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yummy
A yandere that, because you look awfully gloomy and lonely, decides to gift you a huge plush of themself.
You, who absolutely hates that plush (for obvious reasons) until you… don’t.
Don’t get me wrong, that plush is hideous. It’s one of those human torso-sized, huge, huggable, soft plushes that come out for famous anime these days. It’s so frustrating that when you poked it with your finger, it was really damn soft and would make a great cushion. However, the annoying, cutesy visage of your captor made in a toy style and the horrendous odor of their scent, which the plush seemed to have bathed in, are appalling enough not to care.
Although you turn it around towards a wall, so it’s not staring at you, it’s now a constant presence in your life even when you try to hide it upstairs when you get free access to all of the house. Your yan merely puts it back into your basement room, latest by the following day.
It’s not a secret that you are really fucking lonely in your basement prison, waiting all day for your captor to come back home so you can play happy family upstairs. It’s super depressing that you rarely catch enough sunlight to sustain yourself. Your whole life simply has no meaning other than being a captive, locked up, and forgotten in god-knows-where. But you warn yourself repeatedly that you haven’t sunk this low as to need a cuddly plush of your captor to keep you company. Even when it’s soft and huggable and at least doesn’t annoy you (because it can’t talk and can’t threaten you), you don’t. Need. It.
You know what it’s good for, though? Punching. You thought you got rid of your anger a long time ago, but it turns out punching and wrestling with the thing like a rabid dog is pretty good for your mental health. There are a lot of unreleased feelings stuck inside you, so… it takes a good beating for sure.
At least until your knuckles hurt and you finally feel the tears dripping down your cheeks.
You really tried to hate this plush—at least as much or even more than your captor. And it’s so fucking ugly, it still makes you want to puke. But when you finally give in and wrap your arms around it, it almost, really closely feels like a hug. It doesn’t suffocate you, but it is soft and understanding in your arms even though you just beat it into the ground, and it doesn’t blabber love confessions into your ear while it presses the air out of your lungs. When you hold it long enough, it almost has the faintest warmth to it, too, and damn. You did kind of need that, didn’t you? After so long, this is exactly what you need.
Of course, after that brief display of unintended affection towards that damn toy, you throw it into a corner and go hide away for a while to compose yourself, hating that you sunk so low. It makes you feel really fucking pathetic, and yet… well, it doesn’t have to lay face down on the cold ground. The plush can at least rest against a wall or something. It’s ugly, but it’s not the plush’s fault that it was created that way.
The timid glances you give it throughout the day until your captor comes home, demanding attention from you that you provide reluctantly to avoid the drama, are nothing but curious looks… you think. Even when you are hugged by a real person—too tight, too needy, too hard—you look over to your plush which was so different from what you have to endure just for the sake of peace. And at night, you undoubtedly wish to have no one bother you like your captor does… but the plush would probably be more comfortable if you had to choose.
Gradually, and as insane as it sounds, you begin to hang out more with the plush. Maybe you are losing your mind, but it doesn’t feel so weird anymore the more you do it. Let it sit next to you on a chair as you eat your snacks provided, or allow it to watch a movie with you (but only with an arm’s length distance between you two). It’s not the same as a real person, and it will hardly ever be able to replace that, but it grows on you in terms of companionship. It’s even a little bit of relief to talk to it about your worries and complaints, despite the plush not being able to change anything about what plagues you.
Nonetheless, it’s almost as if the plush makes living with the yandere a bit more endurable and easier. Perhaps your mood changed enough to soothe your captor; thus, they are much nicer and more attentive to what you want and need. It’s far away from perfect, but it’s not as hard as it has been before. Now, being alone, only with your plush companion, is much more of a relief rather than a punishment you have to sit out.
You even find some relaxation, cuddling, and using the plush as a pillow while doing anything really. With its softness, an afternoon nap now seems all the more enticing. Of course, you still refuse to admit all of this to your captor, but by the smug grin on their face, they already know that you’ve grown fond of the plush version of themself. The only time you get skeptical of the two is when the yandere decides to take the plush away for some time. “To check the stitches,” they say, but for some reason, you don’t believe them.
It makes sense that you wouldn’t know about the… devices they put into them. A bit of a camera behind the cartoonish eyes and an audio device in the ears. You came close to destroying them when you had your rage fit, but not enough for the yandere not to see your first time hugging the plush. Or the first time you let it sit on the couch with you. Or when you let it—and thus the yandere—watch you eat. It’s lovely to see you more relaxed and calm for once, with no arguing or complaining. No stiffness in your body and no forced agreeing like you do with the yan. Not even the yandere gets to see you eat without trying to hide or refusing in front of them, so this is a very special sight for them.
But what made them even happier was how openly you disclosed all those information about yourself. Suddenly you were talking about what you wanted and how to make you happy with the simplest things, like cooking dishes you craved or getting you new movies that you wanted to see. And what made it even more worth it was the smiles the yan now had on video and occasionally received in person after fulfilling your wishes, even though you were still shy about that. The plush helps feed their obsession, making it the best decision the yan ever made after kidnapping you.
Because fulfilling these wishes and pleasing you is almost as good as affection from you, a gentle moment worth a thousand words the yandere wants to hear from your precious lips, but you’ll never give them. Give them a smile, and you have them, once again, wrapped around your little finger, playing their heart like a fiddle. They don’t even have to be jealous since fulfilling wishes is the one thing the plush will never be able to do—but the yan can. So they feast on the little achievements, the little less wariness whenever the yandere does anything and the bit more leniency with how far you let your captor go before bringing out your claws.
And then, after you became comfortable with their replacement, the yan simply took some time off work so they could sneak into the basement and throw the plush out of your bed before slipping into your sweet embrace themself, experiencing for the first time ever what it was like to truly be loved and cherished by you, gently held in your arms.
!! Sexual Content below !!
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Our Reception
M!Eden x F!PC
You'd gotten married by completing a marriage license and sending it in. It wasn't required in your state to have a witness. Quite honestly, you were surprised Eden even had the proper documentation to complete the form. You knew he had yours. You vaguely acknowledged that you would not have a hand in filling the form out, nor deciding whether or not to get married but, nevertheless, you were elated.
His drive was fear. After an unfortunate and long hospital visit, he decided he'd never be left like that again. Unable to see you. Unable to make decisions for you. Unable to take you home until you were released. If anything was going to happen to you, he was going to be there.
Due to his motivation being so... practical, you expected nothing romantic. Perhaps some post-license sex. Maybe he'd cook you dinner. Or maybe you'd cook it together. That'd be cute, romantic even. But you knew him, after all, he was your husband.
But then, when you saw his smile when he had received a copy of your marriage license, you weren't quite sure you knew him. He'd just come in from trekking all the way to town, to his PO box, just for that license. Honestly, you had never seen him go in town so frequently, let alone during the winter. His cheeks and nose were red. Snow dusted his hair. His face was pure joy. You'd never seen him smile like that, so carefree. Lumbering over to you, he shows you the document. The license is slightly wrinkled from him holding it so tightly. There's your name, next to his, with your signatures beneath it. The hand holding the licenses is shaking, while his arm wraps around your waist.
You hadn't seen him this young looking in years. His mouth catches yours. He's being tender. Soft. It's romantic. It's not like him at all. But it certainly tastes like him. His tongue gently prods at your bottom lip until you allow him inside. Your shirt slides up as his hands slide across your stomach. Those hands which are encased in his soft leather gloves. Still cold from the outside, it makes you shiver. In response Eden moves his hands beneath your ass before pulling you up against his chest and carrying you to the bed. Your hands get tangled into his hair. You two crash onto the bed. A messy ball of limbs. He's tugging your pants off. Popping the buttons off your shirt by yanking it apart. One hand snakes around to your back, quickly unclipping your bra as the other fishes his cock out.
Before you know it, two gloved hands are holding your legs apart as his bare cock is sliding in and out of you. Granted, he never uses a condom. He's radiating body heat despite being fully clothed. He's taking his time, methodically fucking you. He's leaving hickies all along your neck, your collar bone, and your chest. It's almost painful how tightly he's gripping your thighs. Part of you gets a rush of sick pleasure from the thought of him bruising you.
One of his hands slides down and begins rubbing at your clit. In turn, your hips flex up to meet his touch. The heat builds and builds in you before he pulls away just before you reach your pinnacle leaving you whimpering. Raising his hand to his mouth, he laps up the juices collected on the gloves.
His rhythm stutters as he lets out a sigh of relief. Instead of pulling out and cumming all over your stomach, he pushes even deeper inside of you. His seed floods your womb. Slowly, he pulls out. The seed leaking out of you is pushed back in by Eden's fingers. Thrumming your clit with his thumb while he plugs your hole. A pressure builds in your stomach. His mouth crashes onto yours for another sweet, slow kiss while his other hand comes up to cup your cheek.
Finally, after he finishes you off he stops plugging your hole. After grabbing a rag to clean you up, he takes a minute to stare. The rag is tossed to the side as hands come down to spread your cunt open. To watch as it leaks down your thigh.
Finishing cleaning up, Eden sits you on his lap by the fireplace. You're wearing one of his old flannels when he lifts your left hand in his. There's a small gold ring wrapped around his ring finger, one that matches the ring he slips onto your finger.
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Can I pretty please get some soft fluffy little dating headcanons for syd? pure or corrupt! Thank you so much. Have a wonderful day <33
Pure!Sydney
They're so, so lovely.
-They adore your hair. You'll find them braiding it, running their hands through it, and softly apologizing when they catch their hand in a tangle. Sometimes after a long school day, or a long day at the church, the way they scratch your head makes you doze off.
-Dates are very traditional. Ice skating with hot chocolate afterwards. Movie theatre dates where you sit in the middle, not the far far back where no one can see you. Never starting after 7pm. You can never be home together without Sirris being within the house, and Sydney never locks the door. Not until you're promised. If you bring up being promised, a flush will start to creep up his neck. Their views on "procreation" typically is that it should be romantic, focused on creating children or strengthening your bond. Not for "frivolous" reasons, like pleasure.
-Gets you a promise ring 8 months or so after you guys make it official. It'd be simple. Maybe a gold plated band. It's dainty, lacking any jewels but theirs and yours initials are engraved on the inside. But you won't become "promised" till after you guys have graduated, after at least a year or so. Yeah, sure, you guys are head over heels for each other. He believes you guys are soulmates. Forever bound. The Creator put you in their path, and them in yours. But they're not irrational, and god forbid they ever end up like their parents.
-They're so in love with you. They begin having impure feelings. Impure, ungodly urges. Urges to feel all of you. Urges to tug on your beautiful hair, skim their fingers along your soft, delicate neck, maybe even see how it tastes. They want to know what all of you looks like. They want to feel the heat in-between your thighs. Feel your thighs clamp around their ears as they get to... "taste the forbidden fruit."
-These urges continue to drive them mad. They stay up late, hand jammed between their own thighs, massaging themselves over their bottoms until they feel release. When you finally become promised, it's like the flood gates have opened and they end up releasing almost 20 years worth of repressed desires.
-So many kisses. Every square inch of you has been kissed. Sydney kisses lightly. Lightly, as light as a feather. They've never risk truly acting out the urge to sink their teeth unrelentingly into your flesh.
-Public displays of affection are never an issue with Sydney. They don't mind holding your hand, or light kisses on the cheek. In fact, they adore it. They adore the way your eyes cast downward in embarrassment. The way you giggle when the marker starts brushing against your skin. But what they love even more is when you reach for them. When you reach for their hand, or when you brush your leg against theirs. It melts their heart.
-Sydney after awhile gets into the bad habit of sharing their food. They'll feed you bite after bite, even if you shake your head. They say it's because they think you're so cute when you eat. When they eat, they tend to take their time. Small spoonfuls, savoring every small piece of their meal. Except, sometimes you'll catch them staring at you in the middle of every meal. It drives you nuts.
Corrupt!Sydney
-Dates are typically something fun, even a little silly. Roller skating or ice skating in the winter, where they hold your hand as you cling to the wall and creep along the wall. Beach dates where you two end up sun burnt and fatigued. Their favorite kinds of dates though, are late at night. Watching the late night horror flicks, where the theatre is so empty you guys don't even have to hide in the back. Strolling along the beach, breaking into the changing rooms for the hell of it. In fact, he becomes surprisingly good at lockpicking.
-Instead of a promise ring, or being promised, he buys you a collar. Not a thick, heavy metal one. A simple leather one with a buckle. It matches a small leather strap around his wrists. His initials are carved onto the inside.
-His dream would be matching tattoos. He doesn't know what he'd want, but the idea of a permanent mark symbolizing him on your body drives him wild.
-PDA is something he's an expert in. You're on his lap as much as possible, with zero regards to location or who is around you guys. Fuck who stares. That's your place. Sydney develops wandering hands as well. He'll keep it to only squeezing and groping your thighs when others are in the library, but as people trickle out throughout the day his hands might end up somewhere else.
-He's not into the whole marriage thing, or promise rings, but if you kept your faith, he'd (slightly begrudgingly) participate. Even if you decide to save yourself for marriage. But if you think he'd completely abstain from pressuring you, or teasing you about it, you're wrong. He wants nothing more than to possess every inch of your body.
#dol#degrees of lewdity#sydney the fallen#sydney the faithful#dol sydney#dol pc#This took a long time because I have less than 2 cents worth of motivation so but here it is
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Christmas at The Farm
M!Alex x F!PC
Every year.
Every year, the entirety of Alex's family comes to the farm. All of his brothers and sisters, his parents, his nieces, nephews, aunts, cousins, etc. Let's just say, it was a lot.
This year though, there was also going to be you. It would be the first time you'd meet the whole family. All of them. Even the family pets come. They'd slowly trickle in throughout the day, with every new arrival causing a ruckus.
But it was heartwarming, watching them reunite as if they'd been apart for decades. All you could hear were exclamations of care and love. It was bittersweet for you, seeing something you've never experienced. This idea of unconditional family love, the idea of having someone, who even if it had been only a year, would greet you with love the intensity of a hurricane, made your heart tighten.
But, maybe, with Alex, it could be.
His siblings all arrived first, mainly to help prepare. They brought casseroles, pies, various smoked meats, and a variety of "salads." You don't know how marshmellows can be apart of a salad, but you're still not brave enough to question it. The children were sent straight out into the yard after meeting you, still bundled up with Alex promising them that there were still sleds in the shed. Alex's hand stayed wrapped around your waist or resting on the small of your back as he introduced you. After the children were sent out, and the adults settled, he leaned over, and asked if you liked your new nieces and nephews. But before you could answer, his mother arrived.
The matriarch of the family.
A stout woman, with reddened cheeks that matched her bright red hair. She even looked like a mom. String of pearls round her neck, and a seemingly hand knit sweater was layered over a floral green blouse. Her and Alex looked almost identical. He was the first to greet her, pulling you up by the arm. Sure, you'd met her before, but that was before, well, everything. You hadn't seen her since before Alex and you started to share a bedroom.
Since before he asked you to marry him.
It wasn't an immediate thing. Afterall, threats were still ever looming. You still don't have all of the in-laws names down pat.
The ring hung beneath your turtleneck, strung up on a chain. Part of your fear with announcing it was that his mother wouldn't approve. Sure, she approved of you as a partner for the farm. But as his wife?
as the mother of her grandchildren?
However, when she swept you up into a rib crushing hug, they seemed to be squeezed out of you.
#alex the farmhand#dol pc#dol alex#degrees of lewdity#dol#christmas in october#Anyways. If you're still reading these tags#I did take a hiatus because I got bored of the game for a bit#I;m in college#and my computer took a realllllllyyyyyy long time to arrive
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👁👁
Not me reading all your stuff and I'm forever down bad for your writing for Alex.
Alex is my absolutely fav love interest. I feel like that's saying a lot cause I've play dol since there was only Eden, Whitney, Robin, and sometimes Avery. I think it's funny since my Whitney and Sydney writes are the most popular. Coincidentally, Whitney as a love interest was someone I LOATHED. (he's a lot better now, a lot more dimensional.)
Eden used to be my favorite. I'm a sucker for people who do manual labor. I also do love the idea of being someone's "woman." However outdated THAT is. Alex spiked in popularity, but he's seemingly fallen to the wayside. Partially because the farm route is a lot of work. It's like a miniature game in of itself.
Kylar is currently everyone's favorite. Ireallyfuckinghatehim. You'll never find me writing for him. Never.
Sydney is my favorite early game route. I think his routes have a lot of content. It also adds a reason to go to school, as romancing him outside of it is seemingly impossible. Robin is okay. Has content, but not enough of him crossdressing and despite how long he's been around, I still feel like he's not fully developed or his potential isn't fully realized. I don't interact with the great hawk or the black wolf much.
Avery needs more content or events as well. Perhaps I haven't enraged him enough to see all of it though. I think it'd be fun to encounter him in the "rich people events" like dancing on danube, being sold by bailey for the first time, etc.
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Accidentally discover your Alex x PC story on here the Christmas and now I'm like
👁👄👁 I'mma read everything.
Honestly? I adore it when that happens. I do have another draft for an Alex Christmas event. I think it's depressing that there's no holiday events for the farm. It'd cure my back pain if one was ever implemented. I'd like to write more, and post more frequently but I do have a substantial amount of backlog. Kinda.
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Do you have any headcanons on what Wren, Alex and Whitney would be like in a relationship? I feel slightly ashamed I have so many ideas.
I have a lot, a ton, a million.
Male pronouns for the LI, female for the protag.
Wren is definitely not a good romantic partner, at least not at first. He's the type to want to sleep around. He'll always be apart from you with his jobs. But, holy fuck is he good at sex. You'll see him stare at others, driving you mad, however god forbid anyone even glances in your direction though. His fist will be connecting with their face before they can even look away. Wren's the type to need at least one part of himself touching you. Whether it's his hand on your thigh while he drives, or fully having you, sitting on his lap, in front of everyone he knows.
The Wren we see in game is young. I imagine him to be in his twenties, probably 25-28. But then, as he gets older, as you two settle down, he'll become the man you want. The kind that's always comes home to sleep in your bed. He's a tad old fashioned, wants you bringing him dinner every night. That's just how he was raise.
100% raised in the country. Few grades above Alex, probably went to school with their older siblings. Unpleasant childhood. His previous partners typically weren't serious, not like how he's serious with you. Every time Wren introduces you to someone new, you can tell if they've been together, carnally at least. It's all in the way they look at you. Whether it's how they look you up and down, evaluating your assets, or its how they always seem to "forget" your name. Nothing's ever gotten physical, perhaps only due to Wren's refusal to leave your side. Despite being constantly pulled away, when he's there, he'll want nothing more than to be with you.
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Alex. My favorite. They want to take it slow. Not quite virginal, but sometimes it feels that way. His previous partners don't come up much, but when they do, they're typically from high school. Silly little girlfriends that he never got quite to third base with. But a few of the construction workers are a tad too friendly with him, and the cute young waitress at the diner seems to be a little too excited to see him. While he never fully takes a day off, for your birthday, the day will always start late, end early. His presents are typically practical. He's not great with his words, and he's never been particularly romantic but he's always trying to be thoughtful.
From the moment you two entered into a relationship beyond just fucking and flirting, you were his. His woman, his wife. Forever and always.
He wants to provide for you. Take care of you. Even if he doesn't take a lunch break, yours always come on time. Even if you insist. Nothing short of you bringing it to him will make him stop working. Granted, he eats like a pig during dinner. Always wants seconds and thirds.
He's a little bit of an alcoholic. Sometimes if you've been out for the evening, you'll come home to a slurring partner. One that can't help but slip his hands into your jeans or up your shirt. Alex's libido is uncontrollable at moments. Aggressive. Hips pounding into you, handprint bruises on your waist. Hairpulling and name calling.
Alex does want kids. But, until you two fully get rid of Remy, he can't justify having them. His biggest fear is Remy scaring you off, or worse. Sometimes, after an attack, he ends up just staring at you. Slightly afraid, extremely grateful you're there.
(Alex saves his cowboy hat for more formal occasions or riding, whereas Wren wears his all the tip. Wear the cowboy's hat, ride the cowboy.)
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Whitney, my latest obsession. He's not the type to really do relationships. But he is, with you. Doesn't bring presents for holidays or your birthdays, but he'll remember them. Every Halloween, Valentine, and birthdays must be spent with him. Typically, presents, from you to him or him to you, are sexual. Whether it's your virginity for Christmas, or him eating you out for Valentines day. However, then you two graduate. You two move into a tiny apartment on the industrial side of town. Then, one Christmas, there's a present under the tree. It wasn't anything ornate or grand. Simply a necklace with his initial on it.
But it made you tear up a little bit. Made you two feel real, like the relationship just wasn't a fleeting fascination for him. You also cried over the guilt you had for not getting him a present. He was stumbling and stuttering, unsure of why you were crying. Years later he told you that he thought you cried out of hatred for the present.
From that point forward, there was always something under the tree. Or a box of chocolates waiting at home. And candles on the birthday cake.
He's never the touchy feely type. Honestly, his libido isn't egregious either. But when he wants you, best believe that he is going to have you. Even if he has to take it from you. You two have probably fucked in every bathroom around town.
Fights are explosive, emotional, over the top affairs that lead to slamming doors and cold, empty beds. But you two will always find yourselves back together. Maybe with a few sheepish apologies. You two haven't spent more than two nights apart since moving in together, and at this point, you never think you will.
Eventually, both of you will end up with a tattoo that signifies the other. He's a tattoo fiend. Only a few piercings. I'd imagine him as a mechanic.
#degrees of lewdity#degrees of cowboy#dol alex#alex the farmhand#dol whitney#whitney the bully#cowboy wren#dol wren
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M!Alex x F!PC
A month before Christmas, you came home to Alex standing on a 16 foot ladder hanging up lights. About overnight your rustic farm was turned into what you'd image to be a mirror image of the north pole. Garlands lined every banister, lights twinkled on rooftops, and little cult images of Mr. Claus and Baby Jesus stared at you from every angle.
It was completely ridiculous. Even a little concerning. But watching the childlike joy Alex had every time he came down the stairs filled your heart. It got you arranging poinsettias and hanging mistletoes.
The tree though.
It was huge. You two had went out into the woods, with the sole intent and purpose of picking out the perfect Christmas tree. Something full, that's a perfect forest green, with a nice point for the star. He bundled you up, thermals under turtlenecks under sweaters under the thickest winter coat you've ever seen. A pair of earmuffs. A pair of gloves beneath mittens. And of course, like 3 pairs of socks. He dismissed it as stuff his sisters left when they got married. However, everything fit perfectly, down to the thermals. The mittens matched your earmuffs, which complimented the coat.
And really, who would leave this nice of a coat at home?
He wore a few less layers than you, sticking to thermals, one turtleneck, and one sweater under his jacket. All that mattered to him was that he has his flask full, and tucked close to him. After grabbing a marker ribbon for the tree, you two set out to find your perfect evergreen.
However, as soon as you noticed how he started falling behind you as you two walked throughout the woods, you thought that maybe his prerogative had changed.
When you felt his hand around the back of your neck and another wrapped around your waist, you knew.
He had you propped up against a tree. The bark scratched at your back and the freezing wind made you shiver, even while being bundled up. Mostly. Your coat was unzipped, sweater pushed up above your ribs. He'd pushed your pants, the layer of thermals, and your underwear down your thighs. Agonizingly slow thrusts punctuate your moans. Tears start to well up in your eyes as he continuously edges you, trying to reach his own peak before he lets you come undone. The only sound for miles is your pleas to cum, his teasing laughter, and the obscene squelch of your cunt.
But as soon as his breath starts to sound forced, his thrusts start to pick up pace. Soon he's slamming into you, and finally; You're pushed over the edge. Alex stills as he releases his seed into you. A quick peck on the forehead before you're lowered onto shaking His hands have shifted from your thighs to one being wrapped tightly around your midsection as he pulls everything up, keeping "himself" trapped against your cunt. All he did was zip his pants, take a swig, and pull his gloves back on.
Then you two continue walking through the woods, hand in hand. When you finally found the tree, it was nestled between two scraggily ones. A "Balsam Fir" he said. Alex dropped your hand to wrap the marker around the tree. Part of you laminated the loss of warmth, regardless of the irrationality.
As soon as he finished, his hand was back in yours.
That night, as you two got ready for bed, all you could smell was pine, and a faint sweet hint of whisky.
#alex the farmhand#dol alex#dol pc#degrees of lewdity#christmas#dol christmas#The Farmlands!!#Christmas events better be released for everyone
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M!Alex x PC
It was a sudden downpour. There was no predicting it. All day, it was sunny without a cloud in the sky. Fuck, even the news said it was going to be clear skies for the rest of the week, let alone the day.
But now, here you two were. Him, sitting in a chair he dragged in from the living room, and you. You laying in a bed, half dressed. Half burning hot, half freezing cold. Currently, you were asleep. Your fever had gone down from last night, but he still didn't feel safe enough to leave you alone. What if you needed something? What if when you woke up, you were alone in the house and he was out in some field somewhere?
So, there you two were. A half eaten bowl of soup sat on the dresser along with a few almost empty mugs of tea. The thermometer hung from his hands.
You two were rototilling the field. It was a messy process, especially once that rain turned the soil into mud. Soon, tools were abandoned, and you two were rushing throughout the fields towards home. It took you significantly longer to get home. But still, both of you had gotten inside before it started thundering. Before the worst of the storm. The clothes you guys were wearing were still hung over the shower rod.
Any anxiety he had over your fever increased tenfold when arms outstretched pulled him into bed. How could he lose this?
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Minotaur.
You still remember the first time you met him. It will forever be ingrained in your psyche. Blood rushed throughout your veins. Your heart was beating out of your chest. All you could hear was the sound of you, hyperventilating. Your vision tunneled, the few things you perceived were horns,
horns that jutted out and curved, made of bone.
Then it was hands.
Massive hands that were toughened. Red and grey skin that was broken and littered with scratches.
Hands that were attempting to reach out and take you. To break you.
Finally it was the eyes. Eyes that met with yours.
they were not the soft eyes of a bull. Eyes without consciousness, just glazed and dark. Pure abyss. No, the eyes were an imitation of human eyes. It was an eye without an iris. Pure pupil.
After making eye contact, your flight response quickly kicked in. Before you knew it, you were sprinting away, narrowly avoiding crashing into thick stone walls, all while you hear him stalking behind you. Twists and turns, all of which looked the exact same led you to a dead end.
A flat, mossy stone wall.
His hands curled around your shoulders before shoving you against the wall. Something feverishly warm stuck between your thighs. At first you thought it was his thigh. But soon, realization shocks you cold. A grunt escapes his lips after your thighs clamp shut in fear.
Fuck.
It's dragged out from between your thighs, before being plunged back in. He lets out a long guttural moan before pulling back out. As he's building up speed, a slight hiss escapes his mouth before he repositions. Your face is still forced against the wall, rendering you unable to see anything going on. His hands reposition themselves, one gripping the back of your neck, holding you still, as the other snakes underneath your hips, propping you up. You're almost in a mating position, with your ass in the air. That's when he picked up the pace. Sliding his cock in and out of your thighs. His breathing was heavy as he coated your thighs with precum. The thrusts become more erratic. His breathing picks up pace along with now being accompanied by little grunts.
You're released from his grip as his cock was pulled out. You're barely keeping yourself propped up against the wall as his seed is released on your thighs. He shudders and sighs, riding out his orgasm before clambering off.
All that's left is you.
#nsft#cnc nsft#minotaur#mythical creatures#monster nsft#monster fudger#yeah i'll get back to the dol stuff#I just needed a break
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babes my computer broke, posts will be postponed till after friday since i cannot stand typing on a phone.
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I can't express enough how heartbreaking the fact that Spirit has this shitty remake is for me and so many Indigenous people. Spirit was literally the first movie I ever watch in my life when I was a little baby, and throughout my childhood I would always rewatch it.
The movie is more than a horse movie, it's about the violence and colonization done to Indigenous people, and how despite everything, we have an unbreakable spirit that no amount of colonization can ever tear apart. Cultures and communities fortified with love and strength that colonizers tremble at.
Spirit has scene that is LITERALLY an allegory for residential schools, he arrives at a place to see his kin forced in marching lines, has his mane cut, is left hungry, and is almost broken, but through sheer determination and passionate knowledge of who he truly is, he breaks free along with all the others.
Little Creek is his literal parallel, the real world reflection of what Spirit represents. But he is completely removed from this new movie.
This remake is the literal definition of white washing, no just in a drawing sense but in message too. It doesn't just change the appearances to be white but everything Spirit stood for, making it more palatable for white audiences. Making a once revolutionary movie that had such heart and passion in it to a generic dumpster fire.
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Could you write some smut with Wren and a trans male reader who didn't come to blackjack for some time due to chest removal surgery?
M!Wren x M!PC
His thumbs run along your newly healed scars. They're still bright red, it’s only been a couple of months since you’d seen him. It’d be too risky for the first few weeks, not wanting to rip anything open and the bruising plus swelling made you stay home. The way he’s touching you is making you shiver a bit.
As soon as he stripped you down, his first thought was to check if you still had any feeling in your chest. So far, the answer has been yes. But, just to be completely sure, his mouth continued to suckle at your chest.
The other guys watch on in jealous. Watching how Wren was making you squirm against his thigh. Listening to your moaning. Some were even palming at the ever-rising tent in their pants. But Wren wasn’t looking to share. You’d been gone for far too long.
When you had slid into your spot at the table, everyone was so welcoming. Everyone except Wren. He only grumbled out a hello, while the rest of the guys were all over you. Asking how you felt, where you’d been, and just generally chatting with you. But Wren wasn’t looking to do any of that.
Wren was looking to get you back into his lap.
So there you were. After a particularly intense, and hard game of blackjack, you were sitting in his lap, not a single piece of clothing on, grinding against his thigh. His hands had moved from your scars to your hips, and now were forcing you down further onto his thigh.
You could tell he was upset. Heck, you’d be upset if he had just up and left for awhile, no explanation. Theoretically, you could apologize. Make it up to him. But god, it felt so good to see him upset over you. To feel the finger print bruises forming on your hips. To feel his cock straining against you, to see the bulge.
He's whispering that you could of told him. Let him know where you were. How worried he was for you. How much he missed you. But you can’t respond at all, not with his cock down your throat. His hand gently grips onto the back of your throat as he thrusts up into your mouth underneath the table. It's obscene, the noises your throat is making.
You've now been subjected to cock warming him. Relaxed in his lap, juices covering your thighs, and half passed out on his chest. You're such a lewd sight, it makes his cock twitch inside of you.
He's still not sharing you. Even after he's had his fill. No way, not after you left him so dry, so lonely. Just longing for you to come back.
Nobody else can have you right now. Not his toy.
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Power Dynamic
Young!Eden AU.
M!Eden x F!PC
Shit.
Fuck.
Motherfucker.
This time, this time you had really screwed up. Just a couple hundred short, and now you're here but where even is "here"?
Memories of a bag over your head and rough handling flash through your head. You know that your back really remembers last night.
A spacious one-room log cabin, with barely anything there. You're laying on a huge bed, with furry blankets covering you. There's a dining table with only two chairs. A small wardrobe, a mirror, and a fireplace. Trying to sit up makes you aware of how you're chained to the bed.
The sound of blood being forced through your veins as your heart rate rises is overwhelming. This is a whole different level of terrified. You thought it'd be like last time. It was only $200 out of $2000. The cabin is so blank, your buyer must be a sociopath, or maybe this is a "vacation" home. Who would consider this empty cabin relaxing?
The sounds of footsteps, heavy footsteps, quickens your heart rate. You didn't even think that was possible. It feels like you're going to pass out from fear. But the only thing keeping you from just laying back down, pretending to be asleep, was curiosity. Who are they?
When you learn, it sends you into a shock-like state.
Just completely silent. Eyes glazing over. An inability to really focus. The only thought going through your head, is are you kidding me?
Here he is. After over a year of not seeing him. Here he is, your buyer. The man who locked you into this collar. The man, a man, who you feel like you don't know anymore. No longer a boy. His lip has a scar it didn't before, and another on his eyebrow. A ton litter his hands. What has he been doing? He dropped whatever he was holding on the floor, just to walk to the bed, and hold you.
His hands are shaking. But his head is buried into your neck.
Nuzzled up right against your collar. Before you're even aware of what you're doing, you're drawing lazy circles into his back with your hands. Gently combing through his hair. Tears drip down your face, and his tears soak into your skin. A sigh of relief knowing that he won't kill you, or torture you passes through your. But, why the collar?
As soon as you two have calmed down, you gesture to the collar and ask him to take it off.
The dark look that casts over his eyes terrifies you. He gently shakes his head no. After pleading and asking him why, he tells you that once he trusts you, he'll take it off. Its just to prevent you from running.
This is not your Eden. Your Eden would never lock you up like this. The Eden you know wouldn't buy random girls either. But do you really know him? Considering how he left you and your reunion. Sure, those are his eyes, his nose, his lips but is it really your Eden?
He's definitely bulked up since his time in the orphanage. Strong forearms. Thick, broad shoulders. Sturdy thighs. His hair is longer, way longer than before.
And when he pushes you down onto the bed, expecting a favor from you, that's when you know.
Your Eden is gone.
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Hello! Is there things you won't write for? And is there some characters you won't write? Thank you!
I won’t write gore, i won’t write anything about bowel movements. (including vomiting) Nothing about diapers, no pacifier stuff. No judgement if you enjoy these things, just not my type.
I don’t like writing for Kylar, but if someone requests something, i’ll do it. Especially if it’s interesting. Nor will i write smut involving the Black Wolf, as a wolf. Knotting is acceptable. Blood play is generally acceptable. Branding i’m a little ehhhhh about.
I do write smut! If you want a smut based post, just let me know in the request.
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