Graveyard

MDNI ‼️ this is a Dark Writing Tumblr so ANYTHING goes Enjoy my freaks Other Acct: Romantic-Genocide

[headstone-thoughts]

Hi! Im Fin, 22, He/They preferred but dont mind masculine terms :)

My request form is here My Ko-fi is here

Anything I write is specifically for my readers or self indulgence, I dont write about actual people so dont ask me to.

I don't support pedophiles or abusers of any kind. Just because I write it, doesnt mean I support it. Just like how I love Harry Potter but hate the bitch that wrote the books.

Fandoms I'll write for (its growing)

♧Stranger Things

♧Criminal Minds

♧SWAT

♧Avatar (James Cameron)

♧Thunderbolts

♧Harry Potter

♧The Pitt

Tags I will write for:

●Any of the cest ones, ex: Bro x Bro, Sis x Bro, Dad x Daughter, Mom x kid

●R3pe kink

●Most kink tags

●Monster Fucking

●Omegaverse

●Primal/Prey

●Blasphemy Kink

●Choking, Marking, Spanking

●Making Porn. Vouyerism (did i spell it right?)

●Age Regression (but mostly SFW ones)

●If not listed, just ask ♡

○Yes, I will write simple scenarios for most of the cest unless im asked for Character x reader for them!

What I won't do and dont want

■Urnial Kinks

■Body harm writing

■Pedophila

■Do not send me threats or anything of the such if you wanna shoot a anon message that im a good girl, then I'll gladly take that

Im an open book, Requesting is open, nearly everything is on the table besides what I listed are my no-go's

Taken Anons: 📞, 💿

[headstone-thoughts]

Hunter!Billy x Prey!Trans!Reader

Warnings/Notes: Hunter/Prey, Puppyplay, Billy is pup, Reader is Owner, Slight- Noncon, Forest Play, Trans!Reader. For my lovely 📞 Anon 💕 im sorry it took so long

Word count: 994

The forest floor crunched under your bare knees as you ran, bare knees stinging from how many times you've already fallen. You hadnt ran this hard in a long time, why the hell did you ever let Billy convince you to chase you through the woods? The pine needles pricked your palms and the cold night air bit at your exposed skin, but none of that mattered compared to the heavy footsteps crashing through the underbrush behind you. You leaned against the tree, panting as quietly as you could, happy that Billy was happy but holy shit.

"Run faster, Owner," Billy's voice called out, rough and eager. "If I catch you before the clearing, I'm going to fuck that tight little hole until you can't walk straight." God, you loved it when your pup was like this. Rough and content to obey the rules you two had set before this game started. You pushed harder, thighs burning, trying to put distance between yourself and the pup who owned you tonight. Your t-cock throbbed between your legs, already hard and rubbing against the crease of your boxers with each movement. Billy let you get ahead. Let you think you might actually escape. Then he moved, knees thudding, closing the gap with terrifying efficiency. You heard him gaining and let out a broken whine, trying to veer left into thicker brush, but your coordination was shot. The moment your shoulder clipped a low branch, he was on you. His weight slammed into your back, driving you face-down into the moss. You thrashed, but he was bigger, stronger, and he had you pinned before you could even roll. One hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head back, while the other shoved into your pants and between your thighs to cup your dripping cunt. "Caught," he growled against your ear. "My good little prey." But even as he spoke, you could feel the pause in his movements, a silent check-in. "Green." You mumbled before he was going right back to business.

You sobbed, hips jerking as he rubbed your t-dick once, twice, then let go to work open the fly of his pants. The thick length of his cock sprang free, already hard, the head slick with his own arousal. He didn't bother with lube. He just spit on his palm, rubbed it over his shaft, and lined up without care. Your hole clenched around nothing for half a second before he drove his cock in to the hilt. The stretch burned, sudden and brutal, and your cry echoed off the trees. He didn't give you time to adjust. He just started fucking, hips snapping forward, burying himself deep with every thrust. Your fingers dug into the dirt. Your poor cock throbbed beneath you, untouched as he railed you. Each brutal thrust shoved you forward, knees scraping, until he grabbed your hips and hauled you back onto his cock like you weighed nothing. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the clearing, punctuated by your broken moans and the low, satisfied growls rumbling from his chest. "That's it," he panted, pounding into you. "Take it. My owner. My prey. Mine. All fucking mine."

He reached under you, found your t-cock and started rubbing it in time with his thrusts. Your whole body jerked, a high whine tearing from your throat as pleasure and pain tangled together. Your hole clenched around his cock, fluttering, trying to pull him deeper even as you shook your head in denial. "Pup, I dont think I took my meds today, you cant- nngh fuck. Dont come inside." You pleaded, knowing damn well he was gonna breed you whether you did or not. He leaned over you, chest pressed to your back, and bit down on the nape of your neck hard enough to bruise. You came with a shattered cry, cunt pulsing around his shaft, slick going down your thighs. Billy still didnt stop, he fucked you through your orgasm and then decided it was his turn to get off. He kept driving into you, chasing his own release, using your spent body like the toy it was. You whimpered, overstimulated, but stayed exactly where he put you—on your knees, ass up, taking every inch.

Billy came with a low groan, cock buried to the root, pumping thick ropes of cum deep into your hole. You felt every pulse, felt him fill you until it leaked out around his shaft and ran down your thighs. He stayed inside you for a long moment, breathing hard, then pulled out slow. A thick strand of cum followed, dripping from your stretched entrance. He wiped his cock on your pants, satisfied to all things holy. "Come on, Owner. Let's go again, wanna watch you try and run stuffed full of me." Curse him and his fucking stamina. "Please?" You pushed yourself to sitting on your knees, "Not tonight, pup. Fuck, that was hot and sweaty." Which was true, both of you were covered in sweat and now dirt. "But you can have me again at home." You promised, not even having enough time to react when he yanked you up, facing him and over his shoulder. "Home? Yeah, we can finish tonight at home." You didnt fight him on carrying you all the way to the cabin, legs too shaky and jelly like to even walk that far. Billy was already hard again, thinking of all the things he'd be doing to you once you two got back home. "I didnt go too rough did I? Your knees ok? I know i tackled you a little hard." He asked, checking in like he always did between scenes. "My knees will be okay, dear. I had fun tonight." You reassured, "but yeah, before you ask, I'd love a massage and a cuddle when we get done." Tonight was far from over for the both of you, and he wasnt stopping till you said Red.

[headstone-thoughts]

billy stepcest with puppy mentions plz

- 📀

Gasp! You are back! And yes ofc! Ive actually been dreaming about GuardDog!Billy ☁️

Warnings/Notes: Stepcest/Stepbrothers, Puppy play, Billy's a huge guard dog, Owner!Reader, Pup!Billy, Smut, Nuzzling, Billy's a brat but sweet for Reader (Mostly), GuardDog!Billy, Established relationship

Word count: 1194

The last two weeks, it had been you and Billy at the house. Max, your mom, and his dad had gone on some trip in the next town over. So naturally, Billy already assumed his position, your pup. You two had been in a secret relationship the last six months, hiding it any way possible.

Billy's massive frame fills the doorway the second he pads in from the backyard, shoulders broad enough to block the light. His dark hair is tousled from the wind, and the thick leather collar around his throat shifts with every heavy breath. He’s already half-hard, the front of his loose sweats tenting as he catches your scent. You’re on the couch, legs spread just enough to let him see what’s his. He drops to his knees without being told, crawling the last few feet until his cheek presses against your inner thigh. "Missed you," he mutters, voice low and rough. His nose drags up the seam of your pants, inhaling deep. "Smells like you’ve been thinking about me." You hook two fingers under his collar and tug. Billy follows the pull, rising just enough to nuzzle his face into your neck. His tongue darts out, warm and wet, licking a slow stripe behind your ear before he bites—gentle, claiming. His hands stay on the floor like a good pup until you give permission, but his hips rock forward, grinding the thick line of his cock against your shin. "Down," you say, and he obeys instantly, dropping back to all fours. The bratty spark in his eyes doesn’t fade, though. He gives your ankle a quick nip, then soothes it with another long lick. You reach down and palm the back of his head, guiding him between your legs. Billy buries his face there, mouthing at the fabric, hot breath soaking through. His tongue presses flat, trying to taste you through the cloth. "Take it off," he growls, voice muffled. "Wanna lick you proper." You let him strip you, watching the way his pupils blow wide when your skin is bare. Billy doesn’t wait for further instruction. He shoves his face right in, nose nuzzling your bare cock before his tongue follows. He groans against you, the vibration traveling straight through your core. One of his huge hands grips your thigh, holding you open while the other stays planted on the floor like he’s still playing the role. He sucks you like it’s his job—messy, focused, the wet sounds filling the room. Every few licks he pauses to nuzzle, rubbing his cheek against your skin, marking you with his own spit. His stubble scrapes just enough to make you twitch. When your hips buck, he growls again and doubles down, sucking the head of your cock between his lips and flicking the slit with the tip of his tongue.

"Good boy," you praise, and Billy’s whole body shivers. The praise hits him harder than anything else. He whines softly, the sound vibrating against your shaft, then pushes two thick fingers inside your ass without warning. He curls them just right, pumping slow and deep while his mouth stays locked on your cock. His free hand finally leaves the floor so he can grip your ass, pulling you closer to his face. You come on his tongue, thighs clamping around his head. Billy doesn’t stop. He keeps licking through it, drinking you down, only easing off when your hand tugs his collar again. He looks up at you, mouth shiny, eyes glassy with need. His cock is fully hard now, straining against the thin fabric of his sweats, a wet spot darkening the front. "Please," he says, voice wrecked. "Can I fuck you? Been thinking about it all day. I've been so good, I swear." You stand and he follows, following you despite the strength and height difference. "Bed. Now." You push him onto his back on the bed and straddle his chest. He could flip you in a second—he’s twice your size—but he stays put, letting you use him. Billy always let you use him unless he was really pent the hell up. You peel his sweats down, smirking. His cock springs free, thick and flushed, the head already leaking. Billy’s hips jerk when you wrap your hand around him, but he doesn’t thrust. He waits, panting, until you decide what he gets. You stroke him slow, thumb smearing precum over the crown, then lean down and let a string of spit drip onto his shaft before you sucked just the tip for a quick moment. Billy groans, eyes rolling back. "Such a needy pup," you murmur, and he nods frantically, hoping and praying you give him more. You shift down and sink onto him in one smooth motion. Billy’s hands fly to your hips but he doesn’t grip hard—he just holds, letting you set the pace. You ride him steady, rolling your hips so he drags against every sensitive spot inside you. Every time you bottom out he lets out a broken sound, somewhere between a whine and a growl. His abs flex under your palms. You lean forward and he meets you halfway, tongue licking into your mouth, tasting himself on your lips. As you speed up, Billy’s restraint starts to crack. His hips snap up to meet yours, the slap of skin loud in the quiet room. He buries his face in your neck again, nuzzling hard, teeth scraping your pulse point. "Close," he warns, voice muffled. "Gonna fill you up if you keep—fuck—" You clench around him on purpose and Billy’s whole body locks up. He comes with a deep, guttural sound, cock pulsing hot and thick inside you. You keep moving through it, drawing every drop out until he’s twitching and oversensitive. Only then do you slow, grinding in lazy circles while he catches his breath. "Love you," he mumbles against your skin. "Even when you make me wait. Especially then." ou card your fingers through his hair and he leans into the touch like the guard dog he is—fierce for everyone else, but melting the second you give him attention. After a minute you roll off him. Billy follows immediately, curling around your back, one heavy leg thrown over yours. His nose finds the nape of your neck and stays there, breathing you in. "I made you wait cause you disobeyed what I told you." You only got a grunt in response. Typical.

Later, when you’re both cleaned up and tangled under the sheets, he’s still half in pup mode. He keeps nosing at your shoulder, your chest, anywhere he can reach without moving too far. You scratch behind his ear and he makes a low, pleased sound that rumbles through his chest. "Stay, yeah?" You murmured, already half asleep as he sinks into you more, falling asleep himself. The bratty edge is gone for now, replaced by that soft, devoted sweetness only you ever get to see. Billy drifts off like that, face tucked into your neck, the steady thump of his heartbeat against your back the last thing you feel before sleep takes you too.

[headstone-thoughts]

Stalker!Jonathan Byers x M!Reader

Notes: Jonathan Byers is a stalker, Mlm, Jonathan loved to take photos of Reader, Perv!Jonathan, Jonathan is a sub, Top!Reader, Reader finds Jonathans photo collection, Anal/Slight ass eating (did I write it right?), Unprotected pina, Creampie, Camera play, Reader has a bigger dick. (Your anon emoji is 📷) this was a request from my form <3

Word count: 1832

It was late as hell, but Jonathan couldnt care less. He had to see you tonight since you were finally back home from summer camp. He kept adjusting his camera till it focused on your open bedroom window, watching through the lens as you started stripping. "Oh god…" He kept the camera going, the shutter noise the only signal that was letting him now it was taking snaps of you. "Fuck." Jonathan groaned weakly, already getting hard as he got a full body shot. He had always thought of you as the typical 'Hot Popular Nerd' that everyone loved, but he never really got the chance to actually talk to you personally. Sadly, Jonathan would've most likely made a mockery of himself with you. There went your boxers… Holy shit, you had a big dick. He should've known, should've already fantasized about it but big and slightly thick? That wasn't fair at all! It didnt take long till his hand was in his pants, stroking lazily as he watched you do your nightly routine….Wait was that a magazine and some type of oil? Oh god oh god oh god. Jonathan adjusted, making sure to keep the camera taking photos as he matched your stroke pace, biting his bottom lip harshly so he wouldn't be loud. He'd watch you finish then go back home like nothing happened, really he shouldn't have been here in the first place but that stupid fucking summer camp job made you stay away from Hawkins longer than Jonathan had liked. His fist pumped his aching cock in perfect sync with yours, eyes glued to the lens where your thick shaft glistened with oil, veins bulging as you twisted your wrist at the head. You sped up through the viewfinder, hips bucking slightly off the bed, balls drawing tight. Jonathan mirrored it desperately, breath ragged, free hand clutching the camera steady. "Yes, cum for me," he whispered to himself, imagining your hot load. Your abs clenched, cockhead flaring—and then you erupted. Thick ropes of cum shot across your chest, splattering your pecs, one strand hitting your chin. The sight undid him. Jonathan's strokes turned frantic, balls tightening as he watched every pulse through the lens. His own release hit hard, cum spilling over his knuckles, soaking his boxers as he whimpered your name, body shuddering in the bushes outside your window.

The next day at school, Jonathan could barely focus. His mind kept replaying the images he'd captured—your toned body glistening under the dim light of your room, the way your thick cock had filled your hand as you pumped it slowly, oil slicking every inch, ending in that explosive finish he'd matched perfectly. He shifted in his seat during history class, his own dick twitching at the memory. That's when the teacher announced the group projects: pairs assigned for a photography and storytelling assignment. Of course, fate or whatever cruel joke the universe was playing put him with you. You caught his eye across the room, flashing a casual grin that made Jonathan's stomach flip. "Hey, man, looks like we're partners," you said after class, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. Your voice was deep, confident, and Jonathan nodded too quickly, mumbling something about meeting at his place that weekend. His house was empty most of the time anyways. Will was with friends, his mom at work so it was perfect or terrifying. He wasn't sure. Saturday afternoon rolled around, and there you were, knocking on his door with that easy smile. Jonathan let you in, his heart pounding as he led you to the lived-in living room. You could spot a couple of the camera equipment he was sure to be using, random D&D things from his little brother. It was a nice change for you, your own home was a little too perfect. Mom hated messes and so did Dad. "We can work on the storyboard here," he said, voice shaky, avoiding your gaze. You nodded, spreading out notebooks and sketches on the coffee table. Jonathan was a sweet shy guy in your opinion, you didn't get why Steve wasn't in favor of him, but it wasn't your business either. Half an hour in, Jonathan brought up snacks and drinks which you easily agreed to. "I'll go get 'em." He mumbled, ears pink as he escaped the tension he was making all on his own. There was no way you were curious enough to stick your hand under the couch. Okay, maybe his hiding spot was a little weird and obvious but the couch hadn't moved for the last ten years! Plus, Will loved to be a little shit and go into his room and move shit around, Jonathan had no other choice. You were not one to sit idle, just his luck. While Jonathan rummaged for snacks, you wandered around. First peeking into his room just to see before stepping back to the living room to look at the shelves of old photos, books, and random items that had been collected. You glanced back toward the kitchen, hearing Jonathan curse under his breath as a bag tore. You sat back down against the couch, on the opposite side before your fingers brushed against something under it. With a smirk, you slid it out, revealing an old rusted lunch box.

With a smirk you opened it quietly before freezing. It was you, all the photos were you. Candid shots from school, but then... closer ones. You stripping in your room, your hand wrapped around your cock, mid-stroke, oil dripping down your shaft. Another of you bending over to pick something up, your ass flexing. And holy fuck, one where you'd cum, thick ropes splattering your abs, captured in perfect detail—right as Jonathan must have blown his load outside. Your pulse quickened, but not in anger. No, something twisted and hot uncoiled in your gut. This perv—Jonathan Byers, quiet, awkward Jonathan—had been watching you, jerking off to you, cumming with you through his lens. And instead of revulsion, you felt a rush of power, arousal flooding your veins. Your dick hardened in your jeans as you flipped through more: you showering through a window, water cascading over your muscles; you sleeping, sheet barely covering your morning wood. "Fuck," you muttered, palming yourself through the fabric. Oddly, you loved it. Loved that he wanted you this badly, that he'd documented every inch of you like you were his personal porn star—and synced his orgasm to yours. By the time Jonathan returned with a bowl of chips, you were back in the living room, photos slipped into your pocket, face neutral while the lunch box was shoved back under the couch.

The project dragged on, but tension simmered under every word. You caught him staring at your hands, your mouth, your crotch. Finally, as the sun dipped low, you set your pencil down. "Jonathan," you said, voice low. He froze, eyes wide. "I saw your collection." His face drained of color. "I—it's not—please, don't—" You stood, closing the distance, towering over him. "Relax. I like it." His breath hitched as you grabbed his wrist, pulling him up. "You like watching me? Taking pictures of my cock, my ass? Cumming when I do? Makes you hard, doesn't it?" Jonathan nodded, whimpering, as he looked anywhere but you. "Y-yes. God, yes. I'm sorry, I just... you're so..." You shoved him against the wall, crashing your mouth to his in a bruising kiss. He melted into it, tongue tentative until you demanded more, sucking on it hard. Your hands roamed, yanking his shirt up to pinch his nipples, making him gasp. "Show me," you growled, breaking the kiss. "Get your camera. I want to take photos of this. Just like you did." Trembling, he obeyed, grabbing his Polaroid and a tripod from his room. You stripped him first, peeling off his clothes to reveal his slim body, his cock already leaking pre-cum, smaller than yours but throbbing desperately. "On your knees," you ordered, and he dropped, eyes locked on the bulge in your jeans. You unzipped, pulling out your thick dick—bigger, just like he knew—and slapped it against his cheek. "Suck it. Show the camera how much you want this." He leaned in, lips wrapping around the head, tongue swirling over the slit to taste your pre-cum. You groaned, threading fingers through his hair, guiding him deeper. He gagged as you hit the back of his throat, but didn't pull away, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing eagerly. The shutter clicked, capturing his mouth stretched around your shaft, saliva dripping down his chin. At least you knew how to use a camera, so there was no angle not being used. "Good boy," you praised, thrusting shallowly. He moaned around you, vibrations shooting straight to your balls. You face-fucked him steadily, watching his eyes water, his hand sneaking to stroke himself. Pulling out with a wet pop, you hauled him to the couch, bending him over the armrest. His ass was pale, tight—virgin territory, you guessed. You spread his cheeks, spitting on his hole before diving in with your tongue. He yelped, pushing back as you licked broad stripes over his pucker, then speared inside, fucking him with your tongue. "Oh fuck, please," he begged, voice breaking. You added fingers, scissoring him open, curling to hit his prostate. He sobbed, cock leaking onto the cushions. The camera whirred, snapping shots of your tongue buried in his ass, his hole clenching around your digits.

Satisfied he was ready, you stood, lining up your bare cock—unprotected, just how you both craved. The only mercy you did give him was sliding in slow, you wanted to dominate the guy, not hurt him. Inch by inch, you sank in, bottoming out with your balls against his. Jonathan cried out, fists clenching the couch. "So big... feels so good..." "Don't worry, sweet boy. M'gonna take care of you just like you need." Skin slapped against skin, his moans filling the room. You made sure the camera took the right photos, his ass taking you, your hand gripping one of his cheeks. He'd definitely have some material to look at later. You reached around, jerking his dick in time with your thrusts, making him whine "Feel so good, Jon." You praised, grunting whenever his hole tried to suck you deeper. "Gonna cum. Oh fuck." Jonathan whimpered, not even a few moments later as he finished on himself and the couch. "Shit- Shit" Your hips stuttered, hitting harder till you pushed all the way in, cumming hard inside him. You pulled out shortly after you two stopped twitching, watching as your cum leaked out before you snapped the photo. "This project is gonna be killer, Jon." You smirked, swatting his ass before helping him up and cleaning up. Jonathan just smiled, dazed and sated, already plotting the next roll of film between you two.

[headstone-thoughts]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 1000 likes!

Omg yall, seriously I appreciate this a lot ♡ more stuff coming. Life has been very hectic lately

[headstone-thoughts]

Stalker!Obsessed!Gator Tillman x Fem!Ballerina!Reader

Warnings/Notes: Solo/Duo Masturbation, Stalker, Teddy-Cam, Perverted Gator, Perv x Perv, Stalker, Stalker gifts, idk what else to put

Word count: 1092

You were a famous Ballerina, originally starting on TikTok till an actual agency scouted you. That was three years ago, now you played on the big stages. Traveling around the US, but mostly in Wisconsin and Michigan due to the popularity and bigger money hauls. Sure, all famous people had fans, but sometimes idolization becomes obsession. You thrived off of it like a sick bastard, especially when they were gifts from someone called Gator Tillman. He was a huge wonder to you, nothing on the internet about this guy at all! The two of you had never met, yet the poor guy was always sending you things or letters. Gator always ended his letters with 'Im coming for ya.' Yet hasn't shown up. It had been a solid year now of gifts from him and you loved each one. Flowers, Letters, Chocolates you mentioned once in an interview, Stuffies, or even new ballet shoes. Gator spoiled you in ways no man did, and you ate up every gift cause how could you not?

"Madam, you have a new gift from your favorite." One of the makeup crew smiled before helping you get off the stubborn colors of tonight's show. Gold, black, and white smudged before fading with each wipe and soft spray of water. "Hm, Mr. Tillman sent me something again?" You could see the Teddy Bear on the couch, pale tan with a lavender bow. It wasn't cheap, that was more than obvious. "Yes ma'am. When you finish changing there's a car to take you to your Airbnb, its the one you requested." The girl helped unlace the back of your performance costume, this one being a lovely Swan Lake themed costume and you and been chosen to be the Black Swan. Once the makeup crew finished and left you to your own devices, the Teddy had to be examined. "Hi, cute thing." You murmured, picking it up and moving it all around. You focused on the eyes and nose, nearly giving up after a few minutes till you caught the lens of a mini camera in the right eye. You hummed, smiling as you set it back down. Gator wanted to watch? Well, he'd get his own private show. At first you simply rambled to yourself as you got your small bag packed, grabbing the bear on the way out for the Airbnb you rented. The Airbnb was cold and dark, just how you liked it. "Mr. Ted, you'll be on my stand till you get cleaned." You smiled at the bear, setting it on the TV stand across from your bed. Gator himself was at home, scrolling around on his laptop till the bear connected back to wifi. Bingo. Through the eye-cam he could easily see your room and oh god you weren't wearing any fucking thing. The cold air bit at your skin, raising goosebumps across your thighs and breasts as you stood in the middle of the mostly dark bedroom, the lamp on your nightstand being the only light to show off your curves. You knew he was watching. You could feel it—the weight of that tiny lens, the hungry gaze of a man who’d never touched you but already owned every inch of your body in his mind. You turned slowly, letting the pale light trace the curve of your spine, the swell of your ass. Then you faced the bear head-on, hands sliding up to cup your own tits, thumbing the nipples until they peaked hard. A soft, breathy laugh escaped you. “Like what you see, Gator?” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, but loud enough for the microphone hidden in the bear’s chest to pick up. “You’ve been awful sweet, sending me all them gifts. I figured you deserved a proper thank you.”

You let your hands drift down your stomach, fingers splaying over your hip bones, then lower. The first touch to your pussy made you gasp—you were already slick, the thrill of being watched made you burn hotter. You circled your clit with two fingers, slow and deliberate, imagining what'd you'd think Gator’s hands would feel like instead of your own. “Bet you’re hard as a rock right now,” you purred, sliding to lay in bed, eager to let your cunt and ass slide up into the air. “Go on, Mr. Tillman, touch yourself. I want you to fucking feel it while you watch me.” You nearly moaned, two fingers sliding inside, where the Teddy cam would catch it. States away, in his room, Gator sat on the edge of his bed, laptop open, cock already freed from his jeans. He stroked himself in time with your fingers, sweat beading on his brow, jaw clenched. “That’s it, baby,” he hissed under his breath, eyes locked on the screen. “Show me that pretty little cunt. Let me see you make yourself come.” Granted, you couldn't hear him, but he liked to imagine that you did. You fucked yourself with two fingers, then three, moaning openly now, knowing he could hear. “You like that? You like watching me?” Your voice hitched as you curled your fingers, pressing against that spot inside that made your eyes go fuzzy, “I thought so. That’s why you keep sending them letters, huh? ‘I’m coming for ya.’ But you never show. You just watch like a-oh my god- like a pervert." You came with a sharp cry, body arching off the mattress, pussy clenching around your fingers. Slick dripped down your palm as you painted, getting your own brain back sorted before you sat up, facing the teddy so Gator could watch you lick your pretty fingers clean. "Hope you liked your own private show, Gator. Maybe one day you can actually come for me." In his room, Gator came with a guttural groan, ropes of cum splashing across his stomach and the keyboard of his laptop. He leaned back, panting, and wiped his hand on his jeans. A slow, wild grin spread across his face. "Oh yeah, I am definitely coming for you. One way or another." The bear’s camera stayed on, recording your every breath and movement as you padded off to shower and change, grabbing the teddy to put it on your nightstand. "Night, Mr. Tillman. Don't hurt your dick too much to the replays of what I did for you." You smiled at the bear, turning your lamp off before turning over to sleep. And in the dark, Gator started planning his next gift—something that would let him get even closer.

[headstone-thoughts]

I promise im alive and well, life has been...well Hell. Working, im planning a party, and im nearly always broke cause my work refuses to pay me enough lmfao. The requests are being worked on! I promise ♡

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[safk-art]

🔞uncensored version bsky and twitter

[Patre0n] [instagram] [Twitter] [BluSky]

[chrisssiren]

TRANSLUCENT RUFFLE && BOW DIVIDERS

⟢ decided to make fruit colored ones >< «part two»

WATERMELON

RASPBERRY

STRAWBERRY && CHERRY

BANANA

BLUEBERRY

GREEN APPLE && LIME

⟢ Like/reblog if you use.

⟢ Credit is not necessary (but it’s appreciated).

[headstone-thoughts]

CG!Dennis Whitaker x AR!M!Reader

Notes: This isnt sexual, pure fluff cause Denny would be an amazing Care Giver to his partner

Word count: 789

Dennis was still very new to being a CG, but oddly he found it fulfilling for you and his relationship. You weren't always His Tiny, obviously, but whenever you were Dennis was happy to know you trusted him enough to be this vulnerable. When he gets home from work, he's automatically greeted with the site of you in one of his hoodies and boxers, coloring on the coffee table while Bluey was on the TV. "Hi, babyboy. You coloring?" Dennis gets his work shoes off before he's sitting on the floor beside you. "Was today hard, Tiny? Need anything?" "Today sucked. No, papa, Don't need any'fin. M'good." You mumble, coloring in an LPS coloring book. "Well, I'm gonna go make us some dinner. Would you like nuggies and mac&cheese, or are we feeling a homemade pizza, baby?" "Oh oh! Pizza!" You were already up and following him to the kitchen. Dennis chuckled softly when you perked up, already padding after him like a shadow. "Pizza it is,” he said, glancing over his shoulder just to make sure you were still there. You were—hovering close, sleeve covering your hands, eyes a little brighter now. He r eached out, gently tugging your sleeve up just enough to lace his fingers with yours. “You gonna be my little helper, or you just here for moral support?” “Helper,” you said quickly, even if you didn’t sound entirely sure.

“Helper,” he echoed, nodding like that was the most important job in the world. “Alright. First task—stand right there.” He pointed to a safe spot by the counter. “No touching the oven. It bites.” "Papa, it bite?" You gasped a little, eyes wide. “Mmhm. Very rude appliance,” Dennis said seriously, already pulling ingredients out. “But it listens to me, so you’re safe.” his words draw a giggle out from you, a sound he always loves to hear. “Can you grab me the cheese?” he asked after a moment, keeping his tone calm and steady. You hesitated, looking at the fridge like it was a big task, really debating if you'd actually help or be his shadow. Dennis didn’t rush you, just leaned back against the counter, waiting. After a second, you shuffled over, opening it and grabbing the bag with both hands. “Good job, babyboy,” he murmured as you handed it over, brushing his fingers against yours for a second longer than needed. “You’re doing so good.” "M'good?" "Very good. The bestest boy."

The kitchen filled with quiet sounds—dough being rolled out, the hum of the oven, the soft cartoon voices from the TV in the other room. You stayed close the whole time, occasionally leaning into his side, occasionally just watching. As you both waited for the pizza to finish, you leaned heavier into his back. "Tired, hun?" Dennis asked, eyes on some random video on his phone. "A little." you responded, words sounding more adult. “Yeah?” he said softly. “That’s okay. You did a lot today.” Dennis didn't have to know what happened, you said it had sucked and that was all he needed to know. “You did really good helping. I'm very proud of you." the praise rolled over you, soothing a deep ache. “…‘m not that little,” you said after a moment, voice small but different. The shift back to your normal headspace. Dennis didn’t react abruptly. He just nodded, still holding you the same way. “I know you’re not.” You leaned back just enough to look at him, blinking a little like you were coming back into yourself as he faced you, his hands coming to your hips, thumbs rubbing the skin above your boxer band. "I'm sorry, I got home and I don't know what came over me. Today was ha-" “Hey.” His tone was gentle but firm as he cut you off. “No apologizing for that. You’re allowed to have rough days. You’re allowed to need me.” The reassurance and the look in his eyes comforted you more than he'd ever know. Dennis brushed his thumb under your eye—not that you were crying, just… checking. “You back with me?” “Yeah,” you said, more clearly this time. “I am.”

He smiled, softer now, adjusting with you instead of pulling away. “Okay. Then you can help me decide something important.”"And that is?" you smiled, loving the little bit of mischief in his eyes. He leaned in a little, lowering his voice like it was a secret. “Do we still want pizza… or are we stealing cookies while it bakes?” You huffed a quiet laugh, "Hell yes we're stealing cookies." “That’s my boy,” he said warmly, nudging you toward the counter. “Grab the cookies.” Just like that, the day was better than it had started.

[headstone-thoughts]

Hey my little freaks! I have a Submission Request Form! Thats right here ♡

[headstone-thoughts]

Step dad billy?

Scenario !! Protective step dad billy, and his rebellious step son reader !(Trans ofc cause it makes me feel seen and so happy)

Reader hates that his mom married billy, and so became more of a pain in the ass. For months they go back and fourth with billy trying to bond with the reader but the reader refuses. Reader sneaks out to go to a party and eventually gets caught drunk out of his mind by step dad billy. So step dad billy decides to teach him a lesson (spanking and CNC? 👀👀)

Then reader wakes up next to billy and freaks out but eventual fluff and readers mom so oblivious that her husband is fucking her son behind her back. Wondering why her dear husband dosent wanna touch her

This is so detailed oh lordss

-📞

I did the best as I could, I hope you like it ♡ I missed it over here on Dark Fic Tumblr

Warnings: CNC, Spanking, Intox kink, StepdadxStepson, Trans!Reader, Reader is a brat, Reader is 18 btw <3, Use of Daddy/Dad/Son

Word count: 1279

Your mom had met Billy two years ago, dated for a solid year before they got married. She had hoped to get a happy picture perfect family, fuck was she wrong! Billy himself had been hoping to finally settle down, even though you weren't biologically his son. Instead of kind and proud words between you two, it was slammed doors and snide remarks. He's tried everything! He bought you a better binder, he'd make protein drinks cause he'd hear you complaining over not having the right muscle mass. It never worked. Billy sat in the dim living room, nursing a beer, his broad shoulders tense under his faded t-shirt. He'd been waiting up, as he always did when you snuck out. God knew where you were tonight, which was a fucking high school rager. A single text from another parent with a warning was all Billy needed to go after you. Your mom had been out from a girls trip, a bachelorette party for her best friend. Billy grabbed his keys, jaw set in aggravation, you'd learn a lesson tonight.

It took Billy a solid twenty minutes before he found the party, deep in the woods near a lake of all places. What if you drowned? What if someone made you drown? It took another ten before he found you, slumped by a tree, drunk and glassy-eyed. "C'mon, kid," Billy muttered, hoisting your arm over his shoulder. You mumbled something incoherent, his lithe body sagging against Billy's solid frame. The start of the ride was quiet besides your slurred protests as you glared at him drunkly. Billy parked the truck on a dark trail. "We gotta talk, kid. You can't keep doing this." Your slumped in the passenger seat, head lolling against the window, the scent of cheap beer and sweat clinging to your clothes. "Whatever, man. Just take me home," he slurred, but your eyes flicked to Billy's profile— the strong jaw, the broad hands gripping the wheel even now that they were stopped. Billy turned, reaching over to shake your shoulder gently. "Look at me. You can't keep pullin' this shit. Sneakin' out, gettin' wasted— you're gonna get yourself hurt." You shoved his hand away, smirking with cocky drunkenness. "Not your problem. You're not my dad." That snapped something in Billy. He lunged across the console, grabbing you by the collar and hauling you closer. The cab felt smaller, charged. "Maybe not, but I'm responsible for you now." With a rough yank, Billy pulled you halfway into his lap, legs tangling awkwardly. You struggled, fists pounding Billy's chest, but the alcohol dulled your fight greatly. Billy pushed you over his knee— or as close as the truck seat and console allowed— peeling down those jeans and boxers in one swift motion. The cool truck air hitting your exposed ass, revealing the hidden warmth of your pussy and bottom growth. The first spank echoed in the confined space, Billy's palm cracking against bare skin. You yelped, bucking wildly in protest. "Stop! Fuck you!" Another strike, harder, turning the flesh pink under the dim glow of the overhead light Billy flicked on. Billy held you firm, one arm across your lower back, the other delivering punishment— smack after smack, each one building heat, making your pretty thighs quiver. "This is for actin' out," Billy growled, his free hand rubbing the stinging skin roughly before landing the next blow. Your protests turned to whimpers, body arching involuntarily, pussy lips parting slightly with the motion, a slick sheen betraying his arousal. Billy paused, two thick digits dipping lower to feel the wetness and your t-cock swollen. "See? So much, right? Do you feel good, sweetheart?" you didn't have to verbally answer, the way your cunt went tight around his two digits said enough.

"Get up, daddy's gonna make it all better. Don't worry your drunk little head about it." Billy coo'd, helping you sit up midway on your side and the console before he moved his driver seat all the way back so you could sit in his lap. "You gonna be good for daddy?" the question was a murmur but you obeyed, getting your bottoms off fully. Your hands go to his shoulders as he took control. You didn't see it, but Billy unzipped his jeans, his cock heavy and veined before he tapped it against your opening. "Daddy's got you." Billy didn't wait to slam in. The tight heat enveloped Billy's cock, your pussy clenching around the intrusion. "S'tight, daddy." your slurred, hips rolling to meet his, a hand going to your t-cock to stroke the little bit you had. Billy groaned, watching as the attitude slowly drained from you. From the outside, the windows were foggy and rocking but it was too dark to see it from the main road. "Take my cock, baby. Learn the lesson." BIlly's words and now his own hands helping you move was making a knot in your gut get tighter. Your soft maons grew louder, the haze of the cheap beer you drank making you sloppy but you really couldn't care. Sadly your orgasm came without warning, clenching Billy's dick like a vise so he kept going til his own orgasm flooded your cunt. His fluids leaked out around him, dripping to your thighs and his seat. Once Billy felt himself soften slightly, he pulled out, but letting his mind get back right before he moved anymore. You let your head fall to his shoulder, sighing softly yet not getting off. Your hands roamed his shoulders before dipping under his night shirt, feeling each line of pure muscle. "What're you—" Billy started, but you cut him off by grinding down, your slick cunt making his half-hard cock more of a mess and harder. "More," you breathed, hands roaming— one cupping Billy's neck, the other sliding down to shove his fat tip into your abused cunt. Billy's hands settled on your waist, steadying him. "Kid..." but you leaned in, lips brushing Billy's ear. "Dad," you murmured, the word slipping out like a confession, soft and needy. Billy froze, then groaned, the title hitting him like a punch. "Say that again, sweets." you did, bolder now— "Dad, please. Fuck me again." Billy lifted you slightly, guiding you down onto it, both moaning as he sank deep.

This time, it was slower, he let you set the pace— bouncing, grinding, hands everywhere; clawing Billy's shoulders, tugging his hair, even slipping under his shirt to pinch a nipple. Billy thrust up to meet you, hands gripping ass cheeks, spreading them as he drove in to help. "That's it, son. Ride your dad." your pussy clenched at the words, slick sounds filling the truck as you moved faster, chasing release. You came first and harder than the last time, "Fuck, Dad!" You couldn't help but be loud. Billy followed, flooding you again, holding tight as y'all rode the waves. Afterward, you slumped against him, grabby hands turning tender, tracing lazy patterns on Billy's chest. "Don't tell Mom," he whispered, a shy drunk smile breaking through. Billy kissed your forehead, starting the engine. "Our secret." The two of you got dressed and Billy started the drive home, you dozing lightly in the passenger seat.

The next morning, you didn't wake up in your bed, but in Billy and your mom's bed. The events of last night flashing in your mind vividly to be a sex dream. Billy was still snoozing beside him, but the weight of a muscled arm over your hips made you relax. "Is g'nna be okay." Billy hummed, pulling you back to him once you settled back down. "I got you. Always will have you."

[headstone-thoughts]

Heya...it's been a while...billy CNC? But like it's billy on his stepbro reader 🥹

The story goes, billy brought reader to their first party and they went all out and during the party billy watched as Tommy Hagen started flirting with reader saying "it isn't gay if you were a girl before" type stuff and billy gets upset and then they do it in the back of billy's car ?

-📞

Oh I missed you! Life has been life lately so writing for my Dark Blog has been a bit rough. I will absolutely get one this as fast as I can, 📞.

Cigarette Burns

Billy Hargrove x Trans!Stepbro!Reader

Warnings: CNC (free-use kinda thing), Billy's always territorial over you, reader will be called female things for the sake of the ask, reader will be told certain things that'd hurt, Hurt/Comfort, car sex, Billy's gonna burn reader again but reader gets to do it back, blood mentioned, fighting

Word count: 1169

Billy had finally had enough of your begging over going to one of Tommy's parties. You were already on your second drink, so still very aware of people and things. Billy, oddly enough had refused to drink at all, a fake excuse that he was trying to quit after the Mind Flayer situation. You didnt question it. "Hey, doll. Imma go talk to Harrington. I'll be back." Billy's lips brushed against your ear before he was gone. The music was thumping and everyone was sweaty cause Tommy refused to open a damn window. "Hey pretty thing." A solid body slid against you. At first you had assumed it was Billy, but the stench of beer made you realize it was Tommy himself. "Hey Tommy." You greeted, trying to make some space but Tommy refused. His hands clamped at your hips, making your ass stay against his hips. "We should go up to my room. We'd have so much fun." "Uh yeah, no thanks. I have a partner anyways." You gritted. "Oh come on, you're still a girl below belt right? It wouldnt be gay for me at least. Pussy is pussy." Tommy chuckled, rolling his hips as if he had much to grind.

"Hey Tommy?" Was all the warning he got till Billy was slamming a fist into the sode of his pale face. The music dulling, other people watching. Billy adjusted the cigarette in his mouth, knuckles cracking. "Touch him again, see what happens, Tommy. I fucking dare you." Sadly the fuel of people cheering and the booze Tommy had in his system, he was already up and slamming Billy down to the floor. You groaned weakly, the small buzz you had fading as your sweet partner beat the absolute dog-shit outta Tommy.

He grabbed Tommy by the collar, slamming him against the fridge, knee driving into his gut. Billy punched him square in the nose, cartilage crunching. Tommy swung wildly, grazing Billy's cheek, but Billy dodged and countered with a hook to the ribs, then another to the face. Blood sprayed, Tommy crumpling to the linoleum as Billy loomed over him, chest heaving. "He's mine, you piece of shit. Stay the fuck away." The crowd parted, some cheering, others backing off as Billy straightened, wiping his knuckles on his jeans. He turned to you, eyes wild, possessive fire burning in them. Without a word, he grabbed your wrist, hauling you through the throng toward the door. "Billy—" you started, but he cut you off with a glare. "Shut up. We're leaving." The cool night air hit you as he dragged you to his Camero parked crookedly on the lawn, shoving you into the back seat before climbing in after, slamming the door. The engine roared to life before he was peeling out towards y'all's usual spot for alone time.

Once you two were parked, he didn't hesitate to join you in the back. :He touched you," Billy growled, hands rough as they yanked your shirt up, exposing your binder. His fingers clawed at the edges, ripping it off in one violent tug, your small chest heaving under his gaze. "That fucker thought he could put his hands on what's mine." Jealousy twisted his features, making him look feral as he crashed his mouth against yours, teeth nipping your lip hard enough to draw blood. You gasped into the kiss, a thrill of fear and want mixing in your gut. Billy's been this rough before, but he didn't always test the limits. He ground his hips down, his hard cock straining through his jeans against your thigh. "You let him get that close? Huh? Were you gonna spread for him, let him fuck that pretty little cunt because he said it wasn't gay?" "No—Billy, I didn't— I'd never-" Your words choked off as his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your vision spot, breath hitching. He smirked, thumb pressing your pulse. "Liar. But I'm gonna remind you who owns this body." He unzipped your jeans with one hand, the other still choking lightly, yanking them down your legs along with your boxers. Your cunt was already slick, folds parting as cool air hit you, clit throbbing under his stare. Billy freed his cock, thick and veined, pre-cum beading at the tip as he stroked himself once, roughly. He lit a cigarette from the dash lighter, inhaling deep, the cherry glowing orange. "You need marking, pup," he muttered, exhaling smoke over your face before pressing the lit end to your inner thigh, just above your knee. The burn seared, pain blooming hot and sharp, making you arch and cry out, a red welt forming instantly. "Please mark me back." Billy kissed the burn while you grabbed the lit ciggy. He freed your throat of the pressure, waiting with a burning passion. "It hurts when you burn me." You mumbled before shoving the cherry red embers into shoulder skin that peeked from his muscle tee. "Fuck." He grunted, his cock twitching against your thigh. You tossed the ciggy out the window, going to grab his cock to line him up, but he refused. He knocked your hand away, positioning his cock at your entrance, the fat head nudging your slick folds. With a brutal thrust, he buried himself balls-deep, stretching your walls around his girth. You yelped, nails digging into his arms as he started pounding, no prep, just raw force. "Feel that? That's me claiming what's mine. No one else gets this tight pussy—not Tommy, not anyone." His hand returned to your throat, choking again, hips snapping harder with each jealous word. "He thinks he can touch you? I'll fuck you so full of my cum, you'll be leaking me for days. Breed you like the slutty boy you are—fill that cunt till it's dripping, make sure everyone knows you're taken."

The dirty talk hit like fire, your body betraying you as you clenched around him, pleasure coiling despite the roughness. He fucked you deeper, angling to grind against your clit with every slam, the car rocking on its shocks. "Say it—say you're mine," he demanded, choking tighter for a beat before easing, his free hand pinning your hip to take the force. "All yours, baby." You whined, thighs clenching as your legs pulled him closer. "Good pup. Gonna knock you up, sweetheart—pump this pussy so full you can't walk straight tomorrow." His rhythm faltered, cock swelling as he chased release, choking you one last time to tip you over. You came hard, walls milking him, cunt gushing around his length. He followed with a roar, thrusting deep and unloading, hot spurts of cum flooding your insides, breeding you just like he promised. He collapsed over you, both panting, his hand stroking your throat soothingly now. Cum leaked out as he softened, but he stayed buried, kissing the marks he'd left. "No one's taking you from me," he murmured, voice rough but sated. "No one, never ever." You murmured, content.

[headstone-thoughts]

I promise 📞, that ask is being written up 💜 life has been very very busy lately

[headstone-thoughts]

If anyone would like to join mg discord server, please do comment and ill send you an invite through private messages ♡♡

[headstone-thoughts]

Trans!Eddie x Stepsister!Reader

Warnings: Bottom growth (obv Eds has female parts), Stepsibling relationship, tribbing(?), Eddie wears a binder, Cunt and boycunt used, clits, Soft Dom/Brat

Word count: I stopped worrying about this tbh

You've been on Eddie's case all damn day, ever since breakfast when you snapped at him for hogging the coffee. It's not like you hate him—your stepbrother's always been the chill one in the house, with his wild curls and that perpetual smirk—but something about his easygoing vibe pisses you off today. You roll your eyes every time he enters the room, mutter snide comments under your breath, and even "accidentally" bump into him in the hallway, shoving a little harder than necessary.

By late afternoon, Eddie's had enough. You're lounging on the couch in the living room, scrolling through your phone, when he strides in, his black binder hugging his chest under a loose band tee. His jeans are unbuttoned at the top, like he's been too restless to fix them properly. He towers over you for a second, dark eyes narrowed, before grabbing your wrist and yanking you up. "What the fuck, Eddie?" you hiss, trying to twist away, but his grip is firm, not bruising—just enough to remind you who's stronger. He's a soft dom and guy at heart, but right now, that softness has an edge, like velvet over steel. "You've been a real brat today, haven't you?" he says, voice low and steady, pulling you toward his bedroom down the hall. The door clicks shut behind you, and he backs you against it, his body pressing close. You can smell his faint soap and sweat, feel the heat radiating from him. "Poking at me like I'm some loser you can't stand. Time to make it up to me."

Your heart races, a mix of defiance and thrill bubbling up. You're a switch, yeah, but his commanding tone flips that bratty switch in you to something needy. You shove at his chest half-heartedly. "Make it up how? You're not my boss." He chuckles, dark and promising, and guides your hand down to the front of his jeans. Under the fabric, you feel the swell of his bottom growth, already tight from the friction of the day or maybe he had pumped his t-cock till he was satisfied. "On your knees, stepsis. Show me how sorry you are." The taboo word hangs in the air—stepsis—like a spark to dry tinder. You hesitate, but his hand on your shoulder presses gently, insistently, until your knees hit the carpet. He unzips slowly, shoving his jeans and boxers down just enough to free himself. His trimmed bush frames the sensitive nub of his boycunt, already flushed and erect, a sign he had indeed did prep-work, glistening slightly at the tip. No binders down there, just raw, real want.

"Suck it," he orders softly, threading fingers through your hair, not pulling—yet. You lean in, bratty even now, flicking your tongue out to tease the underside first. He groans, hips twitching forward. "Don't play games. Take it in your mouth." You obey, lips wrapping around the firm length of his growth, sucking lightly at first, then harder as his taste floods your senses—salty, musky, all him. Your tongue swirls over the tip, tracing the ridge, while your hands grip his thighs for balance. Eddie rocks into your mouth, slow and controlled like he waa fucking your mouth with a bigger cock than he had, his binder rising and falling with quick breaths. "That's it... good girl." You hollow your cheeks as best as possible, letting him fuck your face at his pace. Saliva drips down your chin, mixing with the slick from his folds below. His trimmed curls brush your nose with each grind of his hips, and you hum around him, vibrations making his thighs tense. He's soft about it, murmuring praises—"Fuck, your mouth feels so good"—but the dominance is there in how he holds your head steady, guiding you to take whatever Eddie decides to give you. Your own arousal builds, pussy clenching emptily as you kneel there, servicing him like the brat you are, finally paying for it. Eddie's breaths turn ragged, his free hand bracing against the door above you. "Gonna cum... keep sucking, just like that." You double down, lips tight, tongue pressing flat against the underside, and he shudders, a low moan escaping as his hips jerk, his cunt clenching around nothing as he rides it out—hot, pulsing release coating your tongue when it slides down to taste from his folds. You swallow around him, milking every drop until he softens slightly, pulling back with a gasp.

He hauls you up, kissing you fiercely, tasting himself on your lips. "My turn to make you feel good," he whispers against your mouth, stripping your clothes with efficient hands. Your shirt goes first, then pants, until you're bare, pussy already wet and aching. He sheds the rest of his clothes, binder staying on because that's how he likes it—flat and secure—revealing the soft curve of his hips and the slick mess between his legs. Eddie pushes you onto the bed, climbing over you, but instead of diving in, he positions himself so your legs tangle with his. Eddie shifts, pressing his core against yours—wet heat to wet heat, his growth still sensitive against your entrance. "Rub against me," he commands softly, starting the motion himself. His hips grind down, boycunt sliding over your pussy, clits bumping with electric friction. You arch up, matching his rhythm, hands on his ass to pull him closer. The trimmed bush scratches lightly against your smooth skin, adding to the raw sensation. Slick mixes between you, easing the glide as you hump together, desperate and messy. His binder presses into your chest, a reminder of his body, his truth, and it only makes the taboo hotter— your fucking stepbrother claiming you like this, soft dom taking what he wants. You whimper, nails digging into his skin, as the pressure builds. Eddie's eyes lock on yours, dark and intense. "Come with me, brat. Let go." The grind intensifies, his boycunt lips parting around your clit one thrust, then yours against his growth the next. Pleasure coils tight, and you shatter first, orgasm ripping through you in waves, pussy clenching against him. He follows seconds later, groaning your name like a curse and a prayer, his release soaking you both as he trembles.

You collapse together, panting, his weight a comforting blanket. He kisses your forehead, soft again now. "Better?" You smirk, bratty spark returning. "Maybe. For today."