#[ because it can go either way for SURE with this fuckin thing ]

[nightmarecountry]

[PULL]: sender pulls on receiver's hair to expose their neck

- Louis

The Corinthian inhales sharply, almost a hiss. He knows what this man wants from him: knows what he is, has done from the moment they laid eyes on one another in the evening dark. Whether or not Louis will get it is another matter. A nightmare is no easy meal, this one least of all, and the Corinthian mislikes being hunted by those he considers his prey.

"Now, slow down, will you?" Easy enough to resist the tug of Louis' hand in his hair, even with a vampire's strength. The Corinthian fixes him with a smile that does not come close to reaching its hidden eyes. Its hand reaches back to curl around Louis' wrist, prying the hand from its hair. "There's no rush."

[hurlingdown]

WITH MY HANDS AROUND YOUR THROAT — TOP MALE READER X SUKUNA

synopsis. taming the king of curses is one thing. making him beg is another. since it's either fuck him good or get your throat slit anyway, why not take a gamble and achieve both? wc. 2.6k

tags. sub! sukuna, soft dom!reader. can be read as cock or strap. brat taming, choking, begging, hair-pulling, belly bulge, heavy praise kink, pet names (good boy, sweetheart), porn with feelings, this turned out way more intimate than i intended it to be

His back arched away from your chest as you slowly pushed your cock inside him, stretching him wide open. You could feel his every ragged breath from the hand you wrapped around his throat, silent for once, and you knew he was eager. 

“Good fuckin’ boy, Sukuna,” you muttered lowly into his ear.  

You barely heard the warning growl. He turned his head abruptly, teeth snapping together in an attempt to bite as you jerked away, barking out a startled laugh. 

“Aw, that was cute.” And as though the bite wouldn’t have torn flesh, wouldn’t have scarred your face for life, you smiled down at his scowling face like it was a pretty thing. 

“I am not your pet,” Sukuna snarled, and he sounded angry, something akin to a wounded animal. You hummed non-committedly, continuing to push until you were snugly seated inside him. “Fuck—the n-next time you call me that, I will bite something more than your face.”

“How tempting.” Despite his threats, his legs were trembling with effort to hold himself up, and he pressed his throat into the cup of your hand, willingly submitting to your touch. You squeezed lightly, just enough to press into his windpipe, and watched as all four of his eyes rolled to the back of his head. 

It was funny, really, how he was using violence to disguise what a whore he really was. You counted to five before you let go. 

Apparently, you stopped too early for his liking. He was panting, his glare wet with tears, biting down a moan with bared teeth as the fat tip of your cock caught on his rim before easing in again. You were moving at a lumbering pace, deep and hard inside him but too fucking slow and rubbing at all the wrong places. 

He was growing frustrated by the second, and he finally barked, “Get on with it or I’ll kill you! Do you want to fuck me or not?” 

“I am fucking you, Sukuna.” 

“Not like this! Fuck—fuck you!” he half-hissed, half-whined, nails digging into the soft mattress. ‘More’ and ‘faster’ were on the tip of his tongue, but he took pride in his title of the King of Curses, and naturally his ego kept his mouth sealed shut. “Do really think I will hesitate to kill you just because I let you inside me? Are you that much of a fool?”

“Nah,” you replied nonchalantly, rolling your hips inside him to jolt out a startled moan. “You can kill me, but I don’t feel like catering to you today.” 

His words exploded into a string of expletives as he slammed his hips against you, shuddering as it only dug deeper, missing his sweet spot by far. 

Sukuna wanted to scream. 

Hand sliding up from his throat to firmly seize his jaw, you turned his face to meet you. “D’you need a reminder, sweetheart?” Your fingers dug into his cheek, taking extra precaution in making sure he wouldn't suddenly rear up and bite you. 

You needn’t have worried, though. He was way too desperate to care about the pet name or comprehend your question at that point, and he bucked his hips impatiently against yours, letting out a displeased growl. “What? J-just fucking fuck me already, brat.” 

You ignored him, continuing to move into him at a languid pace. “If I just give you the reward every time you ask, you’ll turn spoiled. How about you show me that you’ve earned it first, mm?” 

“What,” he lets out a shudder, breath bordering on a sob because why couldn’t you just give him what he wanted? He was so good for you, all patient despite his arousal, waiting for you to take him like you had promised, and yet you were being so mean and unfair to him. “What do you fucking want from me? You are just—fuuuckk, you are just human—so fucking weak, comparable to an insect! What makes you think you have the right to demand that of me? I am your king.”

He wanted to rip that smirk right off your face, punch your pretty face in. Dine in your blood. You didn’t deserve him. 

“I don’t have any right, I know,” you agreed, “but you aren’t entitled to everything, either.”

“Your ways of insinuation are pathetic—”

It hit him then, like a thunderbolt splitting the earth apart, and he gave a violent shudder.

The past twenty minutes had not been for nothing. You weren’t just toying around with him. You wanted him to see him crumble from his want for you. You wanted to hear him beg for it.

“No,” he gasped, shaking his head wildly. “No, fuck you. I am not going to beg.” 

You felt a sadistic smile creep onto your face. Seeing him deviating from his usual cocky self, now a babbling, incoherent mess, gave you a strange sort of pleasure. “I didn’t ask you to beg, though, did I? But now that you mention it…” 

You wanted to break him. 

Not that he wasn’t breaking already.

Sukuna was trembling with the effort of not giving in, sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard it tore through skin. Blood trickled down one side of his chin, and you wanted to lick it up. 

“I am your king,” he repeated, a tremor in his voice betraying his want. “You offer to me. I do not beg.”

“Well, king, you’re holding up all the fun,” you taunted, voice sickly sweet. “Don’t you wanna be a good boy for me?” 

He shook his head again, this time with less force. Tears were welling up in his eyes again, and he didn’t even bother to blink them away, too occupied otherwise. They dotted on his lashes, threatening to spill. Where were his promises of ‘biting something more than your face’? What a little liar. 

“I’ll make you feel so good you’ll be feeling it for days,” you purred into his ear, “in exchange for one word. That’s all I’m asking for. You can do that, can’t you, sweetheart?” 

You watched in triumph as his eyebrows furrowed, as though carefully contemplating his answer. It was far too generous of an offer—he would be a fool to refuse. You made sure he knew that. Just one more little push, and he would topple over the edge and become putty in your hands. One more push. 

Kissing your way down his spine to plaster yourself to his back, you reached a hand down his abdomen with your free hand, pressing into it where your cock rested within him. It was too much, and you knew it. You were heavy and thick inside him, filling up every inch of his tummy, and he hadn’t stopped clenching around your girth since the first time you pushed it in. Then you moved your hand, feeling him up until you found the thing you were looking for. 

You heard his breath hitch. 

Beneath your fingers was an obscene swelling high up in his abdomen, protruding from the hard lines of his stomach. A bulge that made for clear evidence that his insides were carving out a space for you. You should have known there was no way it would fit so innately. No matter how disagreeable his personality was, his body was so good for you, as always. 

You gave the bulge a little squeeze, and Sukuna let out a choked whine, mouth gaping as though trying to form words. 

You pressed yourself to his back, kissing his shoulder. “What is it?” 

He shook his head, continuing to whine softly, no longer as petulant as he was desperate. You were almost afraid you had broken him. 

You decided to take one more step. Flattening your palm on the bulge, you carefully pressed it back into his stomach. “What do you want, Sukuna?” you whispered. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

He tipped his head back to glare at you with the corner of his eye, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Give me more,” he gritted out, helpless. “Please.” 

Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?

Without warning, you pulled back and rammed yourself into him in one go, angling your hips to pound right into his sweet spot, making him cry out in surprise. “W-wait, wait, ahh!” he screamed, the hand on his neck forcing him to stay in place. “Slow down, ‘s too much—” 

You continued to slam your hips against him, hitting his prostate with every sharp thrust, drinking in his whines and complaints and ignoring all of them. “You’re so good, so fuckin’ good, Sukuna.” 

He whined loudly in response, hands grasping for purchase on the sheets as you railed him into oblivion. “Not good, no,” he sobbed, shaking his head, his protests falling on deaf ears. “Bastard, slow down…”

You let go of his throat to grab the back of his neck, shoving his face roughly into the mattress as he cried out. “Fuck, how do you feel so good?” you muttered mindlessly, taking more rapture in looking at his pleasure-addled expression (eyes squeezed shut, drooling onto the bed, moaning loud and clearly in ecstasy) than the fact that you were inside him. “I could do this all day long, y’know?” 

The tip of his erection grazed against the sheets with every thrust, and he wanted nothing more than to grab it and jerk off to your pace, but you kept his hands so busy, either trying to knock off his balance or brutally pound his entire body into the bed. 

“Ah, ah, sh-shut up! Keep talking and—I’ll twist your head off!” he threatened with a whine, desperate, but you continued to talk, embarrassing him further. 

“Look at you,” you cooed, “you were making a fuss earlier, and look at you now, taking me so well. Fuck. You look like you’re made for this, Sukuna. Made for taking my cock.” 

He seized up at that, hole clenching around your girth obscenely, making your pace stutter. 

“What was that?” you laughed. “Was that a turn on? You’re too cute, really.” 

Sukuna tried to morph his face into a look of disgust, but all he succeeded in doing was have his eyebrows pinched up in a look that resembled pure bliss more than anything. At some point he gave up struggling, arms going slack as he allowed you to pull him back against your cock by the hips, fucking him onto your lap as lewd ‘ah, ah, ah’s escaped his lips. 

You were pounding into him like an animal, treating him like one, and yet your pathetic, ingratiating words never failed to make his heart cramp up with a strange sensation, heat spreading from his face to the tips of his ears and down his chest, painting him a pretty red. 

You were just another lowly human, he reminded himself, someone to fuck and forget, but at the moment Sukuna found himself wishing to get lost in the stars that erupted around the edges of his vision every time you hit his prostate, found himself wanting a second time, even if the first hadn’t ended yet. You drove him insane, and he loathed how good it made him feel. 

“Brat,” he heard his own voice, wrecked by how much noise he had been making, and you leaned forward to kiss his spine, letting him know you heard him. 

“What?” you murmured as he didn’t continue, slowing down your thrusts. “D’you need something? Does it hurt?” He bristled at how tender your words were, how you acted like you cared about a bloodthirsty curse like him. 

“Did I give you permission to stop?” He pushed his hips back against you with a growl, forcing you to pick up your pace. “Just wanta let you know—after this. You’ve got—hnngh, ahh, fuuuck! Nowhere to run. So don’t even think about i-it.” 

You blinked, equal parts amused and perplexed by his sudden threat. You dared not stop, though, even as he started to pant and whine heavily into the mattress, body shuddering with the gradual approach of an orgasm. “I’m not going to run from you, Sukuna. Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Why would you run, when he was right under you, pliant and wanting for you to satisfy him? Did he not understand how much you’ve yearned for this? 

“Good choice,” he moaned, “don’t you dare fucking stop until you make me cum.”

You sped up your thrusts, snaking a hand back onto his neck and up to fist into his hair, wrenching his head up to smother him with a filthy kiss. It was rough, and more teeth than tongue, and at some point you could taste the sharp tang of blood from the cut in his lip earlier. You lapped it up along with the saliva that trickled down his chin, hearing him let out a needy whine. 

“So close, ah—so damn close, please, please, fucking please—” he begged shamelessly between loud moans, stripping himself naked of all dignity as he spent the last of his energy to bend his back into a vile arch, pressing his ass against your crotch as you slammed yourself into his swollen sweet spot in one powerful thrust. 

A scream ripped from his throat and he came untouched, staining the bed with white, at the same time clamping down on you so hard you jerked to a sudden stop. You collapsed onto his back, panting loudly as you tried to catch your breath. 

“Fuck,” you groaned. “You okay?” 

He refused to respond, keeping his face buried in the mattress. You took the opportunity to pull out, hearing him let out a soft whine, cold and aching and suddenly empty. 

“Fuck you,” you heard him mutter. 

That was good. He was still alive. 

You slumped down onto the bed next to him, kissing his shoulder to try and get him to turn, and he raised a shaky hand to flip you off, mumbling something you assumed was a profanity. 

Biting down a grin at how utterly adorable he was being, you found yourself overwhelmed by a sudden rush of affection. 

“What, are you shy?” you teased. “Don’t be.” 

He scoffed, the tips of his ears reddening. “Brat, I am not shy.”

He didn’t have any reason to be shy. Not to you. After all, you had long mapped out every inch of his body, from his prominent features to his most vulnerable. Made him want to bare his throat for you to make him feel good.

But nothing could have prepared you for the way Sukuna slowly flipped himself onto his back, levelling you with a sleepy, half-lidded gaze instead of his usual hard glare, muttering something under his breath. He watched you quietly, placing his hand next to yours on the bed, the position far too intimate for your comfort.

“Hey,” you blurted out, feeling your heart skip a beat. You knew you were risking everything, and that he could kill you in the blink of an eye, but you couldn’t stop the next words from coming out. “You were really good today.” 

Good.

Sukuna had been called many things in his life before, but ‘good’ was not one of them. Good men did not dirty their hands with the blood of the innocent for fun. Good men did not sit on a mountain of bones and call themselves a king. Good men did not grow six arms and four eyes and look like monsters, and Sukuna was a monster himself.

There was a long, awkward pause, and his eyes were wide with a look you couldn’t decipher—one of disgust or mockery, maybe, and you were already regretting it. But to your utmost surprise, it started with a light blush dusted high on his cheekbones, before it bloomed into a dark red that spread across his face. The corners of his lips twitched, and then lifted, ever so slightly. He immediately fought to replace it with a scowl, but you had already seen it. 

He had smiled. Sukuna had smiled at you. A genuine, almost soft smile, as though he cherished the way you told him he was good, had longed to hear it for centuries of living.

“Quit smiling, brat,” he huffed, but his voice lacked any real venom, more exhausted and content than anything, and made no refusal when you leaned in to kiss him.

Sukuna would later realise that he was neither good nor man, but if you were ever so willing to embrace a curse like him, he supposed he could be good to you, for you.  masterlist! # and here’s to introducing me and my delusions to the jjk fandom… also i feel like my tags r getting a lil repetitive lol

[cat-got-your-tongue]

too sweet for me

Dp&W!Logan howlett x fem!reader

Summary: You've not been feeling like yourself, and you take it out on logan until one day he decides he can't take it anymore.

Content Warnings: established relationship | spanking | mention of safe word | dom/sub undertones | fingering | maturbation (male) | facials | so sorry if I left anything out. If you tell me I'll fix it.

Word count: 4.2k

Authors note: I'm still trying to get into the swing of writing. I hope you enjoy. I proofread this one a little bit. My requests are open. Pictures used are not mine found on Pinterest. Divider by @saradika-graphics

My work will always be 18+ Minors do not interact.

You had been in a foul mood all day, no better yet all week. Any little thing Logan did got under your skin. He used your shampoo, and suddenly, you were slinging the bottle across the bathroom. He made your coffee, and you snatched it away from him. He said good morning, and you responded with a roll of your eyes and a "good morning" under your breath. It seemed like all you wanted to do was pick a fight. And your attitude was aimed solely at him.

Logan noticed how relaxed and sweet you were with Wade. He watched as you laughed, and it he wouldn't lie it stung him a bit. You seemed to enjoy that annoying fucks company more than his. Logan had been trying so hard to get back into your good graces for the past couple of days now. When he spoke to you, he made sure his tone of voice was soft. He didn't want to trigger whatever animosity you had for him.

He didn't like feeling as if he were walking on eggshells around you. But he didn't know what to do - or what he did for you to act this way. The only thing he knows is that when you got this way, he hated it. Logan had a hard time controlling his temper, and you certainly knew how to test his patience. So much so that he had to leave the apartment you two live in and spend the night at Wades place.

Today, he had enough.

Logan had been trying to put your bookshelf together today. One you picked out at ikea, and he made a comment on building you a better one that would last much longer. You were hell bent on this particular shelf that could fit right in the corner of your living room. You bugged him all week to do it. But he had been busy working, and then by the time he came home, he was exhausted.

"Baby, can ya' grab me a beer while i do this?" He spoke up as he looked over the instructions. His eyes trained on the visual image on the flimsy piece of paper. His vision straining a bit.

"No," you snapped when logan asked you to get him a beer from the fridge. "Get it yourself. I'm not your maid."

Logan sighed and took a deep breath. He didn't want to snap at you, but you made it really fucking hard not to. "Fine."

He got up, tossing the instructions down and going over to the fridge. You were standing there as his shoulder brushed yours, and his hard gaze fell on you. You shrunk down a bit and went back to sit down at the table. You didn't know why you were being an asshole. You wish you weren't this way. You always seemed to get agitated with the people who never deserved it.

"Wanna tell me what crawled up your ass?"Logan popped his beer open and took a long swig. "I'm trying not to react but it's really hard dealing with your bitchy attitude all week and I've been trying my fuckin' best to please ya."

Logan regretted those words the moment they left his mouth. Your nonchalant reaction to them only pissed him off more.

You didn't respond. You only shrugged your shoulders and went back to reading your book at the table. You couldn't tell him what was wrong, because you had no idea either. He didn't do anything. You were just not in a good mood, and unfortunately, logan was taking the blunt of it. You know his feelings were probably hurt. Especially after seeing you so upbeat and happy when Wade was around.

Logan took another sip of his beer and slammed the bottle down on the table right next to you, causing you to jump a little. He leaned over the back of the chair. his lips ghosting your ear. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, and you didn't need to see his face to know he's mad. You've pushed him too far. He had been patient, and you kept pushing. You kept snapping and being mouthy.

"Go in the bedroom and get undressed." His voice is low and dangerous in your ear.

"But" you tried to argue back, knowing what he wanted to do.

"Don't." His voice was soft again. "No buts I've had about enough of your fuckin' attitude. Go in the bedroom, get undressed, and I'll meet ya' in there."

You turned to look up at him from your seat. Your eyes pleaded for him to change his mind. Yet you knew you deserved it. Everything you've done and said led up to this moment.

"Now." He commanded and picked up his beer and finished it off.

You quickly rose to your feet and carefully got up, trying not to look up at him. He could be intimidating when he's angry. He'd never actually hurt you. You and logan had this agreement since you began dating. Punishments were a pretty normal thing. Logan hated giving them just and much as you hated getting them. (Well, you and him didn't hate them all the time) they did help you, and he knew that. All of the times, when you were overwhelmed with emotions and didn't know how to handle them — this was an outlet for you to let it all out. You would ask for a punishment. Logan always gave you what you wanted and pampered you when it was all done.

You went into your shared room and stripped down until you were completely naked. You sat on the edge of the bed, hanging your head. Hoping logan would take some pity on you. The room was dark, save for the sunset peaking through your curtains.

Logan sat down at the chair you were in before leaving. He tried to collect himself before joining you. He really just wanted you to talk to him. He wanted to understand you. Understand what he did wrong. Understand why you seemed so angry, but he remembered your eyes. You looked so sad and unsure of yourself. All he wanted to do was scoop you up in his arms and protect you from your feelings. He knows doing this will help clear your mind.

He sat there for a couple more minutes, letting you anticipate what was coming, but also trying to calm himself.

Finally, logan walked into the room and saw you at the edge of the bed. You looked defeated. His eyes softened slightly, but he knew he had to go through with this. If you didn't want the punishment, you would use your safeword. You've used it many times before. Since you didn't say anything and you complied to strip off your clothes. He sensed you wanted this punishment if it made you nervous.

"Look at me, baby." He walked to stand above you. His finger lifted your chin up. Your eyes met his. You made it so hard for him to stay mad at you.

You were just so sweet even if you were a fucking pain in the ass to handle. Too sweet for someone like him sometimes.

You looked up at him, his touch was gentle on your face. His hazel eyes weren't boring into yours. He seemed remorseful for what he was about to do. He knew he had to. He couldn't let you continue being so rude and disrespectful towards him. He also knew you needed this. Your body language told him everything.

Logan let go of your chin and took off his white tank top, throwing it across the room. Your eyes ran up and down his body. Your thighs squeezed together. You could feel your arousal already pooling between your legs.

He ran a hand through his hair. "How do ya' want it, hand or belt?"

You hesitated to answer at first.

"Uhmm, your hand." Your voice was quiet.

Logan smirked, noting how quickly your little attitude was already changing. "Alright, it'll be my hand, and we'll do ten spanks. Sound good?"

You nodded and bit down on your bottom lip.

"Use your words, baby." Logan got closer, invading your space. He placed his hands on either side of your hips, his grip firm, but still gentle. He could feel his cock already beginning to strain against the cold metal of his zipper.

"Sounds good." You spoke again quietly.

"Okay." He leaned down and gave the corner of your mouth a quick kiss. "Get up and lay over my lap. You remember what to say if you want this to stop. Yeah?"

"I say red." You jump down off the bed. Logan reluctantly releases your hips but moves back slightly to give you some space.

He sat down in the same spot you were sitting in. You stood there in front of him, your body bare for him. He took you all in and licked his lips. If you weren't being such a brat he'd fuck you instead. God, the things he'd do to you right now. He had to fight those urges. Those primal urges to pull you in his lap and drive his cock deep in your weeping cunt.

You wanted to apologize. You knew it was too little too late for that. No amount of apologizing would help you now. The thought of logan spanking you sent waves of arousal and fear through your body.

"Good girl." Logan praised. His deep, husky voice made your clit pulsate. He reached out, yanking you by the waist, and threw you over his lap.

You gasped as you were now laying across his thighs. His belt buckle digging into your side. Your feet dangling over the floor as you tried not to fall off him. He probably would like that, though. Seeing you fall and watching you get embarrassed.

"Lo, are you mad at me?" You turned to glance up at him over your shoulder.

His quirked an eyebrow up at you. "Mad? Don't ya' think it's a little too late to be askin' me that?" He sighed. "Yeah, I'm mad, but we'll discuss all of that later. Right now, I want ya' to count every spank I give your ass. Okay?"

You turned your head and looked down. You tried to keep your focus on a spot on the floor. It usually helped you deal with the pain and slight humiliation would feel. "Okay."

Logan rubbed his hand over the plush skin of your bottom. You heard him hum as you laid over his lap. Your ass reminded him of a ripe peach he wanted to sink his teeth into. Juicy, firm, soft all the things he liked.

"I hate doin' this. Punishing ya'. I'd much rather be balls deep inside ya' but you just had to hurt my feelings." Logan spoke from behind you. He wasn't really speaking to you rather than at you. He didn't care for your response or sorrys.

"Lo...I- I don't mean to." Your voice broke and your eyes blurred with tears.

You never thought how you were acting would actually hurt his feelings. Logan's never been good at expressing that before. Maybe your sudden mood swings were starting to really affect him. Even if it was your way of asking to be punished — or you were just not feeling like yourself and the sudden wave of sadness made you lash out.

Regardless, it wasn't fair to logan. You see that now. You always saw him as this invincible man where nothing could hurt him. Not even harsh words and the silent treatment. You were wrong. So very wrong.

"Start counting." He interrupted you. His hand, going back to connect with your ass with a harsh slap.

You whimpered, and tears fell from your eyes. "O-ne."

Logan rubbed over the spot he just spanked. You were already crying, and he's barely gotten started. He didn't give you much time to collect yourself before his hand was reconnecting in hard slap to your ass. He watches as the skin ripples from the impact. His cock growing harder watching your ass jiggle as you took your punishment. He had to bit his tongue and not make a comment on it, know how you'd you get embarrassed. Even if he'd love seeing you get that way.

"T-two." You cried out. Your tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor beneath you, creating small salty puddles.

Logan's hand reeled back again, spanking you over and over. He didn't slow down or go easy on you. Every swat felt like your ass all the way down to your thighs would go numb from the pain. You were a sobbing mess as you struggled to even count for him.

"Shh, shh baby, we're almost done." He soothed you and kissed your temple. "You're doing so good."

Your mind was in a haze now. You couldn't remember being upset. The only thing on your mind was logan and the stinging pain he was inflicting to your ass. His rough hands groping at your skin before delivering another harsh blow.

You could feel your juices running down your legs. You hoped logan wouldn't notice how turned on you also were getting. The more you cried and got it all out, the better you felt. As weird as it probably sounded to some. This made you feel at ease once it was all said and done.

Logan noticed you go silent. The only sound coming from your lips were soft cries.

"Do ya' know what number we're at now?" He rubbed down your back, avoiding your ass for now.

You shook your head. "N-no."

"We're at eight. almost done." Logan reassured, his hand slowly inching down your back and resting on the curve of your sore cheeks.

You took a few steady deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Repeating the action over and over again.

Logan observed the way you were trying to pull yourself together. He gave you a small smile before continuing on. He gave your ass a light little tap, signaling you he was about to start again. You braced yourself as your body hung over his lap. Your toes danced across the floor while you desperately tried to keep yourself perfectly balanced.

"Nine." You yelped a little louder. His hand came down again. The sounds that were made each time his palm connected to your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

"....t-ten." Your voice was raspy, barely even above a whisper as you counted the final blow.

"There we go, baby. We're done. We're all done." Logan went right back into soothing you. He looked down towards your ass watching your body trembling. "You're so strong, ya' know that? So good."

You tried to catch your breath as you choked back another sob. Your face was tear stained, and your makeup ruined.

Logan rubbed up and down the back of your thighs as well. His hand sneaking in between them. He bit his lip as he noticed how wet you got during your punishment. Your inner thighs sticky with your slick. He ran a finger along your wet slit, teasing you. Your nails dig into his strong thighs.

"Mmm, you feel so soft." He purred above you.

Your pussy was drenched with your juices. Your body was still shaking from your punishment. Your ass felt like it was on fire. Logan moved his middle finger up and down along your slit before taking his middle and index finger to spread open your sensitive lips. You turned your head to watch as logan admired your sex dripping for him. He loved the way it glistened. He watched as your walls clenched around nothing, practically begging him to fill you up.

All that attitude, sadness, and feelings of self-doubt of yours were fading away.

"Logan, please," you begged him. Your voice, still raspy. He did a double take at your disheveled appearance. Your eyes bloodshot with your mascara running, smudging your under eyes.

Logan felt so bad for making you cry like that. He felt even worse for not taking it easy on you when he was spanking you. Even if it helped you get over whatever it was you that bothered you. But he couldn't deny how hard it made him as well.

He didn't respond as he spread your lips further apart, letting the cold air of your bedroom hit your entrance. Your face heating up while logan fully exposes you. Your clit throbbing as it goes ignored. He takes his thumb and rubs the outer part of your opening, getting it nice and ready. You moan, and logan doesn't stop looking at you.

"Ya' have the tightest little pussy." He commented, feeling how your entrance wants to take in his thumb, but he doesn't push it in. Not yet.

Instead, he pulls it away, and you whine; a small pout forming on your face. You began squirming over his lap, his erection pressing right against your stomach. You can see just how feral he wants to be become. His pupils blown completely until out, you can't see the color anymore. His nostrils flared while smelling your arousal all in the room.

"This is how it's gonna be. I'll let ya' cum on my fingers. That's all ya' get tonight. Jus' my fingers. You don't deserve my dick. " His tone was strong and commanding as he told you how the rest of the night was going to go.

That's when you knew your punishment didn't just stop once the spanking was over with.

"Will you still help me get cleaned up afterward?" You felt a little disappointed and on the verge of crying again when he rejected you. Logan usually always fucked you after your punishment. This time it was so different.

"Baby, I'm always gonna take of ya." Logan reassured. Which almost made you feel better.

He finally slipped a finger inside you. Your walls instinctively squeeze around his thick digit. You cried out in pleasure as you squirmed more. The pad of his finger slowly rubbing and pressing firmly on that spongey spot on your walls. You arched your back and dug your nails into his skin through his jeans.

"Hmmphf.... more lo— I need more." You begged.

Your head felt dizzy from all the sensations you felt. Your ass was still in so much pain but logans attention to your pussy kept your mind off it. Normally, he would tease you longer. Make you beg until you were a complete wreck. He couldn't bring himself to do that tonight. He felt guilty for spanking you the way he did. But still wasn't going to give you his cock.

Logan gently pushed another finger inside you. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he began pumping them in and out of you slowly. You felt his cock twitch in his jeans under you. His fingers knuckle deep in your cunt as he trusted them inside you. He curled them up and made sure to pay close attention to your g-spot, pressing on it and massaging it. Your walls clenching up and your toes curling.

"You okay, baby? Logan checked in, but his fingers didn’t slow.

"Y-yes...m'okay keeping going" You stammered out, as you tried to keep focus.

He chuckled and picked up the pace. His fingers were making your pussy create the most vulgar wet sounds you've ever heard. Your slick soaking his hand as he fucked you. Your legs shook and he took his other hand to rub tight circles over your clit. You could feel your orgasm building up. That coil in your lower belly tightening as logan fingered you hard and deep.

"F-fu- logan, I can't hold it." You warned him. Your moans were getting louder and more desperate.

"Aaah! god! I'm gonna-" You mewled while your cunt was being spread open. His long, thick fingers working in and out of you.

That only spurred him on until you were cuming all over his hands. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hold onto his thighs for dear life.

Logan didn't stop. His fingers still moved in and out of you while his other hand payed attention to your throbbing clit. He milked your pussy as you rode out your release. He finally slowed down and stilled his hands. Carefully, he removed his fingers with a loud shlick. A string of your juices still connecting to them. He brought them up to his lips, sticking them in his mouth.

Logan hummed at the taste of you. "You're so sweet. " You wanted to hide your face. Your eyes glossy from your orgasm.

"Come on, on your knees." He patted your ass gently. You didn't move at first. Your body was too weak, and your mind was still too cloudy think.

He noticed your hesitation and figured out why. He placed his hands on your waist and moved you gently to the floor to sit back on your knees.

"Jus' because I'm not sticking my dick in you tonight doesn't mean I can't get off, too." He grunted and unbuckled his belt.

Logan unzipped his pants and his cock sprung free almost smacking you in the face. The head of his cock leaking precum. You lick your lips and immediately try to taste him. He grabbed your jaw firm but not enough to hurt you.

"Ah ah, and what do you think you're doing?" He smirked, taking his cock in his hand.

"I thought you'd want me to use my mouth." You looked up at him, confusion written all over your face.

"Ya' don't get to blow me either. Ya' get to watch me jerk myself off and cum all over that pretty face of yours." Logan let go of your jaw and stood up straight. His form towering over yours as you kneeled in front of him.

"Oh." You wiped your eyes. You felt rejected yet again, but honestly, you understand why. You were a bitch to him for the past week. It was only fair and definitely part of the punishment.

"If you're good. I might let you ride me tomorrow mornin'." He looked down at you, giving you a small smile. You know him telling you no was just as difficult.

Logans abs flexed as his hand slowly started stroking his cock. His thumb pushing down on his tip, smearing in his precum. He let out a loud hiss and groaned. You watched from your position. You shift in your spot as you feel yourself getting wetter. Logan was taking his time. He was making a show of it – wanting you to see what you're missing. His body glistened with sweat. His mouth parted as he muttered "fuck" under his breath.

His hand moved up and down, pumping himself above you. Your eyes were in awe at how beautiful he was. You watched how his abs flexed and his Adam's apple danced. You wanted to reach out and help him. You wanted to apologize with your mouth full of his cock. He wasn't going to let you do any of that.

"Ahh, goddammit. If you weren't such a brat, I'd have ya' split open right now." He grunted again. "Make ya call me sir with my dick in the back of your throat."

"You still can." You reminded him.

He laughed. "Nice try, but no. Only good girls get my dick. Ya' haven't been good."

You frowned and kept your hands in your lap. Your juices were dripping down your legs and little to the floor. You've never been more frustrated and turned on in your life. You watched logan stroking himself. His eyes half lidded, and his muscles flexed with every movement. His pace quickened and you could tell he was about to cum. He cupped his balls with his other hand, making his knees buckle slighlty. Your clit ached at the sight before you.

"Goddamn," he whispered to himself while his hand moved at a faster pace. "See what ya' do to me? How hard ya' make me?"

You watched in awe as your pussy ached more for him. You were on the verge of pouting but remembered what he told you. "Ya can ride me in the mornin" his words echoed in your ear. That promise was enough to keep you at bay and kneeling down before him like a good girl. His good girl. That's what you wanted to be again.

His chest was rising and falling faster. Logan gave himself a few more long strokes, and he was finishing all over your face. He growled harshly and ropes of cum shot out onto your mouth and chin. He was careful not to get any in your eyes or hair. Logan kept pumping himself, milking every single drop he had left in him. You went to move away, but the hand that was on his balls grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer. Your face just millimeters away from his cock and heavy balls. His hand finally stilled.

All you could hear was the sound of his heavy breathing. You waited until he came down from his high. His release had hit him hard, too, just as yours did. Logan had been pent up with so much frustration over these past couple of weeks because of you. You felt his hand letting go of your neck. You went to rub the sore spot where his fingers dug into your skin. He didn't speak to you yet. He was still trying to catch his breath after his release.

Logan dragged his hand down his face and looked you over once more. He gently took you by the upper arms and put you on your feet. Your legs felt wobbly, and the stinging pain on your ass returned. Logans eyes trailed up and down your body, focusing on your face.

You were a mess, cheeks all tear stained. Your makeup smudged and now his cum dripping down your chin. You were a beautiful sight. One logan wanted to admire forever. If he had his phone; he'd make this moment his lockscreen and jerk off to it when you weren't around.

Your tongue inched out to lick some of the cum off your lips. You loved the way he tasted and hated how he wouldn't let you have more. Logan felt his cock twitching again but chose to ignore it. He let out a shuddered breath and shook his head.

"Ya' alright? Was that too much?" He bent down, grabbing his discarded shirt off the floor. Logan carefully wipe off the mess on your face, starting with his cum.

"Not too much." You shook your head. "I'm fine." You tried to fix up your makeup, but it was really no use.

He leaned down and gave your forehead a sweet kiss.

"We need to get some aloe on your ass. It'll help sooth that burning feelin" Logan moved around the room as you stood in your spot. You wrapped your arms around your middle while you watched him hunt for the aloe and put his jeans back on.

Logan noticed how you were hugging around yourself. He cursed under his breath, fixing himself back in his pants. There was something still lingering in the air. He couldn't put his finger on it.

"C'mere baby." He took your arms from around you and pulled you to him in a warm embrace. You buried your face in his chest, taking in his scent. Logan could sense how you needed his comfort more than some lotion right now.

You two stood in eachothers arms for what felt like hours. He finally spoke up, breaking the silence.

"If ya' don't wanna talk about what's been bothering ya' I want pressure. Jus' know I'm all ears once you're ever ready to tell me"

You nodded and closed your eyes, not wanting him to let you go.

"Sometimes I don't know what's wrong." You whispered to him.

"And that's okay." He kissed the top of your head. "Let's take a bath together, and I'll cook ya' dinner."

"Are you gonna finish my bookshelf?" You moved your head away to meet his gentle gaze.

Logan chuckled and playfully swatted your ass. "Yeah, yeah, I'll finish that damn bookshelf."

The rest of your night was spent with you in logans arms after he helped get you all cleaned up. He got our your favorite sweatshirt and made you food. You sat on the couch watching him get frustrated with the instructions to your bookshelf that he had to remind you he could've just made you a better one. Logan did end up finishing it for you and joined you on the couch, pulling you into his lap where you both ended up falling asleep.

[thinkinonsense]

forgive if it’s a bit scatterbrained but hear me out… some sort of reverse corruption w old man!logan >///< i just feel like he won’t be the type of guy who’d immediately be into having a thing w young!reader. i feel like he won’t even take it seriously at first or there’s def gonna be more resistance from him, he’d probably feel initially repulsed by the idea of even beginning to think of them that way given how young they are. but reader is bold bold, so they’re gonna keep pushing and pushing until they’ve got him where they want him. but even if she’s practically sinking down on him, logan is still probably gonna be like “fuck’s wrong with you, huh? old enough to be your fucking grandfather, kid. c’mon, you don’t really want this.”

poor old man’s just too decent for his own good :(

old man!logan x young bold fem!reader *mdni

logan couldn't stand you. how young and ambitious you were; how you couldn't just take no as a fuckin' answer. you thought it was cute but logan found it rather obnoxious. you were persistent with your attraction towards the older man; frequenting the only bar in town that logan was still welcomed in.

"what are we drinking tonight, lo?" your voice was a siren song that he wished he could turn off.

"whiskey." he mumbles against the glass.

the mean glare he sent your way would've made anyone else run in fear, but not you. instead smiling up at him with bambi eyes. at first, logan thought you were just dumb, not picking up on his signals but as it turned out, you're just stubborn.

every friday night, you sat on the stool next to him. you should've been flirting with guys your age by the pool table but no, you would rather get rejected by the old man who drinks alone. at one point even the bartenders started to think that you two were together which logan quickly shut down.

"c'mon, at least let me pretend that i'm yours," you whine, swirling around your second fruity drink tonight.

"you don't want to 'be mine', kid," he said in a stern voice, similar to one you would use on a child who won't behave.

"aaand...why not?" you ask him, crossing your arms and already getting pissy. "don't gimme that bullshit about you being 'too old' either."

"has anyone ever told you that you're-"

"pretty? hilarious? tight? yeah, a few times actually."

logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. he tries to give you some sympathy but there's only so many times that you can burn your hand on the stove until you learn your lesson.

"look, cherry..." logan sets his glass down. you adored when he called you, cherry because that meant he was paying attention to you and what you drank, always having to top it off with a cherry. "i'm probably your grandfather's age-"

"don't care." you interrupt him, leaning forward to stare into his eyes and run a hand through his hair. "your grey hair is so hot, lo. should let me pull on it sometime."

logan was finding it more difficult to resist you. almost letting out a groan when you pull slightly. logan could smell your arousal forming; clouding his vision.

"why don't you throw your panties in someone else's direction, huh? i'm sure those boys over there wouldn't mind." logan snarls, getting fed up with your attitude.

it wasn't that he didn't find you attractive, quite the opposite really. maybe if he was younger or you were older then he wouldn't mind your flirty personality so much but that's not the way that the world works. logan is -whether or not he wants to admit it- old and he didn't have time to put up with your whiney shit.

"okay." you shrug, getting up from the barstool.

logan doesn't believe that you'll actually go talk to those boys. in one minute your ass will be back here annoying him. he was sure of it.

then ten minutes passed and giggles were still falling from your lips. nothing the guys said was actually funny but you played it up to look better. there was one guy who you actually didn't mind talking to; both of you went to the same college and shared the same major. for a second, you'd completely forgotten about the man burning holes into your side.

the two of you talked for a while, exchanging stories while you leaned against the pool table in your tiny cut-off shorts. logan watched those boys gawk at you; staring everywhere but your face.

"i know right! her class was horrible! all she did was-" your words fell short when someone grabbed your upper arm, attempting to pull you away from the guy, who you think his name was josh, or john, or jake? you couldn't really remember and you definitely didn't care.

"c'mon kid, i'll give you a ride home." logan growled in your ear.

"oh, it's okay!" you chirp like a little bird at him. "think i'll find another way home tonight."

it's just a facade, logan told himself. you were just trying to prove a point. always stubborn.

"i'm not messing 'round, kid-"

"leave her alone, old man." the kid interrupted, giving logan a push.

logan snarls, about to teach this boy a lesson but you are faster; heel-kicking him in the nuts. the boy hunched over, allowing you to be ear level with him.

"fuck off." you spit, angrily before walking away.

logan looked at you completely dumbfounded. he had no other choice than to follow you blindly outside of the bar. he found you leaning against his truck; under the dim street light, logan would've misplaced you for some angelic figure.

"mind takin' me home, lo?" you ask him, for once not acting like some horny little rabbit towards him.

he nods, fishing out his keys. you give him directions to your apartment. the silence in the car makes you think logan's mad at you for real this time. you pushed it too far, embarrassing him and yourself this time. logan wasn't this dirty old perv who would actually give you the time of day, and maybe it was time for you to face that reality.

"i just wanted to say sorry for everything." your voice is low and quiet. afraid logan won't even acknowledge you. "i know that i should've left you alone a long time ago. you wouldn't want someone like me anyway-"

the car came to a dead halt in the driveway. logan turns to face you and you fear the worst; afraid he will yell at you.

"do you seriously think i wouldn't want you?" he asks. "you haven't left my mind since the day we bumped into each other at the bar and i spilled my whisky down your shirt. remember that, cherry?"

you nod, carefully. that day was imprinted in your mind. your friends and you were celebrating your birthday when logan bumped into you at the bar on accident. he frantically apologized for ruining your white shirt which you suggested for him to lick you clean. it had been so long since someone had flirted with him that he didn't know how to react.

"i'd never seen someone look so pretty and sticky at the same time." logan's hand gently caresses your cheek.

"could've seen it more often if you had fucked me like i wish you would've." the words fall out without pressure, making logan smirk. no matter how much you tried, you were desperate for him.

"you've got one dirty fuckin' mouth, cherry."

"it gets dirtier than that."

"hmm... don't know if that's possible."

"i could show you if you like."

the offer hangs hot in the truck. logan leans back into his seat, asking for forgiveness on what he's about to do. three light taps on his thigh and you crawl right into it.

"atta fuckin' girl, cherry." he groans as you grind against his crotch and bite on his neck.

"also for the record, the only person i want to have my panties is you, logan." you purred in his ear, referring back to your earlier conversation at the bar.

"i know, sweetheart. i know." he chuckles, watching you kick off your shorts and underwear.

once your back in his lap, you unbuckle his belt and wait eagerly for him to have his way with you. yet, logan doesn't offer anything.

"if you want to fuck an old man like me then you need to get used to doin' all the work, cherry." he says, half-joking. "can't keep up with an eager little thing like you."

you knew his game. to scare you off by acting like an asshole but you didn't mind doing the work to get what you want.

"fine with me." you smile, hands inching towards the glasses that hang on his button-down. "can't forget these, want you to see what you do to me."

logan groaned when you pulled him out of his pants, pumping him a few times before aligning him to your entrance. he was a bit bigger than you would've guessed, only making you wetter. just as you are about to sink down onto him, logan stops you, holding your hips in the air.

"fuck's wrong with you, cherry? you still want this, huh?" he taunts you, only getting a whine from you in response. "such a desperate little thing."

"p-p-please, logan." your hips wiggle against his tight grip. "want you... need you."

without another word, he lowers you down onto his length. both of you moan at the adjustment. your nails claw at logan's shoulders and you feel him twitch inside of you at the pain.

"happy now?" logan groaned, watching you bounce up and down on your own. his hands stayed on your waist, squeezing at the fat of your hips. "got what you fuckin' wanted."

"mhm..." you nod along dumbly agreeing to whatever he says. too busy trying to get his white button-down off of him. frustrated, you break open all the buttons.

once his chest was exposed, you litter it with kisses and dark bruises. for the first time, logan was happy that his healing abilities were slowing down so now he can admire your artwork longer. you grab both of his giant palms bringing one hand to your chest and taking the other thumb into your mouth, licking the pad of it before moving it down to your clit. tracing circles in a way that made your head fall back with your mouth wide open.

"do you always get this wet for older men or is it just for me, sweetheart?" logan asked, fist full of your hair.

"j-just you, lo..." you gasp.

logan's lips found your jaw, kissing up to your chin before capturing your lips. he wasn't a fan of fruity drinks but he loved the taste they left in your mouth. your backs against the wheel lazily and logan can tell that your orgasm is approaching.

"don't give up now, cherry." he teased. "you were doing so good, being a perfect little slut in my lap. what happened to her?"

you were too fucked out to say anything back and he knew it. logan finally took pity on you and started pistoling into you, listening to every pretty curse word that fell from your trembling lips.

"where do you want me, sweetheart?" logan grunts in your ear, pulling at the lobe as you come down from your high.

"inside, please."

that's all logan needed to hear to spill inside of you. the warmth indescribably flooded you. the two of you collapse in each other's arms, collecting yourself for a few minutes.

"told you, i'm a good fuck." you told him, looking up at him with messy hair and an unapologetic smile.

"didn't doubt you," he says, mirroring your smile as he moves some pieces of hair from your forehead. maybe logan could see you being a permanent person in his life.

"and to think..." your words drift off as you start to move again, feeling him get hard again inside of you. "we are just getting started."

[nyctoaerah]

⋆♱⋆THINKING ABOUT...

Content Warnings: Yandere Behaviors, Stalking, Fluff, Smut, Masturbation (M), Oral (F receiving), Perv! Sanemi. Reader is the same age as Sanemi, Filth. Mdni.

Pairings: Yandere! Sanemi Shinazugawa x Fem! Tsuguko Reader.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 loves admiring you from afar, and never confessed his feelings for you. He’s always making sure that you’re safe whenever you’re on a solo mission while justifying and convincing himself that he’s just being a responsible hashira and totally not a creepy stalker. After all, a responsible hashira needs to protect his tsuguko, right?

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would always mask his obsession attraction and love by being all grumpy and pushing you to your limits during training, only to spoil you and be gentle to you afterwards. He just really likes giving you mixed signals.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 doesn’t allow you to go on missions with other people — especially not with those lower ranking demon slayers, he only lets you go on solo missions, or missions with the hashiras and him. He doesn’t let you go on missions with Giyuu and Tengen though.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 intimidates people who tries to approach you. Why bother talking to them? You have him after all. He is stronger and more capable than them after all.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 can read but can’t write since he never really got proper education and he spent his life slaying demons, so he mostly asks you to teach him how to write, but he’d end up getting flustered when you would grasp at his hand and help him how to properly write the letters.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 cooks food for you and acting like your husband instead of your predecessor. He loves cooking foods for you, loving the way your eyes would lit up and lovin’ the way that you would smile and thank him.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would always insist on giving you a massage, after a strenuous training session, his hands kneading away the tension in your muscles. He’d murmur apologies for pushing you so hard, but he’d end up saying that the only reason why you’re so sore because you’re too weak.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 would always allow you to join him soak in the hotspring in his estate. However, whenever you would bathe with him, his cheeks would flush crimson, and he would avoid meeting your gaze, because his fuckin’ mind would start to conjure inappropriate things.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 has zero tolerance for anyone disrespecting you. Catch him overhearing even a whisper of slander about you? He’ll make sure to make the person shut up and makes sure to make their life miserable.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 absolutely hates it whenever he hears that you’ve been injured and ends up scolding the shit outta you and making you not go on missions for some weeks and not letting you out of his sight.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 started having weird dreams of you — however, this time it wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns, and innocent like the last one.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 found himself getting a wet dream about you, where he was on his knees before you, his mouth eagerly devouring your dripping cunt, tongue swirling skillfully over your needy clit, and eliciting sweet, desperate moans from your lips.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 ended up waking up with a feverish body and flushed face and a cock that’s stiff and aching from the steamy dreams that had him moaning in the dead of night like a bitch in heat.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐖𝐇𝐎 let out a frustrated groan as he saw the bulge in his pants, because damn, he despised jerking off and he rarely did it because he thought that it’s just a ‘waste of time’, but he couldn't resist giving himself a little pleasure, his dick was just begging for it after all.

Sanemi shot a frustrated glare at the prominent bulge straining against his pants, his annoyance growing at the sight of the small, glistening wet spot that adorned the fabric.

Did he cum in his pants while sleeping or was it because his dick is licking pre? Either way, he didn’t liked it.

“Fuck...”

he grunted in exasperation, a slight shift in his stance prompting him to swiftly unbuckle his belt.

With a smooth motion, he let his pants drop down to his mid-thigh, a wince crossing his face as his cock sprung free, slapping against his abdomen with a lewd sound.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” His eyes widened slightly at the sight of how hard he is.

Sanemi sighed as he hocked a thick wad of saliva into his palm, and winced slightly as he grabbed the base of his cock, feeling it pulsate in his hand and ooze precum.

“What the fuck am I even doing?”

He muttered, his hand trembling as he slid it along his length, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he dragged his thumb over the sensitive tip, feeling the slickness there.

“This is such a waste of time,”

he grumbled underneath his breath.

“You better behave after I take care of you, you hear me?” He chastised his dick as if it has a mind of its own as he started to moved his hand up and down his cock.

“Stupid fucking hormones,”

he cursed, his grip tightening around his cock. He adjusted his hand for better leverage, and he made sure to press his fingertips against the sensitive underside with each stroke, relishing the way the veins pulsed beneath his touch.

He sat on the futon, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath, the sounds of lewd squelching and his hand moving vigorously over his dick echoing in the room.

It was a relief that today was his day off, free from any missions or distractions.

But the memory of the wet dream that had left him throbbing and aching still pissed him off, because what the fuck, he was supposed to relax and get the sleep he rarely get instead of waking up in the middle of the night and jerking off just because a dream had him all wet and bothered!

Thoughts of you suddenly invaded his mind as he stroked himself, his heavy breathing mixing with the dirty sounds of his fists moving against his slick cock.

Gripping tighter, he recalled the taste of your cunt in his tongue, and it was a phantom sensation that felt too real to be a mere dream.

He started to stroke himself faster, breathing heavily as he started to fantasize about the things that he wants you to do to him.

He wanted you to sit on his face, suffocate him with your thighs, and smother him.

He wants you to use him.

He couldn’t help but close his eyes and let his fantasy take over. The image of your hands moving on his cock flashed through his mind.

“Fuck, [Name]...” he groaned. Imagining that it was your fingers expertly coaxing pleasure from him instead.

The mere thought of you whispering filthy words in his ear sent a shiver down his spine, and a low whine escaped his lips, the muscles in his abdomen tensing and contracting with pleasure as he nears his release.

“fuckk, just a little bit more...”

He said as a whine escaped his lips.

He was about to cum until he suddenly heard a knock on his door.

“Shinazugawa-Sama? Are you alright? I’ve heard some weird sounds coming from here...”

He heard your voice say, and he froze.

Fuck... He forgot that you also lived with him.

©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛��𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: ❤️‍🔥𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐨.<𝟑

[blackcupidangel]

Things Batmom has said:

“Keep your father out of the kitchen, I’ll be back by morning.”

“We’ll if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions”

“It means you can either drive yourself home or I’ll have Alfred come get you.”

“Look at my handsome boys growing into fine gentlemen.”

“Stay safe, I love you”

“Eyes open, baby birds.”

“Alfred and I made food for the week, it’s in the fridge” *punch* “Your running shoes are on the left side of the closet” *kicks* “Make sure his project is done tonight, it’s due tomorrow.”

“I’m going to let you fix it, because if I fix it I’m going to jail.”

“It’s called,” she raises one fist “fuck around,” then she raises her other fist, “and find out.”

“You don’t even know me, you don’t even know my real name…” she leans in with harden eyes yet calm features, “I’m the fuckin boogie man”

“Do not play with me, I am not the one, two, or the three.”

“Don’t kill him.” //“I’m sorry but who’s the one tied up here?” //“Darling—“// “Because the way I see it, it’ll be in self defense.”

“Just one leg.” “No” “Both legs?” “No!” “You’re right….I’ll go for their kneecap.”

“So…you’ve chosen to disobey me.”

“Alright now…don’t write a check you can’t cash.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say? I couldn’t hear you because of your tone of voice.” She leans in with a hand cupping her ear to encourage a second chance.

“Do I look like booboo the fool?!”

“Brilliant.”

“As mad as I am, I can’t let you shoot him.”// “Just this once?” //“No.” //“I’ll go for the knees. Nothing vital.” //“Hhgh.”

“You really hit the nail on the head with that one Batman.”

“And WHO do you think you’re taking to?”

“Don’t tell your father.”

“Be home by 10, or I start looking windows.”

“I’m so very proud of you!”

“A girl’s gotta be prepared.”

“You know…about the whole guns thing, I’m still not so sure I feel as strongly as you do.”

“Way to go, Bruce.”

“Touch my child, I dare you. Make my day.”

“Ahh…Motherhood.”

—————————————————————————

Heyyyyyyy hotties I’m backkkkkkk. Send me asks and requests as I’m easing my way back into things. It might take me a while to find my flow and writing style so bear with me please. I missed you all so much honestly.

[erwinsvow]

we need more moment where shy!reader was studying and practicing new things to show rafe!! ik that girl is so kinky and it’s always the shy girls <33

YESS omg i srsly love that drabble when i reread it im like she was cookin.. i feel like shes the type to try to prep herself with a dildo bc she can never take all of rafe but imagine he found it n was like ?!!?

really—your boyfriend was too big. it was excessive, and though you could never find the words to tell him to stop or slow down—mostly because you didn't want him to—he always did anyways.

no matter how much you insisted that you could take all of him, rafe didn't like to listen. so you were stuck in a conundrum, and your choices were either lying to your boyfriend that it didn't hurt or accepting the fact that he'll never be as rough with you as you want.

you were willing to sit down and accept a lot of things without a fight—but this was not one of them.

one discreetly wrapped delivery later, you had yourself your very own rafe-sized dildo—a pretty pink color and of such a size that it had your insides churning with anticipation. about half an hour later with the use of some lube and lots of work, you were successfully able to fit about three-fourths. it wasn't perfect, yet, but it was a work in progress.

you didn't want to overdo it and end up insanely sore either, and you were beginning to realize even half was enough to have you cumming over and over again. so much so that you almost forgot about the date you had planned with rafe for that night—scrambling to get up and get ready.

that night, after a nice date and way too much ice cream, you realized you were too fucked out from your afternoon activity to go for another round for rafe. it was no big deal—except it happened the next day. then the day after that. and the one after that.

you had mastered the rafe-sized dildo, and you could take the entire thing after week of practice. but it also meant that it had been a full week without your boyfriend fucking you—something that hadn't happened since you had lost your virginity to him.

a little too clueless around rafe like always, you hadn't realized anything was wrong. rafe was on edge—pent up and unable to keep taking out his frustration on the golf course after almost breaking one of his clubs—but you didn't really notice.

you were waiting for tonight, after another date to show him your new-found skills, but of course, he didn't know that.

getting ready in your bathroom, blasting music and doing your makeup, you don't even hear the door open to your bedroom. rafe came to get you early, knowing you would need more time but way too antsy to wait alone in his car.

he sits on your bed, listening to the muffled music from behind the closed door. he's not impatient with you and hardly ever like this, but the current situation had left him more desperate to see you than usual.

leaning against your headboard, he feels something under your pillow. lifting it to move whatever it was—knowing you, the book you had been reading last night—his jaw clenches when he sees it. a dildo. not just any dildo—a huge dildo. under your pillow like you'd just been using it or something.

the pillow stays in his hand but he has an overwhelming urge to chuck it across the room. was this the reason the two of you hadn't had sex in a week? were you finding pleasure from some stupid toy instead of him?

"rafe?" you ask, stepping out of the bathroom and staring at the scene in front of you with big eyes. you're distractingly pretty everyday but even more so today with a short skirt and done-up face for the date he's not sure if he'll be taking you on.

your face burns with humiliation—stupidly realizing you hadn't put the damn thing away after last night. rafe is looking at you and then looking back at your bed, his fist tight around your pillow.

"um, i-"

"do you wanna explain? i'll give you five fuckin' seconds to explain-"

"no, it's not what it looks like-"

"really, kid? what it looks like is you're fuckin' this stupid thing instead of me. y'know, i'll just fuck off and you can have fun-"

rafe stands, not really angry but still sounding like he is. it's more pent-up frustration bubbling up, but you rush over to him anyways, looking so panicked he feels bad the second he said anything. he can't stay mad at you for longer than a minute.

"it's not what it looks like, i swear-"

"what is it then, huh?"

"i was just practicing! i was just trying to get better for you. see, it's yours." you motion to the toy still on the bed.

"huh?" rafe asks, looking between you and the bed.

"it's you. see. it's like... your size. um-" you get flustered again, shutting up in the fear that you've just said something to rafe that you should have kept to yourself. "i'm.. sorry?"

"no you're not."

"no, but i feel bad. are your feelings hurt? i'm sorry."

when rafe glances back at you, tearing his gaze away from the bright pink that's beginning to hurt his eyes, he realizes how sad you look, thinking you've done something to upset him.

"no, m'fine. just.. tell me next time. it was a jump scare."

"okay.." you stay still infront of him, awkwardly playing with your hands waiting for him to say something. you're a little concerned rafe's still upset, but he doesn't seem to look it, rather looking at you expectedly.

"what?" you question immediately, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"what? get on the bed. you've had enough practice. time for the real thing."

[bachiras-toaster]

bllk boys and their kinks : ̗̀➛

BLUE LOCK BOYS x f!reader

authors notes: i saw a request that asked for a size kink with kunigami but i decided to just do multiple blue lock characters’ kinks including kunigami. so go the requester that asked just know that i see you fr

contents. praise, dacryphilia, degradation, spanking, size kink, slapping

ft. rin, bachira, isagi, kunigami, sae, ness

RIN ITOSHI, DACRYPHILIA

and he’d be so damn mean about it too knowing that he loves it. as you’re positioned beneath him with your legs spread for him to hain easier access, your profusely blushing face would began to gather tears after going at it for so long. seeing your glossy eyes would only cause rin to be rougher, bullying your desperate hole as he longed to force more tears out of you. “‘re you seriously fucking crying? when i’m not even going as hard as i can be with you?”

MEGURU BACHIRA, MARKING

you marking him, him marking you— it doesn’t matter. either way, bachira could spend hours of his evening letting out little whimpers of pleasure as you left fresh hickeys across his collarbone, smiling foolishly at the knowledge that he would definitely do whatever it took to subtly reveal your work to all of his teammates. and of course, he would return the favour to you, leaving various bruises and marks on your shoulders and neck— particularly in the shapes of desperate love-bites, ensuring that you would think of him every time you saw yourself in the mirror.

YOICHI ISAGI, MASOCHISM

he is so embarrassed of it, he would probably die of literal shame if anyone else other than you found out about it. getting him to admit he even had any kinks was a rough journey, so once you found out, you abused the hell out of it. you’d spank him, bite down on his shoulders while you left hickeys, and even go as far to slap him across the face while you looked down at him on his knees, making him beg you to let him fuck you. part of you wanted to feel guilty, but the growing blush on his cheeks told you that he not only loved it, but actively wanted more.

RENSUKE KUNIGAMI, SIZE

and he tries to be gentle with you, he really does, but you’re so small in comparison to him and he just knows that if he were to even go a little bit too rough, he would break you— which only entices him further. he tries to shake off the desire to absolutely destroy you, but the sight of you just barely taking in his thick cock while his large hand ran across your panting chest to move up to your neck was enough to burn the wildest fantasies into this man’s mind. he wanted to see how much more you could take, because he surely wasn’t going to last knowing that he could cup the bottom half of your face with just one of his palms, muffling your vocal moans as you reached your high.

SAE ITOSHI, DEGRADATION

sigh he is such a bully. imagine you in doggy position while he hit it from the back in front of a mirror. you’d try to bury your head in the bedsheets to shield your blushing face, but he’d just grab you by the hair and force you to look at yourself while he leaned down and muttered dirty insults in your ear. “don’t try and hide. i want you to see how pathetic you look being fucked dumb by my cock. so fuckin’ weak, can’t even handle dick, but i bet it feels nice being handled like a slut, huh?” each string of words being even filthier than the last, he’s so good at saying the right things.

ALEXIS NESS, PRAISE

as expected from him, he just can’t get enough of it. he’s addicted to that feeling of you knelt between his legs as you jerked him off as quickly as you could, your hand sloppily running over the length of his throbbing cock before your thumb met to massage his reddened, aching tip. there would be literal tears in his eyes as he looked down to see your smirk of pleasure as your movements sped up, biting your lip when you whispered things like: “oh, look at that, you’re behaving so well. does that feel good? you look so pretty like this.”

[mattslolita]

꒰ biker!matt sturniolo ꒱ ⟡ headcanons !

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

꒰ SFW! ꒱

biker!matt would . . .

✦ have met you at a party, no doubt — he noticed you in your short, black dress with the ribbon tied in your locs as you stood around uneasily among the crowd of people you didn't know. he made it his mission to have spoke to you by the end of the night. sweet, unsuspecting you wouldn't have realized he'd been standing near you until you accidentally get bumped against him as he's leaning against a wall.

"oh! m'so sorry bout' that, i didn't see you there."

"s'alright, sweetheart. why's a sweet girl like you doin' at a party like this anyway, huh?"

"my friend dragged me here, i'd be home reading if i had it my way."

"want me to take ya home?"

biker!matt would . . .

✦ take you on a long, late night ride whilst you fill his head with any random thought that pops into your head — and as time goes on, you find yourself on more late night bike rides around the city with him, your figure huddled up close to his as you enjoy the breeze that sifts alongside you both.

biker!matt would . . .

✦ keep you close to him when you guys go out — his hand hangs dangerously low on your hips just above your skirt, and when he feels you drifting away he's immediately pulling you back towards him.

"aht, stop movin' around so much."

"sorry..."

✦ when you're leaning against his bike, he's got both if his hands resting right above your ass while massaging your lower back area. and he enjoys how flustered you get when his hands are on that particular part of your body — it's fun watching you squirm slightly under his touch.

"s'got you so worked up doll, huh? stay still..."

"keep your hand up there, an' maybe i could!"

biker!matt would . . .

✦ love picking out your outfits — his favorites are the cute little mini skirts you wear paired with a cute cardigan and matching bows that go in your hair.

✦ doesn't hesitate to take you shopping, either per your request or just because he wants to do something nice for you. he'll watch you pick out whatever you like, then let you drag him into the dressing rooms as you try on various outfits.

"whatcha think about this skirt? is it too short?"

"makes your ass pop out nicely. put it in the cart."

"matt!"

biker!matt would . . .

✦ unfortunately not put a label on you guy's relationship — he's not one to trust easily, so he's not ready to give you that title yet. however, he'd do things to let others know you're off limits such as...

biker!matt would . . .

✦ let you wear his signature leather jacket, no doubt because he wants everyone to know that you're his. if you're at some kind of outing, he'll casually drape it over your shoulders and shoot a death glare to anyone who even thinks about trying it.

✦ he'll make you put his jacket on when you insist on straying away from him to join your friends, but the jacket made sure to serve its purpose as a constant reminder to anyone.

"y'keep this on, 'kay? don't need anybody thinkin' they can try it."

"i highly doubt they will matt, i'm-"

"y'know i don't take no for an answer, bunny. keep the jacket on, got it?"

"yes sir."

biker!matt would . . .

✦ never let you smoke cigarettes, yet he keeps his marlboros tucked in the pocket of you denim skirt or your pocket in your cardigan — you got a custom made blue, eeyore lighter just for him.

"here, come light this f'me sweetheart."

✦ he's holding the cancer stick up to his lips whilst you flick the lighter on, getting momentarily distracted by how the fire accentuates his features but you focus again as the fire catches onto the cigarette successfully.

꒰ NSFW! ꒱

biker!matt would . . .

✦ fuck you against his bike any chance you got — he'd have you bent over, your hands perched on the seat as he's pounding into you from behind mercilessly.

"fuck, gonna make a mess all over my bike, aren't ya?"

"thas it sweet girl, fuckin' take it."

biker!matt would . . .

✦ have his hands all over you — his ring clad hands with either be wrapped around your neck whilst he's got you in missionary and doggy,

"fuckin' like being choked, sweetheart? wan' me to do it harder? such a naughty girl..."

✦ or they're groping your titties whilst you ride him.

"jus' like that doll, doin' so good f'me..."

biker!matt would . . .

✦ have a major corruption kink — everyone thinks you're his sweet, innocent girl clad in her cute bows and quiet personality; but matt knows better, and every chance he gets he's always reminding you about how he knows you're a freak ass on the low.

"always so quiet got nothin' comin' out ya mouth, now you're chokin on my dick like the good slut you are..."

"you like bein' fucked like this, don't you? such a naughty girl, so perfect f'me..."

biker!matt would . . .

✦ make you cockwarm him at parties when you guys are sitting alone, on the couch or something — if you're moving around too much, he's thrusting up into you subtly to get you to stop.

"s'not that hard doll. jus' sit still, got it? don't you dare move."

"fuck, matt..."

biker!matt would . . .

✦ be a brat tamer! you might be quiet and sweet most of the time, but when you act out, you're bratty — so matt makes sure to put you in your place.

"told you to stop actin' up, didn't i? now look, all fucked dumb on my cock..."

"you cum when i tell you to, got it? y'know what happens with you disobey me..."

"keep talkin' back sweetheart an' i'll give you somethin' to whine about..."

( lilly's corner 💌 )

i am all things biker!matt, y'all. this is mostly inspired by my biker!matt fic on my wattpad, so i thought i'd share it here🤭. feel free to spam my inbox with more biker!matt headcanons! 💌

@muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world

[wegc]

perv!channie and reader finally fucking but she teases him the whole time until he has had enough. “you’re such a fucking pervert” and “you’re so disgusting” all while she’s grinning at him and riding him like her life depends on it. he’s literally a second away from cumming as soon as he’s inside her. “you really think you deserve to cum? after fantasizing about fucking your best friend’s sister?” she denies him to cum for so long that he finally snaps and flips her over, pounding into her like a madman. “such a tease, you whore” and “don’t have much to say now, huh?” she cums so hard but he’s not done. even after he cums, he aint done either…

OK IM DONE AHHHHHH (please feel free to finish or add on or write more to it bc i would v much appreciate it)

i’m ascending. something about cocky!reader paired with a perpetually flustered, perv!chan is such a mouthwatering combination.

perv!chan whose cock twitches inside you every time you humiliate him with yet another reminder of how repulsive and depraved he is; he can’t bite back immediately because you’re right. he’s nothing but a disgusting pervert and he’s fortunate that you aren’t completely appalled by him.

when you grip the base of his cock and guide him inside your dripping cunt, chan feels like he could pass away beneath you. every delusion of his, whether it emerged in his bedroom or your washroom—a mere room away from you—was coming true and it was far better than he had ever imagined.

all he can do is pant and whine under you, taking in the sight of your tits bouncing in his face and the cute flush of your face, which scrunched up in pleasure. most importantly, the feeling of your cunt—the warmest thing in the world—took his breath away; his cunt, all his—he’d make sure of it.

the overwhelming feeling of being inside you, the epiphany and high of all his dreams and desires coming true right before him has his poor cock pulsing inside you, seconds away from cumming. each flutter of your cunt, each moment your fingers teased his nipples or when your hot, wet mouth whined against his had him feeling lightheaded—he knew he wouldn’t last long.

and your teasing—while it did turn him on, it also infuriated him. god, you were such a fucking brat—a mouthy little handful. did you frankly know what he thought of every time he stroked his cock to the image of you? you wouldn’t be behaving so pretentiously if you knew all the things he yearned to do to you, all the positions he’d bend you in, all the fondling and groping he had dreamt of, all the mean and obscene remarks he’d taunt you with, all the ways in which he would make you beg for more. you had no fucking clue.

before you even realize it, you’re pulled off his cock and manhandled to your hands and knees, where the drilling of chan’s cock seizes your breath. he’s suddenly so deep inside your cunt—you swear the tip of his cock might kiss your cervix—and you can scarcely catch some air every time he snaps his hips to go harder.

chan would grin, smacking your ass, laughing shakily at the sounds of your yelps and wailing with each drag of his length. your face is buried in his pillow, but even that hardly muffles your loud sobs and pleas.

“god, you don’t ever shut up do you?”

“fuckin’ brat, you want more?”

“dirty little thing, you’re just as gross as me.”

“you feel like a whore, don’t you? doesn’t it make you feel dirty, knowing everything i’ve done? you hate that you like it, don’t you?”

chan, who fucks until dawn, cumming continually inside you and pulling out periodically to observe and engrave the way his cum oozes out of your gaping hole. he feels so pleased as he takes in the bruises and marks he’s littered on your body, marking you as his. or even better, the way your eyes gloss over, looking at him desperately with tearful eyes. your hair is dishevelled, draped messily across his ruined sheets, and your lips are bruised with his kisses and nibbles, lipgloss pathetically smudged away.

“so fucking pretty—my pretty girl, yeah? you wanna go again? can’t go without me, hm? need me so bad to stop all that fussing, right?”

“you’re all mine now, you know that? can’t fuck you just once—can’t have you looking at other people.”

[evilminji]

Huh >.> you know how Crechelings are basicly, like... possessed?

Like? They are cute af. But they VERY MUCH are constantly reaching out too and listening too the Force cause they are Baby and know jack shit? They are in that "why? Why? Why?" ×1000 stage of life. But instead of asking ADULTS, who might not always be on hand?

Well... the FORCE is on hand.

24/7!

Why NOT ask a cosmic driving force of all creation is you should have juice or water? This fruit or that vegetable? What are we gonna play today Effectively God? I'm a toddler! I don't know what boundaries are! Nor do I realize I probably shouldn't be bothering you with every single thought that passes through my head!

Yeeeeeah....

Tiny force sensitives? HELLA possessed.

They'll pull shit like "speak in prophecy" and "I stole a ship a can't even reach the controls off, to thwart an assassination attempt, because The Force Told Me Too, and that's why I'm on another planet and missed nap time." Plus the fun ol *hands a jedi master a rock* "the force says you'll need this! :D " *walks away, oblivious to the confusion they have wrought*

There is a REASON Creche master have to be SUPER patient types. And that parents are so often like "yeah, yeah we can't handle our kid. We love them. But this is beyond what we can parent."

Cause when your kid? Looks up from their mashpotatos? To casually drop "X is going to die soon." Or "he's going to betray you, you know" like??? Sweetie. Honey, youngling, you're THREE. Wtf. It's a BIT MUCH.

But? What I'm getting at?

I wanna see Creepy!ForceAvatar!Crechelings? Like it's... it's just a STAGE kids grow out off?

And I want it to save their fuckin LIVES.

Like? During the later stages of the Clone Wars. The Force is getting agitated. Knows what's coming. Does NOT like such imbalance and death. So? Even if the OLDER ones either can't hear it clearly or won't listen? The BABIES sure can.

And it's like a FUCKING HIVEMIND.

Absolutely HORRIFYING to behold.

All these lil babies. These wee lil toddlers n smol kiddos. Just... Stopping. Misstep. Balls bouncing past hands frozen, toys mid "woosh" motion, spoons half way to faces. All of it. Just... stopped.

They all cock their heads.

Like animals trying to hear a sound better.

Put down what they were doing. Calm as you please, ignoring everything around them, everyONE. Gathering their things from their rooms. Gathering the babies. Who are... oddly well behaved. It's the most calm and orderly anyone's ever see them. None of the creche masters can get their attention. Every attempt to physically get in the way is dodged before it's even attempted.

The children... calmly. Pleasantly. Like taking a stroll.

Steal a series of ships.

Broad daylight.

In... in front of everyone. No one can even STOP them. The Force is helping. All anyone can do is just? Follow.

They settle basicly a few weeks into the uncharted zone, in an old temple no one knew was there. All they will fuckin say is variations of "the Force says we live here now!" Like? Subtle this was NOT. I guess... we live here now?

.....huh.

It IS weirdly easier to think way out here.

As though we were no longer standing in the middle of some terrible smoke cloud. Nice and calm. Lots of Light. Unlike back o-.....waaaaait a fucking second. *sound of various Master's and council members connecting dots in their head*

>:O

@legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @spidori @lolottes @nerdpoe

[total-dxmure]

ೃ࿔ CHERRY FLAVORED →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairing: mega fan!ellie williams x rock star!reader

summary: your guitarist was carted off to rehab after just one month into your recent tour. fuck. there’s only one thing you can do, and that’s hire a replacement. your band thinks it’s going to be nearly impossible to find someone that is on the same level of talent as your “beloved” guitarist. you don’t have high hopes that anyone can nail the songs quite like he did either, if you’re being brutally honest. enter ellie- she’s a mega fan. the girl knows every lyric and note like the back of her hand. . . and everything about you, which isn’t creepy at all. her apparent obsession with you is something that you and your tour manager can overlook if it means carrying on with the rest of the tour. forced proximity with a stalker-level fan . . . what’s the worst thing that could happen?

warnings: smut in next chapter, talk of substance abuse, the reader is a tease and a bit of a bitch but it’s hot i promise, ellie is obsessed with reader to an unhealthy degree.

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

It was the kind of love that tortured poets mused over. Ribs straining against a heavy heart. 

Ellie had deluded herself, as any love drunk person does, that she wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle on the floor if she were to meet you. She could keep her cool- downplay the crushing significance you held in her life. Your voice was constantly ringing in her ears. She could see your face in perfect clarity any time she closed her eyes. Pictures like snapshots played out behind her eyelids, and yet you always felt a million miles away for her. You were a perfect performer, situated on your sky-high pedestal, always out of her puny reach. 

Because Ellie, as much as she despised this fact and dreamed of greatness, was a nobody. She grew up in a tiny town of no noteworthiness, her adolescent years spent dreaming about the planets and playing guitar with Joel. By all accounts Ellie was normal, while you were certainly not. Still, she liked to tell herself that she’d somehow manage to make herself worthy of your affections if she were ever to be blessed with them. 

Finding herself in a situation like this seemed like an impossibility. She was partially convinced that she was daydreaming, having concocted some elaborate fantasy just to feed the insatiable ache. She was starved for you with no way to feed herself. 

All it had taken was a single audition tape. One. Single. Tape. Ellie was staring, wide eyed, at Gene fuckin’ Murray. 

The blood rushed from her head, hands breaking out instantaneously into a clammy sweat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t function at the realization that she was staring at one of the people that she had worshiped for years. Gene’s talent had been praised by the likes of Lars Ulrich and Danny Carey. He wasn’t popular just for his looks but for his undeniable talent. 

And he was staring straight at Ellie, arms crossed over his toned chest as he waited expectantly. She felt like an idiot. Should she be playing? If so, what did they want her to play? Surely one of their songs. She’d glossed past the fact that she was a megafan, instead making it sound like she was just looking for a successful band to join. She was talented. No, Ellie was really talented. 

She wasn’t just a technical player, but excelled at making her own rules. She enjoyed the creative freedom that playing the guitar granted, and felt as though the world needed more Jimi’s and Van Halen’s. Ellie excelled at thinking outside of the box. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

So she took a deep breath and tried to steady her heart, once again stepping up to the mic. If there was one thing that all of your bandmates had in common, it was the attitude. She’d watched hundreds of interviews, had studied all of their movements and mannerisms. . .she understood you down to a science. 

“So do you want me to play or what?” Ellie spoke into the mic, gripping the neck of the guitar in the hopes that it might act as an anchor. She was scared that she might float away. 

The manager’s eyebrows twitched at her sudden change in attitude but he didn’t say anything, merely turned to look at Gene. For a second everyone just stared at her, like a bug under a microscope. After what felt like five minutes but was really just five seconds, Gene broke out into a grin, motioning to her with a flick of his wrist. He wasn’t confident in her, Ellie could tell. 

She had a sweet face, she knew that. Big green eyes and freckles- she was unsuspecting. People were usually shocked to find out that she had wrestled competitively in high school and had no problem putting a man three times her size on his ass. People expected very little from her, and perhaps that was part of Ellie’s real charm. 

“What song?” She was staring at Gene now, gripping her guitar pick between two sweat-slick fingers. 

“What ‘bout ‘Sometime Soon’? Know that one?” His tone was teasing. Condescending. 

The song was fast paced. It was supposed to be played loud and hard- one of your angrier songs. Ellie knew that you had been the one to write this one, meaning it was one of her favorites. The notes weren’t beginner friendly, but it wasn’t exactly hard for her. 

It was more style, less technical ability- which meant that Ellie would have no problem making this song her bitch. 

It was obvious that Gene was the one meant to judge her. The manager was just that- a manager. They needed an actual musician to listen in. So she took a deep breath and readied herself. . . 

and then the sound of your singing voice blasted into the booth. Drums, bass- she was meant to play with you. 

She almost missed her que, eyes widening in nervousness. She thought that she’d be playing all by her lonesome. She thought wrong it would seem. They’d started her off right in the middle of the song. Probably to throw her off. She jumped in, fingers sliding along the frets to shape out the correct notes. She tucked her guitar pick against the palm of her hand with her thumb, using the pads of her fingers to tap the strings. Faster. Faster. Faster. She didn’t look up from her guitar to look at the men’s reactions to her playing. Instead she just pretended she was standing in the living room of her apartment, hellbent on getting another noise complaint from the bitchy nextdoor neighbor. 

Her calloused fingers pinched the strings, satisfied with the way the guitar whined over the speakers. The guitar solo in this song was meant to be impressive- and it was, she had to give it to Leon. A lot of it was just bullshitting though. He’d admitted that he came up with the solo in the actual sound booth off of the top of his head while they were recording the song. 

The man was a god. He deserved “guitarist of the year” two years in a row. Ellie had the Los Angeles native beat though. Where he had grown up in the constant presence of “the greats”, Ellie had grown up in a constant state of boredom. She’d been playing the guitar since she was fourteen. Every day she’d sit down for hours and practice until her fingers bled. . . literally. She had thousands of hours on Leon, and she knew that with certainty. 

Ellie moved the guitar up and down gently with her fret hand, prolonging the last note so that it cried the way she wanted it to. The muscles in her arms were sore from how hard she had been tensing during the song. She’d been a lot more mechanical about it than she was used to, but she had something to prove. 

After a second she looked up from her guitar to gauge everyone’s reactions. The manager had dropped his cold and indifferent demeanor, instead flashing her a small smile. It bolstered her, gave her the strength to turn and look at Gene. 

He still had his arms crossed over his chest, and for a second Ellie was sure that he would tell her that she sucked. She widened her stance, shuffling her feet so that she was in a more defensive position. His heated gaze made her feel as though she needed to protect herself from whatever mental anguish he was about to put her through. 

“I thought she was kick ass,” Gene finally spoke up, giving Ellie a small thumbs up. Her face lit up into a wide smile before she could school her reaction into one of indifference. “What do you think? You’re the one that calls all the shots.” He spoke behind him, looking down at someone that had been hidden on the couch all along. 

Ellie squinted her eyes, taking a step closer to the glass to see if there was another businessman she’d somehow overlooked. 

She saw your hair before she saw anything else. It was freshly dyed, different than the last she’d seen you in all of the recent tabloid photos. You were clad in leather- pants so tight that they looked like a second skin. Your top was just as restrictive, breasts spilling out from the top, midriff revealed to show off the small silver piercing you had decorating your belly button. 

You were Hecate in the flesh- dark, sinister, mysterious and capable of anything. Ellie didn’t think that it would be possible, but you were even prettier in person. The sight of you sent a shock through her system, and for a second she felt her knees quiver, as if she could no longer hold up the weight of her own body. Her insides turned to mush; white, hot mush. 

The Stendhal syndrome: Ellie had been brought to the very precipice of existence by sight alone. She was so overcome by your mere existence that she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears. Body trembling, eyes locked on to your face and nothing else- it felt like she might faint. She remembered reading about the syndrome once before in an art history class she took in college. 

“Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty. . . I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations.” 

The urge to flee was just as great as the urge to get her hands on you was. She was thankful for the wide stance she was currently in, because if her legs had been any closer together then she was positive she would have lost her balance and fallen over. 

You were right there in front of her. You’d been right in front of her the entire time, she’d just been so focused on Gene that she hadn’t even seen you in her panic. She stumbled forward, her sneakered foot catching the jack for the amp. She slapped her hands over her ears as a blood curdling screech began blaring over the speakers. 

Ellie could have died. In fact. . . she just might. She dropped her guitar roughly on the ground as she raced over towards the amp, fingers shaking as she turned the knob to the volume.

The booth, once again, was silent. Silent enough to hear a pin drop. Slowly she turned, grimacing when she noticed the looks on everyone’s faces. She’d embarrassed herself and ruined her chance. Even worse was the fact that she’d humiliated herself in front of you. 

She had somehow deluded herself into believing that the two of you were soulmates over the years. She’d compared your birth charts, life numbers- had taken multiple celebrity compatibility tests. All signs pointed to a resounding yes. The two of you were star crossed lovers, cursed to never know one another. She had told herself that if she were ever to bump into you in person that she’d be able to keep her cool. Ellie was certain that she could pretend that she didn’t know who you are- could downplay the significance that you held  

Her ignorance was laughable. She’d been so overcome by your mere presence that she’d stumbled on air while standing completely still. You were standing up straight now, and even from her spot behind the thick glass she could tell how much taller you were than her. You had to be wearing heels or platforms, because according to Google you were- 

“You know how many auditions we’ve listened to today?” You had grappled the mic from the tech and were now hunched over his soundboard, the lights from all of the buttons and knobs casting strange, beautiful shadows over your face. Your eyeliner was dark and smoked out around your eyes, and in that moment Ellie wondered if you were an angel or a demon. “Twelve. Twelve fuckin’ people have walked into that booth today. Every single one of them has been absolute shit. So bad, in fact, that I’ve wanted to blow my fuckin’ brains out in this buildings tiny, piss-stained bathroom.” 

Ellie blanched, lips losing their pink color as the blood drained from her face. She was about to pass out. Her vision was already starting to tunnel. She grabbed onto one of the microphone stands to hold herself up, trying to keep her expression hard and unreadable. People often told her that she had “dead eyes”, and she could only pray that her face wasn’t giving her crushing grief away. It felt like someone had just died; like she had just died. Actually, she would have rather you just go ahead and stab her then tell her she sucked. You were her idol, her dream girl, her everything. 

And you were telling her that you’d rather blow your fucking brains out then listen to her play. How was she supposed to recover from this? She’d heard the saying “don’t meet your heroes” a thousand times, but this? She’d rather you just be a bitch to her. Actually, Ellie would probably like that. This was the worst thing she could have ever heard. Her nose twitched as tears began pooling in her eyes. She blinked a few times, praying that you couldn’t tell in the nearly pitch black room you were standing in. 

“But this?” You turned towards your manager and pointed passionately at Ellie. “This is music.” 

Breath left her lungs in a loud, audible whooshing sound, like a balloon deflating. Her shoulders relaxed, the hand that was white knuckling the mic stand falling limp at her side. No, you didn’t hate her. You liked her. 

You liked her. 

Everyone had their vices. Leon’s had, apparently, been copious amounts of prescription drugs- often consumed simultaneously. You were used to getting what you wanted. You drank whenever you wanted to, fucked just about anyone that peaked your interest and got away with your usual rotten antics and bitchy behavior. You lived the lifestyle that you’d always dreamt of, even when you were a little kid. 

You enjoyed putting on shows. You were flamboyant, loud, and weren’t afraid of expressing yourself. Teachers often described you as a “free thinker” back in your elementary school days. You dressed yourself for school each morning, each outfit louder and more daring than the next. You were an artist, and like most artists you had some inner demons that you fought against. You still fought tooth and nail, even to this day. 

Finally though, after what felt like a thousand years of waiting and biding your time, you had the life you had always yearned for. 

You sold out arenas, appeared on the front page of just about every magazine imaginable, and had celebrities clamoring over themselves to be your “best friend” of the week. Things were good. 

But also a bit empty. 

The friends that you’d made in your youth only used your name for bragging rights. Your parents had stopped showing up to concerts years ago, instead choosing to listen about your successes through their shitty television shows. Life felt a bit hollow.

Exciting. . . just different than you had always been used to. 

“Come play with us.” One of the women whined from her spot on your plush hotel mattress. The bombshell blonde was already stripped down to her underwear, her eyes glazed over from whatever overpriced alcohol she’d already taken from the suite's bar, at your expense no doubt. 

Your manager was used to the up-charges on the company card. He would probably be relieved in the morning when he found out that you didn’t break anything. There was still time for that, of course. It was only one in the morning, which meant you had nine more hours to get fucked up and wreck the cushy room. 

“I’m not feeling up to it right now.” You said simply, already disinterested in the two women you had invited to bed with you tonight. You were holding a beer bottle loosely between two of your fingers, swishing the remainder of the room temperature alcohol absentmindedly.

You weren’t much of an “observer” when it came to sex, more of a very active participant. Still, all you could do was sit back in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, muscles tense after a long show. You weren’t exactly sure why you’d invited the women back to the hotel. They were both attractive and had come onto you at the same time. It was obvious what they had been insinuating, and who were you to deny two beautiful women? The first thing that had popped into your head being “a threesome might make me happy”.

Except now you were bored out of your skull and would much rather be sleeping right now than watch two ditzy girls clumsily fondle each other’s fake breasts. 

“Please? I want you to fuck me so bad-” There was a knock at the door, causing both girls to go silent for a second. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaustion threatening to swallow you up whole. If it was your manager here to yell at you for “accidentally” breaking an amp at tonight's show you were going to scream. It was too late for that bullshit. Still, you saw this excuse as a blessing. 

“Hear that, ladies? Looks like we’ve gotta pack it up. Thanks for showing me a good time.” You stood up from the seat with a small groan, placing your beer bottle onto the counter clumsily. The glass clattered, almost spilling all over the shag carpet. 

The two girls groaned, obviously frustrated that they hadn’t successfully gotten you into bed with them. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you lately. If this had happened a few months ago then. . . well, you would have fucked them- no questions asked. Were you maturing out of your “wild and crazy” phase? No, you didn’t think so. 

You bent down, scooping up a discarded bra so that you could toss it onto the bed. Fabric rustled behind you as they began to quickly sort themselves out, hoping to beat you to the door. 

“Who is it?” You called out in a sing-song voice, deciding that if your manager was already angry enough to show up in front of your door at one in the morning then you might as well have a little fun with it. 

There was no reply on the other side of the door, causing you to scoff. He was giving you the silent treatment. You reached out for the door handle, only to have your shirt yanked on by one of the women. You could hear the seams ripping against the weight of her, her eyes wide with desperation. 

“Please let me show you a good time. I promise I’m good- I swear.” There was a fear of rejection there, you could tell. 

You felt a bit guilty and were quick to lean in to press a kiss on her cheek. “Baby, you’re gorgeous. I’m sure you would have been wonderful- but I’m tired. That’s all, okay? It’s nothing personal.” 

And with that you opened the door. The air from the hallway was brisk, causing goosebumps to instantly break out on your bare arms and legs. You were expecting the balding, bespectacled Barry to be standing on the other side of the door, all in a huff about “expenses” and “damages to the venue”. Blah, blah, blah. 

Instead it was Ellie. A very broken looking Ellie. 

The girls were quick to straighten out their outfits, their attention now turned towards the guitarist. Groupies like this didn’t care who they slept with, just so long as they were getting it in with someone that was in the band. 

“You’re Emma. . . right? The new guitarist? You were so great tonight. I mean- Leon was always a bit of a poser anyway. You’re killing it.” One of the girls started, moving to stand next to you in the doorway. 

You weren’t sure why, but you felt angry. Genuinely angry. Were you jealous of Ellie? No, because you were sure they would still rather fuck you than her. You’d been their first choice, afterall. Maybe you felt the need to shelter Ellie a bit? Yeah, that had to be it. She was still learning the ropes, and the last thing she needed was to be sexually harassed in a hotel hallway.

“. . . -lie” She was mumbling under her breath, eyes locked on the expensive carpet beneath her ratty old sneakers. 

She had changed out of her stage clothes and put on jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair looked wet too, meaning she’d already taken a shower. She smelled earthy- Alpine, even. 

You leaned against the frame, slamming your hand against the doorway to box the two women in, hoping to keep them away from the newbie. They flinched but both seemingly weren’t off put in their newfound pursuit. 

“You’re the most talented guitarist I’ve ever seen live. I mean. . . your solos were incredible.” You hadn’t managed to successfully remember the girl’s names. Just that they were friends with two guys that had worked security for the venue tonight. People often took advantage of connections like that in order to get close to you and your bandmates. It usually worked too. Tonight was different though. Tonight you had a real stick up your ass. 

Ashley? Amber? Sophie? God, you were bad with names.

“. . . -is Ellie.” Your guitarist mumbled again, slowly moving back down the hall in the direction of her suite. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion over her attitude, and you were quick to stumble out of your room and down the hall after her. 

“Wait! Emma, can we get an autograph!” One of the half naked girls called after the two of you, trying desperately to shrug on her shirt to follow after. 

Ellie turned then, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. You’d. . . You’d never seen her like that before. 

“My name is fucking Ellie! Who is Emma? Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” She dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, trying desperately to find her keycard. 

The girls gasped at her outburst, jostled by the look of pure evil on her face. Even you were taken aback, not used to this kind of attitude from her. Still, you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t know why she was acting like this. 

Ellie was what some would call a “mega fan”, though that would be putting it lightly. The word “stalker” would be more appropriate. Your manager knew that before he even messaged her for an audition. He’d checked all of her social media sites and scrubbed the internet for anything he could find on her. One thing was made very clear: 

Ellie was obsessed with you. 

For whatever reason she seemed to be keeping it a secret from Gene and Chris. All she fessed up to them was that she enjoyed your music, which was why she’d auditioned in the first place. She’d conveniently left out the dedicated fan blogs and the status of her cult-like following.

You didn’t mind it. Sure, it was a bit creepy. . . but she was talented and you liked her. She could hold her own against Gene and Chris’ constant asshole behavior, and had been receptive to Barry trying to teach her the ropes of the business. It was obvious that she wanted this, even if her motives weren’t exactly purely for the music. You’d let her be as close to you as she wanted if it meant that she’d continue playing the way that she does. The crowd had loved her, and it was only her second show with the band. 

She was a bit shy, but that would pass eventually. You remember your early debut days vividly. You’d been just like her, maybe even a little worse. 

“Hey, stop for a second.” You reached out to grab her wrist, stopping her from fleeing after her outburst. She turned to glare at you, but her eyes softened as she took in your features. 

You could feel her arm trembling in your grasp, so you gently let go. No matter how many times you touched her or spent time with her, she still seemed to get overly nervous in your presence. It was endearing. 

“Aren’t you a bit busy? Don’t let me ruin your fun-” She was being sarcastic. 

“I was done with them by the time you knocked on the door. They aren’t exactly my type. I’m not sure why I even invited them back in the first place.” If you had to guess, you’d probably done it out of habit. You were used to inviting people back to your room or tour bus. 

Ellie didn’t seem pleased by your answer. If anything it seemed to upset her even more. She bristled, reaching back into her pocket for her keycard. What did she want to hear? That you hadn’t touched them? You groaned, wiping an exhausted hand down your face. 

The elevator dinged behind you, meaning the girls had finally taken the hint and were leaving with their tails tucked between their legs. 

“Are you jealous or something?” You asked once the elevator doors were closed. The last thing you needed were the girls trying to sell information to some shitty gossip magazine. 

She froze, eyes going wide and lips going pale. It was almost like she didn’t think that you knew all about her dirty little secret. A part of you wanted to tease her. Really make her squirm. 

“Why would I be jealous? Those girls weren’t exactly my type either.” She was good at playing things off. Ellie was a good liar. 

But you were good at sniffing out the bullshit. It was one of your many talents. 

“Not of me,” You leaned against the wall next to her door, watching with curious eyes as she began fumbling in her pockets for her key. “Of them. Do you wish I had taken you back to my room or something?” You cooed flirtatiously, flashing her one of your most sinister smiles. 

She coughed, turning around so that she could hide her face from you. This nearly had you groaning out loud in disappointment. Was she blushing? Do her freckles look even brighter when her skin gets all pink and hot? 

Nah, it was dangerous to think like this. Band members were always off limits. It was a recipe for disaster. The last thing you needed was another Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham situation on your hands. Your PR team wouldn’t be able to recover. They’d just barely gotten over the “Leon” incident by the skin of their teeth. 

Your old band member having to be tackled by three cops in a hotel lobby was horrible. It made you look sloppy. And sleeping with the brand new edition to the band was definitely sloppy. 

“You’re acting crazy.” Ellie told you, shoving the keycard into the lock so that she could clammer into her room. 

Pushing the boundaries was sort of your thing. You enjoyed being bad, fuck the consequences. Right about now you wanted to kiss Ellie. What would her reaction be? Was she a good kisser? You wanted to know. No- you needed to know. 

“You’re right. I’m talking nonsense, don’t listen to me,” You called after her into the room. “Sweet dreams.” 

And with that you sauntered back to your own room, practically purring in delight over the fact that it had been that easy to get to Ellie like that. You loved pushing the boundaries. . . and now you had a new toy to play with.

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[thinkinonsense]

i just listened to sabrina's new album and oh my god the song slim pickins is such a song that was written from daydreaming about lumberjack!logan, oh and the recent fic that you reblogged was just so yummy and perfect for that song especially the lyrics "a boy who's jacked and nice" like god having to settle down for less because nobody can be him 😭😭😭 need him expeditiously im afraid

it's slim pickins

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: yearning!! fluff, tiny nsfw conversation (nothing graphic)

a/n: this request couldn't have come in at a better time because i'm seeing sabrina on opening night of her tour tomorrow night!! <3

masterlist

"am i just destined to be alone forever?"

another friday night in the hole in the wall bar outside of town. another date gone horribly wrong. your question hangs heavy in the air as you gossip to your best friend who's bartending tonight.

"you keep picking douche bags." she answers without missing a beat.

"well, that's fuckin' rude." you slur slightly, sipping on your third fruity drink tonight.

"well, it's fuckin' true." she smiles, looking over your shoulder at a group of men that walked in. "why don't you go talk to one of them? they look hot."

you spin around in your stool to see a group of lumberjack workers. these were the men that you worked with, you can't flirt with them.

"i work with those guys!" you hiss.

"sooo...?" she smirks.

both of you quickly end the conversation with the five guys approach the bar. the last thing you needed was for these guys to see the desperate and pathetic look on your face. quickly, you rummage through your purse for some cash to put down.

"what are you doing here, doll face?" a familiar voice asks.

you look up and see the most handsome of the men, in front of you; logan. twice your size, buff, toned, tan... god, you had such a crush on him. never in a million years would you go after him though, he's too good to want a girl like you. you were just a friend. he make small talk with you, laughed at your jokes, calls you little nicknames, and refills the coffee pot for you but thats what friends do, right?

"oh... um, i'm just-"

"she's been sitting here moaning and bitching to me all night about her horrible date." your best friend smiles then introduces herself to logan with a handshake.

"thanks asshole." you mumble under your breath at her, making logan chuckle.

"tough night?" he asks, looking down at you in a way that makes heat rises up your face.

"kinda, but i'll save you all the gory details." you admit, sliding off the tall stool a little ungracefully. "have a good night, logan."

"wait, doll face." he says, grabbing your arm to balance you. "wanna talk about it? i'm sure your friend here is busy."

the alcohol let him take you to one of the booths. all the other men noticed logan and you sitting together, definitely making mental notes to tease you both on monday.

"so, what's on your mind?" logan asks, taking a swig of his beer.

"it's nothing really..." your mouth says one thing but your phone says another; practically buzzing off the table.

"you sure?" he raises a brow.

"uh... yeah?" you sound confused as you peak at the notification. an annoyed groan falls from your lips as you slam the phone back down and sink into the booth. "why? why? why?"

"why what?" he squints.

"be honest, do i have dumbass written on my forehead?" you sigh, hazily looking over at logan. the question threw him off guard; unsure if you're joking or not.

"no." he answers.

" well, i sure feel like one. every guy i've gone out with is either the most obnoxious asshole i've ever met who's still hung up on his ex or he's absolutely perfect but he's just not ready for a commitment right now? what the fuck does that even mean?"

all of your drunk rambling surprised logan. at work, he's only seen your shy personality as you scribble down numbers and log them into spreadsheets. this was a completely different side of you.

"i know what you're thinking, 'why not just try dating a woman?'. well, i fucking would if this town wasn't stuck in the 50's, except the men aren't going to war in order to get away from you, instead they just run back in between their ex's thighs and pull that 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit."

it was getting harder for logan not to crack at your silly yet, adorable expressions as you rant.

"and the worst part is that they can't even get a woman to orgasm." you say a little quieter. logan stores that quote in his pocket for another time. "a few weeks ago, i literally had a man in my bed who didn't know the difference between their, there, and they're! i don't know who's stupider, him for not knowing or me for letting him give me the worst head in my life."

if you were even a little sober, this would be mortifying. sitting in front of your work crush and spilling pathetic details of your love life to him. if you were even a little sober, you would have notice his eyes turn dark and lustful under the dim bar lighting. logan couldn’t fathom that you were having trouble in your love life.

"sounds like it's slim pickins out there."

"you have no idea." you sigh.

"if it makes you feel any better, i don't think that you're stupid."

"you're just saying that to be polite. trust me, everyone thinks i'm an idiot for taking these guys back every time. im just like my mom, my sisters, my friends, and every other girl i know. we make up excuses for their shitty behavior because we are afraid to be alone."

logan could see tears forming in your waterline, about to roll down your cheek. it hurt him to see you so heartbroken over these losers. everyday at work, you came in like a ray of fucking sunshine. you didn't deserve to be treated like this.

"it's not your fault that those asshole don't know how to treat a woman." he sighs, leaning forward in an attempt to comfort you.

"i know, i know..." your voice was cracking and you didn't want logan to see you so vulnerable. suddenly, you rise from the booth. "thanks for listening, logan."

"where do you think you're going, doll face?" he asks, following you out the door.

"should head home." you mumble, pulling up the number of a car service about twenty minutes out.

"let me give you a ride home." he offers. "you've been drinking too much."

it's late, you're exhausted and heartbroken so, you let him help you into his truck. it's kinda old but full of character, like logan.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" logan asks, breaking the silence in the car. "still sad?"

you shrug. "think i'm just going to become a nun."

he tried, he really did, but he had to laugh.

"sweetheart, there's no need to become a nun."

"well, i'm never going to find the man i'm looking for so, might as well join the sisterhood."

"what are you looking for in this dream man?"

logan's question has your eyes wondering over to where his left hand sets on the wheel and his right on thigh. the images of what his hands could do flood your fuzzy mind.

"j-just a good guy who's um, who's kind, jacked... respectful, good with his hands...."

it was shameless, your staring that is. logan worried you might get drool on the car seat, not that he would mind.

"hm... those seem like simple requirements there."

"apparently not." you giggle. "it's fine, though. i'm sure the nuns will be friendly."

"still thinking about joining the 'sisterhood'?" he asks, pulling up to your drive way.

"maybe... i'll give it twenty-four hours and if he doesn't come knocking on my door, i'll just buy a chasity belt and go off the grid with the nuns." your smile warmed his cold bitter heart. "thanks for the ride, lo. i'll see you monday."

as logan watches you fumble with your keys and make your way inside, he fights an internal battle over his feelings. he has had a crush on you since the day the two of you first met. by the end of the week, you had baked him some cupcakes, babbling about how you do this for all the new employees, which was far from the truth he later learned.

you captured his heart. even when he tried to burry his feelings for you, when logan looked at you, his world stood still for a moment. he looked forward to all your silly jokes in the break room or the ridiculous gossip you would tell him when he lingered outside of your office door. he couldn't let you slip away into the arms of another asshole who didn't deserve you.

before logan could comprehend what he was doing, his feet lead him up to your door, knocking twice. the wooden door opened and he knew he made the right decision.

there you were in your light blue and grey plaid pajamas with a cupcake in your hand and vanilla frosting on your bottom lip. logan had never seen you look prettier.

"hey? did i leave something in the–"

in the blink of an eye, logan’s hands reach up to caress your jaw, leaning in until his mouth engulfs yours. the taste of vanilla and alcohol surrounded both of you. forgetting the cupcake in your hand, dropping it to reach up and pull logan closer. kissing him was like drinking a glass of wine after a long day. no more stress or anxiety over anyone else’s bullshit. the two of you gasp against each others lips, catching your breath.

“i could be the good guy, you know?” logan pants, now forever addicted to your taste. “i could be the good guy for you.”

your heart fluttered as you stared up at his pretty hazel eyes, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger. this had to be a very realistic dream, thats the only answer to this.

“you would do that for me, logan?” your delicate voice could bring him to his knees, worshiping the ground you walk on.

“i would do anything for you, honey.” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you again. maybe your dream guy wasn't as far away as you thought?

[dimicul]

jealous smug ex bf ghost 🫡

this is not edited and i wrote this at 4am 😭

thinking about the silent smouldering confidence radiating off of ghost when he knows he’s better in every way compared to your new boyfriend.

he doesn’t understand you the same way. sure, maybe your relationship with him wasn’t the most perfect, but it’s gotta be better than this arsewipe you picked up from the streets. he just doesn’t get you; your little tics, what makes you smile, laugh, cry, snort — cum.

you see it in every subtle jerk of Ghost’s body, every glance he passes you. pure smugness when your new boy toy drops the weighted gun several times, snaps at you when you try to help him; you can’t even point it out or go berserk if Ghost breathes in your direction, because nobody else sees it - just you. he reckons that’s why you’re perfect for him. nah, he knows it.

you suppose it’s a curse of some sort - it’s not like your boyfriend is a complete dickhead, but he messes up once and you find yourself wondering if Ghost would have done the same. if he’d allow it all.

“You’re pointin’ south.”

Ghost rolls his shoulders back, head cocked to the side as he watches your boyfriend turn in LT’s direction, lips pressed in a thin line. You keep reminding him it’s the other fucking way, that he had to practice the day before, because he knew how important this was to you—

“Yeah, got it L.T.” He says through clenched teeth. Ghost says nothing, but the mask shifts a little and you want nothing more than to wipe the smirk off of his face.

It doesn’t help when he releases the trigger and misses.

“Just keep trying.” You urge your boyfriend through clenched teeth, offering a smile. Ghost watches it all, how quickly your mood plummeted, how you’re sparing him worried glances. he’s not gonna pity your sod of a boyfriend, but since you’re so worried, he’d consider it. well, he tries to, when that boyfriend of yours moves harshly out of your way and readjusts his pose. It’s humiliating and it doesn’t go by unnoticed.

“There you go,” Your boyfriend simmers to himself when the bullet pierces straight into the makeshift dummy opposite him.

“Good job.” You sigh out, weights rolling off of your shoulders.

“Didn’t need a compass either.” Ghost remarks, void of any emotion as he turns to saunter off.

Despite your mental efforts, you can’t deny the sex is… awful.

You feel terrible as you roll onto your side, a layer of sweat on your skin, looking all tossed up. You should feel… good, right? Yet it doesn’t. It wasn’t the same; no familiar ache between your legs, the immediate sleep after, the same large hands that knew every inch of your body.

“Fuck sake,” You shove your face into the small cushion next to you, voice muffled. Here you were, laying beside your boyfriend, thinking about how much you’d rather be sleeping on the cheap issue of Ghost’s mattress.

You were royally fucked up.

Everyone notices your bad mood the day after; you’re slamming doors, sighing irritably, cricking your neck to the side, knees jittery. Ghost drinks it in, God he fucking revels it. Poor girl.

“Needed this, didn’t ya?” He’s rasping in your ear later that night, your head buried into the pillow deep somewhere in the barracks, ass up in the air for him. Ghost hisses, hips snapping against you. He can tell you needed this — course that pretty boy’s not been takin’ care of you, he doesn’t know you. Doesn’t care to.

“Fussy thing,” Ghost grunts, large hand moving to fist your hair, earning a whimper in response. You’re clawing at the sheets beneath you, breathless, unable to conjure up some lame jab because he’s so deep in you you swear you’re seeing stars.

“Greedy too. Yeah, you fuckin’ like that,” Thrust after thrust, you clench around him, taking him so well, because after all; you’re his. His girl. You moan into the pillow, earning a chuckle from the man as he stills, gloved hands on your hips. God, you know he’s making you late to training but you can’t seem to care.

“Doesn’t fuck you right, does he, love?”

“Si —” You’re panting, lolling against the pillow, jaw slack when large hands spread your legs wider, tattooed skin against soft flesh.

“You got a fussy little pussy,” He groans, base of his cock stilling again, right at that spot you love. “Need’a be fucked proper.”

[barbiiecams]

baby trapping bfb!rafe omg 😖. it would most definitely be an accident, but now you could finally claim him. you weren’t so opposed to the fact of getting pregnant with his baby beforehand, but because sarah was genuinely your friend, you made sure not to for the time being.

now rafe? he’d be so mad yet happy at the same time. he was very reluctant to even take off the condom off with you, and this seemed like the consequence to his actions.

“right there!” you moaned out as he hit the perfect spot inside of you.

“yea? right there?” he’d taunt, smirking down at the position he had you in. he pulled out for a second which almost made you cuss him out, but then lifted one of your legs in the air and held it by the back of your thigh, plowing his way back in again.

this made your eyes roll so far back you were almost positive they got stuck for a hot minute.

“that’s the spot, huh baby?” he’d lean over and say into your ear. not being able to form words, all you could do was nod. but there was something you desperately wanted from all this.

he’d been folding you up, throwing you around and switching positions all night. and he knew exactly how you liked it. it’s like he could seriously do no wrong. all though this whole situation was wrong, you still seemed to forget that this was your friends brother. someone who’s supposed to be off limits.

but we can’t help who we like, right?

he definitely didn’t care though, matter of fact, his dirty talk never stopped about it. “yea? that feel good being fucked by your friend’s brother? imagine if she saw us now. shit, i finally wouldn’t have to hide my girl.”

and he just continues.

“yea rub that clit baby. soak this cock.”

“keep taking it baby, know you can.”

“let go baby, cum all over it.”

as soon as he felt your release, his came up not too long after.

“shit, you feel too good. gonna make me blow mine soon.” this right here is when you ask for whatever, knowing how easy it is for them to say yes when they’re balls deep, seconds away from nutting.

“inside me? please!” you’d grab onto his shoulders, while his arms were now pressing your hip down into the bed.

his movement doesn’t slow, but his face says the answer as well as his words. “you know we can’t. convincing me to go raw wasn’t enough?”

“i just wanna feel you… all full inside me.” you’d say, almost choking on your words the way he’s still milking out your orgasm.

“i’ll cum in your ass. how about that?”

“s’not the same! please, rafe. just once?”

he doesn’t answer for a little bit, but the way his face starts to scrunch up, he was bound to cum in a few seconds.

“fine,” he finally says. “better fuckin take it all.”

right after that, his hot and heavy flow streams right into you, making your brain feel like complete mush.

after a few moments of just laying there, he pulls out and lays down next to you, pulling your head into his chest. “won’t be leaving you alone anytime soon with a pussy like that.” he chuckles, & you playfully hitting his chest.

—

the only thing that brought you was a world full of trouble. because here you are now, sitting on the toilet with a nauseous stomach, and positive stick in your hand to top it off. this most definitely was not supposed to happen, but you didn’t feel that bad about it either.

taking a picture of it in your hands, you sent it to rafe then put your phone down and held your stomach again. you didn’t even need that pregnancy test. the way you were throwing up buckets confirmed it by itself.

not even 5 minutes later, he texts you back.

“didn’t i tell you it was a bad idea? now how are you gonna tell sarah, cus im not.”

now that was definitely something you weren’t thinking about in the heat of the moment.

[something-about-sunflowers]

ALRIGHT, *cracks knuckles* let's get into that teaser, shall we?

Should I itemize this? I think I'm going to itemize it lmao.

So:

Starting here because this is a baseline for Stede, he's got no neckerchief here. This is likely early in the season, probably the very start.

Man's got a fuckin' ARM.

This is Ed. You can see the bare right arm in both shots.

Red neckerchief. Ed's scrap of silk? Beat to shit if it is, which, he did toss it out to sea so, it would be.

Ed's not wearing the knee brace. Or gloves for that matter. I know the knee brace being an actual mobility aid is unconfirmed canon/fanon but it does make me :(c to see him without it. Either it wasn't actually considered as a mobility aid or he's lost it like he's lost his gloves OR he's going without it because he doesn't care if it hurts.

Closer shot of the neckerchief.

I just wanted to point out all the knives stabbed into the table. Also, those look like bits of paper on the windows, did they keep some of the books to repurpose for window blocking purposes?

THERE HE IS!!!!!!!! Other people have already pointed out the makeup and his ring still on his tie, along with the whip on his hip cjizzy real. He's got a new baldric but I also think his clothes look. Darker? Than in season 1? This is a darker/heavier contrast setting but it carries into other shots of him too I think? Like they're less sun/saltwater faded or something?

Other thing to note: If I have my orientation right, this is to the right of Stede's bed nook and to the left of the library, which means this shelf is the one with the auxiliary wardrobe opening mechanism. Which I bring up because:

This little guy seems to be in the place of the mannequin. Ed kept the auxiliary wardrobe and gothed up the mannequin to justify it still being there.

SO much here. This is, I'm fairly certain, Benjamin Hornigold. This camp he's set up (along with what he's wearing) looks like it was made out of a shipwreck. Ed's barefoot and missing his jacket and gloves, and his shirt's torn up at the sleeves. Definitely where he washed up from his dip in the ocean.

Note the trees and the lighting, that comes up later. Ed shoots here and Ben moves with the shot but it doesn't look like he was actually HIT by it to my eyes.

'Wanted. |Blackbeard| Villainous Pirate. Murderer, thrice over. $400 Reward for the criminal responsible for: theft - brigandry - larceny - arson - tax evasion ➡' Presumably there are more crimes/info on the back, though we see the reverse side in the next cut and it's either blank or all in very small text, I couldn't quite tell.

The poster to the right says 'Port' something which has me wondering Port Royal but that's just the only 'Port' something I know, could def be somewhere else.

(Also, just for fun:

Here's how much abouts Ed's capture would be worth now.)

Wider pic than it needs to be but I didn't wanna cut out Olu lol. ANYWAY. Neckerchief again. Also the back of the poster, see what I mean about it either being blank or very tiny?

Babygirl. . . But also that Bride Ed figure kinda slays. Little bralette with the midriff showing, I see you Babygirl. When will he be allowed to just rest and do silly little crafts WITHOUT heartbreak looming over him?

Well. Four is not nine. So. There's that. The other five could be used or out of frame though, of course.

OH. He's back to his fingerless gloves! They might actually be different from his original ones though, they look different at the wrist to me, not quite sure though.

The BOYS!!!! Frenchie looks like he's having a GREAT time. Considering he suggested they turn the hostage into a table and complained about the Republic of Pirates being a bit gentrified I'd say this is more in line with what he's used to in piracy. I 100% buy he was going along with Stede's way because he knew it was an easy ride compared to real piracy. This wouldn't necessarily be a return to form for him but definitely something he's more used to? And he gets to be kitty :3c

And FANG!!! Look at him showing a bit more skin!! Good for him!!

Everybody say 'Thank You David Jenkins'. Right now. Look at this Mad Max shit. Fuckin' Imperator Jimenez right there. LOVE that tye added the 'beard' after the 'fuck's wrong with your face?' bit in 1x10. Full 'it looked weird on you but I slay' energy.

Jim

Izzy

Fang

Near as I can tell at least. I can't make out if Frenchie is in the shot and I'm pretty positive Ed isn't cause he stayed by the cake when they charged in.

Man, yknow I know we were all kinda clowning on it a bit at the end of 1x10 but this look really is so JARRING. Like, in the dark it's menacing but in the light? It's unhinged and that reads as more dangerous imo.

Also just for comparison's sake the pre-Ed-ified version of the bride figure. He really did full on customize that thing lol.

I DON'T THINK ANNE KISSED STEDE HERE. It feels out of character of the show to pull the 'It's fine if a woman does it to a man' kind of thing with regard to unwanted kissing. This is the frame the scene starts on in the trailer. She's leaning back from him and isn't nearly close enough to his mouth to say for certain that's where she was coming from. My money is on her leaning in to whisper something into his ear, maybe under the guise of it being an advance/intended kiss, which would also explain the annoyed look when she's interrupted. She either got ACTUALLY interrupted or it's part of the act. Stede doesn't look nearly as uncomfortable as he would be if she'd kissed him or tried to, he looks confused.

Izzy going for his sword when this guy tries to get the drop on Stede. He either is starting to care or he knows how much Ed needs him alive.

Also, this is the other potential source of Stede's neckerchief. Mr, Knife right here has a red one and Stede doesn't have it in this scene. I do think this one is a little less distressed than the one Stede has though so it could just be coincidence.

See? No neckerchief. He DOES have a sword at his hip tho! So this, I think, is after Izzy's started training him.

Also, he actually looks really good in red lol.

Baby. He's definitely missing the ring in this shot. It sits higher than the baldric is covering. I want to give him a little kissie on his ouchie and then let him have a nap, he needs that.

The pants match the coat. Also, black shirt. Stede is kinda slaying ngl.

Still missing her head :(c. Isn't that bad luck?

Maybe yall didn't hear me properly with the Jim pic. I'll repeat:

EVERYBODY SAY 'THANK YOU DAVID JENKINS'.

I can't get over how Stede's just standing there politely with his arms behind his back lmfao.

Also, Izzy's got his right leg up, he's putting his weight on his left. . . 'foot'.

I SAID EVERYBODY SAY-

I know tits and all but also. The belly. I would like to. Bite.

*ahem*

ANYWAY. On the left (our left) side of the barrel you can see the tip of his right boot so he's def got that leg off the ground. Perhaps someone is trying to relearn their footwork? Now that they've got a different balance than they're used to? And perhaps a difference in sensory input in the leg he's standing on? Possibly?

This is the same beach Ed was on when he did the fuckin' RAD takedown of the other officer but it definitely looks like different times of day. Having both in the teaser is def meant to be a red herring. He doesn't have the neckerchief in this shot either.

Bra för honom. (Is how google translate tells me you say 'Good for him' in Swedish.)

Is Jackie's hair the same here as it is in the VF pic with Ed? Or like, similar enough to be a 'later in the day after some Fun™ messing it up a bit'?

Roach!!! Fully sleeveless now, added a belt, got some flowers tied to the strings/straps of his apron. Looks like he's having fun lighting that cannon lol. Pretty sure this is the same scene as that one leaked photo of him dancing with Fang and Izzy's green screen sock. He had the flowers in that, right?

[Ran out of allowed images, please hold]