#♡ / mirror: she is the thing that devours.

[mimasroom2]

Love on top! ✧～(ゝᴗ ∂ )

Dealer!ellie x reader @ the mall

I’ve been thinking ab how Ellie would be a dealer and has some extra money to spoil her princess ♡

C/w: Not really any? Homophobia mentioned in like one sentence. Kinda suggestive but no smut. Sex toy mentioned like once. Marijuana mentioned like once (at the end). DINA MENTION FUCK YEAHHHH!!!!

W/c: 1k. sorry i just have a lot of thoughts😭

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

- Dealer!ellie who takes you to the mall whenever she feels like it. You never ask because you feel bad for her always spending money on you, but she lovesssssssss to do it.

- She would def buy you guys matching stuff.

- “Holy shit y/n… look at these!” Ellie turns around and has matching Sanrio plushies in both hands. You laugh bc she has them raised like how straight men pose with the fish they catch😭

- “Which one do you want, baby?”

- You pretend to think even though your absolute fav is cinnamoroll.

- She pumps a fist in the air, “FUCK YEAH I wanted pompompurin anyway!”

- She’d walk into any store and buy you guys those goofy ass tshirts that say shit like “I ♡ hot moms” because she gets a kick out of it every time.

- Don’t even get me started on how she’d be in Victoria’s Secret…

- She’d walk behind you with her hands in her pockets, biting her lip as you pick up the most absurdly hot set of bra & panties she’s ever seen.

- When you wanted to try everything on, she’d slip into the dressing room with you so you can have your turn spoiling her by giving her a little show

(˶ > ₃ < ˶)♡

- “Turn ‘round f’me, doll.” You always love how slurred her words get when she’s turned on 🙃 You do what you’re told and do a little twirl. She blushes and grabs your waist from behind, kissing your neck as you giggle looking at the two of you in the mirror.

- “Shit, baby. Gon’ have to buy this all for you so you can waltz around in pretty lingerie all the time.”

- As the two of you leave, she discreetly whispers in your ear “Gonna have to try those panties on for me tonight, mkay?”

- You’d wander into pandora or some fancy jewelry store and she’d be eyeing all the things you look at.

- “Ohmygodddd Ellieeeeee look at how beautiful this necklace is ahhhh!!” You squeal and eagerly point at it.

- “Hey babe, can you get us some auntie annes please?” Ellie smiles at you, “Need me some lemonade from how hot it is today.”

- As you walk away she stealthily buys the necklace you wanted :3. Chatting it up with the salesman n shit, bragging about you and how amazing of a girlfriend you are.

- She’s not afraid to do this bc she knows any homophobia she encounters she can shut down super quick. Perks of being hot and cool😍

- When you finally meet back up with her you’re smiling about the yummy pretzels you got, but your jaw drops when you see the pandora logo bag in her hand.

- You run over to her, “whattttt the fuckkkk Ellie? :0?”

- “Saw my pretty girl looking at it, so I jus’ had to see my pretty girl wearing it.” Is all she has to say in response (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭

- You gasp as she takes it out of the box, “For me?,!?,?,?!! Els, I told you, I don’t need any fancy stuff.”

- “Jus’ accept it, y/n. I like seein’ my princess happy.” She smiles as she puts it on for you :3

- You both sit down and DEVOUR those damn pretzels.

- (I’ve had this song stuck in my head the entire time writing this) The song Love On Top by Beyoncé starts playing, Ellie flashes you a wicked grin and takes your hands to stand the two of you up. The part that goes “You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” plays and she starts jumping around, moving your arms and giggling, not afraid to act like a goofball as long as it’s with you :,)

- If she saw anyone checking you out she’d tap her lips and say “cmere angel.” And give you a cute lil peck >:)

- You guys would walk into Spencer’s, give each other an evil look, and IMMEDIATELY run straight to the back.

- “Holy shit, babe there’s a fucking glow in the dark didlo.” You pretend to have your jaw drop as you wave Ellie over.

- She starts laughing wayyyyy harder than she should, “Whattthefuckkk that’s actually so fuckignfunny BAHAHAHA!”

- “Ellie it’s literally not that funny.” You’re not impressed.

- She gasps, trying to catch her breath, “No nonono no cuz imagine I’m fuckin’ you real good in the middle of the night. All the lights are off. And all you see is this damn glowing dick! Mannnn fuck.” You swear she wipes actual tears from her eyes.

- “Holy shit, do you think it would light up inside you?”

- You smack her on the shoulder 😭

- “Kay… that’s enough of Spencer’s…” you drag her by the hand out of there.

- “One more place I wanna go..” you keep dragging her by the hand.

- “Good.. cuz the malls ‘boutta close, princess.”

- Ellie smirks and scoffs as you guys walk into Claire’s. “Gonna get your clit pierced here or somethin’?”

- You go up to those merry-go-round display things and spin it until you find what you were looking for. “Nah, wanted one of these bad boys for Dina n I.” You show her one of those broken heart necklaces that come together to say best friends. She lets you pay for this one.

- At the end of your day Ellie walks the two of you out into the parking garage. It’s dark, so she pulls her hood up and hunches over to make herself appear more masculine. Not that it’s that dangerous or anything, but she’d probably never forgive herself if something happened to you - even the smallest scratch.

- As Ellie gets into her car, a SEXY ass truck might I add, she hands you a joint so you can relax as she drives you guys home ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

[pascalsbby]

CARNAL / 6: DEVOUR

Chapter 5 / Masterlist

Summary: 4.5k, f!reader, dark!joel, dbf!joel, brattamer!joel

It didn’t even feel like fucking anymore. Yes, it was filthy and harrowing, but it was beckoning more than lust, desire. Love? Fuck. You can’t do this love again. You couldn’t shell out your body and not find the pieces to put yourself back together because they've been taken and devoured by him.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, age gap, cum eating, car sex, anal play, dominate & aggressive joel, slight stalker!joel, pet names, praise kink, he talks you through it, tells you what to do- the usual pure filth + WAY MORE. This is filthy. Gotta feed you after being gone for so long.

A/N: This is the penultimate chapter. Maybe. I kinda went feral. Love you <3 Let me know what you think & what’s gonna happen to these two.

"I need your teeth in me, slow and vicious, to tell me my armor is just skin, bones, only bones. Try to be gentle when you rip me apart.”

- Jamaal May

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

You woke up that morning (the second time), around 10AM on Joel Miller’s couch. He was standing at the counter, back to you. His shoulder blades flexing under his thin shirt. His hair was getting long, kissing the nape of his neck. It was curly at the ends, too. Ruffled, reminiscent of hands being flushed through it. Yours. You wonder now if he’d let it grow or would let it meet its end.

Was this your end?

Turn around Joel.

Please.

You started to open your mouth but he spoke up. “Didn’t want her t’see you in my bed.”

He still hadn’t turned, his voice silently echoing against the tiled back wall of his kitchen. It was soft, still commanding in its baritone. He wasn’t angry anymore… couldn't have been. He had already accepted the invitation and stored it away for later, too. He sat a cup of coffee in front of you and sat across from you at his table. He bent down beside you and whispered, “She hasn’t come out yet. I swear to God f’she heard you fucking screaming last night I—“

Sarah’s bedroom door shook closed. She was walking down the stairs now, fake yawning as if she had only opened her eyes seconds before. She looked tired, as if someone had been keeping her up all night. The chair creaked beneath Joel’s thighs as he settled backwards into it, tearing himself away from your reprimand.

Of course he was mad. Delusional. That’s what this was. Sneaking around your best friends house, fucking her dad? And the thing was, it didn’t even feel like fucking anymore. Yes, it was filthy and harrowing, but it was beckoning more than lust, desire. Love? Fuck. You can’t do this love again. You couldn’t shell out your body and not find the pieces to put yourself back together because they've been taken and devoured by him.

He had made a permanent indentation in his bed with your body, fucking you into it, and then he carried you down the stairs and to the couch like it was nothing, right past her door. Like you hadn’t been dripping on the dark hardwood the entire time he carried you here. Like your muffled screams fell silent to other ears.

Fuck.

He would, too— devour you. And you would sit at his feet and watch as he chewed the love from your ribs. “Thank you, Joel. Thank you. Please, more. Take more of me.”

His snarl when he realized it was you. How angry he was that you were making him do something like this; taking his daughter's best friend and filling her womb with himself, in the most selfish way he could think to tie himself to you. But if that didn’t give, then the raised skin of his initials would do. How dare you open that door and guide him to temptation, as if he wasn’t completely releasing himself into it already? Into you. Onto you.

She hit the bottom step and looked around the living room. “You’re up early.” It was directed at you, but she turned to Joel and spoke in his direction, mirroring him a million times before as her chin tilted slightly down— eyes settling upwards. Big, brown eyes beckoning. And then seconds later her face softens and she gives you both the “I’m not fucking oblivious to this” look.

You laid there and listened to them go about their morning, in his safe space. He smiled real big when he realized she was still happy to see him, of course. Why wouldn’t she be? This has been a man who stood between her and anything that could ever possibly hurt her. He was her shield. And it hurt, still. That he couldn’t really be yours. He was undressing you, instead. Taking off the metal plating and throwing it to the ground. And it was hard to remember that this man was years your senior, your dad’s best friend. He was someone who had been following you for months, paying you to defile your frail body for him. He had hunted you down and sunk his teeth into your skin, bone, marrow. His fingers into your mouth and through the desperation of your thigh.

He scratched his way into your life and you let him, because he feels so good. It was so hard to remember that he was not a good man. Despite his reverence to Sarah’s being. Despite the hole he’s dug through your chest.

Joel Miller was a murderer in his own regard. He hunts you out and down, gets what he wants and then serves you a slow, painful, death. You were sure of it.

Why can’t you be a good man?

Why can’t I have a good man?

You ate breakfast together, the three of you sitting at their two-person table. You were in the middle, one knee touching him and the other, Sarah. He felt of fire, every inch of his denim that touched your naked knees. It rubbed against the rawness of last night, where you were looking up at him, mouth stuffed, praying to him. His cock, as it slid languidly down and up your throat. “Birdie,” he whispered into your hair over and over. Fists full of you. A prayer, a question, a deep rumbling.

Birdie Birdie Birdie.

“Birdie.”

You returned to yourself and realized he was trying to get your attention. It dawned on them that he had just called you the girlish nickname in front of his daughter. It was a moment too late, already it passed his lips and christened the air around him. The melody in his voice changed.

Sarah dropped her fork and it rang through the plate, sending fissures through the porcelain as it echoed the quiet room.

“Who?”

“I’ve called people that before. C’mon. Jus’ like I used to call… fuck what’s her name? Hanna. Just like I used to call Hanna, Ladybug? Remember? Jus’a nickname Sar.”

Excuse me?

“You know exactly why I’m upset. It wasn’t just a nickname for her Dad. You know that.”

“Just a fucking nickname, Jesus.” He was angry that he was being questioned. Outed.

Caught.

It made sense they held secrets for each other. Ones that only swim to the surface during fights. You sat at the two-person table, three people deep. You, sitting outside of your body while the real you is turning your head towards Joel, now. Eyes eating into his own, gnawing on the beauty of them. You try to figure out who the fuck Hanna is. If she’s played this same game before, too. How far did she get? How far was Joel’s cock inside of her? How did he find her?

How old was she?

Sarah was quiet during breakfast. Everyone was. You cleaned the dishes and she rubbed them dry, silently beside you. Joel left as soon as the last bit of ketchup and hashbrowns left his plate. He walked out of the doorway and sat in his chair in front of the TV. He turned the volume out and pretended like he wasn’t leaving his girls to figure it out. He would let you do the hard part.

He always does.

“Sarah, I—“

“Do you know who Ladybug is? He didn’t tell you, did he? He didn’t fucking tell you. I knew it. I knew it,” your name passed out of her chest violently. “He got you too, he got you. I to—He promised me he wouldn’t do it again I-I—“

Suddenly she was too worked up for it to stay between the two of you. Joel’s voice carried from the living room as you hurried after her trying to meet him in the middle. Her fingers already pointing in his direction as he walked towards her with his arms out.

“Joel Miller, you fucking perv—“ calling him by his name.

“Sarah. He hasn’t done anything bad to me. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to but I feel held with him. ‘Member the conversation we had? About how you somehow understood that he and I are similar in a way I haven’t been able to find with anyone else. He— he takes care of me.”

She winced, visibly hit.

“I’ll bet he does.” She spat.

“Hey, s’not like that baby girl.” He was begging.

“Get out of my fucking house, Birdie.” She mocked, completely ignoring anything falling out of your mouth.

So you sat down the dish silently and walked towards the door.

You. You were the first casualty of war. Not even him. Never him. He gazed into you, seeing you. Like he usually did, but never said.

“She was my babysitter and she was his little Ladybug, Birdie,” she spit. You were still in a locked gaze with Joel, body halfway out of their front door.

He turned and looked away.

You walked out of the door.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.•

It had been two months and 26 days since he carved his initials into your begging flesh. A scrappy ‘JM’ slightly sideways, now slightly raised on your inner thigh. You found yourself tracing it sometimes, wondering if you left any invisible marks on him. Probably not. Your skin is pink and soft, new. It has spent its days tucked away against your heat, hidden from the light. From the man who put them there. Whenever you were sleeping that night, he must have invisibly carved himself into you a thousand more times, because your skin is festering in his absence. His fingertips, name, gripping hands, all falling into the creases of him, left upon you. Long ago bruised and now just scabbed over in refusal to let you return to that night.

That’s what I felt like every single time you texted Sarah, “Can we talk? Please?” or, “I am sorry, please let me explain. Miss you.” She never reads them, infact, they never get to her. She blocked you. And that hurt so much more than just leaving you on read.

Suddenly your skin is ripped open again, by the teeth of your own guilt. Of another lie added to the bracket. But alas, you return home, lock the door, and let him free again in the only way you can— by stripping yourself naked and opening your thighs to the light.

It’s easier to hold a funeral when it's your own. Here lies yet another person who didn't save you— who didn’t stick around to see it through. Whatever it was.

You've been discarded before, it wasn’t a new phenomenon. Rather it was one your chest is familiar with— knows the aching well. Although oftentimes you weren’t even left, just sat to the side, unnoticed and quiet. No one had really done you the favor of actually leaving, never really departing; all still loosely lingering around, almost like they were orbiting you. A distant star in the night sky. Then, like a meteorite, Joel. He became your refuge, a far-off celestial body that crashed into yours. Free from the chaos, cradling you in his arms.

He wasn't just a mosaic of broken mass and matter forcibly reassembled; thrown and kneeled like dough. He embodied the resilience of stardust, a reminder that matter never truly vanishes but transforms into something or someone new. Filtered through fingers above to loosen their ties to who they were before, or what. Joel was something before, to you. Maybe on another plane, he was bending you over his knees right now. His hand kissing your skin— Good morning, Birdie. His touch a gentle caress against your skin, with a warmth that felt like the first rays of dawn. Warmth that would completely devour the incessant nightmares. And the truth of him.

Wake up.

Another nightmare.

They never really ended, the fucked up silver screen tucked tightly against your hippocampus, played on and on. They seethed and sang their screamed pain to the night. Bursting out in missing, of emptiness and holiness (not of the Godly kind).

There was a hole, burrowing itself into your breastplate, spreading and grasping for whatever it can grab hold of, inching ever closer to your heart. You screamed his name like it came directly from him, like he planted it there, kissed it on its forehead goodnight, a silent promise, and then walked out the door and never returned. It was kind of like that— his leaving, the absence of him. So your brain held close whatever it still could and replayed it to you every night. It felt like dying. Like wanting to rip-the-wall-open-and-set-yourself-in-there-too, dying. Plaster over yourself and have some professional match the paint color perfectly, so that it's as if you were never gone from him or his room, dying. His ruined sheets on behalf of your body. Rotting.

Joel told you that he wouldn’t clip your wings, not just yet. What had set off the ‘yet’? He was haunting you, now, the whispers of his voice fading more each day. You thought about that morning so much that you haven’t been present in your own, in weeks.

You haven’t painted in weeks, either. They were sitting against your wall in your childhood room, not even able to face the outside world. Just the canvas beside it. A mirror.

You had been writing more though, filling pages of a journal you didn’t even know you had. The cover was foiled, gold and glistening. Water Serpents l, Gustav Klimt, 1907. You’d always preferred Water Serpents II. Where the fuck did this come from?

Sarah probably left it here in the beginning of summer. She came over daily, helped you unpack. Laughed with you. Held you in that way. Took pictures of you amongst your things.

“You’re like… a big girl now.” She said.

You’d always had a poster of Der Kuss hanging above your bed. It moved with you, from your room to a dorm room, apartment, and back. On her knees for him, engulfed in him. Her feet hanging over the edge, facing some other reality. He held her head in his large hands and kissed her Goodbye. Goodnight. Drift softly into the night.

I imagine he stayed on his knees and watched the flowers shrivel. First, the ones upon her dress and hair, then he picked every single flower in the field they graced and watched them shrink and gasp for life, too. But he stayed.

You remember Dr. Andrews, walking to center stage of the auditorium on a foggy Wednesday morning, four semesters ago. It was 45 minutes into a 3 hour chapter titled: Byzantine Frescoes: Life In Gold. “Each work aids final comprehension of the allegory, which represents the mystical union of spiritual and erotic love and the merging of the individual with the eternal cosmos.” That of Der Kuss. Eternal cosmos.

You felt as if you were meant to be with him. Regardless of the rage you felt towards him. How he had just magically been there at every intersection of your life, thus far. How your parents loved him. Sarah. Meeting her again, or the first time even. All synchronicities pointing to the both of you. Joel and Birdie, sittin’ in a tree.

Whenever you felt control slipping, you would write down the words of someone else. Sometimes it was too hard to find your own in the strung-together way you wanted them. But people have been talking, crying, wailing into the night, since forever ago. You found something that stuck a key into your heart and opened it. This fell out:

“I hated him because I could not remain detached, could not remain standing at the top of the stairs watching him depart. I felt myself going down with him, within him, because his pain and flight were so familiar to me. I descended with him, and lost myself, passed into him, became one with him like his shadow.”

- Anaïs Nin, Winter of Artifice

Your pen gave out, stopping its bleeding before you even reached the end of shadow.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.•

You had been at home a lot more the past couple of weeks, in a perpetual state of ‘no-call-backs’ from jobs and The Miller’s. You hid from arguing like you’d never left. Like you weren’t nearly 25 years old. You listened to wildfire over and over.

“Been home longer than expected. Looking for a job or just gonna stay here forever?”

“Yeah, Dad. No one is calling back. I’m trying.”

“Not hard enough.” He always says it under his breath, not even looking you in your fucking eyes.

Yeah. Not hard enough.

“How ‘bout you ask Joel if you can work for them as some assistant or something?”

You try not to outwardly scoff. “I’m not talking to Sarah right now. Please don’t invite the Miller’s to anything, just for a while.” You knew exactly what was coming up. But you turned to him and looked in his eyes— something you shied away from him most days, thinking that sudden reveal would get your point across. He spoke before you could, again.

“What’d you do this time?” He looked away.

*₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.•

It didn’t surprise you one bit when Joel fucking Miller, in the biting flesh, walks past you in your own backyard, three months and 28 days later. Eyes tearing into where another man’s hand rested upon the small of your back, rubbing soft circles into your skin. John caught his eye, his fingers releasing from your skin upon Joel’s wandering scowl.

Looks like he wasn’t expecting him either.

John was standing at your side. You decided you’d meet him first, as to not have a reply of the last time you met one of your customers. He actually lived a few houses down, your other too-old-for-you neighbor. How funny. He walked up to you one day when you were getting the mail.

“N’ what’s a pretty thing like you doing out here barefoot? Gonna hurt those soles.”

You decided that you haven’t felt full in a while. You wanted to feel it again, the tickling stretch of someone sliding into you. Even if the entire time you try not to sing the song of another man.

Eh. He fits the bill.

So now his feet (boots) were slowly sinking into the September grass in your parents backyard. He was five beers deep. You, about three or so. Enough. It was the best you could do under the circumstances.

In reality, he came because he thought he might be able to get you alone in the room he’d seen so many times through the computer screen. Smell your sheets, your room, your pussy.

In reality, you just invited him in hopes that Joel would be here. That he would see you around another man and realize the mistake he’s made by not choosing you, too.

You were mid-sentence, explaining what a BFA is to some other neighbor and you felt as if you could hear him growling from across the yard. You would sway yourself just the way you know he liked- especially when your family was involved. Oh, it angered him. That you should be so bold in front of your own father. In front of this man. But he was ignoring you, so why wouldn’t you try and regain his attention?

“Did I leave my wallet in your truck?” John put on his thinking face. “Don’t think so, but here, go look.” He handed you the keys. Coulda came with you at least. You lead yourself back inside and out of the front door. His car is about 4 back. You see Joel’s navy truck a few more back and you catch yourself staring for too long.

As you attempt at unlocking John’s truck, your knees are suddenly pressed onto the footstep, arms spread against the leather seat. And then Joel’s smell is all around. His nose is poking your ear and his gray stubble is poking into your face.

“How fucking dare you? I give you space and this is how you spend it? Stuffing another man’s dirty cock into my cunt?” His back is lowered, attempting to match your height, pointing and spitting about. “If you wanted to be fully stuffed you should have just asked, Birdie. But I get whatever hole I want and he can have whatever’s open. I didn’t know you wanted me to share you, baby.”

You felt full of his voice, even at its melting whisper. You missed bulging full of him.

“I woulda at least ask you not to choose one of my coworkers. Actin’ like a fucking slut.” He whispered the last part, but not quietly enough. “Gonna take care of him later, been wanting to since I saw that you followed hi—“

He was so angry he was giving away his secrets, the way he had still been keeping up with you. You were pulsing.

But… he was looking at you, was paying attention to you. And you hadn’t looked into his soul in so long. You fought against his palm, as it filled the expanse of the back of your head, hair and all. Your cheeks pushed against the seat of John’s truck.

You hear Joel sigh in impatience, then he drops his belt.

He pulls his hands away so he can pull up your dress and he moans as his thumb pushes your thong away from your holes, tickling them. He hooks his thumb in front of you, against the hood of your clit and holds it in place. A constant rush of pressure originating from where his wet finger is pushing. You rut your hips against it and he moans as you breathlessly look up and around at him, eyes widening and eyebrows raising at the feeling of his presence on your body.

“Look into my eyes.”

How could you? How could you possibly focus on the lifting of his lips and his tongue meeting his teeth when his arms were gracing himself, wrestling heavily against his chest, stomach, fully. His cock, long and full. Slightly less straight. A little off. Just like him. Just like you liked it.

He turns you over on your back, lifting you up so that your naked ass meets leather, fully in another man’s truck. He sets you further inside and then looks at you. His cock jumps to meet your gaze and he lets you take it in.

“Been thinking about this.” You try to reach out and touch the veiny girth of it. The heaviness.

“Mm, nuh uh. Not being a very good girl, are you? Told y’ to shut up didn’t I?”

No. And you know he would never. Likes hearing you whimper for him too much.

You scoff and he dips into you in fever, his nose is kissing your clit, unable to get out of the way as his tongue pokes into your slobbering hole. You are every one of his senses. His fingers in your cunt, stretching the soft tissue between your legs. The taste of your warmth on his tongue, pooling. The wetness that got into his nose.

If anyone were to be looking, from most angles it looks like he’s lost something in his floorboard. Until someone moves too closely and sees Joel Miller with his face buried in someone’s daughter's pussy.

He hears something and removes his dripping mustache from your cunt. He then spits on it and lets it talk to him as his veined and heavy cock slips through the cream he’s making of his precum, collecting it with his pretty pink, angry, tip before he slides it back down your slit, covering every inch with himself.

It felt good to sing for him again.

“Oh Birdie, just like that, sounds so good whipping up your pussy’s excitement with my cock, don’t you? Filthy lil’ thing. Gonna make it wetter n’ cover it in my cum, too, okay?”

He reaches down and fingers at your pussy, pushing himself deeper into you and thumbs where you are gripping his cock. He spits down on it. “She missed me.”

“Need you t’ fill me up.”

“Already begging? Don’t wanna get caught in his truck, do you?” He was mocking you now. “Baby girl, that’s just not good enough.”

“Need-need daddy to fill me to the brim with his fucking cum. Let me have it, sir, please. Plea-“

“Show me who you belong to.”

You widen your legs further and let the orange streetlights filling the car shine on his initials.

“There you go baby.” He growls as he fucks his thick length inside of you, letting go as deep as he can as your pussy clenches around his sputtering cock.

He stops looking at your hole clenching onto him as hard as possible and is instead watching his initials in the jiggling fat of your inner thigh. He grabs it, rubs his fingers over the skin.

His thighs are even thicker from this angle. He moans towards the sky but forces himself to look back down, just as his cum falls from his slit and falls down to your open mouth. He lets go of his cock and lets it throb independently, shooting more of himself into his plump stomach. He’s dripping down himself, coating his own skin.

“Uh uh uh.” His voice catching in his throat every single time the skin between his heavy balls and asshole contract and expand, throbbing.

He admires as the cum chokes back out of your tight pussy as he pushes himself in and out, then removes himself. He watches it slide down and kiss your puckering asshole and decides to finger it back into your cunt, tsk-ing at you.

“Gonna let it drip down to your pretty asshole and not even fuck it back in baby? After all that work? Let me do it for you. Relax n’ let me fuck you here, too.” He slides his thick finger into your ass and lets out a low groan as it swallows him.

He pops himself back out, gently cooing praises at you.

“Whose Hanna?”

“That’s none of your fucking business, Birdie.”

“Is that so? Shouldn’t I have a right to know? Am I just another victim of you and your inability to show the fuck up?”

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Daddy showing up to your little party and making a mess in your little hole?”

“Joel.”

“I never fucked her.”

You stared at him.

“Get down there and clean up your fucking mess.” You deserved this. You weren’t being good for him, asking questions.

You pulled your dress down as he tucked himself away. He held your hair back and grabbed your jaw, aligning it with his cum on the black leather seats.

“Now lick.”

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.•

I know I’m missing some of you on the taglist, I’m sorry!! I need to come up with a better way of doing it.

Taglist: @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rubyfruitjungle @leeeesahhh @blackvelveteen1339 @huffle-punk @xxmr-potato-headxx @ssssc0m @paleidiot @sarap-77 @silkiers @gracevn @scarletsloveletter @livingdeadmaria @morallyinept @kittenprincess710 @jubilee82 @cool-iguana @vickywallace @capitulo3-celos @taeslarityy @moonlightdreamingworld @worhols @milla-frenchy @sheepdogchick3 @gasolinerainbowpuddles @justagalwhowrites @bratty-lxndry444

[lale-txt]

𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀 (𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲

♫ Weyes Blood - Mirror Forever

No one's ever gonna give you a trophy For all the pain and the things you've been through No one knows but you Kinda crazy when you're looking right through me Something forceful about yourself Just say the word and baby, know that I'll be there I'm not scared

⭅ back to m.list

She kissed him once.

Akaashi isn’t sure if she even remembers it. Or if he wants her to remember. 

She kissed him once and it had tasted like salt and blood; a deep sense of sorrow lingering afterwards. It’s like she carved herself into his being, leaving him with claw marks on the walls of his heart. He would never forget how she pressed her face into his palm when he cupped her face, like some wounded animal, only to snap and bite and push him away one heartbeat later. Akaashi never laid his eyes on anyone more beautiful than her, with her mascara smudged, glassy eyes looking right through him, her bottom lip split open.

It had been his first year at university, at some welcome party. He really didn’t want to go, but Kuroo dragged him there, and while Akaashi stood alone in some corner filled with dread, regret and too much moscow mule, she found him. 

“You’re lonely.”

It wasn’t a question, more an observation. Akaashi was pretty sure that his heart had stuttered from the way her eyes were pinned on him, drinking him in. Like she was ready to pounce on some prey, and gods, he wanted to let her devour him, just to see what would be left of him once she teared him apart. 

She kissed him once, and he could tell that she had been crying, small hiccups swallowed between their lips. He didn’t even know her name at that time, but if anyone would have asked him, he’d tell them that his heart had recognized her, that surely they must be made from the same stardust. Why else did he feel so golden in her proximity?

He wanted to kiss her bruised knuckles and run his fingers along her jaw and allow her to sink her fangs into his neck, but she was vanishing as suddenly as she had appeared, leaving him with nothing but the memory of a ghost. 

By the time he had found her friends to make sure they’d look after her, she had already gone home with some other man. 

Akaashi could still taste her on his tongue, days later, when he walked into the classroom for his drawing class. Not expecting her to be there, not behind the scaffolds but in front of them, bare and inviolable. He remembers standing there frozen, his heart stumbling. She looked like a deity in the morning light, like something holy, an untouchable air around her. Someone you bow to. 

He never forgot how hollow her eyes were.

Ever since, every piece of art he created was about her. Page after page, perpetuated in coal and watercolor, sculpted from wood and clay. Nothing would come close to her ethereal being, but he’d be damned if he gave up trying. Even a broken replica was something whole in another universe. 

Akaashi found his muse. It didn’t matter if he could only watch her from afar. If her eyes never meet his again. If he carves himself from the inside out just to make room for her. None of it mattered.  

She kissed him once.

It was enough, he lies to himself. 

✰ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

@wyrcan @spacekedi

taglist open! dm/ask/comment to be added (or removed, no hard feelings ♡)! minors DNI!

[sanriopinterest]

♡ 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚎𝚝 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚎 ♡

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🌺In honor of season two being official I give you, a new chapter🌺

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🌺The fit for this part of the fic🌺

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"Yummy! I wanna make dessert babies with you, I would rub you all over my body if it wasn't for the yeast I swear I would!". I bat my eyelashes and gave her a blank stare as she starts beating chuck. "You do you girl, you do you". The elevator dings as panty skips through the door singing a song. "Very catchy Panty" I state as she freezes. "Ugh why does it smell like a gummy bear sharted in here? Whats happening, what are you eating and, why does it smell like jelly bean spunk" she comments coming near the couch. More like chair, only one person can sit on it, hence why im sitting on a beanbag chair rn.

"Put down the hatorade, I understand that its hard for you to accept that your vice gives you warts but thats not my fault". I lose interest the more they argue. Are they seriously arguing over sweets. I think I like (sweet/spicy) more. Overall its a stupid argument. The conversation ends with Chuck being kicked into the trash.

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As stocking stands naked in front of her mirror I was adjusting my pillows on our bed for sleep. When we got an apartment I decided to room with stocking over pantys mess of a 'room'. Its way darker in here anyway. "What the fuck, I just let that asshole make me paranoid". I hear stocking mumble. I watch her walk over to her scale. She squeals loudly as the scale stops. "Are you okay Stocking?" "Im a fatty.."

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🌺Another outfit change🌺

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The elevator dings as me and panty walk through it. "We're back from rocking out with my cock out! Get this shit, this dude just shoved his package in our face". Loud vrrs can be heard throughout the apartment. "We got you some stuff!" I call out holding a few boxes. The vrrs stop suddenly. "I almost puked on him because it looked like a bunch of sweet treats but I took it just incase it was full of dome sweet means if you know what im saying" She ranted on. "HUH?!? You said these were sweets YOU BOUGHT for Stocking!". I set down and open the boxes, sighing with relief when I realize their actually sweets. I DID NOT want to face Stocking if these weren't sweets.

"Uh Chica did you hear me? What the fuck is a fondae anyway? It looks like plastic, y'all take it their from angel house that place that everyone's getting their nipples hard over".

"No thank you! I have no interests of things of that nature" she says quickly. "Seriously? Looks like me and Chuck are getting the runs tonight!" I exclaim. Stocking almost never gives up her share so i'll be able to eat little more than I usually do. Panty drops the sweets into Chucks mouth as he devours the rest of his share. "Oopsie did you decide you wanted some?""Did you decide you wanted to shut the fuck up?!""Don't think you're getting any of mine!" I say as I pull out my (fav/cake) from the box. As I begin eating I look back towards my entertainment of the night. Who is now suddenly flipping Stockings shirt up and down. "So thats what was making the vrring noises earlier!" I point to Stockings stomach. "Chuck, c'mere" she spins in a crazed state into the elevator. "Weird".

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The elevator dings as I come from me and stockings room. My slippers gliding towards panty whos standing in the middle of the living room with a few boxes of cake. "Oh hey panty, what are you doing with all that cake" I ask as she looks around the room. "Have you seen Stocking around?""Uh yeah last time I saw her she was in the boiler room?""Thanks". Panty starts walking towards the boiler room and follow her. We walk in and look around for our sister. We scream as she appears in front of us looking dead, not even half dead I mean, freash out the casket dead. Panty holds out the cake as an offering but Stocking just stares at it. She takes it but lets the cake fall off the tray. Leaving us terrified.

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I scream as I get flicked out of the bed and onto the grass outside. "Fucking shit girl what happened?!? Your like trashy talk show, fat!""Seriously, this is the thing I wake up too?" I look up at the sky and ask. "Huh what are you talking about I always have a bridge around my waist don't be an asshole" Stocking says in a deeper voice than usual. "I don't really wanna do this but I said I would". Panty then starts hysterically laughing. "Not the time Panty-""When I do get out of here, your gonna be the meat in my breakfast taco" Stocking says. "Cannibalism much?". I look around to see panty and chuck still laughing their ass off, until chuck gets electrocuted. Garterbelt pops up from the ground. "Angels we have a mandee""She looks like a giant balloon with a hat on!" Panty continues her gag.

"I give up" I say to myself as panty flings from the ground. "That was my face you twat" she complains.

As Garterbelt explains whats happening im thinking about how I get our beds back in our rooms. "Angels what you're seeing here can only be the work of a ghost""Oh so they're the ones who turned Stocking into a glazed holiday ham, YOU HEAR THAT?!" Panty screams to Stocking. "CUT THAT OUT" I scream smacking the back of Pantys head. "GET ME DOWN! IM GNNA EAT THAT GHOSTS HONEY GLAZED NUTSACK" Stocking yells breaking the tower completely. Me and Panty watch with a suprised deadpan face. "Look your King Kong and We get to be the hot chicks!" Panty yells grabbing my waist while we're on top of stocking. "Um how did we change-"

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(Yet another outfit change <3)

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   Panty starts running backwards on Stocking making her roll forward into traffic. "What part of I don't do excersize do you not understand!" I yell at Panty. Thanks to the running shes doing I also have to run. She ignores me and keeps singing her song.

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    "Thats fucking endearing, since you only want to fatten up the hot chicks so you won't have to feel like such a lard ass" Panty calls out stopping th ladys rant. "Who the fuck are you?" She turns around. "EW SHE HAS NIPPLES FOR EYES""Someone who refuses to let you control her with your suger shooters! We're shutting down your fat factory old lady!" Panty preaches. Stocking groans behind us. "Stockings been eating titty icing?" I contemplate as Panty lets out a giggle seeing Stocking. "HOW DARE YOU! This is not just a factory this is a haven, where fat can be free to be whatever it wants to be! YA GOT THAT" She acreams growing more nipples. "SO GROSS" I scream as she shoots her sentient milk babies at us. "What is she doing? No I can't swallow that load its too much!" Panty panics. "Whens the last time you said that?" I teased. Panty and I pause as we see Stocking in front of us eating all the cream things. "EW SO GROSS" I say going back to freaking out and hiding behind Panty.

   "Ew shit way to take one for the team girl" Panty deadpans shielding herself from the Cream. Stocking tries to slash the woman with her sword but it doesn't work.

  "Oops must've shrunken in the wash" Stocking says. "ARE YOU SERIOUS RN?!?". The Ghost woman walks out of the factory heaving a bag with her. Me and Panty slide outside. "Not so fast!" She holds her gun to its stomach as I aim an arrow at her group of tits. "You think you can bake those cakes and not eat 'em too?!?". "Choke on this pippy long titties" I shout as I fire my arrow and Panty fires her gun. The Ghost leaves behind 4 heaven coins. "One for each neck roll, what was she? The ghost Embassoder of fatties who think they should get to be loved for who they are on the inside". I stare judgingly at Panty. "Or the fate of fatest bitches like u" Stocking says before deflating back to her normal self. "Oh your back to being hot?""Can we go home now? " I ask.

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  "You better not get all fat again or else you'll have to get good at blowjobs""Oh please, I don't mind some junk in the trunk if I can eat what I want. Going without sweets is like going without sex, not that you would have any idea what thats like" Stocking retorted. "True" I add on focusing on my game. "Dont even think about it Chuck~" Stocking sang before throwing Chuck. I look towards Chuck and walk over. "Can you maybe not throw him in the trashcan? I just bathed him" I asked taking Chuck and putting him on the floor.

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Words: 1573

Wattpad: @Vonlovesbread

(Your choker turns into a bow and arrow instead of your sleeve)

Thanks so much for waiting♡

[hollyoongs]

𓇬 Woo-ooh 이제 재미없어 | no more fever |

◞ ≽ܫ≼ ◟ 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖞'𝖘 ♡ 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

↷ 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢'𝚜 note: After my girl @sunkittie dropped her prompts list to get out of writers block, I decided to do that (despite having several blogs already in my drafts) , tysm for the idea love! This is mostly you do a request (anon or not) and I make small scenarios with the given prompts. I made prompts so that it can fit female and male idols with fem reader (and some of them I can turn them into threesomes) 🦋

RULES 4 THE REQUEST!

step 1: be polite, saying hello at first doesn't hurt, yk? <3

step 2: prompts you would like (3 or 4) + member (i see a minor and istg i won't hesitate on delete it.)

EXAMPLE!

"hey girl! So I thinking about 6 + 38 with heeseung." "hi! this is my first time doing a request, but can you do 36 + 45 with itzy ryunjin. tysm!"

REQUESTS WILL BE CLOSE ON 6th of September

“Then be quiet. Don’t make a mess, baby.”

“That’s not fair! You tied up a vibrator on me!”

"Fuck, I can see my dick inside you"

“I’ll devour you in a different way. Can you guess how?”

"Wear your marks with pride"

“Shhh, don’t make a sound. Keep still,” 

“Be a good girl for me, baby.”

“Now, now, what do brats get?”

“I'm not sorry.”

"Own this pussy, please."

"Such a good boy"

"She/He can never have you, not like I'm having you now"

"Open that mouth."

"I love how I can turn you into a mess."

"Take off your clothes."

"What a nice, submissive little slut you are"

"Want me to model these for you?"

" You're body says otherwise."

"Why did you buy me this?"

"I want you to break me. Make me entirely yours."

"Feels too good, right?"

"I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice"

"And I'm going to make you cum again."

"Keep doing that."

"It’s not my fault you keep turning me on"

"God, you taste so good I could just eat you whole."

"Wanna play a little?"

"I've never wanted to fuck someone as badly as I want to fuck you right now."

"How the fuck did you manage to cover me in this many hickies?!"

"Think anyone will notice if I start fingering you right now?"

"I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now."

"What if someone hears us?"

"Can't believe I created a cock slut."

"I want you to feel good."

"So...you wanna have sex?"

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on me."

"You're on top, but I'm in charge."

"Eyes on me, pretty."

"Come kiss me and bite me."

"Scream. Let the neighbors know my name."

"Make that noise again"

"You look really pretty when you cry."

"Come on, fuck me."

"Okay, you fucking win."

"Can I sit on your face?"

"Cum all over me."

"You're such a brat."

"You taste like fucking candy."

"I can do this all day"

"You look so good right now."

"Keep them on the mirror, sweet thing."

"I will do whatever you ask of me."

"How can you still be so tight?"

"Coming back for more?"

"Yes sir/ma'am"

"Back sit, now."

"The camera makes you look even more wet."

"You're killing me"

"This is fucking insane."

"Own me baby, ride it like the good girl that you are"

current permanent taglist: @kwiwin @hees-love @taeghi @glitterjay @caratstick @hvseung @hxxsxxng @jaehoonii