#but rough lines and rough flats were all i got to

[coolgoodandfine]

D1 Drawtober prompt: CN Tiefling Barbarian

I'm very glad I rolled a tiefling because I wanted to try that cool scale effect they did in BG3. Unfortunately I didn't get the time to actually futz around and figure out how I wanted to draw it. I still like the design though!

[atrwriting]

shouldn’t have — lumberjack!logan x fem!reader

listen usually i would hate this plotline but like ?? are yall seeing what im seeing ?? feminism exists and is alive and well until we see this man and suddenly we’re all damsels in distress

as always, warnings: reader was in an abusive relationship, logan the savior (i have issues ok), dom logan, bratty reader, choking, slapping, rough p in v sex, swearing, breeding kink tee hee

mdni!!!1!!1!1!1!11!

————

you had been with your boyfriend — well, now ex-boyfriend — for about three months before you had noticed something was wrong. just a few things, you thought. nothing bad. nothing to worry that much about. it felt like he was doing so many things too much; sleeping, drinking, smoking, video games… yelling…

you thought by getting him a job with some men you knew would be fine — that it would solve every problem. why would it not have? he just needs a job, you thought. just something to get him up in the morning… something to give him purpose…

you were wrong — oh, you were so wrong.

at first, everything was fine — up every day, home every night, and only so many hours at the end of the day could be dedicated to all of those bad little habits you hated so, so much. he was drinking, smoking, playing video games so much less — you almost forgot why you were so annoyed and insistent on this new job in the first place.

...until he stopped coming home before midnight.

...until the yelling got worse.

until he got worse.

you almost left him — almost. until, one night — he asked if you could pick him up from the bar after work so he wouldn’t have to wait before he could drive home. you could've squealed you were so relieved, so happy. it seemed like a step in the right direction, and you were hopeful. you thought the kinks were working themselves out, making it so you could finally work out your issues with him. like the good girlfriend you were, you drove to the bar promptly for half past ten and waited in the parking lot for him.

after a few minutes, you sent a text.

a set of ten minutes had passed as you sat there, waiting.

...then another.

...and then another.

you called him, but there was no answer.

no fucking answer.

you ground your teeth when the call was sent to voicemail. voicemail? fucking voicemail? you stared down at the screen like it mocked you — showing you the reflection of your face in the glass like you were some joke, and embarrassment flooded through you.

all you could think about was self-respect — how if you didn't have any respect for yourself, how could your boyfriend respect you? how could anyone respect you?

it brought tears to your eyes, but you blinked them away.

and there went the last straw…

you got out of the car and slammed the door. you were buzzing with anger, shivering like you were cold. anger filled you, but adrenaline was what carried you on its back through the doors of the bar and past its threshold. it was the only friend you had in that moment, and you grasped at its hand — letting it lead you to your doom.

what you didn't expect what form your doom would take.

…your doom came in the form of a hot blonde with legs and cleavage for days.

she laid horizontal across the bar — shot glass in her belly button, line of salt up her abdomen. you watched a man, dirty from the work day, eye the blonde with hunger in his eyes. he wrapped his dry lips around the rim of the shot glass, and threw his head back. almost immediately, he licked the salt trail with a flat, heavy tongue. the blonde above him giggled at the texture of his tongue on her tanned skin — and once he was done, she grasped both sides of his face and pulled him towards her.

that’s when you saw the guy’s face — smiling and drunk — your boyfriend’s face. men around them hollered as he pushed her against the bar top, kissing her hard. all you could do was stare — adrenaline left you high and dry when you needed it most. you were just cold now — cold, lonely, and embarrassed. so embarrassed. so fucking embarrassed.

“you’re his ol’ lady… aren’t you?”

your head cocked to a stool near you, occupied by one of his coworkers. he had a cigar in his mouth as he cocked an eyebrow at you, barely looking at you. his hand was around two fingers of whisky — and it had never looked so tempting.

“was,” you whispered, politely correcting him and locking eyes with him.

“good,” was all he said before he threw back the rest of his whisky and stood from his chair.

you were still in shock, frozen in place. all you could do was watch as the man pushed through the crowd, and stood in front of your boyfriend. you stared at the man's shoulders — covered by thin flannel that would never stand a chance against the muscles underneath. you gulped as he stood toe to toe with your ex-boyfriend, but the man didn't look half as scared as your ex did.

“you’re fired," was all the man said.

everyone around the man, including the blonde and your boyfriend, went silent. jaws were on the floor — no one knew what to do. what could they do? they weren't expecting this — not when the fun had been going on for so long. the man couldn’t have cared less — he waited for a split moment, awaiting any sort of rebuttal from your ex-boyfriend… and that was when your ex noticed you, staring at him. instead of running to you, begging for forgiveness… he started begging the man that had fired him for his job back.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes. of course.

“not happening, bub,” he spat. “now — i’m going to go buy your ex-girlfriend a drink with your last paycheck. ask your buddies for a loan on the tab with the blonde."

and with that, the man turned on his heel back towards you. when he turned, he didn’t bow his head or look at the floor — he looked straight at you. and for the first time that night, you saw what he really looked like — a man. the man radiated masculinity like he was the poster child for the hard working all-american man. worn jeans, work boots, faded flannel… the works. his body was thick with muscle, and impressive sight that was definitely thanks to his job. the years showed on his face — but in a way that was handsome and reliable. life seemed to have chewed him up and spit him out, but he didn’t look the type to go down without a fight.

with a moment or two, he was in front of you. he sat down on the stool, and patted the one next to him — gesturing to you.

“what’re you having, sweetheart?”

you stared up at him with confusion and surprise in your eyes, but a blush across your cheeks. your mouth fell open, stammering — as if you hadn’t been embarrassed enough tonight. your eyes darted to your ex — the intoxication starting to wear away as realization set in. he lost his job, girlfriend, and ego all in a matter of a moment — and you knew how these things ended.

“i think i should —“

“he won’t bother you,” the man responded, gesturing to the bartender for two more drinks.

you took a cautious step back — eyes on your ex who was talking with his work buddies now, eyeing you and the man. the blonde had been discarded, scoffing as she found herself in a similar position as you — chewed up and spit out, but not willing to fight.

you were fumbling for your keys now, anxiety beginning to take over. you were shaking as you took several steps back, not knowing whether to run or start crying was the better answer.

the man who had stood up for you then stood, sighing. he saw your ex walking towards you now, and he rolled his eyes in the way an owner would be annoyed with a dog going back for something they were explicitly told not to. the man drank his whisky, and handed you the other glass.

the man only had a take one step towards your ex before your ex had stopped in his tracks, eyes and mouth wide.

“got all the time in the world, bub,” the man spoke. the man had his fists balled at his sides — and, within an instant, sharp bones almost two feet long had sprung from between his knuckles. the man didn’t wince — but everyone else did. with a cocked head, he then continued, “do you?”

when your ex didn’t move, and the man was satisfied that none of his friends were going to make a move… he turned on his heel and stalked back toward you.

“finish your drink, sweetheart — we’re leaving.”

within five minutes, you had finished your drink before you went outside. there was logan — same bone swords unsheathed, but now stabbing into black tires on a familiar truck. you smiled — now your ex didn’t have a ride home.

“can i give you a lift?” you asked.

few hours later — there you sat with the man, who you now knew as logan. you were on one side of the couch — you curled in the corner on the end, and him in the middle turned towards you. the alcohol was flowing, so you didn’t need a blanket over you to keep warm. now, sat across from logan, both of you appearing to feel the effects of whisky — all you wanted was his warmth.

“good hostess,” he spoke as you refilled his whisky glass.

you blushed. “nothing compared to what you did for me back there — least i can do.”

“i gotta ask —“ he said, taking a sip. “why him?”

you shrugged. “guess i learned the hard way you can’t change someone who doesn’t want to change.”

he looked at you then — almost through you. you wondered if he could see the same ghosts in your eyes that you could see in his.

he shook his head then, chuckling — appearing to want to break the heavy air. “you’re too young for talk like that, doll — won’t allow it.”

you returned his laugh, realizing you were happy for the subject change. “not every man is like you, logan — first one i met that would’ve done what you did.”

he set his glass down then, and you were struck with the realization of how broad his chest and shoulders were. how the fabric of the stretched across his muscles. how heavy the scent of whisky, maple, wood, and cigar smoke hung on his clothes. you stopped staring at him to meet his eyes then, but he was already looking at you.

logan caught you staring. a blush rose to your cheeks.

“there was a time where men i knew would’ve killed to be served whisky by a pretty girl like you,” he spoke, voice gruff. “time where i would’ve.”

you smiled, insecure under his gaze. “you’re easy on the eyes, lo — can’t imagine you had to put much effort into getting with someone you wanted.”

“oh, doll —“ he spoke, leaning in towards you. his face was barely inches from you, and you wanted him to touch you. you wanted those big, calloused hands on your soft skin — wanted it so fucking bad — but he wouldn’t put them on you. not yet. not quite yet. “sweet, pretty things like you? worth all of the effort in the fucking world.”

you felt one of his hands — his large fucking hands — slide down from your knee, to the side of your thigh. he squeezed lightly on the flesh, loving the feeling of your soft skin. you met his eyes then, dark and hungry. he wasn’t hesitating — he was waiting for your approval or disapproval. he wanted you to know he wanted you, but also that you had the final say.

“y’gonna let me show you how a real man’s supposed to treat a woman?” he asked, tucking a hair behind your ear. “hmm, sugar? climb in my lap, and i’ll show you.”

curiosity killed the cat, but not before it found out what the secret was.

logan fell back against the couch — man spreading, hands on the tops of his thighs with his eyes on you. only on you. there was no more of the adrenaline from earlier, no — but there was the confidence from the warm, dark liquid flowing through your veins. it gave you the push you needed, making you throw a leg over his hips, and sit your ass down right over the tent in his jeans.

“that’s a girl, yeah���” he spoke, his hands ran up and down your thighs. his eyes were raking up and down your body in the way that your ex had looked at the blonde, and it only added to your confidence. you wanted to be wanted — and logan made you feel more sexy than your ex ever had. “tell me, sweetheart — when you look at me, what do you see?”

“a man,” you respond, before you can stop yourself.

he raises his brow then — surprised, but not displeased at your answer. “ — yeah? and what makes me a man?”

you thought for a second, as the alcohol clouded your ability to be witty. you couldn’t pinpoint why — you just knew. while you were thinking, almost stammering — you felt his hand snack underneath your skirt and find your lacy panties. you were struck with the sudden realization of how badly you wanted to show him what they looked like, convinced he would like them — but he wouldn’t let you take off your skirt. you eyed him, confused.

“not yet, doll,” he spoke, voice hoarse. his eyes never left yours. “not taking off this skirt — no matter how much i want to — until you know for sure that i deserve to.”

“logan…!” you grumbled, throwing your head back in mock laughter and frustration. “y’gonna make me beg? come on —"

“beg? not tonight, darlin’,” he laughed. you felt one of his fingers prod at your folds through your panties, poking through your lips to find the hidden sensitive parts of you. you sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling — curious and turned on. “but you are gonna tell me everything you’re going to look for in a man from this point on. when i’m satisfied, then i’ll let you cum.”

“didn’t think you liked games,” you breathed, curiosity, pleasure, and anxiety mixing in your blood.

“i don’t,” he said with finality and sincerity. “i teach lessons, sweetheart — and now i’m gonna teach you how a man should treat you."

“yeah?” you breathed, keeping your lips barely centimeters from his. “and how are you going to accomplish that?”

“rock those pretty hips against my hand, baby —“ he spoke, pressing his fingertips against your clothes core. “and tell me types of guys you're goin' to avoid."

you went to question him, confused — but he pulled you right back in. he pressed two finger tips against your panties, creating the most devious fiction against your sensitive bud. you jumped at the feeling, but he kept your hips steady.

“there’s one —“ he chuckled. “didn’t know how to touch you, yeah? so sensitive — ‘s like he never did.”

“he didn’t know how,” you whined, rolling your hips against his fingers and letting your eyes drift close.

“not surprised,” he grunted. “never a good worker either. so, what’re we avoiding next time, sugar, huh? tell me.”

“i don’t know… i don’t…” your mind was warm and fuzzy now, leaving you unable to answer.

he swatted at the flesh of your ass then, causing your hips to jerk and your eyes to open in shock. he looked up at you, unfazed. “you don’t wanna cum, do you? want me to use you just like him — leave that pussy wet and wanting?”

you giggled. “don’t tempt me.”

his hand reached for your throat, an evil smirk on his lips. “you’re a naughty fucking thing.”

you nodded feverishly, loving the grip on your throat. “for you, lo. i’ll avoid lazy men, i promise —“

“you better,” he warned, his eyes looking up at you with hunger. his wingers were rubbing hard against your clit, and you wanted him oh, so badly to dip into the fabric and roll around your clit or supple hole. “another — tell me. now.”

“careless,” you whined, your hips jerking. “i’ll avoid careless men, logan, i promise —“

“fuck that,” he spat, the grip tightening on your throat. “you’re mine, darlin’.”

he threw you down onto the couch then, landing on your back with a thud. he gave up on his own game, and your confidence bloomed within you. to be so sweet, so pretty — to make a man like logan stumble? forget what he was doing, all because he wanted you so bad? to be in between your plump thighs, round lips, and encircles in those pretty arms? your cheeks were burning pink as your gaze came back into focus above you. there stood logan, on his knees on the couch, as he unbuttoned his flannel with an animalistic chase in his eyes. you couldn’t help but put yourself on your elbows, rubbing your thighs together to keep the friction and heat up. but your eyes? oh, your perfect, big eyes? they were on logan’s. they told you everything you needed to know as he tore off his belt.

“you want me to use you, baby?” he asked as he unzipped his belt. “that’s what my girl wants?”

“by you, lo — a real man,” you breathed, stroking his cock and lining his cock up with the entrance of your pussy.

“good fucking girl,” he growled, plunging his cock into your pussy.

his hips snapped against yours, causing you to jump into the arm rest. you held onto the arm rest, your pillow, to keep you steady. logan liked the sight — pretending that you had your hands tied up above your head as your breasts lifted with your arched back, preening upwards just for him. he watched the shivers run up and down your spine, causing your nipples to peak. he watched them hungrily as they bounced for him and only him, wanting to pull both into his mouth and show you just how greedy real men are.

and when he saw you release the grip held by one hand, and watched it travel down the length of your abdomen, with the end goal of your clit — he swatted your hand away, angry. his gaze — it screamed how fucking dare you?

“fuck off with that shit —“ he spat, pushing your hand back down to hold onto the head rest. “this first time, darlin’? i make you cum — and you lie there, and you take it.”

you whined at his words, your big beautiful eyes on his hungry irises. you folded your lip in between your teeth before you curled your hips up to meet his, wrapped your legs around his hips. never had you been treated with such confidence, such ease — but you wanted him to work for it, see how far he could go to prove to you that he was the best. “you promise, old man? you can keep up?”

the air went still then — but your smirk didn’t falter. it should've, you would realize later. you should've been afraid of the man, knowing what he was capable of when someone tested him. the difference was... logan welcomed the spice in you, as long as it was his to silence. logan’s eyes went wild and dark then, realizing the challenge. he held back so much with you, trying to keep the man awake and the beast dormant — but the greedy girl in you just kept knocking.

he flipped you then — forcing you onto all fours. he bent you over the arm rest, your throat in the crook of his elbow. his free hand groped and pulled at the flesh of your ass, letting go only to smack it. smacksmacksmack. his tough and calloused skin would leave marks, you were sure of it — but it only made your pussy wetter. the sounds were pornographic, filling the room and his nose and ears.

“wasn’t much of a brat tamer, was he?” he spat, fucking into your puffy pussy. his grip on your throat wasn’t tight, but it kept you in control. there was no moving, and there definitely wasn’t enough air to mouth off. “nothing sweet about you — just a greedy fucking girl with the neediest fucking pussy. i'll get'ya there, doll — don't worry now."

you held onto his forearm for dear life, trying to keep your balance as you arched your back up into him. you felt your juices leak around around your sopping wet cunt and down both of your thighs and logan’s. the air was thick with your scent and sounds, pricking at logan’s heightened hearing. your whines — oh, your whines, your fucking whines! — were filling his ribcage and warming every part of him that wasn’t touching you. his lips were sucking at your neck, nipping at the skin . he felt the vibrations of your moans against his lips and he had to fight every instinct to sink his teeth into your shoulder, ruining you for everyone else.

“please — please —“ you choked, smacking against the arm rest. he pulled your free arm back behind your back, forcing you to take everything he gave you.

“not stopping until that pussy creams, baby,” he spat into your ear. his hips were relentless against yours, plunging in and out of your wet folds as he kept them tight and controlled for his use. “when that dumb fuck comes back, to get his stuff? i want him to know who’s pussy this is now. that fucked out look on your face? yeah? that’s all that sack of shit is gonna see before i slam the door in his face.”

“fuck, logan —“ you whimpered. “i’m so close. f-feels so good. please, don’t stop —“

“i know, baby, i know….” he moaned. you reached underneath him, grabbing at his heavy sack and rolling his balls with your finger tips. he jumped at the feeling, curious how a fucked out little thing like you still had so much energy to tease. “never ends with you, huh, does it? always wan’ more?”

“cum with me, lo —“ you choked out. “come on — make me feel it.”

he smacked your ass once more, grasping onto the rippling skin. you could feel your tight muscles, like cement — knowing they would be sore in the morning. you rolled his balls in between your fingers, keeping as controlling of a grip on him as he kept on you. his breaths were ragged against your neck, broken and feverish. your eyes were screwed shut, trying to find his lips in the darkness as you fought with and against logan.

“fill my pussy, baby,” you whined, reaching to any part of him you could grab.

when he saw your eyes, most of the begging in them rather than your tone — he couldn't help it. it took over him before he could even realize it was happening. how could he deny you so,ething you wanted so badly? asked for so sweetly? logan came before you did — much to his dismay, but only for a moment. he felt his skin shiver before his hips snapped forward once to meet yours, trapping you against the arm rest. he rutted into you as the walls of your pussy were coated — dressed in his seed, his spend, his claim. you could hear a growl rumble low in his chest, tearing up at the sound of such a big and strong man at his most vulnerable, his most peaceful state — only for you.

when you reached for your clit again — whining and wanting, ready to take advantage of hearing his satisfied moans in your ear — he smacked your hand away. you scoffed at his movement, but he shut you up quickly. his own fingers found the spot, and his fingers felt better than yours. you should’ve known they would, with the way they attacked you through your panties.

“pussy’s filled to the brim, sugar —“ he grunted. “now i wanna feel it shake while you’re full of me.”

he was so tired, but not his muscles — definitely not his muscles, nor his grip. it held you tight and upright — forcing you to take it in your weak, fucked out state.

“you want me to fuck my cum farther into you, darlin’?” he rasped, fighting his exhaustion through gritted teeth. “i’m too deep, aren’t i? i’ll fuck my cum into your womb if i’m not careful… but you'd like that, wouldn't you? dirty little thing..."

his warning was a threat, but your mind was too soft to realize. too pliant, too ready for him. all you could do was stare off into space as he held you close to him. his fingers spun circles around your puffy clit, his still hard cock piercing into you. “so very deep, lo…”

and when he smacked your clit once before continuing the assault, you came. you came harder than you ever had before — alone, or imagining something in your head as someone else fucked you. it was like your primal nature was being ripped from you, wanting to show and present itself to match logan’s — to show logan you were his match, that you were his equal. you bucked your hips back to meet his, letting the tip of his sensitive cock graze your sensitive walls as you screamed his name. it filled the room more than anything had for him — and it was all he would think about in the days to come. this woman, so worthy and so ready for him — only for him, and all for him.

“that’s it, sweetheart. work for it, that’s right…”

and as his seed slipped into your womb, open and ready for him as you came, you felt his lips press hard, sloppy kisses against your jaw. your own mouth was open, cries falling from it.

“my good girl learned her lesson, didn’t she?” he rasped. “don’t matter now, anyway — no one but me is gonna be in your bed. i'll burn his shit later."

———

i need to touch grass - L xoxo lmk what u think

[ozzgin]

OZZ OMG OMG OMG THAT YANDERE PRISON THING OMG OMG OMG

*jitters with excitement*

I NEED MORE AHHHHH IT TICKLED MY BRAIN THE RIGHT AND WRONG WAY AT THE SAME TIME

Like if you're nice they'll just become your dogs and if you're not nice they'll give you a very rough foursome I'm down for either OMG OMG OMG help I have problems

To quote Markiplier: "I'm not a masochist, this is about power"

*drops dead*

*instantly revives*

Ahem, I saw you mention you might come up with small plots, so I'll do the logical thing to try to inspire you:

- clueless darling ask the leaders about their gangs and whatnot. Like nonchalantly. Because they're too nice darling thought it's no big deal lol

- darling subconsciously avoid blonde man (even tho he is my favourite hahah) after seeing him beat up the guy

- darling got drunk (somehow in a prison) and either gets horny (and try to let it out under the blankets forgetting they got roommates)or innocently touchy hugging all three of them and poking their unique features, sitting in their laps and so on. Or better yet, touches/approaches other inmates in front of the roommates...

content: gender neutral reader, alcohol consumption, NSFW below the cut!

Inmates are creative. They will always find a way around the rules, and this time it happened to be a rather clumsy attempt at brewing alcohol. Had this been discovered by a guard, whoever concocted the beverage would've landed in detention.

Instead, it was you who found it, innocently assuming someone must've forgotten their water behind. You gulped down the clear liquid, thirsty after you walk, then promptly grimaced at its unexpected bitterness.

Safe to say you're now quite drunk.

That in itself would already be troublesome enough, but another thing is endangering yours and everyone else's peace: you're in a particularly flirty mood.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The officer's smile drops instantly, and he turns towards the deep voice. One of your criminal roommates glares at the sight with hollow eyes. You were clinging to the officer's arm, a dumb grin plastered on your face. The man in uniform quickly shoves you aside, his features pale and drained.

"It wasn't me who started it," he pleads.

You're quickly picked up by your bunkie, who is still staring at the guard. He won't be leaving this prison alive, that's for sure. Now, however, his priorities lie somewhere else.

The hallway spins as you're being carried away, and you shamelessly cling to your ride, feeling and groping the muscles and tracing along his tattooed skin.

"My God, at least wait until we're back to our cell," he groans with flushed cheeks.

The blonde one is trying to play it cool. Come, now, you're obviously out of it. He needs to be mature and tuck you in, or something along the line.

Easier said than done, especially with a raging boner. You're quick to notice it, and you certainly don't hesitate to point it out, making lewd gestures with your hands as some sort of offer.

"Are you sure you won't regret it tomorrow?"

"Hey now, I'm drunk, not unconscious," you bark between hiccups.

He may have interrogated you further, but the thought of your pretty little mouth struggling to take him in is too much to bear. He's essentially drooling by the time he pats his knee for you to come over.

The pierced one drops you on your bed with a flat expression. Annoyance? A closer look at his pursed lips, and one can tell he's really just struggling to maintain his composure.

"Please, I really need to-"

You hold him back by the arm and bat your eyelashes. In return, he clicks his tongue. Is this some sort of test from above? His beloved Darling is essentially begging to be fingered. Yet, he shouldn't be taking advantage of your state. He shouldn't...

Too late. You gasp at his rough fingers making their way in.

"Alright, don't be too loud," he concludes with a faint smirk.

The masked one gently places you on your bed, then plants himself before you with crossed arms.

"Nonsense. You're drunk."

"I mean it", you repeat yourself.

He does his best to look imposing. Truth be told, his knees weakened from the moment "fuck me" slipped out of your mouth. He gladly would, but he has morals. Well, when it comes to you, anyways.

Your pout seems to suggest this would be a long standoff. He sighs, then pushes you back onto the mattress.

"How about this? I'll take care of it," he explains quietly, his cloth hovering above your groin. "I'll be awaiting your offer again once you're sober."

For now, his tongue will have to do.

[Yandere Prison] | [More Yandere Stories]

[jjunieworld]

Bf soobin fucking you in your bikini after you make him jealous at the beach with one of your old guys friends. (got that thought from lather just a lil bit)

ˋ🧾 ‎⸝⸝⸝ girls in bikinis

hehe lather!soobin my love you’ll always be famous >< once again, everyone say it with me, every body is a bikini body!!! thank you!

𝔀arnings ⦂ nsfw minors dni. mentions of a tan / tan lines, blonde!soobin, unprotected sex, fem!reader, bratty!reader, mean dom!soobin, possessiveness and jealousy, slight sugar daddy!soobin, creampie, name calling, degradation, semi-public sex, exhibitionism

yes yes yes omg anon ilysm (づ￣ ³￣)づ♡ like uber rich playboy!soobin who decides that he wants to treat you and takes you out for a day at the beach after the two of you had gotten close after the whole car wash fucking >< you just couldn’t stay away and say no to him!! besides, who were you to say no to a free beach trip?

so you put on your cutest little bikini, a different one from the one you wore at the car wash charity event, because you just know from the look in his eyes where this is going to go. they way his eyes trail your tan lines and the sheer knitted cover-up you put on… nothing is left to the imagination and you can’t help but smirk to yourself as you once again have him where you want him! (´ω｀*)

and just your luck!!! some of your guy friends are at the beach! isn’t it just the perfect time to introduce your new boy toy hehe? so you strip off the cover-up and let the sun hit your barely covered tits and round ass and grab soobin’s hand to drag him towards the group of boys!

immediately his arm wraps around your waist and pulls you tight to his side, fingers playing with the knot at the side of your bikini bottoms as he tries not to glare daggers at the boys. you pretend you’re none the wiser hehe ^^ pushing yourself away from him and pressing yourself to your friends for casual hugs or as you go into the ocean you let them pick you up and throw you over their shoulders, making sure to push your tits together and finding soobin’s gaze. you can see him progressively get more and more agitated especially with the way your guy friends can’t seem to keep their hands off you! :3

he’s cutting the beach trip short and grabbing your hand, dragging you to the dressing rooms and all you can do is laugh at him. “what’s the matter, binnie? i thought we were having fun!” you pout. he harshly shuts the door behind the two of you and starts pulling down his swim shorts and your smile grows more ><

you sit on the bench with your legs crossed which just seems to agitate him more… “maybe if you would quit acting like a whore we could still have fun. why would you wear that bikini?” he grits out. “doesn’t matter, take that shit off. you wanna have fun? we can have fun.”

standing, you rub your hand up and down his long length as you smile up at him. his breath falters and eyes shut briefly. “i wore it for you! you like it, don’t you? i know my friends like it,” you giggle, ignoring the slickness in your bottoms. soobin runs a hand through his blonde hair.

“fucking brat.” in an instant his pulling at the strings and pulling off your bikini until you’re naked in front of him. he turns you around and bends you over so your hands lay flat on the bench. you hear him scoff at the sight of your glistening pussy between your thighs. “should make you suck my cock in front of them all, see how much they like you then,” soobin spits, pushing his cock inside of you.

you moan out loudly, not caring at the fact that anyone could hear you, at his rough and fast pace. his big hands grip your hips tightly as he pulls you back onto his cock over and over. “should make them see how much of a slut you are for me. look at you, letting me fuck you where anyone could hear. you’re so dirty.”

shrill moans fall from your mouth as soobin’s words make his hips snap faster against yours. he pulls you up so your flush with his chest, a toned arm wrapping around your lower stomach so your ass stays pressed to his hips, offering you no escape from the way he pummels into you. his other hand trails your tan lines and then cups one of your bouncing tits. his head leans into the crook of your neck and he trails kisses down it that makes you shiver. in no time, you’re cumming down his cock, muttering false apologies as your legs shake underneath you.

the sounds emitting from the two of you are obscene, loud and wet, but you didn’t care. soobin’s mouth finds your ear and he chuckles. “you like being a whore, don’t you?” he grunts out and you can feel his cock twitch inside you. you nod, completely dazed.

suddenly there’s knocking at the door and the sound of one of your friend’s voice from behind it. “y/n? what’s taking you so long? you’re gonna miss all the fun!” you gasp, clenching down onto soobin’s cock. he doesn’t bother to stop and you’re sure that your friend can hear everything on the other side.

soobin opens the door so your friend can get the full view of the two of you and how good you’re getting fucked by him. eyes rolled back with tears rolling down your cheeks and cum dripping down your thighs as he continues to slam into your swollen pussy, absolutely ruined. you almost miss the way your friend’s eyes widen to saucers with the low moan soobin let’s out as his cum fills you up and drips out of you. he fucks it back into you.

“she’s busy,” he spits and slams the door in your friend’s face.

[ kipo’s note . . . ] unofficial lather part two??? jumps around and screams at the top of my lungs i need soobin so bad. might’ve gotten a little carried away with this one, i fear… not my fault tho, blame the ovulation! lmao to all my lather fans, i hope you enjoyed!

∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ] all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

[walkingdaryls]

daryl as a lover

headcanons

warnings/content: mostly fluff and a bit of angst and some suggestive themes

• he never saw himself as a gentle man. he hated his rough hands. his impulsive nature. when he couldn’t express his emotions so he’d lash out instead. he hated it all.

• but then there was you. and to you, he was sweet. the first time you told him that, he was silent for twenty minutes and had to go out for a hunt.

• but he was. he’s so sweet with you.

• in alexandria, he waits on the steps of porch of the house you two share every time you come back from a run. every time.

• he acts like he’s just out for a smoke, but he waits for you.

• at first, alexandria overwhelmed him. he couldn’t fathom a reality where things could be normal again. he walks in to the kitchen one night and you’re wearing his t shirt and no pants, freshly showered. humming under your breath, standing over the stove heating up some leftovers. and he can’t believe it. his chest is tight.

• he doesn’t have to say much. he can’t. you hear a soft “hey” from behind you, and there he is. his eyes are slightly glazed over, but before you can say anything, he just kisses you. hard.

• “hey, you. you okay?” you smile softly. food forgotten and you’re looking up at him with wide eyes and you’re more beautiful than ever.

• he just nods without saying anything. he’s smiling just slightly. and he kisses you again.

• daryl is a subtle lover, usually. in public, he will rarely touch you unless it’s a small hand on your back here and there. or maybe holding your hand occasionally. but even when he isn’t touching, he’s still showing you how much he loves you.

• he watches you, all the time. especially when you’re laughing around the bonfire with everyone else and he can’t help but stare.

• you’re the first person he looks at or calls to when he’s found something. the first person he offers to go on runs with. the first person he gives leftovers from his plate to. the first person he’ll offer a cigarette.

• daryl might be subtle, but everyone knew he was in love with you when after a group separation happened due to walkers, you were the person he sprinted to when everyone reunited. he gripped you so tightly in his arms. everyone knew.

• i think we all know that daryl’s love language is acts of service. he always beat himself up about not being able to tell you how much he loves you properly. but when he brings you back a trinket from a hunt, gives you some of his extra food, or ties your shoes for you, he sees your smile and bright eyes. he knows you know he loves you. he gives and gives.

• he gives when you’re back home and you’re all tired and pissy and without saying a word he’s got you flat on your back and his head between your legs, devouring you

• yeah, he gives

• once daryl gets very comfortable down the line, he loves baths with you. he loves how sexy and beautiful you look with your wet hair pushed back, sitting on his lap in the water

• the amount of people daryl has swung at or spit in their faces while defending and protecting you is not normal

• you love it though. like - fuck yeah, he’s yours

• daryl’s tough, yeah. broody as hell. he groans and growls. but one kiss from you on one of his tattoos and he’s melted into a puddle. don’t tell anyone though. the group would never let him hear the end of it. but he loves you.

• you and only you.

[punkshort]

It didn't mean anything

An I Know Who You Are drabble

Thank you anon for this request!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel finds out about your history with Ben for the first time.

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, possessive!joel (might be a bit over the line but i got carried away, sue me), jealous!joel, edging, rough sex but turns soft (bc of course)

WC: 2.1K

A/N: this is a request I had for a series I wrote but I think it could be read on its own.

"Where's my fuckin' glasses?" Joel roared from upstairs.

"Wherever you left them last!" you shouted back from the kitchen. You were tired and just wanted to go to bed but Joel was really starting to piss you off, so you made an excuse to come down to the kitchen to cool off.

It wasn't working.

"I left 'em on my goddamn book where I always leave 'em. You were movin' shit around up here today, you must've done somethin' with 'em," you heard him snap from the depths of your shared bedroom. You rolled your eyes and dug your fingers into the back of a chair to try to ground yourself. You knew his anger was misplaced. It wasn't really about the glasses.

Tonight at dinner you made one little innocuous comment about an old flame, Ben, another resident of Jackson, completely forgetting you hadn't found the chance to tell Joel about him yet, and it was all downhill from there.

Your relationship with Joel was still new. Well, not really.

It was and it wasn't.

This part of your relationship was new. Living together, sharing your lives together, loving each other... all of that was new. The sex was not new.

So maybe it was a little bit your fault for not telling Joel about Ben sooner. But it was the middle of the goddamn apocalypse and things like that didn't really cross your mind anymore. Besides, what you had with Ben didn't mean a thing. It was for comfort and stress relief on both sides, no feelings were involved whatsoever. And if that wasn't enough, Ben was also currently in a loving, committed relationship with your mutual friend, Lisa.

Joel didn't seem to care about any of that. He was still worked up, stomping around upstairs, slamming drawers shut and muttering under his breath.

It was really fucking annoying.

His heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs was the next thing you heard and you braced yourself for more of his attitude. Storming into the kitchen, he pushed things around on the counters as if his glasses could be hidden behind the flour while you stood at the table glaring at him. When he inevitably was unsuccessful, he spun around angrily with his hands on his hips.

"You gonna help me look or you just gonna stand there?"

With your nostrils flared and your jaw clenched, you marched across the kitchen, coming to a halt directly in front of him. Without breaking eye contact, you lifted an arm above his head and plucked his glasses from his hair, then blindly dropped them on the counter.

"Well?"

His eyes shifted to the glasses and back to you as he tried to hide his embarrassment.

"I'm goin' to bed," he muttered, leaving the glasses and heading for the stairs.

You scoffed in disbelief. "What? I don't get a thank you?"

He whipped around and stalked back over to you, his reaction so fast it startled you and had you backing up against the kitchen wall.

"What else should I thank you for? Hm?" he asked lowly, bracketing both arms on the wall on either side of your head. He stared down at you, anger rolling off him in waves, eyes dark and fuming. "Should I thank you for makin' me feel like a fuckin' idiot tonight? For not tellin' me somethin' you know I shoulda known 'bout months ago?"

"I already apologized, Joel! What more do you want from me? You didn't tell me about Angie until-"

"That was different an' you know it!" he yelled, smacking the wall beside you with the flat of his hand. "We weren't together then! You weren't livin' with me, sleepin' in my bed-"

"Goddamnit, Joel! It didn't mean anything!" You were mere inches apart, your hot, angry breath fanned over his face with every word. "I-I never even think about him like that! He was the only fucking guy I knew and I just wanted to get my mind off of the end of the fucking world every now and then!"

"I don't want you seein' him," he said, his tone threatening. "Ever. You pass him in the street, you just keep walkin'. He's on fuckin' fire, it ain't your problem."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" you seethed, but the arousal was already pooling warm between your legs. "You think you can tell me what to do?"

"Yeah, I do," he said through clenched teeth, then grabbed your jaw with one of his big hands. "'Cause you're mine."

You whimpered when his mouth crashed down on yours, teeth and tongues colliding messily as he pulled you off the wall. Your fingers twisted in his flannel, tugging and pushing him this way and that, acting as if you had any fight in you whatsoever.

"Shit," you gasped when his mouth traveled down to your neck and his hand cupped your aching core through your jeans. He applied some pressure with the tip of his fingers, locating your clit with practiced ease, and you tipped your head back with a moan. Your fingers that were once wrestling with the fabric of his shirt were now lost in his hair, holding the back of his head in place so he had no choice but to suck and bite marks across your collarbone.

His fingers were moving fast over the seam of your jeans, rubbing and pinching your sex through the thick denim, dragging you to the precipice just to deny you your orgasm at the last moment by pulling his hand away.

You whined and tugged his hair as hard as you could, trying to make it hurt, but he just chuckled and straightened back up. "Turn around."

Obediently, you swiveled around and braced your hands on the counter, your breath coming in sharp, excited pants as he unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down to your knees, your underwear quickly following.

He dipped one thick finger into your folds from behind and your back instantly arched. You felt his belt digging into the flesh of your ass when he ground his hips against you and brought his mouth to your ear. "You're so fuckin' wet, baby. You like workin' me up like this?"

You bit your lip and closed your eyes when he slid his finger inside your leaking cunt. "Maybe," you whispered, then moaned when he curled his finger inside you, purposely teasing you by not giving you enough. Just as quickly as he gave you his finger, he took it away, leaving you feeling hopelessly empty again.

"I think you do. And I think you need me to remind you why you're in my bed every night 'n not his."

Your thing with Ben ended before you even arrived in Jackson, before you even knew who Joel was, so to imply he was even remotely some type of competition was ridiculous. But when you heard the jingle of his belt and the metallic zip of his jeans being undone, you decided it to point that out another time.

"Fuck!" you cried out when he entered you with one quick thrust. Your arm shot backwards, hand searching for some part of him to hold on to. His hand found yours and laced your fingers together before looping both your arms around your front, holding you close. He was breathing heavily in your ear, giving you a few moments to gather yourself and allow your walls to relax around his girth.

"Fuck," you said again, but this time it was breathier and more at ease. The initial sting was fading with every shaky breath and even though he was driven by jealousy and irrational anger, he didn't want to hurt you. He never wanted to hurt you. At the end of the day, he knew how you felt about him and that was all that mattered, so he gave you as much time as you needed before experimentally rolling his hips. You moaned his name and pushed your ass against him, urging him to continue.

With one of his hands still bonded with yours across your ribs and the other spread wide and flat over the cool counter next to your hip, he bent forward and slammed into you a little rougher, a little harder, until the mixed sounds of your skin slapping together and the lewd wetness from your pussy filled the air.

"He ever fuck you like this? Make you feel as good as I do? Huh?" he groaned into your neck. Your body jolted forward against the edge of the counter with every forceful thrust, knocking the wind out of you but you managed to shake your head and offer a weak no.

You wished you could spread your legs wider but you were restricted by the material bunched around your knees, so instead you arched your back and pushed your ass back against his hips. Again and again, you rocked your hips onto his cock, matching his rhythm as sweat began to collect on the back of your neck and the muscles in your stomach tightened. Joel flattened his tongue against your skin, drinking down your sweat with a deep moan.

"Taste so good, sweetheart. Feel s'good too... fuck - yeah, yeah - keep doin' that."

You whined and tilted your head to the side, searching for his mouth. When you found it, you hungrily slanted your lips together, tongue invading, licking past his teeth while your free hand reached back to splay wide across the side of his face.

You gasped when the tip of his cock brushed against something inside you that made your vision wobble. Your nails raked pathetically against his skin and your walls clenched around him, silently begging for more when words failed you.

"I love you," he whispered, hips still ruthlessly crashing into you, forehead pressed against your hair, hot breath panting in your ear.

"I love you, too," you mumbled back. "S-so deep like this, Joel, fuck," you whimpered, brows pinching together as you struggled for air. Your legs tensed and your eyes flashed wide open, searching for him as you felt yourself near your peak. His eyes were dark and filled with animalistic desire as he laid claim to you in the middle of your kitchen, and even though his jealousy was severely misplaced, it fanned the flames of excitement inside you.

You were his, and he was yours.

The coil snapped and you sobbed his name, body going rigid under his touch but he fucked you through it, to not only prolong your orgasm but to join you, as well.

"Oh, god," he mumbled repeatedly, his thrusts becoming sloppy, his hands flexing and breath growing ragged before pulling out and spilling himself all over your backside with a heavy groan.

Your upper body slumped across the counter, arms spread wide, eyes squeezed shut. Your legs trembled as you fought to remain upright but soon it wouldn't be your concern. Joel grabbed the nearest dish towel and cleaned you up before dragging your underwear and jeans back up, leaving them unbuttoned, before hastily doing the same to his own so he could gently lift you into his arms.

"You okay?"

You hummed and nodded sleepily against his chest. To your surprise, he bent down to scoop you up with one arm under your knees and he carried you to the couch, setting you down carefully and brushing the loose strands of hair from your face. He stayed there with you, quietly kneeling next to the couch, rubbing soothing circles over your arm, your stomach, your hips until you finally opened your eyes with a sigh. His head was resting against his forearm but he lifted it up when he heard you and gave you a little grin. You smiled back and brushed the pad of your thumb over one of his eyebrows, taking in every fine line, scar and freckle over his beautiful face.

"You don't have to be so jealous, you know. There's nothing to worry about."

He snorted and nipped at your thumb. "I know."

You bit your lip and playfully tapped the tip of his nose. "But maybe we can do that again sometime because that was really hot."

He chuckled and pressed his hands into the cushion of the couch so he could stand with a groan, fingers digging into his lower back with a wince. "You're gonna be the death of me one day."

You giggled and forced yourself to stand, not even bothering buttoning your jeans as you headed for the stairs. "You coming?" you asked him over your shoulder. He nodded.

"Lemme lock up and turn the lights off."

You yawned and continued up the steps, a little smirk pulling at your lips when you reached the top, and you paused.

"Don't forget your glasses."

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[rafedaddy01]

“You can take it” || rafe x Barry x reader

Summary: you, Barry, and rafe are all best friends, after a night of partying (snorting coke in Barry’s trailer) the three of you end up having a little too much fun.

This night changed everything, the whole dynamic of your friend group has shifted. But, you have to be honest with yourself, you most definitely enjoyed it.

Genre: dark, rough, smut, lots and lots of smut (I mean just look at the request)

Warnings: smut, threesome, anal, but plug, toys, male receiving oral, language, degrading, name calling, p in v, unprotected sex, mentions of drugs (just barely tho)

Authors note: guys. I just saw that I have a little over 2k followers thank you so much (I’m gonna fucking cry rn)

——————————————————————————

You were at home. Well not physically, but home is where the heart is. And as weird and disturbing as it may sound, your home was in Barry’s trailer with your two best friends, Rafe Cameron and Barry.

You honestly don’t even remember how the three of you became friends.

It was at some party, you were trying to buy coke off some prick who kept flirting with you the whole night and withholding the coke from you until you let him hit, and of course that prick ended up being Rafe. You never let him near you though, you simply pretended to be going in for a kiss and when he was too distracted you reached in his pocket and grabbed the little dime bag and booked it.

Rafe had to admit, you were feisty and he respected that, you were also smart and sneaky. So he introduced you to his dealer, Barry.

And ever since then the three of you have been tighter than tighty whiteys.

“Yo, quick hogging that shit man” Barry snatched the dollar bill from Rafes hand before plopping himself on the empty couch cushion next to you.

“You’ve got a fuckin problem, country club” he laughed and shook his head before leaning down and snorting the white powder.

“My turn” your pretty manicured nails snatched the bill from Barry.

“I don’t have a problem. This shit just helps me relax” both you and Barry watched him pull another rolled up doller bill and a little dime bag out of his back pocket.

Laughing you said, “you’ve got a problem Cameron” before leaning down and taking your final line.

You don’t even know how the next events took place. The only thing you remember was laughing so hard you snorted and then laughing some more as the guys laughed at your snort, and then both your hands landed on the thighs on either side of you, rubbing up and down.

“Mmm, wanna do something wild?” Your words were strung together as you leaned your head back on the couch, “what’s that, princess?” Rafes raspy voice brought your eyes to his and you watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. “Let’s all fuck each other”

And that’s how you ended up on your stomach on Barry’s squeaky trailer bed. Rafe pounding into from behind, and Barry stuffing your mouth from the front.

“Such a good fuckin girl, isn’t she Barry?” Rafe praised you as he moved in and out at a rough pace, his palm coming flat against your ass as he spanked you. “She sure is, country club. Letting us use her like this, such a slut” Barry groaned out, his lips curving and his gold tooth shining in the light.

“What do you say we have some more fun” Rafe spoke behind you. You couldn’t turn your head to see what he was holding because of the grip Barry had on your hair and how far down his cock was in your throat, but you knew it wasn’t good when you saw the wicked look in Barry’s eyes. “Go for it, I want this whore stuffed in all her holes” Barry brought his eyes back down to yours, you looked up at him with a pleading look. “Shh, it’s alright princess. You can take it”

He pet your hair back and wiped the tears from your cheeks as you felt the cold metal pushing between your ass, rafe groaned behind you before you felt his spit fall right onto your tight ring, you felt it drip down and onto your pussy where he was still moving in and out in slower strokes. “Are you gonna be a good girl for us, huh princess? You gonna let us use you in any way, be our little sex doll” rafe slapped your ass and you moaned around Barry’s cock, trying to answer.

“What was that?” Rafe smacked you again and again until Barry pulled his cock out. You turned your head and looked rafe right in the eyes as you whined “please”

“That’s what I like to hear” one last slap to your ass before he pushed the metal plug all the way into your tight ass and his hips sped up.

Your mouth flew out and Barry took it as a chance to shove himself right back in.

You were wasted. High off coke, mind fuzzy, body on fire, your mouth was stuffed and the sounds of both men moaning your name and getting pleasure from your body drove you wild.

You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to come.

Your hand moved down to toy with your clit, moaning louder around Barry, “would you look at that, little slut wants to get off” Barry told rafe. “Should we let her?”

“Not yet” Rafe stopped moving inside you and pulled out, you whined, crying at the empty feeling and desperately rutting against your hand to get any kind of friction. The plug in your ass was removed and that was the last straw, your cheeks had tears streaming down them.

“Shh, come here baby.” Rafe grabbed you and turned you around so you were laying on his chest, straddling his lap. “Why are you crying? Huh?” He grabbed your face and smooshed your cheeks together with one hand as the other wiped away your tears. “You’re the one that wanted this, remember? Begging us to fuck you like a whore”

“I-I just wanna cum, please” you whined like a child, begging for some sort of relief from them.

“And you will” he shushed you, “just when we say you can” and the smile he had on his face was wiped off and replaced with a sadistic smirk.

Your eyes widened as he hugged you against his chest and you felt him slip back inside you as Barry slipped in between your other tight hole, filling you to the brim.

You were so stuffed and full you couldn’t even breathe. Just accepting defeat and laying against Rafes chest as you let them use your body for their pleasure.

It was your idea after all

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover @mema10

[bambiiboop]

Honeypot: Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader 

Summary: Joel fucks hard. You’re a little sore. He takes the phrase “kiss it better” quite literally.

Notes: I don’t know how I got 2 fics written in 72 hours. Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s maladaptive coping mechanisms. No beta, we die like men. (As usual).

CWs: no physical description of reader but all my readers are plus size coded / friendly | reader is AFAB | pet names (darlin, baby, honey) | mentions of PIV sex | oral sex (f!receiving) | allusions to oral sex (m!receiving) | Joel cums untouched oop | big girthy unspecified age gap is alluded to but not mentioned so could feasibly be ignored | dirty talk | explicit content 18+ etc

Warm sunlight streams through the bedroom window, the gap in the curtains allowing for a beam of warmth to hit the bed just so.

You wriggle under the warm sheets, rolling onto your side to bury your face in the solid wall of muscle that is Joel, inhaling the sleep sweat sex smell of him that makes you feel at home.

Really, you’re not too sure what you are. More than just friends with benefits, but not willing to put a label on it just yet. It’s a work in progress.

A big, thick arm wraps around you, tugging you closer. As you move, you wince slightly at the sudden ache between your thighs.

“You alright there, hon’?” His Southern drawl is a low, sweet sound in your sleepy ears.

“Mmhmm,” you inhale his scent again, wriggling when you feel the hot, hard length of him against your stomach. Fuck, he’s so big. No wonder you’re aching.

“You sure?�� His lips brush your throat and you shiver.

“I’m a little sore,” you admit, shy in spite of everything. You’re a little worried that he’ll take offense to it, especially when you know he took such precautions to make it easier for you. He always does. Joel is so careful with you, at least when it comes to making sure you can take him.

“Aw, hell… was I too rough with you?” He pulls away from you ever so slightly, props himself up to look down at you, soft brown eyes concerned as he watches your expression.

“No!” You jump to reassure him, because god, if you hadn’t begged him for it, begged him to be rougher, to go harder, to hold you tighter. “You’re just… really big.”

You feel like an idiot for saying it, feel like an inexperienced fool, even though that isn’t the case. He just has, even though it sounds ridiculous, a huge cock.

Joel shakes his head, and even though you can tell you’ve stroked his ego with the comment, his expression remains concerned.

“Should’ve said something…”

You give him a wry, cheeky smile as he looks down at you.

“Pretty sure I did. Several somethings. And all of them were along the line of ‘give it to me harder’ and ‘don’t stop’ and begging you to fuck me.” You remind him.

Joel laughs, in spite of the pang of guilt he feels, because you’re right. All that came out of your mouth, aside from senseless moans and mewls of pleasure, were pleas for him to keep going, begging for it harder, deeper, faster. His cock twitches against his stomach at the memory.

“‘M sorry, I got carried away.” He chews his lip, caramel eyes softening with regret.

“Aw, Joel, it’s fine,” you tell him, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Besides. If you’re that worried, you can always kiss it better?”

You’re joking mostly, being facetious, because honestly it’s nothing that a couple of days without sex and a nice hot bath won’t fix, but his expression becomes almost devious as you say it.

“Kiss it better, huh?” Joel leans down to kiss you, then gently turns you onto your back, kissing down your throat, down your chest; his hands follow, sliding down your shoulders, across the curve of your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples as he kisses down your stomach, spreading your thighs and settling between them.

“I was jo- oh!” Your sentence is cut short as he nips at your inner thigh, one muscled arm flat across your abdomen as he looks up at you.

“Shh, honey. Gonna kiss it better, just like y’asked…”

Joel is goddamn dominant most of the time. Loves making you weak, loves watching you submit. Loves impact play; he fucking loves it all, but nothing turns him into a mess more than someone who lets him eat their pussy.

Keeping his arm flat across your abdomen, so your thighs are spread for him, he presses the lightest of kisses to your clit, carefully flicking his tongue out in the tiniest of kitten licks, before he groans at the sweet salty taste of you.

“Fuck, sweetest fuckin’ pussy…” he mumbles almost to himself, unconsciously rolling his hips slightly against the silky sheets, getting the tiniest bit of friction against his suddenly throbbing cock.

Fuck, you taste so good; his tongue dips inside you, making you wriggle above him. Still, he manages to hold you in place, moaning into your cunt as he licks and sucks greedily at your folds, taking his time, making sure to be careful.

You whimper, looking down at him; his deep caramel eyes look up at you, expression thoroughly pussy drunk as he nuzzles his nose against your clit. Your head drops back against the pillows, lips parted in a desperate moan.

Joel doesn’t like showing any sort of vulnerability; it’s incredibly difficult for him to try and be soft, be caring. Even though he does care, cares far more than he lets on, he’s afraid that if he shows it, it’s a weakness to be exploited.

Either way, he’ll take this moment for all it’s worth. Take the time to connect with you, to focus entirely on you. He doesn’t even seem to realise that his hips are rolling slightly against the sheets, getting a little bit of friction - not enough, not really - against the aching length of his cock.

He nuzzles your clit again, drawing a lazy circle with his nose as his tongue laps at your slick, drinking you down with zero hesitation or concern for how wet his scruffy beard is getting. All that matters is the way you writhe and moan for him, the way your hands move to tangle in his grown out curls as he keeps your thighs apart with his broad shoulders.

“Joel…”

You draw his name out in an almost loving whine as he drags his tongue lazily through your folds. He wants, so badly, to slip a finger inside you and curl it just so, knowing just the right angle to make you fall apart for him. But he doesn’t, knowing you’re still sore and aching and it most certainly wouldn’t improve the circumstances if he did.

Instead, he keeps on teasing you, sliding his tongue inside you and fucking you with it, waiting until you’re tugging lightly at his curls to withdraw it.

“Taste like honey, baby,” he groans, rolling his hips against the sheets again, feeling the way his cock drips with his own arousal, feels it hot and sticky against his belly as he suckles your clit into his mouth, barely grazing it with his teeth, making you mewl pathetically for him.

“Joel, I’m -” you can’t get the last word out, knowing he gets the point; your cunt tightens around nothing, aching to be filled in spite of still feeling the after effects of the previous night.

He doesn’t answer you verbally, just spreads your thighs wider, gently shaking his head from side to side as he eats your cunt like it’s his last meal, greedily drinking down your slick as it pours onto his eager tongue.

Fuck, he feels good, his skilled mouth sending you over the edge before you even realise it’s happening. Gasping, tugging on his curls, your filthy little moans echo off the walls as you come apart beneath his touch.

Joel groans into your fluttering cunt, feeling your walls pulsing against his tongue, tastes the sweet salty tangy taste of your release, and that’s enough to send him, too.

Before he even realises it, his cock is throbbing, aching, balls tight as he comes entirely untouched, his spend soaking the soft hair on his stomach, the linen sheets, making him groan into you before he turns his head to one side, resting on your thigh as you recover.

Chest still heaving with rapid breaths, you prop yourself up on shaky hands to look down at the sight that is Joel Miller looking up at you with a blissful, pussy drunk expression on his handsome face.

“D-did you just cum from eating me out?” You ask, voice a little hoarse from moaning for him.

Joel gives you a half shrug from his arguably extremely comfortable position.

“‘M sixty years old, darlin’, and your pussy tastes like a goddamn honey pot. Man’s gonna cum.”

You giggle and then smirk.

“Does that mean I get to kiss you better now?”

He groans, clearly appreciative of the idea.

“Fuck. Yes. But not right now, honey. Let me just enjoy this for now, hm?”

You hum your agreement, flop back against the pillows, link your fingers with Joel, and sigh in contentment as the sunlight warms your bare skin.

Yes, you think, you’ll be more than happy for Joel to take you literally any time soon.

[tmwcs]

Little Red Riding Hood - Finale.

Pairings: Jake and fem!y/n

Warnings: Werewolf Jake (should already tell you). Knotting, noncon/subcon smut, cnc (both rough and light), oral (fem receiving), smut, breeding kink, detailed smut, hints of murder, kidnapping yandere love.

Authors note: here we go part two (finale) of RRH. Again this is not proofread but I don’t think that matters. Enjoy!

Taglist: @strxwbloody @nshmrarki @aquariushiiiii @addictedtohobi @nuriicata @lilyuwon

You dropped the picture and quickly made your way back to the car. The driver was still nowhere in sight, which may have been in your favor considering the evidence discovered. You quickly turn the car around, figuring the best and quickest way to notify the authorities was to head back. Pulling up, you park the car in the driveway and rush inside. You picked up the phone and dialed the police, but the line was silent. You frantically dialed a series of numbers before slamming the phone back down. You rushed to the nearest neighbor and knocked on the door and carried over to the windows once you realized that no one was home. House to house, you knocked on every door in sight and still, no one was around–the entire neighborhood was empty. The moment seized you as you realized you were all alone. Discomfort rid you of all your calmness and you run back inside your grandmother's house, praying that she would return any second. You went up the stairs and tried the telephone in the master bedroom, but the line remained dead. “Shit!”

Your tenacity takes over as you continue to try dialing a series of phone numbers hoping that one of them would go through. Just as you were re-dialing your parents home phone, a creak from behind bolts a shiver down your spine. The door behind was opening. Your breaths begin to shutter as the realization hit that you were not alone inside the house. You froze—unable to turn as the rhythm of fear and anxiety stills you. You couldn’t even say a word or scream at this point.

You remained still. Too frightened to even be curious as to who was behind staring at you. “G-grandma?” You trembled, hoping to high hopes that you would get a response in her voice.

Slowly, you pivot on the heel of your foot and simultaneously lower the phone as you come face to face with the man across the room. Somehow, you were in disbelief even with him staring directly at you. Tears begin to form as you feel all sense of hopelessness. You frown hysterically as you watched a smirk appear on that handsome face. “J-Jake?—Wha-what are you doing here?”

A thousand questions riddle in your brain. A few teardrops turned into a river flow of sobs as you bestowed a pleading countenance. The blood curdling scream didn’t escape past your pursed lips until you dropped the phone, which is when he decided to strike at you. His movements were fast—too fast. He moved like a flash of light. Despite his rough handling, you got the hint that he didn’t have any intentions in hurting you—at least not that you could see for now. He shoved you over the old console table that was stationed in front of the large floor mirror propped in the corner of the room. “My poor girl. He gave you such a hard time, didn’t he?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion as he pinned your toned against the flat surface of the table. You turn your head to look back, expressing your bewildered state. You couldn’t even speak. The smile that permanently etched his face caught you off guard as he grinds his pelvis against your rear end. “Don’t worry. Daddy took care of him.”

You panic as you hear his words echo against the bedroom walls. Immediately, you realize his unlawful intentions as he shoves himself against you, reaching around touching you. “S-stop!”

He chuckles at your demand and sucks in your neck. “Tasty. You smell good too.” His leathered gloved hands trail upward and tugs on your dress, ripping it with ease. “Stop! Don’t!”

Reaching around your face, he cups your jaw and turns your face towards his. “You don’t really want me to stop, do you?”

Whether it was that smooth voice or his handsome gaze, somehow you lost your composure to express your displeasure. You froze, and so did your voice. He chuckles once more before sealing your lips in a deep and tender kiss. Breaking contact, his skin brushes against you as he whispers, “nah, didn’t think so.”

The tearing of whatever remained from your dress had you crying, yet his touch and kisses made you moan. You were conflicted between fear, despair, and pleasure. The more he kept doing, the more it had put you in turmoil. Especially when he kept huffing under his breath, telling you things that made your mind travel in circles.

Fuck, you smell so good. Your skin is so smooth. You’re mine. All fucking mine.

By the time he had you completely stripped, with only the small bit of tatters loosely draping your body, you caved in. The way his fingers moved and delicately tapped against your clit made you see stars. He was so good at it, no one could possibly blame you for how you reacted. “Yeah, baby? You fucking like that, hmm? Want me to eat you?” He whispers vigorously against your ear, further causing you to spiral downhill. “My pretty Red Riding Hood…let me take care of you. Fuck. Let me own you.”

Keeping his palm flat against your lower back, he presses down and stabilizes you. You remained still, knowing by his grip and aura that any movement would only result in chaos. Also, you found yourself not wanting to admit it, but you didn’t want to. With the way the tip of his nose trails down your spine and along the curve of your derrière, you found yourself craving more. The moment his nose grazed over your plush lips and exposed clit, your fingernails dig into the table. Your moans grow louder as he presses your cheeks together, keeping your thighs closed before he starts flickering his tongue at your womanhood. “Mmph! Stop! Fuck! Please stop!” You help out. Pleasure hits you like a bolt of lightning as you remain in denial. He doesn’t entertain in responding, instead he continues to emit long strokes of his tongue. The flat surface completely wipes you clean of your juices as he slowly licks from top to bottom, finishing off each swipe with the tip of it playfully digging into your nub. He did it so tenderly and smoothly, it was painful. “P-please!” You help as you slam your hands against the wood surface, yearning for more as he edges you on. The moment that caused your eyes to roll back was when he shoved his nose and mouth against the warm center and snarls. Chuckling deeply against your vulnerable spot made you feel things you never knew existed. “Oh! Oh my God! What are you doing to me—“

He chuckles once more, this time it nearly made you lose balance as your legs trembled. You found it hard to stand even with the support of the table under you. “Please—“

He snarls against your clit once more. “Yeah pretty girl?” His tongue pelts against your clit numerous times. In between he whispers in that accent of his. “Tell me you’ll be mine. Tell me you’ll be loyal.” He finishes off each demand with a squeezing kiss on your wet clit. Your breath hitches as you choke out each moan. “Hmm?” He mumbles while sucking on to your womanhood. Giving in, you nod hysterically as the tear drops fall before you, decorating the mahogany finish.

The sound of his belt unbuckling, his zipper coming undone, and his shirt being discarded had your heartbeat come to a pause. Half naked, his trousers loosely remain on as he brings out the gift of his build. You didn’t see it, even looking at the mirror in front. But the way he dragged it against the lining of your vaginal opening made you well aware that he was large. The tip alone was wider than your wrist. You shivered under his palm as you felt him breaching your entry. “Shh-sh-sh-shh.”

His shushing does nothing to clam you. The second he pokes in, you squirmed with regret. You shout out of how you changed your mind and that you wanted him to stop, but he pays no mind and keeps entering. The friction alone was enough to cause you to faint, but when he found himself half way in he scoffs. “Almost there.”

Your eyes enlarge. How could he still have more length to push in? There was no way you would be able to survive, he was already so deep. You try to push back and do everything you could to escape, but it was no use. With him hunched over your backside, pinning your wrists to the table, he coos you by whispering into your ear as you were forced to take in inch after inch. Finally, with the tip felt in the deepest part of you, he calmly stroked your hair as he guides you to breathe. You pant under the pressure of being stretched and torn open, yet he continues to be calm despite how tight your walls hugged him. “Breathe baby, breathe. That’s it. Aww…that’s my girl.”

You do exactly as he instructed, feeling some sort of relief as he begins to pull out. Yet when he has all but the tip nestled inside you, he jams it back in mercilessly. You scream out as your head jolts up. He keeps you steady as he pinches his grip against your waist and holds you in place as he makes you take in every single thrust. His hips move back and forth, stalling into you. Skin on skin, the slapping movements echo in the room, doing something to your mind as the thought of him doing the most unspeakable matches with the rhythm. It sends a tingle to your core and before you know it, your body responds by aiding him in his resolve. “Yeah that’s it. Get wet for me baby. Makes it easier for me to fuck you.”

He goes in deeper with each thrust, punching a soft spot that causes you to gush. It coats his lengthy muscle, making it more slick as he finds it easier to fuck into you. You pant and moan in satisfaction, yearning for more as he shoved the combined efforts of sweat and squalene back inside you, mixed with his precum. His pace picks up faster and faster, when suddenly he pauses as he buries his cock deep inside. You look up in the mirror, shaking and pitifully murmuring out with a pleading tone. “P-please…not inside…”

His eyes shift from admiring your derrière to staring back at you through the mirror. He laughs handsomely as he notes how beautiful you look in your disheveled state, all within his grasp. “That’s not how this works, pretty girl. I told you…”

He stretches his neck from left to right, squinting his eyes shut as he expresses relief. “You’re mine.” His voice became deeper. His grip becomes tighter. There was shallow wind breezing through yet the windows remained closed. The curtain was open, revealing a full moon that shined against your skin. Dripping from his mouth, large amount of drool stains your backside as you watched through the mirror. Something unruly was happening. Something abominable.

You tried to move away and release yourself from his grasp but the pain of his claws digging into you restrains you. They grew longer and his hair grew shaggy. His face morphs into something unreal as you watched in horror of the final product. He was jet black all around with ears that resembled the devil's horns. They were propped and sitting atop his large head, which resembled a wolf. His stature maintained a humanoid structure, defined by lean muscles and a combination of soft fur and smooth skin. You wiggle in pain as you feel his throbbing member swelling inside you. “Ah! Stop! Let go! What’s happening!?”

A clawed hand shoots up and around, covering your mouth. He suppresses your screams as he begins thrusting. This time, he truly was tearing into you as the shaft became terribly swollen and thick. His tip was even thicker. He picks up the pace and hits your spot multiple times, and your body betrays you once more as you felt yourself gaining pleasure mixed with pain each time he pushes into you. Your screams become prolonged moans as you watched the creature pelt into you from behind through the grand mirror. His eyes never breaking eye contact with you.

He keeps going, compelled to destroy your walls as he squelches his massive length inside. You reach up and pitifully latch onto the monstrous hand that covers your moans. He keeps his hold, gaining leverage as he forces you to raise your head, arch your back, and prop your perky rear in the air—allowing him more access to breed you. You find yourself conflicted once more as the feeling of getting fucked into oblivion takes over and eradicates your better judgement. This monster—this creature…it’s not human. Nothing about him is. Yet you found yourself wanting him to keep going and to do more. You wanted him to do it over and over again.

Watching the creature thrusting into you with the thought of him giving it to you forever sent a burning sense of desire in your core. Your nerves heat up and your muscles tightened. Your womanhood becomes more lubricated each time he thrusts inside and suddenly you yelp out a high pitched moan into his palm as you feel yourself coming undone. With your walls pulsating against his cock, he picks up the pace and goes even faster. The sound of his inhuman form slapping against you only made things more intense as you felt yourself creaming around his circumference. At the very bitter end of your orgasm, you hazily watched under half closed lids as the monster buries himself deep inside you one final time and howls at the full moon. He was cumming inside you.

Panting ferociously with animalistic tendencies, he loosens his stance and leans over you, resting his weight against your backside. He was heavy and dense, but he made sure to not completely release his massive size on you, avoiding breaking your spine. He growls and pants against your ear. Despite being so primitive, his clawed hands cradle over yours as he sniffs and licks your ear. You shutter at the act as it felt no different than a dog. Still, his humanness shows through as he rubs his thumbs over the back of each hand, comforting you. You attempted to move but found yourself stuck. You’re not sure if you were entirely confused, pleased, or mortified, or maybe all of the above. He was swollen and stuck inside you. You couldn’t pull him away.

You realized that the act of breeding-tie was being conducted as his cock continued to deep out his cum deep inside you, swelling itself to remain in to ensure successful breeding. Perhaps it was giving up the fight, but realizing what he was doing didn’t cause you to cry or become mortified. Instead, you laid calmly and continued to take on the beast's pants against your skin. Is this what giving up felt like?

The breeding tie lasted for hours. Finally, after he had returned to his human form, the beast—or rather, Jake, took his clothes and quickly dressed himself. He took your grandmother's sheet and adorned you as if you were a goddess. With inhuman strength, he carried your limp body and stowed you in the backseat of his car. You heard the doors secure as he starts the ignition. You were so tired and lifeless—so work out from the unspeakable act carried out earlier, you didn’t have the energy to even speak. All you could do was look up and watch through the window, the glorious full moon peering form the night sky as he drives off. Occasionally, he reached behind his seat, gently caressing your face. With a soft chuckle, he would whisper “all mine.”

……..

“Where are you going sweetheart?”

You snap your head back, flashing a subtle smile. “Hm? Oh–i’m just going to this interview about the job at the local library. I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

Your dad raises a brow and takes a side glance over at the clock. “This late?”

“Mmhmm.” you respond as you slip on your shoe. “The interviewers gave out time slots, mine is at 4 pm.”

Your dad sighs. Reaching into his pocket, you hear the jingling of the key ring as he tosses them your way. “Take my car.”

You chuckle aloud. “Dad, I’ll be fine. I don’t want to worry about parking.” You attempt to return the keys back, but his insisting tone becomes more assertive as he explains about the recent happenings circulating the media reports. “Take my car–the library is ten miles out. I don't want you taking an uber either.” he looks at you sternly as he pushes your hand away, prohibiting you from giving back the key ring. “You know they still haven’t found that girl, right? The one who disappeared on her way to her grandmother’s house.”

You nod in response. “Yeah I know.”

He gingerly cups your cheek and softens his tone. “Take my car, it will put my mind at ease.”

You smile and nod. “Okay. thank you daddy.”

He wishes you luck as you exit the door. You set the address in the gps and maneuvered out of the long driveway and headed towards the main road, when suddenly your gps pops a notification, alerting you of traffic congesting the main road. Seeing that it would cause a delay, you decided to not risk missing out on the interview. You accept the recommended shortcut and follow the path which takes you on the backroad. Taking it easy, you maintain moderate speed. The overcrowding bush of trees surrounding the road accentuated the narrowness of the road, causing a slight sensation of uneasiness in your chest. At first you figured that you’d soon pierce through to the other side of town, when a heavy fog sets, thick enough to blot out the sunlight. You kept up with the route, figuring it would be best to turn around. Yet the absence of alternative pathways prevented you from doing so. The road became too small for you to do a u-turn without the risk of backing into the ditch that railed both sides of the route. Sticking to the route, you hoped that you would see light, or some other form of manmade feature. However, the deeper you went in, the more you felt yourself going away from modern civilization. There was no farmland, no street lights, buildings or houses–not even a single street sign.

The beeping from the dashboard notifies you of low gas. “Shit!” you whisper under your breath. You could have sworn that the tank was half full when you pulled out of the driveway. Checking your phone, you also noticed that your battery was at low percentage–too low. “What the hell?”

Strange, considering you were sure that the bar read at least forty percent when you left the house. You start to panic as you push through, when finally you see some lighting at a distance. “Oh my God! Finally.”

You pull up at the grand estate. The iron fence was tall and elegantly decorated by the blushing rose vine that was in full bloom. Fortunately the fence remained partially opened– looked to be by accident. Normally you knew better than to trespass so rudely, however, given the circumstance, this constituted an emergency. With no gas and a phone on the verge of dying, you needed help. Perhaps the owners would be understanding.

Your breath pauses as you pull further in and notice the enormous structure of the estate. It could hardly be called a mansion, considering that it resembled the palace of Versailles–both in size and aesthetic appeal. The gardens surrounding were well kept and the statues were pristine. “Wow…” you breathed out as you drove the car up to the front.

You walk up to the large entrance. Could someone possibly live here? You hoped that someone was inside, considering that this looked to be more of an establishment versus a home. The dim lighting gleaming through one of the windows up on what appeared to be the third floor gave you some hope. There wasn’t a doorbell, so you hoped that it was too intruding for using the heavy iron door knocker. It was large, and quite heavy, but you managed to admit three knocks as quietly and gently as possible. A few minutes went by and you wondered if it would be rude to admit three more, when suddenly the latch on the door begins to turn and the clicking sparks your relief.

You watch as the door opens and reveals an older gentleman, dressed elegantly in a suit with no jacket. Just a silk vest with a white button up paired with well pressed trousers. His shoes were of fine leather and shined without any blemish, and his hair neatly combed. “May I help you?”

You gulped at the tranquil tempo of his words as he spoke in a calm voice. “Um yes–I’m sorry to bother but I was wondering if you had a telephone I may use? My car ran out of gas and my phone is out of battery. I also seem to be lost.”

The gentleman, who appeared to be a butler of the estate, raised a brow as he darted his eyes between you and the car. “How did you manage to get here? You must be so far from home.” he questions, developing a concerned look as he waits for you to answer. You were confused, seeing as how you were only on the road for about twenty minutes, not at all too far from your parents house. “No, I live in town. I took a shortcut due to traffic.”

The elder man nodded. “I see.” He lets you in, and paves the way with his steady hand as he displays such courteous manners of respect and elegance. “Come in, please. I’m afraid we do not have a telephone, but you may stay a while to charge your cell-u-lar phone.”

It was no guess as to why this house wouldn’t have a telephone. At first it confused you, yet by the way he nearly spelled out the word “cellular”. If the owners were anything like this man, they were farther away from modernization than you could imagine. At least you were smart enough to have a charger and charging block with you. “Thank you.” you respond.

“Come with me, I’ll take you to a room where you can unwind and charge your phone. I’ll have madam bring you some tea.”

You thank the man. You felt overwhelmed by the sensational service he was providing, considering you weren’t an official guest. Following close by, you admired the grand features of the home. It was incredible. The architecture design was heavy on the traditional European taste, expressing the delicacy of mirrors, gold trimmings, crystal chandeliers, and arched hallways. The floor was made of glossy tile that was adorned by a fresh velvet rug that trailed the entire length of each area. You wanted to inquire more about the place but figured it would be too impeding since you were already intruding unannounced.

He halts abruptly, causing you to nearly bump into him. You were about to ask if everything was alright considering you both stood in the middle of the hallway. “Before we venture further, I must ask you to be as quiet as you can. My master is taking his nap, he must not be woken up. He gets…cranky.”

You chuckle softly, assuming the butler was referring to a child. “I understand. I know how children can be.” you spoke out presumptuously. The butler merely nodded and continued to lead you to a study. It was beautifully lavished with dark mahogany and velvet green accents with leather furnishings. A balcony presented black french doors that remained open to let the warm breeze in. “Wow…” you breathed out.

“There are outlets on each wall, you may use any one you like. Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable, madam will be in with some tea for you. Is there anything else you may need?”

You shake your head. “Oh no–thank you! You’re very nice. I will be fine, as soon as I am able to get a hold of my father I’ll be leaving. I am so sorry to bother you.” He remarks your gratitude with a small smirk. “It is not bothersome at all. It’s been many years since this household has received any guests, your presence is most welcome. Please let me know if there is anything else I can assist you with, and please remember…” he gently opens the door and looks back “about my master.”

You nod and assure that you will refrain from making any noise, and watch as the butler takes his leave.

Your phone starts to charge and you take a moment to look around the study. It was huge. Larger than most living rooms that you would find in common households, or even luxury ones. No doubt about it, this building puts the lifestyle of the rich and famous to shame. As you admired the beautiful wall trimming, you noticed a portrait on the next wall, mounted near the corner and across the magnificent desk. The large photo caught your eye as you closely admire the handsome man featured. Dressed well with beautiful auburn hair, his asiatic features stare deep into your soul as you breathe out. You’re not sure if you ever saw someone more attractive in your life. Since it was only a portrait, you wondered the effect this man would have had you met him in person, considering the photo alone was enough to make you weak in the knees.

You become lost in translation as you continue to stare at the framed piece when suddenly your phone rings loudly. “Shit!” you panicked as you raced across the room to shut off the ringing feature, completely forgetting that it was not on vibrate. It was your father calling. Afraid that the noise of your ringtone had awakened the baby, you answered and spoke quietly into the phone, cautiously looking at the door in hopes that the butler wouldn’t return upset over you waking his “master”.

“Hello? Daddy?” you answer and speak as quietly as you could, partially whispering as you cup around your mouth. Nothing but static on the other end. You peel your face away and look at the screen, only to find that there was no service. There was also no wifi. Great.

The visit to this luxury estate was a waste of time, and you tried to figure out the next step. Perhaps the butler has gas in one of the vehicles? Or maybe he can give you a ride to town?

You played around with your phone, waiting for the butler to return and seeking out a resolve to this predicament, when suddenly the corner of your eye catches on to something bright. It was warm and lightened the entire room. “What….what's that?” your tone expressed an enchanted curiosity as you leaned head in first, taking in the sight of a pedestal table with a large glass bell jar stationed at the center. It looked like a rose. The petals were made of fine crystal, appearing almost like large diamonds as they reflect a blush pink color, while the stem was made of pure gold and piqued its appeal. It dazzled, despite having no outside light to aid its glow.

Distracted by the lonesome ornament, you stood in awe. The bedazzling item had you in a hypnotic state that you remained unaware of the horned beast that lurked from the dark corner, admiring your gaze and posture. Another pretty treasure for him to keep inside a bell jar, or so it would appear. But this story will have to wait, for it is a tale as old as time…

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

Promises. | joel miller x f!reader, 2.2k

Summary: A word escapes your mouth, you think you got the upper hand. You don't. Joel eats your ass to put you right back where you belong.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, pwp, rough sex, dom!joel, sub!reader, established relationship, everything that happens has been previously discussed and is consensual, cursing, size kink, dd/lg kink, brief p in v, (1) spanking, (1) pussy slapping, rimming, tongue fucking, brief v!fingering, cum eating because.. OF COURSE, sentimental joel at the end, as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: I don't know what happened, your honor, I swear! I just- I can't- I don't know what to say, ok? It is what it is.

P.S.: Come on, tell me how bad I am at summaries. I'm fine, it's fine, TOTALLY FINE. 😒😶

Dividers by @strangergraphics & @inklore

“Pull me out.”

Joel’s lips brush against your jawline, his hands cupping your ass, grinding you against his hard-on.

You reach for his restrained erection, pulling down the waistband of his sweatpants. How do you always end up completely naked while he’s still clothed, is still a mystery to you.

You look down at his cock, already angry and leaking. You purse your lips and spit on it, lubricating it more, as you slowly stroke it up and down.  

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”, you confess as you work him. He laughs through his nose bashfully and shakes his head slightly at your compliment.

“You’re so warm and big and hard, daddy.” you add, your eyes fixed on his massive length.

The words slip out of your mouth without a second thought. Your body stiffens over him; you never thought about this before. And he never asked you, either. You close your eyes hoping he didn’t get that. In your dreams. 

He stops the movement of your hips and tilts his head to look at you. “What did you just say?”

His eyes are dark, wild fires of desire dancing across them. But you can’t see that, hidden behind your shame. 

“Uh-” you hesitate, feeling embarrassed, needing to explain yourself. Yeah, he won’t have that. His hand grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to look at him, to repeat your words. You groan at his rough treatment, because this is how you love Joel. Sweet and caring, but also dominant and possessive.

“Say that, again.”

You see the look on his face now, the desperation behind his stern demeanour, and it spurs you on, makes you feel in control.

“I need you inside me, daddy.”

“Again.”

“Please, daddy.” you whine, trying to rub your clit on his erection, but his fists tighten around you even more.

His throbbing cock twitches in your palm, leaking all over your knuckles. 

“Did you like that, daddy?”, you grin at the effect you are having on him.

The time has come to remind you who is really in control here.

He grabs your hips hard and slams his cock into you with all his might.

“Did you like that?”

You can’t answer, your eyes closed and your mouth wide open, you’re paralyzed from the intense sensation of pain and pleasure coursing through your body.

“ANSWER ME.”

“Yeeeeees.” you whimper, boneless in his lap.

“You are not in charge here, little girl. You never were. You do as I say, when I say.”, he commands. Your head is still spinning from the adrenaline rush.

“Answer me when I speak to you.” He emphasises his demand by slapping your asscheek with all his strengh, with the hand he had buried deep inside your cunt earlier. It stings delightfully. 

“Y-yes, daddy.”, you frown, your mind confused by the arousal his humiliation brings, your eyes filled with tears. 

But his face is still filled with hard lines, he’s not done here. 

He pulls you off his cock and pushes you back onto the bed, turning you onto your stomach, completely flat on the mattress. He presses all of his weight over you, his warm body touching every inch of yours. 

“Look what you made me do, little girl.” he growls into your ear as he gently removes your hair.

“Wasted all your delicious juices on your cheek, tryna’ put you in your place. I needed to taste that.” You never know what to say when he talks like that. You pray he won't punish you for your silence. But he doesn't seem to care.

“I guess I’ll have to lick that off you now, won’t I?” Fuck. 

His calloused palm continues to press down on your back, making it clear that you are not to move an inch. He snakes down between your ass, grabs a handful of your cheek and shakes it to watch it jingle. He licks a wide stripe of your still aching skin, collecting the smeared arousal from it.

“Hmmm” you hear him moan at the taste. 

He continues to lick, nip and suck at your skin, moving closer and closer to where your ass meets your thigh and then further inside, close to where you want him most. You arch your back and raise your hips, bending your knees slightly, your legs still completely closed to give him better access.

“Demanding, aren’t we?” he asks rhetorically.

“You’re lucky I’m so goddamn thirsty.” He licks another wide stripe with the flat of his tongue from your center to your tight ring of muscle, leaving your clit untouched. Oh. 

No, that can't be. That was an accident. And then he does it again. He licks into your hole, through your folds, dragging your slick up your asshole. Oh. 

He begins to swirl his tongue slowly, making deliberate circles, moistening the folds around your puckered hole. Ok, he’s eating your ass, it is happening. He flattens his wet muscle against your tight ring, pressing it firmly to feel the weight and texture of it and he licks as if you’re a fucking ice cream. 

His tongue becomes more persistent, aggressive, he’s making out with it now, his lips closing around the tight skin as his wet muscle pushes against your opening. You’re panting at the sensation, strange and new, scary and taboo. Perfect. You start to clench around him, it’s ok baby, I got you and your muscles relax to the assault of his tongue. He feels you become putty in his hands and that makes him wild. Your devotion, your trust, your openness to everything he wants to give you.

He cups your cheeks in such a crushing grip, literally lifting your hips by them, spreading you even wider for him, your skin stretched and aching. Your head is in a haze from the dichotomy of sensations. The pain is almost too much, your skin is red and stinging, almost pinching your heart, but the intense pleasure your asshole receives from his hungry mouth is unbearable. Your cunt is fluttering in a desperate effort to clench around anything and you’re dripping, dripping, dripping. 

“Please..” you mumble into the sheets, not knowing what you’re pleading for exactly. 

He doesn’t answer, lost in his own pleasure. 

“Please.. Daddy, please..” you whimper breathlessly.  

That seems to bring him back to the present. “What is it babygirl? What do you need?” You continue to whimper and wriggle on the sheets.

“What is it? Daddy eating your tight little asshole isn’t enough? You want more?”

“I- I- just- need to come, daddy, please, it’s too much- it hurts.”

“Does it, now? Where does it hurt, little girl?” 

“My- my pussy, please-”

He then bites down hard on your cheek, making you yelp.

“Where. Here?” He prods a finger at your drooling opening. “Here?” He pets softly your swollen bud and you let out a deep moan of relief. 

“Oh, I see. I’m sorry little girl, but it’s not her turn. What is going to happen is I am gonna fuck your tight asshole with my tongue and if you are good for me I’m gonna fuck that little pussy of yours with my fingers. And you’re gonna come like this; am I making myself clear?”

“Yes.” you whisper on the verge of collapsing.

“Yes, what?” he demands, slapping your pussy. 

“Y-yeeees, daddy.”

“That’s my girl, being so good for her daddy.” he mumbles and then continues. “Or maybe… I should fuck this little hole properly-”

“D-ddaddyyy-” your brain short-circuits, anxiety overwhelming your senses.

“What’s the matter, baby girl, daddy’s too big for you?” he chuckles wickedly. “Don’t worry sweetheart,” he coos next to your ear, his stiff length resting between your asscheeks, “I’m not gonna hurt you. The time will come, but not now.”

You relax, even though you already know Joel would never do anything by force.

He begins to grind his hips against your bottom, his leaking cock smearing pre-cum along your folds and ass.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he grunts through his teeth, “it would be so easy, so easy to slam my cock right back into your tight cunt; look at her crying for me, fuuuck.”, he talks incessantly, his hot breath ghosting over your damp skin.

Your eyes roll back at his dirty mouth and you raise your hips more in invitation.

Joel presses his hips down, taming you, easy babygirl. The warmth of his pelvis melts you to the mattress. 

“But daddy promised, didn’t he? Hm?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“That’s it, baby. Those are the only words you need to know.” Joel whispers into the back of your head, kissing your hair. “Daddy’s gonna take care of you now.”

He straddles your closed legs again and lifts you up by your hips, your cheeks already showing the results of his rough treatment, red and sore to the touch. He spreads your puffy folds with his thumbs one last time to look at your begging hole, beautiful, you think you hear him mumbling. 

The tip of his tongue plunges into your soaked cunt, collecting as much of your slick as he can and dragging it up, up, up to your tight ring. He spreads it all around, tonguing your folds, then flicks his tongue up and down and from side to side, driving you mad. You can feel every vertebrae in your back from your tail to the back of your neck due to his ministrations.

His thumbs now slide higher up your cheeks, opening you up even more. He caresses and prods your opening with his nose giving you a whole new sensation and then he fuckin’ spits on it. It’s warm and sexy and dirty and you clench involuntarily. Relax for me, his lips brush against your sensitive skin and as soon as you do, he pushes all the way in, as deep as he can get his slick tongue to go. He starts bobbing his head up and down using the force of his head to fuck you deeper, the squelching sound of the penetration making your swollen clit twitch. His cock is painfully hard, leaking onto your legs beneath him.

You’ve never felt more aroused in your life, the smell of sex in the sheets, the position he’s got you in, the act he’s performing on your- well, his body-, because everything that's yours belongs to him; you've long since surrendered your resistance to those deep brown eyes and those capable hands. Your whole body trembles with his attention, the way he moans into your skin brings you almost to a climax with precision. 

“I- I n-need your cock, daddy, please.” you beg in a trembling voice and he smiles against your aroused flesh. 

“No, baby, you’re right there,” he replies, always in tune with your body and the way it responds to his touch, “you just need a little.. push” and with that he plunges three thick fingers into your cunt and begins to shake them from side to side, creating a sensation of vibration in your soft walls and at your g-spot.

“D-ddddadddyyyy” you drool incoherently into the crumpled sheets, your face pressed against the mattress as you begin to come, both your holes spasming hard around his tongue and fingers. Joel groans deeply through his chest, a pained moan and pulls away to watch your trembling body riding out its high. Your skin in covered in sweat, your back is arched and your cunt and ass are on display, slicked and shiny, clenching through the last waves of your orgasm.

Still straddling your legs, he fists his throbbing cock, guiding its swollen head against your pulsating ring and he pumps himself with his cum-covered fingers, two, three, four times and he comes; thick, hot ropes of his spend sprouting through his slit and onto your asshole, running down your puffy cunt. 

The warmth of his cum on your abused holes creates a new wave of euphoria, the adrenaline making your body shake even more. Joel milks the last drops of his cum, watching as his seed drips from your cunt onto the sheets, as you lie flat and limbless on the bed. He cups your mound, the heel of his palm on your asshole, his fingers on your clit, massaging his creamy release all over your pleasure points. You want to back away and grind on his hand at the same time, a broken sigh escaping you as you bite your lower lip.

Joel enters you with two fingers, fucking some of his cum into you gently and nonchalantly, the thought of his seed being wasted outside your body almost unbearable to him.

“Open.”, he commands and you obey, as you always do. He slips his slick fingers inside your mouth and you immediately suck them clean.

“That’s you and me, darling; that’s what it’s all about. You and me, together.”, he whispers and you bite softly at his fingers as he pulls them away from your warmth, unable to find the right words to say back.

He crushes his body over yours, his semi-hard cock twitching between your asscheeks, his soft belly against the small of your back, his warm and sweaty chest enveloping your upper back, as he cages you between his forearms on either side of your own folded arms. He rests his sweaty forehead between your shoulder blades, regulating his breathing and moaning softly as he exhales against your skin.

“Jesus Christ, baby, that was..”

You don’t answer, you can’t, still panting from the intense orgasm and his crushing weight.

“Shit, I’m crushing you, baby- sorry- let me clea-” he tries to move away, but you cage his forearm between your own hand and your ribs, intertwining your fingers with his.  

“Just a little longer,” you slur sleepily, “just stay a little longer..”

Joel hums obediently; now he’s yours to do with as you please, your turn, pressing one side of his face to your skin, inhaling your mixed scent, his favorite in the whole damn world.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: Haechan x gn!Reader ; Yuta x gn!Reader ; Jaehyun x gn!Reader

| information: 18+ MDNI. Haechan and Jaehyun's happy trails. Yuta's arm pit hair. Licking/kissing body hair. Arm pit kink(?) Blowjobs. Unprotected sex. Rough sex. Creampie(s). Mentions of sex toys, bondage, light impact play (slapping). Mild body worship. Drool. Light dacryphilia. Haechan's more on the subby side for this one. Yuta def the nastiest one, goddamn...

| aurora's note: I'm a ride or die for soft tummy Hyuck.... If you don't agree...... this one's prob not for you... Also, please check out my dynamics page for more info on switch!Haechan, Dom!Yuta, and Daddy!Dom!Jaehyun!

HAECHAN | even before you started dating, hyuck had been shy about his body. he was confident, that wasn't the problem, it was just that he didn't care to show himself off to the rest of the world like some of his other members did. it was their choice to do that. haechan wanted to save himself for whoever he'd fall in love with, because he wanted every bit of him to be theirs. the first time you saw him naked, you were taken aback by him-- he freaked out, thinking that you disliked what you saw, but it was the exact opposite, you were so enamored that you couldn't take your eyes or hands off of him. you started by littering tons of hickies around his neck, collarbones, chest, and even his stomach. oh, fuck, you loved how his stomach tensed the further down you went. he begged you for more... he was so embarrassed when you hesitated around his stomach, admiring it for a moment before you put all your attention on his small happy trail. he shaved it a bit. it was like he appreciated the act of grooming himself, but understood the necessity of having something there too-- and he conformed a bit to the expectations of korean men by keeping some hair. "wait--" he moaned when you laid your tongue flat against the bottom of his happy trail and licked upwards. he shivered. "wait, that's..." but another moan got caught in his throat when you did it again while looking up at him through your lashes. oh, fuck, he was so madly in love with you. no one appreciated every inch of his body the way you did. no one understood him like you did. after that, hyuck wasn't shy after that. the slip ups on stage where his shirt would come up too high and reveal his happy trail, it made him grin to think that you were watching and dreaming of getting to touch him again. when he got more cocky, he began lifting his shirt up to reveal his stomach-- sometimes he regretted it when he'd get home and you'd have him pinned under you for hours on end, draining orgasm after orgasm out of his body. but that didn't stop him from doing it again.

YUTA | the man with no shame whatsoever was yuta nakamoto. that man was willing to try anything and everything with you, and whatever was throwing his way in conversation or in the middle of sex would make him fall more in love with you. "sir, can we try out this new toy i found online?" "yes, darling, i'd love that." and then he'd torture you until you were begging him for mercy, and then some for good measure. nothing seemed to be out of bounds for him, it always came down to what you wanted and what your hard no's were. honestly, even you were a bit shocked when things took a turn one thursday night after he'd come straight home from the airport after being in china for a week. yuta loved to have his hands on you. the second he was through the door, he was leading you towards the bedroom, mumbling things about how he was going to fuck you so hard that you wouldn't be able to walk until you had to go to work on monday-- until then, you were all his. when he had you on the bed, your arms were immediately pinned over your head so that he could show his dominance. it worked. you immediately fell in line for his kisses and the way he fucked his cock in and out of you at a blissfully quick pace. but there was something distracting you. something you usually didn't pay too much attention to. he hadn't shaved in a while-- in fact, in preparation for his solo album, and in protest of his company's grooming expectations, yuta refused to shave his arm pits, and during his week away it seemed he was really letting it show. the tweets. oh, fuck, they were getting to you more than you realized. leaning your head up, you kissed the underside of yuta's arm. he shivered like it tickled, but he didn't stop you from kissing closer and closer until you stopped out of your own shyness. "do it." it wasn't a question, it wasn't a reassurance that it was okay to do, it was a flat out demand from your Dom that you couldn't ignore. so you swallowed your pride then kissed the thick patch of hair in his arm pit. yuta grinned. "dirty thing, aren't you? missed me that much?" you nodded in agreement. yuta continued to fuck you until your legs were shaking and your head was spinning, and he made sure you were stuffed full of his cum. fuck, you really were obsessed with every inch of him, weren't you? and of course he would never let you forget it. any time he wore a sleeveless shirt, yuta would make sure to stretch his arms over his head, or he'd corner you against the wall and put one of his arms next to your head while he leered over you. he loved how you were capable of worshipping every inch of his body. and he loved how embarrassed you got whenever he'd tell you to be dirty again and kiss or lick the patch of hair in his armpits. if you were too shy to do it, he'd grab you roughly, give your cheeks a few light slaps, and tell you to be good for him.

JAEHYUN | he loved to watch you drool. truly. it didn't matter if it happened when he fucked you for so long that you'd gone dumb and couldn't think about anything aside from his thick cock going in and out of your tight hole, or if it were when he fucked your face. you just looked so cute. struggling to take his entire length in your mouth, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, moans gurgling in the back of your throat as you tried to decide if you wanted to fight him off or let him continue to use you. it usually boiled down to the latter. all that drool at the base of his cock, it made jae's eyes cross. oh, but best of all was whenever he'd tip right over the edge finally, so he would grab your hair roughly and force you to take every single inch in your mouth, regardless of how difficult it could be, and your nose would be forced against the prickly texture of his pubes that he loved to show off to fans. after finishing down your throat with a hefty grunt, jaehyun would release you, watching as you gasped for air, drool and cum leaking everywhere. no, no. that wasn't sufficient. you were better than that. "clean up your mess for daddy." you'd obediently begin licking up the cum from his softening cock, his balls, and then when you were sure you'd done a good job, he'd tsk his tongue and force you to lick everything up from his pubic hair. "that's it... you're doing so good... make sure to get every drop." no one would ever know the nasty things he had you do for him, not even when he'd leave you in bed to rest behind closed doors while stylists would swarm the rest of the hotel suite to get him ready for the fashion show where he'd be showing off that same happy trail he had your nose buried in mere hours prior.

[sashisuse]

okay so what we’re not going to do is villainize shoko.

jjk 261 spoilers, thoughts, and a brief analysis of shoko. (and touching on some sashisu stuff. more specifically the sash part.)

i see a lot of people bashing her for not having a reaction to the body swapping plan and that satoru was like ‘i’m mostly surprised shoko didn’t object’ SO. here’s what i’ve got to say.

shoko didn’t object because she was fully under the belief that satoru was going to win. that it wasn’t going to happen. it was literally the worst worst worst WORST case scenario. she had SO MUCH faith in satoru.

let’s rewind back to the shibuya arc. what we knew about shoko at that time regarding her use of cigarettes was that she had quit five years (iirc) prior to those events. her smoking habits literally revolve around satoru’s wellbeing.

mind you this was after she and yaga learned satoru had been sealed. she heard the news and immediately began smoking. why? because shoko is a person who masks her emotions and she does it well. she’s not the type of woman to break down in tears. she’s going to hide it and instead light up a cigarette.

we saw this with her interaction with suguru. she acted very nonchalant about his defection and the massacre he committed on the village and his parents. but when we fast forward ten years and go to jjk0, it’s made abundantly clear that she still cares about him. during the meeting where yaga declares they’re going to kill suguru — i’m pretty sure his words were ‘exorcise the curse that is geto suguru’ or something along those lines — shoko leaves. she flat out walks out. and during the night parade of 100 demons, we have a moment where see the most emotion out of shoko that we have for the majority of the series. she’s angry. she’s hurt. she has these thoughts of something along the lines of like ‘you sure made a mess for us’ regarding suguru. and it’s especially prominent because it’s the first time we’ve ever seen her like this and only time. the closest we get to seeing that again is during the sukuna fight.

she literally cares so much but she’s just emotionally constipated and doesn’t know how to show it 😭 it’s an issue both she and satoru have. they deflect. they mask. they move on and yet the carry it with them somewhere deep inside them.

so we go back forward to satoru and sukuna’s fight. where we do see emotion from shoko but what’s most important to note is the panels she’s in. when they focus on her, she’s either smoking a cigarette, lighting a cigarette up, or we see her surrounded by cigarette butts.

we see her genuinely fearful at this point. she had full confidence that satoru was going to win. that’s why she said ‘do what you want’ and didn’t object. because in her mind, it wouldn’t happen.

it’s very important to remember that sashisu, whether you see it in a romantic or platonic way, was a group that cared so fucking deeply for one another. their bonds were deep. their love for their found family was deep. it’s part of the reason why suguru defected in the end. which i can get it into but not at this time. but at the end of the day, sashisu had ass communication skills and failed to properly understand one another.

and that seems to continue on with the satoshoko side of that, which was left after suguru left. and after he died.

also, it’s really important to remember that shoko is not like satoru and suguru. she’s a healer. that’s it. that’s all she does. she doesn’t get to fight or be on the front lines like they do. she’s the one who gets to wait behind and wait until the damage is done to do her job. she’s been doing this since she was (probably) 15, maybe even younger since we don’t know her backstory. she’s going to be emotionally detached. also, keep in mind this page:

specifically her first piece of dialogue. ‘it’s more like we have to do it.’

and that’s the bottom line.

whew. this was rough. shoko ieiri you will always be loved by me.

[alltheirdamn]

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

*The Oil Change*

Summary: Joel decides to give you a lesson in changing oil... Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4k Warnings: Pre-Outbreak AU, mechanic!Joel, f! masturbation, fingering, squirting, power dynamic shift, submission, overstimulation, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (babydoll, darlin', cowboy), ROUGH sex, creampie, lots of banter, questionable information on how to change oil, joel being the MAN that he is A/N: Just a fun lil drabble about our two favorite people ever... also, I am definitely NOT a qualified mechanic with this story, so pls don't follow these instructions when changing your oil lol unless you want to include a mind-blowing orgasm to the mix

Masterlist | Ko-fi

“Okay, so what now?” You asked, staring at the engine of your car.

It was a quiet Saturday at the shop, and Joel had insisted on teaching you how to change the oil. You were ready to get greased up with the car on a jack and the hood open. Joel leaned over the car, pointing to the oil cap beside the engine. 

“See that? That’s where the oil is. We gotta check the levels first before changin’ it,” he explained.

“So… just unscrew it and look into it?” You sounded like a typical dumb girl in a mechanic shop.

Joel was patient with you, though, and far too eager to teach you the ropes. Untwisting the oil cap, he pulled out a long stick beside it, covered in dark liquid. Holding it on the base of a dirty towel, he presented it to you, pointing at the lines on the bottom of it. 

“S’called a dipstick,” he said. “Those lines on the bottom show your fuel levels. If it’s below that line, means you needa change it. What’s it sayin’, babydoll?”

You inspected the dipstick and saw the oil coating it under the line. So far, so easy. 

“Says I need new oil,” you nodded. 

Joel hummed his approval, putting the dipstick back into its spot and leaving the oil cap open. Rounding the car, he pulled up some sort of flat-rolling device. He nodded his head over to it, wordlessly instructing you to follow him. He put it at the side of your car, moving it back and forth to show you how it worked.

“This’ll help you get under the car. S’called a creeper. You just lay down on it and slide under. Think you can do it or want to watch me work?”

You contemplated it, knowing you had seen him on it plenty of other times. You spent countless afternoons watching him lying on the underside of a vehicle, with his thighs flexing under his jeans and his shirt riding up to expose his lower stomach. He always had a particular look when he came back out from under the cars, his hair disheveled and a stupid grin plastered on his face. For such a simple job, Joel sure did love it. 

“I can do it,” you decided. “You can’t be the only one getting all greased up and dirty.”

Joel smirked at you, his hand coming to palm your ass. Leaning into his touch, you pecked him on the cheek and lowered yourself onto the creeper. Staring up at him, you gave him a questioning look as if to ask what now? Pressing his word boot against your shoe, he slid you under the car slowly, your view of him being replaced by the underside of your car. Everything looked just as confusing as it did under the hood. Joel pushed an empty metal pan under with you, along with a wrench and a towel. 

“Alright, babydoll,” he said, his voice closer as he crouched down. “This is where it’ll get messy. Just listen to my instructions, and you’ll be fine.”

“I’m trusting you with my life,” you grumbled. “Don’t let me get covered in oil down here, cowboy.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, babydoll. Now, take a look up and find the drain plug. Should look like a lil’ metal screw. You got it?”

Your eyes scanned upwards, straining until you settled on the screw. You grabbed the wrench and lined it up with the screw. 

“I just unscrew it?” you hollered. 

“Wait! Hold on, babydoll!” Joel called out. 

You heard shuffling beside the car and suddenly felt his shadow beside you. He squeezed his way under the car with you; his body angled sideways to get a view of the drain plug. You glanced over at his face, giving him a soft smile. He had that look of focus cresting over his features, his lips pursed, and forehead scrunched together. It was cute seeing him take this so seriously.  

“Alright, alright,” he exhaled. “The oil s’gonna come out fast, so be ready for it. Try movin’ your body my way so you don’t get it all over ya’.”

“You make this sound so dirty,” you laughed. 

“It is dirty,” he said pointedly. “Get that pretty lil’ mind outta the gutter.”

“Or what?” you questioned, shuffling your body against the creep. You leaned into his broad frame, feeling his chest press against your back.

“Focus,” he growled. Despite his irritation, you could feel him harden against you. 

“Okay, okay,” you relented. 

Reaching up, you used the wrench to loosen the screw, utterly oblivious to the chaos that was about to transpire. The screw shot out onto the metal pan with a thud, followed by a heavy stream of oil splashing against the empty pan. Thick, black oil splattered onto your cheek and neck, the warmth of it staining your skin. You yelped at the contact, rolling off the creeper and falling into Joel’s open arms. His chest shook with laughter as he hauled you further from the oil, still steadily draining out. 

“I warned ya’,” he said. “It’s messy.”

“You didn’t tell me I’d get hit with the oil!” you yelled, jabbing him with your elbow, which only sent him into another fit of laughter. “It’s not funny!”

“S’kinda funny,” he chuckled. “I’ll get you all cleaned up after, don’t worry.”

“You fucking better,” you grumbled.

You watched the oil finally finish draining, a slow drip falling into the filled pan. Joel shimmied out from under the car, whispering in your ear to stay put. He came back a moment later, reaching down to hand you some sort of metal canister. Turning it in your hand, you read the label and saw OIL FILTER plastered on the side. 

“Now we gotta change the oil filter,” Joel explained. “First, y’gotta get the old one out, then we can replace it.”

“Why don’t you do the rest? I’m already messy enough.”

“Oh, so you can talk dirty, but I can’t, huh?” He teased, squeezing your calf as it stuck out under the car.

“Oh, shut up!”

Joel bent down to lay under the car with you again, tilting his head to look at the oil filter. His hand twisted the old canister until another glob of oil fell into the pan, smearing over your t-shirt. The oil leaked down his hand, covering the straps and face of his watch and coloring his tan skin. 

“Jesus Christ, Joel!” 

“Why don’t ya’ save that hootin’ and hollerin’ for after the oil change,” he quipped. “I’ll make sure ya’ say that again, just in a different way.”

You glanced at him, welcomed by an overdramatic wink on his handsome face. He nudged you with your elbow, turning your focus back to the oil change. Guiding your hand up to the empty space, he helped you install the new filter, both of your hands working in tandem as you twisted it back into place.

“There ya’ go, babydoll. Good job.”

“Joel,” you warned. “If you keep talking in my ear like that, I’m going to smack the shit outta you.”

“I reckon you’d rather fuck me,” he whispered in your ear.

Joel shuffled out from under the car, leaving the space vacant around you. You managed to get your body back onto the surface of the creeper, propping your knees up to help propel you forward and out, but as you did, an oil-slicked hand grabbed your ankle. You yelped at the contact, your body lurching from under the car and back into the sun-drenched garage. Joel stood over you with a coy grin and a stiffness in his jeans you were all too familiar with. 

You cocked an eyebrow at him, an unspoken warning to him about what he was thinking. You were covered in oil and felt absolutely disgusting… he was not touching you.

“Don’t you even think about it,” you warned, sitting up on the creeper. It rolled back against the car, hitting the side door with a soft thud. 

Joel stalked forward, crouching to meet you at eye level. He had those stupid fucking puppy dog eyes, and his bottom lip was pushed out and extra pouty. He was undeniably cute, but you wouldn’t cave. 

“We got ten minutes to kill ‘til we can recheck the levels,” he insisted.

“Ten minutes? You won’t even last two, cowboy.”

That did him in.

Pulling the edge of the creeper forward, Joel came down to eye level, a flash of intensity cresting over his brown eyes. His hand brushed over your neck, tugging at your ponytail.

“Says you, babydoll. I’ll have you coverin’ the floor in your juices in less than a minute,” he argued.

Your mouth fell open, both shocked and a bit turned on. He wasn’t wrong, but you were determined to prove him wrong. Arching your body forward, your hands gripped the collar of his flannel, hauling him into a long kiss. His tongue brushed over your bottom lip, making you moan helplessly. Damn this man and his ability to make you submissive and pliable.

“Do you think you’re that good?” you taunted, working your mouth down to nip at the patchy beard covering his jaw.

Joel’s hand untangled from your hair and moved to your neck, squeezing your throat gently—a warning. He held you steady as he met your eyes with a fierce look, his eyes nearly black.

“Do you need a reminder, darlin’? ‘Cause I ain’t afraid to teach you a lesson.”

“You’re already teaching me a lesson,” you reminded him, with a touch of sassiness in your voice. “A lesson in changing oil.”

“Keep it up, babydoll. Y’know I love it when you’re a brat. Means I get to fuck it right out of ya’.”

“And I give you full permission to fuck me later. Right now, oil change,” you emphasized.

He huffed a loud groan, rolling his eyes and straightening to his full height. Offering a hand, Joel helped you stand back up, pecking you on the cheek before leading you back to the open hood of the car. 

“When the oil’s settled, we’ll check the dipstick again to make sure the filters workin’,” he explained.

“Sounds easy enough. And that’s it?” You asked.

“Yup. All good after that, babydoll. We just gotta kill them ten minutes.” He gave you a side eye, insinuating what you both could be doing.

“I’m sure you can make yourself busy,” you smiled, blissfully aware of how much you were killing him.

“Rather be busy makin’ you scream my name,” he grumbled, inspecting your car's engine.

“Aw, is my man pouting?” You teased, rounding the edge of the hood to hug him from behind. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder blade, working your grease-covered hands over the buttons of his flannel. Your fingers danced over each one, toying with them just to elicit his response. 

“You’re killing me, babydoll,” Joel groaned. 

“Am I?” You asked innocently. Your hands trailed down his stomach, inching closer to his belt. 

Joel’s hand shot forward, his thick fingers wrapping around your wrist. You gasped as they tightened around your skin, his arm twisting until he maneuvered you around to stand in front of him. Your ass hit the edge of the bumper at the exact moment his hands came up to pull your face to his. His lips crashed onto yours, his tongue seeking yours as he forced your mouth open wider. A desperate whimper escaped your mouth, only making his movements more intense and all-consuming. Your teeth dug into the plush skin of his bottom lip, tugging gently as he broke away. 

“I’m beggin’ you, babydoll. Please let me fill that pretty pussy, I’m about to lose my damn mind.”

You smirked, folding your arms over your chest. His eyes were saucers; his pupils lost amidst the brown in his irises. Despite the afternoon sun still flecking across the corners of the garage, shadows danced over his features, emphasizing the hungry look he was giving you. You knew it would be easy to cave into his needs—you wanted to—but maybe, just maybe, you’d enjoy seeing him work for it. 

“You wanna beg for it, cowboy?” You asked. “Let me see it.”

Joel’s mouth parted, words failing him as he studied your posture and dominant voice. You lifted your chin, trying to level him with a heavy stare even with the inches of height he had over you. 

“Well?” You questioned. 

“Whatcha want, darlin’? Y’wanna see me on my knees?” He suggested, shifting slightly. 

Your eyes flicked down to the bulge in his jeans, watching it strain against the zipper the longer you stared. Your tongue darted out, rolling over your bottom lip before you bit into it. Joel let out an impatient groan before sinking to his knees before you. Now, the eye contact shifted, your height imposing over his. Seeing his eyes strain upwards to look at you gave you a new sense of control. You liked it.

“Is this what ya’ wanted?” His voice dropped an octave. 

“I don’t hear any begging,” you shrugged. 

Joel clasped his hands together, holding them in front of his chest, as he met your eyes with a pleading stare. His kiss-swollen lips pushed out into a pout, and his voice was agonizingly desperate as he spoke.

“Please, babydoll,” he begged. “I’m dyin’ to see you ruin the floors of this damn garage. Fuckin’ desperate to make you cum all over my cock, please.”

“I like you begging,” you mused. “You’re so handsome on your knees.”

Joel groaned, letting his head fall against your thighs. Running his hands up your jeans, his fingers worked towards your zipper, which you quickly swatted away. Carding your hand through the sweaty curls atop his head, you yanked them back to force his eyes on you again.

“Do you want to see me cum?” You questioned. 

Joel nodded pathetically, his thick neck straining the longer he looked up at you. You noted the outline of his veins under his sun-kissed skin and how his throat bobbed with each word you spoke. 

“Fuck, babydoll. Yes. Please, I want it s’bad,” he pleaded.

“Then be a good boy and watch,” you commanded.

Arousal flooded through your veins as you unzipped your jeans, shimming them down your hips and thighs before discarding them somewhere amidst the mess of the workspace. Standing before him in only a tiny lace thong, you watched as Joel wordlessly tracked your movements, his eyes zeroed in on the apparent slickness between your thighs. You had done such a good job of restraining yourself earlier to saying no, but how could you deny a man on his knees? 

“No touching,” you ordered. “You’re only allowed to watch.”

Hooking your thumbs under the band of your underwear, you let them slowly fall to the ground, your legs stepping out of them as you adjusted yourself against the bumper of the car. Pressing your ass against the cold metal frame, you lifted one leg to rest on top of the bumper; your foot pressed down as you shifted your weight to support your body. Joel obediently watched, his hands resting on his thighs as ordered. 

You moved your hand down your abdomen, your fingers drifting lower as you teased your wet folds. Joel watched with rapt attention, his eyes never leaving the sight of your hand. You made small circles over your clit, the brush of your fingers against it electrifying your nerves. Unrefined pleasure coursed through you as your movements intensified, your hips rolling against your hand as you chased your orgasm. Joel let out a strangled groan, and your eyes snapped to him, only to catch his hand palming over his cock beneath his jeans.

“No,” you said firmly. “You can’t touch yourself yet.”

“Babydoll,” he whined. “S’fuckin’ killin’ me.”

You leveled him with a heavy stare, pushing two fingers inside your aching cunt with a cry of pleasure falling off your lips. You wanted to see him work for it and see how long he’d last without snapping. With two fingers curling deep inside you, you brought your other hand into the mix, drawing those same lazy circles over your clit until you felt that white-hot pressure building inside your core. Joel still hadn’t moved an inch; every muscle in his body tensed as he watched helplessly. You curled your fingers harder, pulling more soft sounds from your mouth as you teetered on the edge of release.

“Joel,” you panted. “I—I need your fucking mouth.”

There was no hesitation.

He crawled to you, replacing the fingers on your clit with his mouth, his tongue stroking the aching bud with fervor. Each flick and drag of his tongue was another shockwave through your nerves, pushing you closer and closer until you were crying out into the space around you. With one large hand gripping the back of your thigh, Joel pressed his tongue harder against your clit until you were crashing over the edge. You came with his name falling off of your tongue, your wet arousal dripping down the bridge of his nose as he pushed his face further into you. Joel wrapped his fingers around your wrist, pulling your fingers from your wet entrance, and sucked them into his mouth. Your eyes connected as he stared up at you, his tongue gliding up each finger as if he were a starved man. 

Fuck control, and fuck the oil change; you needed him. Now. 

“Take me, cowboy,” you pleaded. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Y’gonna regret sayin’ that,” he warned, hauling himself to his feet. 

Joel’s arms wrapped around the back of your knees, throwing you over his shoulder. You yelped at the sudden movement, your hands bracing against his lower back. The garage became a blur as he moved past the cars and mess of tools on the ground. Maneuvering you onto the workbench, Joel guided you back until you were flush with the wooden bench, his body hovering over you. His hands moved swiftly on his belt buckle, letting his cock spring free as he hauled your legs over his shoulders. 

“Don’t get grease all over me,” you said. “Keep your filthy hands to yourself, cowboy.”

“Oh, don’t worry, m’gonna make a fuckin’ mess of you,” Joel smirked and lined his cock up with your entrance. 

He drove into you with such force your body shifted upwards on the bench, your skin digging into the wood as you tried to adjust to his size. No matter how many times Joel fucked you, you were always breathless when he filled you with every inch of his cock. He had you bent in half in this position, his hands braced behind you on the bench, and your legs folded over his shoulders. The strength behind each thrust was brutal, and you cried out with each snap of his hips against yours. 

“Did ya’ enjoy teasin’ me, babydoll?” He grunted. “You like seein’ me on my knees beggin’ for this pussy?”

“Yes!” You wailed, tears forming in your eyes. 

“Gonna make you fuckin’ beg for my cum, darlin’. Let’s fuckin’ hear it. Scream for me.”

Joel fucked you with abandon until you were a crying mess. Your hands wound around his neck, nails digging into his skin just for stability. The flutter of your cunt around him sucked him in further, plunging his cock at a deeper angle that catapulted you right to the precipice of release. He knows it, too. If you thought his pace was brutal before—this was violent. He was claiming you in every single buck of his hips, and you steal a glance upwards to see his face twisted up in determination. 

Your voice was becoming hoarse from screaming his name; the void of the garage filled with the sounds of your cries and the disgusting slap of his hips against your slick cunt. Every muscle in your legs tensed and shook as you tried to quell the desperate need for release. You couldn’t hold it much longer; his cock was rubbing against that perfect spot inside you. 

“I can feel that pussy clenchin’ my cock, babydoll,” Joel whispered, lowering his mouth to your ear. “Don’t fuckin’ cum yet. Not ‘til I tell you.”

“Joel, I—I can’t wait,” you sobbed. “Please, I need it.”

“Be a good girl for me,” he growled. “You can do it.”

Your chest heaved with another sob, the tears overflowing as your cunt clenched harder. You were using every ounce of your energy to hold your orgasm at bay, to force your body to wait until he gave you that release. His greased fingers found your overly sensitive clit, pressing right against the bud and alighting the nerves inside you. Your back arched off the bench as you stifled another scream of pleasure. 

“Look at you,” he taunted. “So fuckin’ desperate now, huh? Teased me all day, and now y’wanna cum so bad? Alright, babydoll, cum for me.”

The world fizzled out as your orgasm wracked through your body, lurching you upwards into his arms as you clung to him with shaking limbs. A stream of liquid poured from your pulsating cunt, a ripple of pleasure folding over your nerves and tumbling you into oblivion. Joel’s body tensed under you as he filled you with his release, hot ropes painting the inside of your cunt. Another wave of arousal tore through you, drenching the bench beneath you and dripping onto the floor. Even amidst the haze of your orgasm, you could hear Joel chuckling softly.

“Told you I’d have ya’ drenchin’ the ground.”

“Shut. Up.” You panted. 

“Mhmm,” he hummed, kissing your tear-soaked cheek. 

Joel removed himself from you, easing your sore legs off his shoulders and placing your feet on the floor. Your vision was still blurred as you stared at his face, his lips twitching with a smug grin and a trail of sweat rolling down his temples. 

“I reckon that oil’s ready to check now, darlin’,” he said, offering you a hand.

You took it, winding your fingers through his. With a squeeze of his fingers, you walked over to the car, trying—and failing—to hide the limp in your steps. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and down your thighs, but you watched silently as he pulled out the dipstick and presented it to you.

“Good job, darlin’,” he smiled. “Now ya’ know how to change the oil. Whatcha wanna learn next?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your underwear from the floor and slipping them over your hips. 

“Maybe I can teach you how to slow down your damn sex drive, cowboy. You’re gonna fucking break me in half one day,” you grumbled. 

“Don’t think you’d mind it much, babydoll.”

Joel tugged you close, tipping your chin up to meet his lips with a tender kiss. You were pliant in his hands, molding yourself to each hard muscle of his body. Running your hands up his biceps, you gripped his shoulders and slipped your tongue over his. He palmed your ass, pressing your body tighter against his chest. 

“You’re a terrible teacher, you know that?” You mumbled against his mouth.

“But ya’ love me,” he tossed back, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. 

“Yeah, I do,” you sighed happily. 

“And I love you, babydoll.”

[papaya-twinks]

Hi I love ur work and I was wondering if u could write a story inspired by that one stream with lando and ginge where lando says "I've just got done from the front and the back" and ginger says "can i be next in line" and lando says "u have to earn it".

It mad me think of earned it by the weekend and I would love if u wrote a fic with lando x reader inspired by him saying "u have to earn it" thxxx

Warnings: Smut, 18+ rough sex, choking, spanking, slapping, throat fucking

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Teasing Lando had absolutely been a conscious decision, and you expected it would go the same as every time, you’d get punished with Lando pinning you to the nearest surface and fixing you up, but this? This was unexpected. All you’d done was nip a few times at his neck and run your hand over his bulge a few times. 

“Come here,” Lando demanded as he shut the front door. You walked to him, the mindless hugging your body as you stood in front of him. A soft gasp left your lips as his hand wrapped round your throat, pulling you up the stairs and into the bedroom. With one hand, he roughy, pushed you onto the bed, his other hand undoing his belt, placing it on the bed. 

“Lando,” you said, thinking he was just gonna bend you over the bed something, crawling forwards to him, your mouth instinctively open as he pulled his trousers down. Lando raised an eyebrow at your action, pushing your mouth shut as you frowned. “What-?” you asked, as he pushed you back down. 

“Shut up,” he said, picking up his belt once more, his hand clutching yours. You gasped as he turned you onto your stomach, pulling your hands round your back, tightening the belt round your wrists. “Think you can act like a little slut and get away with it?” Lando asked as you winced, the belt tight against you. 

“Not happening,” he leaned down, his lips against your ear as he removed his shirt, his hand pushing your dress upwards over your ass. He hummed, your breath hitching as he ran his hand over the curve of your thighs, his hand coming down softly as you shrieked. “Lando!” you gasped, your ass stinging, in a good way. 

“Hm?” he asked, seemingly oblivious as he pushed his finger into your heat, teasing your clit with his thumb as he pumped his index finger in and out of you, adding his middle finger, your back arching at the feeling. You whined as he pulled out, dragging your body down the bed, your knees flat on the floor, your body bent over the mattress. 

“Gonna be a little tease, hm?” he snorted, pressing his tongue to your wetness, your body jolting forwards at the sensation. “Lando,” you gasped, his tongue flicking against you  as you rolled your hips slightly. Lando huffed, pushing you back down, walking round the bed, pulling you back up. “Open,” he said, pushing his fingers into your mouth. 

You did what he said, eyes squeezed shut as he tapped his dick on your lips, before pushing in, one hand on the back of your head, the other holding your bandaged wrists. Your eyes half rolled as he hit the back of your throat again and again, going fully in, your throat bulging softly. His groans were like heaven to yours ears as he rocked his hips into you, his thighs hitting your nose and cheeks. 

When he felt your throat tighten slightly round him, your gags more profound, he pulled out, holding your head up, your salvia clinging to his length. When he was sure you were okay, he pushed in again, repeating his actions, head thrown back as he pumped himself through your throat, one had squeezing at your wrists. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, sliding out your mouth and tapping your cheek gently with his dick. He went back round behind you, pulling you onto your knees, bent clean over the bed as he pumped his wet length a few times, before he slid into you, your moans muffled by Lando’s hand choking your neck. 

“So good f’me,” he mumbled, your knot building up as he slammed into you, the body shaking slightly. “Oh, Lando,” you gasped, eyes wide as you tightened, your orgasm washing over you. He stopped moving immediately, hand harder round your neck, his other one slapping down onto your ass as you moaned, head thrown back. “Did I say you could cum, he?”. 

You whined at his words, his hand coming doen again, your body jolting, instantly, his hand came to your hair, yanking your head back as he drilled into you, your shrieks filling the room. “Wanna cum so bad, hm?” he spat, “Gonna make sure you do it so much more,” your second orgasm built up. 

It washed over you, weaker, but he didn’t stop. Five times. Five times he made you cum. And he still wasn’t done. “Lando,” you choked out, his lips near your ear. “One more for me,” he cooed. “I can’t,” you gasped, the knot present once more. “Last one,”. He’d said that the last two times, and he’d made you go on further. 

Your orgasm flooded down, your puddy tightening on his cock, a groan from his lips. “Gonna fill you up,” he growled, “so fucking much,”. You nodded desperately, his cum shooting out in thick ropes, his hand tightening in your hair. “Good,” he mumbled, his thrusts slower and sloppier. “Behave next time,” Lando said, hand on your throat still. 

[unhinged-bratty-boy]

Dabi - sad headcanons

This is my first time writing anything, be gentle with me 🙏🏻

It wasn’t supposed to be anything. Just a bored glance while killing time in the a convenience store as he waited for his contact to show. But then you walked in.

At first, he didn’t think much of it - just another face in the endless sea of strangers. But something about you made him pause. The way you casually brushed hair from your face while scanning shelves, the soft hum of a song under your breath, completely unaware of the world around you. You were normal. Unshattered. Alive.

His sharp, turquoise eyes narrowed, lingering longer than they should’ve. He blamed it on curiosity. Something about you felt warm in a way he hadn’t experienced in years - like standing too close to a hearth after a lifetime of cold. It made him uncomfortable. Made him angry.

He should’ve walked away. He didn’t.

Dabi followed you out of the store without even realizing it. At first, it was instinct - silent footsteps slipping through the dark alleys like a shadow as he followed. He told himself he just wanted to see where you lived. Just a quick glance, nothing more.

This one time turned into a shady routine for him. He had to know more.

Within days, he knew your routine - when you left for work, when you returned, where you shopped. He mapped out the weakest points of your flat with practiced efficiency - windows that didn’t lock quite right, a back door that stuck if you didn’t shove it hard enough. Old habits. Necessary. Just in case.

At night, he watched the soft glow of your apartment lights from across the street, imagining what your life must be like on the inside. Warm, ordinary, safe. He hated how much he wanted it.

One day, when he saw you struggling with heavy grocery bags, the opportunity was too perfect to pass up. He shoved his hands deep into his material pants pockets, masking the nervous twitch of his fingers.

"Need a hand?" His voice was rough, casual - but there was something too sharp in his gaze, too focused.

You hesitated for just a moment before offering a grateful smile that hit him like a punch to the chest.

"Thank you! These bags are killing me."

He took them without another word, pretending the weight didn’t bother him. He could feel your eyes on him, curious, a little suspicious but not wary - not yet.

As you walked together, you talked - about nothing, really. The weather, the annoying store line, small, inconsequential things. But every word out of your mouth felt like oxygen to a man used to suffocating.

When you unlocked your door and turned back to him, smiling that same soft, trusting smile, he swore he felt his ruined heart stutter.

"Thanks again... um...?" you prompted, clearly expecting a name.

For a split second, he considered giving his real name - Touya - but killed the thought immediately. Too dangerous. Too personal.

"Dabi," he said instead, voice low, almost daring you to question it.

"Weird name," you said playfully, completely unfazed. How sweet you didn't recognise his villain name. "But thanks, Dabi. I really appreciate it."

Dabi always got what he wanted. He was ruthless, cunning, relentless. He should’ve burned this weakness out of himself the moment he realized what was happening. But he couldn't. He wanted you. All of you. And he was about to make you his.

This was how you two started seeing each other.

Dabi never calls your flat a home. The word sticks in his throat like ash. Home was burned away years ago, leaving only the cold, empty shell of survival. The apartment he crushes in from time to time is just a place where he exists, not where he belongs.

He lives in your home like a visitor overstaying his welcome. His clothes stay packed in a small, battered duffel bag shoved under the bed. “It’s just easier this way,” he mutters when you ask why he never uses the closet.

No matter how much he scrubs his skin, the faint scent of burning flesh never fades. He can see you notice but pretends he doesn’t. It makes him feel disgusted with his own self. It makes him feel guilty because you deserve much better. When you light scented candles or spray room freshener, he flinches inwardly, convinced you’re trying to mask the stench of him.

Every time he touches you, it feels like a silent goodbye. His hands are scarred and trembling, his grip tight like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers. When he holds you, it’s never soft - it’s desperate, bruising, clinging. He needs the reminder that you’re real, that he’s still here, that he hasn’t burned you away yet.

He doesn’t say “I love you” because he thinks it’s a lie. People like him can’t love - not properly. Not in ways that don’t hurt. But sometimes, late at night when he thinks you’re asleep, he’ll trace your features with the lightest touch, memorizing every line like he’s carving you into his memory - for when you’re gone.

He expects you to leave. He knows you will, eventually. Everyone does. He can’t stop his sharp tongue or bitter jabs when he feels too close - it’s his defense mechanism. If you get too close, you might see him for what he really is - broken, twisted, beyond saving. Better that you leave on your terms than pity him.

Dabi barely sleeps. On good nights, he dozes fitfully beside you, waking at every small noise like he’s still being hunted. On bad nights, he sits by the window until dawn, smoking one cigarette after another, eyes fixed on your soft, relaxed features as you're deep in your slumber.

Late at night, when the world is still, you often find him standing at the window, his eyes tired, staring into the endless dark. His cigarette burns low between scarred fingers, ash scattering unnoticed, staining your floor. "Touya, come back to bed," you ask, improving your silky nightgown around yourself. He doesn’t turn around. His voice is rough, distant, "Tsk. Don't call me Touya. He is long dead."

On his worst days, he believes he deserves the pain. He’ll disappear without a word, returning with fresh burns hidden beneath his sleeves, the acrid smell of charred skin lingering around him. You know better than to ask where he’s been - his hollow eyes tell you everything you need to know.

Dabi doesn’t believe in a future - not for himself. The idea of living a long, peaceful life feels like a cruel joke. He talks about “when” he has to leave, never “if.” He’s already made peace with the fact that whatever this is - you and him - won’t last. Nothing ever does.

He keeps insignificant things - crumbled notes you left on the fridge, your old scarf that still smells faintly of your perfume, a broken hairclip. He stashes them in a small, dented box under his bed in the LOV hideout. Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he pulls the box out and runs his fingers over the keepsakes, pretending, for a few minutes, that he’s someone worth remembering.

When you fight, Dabi lashes out like a wounded animal, sharp and cruel. His words are designed to hurt because he expects you to leave anyway - better to make you hate him than to watch you drift away. But afterward, he’s consumed by guilt, curling into himself like a burned-out ember.

He can’t say sorry - not with words at least. But after a fight, you’ll find your favorite snacks mysteriously restocked, the blanket you love folded neatly on the couch, a worn apology scrawled on a crumpled scrap of paper left where you can find it. He’s trying - in the only ways he knows how.

Dabi isn’t someone meant for love - but God, how he wants it. He knows he’ll never deserve you, that this life he’s stumbled into is a borrowed dream destined to shatter. But for now - for however long this fragile, imperfect thing lasts - he’ll hold on with both hands, knowing that in the end, he’ll be the one left burning.

[chuulyssa]

can you write about pm!dazai who edges you a lot with a breeding kink? fem reader please!

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ ᴏꜱᴀᴍᴜ !

★ COUNT ─ 0.7k

!! TAGS ─ f!reader x pm!dazai, underage sex, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f receiving), cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, spanking, degradation, praise kink, hair pulling, edging, begging kink, breeding kink, overstimulation, slightly angsty at the end, mood swings, exhibitionism, public sex, bathroom sex, mirror sex, dazai is a jerk and reader is a brat

★ PROLOGUE ─ a jealous, mafia boyfriend? what could possibly go wrong?

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

READ ON AO3

It wasn't easy being Osamu Dazai's girlfriend.

Sure, the suicidal tendency was bearable to some extent. The intense amount of flirting and teasing? Maybe. Heck, even his dangerous profession was okay with you.

But there were times - times that pissed even your usually calm (and secretly loving) boyfriend off, which would result in moments such as this one.

"Please, please, 'Samu, I wanna come."

"No," he flat-out refused you, placing his tongue so that it would hit your clit with every word. "Should've thought of that before draping yourself all over that dumbass."

"But I-"

You were cut off by another finger inside your cunt, stretching it out even more. You were practically screaming at this point, make-up smudged and head lolled to one side of the bathroom door. Your legs were shaking, and you thought you would've collapsed ages ago if it wasn't for Dazai's hands holding your ass steadily from in between your legs.

"Oh, god, please, I can't hold it in!" you cried pathetically, mascara running down your cheeks.

"Better try to," he replied haughtily. "You wanted my attention, right? There you have it."

It was only when you began to drip that he let out a groan as if it was your fault for not letting him "enjoy his meal."

"Seriously?" he gave your ass a loud spank. "Can't even listen to me? You're miserable."

You whimpered, face pressing into the door frame as your legs finally let go, causing you to fall crashing on the floor while Dazai got up and unbuckled his pants.

He folded his belt in half, bent down and hit your ass again, and although he had tried to be as gentle as he could've, you still ended up squirting the rest of your orgasm.

"Done?" Dazai rolled his eyes, and you nodded. He pulled you up from your elbows harshly, as if you were nothing more than a ragdoll for him, and pushed you against the bathroom sink.

Running a slender finger down your back, he spoke quietly, as if his entire mood had changed all of a sudden.

"You like this, don't you? Like it when I play with you like this? That's the reason you talk to Chuuya, right? So I get jealous? Because you know we'll end up this way then?"

Your brain was fucked out and your vision was blurry, but you could make out the serious, almost somber expression on your boyfriend's face from the mirror in front of you. You bucked your hips behind you to reach his cock, closing your eyes and nodding. You mumbled a tiny, "I'm sorry," which he ignored.

"You won't... leave me, right?"

You opened your eyes and gave him a lazy smile, which he appreciated, considering your current condition.

"You love me?"

"The most."

Dazai nodded and lined his cock up your entrance. Your hands gripped the edge of the sink tightly in anticipation, your knuckles white. Slowly, he pushed in, taking in every inch of your tight pussy. His hand reached out to fondle your nipples, head resting on your back as he pulled back and thrust inside you again.

You let out a loud moan, mouth forming an O-shape and eyelashes framing your eyes in a sultry look. Oh, how you loved the way Dazai pounded into you, hair messy and sweat dropping, calling you his "pretty little slut". So lovable after the relentless edging and begging.

Well, it didn't take him long to switch up his personality once more, going from calm to rough all over again. You were slumped over the sink, head and back arched while Dazai silently thrust into you with all his might.

"Bet you wouldn't leave me just so you could have this dick, yea?" he yanked your hair and you yelped. "So I'm gonna come inside you, and I'm hiding your little birth control pills."

You whined.

"You're my little breeding bitch. I'm gonna fuck you so hard. Bet you'd like for your periods to disappear for nine months? Eh?" he teased.

The idea was refreshing. And so he continued. Once, twice, thrice. Honestly, you couldn't remember how much cum he stored in you. It wasn't until someone knocked on the door that you left the mall. This was probably the eighth time you got caught in public.

It really wasn't easy being Osamu Dazai's girlfriend.

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.