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#i will be fifty screaming about this show
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If you’re unable to talk about Gaza without bringing up & condemning Hamas then you are buying into pro-genocide rhetoric. Israel’s violent assault on Gaza & the Palestinian people has been going on for much longer than Hamas has ever existed, and of course, Hamas only exists due to Israeli government intentionally destabilising the political climate in Palestine. By starting every conversation about this genocide with “don’t support Hamas though girlies!!!” you are letting the rhetoric of the genociders win. The state of Israel has decimated more lives than Hamas ever could.
This refers to the tags I posted earlier today, I guess, and...
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I mean, yes, you're right, I just don't know where you get the idea that I actually think you need to condemn Hamas? Seriously, I'm not going to participate in another discussion about whether or not Hamas is justified in what they did, I learned my lesson last time. But I am going to say this: If I have to read another "but what about the hostages!!!!!1!!11!" comment on an unrelated post documenting IOF war crimes, I might just throw up.
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eglerieth · 5 months
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Some of y’all are not appreciating Bilbo Baggins enough. I am here to remedy that. This guy has:
• somehow managed to establish himself as a respectable, staid hobbit by the time he was fifty, despite being both a grandson of Bullroarer Took and the Shire champion of pretty much every aiming-game known to hobbitkind
• had an in-depth debate on pleasantries with a random guy passing by in the street, who turned out to be GANDALF
• collapsed in front of his own fire shaking and muttering “struck by lightning” over and over again in response to hearing about dragons and danger
• mind you, this was after he screamed loud enough to startle a roomful of Dwarves
• signed up for a dangerous quest completely outside of his league out of spite
• when told to scout out a mysterious light, saw some trolls, and instead of reporting back with the information, decided to PICK THE TROLLS POCKET
• arrived in Rivendell for the first time and said it “smelled like elves”
• upon meeting a strange creature that visibly wanted to eat him, he decided to play a riddle game with him- and guessed pretty much every one, and made up his own riddles, afraid and alone, that not only were good and full of linguistic puns, but actually stumped the other guy- AND THEN CHEATED AND WON WITH A QUESTION
• showed mercy to said strange creature who wanted to kill him, and was now standing between him and freedom
• eavesdropped on the dwarves arguing over whether to try to save him, then popped up casually smack in the middle of them just as they were debating
• somehow managed to sleep like a log at the really really high eyrie full of wild predators
• found himself in a bad situation, said eff it, and turned around and antagonized and fought off an insane amount of man eating spiders, like enough of them that fifty was a small portion, by singing at them with incredibly complex and punny insulting songs composed on the spot, while simultaneously slaying them in multitudes despite having zero combat training. Seriously, we don’t discuss enough how epic the spider scene is.
• broke a company of dwarves out of the very secure prison of the Elvenking by inventing white water rafting with barrels
• charmed his way out of being eaten by a dragon
• stole the frickin Arkenstone from the guys who employed him, one of whom was a king
• took part in an epic battle, only to be knocked out in the first ten minutes and miss the entire thing
• was named elf-friend by the guy who’s prisoners he sprung
• wrote his own autobiography, complete with all the narrative recognition of his own heroics
• spent 60 years writing said autobiography
• taught his lower class neighbor’s kid how to read
• taught his nephew Elvish- not only Sindarin, but Quenya too
• spent decades telling his cousins his own story as fairy tales, complete with character impressions accurate enough that one of them was able to fool a servant of the Enemy with a second hand impression
• used the One Ring of Power to hide from his neighbors
• planned an elaborate feast with multiple social faux pas to mess with his neighbors, complete with a purposefully bewildering speech and culminating in him vanishing into thin air in front of everyone
• left his cousins and neighbors very unsubtle passive aggressive gifts in his will
• settled into Rivendell, randomly befriended the heir to the throne of like half of Middle Earth, and apparently spent his time writing very personal poems about his hosts and reciting them to crowds of elves
• after being invited to a Council of basically every major kingdom in the continent, spent a quarter of the time reciting vague poems about his friends, a quarter of the time telling anyone who would listen about his heroic past, and half the time interrupting to ask when lunch would be
• volunteered to bring the ring to Mordor
• became one of only four or five mortals in history to live in Valinor
Seriously, Bilbo Baggins may well be the most chaotic, insane person in the entire legendarium, and that includes the likes of people like Finrod “bit a werewolf to death to save the life of guy who he just met and gave up his kingdom for” Felagund.
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joelscruff · 6 months
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truth or dare (joel miller x f!reader) 18+
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notification blog | kofi | in honor of my bestie han @swiftispunk who recently celebrated her birthday (and in honor of spooky season starting 🎃) i thought i'd step outside the boundaries of what i usually write and try something new. i'd also like to give a huge shoutout to @toxicanonymity whose entire masterlist greatly influenced my desire to try something like this. please heed the warnings!!! and as i said this is my first time writing anything like this so pls be kind 🫠
summary: a harmless game of truth or dare ends with you tied up in a certain mysterious neighbor's garage. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: dubcon (reader is given a choice to leave, but not immediately), dark!joel, age gap (reader is college age, joel is in his fifties), unprotected p in v sex, use of restraints, ropes, spanking, degradation, sir kink, dirty talk (use of 'little girl' as a pet name), face fucking, rough sex, creampie, brief anal play, humiliation, inappropriate use of a household item (he puts a flashlight up her cooch), marking (with a sharpie), size kink (joel is much bigger than reader and can lift her), pls lemme know if i forgot anything word count: 8.3k
Your palms are sweaty, fingers sticking to your skin as you stand at the edge of the property with goosebumps already blooming along your flesh. The air is chilly, that end of summer evening air flooding your nostrils as a car drives past through streams of leftover rainwater, headlights blurring your vision for a moment. It passes quickly and you're alone again, standing on the street corner with a mixture of anticipation and dread filling your trembling body.
Everything had been fine about twenty minutes ago. A typical party with your hometown friends, one last hurrah before everyone splits off for the third year in a row to go back to their respective colleges, back to long lectures and underwhelming frat boys. It had gone the same way it always does when you get together - shots, secrets, schemes. No end of summer party could ever be complete without a game of truth or dare, not for your crowd anyway.
It had started simple. "Which one of us had the best glow-up this year?" "I dare you to text the last guy you slept with." "What's the kinkiest thing you've done with somebody?" "I dare you to show us the last nude someone sent you." Typical borderline adolescent challenges, things you all still followed through with despite being too old for the game - it's the principle of it, to indulge and pretend, if only for a little while, that life is as simple as it once was.
"Who's the last person you had a sex dream about?"
You'd twisted your hands awkwardly in your lap, felt heat rush to the apples of your cheeks. Usually a question like this wouldn't make you hesitate, but the subject of the answer had been a slightly embarrassing one. As soon as the name Joel Miller had fallen from your lips, you'd been met with screams and squeals and excited chatter from every direction.
"He's so fucking creepy though," one of your friends had said with wide eyes, palm over her mouth, "He gives off serial killer vibes."
"Oh please, he's not that bad," another had chimed in, "He's just a loner, kinda mysterious. I see the vision."
"Are we forgetting the part where he's old as hell? Dude must be in his fifties, at least."
"But that means experience."
"It could also mean limp dick."
"You guys are disgusting," you'd moaned, leaning back on your hands, "It was one dream, let's move on."
And they had. Briefly. Until it was once again your turn and they'd all rounded on you with cheshire cat grins and glinting stares. You should have known what was coming when you chose Dare.
"I dare you to go over to his house."
You'd resisted, of course. The dare itself didn't even make much sense; what were you meant to do? Go over and ding-dong-ditch his front door like a twelve year old boy? But it had only snowballed from there, all five girls tossing in their own thoughts and ideas, talking and giggling over each other. "She should ask him on a date." "She should just flirt a little bit, see how he reacts." "She could see how far she can get with him, maybe?" "Oh shit, that's good."
You could have always said no - there was no way any of them could force you to do it, even if it would have ended the party abruptly with grumbled complaints and a slammed door. But the more they talked the more you found yourself listening, letting the concept sink in, the images of the dream you'd had the other night flooding to the front of your mind. Mysterious and elusive Joel Miller, big hands covered in the motor oil he uses to tinker with his truck, trailing his messy fingers between the swells of your breasts...
They'd managed to convince you just by the reminder alone, though also due to the fact that they'd each tossed in a twenty dollar bill and stated that simply getting a kiss on the cheek would warrant a win. The prospect was intriguing; it would be a testament to your own desirability, your game. How far can you get with your quiet neighbor who probably hasn't touched a woman in years? Who'll probably fold the second he realizes someone as young and beautiful as you is interested in him?
"I'll do it," you'd said with a smirk, rising from the hardwood, "How hard can it be?"
Harder than you thought, apparently. Because now you stand a few feet from Joel Miller's house, loitering soundlessly at the edge of his front lawn, hesitating. The sun has gone down, turning the hedges along the side of his property into frighteningly tall shadows, dark and menacing. A light breeze flows past and you wrap yourself tighter in your well-worn maroon cardigan, shivering, staring at your boots and wondering if you can really bring yourself to do this.
It'll be so humiliating if he rejects your advances. On the other hand, will it somehow be less-so if he returns your flirtatiousness and you then have to reject him once you've gotten what you came for? How will that make you look? You're not even really sure why you care - probably because the man has done nothing to you whatsoever, nothing that would warrant such a foolish prank as this being played on him. It makes you feel bad, in a way. As much as you and your friends make fun of him, he really is just a man who keeps to himself - perhaps this is going too far.
You notice light flickering nearby, a reflection of fluorescents in the puddles of his driveway. You figured he'd be in his garage - it's where he spends most of his time, bent over the exposed hood of the truck he's seemingly been working on ever since he moved in at the beginning of the summer. You've never seen him drive it, never even seen him leave the property, but you've passed by the house on more than one occasion. You've seen the way he rolls up the sleeves of his flannel, forearms splattered black and grey, expression focused on the task at hand while sweat drips from his greying temples.
Having a sex dream about him really shouldn't have been that shocking, now that you think about it. The man is a mystery, sure, but he isn't ugly by any means.
You swallow down your qualms, picturing the faces of your friends more than likely smooshed against the living room window a few houses back, watching. As soon as you turn the corner, you'll disappear from view, obstructed by the hedges and the sudden darkness of night. You take one more deep breath, one last burst of chilly evening air into your lungs, and accept your fate.
--
He doesn't notice you walking up his driveway, taking slow and meager steps as you assess the open garage, the truck with its hood popped as usual, the flickering of the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling. He doesn't notice you, but you notice him. You spot a pair of steel toed boots and long denim clad legs sticking out from underneath the truck, hear the clink and clang of metal against metal while he tinkers with something down there, unseen. As you reach the garage it becomes apparent that you still have one last chance to end this before it begins, turn around and take the loss.
But you don't.
"Excuse me," you offer in a weak voice, teetering nervously at the edge of the garage door, neither inside nor out - neutral ground.
The clinking stops, replaced by the steady pounding of your heart in your chest, the heaviness of your breathing. You try to loosen your hands from their fisted forms and unclench your fingers, focusing on the stretch of flesh and bone while the legs beneath the car slowly begin to inch forward. He's not laying on any type of support, one of those wheeled contraptions you've seen other people use - no, he's simply got his back to the ground, a back and body that's slowly coming into view.
His black and green flannel rides up where he's been laying on it, as well as the grey t-shirt he wears beneath; as he slides out from under the car you spot a bare sliver of skin just above his waistband, a patch of hair that trails down into his jeans. A lump forms in your throat. When he finally peeks his head out, you swallow around it and try to remember to breathe.
Greying hair slicked back behind his ears, cheekbones smeared slightly with something black, scruff lining a strong yet soft jawline, a plump bottom lip, and those eyes... dark brown, almost black. It's the face that's practically been haunting you all summer, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not.
His brow furrows as soon as he sees you, "Can I help you?"
It's not the first time you've heard him talk, but it's certainly the first time he's ever spoken directly to you. His accent is stronger than you remember, words slipping smoothly past his lips like butter as he eyes you from the floor of his garage, knees up, hands still hidden in the darkness. A few seconds pass before you realize he's asked you a question.
"Oh, um-" You haven't thought this through very far, that's for sure. What the fuck do you even say? You take a breath and remind yourself that you're good at this, have seduced your fair share of frat boys in the past two years with minimal effort and have never heard the word no. Sure, Joel Miller isn't a frat boy - far from it - but underneath his cold exterior he's still very much a man, and very much capable of falling under the spell of a beautiful woman. You hope, anyway.
"I was just taking a walk," you lie, "Saw your light on, thought I'd come say hi."
He stares at you blankly, like he's unsure exactly how he's supposed to respond - or perhaps he's already seeing through your façade. You take a step into his garage, poised at the edge as you lean casually against the opening.
"Honestly, um-" you push some hair behind your ear and attempt to look shy, though it's not a huge jump from how you're actually feeling, "I've been meaning to talk to you, before I go back to college."
At your words he raises an eyebrow and slowly brings his hands downwards, palms pressing flat against the dark concrete. You watch as he eases himself up and out from under the truck, and god he's tall - tall and broad and huge compared to you, a fact that sends a little flutter into your belly. He takes a step toward the work bench against the wall, eyes still on you as he reaches down and picks up a rag to wipe his hands, big and wide and streaked with oil. You remember your dream and feel a twinge in your underwear.
"Talk to me about what?" he asks, massaging the rag against his fingers.
You shrug as nonchalantly as you can, taking another step inside his garage, closer to where he stands at the work bench. You cross your legs in an attempt to show them off, stretching your ankle toward a spare tire on the floor and accentuating the sheerness of your black tights, the little run that splits the material at the inside of your knee, the hint of bare skin that peeks out beneath.
"Nothing in particular," you say, keeping your voice soft and steady but doing your best to keep that shy girlishness present, "Just... wanted to." You peer up at him from under your lashes and bite your lip, then reach out your hand for him to take. You say your name.
He assesses your hand but doesn't take it, brow still furrowed. "Joel," he replies, "And I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment. Don't really have time to talk." His voice is cold and gruff, absolutely no sign of interest or attraction - dammit.
"What're you doing?" you ask, tilting your head.
He continues to stare at you blankly, "What does it look like I'm doin'?"
Okaaaay, then.
You shrug again and take another step, turning to look at the wall next to you. Tools line the shelves, wrenches and screwdrivers and the like dangling rather precariously here and there, smeared in motor oil and dust. It's a mess but you'd be willing to bet that it's organized chaos, that he likes it this way.
"What's this?" you ask, pointing to a particularly large object, something that looks like a mixture between a pair of scissors and a wrench.
"Bolt cutters," he supplies you monotonously.
"Ohh," you say with a nod, leaning a bit into the confused pretty girl stereotype and hoping maybe he's a sucker for it, "And what's that?" You point toward a small cylindrical object, black and tactical, only a few inches long.
"You never seen a flashlight before?"
Oh. Right. "Woops," you giggle, "Sorry."
You turn your face to look at him sheepishly and he's still watching you, big arms now crossed against his broad chest - impatient. Well, this is clearly not working either. He's frowning, eyes so focused on your face that you feel almost naked beneath it, like he's staring into your soul. You clear your throat awkwardly and tug your bottom lip between your teeth, breaking your own gaze away from him and trying to find something else to comment on.
"So you've been working on your truck," you state, gesturing toward the vehicle as if only just noticing it was even there, "What's - uh - what's wrong with it?"
He's clearly not buying into whatever the fuck you're even trying to sell. He remains silent, eyes still on you, and suddenly it's like you've never even interacted with a man before - and to be honest, maybe you haven't. Frat boys are certainly not men by any means, and nowhere near in the same league as Joel Miller by a long shot, probably almost triple their age with a dark and mysterious aura that feels almost suffocating. He just stares at you, slightly unnerving, but also seductive in its own way, almost like he's challenging you.
"What do you want?" he asks blankly.
"I-I told you," your voice is already faltering, losing its flirtatious edge the more you realize how dumb of an idea this was, "I just wanted to talk to you."
"Yeah, I got that," he says stiffly, "Why?"
You've already exhausted the avenues you thought might work, which means you've got one last chance before he sends you packing. With bated breath you take the final few steps toward him and - averting your gaze - you reach your hand out to touch his forearm with your fingertips. It's feather light, but you're suddenly very aware of the goosebumps that rise on his freckled flesh, the way the thick hair on his arms seems to stand on end the second your skin touches his. Okay, now we're getting somewhere.
"I think you're handsome," you murmur softly, feeling warmth rush to your cheeks when you realize that it's not a lie. And it really isn't. As your gaze gradually tilts up you catch a glimpse of the hair on his chest, peeking out from under his grey t-shirt. You spot his pecs beneath the fabric of his flannel, see the throbbing veins in his neck, the coarseness of his scruff, the sharp curve of his nose, and those fucking eyes - looking at you with a darkness, a lust, that wasn't there before.
He's not just handsome; he's fucking gorgeous.
"What're you doin'?" he asks you, that gruffness still present but being taken over by something else, something darker.
"Nothing," you breathe, still trailing your fingers along his forearm until they reach its apex and dip into the soft part behind his elbow, damp with sweat. You swallow, throat going dry as you stroke his skin with your thumb.
"Doesn't feel like nothin'," his voice is quieter, matching yours, and he tilts his head slightly as he continues to stare into your eyes, "Why're you really here, sweetheart?"
Sweetheart. The word sends a burst of warmth to your chest, a smile to your lips. You unlock your eyes from his bashfully, watching your own movements as you trail your fingers back down toward his hand and wrap them around one of his fingers, so thick compared to your own. You squeeze gently, biting your lip again as you peer back up at him. Here it is. Moment of truth. You tilt your head up slightly, eyelashes fluttering as you lean forward to connect your lips with his.
Except, they don't connect.
Instead he pulls his hands away from you, brings them upwards and wraps them around your upper arms, squeezing tightly. Your eyes widen, confusion flooding your features.
"Turn around and bend over."
"W-what?" Shock doesn't even begin to describe the ice cold feeling that now makes its way through your body, edged with something else - something you can't explain.
"Turn around," he repeats, his big hands squeezing your arms even tighter - relentless, firm - as he peers down at you with a dark hunger in his eyes, glinting black beneath the fluorescents, "And bend over."
He does not give you another chance to obey - you're too frozen in surprise and confusion to do anything yourself. Instead, he uses the force of his weight on your arms to spin you on the spot, shoving you against the work bench. You feel one of his hands move from your arm to your back, pushing hard until you fold, warm cheek coming to rest against the cold wood.
"Wh-what are you doing?" your voice is meager, weak, and you feel him wrap one of his hands around both your wrists like it's nothing, pinning them against your back like they're simply twigs in his wide palm.
"What you're clearly fuckin' beggin' for," he replies gruffly, and you feel his other hand at your skirt, feel the brush of his fingertips at the hem as he reaches upward to grip the band of your tights. Your eyes widen and instinctively you pull back, pull away - he just pushes you back down.
"I'm not-" you begin, shock quickly being replaced with fear when you realize how easily overpowered you are, how fluidly he's able to tug down your tights and expose your ass to him, clad in only a black thong already lost between your cheeks.
"Oh, you're not, huh?" his voice is cold and stoic, angry, "You think you can play games with me, little girl?" His hand comes to rest against the swell of your behind and you suddenly feel his breath above you, hot in your ear, "Tell me why you're really here."
You try to lift your head up to look at him better but he just shoves you back down again. Panic floods your body, mixed with the unmistakable burn of arousal. You feel yourself twitch in your underwear, feel a sudden gush of warmth spill inside the fabric as he begins to trail his finger up and down the thin line of black cotton.
"I-I'm..." You're at a complete loss for words, unable to articulate anything, unsure of what exactly is happening - or about to happen. Two minutes ago you'd been sure he was about to tell you to leave, practically kick you out of the garage himself, and now you're not sure leaving is even a possibility.
He pulls his hand back and you cry out when it comes down to slap against one of your cheeks, a sharp sting and burn you hadn't been anticipating.
"Tell me why you're here," he repeats - authoritarian, firm.
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out except a frightened squeak, something which clearly eggs him on even more. He spanks you again, harder this time, palm flat and wide against your pebbled flesh. The sound that slips past your lips is somehow akin to a moan of some sort, guttural and deep.
"I'll just make it harder and harder, sweetheart," he says then, and the pet name no longer contains the warmth it did mere moments ago; instead it's cold and detached, mocking. You're still reeling when his hand comes down to slap against you again, even harder this time, and your hands ball into fists behind your back as you let out another low moan. More slick gushes into your panties and it's impossible to deny that somehow, despite the fear twinging in your heart, you're so fucking turned on.
"M-my friends," you gasp out, and you feel him squeeze your abused ass cheek which you're sure is already dark with his handprint, "They- they dared me to see how far I c-could get with you."
He lets your words sink in for a moment, squeezing again - tighter, so tight that it hurts. You whimper against the wooden top of the work bench, legs shaking.
"So you came here to get fucked," he finally states.
"N-no, I swear, I-"
"Wasn't a question," he interrupts, and you feel his other hand tighten around your wrists, "You came here to get fucked so you're gonna get fucked, end of story."
"But I-"
Without any warning he suddenly pushes himself up against you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans pressing deliciously up against your exposed skin. You gasp, eyes going wide when you feel the long, thick shape of his dick between your cheeks, huge and hard. He holds it there, his free hand coming down to lay flat beside your head against the work bench.
"You feel that?" he asks, voice suddenly quieter but still full of that ice cold malice, "You feel that cock?"
Fuck. "Y-yes," you breathe, "I feel it."
"You have five seconds before i close this door and stuff you full, understand?" Suddenly all you can hear is the heavy sound of his breathing, the panting of your own, the thud of your heart where it presses painfully against the wood. He's giving you an out.
"I- I-" you swallow, brows furrowing when you feel his hand slacken around your wrists. You could pull away now, yank yourself out of his grasp and sprint down his driveway, return to your friends. Forget this ever even happened.
It's your last chance.
"Five," he begins, breath warm against your face.
Run. Just run.
"Four."
But why?
"Three."
Why don't you want to run?
"Two."
Why do you want to stay?
"One."
He pulls his hand up from the work bench and hits a button on the wall, eliciting a loud mechanical noise to your left as the garage door starts to close. You watch with wide eyes as your chance to leave slowly vanishes inch by inch until it's gone completely, and yet no part of you itches to run, to escape. There's nothing to escape from, you realize. You want to be here. You want him to fuck you.
As the reality of your situation starts to settle, his grip around your wrists tightens once again. You sense him reaching up somewhere above you, and you suddenly feel the harsh texture of what feels like thickly braided rope wrapping around your wrists. The realization that he's restraining you sends another pool of release into your panties, another faint squeak past your lips.
"You gonna stay still for me?" he asks, voice dark and clearer now in the silence of his garage, no sounds of rain or cars to disrupt you, "Huh? You gonna be a good girl?"
"Yes," you breathe, nodding against the wood.
"Say it."
"I'm gonna stay still," you promise, "I'm gonna be a good girl."
He finishes knotting the rope around your wrists, tight and uncomfortable against your skin. He pushes his groin up against your ass again, brings his now free hands downward to reach through your cardigan and squeeze your breasts. Your nipples are hard beneath the soft cotton of your shirt, no bra between the layer of material and your bare skin; he tweaks them in his fingers and you shudder.
"These are mine," he whispers in your ear, scruff nuzzling against the side of your face, "These tits, this ass," he drops his hands from your breasts to squeeze your cheeks again, "and this pussy." His hand drops to the puffy shape of your lips beneath your thong and you whimper. "Understand?"
"Y-yes."
"Yes, what?"
You're not sure what he's asking for, what he wants you to say. You take a guess. "Yes, sir," you whisper, and you feel him smile against your ear. Bingo.
He doesn't bother to pull your tights down the rest of the way; instead, he rips them, pulling them apart in his big hands and reaching inside to curl his index finger around the thin strip of your thong. He pulls it - hard - and it rips from you with a rough tearing sound and a painful sting, eliciting a loud gasp from you which he rewards with another spank.
You feel his finger slip between your lips for a moment, gathering some of your release before he pulls it away. "Juicy fuckin' pussy," he mutters, and you hear the sound of his zipper coming undone, vulgar in the quiet room. You have no time to ask about protection, no time to even really process how quickly this is already happening, before you feel the warm tip of his cock pushing against your twitching hole. You gasp again, hands furling under the ropes.
"Shh," he quiets you, stilling for a second, "Don't squirm."
"Sorry," you whisper, tears pricking in your eyes, "I'm sorry."
"What're you sorry for?" he murmurs, feeding his cock to you in small increments, reveling in the noises falling past your lips. It's so fucking big, bigger than you'd anticipated - it feels like he's spearing you, splitting you in half, especially without much preparation. It stretches and burns, but the warmth of it, the way it pulses as it invades your body, just makes you gush even more. "Hm?" he continues, "What're you sorry for? You sorry for squirmin' or sorry you pissed me off?"
Your eyes roll back as he bottoms out, his pubic hair pressing coarsely against your pussy lips, heavy balls firm to your ass. You try to speak but it's hard to get the words out when you're so full, the wide tip of him pushing into your cervix.
"You a virgin?" he asks you then, voice changing for a moment, like for the briefest of seconds he's wondering whether he should have gone slower.
You shake your head quickly, "N-no," you manage to gasp out.
"Feel like a fuckin' virgin," he grunts, pulling out and then immediately slamming back inside. Your head bumps against the work bench, a groan falling from your mouth as he makes a home inside you. "Christ," he mutters, "Tight little thing. You feel me in your stomach, baby?"
You're not sure he wants you to answer, but it becomes clear when his hand slaps down on your ass cheek again and you cry out.
"Yes," you moan, then quickly amend, "Yes, sir."
"S'what happens when you come in here, actin' like a little slut," he suddenly reaches for your cardigan and yanks it off - it catches on your restrained hands and he simply rips it and tosses it to the floor, "But then again, you're not actin', are you? Huh? What's a slut like you doin' wearin' all these fuckin' layers?"
"I'm s-sorry," you repeat, already mourning the loss of your favorite sweater, now ripped to shreds at your feet.
"Sorry's not good enough, little girl," he breathes, thrusting into you again so hard that you yelp, cheek still pressed into the splintered wood of the work bench, "That's it, fuckin' take it."
He fucks you without any reservations, any inhibitions. Your legs shake and you can hear the slap of his hairy thighs against yours as he pounds into you relentlessly. You have no choice but to take it, the stretch of his huge cock becoming less painful the more he gives it to you over and over, the room full of the wet squelch of your pussy gripping him. He grabs your hips, fingertips digging into your bare flesh as he takes and takes; you wish you could see his face, wish you could see how he looks when he's fucking you, getting his pleasure. The thought makes you whine, tears streaming down your face as your body moves back and forth against the work bench.
It feels fucking amazing. You've never had a cock as big as his before, never been fucked so deep and so hard, like he doesn't care if he breaks you, makes you cry. He hasn't touched your clit and yet you already feel you could come from just this, just the relentless push and pull of his dick inside you. Unfortunately, just as soon as you feel your orgasm starting to build, he pulls out. Your brow furrows.
"Stand up," he orders, "and turn around."
You obey, relief overtaking you as soon as you're no longer bent at such an awkward angle. The moment you turn to face him you barely get a look at his face before he's reaching down and tearing your shirt in half - easily, like it's nothing. You don't even have time to wonder how the hell you're gonna get home with all your clothes ripped to shreds when his mouth is suddenly wrapped around your left nipple, and you whine at the sensation. You peer down at him, biting your lip and watching his wet lips suckle around the hard bud, beard scratching deliciously against your skin. Your hand aches to cup the back of his head but it's still pinned behind your back, tied tight beneath the rope.
"Fuck," you whimper, and his dark gaze flashes up to meet yours as he sucks, the hint of a smirk on his lips when he pulls away.
"Feels good, does it?" he asks, and seeing the words come out of his mouth is somehow more sinful than when you could only hear them, "You like bein' used?"
You nod almost immediately despite never having experienced anything like this in your life - though admittedly you've undeniably wanted to experience this, ached to have somebody take control, tell you what to do, make you do things. It's like you've somehow known subconsciously all summer that Joel Miller could be that person for you, despite never having said two words to him. It was just a feeling, an instinct, and that dream...
"Yeah?" he continues, and suddenly his hand comes up to cup your pussy, thumb finally pressing against your clit. You cry out, tears still trickling down your cheeks. "Said you were in college, right? You take any college dick up here? Be honest now."
You nod again, "Y-yes."
"How many?"
"I... I don't know," you breathe. It's the truth, and you can tell as soon as the words leave your mouth that it does something to him. He presses his thumb harder against your clit, two fingers slipping up inside of you.
"'Course you don't know," he murmurs, pushing them as deep inside as he can, making you whimper, "You wouldn't know, would you?"
Your thighs tighten together - squeezing his hand - and he just smirks again, curving his fingers and making you moan. Your lower back digs into the work bench as he stands, pushes you up against it and peers down into your eyes again with a hunger that's only getting worse. You assess his expression, the pout of his lips as he fucks you with his fingers, the focused lines creased into his forehead. So fucking handsome.
"You're not a good girl," he breathes, nose brushing yours, "Knew it from the day I saw you. You're just made for takin' cock. Am I right?"
"Yes," you whisper, nodding shakily and bumping your lips up toward his - he pulls away again and you can't help but feel disappointed, aching to feel his lips against yours.
"Tonight you're made to take my cock, that clear?" he continues, and you watch as his other hand travels downward to wrap around it - just out of your periphery. He's too close to you, crowded so much in your space that you know he won't like it if you break eye contact. You can tell by his arm movements that he's pumping himself at the same speed he's fucking you with his fingers, inhaling deeply, "I'm gonna ruin you, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not."
"Y-yes sir," you whisper, voice squeaking when he speeds up his fingers and pumps them in and out with fervor, thumb rubbing furiously against your clit. Yet again he brings you almost to the edge and then removes his hand completely, stepping back with a low chuckle when you whimper pathetically.
Your disappointment only lasts a moment because now you can see him, see the girthy length of him that's already been inside of you hanging out of his zipper, glistening with your slick. He's huge, tip dark and intrusive, beads of his own arousal dripping from the slit; your mouth waters. His eyes cast down to where you're looking and he smiles, dark and mocking.
"Never gonna see another dick like this, darlin'," he breathes, "So you better start showin' your appreciation." His eyes glint. "Kneel."
You're practically already on your way to kneeling before he says it, in awe of the sheer girth and shape of him. The second your bare knees hit the cold floor he's crowding you again, hand coming around to hold the back of your head.
"Open wide, baby," he murmurs.
Your jaw drops and he plunges inside your mouth quickly and seamlessly, making you gasp around his length as your eyes widen. You can't breathe, looking up at him with more tears already fogging your vision as he immediately slips into the depths of your throat with no hesitation. You gag, eyes bulging as you attempt to swallow around the intrusion, find your breath, but it's impossible.
"Yeah," he breathes, both of his hands cradling your face and holding you still as he lets his cock sit unmoving in your throat, "Yeah, that's it. That's what you're made for."
He only holds it there for a few seconds but by the time he pulls it out you're gasping for air, coughing and spluttering as tears stream relentlessly down your cheeks. He keeps cradling your face, tuts to himself as you try to get your breath back. The head of his cock bumps softly against your bottom lip.
"Not off to a great start, are we?" he murmurs, "Let's try again."
He pushes his cock past your lips again and you try your hardest not to gag, a little more prepared this time. The pulsing head of his cock situates itself firmly in your throat, the pubic hair at the base tickling your nose while his balls bounce against your chin. You look up at him with pleading eyes, watch as he stares down at you with nothing but malice in his expression, contempt. You're just a hole to him, nothing more.
He pulls out and lets you gasp another breath before he's shoving himself back in, hands moving back to hold your head firmly as he fucks your face. You don't move - you don't need to; he does all the work as he drags your head back and forth along his cock, hitting the back of your throat over and over again until you're gagging and practically sobbing for air. Your knees ache against the concrete floor and you know you'll have bruises tomorrow, know that you probably won't be able to swallow properly for a few days either. Somehow, you don't really care.
When he's gotten his fill he yanks himself out and allows you to catch your breath for a few seconds, throat constricting around nothing while you choke and gasp.
"Stand up," he orders, and even though you're still gasping for air you manage to bring yourself back up, legs shaking. Saliva drips down your chin, drooling from your mouth in long strands, but with your hands tied you can't make any attempt to clean yourself up - he probably wouldn't want you to anyway.
His wide palms are suddenly on your hips, and he picks you up and places you on top of the work bench with minimal effort, arms bulging. You're completely naked now save for your ripped tights while he's still fully clothed, dripping cock still peeking out past his zipper, covered in your saliva. He steps between your legs and pushes your thighs open, then slips inside of you once again in one short push, making you yelp.
"Oh, please," he grumbles, gripping your hips tightly and pulling your bare body taut against him, head hitting his chest, "We both know you can take it."
It's not like you have any other choice at this point. He fucks you harder than he had before, now that he has easier access, can pull you so firmly against him that his entire length is continuously swallowed up entirely by your dripping pussy. His nails dig into your skin as his cock fucks up against your cervix over and over, so relentless it's almost painful. It's overwhelming how huge he is, not just his cock but his body in general, the way he towers over you and watches your expressions as he takes what's now his.
"Poor little thing," he mumbles, bringing one of his hands up to thumb the tears on your face, "Never been so full, huh? It's okay, shhh," his finger finds your lips and pushes against them almost mockingly, like he's chastising you, "Shhh, this is what you asked for, remember? S'what you wanted." You shake your head but he just nods, "Yeah, it is. You wanted that cock and now you're gettin' it."
Suddenly you're being lifted from the workbench, carried in his embrace with his cock still buried deep inside. You cry out, wrists straining against the ropes, itching to wrap your arms around his neck and hold yourself up with more stability. His arms come up to stretch along the expanse of your back, holding you still and pulling you even closer. As if on instinct your legs bend upwards to wrap around his waist, curling around his lower back while he pistons inside of you without restraint, without mercy.
"Fuck," you almost scream, feeling the rough denim of his jeans scratching against your ass, the heaviness of his balls slapping against you over and over again, "Fuckfuckfuck!"
"Yeah, there she is, there's that little slut," he says, a smile spreading across his face, voice somehow calm despite the fact that he's pounding into you over and over, "Nothin' like gettin' fucked stupid to sort ya out, huh? Needed to be punished, didn't you, sweetheart?"
You don't answer, can't answer, eyes rolling back as he fucks you with abandon. Of course it's not a surprise when he lands a hard spank against your ass, grips your cheek tightly in his palm and growls roughly in your ear, "Answer me, little girl."
"Yes," you force yourself to gasp out, head tilting back, "Yes sir, yes."
"S'right," he mutters, and you suddenly feel the pads of his fingers against your clit, rubbing at an aggressively fast pace that sends depraved noises spitting past your lips, "Come on that cock, tighten up that little pussy even more for me, baby, come on."
It only takes seconds for him to make you come, your eyes rolling back as your body shakes and writhes in his grasp. He doesn't slow his movements, keeps fucking you deep and hard as your legs loosen at his waist and you flop like a ragdoll in his arms.
"Chokin' that dick," he murmurs, "Had so many cocks in this little hole and you're still the tightest thing I've fucked," his brow furrows as he watches your face, watches as your eyes flutter open and your jaw slackens, "And what about your other hole, baby?" You feel one of his fingers prod against your asshole, circle the rim as he continues to bounce you up and down, "Ever had a cock in there?"
You tense up a little in his embrace, eyes widening. At your reaction he slows his movements, still holding you upright and allowing you to just sit on his cock for a moment while he continues to prod your asshole, "I'll take that as a no," he mutters, "Think my cock'll fit up there?"
"It won't," you whisper immediately, shaking your head.
He assesses your expression, eyes trailing up and down your face calculatingly, like he's weighing the pros and cons. Your heart stutters in your chest and you feel that fear from earlier slowly begin to creep back into your psyche, hands shaking under the rope.
"I won't," he states, and relief floods through your body; you relax in his embrace, becoming aware again of his cock still buried deep inside you. He very carefully prods the tip of his index finger inside your asshole and your eyes go wide again, mouth opening in protest. "Yet," he amends, smiling coldly at you, "I won't yet. Not today."
He pulls his finger out and walks with you to the work bench again, places you down gentler than before and peers at you with something in his gaze that you can't place, a curiosity that wasn't there before. It's gone in an instant though, and then he's fucking into you again without warning, gripping tight to your hips and slamming back and forth until you see stars.
"You thought this'd be so funny, didn't you?" he growls, looking at you again with that detached contempt, black eyes locked with yours. He brings his hand down and starts rubbing your clit again, not caring that you only just came a moment ago. "Thought you'd come here, have your fun, and leave again. But it's not so funny anymore, is it? Huh? Is it funny?"
"N-no," you gasp out, overstimulated to the point of even more tears as you squirm and writhe on the work bench, pussy aching from the insistent way he's pounding you and the relentless rubbing of his fingers against your clit.
"S'the last time you show up here tellin' lies," he mutters, "Understand me? Any time you come into my house from now on you're gettin' fucked, got it?"
"Y-yes," you cry, hands futilely attempting to ball into fists behind your back, and he shakes his head.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir!" you scream it, and just as the words pass your lips he stills inside of you, cock twitching as he starts to come. Your eyes go wide, mouth dropping open as his hand sends you into another climax just as he reaches his. Your head falls against his chest and you hear him groan above you, feel the way his cock pulsates and throbs and spits his cum in long and heavy spurts. Your thighs twitch and you feel his hand at your back, pulling you in close as he cups the back of your head.
You stay like that for a moment without speaking, your heavy breaths the only sound in the garage other than the rain now pelting heavily against the door. You swear you can hear his heartbeat.
"Good little girl, warmin' my cock," he murmurs in your ear, and you're still catching your breath, eyes closed, sobs wracking from your throat repeatedly. "Full o'me, huh? You feel all that, baby?"
You can only nod against his chest, wrists still straining against the rope as your toes curl somewhere below you and your body continues to shake. His cum settles warmly deep inside and your eyes roll back a bit when he pushes in further, like he's trying to keep it inside for as long as he can.
"Guess I found a new little cum dumpster, huh?" he whispers, carding his fingers through your hair, "I'll have to say thank you to your friends, or -" he pauses thoughtfully for a moment, "maybe I'll just have to send 'em a little message back with you."
You pull your face back from his chest, peering up at him with tired confusion. He reaches down and pulls out one of the drawers of the work bench, coming back up with a sharpie. You watch with fluttering lashes, unable to stop him - and not really wanting to - as he uncaps the marker and pushes your hair out of the way to write something across your chest, the cold tip making you jolt slightly.
"Shh," he murmurs, "It's okay, I'll untie ya in a sec."
It doesn't take him very long to finish writing whatever it is on your skin, and then he's slowly pulling his cock out of you. You whimper at the loss, thighs twitching as you peer down and watch his softening length slip past your hole, followed by a steady stream of his cum. He quickly reaches up and pushes what he can back inside, thumbing it back in carefully while the reality of what's just happened really begins to settle. You just let a man in his fifties tie you up, use you, come inside you, and write on your chest.
"Can't have all that slippin' out yet," he mutters, "Now, what can we use?" His eyes dart up to the shelves above you and he reaches up to grab something; when his hand comes back down you see the pocket flashlight from earlier, see the slightly flared base and know almost immediately what he's planning on using it for.
For some reason - whatever reason it is that you stayed here after he gave you an out, whatever reason you really came here in the first place - you don't protest.
He brings the flashlight downwards and quickly removes his hand from your pussy to replace it with the wide end, slipping it inside with only minimal resistance. You whimper and he hushes you, brushing his nose against yours as he assesses his handiwork.
"That should do it," he murmurs, then peers back up at you and pushes some stray hair out of your face "You keep that in there 'til you get home, okay?" His eyes have softened a bit, looking more similar to the way they did when you first showed up - is this the real him? You honestly have no idea.
You don't say anything, just nod slowly, feeling the anxiety from earlier begin to sink in yet again. How are you going to get home when you have no clothes? How are you going to explain to your friends what happened? How can you tell them - or show them - what you let him do to you?
These questions are clearly none of his concern. You watch as he backs up and gestures for you to stand with him; you do, with beyond shaky legs and the cold metal of the flashlight between your thighs.
"Turn around," he orders.
You feel him untie the rope from your wrists, essentially ending your time here - whatever it even was. It somehow doesn't feel real. You let them hang limply at your sides, feeling embarrassment flood your cheeks as you turn back around to look at him. He's watching you with a smirk, arms crossed - his dick is back in his jeans. He looks no different than he had when you arrived.
"Now get the fuck out," he says, dark eyes glinting once again under the flickering fluorescents, "before I change my mind."
--
The air is still chilly. The road is still wet. But thankfully, there are no cars.
You don't know how you manage to get home without anyone seeing you - hunched over, naked in the darkness, avoiding the streetlights, trying to ignore the ache between your legs and the icy intrusiveness of the flashlight still lodged inside of you - but you do. Your palms are sweaty again, heart pounding at the thought of your friends coming to greet you at the door, for the shock and confusion and screaming to begin - but that doesn't happen.
The moment you're back in the house you pull a jacket down from the coat rack and cover yourself, tiptoeing past the living room and waiting to be accosted by the friends who put you in this situation to begin with. Instead, they're nowhere to be seen. You hear the faint echo of laughter from the kitchen, hear the sounds of glass clattering and a fridge being shut. It's like they've already forgotten you even left, like the game meant nothing, and they've already found something new to entertain them, something better.
As if your futile attempt at getting a kiss on the cheek from Joel Miller is already something lost in the past.
And, you think, as you shakily climb the stairs and creep into the bathroom, tear the jacket from your shoulders and stare at your bare chest in the bathroom mirror, see the dark permanent lines that read TRUTH OR DARE...
Maybe that's how it should be.
4K notes · View notes
clandestineloki · 6 months
Text
strawberry bliss (nsfw)
the part 2 to strawberry sweet ❤️
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summary: miguel loves using his strength on you ;)) and this little snippet of you guys watching a replay of his recent game shows just that, with some sweet lil fluff and playful banter :)) and then miguel fucks u so good he hits your factory reset and you go back to being a lil shy babie around him oh no :3
tw: he also finds out you have a daddy kink, mention of shane dawson (derogatory), mention of physical violence (bros a wrestler what did you expect), overstimulation, a bit of breeding kink, heavy praise kink, a bit of humiliation but on the sweet side
A/N: this takes place about a year or so after strawberry sweet, where miguel and reader are in an established relationship and make quippy cute banter with each other
A/N # 2: pls reblog so we can turn more ppl into whores 💖
💕 hope you enjoy! 
===
"BABYY THE COMMERCIALS ARE OVER!"
Miguel runs from the bathroom and meets you in the kitchen, you with the tray of strawberry drinks squealing as he tickles your waist.
"AHH IT'S GONNA SPILL!!!" you scream, and he backs off, smiling as you regain your balance.
You balance the smoothie cups on the tray and move forward, but Miguel blocks your way. 
"M'scuse me, I have a game to watch," you pout up at him, but he doesn't budge.
"Mister, my boyfriend will be very angry if he finds out I'm late to the game >:( "
"Aww, such a shame, pretty girl... can't I just get a little kiss?"
"Let me through!"
"Can't, hermosa, you gotta say the password right up against my lips~ the password is mwah mwah mwah i love you miguel you're so handsome miguel~"
"You're cheesy," you roll your eyes, and he laughs as you set the tray down in front of the bed facing the TV. "I want the old Miguel back, he was cute and he had actual rizz."
He slumps against the couch. "The Miguel that was a total pervert over your old smoothie girl uniform?"
"Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about the uniform!" You giggle. "I hated it. Did you know on my first day they gave me a size too small and they had the audacity to try and gaslight me by saying I got fat?"
"Fucking weirdos," he pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest." Glad I got you out of that mess, mm?"
"It was just one mess into another, Mig, you made me your sugar baby," you tease, and his face scrunches up.
"Bebita, I may be rich but I'm not your sugar daddy. I'm just two years older than you."
"But think about it, I was sixteen when you were eighteen! Like- that's two years but the maturity difference is huge! That's creepy, Miguel. You wanna go to jail?"
"Ay, por dios. We're in our twenties, we met in our twenties. End of discussion. And I've already been to jail. Twice."
"What?!"
"Ay! ay! end of discussion. The match is starting," he pinches your nose then turns to watch the TV just as the host's opening spiel ends. Miguel feels you sit up in his grip when the crowds on the TV cheer as he comes up on screen, flashing a grin to the audience.
"Ew, who's that?" you mumble, cheeks stuffed with popcorn and Miguel snorts, rolling his eyes.
"That's me, your boyfriend, the guy who's gonna absolutely obliterate downgraded Shane Dawson in about..." he snaps his fingers just as his opponent comes out on screen. "Fifty-eight seconds."
"I really don't see the resemblance, Miggy, you're just being a bully."
"Y'know," he pulls you closer, absentmindedly kissing your neck as he feels you squirm in his hold. "I don't get how you let the physical violence slide but I compare some white guy to Shane Dawson and you call me a bully."
Your face heats up a little, and you turn away, mumbling shyly. "C-cause you look really badass when you throw them around like that... "
"Mmm?" he teases, nuzzling his nose in your neck. "I do?"
He feels you freeze up and chuckles, his hands trailing down to your thighs.
"Y-yeah," you whisper... "a bit..."
"Oh, and you like how strong I am, hmm? Is that what it is?"
It's cute how you shake your head and brush his hands away to turn up the volume on the TV, when he just goes right back to kneading your breasts and riling you up.
"Querida, you gotta answer me, y'know I can't understand you when you mumble like that~"
"What was the question?" you mumble, looking up at him with what he knows for sure are the most adorable bunny eyes he's ever fucking seen.
"I said," he nibbles down on your ear with a little growl, "do you get off like a cute little bunny when I show off? Is my baby that kinky~?"
" I-I... maybe..." you twitch as his fingers toy with your nipples. "Miggy, please..."
"Please what baby? Please stop or please give me more?" 
Miguel knows the answer, obviously. It's just that he can't get over the fact that he landed the prettiest girl with the cutest stutter when she's nervous.
"Please..." you whisper.
He chuckles against your ear, leaning in and lowering his voice just the way he knows you like it, especially when he's buried all the way inside you.
"Please what."
The tiniest gasp comes out of your lips. "Please... please f-fuck me... please?" 
Before you can even finish, you're over his shoulder and on the bed as he kisses everywhere on your face, growling at the inconvenience of the fact that he cant hold you still and fondle your chest at the same time.
"M-Miguel..." you whimper, twitching in sensitivity. "You're always teasing me..."
"Oh?" he mocks you, flipping you over on your stomach and gripping your hips, leaning in real slow to drawl darkly in your ear. "I'm the tease here? When you're shaking your little ass all over me? You rile me up like this and expect me not to fuck you the way you deserve? hmm?"
"S-Sorry..." you mumble, and Miguel laughs breathily, having the time of his life making you all shy and embarrassed.
"S'okay, baby, you just gotta make up for it, yeah?"
With a playful swat to your ass, he rips off your shorts and his fingers tease your folds through your panties.
"Miguel..."
"Yes...?" he kisses the arch in your back, smirking when your thighs tremble.
"Please hurry..." you gasp.
"Don't worry baby, you'll be asking me to slow down real soon~" 
===
His favorite sight of all time is you underneath him, with that blissed out look on your face and your chest heaving as he fucks every choked breath out of those pretty lips.
"Fuck, bebita," he whispers. "Creaming all over my fingers like the cute little plaything you are?"
You whimper, closing your thighs shakily, but his free hand just forces your legs apart and he curls his two fingers in you, tickling your pussy and making his hand even wetter.
"Hmm? What did you say?" Miguel mumbles close to your ear, and makes sure that at the precise moment you try to speak he speeds up his fingers, making your words melt away in warm red pleasure as more juices coat his fingers.
"S'too much..."
"Bebita, you asked for this," he whispers darkly. "We're not even halfway done."
You mewl out his name and turn your head to the side. He takes it as an opportunity to bite down on your neck and relish in the high-pitched pleasure drunk squeal that forces out of you as your little pussy sucks in his fingers.
"Shit. I can't take it anymore," he grumbles, his fingers moving even faster as he leans closer, forcing you flat against the bedsheets as you moan and cream all over his fingers like a cute little bunny, just too pleasure-drunk to utter even a word.
"Come for me baby," Miguel almost begs. "Come for me so I can fuck you the way I know you want me too, okay?"
You gasp at his dirty talk, and he laughs at the fact that you never stop getting shy when he says these things.
Or when your little pussy makes those wet noises when you're really really close.
"Fuck you're so cute," Miguel grins, licking the tears falling from your hazy eyes. "So sweet, letting me do whatever I want with you~ Come for me, gatita, you know you want to~"
Your moans make him grin and he thumbs at your sensitive little bud. His teasing sends you over the edge and you gasp and whimper, clinging onto him as he helps you through your third orgasm.
When you come down from it, Miguel is smirking down at you, and licking his fingers clean of your juices, humming lowly as his tongue traces his long fingers sensually.
"Wanna taste it right off your pretty pussy baby," he whispers, making you blush. "But I'll save that for later~"
He really means he'll save it for when you're too fucked out to close your pretty legs around his head.
Miguel kisses your hips as he flips you over again, tracing his rough hands over your ass and thighs, making you shiver and mumble something he almost can't hear.
"Daddy..."
His wandering hands freeze.
He grins.
"What was that?" he teases.
Your breath stutters.
"What- I-"
He leans in dangerously close, pinning you down on the bed with your ass right against his throbbing hard cock.
"What did you just call me?" he drawls, and you whimper.
"I-I called you Daddy," you bury your head in the pillows. "S-Sorry... if it makes you uncomfortable-"
Miguel thrusts his hips forward, sinking halfway into your wet, warm little cunt. The squelching of your little hole is nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated, sinful noise of pleasure that leaves your lips.
"Oh," Miguel groans. "That made me reallyfuckin' uncomfortable alright."
Your thighs shake as he sinks in really really slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him stretch you out.
"Say it again."
You gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "It's embarrassing..."
"Fuck, you really have to do all these things that make you so lovable, huh?" He groans, pulling your wrists and holding your arms behind your back. "Got the cutest little face, the cutest little pussy, and you always got these little kinks that make you so cute~"
He starts moving his hips, making you slur out his name and clench around him.
"My cute little milkshake girl, doing all these cute things for me and no one else," he whispers, and you nod helplessly,
Miguel runs his hands up and down your waist, making you sigh and whimper into the pillows.
"Wanna repeat what you said? No one's around, baby, just you and me. No need to be shy~"
"Daddy..."
"Fuck, you really are such the perfect little cutie, aren't you?" Miguel teases, pounding you harder.
It's music to his ears when you finally get to that stage of it, just uncontrollably whimpering and moaning and making all these noises of pleasure as you let him do whatever he wants to you.
"C'mon, say it again, another time won't hurt~"
"Such a t-tease..." you whine, and he chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck.
"Sorry, baby, not my fault you're so fucking adorable," he groans, shuddering when you clench down on him. "Daddy's close, baby, wanna come with me? Feel good together, hmm? Can you even understand me you dumb little baby?"
Miguel coos as you take in high-pitched breaths and gasps. Your tiny fists clench the sheets shakily, and your thighs thump helplessly with every thrust of his hips.
"Come back to me, baby," he whispers as his thrusts get sloppier. "Help me out one list time, kay? Wanna be my good girl?"
"Mhm..."
"Ah," he laughs. "Daddy broke his pretty baby so bad? Sorry, gatita, you just feel too good. Let's come together, okay? I'll get us there, baby~"
You whimper loudly one last time, creaming helplessly around his cock. Miguel pins your back down onto the bed, leaning in and growling right against your ear as his orgasm takes over as well, making sure you take every bit of his cum inside you.
The twitching of your thighs finally slows as Miguel pulls out, turning you onto your back and lightly running his hands up your thighs, waist, and breasts, kneading them softly and eliciting a whine from your lips.
"So sensitive," he pinches your nipple, making you gasp. "But I'll keep my hands to myself... for now."
You blush at those words, nuzzling into his neck as he chuckles at your bashfulness.
"Didn't know my good little girl had a Daddy kink. So cute," he whispers. "Got the sweetest little baby all to myself~."
Miguel brushes his lips against yours, smiling when he tastes a hint of strawberry,
His second favorite sweet thing in the goddamn world.
"Oh, baby~" he coos. "You felt so fucking good. Can we go again, gatita?"
You whimper, twitching helplessly, and blushing at the feeling of his fingers toying with the cum trickling down your thighs.
But you don't say no.
4K notes · View notes
qcomicsy · 1 year
Text
Phrases I bet were said on the Wayne Manor without context Part ll
Tim: You know, everytime we have to say "technically it's not murder" it doesn't sound as great as we hope it so.
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Dick, on the living room:
Duke, first time alone with him: So... Discowing, huh.
Dick: Alright-
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Alfred, very tired: I suppose I shouldn't ask about the 6'0 orange lady flying of your window this morning?
17 year old Dick Grayson: I'd really hope you not.
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Steph: I'm JUST SAYING, that IF "hypothetically" WE both showed up on patrol wearing my cape, hood down and then lifted up the hood just to show matching RedHood™ helmets behind it we could both have the joy to see penguin's henchmen pissing on their pants.
Jason putting his book down: I'm listening.
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Dick: Just- Just be nice about it, for once in your life okay?
Bruce: Hn. (lying)
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Bruce: I'd like to remind all of you that Diana has international political immunity.
Dick: The fuck you mean by that????
Bruce: No reason. Just saying. In case we all forgot.
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Alfred: We are all aware that Master Bruce isn't fond of violence *loads glock*.
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Bruce: Be nice to your brother
Jason: I'm not even nice to you.
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Jason, 10 years old talking about Dick to his school friend: Yeah, he just comes here, eat all our food, screams at Bruce for 45 minutes and goes away.
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Tim, 15 years old, also talking about Dick to his school friend: He just comes here-
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Bruce, very, very tired: So... a boat.
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Tim: Do it.
Jason, cleaning his gun: Dude what the fuck.
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Tim, 7 nights awake in a roll: Do you think if I just scream loud enough Clark will come here and put me out of my misery.
Dick as Batman, 12 nights awake in a roll: He won't.
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Dick putting Batman's suit: He couldn't at least had the DECENCY of cleaning- muffled cursing noises*
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Harley Quinn at 3 am: I'll pay you fifty bucks if you pretend you never saw me here
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Dick, 17 years old: The fuck are you doing here.
Talia, with a shitty ass grin showing the engagement ring on her finger: I live here.
Dick:
Bruce: Listen-
5K notes · View notes
anton-luvr · 5 months
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# WHEN A GIRL TRIES TO FLIRT WITH THEM ; 7riize.
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⚝ bf!riize x gn!reader | fluff...? or crack idk | bf au ⚝ note ; another reaction!! live laugh love riize + reqs are CLOSED
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# SHOTARO. - very respectful and civil. will drop her with a 'oh sorry, i'm taken!' and offer an awkward smile before going back to whatever he was doing. if she kept insisting and wouldn't leave him alone, he'd just walk out of the party and go home to you. he'd rather spend time with the love of his life than being bothered by some random girlie.
# EUNSEOK. - he'll live up to his nickname of silver stone. straight up ignores her and doesn't even bother to spare a glance, just focused on talking with his friends and having a good time with drinks. if she was annoying, he'd throw a nasty side eye and a scoff at her before completely turning away.
# SUNGCHAN. - i just know that he'll go 'oh sorry, no english!!' in the most heavy korean accent ever. keeps shaking his head no and does shooing motions with his hands even though he can perfectly understand what the girl is saying. if by some unfortunate chance that she knows korean too, sungchan will create some sort of language of his own and start rambling gibberish to confuse her away. he proudly calls it 'sungchanese' >:)
# WONBIN. - bro will pull out every weird dance move made known to man. i'm talking about moving around like a chicken dancing on lava while being in space. he'll even swing air punches as a dance move to startle the girl off. not the most peaceful method to reject a girl, but wonbin will do what he needs to do !!
# SEUNGHAN. - he's prepared for this. the moment a random girl saunters up to him all flirty, he'll pull up the powerpoint he made of you. he'll say 'hi! here's my partner!' and proceed to stick the fifty slides long powerpoint in the girl's face, each slide being a pic of you and little notes of his favorite thing about you. even after the girl leaves, he'll continue going through the powerpoint on his own because you're just so pretty <3
# SOHEE. - immediately backs away, hitting her with the 'woah chill bro, i'm taken' while showing off the promise ring you got for each other. if that's not enough for her to go away, sohee won't hesitate to start barking. he knows he looks like a madman, but hey - desperate times call for desperate measures. when she's finally scared off, he'll grin proudly at his laughing friends and tell you all about it when he gets home.
# ANTON. - very uncomfortable. he won't even know what to say or do, so he calls you and asks for help. he listens when you tell him to put you on speakerphone, eyes widening when you immediately obliterate the girl and scream at her to back off. anton can't help but blush as he keeps replaying your shouted 'that's my man' and 'he's all mine' in his head, all giggly and flustered when he comes home and into your arms.
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© anton-luvr, 2023.
taglist: @wonbons (drop an ask to be added to my taglist!)
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ellastone-olsen · 2 months
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The Legend of Sleepy Valley - Wanda Maximoff (part 1)
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★Pairing: Vampire!Wanda Maximoff x f!reader
Summary: no one had ever seen the family members living in the huge estate nearby. maybe this is not just the case and they are hiding something. legends surround this place and soon you will find out for yourself where is the truth and where is the lies. this is the first time a vampire will not kill her victim.
★Warnings: NSFW 18+ (in future parts), dark au, blood, stalking, mentions of murders, nightmares, slowburn
★Word count: 2.6k
★AN: I decided to re-read Dracula and an idea came to me. this is my first series fic and the first part is preparation for the most interesting things. maybe there will be one or two more parts, I don’t know how much my imagination will suffice.
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The small village of less than one hundred fifty people could not boast of special wealth, but as they say, human blood is not water, this is the true wealth that these people had. If only they knew about it.
Away from the crowd of dilapidated houses stood the old estate of the Maximoff family, whose history dates back to ancient times. No one could say exactly how long ago they settled, but every generation of people who lived here knew who lived in the ancient “castle” as the locals called it. Family members did not often catch the eye of the village residents, preferring a secluded life without “good neighbors” nearby. All you knew about them was information gleaned from the legends that parents told their children, passing on these terrible stories from generation to generation.
One of them said that it was the Maximoff family that was behind the disappearance and fatal diseases of ordinary peasants who lived in these parts. If someone’s livestock died, it means that people’s turn will soon come. No one could explain exactly how they were involved in this, which is why they were legends. Some said that all the troubles began with the arrival of the first ancestor - Konstantin Maximoff. As soon as this man set foot on the dead, poor soil of these regions, terrible things began to happen.
But who are you to believe in stupid old legends? Now is not the time when people rely on fairy tales. This was the age of computer technology and the Internet, so you could read horror stories on Google. It’s a shame that the stories turned out to be true, what’s even worse is that you learned this from your own experience.
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“Why did you kill me? Why did you kill me?" You looked in horror at the doorway in which stood a man... no, a child, judging by his height, about 7 years old, but his face was not visible. Only glowing beady pupils and a dark silhouette, that’s what you could make out in the pitch darkness of the tiny room. “I didn’t do it, I didn’t kill you.” You tried to move, but it was all in vain. The body froze like a heavy marble stone. The brain was already awake, but the limbs were stuck to the mattress of the bed. Heart beat out a fast, ragged rhythm, threatening to jump out through ribs. No one would come to the rescue, you knew. “Why why did you kill me.” The hallucination repeated these words like a prayer in the temple of the Lord God, to which you were ready to go any minute. What to do, what to do, probably the same as always. Scream.
An eardrum-breaking screech escaped from your chest, maybe someone will hear it? But absolutely everything that happened was only in your head. Together with the scream, flashing flashes began to hit eyes, a good sign that the method was working. If anyone had heard the screeching, they would probably have gone deaf.
You suddenly sit up in bed, breathing as if you had run a marathon and won. It was all over, but the fear remained. Sleep paralysis was never limited only to the state of paralysis itself; even after them, anxiety was with you, sticking to the subcortex of consciousness like soft molasses. You turned on the light in the room and picked up the phone. The clock showed 3:42 am, if you are lucky, within an hour you will fall asleep again. Your finger clicked on the messenger icon and you entered a chat created specifically for communication between people living in your village and surrounding area.
Your eyes quickly scanned hundreds of messages and ads for old junk when photos of the scene caught your attention. It was talking about another cattle killing of one of your neighbors. People, as always, wrote that these were wolves or pumas, which often live in these parts. At least the claw marks were definitely not left by a human. A terrible bloody mess, what more can you say. Soon panic will sweep the village again, because everyone knows that this will be followed by the death of one of the residents. Damn it, sitting at home all day long again was the first thing your sleepy brain generated. Well, let it be, but you will get some sleep for the first time in the last couple of months.
The phone slowly fell from your hand onto the soft, fresh sheets and your lead-filled eyelids fell into your eyes. Finally the long-awaited dream. You saw your past, but more exaggerated. Winter frost, a scarf that covers half of your face and you don’t know where to go. The picture changed and you found yourself on the red carpet, walking towards the door at the end of a hundred-meter corridor. There are white walls and camera flashes all around. You didn't know where you were going, but it seemed like a good place. The door opened revealing a round room with a bunch of people and animals. A ginger cat similar to yours came up to you and you extended your hand to pet him, but the animal grabbed you with its teeth, biting over and over again. The claws passed along your forearm, leaving red droplets of blood, the wonderful dream again became a nightmare and you opened your eyes.
Your room again. The lights were off. It's strange, you didn't seem to turn it off. Perhaps mom woke up and walked past the room. Your gaze could not focus on anything, you looked around, blinked a couple of times and looked into the doorway. Someone was standing there again. A woman with long hair, you would think it was your mother, but she had short shoulder length hair. Again, hallucination is the first thing that came to your mind. You tried to bend your leg to make sure that this was the case, but the movement was easy and you sat down in fear. The figure was still standing in place and eyes accustomed to the darkness could discern clothing in the form of a knee-length dress, boots and a jacket, it seems? The head of the unknown woman in your room tilted to the side, she was also looking at you. She studied, as if deciding what to do next. It seemed that being noticed was not part of her plans.
"Who are you?" the vocal cords did not produce anything louder than a whisper. And only now did you notice a strange pain in your hand, in the same place where the cat scratched you in your sleep. You grabbed the forearm of your left hand, feeling the moisture under your palm and lifted it to get a better look. You couldn’t see anything in the darkness and you licked your palm to feel the metallic taste. Liquid scarlet blood was streaked and still leaking from the scratches, not deep enough to leave scars.
In response to your action, the stranger loudly sniffed air and seemed to... growl. But people don't know how to make SUCH sounds. “Did you do this?” you extended your palm to her, but instead of answering, the dark figure disappeared outside your bedroom. You wanted to catch up with her, but got tangled in the blanket and fell to the floor, cursing under your breath. When you went into the common room, no one was there anymore. Not a trace of anyone else's presence.
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The morning greeted with the rays of the sun, which lay softly on your face. The smell of homemade pancakes wafted from the kitchen, the recently returned birds chirped on the tree branches as if they were wound up.
The phone was still lying next to you and the clock on the screen showed noon. Among hundreds of notifications overnight, you found a message from your friend Lily, which read: “I’ll pick you up at one o’clock in the afternoon.” Well, at least you had an hour to get ready. Surely, after those messages about the murder, your parents would lock you at home, and you wanted to have time to take a walk in the first days of spring.
While you were sitting in the kitchen and looking at one point, while finishing breakfast, your thoughts returned to this night. There was no doubt that the first thing that happened to you was sleep paralysis, but what happened then? How could someone sneak into your family home so silently and without a trace, why did this woman need to watch you, and even more so... You could write off the incident as another nightmare, but your forearm still stung. Raising your hand, you saw scratches that were already covered with a blood crust and were in the process of healing. Oh no, it wasn’t definitely a hallucination. When you got out of bed, the first thing you did was check your room for missing valuables, but everything was there. Apparently the only thing this strange woman touched was you. Today before going to bed you need to check all the locks in the house, all the windows and make an impregnable fortress out of it.
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“Are you sure you want to go there?” The question hung in the warm spring air. Your friend was dragging you by the hand to the so-called Sleepy Valley. The children of your village were not allowed to go there, firstly because flocks of sheep usually grazed there, and secondly...
“Y/N, do you know why this place is called that way?.” Of the two of you, you knew more about local folklore, so you easily found the desired legend in the memory archives. The legend of the Sleepy Valley.
“My mother told me that there were always sheep grazing there, but one day a shepherd came into the valley and the whole flock was lying on the grass. It looked like someone had thrown cotton balls around. It looked as if the animals were simply asleep, but when the man approached one of the sheep, he realized that it was dead. They were all dead. Some maniac or animal ripped out the throats of the poor animals. This is where the name comes from.” You finished the story and were walking through the wild forest when you saw an opening. Perhaps there were such stories around this place, but there was no other place for walking cattle in the vicinity.
As the tall trees retreated, a majestic field stretched around, with a herd of fluffy white sheep as usual. Lily pulled you by the arms a little away from the animals to sit on the fresh green grass looking up at the sky. The two of you just lay there and listened to the chirping of tits, voluminous white clouds rushed above you, forming bizarre shapes. Life seemed unreal at that moment.
Only in the forest from where you came out it was watching you. Red eyes scanned everything that was happening, and acute inhuman hearing caught your conversation even at a distance of twenty meters. Your night visitor did not miss the chance to follow the first person whom she, for some reason unknown to her, did not kill during close contact. Wanda was patient, even too patient, and something about you caught her attention that night. Maybe your peace of mind or... No, it’s too early to think about that. In any case, she spent the rest of the night waiting for you to wake up and leave the house.
For so many years that she lived on this sinful earth, the daughter of the Maximoff family could tell a lot from a person’s blood. She drank dozens of people dry and each was unique in their own way, from the first sips one could understand what kind of life a person lived and what it was like, blood for her was a thing in which the essence of human nature was hidden. None of her victims had aroused an iota of interest or compassion in her, until that day.
Once every few months, Wanda’s family could afford such a delicacy as a few people from the village for whom no one would grieve. She liked to stretch out the pleasure and start with cattle, leaving human lives for dessert. Then she decided to watch the future victims and find the most tasty morsel in her opinion; in the end, her choice fell on a young beautiful girl like you. When life is in full swing, taking it away is many times more pleasant and sweeter.
That night, her plans included killing you, drinking to the last drop like everyone else before, but standing right next to you, she froze. Something was wrong. Why were your eyes open but you didn't move? She heard your heart that was ready to jump out, but it was not because of her. It seemed like you saw something that she didn’t see and she became curious. The woman walked into the darkness of the room, to the farthest corner, and watched. So you woke up, jumped out of bed and nervously turned on the light. Wanda sensed your fear, but did not understand what it was connected with.
Waiting for you to fall back into the world of dreams, she turned off the light that was blinding her and came closer, running her sharp nails along your arm to collect a small portion of blood for testing. When the first drops touched her tongue, her pupils dilated, covering the irises of the vampire's red eyes. The blood was saturated with adrenaline and was even sweeter than she expected and your personal taste. There was something about it that she couldn't place, something familiar. She took a closer look at your calm face, noticing what a cute little thing you were in her hands. No, killing you was too great a loss, she turned on her heels to hide as quietly as she appeared, but a rustling was heard behind her.
Wanda stood in the doorway and watched as you woke up for the second time that night. It’s surprising how you didn’t notice her right away, but when she saw your wet, rough tongue running over your palm, licking the scarlet substance, something clicked in her. “Did you do this?” your voice, hoarse from sleep, has long since become a spring deep inside her being. She needed to leave right now if she didn't want to kill you or take you by force.
The woman silently left the house and sat down nearby in the wild raspberry bushes. "She was beautiful, but who the hell was that?" Thoughts were heard in her head, but they were not hers. She heard your thoughts and her eyes widened, remembering what her stepmother told her many decades ago. If her memory did not deceive her, and it did not deceive her, then when sampling a person’s blood, if they arent killed, she will be able to hear all the thoughts associated with her. Then, being a recently converted vampire, Wanda did not attach any importance to this, because she did not think that something would happen that she would not complete the job. Apparently this was very arrogant on her part.
But since this has happened, why not entertain yourself for the first time in the last two hundred and ninety-seven years. From that moment on, she had her own personal human.
Part 2?
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personasintro · 6 months
Text
Mutual Help | #07
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𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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Exactly two days have passed since you and Jungkook had the whole conversation about how your plan is going to work out, settling a slightly relieved feeling in your chest. It went well, less embarrassing than you thought it'd be. But now you think about it, it wasn't embarrassing at all.
Having no actual schedule made things much more at ease and natural. Jungkook's messages popped on your screen every now and then, even during your work time which caused a muffled giggle to escape your mouth whenever he sent you one of his ridiculous memes. With no actual seeing him, it was the only sort of communication you both had.
That was until he asked about the movie night – something you used to do from time to time.
It brings a weird nostalgia, remembering all those nights you've spent watching horror movies that Jungkook insisted on watching so bad, leaving you screaming, jumping and gasping at every scene in fear. You knew some part of him did it on purpose, knowing you'd have all those reactions and he always had so much fun with that. Snickering and laughing his lungs out, even when you glared at him and smacked him, annoyed by all the teasing and mocking.
But this time, it's different. When Jungkook tells you he has a movie prepared, you thought it'd be just some stupid horror movie or something you've watched hundreds of times, but it's still fun to watch. Like Harry Potter or Fast and Furious movies. However, Jungkook's sly smirk appears on his face as soon as a naked woman appears on the screen.
It's an erotic movie, giving you Fifty Shades of Grey vibes, while Jungkook looks like he's enjoying it more than you do.
"It's a great way for you to find out what you might like." he explains after a couple of minutes, cutting off the loud moaning boosting from the speakers.
His neighbours probably think he's fucking someone here.
Apparently, it's none of his concern, when he's watching the movie with all his attention. A soft snort leaves your mouth, finding it amusing how quickly he shut up as soon as a naked woman appeared on the screen.
"Do you find her attractive?" you ask him after a while, cocking your head to the side as you observe the woman's body, before you pop some more popcorn into your mouth.
She's not ugly, but not overly pretty like they usually cast such a actress. This one looks casual, almost discreet but still holds some kind of confidence.
He mimics your previous action, munching on the salty popcorn as he studies the current scene.
"I mean... she's not ugly." he comments, although doesn't show any more effort to dive into it more.
"Her boobs are small." you say casually.
He looks at you, a grin plastered on his lips as if he finds your comment funny. "Are they?" he asks amusingly, giving you a glance before he looks back to the movie.
The conversation ends there, the confronting scene catching both of your attention as you find yourself to be invested in the actual plot. You're intrigued, because even though there are a fair amount of sex scenes, it doesn't seem to be all about sex which pleasantly surprises you. That's until the two main characters are back on screen, passionately kissing before he decides to punish her. Two minutes later, a spanking sound resounds in the living room as you watch with slightly widened eyes the scene unfolding in front of you. He slaps her naked ass, a camera catching his darkened eyes that are set on her.
It's no news that your sexual experience isn't as wide as you hope it would be. Else you wouldn't be in this kind of position – playing Jungkook's fake girlfriend in exchange for him fulfilling your secret and undiscovered desires.
Your ex never showed any interest in the whole BDSM thing and neither did you. Being called slut, bitch and having someone degrade you, has never occurred to you. It's not something you'd probably enjoy. Although, BDSM is much more than that, probably involving a lot more stuff that you can think about. But watching this movie, which revolves around it, you don't find it uncomfortable.
You're rather intrigued with the way he spanks her ass – her moans which are obviously fake and played, mixing with spanking sounds. It makes you wonder if you'd like to be spanked. The scene in front of you doesn't make you wet or horny, but the thought of someone doing that to you is still enough to spark an interest inside of you.
"What are you thinking?" Jungkook speaks up, his brows slightly pinched together just to show curiosity and confusion on his face.
You must've shown way more interest on your face than you thought, considering he noticed it. But then, Jungkook has always seen right through you.
"Nah, I was just wondering.." you trail off, focusing your eyes on the screen as you unconsciously bite onto your lower lip.
"About what?"
"I don't know. I've never been spanked before. I'm wondering if it's, y'know, my thing or something." you mutter, disappointed when the scene cuts to a different one, much less explicit.
It's quiet for a couple of seconds, your mind already set on the plot of the movie but Jungkook is the one who's staring ahead with a puzzled look. You don't notice it, not until he speaks up again.
"You wanna try it?"
Not expecting it, you almost choke on your spit, straightening yourself as you peer at him with widened eyes. Did you hear him right? Is he joking? But when you notice his neutral, or more like curious gaze, you know he's for real. A smirk curves on your lips, your body turning to Jungkook to take a better look at him.
"Are you offering to spank me, Kook?"
"I mean... yeah. I guess I am." he shrugs carelessly and you take that time to properly look at him.
He's wearing one of his usual comfy outfits consisting of loose sweatpants and black oversized shirt. You've seen him wearing it more times than his working attire, but he looks fucking good. There's no lie in that and you're sure Jeongguk is very well aware of his attractiveness.
"I'm in but what reason is there to spank me for? Me drinking your banana milk?" you snort, laughing at the way he looks offended for a second at the mention of his precious banana milk.
The tantrum he threw a few months back, the one you remember very clearly, because he made sure he gives you a proper punishment for drinking his stupid banana milk that he loves so much. It was funny, until he started to tickle you to the point there were tears running down your cheeks and you were very close to peeing yourself.
One thing Jungkook doesn't like is you laughing straight into his face, making fun of him. But you can't help it and continue to laugh at his sudden expression, jaw locked into its place as he stares at you with dark eyes. It all happens quickly, his hands on your hips pulling you closer to him in a flash. His hands are rough on your skin, leaving prints on it while he makes sure he holds you securely. He bends you over his knee, the cold air hitting the back of your exposed thighs as you grab onto the first thing your hands can reach – his ankle and the edge of the couch.
Unfortunately, you chose to wear one of your pajamas shorts that you forgot here months ago, wanting to wear something more comfortable. Plus, Jungkook's air conditioning is broken, so it's hotter inside than usual. It all makes it even more awkward in this situation. He has seen you in your towel before, but this time it's different. Almost all of your ass is exposed to his dark eyes and you're about to look at him, slowly lifting up yourself just to be pushed back. His knee digs into your lower stomach but you don't mind it that much.
"I'm sick of you making fun of me." he spits, palming your ass through the cotton material of your shorts that makes your breath hitch.
Fuck. Since when are his hands so comfortable?
You're not sure whether he talks about the mention of banana milk or that you've laughed into his face again – but you can't focus on that for too long, not when his hand feels so good against your ass.
Nobody has ever been so rough with you and he barely did anything. Still, it's enough to make your heart jump every time he swiftly moves his hand. Has he ever done this before?
"I'm sorry." you speak up, not recognizing your voice at all. It's so fragile, flattering into the space of your living room. It doesn't sound like you at all.
"Are you?" he dryly chuckles, scoffing right after as he squeezes your ass cheek.
God, it feels so good. He barely started and you already feel yourself getting wet. No, you're wet.
"Oh, bunny, you're about to be sorry."
This is not the Jeon Jungkook that you know. He's showing you a whole new side of him. His voice is dark, filled with dominance and lust, leaving you breathless.
A shiver runs down your spine, anticipating every move he makes with his big hand as he keeps palming the soft flesh of your ass. He plays with the hem of your shorts, before he asks you if he can take it down. Automatically a 'yes' jumps out of you, his amused chuckle following right after as you hide your flush cheeks. Thank God, he can't see you right now.
He doesn't take them entirely, enough to expose your perky ass cheeks to him. You hear him silently curse, admiring your untouched ass that's about to be spanked. He can perfectly picture his red hand prints all over it and it takes him a minute to shake out of his daze. Out of nowhere, he spanks your ass, not too hard though. You can barely register it, but it's enough to make your heart jump from the sudden contact. You understand that he only tested the waters, silently watching your reaction.
But when you shift yourself, pushing your ass up, it's all he needs. It's a silent plea for him to continue, so he doesn't waste any time asking you since you patiently wait for his next move.
"If you wanna stop, just tell me," he speaks up, his tone gentle all of a sudden causing the corner of your mouth to twitch in amusement.
Leaning up, you turn around your head just enough to look at him, tilting your brow. "Okay, bunny."
You just wanted to tease him, using his own choice of words or more accurately the pet name he gave you, but it turns out it wasn't a good idea. Before you can properly lean back, your back arches as soon as his hand is met with your ass cheek, slapping your flesh out of nowhere. The smack sound rings in your ears as you shut your eyes automatically, a surprise gasp leaving your mouth.
"I wish I could ruin you for that smart mouth of yours," he says through his gritted teeth, palming your ass before he smacks the other cheek with the same intensity.
It's almost embarrassing how quickly he got you wet. The wetness between your legs causes you to rub your thighs together. It could be mistaken as your reaction to cope with the new feeling, but it's a completely different story. You're rubbing your thighs together to release some of the build up lust in the pit of your stomach and between your legs. If he knows what you're doing, he doesn't voice it out.
"Ruin me, Kook." you whisper, so silent that you think he didn't hear you, but he did when his next words are like the next wave that's splashing you in the face.
"Oh, I will," It's not a comment, it's a promise. "I want you to count every spank I give you." he demands, his voice shifting to an even darker one and you wonder if he's just getting into some character or this is his persona in bed.
If he's usually like this in bed, you envy every girl that gets to fuck him and experience it.
"Okay." you speak up, knowing he's waiting for your answer.
He's not wasting a second, a palm meeting your clothed skin in a quick movement, not too harsh but enough to let you a surprised squeal. He palms your eyes right after, caressing the thin material as you hear your heart beating in your eardrums. You're surprised by the new feeling, complementing whether you like it or not. You need more to decide on that.
"Count, Y/N." Jungkook says through clenched teeth, reminding you of his rules that completely blew out of your mind.
"One." you cough, hiding your surprising soft voice.
It's clear, even to your inexperienced self, that he's going easy on you. His voice might be rough, showing his dominance over you, but his soft touch that makes sure to caress your attacked ass says otherwise.
"Good girl." he praises, causing a cheeky grin to appear on your lips in an instant, feeling some kind of pride over his praise.
But your grin is wiped off as soon as he slaps you again, this time focusing on the other ass cheek with more intensity, causing you to squirm in spot. This time, any sound that's about to come out of your mouth is muffled by your lips, teeth securely biting into your lower lip.
He repeats the caressing part, which helps the slight stinging feeling on your ass, although you know he's restraining himself. He makes sure he goes gradually and slowly, silently watching your reactions.
It makes you think he had probably done this before, the way he acts surely doesn't look like someone who doesn't know what he's doing. You kind of suspected that he's not boring and sex with him is a different kind of adventure, by the amount of girlfriends he had. But of course, that doesn't mean anything. Maybe his charms and attractiveness helped — but now you know that your suspicion was right.
Rather than to say it's weird, it's new for you to see this kind of side of him. Yes, Jungkook has always held some kind of dominance but he still remained this cute guy who'd pout and laugh in the cutest way. It's new, and you like it.
"Y/N..." he growls, reminding you of your task as you take your time to count for him.
"Two." you say much more stable, licking your lips in anticipation before another slap is delivered onto your lips.
Each slap gets more intense, stinging your skin even more to the point that you squirm on his lap. But every time, a number of the slap always resounds from you, not telling him to stop. It's not enough to get you off, but enough to make your panties stick to your heat, enjoying how wet you've become with each slap. You should be embarrassed when soft gasps of pleasure blend with the movie that is still on, but you could care less. Your mind is purely focused on Jungkook's hand, meeting your now exposed flesh, since he hiked up your shorts.
Skin on skin contact is even better, his soft skin and gentle circles that he massages to your skin leaves you breathless. You crave for him, the burn between your legs almost unbearable as you whimper, silently hoping Jungkook would touch you elsewhere.
"You like that, bunny, huh." he chuckles, his usual light and teasing tone gone and swapped with darkness and mocking.
Oh, you do. Much more than you've ever imagined.
"Answer me," he says, blowing another slap to your ass that makes you flinch in surprise. "You like me spanking your little ass?" he muses, a finger tracing a gentle line across his red handprint that you can't see but surely feel.
You shudder, gulping before you open your mouth. "Yes."
A low hum comes out of him, pinching your reddened skin that makes you whimper. It hurts, but when the pain slowly goes away you feel yourself clenching your thighs together, perking your ass for him.
"I told you to count," he reminds you, pinching your other cheek. "So needy." he comments under his breath, probably more to himself than to you, eyeing your perked ass.
"Nine." you count, your breath hitching in your throat.
"Last one, bunny. Get ready."
He barely finished saying it, his hand slapping over his handprint again. This one is the most intense one, causing you to loudly gasp before a shameless moan erupts in your throat. He massages your ass, blowing some air onto it that makes goosebumps appear on your skin. He gives you a few seconds, taking in your quickened breathing that gradually slows down before he slowly pulls you up.
Your cheeks are red, pupils blown out from what has just happened.
It was fucking good. So good that you wished he'd touch you again, taking care of that burn in the pit of your stomach and between your legs. You've never been turned on from this kind of thing and looking at Jungkook, just wants you to sit on his lap and repeat that time when you made cum each other.
But you stay put, taking in his dark eyes and a few strands of his raven hair covering them, before he moves them away. A slow, but clear smirk stretches onto his lips and you know your best friend is back. 
"You surely liked that." he teases you, wiggling his brows that make you roll your eyes at him.
"Pff, it wasn't that good. Don't flatter yourself." you scoff, knowing he has another thing added to his teasing list.
He's such a brat.
"Hmm, I think your soaked shorts says otherwise." he muses, eyes averting between your legs that makes you react right away, looking there for yourself.
A wet patch soaked through your panties and shorts is visible, your legs automatically closing but it's too late. He has seen it and pointed that out.
He's right. You surely liked that.
His smug smirk makes you annoyed, rolling your eyes at him once more as you quickly sit back, eyes averted to the screen.
What a brat.
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fahye · 1 month
Text
book recs: feb 2024
(disclaimer: I have spent nearly three months languishing and sullen with post-COVID symptoms and have read, over dec-feb, eighty-one books. this is a ruthlessly streamlined list of recs that does not include, uh, all the rereading of sarah maclean and charlie adhara and georgette heyer books.)
AT FIRST SPITE by olivia dade - what if I moved in next to the man who ruined my engagement to his younger brother, and tried to ruin his life by playing monsterfucking audiobooks really loudly?? a heartfelt and lovely romance that also expertly sets up a great small-town setting for an ongoing series.
THE REFORMATORY by tananarive due - historical horror based on the existence of a real school for boys, clear-eyed and brutal in showing the the effect of racist systems in the 1950s american south. compelling as hell. even if you're not usually into horror, I'd recommend this: the ghost aspect is light-handed and really not as important as the horror of what humans do to other humans.
SOMETHING WILD & WONDERFUL by anita kelly - this is a m/m romance about walking the pacific crest trail which made me see the appeal of very long walks. a miracle! it's gentle and emotional and well put together; the characters really grabbed me.
THE BELL IN THE FOG by lev a.c. rosen - the followup to 'lavender house', and somehow even better?? a historical mystery series featuring a queer private eye in 1950s san francisco who looks into crimes against other queer people. amazing queer history! ACAB! I hope there are fifty more books in this series.
FEAST WHILE YOU CAN* by mikaella clements & onjuli datta - beautiful, greedy, terrifying small-town horror that is also a fucking fantastic, gorgeously written sapphic love story. this one IS for the horror fans. it gave me the absolute creeps but I couldn't put it down.
LADY EVE'S LAST CON* by rebecca fraimow - I described this on bsky as 'if you like Leverage, space opera, old screwball comedies, and dashing sapphics who are at all times spiritually wearing a leather jacket: this one is for you' and I stand by that. huge amounts of fun.
LONG LIVE EVIL* by sarah rees brennan - I will be screaming from here until forever about SRB's first adult fantasy book. if you like the isekai'd-into-a-villain-character setup and want it to be hilarious, genre-savvy and wildly angry and clever, you will roll around in this like a blood-stained mud puddle and then beg for more.
THE LAST HOUR BETWEEN WORLDS* by melissa caruso - really clever and original fantasy about a woman on maternity leave who gets dragged into saving a cocktail party which is falling through increasingly murderous and bizarre dimensions. LISTEN, JUST GO WITH IT. it's a seriously cool adventure.
YOU SHOULD BE SO LUCKY* by cat sebastian - yes, it's another m/m romance about queer history in the mid 20th century, this one between a baseball player and the journalist assigned to write a story about his slump. made me care about baseball. cat is a genius.
*I read these as ARCs, they're not available yet but consider preordering or keep your eye out for them!
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austinbutlerslovers · 28 days
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Can we get a teaser of the feyd fic
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It is almost complete, minor details are subject to change. Here is the scene mentioned in the summary:
Feyd Fantasy Part II <Excerpt>
The Barons Favorite
The Baron speaks with his advisors in the morning about the upcoming gladiatorial fights around the massive table in the meeting hall. When the assembly concludes he uses his hover suit to bring the men of court to watch Feyd in combat training.
Part Two Complete✍🏼
He is proud of the accomplishments of his nephew Feyd, he is the Barons favorite over his older brother Glossu Rabban Harkonnen.
After making several public embarrassments to the family name the Baron had Feyds brother Rabban shipped to Arrakis. He gives him one last chance to prove his worth controlling their families most lucrative venture, harvesting spice.
Though ominous and foreboding the Baron is an obesely over weight man. He can no longer walk without the assistance of integrated technology to reduce the burden of his weight. His hover suit is implanted into his spine with thick tubes connected on two small orbs. The orbs float behind him carrying the chemicals which enable him to defy gravity.
They arrive to the second story of the courtyard in Feyds quarters. When the men gather looking down into the training pit on the first floor it is deserted. A low murmur begins between his advisors as to the where abouts of Feyd. Always eager to show off his knife skills Feyds absence is jarring.
The Baron immediately hovers to Feyds chambers and finds them empty as well. Feyds male Page appears at the entrance hearing the commotion.
“Well where is he?” The Baron snaps “You are to be at his side at all times have you forgotten your purpose”The Baron is fuming at the Pages insolence.
The Page trembles knowing the truth and averts his eyes from the Barons sinister Gaze “Spit it out or I cut it out” the Baron says coldly. He hovers into the young man’s personal space. The Page knows both men will readily slit his throat.
He divulges enough not to be dispatched by either “He and his lady are in the great halls of the fortress. I’m not sure where but he wanted to show her the grandeur of Geidi Prime” the Baron squints in anger how idiotic at a time like this with so much at stake to impress his new bride. His scowl deepens because Feyd above all neglected his training. For that he will be heavily punished.
The Great Meeting Hall
After touring your fifth great hall with Feyd it is readily apparent his family has amassed a great fortune with power and control over the populous of Geidi Prime.
He pushes open the large black inscribed doors of the meeting hall. There are thrones at opposite ends raised on platforms with stairs. The high floor to ceiling windows display the industrial city scape and a grand table that can seat fifty people occupies the majority of the floor space. Everything is void of color, only stone marble, black and granite can be seen in the gigantic area.
You walk over to the throne on your left “is this one yours?” Your voice echos in the large hall. Feyd nods, his hands are clasped behind his back. He follows you around the room as you study the furniture and the giant painting of his uncle and then of himself. There is a portait of a third Harkonnen male next to Feyds but he interrupts your thoughts before you can ask the identity.
“This is where the most important decisions are made on Geidi Prime, as well as another secret room with the cones of silence” he adds.
“What are cones of silence? “ you ask. The words are somewhat familiar to you.
“They are able to mute all sounds around them, only the two inside can hear each other.” He answers as he imagines himself fucking you inside of one until he makes you scream in pleasure as loud as he possibly can. He stops walking and stands behind you.
You've paused to study something that caught your eye. His eyes wander your form up to the beauty of your side profile. He can’t help himself as his hand trails down your shoulder. “Do these things in impress you?” He asks. You finally look over your shoulder at him.
You had been mesmerized studying an ancient Harkonnen sword on display. It is carved with hieroglyphs that date back centuries. It represents how his entire culture revolves around war and greed . “Yes ” you say addressing his question to be kind. You turn back to looking at the sword again. Inside you are deeply longing for your home world.
You remember the beautiful gardens, waterfalls, flowers, and colors of life. You especially miss the large atrium where you would read for hours basking in the afternoon sunlight. The warm rays would kiss your skin as it filtered through the glass dome.
Laying on a spacious out door ottoman with your fellow Bene Gesserit sisters honing your skills in the palatial gardens seemed like a dream now.
Feyd sees you lost deep in thought and softly grabs your chin “What would impress you more” he asks with intent. He knows you aren’t fond of the ways on Geidi Prime. You don’t have an answer so you remain quiet.
He knows one thing he has that impresses you on end. He gently pulls you into a kiss. His bottom lip rubs softly with yours as his warm tongue fills your mouth.
He ignites your passions and you place your hands on his jaw. You lean your head with his as you kiss him in return. You want to focus on the carnal and forget your distant memories. He presses himself against you and the heat of his body claims you.
He turns you walking back as he kisses your lips until you are met against the grand meeting hall table. He sits on the edge and moves to the center. He rests back on his heels beckoning you to come.
You climb onto the edge and crawl to him. Now both in the center he holds your jaw and pulls you close. His lips find yours again hungrier than before.
You feel his teeth bite into your lower lip and tug. It arouses you and he releases your lip to do again. Then he envelops his mouth completely onto yours. You feel the hardness of his cock as he presses it into your thigh.
He wants to defile you on this table. He smirks at the high disrespect to the Harkonnen dynasty he is about to commit. Soon this will all belong to him so what does it matter. He pushes you back to lie flat against the stone slab. You gaze up above him to the metallic barbs of the chandelier until his face obstructs your view.
His hands start at your knees grabbing the hem of your gown sliding it up to your hips.
His hands clutch one side of your panties tearing them apart making you gasp. He tears the other side and rips them clean from your body.
You watch as he sits back on his heels between your parted legs. He unhooks the clasp of his pants and pulls his thick veiny cock out. The contrast of the black fabric against his large hardened pale cock is striking.
His slaps his pink tip on your clit to edge you.
You flinch at each tap as it makes your bundle of nerves jump. He slides his hand down your thigh to meet your hip and holds you steady. He lines himself up and thrusts into you so roughly you have no time to adjust to the feeling.
Your vision goes hazy as your back arcs from the table. His penetration shocked you senseless. His large cock expands parts of you that you never knew existed. He watches how your face changes from pain to pleasure and back again as you try and relax around the girth of his size.
He wants to spur you on and leans down pressing his chest to yours. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck titling your head so he can speak softly into your ear.
”You are so beautiful to me” he says as his eyes study your side profile. He traces his thumb on your lower lip as you pant for him. “So desperate for my cock, the way you’d let me fuck you on this table you’d let me do anything to you” a moan escapes your lips as he shushes you “Just lay still and look pretty while I fuck you until you stretch open for me” you moan louder at his words.
He begins to roughly thrust inside of you like he wants to posses you. His cock hits your core at a dangerous pace. Your breasts bounce with every push of his hips. He is already becoming lost in pleasure grunting above you. He loves the feeling of your tight cunt stretching around his throbbing cock.
You arc your back down flat to brace yourself against his rutting. “You…feel too good on my cock” he rasps out as he finally hits the thrust that stretches you around his size. He stares down into your eyes completely transfixed by the physical connection between your bodies.
Unbeknownst to you both the Baron has finally narrowed his search. After spying into several halls down the corridor his servants waves him over finally finding the one you are in. The Baron peeks through the discreet opening made by one of the nimble servants. There on the middle of the table in the grand meeting hall he sees Feyd fucking you ruthlessly.
Your are constantly being pounded into the stone slab table by his strength. His hips begin slapping harder against you as he thrust between your legs. You hold out until the familiar tightening in your abdomen begins. Your moans start to fill the air.
As your walls clench around him it makes his cock feel incredible inside of you. Your eyes stare up at him, pleading and begging for release.
He sees the neediness in your eyes and brings his hand between your bodies touching your clit. His finger tips are wet by your arousal and he slicks them expertly in firm circles around your bundle of nerves.
It sends shocks though your core that radiate your entire body “YES please Feyd just like that“. You are unable to string together another sentence as you orgasm. He strums your clit as hard as he can with his cock slamming into your soaked pussy.
His mouth opens when he feels the pleasurable sensation of your walls milking his cock from the orgasm. He pins your wrists next to your head and plows into you even harder his release is immediate. His pace falters as he orgasms. You both moan as he paints rope after rope of his hot cum into your cervix.
He rests down on his elbows laying his full weight on you panting. He kisses your lips passionately with his final slow thrusts. His breath shudders into your mouth as he feels his cock empty inside of you.
He plants soft kisses around your face as he comes down. Each one more tender and loving than the last. His heart feels revived when he’s with you. He cradles your head in his hands staring deeply into your eyes. You smile at him and he smiles back, this time it isn’t like his sinister ones before, this one is radiant you see the kindness return in his eyes.
His uncle spying on the entire moment becomes enraged : not at the fact Feyd missed training, not at the fact he satisfied his carnal urges on the sacred meeting hall table, but at the fact Feyd put a woman’s pleasure before his own. The Baron turns away in disgust his patience is severed.
He raised Feyd with enough brutality and greed to become a ruthless tyrant. Now he sees every aspect of brutally he instilled in Feyd quickly being stripped away by a female. He never thought this was possible.
He is resolute in his decision to regain control. He will take out two problems with one swift action: Punishing Feyd by having you removed from his presence entirely.
[Sneak Peek: Full fic in finalization]
.⚔️ Fic Tag list: @burnthheparaphilia @elvismylove04 @lindszeppelin @obsessedvibee @abswifey @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @purejasmine @hardcoredisneynerd @i5uckersblog @phil2135561 @lovereadingfanfic @steph-speaks @maloribarnes1999 @meetmeatyourworst @moony-artemis @xxxstormyninixxx @prettypinkblogger @thegabbyh
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lovingrosewho · 9 months
Text
Framed
Hello there! It’s been a while since I’ve written anything but I recently began watching Criminal Minds again and fell in love with Aaron Hotchner all over again as well, so I just had to write this, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it :) This is my first Criminal Minds (published) fanfic, and the first Hotch x Reader I’ve written ever! (also the first nsfw)
ONE SHOT (but who knows, it may even have a part 2 on a future maybe not-so-near but not-so-far-away either)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Cis!fem!reader
Rating: 18+
Word count: 3467
Summary: reader has been accused of murdering her older, rich ex-fiancé (of course I took my inspo for this piece of fanfiction from Brooke Whyndam, of the movie “Legally blonde”, also, the line “then show them a picture of his dick” is from that movie).
Warnings: NSFW content (innuendo, sex, curse words, age gap - reader is in her mid twenties, Hotch is in his early/mid forties)
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“I didn’t do it!” you scream one last time slamming your fist on the table, on the edge of tears.
It had passed around 8 hours already with you in custody, accused of the murder of your ex-fiancé, a (quite older) man, CEO of a big company in town, and as if that wasn’t enough, the best friend of the sheriff.
SSA Aaron Hotchner rubs his face, tired, after observing Prentiss and Morgan’s attempts to get you to confess. It’s almost 3am.
“Sheriff, with all due respect, I think she’s telling the truth” he tells him with a soft voice after a deep sigh.
“And with all due respect, you profiled that the suspect would be a female in her mid twenties, who we’d have to get the information out of her”.
“And we also profiled she’d be seeking for attention and validation which we don’t see it happening do we?” Aaron retorts rolling his eyes discreetly.
The sheriff gives SSA Aaron Hotchner one last glance before grabbing the doorknob of the interrogation room and storming in, Hotch follows close behind, seeing how the sheriff turns off the videocamera recording what happens inside the interrogation room, knowing no good can come from asking the same questions over and over again when everybody is also tired and fed up with trying to get a false confession out of you, which, from your behavior, Hotch knows it’s impossible.
“That’s it!” the sheriff yells “You killed my best friend! Either you confess or I’ll let you rot in here the rest of the 72 hours we can have you legally detained!”
“For the last time, I. Didn’t. Do it!” you yell back.
The BAU team exchanges glances between each other.
“What judge is going to believe you huh? You were engaged to a successful man in his mid fifties! And then he goes and marries someone even younger than you!”
“That was over two years ago!” you talk back.
“You had motive and opportunity, no judge nor jury is going to understand any other reason for you to be with him that is not for the money”.
“Then show them a picture of his dick! That might clear a few things up” you finally bark at him. The sheriff looks at you in astonishment. Morgan disguises a snicker as a cough, Prentiss bites down her lower lip to suppress a laugh, and Hotchner… Hotchner just stands impassive at you.
The sheriff leaves the room enraged, and everyone else follows, not before giving you an apologetic look. Hotchner is the last one to stay. You see the slightest doubt on his eyes and the subtle twist his lips make. You know he’s thinking about letting you go, but he then lowers his stare and gets out of the room, just like everybody else.
You sigh, drained out of energy after all the interrogations. This can’t be happening to you.
You knew since the moment you met John, that just his pure acquaintance could ruin your life. He had many enemies, and even more groupies who belonged to social circles that if you hadn’t met him, you would have never even imagined they existed, but what you had never imagined either, was that after all the heartbreak, loss and pain of what you thought in that moment to be the love of your life, you’d be reliving all those feelings, cause of some stupid cop negligence.
You lay your head slowly on the table, feeling the coldness of the metal surface on your cheek, and close your eyes for just a couple of minutes. You can’t sleep, not until this nightmare is all over, but at least, you get to have a few moments of peace and quiet before some other agent enters the room and begins yet another interrogation, demanding new information. Information you don’t have.
Outside the gray room, where you can’t hear nor see anything, the BAU team argues with the sheriff about your freedom.
“We’ve gotten out of her everything we’re going to get, I’m telling you, she didn’t do it” Morgan tries to reason with him.
“An unsub who planned a homicide this calculated would be equally calculated both on his answers and his behavior, this girl was in shock when we started showing her the case photos and couldn’t get a single cohesive phrase out. You can’t pin this murder on her” Emily backs up Morgan.
The sheriff looks at both of them, puffs a sigh and places his hands on his hips before discussing.
“Look, I get it, you profilers or whatever think you’re better than all of us, but this is still my county, and while I can have her in custody, I will. Who knows? She might even give up a confession or at least some new information. Goodnight gentlemen. And lady” he starts to walk to the exit without giving any of them any chance to convince him “I suggest you too get some rest. It’s been a long day and there’s one even longer ahead of us. Lock up when you get out”.
With that last statement, the sheriff ends the discussion and exits the precinct. Morgan and Prentiss move their heads in disagreement, proceeding to look back at Hotch, who is frowning at the door the sheriff just left through.
“What now?” both the BAU members look at the unit chief.
“Sheriff is right in one thing: you should get some rest. I’ll stay here with (Y/N), keep her company and see if there’s something we missed” he declares “Call Reid, Rossi and JJ, head back to the hotel, I’ll catch up with you in a few hours”.
“Hotch she’s not our unsub” Morgan defends you again “I mean we could, let her go right?”
“I’m afraid not. If we step ahead of the local officers, we might make things worse by getting ourselves kicked out of the investigation. It’ll be of more use the sooner we find something, anything, that might help (Y/N) clear her name and get her out of here” Hotch answers, he’s looking at Morgan but directs his orders to both of them, he knows his team too well to not know for a fact that Emily is the one who’s more inclined to let you go. They both nod silently.
“All right” Emily surrenders, not just because she’s too tired to continue arguing, but because she also knows that perhaps getting back to the hotel and going over some of the facts and scenes with Reid or JJ, might be more useful “Do you want me to stay with you? I mean the precinct is completely empty. You’ll be here all by yourself”.
“It’s okay. You and Morgan. Hotel. Rest. We’ll gather first thing in the morning and go through everything we have so far” he assures and doesn’t wait for a reply, beginning to walk back to the interrogation room, hearing the exit door of the precinct close behind him and the key turning.
When he enters again, he finds you on the same position you were trying to rest, your cheek against the now warm table, your hair falling on it and covering parts of your face.
“I’m not asleep” you mutter softly “I just needed to clear my head, breath and relax for a bit”.
Hotch lets out an almost imperceptible sigh, but everything is so quiet, that you get to hear it.
“(Y/N) I know you didn’t do it” he pronounces just as softly as you.
“Really?” you frown and shift your position, sitting back on the chair, looking at him “Then… can I go?”
He presses his lips into a straight line, and lets out a firm, but still tender “no”. A single tear escapes your right eye and you wipe it off quickly, not quite giving in to the emotions just yet. Hotch notices and comes to stand right next to you, laying on the edge of the table.
“If I’d let you go, the local authorities would not let us continue the investigation and they’d pin that murder on you. Trust me, the best we can do right now is wait a few hours until everyone has cooled down and come back with fresh eyes” he guarantees you, his features relaxing as he tells you this “Everything’s gonna be fine”.
“Everything’s gonna be fine” you repeat his words slowly, then look up at him. Damn it. He’s handsome. It’s no secret to anyone you have a thing for older men, but did that trait really have to emerge right now? You can’t help but to laugh out loud at the thought, it’s absurd to you that you could be thinking of that when you’re being accused of murder.
“What’s so funny?” he asks confused, and distances himself ever so slightly from you, without leaving his place on the table.
“Nothing, just…” you start, in an attempt to explain yourself and don’t end up looking crazy “God, if I had met you under any other circumstances, I’d probably be all over you right now”.
SSA Aaron Hotchner does not move, nor his face changes towards you, but you can see the most subtle blush on his cheeks, and his fists tightening. His lips finally crack up a light smile, finding the situation absurd as well, he quickly remembers the videocamera is off.
“You do realize you could be facing murder charges, right?” he asks playfully, kinda mocking you, keeping the volume of his voice down.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry” you apologize “It’s just so late, I’m tired, and well, you’re smoking hot” you confess with an apologetic, but also mischievous, look. Hotch finally lets out a laugh. Get a hold of yourself, Hotchner, he thinks to himself, takes a deep breath and goes back to his serious stare.
“(Y/N), I understand it’s been a long day in which you’ve been under a lot of pressure, but for me to keep up this game would be not only unprofessional, but also unethical. Your mind is probably just making up this crush for you to pass the time and distract yourself from what is happening. You’ll get over me” he explains sweetly.
“I wish I could get under you instead…” your witty retort catches him off guard, he swallows hard and starts coughing. He’s not used to women flirting with him anymore, not for a long time, let alone women almost half his age.
“I’ll see you in a few hours” he says standing up and reaching towards the door, not really uncomfortable by your approaches, but more by his increasing boner.
“No, okay I’m sorry, please stay with me” you beg him, standing up as well “I was just joking. Well, not really, but just… please keep me company, stay?”
He turns back at you not realizing how close you are, less than a couple steps behind him and he almost crashes into you, but he prevents the two of you from tripping by stabilizing himself grabbing your hips, but his hands can’t get to let go afterwards. You breath heavily, feeling the arousal and heat from the proximity suffocating you.
“Please fuck me” you half ask, half beg, admitting to yourself that what you need right now is precisely what agent Hotchner said: relieving some stress and distraction.
SSA Aaron Hotchner can’t help himself.
Ugh, fuck it, he thinks. It’s the sheriff’s fault for turning off the videocamera in an attempt to scare you and try and trick you into making a confession.
Without any further notice, he grabs your ass and the highest part of the back of your thighs to lift you. Your legs instinctively wrap around his back and your arms around his neck, not breaking eye contact as you let him carry you to the table. He places you on the table with tenderness, caressing your back as he does so. You bring your dominant hand to grab his tie and pull him in for a long, wet, controlled kiss, running your other hand along his arm and chest, ending the trace on his cheek, allowing your thumb to move back and forth on his skin.
Quite to be honest, Aaron doesn’t know how well he’ll be able to perform. It’s been a while since he’s last had sex, and his mind is always either on his job, or his family. He’ll probably won’t last more than a few minutes. But he can try and make it up to you.
He begins to deviate his trace of wet kisses from your mouth, to you jaw, your neck, and slowly your chest, discovering little by little the skin under your clothes, while his hands drop by the side of your waist, hips and legs, exploring you under the midi skirt you’re wearing. His right hand finds the slit between your legs, covered by your panties, and starts caressing it through the fabric. He listens to you moan and brings his other hand to cover your mouth with endearment, letting you know you’ve got to keep quiet.
He moves your panties to the side and traces one finger along your slick, inserting it inside of you. You have to suppress an even louder moan. He moves that one finger up and down, hitting your G spot, inserting another finger when you’re ready.
“Please” you beg once again. Aaron chuckles, grabbing you and getting you closer to the edge of the table, proceeding to get down on his knees and sucking all your juices without any type of heads up. You can’t but let out a loud moan. He looks up at you, and even though his eyes demand silence, you can tell there’s the slightest grin on his lips, before he continues sucking and licking your folds and clit. Your back drops to the table, unable to keep yourself steady so you can watch him. You’re trembling with desire and lust “Agent Hotchner, please” you beg once again. Hearing you call him ‘agent Hotchner’ does something to him. He stands up, wiping a little bit of your juices off his mouth and kissing you afterwards, his hands resting on either side of you on the table, one of them coming to grab each of your nipples one at a time.
“How much do you want this?” he asks softly.
“I need you” you answer “Please, fill me”.
His eyes meet yours and he nods slowly. His mouth comes to encircle one of your nipples as he pulls down your underwear and hides it in his suit pocket, and undoes his belt and trousers, without taking any clothes off. You come up from your laying position to support yourself with your elbows on the table, not wanting to miss how the special agent from the FBI takes his cock out to give it to you.
When he’s got it out and ready for you, he pumps it up and down a couple of times before lifting entirely your skirt and positioning himself in your entrance. He enters slowly, letting you take him all in, allowing you to accustom to his size, and for the love of him, he feels like he could explode any second. He breathes deeply and clears his mind, his ego not letting him end up looking like a teenager having his first time.
“Let me ride you” you ask after a few slow thrusts, needing more of him. He looks at you and nods.
God, what is he doing? At least you’re innocent. Are you? Right? You’ve gotta be. The profile doesn’t fit. But they’ve been wrong before haven’t they?
You exchange positions so he’s laying on the table, you get on top of him and guide his cock back into you again. You part your lips in a moan when you come down on him and begin moving your hips, his hands moving alongside them. You lower yourself without stopping so you can kiss him, rubbing your whole torso on his, your sweat making your skin slip on his skin. He grabs your breasts so he can bring them to his mouth, nibbling them.
Meanwhile, you’re wondering if this might just be another trick for you to let your guard down. But what could you say that might incriminate you? You know you’re innocent. What if he’s not even a real agent?
You’re so close that you can’t give yourself permission to sink into those thoughts, instead, you start riding Hotch faster and stronger, your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you do so.
“Aaron, Aaron…” you moan lowly. You don’t know if it’s okay that you’re on a first name basis already, but it just seems weird to you if you call him ‘Hotch’ like his colleagues.
It seems like he’s perfectly fine with it, as he digs his fingertips on your hips, encouraging you to keep going, feeling how your walls tense around him as your orgasm hits you.
You moan uncontrollably as you come, not being able to keep those in, digging your nails in Aaron’s shoulder suit sleeves. Afterwards, you lay slowly on his chest, until you start feeling like he’s pulling himself out.
“Wait” you gather and pull yourself up again, with him still inside of you “What are you doing? Don’t you wanna finish too?”
He looks at you in disbelief.
“Well I thought you may wanna rest or…” he begins explaining. You laugh and look fondly at him, lowering yourself again to murmur “don’t stop” in his ear.
Of course, he remembers. Twenties.
That’s everything he needs to start thrusting into you with everything he’s got left.
“(Y/N) I’m not-“ he tries to phrase “I’m not going to last longer, I’m- is it okay if I…?”
“Come inside me” you order “It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m on contraceptives”.
He decides to believe you, for his sake, and fastens his pace until it becomes sloppy, spilling inside of you just like you asked for, his cum filling you and showing between your folds as he brings himself out.
“Oh my god” he breathes out as he brings you down to his chest, securing his arms around your back, bringing you even closer to him “I’ll put you in handcuffs myself if it turns out you’re not innocent”.
You chuckle, tracing circles on his chest through the fabric of his shirt.
“I am. But still, you can put me in handcuffs any time you want”. He laughs alongside you, still feeling a bit like a teenager. A teenager who just did something very very wrong and that nobody should find out about. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a few seconds before his cellphone starts ringing, he answers almost immediately.
“Hotchner” he says calmly “Yes I’m still here. No, everything’s fine, she’s… behaved. Prints don’t match? Well of course they don’t, was García able to tell whose are they then? Right. Well, tell her to keep digging. I’ll see you in a bit”.
After he hangs up he turns to you with a playful look.
“You never touched the gun that was in your purse, did you?” you shake your head.
“Guns and, weapons of any type really, give me the creeps, I just left it there thinking it was someone’s idea of pranking me or something”.
“Well that may have just made your case. You’re free to go. Whoever was trying to frame you did a lousy job not guessing you weren’t going to grab the gun” he tells you arching his brows at you. You stare perplexed at him.
“You’re serious? Oh my god Aaron! Thank you!” you exclaim kissing him.
“Yes, and we should get dressed and get out of here before anything else happens” he affirms gently, helping you stand up so you both can fix your clothes.
“Well, agent Hotchner, it’s been a pleasure. Truly” you tell him when the two of you are walking out of the interrogation room towards the exit.
“Pleasure is all mine, (Y/N)” he says, winking an eye at you “I’d like you to know… I don’t usually do this. I don’t…”
“Aaron” you interrupt sweetly, one of your hands coming to grab his forearm to stop him “I know. I can tell. It’s okay. I know that if I hadn’t initiated it or followed up you would have never even considered it, I get it… but now, can we please do it again?”
He chuckles.
“You know where we’re staying and the number of my hotel room, sweetheart. And I also recall reading on some case file that you’re from Virginia and were just visiting your home town?”
You smile widely at him as you nod, pulling him in from his tie for one last kiss. Or who knows, it might not even be the last one.
MASTERLIST
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khruschevshoe · 2 months
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You know, I saw all the Orpheus and Eurydice web weaving posts for Clara and 12. I saw all of the Hadestown references on all of your posts. And yet none of that actually prepared me for watching Hell Bent and going oh. Oh shit.
Because I knew about the confession dial and what he does in Heaven Sent to get her back. I know the general plot of Hell Bent. I did not realize he literally shows up with a guitar at the beginning and end of it all. That he went to the underworld in Heaven Sent and comes out of the underworld in Hell Bent and manages not to look back but only because he's planning on never looking back. He's planning on wiping her mind and so instead she looks back and dooms him, wiping his mind, and he ends the entirety of their run playing his guitar into the desert to a ghost. He will never get her back because she looked back. She will forever haunt him because he succeeded and failed at the same time. Because she wrenched her agency out of the situation. And he doesn't remember her, she can't remember her, but he is haunted by her. He is LITERALLY PLAYING HER SONG at the end of it.
I finally understand why people are so obsessed with the twelveclara dynamic, and I would put at least fifty bucks on the idea that Steven Moffat looked at how the Ten/Donna subplot ended in Journey's End (Doctor and companion become a hybrid and the Doctor realizes that if he doesn't wipe her memories she'll die because she has too much Time Lord in her) and went how do I Orpheus/Eurydice this shit but flip the table as to who is Orpheus and who is Eurydice at the last second? Who gets to walk into hell and who gets to look back and who gets to be haunted? BOTH OF THEM. ALWAYS BOTH OF THEM. THEY WILL HAUNT EACH OTHER UNTIL THE END OF TIME ITSELF.
Now excuse me while I go scream into my pillow-
(Also, this all your fault, @twelvesbian, I hope you're happy.)
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jjunberry · 2 months
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hwacrossing
pairing! park seonghwa x reader
genre! fluff
synopsis! playing acnh with hwa and showing him the joys of treasure islands
wc! 600
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animal crossing was a shared interest between yourself and seonghwa. he had started way before you so his island was already well decorated. yours however…was sort of a mess still. with only having your entrance done you started to get desperate for new paths and new decorations. you we’re beginning to get bored of waiting for the recipes and events.
so you did what any reasonable person would do. you went onto treasure islands. suddenly you had millions of bells and all the decorations and flowers you could possibly want. seonghwa blissfully unaware to your treasure island shenanigans. he took pride in sending you decorations and bells. he loved that you needed him.
seonghwa packed up his switch and an overnight bag to stay at yours for the weekend. when he arrived at your house you were already playing. “y/nie i told you to wait for me.” he playfully whined. you giggled. “sorry hwa, i couldn’t help myself i’m almost done with my fossil digging site.” his brows furrowed.
he took a seat next to you and stared at your screen. he watched you run around and place certain decorations and add a fossil he knew you didn’t dig up yet. “y/n where did you get that? it’s not in your museum.” you looked at the fossil. “oh that? i found it on a treasure island.” you shrugged. seonghwa gasped dramatically. “look at all of those bells! how’d you get that many so fast?” you sighed and pulled out your phone.
opening twitch you looked up treasure islands and clicked on a stream with about fifty viewers. seonghwa’s eyes scanned the screen. “oh my god, where have these been this whole time?” he questioned. seonghwa went to his airport to visit a garden materials island.
“i can finally have my cherry blossoms.” he smiled. for the next several hours the two of you played together visiting different treasure islands. eventually both of your islands were filled with random flowers and decorations.
“oh my god y/n! look look.” seonghwa shoved his switch in your face. “what.” you giggled pushing it back slightly. “do you see that?” he pointed to a lily of the valley that grew. your eyes went wide. “oh my god seonghwa no way!” you screamed. he smirked proudly.
“wait a minute.” you looked at his unplaced items and weeds from him time traveling. “seonghwa.” you glared. “what?” he asked. “there is no way that just grew there your island is a mess!” he gasped placing his hand over his heart. “are you accusing me of planting a lily of the valley from a treasure island to trick you?” he asked.
“you just admitted to it!” you smacked him with one of your couch pillows. “hey.” he whined before tackling you onto the couch. the two of you play fought until he pinned your hands above you. the sound of your heavy breathes filled the silence.
the faint sounds of animal crossing in the background. he smiled at you before capturing your lips against his. you leaned up into the kiss and he released his hold on your hands. he pulled you up against him as he deepened the kiss.
the both of you pulled away breathless. “you know, i picked up a wedding set from the last island i visited.” you said shyly. seonghwa smirked and kissed you deeply. “well then open your gates for visitors baby.” he patted your bottom before you both took off to your switches once again.
-
author’s note! i’m totally convinced seonghwa’s island has cherry blossoms year round
love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪
© jjunberry
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#384
“Fucking hell.  If it ain’t Wallace McGrew’s oldest boy!…  Ryan, you did good.  Fuck yeah you did.  I can’t think of anything else that I would enjoy more for my 65th birthday....
 “TJ, did you know about this?...  I’m surprised you two kept this secret so well.  So is he a true faggot or one that you made?...  Well I’ll be damned, Wallace raised himself a screaming sperm burper, and that knob gobbler is standing before us, bound spread eagled, collared, gagged,…  plugged too.  All for me.  Fucking hell Ryan, you couldn’t have done any better with this year’s birthday cunt….
“…So you are the son of Wally?...  Just nod….  Good.  Do you know who I am?...  I would have been surprised that you hadn’t.  What about my ranch manager TJ?...  No.  Did you know Ryan was my boy?...  No.  Good.
“Ryan, why isn’t his pecker caged?  That’s one hell of a raging hard-on….  This faggot’s pecker is like steel….  It’s a good five- or six-incher.  It doesn’t look like he’s on any hard-on medication.  That’s all natural.  Goddamn!  This boy is leaking up a storm.  Now I understand why you didn’t put a cage on him.
“Why don’t you two bring the fuck table over and secure him bent over.  Nice body.  Ryan, you did a good job shaving him….  What?  You didn’t shave him?...  Well that’s interesting. 
“Look at that ass.  See those purple marks on his left cheek.  Those are scars from a savage whipping.  His back has healed up, but I can still see some marks.
“Faggot, you have played before, haven’t you?  It’s obvious you are a faggot.  But you have been beat before, right?  I mean a man has inflicted pain on you for his own enjoyment?...  Did your daddy do this to you?...  No?  Too bad.  You would have been a lot more interesting if he did.
“Fucking hell.  This changes things.
“Ryan, TJ, fuck him.  TJ you go first.  Be quick about it.  Ryan, yank out the plug and let me see it….  It’s spotless.  Did you clean him out?...  So the faggot was prepared….  Actually that doesn’t surprise me.  TJ, just shove it in and go to town.  Be rough on the fag’s cunt.  I want you to cum quick.
“Ryan, show me the video of him….  Wow, the faggot knows how to service your fat pud.  Look at him go.  That’s one hungry fag boy.
“Hey faggot, have you seen this?...  Look at how you throat Ryan’s sausage with ease.  I’m actually impressed here.  I know it’s hard to focus on the video with TJ plowing your twat.  He’ll be done soon.  He’s already started picking up the pace. 
“Look at your face here.  That is the face of a true faggot.  You are in ecstasy slobbering on Ryan’s cock….  You seem to have no trouble with his fat pud.  Most faggots struggle with throating him.
“Oh fuck here goes TJ!...  Damn!  He really came hard.
“TJ!  Pull out so Ryan can take over. 
“Ryan, go in hard and don’t let up.  Get your nut quick then you and TJ can get out of here.  I want to spend some alone time with my birthday present. 
“Hey faggot, the cock filling your mouth in the video is plowing your cunt.  You are kinda getting it from both ends from the same dick….
“Ryan, you should see his face right now.  He’s not struggling like the others.  It appears that Wally McGrew’s son is a seasoned cum dump whore.  I take it that he’s loose?...  Typical.
“Faggot.  When a man, a real man, is going to fuck you, you need to provide a hole that will provide him pleasure.  So tighten up that cunt….  Well, that got a smile out of Ryan….  He’s picking up his pile driving.  Hear that?  That’s the sound of a two hundred fifty-pound man grunting as he’s slamming into your loose cunt.  No better sound in the world.
“Shoot!  Shoot!  Flood this faggot’s guts….  Atta boy!  Fuck yeah.
“Faggot, clamp down as Ryan pulls out.  I want your cunt full of spunk.  Ryan is known for two things, his big dick and his huge loads….
“What’s that Ryan?...  Finish watching the video?  OK.  And I want to be alone with the faggot.  Plug up the faggot’s cunt, then go wait for me in TJ’s house.  Don’t get dressed, and don’t wipe your cock.  The fag will suck clean whatever dried slime flakes remain on it in a bit.  Now go. 
“…So here we are faggot, just you and me.  I have to admit, I was truly surprised.  Not that Ryan snagged Wallace McGrew’s son as my birthday present, although that did surprise me a little.  No, what shocked me is that Wally’s son has experience, lots of it, as a slave. 
“From the scars on your ass and back to your worked over nips, to the fact that you didn’t even flinch when Ryan shoved his beer can cock into your cunt, and to the compliance I saw as they were resecuring your bonds, I can tell you have done this before.  It’s more than that.  The look of ecstasy on your face as this was going on, wasn’t a look of ‘this-feels-so-good,’ but rather one of being in a submissive headspace.  I can tell that no matter what I do to you, what pain I will cause, you are suffering for my desires, and it naturally centers your mind.
“Am I right?  Nod yes or no….  Yeah, I see you.  You are clear to me.  I knew you weren’t a pain pig—a fag that is into receiving pain for pain sake.  Pain pigs bore me beyond the first few minutes I’m with them.  Yeah, if I need to get off, they serve their function.  But you need to connect on a much deeper level, craving to offer your pain and suffering for a higher purpose.
“You understand what I am saying.  Knowing that I—a naturally superior man—am getting my primal needs met by your service,… your submission,… your sacrifice,… and your suffering is all the motivation you need to continue.  You don’t want the pain, but knowing it’s getting me to leak, makes you want it more.  It may be confusing to many, but to you it makes all the sense in the world. 
“I’m always looking for a faggot with this mindset.  I have found a few in my time, never would have guessed that Wally’s boy would be one of them.
“Let me take my cock out….  Look down.  I am rock hard and leaking.  And I see you are too.  So it is safe to say that even though we never really met before, I know you.  I really know you.
“Let me ask you faggot, you want to serve me?...
“Submit to me?...
“Sacrifice for me?...
“Suffer for me?...
“Good.  Faggots like you are hard to find.  I thought Ryan was one when I met him eleven years ago.  It was clear that he did not have that mindset.  But he connected with me so well on so many other things, that we developed into something else. 
“He still serves me and helps me satisfy my cruel sadistic side.  He’s definitely my beta boy.  That’s what’s his groove is.  He likes to bring me objects like yourself so that I can enjoy the way I want to, that I need to.
“Hell, he’s the one who set up this birthday tradition of offering faggots like you.  He goes to Denver, and he takes his time to find the victim.  When my day arrives, I make the trek here to PJ’s ranch outside the city for the reveal.
“He doesn’t go into much detail with me because it’s my birthday present after all.  But I do know that this is a long process for him.  And I have to say the slave cunts he offers me has been perfect, yourself included.
“The one thing that he does with each faggot he offers is to make a video of the fag willingly sucking him off to completion.  He told me that he uses the fag’s phone to record it leading the fag to agree to the filming.  And he always manages to send himself a copy for me to view later.
“Like this video of you expertly throating Ryan’s mammoth cock.  You are a true world class cocksucker. 
“These videos are great.  They provide the motivation for the faggot’s entire time here.  Oh, I forgot to mention, every birthday present is closeted, just like yourself.  If the faggot does not perform to my satisfaction at any time, that video is sent off to where it will have the biggest impact: boss, wife, girlfriend, or—in your case—dad.
“Yes, the intention was to coerce you into submitting to me.  But that all changed in the few minutes when I recognized your true nature.  I don’t feel like coercion is possible; your hunger has been visible all this time.
“But don’t worry.  I will be outing you to your dad.  There is no way in hell that I am not going to pass up that opportunity.  Regardless of whether you make my cut, he’s going to receive a video.
“A word of caution: don’t even think of begging me not to.  Begging is a form of selfishness, and I do not deal with selfish slaves, faggots, or cunts.  You understand?
“No don’t try to say ‘Yes Sir’ around a gag.  The primary reason why I gag faggots like you is that I don’t want to hear the shit that comes out of your mouth. 
“A sharp nod ‘Yes’ is all that’s needed.  It needs to be a quick down then up, and it’s in that order.  Show me….  Good.  Remember that.  A sharp ‘No’ shake would be used in the rare occasion I allow a ‘No’ from you.  If your head is secured, then nod with your eyes.  If you are blindfolded, fuck it, I don’t need to hear from you.
“You will be staying with me for the weekend.  I can see your mind is where it needs to be.  I will be testing out your body’s response.  You will be filmed doing some extreme kink.  I’ll figure what I will use to show your dad.  The ability to fuck over Wally McGrew is the best birthday present I could get.
“Did you know he outed me to the whole town once he caught me plowing one of his farm hands?  That cost me a lot of business.  The worst part was his smug demeanor he had about town; being all righteous looking down at me.  Now I get to tell him his son is a piss drinking, sperm farting, ass eating, cum dump faggot.  It won’t be just him, our little town will know. 
“Oh I got it.  I will show your video to Dwight Smith the barber.  You dad goes in once a week on Thursday for a beard trim like clockwork.  I’ll make sure to be showing Dwight as your dad comes in.  Fuck yeah. 
“This will happen.  Nothing, and I mean nothing, will prevent me from outing you.
“I’m so fucking horny now.  First things first, let me unsecure you.  I want you to stand in the center.  Don’t try to run.  I don’t believe for one bit you are going to try to bail, but one thing I have learned over the years is never—and I mean never—trust a faggot slave.  And I don’t you.  Trust is something earned over a long time serving. 
“You have no shoes, and there’s lots of rocks on the ground; you won’t get very far.  Besides, these ankle and wrist cuffs that are padlocked on you have a tracking device.  So does that shock collar locked around your neck.
“Get over here and help me take my boots off….  That brought a smile to your face.  Just set them aside.  I’m going back in them once I take off my jeans and boxers.  Here, smell my foot.  Inhale deeply.  Better than any poppers out there.  Now my pants. 
“I see you eyeing my bulge.  Faggot, that is the center of your world from now on.  Go on and touch it; I know you want to.  But only briefly.  Now pull down my boxers.  Look at my cock.  It’s not as thick as Ryan’s, but mine is a bit longer.  It stays hard longer, and I can cum multiple times.
“Sniff my shorts, especially the tiny skid mark.  You are going to intimately know my shithole going forward.  Now help me put my boots back on….
“…Don’t worry, your tongue will be exploring my boots later.  But now, hand me my belt from my jeans.  Good.  Now go stand in the middle over there.
“Raise both arms above your head.  Keep them up there.  Today is my 65th birthday.  It is a birthday tradition that there needs to be birthday beatings.  Spankings are so pointless.  A good ol’ fashioned ass lickin’ is more in line with what is needed.  And there is no way that my ass is going to receive an ass lickin’ of any type other than with your tongue.  So that means you are the one who will be on the receiving end of said beatings.  65 of them.  I want you to count.  Make sure those numbers are clearly announced around that gag.
“I would ask if you were ready, but your dick is leaking harder than I have seen it before.  Look at my cock.  It too is leaking.  We are both ready to do this.  Let’s get some active welts going. 
“Now don’t fucking move from that spot.  No matter what I do to you, remain there. 
“One!  Holy shit!  That one was perfect across your ass.  You will learn, I don’t ramp up my intensity.  The first is as cruel as the last.  But this one landed perfectly across both cheeks.  Oh fuck, I already broke skin. 
“Cry all you need to boy.  I’ve only just begun.  Oh look!  There’s some blood.  Fuck yeah.  “And know this faggot, you are making me one happy man.”
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yandere-sins · 1 year
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Before reading: R18, Mature Content Warning, Yandere Warning
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“Welcome to prison, ya filthy criminal.”
The guard’s words were like cold slaps in your face. There was no kindness or even just a speck of respect in them. They were echoed by a vast variety of sounds circling around you the moment you stepped through the last gate to the outside and into the complex. From laughter to screams to moans—everything haunted these stinking walls. “Move it,” the guard grunted at you, shoving you forward after your feet had stopped halfway in the doorway, the harsh feeling of an elbow to your spine only adding to your discomfort.
This had not been the plan, said every prisoner ever.
“Fresh meat, boys!” the guard hollered behind you as they ushered you forward, baton slapping into the palm of their hand before coming down on the cell bars on your side. An awful quietness spread as you felt a million eyes turn to you, from above, the cells beside you and right in your path. And then, chaos descended.
If you were disgusted by the sounds before, then the rattling of bars, obscenities screamed at you (ranging from invitations to warm beds to threats of suffocating you with a pillow at night), and the delighted ogling at a change in the current boring routine of the prisoners, made you want to throw up. No one came to your rescue when hands reached out, grabbing you by the orange jersey you were put into, yanking you to the one side, and jerking you to the next. Laughter underlined everything as they saw your grimace, disgust, discomfort, and panic hidden behind your best poker face. But there was only so much you could endure before your mask began to crack.
“Come to my cell! I’ll give you the ride of your life.” “Why don’t you come over here, baby? I got some knives to show you.” “You’d look even better with my hands around your throat.” “Want someone to treat you to the real prison experience?” “Betcha fifty bucks they aren’t gonna survive.” “I give them a week.” “I give them one day.” “Deal.”
“My god, move!”
Tearing you out of the overwhelmed state of mind after being bombarded by the voices, the guard brought their baton down to your back, striking across it once and making you lose balance. With an ungraceful, embarrassing uff being punched out of your lungs, you fell to your knees, the items you were holding splaying out on the floor. Roaring laughter insulted your fall while you scrambled to collect your things, the guard groaning behind you in annoyance.
“How did someone like you even make it into prison?” they asked as you got to your feet again, letting your head hang low. Already, you had lost the pride you had come here with, wanting to keep your head held high and get through this without causing a stir. But you had a feeling no one would forget the display of you on your knees with your ass in the air, your extra pair of underwear displayed before you as if you were offering it up as a peace sign while submitting yourself to the torture.
“That’s your cell,” the guard snarked, hitting the cell door with their, extremely irritating, stick weapon. The door remained closed as you stood before it, a little confused about what you were supposed to do now, wanting nothing more than to get inside and hide in your bed for the rest of your time here. Rolling their eyes, the guard let out a long sigh and dramatically gripped the bars on the door, pulling it back to open up the doorway.
“There you go, princess,” they mocked you, leaning towards you and talking as if you were a child. “One super deluxe room including your personal psycho. If you need anything, you can ask that thing in there. Maybe they’re willing to not kill you if you tell them your little sob story of how you got here.”
Winding up with their baton in hand, you didn’t want to be hit yet again to be put into motion, so you stepped forward quickly, nothing but gray colors and the smell of sweat welcoming you into the enclosure. The guard slammed the door closed before patting themselves with their baton on the shoulder.
“Try not to die too quickly, okay? We only cleaned that cell last month after the last roommate died, and I don’t want that psycho peer down my asscrack again while we scrub your remains off the wall, gotcha?”
You couldn’t even have responded if this was a serious question. Because what were you supposed to say to that? “Okay, I’ll become best buddies with whoever is inside of here with me!” or “Oh, no, officer! Let me out, please!” The guard could be heard for a few more minutes as they made their way back outside, prisoners hassling them for information about you, wanting to know everything.
There you were now. Your cell. The place you’d sleep, live, and hide in for the rest of your sentence... or life. Wearily dragging your eyes over to the bunk bed, you stared into the darkness of the lower bunk, not seeing anything for a moment as your eyes adjusted. The light overhead was, by the looks of it, smashed. Just your luck.
“H-Hello?” you called out. Remembering the guard’s words, you realized much too late you shouldn’t have done that.
Your blood froze as piercing eyes split through the darkness, only outshone by the grin that formed on your roommate’s lips when you could finally see who you were dealing with.
Your chances of survival? Zero.
«────────  🗡♡ ︎𓍝  ────────»
Welcome to the YMP, my lovely sinners!
The Yandere Multifandom Prison (Short YMP) hosts a multitude of long-term inhabitants. There is nothing in here that isn’t smeared in some kind of body fluid, fights are served like the cold eggs at breakfast every day, and there are definitely some... guests you’d like to avoid while staying here. Unfortunately, you didn’t really have a say in coming here, however, there are some things that are up to you!
RULES OF THE PRISON:
This is an 18+ Project, do not subject yourself to it if you can’t handle violence, gore, sexual content, yandere, and many, many more dark topics. (There will be individual warnings, but this is at best dark romance, at worse everyone dies.)
This is not a pure nsfw project! Please trust in me to decide when to include something! ♥
If you find yourself with questions before sending in your request, please asks me beforehand!
Read the Instructions below before sending in your ask!
Please no in-depth character customization or characterization. This is a xReader project and at this point I can’t provide OC-like conditions, sorry.
However, sparse details and wishes for the direction of the story and gender indications are welcome! Btw, you’ll find all kinds of genders in this prison, good luck ;)
Just focus on your reader for the information, I’ll come up with something for the characters of your choosing!
ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴠᴏʟᴜɴᴛᴇᴇʀ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴍᴘ! [CLOSED!]
𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙨: Send in your ask with a few customized information for your reader.
🗡 ʜᴏᴡ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴅ ᴜᴘ ʜᴇʀᴇ? (What felony did you commit to end up in prison?)
𓍝  ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀɪꜱᴏɴ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ? (Did you do it or did you take the blame?)
🗡 ᴡʜᴏ’ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ? (Multifandom Project! Choose one (1) character from my fandoms available, current and old.)
𓍝  ʟᴀꜱᴛʟʏ, ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇʟʏɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪꜱᴏɴᴇʀꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʟᴘ... ᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴜᴀʀᴅꜱ? (Choose whether your LI is a fellow prisoner or rather an enforcer of justice.)
«────────  🗡♡ ︎𓍝    ────────»
Who knows? In all this chaos, you might just meet an unlikely pair of helping hands... finger count is debatable. What will you do when you are graced with the fortune of finding a protector amongst the scum of the earth? Will you guys be able to survive? Change your misfortune and get out?
Or will you come to realize that the person you trust is the one you really need to escape from?
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signedmio · 18 days
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Hi there! Long time fan, first time requester! I’m autistic and my current hyper fixation is the HELLAVerse so I got super excited when I saw you’re writing for Helluva now! I was hoping for fem/gn reader with Stolas, Millie, Blitz, and your choice where they go to lulu land for a birthday or an anniversary? I love theme park date ideas and wanna see your take on it if you’d like!
Also, could I be 🍎 anon? I’d love to interact more now that I’ve gotten this far!
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𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳ø, 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
a/n: heyo!! ofc you can be 🍎anon!! when i read this i was kinda confused cause i didn’t know if you meant lu-lu WORLD by lucifer or loo loo LAND — the knock off of lucifer’s, which i think is owned by mammon? idk i’m still rewatching the episodes haha. but i think you meant the one via and stolas went to in season 1 so i hope i’m right ^^” and yes ofc!! don’t be scared to interact haha, i won’t bite. even if it’s not request related i can stir up quite the convo XD anyway, on with the show :)
warnings: profanity, mentions of possible age-gaps in stolas’s part, implied violence in millie’s part
proofread: yep
tags: helluva boss, x reader, fic, stolas, blitzø, millie
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𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳ø
blitzø quite honestly doesn’t understand all that hype about loo loo land, but if it makes you happy, than hey, fuck it, am i right?
the only thing he genuinely doesn’t like is the possibility of running into fizz, they may have sorta made up, but it’s still a bit awkward — at least for now
he’ll go do all the rides with you, even the ones he thinks are dumb, or straight-up creepy, whether he says it or not he likes seeing you get all excited about it
although, he genuinely does get into the rides that go upside-down and backwards and that go crazy fast, he’s screaming out of excitement the whole damn way, and you both probably end up going on those like 100 times
and yes, he did spend the fifty dollars on that novelty cup that you can only use once, all for you
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𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬
while at loo loo land, he may baby you just a tad, especially if you’re an age-gap couple where he’s significantly older
like blitzø, he’ll go on all the rides with you, but not the big, scary rides like blitzø would do, nah, stolas would do the kiddy ones and sit there clap his hands like a small child…
as we can see in S1E2, he will spend a shit ton of money on any kind of merchandise like shirts, hats, cups, toys, etc — will probably bring something from for via as well
speaking of via, her father will constantly be sending her pictures of the two of you while on your outing, while octavia is stuck at home with stella…
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𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞
once millie finds out your going to loo loo land for her birthday, she’s over the moon!! she gets packed and dressed up and everything!!
she gets all excited like a little kid, she’ll be the first one rushing you both to any sort of ride, kiddy or not, or any of the game booths
honestly, it’s very heart-warming and sweet to see this grown ass woman get excited about a theme park, and i’m not even kidding
though she won’t hesitate to tear anyone apart who even thinks about ruining her birthday date for either of you…
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i do not permit for my work to be reposted, translated, or stolen. all rights go to signedmio. characters are not mine, unless stated, and belong to their rightful creators.
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