#thank god self restraint

[chilegp]

i was gonna post the LAMEST shit ever oh my god i read it over while writing it and god damn that was embarrassing

[ewwap]

Doting Yandere x Transmasc Reader

Y/n's tongue traced his teeth, rubbing the slimiest parts in disgust. How long ago had Oliver kidnapped him? Y/n hadn't kept track, too focused on the fact he hadn't been able to brush his teeth this entire time. Y/n's eyes soullessly dragged from their firm position looking at the floor to Oliver's face, comforting, and in Y/n's mind, in complete contrast to the heinous actions he had committed. Oliver noticed Y/n looking at him and like a puppy, his face lit up.

"It's alright Y/n." He soothed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder--who had no will to flinch away anymore. "I'm taking care of you here. You don't need to worry about anything any longer."

Oliver smiled sympathetically as if he was not the one who created the situation Y/n was now in. Of course, he did, being so rich and coddled--Y/n was the first person to not act like a yes man and let Oliver get away with anything he wanted. God, Oliver had been waiting for someone like that. Someone who wouldn't suck up to him, someone real.

Something snapped in Y/n over the line of Oliver taking care of him. He grit his grimy teeth and glared.

"Taking care of me? Hah." Y/n scoffed. "For the entire time I've been held up in this manor of yours I have not been able to brush my teeth once! Do you want my teeth to rot? Hmm? Do you want my jaw to ache from cavities and my teeth to turn black?"

Y/n's hands balled into fists. However, there was not much else his hands could do--being restrained in expensive cuffs.

"Not only that--I haven't been able to wash my face! Do you know how oily my face gets when I don't take care of it? It disgusts me. You disgust me." Y/n turned his head away. "And you have the gall to say you're taking care of me."

If Y/n had looked at Oliver's face he would've seen an expression of pure guilt and utter defeat. Y/n felt two strong arms warp around him, one hand wrapped around his waist and the other patting his head. Y/n remained defiant in looking away.

"I'm sorry Y/n... I'll do better." Oliver buried his face in Y/n's neck, embarrassed at his incompetence.

How was he supposed to be everything Y/n needed if he was too drugged by Y/n's presence to remember to brush his teeth? No, he had to do better.

______________________________________________________________

Y/n sulked in his golden prison, looking out the window at the gardens that were so well maintained. He looked at the flowers, blooming with vibrance. At that moment, he felt like a wilting lily, drying up because its master had neglected to water it.

Oliver opened the door, making sure to close it and wait for the click as it automatically locked. He drunkenly took in the sight of Y/n, but his heartbeat flattened at Y/n's lack of a smile.

"Love... I've done some research. I've found the most luxurious products for your face type--I even found the perfect cleansings for your hair! Oh, and of course, the toothpaste, quality, of course." He paused. "Only the best for you, Angel."

Soon, Oliver had Y/n in the en suite bathroom, his love in a fluffy bathrobe on a stool.

'Say aaaahhh~" Oliver held out the toothbrush, wetted after applying the toothpaste per Y/n's preferences.

"I can brush my teeth myself." Y/n glared at the toothbrush, feeling babied.

"I'm not sure I can trust you out of the handcuffs yet, Angel." Oliver smiled sweetly "Remember what happened last time?"

Y/n practically growled.

"Fine." Y/n opened his mouth, allowing Oliver to brush his teeth.

Soon, Y/n found himself in a bath, bubbles and sweet-smelling oils in the warm water. He tried to remind himself it was fine, Oliver had seen him like this before. Still, Y/n felt uneasy. He knew Oliver would never hurt him, but one glance at Oliver's face reconfirmed he was restraining himself from doing something else.

Oliver tried to steady his breathing, god, Y/n was ethereal. Every feature so perfect. It took all of his strength to keep his blood in his brain. Of course, he had to wait. He would wait forever for Y/n.

He took special care in scrubbing Y/n down, tracing Y/n's skin as if it were the softest material on earth. Accidentally spending longer than he intended to wash Y/n's thighs.

He hummed as he massaged the shampoo into Y/n's scalp. Rinsing before applying conditioner and lathering it in Y/n's hair. Y/n's perfect beautiful hair that he would find himself running his hands through. Oliver brought out a facial scrub to put on Y/n, coincidentally caressing Y/n's face as he rubbed it in and washed it off.

Oliver brought a cream out and traced Y/n's top surgery scars, marveling at how a body could be so perfect. How even a scar--which he had been taught was an imperfection or a flaw--could be so beautiful.

Finally, Oliver scooped Y/n up before wrapping him in a warm fluffy towel. He placed Y/n down as if he weighed nothing and dried him off softly, taking extra care with Y/n's precious face and hair.

______________________________________________________________

Later, Y/n was dressed in soft comfortable clothes, a new pair of handcuffs linking his hands together. Oliver was snuggling with Y/n, clinging to him like a koala. He sighed dreamily, as always, Y/n was right. He took a deep breath, drinking Y/n in. He was so beautiful like this. He looked at Y/n's resting figure, slight unease on his face even in his sleep.

"Don't worry love. Nobody will hurt you here, I'll give you anything you want. The world is at your fingertips, all you need to do is ask." Oliver pressed a kiss onto Y/n's forehead. "My angel."

[gaylittleguys]

I can’t believe twitters maybe exploded for real this time I was starting to have fun there :(

[manaosdeuwu]

that one guy from that one tiktok video voice: HEEEEELP. HELP ME

drew that shit on my fingers to want those tattoos less and it had the opposite effect i am NOT beating the allegations .

[cuntstable]

just queued like 30 jojo posts so im feeling extra normal and well today. btw

[trans-leek-cookie]

(ID in alt text but also I'm bad at describing expression sorry)

I think this is how my bank looks at me giving 25$ like. 50 times to random ppl online. After having a credit card for probably <90 days

[humanmorph]

outer wilds thoughts on time loops (at the end of the universe)

whats interesting about being able to die now (because you can stop the ash twin project and break the time loop), is that you as the player are in fact still looping. its just not experienced by the player character anymore.

like, the time loop reset is something that feels really neat and cool because it is an in-game explanation (that the game revolves around!) for a very basic videogame concept of respawning after death. everything you do, and go through, is also actually experienced by the character that i am controlling. our experiences line up 100% which makes it so easy to get really immersed. (the same applies to the in-game UI, too. aside from the button prompts, you only get a health/oxygen display/map/etc when you get in the suit. i think i could use the word diegetic here?) as the timeloop, well, loops, you also experience the flashback thing, which is again, an in-game experience aswell. the main menu screen says “continue expedition”.

this gets broken by dying after you break the timeloop. theres a “YOU ARE DEAD” screen and the credits play (no music, just the text scroll). ive never sat through all of them so i dont know if theres anything else at the end, but if you press a button it brings you right back to the main menu, which now says “load previous save”. and thats just so. it breaks the immersion from before but in a way that i think is interesting, if jarring. at its most critical moment (the endgame! well, im fairly sure it is at least.) i am through my failure reminded that This Is A Video Game. (theres of course another choice the devs could have made here, which is to set a failure at this point of the game as a definitive game over. it would make sense if you would look at the in-game lore and how the gameplay has presented itself so far. the reason they didnt of course is that that would suck. its hostile to players. which is a choice you can make, and it can work for an art piece, but i AM glad it wasnt made here. it probably just wouldve meant that people would find a way to load a save anyways or that way less people would finish the game at all.)

oh, and to get back to my original point: im still looping. the game resets for me. but the experience of me and the experience of the player character do not line up anymore. they did not in fact get to The Eye Of The Universe only to fall in a ditch and wait around to die. (or, well, they did, but only /i/ know that. they didnt retain the memories of that, which was was the point of the ash twin project, to send memories back). this all is very cool to me. i love time loops and video games are such a ripe medium for them anyways & outer wilds does great stuff with it.

these are all things im sure smarter people and actual critics have said better (and i think i will search those out after i finish playing) but well! i wanted to type it out. thanks for reading

[webbluvrsugar]

req from nonnie (accidentally lost it, T-T): hi sugar! would you be wiling to write ethan x fem!reader doing it raw for the first time? if it's something ur not comfortable with, that's totally fine, and i apologize!

love your writing, and if you please, i'll be glad to spam your inbox with E requests!

a/n: don't worry babe! toats comfortable with it!! Also thank you so much!! And yesss, send them my way!

doing it raw for the first time (you’re never using a condom again).

“Don’t put it on this time.” You said, well, now Ethan is really wishing he had put it on because he feels like he might just bust inside you right away.

Shit, you’re so tight, it’s so much different, so much better, he can feel every bit of your insides squeezing him in as he thrusts in and out of you, and you’ve never been this whiny during sex, you’re needy today, whimpering and moaning his name over and over;

“Ethan, you’re so.. big.” You say, “Ethan, can’t take it.” you say.

My god, this is exactly why he always kept the condom on, because he knows that he doesn’t have this much self restraint to let you moan these things and not finish inside you immediately, still, he’s doing a good job at holding back.

“Jesus, you’re such a fucking slut.” He breathes, drags a hand up your chest just to slightly clench it around your neck, rutting into you quicker, harsher. “You like it like this, huh? Have thought of being full of my cum, huh?” He spats.

And while he’s holding back, you on the other hand are blissful.

It feels so good, you can feel every vein and it’s like he’s so much bigger, like the tip of his cock hits that spot inside of you so much better it’s addictive. Your whole body is addicted to it, you want him to keep burying himself inside you over and over.

“God — I’m so close.” You moan, drag your nails down his back.

How dare you? — he thinks. You can cum all you want when he’s here doing enough effort to make sure you don’t get pregnant too soon, sooner than you’d want to anyways. And he wants to punish you, wants to make you hold it back like he is, but you look so pretty like this, brows furrowed, eyes closed, lips parted in slow gaps as you seek for that release.

So instead of punishing your behaviour, he encourages it.

“Yeah? Do it.” He demands almost. “Do it, come on, give it to me.”

He speeds on his thrusts, squeezes down your throat and makes sure it’s just the way you like it, because he knows that sooner or later, that’ll make you turn into mush underneath him.

And when you do, he finally pulls out and finishes all over your tummy.

Next time, he’s not sure if he’ll be able to pull out.

[sleepingdeath-light]

hey:D ‼️ slashers x a femme bimbo reader? i would love michael, tommy, vincent+ bo, and jennifer? (whoever else u choose is fine) please and thank you!

Bimbo S/O Headcanons | Multiple Slashers (18+)

thank you for requesting, anon!

reader is assumed as being female and a bimbo

there’s no sex described, but there’s a lot of sexual talk around the reader, hence the smut tag

this includes : billy lenz, brahms heelshire, carrie white, jennifer check, michael myers, the sinclair twins & thomas hewitt

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

billy lenz

billy is a pervert by nature and would have sexualised you irrespective of how you acted or what you wore (when there’s a will, there’s a way and all of that)

but you being a bimbo made it all so much easier and so much more enjoyable for the unknown voyeur

it seemed like everything you did have him an erection as he stared at you through cracks in the ceiling and walls and doors

how your short pink skirt would ride up and show your pretty panties whenever you bent over or sat down

how your tight white shirt did little to hide your breasts or the fact that you’d opted to go braless

the way you frequently stumbled and tripped in those pink heels — exposing your ass to him more often than even he could have wished for

all of that was enough of a dream come true, but the moment you picked up the phone and he got a true exposure to your delightfully ditzy and naively trusting persona this man was a goner

you were his dream-girl through-and-through

his pretty piggy who’s only good at taking billy’s thick cock into her dumb holes

his bimbo that has no chance of escaping him or his lewd calls and comments

of course you were his the moment you stepped foot in his house, but you continuously exposing yourself for him (as he perceived it, anyway) just gave him the go ahead to claim you entirely

and you’d best believe that he’ll want you dressing as sluttily as possible at all times

bo sinclair

although he tends to present himself as the perfect southern gentleman at first glance, bo is a verifiable pervert with pretty much no shame

it would have taken a remarkable amount of self restraint for him to keep up the act in front of your group — especially with you looking and acting like that

tight shirt, mini skirt and a body that he just wanted to lose himself in

god it was like you were made for him, but that could wait until he had splintered your group

but until then, he sated himself by glancing down your top whenever you leaned forwards, lifting up your skirt whenever he got the chance and catching you whenever you tripped (getting away with many less-than-innocent touches due to your obliviousness)

his advances get more and more aggressive and obvious as your group is picked off one by one until you’re the only one left untouched and somehow still oblivious to your situation

and bo finds himself torn between keeping you around as an alibi and a good fuck, or just using and discarding you to vincent as he’d done before

in the end, of course, he ends up deciding to let you live whilst putting on a whole show of wooing you so that you think you’re staying willingly — justifying it by saying you’ll help future “tourists” feel at home

but his brothers can tell that he’s grown more than a little fond of your presence (beyond, even, your sex appeal and naïveté — shockingly to all involved, he actually seems to care)

brahms heelshire

you were not what anyone in the heelshire family were looking for when they sought out a nanny

you were clumsy and naive; not being able to do much in education or housework without inevitably messing something up

you were a veritable slut without the intent; with tiny skirts and translucent shirts that could barely even be considered clothing and that certainly weren’t conducive with the image they wanted to present as a family

but, to brahms, you were perfect

the perfectly dainty damsel in distress for him to leer and gawk at from behind the walls as you went about your day hopelessly attempting to abide by his schedule

and whilst you frequently forgot certain rules, he let you off — equally because he knew you weren’t acting intentionally and because he loved watching you too much to let you go

his favourite times of day were those that necessitated you coming into contact with water or bending over because they gave him the most wonderful views of your body that often appeared in his masturbation fantasies

loves the way you coo over and jokingly scold his doll — actually just loves hearing you say his name and talk to “him”

is much more possessive and protective when it comes to anyone bringing supplies to the house because of, well, everything about you

like it’s all well and good having a pretty little thing with nice tits and ass to stare at all day and night, but issues arise when somebody else gets to look at what’s his

and even if you’re too ditzy and naive to recognise the grocery boy’s intentions, brahms is all too aware of what goes on in a man’s head

and he may just take it upon himself to show everyone, including you, what happens when someone touches what belongs to him

carrie white

carrie was brought up in a highly conservative christian background — so, needless to say, your presence itself would be a significant shock to the poor girl

everything about you is a complete upturning of the values she was raised with, from your personality to the way you dressed

god, the way you dressed was sin personified and every time she caught herself staring she’d mutter a quick prayer for forgiveness

tight white shirts, short pink skirts and high pink heels — a recipe for disaster that she found herself drawn to

those miniskirts would so frequently ride up your thighs and expose your tiny pink panties to anyone who dared to look whenever you stalled in readjusting them (though they were always short enough to expose those thighs of yours)

those shirts that would turn wonderfully transparent whenever you got even slightly damp (be that through rain or spillage) and exposed your otherwise bare chest to prying eyes

those heels that were the cause of so many incidents like those above

and, values be damned, she was more thankful for your obliviousness than anything else as she didn’t know what she’d do if you recognised the way her peers leered at you

how she looked at you with so much lust, with eyes that lingered too long to be innocent on your chest and the apex of your thighs and your ass

how she thought of you whenever she touched herself, one hand balled up in a fist that she bit down on to muffle herself whilst the other crept between her legs to toy with her puffy lips and swollen clit and seeping hole

you, in all of your naïveté and clumsiness, were at the centre of all of her fantasies and she wanted nothing more than to keep you in the dark about it all for as long as possible

jennifer check

you and her will almost inevitably end up sharing clothing and/or accessories because your styles match so well

date nights will consist of you sharing skincare routines and doing each other’s makeup

she uses your nature and appearance to her benefit, ramping up her sexuality with you in public to help lure in men for her to kill and feed on

she repays you with plentiful sex, affection and spoiling with money she gets from her “boyfriends”

will shamelessly ogle you whenever you lean forwards or bend over and gets a kick out of flustering you just as much as when she gets away with being a complete perv

gropes you in public like all of the time and usually plays it off as innocent or accidental — would stop if you asked, though

50/50 whether she lets you in on what she’s doing so you can help or strings you along as an accomplice

loves how oblivious you are and gets off on the power dynamic between you and her as the more experienced, dominant partner

buys you the most transparent, slutty, short clothes that she can find for you both so you can match, she can get food, and she can see as much of you as possible at all times

she will shift targets on a dime if she notices someone getting too close to comfort and taking advantage you in the same way she does — and she makes a point to show everyone that you’re very much so taken

makes you wear underwear that she chooses so anyone else ogling you gets a blatant reminder of who you belong to

michael myers (any)

initially michael found your demeanour more annoying and inconvenient than anything else

you were attractive, of course, but your clumsiness and obliviousness just made him frustrated — made him want to stalk you to force you to notice the word around you

and he did. for well over a month

even going into your home and standing over you as you slept, rearranging things in your house, anything to get you to notice that something was up

but you never did

even when he confronted you on your walk home and started following you, very obviously, you just chatted with him as if nothing was wrong and how much of a coincidence it was you were going the same way

you even complimented his mask — which immediately made you more tolerable

and almost made up for the dozen times he’d watched you trip over thin air or otherwise expose yourself to people unintentionally

after a while he even became somewhat protective, targeting people that were sexually aggressive or otherwise weird towards you to get his frustrations out before returning to his routine of stalking you

at one point he began to masturbate to the sight of you — which he’d never been able to do given his life being spent entirely in an institution with no privacy

he takes full advantage of your naïveté to tease and manipulate you, especially after you realise who he is

he just signs that he won’t hurt you if you let him stay with you and don’t tell anyone he’s there

and you oblige

and he doesn’t hurt you

the only real change is having to deal with him shamelessly staring at you all of the time, but after you get together you don’t really mind so it’s not really that big of a deal

thomas hewitt

everything about you seems perfectly engineered to turn this poor man into a flustered, red-in-the-face, 404-ing mess

you’re not exactly what his mother had raised him to look for in a woman but that made you somehow more attractive? like a forbidden fruit in a sense

your high high heels that you constantly tripped over weren’t exactly made for life in their rural town but your confidence in them made him reluctant to have you change

those teeny-tiny shorts and skirts left nothing to the imagination when it came to those smooth, long legs and those brightly coloured thongs you wore and caused him a lot of trouble whenever he caught a glimpse of you and ended up dropping his tools

your thin white shirts that hoyt always managed to get wet somehow were incredibly form fitting and gave him the perfect view of your chest

but whilst your body and sexuality haunted his mind and left him wanting and guilty when he’d reach between his legs for relief at the end of the day — it was your demeanour that captured his heart and endeared him to you

your naïveté kept you up and out of the way of the family’s dirtier dealings and meant they didn’t have to hide anything too hard as you believed whatever they promised to you

he felt bad for lying but he also knew it was a necessary evil

and your clumsy nature meant that any guests felt more at ease around you, joking around and letting their guard down to flirt with you which made his job a whole lot easier

so, needless to say, you were definitely a good investment for the family even if you kept unintentionally torturing poor thomas with your displays of sexuality and femininity throughout the house

vincent sinclair

you immediately caught vincent’s eye when you entered ambrose because of how different you were from your companions

your clothes were more revealing and feminine: all light colours, cropped edges, frills, pastels and the whole nine yards

definitely a far cry from the muted neutrals and heavy jumpers that he usually saw

more artistically inspiring, barbie like even

it made you attractive, certainly, but it also made him want to preserve you as an art piece even more — he wanted to capture your beauty permanently

but then your personality endeared you to him

you were immediately kind and trusting towards his twin, which painted you as a very naïve person but the genuine way you defended him and scolded your friends for interrupting the “funeral” caught his heart

hell, even bo seemed taken a back by your demeanour (before trying to look down your shirt, of course)

and then there was the clumsiness that gave him the perfect view of each and every angle of your body that those short, tight clothes did little to hide as you stumbled and tripped over your heels in the museum

even gentlemen have their limits and, from what he justified as artistic curiosity, he indulged himself in plenty of looks

you even made him chuckle a few times when you apologised to the figures you fell onto

all of it, to him, made you seem so much better than your companions — someone worth saving and keeping as a living art piece in ambrose

it wouldn’t be hard to convince his brothers, they were always talking about needing some company

and, beside, you didn’t strike him as the sort to be hard to lie to

so if you believed your friends abandoned you, maybe you’d be happy to stay with them — and, maybe, you’d never have to learn about the truth of ambrose and it’s wax museum

and he’d get to ogle you all he liked from behind the safety of his mask (only as an artist, of course! he’d never sexualise you… or at least he tries to claim as much to himself)

[stuffed-frog]

I did and it’s worse than anything I’ve ever read and I may not be able to perceive jooster without thinking about it for a long time. If ever.

jeeves and wooster fans when mercury is in retrograde (idk i havent read the fic)

[gogotti]

Simon “Ghost” Riley/Fem! Reader NSFW

Thinking thoughts…..thinking so many thoughts. This is very self indulgent btw 😚 (that’s why it’s she/her instead of “you”). This also isn’t my typical style I just wrote this out so fast cause I NEEDED this to live in more than just my head lmfao

Warnings: ghost being kinda weird, obsessed!Ghost, breeding mentions, reader gets head, massage with evil intentions lmfao, this man is way to happy to have a wife

-

Ghost who’s just a bit too obsessed with the new seargent on the team, who constantly makes sure he’s the one who delivers her paperwork so he can point out the silly little decorations in her office, just so he can learn the name of her desk pets or hear the story behind the figurines and funkos strewn about. He makes sure to get her favorite coffee order once he learns what it is (he definitely didn’t snoop around in her morning trash after kindly offering to take it out), and always makes sure to get some snacks along with it.

He stands a bit too close to her and makes her look up at him over the rims of her glasses- she looks so pretty batting her lashes up at him (she’s literally just blinking). It gets to the point that he leans over her desk while she’s typing away, so focused on her work but making sure to look at him every once in a while as he rants about god knows what. Speaking of, shes so much shorter than him so he gets away with staring at her lips as she rants about some pissy lieutenant on base or the recruits she has to train. He makes sure he doesn’t get caught lecturing them or yelling their ears off in her honor.

He absolutely starts picking up some of her slang and using it mid sentence just to see her face twist in confusion when he uses it wrong or amusement because he uses it at all. Absolutely pretends to not hear her say something just so he can hear the frustration in her pretty voice as she repeats it for the 3rd time (he’s ears aren’t what they used to be, love, that’s all). Loves aggravating her, misplacing things in her office, eating the last of her snacks, all so he can hear how angry she gets when she notices or how whiny she gets when she sees the wrapper in the trash. (Dammit Johnny, how could you do that to her?)

It all begins to overflow when they’re assigned an undercover mission together, newlyweds in a nice gated neighborhood. Unfortunately for them the security feeds in the house are all monitored by the very people they’re trying to expose, so not only do they have to be all lovey dovey in public but also behind closed doors. He takes the news so much better than she (or Laswell for that matter) thought he would and he makes it very very apparent on the drive there that he’s going to make her feel oh so special. He doesn’t hesitate to book hair and lash appointments, he wouldn’t dare forget her nails either (especially not her toes, he’s definitely making sure he has something pretty to suck on).

He knows his restraint is gonna be tested when she greets him at the front door after work, the house smelling like a good home cooked meal, and a pretty apron still tied around her waist. It takes everything in him to not bend her over the countertop and take her when she starts making his plate, all he can do is slowly untie her apron and place it to the side, thanking all the higher powers for his patience.

He can’t stop himself when he comes home late one night, exhausted from hard labor and finding her laid out so nicely on their bed, one of his shirts covering her slightly, just enough for her pretty panties to peak out from underneath. He just plops himself down on her legs and feigns giving her a massage, ignoring her protests that she should be giving him the massage. He lies through his teeth about knowing all the chores she did, and being so proud and thankful and oop…

Well of course he’s gonna be hard when she’s making all those pretty noises as he gets that nasty knot out of her lower back, and he’s also so pent up because he’s been so stressed lately from work and today was extra hard because of this, that, and the third. It doesn’t take long for him to start humping her like a fucking animal, grunting and growling as his stiff cock soaks his work pants with precum. God, her ass is so soft and he could only let the mental image of the recoil fuel his desire further; now hooking an arm under her plump waist and pulling her into him harder than necessary but how else would he give her a sneak peak of what he’s gonna give her later. He knew his cum was leaking through and soaking her panties and he couldn’t give less of a fuck, the only thing crossing his mind was the thought of the little wet spot she’d have herself.

Well, he’d definitely think about making it worse as he ate her out through her panties, listening to his pretty little pup’s whines as she begged him to take them off, to play with his puppy the right way. He couldn’t tell her no, god he’d be so good at following orders, ripping off her underwear so quick and going to town on her pretty cunt. He would make the most obscene noises, all the slurping and sucking, his heavy pants as his tounge greedily lapped at her pussy (you’d think he was the pup with the whines he’d let out when she shoved his head closer).

He’d make her cum three, four times with his tounge, all while pathetically humping the bed. He’d bury himself in her cunt, finally letting her close her thick thighs around his head and suffocate him while he came hard. He isn’t finished of course, now he needs to bury his fat cock in her, make sure he doesn’t waste his next load becuase he needs to breed his pretty wife. So what, if this was a 4 month mission, she signed the papers, fake names or not, she was his pretty little housewife. He wouldn’t stop if she was tired, hell he was fucking exhausted already but none of that mattered, she needed to be satisfied, filled to the brim with cum because he can’t believe he made his wife wait this long for a good ol’ fashioned fucking. He should have fucked her stupid the day he brought her home, all wrapped up in that pretty wedding dress that hugged every single last one of her curves in a way that made him fist his cock that night in the shower.

He’d repay his debts, make sure her cunt was filled as she fell asleep next to him. Then he’d kiss her puffy pussy in the morning, whispering meaningless apologies because he was NOT sorry; he’d make her breakfast in bed and make sure to bring a painkiller on the way back to their room, he could only imagine how sore her thighs were too.

[alwaysanundertone]

Day 18: spanking | Remus Lupin

smut

TW: spanking, slight daddy kink, subspace mentioned

You were feeling really fucking needy: your ovulation week had just started, and now everything Remus did got you all worked up. He was fixing the collar of his t-shirt? You got wet. He was playing with his pen? Why wasn’t he playing with you instead?

Needless to say, that, now that you were in his arms, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt, you were feeling extremely horny. You rubbed your thighs for the tenth time that night, and he decided to speak up. “Darling, is everything alright?”

You feigned ignorance. “What do you mean? Of course, I’m fine” Your gaze was trained on his lower abs, you admired how his muscles flexed with his every words, sighing. You would have literally started gnawing at his muscles if it wasn’t for the little self-restraint you still had in you.

“Okay, so if I were to touch you now, you wouldn’t be wet, would you?” You widened your eyes, the dynamic suddenly shifting. “Answer me, are you wet?”

You sighed. “Yes, daddy”

He groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly, in seconds you were on your knees, your head immersed in your pillow. “It’s not my fault, daddy, it’s that week of the month”

He chuckled.  “I’m sure it’s not your fault, baby. I want to try something new, would you like that?” He was bent over your back, his mouth nipping at your earlobe.

You released a breathy moan. “Yes” Now you were aroused, the heat in your core making you feel uncomfortable.

“Okay, baby. I’m going to make you come in an… unconditional way, okay? Do you trust me?”

You nodded. “Yes, daddy, I do” He kissed your spine, making you jolt when his hand connected with your ass, you cried out. “Hush, baby, it’s alright, daddy’s here for you”

He massaged the sore spot, lowering your pyjamas shorts so that your bottom was now exposed. “Such a cute ass you’ve got, you’re so beautiful, you know  that?” You whimpered, trying to rub your thighs, only for him to deliver a harsh slap. “No touching, baby. You will come from my spanks only, got it?”

His harsh tone, the way his hands were massaging the supple skin of your butt, his words, everything he was doing got you extremely wet, the fact that you’d get no friction where you needed it the most getting you even more aroused.

“Good, baby, stay still like this. This is my ass, right? I can do whatever I want with it, tell me, who owns this?” He gripped the globes of your booty harshly, making you gasp.

“You do, daddy, it’s only yours.”

“That’s right, baby, you deserve a reward”  You arched your back, thinking that he changed his mind, instead receiving a rapid sequence of slaps on each cheek, making you whine, your wetness slowly dripping on the sheets under you.

“Look at you, so fucking wet for me, baby.” He bit down on the sensitive skin, a sharp pain radiating over your lower body. “So good, you always listen to me, don’t you? If I say that I want you to come now, would you do it?”

You widened your eyes. “But daddy, I can’t control it like that”

“Oh, are you saying you won’t try to make daddy proud?”

You whined, feeling yourself getting more and more under the fuzzy blanket that subspace was. “No, daddy, please, I want to make you happy”

He tsked, spanking you just under your ass, the sting going straight to your clit. “Then you’ll come only from my spanks, and you’ll thank daddy”

When he started spanking you again, you felt your muscles tighten up, making you gasp as you felt on the verge of coming. “Don’t stop, daddy, oh my God”

“So proud of my baby, being so good for her daddy, I love you” You came like that, with Remus hand swatting your butt, crying out. He talked you through it, telling you how good  you were for him, how he loved you.

“Daddy” He smiled down at you, you were still in subspace. He caressed the reddened skin softly, mesmerized by the way it dipped under his touch. He made to move, you whined, gripping his wrist. “Daddy, don’t leave, I was good, right? Are you mad? I tried to make you proud-“

“Hush, baby, you were the best as always, I love you so much, you’re always so trusting, so pliant.” He kissed your forehead. “Going to clean you up, rub up some lotion and then we can cuddle. I can scratch your back” You smiled at him brightly, content with his words as you settled down on the bed.

tags: @sxmnc @peterparkerspersonalplaything @riaaavm @iamawkwardandshy @eeviee4 @mysterialee @famouscrusadeluminary @el1smells @rishofkf @mooonyxoxo @happymaeday @yourfiendlyneighbourspiderman @whyshouldihaveanam3 @amazing-bobinsky @barnesandmetal @just-here-for-ff @remussbitch @sammyreid

[theonewiththefanfics]

The Layers of Thomas Shelby - Frozen Fear (one-shot)

Synopsis: Fear was an emotion Tommy elicited in others. He never thought he'd feel it himself. Not like that. Never like that... 

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, slight fluff

Warnings: graphic descriptions of blood, injuries, kidnapping, swearing, death not sticking to canon whatsoever :)

Word count: 3028

Fear was something Thomas Shelby was intimately acquainted with. He elicited it and made others tremble to their very core with just a glance or a whisper of his name from someone else’s lips. Fear was as much a shadow in his life, as his daughter who followed him around wherever she could.

But fear was also what he felt in that exact moment as he stared at the bloodied napkin on his table, the silver locket he’d gifted Y/N when their child had turned one inside it, a simple note of “For Angel” attached to it.

Sadie was tight asleep on his chest when he’d received the damned box. Y/N had taken her to Ada’s so she could have the day to herself, get her body pampered, do up her hair and maybe spend a bit of money on some new shoes or a winter coat as a birthday present from him. If she’d asked, Tommy would’ve bought her the Eifel tower, and she’d bloody well deserve it. Valentine's was coming up, after all.

He was so proud of her. Despite the certain things that’d happened, he wouldn’t want anyone else to share a life with. She’d picked up the broken pieces Grace had left his heart in and mended it with gold. But gold didn’t matter at that moment when he didn’t know where she was. Where her body was.

When Frances had brought in the box that’d been left by the doorstep, Sadie had been softly snoring on his shoulder for the better part of an hour while he ran tired blue eyes over the logs of the previous week.

He thanked her, his voice a whisper to not stir his toddler, before cautiously examining the square. When he opened it, Tommy swore his heart stopped beating. Or he wished it did. Because it wasn’t like that time when Grace’s boyfriend had taken Y/N, or like that time she’d gotten mugged behind a shop. No. This time, he knew she was dead, and he wished he was too.

It took all of his self-control to ring up his brothers and tell them to get to Arrow House right that second. It took all of his restraint not to shout or scream, the only thing tethering him to earth and sanity his pride and joy asleep in his arms.

When Arthur and John got to his home office, Tommy simply threw them the note, his eyes trained on the small oval locket, thumb tracing the inscription upon it, smearing blood more and more over his own hands.

“Find her.” Those were the only words he uttered.

For a brief second, he’d glanced up and saw terror rush through the eyes of his brothers; he knew how much the two loved his wife, they loved her like they loved Ada and Polly, so without a second to spare, they ran back out, no doubt to gather every Blinder and search every nook and cranny while he clutched the brown-haired girl to his chest, the silver locket clutched in his other palm.

He wasn’t a religious man, didn’t even necessarily believe what his gipsy ancestors did or even his aunt Pol, but at that moment he turned his head to the ceiling and prayed to whoever might listen, old gods and new, Norse and Greek and Slavic – anyone that would hear his pleas.

Tommy thought back to every time Y/N had smiled at him, had laughed and filled his world with light. He even thought back to all those insane moments where he felt like his jaw would snap with how hard he’d been clenching it because of some stupid thing she’d done. He wished he’d appreciated those moments more because when two hours later Arthur came back to the house, the coat his wife had been wearing that morning in his hands, soaked and dripping freezing water onto the Turkish carpet, Tommy knew she was gone.

***

Her whole world consisted of cold, nothing else. It was the only thing she could feel, taste and sense. Was there anything to sense? Y/N didn’t know. She didn’t even fully believe her legs were still attached to her body, but somehow she was making her way across the field.

Time had become a concept she couldn’t comprehend, and the only thing that showed it had passed was the ever-changing position of the moon - her only companion through the long journey.

She had stopped shaking a while back, which it didn’t take her being a genius to know meant trouble if she didn’t find a way to get warm, but even that didn’t matter. Nothing but getting home did. If she had to die, she wanted to do it there, not somewhere in a ditch let alone beneath the frozen surface of the lake where Luka Changretta had dumped her.

He thought she’d been dead. He’d slit her throat, but not before ripping off the beautiful little necklace Tommy had gifted her.

“So he has something to remember you by,” the Italian mobster had given her a mocking smile before taking a knife from his side and slicing it across her neck.

The pain had been blinding, knocking all sense of reality out of her mind. She knew it would be the end. When her body lifted above the chair she’d been tied to, when her back greeted plush leather seats, her blood staining them forever. She knew she would die sooner or later. Then sweet blackness greeted her.

But death was a lot more painful than what it’d been described to be like in all the books she'd read and edited, especially the wound in her throat. Her breaths were white-hot knives dragging down her oesophagus and her lungs were on fire with each shallow take of air.

Through a haze, Y/N heard Italian being spoken before two rough hands grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her out of the car.

Her body hit the frozen ground with a thud, and it took every bit of remaining brainpower not to whimper from the pain. The winter air stung every piece of her body inside and out, caressing her with icy nails.

Slowly her mind was coming to, the cold sobering her up, but when someone took her wrists and another took her by the ankles, setting her flying, it was the frozen surface of the lake she cracked through that awoke her completely.

Y/E/C eyes flew open, murky depths of the water greeting her while every nerve and cell in her got shocked. Instinct told her to swim up, get a breath, and get out of the water before it pulled her under, but with the mightiness of a Norse goddess, Y/N suppressed all that and allowed the lake to gently pull her down, and her mind finally started to understand what’d happened.

They thought she was dead and decided to throw her body in some lake, probably hoping it would freeze over before she floated to the top and would remain that way until the very spring, prolonging the pain for her family.

The thought of her family grieving her was the only thing keeping Y/N from not trashing below the still surface. Instead, she slowly slipped her arms out from the coat and let it move to the top, while she sunk lower and lower.

Soon enough her feet touched the slimy earth below, which is when she once more opened her eyes and glanced up. There wasn’t really anything to see, apart from the light of the moon streaming in through the broken place where her body had been thrown and two retreating headlights.

Y/N waited two more seconds her whole being in shock and begging to get out and away from the cold when she pushed upwards and broke the surface. She gulped the air down in greedy takes, not caring about her split neck or the trembling of her body - at that moment all she cared for was air.

Her teeth were chattering so hard she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, afraid it might get caught between them and she’d bite it off. Swishing her head around, she looked if the ice had broken anywhere else. Out. She needed to get out. And to whatever god had taken pity on her after everything, underneath a small makeshift pier where kids would come and fish, the ice had cracked right to the very edge.

She knew every second spent in the water was a second closer to hypothermia, so as quick as her frozen limbs would allow, she swam to the land. It was a hand’s stretch away when another pair of headlights came into view. Y/N cursed and instead of getting out of the lake, she ducked underneath the wooden planks, pressing a palm to her mouth, so whoever it was wouldn’t notice the air steaming up in the air from her mouth.

Her ears were ringing, so Y/N couldn’t hear whatever the men were talking about, only see how they fished out her coat and took it with them. They left another minute later, and she swore at whoever it was for costing it to her. Home. She needed to get home and fast, but she couldn’t be seen, couldn’t let Changretta know he’d half-assed her murder and she’d survived. He wouldn’t do so again, so Y/N waited another bone-chilling minute, checking if any car passed by again.

And then she got out, her dress clinging to her body, hair against her face, matted with seaweeds and blood, one heel of her boot snapped off – a wraith come to life and ready to haunt.

The first step was agonising, and Y/N collapsed underneath her weight, needles piercing her feet. Her knees bruised and scraped raw against the stony earth as did her hands, but she welcomed the pain, let it ground her, and used it to remind herself – pain meant she was alive. No pain would be the real problem.

Y/N wrapped her hands around her body, digging her nails into her biceps, each step an arduous labour. Small pebbles cut the soles of her feet; she’d lost her shoes somewhere along the way; her bones ached from the very inside and each breath was a task, the wound in her neck, although scabbed over, split with every small movement, small streams of blood trickling down and staining her white dress.

Lights were visible in the distance, even as her vision blurred more and more, the small bright dots becoming stretched-out beams before everything tilted and she was staring up at the sky.

The stars were magnificent, she thought. You couldn’t really see them shine like that in the city. Even with Arrow House being further away from the centre, the beauty of it didn’t compare to that of the open field.

Her mind went back to Tommy, to how they met, how they used to bicker about every single thing and to that first morning she’d woken up beside him and instead of finding his pillow cold, a strong arm had been wrapped around the middle, his nose hidden in her hair.

Neither mentioned it a few hours later at breakfast, but it’d been the day things slowly had started to shift. Then she’d gotten shot, and the switch had completely been flipped. All those glances they’d shared, the soft smiles and tiny touches were no longer hidden, but out on full display. His hand now always gravitated to touch any part of her, they fell asleep facing one another, most times Y/N using Tommy��s chest as a pillow. And then someone else came along and used his chest as a pillow, his heartbeat as a lullaby and his eyes as the ocean to pull them in and never let go.

She’d been scared to become a mom, but even with that, she’d never seen Tommy so absolutely terrified. When Y/N had gone into labour, she thought he would pass out, but he swallowed the fear and stayed with her. Despite Ada being adamantly against a man being present during “women’s business”, she’d threatened to break her neck if she so much as looked at Tommy, Polly snorting beside her.

“He put me in this position, and by God, he will be here,” Y/N had sneered at her sister-in-law before a contraption rippled through her body and she almost crushed her husband’s hand.

But then the pain went away and a small wriggling person was placed on her chest. She’d never seen Tommy fully break down before that.

“Huh,” Ada had shrugged. “So he does have a heart.”

She’d promptly received a smack from Polly and Y/N for that comment, but Tommy had chuckled.

“No, I don’t.” He’d leaned in and pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple. “These two stole it a long time ago.”

After that day, it wasn’t uncommon to find Tommy either in his office or even in their bed with Sadie sound asleep on his chest. She just about melted each time.

But now all that stared back at her was the cloudless winter sky. Y/N wanted to sob at the thought she’d never see Tommy’s blue eyes anymore or fix the way Sadie’s curls framed her face, but every little movement was agonising, so she just laid there, staring at the cosmos and waiting for that black void to get her.

***

When Y/N came to she was confused as to why there was so much yelling when being dead, why her head was pounding and her body was racked by violent shivers.

“You undressed my fucking wife!” A deep voice boomed from somewhere very far away it seemed while at the same time, the noise echoed in her skull, rattling her brain.

“Oh, would you have liked me to have left her in that frozen fucking dress?” A deep, gruff one replied. “She was already hypothermic, but by all means, you’d rather no one saw her in her knickers than be alive.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Solomons!”

That name being said snapped her eyes open, which was a big fucking mistake, as even the warm light from a candle by the bed and from the fireplace was enough to make Y/N feel like she was looking directly at the sun and burning her retinas.

Another horrible shiver went through her frame, her teeth chattering nonstop. Pins and needles were running all over her skin and Y/N curled up in a ball as if trying to not let any of the heat she’d managed to get back escape, but that only made her feel more pain, a groan escaping her mouth. That small noise was enough though for the door to be busted open and for two men – one lean and tall, the other a burly, beard-covered menace to rush inside.

Tommy was by her in an instant, a careful palm placed on her cheek.

“Don’t try to talk,” his own voice was that of a whisper. “The wound’s pretty rough.”

If it didn’t feel like it’d hurt like hell, Y/N would’ve just rolled her eyes, but all she could do was squeeze them shut as shivers went through her body. When Tommy saw that, he was instantly on his feet, going for the fireplace and adding more logs to the dwindling flames.

When he turned around, Y/N had slid her shaking hand from underneath the duvet and extended it to him, a silent plea for him to come back.

It didn’t take much more than that for Tommy to take off his jacket and suit, not caring about the company in the room, his trousers following until he was in his breeches, sliding into the bed, wrapping her frozen body with his own warmth.

A groan escaped her mouth, as she clung to him, Tommy releasing a string of expletives when sensing just how cold Y/N actually was.

“Bloody hell, woman,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her forehead and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.

Gently, he intertwined her legs with his, and his fingers went to card through her matted strands, the motion more so calming him down, than her.

He’d put their daughter in bed after calling for Polly to come, with the thought Y/N was dead, his whole being a numb void. He’d thought the only time he’d ever get to see her again was after her body was found, that was if it’d be in a recognisable condition, so he’d take her frozen feet against his calves, her cold lips against his chest and stiff fingers digging painfully in his sides, as long as it meant she was alive.

At some point, after Alfie and Tommy exchanged words, Solomons left, and they spent the whole night and early morning like that, tangled in one another until Y/N was no longer cold or more appropriately would snap her tongue off if she so much as opened her mouth. She still couldn’t speak despite how Alfie had cleaned and stitched the wound in her neck, but she could write.

Alfie had brought a pen and paper upon Tommy’s request so they could communicate and the first and only word she scribbled was “home”.

“We’ll go home soon,” Tommy promised. “Arthur’s just… taking care of a few things.”

To that Y/N just nodded; she didn’t need any more explanations.

She took the pencil again and flipped to a new page. “Alfie has shitty sheets.”

Tommy chuckled, tightening the grip he had around Y/N’s waist. “He does, doesn’t he? You’d think the fucker could afford silk by now. Did he even change them before he put you in the bed?”

She just smiled and nuzzled closer to Tommy pressing her no longer cold nose to his chest and breathing in his scent, as he cradled her nape.

Y/N could hear the rapid thuds of his heart. When he'd first joined her in the bed, it'd been racing like one of his horses, stuttering and trying to find a beat, but now it was a steady song, matching her own.

No longer were they afraid.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take): 

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @m-a-t-91​ @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​ @strangersstranger​

Thomas Shelby tags: @datewithgianni​ @captivatedbycillianmurphy​ @screemqueen​ @mrsmalfoyshelby​ @theamuz​ @lyarr24​

A/N: sooo, it's been a while, hasn't it? Just wanted to drop something for the upcoming Valentines :)

P.S. hope you liked this :)

P.S.S. please don’t plagiarise my work and repost it/ translate it on other platforms (wattpad etc). re-blogs are very welcome

[wannaeatramyeon]

Being Goo Kim's Secret Friend: an introduction

G/N. Trying maybe a new lil storyline. General shenanigans with reader as a secret friend. Masterlists

Goo Kim's circle of secret friends is a very exclusive and private club you are proud to be part of.

Would have figuratively and literally worn the declaration like a badge of honour if it wasn't supposed to be, well - secret.

How he had come to hear about you is still a head scratcher, although you suppose you have built up quite a reputation if you asked the right people.

You know a lot about a lot. Have your finger in all the pies. Developed a knack for keeping your ears low to the ground and anything you don't know, you dare say isn't worth knowing.

Sticking your nose into places it didn't belong though, it should have gotten you into a lot of trouble-

But god has his favourites. Despite your lack of physical prowess, you rolled the dice and somehow accrued enough luck and passable charm for things to work out for you in most situations.

Most.

Your leg has pretty much healed completely after the incident a few years back. It just tends to click a lot whenever you bend your knee. It's fine, you can live with it, after all you should have seen the other guy.

Spoiler alert: he's dead.

.

.

"You owe me, babe." The blonde grins, wiping off his sword with-

"Hey, that's my jacket!" Despite being unsteady on your feet and your right leg throbbing painfully, you hobble over to yank it out of his hands.

"Sorry," he doesn't look sorry at all. He crouches down, opting to use the recently deceased guy's shirt instead. It's terribly disrespectful of the dead.

"He's really dead, huh." You give the body a harsh nudge with your foot. There's nothing, not even a choked gurgle. Just an ever growing puddle of blood and two lifeless orbs peering up at the open sky.

"'Fraid so," he answers, sliding his glasses back up his nose.

"Good." Then you add, "What's your name again?"

.

.

And it's not so much that you're indebted to Goo Kim.

You like to think that you're practically innocent in this. He's the one that pulled the trigger, the actual sword, the very first time you met him and off-ed the guy who was a pain in your ass. It's not like you could control what that blonde maniac chooses to do. 

(Not that you think this defence would hold up in a court of law.)

(...And yes you're thankful, but you have a feeling he was just trying to make a dramatic entrance more than anything.)

So no, you're not indebted to him. It's a mutually beneficial relationship. 

You help Goo with his little queries and his morally grey (if you're being generous) errands; in return there's a steady stream of income and the more efficient and discreet you are, the heftier the tip too.

.

.

Sure, yes, Goo can be a very difficult customer.

His personality takes a bit of getting used to, and you admire your own restraint at not beating him black and blue.

Honestly, that time you met Gun Park, you knew deep in your soul that you had met a kindred spirit. Your eyes connected as Goo was rambling and being his usual deranged self, and you are absolutely certain that the annoyance and murderous intent in his black eyes was also what was reflected in yours.

Anyway- That's a story for another day.

Back to Goo.

He is clingy at the worst of times and flakey when you actually need him. Throws a tantrum if you don't pick up his calls before the third ring though it's fine when he ignores you for days.

Delights in giving cryptic instructions and orders that are less quirky and more deranged riddles, although it is kind of, sort of, a little endearing how much his eyes light up when you finally work out what he's saying.

His sense of personal space and boundary is also unsurprisingly absent. He has a penchant for nicknames that make you cringe and a fondness for slinging his arm around you and cackling in your ear like you're best friends.

Which you know is a lie.

You weren't born yesterday. He’s friends with you precisely because you are not a fool. You know Goo would sell you up the river without a second thought.

But in the end, none of that matters.

You really really can't oversell how good it is to have friends in high places.

Best of all, a friend who seemingly has no issues killing on your behalf and who leaves their own fingerprints all over the scene of the crime.

[hellishjoel]

god is a woman, but so is the devil

1.2k / pairing: sub brat tamer!joel miller x f!reader

psycho masterlist | main masterlist

summary: joel lets you have control of him for the night - you milk him for all that he's worth.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, porn without plot, brat tamer!joel, sub!joel, dom!reader, somewhat established relationship (whatever that relationship may be ((situationship, relationship, etc.)), toxic!couple, swearing, dirty talk, pet names, restraints, daddy kink, f!masturbation, oral (m & f receiving), degradation, a little praise kink, choking on dick, marking kink, 69, m!overstimulation A/N: this was a nice little challenge to help me make my smut more concise! shoutout to @undercoverpena for brainstorming this awesome idea with me! and thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for aiding me in attempting to shorten my smut lol. dividers by the astounding @saradika-graphics

“There he goes,” you coo with a belittling tone, “look at all this fucking cum.” 

Your eyes fixate on the cream-colored mess all over your hand and Joel’s cock, watching out of your peripheral the way Joel’s chest rises and falls at a quickened rate. His skin is rosy with warmth, and body slick with his own sweat. 

You’ve been milking him, orgasm after orgasm, with very little break in between. He was putty between your hands, while his own hands were tied up with his own belt at the bed frame. 

“Okay,” he pants, head of dark curls matted with sweat digging into the pillows, “S’enough. M’done.” 

You playfully snicker and shake your head, hand still stroking up and down his sticky cock as he goes limp in your palm. 

“I think you forget who’s in charge here. Certainly not the one with his hands tied up in a belt.” 

Joel grunts and bares his teeth, face pinched in a mess of agony and euphoria. He’s not sure how many times he’s been pushed to the finish, spilling unexpectedly all over himself in orgasms that convulse his entire body. The more he comes, the more he disintegrates. 

Your devilish little giggle breaks him out of his daydream, his cock sensitive to your touch. He grunts and tugs against his restraints, the restraints he had foolishly agreed to. Handing over power to you was his first mistake, you were too self-absorbed to handle it. 

Now, he’s laid back in the middle of the bed, a sweating, naked mess, while his girl literally sucks the life out of him. 

He can’t help but whimper as you kitten lick around his reddened tip. Joel is forced to clench his eyes closed and grit his jaw as he tries to breathe through the overstimulation. 

“Right, you had your fun, devil woman,” his southern accent is deep and filthy, written over with lust and making his words run raspy. “Now lemme go.” 

He watches as you fake ponder, pursing your lips and looking up in thought. He takes in a sharp breath when you slowly begin to shake your head. 

Joel watches in agony as you lean down and nip at the inside of his thighs, the muscles underneath your lips twitching with excitement. Your mouth moves up to the planes of his abdomen, watching with heavy eyes as you lick a slow stripe up his torso and taste his sweat. 

“But I like telling you what to do.” You muse playfully, innocence lining your voice.

His eyes flutter, heart rate picking up as you dig your nails into the thick muscle of his thighs and drag downwards, Joel grunting the entire time to breathe through the pain. 

The pistons in his brain were flying a million miles a minute. He couldn’t think, could barely speak, he had come more times today than he had all month, and it was driving him mad how you were using him like a little plaything. That was his job. 

He finally decides to play nice, to give into the shifted power dynamic. He can’t take much more of this. His eyes soften and his jaw goes slack, a weak whimper passing through his lips as you suckle a hickey right next to his spent balls. 

“Please, baby,” he gulps, slowly shaking his head and trying to look down at you. “Ain’t got nothin’ left.”

Now that sets you alight.

“What’s that you always say to me, Joel? You can give me one more, baby.” Your voice is seductive and sweet like honey, a Venus fly trap waiting to snap up any man in your wake. 

He shakily breathes out a groveling whimper, knowing he can’t give you one more, he simply can’t. And that’s what he told you, several more times. But you weren’t satisfied with that weak excuse. 

“Maybe you just need a little... motivation.” You coo, stripping yourself of your bra and panties as his eyes can’t help but lust over your pretty body he knows all too well. 

Joel chews at his raw lower lip, bruised by his own teeth as you slowly spread your legs for him. He stares at your glorious cunt, sopping wet and calling his name. It’s tragic, the quiet sob that breaks from his throat as he gawks longingly. If you’d just let him have a taste… 

He said he couldn’t, and he can’t. He was spent. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat as your hand slowly sinks down to your pretty pussy, fingers running up and down your slick as you let out a little gasp of pleasure. 

Joel wriggles in his restraints again, desperate to touch and please you. He can only watch as your head lulls from side to side as you circle your clit and bury two fingers into your entrance until you’re knuckle deep, causing you to cry out his name.

“You want this pretty pussy, Daddy? Don’t make me ride you, you wouldn’t last a minute,” he’d never imagined you daring to ride him would be such a threat, but it was. You were right, he wouldn’t last, and he’d finish embarrassingly early. Like a damn teenager. 

Then, the worst happens. He whimpers as his cock begins to swell all over again, fattening up as he goes semi-hard against his stomach. 

You spot it almost immediately, a cocky grin on your lips as you crawl up the bed towards him. He whimpers and whines, clenching his eyes closed. 

The man was afraid to let go. You decided to stop torturing him, wanting to reward him for being such a good submissive tonight. 

“Wanna come on your face like you’ve been doing to me all night,” you hum as you work your way up the bed and straddle your cunt over his face, feeling the glide of his aquiline nose against your core and his hot breath fanning across your center. It gave you the chills. 

You lay your head by his thigh and start pumping your hand around his massive dick, hearing him messily moan against your pussy as he eats you up like a starving man. Your sweet juices land on his tongue and lips, burying his tongue inside your walls before moving back to suckle against your throbbing clit.

You force your cries to be silent as you wrap your lips around him. The sensation of your hot mouth instantly makes him curse against you, whimpering loudly as he forces his face more into your pussy to hide his pathetic whines. 

He’s so needy, he’s so close, and you taking him all the way down your throat, gagging around his thick cock wasn’t going to make him last much longer. 

You hollow your cheeks and flatten your tongue, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat more times than you can count. He’s pulsing inside of your mouth. One, two, maybe three more bobs of your head, and he’s bucking his hips into your sloppy mouth, spit slathering down his dick and puddling at his balls. 

His tongue flicks devilishly fast against your clit, causing you to moan around his shaft as he spills hot load after hot load down your throat. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you greedily take it all, your own finish landing on Joel’s tongue not even seconds later. 

Your jaw is aching, throat swollen once you finally pull your mouth from him.

“Such a good fucking man finishing for me, good job, Daddy,” you gulp after swallowing his musky come. 

The room smells of sex and is filled with both of your exhausted pants. Joel’s wrists are rubbed raw from the leather, and he comes so hard that he sees stars behind his eyes while his girl’s juices lay tainted on his tastebuds. 

He’s not so sure if you’re a God or the Devil, but he’s sure he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

psycho masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog

[chuuyasheaven]

♤ Touch me like I'm yours, baby. ♤

Tags: Chuuya N. / afab! Reader, passionate sex, pet names (sweetheart, doll, baby, "baby" for Chuuya), praising, fingering, slight teasing, overstimulation?, slight degrading (being called "slutty/slut"), ooc! Chuuya?, handsy! Chuuya?, smudged makeup, car sex, pw/op, might contain grammar errors, rushed?, etc.

Notes: I RECENTLY STARTED JJK !! (currently on s1 ep2 ) ^_^

You got all pretty for him, just putting on some lipstick to seem cuter. Why? Because you both went out that night, just the both of you, driving around during night. All plans made by Chuuya, what really wasn't planed was you on his lap smudging some of your lipstick and staining his lips slightly. So yes, the both of you were making out in his car, which the neither of you complained about actually.

With your eyes closed, you felt his hands roaming around your waist, kinda pulling you closer. Your back slightly arched, just a little, you opened your eyes to see that Chuuya's lips now had a slight red tint now. The sight made you giggle to yourself quietly as you lowered your kisses down to his neck. "What's so funny, baby?", Chuuya asked pointing out your slient giggles. "Nothing, but red lipstick would suit you.", he just exposed his neck slightly further for better access while scoffing to himself. "Thanks, I guess,", he said before his breathing slowly got heavier, mainly because he was quite sensitive on some parts of his neck.

Now that his neck was covered in faint lipstick you lifted your head again. "What now?", you asked curiously, Chuuya let his hand wander to your thigh. His other free hand made it's way to the car's radio to let music play, which was connected to his playlist. Music started to play, Streets by Doja Cat to be exact, his fingers sneaked themselves to your inner thighs. He smirked at you, Chuuya's smirk and fingers got you feeling something only he could make you feel. "How about I make you feel good, doll?", without giving you time to answer, his fingers were suddenly resting on your lips, you knew what he wanted you to do.

Your lips parted a little, he shoved his finger in a little, until your teeth bit down gentle but firm enough for him to pull his glove off. "Good girl.", Chuuya's ungloved hand made it's way back down to your inner thighs, now his fingers pushed your panties to the side and entered your cunt. You whimpered quietly to yourself, his fingers never disappointed you. Since there was music playing in the background, he just made use of that by hitting your best spots by each beat. Oh God, this was the most dangerous combo known to mankind, two minutes into the song and he already had you see stars. By this time your chest was against his while Chuuya took his time making you feel good. "Ngh— Chuuya. .", he looked you into your eyes. "Feels good, sweetheart?", you nodded, your cheeks flushed.

Another five minutes after a different song started playing, you came around his fingers. Chuuya pulled them out and licked them clean, making you wet again. "I. . I want more, baby, p–please.", you asked rather pathetically, but you're his princess, why should he deny you? "More? Does my slutty little girl want more?", he teasingly asked. "You want me to fuck you, doll?", he repeatedly asked while unbuckling his belt, looking you in the eye while doing so. "Why don't you fuck yourself on it, hm? Make us both feel good, just like the good girl you are,", Chuuya held his dick in his hand, while he made you his suggestion he was obviously rubbing himself. ". . F–fine.", you agreed, as if you didn't do this multiple times before!

You gently grabbed his dick, Chuuya pushed your panties to the side again to make it easier for you. When you slowly sunk down on him, it took a lot of self-restraint to not moan out loud. He waited for you to adjust, that's when Chuuya noticed the song currently playing, Naughty Girl by Beyoncé. Without really noticing, he felt you moving, finally. Yes, he did let a surprise moan slip but that was it! You didn't pay attention to it anyway, all what mattered to you was to make you both feel good. Moans and whimpers left your mouth, skin clapping filling the car and the windows now slowly starting to fog up. Could it not get any better? "Keep being such a good slut for me, baby, fuck. .", Chuuya cursed to himself, his head now thrown back. "S–sensitive. . ah!", you moaned, of course you were, with the way he handled you earlier?! But anyway, to at least be a little helpful, Chuuya grabbed your hips to guide you riding.

It was getting close, both of your orgasms now nearing. "So pretty,", Chuuya said, another song which was playing in the background was recognized by him again, Do I wanna know? by Artic Monkeys, making everything better. God, he really should let music play more often. "You sound even better than the song, sweetheart. Keep making this noise for me,", the pleasure got more intense by each bounce, the sweet release not far away. Chuuya let one low grunt out, he was twitching lightly inside you which made you feel even better. Then there it was, before you knew it, your back arched and you gushed around him meanwhile he busted his load inside you.

"Oh shit, let's hope the seats don't get stained. ."

Yeah I finished this at 1am bro..

@heluvaku (don't mind this I js wanted to get a second opinion lol)