INFINITY TRAIN REFERENCE!!!

Welcome to the blog

My name is Ellie! I’m currently in college but in my downtime I like to write stupid little fics for my latest obsession - feel free to leave a request, after reading the rules.

if you know me from before, also here’s my masterlist

RULES —

Do’s : I will write fluff, angst, nsfw, headcanons, drabbles, full fics, gender-neutral & fem!reader, as well as afab & amab

Don’ts : oc x reader(depends), dom!male characters, male!reader, any nsfw that I deem too freaky

QUICK REMINDERS I have the right to not interact with any ask I don’t want too, and add rules when I see fit.

I’ll do most nsfw prompts, so if you have an idea you think is really kinky, i’d say still take the chance, just know that I might not respond if I don’t fuck with it [anything with barf or scat is too far.]

And I will NOT write dom!male character, I will write dom!female character.

If you don’t specify the readers gender, it will just be neutral. This gets trickier with nsfw, I don’t have male parts, so the default will be afab.

Also, if the request isn’t specifically asking for a fic/drabble/headcanons, i’ll just ramble my thoughts in short. Sometimes this doesn’t apply if the idea is really to my liking.

WHO I WRITE FOR —

Current fixation is gravity falls! This means i’ll be loving these requests for the next few months.

GRAVITY FALLS Stanford Pines, Stanley Pines, Bill Cipher, Fiddleford Mcgucket [young]

ADVENTURE TIME Simon Petrikov, Betty Grof, Bubblegum, Marceline, Marceline’s fuckass dad

UMBRELLA ACADEMY Diego Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves, Viktor Hargreeves, and Lilah

INSIDE JOB Brett Hand, Reagan Ridley, Gigi, Andre, probably JR ngl

MISCELLANEOUS Benson from Regular Show, Deadpool, Tony Stark, Sidney Prescott

REQUESTS — OPEN

Ive never seen a dom reader x stu marcher before PLEASE BIMBO I NEED IT

Sucking him off, riding him, edging him, face riding him, mommy kink, idc FEED ME—

-VoxisDaddy

warnings — mommy kink, dom reader, sub stu

summary — Sub!Stu Matcher headcanons/drabble

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Stu as a sub would be so clingy, all over you, begging to be punished.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 He wants you to beat the shit out of him. Oblige, and he’ll be all over you.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Unlike Billy, there’s not even any deep seated psychological reason for this, he’s just a freak, and he wants you to fuck the hell out of him.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Suck him off until he’s begging for mercy, which he will. But then he’ll go back on his word, and beg you to keep going. “C’mon, more! I can take it, mommy I swear!”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 He gets a sick kick out of being tortured by you, so don’t let him cum for hours. Make his dick pink and runny with pain because he’s needed to cum for just that long.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Ride his face while he’s tied up so he can’t even touch himself. Is his face wet from your cum or his tears? Neither of you know.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 He’s be so whiny about what he wanted, as if he deserves it. “Mommy, I know I was bad — But I can make it up to you,” He’d offer.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 But he deserves to be punished, which is lucky for him, because he wants to be. Badly.

a/n — I’ll go back to Inside job/Gravity falls in november. But now everyone should send me Bill Loomis and Tate langdon requests… yknow if we really wanna talk bout having a mommy kink..

Requesting an nsfw version of the fluff with vox ask from earlier! Reader just soft-domming and taking care of all his needs <3 (fem reader pref)

a/n — oh my god i really like this idea so i hope i did it justice, i’m kinda worried it’s out of character so you’ll probably see few little edits here and there.

He appeared at your door more disheveled looking than usual. He stood with his hat crooked and his bow-tie undone in the entrance, waiting to be let in.

“Is everything ok, Vox? You look a little—“ 

“I’m well aware of how I look, yeah. How long will it take for you to kiss me, already?” His attempt to be confident was in vain, he looked down at his feet while he said it, straightening out his suit jacket and frowning.

You didn’t lean in yet, “Did something happen at work?” You knew very well what happened; the usual, the stress of being a CEO of a company had finally caught up to him after a long week. 

Not to mention whatever Val and Velvette had going on because you doubt it was pleasant to deal with.

“Look, I haven’t got all day—” He started before you shut him up with a kiss because you clearly weren’t going to get him to open up. His hands fell on the sides of your arms as your hands rested on his chest.

It didn’t take long to get back into the usual routine. Kissing turned into making out, making out turned into palming his dick through and pushing him onto the bed.

He scowled, probably thinking about his suit and how you just wrinkled it with your forceful movements. But there was something else there, like he didn’t want to be treated rough.

You picked up on it and straddled his lap before kissing again, this time more tender. Surprisingly he found himself sinking into your lips and gasping softly when your fingers grazed over his pants zipper.

Slowly you pulled his dick out. Soon his other clothes came off too, and this time you were careful not to wrinkle them too much. 

Vox found the next couple minutes to be strange because it was almost foreign how you were handling him.

Your strokes were gentle and thought out, not too fast and just slow enough to ease him into the mattress.

He didn’t even complain or try to take the power back, he was far too tired. Instead he just whined and shut his eyes, “Inside, inside plea—szz—se.” 

You temporarily removed your hand from Vox’s cock to position yourself above him, “Of course baby, you deserve it after the day you’ve had.”

He looked up at you and moaned quietly, confirming your suspicions. When you sank down on him he whimpered and bucked his hips ever so slightly.

He looked at you, half expecting some string of degrading words thrown at him. Instead you shushed him and took both of his hands in yours, starting to rock your hips back and forth.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” you say, earning a low moan from him as you kiss his hands.

“Stop—zzz—stop it,” Vox pleaded looking away from you. He didn’t know what to do with all the praise, but at the same time he desperately craved it from you.

“Why, sweetie? Don’t you think you deserve it?” you inquire, humping his cock slightly faster and leaning over too kiss up his body.

“N—no, no I—sskk—“ he buffers and whimpers when he feels your soft lips on his chest.

“So pretty for me,” you say, moving up towards his neck, “so pretty and good.” 

He whimpers uselessly under the praise and makes a pathetic chocked noise when you bite down on the upper part of his shoulders.

“‘m not— bzz— ‘m not those th—hh—things,” he complained, whined slightly as you sought to suck on the bruises you left.

“Who told you that, baby? Because i’m looking at you right now and I think you’re the prettiest—“ you move to his upper neck and briefly bite down, “smartest, most amazing, person i’ve ever met.” 

He whimpers and throws his head back, the praise did something to him. It contrasted so much with his normal bratty tone it made him wonder what prompted this.

He anxiously awaited more of your words, feeling his cock heat up in your pussy. He didn’t want to cum this early though, however your genuine words were making it hard.

You planted a kiss on the bottom of his screen and rocked your pussy down on his cock.

“Vox, baby, look at you. So impressive, so talented,” you dragged on, earning a glitched out moan from Vox.

“ohgodohgodoh—zzz—“ he whined pathetically, needing more praise.

As he felt his climax build up, his hands shot to the sides of his screen like they normally do, but this time you caught them.

You kiss all the way up his arm before pinning both of them down on the bed gently, but firmly. His legs shook from you, trying desperately to hold back his release.

“mommy— mo—tsk tsk—mommy, please,” his feet kicked out and he pathetically whined loudly for you, your touch, your words, anything.

You shush him and release one of his hands to caress his screen, “You want mommy to take care of you, baby?”

He nodded frantically. You smiled, you hadn’t even asked him to call you ‘mommy’ tonight, he simply did it. He must have really needed approval.

“My perfect boy,” you speed up on his cock, “My beautiful, amazing, good boy.”

He whimpered and arched his back up to you, squirming uselessly. 

“You’re so amazing, so good for me,” You coo down at him, humping his dick slightly harder now, “Mommy’s so proud of you. I’m so proud of you, Vox.”

He moaned and threw his head back in the pillows, releasing all sorts of pathetic noises, whimpers and sobs. He was so close to fucking short circuiting under all of your validation.

Despite you being able to hear his moans and glitches, his face was only there every other second, other wise it was a screen that read ‘error.’

He squirmed beneath you, bucked his hips up, chasing his orgasm, and finally, came. 

He gazed up at you with tired eyes. You recognized that he was checked out for the night, and got off of him.

You kiss him on the top of his screen, “i’ll take care of everything, sweetie, just close your eyes.” 

And he did, under your touch, he went to bed finally feeling appreciated.

a/n — so what’s funny is i got a soft aftercare with Vox request so i’ll be doing that after this

Reblog this post to ask mutuals to tell you their weirdest theory about u

debating posting a fiddleford fic or a Bill fic tonight I dunno..

its impregnate that man monday ladies and gentlemen.

hmmmm if you’re looking for stanford smut requests….. maybe expand on ford loving pegging? maybe throw in him getting called pretty boy to really wreck him?

- 🎩 anon!

A Night to Remember

a/n — Yeah, not my best work. But oh well.

warnings — implied Fem dom, dom reader, use of a strap, pegging, sub Ford **NOT PROOFREAD

summary — Reader and Ford try out pegging for the first time.

“Are you sure about this, dear?” Ford queried for the hundredth time that night.

You were almost done setting up with prep, getting ready to slide the first finger in. His weariness was almost laughable, “Yes, i’m sure. Are you?”

He looked taken aback—sounded taken aback, as he was already on fours for you. “What? Yes! Of course, I— I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

It’s almost cute how unsure of himself he could still be, despite everything he’s been through. It’s in vulnerable moments like this you catch a glimpse of the insecure boy he once was. You try to call him down.

“So have I, baby—“ the pet name was well received, “—but you can relax. I’m gonna take good care of you.”

Your finger slipped into his asshole with ease because of the lubricant, and he shifted uneasily. “It might feel weird at first— But just get ready, sweetheart.”

“Right. Yes. Of course,” was his short response.

You worked on loosening him up for a little bit before you must have hit a spot he liked, because he sucked in a breath, “Oh.”

Gaining confidence, you kept moving. Twisting your fingers in and out, drawing soft moans from Ford.

Finally, his voice wavered, “Please.”

You took that as your queue, slipping your fingers out and replacing them with your strap. 

“Brace yourself,” You say as you slide into him, drawing out a whimper of approval from Ford. “Good, good.” You praise absentmindedly, beginning to find a pace.

You steady yourself and move inside him, not too fast, but not annoyingly slow. 

“M-more,” Ford mutters, “Please, love—“

So you speed up, and you begin to drive deeper into him. First your pace unsteady, but once you find a good place, Fords legs begin to shake. His breath hitches and he gasps for the sheets, groaning slightly.

You go on like that for a little bit, before deciding to, once again, lift your pace.

Ford whines your name. 

“You’re doing so good, sweet boy,” You thrust into him, “So well behaved, so perfect.”

He whimpers into the pillow, mumbling incoherently.

“And so pretty,” you add on, drawing out a long raspy whine from Ford.

“Ah— Y/n, dear lord—“ He whines, “Close, ‘m so very close.”

You drill into him now, daring him to reach his limit, a challenge he seems to gratefully accept.

“Anytime you want, sweet boy.” 

His breathing gets ragged, back arching with every thrust, and with one final whimper he releases, before collapsing onto the mattress.

You lay there with him for a few moments after ford flips onto his back. 

“Wanna get cleaned up?” You propose.

He breathes, “I think—“ a huff “—If we want to get full use out of the strap then… maybe a second round would be.. most productive.”

some bill/billford sketches from when i was on the plane yesterday (including my human!bill design :)

tumblr butchered the quality :/

OOOOUHHHH GIRLLLL DON’T PLAYYY… this is MY typa shit.

Thoughts on milking Shadow Milk through his ass instead of riding him?

GET THE STRAP! GET THE STRAP

His reaction? At first, it’s pure mockery. His usual cocky, dramatic self—grinning wide, tossing his jester hat aside, pacing in a slow circle around you like you’ve just brought him a toy. "Ohhh~? What’s this, sweetheart? Planning on topping me tonight?"

He laughs—low, sharp, confident. But there’s a waver to it. Because even as he’s teasing, his eyes keep darting to the strap. The size. The intention. The fact that you’re serious.

Smut incoming/ MDNI

So now he’s already lying there, dramatic as ever—head tilted back against the pillows, legs lazily parted, chest rising and falling with slow, expectant breaths, and his lips curve into that familiar sharp grin. "Oh? So now you’re going to worship me first? I knew you couldn’t resist." He’s cocky. Smirking. Mocking you even as your fingers slide between his legs.

But the moment you touch him—properly, with care, with purpose—his voice catches. Just a little. His lashes flutter. And that grin? It wavers. "Nnghh… I— I was only teasing, you know—" You feel him tense under you. You press in deeper. Stroke over that tight ring of muscle, slow and teasing, coated in slick lube or your own spit—anything to make the glide smooth, comforting, perfect. He gasps. Bites his lip. His hips twitch against your hand. And now he’s trying to pretend he’s not into it."Y-you’re… hah… really taking your time, aren’t you? How generous of you—nnnghh—tch…" He’s a mess. Clenching around your fingers, squirming under your hand. "more—give me another one…" Trying to mask the way his hips are starting to roll down against your hand, seeking more. And that’s when you stop.You curl your finger just right, hit that sweet spot one more time, and then—Pull out.

Not roughly. Delicately. Teasingly. Cruelly slow.

"Ah ah—You think you can tell me what you want?" He’s trying to save face—just barely. His lips twitch in a half-smile, something strained and shaky. He wants to pretend he's still in control. "Aha… you’re being rather stern, aren’t you? I only meant to suggest—" Your grip closes around him. Firm. Tight. Your hand closes around his cock in warning. Enough to make him jerk, breath catching in his throat. His eyes go wide—lashes fluttering—his voice cutting off with a strangled, high-pitched breath. "Hh—!" You lean in close, breath ghosting over his cheek, your tone low and sharp like silk-wrapped steel: "I said. You don’t tell me what you want." You give him a slow, deliberate pump in your grip—enough to make his thighs tense and a sweet, helpless whimper catch in his throat. "If you beg before I tell you to, I’ll stop." "If you demand again, I won’t touch you at all."

Those words ring in his brain. And you squeeze—once. A reminder. A promise. His head tips back, breathless. His fingers curl in the sheets. You feel him throb in your hand, shivering under your control. "Y-you drive a hard bargain," he breathes, voice cracked but giddy beneath the heat. "But I’ll behave…Please."

He’s panting now, jaw tight, shoulders trembling—absolutely owned by the feel of your hand on him, and the knowledge that you’re in control of everything.

...

You guide him with care—hands still firm on his thighs, holding him open as you position yourself. The strap brushes against his entrance, slick and warm, and you feel his breath catch. His hands grip the sheets. "Ngh… wait—w-wait—"

But he’s not telling you to stop. He’s just overwhelmed. Already.

You smile. "Breathe," you murmur against his ear. "You said you could take it. Were you lying?" And oh, the way he shivers under that. The way his lashes flutter, and his lips part in a soundless, whimpering little gasp. "N-no. I wasn’t… I—I can…" So you press in, slowly, carefully. Until the tip slips past that delicate ring of muscle, and his whole body arches.

"Hhah—!" You don’t stop. Not yet. You rock in with slow, deliberate pressure—inch by inch, letting him feel every second of it.

"Ahhh—s-so full—so… ohhh…" You bottom out with a final push, your hips flush against his. His breath stutters in his throat. His thighs tremble. He’s quivering, his body clenching sweetly around you as if trying to adjust and beg for more all at once.

You pause. Let him feel it. Let him tremble. Let him want.

And then you start to move. Rhythmic. Slow. Deep.

Your hands pin his hips in place, guiding the pace—not letting him escape, not letting him rush. His breath comes in short, high whines, his voice soft and broken:

"Nghh… ngh… s-so good, I—it’s too much…" "No," you breathe against his throat. "This is what you begged for."

He moans—quiet, strangled—his fingers curling tight around your wrist, pleading for more even as his body struggles to handle it.

You adjust your angle. You thrust again—deeper, this time. You hit it." That spot.

And he breaks. "Hh-AHH—!" His back arches, his whole body tenses around you, "T-that—again—please—again—" You slam back in. Over and over, steady, deep, merciless—but not cruel. Claiming. Worshipful. "You're so tight," you whisper. "You take it so well… look at you. My perfect little thing." He can't speak anymore. Just moans. Just gasps.

Shadow Milk Cookie—Master of Mischief—has been reduced to your soft, gasping, needy puppet.

His thighs are shaking. His breath is shallow, stuttering out in hitched gasps. You feel the way his body tightens, writhes, pulls you in with every roll of your hips. "A-ahhh—nnngh, I—I can’t—" "Yes you can," you purr. "Be good for me. Let go."

And then—You grab him. Wrap your hand around his throbbing cock in a firm, practiced grip—stroking in time with your thrusts. And his entire body convulsed. His head snaps back, lips parted in a loud, broken moan that echoes off the walls. Then he cums...

Hard. Messy.

Rope after rope spilling over your hand, over his stomach, his voice trembling as he whimpers through the high. His chest heaves, flushed and slick, legs weak and twitching. "Nnnnhh... o-ohhh… oh witches..." He shudders, soft, overwhelmed gasps escaping him even after he finishes—his body still twitching around the strap buried deep inside him, clenching rhythmically in the aftershocks. You stay buried inside, holding him close as he melts into you, the last remnants of his pride dribbling away with every gentle breath. And when you lean down, kiss his temple, whisper,

"You did so well for me."

He just nods, eyes lidded. voice gone, and completely yours.

--

WHO MADE THAT MESS? YOU DID KIIIING, I MADE THAT MESS? YES KINGGG!!!