#dale kobble x ME!!!!!

[devilst0at]

What I would be doing if I was in that interrogation room fr … he better be ready cause im crawling over the table

(This is essentially longlegs self-ship art if that’s too cringe for u look away friend)

Note height difference I’m 5’3 and kobble is like at least 6 foot I think 🫣 I’ve never been a selfshipper but this creepy old man drives me fucking insane guys. I think if he let me be his best friend and give him kisses maybe he’d stop killing people with dolls

[mostlyghostlyy]

"I think..... I miss my wife" but it's me talking about a 60y/o man named Dale

[lurkstyle]

he’s driving me CRAZY LEAVE ME ALONE

the basement is so clean and orderly. like he has a lot of stuff but it’s all in its little places, the floor is clean, he’s got a cute little setup with a rug and chairs. His handwriting is lovely.

His clothes look clean even though they’re worn, his hair is never greasy, he does his makeup well from what i’ve seen.

His teeth are gorgeous, his hands (hhrmhfhgbgg) are so pretty and well kept. i never understood people thinking he’s disgusting in a hygiene sense because AS THE EVIDENCE SHOWS 🤓 he is not. His whole shtick is being pretty for the devil, i imagine he keeps everything so nice like you do when you have guests over. i think he smells like laundry and an antique store. that’s my man.

[rabbitbonesandsheabutter]

happy friday the 13th i’m celebrating by writing about that old man’s peen 😃

ok ik Dale is 50-60ish and his dick might not cooperate but I’m so sure he would go to great lengths to be able to fuck someone he wanted. Like I would think working for satan should come with bonuses like being young and able to fuck forever, but Dale’s been let down on everything else so far, maybe he’s only kept fit enough to carry out his duties. And even though imo he’d value actual companionship above sex, if he thinks he’s gonna get some he’s stopping at nothing to make sure it happens and he doesn’t ruin the relationship before it really happens by being unable to meet your expectations.

So anyway imagine he can’t get/keep it up. I feel like his first resort would be something like herbs with aphrodisiac properties (for the aesthetic) - he’s making tea, he’s making weird pastes or salves and applying them directly, he’s powdering and fucking snorting them. If that fails he’s digging up the crustiest dustiest books on magic he can find and poring through old wives tale after old wives tale, making up spell jars and drinking the nastiest concoctions all in an effort to feel all of you, to be able to please you as best he can.

And I think if he could get it up but not last he’s not above numbing cream. Would get unbelievably frustrated that his plan worked and he can’t feel enough, bc let’s be real he doesn’t do things by halves, even if he did get genital specific numbing cream he’s using wayyyy too much. Ends up numb for hours and practically sobbing into your shoulder as he grinds into you, both exhausted but he still can’t cum. When he finally does (maybe you get out a strap/top him) he has never been more satisfied with himself, both of you laid out sweaty and gross, smug little smile despite him still having tears and eyeliner down his face. He will be doing that again.

[devilslamb]

Do you personally think Dale likes being creepy? Or do you think he doesn’t mean it but just comes off as creepy?

hmmmm... honestly i think it's a bit of both. i think hes able to get a kick out of creeping ppl out sometimes. he has that bit of whimsy about him. when he understands hes going to get a true laugh or a positive reaction, he probably does enjoy it.

but i think most of the time, he just comes off as creepy given his stature and personality. it just makes him feel less and less human and it kind of eats at him when he feels people ostrasize him right in front of his eyes. when he can see the snarled gleam of judgement in their eyes.

it gnaws at his brain, and i dont think the outburst he has in the car after his hardware store trip is the first he's had. i think it happens a lot, and i think he's desperate for some kind of positive interaction.

he just is unable to approach someone in a manner that isnt offputting because i think his twenty plus years of being a murderer has completely dwindled him down.

he no longer sees the families he ruins as families but as the dolls he makes. toys. and when youve been staring at something for so long, stuck in that perspective, u never see anything else.

i think this makes it difficult for him to interact with people in a more normal way than what we see him do. hes lost the connection not everyone are dolls. they're not toys, and so he comes off real creepy and strange. while at the same time, feeling less human himself because of how isolated he is.

hes so insular, stuck down in a basement. him and ruth have alienated themselves from everyone and everything. thinks it makes it easier for them to go on with what they're doing to detach from people as whole. except ruth--she still has to interact with people--so she doesnt come off so alarming.

HOWEVERRRR... if you're his partner, i think he'd loveeee to creep you out in anyway that he could because he knows you still see him as a human. as a person. as someone desperately reaching out for connection through humor or affection. and he sees you the same way because you can understand him. can understand that he's forgotten himself. you know he's teasing most of the time with how creepy he can get. he gets a kick out of it, too. he's like a little clown.

[crimsonxcloverr]

i just wanna give dale the attention he deserves, cuddle and love on him, then give him the best head he’s ever received.

[houndsabbath]

i want to see dale in all black, i feel like he’d look even hotter and scarier oooohh my god

[funeralpartyclown]

He would Definitely like putting knives/guns to youre head or neck :} and would watch you squirm in discomfort but you trust him with It.(or *cough* make u squirt rly hard).

I wrote an ENTIRE POST. Then tumblr glitched and deleted it. Omfg.

The irreparable damage inflicted upon my brain by reading creepypasta x readers in elementary school… I need a knife to my neck so bad. did yall ever use quotev… dark times… I would be normal if I never made the mistake of using that and ao3..

Intense below the cut you have been warned.

Cutting your shirt off first. Finely sharpened blade ripping through the fabric, a straight line all the way up your torso. Knowing if it was an inch forward he’d be cutting through the flesh, spilling your guts, and he could do so easily.

Blade resting for a moment between your breasts, so close to your major organs. Telling you in a high tone how he wants to cut them off you.

Running the cold metal across your skin and watching you shiver, pressing the tip gently against you while he drags it in fine lines. Thin little cuts all over you, he’d lick the blood off in long lewd strokes with his mouth open leaving a trail of drool and filth in his wake. Ruining you in every way. Telling you how pretty it is on his fingers when he smears it, how good you taste.

Pressing the blade against your neck. The trust, you tilting your head back and letting him. Exposed, vulnerable. Sharp thick metal so close to your major arteries, and if circumstances were different. He’d have no issue gliding it through, no remorse. Feeling you tremble like prey but you stay put for him.

Outfhiugsjgh. Russian roulette with Dale? The adrenaline and the pounding of your heart hamming so hard in your chest. Seeing the glint of fear in your eyes. Holding you in his lap pressed against him, fingers slipping between your legs feeling how wet you are because he knows you’re filthy enough to get off on that.

The idea of him spattered in your viscera. Opened up just for him. to see your insides, your still warm blood dripping off him knowing it was coursing through your veins while your heart beat for him. Hard under you while he pulls the trigger with a click. Making eye contact and smiling so innocently like he isn’t hard thinking about blowing your brains out.

Or, laying you down. Pushing your legs apart and sliding the cold barrel of the gun inside you. Making you clean it off for him with your tongue after, jamming it inside and practically throatfucking you with it just to watch you drool around it and take it like a good girl.

[01131974]

obligitory introduction post:

hello little angels guess who caved in and decided to make a longlegs hornyposting blog (its me)

this blog is mainly going to be about longlegs/lee, if that isnt your taste then feel free to block! this blog is FUBFREE, YKINMKATIO, SALS etc you get the point. curating your internet experience is important for you and the people around you!

feel free to send narsty asks! they dont necessarily have to be about the ship, it can be solo stuff with lee or longlegs too! anything goes here 🎂🐍*

*thats my little dumb ship emoji i made. enjoy

[joeyloganho]

I'm gonna start writing stuff for Longlegs/Dale Kobble. Please send me things. I will satiate all our nasty needs.

[devilst0at]

my personal take on dale with someone like a significant other is that he would actually be quite sweet and gentle despite him being … y’know, a serial killer by proxy and generally just an unsettling person. the only time we see him being physically violent towards someone (besides himself lol) in the movie is when he ties up ruth in that one scene, otherwise he’s relatively docile most of the time, doing his work from behind the scenes - and besides, if he does commit acts to harm people, it’s for satan and because he’s trying to fulfill something or reach a goal in the name of satan, not necessarily because it’s in his nature or because he enjoys hurting people. with a significant other or even just a one night stand or something i think he’d be so touch starved and covetous of that person that he would be quite sweet and lovey, especially if he really liked that person - even if it comes out in sort of a creepy or clumsy way. i think if he was creepy it would be in sort of a sweet way, like just being a bit over-affectionate or squeezing you into a hug and not letting go while he mumbles to you about how much he likes you. he means well but he’s just a lil odd.

like, he’d definitely be clingy and huggy and give very sweet gentle kisses. and he’d try to be a gentleman like reaching things for you, opening doors for you or even carrying you if you’re tired. i think he seems like the kind of person that love could really heal - maybe part of the reason he became an agent of the devil in the first place was even FOR love and attention to an extent, even if satan’s love is different and more complex and not entirely fulfilling. i think he’d just melt and even sort of become more of a person again if someone loved him and took care of him. if he actually had a long-term s/o, of course eventually with their consent i think he would get a little more handsy and rough and nasty but never anything his s/o didn’t want and reciprocate. shit if he was mine i would probably be more overbearing to him rather than the other way around 💀

i can imagine holding his face in my hands and telling him that he’s so pretty and that i love and want him and him just breaking down into tears, i mean judging from how teary he gets meeting lee he obviously is capable of getting very emotional and sentimental. and i think since he seems to inwardly feel insecure and maybe a bit ugly, since he wears the makeup to kind of try and look better and since people generally don’t have a positive reaction to him, someone telling him that they really like him and think he’s desirable would just break him down. like he wouldn’t believe you at first but then he’d be so weepy and happy that you actually like him.

and i definitely think he’d call his s/o all kinds of cutesy pet names like angel and sweetie/sweetheart. and he’d definitely love gentle touches from someone else like petting his hair or holding his hand or kissing his nose. i can just see him getting all happy and giggly at stuff like that and flashing you that adorable smile/head tilt. like don’t get me wrong i do think he could get FREAKKY absolutely but i can also see this man being so gentle and sweet if someone gave him the chance. someone probably hasn’t given him a genuine hug in like 20 years or so and i wanna see him just be so enamored by a hug that if you try to let go/break away from his grasp he doesn’t let you go and just begs you to stay a few more minutes.

🥲 i love him so much i wanna save him (from the hell of living)

[mostlyghostlyy]

dale is such a freak I hate him sm I want him to corner me and grope me while i have a panic attack and can’t fight him off (idc if he’d be unaware or just don’t gaf) sorry. sorry

Something similar, I've had this cooking up for a while.

Imagine you’re out in a public place, maybe a mall with a few of your girlfriends, just planning on having a good time and spending a shitload of money. Walking around bags in hands, when one of your friends points out a man sitting on one of the benches. He is just staring into space, mouth opened and muttering. The three of you start mocking his appearance, trying to contain the giggles at whispered jokes. That is when one of your friends dares you to go up and flirt with him. They’re looking at you expectantly, so you shrug and go along. It's just a joke after all, no harm no foul.

You stroll over to his bench, “This seat taken?” You motion to the bench. He looks up at you as if awoken from a trance, smiles and shakes his head. You sit, and he leans away from you to get a better look. Your friend's snickering in the corner, but he doesn't seem to notice all of his attention drawn to you. “Shame to see such a handsome man sitting all alone. You waiting on a wife or something? Maybe she's in one of these stores trying on a pretty dress to impress you.”

He blinks dumbfounded, smile frozen on his face. “Wife?” His hands fidgeting with the ring on his finger. “No….. no…. wife, I-,” A little breathless laugh. You rest your head in your hand, eyeing him amusedly, while he tried to form a coherent sentence. This was easier than you’d thought it would be, usually it takes at least a few lines before they devolve into muddled messes. You tap him lightly on the shoulder, and he lets out a small moan at your touch. You stifle a giggle and continue. Putting on your best flirty voice, “Whats your name, tiger?” Pushing the hair from his face, and he leans into your touch.

“Dale,” he responds lightly, still nuzzling into your hand. You pull it away disgusted, but quickly regain your composure. “And what’s your name, Angel?” You let out a chuckle and lean close. He smells musty and sweaty, you wonder when was the last time he showered. Whispering in his ear “You can call me whatever you want, baby.” You feel his whole body shutter, his hands slowly coming up to caress your face. A glance down would reveal his growing erection, wet spot now gracing his pants. You lean in, as if to kiss him. He shuts his eyes, ready to receive the act bestowed upon him.

Dale’s eyes shoot open when he hears you start to laugh, starting as a giggle and upgrading to a full guffaw. Your girlfriends run up, equally as in tears as you are. Snickering and holding each other upright. “Oh my god, did you see his face?” one giggles “He totally would have cum in his pants if you kissed him, just look at how hard he is.” Dale looks away ashamed, tears welling up in his eyes. “It was just a joke!” You croon, “We were just trying to have some fun! Don't act like you didn't enjoy it.”

He gets up and walks away, his face a shade of scarlett as he curses you under his breath. What was to be expected for him? He should’ve known this was some kind of cruel prank, no doubt the angels of heaven sent you to make him more miserable than he already is. He finds a quiet and secluded place, he is still revved up from your touching him. He jerks off until he is satisfied. Deciding that he wants to find you again to teach you a lesson.

He watches as you waive your friends off, you’re stopping to use the restroom. Its a single stall, wonderful. Nice and private. Entering you walk up to the mirror and do some makeup touch-ups. Startled when he starts pounding on the door. “Occupied.” You hiss, and continue. The knocking gets louder and more aggressive, you groan. Rolling your eyes “There is someone in here, dipshit. Find another bathroom.” It continues, you reluctantly but angrily walk over to the door. Swinging it open “Look asshole-” A hand flies over your mouth and you’re pushed backwards into the room. Realization hits you, it's the same man from earlier.

“Okay, Angel,” He huffs “Im going to remove my hand, but if you scream, I will cut out your tongue and make you eat it. Understand, beautiful?” You nod, and he pulls his hand away. You start begging for your life, forgiveness. Threatened apologies trickling out of your mouth in shuttering gasps. Of course you have no choice but to ask him what he wants. “I want what I was promised, Angel. You cant just treat a man like this, and expect him not to come and claim the prize.” He has you pushed up against the sink, hands stuck out behind you grasping the cold plaster. Your face turned away and eyes tightly shut. “And most of all, i want a real fucking apology.” With the last word, he tears your shirt open.

Your skin prickles at the unprotected air, he enjoys watching you breath in and out panicked. You wince when he reaches under your bra. Nipples already perked up from the cold air, he pinches and fondles them. One hand traveling up to grab at your throat, squeezing softly. “Im sorry, im so fucking sorry.” You rasp. He snorts. “Try again later, Princess.”

Yelping, he grabs you and flips you around. Your ass to him, and now you’re facing the mirror. Black streaks of mascara stained down your face, complexion both pale and flushed simultaneously. He tears down your pants, relishing your cries for mercy. Mocking the appeals for pity.

“Relax, Angel. Aren't you having fun?” He hisses in your ear before yanking your panties down. His erection fully grown and painful for him. No more teasing. He bends you over the sink, lining himself up and slowly moving his hips to fully lodge himself inside. He does this on purpose to make it as painful for you as he can. You scream and grit your teeth as he begins grinding into you. Your hands and elbows digging into the white of the sink, you begin feeling nauseous. Head drooping down to stare at the drain. Dale notices this, and yanks your head back with a fistful of your hair. Giving you no choice but to watch yourself in the mirror. Observing how his head flies back with every thrust, and how his hand keeps roaming over your body as if it cannot find a good perch. Watching as he rails you without mercy, pace brutal and bruising. Hitting deep within you, and probing your cervix. Involentarly letting out a moan of pleasure, arching your back. Unconsciously letting your hips thrust to meet his. “Do you like that!? Do you like that!? Do you like that!?” He screams after every thrust. Words starting out clear, then getting jumbled the closer he gets.

His whines ratchet up, and you've been with enough guys to figure that he's getting close to orgasm. Begging him in your mind to pull out, not to cum inside you. As if he could read your thoughts he climaxes. Hot strings of cum coat the inside of your womb, leaking around his cock. He leans on you, panting heavily. Peeling his sticky skin off yours. Watching as you sink to the floor in dismay, he laughs. “Relax, Angel. It was only a joke.”

[lurkstyle]

y’all ever call dale cuz you miss his silly voice or am i cooked

(i’m cooked)

[rabbitbonesandsheabutter]

Do u think dale snores? If so u think its loud and anoying or soft and kinda cute?

I think he breathes with his mouth closed like once the whole movie so yeah he def snores. Maybe not really loud, probably only annoying if you need complete silence to sleep. The more annoying thing might be him starfishing on top of you with his full weight.

[ohtheewhorer]

Kinktober Day 15: Dollification + Roleplaying

Dale Ferdinand Kobble/Longlegs x Fem!Captive!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, dark, unprotected sex, creampies, multiple orgasm, kissing, doll roleplaying, dress up, reader calls dale ‘mommy’ during roleplay, stockholm syndrome, yandere!dale, brainwashed!reader, implied agent!reader, mentions of kidnapping, cross-dressing dale (wears dress and panties), sub!dale

Summary: The roles reverse and the dollmaker becomes the plaything.

You’re Dale’s favorite doll picked carefully out of a sea of faces. Out of them all, you were the one that attracted him the most to the point in which he had to have you. And so he did just that.

Oh, he remembers how cute and frightened you were when he’d taken you home that night. How you begged and wept to see your family again while cursing him for entering your life. You didn’t get it yet but eventually you’d see that you needed him as much as he needed you.

It seems after all that time together now, you finally understand. He couldn’t be any happier. You’re such a good girl and a lot of fun. He especially loves how far you’ve come along during roleplaying.

Here in the dollhouse Dale built for the two of you to play pretend in, most things were made out of plastic. In the earlier days of your homecoming, you used to throw and break things in rebellion, insulting your playtime together. But now he gets to adoringly watch you fake a bite into a toy fruit from a plastic edible arrangement display.

Dale enters the kitchen, wagging a finger. “Honey, you shouldn’t eat those. The guests will be here any minute and our beautiful display will be all gone if you continue to eat those fruits.”

“Sorry, mommy,” You say, shamefully popping the toy peach slice back in its place. “They’re just so delicious.”

He softly laughs, kissing your hand. “I know you can’t help yourself when it comes to things that are as sweet as you. You can have just one more fruit.”

“You mean it?” You beam.

“Go for it.”

Your nose scrunches with how hard you smile before you end up picking a plastic blueberry from the display. You fake eat it, rubbing your belly as if it were the most delicious thing you’ve tasted.

“This makes me want a blueberry pie.” You say.

A ding from the “oven” surprises a delighted Dale as he rushes over to it, preparing to remove the pie of from the oven after putting on some oven mitts. The pie is obviously not hot or real, plastic with a slice already cut into it. And the oven is just a part of the plastic life-sized kitchen, the light within acting as heating coils.

“You’re in luck.” He says resting the dish on the table.

“Smells delicious. Bet it tastes delicious, too. May I please have a piece?”

“Well, normally I’d wait until company arrived but since you asked so nicely, you may.”

You reach for the slice with your hand and Dale’s smile drops. You’d made a mistake during your roleplaying. The pie was meant to be hot and yet you touched it with your bare hand. Dale hated when you broke character. He’d given you the benefit of the doubt when you’d first arrived but now you should be an expert plaything by now. You’ll be punished for this!

Trembling, you think of a quick way to save this. “Ow!” You scream, tossing the slice onto the ground and nursing your hand. “It’s really hot!”

His hardened face softens as he goes to your side, holding your hand in his. “Oh, you poor thing, you should be very careful. Remember slow and steady wins the race.”

You whimper, sniffling a little. “I wasn’t thinking. Now I’ve ruined my nice dress and your floor. You’ve just cleaned these floors and now it’s all messy with your yummy blueberry pie,” You lower your head in defeat. “I’ll accept whatever punishment you give me.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, little angel,” Dale says, placing a puffy-lipped kiss on your open palm. “I’ll worry about this mess later. Let’s patch you up and then find you a new dress to impress.”

“Sounds wonderful.” You reply excitedly.

After retrieving a toy medical supply bag from the pantry, Dale attends to your “wounds” and you play up your act for him. You can’t help but to shudder at his depravity even after all this time; the way his face lights up in pleasure at your pained whines and moans.

“All done!” He sing-songs and you raise your bandage-wrapped hand up to examine it.

“That feels a lot better, mommy. Thank you.”

“Of course, angel. Now let’s get you out of this messy dress. We’ve got plenty of dresses for you to choose from.” He says, clapping his hands eagerly.

You both enter the manually-cranked elevator that leads to the second floor of the dollhouse, where your bedroom is.

You enter the room going towards your plastic closet, a large button in the wall you could press that revolves to reveal each dress you owned one by one.

“That blue dress would look lovely on you.” Dale says, reaching it and placing it over in front of you. He walks you over to the “mirror” which was just a piece of reflective tape over a pink plastic mirror frame. Did you mention everything was fucking plastic?! It’s enough to drive you nuts but you hold on for some reason. Was it because of him or were there others outside of this plastic world that you stayed sane for?

“You seem distant, little angel,” Dale says in a heavy breath beside your ear. “Could it be more important than dress up?”

“Nothing’s more important than my time with you, mommy.” You smile, shaking off your strange thoughts.

“Go on and try on this beauty.” He says before facing away to give you privacy.

You pull the strings from the corset of your dress. A low whisper within you tempts you to do the unthinkable and use the rope-like laces to wrap around his pale neck and squeeze. To…hurt him. No! You could never. Not to your mommy.

But why did it sound like the right thing to do? As if he’d been the barrier to your freedom.

You let the dress pool around your feet, quickly shrugging on a new dress. You could tell he’d personally made it himself. It was made of a cheap satin fabric with a kind of tulle material that crunched every time you moved.

“I’m ready.” You whisper

He turns around and gasps with joy, voice pitched high. “Oh. There she is…the almost birthday girl.”

Is that right? Your birthday’s approaching? Goodness, you couldn’t tell how long it’s been since you’ve seen a calendar.

“You look stunning,” He says, hands clasped together over his mouth as he watches his creation worn by the doll he loves so very much. “You pull it off. Better than myself I’d say. I’m quite jealous.”

“You flatter me,” You wave off. “I bet it’d look even more beautiful on you than me, mommy.”

“Oh, hogwash.” He says bashfully, looking down and fiddling with the belt of his robe.

“I really mean it,” You say, walking up to him. “I’d bet if you’d pamper yourself as much as you’ve done for me…you’d see how beautiful you truly are. The way I see you.”

You place a hand on his pale filler-plumped cheek and he melts against it despite feeling as if he should cut off this kind of contact. Believe it or not, Dale liked keeping things wholesome to uphold the friendly environment. So no sexual contact whatsoever has ever been exchanged. But the way you caressed his cheek, hand on his chest made him weak at the knees.

“Mommy, could I maybe pamper you instead?” You ask.

“The guests will be here any—”

“I’d really like to brush your pretty hair,” You insist. “Maybe apply your makeup for you, help you into this lovely dress you’ve made. We won’t be too long. Indulge in this with me just once, mommy.”

“W-well, I guess we can have a little bit of fun before the dinner party.” He pulls out a small pocket watch from his sweatpants pocket, setting a timer. “35 minutes on the dot and then we’ll clean that mess you made in the kitchen before our guests come to the tea party.”

You jump up and down, excitedly. “Yes, mommy.”

You drag him to the vanity table, sitting him on the unstable seat that looked like it’d give out under his weight. He looked much too big and tall in the tiny chair but you trekked on, taking the large brush from the table and brushing through his hair.

“Do you have a style in mind?” You ask, picking up fake scissors to snip away at his hair.

“I’d like to look like the new rockstars in the magazines.” He chuckles. “Hang on, I think I’ve got a page folded up in my pocket here that you could use for reference. My hairdresser Polly was meant to do this for me but then you drove a hard bargain.”

He rummages through his pocket, pulling out the folded up page. You open it up and, instead of it being a photo of the rockstar, it’s a page that only had half of its lettering: missing agent…last…pale man…longlegs.

Too afraid to read into it, you flip the page around to the right side and resume your character. “You have the perfect cheekbones for this look.”

“Why thank you,” He smiles, eyes closed in contentment. “You sure they aren’t too much?”

“There’s no such thing as too much,” You lean beside his face, placing a wet open-mouthed kiss on his cheek that makes him gasp. “See? Full cheeks; the better to pepper kisses all over them.”

“All done with your hair. May I please do your makeup?”

“Yes, angel.”

You take the toy lipstick, smearing the tip over his already crimson-painted lips. You take an eyeshadow brush, hovering over the faded blue eyeshadow on his eyelids so as not to remove it from his face. Then, you pat a powder sponge over his face, smoothing over the white powder along his lumpy face.

“Gorgeous,” You whisper. “And last but not least, the dress.”

You work the laces of the dress and Dale stands quickly to turn and look away. It’s not as if you’d be fully naked. You’d be in your undergarments which were practically modest on their own.

Dale expects you to turn away but instead you walk over to him, pushing his robe down his shoulders. You place his hands in position to hook his fingers beneath his shirt, silently instructing him to worry about that task while you tug down his sweatpants and underwear.

“Not those!” He says wanting to retrieve his underwear but you stop him.

“You can wear mine, mommy.” You whisper, placing a wet kiss on his now-exposed hairy chest.

Dale shrugs the dress onto his body before you can take a glance at his stirring cock. His tall frame makes the dress hard to reach the ground but it is covered enough. You go into your drawers, retrieving cute cotton underwear with a frilly bow in the front, pulling them up his legs for him.

“So pretty, mommy.” You say in awe.

He beams, a tear streaming down his face as he felt as pretty as you said he is.

“So, so pretty,” You whisper, hand gliding up his inner thigh from beneath the frilly skirt of his dress. “Can I play with you now?”

Dale finds himself on your plastic bed not a moment later being ridden hard and rough by you. You bounce eagerly on his thick cock, after pushing the panties to the side and taking him raw inside of you. Every now and then, you’d pull him up by his dress and force him deeper into you. Whenever he’d try to pull back from being so overwhelmed by the intense feelings of pleasure, you slam down hard on him.

The wet sounds of squelching and skin slapping fill the room as you leave no room for him to breathe from your constricting walls. Your whines and pleas were like a beautiful symphony he’d love to hear on repeat. He was the loudest with his cries especially when he’s close and when he’d spurt rope after rope of his hot cum into your pussy.

His makeup is smeared and sloppy by your frequent kisses, your tongue basically slivering down his throat as if to consume him from within. You take his air each time as he gasps like a fish out of water from the prolonged make-out session, chest rising and falling rapidly to take in oxygen. You quickly steal it away from him with yet another pornographic kiss that he surrenders himself to.

And then there’s that pesky timer he’d set that rang long ago. Too far gone and drunk with lust and your tight pussy, he didn’t have the capacity to notice such a break in the schedule and you weren’t stopping to obey this order either.

You broke most of your rules yet consistently you continued to call him “mommy” in character even as you’d cream his cock for the 4th time that evening.

No doubt there would be a punishment in the reckless way you showed him how you handled your toys but for now you were going to use him until he broke. Just as he’d once broken you.

[crimsonxcloverr]

70s!dale x fem!reader

content/trigger warning: creeper dale, public sex, cnc, humiliation, fingering, oral (f! receiving), p in v, size kink??, praising

word count: 1726

a/n: i’m taking a break from my fic, and again it’s not finished! also hope it’s not cringe yucky! i will dale kobble myself. i only wrote this to make myself feel better! so enjoy this hehe.

GET IT ON

your throat was sore and raw from all the screaming and singing as you push past people in the crowded arena, marc bolan and t. rex continue the performance as the room began to overwhelm you. you eventually make it outside and adjust your skirt while walking to the concession stands.

“cuckoo.”

you turn around and see a rather tall man with a botched face approaching you, his attire evident that he was enjoying the t.rex concert as well.

“and who’s this pretty little angel?” he giggles trying to catch up to get a better glimpse. “you really are sight for sore eyes, mhmm. what’s your name?”

“none of your business,” you mumble making your way to the stand that seemed further away than usual due to this creep on your ass.

“you were at the concert, right? i saw you walk out,” he says looking you up and down while walking next to you. “you having fun?”

“yes.” you sigh as you wait in line watching the man dig in his jean pocket. he pulls his wallet out and gives you a smile as you look up at him.

"good… that’s good, i like that. i’d hate to see a pretty angel like you not have fun,” he pauses for a moment and giggles, “y’know, i had gigs a few times in this same arena, some people even know me around here. i even have a gig here next week,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone while he nods and smiles.

you look at him and scoff, completely taken off guard watching him hold some cash as he waits next to you. “no kidding.” this guys wasn’t half bad, glamrockers were your thing. “what’s your name, anyways?”

“ah, ah. i asked you first,” he giggles again, booping your nose and watching you crinkle it under his touch.

“y/n.”

“y/n,” he repeats testing your name out on his tongue, his finger now on his chin as if he were in deep thought. “i love it. i’m dale, my precious angel.”

he gives you a rather big smile and you couldn’t help but give him a smile back, his energy comforting in an odd way. you both get to the front of the line and dale kindly pays for your water, the two of you walking to a secluded spot.

“did you need anything?” you ask wondering why he even followed you out in the first place when he could be enjoying the show.

“no, i didn’t need anything. i just wanted to chat with you, that’s all.”

he chugs his beer and throws it out in the trash next to you, walking away down a dark corridor without saying a word. he whistles as he walks with his hands behind his back, but his whistling is loud, a sign he clearly wants you to follow. or so you thought. you let out a sigh and throw your empty cup out before following his lanky frame down the hall.

dale pauses and turns, stunned to see you following. “well what’s this?” he grins and his blue eyes burn through you.

“oh, i thought-“

“you thought what?” he steps closer to you and backs you up against the wall. “you thought i wanted you to follow, didn’t you, you silly goose?”

he clearly fooled you on purpose just to see if you’d follow, his little scheme working. his finger brushes against your cheek and your breathing begins to pick up, someone exiting a side door catches you both off guard. “oh, hey dale!” they say giving him a wave. dale gives them a nod and wave in return watching them as they walk away. he looks back at you and shakes his head.

“you keep following me around like this, someone might think you’re a groupie,” he whispers as his hand travels down to your shirt, his index finger teasingly pulling at the v cut to see what you’re hiding in there. “although, the thought is enticing… my personal groupie, a little stage angel perched up on my speaker, how would that sound?”

you have no words, but your body is doing the talking. you can feel wetness gathering in your panties as he talks. dale can see it in your face that you want this as much as he does, but in a public setting? no way, but you were too stunned to move, too horny not to walk away. his hand slides down your body and towards your skirt, his eyes on yours as he stares at you from under his eyebrows.

“you like this, don’t you?” he whispers in your ear, his fingers wiggling inside the waistbands of your skirt and stockings. he scoffs when he gets to the waistband of your panties. “so many layers hiding that pretty pussy…”

he manages to get past your panties and he lets out a mocking gasp, a soft moan coming from you when his slender fingers play with your wetness.

“you do like this, my angel,” he chuckles while rubbing your clit, his curls dangling in your face as he towers over you. “was it the groupie talk? hm? me wanting you perched up on the speaker really got you going, didn’t it?”

you nod unable to form words as he now starts to finger you. you can’t help but bury your face into his chest to hide your moans as people left the show and pile in the lobby. his scent turns you on even more, the smell of cigarettes, light fabric softener, and patchouli filling your nostrils. you moan louder as his slender fingers play with your sweet spot, dale letting out a chuckle and keeping a look out for prying eyes.

“you always get this wet for strangers? or just knock off versions of marc bolan?” he teases clearly making fun of you for getting fingered by a complete stranger. “turn around.”

you watch as he sucks his fingers before turning and pressing your face against the cold wall, dale crouching behind you and folding your skirt up, tucking the fabric into your waist band to keep it up.

“dale,” you hiss as people walk towards the bathroom fifteen feet away from you both. your attention breaks away from them when he tears your stockings open. “hey!”

“ooo,” he moans as he sees the sight before him. “let’s see what you’ve been hiding under theses…”

you squirm some more as he pulls down your panties and spreads your asscheeks to get a view of your pussy from behind. dale lets out a deep groan and immediately buries his face into you, his nose pressing against your asshole as he laps over your soaked cunt. sloppy wet sounds fill the corridor as he eats you, his tongue making your legs weak.

“please,” you whimper as dale begins tongue fucking you, your eyes still keeping a look out as humiliation bubbles up inside you, but the pleasure was just too good.

he groans and keeps your asscheeks spread, trying to push his tongue deeper into you the best he could. he pulls away and sucks your lips while doing so, giving your clit a few licks.

“as juicy as a peach,” he whispers wiping your juices off his face. he gives your ass a slap and stands, his hard bulge pressing against you. “i have a surprise for you,” he giggles.

you hear him taking off his belt and unzipping his fly, his movements and the sounds coming from him told you all you need to know. you gasp softly as he roughly pulls your hips towards him, dale running the tip of his fat cock up and down your pussy, teasing you and preparing you for the massive stretch. he presses his tip at your entrance and immediately puts his hand over your mouth, the girth of his fat cock making you scream in both pleasure and pain.

“that’s it, my little groupie,” he grunts in your ear, his hand still covering your mouth as he thrusts nice and deep into you. “let me fill you up…”

he grips your hair and makes your back arch more, your moans and groans vibrating against his hand. his cock repeatedly hits your sweet spot and cervix, the feeling making your stomach tighten and your legs want to give out. you felt yourself getting closer, your pussy squeezing around him tightly making him grunt.

“god-fuck! you keep squeezing, i’m gonna fill you up before you can finish,” he growls in your ear as his hips collide against your ass. “relax that pussy…”

you moan and shake your head trying to buck him off as people were in line, still oblivious to what was happening. you wanted him to make you cum so bad, his size was something you never had before. you bounce against him trying to speed up the process and he moves his hand from your hair down to your tit, squeezing it and enjoying how full and squishy it is.

your orgasm gets closer and closer and your moans grow louder as dale pounds into you. you were getting sore from the pounding, but you squeeze even tighter and his cock twitches inside you. he pushes in once more and it triggers you both to cum, your tight throbbing cunt milking him as he pushes his cock deeper. he keeps his hand over your mouth as he pulls out, you still moaning and panting from the aftershock and your legs start to shake.

“you did so well for me,” he praises softly while removing his hand from your mouth, “i think next week you come to my gig at six, except before the show, i eat that pretty pussy while you sit on the speaker, how’s that?” he whispers while pulling your panties up and tearing your torn stockings away from your body.

“okay,” you reply, helping him tear the stockings from your body. you pull your skirt back down and turn to look at him.

“most girls tap out, but you did so well,” he coos while tucking his cock back into his leopard printed underwear and fixing his pants. “i’ll see you again, my little stage angel.”

he gives you a wink and nudges your jaw gently with his fist before walking off into the crowded lobby of fangirls and wanna be rockstars.