#armpit stubble

[kdotgvo1]

[tomofscotland]

[diceboy01]

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[alt-ai-guys]

[stayatsam]

fromsoft character creation is already better to me than any other game’s because it lets you be hairy

[rustystars]

love tv. love when characters like bart who are full on social outcasts (no clean clothes/doesn't brush hair/kills everyone she meets/hasn't had a real conversation in 5+ years/sleeps outdoors) have waxed pits & no body hair

[dashiellqvverty]

tbh i don’t believe ppl who say they shave bc leg hair gives them sensory issues or whatever bc *i* actually get sensory issues from shaving so like. what is the truth.

[kdotgvo1]

[tomofscotland]

[simpingresponsibly]

Isn't chest hair soft?? /Gen

Generally yes, although like most types of hair, it depends on the person :] often curlier hair is coarser but Dream's chest hair is probably quite soft based on the rest of him

I think George is more likely to give him beard burn from motorboating the dritties than the other way around (sensitive nipples dream is another conversation we can have)

[alt-ai-guys]

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, yandere, f!reader, bondage, abuse, punishment, intense spanking/whipping-ish

gn reader

“Please- plea- m’so- sorry-” You sob, voice cracking on its own blubbering. Chest full of panic – heaving for a fix but achieving little less than spurring even more hysteria.

“Haah…” He sighs. Casually fixing your bonds tighter around your wrists, hoisting them a little higher above your head until you were properly stretched up on your tippy-toes.

Shivering in just your undies in anxious wait of his anger.

Stroking your back while holding your belly in a steady hand, he thinks he’s never felt fear quite like it, but unfortunately, “Y’broke the rules, Sunshine… and now yer’ gettin’ punished.”

He unbuckles his belt. Your eardrums burn at the crisp sound, so much spiked blood rushing about, making you go dizzy. 

You think you might pass out.

“What did I say the rules were, hm? ‘You remember ‘em?” He mumbles in a steady tone, speaking awfully softly with his lips pressed against your temple. Waiting for your answer.

You give a sob and a pitiful nod, and he hums in return, rubbing calm circles into your shivering, goose-fleshed skin.

“Recite them for me.” He requests, nose rubbing your hairline as you shiver from his touch.

Voice unsteady, filtered through tears and a hopeless sense of terror – chin tipped up, needing to gasp for breaths. “N-no fighting, no- no arguing, no run- running-”

“Mh…” He hums, taking in the scent of your shampoo with a sniff of your crown, placing a kiss there as though in kudos – or as a small mercy before getting started. “And you managed to do all three in one night. ‘You feel proud, hm? ‘You feel accomplished? Hm? Was it worth it?”

You whimper under the interrogation, feeling smaller and smaller by the second – so exposed where you are, practically hanging from the ceiling like dead meat. Stripped of everything that might’ve protected you – or that would have at least cushioned the coming onslaught of pain you knew to dread.

“Nah… it’s written all over your body. Goosebumps and cold sweat, shaking from tits to toes. You regret it, don’t you?” He murmured, winding his belt around his fist once, then twice, leaving a looped tail. “Mh, maybe you’ll think twice about it next time... or maybe you’ll finally learn your place.”

He finished with a soft bite to the chub of your cheek, then grabbed your chin just as gently, holding your face up to look at him as he sidestepped to your front. Leaning his forehead against yours, he stroked your jaw with his thumb – lips hovering just short of yours.

“I'm gonna hurt you, Sweetie.” He purred, stroking your asscheek with the cool leather in his grip – in such gross contrast to what you knew he planned on using it for. “I promised I would, and now I will…”

He kissed your lips then – slowly, sweetly – suffocatingly so as you cried – tasting your tears and doing a terrible job at withholding his grin as you felt it pull giddily at the corner of his mouth.

He licked his lips once he pulled away, walking a circle around you like a shark.

“How many hits do you deserve?” He mused. “I guess one for each rule you broke is fair, but it seems a little scant…”

He stopped behind you, placing a chaste kiss on your arm before nuzzling around it.

“Should we say thirty?” He offered, and your eyes immediately widened.

Shaking your head furiously, prayers already coming out in splutters. “No- please-”

“No? Too many?” He pouted, not bothering to mask his glee now. “Okay, okay, calm down, baby. Breathe.” He soothed with no effort. “I think…”

There was a pause – a hum of thought as he wrapped his arms around your front and swayed you back against his chest in a hug.

“Ugh fuck, I'm no good makin’ rules on the fly…” He feigned - sinking his jaw into the grove of your armpit before cuddling the soft flesh with his chin-stubble.

He sucked his teeth in a further display of thought before releasing an exasperated sigh.

“I really didn’t think you’d break ‘em, y’know? I thought you’d be a good pet…”

You trembled, eyes looking down at the belt held between his big hands – whimpering at the sight of him simply playing with it – psyching you out like a true sadist.

“But you just had to disappoint me, didn’t you?”

You bit your lip to stop a sob.

“Had to be difficult… and now I gotta make difficult decisions…”

He slinked off you, leaving you to wobble – toes barely grazing the cold basement floor.

You try your best to prepare yourself for the next events, but the more you brace yourself the more tense you get and the harder you cry. “Please- I’ll be good- promise- m’real- really sorry-” 

“I know, baby. I know~ I am, too.” He coos, kissing your spine while rubbing circles into your sides – feeling your ribs rattle with sniffles, struggling for air through your panic. “I wanna make sure we never have to be sorry again.”

He wraps an arm around the front of your hips, steadying you while stroking the loop of his belt over your plump cheeks – tentatively teasing the soft flesh with what was soon to come.

He licked his lips at the promise – already imagining the flawless flesh blooming with his marks.

“I think thirty is fair.”

“No- no please- please, don’t-” You thrash – but do so little more than in place.

“Don’t squirm.” He interrupts, his hand curling into your hip with blunt nails denting the fine skin, keeping you still, pushing your side snugly against his front – holding you intimately while gruffing out eerie murmurs still much too softly for what he was saying. “Remember, it’s another ten hits if you fight me and another ten if you argue.”

At least he doesn’t make you count....

You wouldn’t have been able to even under threat – too busy wailing.

Each hit like the lash of a whip, smacking you fast, one on top of the other. It’s enough to make you throw up after half of it – though it's mostly just water and acid.

He takes pity enough to allow you a small break. Wringing off his wife-beater and wiping your mouth with it – also brushing some of the sweat off your brow before kissing your forehead. 

“Halfway there, Sweetie- you’re doing so good~”  He whispered soothingly, holding your cheeks to pick your face up from hanging – looking into the hopeless look of your opium-blown eyes – so lost he didn’t know if you could even hear him.

He acts as though he’s sorry after, but the boner he’s got nudged against you doesn’t lie – desperately dry-humping your thigh for some sort of relief.

His breaths are tight and hot, puffed against your arm where he now mouths wet kisses. “Good-” He swallows thickly, brows tight-knit, voice thick with lust. “Good pet.”

You hadn’t noticed he was done. And the relief doesn’t register either. There isn’t much comfort in it to grasp, not with the pain still so numbingly intense that you can’t feel anything but the raw sting. 

He drops the belt to the floor and struggles his fly open, shoving the trousers down along with his boxers, stepping out of the heap in a rush – all the while sucking sloppy kisses on your shoulder and nape, mumbling praise. “Y’were so good- so good fo’me- gonna reward yah- my good fuckin’ baby- gonna make yah feel so fuckin’ good now-”

The flesh of your ass burns with welts and split skin, ugly marks already lining the once-pretty color with horrid shades of bruise-dark. Your throat’s ripped raw from all the wailing – only weeping harder when he takes your hips and sways you back to meet his fat erection.

He shamelessly rubs himself between your cheeks – frenzied with his mouth gaping, releasing a filthy shuddering moan while leering at the beautiful sight of his handiwork – feeling so proud he was blushing just from sheer sadistic enjoyment – even letting slip a breathy laugh now.

He hung his tongue out and let his drool drip onto the shaft, then placed another kiss between your shoulder blades. Gliding his tip down and, with the help of a hand, pushed it between your cheeks until it caught your entrance. 

A rugged groan blew hotly down your spine, and another cry was ripped from your chest as he sunk inside without a single spare second to waste.

He laid his face to rest against your back, nudging up inside you slowly with both arms wrapping around you like before – holding you snugly before he began the intimate pace, fucking only the deepest coziest parts of you.

“I love you, Sunshine- you’re mine- only one I give two shits about- rest can just fuck off for all I care- as long as I have you- right here… forever.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Aizawa, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, Sakusa, Miya twins, Suna ♡ CSM – Aki ♡ BLLK – Reo, Isagi, Kunigami ♡ DS – Doma, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[pierregazly]

breakfast for three ꨄ lando norris

lando norris x wife!reader

warnings: mentions of mother's day, lando and reader have a son, fluff [861 words]

request: 💗 i was wondering if i could please request prompt 3 with lando norris? [3. "Go back to sleep."]

The soft giggles broke through your warm slumber, a small smile pulling onto your lips as you felt the little hands squishing your cheeks. Wrapping your arms around the small body that had found itself on top of you, the giggles grew as you pulled his little body closer to yours.

“Mama, no!” 

The little boy squealed, his arms trying to break free of your hold as you littered his face with groggy kisses, blowing raspberries into the soft skin as the loud giggles continued.

“I think I’ve found myself a wild Archie this morning, haven’t I?” 

He shook his head instantly, pushing at your hands that tickled under his armpits, squealing in laughter as he continued to try and get away.

“No, Mama, no! I wanted to wake you up with a big kiss,” he enunciated the word big, pressing a slobbery kiss to your cheek once you finally halted your own attack.

“Oh did you, my sweet little love? Shall I give you a big kiss in return?”

He nodded his head eagerly, turning his cheek towards you with a toothy grin. Instantly pressing a large kiss to his little cheek, he cuddled into you, pressing his chin into your shoulder as the soft giggles returned.

“Archie, mate! I told you not to wake her up, we were supposed to be making breakfast for her and bringing it to her in bed, you silly boy,” Lando hollered from the door.

A pout formed on your son’s face, his face turning back into you as he tried to melt his body into yours. 

“I jus’ wanted a little snuggle, Mama,” the little boy whispered into your ear, a small smile pulling across your face at his words.

He always wanted a little snuggle in the morning, a tradition from the day he was born. From Lando picking him up and out of the crib to snuggle in bed, to the little boy eagerly crawling in between the two of you on Christmas morning; he always found a way to squeeze an extra snuggle in.

You felt him being picked up from beside you, a soft ‘no’ flying from his lips as he glared at the man above him. 

“Off you go to the kitchen, little man. Don’t you wanna spoil Mum for her big day? Daddy will burn everything without your help, Arch,” a look of horror overtook the little boy’s face at your husband’s words. He wiggled to get out of the arms holding him, ungracefully dropping to the floor below him.

His little feet pattered against the carpet, towards the direction of the kitchen. Lando turned towards you with a smirk.

“Mama’s boy til’ the end of his days, I swear,” he said with a shake of his head.

Leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead, you smiled up at him, your hand gently grazing the grown-out stubble on his cheeks. 

“Just like his own daddy, don’t act like you’re not a little Mama’s boy, Lan,” you said.

Shrugging his shoulders, he simply grinned down at you. “Course’ I am, taught him well, didn’ I? His idea to cook you a little Mother’s Day brekky, jus’ for him to disappear and wake you up.”

Laughing softly, shaking your head at your son’s usual antics. You felt the fondness inside of you grow, a yearning to feel your son cuddled into your arms again, breakfast or no breakfast.

“Go back to sleep for a little bit, baby. It’s going to take us a little bit, he got all the waffle mix on the floor. Hasn’t been much help, really,” he said.

Quirking an eyebrow up at him, “You sure it’s not you that hasn’t been much help? Don’t think I’ve seen you cook breakfast once in the years we’ve been together.”

Pinching your bare shoulder, you whacked at his hand with a small laugh.

“You brat, I cooked you brekky last Mother’s Day, don’t act up or I’ll give you a little spank,” he said, a cocky grin overtaking his features.

Biting the corner of your lip, you let your finger gently tug on one of his overgrown curls as he grinned down at you.

“Hm, maybe that’s what I’m looking for. Good start to making a little brother or sister for Archie, don’t ya’ think?” 

The soft murmur of words prompted a redness to grow across Lando’s face, his hand cupping your cheek with a cheeky grin on his own face.

“Should I lock Archie out for a little bit, tell him the door’s closed and to jus’ play with the waffle mix for a little? Could get started right now, Mama,” he said, a wicked glint in his eyes.

Shoving at his shoulder with a laugh, you pushed him away from you, pulling the comforter tighter around your body. 

“I believe I was promised a wonderful Mother’s Day brekky, no? Get to it, Lan.”

Pressing another kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips, the Brit pulled back from you. 

“Happy Mother’s Day, my love. Go back to sleep for a bit, it’s your day for us to spoil you for once.”

Happy Mother's Day to everyone who celebrates, to all the Mother's who are forgotten, who aren't given the love and celebration they deserve, the Mother's without their children today, the Mother's with their rainbow babies, their fur babies, their babies who are no longer with us - I hope you treat yourself well today.

To everyone with negative feelings towards Mother's Day, who do not look at this day with love and adoration - know that you are valid, and you owe no explanations. I hope you treat yourself with love and care today as well.

[frudoo]

I beg for more slasher 141 pleeeease 🫶🫶🫶🫶

Part 2 to this <3

Warnings: Dark!Fic/DDDNE, hopefully that's obvious. Gore, slight torture, infidelity (not by 141). Fem!Reader.

     “Thank you for staying with me,” you hum, leaning up from where you sit on the bathroom counter to plant a kiss on his stubbled jaw.

“You know you don’t have to thank me, sweet girl.”

     John finishes wiping off the last of your face mask, grabbing your moisturizer and gently rubbing it in with his fingertips. Wiping his hands off on a towel, he bends down to press a kiss to the luscious layer of fat beneath your chin. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, allowing him to lift you by your ass and carry you back to his bedroom. Yours is far too lonely right now, and frankly, John likes having you all to himself from time to time. 

     He lays you down on his cozy bed, making sure you’re all warm and comfortable beneath the covers before he strips himself of his clothes. You smile at the sight of his body, muscular and strong but with some fat on his gut. Tufts of dark hair make themselves known all over his torso and teasing a delicious crescendo down his tummy, the peak of which concealed by his boxers. John climbs into the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms and coaxing your head to rest on his cushy chest. 

     “John?” You ask softly.

     He hums, tilting his chin down to see you better. You bite your lip, about to tell him to forget about it, but he senses your unease. 

     “What is it, darlin’?” John sits up and rests his back against the headboard, pulling you onto his lap so he can look into your eyes. 

     “I-it’s nothing. Just… earlier, when I was in the bath, you said… you said I’d get a turn on that guy soon enough. What did you mean by that?” You fiddle with your hands nervously. 

     “What’s it sound like, sweet girl? The boys are bringin’ him back, figured you might wanna join in on the fun,” John explains, big hands kneading the plush of your waist. “That somethin’ you wanna do?”

     Your breath hitches in your throat. You know what they do, of course, but you’ve never actually been involved in a kill. They’ve never even exercised the idea of having you help until now. It’s overwhelming.

     “I-I don’t… I-” You stutter, your chest starting to heave with anxiety.

     “Shh, baby, it’s alright. You don’t have to if you don’t think you can handle it,” he coos, baby blues softening as they stare you down. 

     “I- can I just… talk to him? Before you do anything?” You ask quietly, resting your trembling hands on his shoulders.

     “Yeah, darlin’. Whatever you want,” he whispers, cusping the back of your head and pulling you down for a tender kiss. “Let’s get some sleep, hm? We can talk more about it in the mornin’. Sound good?”

     You nod at the same time he readjusts back into the previous position, his back to the mattress, your head on his chest, legs all tangled up. Sleep comes easy despite all the chaos you’ve been through today, snuggled up with one of your protectors. 

     Typically, you’re woken up with a pair of lips trailing kisses down your neck, or the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen. Today, however, it’s the pained screams of a man being dragged around outside that startles you awake. John’s not in bed when you open your eyes, and it makes your heart drop. This is all too real. Your men are expecting you, one way or another. 

     Nervous hands pull one of John’s sweatshirt’s over your trembling body, followed by a clean pair of his boxers. It’s hardly appropriate clothing considering what you’re about to involve yourself with, but it smells like him and you could use some comfort right now. Not even bothering to put shoes on, you carefully step down the stairs and walk outside, eyes frantically searching for the source of the pathetic sobs.

     When you find it, the sight causes bile to rise in your throat. Simon’s holding the man up by his armpits, and there’s a burlap sack covering his head. His knees are broken, calves protruding forward where they should bend back, and upon further inspection, you discover that most of his fingernails have been ripped off. Tears flood your eyes when you finally find your voice, a whimper escaping your throat. It alerts Kyle whose head instantly turns in your direction. He beckons you over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

     “This is him,” he whispers, kissing your temple soothingly. 

     “How are you so sure?” Your bottom lip wobbles as you look up at him, eyes wide with fear and remorse though you’ve done nothing wrong.

     “Checked your dashcam, dove,” Kyle explains, massaging the shoulder his hand rests on. “Looked him up online. Real clean-cut fella.”

     “Sick fuck has a wife, three kids,” Simon joins in with a sneer. “Guess where we found him?”

     “A fookin’ motel,” Johnny answers before you get the chance. “Shaggin’ a prostitute. Paid ‘er a fair sum fer ‘er silence. Nae cop would listen tae ‘er anywey.”

     John is the last to arrive, tool belt full of sharp weapons jangling with every step he takes. He calls your name but you can’t tear your eyes away from the living ragdoll. The bile has settled itself back into your stomach, and in place of your uncertainty is a gnashing anger begging you to do something about it. In the back of your mind you know you can’t do any true harm to him, but you’re going to do something.

     You gently pull free from Kyle’s hold, stalking toward the weeping man. There’s no tremble in your hands when you pull the burlap sack off of his head, letting it fall to the dewy ground. It’s definitely the man who harassed you, there’s no doubt about it—from the dirty blonde hair adorning his head to the ugly scar that runs across his cheek. He opens his eyes to look around, and when they land on you, he lets out his most pathetic wail yet.

     “No! F-fuck, is that- are you- fuckin’ bitch! You… you fuckin’-” He sputters, and that familiar voice makes your head pound.

     “Does your wife know you’re a pervert?” You ask calmly. “How about your kids, hm? Do they know Daddy likes to go around touching women who aren’t Mommy?”

     “Y-you don’t know wh-what you’re talkin’ about,” he defends, hot tears falling down his flushed face.

     “Don’t worry, they’ll never know what a sorry excuse of a man you were. Do you think they’ll mourn your absence when you’re reported missing, or are they so used to it that it’ll be a weight off their shoulders?”

     “Fuck you!” The man shouts the best he can through a raw throat, and you laugh, leaning in closer to whisper into his ear. 

     “Not a chance.”

     As you turn to walk away, you pretend not to hear his screams as your men drag him into the barn, nor the sounds of Johnny’s chainsaw roaring shortly after.

[kdotgvo1]

[slamminslamminmcgill]

joel’s pussy eating game is RIDICULOUS!!!!! he claims to be into servicing ppl and he is but…. it’s more in service of himself tbh bc of how selfish and hungry he is

warning: squirting, oral, rimming

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy, clit/t-dick

he’ll start slow to ease you into it. long, broad strokes of his flattened tongue up your slit. wet kisses dotting your clit. lots of spit to get you nice and wet for his tongue to just glide along your cunt however which way he sees fit.

and once your own juices start to flow, loosening you up for him, it’s blood to a shark. one drop hits his tongue and he’s GONE.

“fuckin’ christ, you taste good. yeah… yeah, i need more of that.”

joel smushes his face into your pussy, his stubble prickling your hypersensitive skin, and he fucking LATCHES his mouth on your clit, bouncing his lips off your sodden flesh as he sucks you off. soon you’re leaking enough that he can slide two fingers into you with ease. he curls them up into your g-spot and keeps them there, pushing your button over and over to get you to burst.

and may god help you if you squirt.

it splashes against his face and you hear a deep, rumbling, feral growl. it’s the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard from a man. one that reminds you of our basest urges, that we are naught but beasts at heart. horny fucking beasts possessed by pheromones and need.

“fuck yeah, c’mon. c’mon, gimme another.” he demands, starting his fingers right back up again, right into the swollen trigger point that has you gushing over and over. a firm hand cuts through the typhoon with a loud-

(SMACK)

on the meat of your ass.

“sit on my face. i wanna drink you.”

you peel yourself off his leather couch, knees buckling like a newborn fawn as you stand, and hobble over to where he’s laying on the carpet. he’s frantic, aggressive and repetitive in his orders.

“get over here... get over here, boy... get over here…”

your knees flank his head, facing his legs, and you lower yourself down until your pussy bumps his nose. he starts licking right away. you look down and his cock is throbbing, an angry shade of red. being that he’s been so generous to you, you see fit to return the favor. you lean down and take his cock in your hands, though you barely get to kiss it before joel intervenes.

“nope.”

he hooks his arms under your armpits, grabs you by the shoulders, and YANKS you backwards, pulling your face away from his cock and holding your back upright.

“nuh uh. fuck my face. i want you to use me. don’ worry ‘bout my cock, sweetheart, just fuck my face.”

you hesitantly hump his face, tiny jerks of your hips to get used to the feeling and get a rhythm down. as you grow accustomed to it, your soaked cunt easily glides across his face, your swollen t-dick bumps his lips and he sucks it in his mouth. his tongue swipes between your pussy and ass, your juices dripping down his cheeks.

eventually, you squirt again, just a tiny bit.

but it’s not enough.

“give it to me.” joel barks, and shoves his fingers back in for some not-so-gentle encouragement. “c’mon, kid, give it to me. squirt down my fuckin’ throat, c’mon. lemme drink you. gimme somethin’ sweet to drink, baby boy.”

you give him exactly what he wants, squirting right into his mouth in hot jets. his growl vibrates your entire cunt and he slurps it all up.

when it gets to be too much, you roll off him and onto the floor. the two of you lay side by side, gasping for air. his face is dripping, his wet hair resting on an incriminating wet spot on the carpet. you’re staring at the ceiling as it swirls, creating beautiful constellations in combination with the stars in your vision. joel reaches out and tugs you close to him. his overworked lips smooch your forehead, and he says,

“good boy. hottest thing i’ve ever seen in my fuckin’ life.”