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vilsoo · 7 months ago

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‎ 𝑽𝑰𝑳𝑺𝑶𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑺…

‎ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 ‎ ‎ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧… 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫!

‎ 𖤐 ORDER YOUR TICKETS HERE 𖤐 ‎ ֺ [ taglist ]

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘; 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘… Inspired by Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights, indulge in sex and horror galore at our premiere Kinktober event, HORRORLAND! Would you dare venture our haunted houses, experience our exhilarating attractions, and uncover the scandalous, deadly mysteries of Horrorland?

fandoms: jujutsu kaisen, spiderman atsv, fnaf, re4, codmw2.

𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

ㅤ ↓ 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 (𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓) ↓

FRIDAYS🩸 we welcome our fellow monster fuckers into this territory! deadly creatures preying on their victims, serving their lustful fantasies with wild, animalistic urges! your arousal and fear may provoke them further, so beware of the woods…

𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟒𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ❞ starring GHOST!LEON KENNEDY (re4)

who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead… and ghosts?

⚠︎ CW: mentions of stalking, slight ooc leon, angst, hurt/comfort, haunted vacation home, voyeurism, paranormal activity, sex with a ghost, gentle → rough smut, mirror sex, switchy!leon, 1980s setting.

𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟏𝟖𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄 ❞ starring WEREWOLF!MIGUEL O’HARA (atsv)

during the bloodmoon on halloween, your werewolf boyfriend feels a rapacious urge to knock you up.

⚠︎ CW: established relationship, miguel in heat, rough sex, soft sex, marking, biting, possession, breeding, knotting, impregnating, degrading/praising, power struggle, multiple orgasms, 1980s setting.

𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟓𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 ❞ starring RYOMEN SUKUNA (jjk)

a camping trip you planned with your friends turns out to be a total nightmare, all caught on camera…

⚠︎ TW: suspense, horror/thriller themes, gruesome murder, gore, ritual sex, demon sex, satanism, sadism, betrayal, teratophilia, size kink, double penetration, plot twist, ib the blair witch project (1999), 1980s setting.

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SATURDAYS 🍷 the depths of hell fall on this dark and gloomy city bound to corruption and sin, known as the devil’s playground! lurking within the streets beholds the prurient reigns of terror that which may also arouse parkland guests…

𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟓𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ❞ starring NANAMI KENTO (jjk)

with you and your boyfriend being a regular at this fancy restaurant, the owner became very fond of you…

⚠︎ TW: cannibalism, chef/restaurant owner nanami, poisoning, murder, infidelity/cheating, eventual smut, kitchen sex, unprotected sex, jealousy, dark obsession, slight stalking, gore, mutilation.

𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟏𝟐𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 ❞ starring WILLIAM AFTON (fnaf)

as the new intern and your boss developing a dark obsession over you, he feels the need to corrupt you…

⚠︎ TW: dubcon, mind control (glitchtrap virus), sadism, murder, psychological abuse, manipulation, predator/prey dynamic, implied age gap, degradation, eventual rough smut, mentions of vanny mask.

𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟔𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐁𝐑𝐄 ❞ starring CHOSO (jjk)

accidentally bringing a girl back from the dead may have been horrifying, but falling in love with her..?

⚠︎ CW: horror/romcom themes, implied necrophilia (NO intercourse), college au, accidental ritual, romance, mentions of murder, suggestive smut, inspired by lisa frankenstein (2024) and corpse bride (2005).

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FOR OUR HALLOWEEN SPECIAL . . . not only are you immersed into the stories of our attractions, you get the real experience of being a parkland guest having a fun time at Horrorland with friends! but as thrilling as it all sounds, there are many scandals and articles of what really goes down…

𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟑𝟏: ❝ 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓, 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋? ❞ HEADLINE: PARKLAND VISITOR CAUGHT HAVING INTERCOURSE WITH A SCARE ACTOR!

flirting has become a common fear response when encountering hot masked scare actors chasing you at halloween events. this scandal covers a parkland visitor fawning over the hot scare actor in the Deathgasm haunted house, König, resulting in them flirting and sneaking off together…

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⚠︎ 𝐁𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬. 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. ⚠︎

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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐎 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. please do not steal my kinktober prompts/works/themes! reposting any of my works outside tumblr that minors can access is strictly prohibited. will be cross posted on my ao3 soon.

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 8 months ago

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It's all fun and games until...

[Commission for @dontheckinswear]

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #madam qin #jin guangyao #I hope your bookclub enjoys this one! Shout out to the bookclubbers. The readers.#Thank you again for the commission! This was a delightfully dark-but-funny prompt to work on.#The whole situation is twisted in every single direction...but also shout out to Madam Qin for dropping this bomb right before the wedding.#JGY also realizing that he can't cancel the wedding without putting Qin Su at risk for shame and condemnation.#The world is hard for women. Even harder for single mothers.#And sure there is the politics element but let me believe that in the moment his heart was on her safety and happiness.#This blog is a 'qin-su should be happy' zone. I still have that transmigration to SVSSS AU to draw out one day....#Or return to the Band Au. Why did I make so many AUs that I really want to keep continuing on?#If only I had limitless time and energy...If only.

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fatuismooches · 21 days ago

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Zandy speed-walking to your room wrapped in his blanket whenever he got nightmares wasn't anything new.

In the beginning, he felt guilty for bothering you in the middle of the night, but ever since you found out the child had bad dreams once in a while, you urged him to come find you no matter what time it was. Thankfully, they had significantly decreased since he met you, but there were still times he woke up scared and sweating, as if flames had nearly licked him. Admittedly, a part of him wished you could sleep in his room every day so it wouldn't happen, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to you.

At first, Zandy would knock on your door and wait for you to open before intruding, but eventually, you managed to convince him to just let himself in and onto your bed. During these instances, you'd wake up to the child cuddling to you, sometimes with Foxttore squished in between. It was healing for both of you. And tonight, Zandy thought as he tip-toed to your room, would be no different. Quietly twisting the doorknob and entering the room, he already felt a bit more at ease, especially at the sight of your silhouette. The boy walked to the bed and began to climb on it when suddenly a hand shot out to grab him, and he was faced with none other than fellow blood-red eyes.

Quickly, Zandy figured out the situation, when he noticed that you were actually on the other side of the bed, this person was none other than Prime Dottore which he didn't realize in the darkness, and that he had accidentally woken him up. It was only natural that Dottore would be woken up at the slightest noise - he had never been a deep sleeper.

But more importantly, the situation had turned awkward once Dottore had removed his grip from the boy, realizing it was just him. Immediately, Zandy tried to shuffle off the bed - he and Prime had been on way better terms lately, no longer being ignored, which was wholly thanks to you - but he was still hesitant to interact without you. But Dottore wasn't going to let him off that easy of course.

"... What are you doing here?" The boy's eyes nervously flitted from your sleeping body to Prime, hoping you'd wake up to get him out of the situation.

"W-Well..." Zandy's voice came out louder than he wanted, "I wanted to... to..." he then drifted off as he tried to think of a reasonable excuse. He could tell Dottore wasn't particularly impressed, moving to get up when suddenly a new voice entered the conversation.

"Zandik, what's wrong?" You yawned as you began to sit up in bed. "Usually, you aren't this noisy when you're sneaking off to go do work instead of sleep-" You stopped your sentence slowly and rubbed your eyes, as you now realized someone else was in the room too. "Zandy? Is that you?"

"Yes..."

"Another nightmare again? Poor thing, come here," you cooed, stretching your arms open. Dottore remained silent but quickly pieced together what happened. Well, it made an awful lot of sense - you somehow always managed to be soothing after experiencing the terrors of the mind. He too remembers the times he rested his chest on your chest after his own nightmares. Logically, when the scholar thinks about it, his child segment's nightmares were probably similar to his too.

However, Zandy didn't seem very certain of the idea anymore, more interested in heading out the door. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before you quickly remembered that Dottore was likely causing his hesitation.

"There's no need to be shy. You can stay, we don't mind," you said softly, moving to the edge of the bed and grabbing both his hands. "Right, Zandik?"

"... Go ahead. There's only a few more hours until I get up, anyway."

"See? Now come here." With only a bit of persuasion, the child was in between the two of you. Well, he was mostly attached to you while Dottore was just on the other side, but it was still sweet. You gently patted Zandy's head as you began yawning again, sleepiness still coursing through you. At that, Dottore pulled up the covers, making sure you (and the child) were warm.

"Good night, Zandy, Zandik..."

"Good night, [Name]... fa-" The word quickly softened and dried up on the boy's lips as he realized that he was still not brave enough for that yet. Zandy swiftly shut his eyes and willed his body to sleep as fast as possible.

A little while later, after Dottore was sure you both had dozed off, he sighed at the sight that was mostly covered in darkness, but he could still make out his child self's body wrapped by your larger one... as well as the rather wide and palpable gap in between his and his segment's.

Briefly turning over, the Harbinger glanced at the time. It would be time for him to return to his work soon, this break only a haven you begged to grant him. Dottore looked back at you, reaching out to caress your cheek, letting out another sigh. He moved his body closer, to where his own was only a little bit from touching Zandy's, and then wrapped a protective arm over you, and by extension, the child.

He would be gone soon enough, anyway - this wouldn't hurt for now.

It was moments like this that made what the future held hurt even more.

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #zandy bb <3 #dottore x reader #this is inspired by how my friend sent a tiny kitten in the dark at the door and was like #“this is zandy when he has a nightmare and goes to reader n dottore for comfort and gets cuddles w them”#i love and hate how everything i write has to turn out long #LIKE THIS WAS ONLY MEANT TO BE A FEW PARAGRAPHS #divider by cafekitsune

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polydeuces · 3 months ago

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𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚎: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯 ; Dexter Morgan x Fem! Reader (Cult Leader)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ; You linger in Dexter Morgan’s shadows, close enough to feel the darkness he hides so well. You know his secrets, his rituals, the thrill he keeps hidden from the world. Silently, you wait for that perfect moment to step into his path—so he can finally see that he’s been hunted all along.

𝔠𝔴 / 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 ; (688words) mentions of cults, stalking, potential violence, intrusive thoughts, and elements of psychological tension.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

He was supposed to be the predator.

You’d watched him for a year now, the man who walked through the world with an all too familiar blend of invisibility and quiet command. Dexter Morgan, a blood–spatter analyst by day and something far more dangerous by night. But those were his surface-level disguises. You’d begun to peel back the layers, unraveling the nuances of a man who navigated life in the shadows, just as you have for so many years now.

It started innocently enough—fleeting moments when you’d caught sight of him on the crowded Miami streets, merging into the sea of faces like he belonged there. But you knew better. You knew what it was to wear masks, to walk amoung people undetected, unseen and unnoticed. There was something about him, the way he looked at the world, made him all the more intriguing.

So you watched. Carefully, hidden, with a patience you’d honed over years of practice, you observed him as he slipped out of his office at night, slightly tense in his gaze, focused, distant, as if he were listening to something only he could hear. Often times, you’d follow him to the places he frequented; his home, abandoned warehouses, places where the thin line between light and darkness blurred. You learned his routines, the way he’d pull his signature black gloves onto his hands, the way his eyes would sweep across the streets with a meticulous attention to detail before stepping into his own hidden rituals.

It fascinated you.. his dance, this performance between worlds. His life was a careful balance of precision and secrecy. And then there were his victims. You’d seen him work, watched from the edges as he sized up those he deemed worthy enough. You hadn’t intervened— after all, it wasn’t about them. It was about him. You needed to understand his purpose, what drove him and what rulebook or code tethered him to this life.

You began to study his life beyond the night as well, picking up pieces of Dexter Morgan, the man, the father, the blood-spatter analyst, the widower, the mask. You’d slip into his world unnoticed, lingering at places he went during the day; you listened to his colleagues, his sister and the casual comments that painted a picture of someone, friendly, yet distant, the “nice guy” who kept to himself.

You learned his patterns, his preferences, even the small, old habits he indulged in when he thought no one was watching. You uncovered the Dexter he showed to the world, the façade that kept his true nature hidden.

But you could see it��the subtle tension in his jaw, the guarded look in his eyes that surfaced when someone got too close, the small tells of a hidden life. The knowledge inside you—the kind of intimacy that was both exhilarating and forbidden—you knew him in a way no one else did, knew him not by the lies he told, but by the silence he kept.

So, you kept waiting, biding your time. You wanted him to know that he been seen, that he wasn’t as invisible as he thought. You wanted him to understand that he was no longer the only one who lived by a code of shadows. You watched him for countless nights—slipping in and out of his world like a phantom, leaving a sense of unease that you knew would begin to gnaw at him.

Until finally, one night, you decided it was time.

do not repost/duplicate on other sites. © polydeuces 2024.

note; i have a taglist open for updates on this story—just let me know if you’d like your name added !

important; please keep in mind that the dexter character is not my own original creation; it’s inspired by the work of the creators behind the tv show.

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cherryblooom · 1 month ago

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2XL — OP81 [ part 2 ]

Summary: You are a young artist who gained a lot of popularity at the ripped age of 14 due to your talent and unusual style. Your body is considered "voluminous" so, in public, you only use 2XL clothing, to protect yourself from people on the internet and feel more comfortable while performing. You have managed to keep your personal life outside the spotlight but when Oscar finally made it to the glamorous lifestyle of motorsports, everything changed.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

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Fic warning: best friends to lovers, kinda slow burn, slut shaming, weird people on the internet, people commenting about a minor's body, panic attack, body image, reader battles with her self-esteem, self-image, and self-love, Oscar is obsessed with his girlfriend and her body (not in a creepy way) and is not afraid of showing it, I hate Karly and will too lol

Faceclaim: Billie Eilish

Note: Oscar is a year older than the reader. SMAU mixed with narrative. Reader doesn't have that much access to social media right now as they are mostly controlled by their management. Some K-pop artist will show up 'cause why not? lol

You knew you were tearing apart your suitcase, crumpling everything in your path, even a dark blue dress your mother bought in hopes you would wear, but you threw it on the floor without any concern. That dress was the least of your problems now.

“Please, please, come on… there must be another one. Where is it?” At that moment, you were almost on the verge of a panic attack, and not being able to control it anymore, you felt the tears start to come.

You had your manager on your heels, people on social media looking for the tiniest detail to take you down, a whole crew ready to film the entire event to interview you afterwards, and on top of that you were on day two of your period, in pain that you could only describe as hell itself – could it get any worse? Oh, of course it can be worse. You’re a teenager, which means your body is constantly changing. You had to be on stage in about 30 minutes and you had no underwear, or to be more specific, all the bras you had in your suitcase didn’t fit. It’s not a secret that your breasts were one of your most striking attributes (and you try to hide them as much as you can) and you swore that they were getting bigger every day. With each passing day, you began to hate your body. The bras you have now were too small for you and even if you tried to put them on, all you could feel was the underwires digging into your sensitive bust and you couldn’t even think about walking or jumping.

''Yn, what are you doing on the floor?'' Karly, your manager for 2 years, entered the room. ''And you're not even ready! Come on, it's almost 7:00 p.m. and the show is about to start.''

''I can't. I-I don't know what happened, but none of my bras fit and they're so uncomfortable. I'm on my period and I think my breasts have grown and…''

''And what do you want me to do? Honey, I don't have another bra you can wear, at least not in your size. But why did you pack them if you knew they wouldn't fit?''

''I didn't pack them! I was going to, and you told me we didn't have time, and you'd bring me my suitcase later, and now none of them fit.''

''Look, how about you try wearing one and practice here?'' your manager said, and you heard an edge to her voice. She was upset, and it only made you feel smaller, like this was all your fault.

“I tried! I tried wearing one but it doesn’t work. I can’t even breathe without the wires digging into my bust and it just hurts,” you cried. You were upset and frustrated. This day should have been special because of the big show that awaited you outside, but it was turning into a nightmare.

''Oh my god. Yn, what do you want me to do? What can I do? Should I go out and tell your fans and the filming crew that we need to cancel the show because your bra doesn't fit you? You wouldn't want that, would you?'' she said, and you felt like crying more. She knelt down in front of you and held your hands as she rubbed her thumb against your skin. ''Honey, I know it's not easy, but we can't turn back now and even if we could, we'd have to tell everyone the reason for the cancellation and you wouldn't want that, right? Imagine the headlines'' You shook your head. No, you didn't want that. You don't want to disappoint your fans and give the media another reason to hate you and tear you apart.

—That’s what I thought. I know it’s hard, but just try, okay? I’ll have to double-check something with the film crew. Stay here and I’ll come get you when it’s time for you to go on stage.'' That was the last thing she said before leaving you alone.

You tried again with a black bra, the largest one in the suitcase, and began to practice one of your songs, but with each breath the wires sank even further.

"Fuck, damn it!"

Officially, you were panicking. There were about 25 minutes left, and you had no idea what the hell to do, at this point you couldn't even breathe, you were starting to choke, and your vision was blurry from tears.

The first thing Oscar heard when the call connected was your crying on the other end of the line and his heart broke into pieces. He didn't like hearing you like that.

''Honey, I need you to take a deep breath. Just close your eyes and breathe. Don't worry about anything but breathing.''

''I c-can't. I can't breathe and my chest hurts, and Karly is coming for me in 20 minutes and…''

''I know it's difficult, but honey, I need you to close your eyes and breathe. I don't want you to think about anything but breathing. I'll be there for you very soon, I promise.''

''No, no, please don't hang up, please…''

''No, my love, I will never do that. I want you to put your head between your knees, take a deep breath, and I need you to hold it for 3 seconds before you let it go, okay? Can you do that for me, pumpkin?

There were a few moments of silence where Oscar was worried, but when he heard you take deep breaths as he had instructed and your crying faded, he calmed down. It wasn't very common for you to have panic attacks, but that means it must be something very serious for you to have one.

''That's it. You're doing great, babygirl. Are your hands still shaking?''

''N-no''

''Perfect. I'm so proud of you, doll, you did amazing. Now please, tell me what happened?'' Oscar asked and after answering him, he couldn't help but feel the rage forming in his chest. He never liked Karly and, if it was up to him, she would have been fired months ago. ''Oh, baby, that's horrible and no, it's not your fault and you're not throwing a tantrum. You shouldn't go on stage if you're not feeling well and Karly is the one who should take care of things like that, but she didn't. It's not your fault. Don't worry, I'll fix it, okay? I promise.''

''But, how-...?''

''Just to trust me. My mom will be there with you in about 5 minutes, okay? And I'll arrive before you have to go on stage. Leave that to me. You trust me?''

''I do, I trust you''

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dailyop81 Oscar was seen today leaving a Victoria Secret's store afer he went to a Dior one, all of this before attending YN LN's concert. For whom do you think these gifts are for?

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twicetagram so proud of you girlyy! @ ynusername

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Radio Check: Part 2! I'm really excited how this story is turning out; I hope you guys are loving it as much I am.

For the news, I tried to make it like a real blog, let me know if you like it or if you would like me to keep doing it that way!

Tagged list: @xivilivix @multifan-idk @newlifeforus @diorbrxtz @vroomvroomcircuit

If you want to be tagged, just let me know and reblog if you liked it!

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ccazimi · 7 days ago

Text

Nightingale (pt. 4)

Read pt. 3

CW: stepcest, noncon, partial p in v, choking/breathplay, dacryphilia, namecalling (sweetheart, cockslut, etc.), degradation, dirty talking, sadism, cock worship, blowjob, throat/facefucking, cumplay (?), lmk if i missed anything else

WC: 3.5k

a/n: please! pay attention to the warnings! i'm gonna proofread this tmr so excuse any mistakes... also i think this miniseries will have one more part as the last one

“I’ll make it up to you.”

You hate those stupid words that he’d uttered because now you can’t get them out of your head.

With bated breaths and timid glances you sneak at him you wait patiently, wondering if he really meant what he said.

Those stupid words that kept you yearning in a way that was unfamiliar to you- if not to feel his tongue or his touch again then that damned toy he’d used on you.

The orgasm it gave you kept you up for nights, only heightened when you thought of him using it on you.

But Sukuna had been working long hours lately, and you had no idea how to even bring this up to him- as if you would, even if you knew how.

Amidst your thoughts being infected with him, you somehow didn’t feel the want to go on anymore dates. You gave excuses- that you were busy with schoolwork or that your parents were strict, because the truth was gross.

You wanted your perverted stepbrother to fuck you, use you, make you feel good in ways that had you questioning your sanity. That he’s tainted you till the point you get wet when he calls you his little sister.

These days disgust and discomfort are hard to differentiate from want and dark desires.

Still, you wondered if something had shifted in your dynamic with him since that night. He seemed a bit less antagonistic these days the few times you saw him, still teasing and taunting but in a more playful manner, and you felt yourself easing up with his presence, like you weren’t a stranger in your own home whenever he was around.

Any amiability came to a stand still not even a week later, when the situation regarding your finances came up.

Maybe it partially arose from the fact the Mr. Itadori had stepped up in his paternal role, happily offering to pay for your expenses including your college tuition. It was no secret that he was smitten with you, maybe because having a daughter was a nice change after raising two sons his whole life.

Even this would still be fine if he didn’t make Sukuna - the only other earning man in the household - pay for your expenses as well.

You insisted otherwise but Mr. Itadori was set on making his older show up for you, perhaps thinking this would show him how to act or how to be a real brother to you.

And that’s how you arrived with Sukuna having to pay your credit card bill, which clearly pissed him off to no end.

“Seventy-eight thousand yen?! Are you fucking serious?”

You stood awkwardly in the doorway of Yuuji and Sukuna’s shared room, feeling guilty enough as it was going up to him and asking him if he could pay your bill since Mr. Itadori told you to go to him for it.

Honestly, you’d try to postpone this meeting for as long as you could but your bill was due very soon.

“It was over the course of one whole month, okay?” You reply defensively, thinking you’d actually done a decent enough job budgeting this month.

Sukuna’s lip curls in irritation as he looks up from the statement to glare at you. “You don’t fucking get it do you? Spoiled fucking brat, you’ve just had everything handed to you your whole life.”

His words sting, like they always do. You’re tired of hearing this same tirade from him over and over again- and to act like he knows you or whatever the hell your life was like?

It grates your nerves.

“Don’t act like I’m the problem just because you’re miserable.” You finally spit back.

“You are the fucking problem, you just enter our fucking lives and start leeching off of us.” He seethes, creases etched into his face that’s twisted in anger. “Getting coddled like you’re a damn toddler while the rest of us actually have to work.”

“I’m a full time student, you know this!” You step closer, done bowing your head and putting up with his bullshit. “And you have no right to act like you’re a fucking saint just because you have a job, after all the things you’ve done to me.”

You despise the way your voice breaks just a bit after you hiss out the last part, the way his expression contorts with something mocking, condescending.

He scoffs. “Done to you, huh? You keep playing this card like you don’t fucking love it,” He leans closer, “Like you don’t fall apart under my touch as if it’s the only good thing that’s ever happened to you. I bet you even fuck yourself on your fingers at night pretending they’re mine, don’t you?”

Sukuna watches you try to hold yourself together and keep your composure as you stubbornly deny him what both of you know is the truth, acutely aware of how close he was and that glint in his eyes. “I don’t. You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“Sweetheart, you’d probably get on the floor and do it in front of me right now if I asked you to.” He smirks. “If I promised you I’d make you feel so good, if you did. You don’t have nearly as much shame as you pretend to.”

You push down the lump in your throat, fingers curling inwards and unfurling again as you’re rudely reminded of the situation you’d been dealing with this whole fucking week, how even now your craving mind wonders if this is an offer.

“Make me feel good….how?” You murmur under your breath, heat seeping through your body and across your cheeks as you look down and away from his face and towards the long fingers that were pumping inside you.

You’re ridiculously horny for him.

He laughs, a callous sound that rips through and yanks you out of your stupor.

“God, you were really fuckin’ gonna do it, weren’t you? Pathetic bitch.” He sneers.

Tears of resentment, anger, and humiliation prick at your eyes and before they have a chance to fall your hand is suddenly flying through the air and slapping him squarely across the face.

“Fuck you, fuck, I wish you’d never entered my fucking life!” You yell, hating how your hit seemingly does nothing to him, or that sleazy grin on his face. “No wonder your mom left, it was probably because of you, her fucked up shit-show of a son.”

Whatever mirth lingered on his expression quickly disappears as his face hardens.

You know you’ve crossed a line, even before he stands at his full height reminding you of just how much bigger and stronger he was then you.

You’re still angry and honestly it felt good spewing that venom at him, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling something new right now like cold water in your veins.

It turns icier when he smiles again, the kind of smile that signals you should leave now.

“Maybe you’re right. Wanna see how much of a ‘fucked up shit show of a son’ she gave birth to?” He prowls closer, agonizingly slow as you continue to back further and further away until you’re near his door.

You really shouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation while the only other person at home was Mr. Itadori who was contentedly asleep in the living room sofa while the tv plays loudly in the background.

Finally you swivel around, though you know it’s pointless.

You’ve played this game before- Sukuna will always be bigger, stronger, faster.

And just like that he’s in front of you, shoving you away from the door as a condemning click tells you there’s no getting out of this now.

It alarms you, enough that you’re leaping across the small expanse of the room, though you know it won’t do anything, confirmed by a tight grasp around your wrist before you’re shoved face first into the dark covers of his single bed.

It all happens so fast, you feel the immovable weight of him above you as you struggle uselessly and panicked tears are wet on your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry Sukuna, I didn’t mean it—”

His hand is around your throat in an instant, pressing the air out of your words as he pushes your head back till your neck is straining. “Shut up, just shut the fuck up. You had it fucking coming.”

You stop trying to fight back, with both wrists held together behind your back in just one of his hands and another that could choke you out at any time, you were only just wasting your energy.

He leans in, breath hot and humid as it ghosts across your ear. “I really held out on this, you know. But you’ve pushed your luck too far this time…”

A sickly feeling curdles in your gut when he shifts so you can feel the hardness in his pants, rubbing along the curve of your ass. “So let me show you what a mean older brother I can be.”

Your breath turns shaky as you feel him undo his pants, shifting around to free his erection before crudely yanking your own bottoms and panties down, just enough that you can feel air brush against your exposed ass and cunt. “No, no, no, I’m not ready Sukuna, please you c-cant,”

His fingers tighten back up around your trachea, the uncomfortable pressure and your anxiety letting only a scant amount of oxygen to make it to your lungs.

“I can, and I will. Besides, you were ready that night, huh? Just to lose it to some random guy you barely even knew, if it came to it.”

You feel it then, the hot and leaking tip of his cock rubbing against your pussy. You try to swallow but you can’t. You want to yell, say something, anything, but not a single word can make its way up your squeezed throat.

“Oh fuck, you’re wet.” He chuckles lightly, exhaling audibly as his cock slides further into your lubricated folds, sliding it back and forth in your slick. “You like this or something? Is this turning you on? God, you might just be as ‘fucked up’ as me…”

His grip loosens slightly on your throat, allowing you with some much needed air as you find yourself getting even more worked up, despite the fear and bitterness that boiled in you.

Your stomach tightens when you feel him stop his movements to prod his tip against your entrance. “St-stop Sukuna, I won’t be able to take it,” You whisper as fresh tears fall, “You’ll tear me up.”

“Just take a deep breath.” He says flatly, not a hint of concern in his voice. “Or don’t, I don’t really care either way.”

He presses himself further into you, and you can already feel the pain gathering as he’s barely even inserted himself.

“No-”

Your cry of protest turns into a wincing gasp as he pushes himself further into you, just the tip of him forcing its way past your entrance.

“Oh shit, you’re tight,” He groans.

It hurts. A painful burn that felt like you were being ripped open as he tries to inch himself deeper into you.

Your body’s tensed in pain, breath labored while you let out feeble whimpers as tears stream and stream, trying to just get through it, remembering how you were always told that there would be pleasure after the initial pain.

Even if it doesn’t seem like this pain would ever be worth it.

He can’t honestly be more than an inch in, but you feel him stop moving.

He’s looking at you.

A second passes before he sighs. “Fuck.”

And with that there’s another sudden burst of pain before it’s gone all together and you realize he’s pulled himself out of you.

His hand leaves your throat, relief flooding your veins when you feel his weight lift off you.

As soon as you can, you quickly turn over, harshly pulling your own pants up to see he’s already tucked himself back in as well.

You scoot farther away from him on his bed until your back is to the wall.

He’s looking down at you with a scornful look of frustration with a gaze that makes you feel small before finally breaking the silence. “Get on the ground. You’re gonna have to make me cum another way.”

“Wh-what?”

“Are you dumb? Get down and on your knees. Now.”

You do as he says, slipping off the edge of his bed and slowly lowering yourself till he knots a hand in your hair and pushes down on your hear till you’re at his crotch level.

“And take off your top.”

You hesitate.

It doesn’t make sense for you to be shy about this, especially after everything else.

You swallow and grab your shirt by the hem to pull it up over the top of your head before pausing and looking up at him.

“Don’t make me fucking say it.”

Well, at least you tried your luck.

Slowly you unclasp your bra and take off the straps before throwing it to the side to expose your bare chest to him.

Sukuna’s eyes roam over your tits as your nipples harden in exposure to the air and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“That’s what I like to see.” He hums before gripping your head tightly again to push you forcefully into the large bulge in his pants so that he can grind it on your face. “Feel that? You’re gonna take all of it down your dumb little throat and you’re gonna love every single second of it. Understand?”

Tears sting your eyes and your face burns in equal parts shame and arousal as you nod obediently.

“Say it. Haven’t I taught you how to use your words?”

“Y-yes, I understand.” The words come out muffled by his clothed erection pressed against your mouth.

He pulls away. “Strip me.”

For a second you pause before quickly getting to work, unable to look up at him in the eye as you do so.

You unbutton his jeans and pull them down, the outline of his hardened cock through the black boxers sucking the air out of your lungs. Your fingers brush against his skin as you hook them around the waistband and peel them down to release his swollen dick.

Your stomach coils again.

Maybe it’s just the angle but you swear it looks even bigger than last time, with a vein running around the underside that you hadn’t previously noticed.

There was no way in hell you could have possibly taken that thing inside you and survived.

“Look up at me.” He orders as he grasps his cock with one hand.

You tilt your chin, round tear eyes meeting the hungry ones above you, watching his pupils blow out even more when he slaps his blushed tip against your face, making you wince softly.

That wicked leer of his only grows, the one that always means bad news.

“Kiss it. Show me how much you love my cock.”

Your eyes widen slightly, laying your hands around the dark tattooed bands encircling the muscular tops of his thighs before placing a chaste kiss right on his slit.

“Ah, fuck,” He exhales as he rubs the leaking tip of his dick up against your lips, smearing the precum all over them like it’s lipgloss. “That’s a good girl. Keep this up and you might actually make up for before.”

You resist the urge to bite his dick off.

He taps his cock on your mouth. “Open up.”

You comply, entirely confused by how much you hated this, especially after what he’d just tried, yet found yourself just as desperately wanting to taste him.

He immediately begins to slide his length through your opened mouth, groaning at the contact against your wet tongue, continuing to go deeper and deeper till it was uncomfortable.

You try to fight your gag reflex from being triggered but it happens anyway, with something so long and large being pushed down your throat. You grip his thighs pathetically and try to push away from him as your throat convulses around his cock, trying to squeeze it out.

You’re offered no mercy because it only hardens his dick more, and with a cold laugh he harshly shoves your skull further down his length till your nose is pressed against his pelvis. “Oh come on, you’re being dramatic.”

Dramatic?

You can barely breathe, growing dizzy when he finally pulls out and peers down at you as you cough a bit and regain your breath.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you’re such a sensitive little thing, because fuck, it turns me on to see you all pathetic like this.” You wish you could ask him to be gentler but you know by now that there was a good chance he’d likely just do the opposite. So instead you wipe your tears and determinedly take his dick in your hand to put it into your mouth again- though this time not all the way.

Sukuna let’s you do this without shoving himself back down your throat, watching your face and fighting the urge to let out a moan as you swirl your tongue around his swollen tip.

You gaze up at him and he inhales sharply when you dig your tongue into the divot of his frenulum, dragging your soft tongue up from it over his tip, and back down his shaft again.

His breathing grows heavier, no longer able to fight the urge to thrust in and out of your warm, wet mouth in time with your motions and the way your tongue laves so sensually all over his dick. “Shit, you like this you little cockslut? You like sucking off your big brother?”

You moan around his dick without even thinking, and Sukuna grins again. “Wow, you really are messed up.” He rasps. “Now suck my balls like a good little slut, yeah?”

He pulls his wet length out of your messy mouth, smeared with precum and saliva. You hold his cock up and close your lips around his heavy scrotum, sucking and lapping gently at the soft flesh while you stroke his shaft with your hand.

The last restraints of his control begin to crumble at the sensation, at how fucking filthy you look like this. “Ah -fuck- god, you really are nothing more than my obedient little dog, huh? I can make you do -hah- whatever the fuck I want you to…”

His grip in your hair suddenly tightens and he pulls away to shove his cock through your parted lips, unable to control the urge to fuck your mouth any longer.

The pressure is sudden and before you can adjust he’s gripping your hair so tightly you feel pinpricks on your scalp. That pain is quickly overshadowed when he begins snapping his hips back and forth at a brutal pace.

You struggle to keep your mouth open while you try not to choke on the cock slamming into the back of your throat over and over again.

“Ah, shit, you pathetic, stupid, needy little thing. You’re -hah- really worth nothing more than being a -fuck- a cocksleeve for me to use.”

You don’t notice tears are falling again, running down your cheeks and only adding to the ness of spit dribbling obscenely down your chin from where he mercilessly thrusts in and out of your mouth.

It hurts, your jaw aches and you feel like you’re suffocating on his cock abusing your throat, hoping it won’t be long till he cums because you don’t think you can keep this up much longer.

And like your prayers have been answered, suddenly he snaps his dick all the way out of your mouth and jerks it above your face before cumming with a hiss, ropes of thick hot cum spurting out and painting your whole face white. They keep coming for a few seconds more, and by the time he’s down you feel the viscous fluid dripping lewdly down your face.

He pants, eyes drinking in the sight of you kneeling with cum all over your face, and it almost makes his dick harden again. “God, you look perfect right now, sis.”

You can barely look up at him, thinking it would’ve been a lot less degrading for him to just cum down your throat than this.

Sukuna furrows his brows in mock confusion. “Where’s your gratitude? Show some thanks and lick that shit up like a properly trained mutt.”

You don’t even think, just moving automatically to swipe your fingers in the semen drying on your face, and sucking them clean. He watches you do it over and over till of it is gone into your stomach, and you look expectantly up at him.

He’s tucked himself back in, reaching forward to pet the top of your head. “Good girl. I guess you’ve earned me paying your bill, huh?”

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icyblogs · 2 months ago

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sigh still on my brokeback mountain thinking thonks. this time a rift off of ghostprice. poor little you- set to marry Price. then the summer before the ceremony hits, and he comes back .. different. you two get married- practically pushed onto the older man from your family. he doesn’t open up to you- not like he ever has before anyway- so you continue to be as good as wife as you could be. naive, young- too inexperienced to know otherwise of what was happening outside your relationship.

eventually the first year passes, when you finally meet this ‘Mr. Riley’ your husband has mentioned in passing. he was his fishing partner. it was laughable really, when you first met the man. a fishing partner? more like a rabid dog, taller and broader than your husband as he stares you down opposite of the table. calculating. expectant. knowing. and when John finally tells you later that he was spending the night, was it ever a surprise when that night turned into two? two into three- and then you’re shackled, stuck as you’re thrust into a relationship that you never wanted. is it really a surprise when your ankle grows brittle with the cuff cutting into it. is it a surprise when you’re meat- a feast for the two men to sink their teeth into? a delicacy, tender flesh that blossoms so beautifully when touched.

you should have known better to ever let him into your home. after all, give a stray a bone, and it’ll never want to leave.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #captain john price #john price #cod 141 #task force 141 #ghost x price #ghost x price x reader #idk i think im just spouting nonsense at this point #but in the movie when he comes into their home ???#ugh imagine #yeah this wouldn’t be as angsty if written #definitely dark me thinks but holy guacamole it has a chokehold on me #sighs woefully #something something ghost only takes your ass as price still has his martial duty ):

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year ago

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OH SAY LESS 14 WITH ASTARION PLEASE

so this is my first time publicly writing and posting astarion, so please be gentle. higher word count solely because i felt the need to add lore because, ya know, first time writing him! also, i changed the line just a tiny bit to better fit the character and scene. ALSO, uh... this is a little fade to black. i'm sorry. it just got too long.

14. "Oh, you're hard to please."

warnings: foreplay, sorta fade to black smut (it's there if you squint your eyes), an ungodly amount of pet names, mentions of past sexual abuse and healing from it, technical game spoilers, not edited, 18+ so minors do not interact

pairings: astarion x afab!reader (no pronouns used)

wc: 4.4k+

join the smutty party! send me one of these smut dialogue prompts with a character

How long had it been since Astarion had actually enjoyed sex? Craved it, even?

If he recalls correctly, it had to have started to become tainted well over a century ago. Somewhere between the first and the third victim, when he’d realized how every single beautiful soul he had entrapped were simply being lured to their own death. And then, the sour taste left in his mouth only became more pungent the longer it went on, the more he came to the realization of just how used he felt. His body was no longer his own – it technically hadn’t been his from the very second he’d emerged from his own grave, and Cazador had been waiting for him – and everything about the act became an old rehearsed dance that he’d grit his teeth through. A chore, something to make his stomach churn, something to regret. A means to an end.

Plainly put, it had been a while.

But then you happened. You, who hadn’t blinked an eye when the first time you met him, he’d literally threatened you with a gods damned blade to your throat. You, who had repeatedly trusted him, even when it had been an objectively stupid thing to do. You, who had always offered him the utmost patience and genuine understanding, to the point in which if he thought about it too hard, he’d probably cry. You, who had led your group of misfits with brain worms right into victory, with plenty of personal demons defeated along the way.

Personal demons including Cazador.

Maybe that’s when things changed for Astarion. He’d already fallen for you before your group had reached Baldur’s Gate, he’d already gotten to know your body intimately before ever laying eyes on that ridiculously oversized brain you somehow made look easy to defeat. But that had been different, hadn’t it? He hadn’t really wanted to do that (not meant as an offense to you – certainly not after all was said and done), but had thought he needed to. To gain your trust, to gain your protection. And in the end, it turned out he never needed to do such a thing. You’d never said it outloud, probably at risk of making him feel even more regret after you’d learned all his secrets and darkest corners, but he knew.

And knowing that you didn’t view him as something purely sexual, as a means to an end, as an item to use – well, it had the opposite effect of his request to no longer be viewed in that light.

“What are you doing?” he says as he quickly looks up from his current book he’d been pursuing the moment you’d entered the room. He hardly cared for the words on the page – he just needed a way to pass the hours until you were available again.

It was a hard habit to kick. Being so codependent on you, even with the end of the world resolved and the gift of safety being handed over to him on a silver platter.

“We received mail,” you’re grinning wickedly as you hold up an embellished envelope, delicate fingers pinching the parchment as if it were the greatest gift to ever exist. He’d argue the real gift at hand was the last three months – time spent with you, in a place he can call home. But nothing could impede on your good mood as you throw yourself down on the mattress beside him, “From Withers, of all people!”

His brows shoot up for just a moment before his face twists up with something akin to distrust, “Withers? What in the Hells does that sack of dust and bones wan-”

“A reunion,” you cut him off, the look on your face warning enough against his attempt at an insult. “He’s reaching out to all of us to bring us together for a celebration, to check in on everyone, let us see each other again. Apparently, we were the easiest of the bunch to find.”

Astarion quickly lets out a tut as he snaps the book shut and discards it on the bedside table closest to him, “Well, we certainly need to fix that. Soon enough all of those little shits are going to end up on our doorstep, preaching about the power of friendship and how they want to check in on us.”

You snort at that, laying flat on your back with your hair wildly spread out in a makeshift halo behind you. The sight causes something to stir within him, his gut twisting as he watches the way your knees knock together before slowly falling apart, your legs settling down as flat as the rest of your body.

He hadn’t taken you since that night at his grave. Before the epic final battle, before the two of you had made the decision to settle down somewhere for some well-earned peace and quiet.

The moonlight dances past the open curtains, and his breath catches in his throat at the way the blue shadows dance across your skin. It almost reminds him of the first time he’d seen you fight. It hadn’t just been the blood splattered across your cheeks that had really gotten the better of his curiosity (even if that’s what he had told you when you asked), it had been the sunlight. Those rays of gold that had mingled with your own aura of warmth after you had helped the tieflings for the first time.

You put the sun to shame, truly. And he missed it – Gods, did he miss it – but he was content to bask in the peace of night for a few months more before he finally cut you loose from the leash to begin your next phase of adventures to find him a cure. You had promised him you would, had already dedicated plenty of free time to research, and all you really needed was his word to begin.

He’s selfish. The two of you can find a way for him to walk in the sun once more another day; all he wants right now is to bury himself in your warmth, to slot his body between your thighs, to hear every breathy gasp and the way you’d practically sing his name-

“Star?” you’re looking up at him from an awkward angle, eyes owlish and chin tilted painfully far back as you clearly await an answer to a question he’d been too lost in a daydream to overhear, “Did you hear me?”

He clears his throat and adjusts the pillows behind his back, keeping him propped up as he admires you, “Of course I did, darling.”

“Then what did I just say?”

“Something about how we’re absolutely not going to this reunion, yes?”

Your smile is nothing but patient as you flip onto your stomach. He watches the way your shorts ride up your thighs, how the top of the soft fabric bunches at your waist. His fingers practically twitch with the need to weasel their way under it, to press his cold fingertips into warm flesh and hear you preen.

Whenever you’re ready, you had whispered to him one night shortly after saving the world. Just tell me when, and I’m yours.

He was ready. Insatiably ready, really.

“Very funny. I said we should go, though. It’d be nice to see everyone again, wouldn’t it? All our friends?”

You’re still talking about this damned reunion. Astarion has half the mind to figure out a way to summon the insufferable skeleton right here, right now, and drive a dagger into his bones until he’s truly nothing but dust. Solely for the distraction.

“Your friends, my dear,” he corrects gently, “We both know they’re only overly fond of one of us in this relationship, and it certainly isn’t the one that they repeatedly threatened to stake.”

The furrow of your brows is impossibly cute – he knows that look of determination. It’s the same one you wore when he mentioned it was likely that the two of you would never find a cure to his condition.

“Our friends,” you insist, “Karlach adores you, Star. And Wyll has always been proud of you, whether he told you as much or not.”

“And what of Gale?”

Your lips twitch at that, “Gale… certainly wouldn’t stake you on sight.”

“Ah, yes,” he flourishes, trying to keep his eyes from wandering anywhere but where your hands press into your cheeks as you prop your face up to speak to him, “Not staking me. The ultimate sign of kinship.”

Focusing is a losing battle when you roll your eyes, and he finds his mind overtaken with insatiable lust again. Imaginative ways that he could have your eyes rolling for him under different circumstances.

“You’re not getting out of this. They are your friends just as well as mine – so argue all you want, but we’re going to the reunion.”

“Are you sure there’s no other way I might be able to…” he pauses with intent, finally lifting one of his docile hands to your cheek, letting his finger graze the skin with a feather light touch before it travels back into the mess of your hair, “Persuade you otherwise?”

You almost fall for it, too. Your eyes flutter shut, your head tilts into his touch as if you were starved for the connection. But even with the lack of sexual intimacy, you both know there hasn’t been a day that has gone by in the last three months where Astarion hasn’t found a way to get his hands on you.

Holding your own, resting his cheek on your shoulder, spinning you like a child in the kitchen – he had quite the sudden arsenal of romantic gestures that didn’t involve old wounds. It had been awkward here and there, some of them landing and some of them leaving you both looking like fools, but he was trying.

Almost as hard as he was currently trying to not jump your bones.

When you recognize the innuendo for what it is, however, you harden immediately. Your shoulders set, a frown settles, and your eyes open with set determination he knows he can’t falter without speaking plainly to you.

“No.”

“No?”

You’re quick to lift yourself up onto your knees, putting distance between yourself and his hands, “The days of weaponizing sex are over. I don’t even want to joke about that.”

And, oh, he’s finding himself in quite the mood tonight, because as soon as you’re retracting, he’s following. As you settle on the haunches of your calves, he’s lifting up from his reclined position, leaning forward so that his face is breaths away from yours.

“I mean it,” you warn, narrowing your eyes and holding up a finger in that small space between you two.

He tests his luck, wasting no time in snapping his fangs just millimeters from your skin. You both know he wouldn’t actually bite you, but it still humors him to see the way you whip your hand out of his reach.

“Were you not the one who insisted that we ask before we bite?” you snap, and his smile only worsens. Like a cheshire cat, like a child never scorned by the world – he’s radiant and basking in the moment.

He lets out a small hmph before saying, “You’re no fun, my dear. Come on – just play with me for a moment, won’t you?”

Your face softens at his teasing tone, and he can see the way he’s withering away your defenses one by one. There was once a time where he’d done it with malicious intent, but this time around, it’s with nothing but good intentions.

If you asked him, he’d go as far as to swear it on his own grave.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize as if you’d done something wrong, and it makes more than half of his own playfulness drain from his face in absolute displeasure. Before he can so much as open his mouth to scold you about unnecessary apologies, you’re continuing on, “I just�� After everything we’ve been through, it’s not something I find particularly joyous to joke about.”

What a rare thing, to have found someone to bare your soul and all your burdens to, and watch them offer to help you shoulder the weight without second thought or regret.

He’s never met someone like you in all his years, and he might never again.

“And if I told you I wasn’t joking?” he asks slowly, carefully, trying to choose each word with the utmost care, “I’m not weaponizing – I’m offering.”

Whenever you’re ready. Just tell me when, and I’m yours.

He was ready. Very, desperately, sorely ready.

The topic of the reunion is all but forgotten as you process his words, nose twitching as you decipher all that’s he laying out before you. “I want more than an offer.”

“Excuse me?”

He can’t help the small laugh that leaves him as he sits up properly, leaning into your space fully now with one hand pressing into the mattress just beside one of your thighs. He can feel the heat radiating from you, smell your blood rushing to your head as you try to be sensible. It’s a pitiful excuse for an internal war; all he has to do is close that conveniently small distance between your lips with his own, and you’ll have lost all sense of logic.

“You’re…” you trail off, searching his eyes as if he holds the answer you’re currently looking for, “You’re sacred to me, Astarion. You must know that. And it will take much more than some joking offer to convince me to have sex with you when I know-”

“I’m not joking,” he’s nearly whining, letting his forehead fall forward to press to yours, “Gods, I am not joking about this. Cross my heart and hope to die again.”

If he has to beg, he will.

He’s spent two hundred years in an insufferable position of pure misery, pure shit, and the realization that he’s finally free has everything clicking into place. Proof of the change exists solely in the fact that he could have resorted to his tired old seduction routine from his life before to get what he wanted, but instead, he’s trying to just communicate.

It was a novel moment.

But he could appreciate it later, when the crotch of his pants wasn’t becoming increasingly uncomfortably tight and he wasn’t watching you closer than prey. When his stomach wasn’t so tight with desire and anticipation, just waiting for your word to indulge.

“Do I need to beg?” he sighs, his lips brushing against yours ever so slightly from proximity. He catches the shiver that runs up your spine. “We both know I’m not particularly fond of it, but if I have to get on my knees for you- well, actually, that’s the entire point of what I’m asking.”

You laugh at that, and his gut twists again, because it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever had the opportunity to hear. Something more breath than any vocality, something sharp and spelling out the loss of words on your tongue.

Your silence is enough for him to push it all a step further. Forehead still leaning against yours, he properly presses his lips to yours this time, slotting them between softer than a feather’s caress. Finding home as he can physically feel himself steal your breath away. His fangs just barely nip your bottom lip, unintentionally but still eliciting a delicious reaction of a gasp that makes him graze you a second time just to feel the way you’re leaning into him more, becoming absolute putty in his hands. Pliable for his taking, and Gods, he wants to take you.

Something snaps.

All hesitation has vanished as he grabs at your hips quickly, making use of the way your brain has gone blank from a simple kiss in order to lay you out below him. He moves you with ease, incredible speed in slotting himself between your legs before he’s caging your entire body in with his own. The squeak that leaves your lips from his manhandling affects him even more than your gasps had, a low growl shaking his chest as he kisses you deeper. Tasting, begging, searching – he wants this, but he needs to know that you want this just as badly.

Your hands find purchase on each of his shoulders, squeezing tightly as if needing something to tether yourself to. You pull him in closer for a second, eagerly returning the kiss, almost feverish in the way you drink him in. But the next, you’re pushing him away, a game of want and sensibility still clouding your judgment impossibly.

You always were stubborn about things like morals. And, well, it wasn’t very moral to just jump right into sex with your traumatized boyfriend who had explicitly said not to view him in terms of sex, was it?

It was Astarion’s own damn fault.

He could have just acted like a normal person, initiated a normal conversation in which he renegotiated his boundaries. But you’ve been on his mind all day, and he’s long since proven since the very day that you met him that he has little to none impulse control.

“My, my,” he murmurs, pulling back from the kiss, eyes wild, looking at you with even more hunger than he had the first night you’d given him a taste of your blood in camp, “You’re just an impossible thing to please, aren’t you? Do you want me near, do you want me far? Tell me, my love, what do you want?”

He settles all his weight onto one of his forearms as the other slowly brings his hand to your side, caressing over the soft fabric of your shirt – a shirt he’s quickly realizing is actually his own. He recognizes those flowy sleeves, that lacing across the chest, the off-white tone that had seen better days. Given all its wear and tear, he’s almost sure that it’s one of his shirts he had grown most comfortable wearing during the nights of your adventures against the Netherbrain.

It’s cute. A sort of domesticity that he can ponder over later, when your legs aren’t hanging on his hips and your breaths aren’t coming out staccato as he hovers just out of reach from you.

“I want whatever you want,” you whisper. Your eyes flutter open, looking at him with pupils so dilated they could swallow him whole.

“Let me be very clear, then,” he hums, cold fingers creeping their way to the hem of the shirt, slipping beneath with practiced ease to find the smooth skin of your hips below. They dance and skitter up, up, up until he’s brushing against your ribs, “I want you. I want that warm cunt of yours, I want to feel every gasp and breath as your walls squeeze around me. I want to fuck you until you’re unable to walk on your own two legs, until you can only remember my name. I want to watch you come undone, my dear, and for it to be my own undoing.”

Your lips quiver in anticipation, and he feels your thighs tighten their hold on him, “Such pretty words. And… and no ulterior motives? No sense of obligation?”

“None at all,” he smiles, a predator closing in on his prey, “I’m choosing this. If you want it, if you’ll have me, then I’m ready, pet.”

Pet. The nickname rolls off his tongue, and he can imagine your walls fluttering just as your eyes do.

Your hands lift from his shoulders to bury in his hair instead. One cradling the back of his head, the other resting on the nape of his neck as you toy with a snowy curl. It unfurls him further, has him humming lowly as he dips down to recapture your lips and bring you into him even closer. Closer. He needs all and any space between the two of you to become nonexistent. To feel every inch of your skin pressed to his, to allow you to physically curl up into his chest just as you had his mind all those moons ago, to make a home in a room with your name on it already somewhere between his third and fourth rib.

“Do you really have to doubt if I’ll have you, my love?” you mutter against his mouth, smile breaking the kiss momentarily before he’s back with a vengeance. You don’t care – you’re apparently in a chatty mood, dodging his kiss to get your last words in, “There’s been a space in my heart for you since the moment I first met yo-”

“Yes, yes, very romantic,” he interrupts urgently, suddenly tugging your shirt up, “But, truth be told, love? I’m hoping there’s a space between your legs for me at this moment.”

You snort, eyes pinched shut as you attempt to shake your head at the ridiculousness of the words that just left his mouth. At any other moment, you might point out how the outrageous comment is just another defense mechanism, veering him away from having to acknowledge the gentle sentiment behind your own words, but now’s not the time. When you open your mouth, probably to say something exactly along those lines, he rolls his hips down against yours, pinning your lower half deep into the mattress. You feel just how hard he is through his trousers – it’s impossible to miss, but he’s deliberating being sure that you feel it as he lets the tips of his fangs sink into your bottom lip.

The resolve of fighting against his wishes is quickly dissolved. One thing after another, and Astarion has you bare beneath him before any other distractions or annoying conversation can send the two of you further off track. Your, his, shirt is tossed to one side of the room. Your parents fly to the other side of the bed. Only once he has the entire spanse of your body nude and vulnerable to him does he take the time to pause, to look down at you with absolute adoration.

“Gods, you’re beautiful.”

He’s said those words to you a million times before. Consistently greeting you with them, muttering them in the dead of night, whispering them as he kisses you awake. But they never lose their weight. And certainly not now, as he’s looking down at you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen that freckle on your chest or the curve of your stomach barren before him.

“Please, if you’re comfortable with it…” you start, voice laced with desperation, but he shakes his head.

He’s full of interruptions tonight, “Consider me comfortable with anything unless stated otherwise for this moment, my sweet.”

“Take off your clothes, Astarion.”

His giddy smile should annoy you. That smug satisfaction in finally, finally getting his way as he undresses himself at almost twice the speed that he had stripped you. And yet he knows you’re enjoying yourself just as much as he is. You’re reveling in drinking in the bare caricatures of his body, every inch and every curve exposed to you just as you are to him. And when his cool skin meets yours again, his body sinking right into that space between your thighs that you’ve granted to him, you let out a short gasp that reminds him that you want this just as badly as he does.

You’ve waited just as long as he has.

It almost mirrors that night on his grave. The slow descent of his body against yours, the way he slides a leg up to spread your own even further for him as he crawls his way back home to your lips. Unlike that night, however, he isn’t taking quite as much care, his movements far faster and far more needy.

He’s been waiting long enough. He’s denied himself long enough.

It really doesn’t matter when the last time he had enjoyed sex had been, because all that he cares about is that here and now, in this moment with you, there’s not a trace of imperfections to taint his enjoyment.

Cazador is dead. The brain has long since been defeated. You are both safe.

As he sinks into your heat, the only thing on his mind is that contentment, overwhelmed with the feel and smell of just you.

He’ll never be a slave again. Never be viewed as something to simply be used and disregarded again, if you have any say. And one day, some day, he’ll even feel the warmth of the sun again. Thanks to you.

But until that day, the warmth of your love is enough.

When you sigh his name out so delicately, jaw all but unhinging itself in bliss as your back arches in reaction to his touches, he knows he’s made the right choice.

And he supposes he lied, in a way, earlier.

You’re not that hard to please – not when it comes to him, at least. Not when it’s his hands trailing along your skin, not when it’s his lips and fangs nipping at every opportunity. And certainly not when it’s his name that’s being chanted like a prayer from your lips in time with every thrust, every stroke, every single movement with the sole purpose of making both of you come undone.

Astarion no longer questions when the last time he enjoyed sex was in the aftermath of it all. With you, pressed into his side, sweaty forehead nuzzling his chest, the only thing he cares about is the next time he’ll be able to do so.

“We’re still going to that reunion,” you murmur, half asleep, fading away from him quickly to fall into blissful unconsciousness.

He almost doesn’t breathe in fear of disturbing you. He’ll waste the night away, laying here, still as a statue for your comfort.

It’s no surprise when he refuses to put up a fight, instead his hand simply drawing soft stars across the back of your bare shoulder blades as he sighs, “Yes, dear. We will. Now sleep.”

“I love you.”

The words tumble from your lips so carelessly, so easily and without hesitation, he nearly shakes you awake to hear them once more. Again and again, he needs to hear them, to be reassured that you feel for him as ardently as he does you.

But he has the rest of your forever to hear them. So he lets you sleep, sending you away with a simple press of his lips to your temples as your breathing evens.

“And I love you, my dearest sun.”

#ghost's stories #smutty party #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion smut #astarion x you #my writing #there's a line in here that my best friend watched me write in real time IN PERSON that we both cackled about #i went 'i really shouldn't include it' and she went 'but it's HIM'#it's giving 'i'd rather be the only dark power inside you'#idk if this is good but it is what it is ya know #if the ending feels rushed it's because i felt terrible for how long it was getting lol #i just wanna love on the boy #i just wanna love him and he love me is that too much to ask #so many pet names i considered editing but the voices won

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toxicanonymity · 2 years ago

Text

midnight tow (slasher!Joel)

3.6k / slasher!Joel x fem!reader / master

Slasher masterlist | art by @bonezone44 💙

WARNINGS: 18+ Horror, DARK!Joel, near murder by strangulation, manhandling, dubious consent, choking, unsafe PIV sex, reader can sit on Joel's lap. unedited. Reader survives ♥️

Inspired by this ask from @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Your breath hitches when you see the bright lights, then relief floods your chest as the tow truck comes into view. The driver parks his unmarked truck, hops down out of it, and walks to your car. He gets just a couple of feet away before he stops to face you and spreads his boots, crunching the loose asphalt beneath them. The truck lights illuminate him. He's wearing a blue working man’s jumpsuit that stretches over his biceps as he crosses his arms. The name on his uniform is Joel.

Joel's dark eyes scan you, then he scratches one side of his salt-and-pepper beard. “Got anyone to come get ya, sweetheart?” He rubs the back of his neck, exposing a dark patch of sweat under his arm. "Real dangerous out here at night. . . Nothin' good happens this late.”

His voice has a calming effect, despite his unnerving words. For a moment, you admire his nice head of hair instead of facing the reality of his question.

Your car broke down in the worst possible area. Nothing within walking distance. You drained your phone battery trying to get a signal and finally managed to call for a tow, but you weren’t able to reach anyone to help you get home. Waiting for the tow felt like forever, especially without a phone or watch. It felt like something or someone was going to pop out at any minute. It's a humid night, and even the clouds have refused to cooperate, dimming the light of the nearly-full moon.

This is not the guy you talked to on the phone. His voice would’ve made an impression on you.

You tell him you weren’t able to get a hold of anyone.

“Anyone know you’re out here, might see the missed call and come lookin’?”

Maybe, but you don’t think so.

“Hmmm,” he says. “Well, lemme load your car up, then we’ll figure it out. Sit tight for me, sugar,” he says with a wink. He has a disarming energy. "Gonna take me a minute." The clouds begin to clear away from the moon, affording more light. You begin to feel better all around.

You carefully sit down on the grass near the cab of the tow truck with your knees to the side and behind you since you’re wearing a short dress. Not a single car has passed by the whole time you’ve been broken down, at least an hour. You wait as he uses some wire to secure a loose part on your car, then loads it up onto the bed.

His biceps and quads stretch his uniform as he crouches on the bed of the truck and secures the straps around your car’s wheels. He gets hot and unzips his jumpsuit for air, exposing a dirty t-shirt. Then he opens the passenger door to the cab of his truck and it's piled high with scrap. No seat. He reaches behind the driver's seat and grabs an enormous wrench. His forearm flexes as he carries it off to tighten something on the back of the towing platform. When he’s done, he comes to talk to you again.

“Whew. Been a looong day," he says as he wipes his brow with a rag then throws it over his shoulder. "How ‘bout you, sweetheart? Couldn’ta been that good."

You agree as he takes off the sleeves of his jumpsuit and ties them loosely around his waist. When you follow his large, veiny hands to his waist, it's impossible not to notice the crotch of his uniform is tight enough to see he's well-endowed. You yank your eyes back up and he crosses his arms again. His muscles are hard and he has the slightest paunch. The way his biceps and pecs stretch his t-shirt is a welcome distraction from the rock bottom situation. Looks like a guy who works with his hands, lifting very heavy things, and enjoys a few beers at the end of the day. Or night. It feels like a miracle you could get a truck at this hour, especially in this desolate area.

His phone doesn’t have service for you to call anyone. Since the service is so bad, he just has a radio to receive dispatch instructions. Since he doesn’t have a passenger seat, and that space is instead occupied by scrap, the only thing he can offer is for you to sit in his lap. Unless he leaves you by the side of the road.

You choose his lap.

He gets in first, puts the big wrench in the back, and empties his pockets. He puts a switchblade near the gear shifter and hangs some spare wire around the rearview mirror before he sits down. Then he settles in and unties his sleeves, letting them hang off the seat. He extends his massive hand to you. His bicep flexes as he helps you into the cab of the truck. You sit down on him ass-first, but it’s a precarious position and you could get hurt. You jostle around trying a few different things. You get butterflies from being so close to him, touching him, smelling him, feeling his body against yours.

“Alright, let’s try this,” he says. “Turn around an’ face me, then hug me like we're on a motorcycle. Safer.”

Hard to believe this is happening, especially in your short dress. Of all the nights to wear one. You hesitantly straddle him, and when you’re face to face a few inches away, his features are even more striking. He has a perfect nose. His brow is furled and casts a shadow over his eyes like he has a sexy secret. He has a dimple perfectly nestled in a patch of skin within his beard. Looking him in the eye is too intense at this distance.

You tug pointlessly at your dress but there’s no way to be modest in this situation. He reads your mind. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he reassures you. "Don't worry 'bout it." He pulls you in closer so your crotch meets his and your heart skips a beat when you feel his warm, ample package. “Hang on tight, now.” You put your head over his shoulder, facing the back of the truck .

The smell of his sweat is intoxicating. He starts the engine and pulls back onto the road. It’s not long before you feel him hardening under you. He lifts his hips, sending a rush of arousal through your body.

You shift shyly and he pulls you back into him, then lifts his hips again and clears his throat. “Can’t help it, sugar. Sexy little thing like you wrapped around me. Damn.”

Your face burns. There’s a long silence and his arousal is digging into your panties the whole time. He turns his head ever so slightly to inhale your hair. The next thing you know, his lips are pressed against your neck. Lightly enough to be accidental at first. But then they drag an inch without him pulling away. He opens his mouth against your dewy skin then closes it, like he’s eating something invisible off you. A chill goes down your spine and your nipples harden.

“Bother you?” he asks, subtly thrusting his hips up again. No, it doesn't. You’re hot for him. It bothers you a little that it doesn't bother you. Like you know it should. But what could you say anyway? You’re at his mercy. You might be dead on the side of the road without him.

“Guess not."

“Good girl.” He adds his tongue and full on kisses the crook of your neck as he drives, then gives it a nibble and a suck. You’re so wet. With the pathetic thong you're wearing, it must be no secret from him.

His voice gets horny and low. “Good thing you're down,” he says, “or this wouldn’t be any fun.” He drags his nose up your neck to your ear and adds "Yeah, you're into it. . .I can feel it."

By the time he pulls into a gated property, he's turned you alllll the way on. Between his voice, and his mouth on your neck, and his clothed arousal against you, you’re a wet mess. You're trying desperately not to hump him as he slowly traverses what seems to be a gravel yard of cars.

When the truck slows way down, he rests a hand on your ass and gives it a squeeze as he says, "What a ride. . ." with an upward thrust. "Ain't over yet, though." Your cunt flutters at those words. Then he clears his throat and adds, "We're goin' through the back gate to another lot." You scold yourself for being disappointed in what he meant, but you can't imagine he'd deny you if you made a move right now.

You wait, though. You'd rather figure out how you're going to get home first.

Joel drives deeper into the lot. It's dark, but you try to look around. There's no back gate or other lot that you can see. All you see are the skeletons of cars that have been picked over for scraps. A pit forms in your stomach. You start to scoot back from his crotch. He notices and parks the truck. There’s a look in his eyes, and something makes you reach for the door. His large, veiny hand gently covers yours before you can open it.

“Whoa, sugar. Where ya goin'?" Your heart rate quickens and your gut feeling intensifies. You try to get out of his lap, lunging for the door.

"What the hell are ya doin, sweetheart?" He firmly grabs your arm. You stare at him, your chest heaving, heart racing. He glances at your neck and you imagine he must see your jugular vein pulsing a mile a minute.

"Too dark out there, sugar.” You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “Lotta sharp stuff.” He looks at you skeptically. “Lemme turn on some lights first.”

You exhale in relief. He was just protecting you.

He hits a button on his dashboard and it illuminates the surrounding area with the yellow siren lights on the top of his truck. He gazes at you through wounded eyes, looks down between you, where you're no longer covering his hard, swollen package with your crotch. He must feel so cold. He swallows.

"Damnit," he says. His eyes glisten. "Thought we were havin' fun." He sighs solemnly. "Wait here a sec." You feel bad. He’s gone above and beyond to help you. Maybe he deserves the benefit of the doubt.

So you wait in the truck, catching glimpses of vehicular carcasses as the amber light dances over them. Nothing drivable.

Then it hits you like a punch in the gut that you still can't see a back gate, even with the added light. It's just a fence. That’s all there is to it. There’s nowhere a gate would even be. No other lot in sight. Your heart races even faster than it was a moment ago.

You jump in your seat as a machine rumbles to life, followed by the sound of metal in distress. You look in the direction of the noise and the yellow lights pour over a big, industrial dumpster. Your stomach turns.

You're still processing your fear when the truck door opens, making you jump again. Joel climbs up into the cab and nudges you up so he can get under you. You freeze and do it in a daze. Then he starts the truck and coaxes you back into straddling him. You feel like you have no control, you have no idea what’s going to happen, no idea what to do.

Joel reaches behind you to the rearview mirror and sighs lazily like he's about to do a chore.

“Been a while since I shredded a car this new. Damn shame, wasn't plannin' on it tonight."

Your heart drops through your feet. “What? –why are you-”

A cool, thin wire presses against the top of your spine, then he wraps it around your neck like a scarf. His face goes dark and serious, and his voice goes flat.

“Real dangerous out here, sweetheart.”

He takes a deep breath and his cock swells harder against you. He holds the wire in one hand and tightens his other arm around your back. He slowly begins to twist the wire against itself. You grab at it and beg him to stop. To your surprise, he pauses.

You try to slow your breathing. You can’t get out, you can’t fight. He just looks at you with dead eyes, waiting for you to say something else. It hits you there's only one thing left to do to buy you some time. And you need to make him forget you tried to leave the truck.

“Wait,” you say as calmly as you can. "Weren’t we in the middle of something?" You reach down and grab the hard bulge in his jumpsuit. To your horror, a stab of desire slices through your clit. You spread your palm and press it into him, massaging his cock. You're throbbing for him. You're genuinely dying to fuck this sicko. He makes you sweat out a long moment of silence.

“Now that might get ya somewhere,” he says, low and gravely, thrusting into your hand. He lets the wire hang from your neck. One strong arm tilts you up against him while he urgently pulls his jumpsuit's zipper down more. He grunts as he frees himself from his boxers. The next thing you feel is his stiff, warm, naked cock against your inner thigh. He slips a finger into your thong and sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how wet you are.

He murmurs, “Damn, you really do want it.” He looks you in the eyes hornily, then seductively as though to say he likes where this is going. Like he didn't just loop a ligature around your neck.

He takes a deep breath. "Maybe I took it the wrong way," he says in self-reflection.

"What?"

"When you tried to open the door. . ."

He's nuts.

"I was . . . embarrassed I was getting you wet."

"That's the least of your worries."

He pushes your thong aside, then the large head of his cock finds your warm, wet little hole. He wraps both arms around you and pulls you down with a low grunt that turns into a sigh as he impales you on his shaft. You don't suppress your moan as his girth parts your core and you sink down on his cock. He fills you to the brim and stretches you wide, making you grateful for how wet you are.

"God damn, you're tight." He pulls you down even more with a lift of his hips and a vocal sigh. "This what you wanted?"

You nod and try to move your hips, but he holds you still. "Use your words."

"Yes," you say. "God, yes."

He still doesn't let you move. "What did you want?"

"Your cock"

"Yeah,” he nods. “And what do you want now?"

It feels like a trick question. "Whatever you'll give me."

You're sitting there for a moment and he studies your face like he's wondering if it's a trick. The car shredding machine roars menacingly.

Your cunt twitches and he inhales sharply.

You break the silence. "Fuck me, Joel.” He wants to be wanted. “You feel how much I want you." Then you rock your hips gently - very gently. He must want to be in control. And you don't want him to come too fast before you’ve decided what to do next.

"Please," you beg. “Fuck me,” you mouth silently with the horniest eyes you can muster.

"There she is." He lifts his hips in return.

"Please, Joel." He pulls back, then plunges into you again, holding your hips down on him. He retreats, filling his chest with air, then lifts his hips slowly again, bottoming out deep inside you with a sigh. He fills you all the way up. And when your bodies are flush, the pressure on your clit is just right. The noise of the car shredder becomes part of the background.

He gets into a rhythm, and this man knows how to fuck. He's so smooth, and your cunt squeezes his cock so tight, there are brief moments you forget what you’re supposed to be thinking about. Instead you’re just marveling at the motion of his hips and the sounds of his breath and the perfect shape of his cock dragging against your walls.

You need to access whatever part of him doesn’t want to kill you. But god, it’s hard to think with his cock inside you and your life on the line. His lower belly grinds into your mound, and his massive hands scan your back. The wire bounces around your neck.

"God, you feel good," you gush. "So good." As you ride him, you weigh the options. You could seduce him into the idea of fucking you again later then run when he's asleep, or you could fight for your life right now. Your lips graze his neck and you consider biting his jugular as hard as you can. A powerful thrust upward shakes you out of the thought and nudges your g-spot. He grunts each time your warmth sheathes him.

The window is completely fogged over. You moan, then say, "you knew it would turn me on, didn’t you?" You lightly touch the wire around your neck without removing it. You caress it. "You could tell I wanted it." You roll your hips harder into him and feel a climax building. He breathes heavily as your cunt pulls him back in each time.

"Shit," he pants. "Little sex kitten like you?" His cock twitches deep inside you and he slows down. "Course you wanted it."

"Yeah," you breathe, rolling your hips into him slowly. "Oh god," you pant. He holds your hips and gradually speeds up again, moaning and sighing.

"Lucky you're so fuckin' hot," he snarls.

"It's hot you had the balls to scare me like that," you say. "just to turn me on even more."

There’s no doubt in your mind this man is a killer, but you need him to believe you don't think he is. It’s the only way he can let you live.

"Musta worked," he pants. He fingers the cord around your neck and the rough pads of his large digits brush your delicate skin.

"Do it," you tell him. "Choke me."

He grunts "Mm" with an emphatic thrust.

You cover his hand on your neck with yours. "God I love these hands," you gush truthfully, tracing the veins as you ride him and feel something building more and more in your gut.

His hand wraps more than halfway around your throat as you bob up and down in his lap and he tightens his grip. His thumb digs into your jaw. Your hips buck into him hard as your head fills with pressure and your throat croaks. He loosens his grip enough for you to moan.

"God I wanna suck your cock," you tell him, knowing he'll come too soon before you can.

“Maybe later, sugar.” You try to suppress your excitement. You might get out of this alive. “If you’re good.”

He bites his lip, and his thrusts intensify. He wraps both arms around you and firmly cradles the back of your head with one hand, his beard prickling your cheek. He pistons into you and you let yourself come, choking his cock with your climax. You don’t hold back at all, you let it all out, almost crying as you convulse in his lap. Then he holds you down and groans, powerfully shoving his cock into you as he erupts. He empties his balls into you with a long sigh.

He rests his head back and breathes. Your climax wanes, and the next few moments feel like an eternity. The car shredder sounds louder than ever at the forefront of your mind. You have no idea whether he’s more or less likely to kill you now that he’s come. If it brings him clarity, is it going to be clear that you have to die now or clear that he never should have thought about it?

Finally, he reaches his hand to your neck and your heart skips a beat. He takes the wire and puts it back around the rearview mirror.

“Just a minute, sugar.” He nudges you up and tucks himself away in his jumpsuit. He gets out, and you stay put, his cum trickling out of you and onto the chair. It’s a delicate moment, not worth the risk of trying to run. Where would you run, anyway?

The car shredder turns off, and you relax back into the seat, ready to cry tears of joy.

Joel comes back and opens the door to the truck. He stands there for a second, looks you up and down. You must be a hot mess, and he seems to like it.

He moves his tongue in his cheek like he’s thinking. Then he says, “You really wanna suck my cock, don’t you?”

You smile. “After that? Fuck, yes. What a rush.”

He looks proud, like that really was his intent all along.

“Alright.” He climbs back into the truck with you and you get out of his way while he sits. “You’re comin’ home with me tonight.” His hands slide over your thighs, looking at you with new admiration as he pulls you in to straddle him again. “Figure out your car in the mornin’.”

If you want another one mention it in the RBs or comments. Thank you all so much for your support and engagement. Your reblogs and comments mean so much for me. Best readers out there!!

#joel miller x reader #dark!joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #joel miller fic #creepy!joel miller #sleazy!joel miller #serial killer!joel miller #slasher!joel miller #toxicanonymity ☠️#slasher!joel☠️#tw dubcon #tw strangling #slasher!joel #content label #there's only one seat

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cherryblooom · 1 month ago

Text

2XL — OP81 [ part 1 ]

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

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Fic warning: best friends to lovers, kind of slow burn, slut shaming, weird people on the internet, people commenting about a minor's body, sexism, rape comments, rape "jokes", reader battles with her self-esteem, self-image, and self-love, Oscar is obsessed with his girlfriend and her body (not in a creepy way) and is not afraid of showing it, Oscar is not afraid of defending reader and dragging people though the mud.

Faceclaim: Billie Eilish

Note: Oscar is a year older than the reader. SMAU mixed with narrative. Reader doesn't have that much access to social media right now as they are mostly controlled by their management.

You were in shock, appalled, shaking in your boots. No, that wasn't enough to describe the excitement you felt when you saw the success your debut song was having. It had gone viral on the Soundcloud platform, and your followers were increasing rapidly, it honestly felt like a dream.

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ynusername Thank you so much for all the support and love you guys have shown to my debut song and EP. I am still in shock and shaking. I can't wait to see what comes next 🩵

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fanusername you deserve all the love, the songs are beautiful

→ ynusername Thank you so much for the support, it is a dream come true 🩵

oscarpiastri beautiful and talented, you deserve it! ☁︎🩵

ynusername has liked your comment

username this girl is going to be a fucking star

ynusername has liked your comment

username245 ocean eyes makes me cry so much 😭

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oscarpiastri I can't even begin to express how proud I am of you. You are such a talented artist and seeing how you are achieving all of your dreams makes me so excited. And…happy birthday! I don't care how famous you get, i’ll always remember how you almost die because you couldn't stop eating grapes.

Please don't forget me when you are famous, I can't live without your pancakes and you always REFUSE to share the recipe 😔

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ynusername and i’ll NEVER give you my pancakes recipe ☺️🙂‍↔️

→ oscarpiastri boooh, u are just mean and for what😣

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ynusername This pookie just won his first championship in motorsports and I'm still scared to cross the street alone, wtf. Anyways, CONGRATULATIONS!! I don't need to read your horoscope to know that you have a great and bright future ahead of you ❤️@ oscarpiastri

P.S. I understand that winning a championship is a bit of a big deal, but I'm not going to give you my pancake recipe. I don't care how pretty your eyes are 🙄

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fan1 wait, are they a couple?

→ fanuser3 No, as far we know, they have only been best friends since kids

randomuser oscar had an amazing season, I can't wait to see him in f1

fanuser2 Is Yn that tiny or is Oscar a giant? 😭

→ fan1 I know, their height difference is so cute 😔

→ fan3 both answers are correct 😂 but she's 5’1 so I would say that is not that hard to tower over her

Oscarpiastri if you give me the recipe, I will teach you how to cross the street without dying 😃

→ ynusername no❤️

→ oscarpiastri oh COME ON

→ oscarpiastri then, can you come and prepare me some? I pledge not to peek

→ ynusername that I can do

Oscar turned off the screen of his phone when he saw that you had returned from the bathroom, since he had taken advantage of those minutes that you were away from the table to respond to that disgusting comment on Twitter. There were times when he hated social networks, and because he was not a fan and did not find the logic in arguing with a stranger on Twitter, he could not avoid the anger that began to feel when he saw that comment from someone who claimed to be his fan. It wasn't the first time, and unfortunately it wouldn't be the last, that your fashion style was the center of conversation, and not in a good way.

“So, are we done here then? Nobody wants to order anything else?” asked his team leader. All the team members shook their heads and after the bill was paid, everyone started to get into the cars that were already waiting outside to take them to the bar they had reserved for the rest of the night. It wasn’t just that they had won the championship but now Oscar was officially of age, so it was also a reason to celebrate (although he wasn’t old enough to drink alcohol yet, but it seems that detail wasn’t that important to his team).

“Let’s go to McDonald’s for our monthly greasy burger” Oscar told you as you walked out of the restaurant. Your arms were intertwined, and your head was resting on his chest as the two of you slowly made your way to the exit. You couldn’t help but feel a warm flush running through your body. You felt so comfortable and safe.

''Even though I wouldn't want to break our tradition, you should go with your team to celebrate. I'm sure they made you a cake or something like that.'' Since you were both 12 years old, on the last Friday of every month you would go somewhere to eat sweets, junk food or things that you couldn't eat on a daily basis and, for both of you, it was almost a sacred day where you could be yourself, spend time together and just eat, talk or relax.

"Maybe you're right but honestly I'd rather spend time with you."

''I'd love to accompany you but I'm not 18 yet''

''Ohh right, you're still a little girl, I almost forgot. My bad''

''Shut up!'' Oscar just laughed and you let him guide you to his car. ''So, you're not going to the bar?''

''I told you; I prefer to be with you.'' You were both already inside the car and after buckling his seatbelt, Oscar leaned over you to put your seatbelt on for you, but you didn't realize how close you were from each other until he was practically right in front of you. Time felt like it had stopped, or at least it was going slower, since you felt like you had been in that same position for minutes. Oscar for his part couldn't help but run his gaze over your full, kissable and pink lips. For Oscar, you had always been a beauty that didn't need makeup, and if you had put on any, it would only be to make your already natural beauty shine. A few inches were all that separated your lips from his and Oscar smiled cheekily as he watched you hold your breath, maybe waiting, but waiting for what exactly? Oscar pursed his mouth into a satisfied smile.

Oscar finished fastening your seatbelt and sat back down to his seat as if nothing had happened, but he smiled mischievously when he watched you wipe the palms of your hands on your pants and felt you release the breath you were holding.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with that belt, but sometimes it gets stuck. I should check it out later,” Oscar said, and you nodded you head accepting his explanation. It was a lie. The belt was perfect, he just wanted an excuse to do what he did and yes, he didn’t regret anything. He got the answer he was looking for...that he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

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dailyop81 One of the photos that are already coming out of Oscar's team celebrating the championship title, but he doesn't appear in any of them. Could it be that he didn't attend his own party?

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dailyynupdates yn and oscar hanging out today. According to the person who took the photos, the two were seen leaving a food store with a couple of bags (with snacks and what it looked like some junk food). They stopped at the park for a few seconds and then oscar started chasing yn while they both laughed. It should be noted that today is Oscar's celebration party, and he apparently decided to celebrate with yn.

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oscarpiastri such a lovely night with a pretty girl 🩵

tagged @ ynusername

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yn_global23 the height difference between them, I can't-

→ ynhater1 she looks like a fucking midget besides him, how is that cute? lol

→ ynhater1 and btw, the only reason she's famous is because she is with Oscar, if not, she would have flopped so hard 🤣

→ yn_global23 you are aware that yn was already famous before your little vroom vroom guy won any silly tittle, right?

Oscarpiastri liked your comment ❤️

fanuser5 Oh, the way I would give my left kidney to see them together! Like TOGETHER 🙂‍↕️

Oscarpiastri liked your comment

→ ynfan2 ong, me too!! I don't know a lot about Oscar but yn seems so comfortable and happy whenever they are together

→ ynuser2 omggg, Oscar liked your comment 😭

→ fanuser5 WHAT? I can't see it.

→ ynfanuser4 I think he removed the like but, we all saw it. @oscarpiastri explain 🫠

Oscarpiastri liked your comment ❤️

→ ynfanuser4 ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

Radio check: I'm finishing up the next part of Enchanted, but this came to my mind, and I couldn't get it out of my head so here we are. If you'd like me to tag you, let me know. Like and Reblog if you like it!

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