or ‘transgender materialism: towards a de/coterminous understanding of post tipping point transmisogyny’ or whatever attached to your name then send it to me and get it re/published under a pseudonym.

If we get a large number of submissions like this we will publish it as a separate supplement, but else it will come as a section within WBM.

Do you know grants?

Rates for unfunded zines and pamphlets suck. We want to pay the women well. Let us know if you know of funds or grants you think we fall under. We’ll be sending off applications. 

Can you help us host a launch party in a major city?

We envision low-cost evening events with discussion, trans women, and piles and piles of essays to talk about. (Can we crash on your couch?) We’re based in the UK, but are happy to come anywhere Ryanair goes where there’s a willing audience. 

Got an idea I don’t have? 

Ultimately, I want to keep this dirt simple. Essays come in, paper goes out. No columns, shite graphics. Couple core editors. Schedules loose enough to spend half the year depressed and still get it out. Stolen printer paper. Something that won’t collapse after two years. Posterity. 

That said, if you have an idea (and maybe if you want to do it), email us. Think you know enough people to get this translated and shipped somewhere else? Can you translate and know of a non-English language transfeminist text that’s not got much attention in the anglosphere? Maybe we can submit an application for a grant and distribute your translation? Understand distribution better than me? Do you have the wherewithal to manage a personals board? Something else? Anything except an agony aunt section. I’ve called dibs on that one. 

Do you have agonies? Issues? Want bad advice?

Write to the agony aunt. writingbadlymag snail symbol gmail dot com.

Do you have something to say which won't make a whole essay but is still worth saying?

Write a letter to the editor. Same email.

Addendum: Can you help us set up a website?

Websites we think are beautiful are dirt simple. Low-tech Magazine has a beautiful low-energy website. Filmmaker Margot McEwan has a lovely fitting website. Any thoughts or suggestions should be sent to the same email.

(update: we're all set now! Check out badly.press!)

See a good stack cutter?

If you see a cheap paper stack cutter for cheap, let me know. :)

Thanks all!

Forthcoming posts: information for writers, extracts from the issue.

[doki-doki-imagines]

I loved your post about the boys mk1 x pregnant reader.

I had an idea with that :D

The reader has strange food cravings. She offers the Lin Kuei and Shang Tsung trio whatever she is eating and they accept so as not to make her feel bad.Ignore this if you don't want to <3

Bi-Han: -Okay, he woke up in the middle of the night to make you boiled cauliflower with ketchup. -Bi-Han knows that pregnancy can do this stuff, that's why he cooks for you with no problem. -"Please, try this. It's scrumptious." -But Bi-Han isn't insane. -He tells you that he'd never eat that. He'd rather eat wood. -But…are those tears in your eyes. Just because he doesn't want to eat that abomination? -"Fine." Bi-Han grumpily says, picking up the cauliflower with his chopsticks. "Don't forget the sauce!" He looks at you with death in the eyes before nodding and dipping the vegetable in the ketchup. -It is as terrible as it looks. -Don't say ever again he doesn't love you.

Kuai Liang: -He is a little soldier ready to satisfy your every command. -So when you ask him for spicy chips with vanilla ice cream, Liang didn't even bat an eye, ready to buy everything you asked for. -"Wanna try?" Here the problem starts. -How is he gonna tell you that he'd rather eat dirt than vanilla ice cream? -Well, in a way or another, he does. Your eyes get wide and Liang is ready to placate the crying crisis he feels it's coming. -But you just shrug "Good. More for me." -The sigh of relief he left out was big enough to close the door of your shared bedroom.

Tomas Vrbada: -"Chocolate cream and carrots?" "Yes, Tommy. I need it more than oxygen right now." -Tomas had to ask because he wasn't ready to hear that request first thing in the morning. -He brings your food back fairly quick, a little cup with chocolate cream in one hand and another with sliced carrots in the other. -"Wanna try?" You tell him, a bit of chocolate on the corner of your lips. Tomas nods, not before brushing away the chocolate on your lips with his thumb and sucking it. -"This…is actually good." He whispers out. "Told you." -If he wasn't that bad for his diet, he'll indulge in this new "dish" more often.

Shang Tsung: -"You woke me up because you want sausages with jam?" He looks at you, bedhair, and a bit of drool sticking on his chin. You nod. "Goodnight." Shang Tsung turns around and goes back to sleep. -You'll have to whine and beg a lot if you want your husband to bring you food. -No way he'll dirty his hand in the kitchen so he will ask someone else to make it for you. -"Do you wanna try?" For a second, you thought he was going to steal your soul. "Don't play with fire, dove." Shang Tsung says, pinching your cheek. -While you finish your food, he is already back asleep.

[justasecretflower]

🥀- Dating Jeff! The killer before he became a proxy!

- fluff.

‼️swearing! its jeff obviously…

_______________________________

- Liu was 100% the more popular brother, he was more gentle, more kind, had more looks and friends.

- so naturally, Jeff didn’t even believe you when you said you liked him, like Toby.

- he thought you were just trying to get close to his “better” younger brother.

- you have to keep trying for him to actually believe you. You kept asking him out, telling him he looked nice, or complimenting him for getting a good score.

-he finally believes you after like a month of this and he went out to the park as a date. You brought some snacks and stuff to drink.

- You both hid in the slide. Lying right next to each other in the plastic red slide away from everyone else, talking for just hours straight. He knew he had to go home, but he didn’t care. This was his first ever date.

- “where’s my hug at?” Btw.

- “guess who?” While closing your eyes

- acts like a super senior without the pedophilia

- holds stuff above your head too.

- the first time you kissed he was fed up of procrastination. You sat next to him under the bleachers late at night, then randomly got grabbed by your cheeks and kissed roughly.

- it was a long, deep, rough kiss. He put all of his passion and love for you in that kiss.

- he didn’t apologize for how rough he grabbed you, or how sudden it was, he only went in for a second kiss.

- late night walks>>>>>>

- him giving you that dirty white hoodie he always wears when you get cold.

- makes little notes for you in class, forms a paper airplane and aims straight for your head. Then snickers about it.

- he bites. Not as something sexual just a little sign of affection. Your arm, shoulder, and jaw have become a constant place for him to bite.

-no, he will never do it hard; ever.

- can’t afford flowers, picks up weeds while walking and gives them to you.

- if you’re eating something, he snatches it up and takes a bite.

-same goes for if you’re drinking something, don’t mind him just taking a little swig.

- writes his initial and hearts on your hand all the time

-writes YOUR initial and hearts on his converse

- has a picture of you in his hoodie pocket, sure it’s a little dirt and crumpled but it’s something.

- neck kisses, on the back of the neck :(

- doesn’t know how to express his love, so he does tiny things like picking up cool trinkets he finds on the ground, helping you with a problem in school, and drawing tiny hearts everywhere (on you and your paper)

- has a tiny version of your purfume that he keeps to spray his pillows when he wants to pretend like he’s holding you.

__________________________________________

“Hmmm…a doctor?” You ask, this was the 5th thing you’ve asked him what he wants to be when he grows up, so far he’s said no to everything and it’s been getting progressively harder to think of more careers. The chill of the autumn air dances between the strands of mine and Jeff’s hair, lightly kissing my cheek and making my cheeks and tip of my nose red. He was climbing up towards the monkey bars. Hopping to one of them he thrusts an arm out to reach for the other bar. “Fuck no. Too much work” Jeff huffs a laugh. Lifting his body up to curl his legs on one of the bars, leaving him hanging upside down. I walk towards him, putting my hands on his cheeks. “I give up, what do you wanna be when you grow up.” He looks at me, eyes getting softer, lighter. “With you.” He says, smashing our lips together, like he always does, but pulling away quickly. “Don’t tell anyone I said that corny shit..” he mumbles, hopping down from the bars and rubbing his hands together. I just smile brightly.

________________________________________

- all of his movements seem like he’s scared of losing you, like you’re gonna disappear within seconds.

- grips your hand with a death grip, kisses you rough and fast, hugs you so tight you can’t breathe.

- it’s only in the quiet of the night when he stays over, spooning you does he gently hold your hand and softly kiss your face.

Pt 2. Meeting Jeff! The killer again after dating him before he was a proxy

Tags

[forlorn-crows]

𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝑰𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝑴𝒚 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒀𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝑫𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒆

aka Remember This Post?

Rating: Explicit

Relationship(s): Aether/Rain

Tags: transmasc!rain, semi-public sex, car sex, making out, vaginal fingering, grinding, cumming in pants. i couldn't get that post out of my head so here we are. they're silly let them have their car makeouts.

Words: 2501

Rain makes a noncommittal noise, watching as the buildings start to disappear as they leave town. He shifts in his seat again and rubs his palms up and down his thighs. Slow, absentmindedly. He sniffs. “Maybe I don’t want to share.” There’s a certain lilt to his voice: not one of petulance like one might expect after suggesting the water ghoul share his treats. Rather, there’s an air of whimsy that coats his words as he rolls his head over to peek at Aether, only solidified by the coy look on his face when Aether sneaks a glance.

read the rest under the cut or on AO3!

Rain sighs, sinking deeper into the passenger seat. “Can’t wait to eat those Takis,” he muses. “They looked sooo good.” He kicks his feet where they dangle off the dash, knees pressed to the glove compartment. “Wonder if they’re as spicy as the blue ones?”

“Probably,” Aether smirks, chuckling as he turns onto the long stretch of road that connects the town to the more remote area where the abbey lives. Many miles of farmland, cemeteries, and the occasional crop of forest stands between Rain and his snacks—but it’s never a boring drive with each others’ company.

“Dew’ll wanna sample some, that’s for sure.”

Rain makes a noncommittal noise, watching as the buildings start to disappear as they leave town. He shifts in his seat again and rubs his palms up and down his thighs. Slow, absentmindedly. 

He sniffs. “Maybe I don’t want to share.” There’s a certain lilt to his voice: not one of petulance like one might expect after suggesting the water ghoul share his treats. Rather, there’s an air of whimsy that coats his words as he rolls his head over to peek at Aether, only solidified by the coy look on his face when Aether sneaks a glance. 

“Maybe I want them all to myself.” Rain puts a hand on the bigger ghoul’s thigh and gives him a squeeze. “You know?”

Aether hums knowingly. He lifts his foot up on the accelerator, slowing them down a notch. He’s always down to stall if the detour makes it worth his while. 

“Anything else you want to yourself?” There’s usually only one thing he wants—and Aether’s a sucker for it.

“Maybe.” Rain’s glamoured hand drifts higher. Fingers walking to the inside of his thigh. The muscle twitches under his palm and he smirks. Too easy. “What do you think?”

Aether covers Rain’s hand with his own, squeezing back. “You know the answer is always yes, guppy.”

Rain smiles, dull teeth flashing pearly white. He bites his lip and wiggles his fingers under Aether’s hand. Lays his head on his own shoulder and bats his lashes at him. “Yeah?” Insufferably cute and wholly mischievous.

“Yes.” He rolls his eyes playfully. “Better ask me now, or we’ll miss our usual spot,” he teases.

Rain giggles, flirting dialed up to a hundred. “You wanna have a little fun, baby?”

Aether smiles cheekily and pulls off onto a dirt road just as the car crests over the hill. “Well, I thought you’d never ask.”

The road isn’t terribly long, but it’s winding—looping around little shacks and abandoned houses of a neighborhood that once was. They approach a slightly overgrown driveway shaded by tall evergreens. The main path would take them to a dilapidated cabin, long since left to mother nature; but, it’s the tiny path forked off that Aether pulls into, shielded from the main road yet close enough to spin around if need be. 

Before he can even throw the car into park, Rain’s slipping his knees off the dash and clamoring into the backseat, toeing his shoes off as he shoves his body over the center console. 

“Aux. Aux cord,” Rain demands. He fishes his phone from his jacket pocket and grasps blindly for the cable. “Made us a playlist. All grungy and shit, like a horny teenager in those 90s movies made it. We can pretend we’re playing hooky in your beat-up car you got for your sixteenth birthday and we’re thirty minutes away from being caught with your hand down my pants.”

Aether scoffs and kills the engine. “Dew help you with that playlist?”

“Of course he helped.” Rain waits for him to exit the driver’s seat and switch to the backseat before adding: “You think your boyfriend was gonna turn down helping with a little roleplay?” The water ghoul hits Shuffle, and a Radiohead song fills the speakers. He tosses his phone back into the passenger seat, his jacket soon following. 

“Never,” Aether concurs. As soon as the door shuts behind him, though, he’s grabbing Rain and tugging him into his lap, pulling him into a searing kiss and ending any meaningful conversation. There’s no need for preamble; no need to ease into it, to warm up into something hot and steamy. All at once it’s hands everywhere, tongues slipping past lips, swallowed groans and heated breath. 

“Mmpf, yeah, kiss me,” Rain breathes. “Faster.”

Aether smiles against his lips and slides his hands up Rain’s jean-clad thighs. “So needy. What if someone sees?”

Any sense of urgency, of wrongness, is entirely manufactured, of course (unless there’s ice cream in the trunk), but the fantasy of it all makes it feel naughty—and that’s what spurs them on. 

“Always feel so good like this,” Aether breathes. He slips his hands up the back of Rain’s shirt,  palms pressed to the small of his back. Where there would normally be fins and slightly wet skin, there’s nothing but smooth, warm, human skin. Aether hums appreciatively and feels along each side of his spine. The action earns him a shiver, and Rain whines against his mouth. 

“Yeah,” he groans. “Fuck, keep touching me.” Rain grinds against Aether’s lap, earning a grunt of his own. He’s so hot over him, holding back absolutely nothing. Kissing and humping with the enthusiasm of a teenage boy. 

Aether fucking loves it.

The water ghoul tips his head back once Aether latches onto his neck, sucking a mark under the hinge of his jaw. Worrying the skin between his teeth to really bring the blood to the surface and bloom into a circle of red. Rain moans through it—little ah’s that fall from his slack mouth as his fingers tighten in Aether’s hair. Holding him there. Throbbing when his hands skirt even higher under the back of his shirt.

“Hah.” Rain moans a laugh when Aether moves lower, working in another mark right above his collarbone. “Can’t hide them—everyone will know,” he says. “They’re gonna see.”

“They will, won’t they?” Aether rumbles. “Know what we got up to, hm?”

“Want them to,” Rain keens, hips bucking. Head just bumping against the roof of the car. “Shit, skin’s so sensitive–uh.” His words transform into a loud groan as Aether presses him tight to his chest, blunt nails digging into his back. Desperation only building with each passing moment. 

“Marks always look so pretty with these freckles.” He presses his lips to them a handful more times, purposefully wet and indulgent. “Lucifer, love havin’ you all to myself.” 

His cock loves it too, getting chubbier the more Rain wriggles and grinds on his lap. It’s inevitable, really, especially glamoured. Squeeze everything that makes them demons inside a full human facade, and their bodies grow tighter, in a way. Much more sensitive to pleasure when everything else is hidden away. There’s no space for sensation to dissipate, so it all pools at the surface and drives them crazy. 

Rain dives back in, pointedly frenzied as he licks into Aether’s mouth. “So hot,” he moans, grinding harder, kissing deeper. “Oh, Aether.”

The bigger ghoul groans, loud enough that it drowns out the music. “Fuck, say my name,” he slurs against Rain’s eager mouth. 

And Rain does. Sighing it between each break of their kisses until it dissolves into nothing but the movement of his lips and tongue, halted fricatives and drawn out vowels as the need to devour one another reaches its peak. Their kisses only get sloppier, hungrier. Rain’s tongue explores Aether’s mouth every other time they pull apart. Aether sucks at Rain’s bottom lip, and Rain pulls at Aether’s hair. 

Aether’s knees push further into the backs of the seats as he sinks down, just enough to really push the hardened ridge of his cock against his fly. Rain’s practically steaming where they’re pressed together—and only getting hotter the longer he rubs on him. Soon enough, he’s whining at every one of those rolls of his hips, every little thing Aether has to say against his mouth. And he’s loud. Letting out noises he rarely gets to hear, especially in the company of others.

But it’s the moment Aether chooses to grab his ass and help him grind down on his cock that Rain loses it completely.

“Shit—need it, need you to touch me,” he breathes, already popping the button on his jeans. As soon as his zipper’s down, Aether’s tugging on the back of his pants, sliding them down just enough so he can fit his hands inside. One grips at Rain’s ass, encouraging him to hover, and the other slips into the front of his underwear.

“Oh, guppy—” Aether rubs along Rain’s folds, thumb pressing right against the little head of his dick.

“Fuck!” Rain tosses his head back, pushing the top of it into the car’s headliner. He’s so hard, so wet; both of them can’t help but groan. “Seven fucking hells.”

“So hot like this,” Aether mumbles. His breath gets shaky as his fingers rub at Rain’s entrance, the hottest and wettest part of him. Rain throbs, and the rim of his hole kisses at Aether’s fingertips. His cock twitches so hard it makes him dizzy, and his groan follows him down until the back of his head hits the headrest, eyes heavy and gazing up at Rain hungrily. “Let me put ‘em in,” he rasps. “Wanna feel ins—”

Before he can finish, Rain’s hand shoots down between them and grips his wrist, shoving his hand further into his body, so his fingers have no choice but to sink into his cunt. 

“Make me cum,” Rain begs. He lets go of Aether’s wrist and grips the seats behind him, so tightly it’s a wonder he doesn’t rip right through them. Rain hangs his head against his shoulder and lifts his hips with a whine, giving Aether perfect access. “Please.”

“Whatever you want,” Aether groans, fingers starting up a rhythm. “Satanas, I can’t believe you’re all mine right now.”

Rain whines again—for him, only for him—high-pitched and shameless. Grinds against his hand like his life depends on it. Aether’s fingers get slicker with each thrust, until soon the sound of Rain’s wetness overshadows the shredded chords of Deftones. 

“Yeah—yeah, that’s it, baby,” Aether groans. “Fuck you’re so wet.”

Rain turns his head and lets loose a moan right into his ear. Aether jolts, the sound going straight to his dick. 

“Oh hells, keep doin’ that in my ear, yeah.” His hips start moving of their own accord, little thrusts that build until it’s really the motion of his pelvis that drives his fingers in and out; a pseudo fucking that has both of them barreling towards a messy end. 

As their shared panting reaches its peak, Rain chokes out: “You’re gonna make me cum. Shit, m’ gonna cum like this.”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh. Oh.” Aether speeds his thumb over Rain’s cock and thrusts into where he needs it most. Thighs starting to burn from holding himself up in order to press his fingers nice and deep. “Th-there, hh–oh fuck—” 

With a flex of his hips, Rain smashes his face into Aether’s neck and creams his pants with a string of shouts, cunt squeezing hard around the quint ghoul’s fingers. The intensity of it sneaks up on him, blows him over with how hard he cums, and Aether wants to drown in it. 

“Thaaat’s it,” Aether coos, grinding his hips up harder into his own hand. “Keep goin’, give me all of it, fuck.”

The longer it lasts, the more Rain shakes against Aether: arms struggling to keep him from face planting into the headrests, thighs trembling keeping his hips raised, socked feet twitching against Aether’s shins every time his stomach clenches. And Aether’s own hips just keep going, the head of his cock pressing just right into his fly as it rubs against the back of his hand. 

“Next—shit—next time, gonna get y-your cock in me,” Rain whines, coming down yet still pushing Aether to finish, too. “Squeeze it . . . just like this, oh.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The water ghoul groans, almost growls. Right against Aether’s ear, teeth to the lobe: “Raw.”

Just one word, but the effect on his body is brutal. “Fucking—shit!” Aether’s voice cracks as he thumps the back of his head against the seats, cock spurting his release into the fabric of his boxers. His hand grips Rain’s ass hard, forcing him down against his lap as he goes taut as a bowstring. 

Rain gives a lazy, open-mouthed smile as he watches him cum. “So hot, love,” he groans. “Gods, this never gets old.”

“N-never,” Aether gasps. Valiantly, his cock kicks one last time before he collapses back down. Rain somehow saves himself from plopping right on down with him, allowing Aether the grace to remove his (now very wet) hand before his wrist starts to crick at the wrong angle. 

Rain sighs as his fingers slide out of his cunt, as close to purring as a glamoured ghoul can get. The two of them pant in silence, just staring at each others’ flushed faces. 

“Got so messy,” Rain says after the next song ends, staring at the shining digits shamelessly. 

“You and me both, sweetheart,” Aether snorts, his face morphing into some kind of dazed awe. He turns his fingers this way and that, shaking his head. “They’re gonna smell us from a mile away.”

“Mmn.” Rain bites his lip, eyes still heavy. A beat. “Better clean those off, then.”

Aether huffs a laugh. “Kinda meant the c–umph.”

Rain dives in and presses Aether’s fingers to his own mouth, sandwiching them between both of their lips. Rain’s tongue works over the digits, making out around them to clean off his own slick while Aether’s brain attempts to catch up to the situation. Licking, sucking, kissing, until all that’s left is saliva. The quintessence ghoul groans when Rain finally pulls his hand away, capturing his lips fully and slipping his hands into Rain’s hair. 

“Ugh, baby,” he sighs. “Don’t wanna give you up.”

Rain hums in agreement. Rocking slowly back and forth over Aether’s lap until it earns him a whine. “Don’t have to,” he lilts, “could just keep kissin’ me.” Rain rubs their noses together, switching sides. Licking along Aether’s top lip and feigning going back in just to feel him lunge in for it and gasp when his lips meet nothing but air.  

He groans, stealing a glance at the clock on the little dashboard screen. “We gotta get back, sweet boy.”

“Uh huh.” Fully unconvinced. The water ghoul makes no move to get up, let alone unplug his phone from the aux, continuing his lazy, post-nut exploration of Aether’s mouth. And, despite his last sentence, Aether lets him—indulging in their tangle of tongues, slipping his hands up the front of Rain’s shirt until he can palm at his warm little tits. 

“Mmpf.”

“Okay, just. Just a few more minutes.”

“Yeah.”

[scudslut]

A Summer Wasting

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 0.8k

warnings: nothing, just pure fluff 🫶🏻

The falling sun felt warm against your skin as you walk through the prison courtyard. You’ve always enjoyed the Georgian sunsets growing up; after a long day of brutal heat, the world gave a soft reprieve, illuminating the sky in its vast colours for anybody to enjoy, pessimist or not.

These days it was hard not to be… with death looming around each corner, the scent constantly coating the air that you’d honestly forgotten a time it hadn’t.

You found yourself searching for things. Things you could mindlessly enjoy, to bring small happinesses into this dull life. You took note of the sky as you walked, sunsets.

You continued, closing your eyes momentarily as you walked, trying to immerse yourself in that warm light fully. Right now you were looking for a mirror of sorts, figuring one of the car windows would serve you best in your task. Spotting the rusted Jeep closest, you head towards it climbing onto the hood.

You had just finished showering and remembered how much you loved braiding your hair as a kid, finding the simple task so peaceful whether you knew it back then or not. You remembered how happy you’d be waking up the next morning, taking them out to let the soft waves cascade down your shoulders. Braids, you had noted.

Situating yourself, you take in your reflection in the windshield and begin parting your hair in two sections to make twin French braids. The dirt-covered window didn’t offer much but it was enough.

Humming quietly under your breath, you start the process, folding each strand over and under and over again, listening to the crickets as they began their nightly melodies. You’re so invested in your movements, that you almost miss the sounds of footsteps on gravel approaching you.

“What are ya doin’ on there,” Daryl grunts, confusion and slight annoyance mixed within his tone.

“My hair,” you answer curtly with a small smile, you thought it was quite obvious.

He eyed you momentarily, seemingly still lost as to why you could be seated on the beloved Jeep. “Fer what?”

You finally turn to him, your hands holding your spot in the braid to not lose it, “Because I wanted to, and they look real pretty in the morning when I take them out,” you answer, turning back to your reflection, finishing the first braid.

“Ain’t gotta doll yerself up for the walkers y’know, they’ll eat ya just fine,” he quips causing you to huff, now in your own annoyance.

“It’s not for anybody but me, Daryl. It makes me happy, which isn’t something you come across easily these days,” You sigh.

Silence falls between the both of you, the crickets becoming even louder. You feel the vehicle dip beneath you and quickly snap your head around. You watch as Daryl plops himself up on the hood behind you, arms crossed over his knees, staring at you intently.

“What are you doing?” you ask bewildered. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to spend time together, it was just that typically you were the one to initiate any of it, following him around like a lost puppy the majority of the time.

“Wanna watch ya,” He simply replies, motioning for you to continue.

The next day you had spent in the gardens, tending to the small amount of crop your group had managed to accumulate since you took the prison. The sun once again was ruthless in its heat, beating down like drums and causing your wavy hair to stick to your neck.

You stood up from the soft dirt, dusting off your legs when you felt a presence sauntering up beside you. Lifting your head your eyes meet the familiar blue ones you had been gazing into just last night.

“Hey, Daryl,” you smile, receiving a small nod in return. He seemed to be contemplating something, unsure where to look as he chewed on his bottom lip. “Something I can do for you?”

He quickly shakes his head, ears already pink in embarrassment, “Nah, I- uh… I jus-,” he fumbles, “Ya look nice is all.”

The grin that overtakes your features is unavoidable, your heart swelling at his sweet compliment. You of course felt disgusting, sweaty, and mud-drenched from working all day, but the happiness that washed over you was unmistakable.

“Ya think?” you giggle, referencing to your dirty skin, “Good enough for the walkers?”

It’s small, but you catch it — the shy smile he hides as he bows his head in affirmation, “Oh ya, gonna start callin' you walker bait now,” he teases back and you can’t help the fit of giggles you break out into.

You share a few other words before he heads off toward the watch towers for his afternoon shift. You stare at his leather wings as his figure retreats in the distance, a fuzzy glow filling your senses.

Daryl, you note.

[littleplantfreak]

Run my hands through - Umemiya Hajime

Made a post about how much i loved Ume with his hair down yesterday and ended up writing something entirely self indulgent //gestures at this official art too

-SFW (but almost wasn't I almost got super carried away but deleted it cause I leave smut to the professionals) so uhhh marking/hickeys, hair pulling, makin' out with Umemiya and slightly possessive behavior on readers part but in a silly way if that makes sense just in case anyone has problems with that stuff.

You're looking at him more than usual. Umemiya can feel your eyes boring into the back of his head while he's re-potting plants on the roof. He asked you about it before but all you do is hum and say you think you're staring a normal amount. Of course he doesn't mind, but it feels like he's under a microscope. When he asked Kotoha if she knew why you were acting weird, she shrugged and said you'd were looking at some old pictures at the children's home so maybe you'd just been noting how different he looked in his childhood pictures. She ended it with a look and tone that conveyed you'd already asked her to keep something secret.

-----

It's his hair again. The hair that's always gelled back in a slight wave keeping it out of his face completely. It's not hard to break it free from the glassy prison he molds it into though. There have been plenty of times strands fell forward from sweating, working or fighting, but you've never seen it fully down in person. That's why, when you saw a semi-recent picture of him with his siblings, long hair falling in his face, trimmed neatly with ends blunt, you started to feel a certain way about it. You innocently asked Kotoha if she had any more pictures of Ume like that.

"Like what?"

"Like with his hair down."

"Oho you have a thing for his hair now?" She teases and although you know she won't tell him if you ask her not to, you're still embarrassed at being found out so easily.

"He's my boyfriend! I have a thing for nearly everything about him."

"But anyone can tell you're kinda obsessed with it with how much you fix and touch it throughout the day. Just ask him to wear it down for you."

It's not that you hadn't thought about it, but the more you thought, the more you started getting frustrated. Why didn't he wear it down more often? It seems like he did in old pictures. If he hated it now you didn't wanna force him to change it

Your self control was pretty good, but once you'd started really looking it was impossible to stop. His most recent fight with Shishitoren had haphazard strands in his face dislodged by sweat and aggressive movement. Of course you were concerned with the wounds spanning across his face and body, but another part of you wanted to eat him alive with how good he looked. You're not quite sure you'd be able to stop yourself from jumping him if you saw him with his hair fully down. Sitting in a chair on the roof, you watch him and think about the feeling of running your fingers through his white locks unhindered by that damn tough gel he puts in.

"Pumpkin can you hand me the small pruning sheers to your left?" he calls over without looking over at you.

"Mhmmm," you barely reply still stuck in a daze.

Pruning sheers...

Right!

You snap out of the daydreams that'd been haunting you to stand and grab them. Just as you're about to hand them over, Umemiya grasps the wrist with the sheers and pulls gently but firmly to drag you down on the ground with him. He sets the sheers down before taking both your hands in his.

"Something on my face? You've been starin' an awful lot."

"Ahh dirt, if I had to guess," a halfhearted excuse while your brain continued to process things slower than usual.

"Sweetheart baby love of mine," he is all dramatics now stringing pet names together in a silly amalgamation. Once he starts making direct eye contact it's hard to look anywhere else, "you have got to tell me whats going on in that beautiful head of yours. I love the attention but if something's bothering you-"

"It's your hair!" You spit out in a panic, drawing your hands away to cover your face in embarrassment. You can tell he's a little worried and it makes you feel even worse for making a big deal about it.

"My hair bothers you?" He's confused. Of course he is. It isn't something you've brought up in the past after all. He thought you liked his hair since you were always fixing it for him and you do. Your voice is muffled by your hands but he can still understand to a point.

"It looks great and I love it, but I reaaallly wanna see it down," you can hear yourself whining the words instead of saying them normally. "You always have it up when you're at school," taking a deep breath as your hands come off your face to speak more clearly. "I was looking at pictures with Kotoha and they're pretty much all of you with your hair down." Taking a second you twirl one of his loose strands around your finger in lieu of staring again, sincerely embarrassed you let it get to you this bad. He finally puts the pieces together from his conversation with Kotoha earlier.

"Our date night's tomorrow right? I'll wear it down then," he says, letting you mess with his hair. He can see a jolt go through you at his words and you lock eyes with him immediately.

"Really? Really really?" You're just about vibrating in place, grabbing his face with both hands and squishing his cheeks.

"Rweawy rweawy rweawy!" His breath is coming out of his nose in amused puffs due to the quick shift in enthusiasm and your hold on his face.

"I'VE GOTTA GO PICK MY OUTFIT OUT OH MY GOD ILOVEYOUBYE!" A small peck on the nose and you're gone like the wind throwing open the door and running past Sugishita who was on his way up the stairs. The long haired boy looks back at Umemiya with wide, questioning eyes before letting the moment pass, his head dips in the usual greeting before he walks over to do the daily gardening tasks.

_____

“I changed my mind we can’t go out tonight.”

“Babe you’re all dressed up and you were so excited to check out that new restaurant near the park,” Hajime sighs exasperated. You’re in the foyer of his home, hands on both sides of the door frame blocking his escape.

“Not looking like that you aren’t! Do you want every girl in a 20 mile radius to fall for you? The men too? I’ll have to fight every single one of them and of course I’d win but imagine the casualties! The collateral damage!” you cry hanging your head in fake hysterics. Both Kotoha and their other siblings have been watching this two-part comedy special for about 10 minutes now, two minutes of which you just STARED at him. Then you began circling like a hawk looking at him from any and all angles as if to commit it to memory. Then you started laying on the compliments and pick up lines but he could tell you meant every one of them. “Who is this absolute knock out in front of me? Is my boyfriend a model now? Did it hurt when you fell because I’m staring at an angel.”

Which brought you both to the current scene and while you were (for the most part) joking, you also…weren’t. You could and probably are just extremely biased but GOD you think no one could pull off that hair quite so well. Usually it takes a lot to make Umemiya blush, but his face is currently stained red by how brazen you are at the moment. He’s smiling and trying to take it in stride but even Kotoha can tell he’s affected by your display and she's relishing it.

“No more arguing,” he picks you up by the waist and hoists you to him in a hug that leaves your face in his chest and feet off the floor. “We’re heading out now.” He sends a farewell back to your amused audience and the kids yell back a cacophony of teases and calls for their onee-san and onii-san to come back soon. You start muffling unrecognizable words into his shirt before he puts you down as he gets further down the street.

“It would’ve been one of the best ways to die if i’d stayed there a little longer,” you breathe and stumble back a bit.

“You are shameless today,” he laughs and goes to hold your hand. Anyone watching you both can tell you're grossly in love by the dreamy look on your face as you watch him while you walk down the street. You realize now that this is the first time in about two weeks you have him to yourself, which may be why you've been clingier than normal. Every time either of you tried to schedule date night with the other, someone or something came up and made you push date night back.

Going two weeks without any prolonged physical contact (save for hello and goodbye hugs or kisses) with your boyfriend has made you starved for him in every way your brain can fathom, which is why it isn't surprising that you end up dragging him through the park to an alcove you know isn't traveled to often. It also isn't surprising when you sit him down on the bench bracing a knee next to him, and pinning him loosely in place. He doesn't say a word, but tilts his head up slightly angled in favor of you closing the distance, daring you with those stormy grey eyes.

Your hands find their way easily to the soft ivory of his hair, delving deeper to twist and pull him in. Caught between a sigh and a moan, Umemiya Hajime is melting into you, lines blurring and nerves on fire. His hands fumble to grab the thigh closest to him as he moves you to straddle him. You haven't let up on your assault on his senses, fingers loosening their hold to rub small circles into his scalp.

Is this how you feel when he goes all out after stress starts to take it's toll on him? Now that he thinks about it he's always been the one to initiate this kind of thing, but god he would've asked you to take the lead sooner if he knew it felt this good. Heartbeat thrumming through his hands, he runs them in a soothing pattern from the top of your hip to you knee giving your legs the occasional extra squeeze.

A wave of calm shifts the clouds filling your head out as you have an idea. Parting from him briefly you start kissing and mouthing your way down to the collar of his shirt. He squeezes your thighs harder as your breath ghosts his neck and you give it a few experimental nips before cooling the spot with your tongue. He's trying to stifle a high pitched noise in the back his throat but once you hear it you latch on biting and sucking a single bright red mark. A soft breath over your work before you sit back to admire it. The mark peeks out just enough for you to see it right now but low enough that when he's wearing his furin jacket, he'll be able to hide it.

"That was-," you start, still breathless.

"Wow," he voice cracks at the same time. His eyes are a little wild but his hair is even wilder, sticking up in some directions and falling flat in others. Giving a small tap on his arm he releases the deathgrip he had on you before his eyes stick right to where he had been holding. Blue bruises are scattered over both legs where his fingers were, but they're just barely hidden once you fix your dress.

"Guess we're uh...even?" you're suddenly bashful at what was probably the same type of stare you've been giving him for a week straight now. Umemiya runs his own hands through his hair trying to catch his breath and make himself a little more presentable too.

"No way are we close to being even you little monster. After dinner I'm getting you back," and you can tell he's not bluffing.

"I'm shaking in my shoes Haji," you shot back feeling a bit more like yourself as you go to grab his hand. He moves towards you but you end up spun around and he picks you up for the second time that night, this time settled on carrying you bridal style.

"Put me down," you squeak in warning, the skirt of your dress no longer hiding the fresh bruises.

"This is part of your punishment sweetheart. Also, no one's coming after me if I carry you around like a princess right?" It was hard to argue with that logic and to be fair, despite your earlier boldness your legs ended up weak. He had probably seen the shaky steps you took towards him a second ago.

Both of you got to the restaurant in time despite the detour and the next day you were sporting a hoodie to hide the payback you took happily after.