#brown leather pumps

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru x darling

TW: NSFW, noncon, fantasy au

gn reader

Thinking about hunter Gojo and the pretty little nymph that gets themselves snared in one of his traps.

You can’t get your poor leg loose, having twisted your ankle in your fall to the ground – something’s wrong with your wing too, you can feel it – the thin network’s been folded, almost broken – so even if you did manage getting loose, you wouldn’t be able to fly away.

Branches snap around you along the crunch of old leaves – and your heart’s beating out of your chest in fear of it – knowing something large and dangerous is not far behind, that whoever set the trap is not something that wishes you well.

“You’re not a rabbit.” The man says, having crept in close before you’d even heard him approach – crouching in front of you with a hunter's grace. Hawk-eyes ice-blue and piercing, hair as white as pure snow.

He’s got three daggers sleaved in his belt – a fillet knife, a gutting knife, and a larger one you imagine is meant to slice throats. He doesn’t carry a sword like most men but has a bow and sack of arrows slung on his back. Otherwise, dressed lightly – brown leather boots, brown slacks, and a blue cotton shirt. You could have mistaken him for a woodland elf if it weren’t for the thick stench of man.

“Eating creatures from the holy forest is forbidden.” You snip, despite your wide eyes and the wobble of fear evident on your lip.

He only smiles at the quip, a grin like a predator humored by prey. “You wouldn’t tell a wolf not to hunt.”

He stalks you, leaning in closer, and you try shuffling away – but the movement only makes you wince.

“I’m just another hungry animal…”

Rope gnaws into your fine skin while his breath puffs hot and dewy on your face.

“And tonight… seems lady luck has favored me once again.”

He gags you and ties you further up before redoing his snare for the next unlucky creature – then carries you over his shoulder until he’s dropping you down on a bed of furs.

Your skin flushes with goosebumps at the thought of being skinned the same way – mouthing a little prayer around the cloth he’s split your teeth and lips with. He’s cut trees down as well; you hear their pitiful screams when he lights a fire with their bodies. You mourn them, too.

At his full height, the man must be two heads taller than any male nymph you’ve ever seen and at least three heads taller than you. You hope you’re enough to satisfy him tonight, to spare the forest of further bloodshed.

You shiver and sniffle when he starts prepping you – removing your clothes and groping your tender, fleshy places with a strength you’re not used to – hands large and crass – kneading you like dough – probably to assess the quality of your meat. He has a smile on his face while at it. 

Humans make you sick – to think he’s planning on roasting then eating you despite the soul fueling your spirit and the beating heart in your chest. But you’ve long known that all death but their own matters little to them – they don’t feel the same way nymphs do – they don’t regard life with the same respect they’ve donned themselves. It must be a sad and lonely existence, you think. It even makes you feel a little sorry for him.

You yelp when his gritty fingers brush the area between your legs – shimmying when he lowers his mouth down to the same place. Oh God – does he plan on eating you raw? While your body’s still hot and pumping blood?

But the bite never comes – not yet eating but tasting it would seem – licking and slurping and sucking on you.

He takes his shirt off. Probably to avoid spilling on it, you think.

You don’t really understand what’s going on until he’s got his fat manhood pointed toward your kernel-sized hole. Eyes wide as he splits you apart slowly and unabashedly – as though it isn't as deviant as a dog mating a cat – sinking in inch after meaty inch.

You whimper at the stretch – wincing when the plush mushroom-shaped head grinds against that special place inside you. 

It doesn’t fit more than halfway, but that doesn’t seem to bother him – rolling his head back with a rusty groan, even with just the tip gaining purchase within you – pounding into you like a beast in his rut.

“What's the matter, pretty nymph? Did you think I was gonna eat you?” He laughs, bearing over you – his hands steadying your hips to meet his sharp thrust – each hit deeper than the last. “I’m the only hunter in this forest; I can eat what I want when I want – but eating you?” He scoffed and snickered. “That would just be a waste.”

The blood on his breath makes you wrinkle your nose – squeezing your eyes shut as his tongue sweeps up the tear streaks on your cheek.

“My stomach’s already full. Time to empty my balls.”

#yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #yandere gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere satoru gojo #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen headcanons #gojo headcanons

[yournowheregirl]

Let it be known that Eddie Munson hates big box stores. They represent everything he’s against: a big piece of capitalist bullshit that underpays its workers and pump out unnecessary products like it’s nothing. 

And yet, he finds himself in a Target on a random Sunday evening.

He’s not quite sure how he got roped into doing Chrissy’s shopping for her, something about ‘owing her a favor’ and ‘making up for all the times she had take out the garbage when it was his turn to do so’ or whatever that means. But here he is anyway, pushing a bright red shopping cart in search of every item on her list so she can go on her date with that girl from the concert in peace. The things you do for friends.

Eddie finds the first few items quite easily - they’re on sale and easy to spot with the big display in the middle of the aisle - but once he gets to the fourth item on her list: Fresh Cotton scented candle, he starts to panic just a little.

Why are there so many fucking candles?

He rubs a hand over his face in attempt to make himself focus on the rows and rows of glass jars in front of him, taking a deep breath before he starts looking for the Fresh Cotton scented candle Chrissy wants. Only to find out, there aren’t any.

There is Pure Linen and Natural Cotton and even one that’s called Laundry Day - whatever the fuck that’s supposed to smell like - but there is not one candle that says Fresh Cotton. 

Okay. Okay. He can do this. He knows Chrissy like the back of his hand, he’s smelled that candle practically every day, he can totally figure out which candle she wants. 

Eddie grabs the first candle that’s vaguely named after a fabric and smells it, but that one isn’t the one he’s looking for. He tries another (closer, but not quite the same) and another (doesn’t even smell like cotton in the slightest), until he’s smelled practically every cotton-linen-laundry candle in the store and his nose has become immune to any smell whatsoever.

Christ, he really is a terrible best friend if he can’t even get her shopping list right.

Something red flashes by in the corner of his eye and Eddie immediately perks up and chases after it. He stops himself from screaming in victory when he sees that he was right and that there is in fact a Target employee in a red polo walking in the main aisle.

“Excuse me!” Eddie calls out. “Excuse me! Can you help me?”

The guy in the red polo turns around and whoa- Eddie didn’t know that they were hiring actual models to work at Target. He’s pretty sure he’s never met a big box store employee that looks this good - with floppy golden brown hair and a chest that fills out that red Target polo really nicely.

“Uh yes?”

“Great!” Eddie gestures the Target guy to follow him back to the candle aisle and grabs the two candles that he thinks are the closest to what Chrissy wants. “Which one of these is Fresh Cotton?”

Target guy frowns and takes the candles from Eddie’s hands, his hazel eyes narrowing as he reads the labels. “Neither? This one is Clean Cotton and the other one is Crisp Cotton.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But Target used to sell Fresh Cotton, I think, at least that’s what my friend’s shopping list says.” Eddie rambles. “So I guess my question is which one used to be Fresh Cotton and got renamed or whatever.”

“Huh.” Target guy shrugs and takes the lid off both the candles, carefully sniffing each of them before finally handing Clean Cotton back to Eddie. “This one smells the most cotton-y to me, so I’d go with this one, dude.”

Eddie feels his eyes light up with relief as he clutches the candle to his chest. “Christ, that’s a relief. Thank you...” He trails off, searching Target guy’s polo for a name tag, only to come up empty.

“Steve.” 

“Thank you, Steve.” Eddie beams. He puts the candle into his shopping cart and rummages through the pocket of his leather jacket until he finds Chrissy’s shopping list. Scented candle? Check. “Look, I gotta go. I have at least twenty other things on this list and- hey!”

In one quick motion, Steve has grabbed the shopping list from Eddie’s hands, scanning the items on the list and the items in the cart with precision. 

“Dude. Your friend asked for shampoo and conditioner. You bought them that two-in-one crap.” Steve scoffs.

“Is that... bad? Seems to me like it gets the job done faster.” Eddie shrugs.

“Is that bad, he asks. If your friend cares just a little bit about their hair, they’d be devastated.” Steve chuckles. “C’mere, I’ll help you.”

Before Eddie can even protest, Steve has taken his shopping cart from under his nose and gestures for Eddie to follow him. Huh, personal shoppers must be a new thing at Target. He just hopes that Steve doesn’t charge him a surprise hundred dollar fee at the end of the shopping trip.

Turns out, a personal shopper like Steve comes in handy for a Target virgin like Eddie. Steve (obviously) knows the store like the back of his hand and seems to know a lot about the products they sell as well - from the difference between normal and purple shampoo for blonde hair to the package of colored notebooks that Chrissy needs for the next semester. His knowledge is impressive and Eddie can’t help but stare and listen to every word that rolls of Target Guy Steve’s tongue.

(And if he lets a flirty remark or two slip just to see a twinkle in Steve’s eyes in between the shop talk, that’s nobody’s business but his own)

He is a bit confused when Steve starts loading things into the cart that aren’t on Chrissy’s lists, though. Things like highlighters and staples and various arts and crafts supplies. 

“What are those?” Eddie asks.

“Hmm?” Steve hums, following Eddie’s gaze to where it’s looking at the small pots of paint in his hands “Oh. Those are for me.”

“You can do that?”

“Uh yeah? That’s the point of a store?”

“Right.” Eddie nods. “Yeah, I mean, duh. Just didn’t know you were allowed to shop on company time.” 

“Right...” Steve blinks at him in response.

They go through the rest of the list fairly quickly, much to Eddie’s disappointment. When he first set foot inside the store, he wanted to leave as fast as he could, but now that he’s got Steve around, he doesn’t really want this shopping trip to end. 

At least not without Steve’s number saved in his phone. 

There are only a few people in line at the register when they arrive and Steve immediately starts putting his things on the checkout belt. As he waits, Eddie lets his eyes linger at Steve’s toned back, at the way the red fabric stretches over the muscles there, at the way those jeans look practically painted on.

Yeah, he really has to get that number before he gets out of here.

“You probably get employee discount, right? Must be nice.” Eddie grins as he starts putting his stuff on the checkout belt.

Steve cocks his head to the side. “No?”

Christ, not giving your employees a discount in your own store is a new low, even for a big company like Target. “Oh sorry, man. That sucks.”

“I mean, I have my teacher’s discount.” Steve shrugs.

Hold up. What?

“Your what?”

“My teacher’s discount?” Steve repeats. “I’m an elementary school teacher and I get a small discount on stuff I need for my class? Like these art supplies?”

“You- you don’t work here?” Eddie squeaks, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. Oh God, did he just drag a random stranger through a store and make him listen to all of his stupid problems with Chrissy’s shopping lists? This is embarrassing, even for him. “Fuck, I thought- I mean with the polo and- Christ, I’m so sorry.”

But luckily for Eddie, Steve doesn’t seem mad in the slightest. In fact, he just laughs, all bright and clear. “It’s alright, really.”

“But wait, if you don’t work here, why did you help me?” Eddie asks, ignoring the hopeful feeling that starts to bloom in his stomach. 

Steve ducks his head for a second, suppressing a grin, before looking back up at Eddie through his eyelashes and fuck, he has no right to look this hot in a freaking polo shirt. 

“Because I thought you were cute.”

A bright Target red blush settles over Eddie’s cheeks and there’s nowhere to hide, not even behind his hair because his dumb self from two hours earlier decided to put it up in a high bun. 

“Plus, you looked like you were this close to having a panic attack in the middle of the candle aisle.” Steve shrugs. “I’ve been there, and trust me, it’s not a good look.”

The honesty in his voice makes Eddie cackle so loud that even the cashier turns her head to see what all the commotion is about. 

“You’re ridiculous.” Eddie says when his laughter dies down.

“Maybe.” Steve says, his eyes already twinkling with amusement. “But did it work?”

Eddie really can’t say no to that.

(He leaves Target that night with two shopping bags filled with Chrissy’s things and a date with Steve the next weekend.)

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #i have never set foot inside a target so excuse my europeaness for any mistakes #they're idiot4idiot your honor #alice's writing adventures

[thisfanisgonesorry]

groupie love — hobie brown

guitarists dont get as many groupies as you’d think they do. 😮 

tags: smut, vaginal sex, mirror sex, hairpulling, hookups go crazy, dom/sub, teasing/praise kink obv, creampie bc i forgot the condom at home, brief cockwarming. bro is a lovesick idiot fr. possessive as HELL. porn w feelings kinda? infatuation? idk theres feelings! im mentally ill! pussy so good that hes down bad! consent is sexy tho.. parasocial relationships arent

(but it’s so hard sometimes with the star when you have to share him with everybody; and i know what you’re thinking of, you want my groupie love)

🕸️

One thing led to another and he was leading me through the backstage entryway, his arm draped over my shoulder as he walked with a pep in his step, filled with adrenaline and trying to get it out of his system in ways that didn’t end in him pouncing on me. (Though admittedly, that’d be short lived.)

Backstage was mostly empty besides a few select crewmates who overall didn’t seem too phased by my presence. Hobie greeted them as he walked past, as if he knew each one personally. The rest of the band had seemingly dipped, and weren’t too worried about Hobie being missing from wherever they’d gone to hang out.

“Li’l lady wants to check out the green room.” He winked at one of the crew as he continued, dismissing them to give us space. The green room was nice but it wasn’t his destination in mind. He stood there for a minute, looking down at me briefly, before spinning dramatically and pushing his back against the dressing room door, sliding in and pressing me against the wall in a fairly smooth action.

“Don’t think anyone saw that?” I muttered out quickly, it was more of a question as I really didn’t see much from the spin itself, caught a little off guard by the sudden movement and unable to process much until I was pinned firmly against the wall. The dressing room was small, and he took advantage of the fact.

“M’hm, no.” He shook his head, leaning in slightly. “Nah, y’re all mine.” He continued.

His hands lingered on my waist, his fingertips reaching under the fabric and restraining himself as much as he could as he felt the soft skin underneath.

“You seem energised.” I laughed softly.

“I’m fine, jus’ got my blood pumping. Was a good show. Can I kiss you?” He spoke quickly to the point where if you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed it. There was a short moment of silence where the air hung heavy as he waited, oh, how he waited so very patiently.

“... Yeah.” I nodded.

His patience ran thin, and his lips harshly made contact with mine, almost pushing my head into the wall. What a way to get a concussion. He groaned into it for a moment, enjoying the taste and licking my bottom lip slightly. My hands loosely hung around his neck, 

“Bloody ‘ell...” He muttered, pulling away and going down my neck. His free hand reached to the door, locking it before anyone could walk in. He was kissing and licking my neck, letting small bitemarks dance across the skin.

He began tugging at the hem of my shirt anxiously, wanting to just strip me bare, bend me over, fuck my brains out, but all in due time.

“Doors soundproof.” He commented. “Let me—”

One arm was wrapped around his shoulders, grabbing a fistful of the leather jacket and tugging on it to beckon him forward as the other grabbed his hand, pushing it closer. In hindsight, it was kind of sweet how certain he was letting things be.

He quickly removed my shirt that had his own band’s logo on it, throwing it to the floor and fumbling on the bra, running his large palms over the fabric. I leaned forward to kiss him again and his hands dropped to my hips, hastily (and harshly) dragging me to the dressing table, pushing me up against it. 

Our lips were reconnected once again, though the kisses were messy. My arm was still around his neck, my other on his chest. His hands began to slightly shimmy down my shorts and he moaned into the kiss. “S’pretty, darlin’, so..” He mumbled breathlessly, pulling away enough to let me kick off the shorts (albeit, struggling to because of my boots) and for him to shrug off his jacket. Both articles disappeared somewhere into the room to be determined later.

My hands lingered to his hips, reaching up and feeling his toned abs from under his shirt. “Y’so hot, Hobie.” I moaned back, feeling the way his stomach tensed under my fingertips.

“What? like ‘m not meant t’be fit?” He tried to joke as he palmed my tits again. 

“Didn’t mean it like that.”

He only responded with a laugh, kissing my neck and collarbone as he removed the bra, thrown to the side and his hands explored downwards in an attempt to remove the last of clothing.

“This aint fair.” I breathed, seeing him still fully dressed.

“Yeh, I know.” He responded, taking his shirt off, another piece lost to the room.

He ended up turning the light off, so the only light in the room was the one radiating from the mirror itself. He looked good like this but I guess that was the point. His face was flushed, it would be hard to tell otherwise if it wasn’t for the heat that it was giving off, you could literally feel it from across the room; his eyes were hyper focused and his lips were swollen slightly.

He leaned forward to kiss me again. “Y’re so beautiful.” He groaned.

“I was about to say the same thing.”

I reached down boldly, my fingers twitching to unbutton his jeans, to pull the zip down, to—

“Y’re gonna hurt y’self.” He joked, swatting my shaking hands away. “Touch yourself f’me.” He asked softly, trying to speak clearly despite his otherwise dishevelled behaviour.

I slid my fingers between my legs, toying with him as he watched between kisses. 

“C’mon, darl’.” He purred sweetly. “Work y’self open f’me, please?”

He swallows the moans that leave my mouth as I push my fingers inside, weakly thrusting as he continues to kiss me, hovering over me as he palms his hardness through his jeans.

“Hobie, c’mon.” I groaned, getting impatient with him. All he wanted to do was toy and tease me; holding me closely as his eyes scanned my naked body like a piece of meat, kissing as much of the flesh as he could, longing for the taste and feel under his lips.

“Alr’, alr’.” He drawled finally.

He pulled away enough to create distance between us, we both stood in anticipation, catching our breath slightly as he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zip. The jeans themselves were grungy, and his dick freed itself from the tight confines as quickly as it could, shimmying the jeans down to his thighs.

“No underwear? Anarchist goes commando?” I asked breathlessly as I continued to work myself, yet finding humour in comparing him to a militia.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Y/n. Don’t.” He warned.

“You go pantless just in case some pretty girl would fuck you tonight?”

I poked my tongue out between my teeth, biting down on it slightly, wanting nothing more than to be testing my luck with him. He grabbed my wrists, removing my hand from my insides and holding the sticky, shiny fingers up. It looked filthy in the bright light, he tutted slightly before licking the fingers clean, grinding his hard cock against the slick folds.

He held both my wrists in place, making it impossible for me to fight him with the movement of his hips, he was careful that he wouldn’t accidentally push himself into me, whether or not that accident was with his own free will or not. He was enjoying this, the torturous nature of it all. Yeah, definitely don’t talk back to him.

“Feels s’good like this.” He tried to speak clearly; “Could jus’ fuck you like this, yeah? Cum all over y’r cunt, don’t even go in?”

“I’m sorry.” I quickly spoke when I realised he could just stay like this.

“You’re sorry?”

“Please, Hobie, fuck me real good. I’m sorry, didn’t mean it.” I pleaded, though he could tell the words were only half hearted.

He tried to laugh but it got swallowed into a groan. He threw his head back and released my wrists. “Yeah, yeah. C’mon.” He spoke, finding amusement in it. He hissed slightly at the loss of contact as he turned me around to look in the mirror, bending me over the dressing table.

His breathing quickened as he admired the view of me bent over the table, elbows supporting my weight and my pretty eyes looking up at him through the mirror. He swallowed thickly, still grinding lazily against the wetness as he tried to shimmy his pants down further, they got about a little past his knees before getting snagged on his boots and he realised that it wouldn’t go much further than that.

“Ngh.. Fuck, y’so good.” He struggled out, a low moan erupting from his throat. “Gettin’ m’cock all nice ‘n’wet.”

“Hobie, I’m sorry.” I threw my head forward, not wanting to look at our reflections. “Fuck me, please, want you.”

“I know.” He groaned as he aligned himself. He gave a harsh tug on my hair, forcibly making me look in the mirror. “Look. Watch.” He panted.

He slid his thickness deep inside in one slow, stuttery motion. I watched carefully, my mouth fell open and my eyes threatened to close. His eyebrows knitted together and his mouth mimicked mine, falling agape.

“Oh my fucking god.” I moaned out, unable to hold my head up but quickly felt the tug on my hair as he held my limp neck in position.

He buried himself completely, “Look at how I’m stretchin’ you out, y/n, my darlin’.” He grinned lopsidedly.

He began thrusting slowly, watching the faces that I made, his eyebrows stayed knitted like he was focused on my expressions and nothing else.

“So good, Hobie.” I muttered, my head threatening to dip forward if it wasn’t for his grip on my hair. I tried to squirm away from him and his grip on my hip got tighter. “So big.”

“Yeah?” He spoke condescendingly, relishing at the way I felt around him. “Y’ve been dreamin’ about this, haven’t ya’?”

“Mhm, all the time.” I moaned quietly. “Fantasise about y’so bad.” 

“I bet’cha always wondered how good I’d feel buried deep in y’cunt.” He commented, picking up his pace as he felt the warmth swallow him perfectly; it wasn’t necessarily rough or fast, but the size of his cock as it nestled all the way in was almost too much. Almost. “The real things s’much better, ain’t it?”

“Ah! Yes!” I cried, reaching back to push at his hips.

“Takin’ me s’well, darlin’.” He groaned, not letting up. He wasn’t being relentless but the position and the harsh pound of his cock was all too much at once, I closed my eyes tight and he fought the urge to give another harsh tug on my hair.

“S’deep, Hobes, baby—” I groaned, though it was immediately followed by pathetic whines which completely diminished the point I was trying to make.

“Why y’pushin’ at me, sweet thing? What’s wrong?” He teased, knowing damn well that there wasn’t the faintest of an issue.

“So deep.. So big. Slow down.”

“What? Y’don’t think y’can take it?” He joked through slurred speech, giving a particularly harsh thrust.

“Mhm!” I jerked forward with a whine, then feeling the harsh tug on my hair as my body pulled away from his tight grip.

“I think y’can take it jus’ fine.” He continued teasing, still desperately nudging my insides. “M’pricks too big f’you, ain’t it, darlin’?”

I shook my head weakly, keeping my eyes glued on his face as he fucked me from behind. “No, mhm— I can take it.” I struggled out.

“Y’doin’ s’good.” He slurred with a groan.

The audible wet sounds began to fill the dressing room and I could do nothing but let out a pathetic whine as I could feel the sticky liquid make a mess on both our thighs. The slickness was making it easier for him to slide in and out, using it to his advantage to fuck into me even harder. It did nothing to ease the slight slapping sound, and if that door wasn’t soundproof like Hobie claimed, we were probably being louder than the show itself was.

I shook my head weakly, jerking forward at his movements and taking whatever he would give me. “So good. So deep. So big.” I rambled, the only words that my brain could come up with at the given moment.

“I want y’to watch, darlin. Look at y’r pretty face as I fuck you.” He spoke, knowing I wouldn’t be able to open my eyes in the slightest, coming across like nothing but a cock drunk groupie whore, though I guess, it wasn’t far off. “Y’re basically droolin’ for me.”

“Keep talkin’ to me like that, holy shit, make me cum.”

“Eyes up here. On me. Y’got it.” He praised, his harsh tugs became more gentle as he got more stern in keeping my eyes on the view. “Keep lookin’, c’mon, darlin’, look. Y’re s’beautiful. All f’me, look at ya. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

His voice began to ramble, whines and groans leaving his throat at intervals. 

“I’m trying.” I mumbled out; “It’s hard.”

“Darl’, ‘m not gon’ keep tellin ya’ to keep y’head up.” He moaned, removing his hand from my hair and rubbing figure 8’s right where I needed it. “Yeah, y’re gonna take it.” He panted, leaning over my body to press kisses on my shoulder and neck. “Take it, darlin’, doin’ good. Doin’ so good.”

I leaned my head back on his shoulder, looking down through half-lidded eyes at the filthy view of him fucking me into his dressing table.

“See? You can handle watchin y’self gettin’ fucked like a good girl.”

“Hobie, ‘m gonna cum.” I moaned, struggling to watch myself but worried that if I stopped, he’d pull his hands away from me.

“Watch y’self, good girl.” He praised again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Fuck, can feel y’squeezin’ me.” He whined. “Cum for me, darlin’, s’pretty when y’clench this big cock, yeah? ‘M stretching it out, y’gonna be so perfect f’me.”

I took a bite out of my knuckle as I felt it hit, he slowed down slightly but kept the movements methodical besides the gradual slowing as he praised me throughout it.

“Hobie—” I cried out.

The way I clenched around him made him harshly hold onto my hip, the moans filled the room loudly as he fucked me through the wave. Small purrs of praise were audible but it was almost impossible to focus.

“You right?” He rasped out, slowing his movements to a halt. He would’ve cum right then and there if he didn’t have half the mind to prolong himself.

“Mhm.” I hummed, dazed and confused. “Keep goin’.” I acknowledged, wanting to make him feel good.

“Wish I could fuck a pretty thing like you after all m’shows.” He spoke sweetly in my ear, thrusting up again for his own orgasm, it started slow but he increased his pace when he began riling himself up with ideas. “Tease y’before so y’re all wet and ready when ‘m done.” He laughed softly. “Y’can help me warm up m’fingers for the guitar.”

He spoke softly and calmly as he could, feeling the wetness twitch around him from overstimulation. He kept this slow as he could, knowing that he didn’t want to end things just yet. His dazed eyes tried to memorise every detail he could; hooking up with a groupie meant the chance of never seeing them again, his movements on my clit picking up too; he was desperate to bring me pleasure, he needed this just as much as I did, which was saying a lot.

I weakly tried to keep my head up, watching his face attentively, he looked completely dishevelled with need; something about this was driving him crazy but all I could focus on was how good he felt.

He started kissing my neck again before deciding to ask a question he knew I probably wouldn’t answer otherwise. “Why ain’t you got’a boyfr’nd?” He grunted over my limp body, feeling himself hit the deepest parts and watching me react to it. My vision would go white and I’d jerk into the feeling.

“Don’t want one. Only want you.” I spoke matter-of-factly despite my dazed demeanour.

“Fuck, Y/n, Don’t say that.” He choked. “Wan’ keep you all f’myself.”

I groaned, pressing myself closer against his body. His arms wrapped around my torso, pulling me to stand upright and my arms reached around to touch him the best I could, though his hand stayed glued to the pussy that he’d grown infatuated with.

“Y’re gonna be thinkin’ about this for a long time, yeah?” He breathed. “Gonna think about m’cock fuckin’ into y’cunt?”

“Hobie—”

“I feel y’gettin’ close again. God, want y’so fuckin’ bad.”

His hand took a faster pace than what it previously was, rubbing hard and fast circles into my clit, wanting to feel me be undone on him when he cums.

“Better than I could’ve imagined.” I panted in admission.

“Y’re.. ‘M right there.” He moaned. “Y’so hot, makin’ me s’hard. Gonna make m’cum.”

There was nothing I could do to respond besides lewdly take what he was giving me, nodding weakly and trying to watch the view in front of me. He looked so beautifully debauched, and feeling his ragged breathing against my spine was something I didn’t know I needed to feel, something I unknowingly longed for.

“Mhm, y’can stay wit’ us.” He nodded, as if what he was rambling made any sense. “Bring you along, keep you f’shows. Darlin’, you’d be my perfect li’l groupie..”

His pussy-whipped drunk ramblings sounded like a love confession as he neared his release, knowing he didn’t want it to be over so soon but desperately wanting to feel the warm, tensing tightness around him as he filled me as much as he could.

“I want you, I want you.” I nodded back, too cock-drunk to care. 

“Cum f’me, y/n, cum with me, need— Oh fuckin’ shit.”

He groaned as he felt the clenching of my walls around his hard cock, desperately wanting to take him for all he’s got. Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me is the only phrase that repeated in my head as I felt the twitching and nearing signs.

“Give it to me, please, give it to me.” I pleaded through orgasm.

His body shook with want and he forced his eyes to stay open, needing to watch this unfold before him in a weak attempt to convince himself that it was real. Keenly watching the way my face contorted as I came on him, my eyes barely open enough to see the way his face mirrored mine. He let out small pants and whines, before his hips pushed deeply, his hips stuttering weakly as he filled me with his cum.

I felt the warm liquid between my legs, throwing my head back and sighing as I tried to relax from the high. Beautiful afterglow; beautiful boy. He collapsed forward slightly, holding me in place but using one arm to support us.

“It’s a really nice tour bus. Don’t even need y’own bed, just sleep in mine.” He continued in a whisper, pressing a soft kiss into the sticky flesh of my neck, nuzzling the hair away.

We stood for a moment before he pulled a chair from the side of the dressing table, slowly sitting us on it and keeping the position, his arms wrapped around me tightly like he never planned to let go.

I squirmed at the feeling. “Mhm.. Y’think?” I laughed softly; not taking him close to serious.

His eyes were heavy and he continued to look at us in the mirror, an unreadable expression as he buried his head behind my shoulder, his eyes barely poking above the flesh for him to admire the view. “I’m serious.” He mumbled awkwardly before going to a complete whisper. “Stay?”

#marvel #hobie brown #smut #spiderverse #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x reader one shot #hobie brown x you #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #hobart brown #hobie x reader #atsv #atsv x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk #atsv hobie #hobie brown fluff #spiderpunk x you #hobie brown fanfic

[steddiealltheway]

Thinking of a coffee shop AU where Steve and Robin work together. They play this little game where they guess what a new customer’s order will be. To their surprise, Steve is accurate almost 100% of the time. Especially after he gets the hang of it, it’s like he’s a coffee mind reader - at least, that’s what Robin calls him.

The best friends spend most of their time chatting and occasionally Robin will ask, “Blondie who just walked in?” Or “Obnoxious purple tie, third in line?”

And Steve will answer in a few seconds, “Iced coffee, two shots of expresso, and three pumps of caramel… clearly a large latte with french vanilla and an oat milk substitute.”

Most of the time, Robin will make the order before the customer gets to the register. She’s learned to always trust Steve’s gut.

On a particularly slow day, Robin and Steve lounge by the machines, having cleaned them three times already. Steve steals a cookie from the display and gives half to Robin as they chat.

The bell rings and Robin nudges Steve. “What about him?”

Steve swallows. The man has long curly brown hair which rests over a leather jacket and some band t-shirt that Steve doesn’t recognize. His jeans are black and purposefully ripped at the knees, and his combat boots are well worn. The answer is obvious to anyone. “Easy, a large black coffee.”

For once, Robin hesitates to make the coffee, choosing to watch the interaction instead.

“Hi, welcome in, what can I get for you?” Steve asks with practiced ease.

Big brown eyes that were previously scanning the menu above now land on Steve, and Steve can’t help but pinch his leg behind the counter so he can get a grip.

The customer’s mouth opens and closes a few times, seemingly indecisive, which Steve finds to be a bit ridiculous because why would he want anything that isn’t just plain dark coffee? He doesn’t get lost in these thoughts for too long because the customer’s lips are a bit distracting…

“I’ll have a medium caramel frappe with whipped cream and maybe a bit of cinnamon on top?” The customer requests.

Steve freezes.

“Is that… okay? I don’t mind not getting the cinnamon if that’s a problem…” he trails off looking adorably flustered.

Steve clears his throat and reasons out loud, “This isn’t for you, right”

The stranger’s brow furrows. “Is there something wrong with my order?”

Oh shit. Yeah, that was rude. “No, no! Not at all! I just thought… well… with your whole look and vibe you would get something… not so sweet.” Fuck. He’s digging a bigger hole for himself.

“My vibe?” The man questions and luckily the crease in his brow is no longer there, and there’s maybe even a smile that tugs at his lips.

“A good vibe! Well, actually I thought you looked kind of scary. Not scary! Just… intimidating, man. With the leather and all black but it’s cool, dude.” Steve’s hands settle on his hips as he nods - at what, he doesn’t know, but he’s nodding. There’s a small kick to his shin that he knows is from Robin who is fixing the coffee next to him, but he’s going to refuse to look at her.

The sound of a lid snapping on the top of a drink container snaps Steve out of outright staring at the man now. Christ. Robin pushes beside him and slides the drink across the counter. “On the house to repay you for my coworker’s manners,” Robin says with a big grin.

“Oh, I didn’t mind really,” the man says, fidgeting with the large silver rings on his hand. Steve can’t tell if he’s imagining the blush on his cheeks or not.

“In that case, please come back and pray that Steve here can get himself together before then,” Robin says nudging Steve hard. Steve winces at the impact.

“Will do,” the man says, taking his drink and straw and walking out the building.

Steve buries his head in his hands.

“What was that?” Robin asks in a hushed tone although there’s no one around.

“I don’t know! I got his order completely wrong, and it threw me off!” Steve uncovers his face and begins stress cleaning the machine.

Robin laughs. “I haven’t seen you put your foot in your mouth so hard since Scoops.”

“Don’t remind me,” Steve begs.

“Well, at least you’ll never have to see him again because it seems like we’ve lost that customer forever,” Robin says with another laugh as Steve groans recalling the interaction.

It turns out that Robin is wrong though because he shows up again. The next day, in fact. Then the next… and the next… and the next… He starts coming more often than some of their regulars, and eventually he becomes one of them.

And every time, he orders something different. He’s gotten a hot latte, an iced latte, a cappuccino, chai tea, and even a hot chocolate. But everything he orders is overwhelmingly sweet - most times requesting an extra sweetener, and Steve has even seen him use extra sugar packets the few times he’s sat down inside.

A few days into Steve’s new favorite game of trying to guess the man’s new order, he finally gives him his name: Eddie.

Regrettably, Steve had gotten his name because it was a busy day and he had needed to. But still, he had his name.

On a particularly slow day with only Steve working, Eddie ends up being the only one in the coffee shop. Steve writes on a sticky note what his order will be because Robin isn’t there as a witness, and Steve needs some evidence in case he guessed correctly.

“Hey, Eddie, what can I get for you?” Steve asks with a smile.

“How about a medium peppermint mocha?”

Steve is going to tear up that sticky note and throw it away. He moves to make the mocha quickly, adding in extra pumps of mocha because he’s sure Eddie will want it sweeter.

When Eddie goes to pay and accept his coffee, he hesitates. He gives Steve a curious look and asks, “Why do you cringe every time I order something? Is it something I say? Or is it the order itself?” It comes out soft and curious rather than harsh and demanding which Steve is thankful for.

Steve says, “Well, it’s a long story but… here, I’ll show you.” He reached over and grabs the sticky note reading hot cappuccino, four pumps of caramel, and five packets of sugar and places it in front of Eddie who reads it over, throughly confused. “I guess people’s orders, and most of the time I’m right or I’m close enough that I’m basically right. But with you, I’ve guessed it wrong every single time. I just can’t figure you out.”

A small smile graces Eddie’s face. “Does that mean I’m special then?”

Steve’s heart thuds. “I guess it does,” he replies with grin.

“I’m glad,” Eddie says then winks at him. “I’ll be back tomorrow so you can guess wrong again,” he comments while turning to leave.

Steve chuckles, slightly flustered. “Looking forward to it, Eddie.”

“I bet you are,” Eddie flirts as he makes his way out the door.

Steve flushes bright red. Yeah, he definitely guessed Eddie all wrong, and he prays to continue to do just that so he’ll keep coming back. He knows one thing for sure though - Eddie’s drinks are about as sweet as him.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #steddie coffee shop au #platonic stobin #coffee shop au

[kennedybaby]

being chris and claire’s youngest sister who always turns to older leon for some comfort everytime she had a fight with her bf!!!! ヽ⁠(⁠(⁠◎⁠д⁠◎⁠)⁠)⁠ゝts is just a silly little drabble. . .

Word count: 1.385k / Warning: age gap, cheating, unprotected sex.

your girlfriend wants to be my girlfriend, she be calling me, telling me ‘bout you.

It’s wrong, hell, you know how wrong it is to run to your brother’s friend for comfort every time you had a heated argument with your boyfriend. You can’t help it, Leon just provided the right amount of attention at the right time to you. All you needed to do is whine into your cellphone, sniffing and wiping your hot tears as you pour your heart out about how your boyfriend and you got into a fight again to Leon and he’s quick to get on his motorcycle, revving his engine up and going straight to your home. You know it’s bad, if either Chris or Claire founds out you were fooling with their friend behind their backs, they would probably lecture you and make sure to create distance between you and Leon. Not only that, but if your boyfriend were to find out you’ve been letting Leon pound you raw every other night when you’re not staying at his place, he would be beyond livid.

But all those worries and guilt were thrown straight out of the window the second Leon have his head between your soft thighs, warm tongue lapping on your clit as his hands keep your thighs apart. The slick, squelching sound of his lips sucking onto your bundles of nerves while his thick fingers pump in and out of your pussy brings nothing but pure bliss into your head, easing your stress as your fingers intertwined with his dark, brown locks. Leaning your head back to your pillow, you can feel the dark stubble on his cheeks brushing against your inner thighs, the red marks of his fingers digging deep into the cush of your thighs was evident as he dragged a long stripe on your slit and up to circled your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“What’s this time?” Leon asked, the way he asked it was evident how this wasn’t the first time you hit him up in the darkest hour to come and comfort you. Not that he would complain, he’d do anything to bury his cock inside of you, a pretty, clueless girl half his age. But Leon knows the cluelessness you cling to was nothing but an act you like to put on for him and only for him. You know how wrong it is, to be cheating and could possibly ruin the friendship between him and your siblings— but you didn’t care.

And, neither does Leon.

“He's bein’ mean,” You breathed out, a small pout forming on your swollen, red-tinted lips as you looked up at him with dewy eyes. “He’s just not you, Leon,” Leon smirked at your words, planting a soft kiss on your clit and pulling his slick-coated digits out of your warm hole before he stands up from his knees to unbuckled his belts. “Of course, he isn’t, baby.” He chuckled softly, the sound of his leather belt and pants falling to the carpeted floor with a soft thud could be heard before he shifted his position, placing himself between your legs as his hands dips lower to grasp your waist. “You probably think of me when he’s fucking you, don’t you?” It drives you insane each time his voice drops an octave, lightly growling into your ear as you bit your lower lip back, bashfully nodding your head to his question.

“Fucking whore,” You couldn’t bring yourself to care only caring the way your needy cunt clenching around nothing each time he degrades you. “I’m your slut.” His smile widened before Leon lined his cock into your entrance, tapping on your sensitive clit with the tip of his shaft before he buried his cock into your small cunt. “Damn right, you are.” He hissed, a sharp breath emitted past his lips as the sensation of your velvety walls wrapped snugly around him, grazing against the prominent vein on the side of his cock with every thrust.

Leon enjoyed the risk as much as you. He probably enjoyed it much more than you, and to be honest, there’s nothing Leon anticipated your calls like a depraved man. For as long as you and him have been doing this, you have been calling him every two weeks in a consistent pattern. The longest you have not called him was a month before you hit him up again, asking him if he can come over to your house because your boyfriend was being a headache again. And he never once declined your offer, the second he sees your name displayed on the screen of his cellphone, he had already grabbed his key and stepped out of his front door.

It drives him insane and occasionally, he’d prayed your boyfriend fucked up big time so he can finally fill the spot as your boyfriend whether Claire or Chris likes it or not. Not that he cared, Leon wasn’t the type to give up things that easily and he surely isn’t giving you up sooner or later.

The sequence of shared moans and groans filled every corner of your room, accompanied by the sound of yours and his skin slapping against each other. You swallowed thickly each time he plays with your clit and your hardened nipple with his fingers, making sure your other tit isn’t left out as he invites the bud into his mouth before swirling his tongue around it. “W-want more,” You whined, your voice pitching slightly as you weakly kisses his jawline. Your arms around his neck bring him closer to your body. A gasp left your lips when he snapped his hips harder, thrusting rougher into you as your eyes shoots wide. “Fuck!” You cursed, back arching into his body as you practically let him use you like nothing but a dolled-up fleshlight. “You’re such a, shit, slut, you know that right? Begging me to come over so you can forget your boyfriend.”

“You’re my b-boyfriend now,” Your words were slurred, if he wasn’t so close to you, he would’ve assumed what you had just said was gibberish. Leon can’t help but laughed at you, burying his cock deeper into the warmth of your pussy as he lets out a shaky breath. His sweaty forehead pressed against your shoulder, hips jerking back and forth as he feels your body shudder every time he’s balls deep inside of you.

Leon fucking loves this risqué escapade the two of you created.

“Oh yeah? What does that make you, baby?” He coos into your ear, the pace of his thrusts gradually growing harder and rougher as each minute passed, leaving you breathless and squirmish under the older man. “Your girlfriend!” You screamed, eyes tightly shut as your freshly-manicured nails digs into the flesh of his shoulder blades. The wooden bedframe rapidly slammed against your wall, creaking under the weight of the two of you. The overwhelming pleasure creates a knot deep below your stomach, threatening to break each time Leon abused your sweet spots to their limits. He knows you’re close to cumming, your eyes losing focus on his face, your cunt clinging to him for its dear life and your breathing grow ragged.

“Gonna cum, L-Leon.” You managed to speak between your hiccups and moans, looking back into his eyes as he hungrily pulled you into a sloppy kiss. “I'm finishing inside, okay princess?” He smiled once you nodded, his thrust going sloppier before the two of you eventually come undone, breath hitching as you hold onto Leon tighter. You can feel his cock shooting his warm cum deep inside of your pussy, stuffing you full before he pulled out to salivate over the sight of his cum overflowing out of your abused hole, dripping down to your ass as lay there, breathless and splayed open for him to admire you.

His work of art.

The sound of your phone blaring your ringtone caught the two of your attention. Leon walked over to your table, grabbing the cell phone before he smirked upon seeing the name of your boyfriend displayed on your screen. “Wouldn’t want to make your boyfriend wait now, would you?”

how you ain’t hitting it like you ’posed to hit it. you slipping, i think it’s time i slip in, dog.

have thoughts abt re men or cod men? send it to my way! (im begging, i literally have the nastiest thoughts for these men) (ﾟ⁠οﾟ⁠人⁠)⁠) no proofread on this one, we going raw like leon. (but pls ignore if theres any grammatical error, im begging u)

#infinite darkness leon #infinite darkness #leon kennedy x female reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s. kennedy #leon s. kennedy smut #resident evil smut #tw. cheating #tw. age gap #inspired by girlfriend - heavyweight #this was very self indulgent #need leon to have gray hair so i can called him a silverfox lol (⁠‘⁠◉⁠⌓⁠◉⁠’⁠) #im weak for older men #older leon kennedy #n

[beanmachine69]

Backseat | Carlos Sainz x Reader.

Content Warning: SMUT!!! PURE SMUT, MINORS DNI!!

(blurb, because i couldn't control myself)

-

"Oh, you're taking it soo well." He cooed, fingers still pumping in and out at a relentless pace. Your wet sounds filling the confined space you were in.

It was hot, it was so hot you could feel his sweat mix with yours as it dripped onto you. You could feel the sweat between you and the leather seat. You didn't really care, the pleasure being too distracting for you to even attempt to care.

You could feel it again, the desire climbing higher in you, the need bubbling in your stomach. Your legs were going to give in soon, you knew it, his fingers felt too good, pumping in and our and in and out and in and out and in and out- till he abruptly stopped, earning a whine from you as your back involuntarily arched up.

"Enjoying this a bit too much, hm?"

He brought his fingers to your mouth, hooded brown eyes locking contact with yours. He did this so often, it was practically second nature to him, almost odd when he didn't do it. But he was earlier this time, he didn't let you finish before he made you taste yourself.

The heat and darkness of the car, the proximity at which you two were at, the heavy breathing, the sweat, the pants, the abrupt pause of pleasure was all too much. You took his fingers in, moaning as he thrust them in your mouth like he would thrust his dick.

"Carlos, please." You begged, his fingers still in your mouth when you'd finish sucking them.

A smirk was his reply, his lips crashing on to yours, replacing his fingers. His hands grabbed on to your waist as he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue invade your mouth. He needed to taste you in your own mouth.

Your hips thrusted upwards, needing some contact. Despite being crammed with him in the backseat, you still felt like you needed more of him, every inch of him practically. You could feel his hands move from your hips, thrusting on to your upward jutting hips with his own, practically dry humping you.

You could feel it, what you wanted so desperately, you could feel it through his jeans, each aggressive thrust making him hiss a little at the contact. His hands were on your thighs now, peeling them open as he let his right hand find it's way back in you, making you moan even louder.

His lips crashed back into yours, tugging at your lower lip when he pulled away. He let out a few shushing noises, reminding you that you both were fucking in the back of a car in a slightly busy parking lot.

His ring and middle finger returned to the original pumping pace, while you felt the pad of his thumb press circles on your clit.

You couldn't contain the moans you were letting out, they sounded practically pornographic. His face was so close to yours, you could see, in the dim light of the car, how his eyes sparkled as you moaned his name.

"Good girl, just like that." He whispered, not attempting to muffle your moans with his own mouth anymore. He liked hearing how good he made you feel. The car was tinted and wasn't his signature car, so why care if anyone from outside heard what was happening, not like they'd care. Plus, he was too engulfed in making you feel good, he had lost sight of rationality. Your moans deafening him to any sense or logic.

It was building up again, that familiar feeling, bubbling in your gut. He leaned lower to kiss your sweaty neck, sucking and nibbling on it as you came closer and closer to your high. He nudged your head with his own so he could gain access to the spot between your ear and jaw, clamped his mouth on it, and began sucking.

It didn't take much long after that till you felt your high wash over, eyes rolling back, legs shaking under his, hips thrusting upwards, mouth left agape and whimpering his name like a sinful prayer.

He moved his mouth from your neck, slowly pulling away slightly as he let his fingers slip out of you. His eyes on your face, watching as the pleasure dazed over your face. He watched as your plump lips mumbled his name, how your eyes looked over at him through half shut eyelids. He could feel your chest heave against his, in an attempt to catch your breath.

He loved watching you cum. He loved it, he loved how fucked out you looked, how your brain would be empty of all thoughts, your mouth full of his name. He loved the way the sweat on your forehead would keep your hair messily in place, he loved how your hands would wander over to his chest, to his back, pulling him for a kiss. You looked so sexy to him, he could barely restrain himself.

His wet fingers made their way to your mouth again, gently slipping in as you sucked them clean, swirling your tongue around his fingers like you would his dick.

He pulled away, pulling your dress back in place and squirming his way back to the drivers seat.

"Come on cariño, we have to go home." He chuckled, turning back to you, "I have things I want to do to you."

.

.

.

A/N: I'm sorry if it was bad or abrupt, just a thought that popped in my head lol, this man makes me feel things.

#carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz blurb #f1 fic #f1 #f1 smut #carlos sainz fanfic

[dreamgrlarchive]

A Prissy Girl’s Guide to Fall

back by popular demand, i’m here with another prissy girl guide! this post is a bit late for the fall but it’ll allow you to finish the season off in a pretty fashion, and transition to the winter smoothly. i’ll be discussing the look i’ve been adorned in as of late and my fav products i’ll be using for the spirit of fall! 💓

what’s the look this fall?

the look this season is “divalicious barbie.” voluminous hair, tapered square nails and fur details + neutral color palettes. add in a few pops of pink and some sparkly detailz and you got my look this fall. “sexy chic.” i’ve been really leaning into the vibe of a runway supermodel diva emulsion. as you may have seen, my birthday outfit drew from many inspirations, focally the early nineties alaia runway shows. just immense glamour, class and girliness with a healthy dose of sexy.

“it's officially fall bbys. uggs, tracksuits, sew ins are in”

“in are warm scents, fur, leopard prints, brown lip gloss with voluminous blowouts for the fall to enhance my diva essence!”

- @realprissygrl on twitter 🎀

first and foremost…

the weather is turning so a lot of us are catching colds. take care of your health and rest. protect your immune system and dress according to weather. i almost always get sick around late september/early october and its because of the dip my immune system takes due to the change in climate.

preparation

some of you are in school like me. one of the reasons the fall is my fav season is because it’s time to get back to the basics. you should be developing new study routines around this time or perfecting the ones you have already

new school supplies + stationery. pretty girls deserve to stay stocked up on glitter ink and fuzzy pens

start saving money for the holiday season

get a handle on your halloween look early so not to scramble when the day comes

stock up on tea, immune boosters like emergen-c and medicine

start going outside in the morning to get the vitamin D and K you may lose out on as the seasons turn

set new goals and track them in a diary or planner

try to get well rested. the change from fall to winter can cause a lot of mood and energy complications due to lack of rest

essentials

a metallic pink starbucks tumbler or stanley cup

new books to read this season

chai tea and espresso for at home lattes + a pink thermos for travel (mine is a barbie pink micro shimmer one by starbucks)

hello kitty pencil caps and planners

velcro roller kit

super cute straw toppers

juicy couture laptop case for school

dry shampoo and clean paddle brush

pink ipad for productivity

victoria’s secret anything

cute hydrophobic jackets + umbrella

cute planner, i take my corset planner everywhere

clothes and accessories

warm neutrals + pink

layers, layers, layers! i’ve been pairing fur vests/cardigans, and sheer tops

cheetah and leopard print (yes they’re different lol) i’m going for the galleria chanel look this season

preppy looks! tartan, tweed and pleats have been such an essential for me on class days

cute little purses that are only big enough for your phone, lip gloss and keys. they come rhinestoned, fur trimmed or beaded and go very well with preppy lookz

chocolate brown accessories and layers

rhinestones and pearls add the perfect diva touch to any look

hoops 4ever

diamond studs for when your hair is pulled back, the prettiest detail ever

velour tracksuits

shimmery neutral pieces

feathers and gold jewelry to achieve that regine hunter/hilary banks aesthetic

fur trims on sheer tops

fuzzy trimmed half jackets

neutral toned designer tote bags

leopard print totes

blacked out shades

berets

sheer tights including tights with patterns like lace and stripes

ted baker arycon bags. they’re affordable and super freaking cute

fuzzy knitted pieces

knee high socks

cute little pumps + kitten heels

leather booties

uggs… obviously

medium telfar in either ballerina, bubblegum or gold

rubber boots with cute details like metal buttons or fur

furry moon boots

apple watch + charm bracelet stacking

beauty

brown + pink all season. cinnamon strawberry dessert girl

tape ins + sew ins or clip ins for a budget

soft matte makeup. not too matte (winter) and not dewy (summer)

neutral eyeshadow with a pink glossy lip

voluminous side parted hair with velcro roller curls OR

pin straight silk presses with a middle part

adequate moisture in hair is imperative to ensure hairstyles last long and stay sleek. if my hair reverts too fast i know it’s because its dry

sparkly hair clips

deep pink, mauve and berry blushes

lip balms like tree hut, summers friday and patrick ta

high ponies and half up half down stylez

long curly lashes. my favs are by kiss and lilly lashes or sold on amazon in the pink packaging

invest in a metal roller brush (ulta has super cute pink ones omg) OR a round brush blow dryer to add body to hair

makeup by pat mcgrath and patrick ta for sparkly lookz

beauty blender cleanser is my fav for cleaning my brushes

lip glosses + lipstick in nude pink, nude, deep brown, and baby pink

tapered square french tipz and nude nails

eyeshadow palettes with blacks, reds, browns, grays, and creams. my favs rn are naughty nude and new nude by huda, glam palette by natasha denona and the master mattes by mario

claw clips have been my fav for cute updos

warm scents with notes of wood, oud, musk, cinnamon, pastry, soft florals and brown sugar

smoky eyes + smudged liner + wings

#the prissy girl agenda #fall #dream girl beauty #dream girl fashion #dream girl journey #my posts #diva seasonz!

[pedge-page]

Plushies 6 - MooMoo

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Plushies Series Masterlist but Can be read as standalone

Summary: you surprise Joel for your 2 year anniversary by being the fuckable plushie tonight.

Warnings: literally 99.9% smut. Unprotected sex (she is on the pill but they’re playing with the idea of it failing), BREEDING KINK, pregnancy kink, plushie milk sucking (? You’ll see); nipple pumps, nipple play, nipple orgasm, boobjob, oral m-receiving, squirting, cream pie, belly bulge, no breastfeeding but Joel has a breastfeeding kink (obviously!), Daddy kink, spitting, bimbofication, lots of cow talk, praises you and degrades you, cringe ass language overall for these horny fucks

18+ ONLY

- - - -

It's getting pretty bad now that every time you see your pile of plushies in the room, your panties dampen. And you can’t really avoid them because Joel’s been adding to the mountain of stuffed animals with every excuse to get you a gift.

And then outright making you cum on them before he’s ripped the tag off.

You suspect Joel also gets equally as hard by them too, with all the interesting things he’s been sharing since starting your Plushie-sex journey. He’s pretty quiet and reserved any other time, even during regular sex. But when all your little beady stuffed animals start getting involved…

You’re startled by a gentle knock at the door. “You okay in there, sweet pea?” 

“Mhm! I’m almost ready!”

You both just got back from a fabulous date—ready to seal the night with passionate sex. And you’ve planned the perfect 2 year anniversary gift for him.

You stare in the mirror in your new “outfit” to surprise Joel’s loins: naked, save for a spotted felt ear headband, a leather collar with a big golden bell dangling from your neck, knee high white and black spotted stockings, and a slutty garter body harness speckled in black splotches. The straps dip and curve over your hips with cute ribbons on the waist, snaking under your soft parts, accentuating your breasts, tummy, thighs, ass—everything that Joel finds bitable. 

^photos + product by GlamourIsTheEndGame on Etsy

When you finally walk out into the bedroom with all the might your tiny little harness could muster, Joel’s eyes finally land on you. You smile at him with a sultry, pretty, and far from innocent smile.

"I was thinking maybe I could be your plushie for tonight,” you say, pushing your breasts out with your arms drawn tight, and shaking a little so he can see them sway and hear the jingle of the bell bounce over your collarbone.

Ok, so you know the scenes in Tom&Jerry where Tom sees a female cat, and his eyes bug out cartoonishly and jaw falls down to the ground?

Yeah, that’s Joel right now.

His jaw is so slacked it might unhinge itself. Eyes straining because they can’t go any fucking wider, and his pupils literally so blackened, you wouldn’t know he had baby brown eyes.  

You’re standing there very expectedly, waiting.

Waiting.

… waiting.

Say something you kinky bastard, damnit NowILookLikeAFool—!

Your nerves are starting to curl in on themselves...maybe you don’t look as sexy as you’d hoped...

“Um…if… if you don’t like it—I mean if you wanted to pick up a stuffie instead…”

The man takes advantage of your brief embarrassment and jumps you, shoving you against the wall and caging your legs around his hips.

“Oh!”

You whimper as the unmistakable bulge of his package presses hungrily, slipping past the little string and nudging your wet clit.

He glues his lips to yours, devouring your tongue. It’s extra hungry, extra needy tonight than usual. His lips twitch with the rumbling growl reverberating deep in his chest. 

“You’re so fucking sexy holy fucking shit baby-jesusssssss look at you— fuckfuckfuck I’m so lucky, luckylucky bastard—FUCK ME—you’re mine? You’re actually fucking mine????”

You giggle, confidence surging again as his hands struggling to grab every bit of you all at once. Holding you captive nonetheless, eyes raking over in wonder and astonishment.

“I’m all yours, Daddy,” you hum sensually. You grab his hands and bring them to curl along your harness, under the straps to feel your skin all hot and tingly. Begging for his touch.

“Happy fucking Anniversary to me.”

Joel scoops you up and sits on the bed, immediately having you straddle him. You grind down on his tent poking up between your cheeks. His fingers dig into your thighs when he feels the flutter of your folds.

He knows you feel as sexy as you look. 

“Gonna be my cow slut tonight, huh? You know what good little cow sluts do?”

“Suck cock?” You ask cheekily, preparing to sink down to your knees to pleasure him with your mouth.

He lets out a happy sigh. You’re ready to move, your teeth sucking in your lower lip, but he stops you, instead choosing to pin you closer to his body. His voice drops an octave:

“They birth and they milk.”

They—what? “Um—come again?”

“Breeding, baby. That’s what we’re doing tonight.”

He knows you’re on the pill, so it’s not like you’re really trying to get pregnant…but the thought of getting knocked up tonight sends a particularly dangerous chill down your spine. He never uses a condom so the chances are still….there. Every night. Each time he blows his fat load deep inside you; like a good little cumdump, he says. 

Why not indulge his fantasy tonight?

“You wanna breed me, Daddy?” You tease, hips swaying along his clothed member, dancing along your slit.

“Mmmm, yeahhh. Shit, baby. You’d look so good pregnant. And these—“ he grits his teeth, fingers pinching the straps that circle your mounds, watching them squish together, “—Are gonna fill up with so much milk, gonna feed me with your delicious cunt and sweet milk 24/7.”

You want to slap the smug look off his face, but now’s not the time. It’s time to get those pouty lips on your breasts and the cock in your cunny.

“Better start getting them open so I can satisfy that big thirst of yours.”

On cue, his lips wrap around your nipples, kneading your tits in his big rough hands. You start bouncing steadily along his cock. He’s domineering and digging into your skin harshly, teeth overly excited and sinking into your pebbled nips while he grinds up against your heat.

He’s biting and sucking so hard, asking-PLEADING-for your milk.

Milk that is definitely not there!

"Ouch! Joel I'm not going to give you milk, we’re just—playing—I’m not actually pregnant!"

But the THOUGHT of you exactly like this but stuffed full of a baby, just imagining your tits all round and belly bursting, the garter harness pulling tight against your skin and your tits poking out with that big heavy swell of your tummy making you look like his own breeding stock.

Desperate whines rush out of his mouth in a string of babbling: “I can get ya pregnant, please? Pleasepleaseplease darling let me put a baby in you— breed ya so good, just look at ya, could get ya knocked up, just think how cute you'd look gettin' all round with my calves grown in that tumtum. Fuck! what a sight, showing off to everyone our hard work breeding, evidence of our love making, and these titties would just swell n get all heavy with all the creamy delicious milk ya could give me like the best momma n—“

Your palm splats against his mouth to shut him up. “Slow down, cowboy. We aren’t having a real baby any time soon. We don't even live together yet..."

"Then move in with me,” he proposes without hesitation.

You …blink for a moment. His mouth hovers over your breast again but you drag him up to look you in the eyes—so you know he's not just fucking around.

“Really?"

"Yes! Why the fuck do we still have separate homes? I'm here all the time anyway. Plus, takin' care of all those plushie pets must be exhausting on your own, they're partially my kids anyway so.”

"You really want to live together?"

"Yeah. Yeah I do.” 

You and Joel were a ‘take it one day at a time’ trusting kind of love, but right now as you stare into his heart-shaped eyes, you can see your whole future together. The kind of earth shattering reality that’s never been more clear and more desirable than this moment. 

“I—“

“Don’t gotta give me an answer right now. Wanna ask ya again when we’re—less horny. So you know I’m bein’ serious.”

You grin and kiss him.

“Show me a good anniversary night and I’ll give a good thought-over.”

“Oh babygirl,” he tuts. “Think you were gonna be the only one showin’ me a good time? I got ya something too, sweetheart. Gonna go perfect with ya cow slut theme ya got goin’ on.”

You don’t know what he could possibly have that could “match” your very specific cow themed sex outfit—

Unless its more cows.

So when he sits you on the bed, stumbling over his shoes because he can’t take his eyes off you, Joel equally surprises you with a box of cow themed gifts—little calf beanie babies, which are conveniently jerry-rigged to two separate nipple pumps with their little snouts pointing towards the  suction cups, and a cow plush toy that has a compartment in the top to pour milk in, complete with rubber “practice” utters for farmer kids to learn milking.

“I swear, I had no idea you were gonna be dressed as slutty cow momma for me. I just—saw this shit online and thought my girl needed to be drinking some cow titties when I fuck her swollen cow tits.”

“We’re so in sync,” you muse, shaking your head with an amused smirk. 

Its honestly should be... kinda concerning.

He sits back next to you on the mattress, shoving some of your animals off the edge. You instinctively crawl atop his thighs again, and his hands settle once more protectively around your waist. You stare down at him, his sinful lips practically begging to get sucked while that lidded lustful gaze lulls you in a trance. The Joel Miller spell is wordlessly working on you again—and you know you’re gonna be cracking and doing anything this man says within a few shorts minutes.

You beam at each other tenderly, unable to help the genuine happy crinkle at your lips as you kiss him softly.

Then it starts:

"Can ya moo for me?"

You roll your eyes. Not quite doing anything he says so soon.  “Fuck no I'm not doin that shit again for you. You want a farm, go get one yourself."

"Please Angel?" He plants wet kisses along your jaw before giving two fat ones on top of your breasts.

"Still no."

He groans, but continues to nip at your breasts like a scolded child. "Can I fuck your big mommy milkin' cow titties?”

“There is no milk!” You snap. You’re ready to throw the whole idea away, but his persistent hold around your waist and cock nudging your throbbing puss is making it difficult to resist him for long.

His big brown chocolate lab eyes bleed into your horny little soul. “C’mon, MooMoo, for Daddy?” 

“I am NOT your MooMoo—“

He jingles the bell dangling from your neck. “Ya’sure sound like my MooMoo.”

you clench your fist around his shirt and take a deep breath. "Fine, Fine! Whatever."

"Say it."

"You can—ugh—fuck my big... mommy milking cow titties." You face feels so hot with embarrassment, but Joel purrs with such satisfaction that you feel even WORSE how much you don't hate it. 

Since when did the double entendre of being called his "kitty" and "puppy" when Joel fucks you and your animal themed plushies become his "moo moo girl"?

He grins with such a dirty, perverted look about him. Continues to kiss over your mounds, massaging the muscles in your back so you don’t notice when he bends over you to grab his homemade breast pumps.

He looks at you sideways with expectant hope in his eyes. 

You roll your eyes again. Of course he can’t just get a normal titjob and blow his load in your mouth. There’s always some fucking thing else you gotta do. But with the way his cock pulses under your drooping pussy, you decisively snatch it from his hands and get to work just so that he’ll call you his slutty cow again. 

“That’s my girl,” he groans, rubbing along your hips excitedly. He holds them in your hand and exhales hot air over the cups so they aren’t cold against your skin.

The clear tubes are narrow, obviously meant to resemble that of utters rather than actually breastfeeding from a bottle. You stick them on each tit, and very quickly Joel is pumping the little hand squeeze that starts to suction the small space of air into the connecting wire.

You gasp at the sensation. Slowing latching on, the small of your breasts are pointing inward towards the pumps, sticking up on their own now as Joel continues to suck the air out. 

You hiss a strangled moan. The sensation isn’t—bad. It’s like an invisible hand is dry vacuuming your pebbles.

“Fuck—fuck look at that,” he growls. “Your nipples are sooooooooooo fucking suckable right now.”

You look down and see their hardened state reaching out into nothing. As more of your flesh and tissue gets sucked in, pressing tightly, trying to fill the small space, the pain mixes with pleasure. Joel’s continually nipping at your chest with lidded eyes glued to the scene helps spread the multiple sensations your body is feeling.

“There’s not gonna be any milk,” you warn again, shifting uncomfortably in his lap. Your breath hitches in your throat when you get to a particularly suffocating phase of tightness in your breast.

He casts a sorrowful grin before yanking the pumps off together with a loud SCHMOP.

You screech unexpectedly, rolls of pleasure sparking through your chest, up to your brain then right down to your tummy and cunt, your eyes rolling back as you collapse forward on to him.

You’re both quiet for a moment save for your heavy pants. Until you feel a wetness growing on his pants.

“Joel—did you—?”

He laughs out, “No baby, that was all you.”

Your cheeks go warm in embarrassment, looking down to confirm that you had actually squirted onto his jeans just from getting your nipples suctioned.

“Didn’t know ya titties were so sensitive…” he goads.

You shake your head and nudge it into his neck—because you didn’t know you could squirt just from getting your breasts suctioned either. 

“Shhh, I know. I know baby, just breathe. Little titties are so sore, but we gotta get them ready to start feeding from. S’not my fault you’re just a little slut, so hungry to be a momma—don’t you worry, Daddy Bull is gonna make it happen. Ya can squirt your little juices all you want when I breed your cunt like my own personal livestock.”

You have half the mind to tell him again there is no baby to be feeding any time soon, and you sure as heck weren’t his livestock to be bred, and had nothing to say about "Daddy Bull", but with the harsh throbbing along your nipples, dragging sensitively against his cotton shirt, you don’t care to do anything else but drool and hump your weeping clit against his soaked thighs.

 “Let Daddy see his work,” he mumbles into your throat with a kiss.

You sit up again with his assistance. 

He groans heartily at the sight of your swollen, redden tips poking from your boobs. “Jesus fuck, MooMoo.” He rubs his thumb over your mounds and you wince away. “They hurt?” He laugh sadistically.

You cover your lips with the back of your palm, unwilling to let him see your delirious heaving. Your pussy throbs desperately for more his unique torture. “You….bastard…”

He soothes over the swollenness, groping your breasts and telling you how they’ll be sore like this all the time when they start filling with milk. How he’s gonna breed you so full of calves you’ll be bursting milk on your own, and he’s gonna lap it all up to keep you happy.

You don’t know why you keep letting him put the pumps back on. He doesn’t try to rip them off like before, but keeps bringing you close with tight compresses before letting air quickly filter in again. The little cow beanies bob up and down with each deep breath you force through your nose, eyes glittering up so innocently. You’re trying to ignore the equal throb in your untouched clit as the ones in your overstimulated perky nips.

Once they’ve swelled to a level of his satisfaction…

“MooMoo…”

“Huh…”

“Time for cow titty fucking.”

He throws you down on your back in the heap of your plushies. Wasting no time pulling his stiff member out of his jeans, he pumps a few times with one hand. Like a professional Joel wraps his belt tightly around your wrists, like a cowboy expertly tying his prize calf he just lassoed in. 

You twist your legs to hide the leaking drip of slick sliding down to your ass. Your head leans to the side, arms thrown behind you so you can see him, biting your lips and furrowed brows of want, admiring his physique when he pulls his shirt off with a satisfied grin. 

“Fuck me, cowboy,” you hum, shifting your bum up  and spreading your legs so he can see your swollen slit twitching up at him.

But he throws your legs down and cages you under him. “I’m makin’ a mess of those god damn Mommy milkers first. Then your cunt gets whatever Daddy Bull has left.”

DaddyBullDaddyBullDaddyBull, you chant in over and over again your dumb little cow brain...

Oh Christ, tonight’s gonna be wild.

You watch him crawl over your body, fisting his leaking member over your chest. You want it, licking your lips in anticipation, pushing your boobs together with your arms to entice him. He twists the bell-collar so its dangling off the side of your shoulder before placing his leaking tip right at your lips, smearing his precum. Moaning at that fucking taste of Joel you’d been craving all day. You lap at the saltiness, begging him to force it deep into your mouth, but all he does is rub it over your lips, your tongue peaking out to get it nice and wet for him.

His cock falls right in the valley as you smoother it with your supple breasts. “Soft titties all mine to play with? You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck them?”

He starts thrusting, suffocating his cock between your tits. With one hand, he’s pulling the harness roped around your body tight like he's riding a God damn horse, the other still possessively pumping the nipple suction cups so they squeeze harder around your precious tits. His balls rub along your sternum while he bounces his hips, rocking back and forth again and again, making a sticky mess of his arousal and your drool all over your chest.

"Angel, imagine how fucking good this is gonna feel when these pups are filled to the brim with Daddy's milk.”

You nod dumbly. “Want you to fill them, Daddy. Want you inside,” you moan. Your head leans forward as you try to suck in his tip each time it poked through your boobs. 

Joel lets out a shaky breath, trying hard not to blow his load too soon. Though the sight of your face and cowbell all sticky with his creamy spent has him drawing away quickly, a firm grip wrapped around the base to hold his twitching balls from releasing his seed just yet. 

You cry out, tongue chasing his retreating tip. 

“You ready to be my little cocksleeve plushie tonight?” He asks, raking his nails over your chest and belly, raised red trails marking you in their leave.

“I’m ready Daddy, fuck me like your dirty whore!”

He spits a fat gob of saliva right on to your slit before rubbing it over with his thick tip. You don’t need the extra lubrication due to how drenched you are, and the sweet squirting you did earlier, but oh how he admires the way it mingles with your juices and slides down your ass.

He rips the cow patterned garter ribbon from the waist buckle and wraps it around your calves, sticking your legs straight, and pulls your ankles taught. You’re completely tied off at his mercy, like cattle being tamed. He hoists your legs straight up in the air, his bare cock grinding against your wet heat.

"D-daddy!"

He leans your straight legs against his left shoulder and peers down over you: messy lipstick, bound wrists pulled together and straight to your stomach, pushing your tits even closer,  and the harness does nothing but give each one an immaculate show of perkiness. Paired with the tight press that the pumps are still holding your nipples captive.

He decides to show you some mercy by removing the tubes. He kneads their swollen state at the same time his cock rubs along your slick folds.

“T’Thank you, Daddy Bull,” you puff.

“Good girl. Didn’t even have to remind you,” he praises with gentle strokes of your cheeks.  “Your little calf babies are full now. Time for DaddyBull to spend time with Momma.”

You hope he doesn’t see the way your stomach clenches at being called Momma—a kink you’re shelving for much much later.

He’s got such stamina to be still gliding himself along your pussy but not penetrating just yet. Your brows are scrunched together in a plea and desperation, and those little cow ears are flopped back into the mess of softness. Softness that surrounds you, that innocent feel of cute plushy fur and cotton all rubbing against your body below you despite the numbing throb in your breasts and cunt. 

He puts his fingers in your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his digits, getting them wet before he’s drooping them down your puffy lips, down your breasts each with a squeeze, trailing warmly over your belly before coming to the place where he’s about to impale you.

Your entire body is thrumming with need.

He takes the moment to see how wrecked you already are for him—and to savor your body, knowing he’s gonna breed you so good one day and everything is gonna swell, like a stamp of ownership.

“You’re so fucking breedable,” he whispers in awe of your body. You don’t think he meant to say it out loud, but it turns you on all the more to hear his inner thoughts that would most likely scare away other women.

Not you though. You shutter at the thought of it taking, of making something evident of all the fucking and cum dumping he’s been giving you.

The pornographic gasp you let out as he slides his cock over your folds, between your squished thighs. Your slick lathering his length, prepping him and teasing your clit with long strokes. You whine as his mushroom tip glistens with precum, poking through your thighs then retreating. Getting your hopes up and holding it there sadistically.

"Don't gotta do nothin' tonight for me, sweet pea. Just gotta hold on for the ride."

You're not ready when he latches at your entrance and thrusts in all at once. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as he fills your gut with his fat cock, stretching you in the best way only Joel Miller knows.

“Ahhh--ah!—f—f—fuuuccccckkkkkkkk!”

Joel Miller does have a Bull sized cock. More evident now stretching your little hole than you’d ever truly thought before.

The position is so restraining, leaving you no way to move or adjust - just take take take take his pounding. You both groan at the sight of his tip ballooning in your lower belly with each thrust. 

He throws his arm over your straight thighs and thumbs over your swelled naval. "Fuuucccckk look at that, look at that!"

"S-ssoooooo deeeeeeppp," you wreathe, lips curling in delirium.

“Yeah-yeah babygirl, gotta stretch you—get ya ready to hold my calves huh? Gotta make room for them to pop out—“

“M—mnot—pregnant,” you rasp hoarsely, eyes closing when he starts angling his hips up and rutting along the gummy part in your cunt.

“I’ll make it happen, don’t you worry your little brain.” He laughs. “You like getting stuffed like your stuffies. Turned you into a proper fuck toy—mm—there we go—but you’re always gonna be my favorite toy to hump, to fill, to own." He forces each word out with each rut. “You’re so fucking good at being a soft whore for me to use, all precious and pretty on the outside. Just another one of these plushie sluts on this bed,” he grunts.

You stick your tongue out dreamily and smile, fingers getting lost in the scattered stuffed animals surrounding you with their soft, fluffy textures and hard or squishy bodies. 

It feels really good to have 0 thoughts and just get fucked like a cow plushie.

He kisses your ankles soothingly, almost pathetically attempting to distract you from the sudden lash of his palm slapping against your ass.

“DADDY—shit!” You whimper. He doesn’t love the way you instinctively try to squirm away from him, but with how tied up you are, continually impaled on his throbbing length, you have nowhere to go. 

He continues to spank you, the same spot, fingers splayed wide until his reddened print is left etched into your skin "Gotta brand ya baby, make sure everyone knows who owns this body.”

Lewd noises of wet skin slapping, and the little cow bell clanking on your neck fill the room along with your pathetic whimpers and Joel's repressed grunts.

"Yeah? You like daddy's bull cock ramming that tight little Moo Moo pussy?"

“Yea- ohh-f—fuck yes Bull Daddy, cock so good, fuck— nobody stretches me—ah shit!Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes—m’gonna be bred so fucking full Daddy fuck yes!”

“My little cow breedin’ bitch,” he hollers. He tears the cute little cow patterned bow from that had held your calves together and quickly parts your legs, shoving your knees up to his shoulders so you’re in full mating press. He continues thrusting aggressively downward. Despite still being bound by the wrist, your elbows part slightly enough to slot him between your arms, slinking your hands over his neck to bring him closer to you.

"Breed me!" You cry, literally cry. He doesn’t relent his rough thrusts despite cooing your tears welling.

 "Gonna take all that bull cum in your slutty womb? Gonna let me put a baby in ya?”

Your walls clench down on him harder in response. The more his thick tip nudges your cervix, the less words you’re able to string together in sentences.

He doesn’t wait for answer—doesn’t think he ever will because he’s dangerously dreamt of impregnating you for so long now, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop the day you said yes. Never bringing it up but fuuuccckkk he can’t stop his confessions from tumbling out: “Shit baby, might take this time. Lookin like my breeding stock n shit, gonna plow ya, you'll milk my cummies in your tummies and then—"

"Jesus Joel stop your yapping and FUCKME.”

"Ya gonna moo for me?"

You're moaning more, but with the way your sockets are rolled to their whites, arching up like the exorcist as he rams himself so deep its puncturing your belly, the sound’s eliciting from your mouth coming out as "mmmmmaaaauuuuhhhhhau-huh-hhuhh-huhhhh!"

He chuckles. "Close enough.”

He grabs the moo plush and shoves its utters in your mouth. You tilt your head to the side and your tongue circles around the rubber part. He almost busts his nut at the gorgeous sight below him: your pretty lashes closed as you suckle from the utters, each little swallow of milk going sown your throat. You're so delirious and cock drunk that you don't care about the trickles of cream dribbling down the corner of your lips. Your tits swollen and red, nipples so perked up they may actually start bleeding milk if he were to play with them any more, and your breasts bounce back and forth with each thrust, the jingle of the cow bell clanking loudly with no sense of tune but with all the hymns of his fucking he can give you. He snaps the garter belt strapped around you like reins, free ruling restraints that only make every bit of you even more voluptuous. Your legs are so strong, thick yet securely plastered together by his knot.

Your brows pinch together as your orgasm builds from your belly, making you arch violently against the pillow.

You pull away from the cow to take a gasp of air. Joel sticks his finger in your mouth and swirls it around. You hum in content, letting him make a mess of your drool and leftover milk spilling out, down your chin and cheeks with his thick digits. He yanks it out and licks it clean.

"Taste so fucking goo—“

"Keep fucking me with Daddys Bull cock fuck daddy I wanna get bred so fucking much wanna be your breeding little cum slut daddy fuck yes! You're so fucking huge, splitting my little moomoo pussy in half poundbreedbreedbreed daddy want all your cummies inside!"

"Fucked ya so dumb. All that ‘no baby, no milky talk.’ Shit! Fuck I'm gonna wreck this pussy, my fucking pussy! Nobody comes inside this sweet little womb but Daddy!"

"Just you just you daddy all yours please brand me make me yours! Oh-oh fuck Daddy yes! I’m cumming , I’m cumming so hard Daddy Bull fuck yesyesysssssyesyesyes!!!” you hiss through gritted teeth.

Your mouth parts as a silent scream is let out into the air. Joel keeps fucking you through your orgasm, his pained gasps while trying to remain sane with your convulsing walls choking his cock, sucking him in so tight he wouldn’t be able to pull out if he pried himself from you. He reaches between you to rub your clit, and your head thrashes about in overstimulation. Hard teeth latch on to your collar bone as you squirt once again all over his cock, streaming to his balls and soaking the bed and poor plushies caught in the crossfire with your naughty juices.

“There’s my slutty girl! Squirt that puss everywhere, want to stain everything with that cunt, my pretty cow girl.”

Joel’s whole body ruts into you like his life depends on it. The bed lurches violently against the wall, plushies falling over the sides like an avalanche while your battered soaked pussy takes the beating of a lifetime from the man who undoubtedly has ruined you and laid claim to your soul for the rest of your life. You hold on with the little strength you have left as he readies to empty his balls into you.

“Shit—shit—oh ff-ffuck baby—Daddy Bull is cummin—gonna breed ya SHIT oh baby,baby,babbyyyy gonna flood ya, you’re gonna take it? Gonna take all that cum—not a drop—haa-left—Gonna knock you up this time-mmmf—fuck! My good cow sluuutt—Baby give it ta me so good, Breed ya full o’me!FUCK!!”

With a final slam, Joel plunges his cock balls deep and shouts into the mattress, pumping his cum as deep into your womb as it could possibly go with thick, fertile ropes flooding every inch of space inside you.

He forces out each harsh, agitated pant into your neck, sweat sticking between the two of you. Your hips are held upright, walls fluttering with each pulse of his dick still unloading inside.

“I love you,” you whisperinto his ear, mind all hazy as you stroke his damp curls. He shudders, relaxing into your embrace, and you welcome the crushing sensation of his body on top of yours.

He pulls away to admire your barely conscious state: stockings all torn up, harness now tattered and  straps broken from their belts, the cow-eared headband snapped in half. Bruises and purple markings and love bites scattered all over your skin, your breasts the most damaged and swollen. He wonders how long it will take to fully heal, and how sensitive those little nipples are going to be for the next few days. Most importantly, he can’t tear his gaze away from the beat of your pussy lips struggling to swallow all of his creamy seed. 

You gasp out when Joel pushes his cock all the way back in, his cum spilling out the sides and coating you but trapping a good amount inside, leaving it nowhere else to go.

“I Love being your cow MooMoo plushplush,” you hum, wiggling your bum and holding him close. 

“How bout this one still?” He grabs the forgotten milker toy and brings the utters between the two of your lips.

Your tongue wraps around one utter and you start suckling the sweetness. 

Joel yanks the toy away.

“Show me.”

You open your lips so he can see the pool of milk filled to the brim, spilling over the dips of your cheeks.

He dips his tongue into your mouth and begins sucking out your split-mixed milk, kissing you passionately so you’re both gulping around each other’s tongues.

Drunk. You feel drunk off him. Off the milk. 

Eventually he pulls away so you can both breathe.

“I mean it.”

You draw away momentarily, wondering. it takes a moment to process anything that the two of you talked about while his cock still twitches in your cum-filled vagina.

You laugh when it hits you. “Yes, I’ll move in with you—“

“—You’re gonna look so fucking beautiful when you’re pregnant.”

You both pause for a moment before bursting out in a fit of giggles.

“Oh, I already knew that,” you taunt.

-

After you sleep for 14 hours straight, you wake up to find your tattered costume is gone, and your body completely naked. You don’t feel as achy as you expected—thanks to Joel probably massaging you in your sleep. Your cunt and breasts, however, are puffy and bruised as hell. You’ll have to restrict sexy time from Joel to just regular, Plushie-free fucking.

Speaking of, there’s an unfamiliar little guy on your bed right under your arm right now: yet another cow plushie, but it’s sooooo much softer, a bit heavier too. You turn it over and switch the little battery pack on, and the animal begins expanding and deflating with gentle breaths, its tummy warm and comforting against your body.

Joel comes in with a cup of tea  placed on your bedside before jumping on the Plushie bed. You poke his face.

“Whaaaat!”

"Joel, you know this is for babies,” you say, gesturing to the new cow breathing cow plush.

Right my babygirl.” He smiles proudly, stroking your face.

"No, like actual babies. It’s a breathing soother to help them sleep. Did you not notice what section you were in when you bought it?”

He looks ahead at the wall for a briefly, revisiting the memory. “Ya know what, that might be why the lady asked if it was for a girl, and I said ya my girl. N’ then she asked 'how old' and I told her ya age and she gave me a weird look.”

Your eyes squeeze tight as you fall back in a fit of cackles. “You were literally in the baby section Joel."

"Ain't all these plushies for kids anyway?” He gestures to the pink, purple, frilly, soft, funny faced squish stuffed animals you have on your bed. “What’s the difference?”

You switch the heavy cow animal on again and the cow starts slowly inflating then deflating with each breath. 

He gets all amazed like the marvels of today's technology far exceed his imagination. “Holy shit it got a real heart in there! No wonder it cost me 60 bucks.”

“Pretty sure a real heart would cost more than 60.”

“Mmm, cost me even more to keep yours.” 

You glance over at Tomm—ahem, Teddy—sitting upright in the corner of the room, the dildo still strapped around his crotch, and at Mr. Oinkers who’s jittery fun was sometimes too much to handle, and at Valentine Puppy that has a permanent white streak in his hair when you tried washing out Joel’s cum, and at every other plush on this bed that has occupied an ever growing space in Joel’s horny head below the waist.

“I don’t love you just cuz of the plushies, you know.”

“Oh? I’ll take them all back then, since ya don’t appreciate—“

“No!” You cry desperately. “I—I love them.” You cold your cow plush close and kiss his head.

 Joel curls up next to you and spoons your body. “But I love you too. Just you.”

He hums in agreement. “I know you do. Who else would dress like that just for fun?”

You cringe at the image of the destroyed cow garter that sits helplessly on the floor. Definitely cost waaaaaay more than $60.

“I can’t wait to move in,” you mumble into the pillow.

“Oh—about that.” 

You lean back and meet his gaze. Was it a farce? Did he not actually want you to move in? Was it jut to get you excited for sex last night? You already feel your heart shattering, knowing its gonna take more than 60 bucks to put it back together—

“While you were sleeping…I brought all my shit here already. Cancelled my lease this month and packed for weeks. Figured it be easier than making you have to pack all your little fluffy bitches in boxes—”

“Well they wouldn’t go in boxes, they’d be buckled up in seatbelts.”

“Exactly my point. Would have been a nightmare trying to move you.”

You slap his shoulder.

“Um… what if I said no?”

“Oh…” the thought never actually crossed his mind that you’d say no.

You laugh again, kissing his jaw reassuringly. “Kidding, Bull Daddy.”

He grumbles into your back and kisses the back of your head. His big meaty paws rub over your thighs, the little dents from the strap still ghosting your skin, trailing up over your belly that he can’t wait to see swell one day, even if not any time soon, and snaking up to your aching chest—

“Don’t you dare touch my fucking tits.”

10 minutes later, you catch Joel’s cuddling the breathing cow right next to his face, snoring soundly as it exhales next to him. you kiss the tip of his noses and burrow yourself closer to your sleeping giant.

It really does help babies sleep.

- - - -

Notes: this ended up being waaaaaaay longer than I thought holy heck.

Bonus of Joel x Preggo reader thot in the plushies saga

Permanent Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

#plushies!joel #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #last of us smut #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us smut #last of us fic

[cordeliawhohung]

pet!au part 4 | ghoap x fem!reader

simon goes shopping

cw: non-con, dark content, groping, oral (m!), non-con videoing, voyeurism, thoughts of violence

Department stores always had such a synthetic scent to them it made Simon sick.

It was the last place he wanted to visit after a long day of butchering animals and cutting them into palatable pieces. Yet there was something he needed, which proved difficult to find. Plastic was incorporated into everything those days — weaved into food bags and molded into anything one could think of. Cheap trash. Something that broke too easily, unlike flesh and metal. 

Needless to say, the brute looked at the rack of dog collars with disappointment as nothing but plastic and nylon stared back at him. Fluorescent reflective yellow, glittery princess pink — disgusting. They were poorly crafted, items that would fray and break within no time. Putting either of his pets in something so gaudy seemed inhumane, and his nose twitched underneath his mask at the very thought. No, he needed something more dignified. Something real. 

Thick-soled work boots hit the concrete floor with a dull thud as Simon rounded the other side of the rack. It took everything in him not to scoff at the plump purple faux leather collar that greeted him on the second row, but as his eyes meandered downwards, he finally caught sight of the good stuff. Dark cow skin tanned and conditioned into lovely leather. His knees creaked as he bent down and reached a hand towards one of the collars. Smooth, and it smelled leagues better than the synthetic shit a few rows above. 

Once he made his choice of a dark brown leather collar chosen just for you, there was only one more thing Simon needed to retrieve before returning home to you and Johnny. 

Your name. 

Simon wasn’t interested in the shaped cut tags the engraving machine offered. Dog bones, stars — all of it. Cliche. Annoying. Though he was certain Johnny would have rather you had the heart shaped tag, he went with a simple circle to engrave the name Bonnie onto it. Of course he knew your other name, your old name. The one on your lease and your driver's license. It didn’t suit you. And you were under his care, now. A new life demanded a new name, after all. 

As the machine whirred and whined in front of him, Simon snuck his phone out of his pocket. Several customers milled around the aisles behind him as he opened an app that sported a house-shaped icon and was instantly brought to a live feed of the rooms in the house. The videos illuminated in a grid on his phone, though the images were too small to clearly see the contents, he knew exactly where he could find you and Johnny.  

Clicking on the live feed from the bedroom, Simon nearly smirked when the video popped up on his screen. Johnny had you bare naked on the bed, head leaning over the side of the mattress as you laid on your back, legs flailing. Unlike earlier that morning, your shirt had finally been torn off and discarded next to the rest of your unnecessary garments, and Johnny pawed at your tits like the dog he was as he pumped his cock into your mouth. 

Had the audio been on, Simon knew exactly what he would have heard. Johnny’s pathetic grunts, and your gagging and panting as you struggled with the harsh angle your neck bent at. He scolded the man in his mind. The pace he set was too fast and brutish for you to get any air in, yet he didn’t listen to your pitiful attempts at non-verbal communication as you pushed back on his hips. 

That wasn’t his first round with you that day, and he figured it wouldn’t be his last. Simon had watched the cameras like a hawk that morning when he left for work and witnessed every second of Johnny fucking your thighs. Pathetic. Almost cute. So close to your cunt yet not quite the real deal. Had to make sure his pup listened to the rules, and while he was very close to breaking them, Simon was rather impressed with the man’s self restraint. 

He would have hated to get rid of you had his silly pup fucked you properly.

The machine in front of him beeped, signaling the completion of your freshly engraved tag, yet Simon’s eyes refused to look anywhere else but his phone. Johnny’s hips began to stutter, yet he pressed his cock so far down your throat he could nearly see the bulge of it. Your body thrashed as you tried to squirm from his grasp, but Johnny’s grip on your torso kept you pinned to the bed as his fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples. 

With one final thrust, Johnny sunk himself into you and threw his head back, and Simon could nearly hear the groan in his mind. His fucked out, mouth opened gaze trained on the ceiling as his spend trickled down your throat. Silly pup nearly forgot to let you breathe until he all but collapsed off the side of the bed, pulling his cock out of your mouth in the process. 

You sat up much too fast and collapsed onto your side as coughs rattled your body. Even through the graininess of the camera, Simon could see the spit and cum dribble down your chin and onto the mattress. A real fucking mess. One he wasn’t excited to clean up when he got home. 

Simon turned his phone off with a sigh before he retrieved your tag out of the machine. A large thumb grazed over your new name, and he pocketed that along with his phone before going to pay for your collar. 

The bold cashier that was unfortunate enough to serve Simon looked at him with his towering height, intimidating mask, and concerning choice of merchandise with what could only be described as faint disgust accompanied by caution. Simon doubled down on his cold expression, eyes screaming to the man about the ten different ways he knew how to butcher a human. Neither man spoke a word to one another as the item was scanned, yet Simon wished he had grabbed his knife instead of cash when he was asked to pay for it. Animals shouldn’t look at owners like that. As if he was a monster. If an animal wasn’t a pet, then the only look he should have received was fear. 

Instead, he grabbed the collar the moment the man took his cash, and he didn’t look back as he exited the store, even as the clerk called after him asking about his change.

#ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghoap x reader smut #pet!au #dead dove #f!reader

[diejager]

Tied down

Cw: BDSM, smut, NSFW, rough sex, public sex? It's technically outside with screaming ppl, teasing, pet name (bunny, bun), unsafe sex, creampie.

Wc: 1.2k

Collection masterlist

You thought the ribbons that flowed behind him were simply esthetic, something that added to his character, dark and ghost-like with the constant flow even when there wasn't any wind to pick them up. His whole attire was uncanny, something about how clean he always was before and after his kills, neat and relaxed he came back, shoulders low and singing a tune under his mask. The ribbons, however, always stayed bloodied, caked with brown and black stains, ripped from getting stuck to branches and bark. Although dirtied, it added to his phantom, a dark being that stalked and blinded his time until it was the right moment.

It made you jump at the sight of him, even the small glimpses of his mask or the ribbons tied tightly to him. He was patient, always was since you first saw him through the walls of the Ormond house, and he knew what he was doing, adept and nimble; knowledgable and cunning; silent and skillful.

Yet, somehow, the thought of him using the ribbons never crossed your mind, flowing behind him on windless nights, stalking towards his prey. You were his last one, having downed Mikaela, Dwight, and Bill, all hooked and groaning in agony until their time ended. He caught you by the arm, a tight grip promising bruises the next day, and dragged you to the secluded side of the map. He pushed and kept you against the stone, stomach flushed against the rough surface with your ass grinding against his hip.

You stayed still, listening to the ruffles of clothing and a hiss-like sound from leather rubbing leather. He was taking something off from what you could hear, leisurely taking off his attire. After a few seconds, hands - his gloves were off, he threw them on the floor - ripped your arms from the stone and forcibly bending them back uncomfortably.

You groaned out his name, squirming under his unyielding grasp, shoulders pushing back to lessen the strain on your arms. With one arm steadying you, his other tied a leathery string around your forearms, cold, ripped, and scabbed: his ribbons. Your eyes widened, at the rough texture that covered the cool cloth.

"Wa-wait- Danny-!" you cried out.

The image of being tied up and left to the mercy of Ghostface felt dangerous, yet jarringly exciting. Your face felt hot, your body warm and bothered, his rough handling from the start had you rubbing your thighs, trying to ease the tingling in your groin.

"Either this or rope, bunny," his distorted voice whispered in your ear, singing a promise that would leave you more vulnerable to him.

You stilled, moaning lewdly when he ground his dented coat against your ass. He chuckled, deep and throaty at your cries, pulling back to hook a finger over your pants and push them down, admiring the wet patch on your panties with a tilted head and teasing voice.

"So wet already, and I haven't done anything yet."

Rutting into you, he watched you cover his dent - after having parted coat - slick, wetness leaking from your covered slit and soaking his stiff clothes. You looked ravishing from his view, bound and pressed down for him to use, at his complete beck and call if he wanted, but he preferred to push you enough to make you crack and comply. Your whines and whimpers, moans, and groans were all his to listen to. It made him so fuckin hard, to a point that it almost hurt to be confined inside his slacks.

He hastily unzipped, pulling the string of his boxer lower enough for his cock his spring out, slapping the coolness of his loose belts and coat. The freezing air of the forest made his cock twitch, tip angrily red and dripping precum, he was so excited that he could come at the mere sight of your squirming and whiny figure if it wouldn't make him embarrassed.

He pumped his shaft, spreading the pre over his whole length, and squeezed the base, he rolled his head back with a groan before guiding it to your covered slit. He slid over the silk, nudging at your folds and sliding to your ass. When you huffed and arched your ass towards him, he gripped your hips to still your movement, wanting to be in control - as he always did.

"You're a needy bunny, aren't you?" Danny rasped, staring down at your ass. "All right, all right, I'll fuck you deep and good. You want that, huh?"

He pulled the strap of your panties and let it snap back, your yelp sounded as good as the wet slap. He repeated it a few times, chuckling when you cried for mercy, for him to "please fuck me, Danny! Please!". He ripped it with a sharp tug, watching your silk lingerie hang from your hip as he inched closer, hot tip kissing the muscle of your opening. He thrust in with a quick jerk, groaning at the warmth and wet embrace of your cunt, head hinging back as he pulled back and slammed in roughly.

You yowled with each thrust, voice so high and breathy that he thought you'd faint; not that he'd be bothered with fucking your unconscious body. Your body bounced forward with Ghostface's strength, moans flowing through your mouth as you cried in relief.

He fucked like he killed, with passion and conviction, strongly and skillfully, he knew what to press, where to hit, and how to make you lose your mind. With a slight shift, he started pounding the sweet, spongy spot that made your mind numb. Where your hands struggled to free themselves from the leather and where your legs trashed, you froze, body rigid as you spasmed. His teasing made you so sensitive, so dumb just from the slight tilt of his curved cock to pound your g-spot, you came so quickly it was almost laughable to Ghostface if you weren't so adorable.

You hadn't even realized how soaked you made him, pants and boxer dripping with your slick and even wetter after you squirted over him. The squelch was so loud that he almost missed Mikaela's pained screech, absorbed by you.

"Shit- you're squeezing me, bun," he panted, pace becoming erratic as chased his climax.

His thrust became shallow but as deep and directed as it was from the start, shaft twitching and balls tightening. He came with bursts of cum, ropes covering your walls and flooding your womb as he groaned loudly, head bowed to your side to listen to your wailing mewls from being filled with warmth. He gave small, shallow thrusts, slow and careful with his softening dick to ease the soreness when you hissed.

He pulled away slowly, watching his cum ooze from your red, swollen folds, satisfaction brewed in his chest, seeing you fucked dumb and dripping with him. Using your fingers, he scooped up his cum and pushed it back inside, fingers knuckle deep. With a satisfied hum, he fixed his coat and belts over his pants and pulled your up so you'd look less ruffled and fucked.

"C'mon, bun, stay with me," he cooed, untying your hair and lifting you in his arms, shifting you into a more comfortable position. "The trial's over, we'll try something else next time."

Tired, you nodded groggily, brain tuning out everything but Ghostface's breathing that calmed you down.

#x reader #dbd x you #dbd x reader #dbd smut #dbd killer #dbd survivor #dbd fanfic #dbd ghostface x reader #dead by daylight ghostface #ghostface smut #ghostface x reader #ghostface

[drefear]

Back Stage

Miguel is a rockstar, you are his groupie.

TW: Unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, semi-public

You knew Miguel would be trouble, and you were so right. With sleeves of tattoos, and thick, brown hair, he was absolutely going to be your biggest weakness. How are you supposed to compete with that face? 

The way his hands moved against the guitar, just like how he could play you like a simple rhythm. 

His hand was your kryptonite, your favorite necklace. His words could make you melt. He was the exact stereotype for a pompous Rockstar, but he could make you beg on your knees and cry out for more. 

You’d been friends for a few months, mainly just having sex when he had free time. you weren't in any situation to be in a relationship and he couldn’t with his tour schedule either. It was the perfect set-up. 

That is, until you realized he’d ruined you for any other guy. 

His band, Spider Society, had a show in your town, which wasn’t too far from where he resided as well. your leg bounced with anxiety as he was opening for a band you loved, Falling Multiverse. You watched the crew organize everything and turned to see the rest of his band members walk out of a door that said ‘SPIDER SOCIETY,’ assuming that was their dressing room. Subconsciously biting your lip, you gulped down your anxiety.

It was like this every time you saw him. you don’t know what it was about him, but he always had you on the edge of your chair. your adrenaline was pumping so fast you could practically see stars. 

His red eyes caught yours, and then turned back to his bandmates as they spoke, as if you were just another speaker back here. your chest sank, knowing you didn’t affect him like he affected you. your blood thundered in your ears as he walked over to you once they finished speaking. His orbs fixed onto you and you were immediately intimidated, unsure of what to do with your body and instinctually holding your hands together in your lap. He grabbed one of the clasped hands and walked you towards the exit, as if rushing. you pulled down the back of your jean shorts and held your phone tight, about to drop it from his speed. 

The big guitarist swung a door open and you felt him pull you inside, suddenly chest to chest with him. He closed the door behind you and your brain finally registered that we were in a closet. A storage closet. 

“We have about 7 minutes before you go on and right now, you need to be inside you.” His voice ran through you like a shiver. Ok, maybe you did have a strong effect on him. 

Tugging your shorts down with the fishnets you had on underneath, he spun you around and pressed you up to the wall, your waist bumping into a box of cables. His fingers pulled your thong aside and slipped into you with ease, from how badly I’d already wanted him. A soft sound comes out of your mouth and you feel his free hand wrap around your face. “Shhh.” He hushes you and you nod, eyes rolling back a bit as his fingers curl slightly. He was wearing a t-shirt, ripped jeans, and a leather jacket, but the way he looked had you practically dripping already. His thumb rubbed your clit and you were gasping, biting your tongue so you didn’t expose you both to everyone on the other side of the door. 

you felt his hand move away from your face and start to unbutton his pants, the sound of the zipper adding anticipation to your mind. The already racing thoughts swarming your head had you almost bouncing back against him, grinding against the rough fabric in between us. you felt the head of his dick against you and practically jumped, never ready. 

He slipped in a bit and your mouth dropped open. you had to stop myself from making a sound, feeling his hand snake up your back and slid his fingers into your hair, pulling from the nape of your neck as you pressed your palms against the wall in front of me. you glanced back to look at him and saw him watching his dick disappear inside of you over and over, making the coil in you tighten to a dangerous point. A harder tug on your hair had your back arching to an almost painful point, making you whimper quietly and blinking back pleasure-fueled tears. His soft grunts pushed you over the edge, your legs shaking and barely able to keep you standing. 

your orgasm washed over you like harsh waves, throwing you through a mental hoop as you lost myself in the constant manhandling. You could feel his movements because more rushed and out of rhythm as he huffed and slammed into you from behind hard, riding out his orgasm as well and leaning his head back against the shelf. He continued to watch where our bodies met as he finished and slowly let himself fall out of me. As he caught his breath, you tugged up your fishnets first and glanced at him. 

“Just in time, and always what you need.” He whispered, pecking your cheek and pulling your shorts back up, letting you button them as he tucked himself back in as well and checked you over. “So hot in that, like always.” he smirked at you and nodded towards the door. “Ready?” 

“Course.” you added and fixed your hair a bit, just to not look too fucked-out. We both left the closet and met the fixed gaze of all his other band members, making you blush and him just laughing a bit.

tags: @honeypurply @leviathxns @crispypugfs @cheezit-luv3rr @miguelswifey04 @h34d1355 @dont-fillintheblank @izluvsyouu @cinnamoanlatte @berry-potchy @rosekyn @silveryclear @aupernatural-teenwolflover @hrhmimieucliffe @fairywitch2000 @c-lelo @woahhajime @thedevilssinner @astr0n0mywh0r3 @feather-of-the-moon @solstice26 @lovely-starboy @707xn @leleloll @lifewitquinn @ilovewanda2022 @moonlightflorence @okgenic @aki-vtuber @pleiadespoetry @ilove-thebadbatch @peachypizzicato @wjltlzk @censorboxb @sassysavagepeach02 @btszn @yokilemis @irvene @p1nkberet @fawkoff @justyouandme1726 @crispypugfs @obi-mom-kenobi @yehsehneeah @tofukiyo @cheezit-luv3rr @randomnesssssssss11111 @onlysharkz @willowsvalley @sophiphi @takingbigdump @ramunethejoe @snikttbub @alliwriteistrash @aspens-cove

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel smut

[astralnymphh]

⤹ okay but on the topic of vampire!ellie, which one do you guys personally like?? has nothing to do with what i'll write next, just a curiosity + headcanons. MDNI 18+ enjoy this free vamp!ellie brainstorming content with a random side of nipple fixation!

¨༺ ♱ ༻¨

teenage dirtbag vampire!ellie in a modern realm who can't stand being in her parents suburban hell born house, tired of their cockalorum and urging for her to engage more in the vampiric branch of her family. attend the parties, go human–hunting with the other blood–ingesting addicts, try this, do that. it all irked ellie the wrong way, made her psyche boil, cause all she wanted to fucking do was you. she craves only your blood, your taste, the metallic ribbons pumping your lifeline was like a goddamn nectar to her. and you let her feed, because you loved her. you let your meat sack of a body replace her breakfast, lunch, dinner– first and final meal.

that's why you let her move in with you. cause you fucking can. now, every itty–bitty token of her life tangles with yours on the walls. pictures and awards, a manifold of knickknacks cluttering the window sills, even her clothes tend to blend with yours– an illusive invitation for you to wear her clothes without the question ever pressing her lips apart. you both are madly besotted in each other. no denial objects to that.

and, fuck, this version of ellie is hot. fitted tanks absent of a bra– pale brown pierced nipples erecting the thin fabric into a small mound. gray wash skinny jeans that fit her lean legs well, waistband cruising nicely under that peek of a v–line, fraying at the ankle hems that contrasts into those battered up converse of a similar hue. oh, and usually cloaks her shoulders up in a sable leather jacket– with your name patched in. a jacket, so prized, alwaaays winds up hurled to some isolated and cimmerian corner of your room, purely cause she lacks the care to hang it up whenever she returns home in a scramble, fangs unsheathing for blood. her knees would find themselves pressing hard into the mattress beneath both of you, centering a large gully of weight where her half–unzipped crotch and your butt meet, thirstily rutting to the point of numbing your clit through the hard denim of your pants. her zinc button just kept pounding that shit, keeping you spread wide. while dry humping you, she'd moan and groan hot on your earlobe, fangs partial hooking on the rim, "mhh– fuck n' suck, babe– can i? fuuck.." 'fuck n' suck' was just some made–up code for, well, it should be obvious. times like those, where she intends to fuck her pussy rough on you without remorse, whilst drying your organs of blood.

ohh, but i'll write that in detail one day~

gothic vampire!ellie who lodges high on a hill, deep in the mighty fathomage of her grandoise palace, steeples scaping high into the howling sky– torn asunder by a network of lightning above. you're nothing but meat and blood, princess, a feast inside regalia. every freshwater pearl, every satiny reflection of light off your dress, only made your flesh more supple in her fluorescent fern eyes. those lucifer–damned pupils though, well, let's just say you can't even measure the green pool of her eyes anymore. dilating, big black saucers, ballooning the milken white away whenever she snags a glimpse of your blood. that phantom heartbeat of hers races madly, mad of love for that color. for that glisten of liquid. so divine, she thinks. a gulp bolts down her gullet when within a measly foot of you, or, more specifically, a mere gate between the two of your noses. how else is she supposed to store her cache of sustenance?

yes, that's precisely what i'm hinting at. a holding cell. dusty and decrepit, rats abundant skittering the stone ground, and you swore cobwebs began to web themselves in your hair– now loose and unbraided. that brute of a girl would crouch on the opposing side, dangling keys on a loop sat upon her finger, ploddingly wagging like a swinging great axe. taunt, taunt taunt taunt.. is all she would skip about and do. slip into your cell quickly and play with you. kitty–cornering you and blocking you in her arms, cooing how terribly sorry she feigns to be, for jailing you up and treating you like meat. however, tides turn, and so do emotions. could it be, the dracula upon the misty cliff– has fallen in love?

turns out, witty princesses with a snakish tongue and spit to spare really turned her on. fuck, even you cursed yourself for rending your guard and feeling a magnetic pull to that hunk of a beast, clad in her midnight black, puffed sleeves and collar drawstring shirt. finely sewn black trousers and shiny black boots, curse you, for finding something about that hellishly horrid outfit so handsome on her. there's– oh, this particularly noticeable asset tp her garb as well. the black dye was nearing translucency, and if you loitered your vision directly on her chest long enough, caught in the right cosmic light, you could see that waxen bosom and her nipples, light brown contrary to her vampiric skin. haha, how humiliating it was when she caught you staring at them as she stood in front of your sat stature, being so brazen enough to ask, "something caught your eye princess? shall i strip myself of this, then?" whilst her hands mindlessly tucked under the loose hem anyway, wringing the fabric over her head and banishing it aside. "here, feel my dead heart–" swirled her voice, thrusting her hand out to grasp yours, cold as the ice age, her mitts froze your wrists and yanked them forth, pressing them flat against her breast and swiping her thumb across your contrasting warm skin, leavening with excitement as you fondle. she stows her knee on the bed adjacent to your thigh, whispering, so.. so, hauntingly, "feel that? no pulse, no life, not a spark lives within me, dear." and it was nothing vastly far from the truth. beneath her erect nipple, was no beat. eyes widening to a moon, and lips parting to steal simply too much air, you shudder. was it fear, you shuddered for, or arousal? that's a tale, for another day.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras thoughts #vampire!ellie #lesbian #sapphic #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams x reader smut #tlou smut #ellie smut

[hobies-princealbert]

I’ll always push the Hobie and Stallion Reader Agenda

It’s what he needs like cmon Black Punk British Nigga in like hot ass Texas or sumn with his Tall Thick Ebony Chick

It’s a Vibeee it gives “you can’t handle allat” and yk he definitely can

GOT EM LEGS ON HIS HEAD CUZ HE LOVE TALL WOMEN♡

MWAH💋

punk! hobie brown x stallion! reader |

°• y'all met on while you were on a girl's trip in candem. you were getting rowdy with your girls at one of the alternative clubs that the area was famous for. the scene was mainly punk and grunge, so you in a pretty all pink track suit surely stood out amongst the sea of gray and black.

°• you remember catching sight of hobie staring at you from your peripheral. you thought he was cute, plus he wasn't the only person staring at you. most eyes were on you the minute you stepped through that door. i mean look at you, how could they not stare.

°• your body was decorated in dazzling gold jewelry that looked radiant against your deep brown skin. you practically were practically luminous. how could he not go up to talk to you.

°• you could tell he was a little taken aback at first. probably it was your height, you were pretty tall, especially in heels. or the fact that you were so confident talking to him. sure, you were a little flustered cause he was cute ( translation: he was one the most gorgeous men you've seen), and he was a smooth talker that's for sure.

°• you didn't really give niggas your number like that, but could make exceptions. and nearly two years later, you were glad you did.

°• you two were an odd couple to say the least but you were similar in many ways. you both freely expressed yourselves through fashion. he, with his black leather, silver chains and spikes. and you, with your bright colors, gold jewelery and bling nails.

°• you both admired this aspect of each other. hobie loved to add to your jewelery collection. he would craft or thrift any jewels that he think would look great on you. similarly you loved to help him customize his fits, line his eyes and paint his nails.

°• both expressive and confident in everything you did. quick to stand up for others and raise hell when needed. you had spunk to you, he loved that about you. you could be hot headed sometimes but he didn't mind.

°• standing side by side y'all looked like a couple of giants. y'all turned heads everywhere you went. hobie had this laid back stride, and you with your pointed steps and sharp swaying hips. someone even asked if you two were runway model. to which hobie joked that he was briefly one.

°• speaking of hips, you had a great ass. you knew, randos on the street knew it, and especially hobie knew it. the man was obsessed with your butt. anytime he passed by you expect a quick smack. wearing jeans, his hands are casually resting in your back pockets. one time you were in the club throwing it back on your man, and he just stared at it awe. he's never seen you ass move like that before, he swore blacked out a bit that night.

°• on the topic of throwing it back, y'all loved meg thee stallion. singing her shit word for word, stank face and all. throwing it back on each other while her music bumped all through the apartment. similarly you love when hobie put you onto his shit too. mainly riot grrrl stuff. you loved how pumped it got you.

°• you absolutely adored your punk boyfriend, and he surely adored you two.

#atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown x black!reader #☆° via writes °☆ #i tried a new font yallll

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Older Eddie x Reader

Smutty, slightly angsty mini fic, minors shoo, 18+

🖤

You shouldn't be here. You knew that. But after a final fight with your boyfriend Dominic you had come to the one person that you felt safe with.

Eddie Munson's reputation in the town proceeded him, he was the big bad wolf that everyone should stay away from, had woman eating out of the palm of his hands and didn't give a fuck what anyone though.

Eddie was your next door neighbour and you'd been intrigued by him from the minute you seen him.

He was also so fucking hot. Panty dropping hot, and you were having the best sex of your life with him for the last few weeks.

You knock on his door and he opens it, he's standing all smug, a giant smirk on his face. "What brings you here at this time princess?"

He knows what you're doing here he always knows but he's just teasing you, tying you up in knots with how good he looked. His messy curls are tied up in a bun and he's wearing those jeans that makes his ass look amazing, the leather jacket that you loved.

"Let me guess? Dominic was being an asshole and you came running to me to make you feel better hmm sweetheart?" he plays with a strand of your hair, it flusters you immediately. His touch never fails to send you in a spin.

"I really like being with you Eddie" you murmur and it's the truth. The honesty in your voice must throw him as he's quiet for a minute.

"You like how I make you come so hard that you almost black out. That I fuck you senseless and in a way that your useless prick of a boyfriend could never do ... and princess? It's my fucking pleasure" he murmurs and tugs you close to him.

He's so cocky, so sure of himself but it's not like he isn't telling the truth.

"Get on the bed sweetheart. When I'm done with you, you won't even remember that dickheads name"

...

Eddie moves to kiss your neck, uses his fingers to pleasure you, pumping in and out of your sweet spot and sending spasms of pleasure through.

He's made quick work of your clothes and thrown them on the floor, along with his jeans. His lips move down your body and it's like they are everywhere, burning into your skin.

It's been a few days since you were last here and you've missed this. The exquisite pleasure only Eddie could give you.

Eddie is in no hurry to rush any of this, takes his time as works you into a frenzy, has you so wet and mewling for him.

"Please Eddie, I need you" You moan and his brown eyes fill with amusement as he strokes your cheek, his lips hover over yours.

"Oh sweetheart you're so fucking needy for me, does your limp dick boyfriend get you this hot... No. Of course he doesn't" he chuckles.

Taking him by surprise you manage to end up on top of him. Straddling him and your hands run down his chest, moving slow and watching as his eyes fill with lust.

"So fucking beautiful" his eyes rake hungrily over you body and he dips his head down to your breasts and sucks, kisses and leaves gentle bites over them.

His thrusts grow more erratic as you ride him faster and faster, fierce kisses are exchanged and Eddie's head throws back as he moans. "Fuck that's it princess. I love how fucking amazing you feel"

When you come you almost see stars. Feel Eddie moan as he stills and spills into you, his thrusts slowing as he leaves lazy kisses over your neck.

🖤

It's a little while later and you're sprawled beside Eddie, boneless and just wanting to close the distance between you and be close to him.

But this isn't like that. You'd love to stay and cuddle, love to be with him like you want to.

Eddie gets up and stretches. "Have to head to Gareth's. Will you be okay seeing yourself out princess?" he asks as he gets dressed and you smile even if you don't feel like it.

He leans down and kisses you briefly then he heads out. There's a hollow feeling in your chest and you cuddle back into the pillow for a second, get lose in the scent of Eddie's cologne just for a little bit.

You get up and dress quickly, then leave but there an ache inside you that so badly wants this to be more. Does he even want that? He's made it clear that this was just sex to him.

It's obvious that it means so much more to you and you sigh sadly, you were falling in love with someone who had no intention of wanting anything more with you...

With that thought you head into your car with a heavy heart.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #older eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie smut

[pali-writes-atiny-bit]

Of Haircuts and Hyunjin

Pairing: Hyunjin x afab!reader (Y/N)

Summary: Hyunjin badly needs a haircut, and you're about to be his new favorite hairdresser.

WC: 1.95k

Content Warning: Intended for 18+ mature audiences, MDNI! Suggestive Content. Let me know if I missed anything else.

The rays of the early morning sun shine down as Hyunjin pulls up outside of his favorite salon, District 9. The exterior is a sleek and modern building with an interior design of black and white. You stand behind the cleric counter tapping away at the booking computer's keyboard. You've just opened, so you're the only one here. As he approaches the cleric counter you greet him with a smile and a small bow.

"Welcome to District 9! You must be Hyunjin. I'm Y/N and I'll be your hairdresser today. Do you know what kind of style you're looking for today?"

He confirms and gestures to his hair with a chuckle "I think it's time to cut this a bit shorter.” All through dance practice the previous evening his silky black hair had been falling in his eyes and sticking to the sweat trickling from his temples.

You smile again and laugh "I think I can handle that. Are you interested in any color?"

Hyunjin finds himself caught up in your laugh - it's so warm and sweet and it lights up your face. Your rich brown eyes crinkle at the edges and he notices you have the cutest lips with a perfect cupid's bow.

After a moment he realizes he still hasn't answered your question.

"Color? Hmm..." He ponders. He hadn't been thinking about color but he could be persuaded. "What would you recommend?"

You study him for a moment - taking in the fine planes and angles of his face - before turning and leading him back to the hair wash stations. "I think you'd look very nice with a deep burgundy color."

He follows you a few strides behind and takes in your outfit. You're wearing a sleeveless black turtleneck crop top and a free flowing red skater skirt paired with black over the knee boots. He can't help the fleeting thought about how hot you look.

Once you reach your assigned wash sink, you gesture for him to take a seat on the plush leather. He does as instructed and reclines back so his head is over the sink. You turn the water on and adjust the heat until it feels just right.

You have to lean over him slightly to thoroughly wet his hair. He looks up at you through his lashes and is startled to realize that he can just catch a glimpse of your underboob. It's just a small sliver of flesh, but it looks firm and perky, and delicious. His tongue flicks out to lick across his upper lip. He flushes slightly at the trajectory of his thoughts and squeezes his eyes shut hoping you don't notice.

He opens his eyes again as you turn off the water and glances up at you. You give him a smile before turning to pump some shampoo into your hands. As you work the shampoo into a lather you also begin to massage his scalp and it feels heavenly. He closes his eyes again and lets out a small sigh of pleasure as he melts into the seat. 

You smirk at the sigh, you know it feels good - the wash step is everyone's favorite part about a haircut. While his eyes are closed, you study his face closer. His face is absolutely stunning, and you notice a beauty mark just below his left eye. You also notice the remnants of the flush that painted his face as you leaned over him earlier.   He may be your client, but it seems that neither of you are immune to the other's charms. And that, that makes you want to make him feel better.

Continuing your massage, you begin lightly scratching your short nails across his scalp. A bolt of pleasure zings down his spine leaving goosebumps in its wake. He shivers slightly and groans softly. The feeling of your nails at his scalp is transferring directly to his cock. He struggles  to quell his growing arousal. After all, the hair salon isn't the place to pop a full boner. 

Eventually, you remove your hands from his head and Hyunjin almost whines from the loss. You turn the water back on to thoroughly rinse the shampoo out before pumping some conditioner into your hands and applying it. After a few minutes, you rinse out the conditioner and squeeze the water from his hair. You wrap his hair in a towel and then purposefully lean over him again before tapping his shoulder and letting him know he can get up.

He looks up and catches another glimpse of that tantalizing flesh before you straighten up. He subconsciously licks his lip again before moving to get up. He follows you to your hair cutting station. He could just be imagining it but your hips look like they have a little more sway during your steps - your skirt swishing teasingly.

He sits in the barber's chair and you fasten a cape around his neck before adjusting the chair to the proper height. You prepare your comb and clippers with a #4 guard and say "well, shall we get started then?" He nods and you begin running the clippers through his hair. 

He strikes up a small conversation with you while he studies you through the mirror in front of you. He studies the way that top clings to your breasts. The way your skirt flares out from your waist. He asks how long you've been a hairdresser. You reply that you've been doing hair for about 7 years now, that your family doesn't approve, and that this is your first month with District 9. That explains why he's never seen you before, he'd have remembered.

You continue your movements while engaging in his idle chitchat, the words flowing effortlessly. Once his hair is uniformly clipped, you switch to your pair of scissors for the finishing touches. You spin the chair around to work on his hair in the front and Hyunjin promptly finds himself face to face with your perfect breasts. The barber’s chair is set to just the right height - all Hyunjin would need to do is lean forward and his face would nestle straight between your globes. The ones that he was just admiring in the mirror. Instead, he takes in a steadying breath through his nose. Notes of jasmine, amber, and a hint of citrus invade his senses. You smell smell warm, sensual and inviting. Rather than steadying himself, his exhale is even shakier. 

You raise your arms to trim some uneven pieces of hair and your breasts rise with them. Christ. He groans to himself. He can tell you’re not wearing a bra, and if he’s not mistaken, he can see your nipples. Hard tips pressing against the ribbed material of your top. He can’t help but lick his lip again as he imagines what it would be like to take one of those points between his lips - his teeth. 

As you're trimming with your scissors, you leave the ghost of touches along the shell of his ears, and down the back of his neck. Brief and teasing, but innocent enough to be passed off as accidents. The feather light touches heat his skin andsend jolts of pleasure shivering across his body. Between everything - his thoughts, your smell, your touches - he’s rock hard in his jeans. He’s never been more thankful that the cape covers his entire lap. He wonders if you know what you're doing to him. (You do - and you love how responsive he seems to be).

As quickly as you turned him to face you, you spin him back around. You set down your comb and scissors and brush off any stray pieces of hair that remain stuck to his shoulders. You lean down and whisper in his ear “all done.” His brain seems to freeze as he feels your warm breath caressing his ear. Before he realizes it, you’re standing up straight as if nothing happened asking "what do you think? Have you given any more thought to color?"

His brain is still struggling to catch up. Did he just imagine that you whispered in his ear? He clears his throat and studies his reflection in the mirror. He thinks the hair cut is perfect and just what he wanted. He shouldn’t have his hair in his eyes for a least a couple months. After studying himself for a second, his eyes slide to look at your reflection. His hair might be cut, but he’s not quite ready to leave yet. He swallows and replies "the cut is perfect and I think I'd love to get some color."

You grin and excitedly reply "you want to go with the burgundy?"

He nods and you clap your hands and head off to mix the dye.

He watches you go with a smirk on his face. Just what are you doing to him he thinks. 

You return and apply the dye to his hair before setting a timer and leaning your back against the counter in front of him. You cross your arms, pushing your breasts together and up. After seeing them up close he wants to touch them so bad. To feel how they fill his palms, and to test their weight. He has to clench his jaw and his hands into fists below the cape before he does something that would be very inappropriate. 

You catch him staring and give him a smirk and wink. "Do you like what you see?" Your voice is low and sultry.

"Darling, you have no idea," he groans. You might have some idea you think to yourself.

You unfold your arms to push yourself up to sit on top of the counter. As you do so your skirt rises slightly. Hyunjin’s gaze tracks straight to the toned thighs that are revealed a little more. You cross your legs, allowing him a flash of your panties as you do. "Well, I like what I see too,” you say as you not so subtly look him up and down. He flushes slightly but meets your gaze. His twin orbs seeming to mirror the desire you feel. 

You spend the next 30 minutes waiting for the color to develop and exchanging flirty remarks. When the timer goes off you lead him back to the hair wash station. You know exactly what you’re doing as you take your final chance to lean over him. You take your time carefully rinsing the dye from his hair. 

Afterwards, you lead him back to the chair for a quick blow dry. As you fan the heated air across his hair, ears, and neck he can’t help but think of the warm air that came from your breath. He stares hard at your reflection while you work - thinking of this experience and all the things he’d like to do to you. Glancing at him in the mirror, you catch him staring. 

Turning off the blow dryer you place it back in its holding slot. You lower the barber’s chair to it’s resting position and remove the cape from around his neck. "Alright Hyunjin, if you're done checking me out, let's go ahead and get you checked out!" You grin at him and he smirks back, taking a moment to not so subtly adjust himself. Your eyes flick down to the way he grabs himself through his jeans. It’s your turn to lick your lips. 

At the cleric counter he hands you his sleek black card and you ring him up. He signs the receipt and leaves you a big tip. You hand him a copy of the receipt. At the bottom is a hastily scribbled note.

In case you want to do more than look ###-###-#### - <3 Y/N

A/N: Thanks for reading my second fic, y'all. I left this one suggestive but let me know if you'd be interested in a part 2.

Also, my requests are open and I'd love to hear your ideas!

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids ff #skz ff #skz fanfic #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hwang hyunjin x you

[bettyfrommars]

out on the highway

older!Eddie x reader

this is a mid-2000's little blurb where Eddie is in his late 30's/early 40's and ends up in Oregon for whatever reason. maybe this is even drifter!eddie. there are so many isolated gas stations and mechanic garages where I am, I think about this every time I am on the road.

wc: 770

It was a dark and foggy November night when you pulled over to the first gas station for 50 miles on your long trek to the Pacific Northwest. Only a sliver of a moon in the sky and very few visible stars, most of them obscured by bully clouds. 

The two pumps under a metal awning were well-lit, as were the modest mechanic garage and mini mart connected to it, but the rest of the surrounding land was nothing but agriculture fields with no other sign of human life to be found.  

Perhaps you’d watched too many horror movies and episodes of Forensic Files, but this place gave you the creeps bad enough to make you wonder if it might be better to chance your luck and see how far you could get on fumes.  

You opened your door a crack, enough to stick the toe of your foot out, and a song from the newest Arcade Fire album Funeral blared from your speakers, just before you turned the ignition off.  You were about to get out and pump your own gas, because that was what you were used to—but then there stood a person, mere feet away, and you sank back, ready to slam your door, feeling suddenly threatened.  

The person in question was a man in light blue coveralls, with the added warmth of a leather jacket and black, fingerless gloves.  He had dark, wavy hair, just long enough to tuck behind his ears with two silver hoop piercings in one lobe, and there was some type of tattoo design peeking out of his collar on his throat.  His eyes were dark brown and kind, and you couldn’t help but notice the thin scar that pulled down the skin of one eye and made it droop slightly.

It took you an extra second to realize he had a cat with him.  The orange and brown calico teenager was perched on his shoulder and he steadied it with one hand to keep the feline secure while the tail swished behind.  The hand that held the cat was slashed in white scars, decorated in chunky, silver rings, and the fingernails had chipped black polish on them.  

He stopped abruptly, not wanting to scare you, not when that eastern side of the state had too many similarities to the scene of the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre.  

“Sorry, hi, I’m Eddie,” he opened the palm of his free hand and spread his fingers out in a bit of a Spock greeting to let you know he was safe.  “And this is Yvette,” he added, gesturing to the calico cat that he gently lowered to the ground.  You both watched her sprint off to the garage and through a tiny door that had been cut in the sheet metal.

“Regular or super?” He asked, clicking the pump handle off the port before you could get out and do it yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind—-” you were about to step down to do it yourself.

But then he chuckled softly, realization dawning.  “You can’t pump your own gas in Oregon,” he let you know in a patient voice, avoiding your eyes.  “I have to do it.  It’s the law," and at that last bit, he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, of course,” you gave a ‘silly me’ laugh and crawled back in behind the wheel to shut the door before rolling the window down.  You gave him 20 bucks, and then you watched him from the side mirror as he stood there making sure you got what you paid for.  He was humming a song; one you couldn't place.  

“So,” you spoke up, sticking your head out of the window.  “How long have you lived here?”

He worked his jaw as he checked the rolling numbers on the gas tank, tucking a hair that escaped to his cheek, still never looking directly at you.  “I’ve been here a while,” he said, vaguely.

You stared at your steering wheel for a bit, until you heard the pump click to let him know your tank was full.  

“Thank you,” you said out the window.  He cleared his throat and said a gentle, “you’re welcome”, as he twirled your gas cap closed and snapped the shield into place.  You watched him head back into the garage, with several cats circling his feet.    

You spent the next several miles on the desolate road wondering about Eddie, why he looked so familiar, and how he’d ended up in such a po-dunk town.  You wondered about him until you were sleepy and had to pull over at a roadside motel to get some rest.  

You weren’t very far from the gas station, and you wondered if he would still be there in the morning. 

#Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson hc #older!Eddie munson #mechanic!eddie