IM GOING INSANE

IM GOING INSANE

the Yuri ever… (no new rare pair art today, coloring this instead)

Jill Marie Jones as a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader

i just need to be idk, babied by logan, even though he knows that twenty something isnt a baby, hes showing you how to smoke properly, your sitting on his lap and taking sips of his drink, he lets you lay your head in his lap and cuddles up to him at night with ur cheek against his stomach and he just like, takes care of you? like he pets and humours and tolerates and when ur fucking hes so caring, stroking hair and kissing ur cheeks and forehead ur honour i want him so bad

And you get it soooo fucking bad because the idea of him being so paternal with you is something that just rots me to my coreee you guys. And there's a semblance of casual dominance about it that just makes me sob.

He's in the middle of fucking you. His chest pressed to your back, his skin flush to your own as he stands curved over you on your hands and knees on his bed. He keeps an arm wrapped around your chest, keeping you upright as he rolls his hips into, pressing a long kiss to the back of your head.

You'll be at the counter in the kitchen late at night, working on whatever when he wanders into the room in a grey hoodie and sweats. He makes his way to lean against the countertop, peering over at your notes. "Y'need anything, baby?" He'll eventually ask, running his knuckles over your forearm as you continue to write. "Mm, maybe water," you say, almost jumping out of your seat before you're being pushed back into the leather cushioning of the chair. "Let me do it fr'ya, sweetheart." And you don't get your glass of water until after he's "secretly" stolen a sip. He stands next to your seat at the counter until you're all done.

He's the first time you experience smoking. The smell of tobacco is heavy in the air while he sits on the front porch of the mansion. You've always been one to try new things and Logans never been one to deny you almost anything and so of course he holds the blunt of the cigar to your soft lips and lights the tobacco while you look all pretty fr'him. Takes you a couple tries and a few lessons in watching Logan easily breathe in the smokey tar, but you catch it eventually, earning a "atta' girl." From Logan.

Has you sit in his lap during movie nights at the mansion while he nurses a bottle of Jack Daniel's. He keeps a hand wrapped around your hip and the other on the neck of the bottle. Ever so often, you'll motion towards the bottle, and Logan'll hold you by the chin and tilt the bottle to your lips only for a second before pulling it away. You try to reach for it back, and he's pushing your hand away with a "C'mon, kid, that's enough." And you better not argue, it'll start an hour long discussion on how he knows best.

Or how the two of you will be lying on the couch after finishing a movie. You're resting against his chest as he runs the tips of his fingers up and down your back softly. And he'll just start giving you quick pecks here and there over your cheeks and on the tip of your nose and your forehead and chin before pulling back to look you over. He'll soothe the palm of his hand over the soft apple of your cheek, whispering softly "Yr'my baby, huh."

would you perhaps be interested in writing abt tashi and edging reader if she's pissed off abt smth 😣

strapons; mean ish tashi; dom!tashi; MDNI 18+ w/ TASHI DUNCAN

she acts like she doesn't mean to do it. like it's your fault and not hers.

maybe, if you weren't on the brink of tears, you would be able to understand her point of view.

"all you gotta do is answer me." she's talking to you as if she's sympathizing, her lips skirting across your temple. her thrusts are slow and deep, her silicone cock rocking up into you with precision. it's enough to keep you on the edge, but not nearly enough to make you cum.

she's been talking to you the entire time, telling you things to improve your game, but you hadn't been focusing. you only knew the conversation was about tennis because tashi tended to get passionate when she talked about it. her thrusts had more purpose, her hands were on a mission. she really fucked you when she talked about how much better you could be on the court.

and she'd said something to you, maybe asked a question, but you were too lost in the feeling of her nipples rubbing against your chest as she slid in and out of you with ease. which brought you here, confused and too horny to properly function.

she hums to get your attention.

you whine, your face scrunching up. "tashi, i can't—i don't—what're you—?"

she nudges her nose against yours as she rounds your face, kissing around your other temple before coming to the center. "look at you. do you even care? do you even think?" she takes a moment, her teeth darting out to bite into her bottom lip. "or do you only think with this?" her hand slaps your clit and you jolt, your back arching.

you don't know if she's waiting for a verbal response, but even when you try to give one, nothing comes out but moans.

"so unappreciative," she chastises, her pace speeding up just a bit. "'m giving you advice for free and this is how you treat me?" her words are harsh, and her pace soon reflects it.

she hasn't given you permission to cum, but it's close, steadily approaching, and you're close to letting go whether she tells you to or not.

until, satisfyingly, she slots her lips with yours and tells you, "go ahead, then. if you want it so bad, go ahead and cum."

i’m thinking of a specific version of sugar baby/house husband satoru who’s the type to sit on a floatie in the pool and stroke his dick, not caring if the stuck-up neighbors hear him. he walks around in his boxers and slippers—maybe a flimsy button-up that’s not closed or covering anything at all. he goes out and checks the mail or walks the dog with a soda in his hand and waves at people with a weird smile on his face as if they don’t know what it sounds like when he gets himself off (or when he gets you off)

he flirts with meemaws at the grocery store at 10am (if he gets up that early) because they all think he’s big and strong and handsome when he gets heavy or high items down from the shelf for them. he sits in his underwear at the computer and plays video games with foreign teenagers online.

he goes out shopping and tries on like 80 different outfits (including strange hats/skirts/dresses/etc.) and takes a bajillion photos, some of which he sends to you. catfishes creepy guys online and argues with people on reddit for fun.

he decides to paint the mailbox weird colors or work on a scrapbook he plans to give you one day. doordashes ice cream and laundry detergent because he forgot to get some at the store (and he was craving sweets). he lets the neighbor girls play with his hair and put makeup on him before someone sees and says “don’t play with that man, he’s weird,” but he would never do anything to them. burns a batch of cookies because his foreign online gaming bff braxton from california said he needed him for a last-minute raid.

he puts on a random dress from the closet and dances weirdly around the house to loud music while he cleans up the mess he mostly made. stands in the middle of the living room and rubs one out to a photo of you because he just had the sudden urge (and now he has another mess to clean up). has to set a timer to make sure to start thawing the chicken early for dinner because he started a new drama show and keeps forgetting, and you’re starving when you come home.

does any of that on a given day but when you ask him what he does while you’re at work he just says: