#workshop shots

[puppitproductions]

Working on a red wolf head with a hinged jaw, suitable for Yo-SD sized ball jointed dolls.

Edit: ID in alt text

[joelsdagger]

intermission || joel miller x f!reader

shout out to @dinandwhiskey for feeding into my delusions for this one and to @skrunkly-scrimblo for the beta <33

pairing: daddy dom!joel miller x f!reader summary: movie night with joel doesn’t go to plan, or joel fucks your mouth while you’re sleeping. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ rating: 18+ MDNI warnings: [No Outbreak], established relationship, age gap [reader is 24, joel is late 50’s] , dd/lg dynamics, daddy kink, somnophilia [no explicit consent in this fic but she’s cool with it, therefore dubcon], oral [m receiving], face fucking, deepthroating, finger sucking, praise kink, pet names [little bug, little angel, baby, the works lol], references to tummy bulge, references to unprotected p in v sex, mentions of creampies, cum eating, reader can be carried [tho in my mind joel is huuuuuge so size kink as well], Joel’s POV. word count: 2.3k a/n: happy father’s day (iykyk) :3

series masterlist | masterlist | ao3 | playlist

dividers by @saradika-graphics

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. 

I don’t fall asleep during movies, daddy, you had sassed him. 

Whatever you say, little bug. 

That was an hour ago and now you’re resting your pretty little head against his belly, your hand tucked beneath your head. You look so peaceful. So pretty. So soft. So – pliant. 

He really shouldn’t. 

But then your hand slips from under your head and falls to rest a hair's breadth away from his clothed cock, it jumps in his sweats. You’ve practically pavloved him to react like that with just a mere graze of your fingertips. 

“You got no idea what you do to me, sweet girl, drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy over here,” his voice a low rasp, reaching for your fingers and gently pulling them from his lap, squeezing your fingertips twice before resting them atop his thigh. 

You’re completely limp, deep in your sleep and Joel is unable to control himself.

He snatches up the remote, hastily turns down the TV, shoves his gray sweats down to the middle of his thighs and frees his semi-hard cock. He wraps a hand around the base, gives it a firm tug, and rests the tip of his length on your lips.

He stills and swallows hard. He shouldn’t do this. He can’t do this, it feels selfish to take what he’s been desperately wanting from you — for the better part of an hour — when you’re unable to respond. He should wake you. 

But then, almost as if you’ve made the decision for him; your lips part and a soft moan releases from you, mmm, daddy. His cock twitches against your lips, opaque droplets already gathering at the slit. Your lips stay parted and the glistening tip slips between your plush lips. 

“Fuck– ” He groans at the sensation, eyes rolling back into his head, hand flying up to the back of yours, cradling your skull in an attempt to anchor himself as he slowly rolls his hips up into you. He stiffens fully at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth around him. It feels fucking incredible. 

How the hell did he get here? A rare lazy sunday night with you on his lap, taking a man almost three times your age in between your lips, letting him use you in your sleep. 

He remembers first laying eyes on you. You showed up on his porch one night, not too long ago, with sparkling eyes and a shy smile on your face. He didn’t even hear what you had said to him, too distracted by the soft skin of your exposed thighs just below the hem of your pale pink dress — barely covering the plump shape of your ass — and the flow of your hair as a wave of muggy summer heat swept past. He thinks it was something about the leftover cake from your birthday. He only guessed that from the sad, fat square slice of funfetti birthday cake held up in a flimsy paper plate before him, the letters jaggedly cut down the middle of the celebratory phrase.

Joel is a strong man; at least that’s what he tells himself. He knew you were too young for him. The split letters that barely spelled out twenty-four on your birthday cake told him as much. Trouble, he’d muttered. He still mumbles that occasionally when you push his buttons, though hours later, he often finds himself burying his length deep inside of you, tears pricking your eyes while he stretches your needy cunt.

But then you glanced up at him with wide, curious eyes and flashed him a big, toothy smile — the prettiest little thing he’s seen in all his long, hard years — and he cracked; his cement walls came crumbling down. He brought you inside his home, into his too-small bed, and fucked you until you cried, until you asked him for a break only to climb on top of him minutes later, begging him to feed you his cock again.

His cock pulses on your tongue at the memory, your voice high-pitched as you cried, Daddy, please, I want it. And Joel couldn’t resist his special girl. How could he? When you softly gasped into his mouth as he pushed the blunt head of his cock past your puffy folds — nuzzling in and making a home for himself — where he belongs. Your warm, drooling cunt sucking him in to the hilt, sheathing the entirety of his hard length inside your messy little pussy. 

Joel is a strong man, but not when it comes to you. 

Please, please, I need to feel it inside me. All the way up here, daddy, you whined, one hand gliding up your belly, the other fisting the fabric of your lace-trimmed dress. He just couldn’t resist you. So he fucked you and fucked you deep, until he was in the soft pouch of your tummy and poking through from the other side, just as you had asked of him. He fucked you full of his spend, until your poor, tiny hole couldn’t take any more of his cum. 

He’d damn himself to hell before he’d refuse you. He only hopes you don’t deny him if you wake. 

His deft, roughened fingers brush the hair out of your face before settling his hand back on your head. He sits up and leans over; marveling at the stretch of your lips around him, sweat beginning to pool at the nape of his neck and the corners of his temples. 

He feels filthy. A dirty old man. He’s never taken you like this before. But it doesn’t feel wrong. He’s only missing those pretty sounds you make —

You stir and let out a soft moan around him. Sweet Jesus, there you go. Your head dips lower down his belly, nestling more of his length into your hot mouth. Atta fuckin’ girl. Let me in, baby. Open up real big for daddy. 

“Such a naughty little thing, lettin’ me fuck your throat while you’re sleepin’, just needed to be full o’me huh?” He whispers softly, and at that, you hum. Joel can’t help when he bucks up into your mouth in response, saliva pouring past your lips and onto his graying pubic hair. 

“Fuck, baby, you like gettin’ daddy all messy? Like chokin’ on daddy’s big cock?” He taunts, a grin tugging on his face. 

Once again, as if you can hear him, you hum. 

You’re so damn responsive. Or maybe you just like having his dick in your mouth.  

“Fuck, yeah, you do,” he pants, his voice strained with restraint. His free hand glides down to the swell of your ass — the softest skin he thinks he’s ever felt — and hikes up the frilly hem of those pink sleep shorts that he likes a little too much — the ones speckled with tiny red hearts — over one cheek, grabs a handful of your plush flesh, and squeezes. You moan, and Joel feels your tongue twitch, feather-like, beneath the heavy weight of his cock, then pressing up against the thick, pulsing vein on the underside of his shaft. He bites down on his lip to muffle the loud moan that sneaks past his lips, the back of his head hitting the couch behind him. 

“Goddamnit, takin’ me so damn well, even in your sleep, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he babbles, his eyes shut tight as he revels in the feeling of himself in your mouth, the action movie silently playing on the screen flashes against his eyelids, measured shaky breaths escaping him. The strong hand on your head easing you lower and lower to take more of him, your lips now grazing the drool drenched hair at his base.  

Your mouth feels like velvet around him — warm and soft and so perfect that his hips cant upwards unconsciously, the pace of his thrusts increasing. He’s losing himself in the haze of his fast-approaching release, a deep-seated tension building in his gut, teetering on the edge until—

You splutter around him and Joel’s head snaps up to peer down at you, your eyelids flutter open against the soft glow of the television.

“Shit, baby. ‘M sorry,” he rasps and quickly retracts his hand from your head. Yet, you don’t pull yourself off him, instead you curl your weak fingers into his thigh. You don’t want him to stop. 

“You want me to keep going?” He asks gruffly, he knows you can take him, you’ve done it countless times since you have met. He’s trained you well. Yet, he needs to be certain he’s not reaching your limit. 

You drag your lips off his cock, an obscene wet slurping sound fills the too still air, letting off him with a pop and maneuvering yourself to sit up on your knees. “Yes, please daddy,” your voice still thick with sleep, peering up at him with an innocence to your needy gaze; a mixture of drool and precum coating your pouty lips. 

“Christ,” he mutters, under his breath. Such a pretty fuckin’ sight. One he reckons he’ll never get tired of seeing. He can’t deny you. Not when you look at him like that. 

“Okay, baby, here,” he murmurs, his hand retakes its place on the back of your head, guiding you toward his aching cock, your lips latch onto the fat head — all angry and red — and he inhales a shuddery breath as he watches your face contort at the stretch of him in your mouth. 

Your tongue flattens underneath him and he presses himself deeper into your willing mouth, filling you up and messaging the walls of your throat with the wide head of his cock. 

His grip in your hair tightens and a low groan rumbles in his throat, “There you go, baby, hold still.”  

Fucking hell. He could keep you here forever. 

“So goddamn pretty like this, baby,” Joel grits, “Love havin’ your mouth stuffed full o’ my cock, huh?” 

You make a low muffled sound around the length of his cock.

“S’right, you do,” he answers for you.  

His free hand trails down the length of your body, instinctively gripping the meat of your ass, dull fingernails digging into your skin, just barely grazing your puckered hole. You whine around him, the vibrations from your throat has him flexing his fingers your hair in response, and with shallow, quick thrusts of his hips, he fucks himself into your mouth. 

Fresh tears begin to sprout in your eyes as you gulp hard, your throat constricting around him. Joel feels his throbbing tip choked tight at the small opening at the back of your throat. The warm walls of your throat so tight — so good for him — the muscles in his belly tighten, and the hand on your ass is quick to join the other on your head, gripping your skull. “Shit— that’s it, angel. M’comin’.” His dick pulsates on your tongue, and a loud, guttural groan spills from him as hot, thick spurts of his cum coat your throat. His hand holds you there, firmly pressing your mouth flush to his spit-smeared balls. He feels you swallow around him again, and he whines quietly. The muscles in his jaw go slack, and his head falls back onto the couch while he lazily thrusts upwards, his leaking head bruising the back of your throat as he empties the last of himself into your mouth and filling your belly, his chest heaving from exertion.

He lifts his head when he feels you pull off him; you cough softly against him, the warmth of your breath brushes against his now softening cock, and his hooded gaze meets the sight of a thin string of saliva and cum dribbling from your wet, puffy lips, tears dripping from the corner of your eyes and down your cheeks. “Oh, c’mere, little bug, lemme see.” 

Just as he taught you, you plant a small, wet kiss on each of his heavy balls. Joel sighs through his nostrils. Fuck. What did he do to deserve you? You’re too good for him. You scoot over to sit up in his lap. Joel feels the slick between your legs through your tiny shorts when you press against his soft cock. He lets out a little groan; if he hadn’t just come, he’d be getting hard at the sensation.

His hand reaches to grip your jaw, angling your face up as you present him with your open mouth, the corners of his lips twitch at the sight of the walls of your little throat; empty, swollen, and used. 

“My filthy girl, you did so good f’me,” he cooes, coaxing away your tears and swiping your glistening lips clean. He pushes the pad of his thumb — covered in slobber and cum — into your mouth and presses it onto your tongue. Your wet eyes lock with his as you enthusiastically suck his thumb clean. 

Man alive. Maybe you’ll damn him to hell.

You release his thumb and giggle, biting your lip and smiling up at him dreamily. “Thank you, daddy, I liked it,” you rasp quietly. 

“Yeah?” He breathes, both of his hands on either side of your face, thumbs stroking your wet cheeks. 

Your wide, glassy eyes meet his gaze, “I like when you do things that make you feel good, it makes me feel good,” your voice hoarse and small, fingers toying with the collar of his t-shirt.

“Well – you always make daddy feel good, little angel,” he praises, leaning forward to lay a long kiss to your forehead that elicits a breathy sigh from you, your eyelids fluttering closed. 

“You tired, baby?” He whispers, tucking your soft hair behind your ear, fingers stroking down your hair and twirling the end of the gathered strands between his fingers.   

You yawn quietly and give him a slow, small nod, a sleepy smile to your face as you sink down in his lap, your weeping cunt throbbing against him. He’ll play with your perfect little pussy in the morning. Maybe your other little hole too. 

He chuckles at that. “Alright, little bug...” he starts, tucking his soft cock back into his sweats. He scoops you up into his arms; his weak, achy knees pop, and a low grunt spills from him as he stands, “Bedtime.”

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance - Traverse Town

[build-a-buddy]

Build a Bear Fennec Fox

[bulbagarden]

hiya trainers, lisia here again!! just wanting to tell you about our one-shot fanfiction contest that i'm running over on our forums, specifically in our writers' workshop, which i'm the head of! our theme this year is fall -- very open-ended, but we think our writers will be able to use it in many creative ways!

here's the link! https://bulbagarden.net/threads/fall-2024-one-shot-contest-announcement.303264/unread

signups close on the 24th, so please register even if you're not fully sure you'll be able to commit to submitting an entry! me and blanc are both hoping to write entries for it, and i'll be judging, so we hope to see you there~.

our prizes range from advertisement on our social media accounts, to (maybe) a forums badge, to a secret new forums feature being unveiled just for this!! you don't wanna miss it, so please, sign up if you're interested, or share with any you know who would be! o//

[theworkshopmann]

Heart Shot

For all the Cloud 9 lovers

Type: Warpaint

Class: ALL

Accepted in game: no

This warpaint was made by Steam users Ashannabuda and Crowdough. Posted on February 24th 2023, you can vote for this here!

[thousand-winters]

Thinking about a D&D episode now (shout out to @lord-pretzel for the tag that gave me the idea).

Kaido would bring up the idea because that's exactly the kind of thing he would like, so naturally Saiki, Kuboyasu and Nendo are getting dragged into it to different levels of willingness. Then either Teruhashi or Yumehara are hearing about it and they're getting involved now alongside Mera. Hairo gets invited because everyone likes Hairo and Saiko is dragged along via his soft spot for Nendo.

It's a whole disaster.

Kaido is DMing with the edgiest story known to mankind, but his dramatics are actually very good to act the part of the enemies when it comes down to it, especially since he's amongst friends so he doesn't have to worry about stage fright.

Saiki debated for a whole hour about what kind of character he should make and what everyone would assume about him based on that. In the end, he went with Human Fighter, he's fulfilling his dreams of being the most average guy ever (although he's suffering because he can read Kaido's thoughts and knows the plot twists, unless he acquired another germanium ring and brought it along to actually enjoy this).

Teruhashi really wanted to try one of the most out there races like Bugbear or Goblin, but she's still too worried about what that would say about her so she ended up going with an Elf. She ended up picking a Bard for her Class since being charming is kinda expected of her but she was eyeing the Barbarians and Monks.

Nendo would be a Fighter too became he wasn't paying attention and Kaido just gave him that because he figured it would be the least complicated. Or a Barbarian, which in the end doesn't matter much because he just uses his attacks whenever someone is attacking Saiki, most of the time he actually tries to play nice with whoever they encounter because this is Nendo.

Hairo makes a Monk and he's far too committed to the bit. He breaks one of the lamps in the Kaidos' household because he insists in actually acting out each attack his character makes. He's trying to get more "wins" than Nendo's character despite the fact this is a cooperative game and Nendo isn't even interested in competing in the first place, but that tracks for them.

Yumehara was mostly planning to try and flirt with the NPCs Kaido offered as a subtle hint so they would have to act out romance scenes, so she picked a half-elf for the pretty factor, but she ended up getting far too attached to her cool Fiend Warlock spells and forgot about her initial goal, now she's kinda invested in acting out her backstory and using her most heinous spells if she gets the chance (it's the Occult Club vibes carrying over).

Mera is more interested in the snacks they brought at first so she's not paying that much attention to the game, but because she had no time between her multiple jobs, her character is basically her with some Rogue cosmetics. Her backstory includes too providing for her siblings and she ends up getting oddly passionate about the NPCs paying the party for their services because she gotta provide for her family, she can't do this work for free, for shame.

Kuboyasu is trying the "what I want to be" approach and went all the way to the other side so he made a Paladin of Devotion. He has to remind himself not to try and beat the shit out of every NPC who's kinda rude to them or of Saiko's character because he has an oath and he's NOT going to break it, though he doesn't hesitate at all as soon as they get a reason to attack.

Saiko wasn't particularly interested in this in the first place but he ended up going for a Druid so he could have his tiger. He put a lot of emphasis on picking the Noble background so he could have retainers, which is a bit hard to reconcile with his class, but he wasn't having it any other way. He makes very good use of those NPC retainers so he can have them doing for his character all the things he would have his real life servant do. He provided at least 75% of the snacks because he didn't want to eat "peasant food".

Despite all the disaster, it becomes a tradition.

[bastard-pyro]

Newsflash, the Admech have an augmentation to make them more racist.

Alt text:

An excerpt taken from Fire Warrior, by Simon Spurrier, and published by Black Library on September 2003. The text reads as it follows:

of sophistication. Like some energistic equivalent of the gantry surrounding the powercore, the ship's logic engine was a structured gem: a perfectly aligned arrangement of operative tiers and commands, symmetrical and cohesive. Had his sense of awe been complete, he suspected, he might actually be impressed by the technology's complexity. As it was, the puritens surgery released a stream of disapproving endorphins into his mind, filling him with revulsion and making him all the more aware of the xenogens blatant disregard for the proper obeisance owed to the Machine God.

[thus-spoke-lo]

Zoro manages to always be around you when the seas get rough and the ship gets tossed and thrown about, just so he can be there to catch you as you lose your balance. It started off innocently enough, as he just happened to be there one afternoon during a storm as you pitch forward and landed face-first into his muscled chest, your hands flat against him, fingers gripping his shirt. He felt his face reddening as you realized your predicament, and he hoped you couldn't feel just how fast his heart was thrumming under your palm as you quickly pushed yourself away and mumbled something that sounded like an apology under your breath. Before he could even process it, he found himself always with an excuse to be by your side during storms or rough waters, there just in time to catch you and feel your body pressed against his, your softness melting into him, his arms instinctively wrapping around you and pulling you tighter. He wasn't even sure if he cared anymore if you noticed his breath quickening or his heart threatening to pound out of his chest; he wasn't even sure if he cared if you noticed the bulge in his trousers that ached at the sound of your whimpers and whines from the shock of being tossed around the deck. The sensation of your plush form wrapped tightly in his grasp, even if it was for only a moment to steady you, was becoming like a drug to Zoro, compelling him to find any way he could to brush against you as you moved in narrow hallways or squeeze past you in tight doorways in the kitchen, his hands gripping your shoulders as he muttered a low "Scuse me," before slowly working his way behind you, trying to catch a whiff of shampoo on your hair, just enough to commit to memory for when he was alone in his bunk later. Zoro had to think you would end up becoming suspicious at some point, that you'd start to wonder why the stoic swordsman seemed to always be around you at the most convenient times, seemed to always be ready and willing to wrap you in his steel-cabled arms at a moment's notice, seemed to always have a grip on your arm or fingers brushing your shoulders as you passed by him.

Maybe it didn't matter if you realized it, he mused as he laid down on the hard floor of the observation deck. He closed his eyes and conjured up images of you, sweet and wide-eyed and pressed against him, your body warm and your lips wet and wanting, and his wide hand slid down the front of his pants with ease. Maybe it didn't matter, he thought, letting out a sharp hiss as he gripped himself, because the way you had started lingering on him when you'd pitch forward into him, your fingertips running down the hard lines of his chest and abs before you pulled away, and the way you had started shoving your ass against him as you passed in the tight hallways, grinding it into his pelvis as you glanced over your shoulder and whispered "Oops," told him there was a very, very good chance you didn't mind at all.

[khaopybara]

Our own gossip boy said today during today's live that The Heart Killers workshops will happen in June (which makes a lot more sense to me) and the shooting for the series will start next month (July), so yeah, it'll take a little longer, but it's coming anyway.

[flufflecat]

I met a lovely bumblebee a few days ago (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

[puppitproductions]

Been working on making doll eyes again, these are the first two tests.

[joelsdagger]

walk the line || one shot

masterlist | ao3

pairing: boston qz!joel x f!reader summary: you and joel have a deal: sex in exchange for supplies. no questions asked. so what happens when you do? or joel fucks you while you’re in a headlock. that’s pretty much it. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: boston qz era, undefined relationship, mentions of sexual favors, choking, rough unprotected p in v sex, dark!joel, mean!joel [in the sense that he doesn’t let her come oops :( ], dubcon [reader tries to loosen his grip], noncon [i’m putting this here just in case], no aftercare. think that’s it. word count: 1.2k

a/n: just….don’t ask. i don’t know what this is. thank you to @papurgaatika for holding a gun to my head so i would post this looking this over, love you schmooks <3 

please heed the tags. protect your peace if this isn’t for you.

He’s being rough. Rougher than the countless times he’s fucked you before. 

In the time since you and Joel started this whole arrangement, you never needed to tell him to fuck you at a blistering pace. He just did it. 

Because you and him are the same. He told you that once. He said that you and him are two sides of the same coin. Both of you are always keeping your walls up and people out. Always keeping everyone at arm’s length. It made this arrangement easy, simple. 

There was just one rule: Nothing personal. A rule you happily got on board with. Getting personal is not really your thing. You learned that it was easier to survive at the end of the world without having someone to care about. Staying detached worked for you. You didn’t care enough about Joel Miller to even bother giving him a second thought. 

At least, that’s what you wanted to believe. 

A few minutes ago, you made the mistake of doing just that. 

You got personal. Flicked open the glass casing and pushed the big red button. Nobody gets personal with Joel Miller. Most importantly, you don’t. No. Never you. And now he’s punishing you. Maybe he’s punishing himself too, because he didn’t stop you. Didn’t stop this.

He’s being brutal, intense, and mean. And usually you could handle it because, like plenty of times before, you wanted him to.

But this time, you didn’t.

Your cunt is sensitive, and it hurts; it burns more and more with every rough snap of his hips; warm liquid pricks at your eyes in discontent. Your swollen cunt betrays you, squeezes around his wide girth, and he grunts against the shell of your ear in response. You’re sure he thinks you're begging him for more. To him, the swift flutter of your cunt is a silent tell to pick up the pace. 

And he does. Relentlessly. 

With every unforgiving thrust of his hips, knocking the wind out of your lungs, and the firm hold of his forearm against your neck, compressing your throat, you were barely hanging on. Black spots spatter across your vision, and your eyes slip closed; tears of anguish streak down your cheeks.

It’s too much. You choke on a sob, and your hand comes up to his left arm, weakly tugging at it, attempting to make space between the crook of his elbow and your neck to suck in an ephemeral breath of air. 

Instead, he tightens his grip on you; his left arm pulls you into his chest, and his right hand moves heavily to the top of your head as he brutally fucks up into your throbbing hole. Your head dips back beneath his chin, and the crown of your skull stings as the plastic clip hanging out at the bottom of the valve of his gas mask digs into your scalp.

Your failure to follow his rule — his only rule — had pissed him off so immensely that he didn’t even waste a second to remove his mask.

His muffled voice cuts through the thick haze that took over your mind. “Stay,” he orders through gritted teeth, and you obey.

Because he’s teaching you a lesson.

With him, you mind your tongue.

With him, you do as you're told. 

With him, you don’t ask questions.

With him, you don’t get fucking personal. 

And with your head locked between both of his strong arms and his fat cock hammering your cunt, punching at your cervix — forcing himself in — he makes certain of that. Makes your mind go fucking blank. Because when your sloppy cunt is stuffed full of his cock, your mind goes fuzzy, and your body goes limp in his hold, you are in no position to question him. To pry. To challenge him. To fight him. A brutal, shattering reminder that Joel Miller calls the shots.

And Joel doesn’t say a word. Not this time. Not when he’s using your body as a way to cope with his anger — to get himself off. It’s all breathless groans and grunts that tell you your holes are enough to satisfy him. And for a moment, you can’t help but wonder if this is how he always saw you — a means to an end.

Maybe you felt the same way about him.

You don’t have time to dwell on it because then you feel it — he twitches inside your aching cunt, signaling his rapid release. He hisses as he pulls out of your wasted hole, his length bobs against the crease beneath your ass, smearing your sweaty skin with your mixed wet. His cock throbs against you as his seed spills onto your quivering legs, coating your inner thighs, and leaking onto the tattered, moth-eaten mattress. 

You whimper pathetically as his arms release you, and your shuddering form falls forward, crashing into the dusty mattress beneath you. Your chest heaves as your hand comes up to the column of your neck, your weak fingers pressing at the sharp, searing pang there. You don’t doubt your skin has already begun to smart. You cough profusely as your lungs fill with air, a humiliating attempt at catching your breath. 

Joel’s left hand comes down beside your head on the mattress, cushioning his fall as he hovers over you. He groans as his other hand replaces your cunt, and with every fast, wet pump of his fist, the pulsing tip bumps against your skin; his release now paints the small of your back.

A first. 

And in the back of your mind, you try telling yourself it’s his way of claiming you — that he still wants you after you stepped out of line. Your stomach lurches at the same time your cunt flutters at the thought. You’re not sure how you feel about it, but you do know you feel empty without him inside you. And other than what happened here, he typically makes you feel good. Leaves you satisfied before he chases his own release.

Today, he didn’t. He used your body as a means for punishment, and you let him. A penance. For crossing the line he told — you both agreed not to overstep. 

A few moments later, you’re pulling your distressed jeans over your cum-coated thighs while your glassy eyes watch Joel as he zips up his own, his eyes fixed on the molded wooden floor in front. “Joel,” your voice hoarse and raw. 

He peers up at you beneath his lashes, the sunlight clawing through the taped-up window catches on his eyes; the amber in his hazel irises glowering in the light. 

“It won’t happen again,” you whisper.

“No,” he leans forward, grabs his gas mask you didn’t notice he pulled off, and the orange pill bottle you were meant to deliver to him without sticking your nose where it didn’t belong, and he grunts while he moves to stand, “it won’t.” 

And only when his heavy footsteps fade down the dark hallway of the abandoned building on the outskirts of the QZ, leaving you alone to stare back at the pale, rotten wallpaper with a painful and pleading ache between your trembling legs, do you realize exactly why no one defies Joel fucking Miller.

[legionofpotatoes]

postcard thumbnail generator unlimited

[punks-never-die205]

Workshop

Fem Reader x Eustass Kid

One Shot - 2,510 words

CW: Language, sexual themes and situations, bondage, use of toys, rough sex, consensual, modern implied au, 18+ only

Your body trembled, but you weren't surprised. You'd lost, fair and square as far as you could tell, and this was the price for that. The small device vibrated deep inside your sopping wet folds, as it had been since you woke up this morning. These were the parameters you had agreed to when you first decided to play cards again Eustass-"Captain"-Fucking-Kid.

Two hours later you thought the battery would be dead, but Kid probably modified the egg-shaped vibrator, assuming the bastard hadn't just built the thing from scratch himself. You knocked on the door of his garage and heard the shift of metal and the usual grumpy grousing of your – admittedly – favorite red head.

When he opened the door the aggravated look on his face melted away to one very pleased grin.

"How're you doing, Mouse?"

"I've been up, and showered, since 7am, Kid." You explain, doing your best to keep your voice steady. It had been having an effect on you a little before now, but having Kid practically leer at you while you were talking caused the heat to rise in your face.

And pool in your thighs.

"And?"

You flinch and pull out the remote control from your pocket. "And the battery hasn't died in the last two hours, asshole."

"Underestimated my ability at cards, and then underestimated my battery." Kid leans over you, whispering in your ear. His voice is low, and authoritative, the tone of it sends shivers to your core. "Going to underestimate anything else?"

You lick your lips and swallow hard. "No." You don't look at him when you reply, but you know your face is giving you away regardless.

There's a moment of silence, and then you feel the egg vibrating harder inside you. Kid must've cranked the remote, but you hadn't seen him move. You make a noise, that catches in your chest and your legs shudder as you reach out and steady yourself against him.

There's a pleased hum from him, you can almost feel more than hear, and you're sure he's grinning that sly cheeky grin of his. The new power behind the vibrating egg is swelling pleasure up inside you way faster than the low setting it had been on all morning had managed. But it wasn't enough to grant you release, at least not on its own.

"K-Kid, haa, please." You've literally been being toyed with for the last two hours and you were desperate before you'd even gotten into your car and come over to the shop.

"Mm begging is a good start Mouse." His metal arm wraps around your back and his right hand tilts your chin up, forcing you to look up at him. Your face is flushed, and your breathing is heavy, a strong needy desire etched in your expression.  "That's a good look on you."

He leans down, and pulls you up to him in the same movement, crashing your lips into his and pulling the air from your lungs with the deep kiss. The pleasure of the kiss, and the pressure of being held are almost enough to make the vibrations from the egg bring you to the edge.

Almost, but not enough. If he'd just squeeze your ass or tease a nipple like the ruffian usually does you'd be a puddle on the floor, but you already know he's consciously avoiding doing so.

You whimper as the kiss breaks, your heavy, panting breaths falling over Kid's skin. The smirk on his lips is almost cruel but being at his mercy like this is delicious. You squirm a little, but Kid's got a good grip on you, and he walks both of you into his workshop in the back of the garage.

There's the crash and clatter of metal as the workbench is cleared and Kid sets you down on it. He pulls your wrists over your head, and you feel him set them against something wooden. There's the soft snap of things clicking into place and you realize your hands are stuck. You struggle against the restraints and a soft moan escapes you.

"Mm, I know you like being restrained, Mouse, but already making sounds like that?" Kid muses, pulling your shoes off and tossing them aside. You didn't have to see his face to know the shape of the devious grin that was on it. "Feels a bit like Christmas."

You felt him pop the button of your jeans and the heat rushes to your face as a satisfied sound comes from him.

"Nothing under the jeans? Naughty girl." You can feel him licking his lips as he pulls the jeans off roughly, tossing them somewhere around your shoes.

Warm fingers, and cold metal ones, move over your bare legs. The light touches cause you to tremble and squirm, pulling against what has your wrists held as your legs try to pull away from the ticklish sensations. You're whimpering into the air at every little touch, and Kid is delighting in it.

He hooks your squirming legs over his elbows, spreading you open and keeping you in place. You squirm harder, trying to bring your legs closed, but there's no way for you to do so. Your body tenses and twitches, your breathing coming out in heavy moan-laced gasps.

"Fuck. You're literally dripping." Kid swears. "I don't think I've ever seen you so wet."

"Hngh, don't st-stare like that," you whimper weakly, knowing there's nothing you can do about it.

"Sure thing, Mouse." Kid replies, and before you can vocalize your confusion your legs are pushed open further as Kid's mouth dives into you. His tongue and lips find your swollen clit quickly, and he abuses it without mercy.

The rush of pleasure bucks through your whole body and after you manage to suck in a deep breath you're practically screaming into the workshop. Between the egg vibrating inside you and Kid consuming you, your first shuddering orgasm hits you hard and fast. Every muscle tenses, your toes curl, and the sound that comes out of you is more of a guttural grunt than a moan. You convulse so hard inside and out that you hear the vibrating egg clatter to the floor, only vaguely aware of its exit.

Pleasure surges through your body like an actual current, spasming your muscles and causing your head to spin from lack of oxygen as most of it is spent vocalizing the hard orgasm. The mechanical egg was polite enough to vacate and give you a little reprieve, but the empty feeling was almost worse. Besides, Eustass isn't as kind as the egg, and continues sucking on your clit until you've rode out every twitch and sensation from the orgasm.

"What a good pet," he muses, licking and slurping your pussy like it's ambrosia. His continued enjoyment of you is beginning to build you up to another climax.

Putting his hands on the edge of the workbench, keeping your legs spread wide as he leans over you, his face is glistening with signs of your orgasm, and he licks his lips before leaning down and kissing you deeply.

His erection grinds against you, causing you to moan into his mouth. By the time he breaks the kiss you're red in the face, panting heavily, tongue practically falling out of your mouth. Your brain feels like mush and the pleasure pooling in your thighs isn't fading.

"Already blissed the fuck out, huh Mouse?" Kid muses, not expecting or waiting for a reply from you. "Well, it's a shame we're not done yet."

You can hardly register what's going on until there's something hard poking against your still twitching entrance. His pants are no longer in the way, and you feel his hot flesh slipping up and down along your twitchy sopping pussy. The sensation is enough to pull a few soft whimpers from you, but you're still lost in a thick haze of pleasure.

As you finally start to come down from your first high you see Kid's deliciously devious grin looking down at you. The grin makes your heart leap, a mix of delight and fear that he's going to fuck you unconscious. There's recognition in his face, and he knows you're more aware than you were a moment ago.

"Welcome back," he grins and rams his entire cock into you with a rough grunt. You twitch and tense around him, the air is pushed from you and the cry of pleasure as he fills you is cut short from the rush of oxygen that leaves you. Your legs wrap around him involuntarily, pulling him in close, and you hear him swear as his fingers dig into your hips for a moment.

He gives both of you only the barest moment to adjust before he starts moving in long, terribly slow strokes that cause your breath to hitch in your throat. His hands slip up your hips and past your waist, pushing your shirt up as he slides back into you slowly.

Fingers, metal and flesh alike, pinch and roll your nipples between deftly moving digits. His pace picks up as he starts twisting the sensitive and hard peaks of flesh. The sounds coming from you are a mix of pleasure and pain, hissing against a particularly sharp pinch or twist and moaning at the building pleasure between your thighs. You can't defend against either sensation as he seems to decide between pleasure and pain randomly.

It doesn't take long and you're tensing underneath him again.

"K-kiiiiid," you moan, your back arching. "I'm gonna-!"

He pushes into you faster, his hands providing nothing but pleasure as the building wave crashes into you again. As the orgasm tears through your body, Kid twists your nipples harshly, the pain rips through your sensitive body alongside the pleasure and your whole body bucks and curls. You scream out his name, and your body collapses into the work bench in a pile of deliriously pleasurable sensations that have your brain addled.

You're covered in a thin sheen of sweat, panting heavily and almost shivering from the exhaustion of having orgasmed so hard in such short order. Kid's hand is moving over your body slowly, his hips just barely rolling to remind you of his need still buried deep between your thighs.

"Fuck, you're beautiful like this (Y/N)." His voice is husky, needy, and deep. It's a velvet growl, elegant as it is hungry, while his tongue slips across his sharp, nearly feral teeth as if to punctuate his desire.

Those golden eyes are locked on you. You can feel yourself completely caught by him, almost completely devoured by his lust and love in equal measure. You lack the strength to lift your legs, or roll your hips back against him, and when he sees you trying, he smiles. Hooking your knees over his elbows again, he leans down and kisses you, pushing himself deep inside both of your mouths.

"Hang on just a little longer, Mouse." Kid commands you, licking along your neck before he sucks hard on the tender flesh, biting it enough it turns your pleasurable gasp into a small grunt of pain.

He leans back, and you see the terrible glint in his eye as he pulls a vibrating wand from under the bench. He pushes your legs wide and reaches around your thigh with the wand, pressing it against your clit as he starts to move inside you again.

"Kid... Kid, that's gonna, hngh," you struggle weakly, but the look on Kid's face assures you that if you want this to stop, you'd have to say the magic word and stop the entire thing. And you can't bring yourself to do that, as exhausted as you are, you're also terribly curious.

"Oh it's gonna something alright," he promises you, and flicks the switch that brings the vibrator roaring into high gear against your throbbing clit.

Your body tenses despite your exhausted state, and pleasure tears through you as you clamp down on Kid's cock. There's a grunt of appreciation from him and he begins to move, long deep thrusts that get faster and faster until he's pounding into you just slow enough to keep the vibrator in place.

"Mm, fuck, Mouse. I can barely feel the vibrator over your pussy twitching against me like that." Kid purrs, thrusting into you with more force, his hips pushing deep into your thighs with each movement.

You can't manage to form any words, and nothing but a mess of gasps and half-mumbled curses of pleasure manage to dribble from your mouth. The pleasure pools for a third time, and the combination of the vibrator and Kid's skills rip another orgasm from you. The air freezes in your lungs as your entire body tightens, you can feel Kid's rhythm fall apart as he twitches deep inside you.

After a long few seconds you're able to suck in a breath as your body's muscle release from the bone-deep pleasure that has white spots dancing in your vision. You're barely aware of Kid pulling out of you, the empty feeling left behind isn't so rude when your mind's lost in a fog.

As you are on the edges of consciousness and bliss, Kid carefully releases your wrists and slowly moves your body. He cradles you against his bare chest, kissing your forehead with a gentleness no one else knows he's capable of, and carries you out of the workshop and into the spare room he added to the shop some years ago.

He gets you cleaned up, massaging your sore muscles and kissing you softly, letting you nuzzle into him as you start to come back down from your pleasure. Your shaky, tired, spent body is wrapped in an oversized towel, and you're cradled into Eustass Kid's lap as he sits on the bed, his back against the wall.

He kisses your damp locks lovingly, hugging your warm body to his chest. You can feel the low rumbles of contentment humming through his chest, and you wiggle an arm free from your towel burrito to run your fingers over his chest. You smile up at him as he looks down at you, there's sense and light in your eyes, as you're finally becoming fully aware of things around you again.

"How're you feeling?" He asks, a cocksure grin on his face.

"Deeply satisfied, and deeply exhausted," you admit with a smile, leaning into him and letting yourself sink into the comfortable after care.

"I build good toys," he says, and you agree with a soft giggle as he nips at your ear. His forehead nuzzles into your hair and he whispers into your ear. "I love you, (Y/N)."

This kind and gentle Eustass Kid was a side of him you got to keep all to yourself. "I love you too, Kid." You assure him, turning toward him and sharing a warm kiss before you lean back against his chest. Neither of you were going anywhere anytime soon, and these quiet moments were among some of your favorite.

[bulbagarden]

we're running a shipping one-shot fanfiction contest over on our forums! signups end on march 31, and we have quite a few categories for entrants to be winners in -- both romantic and platonic ships are accepted! winners get free reviews and possibly other prizes, and go in our writers' workshop hall of fame!! i (lisia) am helping run the event, and blanc and i are going to try and participate, so come join us if you'd like...! hope to see you there o7