#fuckin LOVE dee dee
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sk8rambler · 1 year ago
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happy birthday dee dee :>
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iris0s · 5 months ago
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New bandana dee kinsona ref who up!!!!!
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basketobread · 1 year ago
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@percexe back at it again at krispy kreme
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fauvester · 2 years ago
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drops a Klingon doctor oc and runs for the hills
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ghostzzy · 3 months ago
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writetober day 3 complete!
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treevore · 10 months ago
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the more i think about it, my favorite flavor of incest really really is twincest thanks ouran high school host club
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downtherabbitholewithlucy · 2 years ago
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🎛️🎚️DJ LETHAL🎚️🎛️
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tweedlebean · 8 months ago
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Would love to be able to talk about my fav prog rock band without being smacked by casual transphobia every single time. That'd be great.
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rebelpeas · 2 years ago
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so scott is the reincarnation of aeor the stag god worshipped by rivendell and his brother is the reincarnation of exor, the cruel stag god, but scott doesn’t even know his brother and doesn’t even know he has a literal god’s soul in him. he’s god and didn’t know until now and suddenly he’s divine except he always was and his brother has always been the opposite (he has a brother now) (he has always had a brother) he is the thing he was raised worshipping but he’s still himself too and the thing is that if he’s himself, what if his brother is not only a demon. what if in a kinder world, he had a brother who loved him
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iholli · 1 year ago
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not to be a simp on main but
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deqdwinter · 1 year ago
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#VENOM!
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pairing: dick grayson x chubby afab!reader
word count: 800+
summary: dick comes home from a very long night, after encountering poison ivy, he can’t seem to think straight when all he can smell is you…
warnings: HEAVY SMUT!! sex pollen, dick has a big.. erm well.. dick, BREEDINGGGG, slight degradation, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), dom!dick, sub!reader, dick calls reader a fleshlight (lovingly ;p), dick's lwk a lil' mean in this but it's ok he loves you ;3
authors note: lawddd hold me back this man is bouta make me combust like all over his face SOMEONE HELP ME
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“Fuckin’ hell-” Dick groaned lowly as he gripped your hips tighter, pulling your plush body back into his harsh thrusts. 
Nights like this would normally have this outcome. Dick would come home, late at night after a patrol, looking and being frustrated as anyone would be, leaving you to be his relief.
But tonight.. Wasn’t one of those nights. This wasn’t calm, or half assed thrusts into your sopping cunt as you both lay half awake in bed, no. Dick wasn’t frustrated.. He was hungry.
“Dee! S-slow down baby-!” you squealed as your manicured hand reached back, your nails lightly brushing over his toned abdomen. 
He’d been so overcome with lust that he hadn’t even fully discarded his suit, only zipping it down the middle and off his shoulders to leave it pooling at his waist, with his mask still tied around his eyes. The white, chalky glow around his eyes hiding his irises from your view. 
He roughly grabbed your hand into his and intertwined them, a sweet gesture compared to his brutal pace he was keeping up with at the moment. 
“Mine, mine, mine..” you heard him mumble as he leaned down, cooing into your ear as he pounded you from behind, the smacking of your ass against his upper thighs echoing throughout the room. 
He moaned softly at the squelch of your cunt swallowing him, a creamy white ring surrounding the base of his cock every moment he pulled out.
“D-Dick, p-please baby-”
“Gotta breed you baby.. Show all these fuckers that you’re mine and get you pregnant. You’d like that huh? All full with my baby, my cum deep inside this needy lil’ pussy, hm? You want that princess?” You felt him smirk against your skin as he never faltered, his cock reaching so deep inside you–fuck this man would be the end of you.
He may have seemed like a sweet guy, and he definitely was.. Him in bed on the other hand, he was dirty, disgusting, nasty with the way he talked. 
���You’re my lil’ fleshlight aren’t you? Just a wet little hole to stick my dick into, huh? S’all you’re good for?” 
Tears pooled at the bottom of your eyes, your pussy throbbed at his words, no matter how offended you really were from them. 
“S-S’mean Dee..” you cooed before he lifted you up to rest your back on his chest, groping your tits in one hand as the other trailed down your plump stomach and towards your pussy. 
“Mean? I would never, baby. How could you accuse me of such a thing? All I do is treat you so fuckin’ well, don’t I?” Dick mumbled as his fingers started to toy with your clit, his middle finger rubbing the sensitive nub in circles as he continued his brutal pace on your weeping cunt. “F-fuck..” he whined as he pulled away for a moment to look down at where the two of you were connected, his cum from earlier rounds already starting to pool onto the bedsheets and trailing down your thighs. “S’good to me, ya know that? Such a good girl..” Fuck it was starting to become too much for him, but it felt so fucking good..
“G-Gonna come, Dee–fuck!” you whimpered as you fell back into the sheets with your face squished against the pillows, gripping the blanket into your hands tightly. 
“F-fuckin’ come baby, come all over this cock..” He coos through clenched teeth, his nails lightly digging into your plush skin as his thrusts sped up. 
Whiney breaths leave your throat as your climax starts building, before the coil in your tummy finally snaps, your juices gushing around him as he let out a whine and threw his head back. 
“C-Come inside me, Dick–please!” you squeal with your face squished into the pillow to muffle your needy whines as his cock twitched inside you. 
“I know baby, I know–fuckk!” he groaned as you felt him release inside you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls a creamy white, giving a few shallow thrusts before stilling inside you, pants and heavy breathing leaving both of your lips as you sat in silence. 
Despite your best efforts and hours of him being inside you, he was still.. Unnecessarily hard..
You whine as you try to crawl away from his needy hands before he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back to flip you onto your back, a few pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead as he looks down at you with a grin painting his plush lips. Gosh it’s like he was trying to kill you.
“P-please my love, let’s rest.. M’sensitive..” you whimpered as he chuckled lightly before grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing your legs towards your chest.
“Said ya’ wanted to help me..” he cooed as he leant down with his lips ghosting over yours. 
“So, help me..”
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friendshapedplant · 2 years ago
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[ID: A couple of sepia-toned drawings featuring Kirby characters. The first has Marx and Dark Matter Blade floating through space, slightly beaten up. Marx says with a smile in rounded text, "Wanna hear another joke?" Dark Matter Blade responds in jagged text, "...All I want is for the void to claim my soul quickly..."
The second drawing is a sketch of Bandana Waddle Deein the foreground, his back to the viewer as he looks at Marx and Dark Matter Blade up in the sky though a telescope. He exclaims n all caps text, "Wanya?!" Around him are the animal friends Rick, Kine, and Coo, and in the top right corner being Dark Matter Blade is Zero. /End ID]
Happy Birthday!
…To Marx and Dark Matter Blade!
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“It’s okay. My future BF should be by in his ship any time now!”
LAST MINUTE EDIT: YOU TOO, BANDANNA WADDLE DEE ET AL!
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(Zero has come to pick up Dark Matter Blade, Thank Void, but Marx still has a dozen or so years to go before Magolor finds him…)
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taurasiluvr · 7 months ago
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ry can i be the 💐 emoji?
alsoooooo cannot stop thinking about calling diana 'daddy' while she scissors me, kissing my ankle and calling me her good girl 🤍🤍🤍🤍
omg anon stop that's gonna make me go insane
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diana's hands would be pushing your legs further apart as she rubs herself against you, ignoring your whimpering and the anticipation and need building to a fever pitch. she rubbed herself against you, her pussy sliding along your slick folds, teasing you mercilessly.
"daddy, please," you'd pleaded, your voice trembling with a mix of desperation and desire.
she'd keep ignoring your cries, her focus solely on driving you wild with need. her movements were deliberate, each rub sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, but never quite enough to bring you over the edge.
"look at you," dee murmured, her voice low and husky. "so desperate, so fuckin' needy. is this what you wanted, baby? to be reminded of who you belong to?"
"yes," you gasped, your hands clutching at the sheets as you tried to push back against her, seeking more friction, more contact. "yes, daddy, please, need you."
"that's right, fuck," she said, her tone commanding. "you're mine, all mine. my good fuckin' girl,"
with that, she shifted her position slightly, aligning herself with your slick and puffy pussy. she'd beginning rubbing herself against you, harshly, leaving no room for you to even breathe. you cried out, the sensation overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and overstimulation.
dee set a relentless pace, each rub driving hard, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. her hands gripped your ankles, holding you steady as she took you hard and fast. the room filled with the sounds of your combined moans and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin.
"daddy," you whimpered, your voice breaking as you felt the tension within you coil tighter, ready to snap.
"cum for me, baby," dee growled, her own voice rough with arousal. "let go."
with her permission, you let yourself fall over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a force that left you breathless. your body trembled, your vision blurred, and all you could do was hold on as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.
dee continued to move, drawing out your orgasm until you were a quivering, spent mess beneath her. finally, she slowed, her thrusts becoming gentle, almost tender, as she brought herself to climax. she let out a deep groan, her body shuddering as she found her own release, her lips finding your ankles as she peppered kisses all over them.
then she'd collapsed next to you, pulling you into her arms, both of you panting and spent. she'd held you close, her fingers gently stroking your hair as you both came down from the high.
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thanks anon for the thought! & if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!
with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚
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thehelltingvilleclub · 3 days ago
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Jerry Stokes - Champion Card Player and Professional Goober
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Jerome “Jerry” Titus Stokes Jr. [10/02/80] [6'0. Yes, Bill is mad about this.] Secretary of Fantasy and Role-Playing Games AOL / Online Users: [XxLordxXxAtrocityxX] Theme Songs: Chronically Cautious - Braden Bales | Undone - The Sweater Song - Weezer | Polygon Dust - Porter Robinson Favorite Shit: Middle-Earth, Magic Cards, Percentile Dice, He-Man, Final Fantasy, Dragons, Tabletop Gaming, Conan, Studio Ghibli, Discworld, LARPs, Legend of Zelda, Earthsea, Yawgmoth’s Will, Gen-con, Xena, Aerith Gainsborough, Elfquest, White Magic
Therapy, check. Meds, check. Keys, check. Godsend Card Wars deck, check. EXTRA Card Wars deck in case some fucker tries to one up him, check... shit what is he forgetting *now*? It took him growing a backbone and his parents to finally get his ass to the doctor, but hey, at least he's here now, right??? right????? He's still trying to get Bill to come with him to the office to deal with his anger issues but it's like trying to climb Mordor bro; not gonna happen any time soon.
He's managed to make some new friends in the process, who knew?! Actually going to tournaments is so much more fun than just following Bill around all day--
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I have the Power!
Jerry used to take Piano, as his parents tried to get him into as many extra curriculars when he was in elementary as they could to get him out of their hair (And.. hey, at least he learned something..?)
Because of this, he occasionally plays by himself on the practice piano he got as a kid, though usually it's just him learning soundtracks or transcribing the entirety the Ocarina of Time by ear.
y'know. normal everyday shit.
He has a habit of forgetting to trim his nails, however he keeps them relatively neat-- filed down and this dude actually showers and washes his hands like a maniac if he gets dirty, so it's not that bad. Plus, he's convinced it helps him pick up cards better without folding them.
Let's be honest, Jerry forgets a lot of things sometimes in his anxious scramble to get places. Including meals on occasion, which usually results in Josh jumping him as an excuse to get another snack for them both.
Would be willing to have his nails painted, absolutely, but will probably pick it off within the day as a fidget. Sorry guys.
Jerry met Matt at a Card tournament and they became rather quick friends-- and Matt whooped his ass when they played so he had to give the guy some props.
This dude gets the WORST bedhead and he barely does anything about it, just don't make fun of him if his hair is flat in the back please please please--
Jerry. Likes. Stripes. I feel like his mom dressed him up as the Girl who got sick with the Stripes once when he was a toddler cause he got covered in paint and it just *stuck*.
Jerry has also worn the same style of shoe and brand for the past 15 years he's not gonna start changing it now, fuckers
Can you tell he has a separation issue? no? then open your EYES.
This man absolutely gets ass his phone and aol are blowing UP like ALL THE FUCKIN TIME and he's so overwhelmed that he just ignores them all most of the time. most.
He ends up mostly subsisting off of tournament winnings and doing random odd jobs around the neighborhood, but at least it's enough to get him more cards and a bus ticket into Manhattan when he needs it.
Jerry still goes Bee-dee Bee-dee, he doesn't drop it entirely until post 2005-ish, when he meets Mandi. He DOES however, still use Buck as a nickname, cope. it's my world now.
cough uh he hates the feeling of underwear. those are basketball shorts. OOPS
god I love Jerry he's such a little dork
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OKAY JOSHYBEAR IS NEXT Im gonna sob I also still have to draw May and Matt's cards...
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fyuck
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pedge-page · 18 days ago
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Red Carpet Debut
Dieter Bravo x F!Reader
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Summary: It is neither your nor Dieter's red carpet debut
Warnings: assisted masturbation, car masturbation, fingering, public, exhibition, cheating
18 + ONLY
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Dieter's manager and publicist warn him about not taking you to his red carpets. He's barely on good streaks when you're around, and they want him to go one premiere without causing a scene.
But you're also his kryptonite. And when you tell him how you were planning to spend the evening touching yourself, watching him on TV, he couldn't not bring you.
His manager rolls her eyes in the front seat as you two slide in the back together. Dieter hopelessly in love puppy eyes not breaking from you once. You looked stunning, like he was YOUR date and not the other way around.
"God I can't wait to get my hands on you after all this," he purrs, clenching his teeth and scanning your cleavage. His calloused palm cups your bedazzled gown covering your breast.
"Why not now?" You whisper. You grasp his hand and put it under your dress. Without another word, he slips his fingers between your naked slit, rubbing in quick circles. You're already wet for him.
"Fuck," he hums into your neck. "Wanna kiss you so bad." He leans closer, desperate to put his lips on yours, but you tut him.
"Makeup," you breathe. You knew it was torture for you both, but the least you could do was try to obey his managers rules. If he couldn't keep you away, then at least keep it as inobvious as possible.
Dee continues to finger your pussy, your legs spreading a little wider to let him explore. He was always so good at making you cum, as if quickies were his specialty. You'd only been in the car for 2 minutes but we're quickly building up a climax.
You draw his face to you, his nose nudging yours. "You want me to cum? All over this seat and your fingers?"
"Fuck-fuck yeah baby. Want it all messy for me. Wanna be thinking bout my cock in there all night." His eyes are so heavy, filled with lust. "M' so fuckin hard right now," he groans.
The evidence of his arousal is clearly tented in his slacks. Even now wearing his special compression underwear, specifically designed to prevent his boners from making its red carpet debut at the slightly sight of a woman's wardrobe malfunction titty slip, they were no match when he was full blazing rock hard.
You bite your lip, closing your eyes. You couldnt laugh, knowing you still failed miserably to keep him "inobvious". Fuck you were close. His pointer and middle were sliding in v formation, trapping your clit each time. The car was filled with the smell of your sex and the muffled sounds of your squelching heat.
You finally release, shivering under his touch as your orgasm washes over you. He let's out satisfied whimpers from his throat, working you through it, all sticky and hot and satisfying.
"Shit," he moans, pulling his fingers and sticking them straight in his mouth. "Take care of me?" He gestures down to his obvious 'problem' at the crotch.
"Ohhh, but. Baby," you pout. "My makeup."
"You can use your hands--!"
"Cant make a mess over your trousers, Dee," his manager says from thr front. The poor woman, trying to stay nonchalant on her phone.
He let's out a sigh. Shit, how was he gonna take care of this before--
"We're here!"
You pat his cheek, a polite smile on your face before slipping out the car and walking towards the carpet on your own, making good on your promise not to be seen with Dieter as far as the photographers can capture.
His manager looks back at Dieter, his flush face, then down to his obviously errection standing straight up like the Eiffel Tower in that ridiculously hot pink suit. Leaving it all out and absolutely no way of hiding.
"Fucking Shit, Bravo." She shakes her head and gets out, slamming the doors shut. Another fiasco she couldn't prevent. Whatever. She's off to the bar to enjoy before officially turning over her resignation, already picturing the tabloids of him walking this carpet with the biggest fucking hard on for the world to see.
And that's exactly what happens. Dieter ponies up out of the car, waves with big smiles to fans and photographers, as everyone snaps photos and stares with jaws dropped to his very prominent (and very gifted) barbie pink tented boner. He walks with as much Bravo swagger as he always carries the entire carpet like that.
You're just the right distance away that nobody puts any focus on you. Hes clearly looking for you each turn and step down the carpet. Like a helpless puppy dazzled by lights and sounds but wanting his companion close by. A glutton for punishment and its subsequent reward, unable to learn after each trial.
That's your Dieter.
"Hi baby!"
Your husband, conveniently the producer of this same film, spots you and immediately wraps himself into you for a kiss. "Thought you were staying in the hotel?"
"Hi honey." You grin sweetly, kissing his lips with a peck. "I wanted to come see you."
He smiles, grasping your waist and bringing you up the stairs. None the wiser, and entirely content his wife was able to make yet another one of his big day's.
- - - -
Taglist
@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist
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chaotic-iguana · 1 year ago
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Twisted Love
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summary: as we know, im a bit of a gremlin. i take ur asks and fucking add my own spin. here we are. its like a “joel edges reader, reader accidentally comes” with SUPER dark twists. let me know what you think. feel free to (gently) yell at me because honestly @breakfastatjoels is the only reason i decided to post (love you dee)
pairing: dark! joel x reader
wordcount: 2.3k
warnings: survivalism, dubcon, dark!joel, edging, dom/sub dynamics, pussy slapping, very out of my comfort zone writing this, stockholm syndrome, this joel is everything husband joel is not. hes a dick please dont acc be in these kinds of relationships, swearing (no bc me being a smartass and adding swearing as if its worse than STOCKHOLM SYNDROME), choking, slapping, passing out and keep going, somno? i think?, dacryphilia, he’s a genuine fucking asshole
A/N: please be warned that this is not a vanilla smut fic, it follows some super dark themes. unlike my other fics, no “soft” joel, or aftercare; no checking in or wiping tears. also forewarning, i do not support relationships that are in fact like this. i am not glorifying sa or abuse. dont want any anons in my inbox tearing me a new one. 
masterlist // navigation
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Four hours. You’d been tied to the bed spreadeagle for four hours. Your wrists and ankles had chafed, you’d nearly lost your voice, and you couldn’t seem to stop trembling.
Joel had one hand on your stomach, pressing down, and another between your legs, bringing you to orgasm after orgasm only to pull away at the last second to watch you buck your hips into thin air, chasing friction, as your high ebbed away again. And then he would start again. And again. And again.
By now, you were gone. Your mind had long been wiped clean of coherent thought. Broken moans and whines escaped you as you tried to beg despite having seemingly forgotten the ability to articulate yourself - you could barely manage short gasps of breath in between sobs; words were proving to be near-impossible. 
A dizzying chant of Joel, Joel, Joel, took up your mind as he wrenched his fingers out of you once again, just a second too late to accomplish what he wanted. No; in your desperate, hyper-sensitive state, that split second alone was enough to send you into a  spiral: toes-curling, back-arching and your breath coming in sharp gasps as an orgasm that had your vision whiting out for a few seconds washes over you.
Joel glared down at you, the vision barely registering to you past the buzz of euphoria, eyes rolling back as reality faded away. He gripped your jaw then, snapping you out of the daze by bringing a hand down on your cunt, repeatedly striking the sensitive folds, the painful sting heightened by your orgasm. 
 At the pitiful groans of protest and the way your legs contorted against the bindings to fall into themselves; instinct taking over to protect you from his merciless assault, he rolled his eyes with a huff. 
“Y’gonna be a brat? Be a fuckin’ brat. ‘M not wastin’ my time on a girl that can’t behave.” 
Snapping his switchblade open, he leaned down to rip through your restraints before turning and walking out of the room without another word.
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That had been a week ago. You had spent an hour curled in on yourself, numb in disbelief that he’d just left. You hadn’t meant to go against his wishes, your body had just taken over and practically pushed you over the edge. You knew the deal-  of course you did, it was seared into your fucking mind- it’s what kept you alive. 
It was an offer he had spat at you with a blade pressed to your neck, a decree that signed your body over to him. He’d let you live and keep you alive, and in return all you had to do was obey him; be his “good little girl”, as he put it. All you had to do in exchange for your safety was listen to him, do what he told you to. 
A paralyzing fear had gripped you since that day you had accidentally defied him, death looming over your head like a guillotine you couldn’t quite see just yet but knew was inevitably coming. 
You’d hated the arrangement at first, resisting it; resisting him. But once he had made it abundantly clear that there was no way for you to leave, nowhere you could go, you found yourself fighting back less. Life had already been so long, taken so much from you already. You’d never have to worry again. He’d keep you safe. Despite his inherent brutality, he took care of you; more care than anyone else had taken since the world went to shit. He made sure you ate enough, slept in better spots, showers. When you had nightmares, he’d set a bruising pace against you and rut until your head emptied of every thought but his. 
Your disdain for him faded over time, and you began craving him. You wanted him under your skin, you wanted to feel him and nothing else, to be reduced to a mindless mess as damp sheets clung to your skin. Wanted his bites and bruises, wanted his grip on your thighs, your waist, your neck. Slowly, you wanted him. A twisted love characterised by dizzying need for him to rip you apart and put you back together infected your mind. To be with you, hold you, praise you. And you were perfect for him as a result, wanting nothing but to keep him happy. 
He, however, hadn’t so much as looked at you all week. If he said anything, it was bit out in your general direction as an afterthought; an inconvenience. It was like he’d stopped caring where you were, how you were. Pent up and needing him, needing to feel the scrapes of his callouses against your skin, his teeth nipping your flesh, you simply endured it all fearfully. Your arrangement had gone on long enough that you genuinely did not know if he would follow through - but you’d seen enough of what he was capable of not to risk it. You may have your own infatuation with the man, but you weren’t stupid. When he stood jaw clenched, shoulders tense, and with that crazed glint in his eye, you did not speak to him; your self-preserving habit of pointing out his tells blaring at you to run. If you so much as stepped too close to him on days like these, you’d see how blown out his pupils were, how his face was set in an expression that made it difficult to identify him, before he’d pin you to the nearest wall and use his mouth, fingers, cock, blade handle, beer bottle and makeshift toys on you until you passed out, and then he’d keep going until exhaustion overtook him. Which, for a man that size, often took over a day. 
So you settled for trying your best to impress him. Wore that dress he liked, did your hair in a ponytail because you knew it made his fingers itch to tug at it, painted your lips with a shadow of red and just followed him like a lost puppy, without stopping or complaining once. Didn’t matter how many gashes you got on your hands and knees from getting your foot caught on sharp edges or rocks he didn’t warn you of anymore, didn’t matter how hungry or thirsty you were with him neglecting to pass the canteen back to you, didn’t matter how badly his biting comments hurt you or how many tears filled your eyes, you followed him without complaint.  
But it had been a week, and your resolve had started to break. If he was going to kill you, he had to do it now. The buildup, the constant fear, the desperation to impress him, the cuts and bruises now littering your body, the hungry ache in your stomach - they all reached a point where your knees just buckled, and you just couldn’t. Joel was ahead of you, still trudging on without so much as glancing in your direction, not even after the pathetic wail that sounded from you as you fell to your knees. Gasping out his name, wincing at the rasp of your voice from the disuse, you watched his steps falter as he looked at you over his shoulder, and kept walking. 
“No, no, no, please Joel, please.” Tears began streaming down your face, your body shaking with the force of the devastation sweeping through you as you began crawling after him. This made him stop and turn, brow raised and mouth set in a cruel smile as he took in your form. He took slow, deliberate strides to where you lay on the ground, elbows given out, and looked down at you. 
“Please, what?” His dark eyes were glittering as he smirked at you, watching you crumble before his very eyes. 
“No more. ‘M sorry, I’m so sorry I won’t ever go against what you say again. Didn’t mean to come - it just happened n’ I couldn’t stop it. I’ve been so good for years, Joel. I’m s-sorry, please I’m so sorry.” Cheeks burning hot with humiliation, you could barely meet his gaze as you began begging the man you’d sworn to kill when you first met him. Begged him to take care of you, to forgive you. 
He crouched low, reaching a hand out to tip your chin up and meet your eyes. 
“Need me?” A jeering, boisterous laugh. “Do ya, now?” At your nod, he snorted. “You forget who’s in control -once, just once - I fuckin’ leave you then and there. Clear?” Another nod. “Take what I give you this time.” Not a question, but you find yourself nodding feverishly anyways, making his lips twitch as he grasped you and lifted you into his arms the rest of the way. 
Joel spotted a cabin while trudging through the rough terrain, your hands around his neck and torso flush against his chest as you hung limp in his arms, half-asleep. Deciding to settle there for the night, he barely took a minute to scout the place out before he was making his way to the bedroom. He dropped you onto the bed before turning to strip his flannel and trousers off. Watching you blink in confusion as you started to wake up, he scoffed, tangling a hand in your hair, flipping you onto yoru back, and yanking your head to the edge of the bed. 
Giving you no time to brace yourself, Joel shoved the blunt head of his cock between your lips, working your jaw open as he starting using your mouth. One of hands came to rest on your exposed neck, putting enough pressure to feel himself moving in and out of your throat, while the other gripped the edge of the bed next to your head, intermittently coming up to slap your tits, your stomach, your thighs - anywhere he could reach. The sounds of your garbled choking and gasping filled the room, Joel using your mouth like a fleshlight. 
Refusing you a single second of reprieve to get your breath, he kept rocking his hips until you were lightheaded and there were spots in your vision, consciousness fading. When he glanced down and realised you were about to pass out, he pulled himself flush against your mouth and stayed there, drool and spit spluttering from your nose as you struggled to accommodate him, struggling against him until you blacked out. 
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When you came to, you were lying on your stomach, hair still in Joel’s grip and head held back. Your hands were tied to the headboard in front of you with the underwear you had been wearing all day, and his fingers were bruising your waist in his grip as he pounded into you from behind. 
You could feel that you had lost some time. Come and blood streaked all over your jaw, neck and chest, and you could feel some drying on your back, thighs and stomach as well. Moreover, you were drenched. Covered from head to toe in a mixture of blood, sweat, saliva and cum. You could see skin on your chest and stomach swollen and red, broken by his teeth, which had left permanent indents into the flesh. Blinking steadily, you realised that the sun was up, the room bathed in the first few rays of dawn. 
“Welcome back, sweetheart.” His rasp from behind you had a shudder dancing down your spine, straightening up slightly. You could barely sob your response - the new angle had your eyes rolling back, and you could feel yourself being jolted up the bed by the sheer force of his thrusts into you. 
Feeling the muscles of your stomach tense, you hardly had the rationality to start babbling a half-understandable “Gonna cum, ‘m g-mmh-cum,” before feeling him shift his hand on your hip to move it between your legs, swiping over your clit with just enough pressure to bring you to your peak - before he leaned down to snarl into your ear. 
“Don’t come.” At your whimper, he laughed. “Y’wanna live? Be good f’me? Don’t you dare fucking come.” You felt your muscles lock up, a pitiful whine leaving your mouth as you staved off your orgasm, tensing so hard against it that your whole body hurt. Your legs were shaking with the force of holding off, and you felt Joel smile into your shoulder in approval before he moved his arm under your thigh, lifting it as the strength of his hips snapping into yours increased, making you scream when his fingers returned to your folds. 
He reveled in the wails that were piercing the silence of the room, at the force with which you began convulsing in the effort to obey him. Sucking a bruise into the skin behind your ear, he let you suffer for a few more plunges of his tip into your cervix until he felt his own climax fast approaching, uttering a permissive “Come,” until you were gripping him so hard his vision whited out for a few moments. Watching your hand come around to the back of his head, body trembling as you moaned low and near-pained next to him, he stayed inside you for a few seconds before pulling out and stepping into his jeans immediately, watching you collapse onto the bed from overexertion. 
He just reached across the bed to twist a particularly large bruise between his index finger and thumb, savoring your squeak of fear and the tears streaming down your face. 
“Best get cleaned up quick. We gotta lot’a ground to cover today.” And with that, he was walking out again. At least this time, you knew he’d keep you around. 
hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore , @evyiione , @breakfastatjoels  , @millerscoffee dividers by @cafekitsune!! cover by the AMAZING @pedrosaidsheispunk. what a LEGEND. 
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