….’Give Your Son A Little Brother’

🧍 I do art and whilst my work is being really shitty at handling me and my coworker (we're severely understaffed, coworker is being worked to death meaning she's getting Ill a lot and that means I can't do work either because I'm an assistant) , I've now gotten two paychecks in the 3 digits when I should be making 4. I get no pay if the place doesn't open, id like to keep myself afloat and stable whilst I look for other work, it would mean a lot of you give me a browse or simply share

If anyone would like to check out my art on kofi, bluesky or Toyhouse. Feel free! Donations are welcome, I also do customs (custom ocs) I'll do furry or human.

Any form of support is much appreciated 👍

Examples of my work:

Pairing: Marcus Perez (oc) x AFAB! reader

(general) Warning: age gap (he's 50, reader is in mid/late twenties), virgin reader, inexperienced reader, daddy issues™, marcus is a dilf, daddy kink, angst, lots of food/baking, size difference, reader is not overly described but is implied to be skinny & small breasted, able bodied reader, hair length is not defined but will be mentioned, reader is feminine and AFAB but gender is undefined, Marcus drinks and smokes, eventual smut, slow burn-ish, series fic

Plot: Marcus seeks out a fresh start living the city life, renting an apartment above a small business bakery. That's where he met you. His sweet temptation.

Note: update schedule currently unknown.

Sunshine and whiskey:

Part 1 | ??? | ??? | ???

Regency? Royal? Fancy au? Idk, time periods are unimportant. Big bear men are what's important here

Mentions of mild feederism + breeding kink. Perhaps implied dubious consent? Implied age gap too

i developed brainworms at work

Duke who has been hardened with war. Lost good men in a noble fight for his king. Gifted a title grander than his status as a commoner born for his fight. For his leadership. A payment for the blood staining his calloused palms and bruised knuckles.

Perhaps he's widowed. Maybe he's got daddy issues. His possiblity for flavour is endless

Gifted a bride too. 'What an honor it would be!' they cried, insisting to marry off their unsociable child. The youngest. Getting to an age where they are deemed undesirable and whispers rise as still no ring sits on their finger.

Was it an honor when he now has a bride who squeaks when their eyes meet? Swallowing hard like cornered prey but then, oh then he finds it. The fight. The way your words spit out, high pitched and pinned in your throat. Words of protest. Refusal to do something. Accusing him of purposefully trying to frighten you.

When he moves too forward, acting as a commoner not as a Duke, to his new bride. Scandalized when he undresses so dully Infront of you as you bathe. He asked no permission to enter. It was his home after all.

A bunny with sharp teeth. A precious doe with sharpened horns. How precious. He'd find a way to file down those pointy edges of yours to get to the soft tender flesh beneath.

He wanted to provide. To give. He was a husband and man, after all. He grew restless without battle and no amount of labour around his own manor soothed that ache to be useful. How could he honour such a darling thing like his little bride without anything to claim, to conquer? To show how good of a life he can give.

I think what really gets him is when a maid comes to his office. Requesting a fund to get his bride new clothes - he, of course, asks why and he has to bite back a groan as the maid explains his little bride has gained weight. Explained it's obvious. Your clothes sit too flush to your belly now. Things must be adjusted or completely changed.

He chubs immediately under his desk. Almost delirious as he imagined the extra pudge now on your form. How good he's looked after you - so good that you've gained weight? He can only imagine just how plump you'd get once he successfully breeds his bride.

I'm celebrating every new fic that's added to the Guy nation

Now..... consider... ..hear me out..sex pollen that forces Guy and reader to finally confront all the tension that's been between them and having the most mind-blowing sex and waking up, pollen out of their system and Guy is just smug and grinning at you and you feel like you need a cigarette

Llet Eht Hturt

Guy Gardner/Reader Quick little truth spell flashfic while the idea is floating around in my brain, and to try and get some writing juices flowing.

“So, which of us do you think is the hottest?”

The question is playful, but invasive, considering the truth spell you’re currently hexed with. Guys not annoyed at Booster for asking it though; he’s just annoyed that he didn’t get there first. He doesn’t have time to scowl about it, however.

“Guy.” You answer instantly, mortification evident on your face. You close your eyes as if to block out the situation, but not before Guy catches them darting to look at him. “Asshole!”

"What?!" Booster laughs as you blindly reach out to slap his arm. “Guy?! No fucking way! What is it? The bowl cut? Does that do it for you?”

“It does.” You reluctantly confirm. “He’s sexy, okay. Sue me!”

He almost feels bad. He can tell by your tone of voice and the way you’re still refusing to look at him that you’re itching to put your foot in your mouth, but the spell won’t let you.

“He’s funny and smart and strong and every time I look at him my heart races and I will never forgive the next person who asks me about this.”

“Me included, sweetstuff?” Your whole body jerks when he puts his arm around you, wrapping it over your shoulder and pulling you tight into his chest. He really does feel bad, you’re already stressed as hell, without having your dirty laundry aired for all of your coworkers to see, but he’s equally overjoyed. “It’s alright. I always knew ya had a thing fer me, most people do. Nothin’ ta be shy about.”

The two of you had always had a lot of back and fourth, banter that usually revolved around him shamelessly hitting on you, and you acting like you’re not into it. For the longest time, he’d doubted his ability to read people, thought maybe he was projecting his own feelings back onto you, but he’d always suspected you were more into him than you let on, and now there was no denying it.

“Oh my god.” You murmur quietly into his chest. You’re radiating heat as you look up at him from between his pecs, a dire mix of frustration and tenderness clouding your expression before you nuzzle deeper into him, hiding from his smug face. Fuck, you’re cute. “Shut up.”

Seeing alot of people get devastated by the last of us season 2 and I'm kinda just over here as someone who decided to just simply not watch season 2. Gotta say...love my side of the fence coz I really don't wanna be sad rn. No thanks. I got depression, I don't need more sadness

I already know spoilers and tbh I just simply have no interest in what I know of the story. That's not really why I liked season 1 and got into the story and from the games, yeah I came here for humans healing and the cycle of life even after the world dies. Not murder spree McGee

Sorry for all the people who watched it or are watching it and getting in their feels. I will be staring at you from this side and throwing tissues your way. If you decide to jump over my side of the fence and join me I'm avoiding it all, we can watch something nice and eat food together. Maybe even sleepover

plagiarism. Again.

I'm not sure how old this person really is. Their blog says they're 22, but I think they might be much younger. But someone sent me a dm letting me know they stole my fic (as well as theirs), and when I reached out to them, they blocked me.

When I looked at their blog a little deeper, I realised almost all of their fics are stolen.

Do not engage with this person. Just make sure your work has not been stolen and block. They told someone else that the reason they took their fics was because of a "dare" and then told me they were going through a lot and just wanted to reblog my fic. Which is a blatant lie considering they then immediately blocked me and also tried to pass this off as their own by adding "if you dont like it go cry to mommy hoe also requested by vannthehacker910" and also changing my title.

mine:

a fic they stole from killsbil

and another they stole from mixes-archive

this is by sweet-as-an-angel

psa clint isn’t joel miller and if you’re flattening him into a joel archetype we need to talk about race again

i’m aware they both wear plaid, have a daughter, battle with grief, and are hot covered in blood and enacting violence

this isn’t a callout i just don’t remember where i saw these specific posts about the red handkerchief and clint as a ‘blue collar’ man. but i know i’ve seen plenty of clint = joel posts floating around. 

AND i wasn’t going to say anything bc i thought i was just being gatekeepy bc i didn’t wanna see clint get the dbf treatment which would be my personal problem and i can happily write about him on my own blog how i want etc etc and i know i don’t have to read anyone else’s takes BUT then i thought about it and once again…it’s always about race… re: the post i saw somewhere about someone having a head canon about clint having a red handkerchief as a snot rag - sorry i forgot where i saw it and this isn’t an attack on whoever wrote that, but an fyi to anyone thinking about him the same way… if you’re writing a latino man in 1987 oakland—especially someone working street-level jobs or tied to criminal economies—and you think a red bandana is just a ‘snot rag,’ you’re missing major context

fyi, in 1987, color politics were not optional if you were a man of color in california. even though bloods (red) and crips (blue) originated in LA, their color codes and the larger gang culture around them were already known across the state. in northern california specifically, norteños (tied to the nuestra familia prison gang) wore red. their rivals, sureños (tied to the mexican mafia), wore blue. 

who cares? well, even though oakland wasn’t dominated by bloods and crips the way LA was (in part due to the black panthers), it had its own street crews, plus a heavy norteño/sureño influence by the mid-80s. even outside organized gangs, the association between red and gang affiliation was strong enough that wearing a red bandana could get you profiled, targeted, or attacked—by cops, by other crews, or by random people trying to read your allegiance.

if you were a latino man in oakland in the 80s—like clint—you wouldn’t carry a red bandana by accident. it would be flagging. even if you weren’t affiliated. as a street smart guy, survival would mean being hyper-aware of how you present yourself, especially in neighborhoods policed by gang dynamics and racial profiling. cops would use color displays like a bandana as probable cause for harassment searches or worse during the height of the ‘war on drugs’ and the crack epidemic. 

characters like clint—latino, working-class, street-adjacent—would have understood the consequences of being read wrong. this doesn’t mean no one ever had cloths, handkerchiefs, or functional rags. it means the color and the way you carried it mattered: what pocket, what visibility, how deliberate it looked.

throwing a red bandana in your pocket wasn’t neutral. it wasn’t folksy. it wasn’t just blue-collar roughness. it was a risk, and survival was about reading the street, not walking through it like color codes didn’t apply to you.

clint wouldn’t casually rock a red bandana like a cowboy. latino men have never had the privilege of being casual about how they're read in public, especially not in a city like oakland, especially not in the 1980s.

re: clint as a ‘blue collar’ character there’s a difference between being ‘blue collar’ and being trapped in criminalized labor. wearing a plaid shirt and working with your hands doesn’t automatically make someone a blue-collar worker in the traditional sense. 

blue collar historically refers to wage labor—construction, manufacturing, trade work—where the worker is paid (poorly) but still operating within the boundaries of legal employment. union jobs. often unionized labor, tied to systems that, at least in theory, protected workers through collective bargaining, benefits, and job security. those protections were never equally available, especially to workers of color, but they existed as part of the larger working-class structure. 

clint’s labor isn’t protected. it isn’t recognized. it’s criminalized. he’s not just a man doing rough work for low pay—he’s disposable labor, surviving in a system that sees him as expendable from the start. calling him ‘blue collar’ erases the fact that he’s not inside the working class safety net. he’s on the outside, paying off debt with violence he didn’t choose.

it carries a specific context of class exploitation, yes, but it’s still different from the kind of criminal coercion characters like clint are caught in.

clint is not a proud working man making an honest living. his entire arc in freaky tales is about being forced into violent labor to pay off inherited debt he had no choice in. he is not rough and gritty because he chose a rugged life. 

he is rough because he was born into a system designed to keep him indebted, desperate, and expendable. he’s not working a blue collar job—he’s surviving in a criminal economy that feeds off people like him, using violence he doesn’t even want to enact just to stay afloat.

flattening clint into a vague ‘marlboro man’ archetype (joel coded)—rough clothes, kind heart, good intentions—it strips away everything sharp and painful about his actual story. it whitewashes the complexity of being a latino man criminalized by birth and survival, not by choice. it reframes his struggle as a generic americana fantasy about working-class virtue, when what’s actually at stake is how structural violence forces people into roles they never asked for.

especially when it’s a latino character, this flattening isn’t neutral. it erases the realities of racialized labor, racialized criminalization, and survival. clint’s tragedy isn’t that he’s a gruff tough guy with a soft interior. his tragedy is that he was forced to become violent in order to pay off a life he was never allowed to own, and he carries that weight without any guarantee of getting free.

you can’t understand clint if you don’t understand that. and if you’re not willing to sit with that discomfort, what you’re writing isn’t really him—it’s just a projection of a character he was never allowed to be.

clint and joel might overlap in aesthetics, being single girl dads, and physical strength—but reducing clint to a copy of joel misses everything that actually defines who he is, and why his story matters.

joel miller is a texas man—a man shaped by frontier mythology, southern survivalism, deep mistrust, and violent individualism. he is, by his own admission, a man whose grief and guilt hollowed him out so badly that even his brother was scared of him. he’s not just traumatized; he’s actively dangerous, closed off, and isolated. his story is about losing his humanity and clawing parts of it back, maybe too late.

clint is not that. clint is an oakland man—east bay, west coast, working-class and criminalized, not because he chose violence but because he was born into debt he could never pay off. he’s an underdog, not an antihero. 

he’s soft with his woman, he lights up under her attention. he’s goofy in the video store with the clerk. he’s not some hardened loner who scares everyone around him. he’s just a man trying to survive a system that was designed to use him up.

when you flatten clint into joel, you’re misreading two characters with different emotional cores and fetishizing the aesthetics of pain and ruggedness while ignoring race, class, place, and survival context.

clint isn't a texas cowboy. he’s not steeped in frontier violence or manifest destiny myths. he’s a west coast underdog who knows every step he takes could get him crushed, and he still tries to protect the people he loves without letting it rot him from the inside out.

the tragedy of joel is that the world took everything from him and he let it turn him into something colder, crueler.

the tragedy of clint is that the world gave him no choice- he says he was born into breaking bones to pay off his father’s debt, and he still tries to hold onto his softness anyway.

if you can’t tell the difference, you’re not seeing clint, you’re just projecting a fetishized joel trope onto another character… 

Green Lanterns Might

Pairing: Guy Gardner x AFAB! reader

Warnings: B.O/musk kink, manhandling, ALOT of teasing , dirty talk but I mean like, Guy gets FILTHY, this is the same man who canonically called his imagination fertile, he's gonna say cringe. Full Nelson position, brief headlock, creampie, Afab! Reader but gender is not specified, 'fem' nicknames given (dolly, doll, sweetheart, babe), reader is a brat, reader has hair but texture/ length/style is unspecified, hair tugging, alot of sniffing, boob fondling, abit of cock worship, ball-sucking, M! receiving oral, fingering, mirror sex - kinda, squirting, surprisingly fluffy

I WILL BE WRITING GUY HAVING A PAINFULLY THICK BALTIMORE ACCENT BECAUSE I NEED EVERYONE TO UNDERSTAND AND KNOW THAT HE IS, INFACT, FROM BALTIMORE

This fic was originally a very self indulgent oc x Guy fic but I got embarrassed and turned it into an X reader.

Tried to edit this as much as I could but I'm bound to have missed stuff so please tell me and I'm sorry 😶‍🌫️

Guy burst through the door of your shared apartment, still buzzing with adrenaline from his intense training session. His gym clothes were drenched in sweat, a worn-out sleeveless hoodie, and some loose gym shorts as he stomped inside his apartment. Abandoning his duffle bag at the door. Kicking off his shoes clumsily behind him. He paused for a moment once the sound of his things cluttering to the floor turned to silence. Expecting to hear the sound of feet padding over to him, to feel a sweet kiss on his cheek, but there was nothing. His brows immediately knitted together, lips pressing into a pout.

He peered around with a thick brow raised, venturing further before he finally spotted you, too engrossed in your phone, just standing in the middle of the room. Ignoring his existence. Scoffing, without missing a beat, Guy charged over, suddenly yanking you backward as he pulled you into a headlock. Making you screamin surprise, dropping his phone(which fell to the floor without damage, thankfully) in the middle of the manhandling as you squirmed.

Guy snickered nasally as he squeezed lightly your face between his muscles. “Hey there, hot stuff!” Guy greeted with a wolfish grin.

“Miss me?” He wiggled his eyebrows. Guy’s heart raced and it wasn't just because of his adrenaline high.

When you gasped you were forced to breath in, making the sharp, salty scent of sweat fill your senses. Your face dangerously close to the thick curls of orange at Guy’s armpits. Your cheeks flushed your thighs pressed together. Inhaling another huff of the man’s sweaty musk. A heady scent that reeked of masculinity and potent testosterone.

You immediately whined as you tugged on Guy’s arms. “Don’t scare me like that-!”

Your reaction only just made Guy laugh, a deep rumbling sound in his chest, as he tightened his hold slightly. Not enough to hurt but enough to make you feel the sheer power and strength in his muscular arms.

“Aww, did I scare my little dolly?” He teased, his voice a low, mocking drawl.

Guy leaned in closer, his nose brushing against your hair as he inhaled deeply, picking up on the scent of your shampoo mingling with his own musky aroma. Just from that whine alone, he knew you were getting worked up; it made his ego swell. His chest subconsciously puffed out like a bird.

“C’mon, dolly, don’t tell me you weren’t missin’ this.”

He suddenly pulled you into his armpit. A big smug grin on his face that made his crooked nose scrunch. One arm wrapped around the back of your head whilst the other gripped the back of his neck to keep him from squirming away.

“You smell dat, babe? Dat’s da scent of a real man.”

You let out a sound that was a mix between a scoff and a squeal. Trying to act like you weren't absolutely melting against Guy’s side, your hands twitched as they clenched and grasped at the ginger's hoodie. Your leg stomped petulantly. You could feel the course hair of Guy’s pubes tickling at your skin, the warm damp of sweat that was most definitely going to leave a shine on your nose; which was buried in the jungle of curls. Your eyes fluttered with every shaky breath as you tried to complain.

“Guy-!” you let out another whine. “Stoop-“ you weakly tried to pull your face away. “You stink!”

Guy just chuckled again. Your brattiness really was amusing. It only spurred on Guy’s desire to tease you more. His thumb rubbed circles on the back of your neck, feeling the smooth skin beneath his calloused touch. Holding you firmly in place, not allowing you to pull away. His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping it lightly as he rubbed your face further into the sweat-damp curls of his armpit.

“I stink? Yeah, dat's what happens when ya out, trainin' hard.” Guy dismissively spoke, sniffing as he shrugged his shoulder like it was all no big deal that he spent hours dedicated to always keeping him and his rookies up to shape.

He finally released you but kept a hand on the back of his neck. “But yer right, I should shower-“

That made You tense. Immediately your hands were clutching at Guy tighter to keep him from leaving your side. Sucking in greedy breaths of air, keeping yourself nuzzled into his armpit. Peering up at him through low lashes as you panted softly. Too embarrassed to verbally protest but you kept tugging Guy impossibly closer to you. Silently demanding he didn’t shower.

He immediately looked down, meeting your gaze as you peered up at him with those pretty eyes. The sight of you like this, taking in his scent like it was some kind of aphrodisiac. His cock chubbed, eager and fat in his shorts as his ears went bright red, threatening to spread to his cheeks. He really couldn’t believe that someone was this into him- sure, he was a hot guy(he believed he was, but others seemed to disagree), but he wasn’t blind to the truth. He knew he was a selective choice for people; he’s had partners that have loved him, but you? You adored every single bit. Especially the parts so many have tried to fix, you embraced them. Cherished him. It made his head spin and his heart race.

Guy’s other hand slid down to the small of your back, pulling your hips flush together. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, could feel every curve and dip of your form pressed up against his. Already beginning to walk backwards towards the bedroom.

“But I stink; ya were whinin’ 'bout it a second ago; gotta clean up somehow.” He teased, eyes full of knowing and a grin permanent on his face. “So, you gonna clean me up then, huh?”

The two of you barely made it to the bedroom before you sank down to your knees, your hands dragged down the fabric of Guy’s gym shorts making

Guy stumbles back, his lower back pressing against the footboard of the bed. Biting your lip, a soft groan escaped you as he saw the big man was wearing a jockstrap; diving your face forward, nuzzling against the prominent bulge, feeling the damp spot of pre on the fabric against your cheek.

“You’re so mean to me.” you falsely complained, huffing as you pulled Guy’s jockstrap down his toned legs, marveling at the way his ass bounced when the strap got caught on the globe. Letting the man’s cock rest on your face. The heavyweight, from his girth, draped from your nose to your forehead. Your tongue happily made wet trails along the underside of the man's cock, feeling each vein that twitched against your wet muscle. Your tongue was just able to brush against the balls that were pressed to your chin.

Guy let out a low groan, his head falling back as he felt Your tongue dragging along his thick shaft. His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping it tightly as he fought the urge to thrust his hips forward.

He could feel the heat of your breath on his sensitive skin. It made his cock throb, leaking pre all over your face. He looked down, taking in the sight of his thick cock resting heavy on the your features. The sight of his balls, big and hairy, pressed against your chin. It was enough to make a strained whimper crack from his throat.

“Baby-“ he shook his head. His hips bucked as he felt another lick to his shaft.

“I’m mean to ya?” Guy growled, his voice rough with lust. Clearing his throat as he tried to ignore the whiney little sounds desperately trying to escape him.

“From up here, looks like ya dig it when I'm bein' all mean to ya.” He punctuated his words by thrusting his hips forward, rubbing his cock against your face, smearing pre all over your forehead and into your hairline.

“pretty privilege.” You state before dragging your tongue up and down Guy’s cock, tasting the salt of sweat on the skin.

He almost laughed but was cut off by his own whiney groans. Pretty privilege, huh? His chest grew warm at the teasing compliment. Wasn’t often a guy like him was considered pretty.

Your hand reached up as he pulled back the extra skin at the top, exposing the glossy red head of Guy’s leaky dick. Leaning back so you could pump his shaft. Guy's grip on your hair tightened as he felt the wet heat of your mouth enveloping his heavy balls. you sucked on one, tongue darting out to give the other some attention.

His head fell back, eyes squeezing shut as jolts of pleasure shot up his spine. His cock throbbed In your hand, the head an angry red almost purple and leaking steadily onto the your cheek. Guy’s chest heaved with each ragged breath he took, his muscles flexing and rippling beneath the skin. He was lost in the sensation, drowning in the feeling of your eager mouth. Your soft hand. The feeling of being desired without an ounce of shame or hesitation.

Guy’s other hand came up to grip the footboard of the bed, knuckles turning white as he held on for dear. His face flushed and eyes dark with lust as he stared down at the erotica sight before him. He was already so close, and you had barely even started.

'So embarrassing- c'mon Gardner ya can't be jizzing on a pretty face like a god damn virgin!'

This little tease was going to be the death of him. He licked his lips, his voice a low, husky growl. “Fuck, baby… you keep suckin’ on my balls like that, I’m gonna paint ya face white.”

That made you pull back, releasing Guy’s ball with a wet pop. Licking your own lips as you tried to soften your breaths. “and let it go to waste?” you teased back, finally guiding the man’s cock to your mouth. Feeling your lips stretch around its chub. Groaning, staring up at Guy as you bobbed your head.

Guy let out a low groan, his head falling back as he felt your lips wrap around his throbbing cock. The way the wet heat embraced his dick so perfectly, the way your tongue swirled around the sensitive head of his dick. It made his hips buck forward, pushing more of his length into your eager mouth.

Taking In the sight of your stretched lips wrapped around his thick shaft. The way your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked, the way you gazed up at Guy with those big, innocent eyes. When you were everything but. Those eyes could make you get away with anything, a bat of your lashes, and Guy would serve you the world if you asked. It was enough to make Guy’s balls tighten, his orgasm approaching faster and faster.

Guy’s fingers tightened in your hair, guiding your head as he began to thrust his hips forward. He set a steady rhythm, fucking into the wet cavern. His balls swinging and knocking into your chin. The bubble of spit and drool building up at the corner of your lips. He could feel your throat constricting around the fat head, groaning with each swallow around it. It was too much, too intense to be wanted this happily. But Guy didn’t stop, he couldn’t stop. Refused to.

He was too far gone, too lost in the sensation of your perfect mouth. He was digging his calloused fingers into every piece of loving you gave, and he would take it greedily. He wasn't going to ruin another relationship with walls drawn up.

Guy’s breath came out in short, sharp gasps. His muscles tensed, tummy flexing as he chased his release. He was close, so fucking close. Just a little more and he would-

"Oh SHIT-!"

With a loud, guttural moan, Guy’s cock pulsed and throbbed as he came hard. Thick, hot ropes of cum shot down your throat, filling your mouth and coating his tonsils. Guy’s hips jerked and spasmed, riding out the waves of his orgasm.

Finally, with a shuddering gasp, Guy pulled out of your mouth. Prying himself away reluctantly as he heard the heavy breathes through your nose clearly now. His softening cock slipped from between your lips, a strand of cum and spit connecting the tip to your glossy bottom lip. A big, happy grin spread across his face.

“C’mere doll-“ he was immediately reaching out and helping you up, pulling you flush against him. “Treatin' me so good.” He nipped at your cheek before tugging at your clothes. Eagerly stripping you down to bare skin, letting his hands wander, pinch, and grope as soon as any new part of you was shown. You Let out a giggle, wrapping his arms around Guy’s neck as he was pawed at. Kissing along the man’s cheek as he leaned into him.

“But I ain’t lettin' ya be the winner-“ Suddenly, you were hoisted up. Squealing as the ginger suddenly ran around to the side of the bed, practically throwing you both onto the bed with Guy holding you tight, falling into Guy’s lap like it was some sort of wrestling match.

“GUY-!” you shook your head, catching your reflection in the mirror.(A tall one with a simple frame. Propped up at the wall, pointed at the side of the bed.)

Guy just grinned wickedly at your surprised squeal, holding you tight in his lap. At some point chucked off his hoodie so He could feel your naked body pressed against his own, soft curves melding with his hard muscles. It made his spent cock twitch and start to harden again, nestling up against Your ass cheeks.

Guy’s hands roamed over your bare skin, squeezing and groping every inch that he could reach. He palmed your tits, rolling the stiff peaks between his fingers until you arched into his touch with a whimper. Guy’s mouth watered at the sight of your reflection in the mirror, flushed and panting, tits bouncing slightly with each movement.

He leaned In, breath hot against your ear as he growled, “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, doll. Gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good.” He eased Your legs opened wider, presenting him to the mirror, and let out another groan. “Oh baby…look how wet you are, all dat from a bit of sniffin' and suckin'?” His arm reached around, cupping your face as he stared at you through the reflection. “You really like me, don’tcha?”

"shut up-" you flushed deeper, squirming in his lap as you pressed your back into his broad chest. Slapping at the meat of his thick thigh in protest. Panting softly with the gloss of his cum still on your lips. Your eyes fluttered as you grasped his hand, nails scratching slightly at Guy's knuckles.

Guy just smirked wider at your flustered protests, not put off in the slightest by your feeble attempts to push him away. If anything, your squirming and blushing only spurred him on more. Looking so gorgeous all flustered and needy.

"Slapping me? Can't have ya fighting me, sweetheart," Guy shook his head, his voice a low rumble in his chest that you could feel vibrating against your back. His hand on your cheek tightened slightly, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he tilted your head to the side, forcing you to hold eye contact with your reflection.

"I'm just tellin' ya the truth, you're wetter than a slip and slide." he teased, his other hand drifting down from your tits to your dripping slit. He ran a finger through your folds, purposefully curling his feelings to hear it squelch.

He teased your hole, slowly prodding it with his calloused finger before finally pushing it in. Sinking a finger into your weeping slit as he let out a growl. His eyes never left yours, watching your every reaction with a hungry intensity. Relishing in the ease as he added a second finger, pumping into you. In and out. "Drowning my fingers here, baby."

"don't be-" your words were cut off by your own moan as your hips bucked. Letting out a shaky breath as his fingers moved. "Don't be disgusting-"

you pawed at his hairy arm, nails dragging along as your shifting only made your ass wiggle against Guy's leaky cock. Landing another sharp smack to his thigh.

Guy just chuckled darkly at your breathless protest, the sound rumbling through his broad chest. His fingers never stopping their relentless pumping, plunging in and out of your soaked, clenching heat.

"Disgusting? Nah, just honest," Guy growled, his voice rough with lust. "Can't deny how fuckin' soaked you are, makin' puddles down 'ere."

He punctuated his words by curling his fingers just right, rubbing against that sensitive spot deep inside you. His thumb flicked over your clit, making your hips jerk and your pussy clench around the invading digits. His hips continuing to rut, smearing gloves of pre over your ass cheeks, groaning as it slipped between your cheeks. Catching on the rim.

"Fuck, look at ya," Guy rasped, his eyes dark with desire as he watched your reflection. "So fuckin' sexy, wigglin' against my cock, betcha you'd just let me do anythin' to this sloppy little hole of yours."

Making you moan in response with a sharp thrust of his fingers, pushing them as deep as they could go. Grinding the heel of his hand against your clit. "But I can't do it if ya keep fightin' me, slap me again and I'll restrain ya."

It was obvious bait. You were being tempted. Dared to. Challenged. It made your stomach coil. Biting down on your bottom lip, tasting the musky salt of his cock on the skin. You took it like a fish spotting a worm on a hook. Slapping his thigh again with a squeaky moans as your legs twitched and tried to snap shut but his hand was blocking the way.

Guy smirked wickedly at your squeaky moan, your legs twitching and trying to close around his hand. He took the challenge. He warned you and you immediately forced his hand.

"Uh uh uh, none of that now," Guy tutted, his voice a low, authoritative rumble. In a flash, he hooked his burly arms under your calves, lifting your legs and pressing them back towards your shoulders. The new position left you completely exposed and at his mercy.

"Guy!" you yelped, instinctively trying to grasp at him to get some balance. Opting to grip the bedsheets instead.

"I mean, you were practically beggin' for this, doll, so don't start whinin'-" he growled, his hands sliding up your thighs, over your knees, until they reached your head. Guy cradled your skull between his large, calloused hands, keeping it steady as he lined himself up. He had to adjust his hips causing his cock to spring from your ass, slapping against your folds.

"FUCK!" you screamed, your back arching as much as it could in your current position as his hips thrusted up. The sudden intrusion stretching you out, filling you up so completely. Your pussy clenched and fluttered around his thick cock, trying to adjust to the intrusion.

"That's it, take it," Guy huffed, his breath coming in harsh pants. "Fuck, you're so goddamn tight. Squeezin' my cock like a vice." starting to roll his hips, fucking into you with deep, purposeful thrusts. The wet, obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room as he took you hard and fast, just the way you needed.

His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping tight as he held your head still, forcing you to watch as he used your pussy. His heavy balls swung up with each deep thrust, smacking against your clit making you keen.

You felt like a doll in his grasp. Toes curling as your body jolted. Hands bunching the fabric so tight you were sure it would tear by the end of this. Eyes unable to focus; fluttering and rolling back causing your vision to blur. Your lips stick in a permanent 'O'.

"With the way you're soundin' , Bet you're making some real pretty faces." Guy teased, wishing he could see the mirror better so he could watch you but he was had to lean back to support your shared weight. Watching your back twitch and your muscles stretch as you tried to arch in his restrictive hold.

You doubt you looked pretty. You wouldn't even consider the faces you're pulling porn worthy. With the way your teeth kept tugging on your bottom lip everytime his balls slapped against your sex. The way your eyes were unable to stay still. But God- it felt too good to care.

"Ohh- ffffuck- Guy-" your words were broken between moans. Barely able to slur them out.

"Fuck yeah, dat's my name, baby. C'mon, say it louder," Guy growled, his voice dripping with lust and pride. "Whose fuckin' ya?"

"GUY!" you screamed out as he sent another pounding thrust into your velvety heat.

Guy grinned ferally at your scream, his eyes dark with lust and pride. "That's right, baby. Fuck, you feel incredible," he groaned, his hips never stopping their relentless pace. The room filled with the erotic symphony of your moans, the creaking of the bed, and the lewd squelching of his cock driving into your soaked pussy.

"Who fucks you this good, huh?" He could feel your velvety walls fluttering and clenching around him, trying desperately to draw him deeper. It only drove him to pound into you with even more fervor.

"Guy! Fuck, Guy!" you wailed, your voice breaking on a particularly hard thrust. Your toes curled so tightly they started to cramp, and your fingers twisted the sheets into a tangled mess. Drool leaked from the corner of your slack mouth as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure.

"Who gets you riled up just from being sweaty and manhandling your cute ass?"

"Guy-!"

"Yeah..yeah- fuck it's me, who do you love, sweetheart, admit it," Guy snarled, his breath coming in harsh pants. Ego swelling to new heights everytime you called out his name. His cheeks as red as his ears, heart pounding against his ribs in anticipation. Sweat dripped down his chest and back from exertion, making his skin glisten in the dim light. He could feel his heavy balls tightening, his release fast approaching.

"GUY- I LOVE GUY-!" You practically screeched, high pitched and voice cracking. Your tummy unbearably tight as your orgasm grew closer and closer.

Your face was so hot you were melting. Tears of pleasure building beneath your lashes as your legs twitched in his hold.

Guy let out a roar of triumph as you screamed out your love. A giddy loud moan spilling from his lips in a mix of disbelief and pure pleasure at your admission. "Fuck yeah, you love me, baby! You fuckin' love me!" he bellowed, slamming into you with wild abandon. The bed screamed beneath you two as if I warn It'll give out under the force of his thrusts.

He could feel your warm walls starting to quiver and clench around his pistoning cock, your body tensing as your climax approached. "That's it, sweetheart. Come on my cock. I wanna feel you fuckin' explode on my dick," Guy growled, his voice a low, lustful rumble.

His body was coated in a new sheen of sweat, and twice as rewarded than any training he did today. his muscles flexing with each powerful thrust. The room was filled with the erotic symphony of your moans, the slapping of skin on skin, and the creaking of the overtaxed bed.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum, baby. I'm gonna pump you full of my hot fuckin' spunk. Gonna cum so deep in ya you'll be tasting me-" Guy snarled, his eyes wild and fevered with lust as watched your body squirm ontop of him. His hips jerked erratically as he teetered on the brink.

Your whole body seized. Gasping sharply as your body was strung taut. A curse leaving you as with one final smack to your clit, your orgasm crashed over you. A rush of liquid shooting out, walls spasming around his cock as you squirted. The clear liquid spraying at the edges of where your sexes meet, misting the air and edge of the bed.

Guy let out a guttural moan as he felt your pussy clamp down on him like a vice, your release gushing out around his him. The sensation of your slick walls rippling and milking his shaft pushed him over the edge. "FUCK! Take it all, baby! Fuckin' take my load!" he roared.

With one last powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he started to cum. Thick, hot ropes of his seed erupted from the tip, painting your insides white. He grunted and shuddered through each spurt, filling you up just like he promised.

"Unngh, so fuckin' good... Love you so much, sweetheart," Guy panted, his hips giving shallow little thrusts as the last of his release dribbled out.

Pulling you down to lay ontop of him, grunting as his cock slipped out of your sloppy sex as he nuzzled against the side of your head. Finally able to see your reflection once more. Letting your legs hang on his arms, no longer in the air as he felt the you slump against his chest. The sight of his thick cum oozing out of your gaping, well-used hole made his spent cock twitch and jump

“Looks like I really gave this pussy a workout, huh?” he teased, kissing along the side of your head to your cheek. "Look at you, all stuffed with my cream." He gripped at your thigh, showing off your puffy hole to you in the mirror. "Got my own personal eclair."

His chest heaved as he caught his breath, a sheen of sweat and a dazed grin on his face. He looked down at you with a mix of satisfaction and adoration, taking in your wrecked and blissed-out expression. He let out a low, appreciative whistle as another glob of his seed dripped out of your puffy, stretched-out sex.

Bliss fades to exasperation as you groaned at his comparison. "Don't ruin it-" you whined as your back pressed to his sweaty chest.

Guy chuckled lowly, the sound rumbling through his chest pressed against your back. "Aww, whaddya mean ruin it, sweetheart? I'm just sayin' you look fuckin' sexy as hell with my load leakin' outta ya," he murmured, nuzzling into your neck. His hands roamed over your curves possessively, one sliding up to cup and squeeze your breast.

"Can't help myself 'round you, doll. You just do somethin' to me," Guy said, voice husky and low. He pressed a trail of kisses along your shoulder blade, teeth grazing at the skin. "Tell me you didn't like it. Tell me you didn't fuckin' love havin' me inside ya, fillin' ya up," he challenged, giving your earlobe a nip.

His other hand drifted down your belly, skimming through the mess between your thighs. Smearing it a long your well fucked hole. scooping up some of the cum that had leaked out and pushing it back inside your fluttering hole. He pumped two thick fingers in and out of your sensitive entrance, feeling it clench and squeeze around the invading digits.

“Gotta keep all my cream inside this sweet cunt, don’t we?” Guy purred, scissoring his fingers and rubbing against your inner walls. “Can’t let a single drop go to waste."

You melted, cooing at the sensitivity he felt in his poor sex. “Guy-“ you whined, still trying to come down from you shared orgasm. “I need to get cleaned up.”

Guy’s fingers stilled their movements as he heard the need in your voice. He pressed a lingering kiss to your neck before gently easing you off his lap and onto the bed. Guy stood up, his muscular frame on full display, completely naked and not a hint of shame. He scooped you up into his strong arms, cradling him against his broad chest.

As the steam began to fill the bathroom, Guy knelt down in front of you. "You do what ya need to, I'll be waitin' for your fine ass in the shower, Kay?"

“Alright, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can take a little nap, yeah?” Guy said with a pleased huff, carrying you towards the bathroom. He set you down gently on the open toilet seat and turned on the shower, letting the water warm up.

Horny ramble for Logan..don't look at me

Just- let me sit in my corner of shame.

I want Logan to hold me down by pressing my stomach to the bed as he eats me out, calling me pup. I wanna be the lady to his tramp. The domestic dog to his feral wolf. |And I want my slick to be covering his face and in his facial hair. I want him to suck on the folds and gently nib around. Want him to make sure I don't shave beforehand coz he likes it natural.

I want Logan to hold me under my chest, my legs pressed over his thighs, spread and having to be held by the back of my thighs to keep them up in the air as he fucks me. Using me like a sex toy. I need him to rip my underwear from the band trim from the gusset, fabric moved to the side whilst he's clutching the ripped trim for security, to pull my hips closer as he fucks deep into me, already pushing atleast 3 loads of cums back in, using his other hand to smear his cum on my clit.

Need Logan's balls slapping against me as he puts me in a mating press and grunts and growls. Need him to rest his cock on my face and push my head to nuzzle against his balls and telling me to kiss them and say thank you as he smokes a cigar because without em I wouldn't get the rounds of cum he has. NEED HIM GOING "ATTA BOY" WHEN HE DOES!!!!!!!

Just....I need Logan

Hi gang 🧍

So...yeah 💕 @gilverrwrites posts and their anons yapping about Guy Gardner Being sweaty and fucking in full Nelson, I took it upon myself to write for him. I am also posting this so I am forced to finish this.

Tackling writers block one bit of peer pressure at a time / HJ

Edit: fic is out. Link