#and jesus the shaking and crying and gagging

[unown]

also discovered that I have a fear of maggots how fun

[falling-endlessly]

Boomerang (part 2)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: After being faced with a dilemma, Vox tries a new approach to get you back. All hell breaks loose.

<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>

"You're shitting me right now," Velvette's eye twitched as she stared at the snoring TV demon sprawled across your bed. "For fuck's sake, what am I? A babysitter?"

"At least he's knocked out," you crossed your arms, raising a brow. "You won't have to listen him try and tell you that he lost his hat, only to realize it was on his head the whole time, and then start crying because he forgot he owned such a cool hat."

Velvette smacked her forehead audibly, dragging the hand down her face. "Jesus Christ," she hissed under her breath, before glaring at you in irritation. "You know, none of this would have happened if you hadn't left, right?"

"Vel," you said tiredly, rubbing your temples.

"Do you know how fucking annoying it is to hear him bitch all goddamn day about you?" She growled, waving her hands around aggressively. "I'm this close," she held her fingers a millimeter apart. "To pouring water all over his monitors. This. Close."

"Vel—"

"And then there's Valentino, who's also in a fucking mood. You know what? Forget about the water. I'm going to shoot both of them in the—"

"Velvette!" You raised your voice, making her grit her teeth. "I'm not coming back. He made his choice," you glanced at the demon in question, currently drooling all over your pillow. "It's not my problem anymore."

"Is that what you think?" She snapped, crossing her arms. "That you can just, what, leave your shit in a mess and walk out? Sorry to burst your bubble bitch, but you aren't fucking Cinderella. Things aren't just going to magically work out if you hide from them."

"I'm not hiding—"

"Bullshit!" She growled.

Your jaw set tightly as you both stood in a tense silence, glaring at each other.

After a few seconds, you sighed, shaking your head. "He already knows what he has to do if he wants to fix this," you said firmly. "I'm not going to change my mind."

Velvette pressed her lips together, before letting out an irritated breath. "Always fucking cleaning up everyone else's messes," she muttered angrily under her breath as she roughly hoisted Vox's limp body over her shoulder. "I'm going to kill him. Pathetic piece of shit—keep up a good image my ass."

She was almost out of the window when you called out, "Vel."

Velvette turned to give you an annoyed what now look over her shoulder, scowling impatiently.

"Thanks," you said sincerely.

She didn't answer you, instead turning and vaulting herself out of the window, disappearing from sight.

****

Vox woke up feeling like his screen was being forcibly bent in half. "What the ungodly fuck?" he whimpered, grabbing fistfuls of his sweaty bed sheets as he tried to control his breathing.

His stomach roiled ominously, making him gag. "Nope, nope. Not here," he stumbled out of bed, staggering to his attached bathroom like a desperate zombie and nearly running face first into the wall.

Vox dropped to his knees, flipping open the toilet lid and shooting out an unholy amount of chunks.

"What the—ugh, holy shit!" Velvette coughed from the doorway, shielding her face. "God, that smells worse than that skit when Angel got shat on."

Fuck you, he wanted to say. What the fuck are you doing in my bathroom?

But instead what came out was: "FUghhhuckk!"

Velvette watched him, unimpressed and disgusted. "You're an idiot."

"Not. Helping." Vox growled miserably, screen flickering as he gripped the edges of the toilet bowl.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Velvette jeered unsympathetically. "Who dragged your pathetic drunk ass back here last night? Oh, that's right!" She snapped her fingers in a mock eureka! moment. "I did. How about a little gratitude?"

Vox lifted a weak, trembling hand and flipped her off.

Velvette rolled her eyes. "Ungrateful bitch," she muttered under her breath.

Vox heaved loudly into the toilet, making her cringe. Gross. She grabbed the hand towel off of the rack, before throwing it at his head. It landed on the top of his monitor, hanging off the corner, before he grabbed it and sluggishly wiped his mouth. "I th-think I'm sh-short circuiting," he groaned, gripping his head in pain.

"You'll be fine," Velvette closed her eyes in frustration, but internally her thoughts took a different turn. She hadn't seen Vox this fucked up in ages. Val maybe. But not Vox. He cared way too much about his public image. This erratic behavior was very, very unlike him, and it was starting to become...concerning.

"What happened?" Vox coughed, leaning his monitor weakly against his forearms. The last thing he remembered was the fight with Val, and then—a garden...? The hell?

"Well, apparently, your dumbass thought it was a good idea to pay Y/n a visit—" Vox froze at the sound of your name "—to personally deliver her flowers at three in the morning. Then you cried about your stupid hat, passed out in her room, and she called me to pick you up like an incompetent child. The end."

By the end of her rant, Vox's expression looked even more pained, if that was even possible. "Shitttt," he moaned, curling in on himself. "Fuck. Shit. Fuck."

He looked so pathetic and distraught that Velvette almost felt bad for him. Almost.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were Vox's labored breaths and Velvette's judgmental stare. The silence was starting to border on stifling when Vox finally broke it.

"Did she like it?" He asked quietly.

"What?" Velvette scowled, crossing her arms.

"The roses," he continued, making her raise a brow. So he did remember buying the flowers then, she never told him what kind they were. "Did she like them?"

She was about to dismiss it when a sudden memory struck her, making her pause. "She kept them. In a vase on her night stand."

Vox slowly lifted his head, a warmth (not bile this time) blooming in his chest. You kept them. Even though he'd made a fool out of himself and probably ruined your night. And you didn't kick him out, either.

You still care, he realized, with a fragile, growing hope.

And that meant—he had a chance. Not baseless hope this time, an actual, legitimate chance to win you back. A slow, goofy grin started to climb his face.

"What—what the fuck? What's with the idiotic look on your face?" Velvette cringed away, disturbed. Then realization hit her as her eyes rolled skyward. "You're going to do something incredibly stupid, aren't you?"

"Maybe," he grinned, before another bout of nausea hit him, making him retch violently into the bowl.

"Idiot," Velvette reiterated.

****

"Oh, hell no," you heard Vaggie say, making you glance up. The moth demon looked incredibly hostile, spear pointed at whoever was at the door.

Concerned, you lifted from the lounge chair you were seated in, taking a few steps towards them, only for a firm hand to land on your shoulder.

"Toots," Angel Dust laughed nervously, moving to block the scene with his body. "Maybe you should let the others sort this one out, yeah?"

"Angel, I know I don't look like much, but I'm an overlord," you raised a brow, peeling his hand off of your shoulder with ease. "I can probably help."

"Shit! Wait, you're not going to like this," Angel groaned under his breath, but it was too late. You'd already seen him.

Vox caught your eye, a charming smile quirking his mouth. "Hey, doll."

Your fists curled by your sides, eyes flashing dangerously as you started to dematerialize, glowing green code dancing along your skin. You glitched out, growing substantially in stature as your mouth distended horrifically.

"Ohhh shit," Angel cursed, taking cover behind the bar counter.

"What's wrong?" Charlie's confused voice came from the stairwell, only to gasp at your demonic form, glitching horribly as your voice raged like gravelly static. It almost sounded like there was another, deeper voice speaking in tandem with yours.

"Woah!" She bolted to the scene, catching sight of a pale Vox, shocked Vaggie, and gaping Niffty. Husk, Pentious and Angel had done the smart thing and taken cover behind the bar.

"Y/n," she smiled placatingly, raising her hands in a show of non-aggression. "What's going on?"

"Gonna kill him," you spat, making everyone wince. "Can't have one goddamn moment to myself without this fucker appearing like a fucking genital wart—"

 "Hey," Vox laughed nervously. "I'm not here for any of that, I promise. Just—sweetheart—could you maybe not hover over me like that—"

"O-kay Y/n," Charlie stepped between the two of you. "Maybe just calm down, take a few deep breaths, and let's hear him out."

"Charlie, he blew up the hotel two days ago," Vaggie hissed through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, well, so did Pentious," Charlie raised a brow, wincing at said demon's faint protest.

"Pentious blew a hole in the wall," Vaggie argued. "This guy blew up half of the building!"

"Charlie!" Angel yelled, voice strained. "Do something before we all die!"

"Alastor's going to kill him," Niffty said cheerfully.

"I'll kill him first."

"Guys—" Charlie pleaded.

"I'm here for redemption!" Vox's voice cut through the air, making everyone freeze. It even shocked you out of your demonic form, the glowing code disappearing as you shrunk to normal proportions.

"You what?" you snapped.

"I want to...make things right," he glanced at you, making you grit your teeth and turn away. "I'm not here to cause trouble I swear—"

The door slammed in his face, cutting him off.

"Charlie," Alastor grinned, finally pulled from wherever the hell he'd fucked off to in his free time. "Tell me you're not thinking of letting this mongrel stay, are you?"

"What is this?" Vaggie hissed, dropping her head in her hands. "Overlord central?"

Charlie looked down, pursing her lips. "Well, it would be wrong of us to refuse anyone. It is open to everyone, after all."

"Think of Y/n!" Alastor said desperately, smile twitching as he clasped his hands on your shoulders, holding you out like some sort of charity case. You gave him an unimpressed look. "It's obvious he's only here to harass her!"

"And what were you here for again?" Charlie raised a brow. "To see demons trip and tumble down into the fiery pit of failure," she deepened her voice to imitate his, making him let out a screech of radio feedback.

"Look, I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself," you said, disgruntled as you shrugged off Alastor's uncomfortably tightening grip. "Charlie, do what you want. But I can't promise I won't kill him."

You were starting to accept the fact that there was nowhere in hell you could possibly go to escape your ex if he didn't wish it. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t put up a fight, though.

"Oh fuck," Angel dragged a hand down in face. He already knew what Charlie was going to decide. "Shoulda fuckin' stayed over with Cherri."

Charlie took a deep breath, and despite everyone's silent pleas, reached for the door handle and twisted it open. Vox perked up, turning towards her attentively.

"Welcome to Hazbin Hotel!" She attempted an awkward, welcoming smile.

****

<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Kinktober day 31

Am I posting this a day late? Yes. Sorry. Y'all, Halloween was crazy yesterday omg. I hope you all enjoyed yourselves!!!

Size kink + dacryphilia

Seeing you cry breaks Logan's heart. Unless it's when you're gagging around his cock or when he's made you come more times than you can count.

He's usually pretty gentle, especially because he's so big. Strong arms, wide shoulder, barrel chest. Jesus, the man is huge. Regardless of your size, he could break you without breaking a sweat. And he knows it.

That's why he's usually gentle with you, he'd hate to hurt you. But fuck, he just really needs to unwind tonight.

He starts slow, as slow as all the pent up frustration from the shitty day will let him go. He's trying to be gentle.

Usually, Logan prepares you really well. He'll eat you out, stretch your cunt with his fingers so his cock doesn't hurt you.

But tonight, he's not as patient. He still prepares you, just not as thoroughly.

He'd planned on inching his cock into you, slow enough that you could adjust easily. But the moment he starts pushing into you, he loses it.

His hips buck on their own accord and his cock fills you in one smooth thrust. He grunts as you gasp, your gummy walls fluttering as you struggle to take him.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “Sorry, bub. ‘m trying not to hurt you,” he says, opening his eyes to look down at you.

He sees you, eyes wide, tears brimming the corners. And he feels bad, so bad.

But you look so pretty…

“Oh, baby, ‘m so sorry,” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I'll pull out, okay?”

You gasp and shake your head. “No.”

He pauses. “No?”

“No. It feels good. So good,” you gasp, legs trembling.

“But, baby, you're crying,” he points out.

“They're good tears,” you say, struggling to explain it.

“…good tears?” he asks.

You nod, hips grinding against his. “Fuck me, Lo. Please, fuck me."

He caresses your cheek with his knuckles. “You sure?”

“Please.” And the way you beg, it just…drives him crazy.

“Fuck,” he mutters as he starts thrusting. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in, just how he's always wanted to.

Your reactions, the way you moan and how your hips move to meet his, spur him on even more.

One of his enormous hands grabs onto your hip, holding you in place. His other hand wraps around your throat gently as he fucks his hard and deep.

“Fuck, bub. Look ‘t you. Such a good girl.” He glances down, watching himself slide in and out. He reaches a hand down, places it on top of your womb and presses there. He can feel the bulge in your lower stomach from how big his cock is.

“So pretty for me, baby. Just letting me fill this pretty hole up, hm? Your poor little cunt can barely take it, but she'll learn. I'll fuck you again and again until your pussy is molded to the shape of my cock.”

---

Taglist

@wolviesgirl @sad0ni0n @hottiehotline @seasonofthenerd 

---

Blog masterlist

Kinktober masterlist

[slamminslamminmcgill]

all im saying is ✨Logan with a knot✨ and Wade overstimulating you bc you cant get away -🦐

shrimp anon more like shrimp COLORS bro your vision is INSANE!!!!!!

soooo idk conventional a/b/o rules and i kinda don't care so im picturing a heat cycle as once a month endeavour. and bc you're on T you're a HORNY motherfucker and you're angry and violent so it's basically whoever can get their hands on you or knot in you first will take care of you. then as long as you get bred at least once you're fine. then you calm down and it's big aftercare hours bc your post-heat clarity endorphins are going CRAZY

now since your heat only comes once a month, wade treats it as a special occasion. and it wouldn't be fair of him to do the honors EVERY month, now would it?

so even though he's home with you, and logan's not, and won't be for a while, wade wilson will refuse to fuck you. it's not his turn. he did it last month.

and your heat is MISERABLE. imagine the worst period cramp you ever had, combined with hot flashes, searing rage, and it gives your cunt the sensitivity of a fucking bear trap. you'll clamp down on anything that touches you.

so no matter how much you suffer. no matter if you scream, cry, beg, grovel, bite, or commit acts of gratuitous violence against him.

he will hold out.

he will hold out until logan gets home and finds you naked, cuffed to the bed by your hands and ankles, a chewy ball-gag in your mouth getting crushed by your gritting teeth, and wade's holding a wand vibrator to your cunt.

he waves gayly at logan, "hey pinkie pie, merry christmas! wanna come open your gift?"

"jesus christ, are you fucking torturing him?! the hell is wrong with you?!"

"with ME?! where's your holiday spirit?"

logan just stares at him blankly, puzzled by what this psychotic dipshit could possibly be talking about. in response, and in the spirit of the season, wade sings him a song.

"🎼it's the mooost wonderful tiiiiime, of the mooonth~!🎵"

now he gets it.

"oh... okay. so then why did you tie him down like that?"

"well, we had a little INCIDENT earlier..."

--

you had managed to grab one of wade's guns and shot him in the chest

"OW!!! you RESOURCEFUL little shit!!! GRRR, oh~ mysweetboybabydarling i'msoproudofyou, butnoi'mnot, BAD BOY!!!"

--

"no, i mean why didn't you take care of him your-fucking-self, wilson? you really gotta make this my problem as soon as i walk in the fuckin' door?"

"your PROBLEM?! i hand you some prime-time, limited-edition, hot and bothered, ripe for the breeding, tranny boy BUSSY on a silver platter, and that's somehow NOT where your dick wants to spend its evening? am i hearing that right? please tell me i'm not. please tell me you're not this stupid, pookie bear."

instead of arguing back, logan goes quiet. he's thinking. and then, he laughs. that low, husky laugh that you have when you're marveling at the nerve of whatever dumb motherfucker is talking to you. or maybe, when that dumb motherfucker is making a point.

"heh... y'know what? fine." logan angrily strips his clothes off, one by one. his tanktop, "you want me to be the one to knot him? huh?" his belt, his jeans "can't do anything yourself, can ya?" and lastly, his boxers. then he grabs his cock and shakes it at wade.

"so then get me hard, you faggot." he clicks his tongue twice. "c'mon."

wade throws himself at logan's knees and gives him that gawkgawk4000turbotyphoon treatment to get him up. logan sighs in relaxation, grateful that wade was putting his mouth to such better use. once his eyes flutter open, he nods at you, finally giving you even a modicum of attention while you're under intense distress, and he merely waves at you nonchalantly, like how a pedestrian does to a car that lets him cross.

"hang tight, bub. be with ya in a second."

wade works him over until his knot is just barely starting to swell. he then takes his fattened cock and slaps wade across the face with it.

"take his chains off."

"hm... are you sure you want me to do that, princess? he's feisty, y'know. might get yourself bit, if you're not careful."

logan slaps wade again, but this time it's a bitchslap, using the back of his hand. and his claws.

"take. his fucking. chains off."

"mmm, right AWAY, your majesty~!"

[poppy-metal]

idk if u plan on making clingy!Reader an AU but I imagine the first time they hook up she’s just crying and babbling about how thankful she is for this, that he’s the first guy to ever want her, no one would even look at her ,, and Patrick just kinda melts and goes even harder

This may or may not be a tad bit self indulgent 🙂‍↕️ (ugly loser core)

please patrick taking readers virginity is so 🥺 he doesn't expect it to be a big deal - i mean, he knows it is for you - and he'll make it good, of course - you're not the first virgin hes fucked, and a part of him likes it. the scummy part - the part that likes that hes leaving a mark, not on your particularly, but on anyone. virginity is a construct blah blah blah, whatever - he's your first. you'll remember him. he's important, he matters.

he knows he's a bit fucked when you shake under him - and he has the urge to soothe you - so he does. strokes his hand up your trembling thigh and tells you how pretty your pussy is - parts your shining lips with his fingers and has to swallow because fuck you're small down there. he knows he's gonna stretch you out and you're gonna choke his cock - fuck, fuck fuck.

he pumps you full of his finger - crammed tight in your wet squelching cunt - forcing it open as you twitch and whine and you're so cute, you grip onto his forearm where its flexing and you let out these little hitching breaths - cant get out full sentences, hes already making you feel so good.

he wants to put his tongue on your pussy - wants to spread you all the way open as wide as he can so he can lick you where you're all pink and wet inside - tongue your clit till you cry because if you're this overwhelmed by his fingers his tongue will drive you insane. and that's bad because this is a one time thing and he knows he's not sticking around for a second, even if your sounds are cute and your pussy is so fucking hot and tight and he wants to lean down and really make you gush on his face - tongue down between your cheeks until he - but no.

he fists his cock and when he works it inside you he looks down at where you're struggling to take him in but fuck, you take it. the flared lips of your cunt splayed around the thick intrusion of the first cock in your body - he should've fucked you on a nicer bed - not his shitty fucking box spring that creaks under his knees as he forces more of himself into you - you deserve better but it doesn't matter, does it because you picked him and you're fucking gagging for it -

"so big - so big, i - oh its -"

and you reach down to feel where hes splitting you open - eyes wide in wonder like you can't believe he fits - that you're really being penetrated by a cock - and its thick and heavy and wide and pushing pushing pushing - making room where you thought there was none.

"patrick -"

you say it kind of helplessly - like you're almost scared, shocked by how much you like this new feeling. your eyes roll back and then he feels your walls clamping around him and fuck - he looks down, lips parted -

"oh fuck, baby - are you coming?"

he cant believe it. not the coming part - he's fucking golden on making people cum on his dick. its the fact that its your first time and he hasn't even gotten to the whole fucking part of you know, fucking - and you're already spasming around him and arching like its an exorcism and jesus christ he thinks this is the most turned on he's ever been in his life.

he hunkers down over you, knees sliding against the backs of your shaking thighs to spread them wide - bears down and starts working his hips - needs to feel that pussy as it cums on his dick for the first time - you wail. hands flying up to his shoulders like you dont know if you want to claw him closer or push him away.

he makes the decision for you - overpowering you easily with your wrists in his hands, pinned down on either side of you - legs forced apart to bear the brunt of his thrusts -

he gets in your face. the dogtag necklace he wears bumping your chin as his lips skim yours - "that's so fucking hot - little virgin pussy likes this big dick inside er'? dont push me away - you fucking came all over me - can fucking feel it on my balls, you little slut - fuck -" you're going cross eyed at his thrusts at his words - he can feel the effect of it, the ripple of that pussy right on the veins of his dick as he fucking pounds you. "- was gonna be gentle but you fucking botched that - you fucking take this cock -"

he thinks you're perfect - perfect and beautiful and you cling to him and take everything he gives you like its the best thing you've ever felt. his lips crash against yours - less of a kiss and more of just a hungry mawing - you open your mouth to him and let him lick inside it - fuck his tongue down your throat and when he pulls back and wraps a hand around your throat, testing, you arch into it.

and when he says "open your mouth." it opens, wide and pink inside - and when he fucking spits in it and tells you to swallow that shit you do that too, a dazed look in your eye and he realizes you'd probably let him do anything to you.

and that might be too much power for him to have.

[whumpdoyoumean]

Whumptober #8

xxx forced to stay awake

"Do not let him sleep!" Louisa's voice, sounding strange and distant. It reminds River of the vinyl records he used to listen to with the OB as a kid, the really old ones that made his granddad get that wistful look on his face that disappeared again as soon as he caught River looking at him. Things were so much simpler back then. If he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend he's back there...

"Cartwright!" Lamb snaps, shaking him a little. "Do you want to be fired from the Service for good?"

In this moment, that actually doesn't sound like too much of a bad thing if River is being honest. He doesn't say so.

"That wasn't rhetorical." Lamb's voice is loud, sharp. "We both know how your last job interview went. No one that's any good'll take you, which means you'll be stuck behind a desk at some basic mid-level office job. Or maybe a private firm'll take you on, like your old pal Webb! Imagine working for those arseholes. Is that what you want?"

"No," River mutters.

"No? Then keep your fucking eyes open!"

River forces himself to comply. There's not much to look at, really: the back of the passenger seat; the blood on his hand; Jackson Lamb's knees; the back of Louisa's head and, when he lifts his gaze a little, a glimpse of her worried face in the rear-view. The inside of his eyelids offered a better view.

The car hits a bump, jolting him and ripping a cry from his throat as pain tears through his side and chest where the bullets had struck. His vision goes dark for a second, and then he's pulled back to awareness by the sound of Lamb's raised voice.

"Jesus Christ," he's saying. "Who taught you how to drive?"

"I'm sorry!" Louisa, voice pinched. "River, come on!"

River groans, and prying his eyelids apart is harder this time. Breathing is hard, too. Everything is hard.

"River, talk to me! You okay?" Louisa cries.

"Yup," River gasps. Another groan. "Hurts."

"I'll bet it does," Lamb says. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before running off on your own like a fucking dickhead, eh? Course, I thought the same thing the last two times you did it. It's like you never learn, no matter how many times I tell you to stop doing stupid shit."

"You can..." River really shouldn't be wasting his breath on this, but he can't help it. "You can lead a horse to water."

Lamb makes a noise that could be a snort of laughter or, more likely, he's hacking up something disgusting.

"I don't know that I could lead you fuck-ups to water if we were on a-a tiny island in the middle of the Pacific."

River tries to draw in another breath to respond, but his chest hitches and he lets out a wet cough. His mouth fills with the taste of iron and he almost gags, but coughs again instead, blood flecking his lips, and he just keeps coughing. Panic is creeping in, black dancing at the edges of his vision. He can't get enough air...

"Keep breathing," Lamb commands, his words filtering through the ringing in River's ears. The pressure he's been holding on the hole in River's chest increases as he tightens his grip.

He doesn't know how long it takes, it feels like a lifetime, but the coughing fit finally subsides. His chest is burning, head pounding. He can't catch his breath. And, more than anything else, he's so, so tired. It's a deep, heavy exhaustion. He just wants to sleep.

"Cartwright! You open your fucking eyes, now."

Fucking Lamb. Louisa is speaking too, but River can't discern the words. She's too far away. He suspects she wants him to stay awake too, though, damn her. Damn both of them.

"Now!" Lamb repeats, tapping River's face. "You hear me, Cartwright? That's an order. I know you're shit at following those, but you had better follow this one. Come on. Eyes open. If you won't do it for me, do it for Guy. You saw what happened after Min. What do you think'll happen if you die in her backseat?"

That sparks something, the faintest bit of anger, and River's eyes open a little. He doesn't know how he manages it.

He doesn't know if he'll manage it again.

xxx

[marsbabysblog]

I’m begging for Dark!Joel yelling or embarrassing a shy reader and making her cry bc his cock gets hard seeing her frustrated and with tears in her eyes.

Your Joel is now my new obsession, I love your writing so much, Ty 🥺💕

thank you so much that means so much to me 🥺🖤

i love mean!joel and my crying kink is going brrrr while writing this. I’m also adding an age gap because i love older men 🖤

Warnings: mean!joel, dark!joel, crying kink,crybaby!reader, dumb!reader, age-gap! (reader is in her 20’s, Joel is in his 50’s) pussy slapping, oral (m receiving), overstimulation

DARK + MEAN NSFW

————————————————————————

“Jesus- are you that fucking stupid?”

Joel yelled in your face, and it frightened you. You could feel the tears build up in your glassy eyes. You hated this, you hated yourself for everything. You cried whenever you were upset, whenever you were yelled at. Unfortunately for you, your much older boyfriend loved to yell at you. You didn’t know why…

“Your fucking useless, sweetheart. Just a dumb little bitch, a fucking hole to use. I would be better off without y’a…” He opened up another beer to down it. He was right. You messed up his mission and ruined the whole thing. You felt pathetic. You finally let them spill. You were so embarrassed and frustrated with yourself. You covered your face with your hands and let out pathetic sobs. If only you know how god-awfully horny it made Joel.

He adjusted his growing boner in his pants as he watched you shake and cry. You looked so pathetic and lost…it made him ache for you. He didn’t mean it, of course he didn’t mean it. He couldn’t live a day without you around him, you weren’t useless, especially not to him. But he fucking loves to watch you cry. He loved to watch the fear in your eyes as he yelled at you. Because he knew no matter how mean he was to you, you would crawl right up to him and cry into his chest. His dick kept growing at the thought of everything he wanted to do to you.

“No.” He took two strides towards you and grabbed you by your hair, pulling your head out of your hands roughly. You whimpered as your looked up at his face. “Jesus Christ…” he whispered. You looked like a fucking mess, a mess that made his dick grow to its final state. Your eyes were puffy and red, tears made your whole face wet, and finally your fucking lips…they were quivering and wet with tears and spit. He just wanted to fuck you dumb…

“If your gonna be a dumb bitch and cry…you better fucking own up to it. Now get on your knees.” His demanding tone scared you, but you couldn’t deny that your panties were dripping with arousal. You didn’t hesitate to drop down on your knees, looking up at him with your big glassy eyes. “I’m gonna fuck your dumb throat and your gonna take it like a good girl, right?” His tone was so condescending, it made you tear up more. You nodded, which earned you a slap in the face with his big hand. “Use you words. Come on, be a big girl.” You whimpered, “Y-yes sir! I’ll be good…”

“Mhm…” He grabbed at your hair again, “Take it out and suck.” You did as you were told. You unzipped his worn out jeans and took out his hard cock. He was big. Your hands hardly fit around him as your stroked it a few times, making him groan. “Come on sweetheart, don’t keep me waiting…” You opened your mouth wide to take him in, just the tip. Your jaw already started to hurt. “Jesus woman you take too fucking long.” He shoved you down on his cock without a warning, making you gag. He didn’t hesitate to start thrusting into your tiny throat. Spit dripped down your chin and tears started flowing down your cheeks once again. It only made him impossibly harder. “Fucckkkk baby…keep crying like that, good girl.” He reluctantly pulled you off his dick before he came, making you gasp for a breath. “Get on the fucking bed and strip.” You quickly stood up on your shaky legs and made you way over to his bed. You started taking off your clothes but you were too slow. “Hurry up!” He slapped you in the face and started stripping you himself.

“I’m s-sorry!” you cried out. That earned you another slap, but this time on your dripping cunt. “Did I say you could speak, slut?” You shook your head no. He slapped your pussy again, this time just for fun. Your poor puffy clit turning red from the abuse.

“I’m gonna fuck you, and you will not cum. Understand?” you nodded. “I said did you fucking understand?” His voice got louder again, scaring you and making you cry. “Yes yes I understand!” You hid your face again in your hands as you sobbed. You didn’t know why he was being so mean. He groaned as pre cum dripped down his cock. He absolutely loves hearing you cry. He slipped in without prep, your wetness basically acted as lube but the stretch still stung. “Fuck baby your tight…” You couldn’t respond as he thrusted with all of his strength. You whined and screamed on his cock. But just as your high was bubbling up in your stomach, he came deep inside and pulled out. You tried to protest but he stopped you quickly. “I told y’a that you wouldn’t cum.” You whined and felt more tears sting in your eyes.

“Baby if you keep crying, i’m gonna do this all over again…”

————————————————————————

This was actually so fun to write thank you so much 🖤 🫶 Please feel free to request more or share your thotssss

-marsswann

[bits-and-babs]

𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Previous Joel Fics: Mule [5.1K], Atta Girl [10.2K], PlayBoy [3K]

Summary: Rather than telling Joel you’re thankful for him saving your life, you show him.

Word Count: 4k

CW: A bit artsy 👀 mentions of physical assault, descriptions of wounds, detailed gore. Quickie vibes. Dirty (literally) sex. Slight exhibitionism. Gagging. Possible Ep. (4) spoilers, BASED ON THE GAME.

Tease: “Good… That should keep you quiet,” he mumbles.

Squeezing the veins in your wrists, the blanched zip ties that locked your hands tightly had cut off the circulation to your fingers. You hadn’t been able to feel them when the door burst open.

He’d stormed into the ‘abattoir’, as the Pittsburgh hunters called it, with a bull-like rage. Blood from the gaping wound on your forehead seeped into your eyes, yet you could see the heaving of his chest as he descended upon the butchers with a callous ferocity.

It all felt dream-like, the sequence of his fatal dance. The dingy room was lit only by the slithers of sunlight that peeked through the boarded windows, illuminating the dripping crimson on the blade he plunged into the hunter's throat. He offers them little solace in death, moving swiftly to the next and discarding the shiv in favour of his fists.

He tears through him, knuckles devastating the face of the man who had dragged you into the room by your hair. Discarded in the corner of the death chamber, you’d been promised a skinning, to be carved up until you painted the ashen tiles rosey. Instead, the bull-man brutalises your aggressor with military precision, slamming his head into the marble catafalque with such force that fractions of his skull fly through the room, ricocheting off the ceramic-grid walls.

You considered, at the time, that it gave the same effect as firecrackers. Though, you hadn’t felt like celebrating.

“You bit?” He’d asked, detecting you on his final sweep of the room. In turn, you offered an almost comically meek shake of your head, daunted by the cruor that dripped across his face. You were inclined to remember Carrie, the pigs' blood painting her prom dress and staining her blonde hair. Likening your captor to a pig felt cruel to the swine.

Your saviour hovered, his eyes drifting over your exposed skin in search of teeth marks.

“Jesus Christ, Joel!” A loud, alarmed cry of a young girl had shocked you from your trepid-haze. She lingered in the doorway, staring slack-jawed at the blood that soaks the aggressive animal she calls ‘Joel’. Her youthful face is round, dotted with freckles and her mousy brown hair is pulled up in a ponytail. Strands of her fringe frame her face, and scrapes cover her cheekbones and chin.

“Ellie,” Joel had answered with a firm tone, ordering her attention, “We gotta go; they ain’t gonna take long to fi-“

“You can’t just leave her here,” The young girl, Ellie, squeaked in utter dismay, the frantic wave of her index finger at your bindings indicating her urgency.

Joel’s expression showed his irritation, opening his mouth to argue before letting out a strangled growl. His blood-wet hands white-knuckled the shiv in the body he had discarded, pulling the weapon from its throat with a sickening squelch.

Stepping over to you, he’d slipped the shiv between your hands, slicing through the zip-ties with a single heave. The blade's flat edge painted the insides of your wrists with sticky gore.

That was six hours ago if the moon's location was anything to judge. Joel had led both you and Ellie through the savage streets of Pittsburgh, narrowly evading the Humvee that cruised the roads. With the machine gun trained on the shadows in the alleyways, the hunters implored ‘the man and the girl’ to reveal themselves; their voices tinged callously. The decaying corpse strapped to the hood of the armoured vehicle hadn’t gone unnoticed by you, and you doubt Joel, eagle-eyed as he was, had overlooked the wordless threat either.

The environment was challenging, flooded hotels with rusted elevators that were out of use and crumbling buildings that were dangerous to scale. Despite the risk, Joel remained calm and led you and Ellie through it with barely a fault.

By evening, as the lowering sun painted the bloodied streets with an ichor glow, your impromptu group had discovered more survivors- Sam and Henry. The brothers had offered shelter in exchange for company and aid crossing town. Once again, Joel had begrudgingly obliged.

Henry had opened the door to his safe house, situated within a rundown apartment building. He and Sam shared out blueberries, the kids toying around and taking turns throwing the fruits into each other's mouths before sleeping for the night, Joel insisting the two needed rest for the final frontier tomorrow.

With the children asleep, Joel and Henry set about their plan to leave the city. The uncertainty you felt about Joel’s appreciation for your presence kept you from adding to the proposal. Regardless, both men appeared confident without your input — natural leaders born from protecting their respective children.

It’s sometime past midnight. Joel sits at the window, a mixture of the silver moonlight and the golden lampposts just beyond the glass pane illuminating his face. Henry had given up his post an hour ago, retreating to a mattress in the corner of the room to recoup. Joel has taken over, lost in deep thought. His eyes scan the streets below in search of a threat, be it the homicidal Humvee or clickers crawling around in the shadows.

Unspoken gratitude sticks to your oesophagus, causing a lump in your throat. Despite his hesitation, Joel had saved you from those hunters and led you through the city until freedom was within touching distance. Something told you he was deserving of thanks for at least gifting you this golden opportunity.

Joel’s silver hair glows in the moonlight, strands of platinum against the bronze. The scar stretching across the bridge of his nose appears ruddy in the low light, drawing attention to the age-old wound and causing you to contemplate how he got it.

You know practically nothing about this man beside the obvious; His name, that he’s guardian to the young kid called Ellie, who you’re not even sure is his child. Your only other observation was that he was a brilliant battle strategist and executioner. Joel’s weapon skill is undeniable, his hands brutal and deadly with a handle or a trigger.

Regardless of this limited information which ensures he remains more of an enigma than a friend, your heart thrums wildly in your chest as you watch him, bathed in the glow of the night while protecting his new-found group of survivors.

If you weren’t so fucking hot, you’d put it down to a fever-chill, delirious with flu. Sadly, you could only put your crush-like symptoms down to years of solitude. The little kindness the gruff, staunch man had shown you had kicked your heart into overdrive, millennia of evolution and human nature begging you to search for further comfort in him. All this within six hours.

Pathetic.

Suppression of the ridiculous notion simply isn’t enough. Your body yearns for Joel’s touch. Despite the feral and frankly terrifying way he dismantled his foes, your brain has somehow managed to convince you of his suitability as a partner, a protector.

At the very least, you manage to steer your lovesick brain towards at least thanking him for rescuing you from your bindings. However, it’s as though your lips are frozen. Situated in the corner of the room, you cannot will yourself to speak, can’t urge yourself to articulate your appreciation.

Instead, you stand. Joel’s eyes snap towards you, the fingers that had been scratching at his beard stilling at the motion he detected in the corner of his eye. He seems to settle at the sight of you, though, muscles melting back into their semi-relaxed posture as you approach slowly, careful to avoid knocking anything that could wake those around you.

“Trouble sleepin’?” He broaches conversation delicately, as though he’s uncertain you’re strong enough to face communication. It’s not as though you’re surprised; you probably reminded him of a kicked puppy when he discovered you shivering and whimpering in the disgusting corner of the abattoir.

You offer a nod, which Joel returns with a slow bob of his head. His eyes flicker to the window, hawk-eyes scanning the area before turning his attention back to you. “Can’ta been easy for you.”

Swallowing thickly, you urge the words forwards from your throat. When your thanks breach your lips, to your embarrassment, your voice cracks. No sound comes out.

Joel’s eyebrow arches, the crinkles on his forehead deepening as he watches you struggle to articulate.

“You feelin’ okay?” He asks you, pupils once again dragging across your exposed skin in search of bites. The simple action has your cheeks burning in the darkness, and it’s as though he’s hypnotised you with this minute act of kindness. “You’ve been quiet since we got back.”

How pitiful that is; simply asking you if you felt okay being enough to make you fall head over heels for a stranger.

Joel shifts towards you in his seat, palm settling against the rotten wood of the window sill to steady himself. His muscles ripple beneath the fabric of his flannel, and you can’t help how your heart surges against your sternum. It’s screaming out how you want him so bad it’s almost dizzying. You want him.

“Haulin’ ass across the city like that must’a been difficult after that close call,” he continues the one-sided, hushed conversation. Clearly, this was unlike Joel’s brusque persona, but he was delicate with you, and you find it all the more endearing. “M’Sorry if it was too much, we couldn’t risk bein’ caught aga-“

You lunge forward, capturing Joel’s slightly chapped lips against your own. The sudden movement appears to have shocked the poor man, his hands hovering in the air on either side of your head and balling into fists on instinct. It’s ridiculous, but you’re trembling as you kiss him, overwhelmed with nerves at his body's rigid stance. You hear him release a haggard gasp of surprise through his nose, but he does nothing to pull you from him.

Anxiety has your body frozen in place until you feel the rough, survival-calloused touch of his palms against the skin of your arms. It urges you to search for your own anchor, your hand settling on the thick chords of his neck and your fingertips scraped by the rough texture of his beard. You’re startled by the frantic thumping of his pulse there.

It’s like you both spark into action at once. Joel’s tongue slips past your lips and traces across your tastebuds clumsily, losing all composure as you pull him closer. His fingertips are digging into the muscles of your biceps while you grasp frantically at the collar of his dirtied flannel.

It felt dream-like. Touch and affection after countless days and nights of solitude have you almost delirious when you wrap your forearms around his neck. You wonder how long he’s been on his own, his own hands frenzied as they settle on the globes of your ass. Embarrassingly, you’re whimpering at the sensation of his tongue swirling around your own and Joel’s hushing you when he pulls back.

“C’mere,” his baritone voice vibrates through you head to toe as he hooks his hands under the backs of your thighs, lifting your body for you to cling to him. His equanimity long forgotten, Joel appears to clutch at this opportunity for intimacy as desperately as you do, carrying you across the floor of the room. He’s careful not to rush, quiet as he passes the sleeping children to approach one of the doors to another room.

You’re a menace, dragging your tongue across the vein protruding through the veil of skin across his neck. He tastes salty, sweat clinging to him from the efforts of escaping the hunters and a twinge of iron from the blood that had washed off in the flooded hotel. You’re already addicted to his musky scent, moaning softly against his throat. It earns you a yank of your hair in warning, his body pushing through a doorway and clicking the lock behind you before you yelp out in surprise.

“Told you to be quiet,” he mumbles hoarsely, lacking any sense of admonishment.

“Fuck,” you whisper against his skin, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt in an attempt to strip him and gain further access. Joel carries you in the almost pitch blackness, using the moon's low light dripping through the far window to locate a sofa. He lowers you down onto the dusty fabric, but neither of you seems bothered by the less-than-ideal location - the likelihood of surviving tomorrow to get another chance at this was slim.

The wall between you and the rest of the group seems to settle Joel, his actions a little less restrained. He sinks his hips between your thighs, knees resting on the cushions as his hands drag up the peaks and troughs of your ribcage and a squeeeze at the flesh of your breasts. It causes your hips to lift from the sofa, grinding against his own blindly. The whines that leak from your lips are obscene, erect nipples brushing his rough palms as he grips at your boobs.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel moans mindlessly, leaning down quickly to press his lips to yours and mute your filthy noises. Your knees hook over his hip bones, the heels of your feet pushing against his ass to pull him harder against you in a desperate attempt to feel closer to him.

Somewhere between groping in the darkness and kissing him breathlessly, you hear Joel let out a ragged gasp of his own, your clothed crotch rubbing just right at his growing erection.

Fervently, you’re grabbing at his belt and battling the darkness to unhook the prong from the leather. Joel’s palms are pushing under the hem of your t-shirt, raising it over the curve of your breasts so that the bunched-up material settles just under your throat. This way, he has unfettered access to the naked swell of your boobs. He envelopes your nipple with his mouth, tongue swirling over the nub and dragging a needy whimper of his name from your throat.

Somehow, between the mess of limbs and bundled-up fabric, you manage to unhook his belt. Slipping it from the loops in his jeans, you throw it to the floor recklessly. The metal of the discarded buckle clatters against the wooden floor, and you can’t help the bubbling complaints in your chest when Joel pauses his ministrations at the loud noise.

He’s listening out for the group waking, you know this, but you’re so desperate that you’re frantically shoving your hand underneath the seam of his trousers and gripping at the velvety shaft of his cock. Joel groans against the supple flesh in his mouth, holding your other breasts in a bruising, punishing grip.

“Fuck-“ he mumbles illegibly against your skin, releasing it from his mouth with an audible pop. “So fuckin’ desperate. You like havin’ your tits out for me like this?” There’s a flutter of amusement in his voice, feverish at how your body responds to his touch.

You nod quickly, chest heaving as you agitatedly grab at him with a soft whimper. Joel lets out a pleased hum as you flick the button of his jeans, pulling the fly down to hurry him up. A thatch of curls peaks from behind the bottom of the zipper, exposing his nakedness beneath his trousers. Your eyes flicker up to Joel in shock, skin burning.

Joel doesn’t offer you a moment to address his commando-ness, instead hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your jeans. He doesn’t bother to unbutton them, instead opting to wrench them over the width of your hips with a strong heave. Your underwear goes with them, the tightness of the unforgiving fabric of your jeans dragging them down your thighs and bruising your hip bones.

You’re grasping blindly at the armrest above your head as Joel spreads your legs wide, his hands settled on the backs of your thighs. He hasn’t even bothered to remove his jeans entirely; the waistband dropped just above his knees.

“Fuck-“ He grits out between his teeth, sweeping the tip of his cock through the weeping mess between your folds. You’re soaked. You can hear it, the glossy wetness loud in the quiet of the room as he lubricates the head of his dick with your cum.

He nudges against your neglected clit, and the barely there friction is enough to rip a choked sob from you. Your knuckles strain at how hard you grip the corduroy fabric of the sofa. Joel’s hold on you is equally strained, grabbing handfuls of flesh from your thighs and pulling until it aches.

Your pussy clenches as he drags himself back through your folds, settling the head of his dick against your entrance. His chest is heaving, steadying himself against the arousal humming in his bones. It had been years of loneliness, no doubt for the two of you, and you weren’t confident it would last longer than a few moments.

Slowwwwly, he’s sheathing himself inside you with a steady roll forward of his hips. Your toes curl into the small of his back as he stretches you open with his length, pressure building deep in your abdomen already. Joel lets out a strained growl as he slams his fist into the cushion beneath your head.

“F-uck-“ he chokes out, watching your head tilt back into the sofa, your jaw slack. It’s like he’s pushing the oxygen out of your body to make room for him, your lungs burning white hot.

Joel’s forehead braces against your collarbone, rattling breaths indicating the strain your heat has on his concentration. “Christ- I just- fuck, gimmie a minute.”

His cock is throbbing inside you, nudging against your walls as you spread your thighs wider. His breath is hot against your skin, fanning across your sternum and grounding you from the intense strain against his width.

Joel manages to collect himself eventually, nodding weakly and steadying his palm against the sofa’s armrest. He uses his other hand to tilt your hips upwards, testing the waters by slowly pulling himself from your sopping heat and inching inside you again slowly.

It’s as though he’s punched you in the gut, dispelling what little oxygen you had left and winding you. A high-pitched wail falls from your mouth, and he’s quick to cover your lips with his palm, groaning out as he pushes himself flush inside you. You swear you can see his lashes flutter as his eyes roll back, your tight walls driving him insane.

“Shut up,” he somewhat begs you, nose pushed into the soft flesh of your cheek as he whispers into your ear. Then he’s grinnddding up against something utterly devastating inside you, heaving gasps of his name leaving you from behind his hand.

“JoelJoelJoelJoel,” you sob, tears welling as his cock splits you open again. Your cunt is loud too, creaming around his dick as you cry loudly. Joel’s laughing weakly, finding your almost devastating arousal amusing if a little nerve-wracking considering you’re definitely being too loud.

“This ain’t gonna work,” Joel mumbled softly, slipping out from you again. It causes you both to gasp at the loss of friction, your hips pushing back against your will in search of his touch.

“N-No wait-“ you beg with a whisper, scared he’s giving up on this, “I can be good, I’ll be quiet, I promise-“

Joel cuts off your rambling suddenly, looping his arm underneath your hips and heaving you over until you lay flat on your stomach. You feel his abdomen resting against your back, arching over you as he reaches over your body.

“Joe-“ you attempt to ask him what he’s doing, but you don’t make it that far. Joel’s fingers slide into your mouth, pushing down on the flat of your tongue and sinking down your throat. You gag around them at first, surprised by the intrusion.

A rumble sounds beside your ear, Joel humming in appreciation as you grow accustomed to the feeling and begin to suck on his digits. “Good… That should keep you quiet,” he mumbles, nose pressing into your hair as his free hand angles your hips upwards again.

You feel him notch against your entrance again before slowly grinding himself back into you. He stretches you nicely this time, sinking inside to the hilt until his hips meet the curve of your ass. Whimpers leaking from your lips are smothered by the blockage of his fingers in your mouth.

“Perfect.”

With that, Joel pulls his hips back before slamming back inside of you to the point it jolts your body up the sofa. You sob out; the sound blocked in your throat as Joel sets a brutal pace, pounding into you so hard that your ears start ringing. The slapping of his skin meeting yours and quiet curses dripping from his mouth is all that sounds through the room.

Your stifled cries rise in pitch despite their muted volume, the head of Joel’s dick pushing up against something utterly ruinous inside you. His hand on your hip uses your body as a counterweight, pulling you back onto his cock to meet his thrusts, and it’s like your vision is swimming.

“Oh god-“ you choke out around his fingers, but it comes out all slurred and incoherent, your body trembling at the rising pressure building inside it.

“Mhmm f-fuck,” Joel hums into your ear, beginning to lose composure already. “God— ‘m gonna cum, fuckin’— so tight. ”

Joel reached around your waist, feeling blindly through his thrusts for your clit. It doesn’t take long, and a single, delicate brush against the sensitive nerves has your eyes rolling back in your skull while everything below your hips clamps down suddenly.

You go rigid, squeezing his cock tightly through your mind-melting orgasm. The muscles of your thighs are trembling, and you let out a hoarse shout that Joel only just manages to suppress by shoving his fingers deeper down your throat, to the point your teeth press into the back of his palm hard.

Pathetic whimpers are all you can manage as he suddenly slows down, his grip on you almost bruising as you bear down on him. “Ngh— Fuckin’ shit-! I’m—“

Joel’s fumbling to get out of the confines of your greedy cunt, grabbing ahold of his cock with his palm and barely managing to pump it more than once before he’s cumming, the warm yet feeling of his cum spurting across your back causing your sore muscles to contract in shock. You hear him growl quietly, and it sounds like he’s biting his lip to hold in the sinful noises.

When the ringing dissipates, you hear the panting from both of your lungs, Joel’s ragged as he removes his fingers from your mouth, strings of saliva trailing from your lips. He leans back against the sofa, groaning softly. You glance over your shoulder, unable to find the strength to lift your body yet. He’s rubbing at his face with his hands, looking utterly exhausted.

“Christ,” his accent seems thicker like this, slurred with bliss and fatigue. “That your way’a sayin’ thank you?” His question hangs in the air before his eyes glance at you.

Nodding slowly, you offer a wordless answer which causes him to let out a single, short exhale—something like a laugh.

“Mhm. It’s a pretty interestin’ way of showin’ gratitude.”

“You didn’t seem to mind,” you whisper to him shyly, your voice hoarse from his fingers shoved down your throat.

He tilts his head back slowly, arms resting against the back of the sofa, and shakes his head slowly. No, he didn’t. Chances are the group wouldn’t make it past the Humvee tomorrow, and if the armoured vehicle didn’t get them, the guards on the bridge just might.

“Get some rest,” he whispers to you, standing up from the sofa on unsteady legs and pulling his jeans up. “Gotta go back on watch, and you gotta be ready for the shit storm comin’ tomorrow.”

A smile plays on your lips, watching him redress. Sounds like you’re invited to join in on his little escape plan after all. You remember how he dismantled the hunters when he saved you, the brutal nature of ripping him down each threat with frightening skill.

Somehow you felt you’d be just fine.

“Got it.”

END

Taglist 🏷️: @hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @welcometostayingawake @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke @polaroidpetal @foxilayde @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @astroboots @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @ofmortems @hold-our-destiny @xcatnapsx @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @erenbissexual @alwritey-aphrodite @maggotzombie @deadpige0n @bakerstreethound @whatthehekko @cottagebunny9 @bit-dodgy-innit @peachyproserpina

[filthy-baee]

eddie fucking reader in his bedroom and they’re sooooooo loud bc wayne’s at work but OH! no he’s not at work! he got home earlier than usually! and he hears everyyyyythingggggg

next morning at breakfast he gives them a condom „i can’t afford another child“

Note: Pffff this is way too funny! I remember my dad saying something like this to me when I was younger and I had my first boyfriend. I changed it a little bit, but I hope that's okay for you. Thanks a lot for requesting! 💕 | English isn't my first language, so there will be some grammar errors. Not proofread!

Red as a tomato

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, MDNI, 18+, oral (f reciving), petnames, daddy kink, ball gag, bondage (hand cuffs), fingering, squirting, biting, dirty talk, crying, getting walked in on, if I forgot something please tell me

Y/N's skin was glistening from the sheen of sweat that formed on her body. Eddie was between her legs, laping at her wet folds. A small patch of wetness has began to form under her ass. As Eddies fingers found her aching hole she tried to wiggle away, her third orgasm of the night slowly beginning to build in her stomach. "Mmhg!" is the only thing Y/N can mumble with her mouth bound by a heartshaped gag. Eddie grinned at her, his breath fanning over her hot pussy. "Awww princess. Are you getting close again? For the third time this evening, right?" he mocked her, slowly circling her wet folds with his fingers. Eddies finger entered her hole slowly pumping in and out of it. Y/N tried to close her legs, the feeling becoming too much for her. "I asked you a question, princess." Eddie mumbled forcefully opening her legs even more, licking a fat stripe from his fingers to her clit.

"Yesh, daddy": she mumbled out, spit dripping down on her face. Her hands were bound above her head tightly with Eddie's handcuffs. They start to shake as Eddie starts his chicane again. He pumped three of his thick fingers into her tight cunt, the room being filled with the squeeking sounds of her pussy and the slurping from Eddie's mouth.

Y/N starts to shake uncontrollably, her wrists rattling against the headboard. "Hold it a little longer, princess." he came up to her, whispering into her neck as his thumb drew tight circles on her puffy clit.

Her pussy tightend around his fingers and he knew Y/N was close. "You want to come, princess? Be a good girl and...cum!" As the last word left Eddie's mouth Y/N came around his fingers, squirting on his bed and on his hand. Eddie bit into her neck, making her orgasm even harder. Y/N's mouth escaped a loud moany scream, her body trembling.

Suddenly the door opened with a forceful swing! Y/N looked at Eddie in shock, as she couldn't see who opened the door, she only saw Eddie's blown pupils looking directly into hers.

"Kiddos! Is everything-?!" As Wayne saw the scenario right in front of his eyes, he couldn't believe what he just saw. His eyes met shortly with Y/N's shoked ones, as Eddie turned around to face his uncle. He holds his hands in front of his eyes, trying to get rid of the image now burned into his brain. "Oh, Jesus Christ!" Wayne screamed. Eddie tried to cover up as much of Y/N as possible with his own body, but Wayne saw everything. The cuffs, the gag, the whole thing that went on.

"Wayne! Get out!" Eddie yelled, throwing a blanket over Y/N's naked body. Y/N couldn't move away, but if she could she would jump through the window and run. This has to be the most embarrissing moment in her life! Her cheeks were a deep red and small tears formed at the corners of her eyes. Eddie looked down at her for a second, before he heard the door close again, followed by a loud "Sorry guys! Just...calm down a little!" from Wayne. It all happened so fast but for Y/N it still felt like a eternity. This was awful. Both thought that Wayne was out the whole night working and they didn't even hear him open the front door.

"What the...?" Eddie mumbled and looked down at his poor girlfriend. Tears rolled down her blushy cheeks and her mouth was shaking around the gag. " Sorry! Wait-!" Eddie said as he opened the cuffs for her and her hands fall in front of her face. She tried to hide behind them, too embarrassed to even look at Eddie. She opened the gag, spit covering her cheeks and chin. Y/N curled up into a ball, throwing the blanket over her whole body and face, letting out a deep sigh.

"Hey, baby...It-It's okay. He didn't see anything." Eddie tried to sooth her, coming closer to her and rubbing her back with his still wet hand. "Don't lie, Eddie! He saw everything! We even had eyecontact!" Y/N whined, trying to wiggle away from his touch. Her nose was runny, her voice barely there. Eddie sighed, coming closer and crawling under the blanket with her. He was still fully clothed, his jeans rough against her hot skin. He pulled her closer and Y/N hid in his chest, drying her tears with his band shirt. Eddie carefully stroked her hair, pulling her even more into his body. He kissed her forehead, a calming hand on her back. "It's not the end of the world. I mean- he knows what we are up to...you are loud enough." he tried to lighten the mood a little, making a small smile appear on her lips. "Yeah, but- but he never saw iiiiit." she sobbed, letting the last word out in a annoyed tone. "It's okay, baby. Come here." Eddie said, rubbing her back and pulling her up, so she laid on him, her arm on his chest.

Eddie patted her head, telling her sweet nothings into her ear, as she slowly drifted away to sleep. She was done for the night, not only because of the encounter with Wayne but also the orgasms Eddie pulled from her one after another. As she peacefully slept in his arms, Eddie tried to wiggle away from her grip, but it was no use. Her hand was curled up fisting his already loose shirt, one leg swung over his hips. He could still feel the wetness from between her legs on his jeans. His cock twitched in his tight pants and it took everything in him, to not wake her again for some fun. He knew she wouldn't want it right now, as she was too sleepy and still uncomfortable because of this whole situation. Eddie also felt a little tired and he slowly fell asleep too.

The next morning he woke up still in the same position, but Y/N laid on him with her whole body, caging him in under her. Eddie let out a small laugh, she was just too cute.

He pulled her softly off of him, giving her a pillow, so she could cuddle with something else. He pecked her cheek and went off to the kitchen, to get him something to drink.

Wayne was awake, a small coffeecup in front of him. "Morning, boy." he mumbled, also still tired. Wayne felt uneasy, still thinking about the weird encounter last night. He fumled with something in his hand and got up to Eddie, who was at the kitchen sink, pouring himself a coffee too.

"Boy, uhm. Take these for the next time." Wayne holds a pack of condoms up to Eddie's face. Eddies face grew red, as he grabs the condoms out of his hand. Before Eddie could say anything, Wayne said again "I know what those stains are on your bed. Please, for the love of god, use some condoms, Edward. I can't afford a second child."

Eddie's face grew as red as a tomato and he just nodded and pushed the condoms into his backpocket, fleeing from the scene with his coffee in his shaky hands. He closed his bedroom door behind him, letting out a loud breath, he didn't even know he was holding in. Y/N left her head from her pillow, her hair a hot mess. Her still sleepy eyes met Eddie's gaze. A small smile formed on his lips.

"You were right. He saw everything." Eddie said as he pointed on the now dry stains on his bed. Y/N buried her face in the pillow again, but Eddie could still see a small grin on her face.

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 159 spoilers and thoughts below the cut yep just the usual

.

.

.

JAVIERS FACE LMFAO "wow. these people are so weird. thank god im the only normal person here" jesus christ this entire estate is insane /aff

also i think im required to inform that i sent this panel to some of my irls because they're also civil engineers, and i asked if they recognized any of this and they said "oh god yeah"

so we can pleasantly confirm that the adaptor/artist are still referencing real civil engineering stuff!

while we're still here at the start of the ep/my thoughts i do wanna say, the whole "ugly" gag is getting. a little too well worn

it is really well drawn! the artist is very skilled at drawing exaggerated expressions and its always fun to see, but i think this is like the third or fourth time now that this has been used, and i think my brain is just tired of the repeated schtick. i dont hate it, but the funny has moved on for me

i really hope that in this next arc we see a return of a devilish or conniving lloyd, rather than silly "ugly" expressions; its funny when he looks stupid but id like a better balance, which means i want more instances of him looking cool and smart as hell!!!

of course these words will. probably fall on deaf ears its not like i can message the artist/adaptor directly lmfao but yknow its the thought that counts i guess. actually i might be using that phrase wrong not sure

ANYWAY ANYWAY verkis looks so pretty here,, i like that he confirmed lloyds intentions w the jewel of truth . truly a man who wants to do Nothing thats so real of him me too bud

AND THENNN my personal favorite peak of the episode THE SWORDMASTER SYNDROME KICKING IN AAAAAHHH AAAAHHHH

IT MAKES SENSE THAT LLOYD PUSHING HIS MANACIRCLES TO THE LIMIT WOULD BE THE LAST PUSH HE NEEDS TO BECOME A HIGH LEVEL SWORD EXPERT and now hes suffering the consequence of not dealing with this earlier </3 get overstim'd idiot shouldve taken a break before this happened bozo!!! /j

i really really REALLY love how the text and the effects were drawn in these panels and the following ones (thats three reallys!!!)!! the visual echo and then the sudden sharp jaggedness, it really shows how much OUCH and impact it has and i really really love it YEAHHHH PUT LLOYD THROUGH THE WRINGER YEAHHH YEAHHH

AND THEN JAVIER KEEPS LOOKING SO FUCKING HAPPY THROUGHOUT THIS EPISODE PLEASSEEJ LKAJDFLKSJDFLKJSDFLK JHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH he's having a grand ol time lmfao now his noble can experience what he had to go through!!!

ALSO ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW THE VERY FIRST THING THAT LLOYD LOOKS AT WITH HIS NEW HEIGHTENED VISION IS JAVIERS FACE AND HOW PERFECT IT IS HELLO HELLO HELLO HELLO you could have looked at anything else and yet the first thing you narrow in on is javiers face IM SHAKING YOU LLOYD

no seriously wow he's so pretty ALSO THE FUCKING. HAND POSE IM CRYING

also its really really fluffy nice that javier helped lloyd with getting used to his senses! though they couldnt really do anything abt his insomnia

i had heard that some really cute moments got cut from the novel in this little timeskip here which is like awww i wish we got to see it like, that short bit with the "ugly" gag could have been replaced with the moments from the novel and itd still fit the episode length! at least i think

(like i was told that lloyd gets called "good boy" by javier. like. WHAT. WHAT. GOOD BOY??? GOOD BOY??? AND THAT GOT CUT?????? GOOD BOY!?!?!?!? i told my irls abt this and we collectively had a stroke i wish it made it in bc javiers face when saying that and lloyds reaction wouldve been PRICELESSSS)

oh but also back to talking about javier helping lloyd out, i think its really really cute,,, i know its not explicitly said or shown but i want to think that javier is able to repay the lullaby in a sense by doing this. i really like that javier not only depends on lloyd, but lloyd depends on javier too, and they can rely on each other. thinking about that makes my heart warm and my feet kick and then i start giggling like a maniac

anyway few month timeskip and lloyd u look tired as hell im so sorry buddy

though honestly i really like how he looks in this panel for some reason HAHAHAHA idk him just looking grumpy and tired is fun bc u dont really see it that often u usually see him being silly or evil more so this is a nice panel to have heehee

disgruntled tired sleep deprived engineer now aint that the realest STEM experience ever,,, shaking ur hand lloyd i get u i understand

AND THEN THE END OF THE EP HI RAPHAEL the angel arc!! i guess!! idk the names of these arcs

i wonder how he'll try to enforce this,,, and i wonder how lloyd will get out of it,,, like did tkobai ever go over the angels and what they do? does lloyd know about them?

i did see pics of what he looks like from the novel and we were SO robbed of very pretty long wavy hair, it seems the artist just chopped it all off,,, uueueueueuee

i posted abt this on twitter already but my singular cope is that we actually just havent seen the rest of his hair and its just in a ponytail and its like really really thin and we'll see the rest of his hair soon trust <- copium pumping

and a bonus little illustration, happy chuseok!!!

thats all from me!!!!!!! IM REALLY EXCITED TO SEE WHERE THIS ANGEL ARC GOES and whether or not lupellan and wrot,,,, whatever his name was are going to interfere also,,, triple clash!!! also if he'll ever overcome his insomnia,,,

see yall next week :3

[zabala0z]

TMA S3 makes me want to cry and like shake around the characters in a fun box. Anyways hi!!! I’m here like 5 mins later.

MAG 102:

“I’ve been trying to give you the information you need”

“Sure, when you’re not bashing its head in with a pipe” GAGGED.

I want to know what happened though with Helen and Jon???? Like did they talk, what did Jon do?? I need to know. Is Michael like fully dead? I guess he can’t die really. I can’t fully grasp the situation with Michael-Helen-The Spiral.

Anyways, I guess that’s why Not! Sasha was going to the wax museum. That’s where the Unknowing will happen. Cannot blame Melanie for trying to kill Elias again. I’d do it too. So, this French guy had like a pretty similiar situation to Jane Prentiss, with the whole “bugs love me and I love them, etc”. Crazy Gerard and Gertrude worked together??? The weirdest duo ever. Goth guy and old woman. I wanna know Gerard Keays deal. I need to hear his voice

Not much on MAG 103. Guess that’s why Gertrude went to New Zealand. Jon is cooking up a plan with Daisy and I’m praying it goes well. Another meat statement. Whatever the meat entity is, I want nothing to do with it. I also realized that when Leitner mentioned his assistant getting consumed by like a pile of meat, that’s like connected to MAG 18. Toby Carlisle. I’ll edit that post. (EDIT 9/2: I just realized when reading over MAG 58 that the cannibalistic guy is named Benjamin Carlisle. Jesus. This meat theme went through generations. Ill edit that post as well)

MAG 104: Sneak Preview

I hate this so much, I want to like give Tim a nice blanket. Everyone in this podcast needs a damn blanket.

The fact the theatre was destroyed by fire twice makes me think The Desolation had something to do with it cause y’know fire. The clown being Joseph Grimaldi is interesting. A real person being applied to the podcast, I think that’s cool. I mean bros dead it’s a free real estate. Also I’m a bit worried about Tim and his “mild” suicidal tendencies now.

Didn’t glean much from MAG 105 but a lot of death (of course, it’s about war) and like the undead. Xiaoling was sweet. Interesting the institute has a sister institute?? I hope they come up more

MAG 106: A Matter of Perspective

Oh hey, it’s the other guy from Personal Space! Apparently he didn’t have a better time than Carter Chilcot. Pretty sure this is another like The Vast statement y’know. The whole nihilism thing. I want to see Manuela’s story because it was said her fingers were burned, her eyes were red and she was withdrawn I believe so clearly something happened with her. No idea what was blocking the stars.

Elias. I swear, I swear I hate this man so much 😭 the fact Mealnies dad was in Ivy Meadows (MAG 36) is unlucky. Smoke inhalation would’ve been the better death. God I love Melanie like leave her alone Elias

Anyways! That’s all I got. I stopped taking my daily synopsis’s of every episode because school started up and while I love this podcast, I got things to do unfortunately 💀 so I’m just relying on my brain and my 10/10 memory.

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

IT Takes a Mob pt 4

First

previous 

Bill knew three things as he came to.

One, something squirmy just landed on his chest. Two, the apartment stunk in a way it usually didn’t. And three, for living alone, Bill’s apartment was filled with a lot of sounds that were vaguely concerning.

Primary, the cussing, and the smoke alarm.

‘Is it worth it Bill? Is waking truly worth it?’

The answer was quickly taken from his hands when as a small hand shoved itself up his nose with the sound of a happy gurgle.

“Gah-!”

Shooting up he lifted up the squealing mass into the air.

The little heathen didn���t even seem to realize how rude he had been. Kicking his little feet around and with a babble.

“Kid, first rule of my house, don’t interrupt a man’s sleep.”

“Aba ba bah..”

“You’re right, that alarm is annoying; guess we have to go yell at the nitwits.”

There was a crash from the kitchen,

~~~~

“Do I want to even know?”

“Well ah, probably not.”

What once was a small window into alleyway was now a hole in his wall.

Glancing down Bill grimaced as the dumpster continued to crackle.

“That was my good fuckin’ pan.”

“For what it’s worth, it was honestly a mistake to leave Ken to watch the stove while I fed Danny. I forgot.”

Bill wafted the towel in his hand to his old window with a scowl,

“How could you forget? Like there’s three consecutive rules throughout the safe houses and two of them are to keep Ken out of the kitchen.”

Ken ducked his head as he opened the apartment door.

Marv continued to bounce Danny, with a snort,

“Yeah, the kid has a talent man, I didn’t even know eggs could burn that fast.”

With another shake of his head Bill left to get himself ready.

~~~~~~

“So now what?”

Bill met Ken’s eyes in the mirror as he washed his face,

“Unless you’re asking about my cast iron you’re going to have to be more specific.”

He took pleasure as he watched they younger man roll his eyes.

“I meant the kid. Now what?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because we need a plan,”

Ken glared at Bill’s deadpan in the reflection.

“Don’t give me that look, as much as I like Marv we both know he ain’t exactly thinking at the moment.”

He gave a wince,

“I love Danny an’ shit but this isn’t something we can wing, you know? Need prep and fuck knows what else.”

Exiting to the hall Bill gave a snort,

“You got that right, as far as I can see it, we need to sit down and strategize, need a list of everybody on roster. Separate the names of trustworthy players from the average goon before starting to sort out who can and would take in the bugger. After that we need a rotation an-“

A cry broke out as they rounded into the living room on a frazzled Marv.

“Shhh shhh. You’re alright, shhh. Oh, great timing guys! Not it!!”

Bill barely had time to grab hold of the crying tike before Marv backed up.

“Jesus Christ what’s gotten into yo-“

The stench reached his nose.

Ken gagged and took a step back,

“Ah man, not it!”

“You-! Fine, where’s the bag with the diapers?”

Hoodlums:

@reinluna,@confused-moose-child,@mimilikey,@emeraudesfateandfandoms, @dolfay, @boredomfarie, @aconitewolfsbane, @withoutcontxt, @onyxlightdragon, @satanicrutialspecialist, @phoenixdemonqueen, @vixen-uchiha, @skulld3mort-1fan, @bytheoldwillowtree, @illusionwolfwriter24r8, @thewondersoflebanon, @vipower001, @autumnwulf, @alice-hazelwood, @fisticuffsatapplebees, @f4nd0m-fun, @markus209,  @dolfay, @basilf1res, @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair, @skirter01, @bun-fish, @ascetic-orange, @thegatorsgoose, @sunflowershine03, @ladythugs, @firegirl108, @glitchedchaos, @rangerhorsetug, @mimilikey, @booberrylizard, @wolfjackle,  @lehana37, @dragongoblet, @flamey-comet, @mandyne-1001, @starscreamlover, @moonfirearc, @bae-graphomaniac, @mewzaque, @wolfeyedwitch, @idfk-man10, @demon-cat-goes-woof, @undead-essence, @jaguarthecat, @scythegal, @dolfay, @boo-ghosties, @8-29pm, @alixanterm, @aria7silver, @cyber-geist, @alice-hazelwood, @littlefeather345, @terzatheunderscorerima, @raspberry-muffin

[slicznymartwy]

Maybe a Billy Lenz X GN!Reader or Billy Lenz X Male!Reader and the reader is dominant? I love the way you portrayed him in your works!!!

… this got away from me.. 2.2k words . very minimal proof reading and I wrote it really fast so please forgive any mistakes .. m!insert is friends with one of the sorority girls and is staying over for dinner when the Moaner calls. warning: non-con/dub-con, a little bit of cock slapping, honestly problematic nsfw 

☾⋆⁺₊ billy lenz x dominant m!reader

When your friend tells you about the obscene phone calls, you assume she’s making it out to be worse than it really is. It’s not that you don’t trust her judgement, but you figure there has to be a simpler reason for the calls than some pervert stalker.

You wouldn’t be surprised if it was just a couple of poorly timed wrong-number calls that the girls blew out of proportion the more they talked about it amongst themselves.

You don’t understand the truth of it until you’re the one picking up the phone.

“Pi Kap,” you answer. When there’s no response, you sigh and move the phone to your other ear. “Hello?”

You hear breathing on the other line. Heavy, labored breaths that give you goose bumps. The voice is obviously masculine, so deep and heady that you nearly forget that he’s calling for the girls, not for you. Clearing your throat, you force yourself to focus on reality and not your own weird fantasies.

“Listen here, buddy, you better stop calling this number,” you say sternly, but you’re cut off. 

He moans into the receiver, breaking off into coughs when his voice goes too low. It sounds dirty, like he might be stroking himself off while he’s talking to you.

It’s for the girls, you remind yourself. You should be feeling furious, not jealous.

“I mean it. I’ll call the police,” you threaten.

“Fucking sluts,” the voice mutters, coughing again. His coughs are loud now, sounding almost like grotesque gagging. “Pig sluts. I’ll fuck them before you do.”

“What?” you breath out, shocked by his words.

“Gonna fuck them first. Gonna ruin it for you. Fuck ‘em with my fat cock, bigger than yours. I’m gonna kill you,” he says, muttering everything under his breath. It’s quiet, but just loud enough that you can hear.

“You’re sick,” you hiss into the receiver. He coughs, then licks his lip so loudly you can hear his spit clicking in his mouth.

“Piggy pussies want my juicy fat cock,” the voice hisses back, choking on his spit in the end. Christ, you can’t imagine what kind of degenerate was calling the house like this.

“Go fuck yourself. I’m calling the cops and I’m beating your ass if I ever see you,” you say.

The man starts to talk again, but you hang up on him, not willing to subject yourself to anymore of his ranting.

“Jesus,” you mutter to yourself, just as your friend comes out from the dining room.

“Was that him?” she asks worriedly, brows drawn together. You sigh as you go to her, putting your hands in your pockets.

“I think so. He calls you guys often?” you ask.

“Sometimes once a day. Sometimes more or less,” she says, holding her own hand. You sigh, taking one hand out of your pocket to pat her shoulder.

“I’m calling the station and then I’m spending the night here. I don’t trust that creep after what he said,” you say, letting your hand drop despite how she leant into your touch.

“What’d he say?” 

You shake your head, putting your hand back into your pocket. “I won’t say. But I’ll keep you guys safe,” you promise. She coos at that, pouting like she might cry as she throws her arms around you. You carefuly extract both hands from your pockets and pat her back carefully.

“Thank you, thank you. You’re the bestest friend ever,” she says. You smile and pat her back, but you don’t really feel like a good friend.

Although your friend offers you the other side of her fullsize mattress, you decline her nicely and take a pillow and blanket down to the living room couch.

“It’s to keep an eye on the front door,” you told her, which she accepted with a pout.

Unfortunately, the couch is less comfortable laying down than when you’re sitting on it. You toss and turn for a while before giving up, staring up at the ceiling with wide open eyes.

You mind wanders back to the phone call and the voice on the other line. His voice had gotten to your head, despite his disgusting words, and his moans played on repeat in your mind. You hadn’t heard real male moans like that in a long time, not counting yourself. It put you on edge, despite every rational bone in your body telling you how stupid you were being.

You’re considering a quick jerk off when you hear the last step on the staircase creak.

Freezing, you don’t move as you consider the sound. It could be your girlfriend or one of her housemates, but nearly every step of the staircase creaked; theres no way any of them could climb down those steps without making any other noise. Alternatively, you hadn’t heard the door open, and that thing creaked louder than all the steps combined.

Slowly, you sit up and look over the back of the couch to see a man in a dark sweater standing on the last step. He’s frozen in place, like if he doesn’t move, you won’t realize he was walking down the steps in your girlfriend’s house.

The longer he stays still, the heavier your breath comes. Fuck, is he even real? You rub your eyes with both hands, and then you hear him take the final step off the stairs and into the living room.

A choked off noise leaves your mouth when the stranger tackles you on the couch, both hands reaching for your throat like he wants to strangle you. Luckily, with your hands both up by your face, you’re able to knock his hands away from you, and you realize he’s not a very strong man. You manuver him easily, despite the way he flails his limbs baby deer.

It also certainly helps that you wrestled in high school.

Laying on the floor by the couch, you press his back against your chest, legs hooking around his own to keep him splayed open. Both of his hands come to the arm you keep looped around his neck.

The stranger is breathing heavily, gasping and grunting like an animal. He tries to buck you off of him, but you keep him in his place easily.

“Who the fuck are you?” you hiss in his ear. You’re taken aback when he hisses back, literally, like a cornered cat. You tighten the arm around his neck and feel his nails dig against your forearm.

“Are you the one calling?” you ask instead.

“Rrrrrrring, ring, ring,” the man manages to trill, despite being completely breathless. “Please hold, the next available operator will fuck you momentarily.”

“You fucking pervert,” you say, jostling him. The man moans, trying to free his legs but you don’t let him. Keeping your arm tight around his throat, but not so tight he can’t breath, you let go of your other arm and drop it down to his crotch.

The man’s hip buck immediately, struggling to get you off of him as he lets out a whimper. You don’t let up, feeling how his cock was already half hard in his jeans.

“How do you like that?” you whisper in his ear, continuing the motion with firm and steady strokes. “Is this what you wanted so bad? Fucking pervert freak.”

The man is still whimpering, head tossing back and forth as he mutters a soft, “no,” again and again. Despite his protests, his hands loosen up on your arm, giving less effort to truly break out of your hold.

You tell yourself that you’re just teaching the guy a lesson, but you’re hard too. His body is warm and firm and he smells so masculine, no trace of sweet flowery perfumes or lotions. Your cock presses against his lower back, but you try to ignore it.

“You’re disgusting,” you say instead of focusing on yourself anymore. You can feel the man start to buck his hips into your hand, chasing the pleasure. Feeling cruel, you let go of him and bring your hand down against his cock, reveling in the way he crumples like a can of soda, letting out a pathetic strangled noise.

“You like this, don’t you? How are you this desperate for anyone to touch you?” you ask in his ear. You start to stroke him again, listening to his heavy breathing. “Disgusting.”

“Disgusting Billy,” he whispers, sounding strangled. He suddenly gasps wetly and swallows, like he’s drooling. You grit your teeth as your cock twitches.

“Get up,” you say, rolling him off of you. Your cock bulges in your pants, but you ignore it while you watch him. He stays on the ground, still breathing heavily, and you think you see his hips twitch forward like he’s imagining he’s fucking someone. Suddenly furious, you climb to your feet, towering over him.

“I said get up. On your knees,” you whisper into the dark room. He groans, keeping his head hanging even as he forces himself up. 

He’s kneeling in front of you, and your cock throbs hotly against your tight pants.

“G-gonna fuck ‘em. Fucking sluts,” the man says under his breath. “Pig cunts.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you say, putting a hand in his frizzy mess of hair. Stepping forward, you force his head against your clothed cock. “Feel that? You’re gonna suck it, you fucking pervert. I don’t wanna hear another fucking word out of your mouth.”

The man moans, muffled against your pants. You can feel his mouth against you, wet and hot. His lips press against you, parted. 

Extracting your hand from his hair, you undo your fly and pull your cock out, already leaking precum at your tip.

“Go ahead, you sick little perv. This is what you want, isn’t it?” You let your cock brush against his lips, red and shiny already. “Fuck. You’re so sick.”

The man gags when you finally push your cock past his lips. He doesn’t let you go very far, his gag reflex is so sensitive that pushing in past the tip of his tongue has him coughing and crying.

It hardly matters to you. You fuck his mouth anyways, letting him drool and gag and cough as much as he wants. He looks up at you with wide, watery eyes, and you stare right back into them as you use him like a thing.

When you finally come in his mouth, you pull out and watch him cough and spit it out onto the wood floor under them. He’s gasping and trying to catch his breath between coughs, face flushed and wet with tears.

“Look at you,” you whisper, putting your hand in his hair. “You’re the slut now. Disgusting cock slut. Gonna oink for me, you cock pig? Oink for me,” you taunt. He moans, covering his face with both hands and scrubbing at his tear-stained cheeks.

You almost feel bad for him, but one look down shows you how he presses a hand against his crotch, rocking on his knees to ride his own palm.

“Fuck. Gonna come in your pants?” you ask him cruelly. “Do it. Pervert. You cock pig.”

The man in front of you moans brokenly, falling forward and clutching onto your pants leg with one hand as the other stays between his legs. You can tell when he comes, hand tightening against your jeans as he leans against you completely, hips twitching a few times before falling still again.

You watch the stranger with heaving breaths, more turned on than you’ve ever felt during any of your past encounters with men – usually little more than rushed handjobs in locker rooms or bar bathrooms.

Out of pity, you let the man catch his breath before stepping away from him, and he falls onto the floor between them.

“Clean yourself up,” you say, hiding yourself in your pants again. You sigh when you see the mess of spit and cum on the floor. “I’m gonna get a towel for the mess. You need the bathroom?”

You watch the man shake his head slowly, still not showing his face. Sighing again, you wonder what you could say. Should you call the police, or would he tell them what you both did and get you arrested to?

When you come back with a paper towel, you’re surprised to see that the man is gone; even the bathroom is empty. You figure the man had learned his lesson and crawled back to whatever hole he came from. 

Once the mess was wiped up and tossed into the kitchen trash bin, you lay back down on the couch. Sleep finds you much easier than it did before, and you’re out like a light after a few short minutes.

a/n: reblogs appreciated <33

[12202005]

Editing | Swaggersouls x reader

Words: 3.5K

MATURE CONTENT‼️

Summary: you help Swagger take a break.

Masterlist

Date: 10/6/23

Swagger sat at his desk, editing one of his videos from yesterday, and turned to you when he heard his door open "Hey, what d'ya need?"

“Nothing,” I say as I walk over to him, in only one of his t-shirts and a pair of my panties.

smiled and chuckled, eyes scanning you up and down "Hey, hey, hey. What do you think you're doing?"

“I told you nothing” I kiss him as I sit on his lap “I just thought maybe you wanted a break from editing”

He laughed "You know what? That’s exactly what I need.” He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

I kiss his neck and hit that one spot under his ear.

his breath quickened slightly, and he felt himself getting hard underneath his pants. "What was that for?~," he asked teasingly, rubbing your upper thigh 

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, baby” I sigh and straddle his thighs.

he smiled widely "Oh yeah?" His voice dripped with desire. "You need me?"

“So bad,” I whine out as he grips the fat of my ass.

He groans at my confession, his hips bucking upward as blood rushes to his cock and I moan as his hard cock presses against my pussy.

He smiles, biting his lip as he grinds against you, “Is this what you wanted baby?”

“Yes!” I moan out before he pulls me into a kiss. His hands make their way from my ass to under my shirt and trail up my back until he decides that it is time for it to come off and pulls my shirt over my head.

Swagger groans as he takes in your naked chest, “You’re so sexy, baby. He whispers out before taking your left nipple into his mouth. You throw your arms over his shoulder, fingers gripping the hair at the nape of his neck as you cry out, grinding hard on him. He takes one of his hands and slides it into my underwear, “fuck you’re so wet.” he groans as he slides two thick fingers through my wet lips, collecting slick on his fingers before rubbing my clit.

I cry out as my hip bucks into his hand. “Baby please.” 

"You like that, huh?"  his fingers drag across your hole and he slips a finger inside, slowly moving it in and out “You wanna add another?” 

“Swagger please,” I whine as I grind my hips against his hand. He slides another finger into me and I nearly see stars at the way he’s finger fucking me, “Oh my fucking god” I moan out as he abuses my g-spot, “I’m gonna cum, gonna fucking cum.” 

“That’s it baby, cum on my fingers,” Swagger whispered into my ear feeling my walls clench tightly around his fingers.

Tears fell down my cheeks and a silent scream left me as I came on his fingers. My head is tucked into the crevice between his neck and shoulder as I shake and shiver coming down from my high.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice deeper than before, It sent shivers down my spine.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I responded breathlessly while sliding down to my knees in front of him. “But now it’s time for me to take care of you,” I say as I slide his hard cock out of his shorts, moaning at the sight of it.

“Baby..” he whines as I begin to stroke it, precum pouring from the tip. “Baby please use your mouth…feels like I’m gonna fucking explode.” 

So that’s exactly what I do. I lick his cock from the base to the tip before beginning to suck on it. A groan bounces off the walls as my warm wet mouth envelops the tip of his cock, hands running up and down his inner thighs.

He grabs my hair I let him and guide my head up and down, which eventually turns into his fucking face.

“Jesus Christ…” he trails off as he watches me take his cock down my throat. Tears brimming in my eyes as I gag and choke around his cock, “fuck baby…. I’m gonna cum.” He chokes out breathing heavily as he succumbs to the pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Cum shoots down your throat as he cries out, pulling you off his cock some of his cum getting on your face and tits. “Fuck baby,” he breathes out heavily “That fucking mouth is magical.”

I giggle at his comments while I stand from my kneeling position, legs still weak from my orgasm a couple minutes prior.

“I’m gonna let you get back to it then!” I say with a grin as I waddle over to the corner of the room swagger threw my shirt in and put it back on “I’ll be in my office, come and find me when you’re done.” I say before I leave the room, leaving Swagger flabbergasted. 

“How the fuck did I get so lucky…” he mutters as he tucks his cock back into his shorts before continuing to edit.

The end! This was my second fan fic so pls forgive me if it’s shit.

Pls, share feedback! 

Til next time✌️

[gyllenhaalstories]

presumed innocent episode 8 word vomit <3

i can't believe this is the finale already oh my god i am so stressed and scared this show has giving me a headache!!! i'm not ready to say goodbye to rusty and barbara and raymond and god this show is GOOD. (psst this one got wild so buckle up)

so it is THE fire poker 😭 there's a chip on the handle, i used it to make a fire. RUSTY YOU STUPID MAN. chicago's falling apart criminals are running loose because the chief deputy prosecutor is too busy fucking and eating pussy. well damn.

then the crab rangoon jesus. WHY IS THIS ALWAYS A ONE STEP FORWARD 10 BILLION STEPS BACK 😭 why can’t one thing go right why can’t they just win one thing.

and like … how can there be a beyond a reasonable doubt thing IM DOUBTING EVERYTHING EVERYTHING IS DOUBTFUL 😭

mya having barbara followed OH OKAY OH 👀 then rusty tracking barbara's car oh no one is trusting anybody in this as they should

HE SHOULD ABSOLUTELY NOT CLOSE NOPE OH MY GOD it should be mya, mya should do the closing statement. rusty make one smart decision challenge FAILED

okay after that i just stopped i stopped working thinking breathing

rusty's closing statement was actually good. he had me in tears. and not just because that temple vein looked particularly beautiful but because woah. woah. from a mumbled speech rehearsed in the garage to this? woah.

i still think mya should have done it, i think that after a while, mya should have been first chair. i wish we could have seen how things went with mya leading the counsel. this was a duel between tommy and rusty, a fight of egos, she could have broken that fight up and it would have shaken tommy. the same way nico came into play and switched things up so easily (what a hero... i hate him a little bit less).

but.

FUCK I AM RELIEVED BY THE VERDICT MY MAN IS INNOCENT

i slapped my thigh so hard that my hand still hurts. oop. but oh god the sigh i sighed. i let go of a breath i ABSOLUTELY knew i was holding.

well... wellllllllllllllll

wellllllll

innocent...... that's a big word...................

THE END OF THE EPISODE THE FUCKING END OH MY GOD

THE WAY HE ACCUSED BARBARA, I THOUGHT IT WAS HER TOO THE ENTIRE EPISODE IT SEEMED TOO FOCUSED ON HER I WAS LIKE FINALLY THIS IS THE BUILD UP I WANTED AND I WAS SCARED WE WOULDNT GET BUT OH MY GOD

oh my god

HE COVERED UP he did the opposite of what i thought!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i thought rusty hit carolyn then barbara cleaned up. like she cleaned kyle's bike. trying to copy what she remembered of the bunny davis case she found in rusty's office. similar not identical. BUT. BUT NO IT WAS THE OPPOSITE

i am shaking i'm shaking so much i have a headache i haven't had this much anxiety in ages i gagged i'm so close to throwing up i couldn't even properly cry i was too shocked oh my god

JADEN

JADEN NO JADEN JADEN OH MY GOD

i can officially say that i called carolyn creepy from the first to the last episode because that woman is CREEPY. the "it's your dad who wont leave me :) i can leave him alone :) but it will be hard because our lives will be intertwined i'm pregnant with your dad's baby :)" the way she said it. the way she said it with such boredom. again. BOREDOM. emptiness. as empty as she was every single time rusty declared his love to her. she's bored with him, she doesn't love him, she never loved him and she made a point in him knowing she was so much better than his wife but oh she wanted his baby? like oh my first son? don't care. rusty? don't care. this baby from an affair? still don't care but i'll pretend i do. she has every right to want a strictly sexual relationship but it was obvious that rusty did not want that and he was emotionally involved and it's very weird to me how she's so bored by this. i just... i don't get it. like what rusty says at the end, how someone can just be unaffected and not even wobble. it's so foreign to me and it makes me feel weirddddd.

carolyn could have insisted it was rusty, isn't she what she does too for a living? LIKE RUSTY she persuades she lies she manipulates the truth LIKE RUSTY DOES she could have lied and switched everything on rusty, she could have insisted she's trying soooooo hard to stay away from him and tonight was the last time they fucked but he is not letting gooooo and she wants this to be over she wants this to be over so bad. jaden would have gotten spooked, she would have hesitated. she was going to her house on a mission but it would have shaken her up. she loves her dad, she loves her family and she wanted to protect her family but to be confronted with the "shit maybe my dad is in the wrong" could have made her hesitate just enough. but to break down the "i'm pregnant with your dad's child so i'm family now" right here and there. FUCK NO. FUCK. i'm sorry but no.

i don't want to end my rambling on carolyn. so i'll keep going :)

SO JADEN OH MY GOD JADEN the hugs, she was so scared. the dissociation talk. she was so scared. she was testing the waters. she was so scared.

i can't even blame rusty for thinking it's barbara because this last episode framed her so well. it framed the family. it framed the whole family and i thought that was so beautifully done. it felt very much so as a them vs rusty. in the end it was a them with rusty. aww.

rusty oh my god rusty. how he just ... how he set things up. how he tied her up. how he cleaned everything. how he did everything so no one would trace it back to barbara. they would trace it back to him so he could take the fall and try to catch himself. he did. i didn't even believe he could anymore but he did.

the last few sequences too. they felt like "oh we know you're losing your mind, here's some flowers and a bird to bring you peace teehee".

i hope raymond enjoys his retirement and spends plenty of time gardening with lorraine and i hope they can be happy and do what retired people do and i hope nothing ever stresses them out. i'm so happy for them. raymond i love you.

in the dinner scene, i was actually scared when rusty was the last one to be shown. but wow what a beautiful ending scene. that stare rusty and barbara exchange...

i was so scared they would butcher the finale, especially with the announcement of a second season. could they have dragged this for like 2 years until a new season? MINIMUM? shows take forever these days. it would have felt so underwhelming and disappointing but i also didn't want them to squish everything into the last five minutes. so when the verdict was revealed about halfway through, i was more hopeful.

this show is amazing. this is... this show is absolutely nerve wracking and amazing. i've said it many times before and i'll say it again: what a spectacular cast. the editing, the trailers, the way everything was intertwined... the way they planted seeds constantly and the way the tension was kept through the entire 8 episodes. we only had one kind of filler episode and that was it which is insane.

jake's acting during this entire episode was out of this fucking world, the closing statement, when he broke down everything to barbara but when he cleaned up the scene and tied carolyn almost wailing as he did so OH MY GOD FUCK OH MY GOD. jake put his whole gyllenussy in his acting and it SHOWS. he came into set each day after training like a beast for the UFC fight on a mission to outdo himself every single time. wow. like. his first show too. like? hello? how does one person have so much talent.

now im laughing at all the theories i had oh i am as dumb as rusty

after the NUMEROUS theories i went through and talked about with friends and people on here, i truly hoped and wanted it to be a team work with barbara involved. so on this one aspect, i am disappointed because i absolutely wanted her to be involved. she was in a way. rusty did not cover up the scene to cover up HIS trail, he did it thinking he was protecting barbara. he wanted to protect HER and this is so... fuck this is what i wanted. i wanted him to wake up and boy did he wake up with that scene and how firmly he stood in his ground to insist that he was protecting everyone. protectiveness. the sabich family is all about protection and they carried that through the entire season. this is phenomenal.

i wanted barbara to be involved and i wanted her to get back at rusty for all the pain he caused her and their family. this man is a fucking cheater and liar and he's a complete idiot and i wanted him to realize that. and ruth's acting when rusty breaks down everything that happened, everything he thought that happened. wow. the emotions the reactions. i was scared ruth's talent would have been wasted if she was not the murderer but i don't think it was wasted at all.

jaden? i'm not even mad at her. i don't blame her. i absolutely adored their connection, i loved how kyle was a mama's boy and she was closer to her dad. i know she killed someone but to even consider it shows just how troubled and impacted she was by her father's actions. just the fact she believed so strongly she needed to do something to stop it because nothing else would work. how she drove, cleaned everything, the breakdown afterwards... the poker too? my god. wow. rusty going straight into protection mode, straight into making sure it was his doing. this was just self defence from his actions, she defended herself and her family and her father. she defended her father from himself. he better take her to disneyland and they better wear matching mickey ears.

on a more personal note that nobody cares about, this show has been so special to me in so many ways. similar to road house, i've kept up with it since the beginning and watching the episodes as soon as possible and so much of my time has revolved around that show and thinking about it. i wrote what are objectively my best fics because of it. i have pushed my limited skills to gif the show. and omg i'm so thankful for daphne because i would have absolutely avoided the finale like the plague if she had not been there!!! <3333

it's bittersweet to see it end but it's been such an incredible ride and this is some of jake's best acting work. perhaps the best of all. presumed innocent!!!!!!!!!! i love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

here's a cookie for reading until the end 🍪

[jupiterpiss]

Father!

Father Paul Hill x Fem!OC

Author’s note— This is just an intro to a series I’m coooking up. This does take place some time in the late 1970’s early 80’s.. so keep in mind. Mildred Gunning doesn’t exist sorry folks :(( I got no description cause idk what to say.. anyway enjoy!

Warnings— Mention of pregnancy, vomiting, got some people to proof read but there could be some mistakes (I made this at 1 am), oh and descriptions of a hot priest

She feels like vomiting.

Her stomach churns and twists violently, like the waves that crash not too far from her, the sound tuning into a distant static noise she desperately tries to comfort herself with. Her girls aren’t too far away, running about as high-pitched giggles leave their lips, cheeks rosy and eyes bright as the morning sun as they play.

She’s unsure of what they’re playing, ‘tag’ she supposes, but she can’t pay much mind to it as another wave of nausea rolls through her. Her hands squeeze down harshly onto her thighs, framed bent over as she prepares herself for her breakfast to leave her. Though, it seems quite stubborn.

“Madeline,” she starts, blowing a huffed breath as she tries to compose herself, “Honey,” she tries again, though her calls to her daughter fall upon deaf ears.

Kids, kills them to listen to any sort of authority figure.

She attempts a deep breath but fails, instead gagging and coughing, “Jesus, Maddie-” she tries once more, but doesn’t get to finish her speech. Luckily enough, she gets a loud “yeah?” from her eldest daughter, her small hands pushing back any free strands of hair over her small face.

“Honey, oh je- okay,” she decides trying is useless, and instead remains helpless. She’s sure she’s a sight to behold for all those attending mass this morning, her gagging like a cat with her two little girls running around paying her little mind as they fight each other with sticks. Better then them running around naked and her crying, she supposes. Something her poor mother went through when she was little. Fourth of July wans’t the best time in her household that year.

“Hey? You okay?” A voice calls out, a sweet one. Feminine. She reconzies it as one of her fellow neighbors. Reconzises a flash of black hair and light skin, can guess the rest of the woman’s features that she has engraved into her brain after years of living just two doors down.

She only nods, “Yeah, fine, uh, just gonna’ vomit is all,” she explains, desperate to land a horrible joke that only crashes and burns. Worth the try she supposes.

The neighbors nods slowly, unsure, “okay.. You sure?”

She nods again, “morning sickness, usual pregenat lady stuff, it’s fine.”

They nod, seeming to understand. It wasn’t unusual after all, early trimester meant a one way ticket to the toilet for a few weeks. With that they slowly walk away, going up the steps of mass as they watch her with concern etched in their soft features.

The sun is beaming done on her, seemingly sucking up small amounts of help the breeze brings as she desperately tries to ease the clench of her stomach. She wishes the sun away, hopes a cloud goes over it because what the hell sun? Don’t you see i’m dying here?! It seems the sun, or God, had heard her mindless calls because suddenly the sun is gone, vanished out of air.

She looks to the shadow casted across the grass just above her, expecting to see just dim light but instead sees a figure, a tall one at that. She pays no mind to it, instead giving a small head shake, “it’s okay, I’m okay, just a small dizzy spell,” she explains.

“If being hunched over the grass is ‘okay’, I’m scared to see what is ‘great’”, a low voice jokes, timber and soft. She only laughs, brows rising momentarily before dropping again. She slowly tries to move around, going to face him as she attempts to stand to her full height.

“I’m fine,” she says slowly, trying to reassure the collared man before her (though it’s weak), “It’s okay, just a little morning sickness is all.”

He hums at that. “Seems it.”

“No one ever quite prepares you for the amount of times you’ll be tasting your eggs and bacon when pregnant,” she attempts at another joke, “good to go back for secon-” she cuts herself off as another rush of nausea rolls through her.

“I’m sorry,” she slowly doubles down, setting her hands back on her knees, “ I’m sure mass is about to start, you should go-”

“No, no it’s okay, mass can wait. Much more important matters at play here” he bends down with her, crouching as he hands her a cup of water. A part of her takes note that if he already have a glass of water in hand, he had taken notice of her state much earlier, but she casts the thought aside.

She gulps some down, hoping the liquid would push down her rising early meal, “Thank you.”

He gives a curt nod in return, “‘Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is your power to act.’ Proverbs 3:27. It’s best to make sure you keep hydrated, especially with child.”

“Ah, just a cup of water, but thank you, Father,” she gives a soft smile, slowly trying to straighten out her back from her hunched state

“Think you’ll be okay?” He tilts his head, big brown doe eyes looking up at her in concern, a small frown tugging at his lips. Her brow twitches.

“Mhm,”

He keeps her gaze before slowly going back up to his full height, towering over her like a massive tree, and giving her one last look before looking over to her two little girls. They’ve stopped playing tag now, too focused on ripping grass out of the ground.

“Madeline, Kateylin, go inside please,” he calls out softly, pulling the girl’s attention towards him. They don’t protest nor think twice about listening to the priest, taught to never question a man with such authority before they’re running towards the mass.

He looks over to the pregnant woman again, eyes soft as he holds out a hand, willing her to grab it. She does, giving him an appreciative smile before he brings her along to mass as well, going up the steps slowly as a means to not stir her motion sickness too much.

“You act as if I’m about to burst,” she teases.

“Looked as if you were back there,” he pokes back, canines poking out as he smiles at her and his smile only seems to widen when she gives a soft chuckle.

He leads her to her usual seat in the small church, the same appreciative smile on her soft lips as she looks up at him and takes her seat beside her daughters, with her usual soft expression. The one reserved for him, the same one she held for her husband at one point long ago. That has long passed however, the look is now only for him.

He steps away, going to the front. It’s there he takes a moment to look at everyone in the church, take in the sight of it. For everyone there God has brought in for him to care after, to care for and guide. He looks at the watchful eyes of those who seek the Lord in his own, faces filled with hope and eyes bright.

He looks over to the pregnant woman one more time and it’s then that sun seems to sweep through the windows just perfectly. She’s glowing, he’s sure of it. Whether it’s the sun, the pure love that emits from her or from the child that grows within her, she’s glowing nonetheless. He’s sure that a hallo is around her head, and can almost trace it out with his eyes. A pure angel.

An angel inside the church he helped build, in the town he was helping flourish. The same angel growing his child, that fostered two little girls that surely weren’t his but he was certain to grow into angels just as their mother.

He calms himself then, feels himself too focused on the matter of what’s to come rather than what’s here now.

He takes a deep breath, then begins mass.