#third eye: thots

[onsunnyside]

SONNY SONNY its mee

i was watching age of ultron again to cope with everything and that one scene where steve breaks apart the wood???? like ohmygODD?? and then i saw the gif of it in my dashboard and i was like unholy fuck

sooo.. as a big third eye fan... i wanted to bring forth my slutty thots..

i can imagine steve splitting wood for whatever reason and bambi watching him and just getting all hot, wet and bothered over his arms and thinking about him splitting her open or smth but she doesn't wanna bother him. but she knows nothing and no one will make her feel as good as she does w/ stevie's cream. ofc stevie knows his girl sm and gives her his cream later that night 'cause she's so good for him <3

IM NOT USUALLY THIS HORNY BUT MYGAHD IM NOT IMMUNE TO THAT SCENE JLVNJNEHFO

✨🐬 anon

hi bestie !! omg that part was for the sluts, i just know it 😌 him in that tight shirt, all mad and grumpy, tearing apart a log with his bare hands, mhm !!

bambi is the definition of lovesick: staring at him from the porch, your chin in your hand, head totally empty as Steve swings the axe above his head and splits another piece of wood. an audible sigh flutters from your lips when he wipes his sweaty forehead with the hem of his shirt, exposing his taut abs beneath. "Enjoying the show, bambi?" He calls out, blue eyes trailing over your figure, clad in one of his softest sweaters and cute little socks, "I'm almost done here, why don't you go wait in bed for me, yeah?"

[1ns4n3j3st3rf0rlyf3]

me when i realize that i’m the stalker i always lusted conceptually after….

when i want you, i want the concept of you. really bad ,, i want everything about you all the good and the bad ,, i want to take care of you bc ur all we need <3 i conceptually want the toxic energy of push and pull until you push me away and i hate you and i lurk and i watch and i wish bad things on you but i’m afraid. i would never want to actually hurt you. i’ve hurt you before but i never wanted to i just love you. but if u don’t want me, i wait and wish and wait and wish and watch. until u miss the pull i pushed. then i’m back and better at watching you and i need you even more.

[hon3y-y]

NUH UH roomate!sukuna had his thot era, it's time for reader to have hers!!! And he's gonna sit there and WATCH it- payback baby. I wanted reader to fuck satoru, suguru, kento, choso, even fucking hiromi- she gonna get it ALLLLLLL before sukuna can even get a taste 😤

cw: noncon filming!

pt 1: here<3 pt3: here<3

omfg he would be soooo pissed💀

picture this;

The morning after everything happened, Sukuna was more than ready to make it official with you. He had already planned how he was going to seduce you. He got up early to hit the gym before you even woke up, so when you were finally awake, you would see him all jacked up and sweaty. It literally had his stomach fluttering with excitement at just how fast he knew you'd fold. 

Well, easier said than done, because when he does get home and hear someone in the kitchen, it's not you cutely rubbing your sleepy eyes in nothing but a baggy shirt. Instead, it’s that white-haired freak from last night. 

He literally rolls his eyes, ignoring the greeting the guy sends and telling him to “get the fuck out” to which Satoru just laughs, takes his toast (which he made in Sukuna’s toaster, by the way), and exits the kitchen while taking a bite. Sukuna goes to your room door but is stopped by the obnoxious blond.

“She left, said she was going to see a friend.”

“Why are you still here?”

Satoru shrugs before grabbing the shirt he had thrown onto the couch the previous night and waving goodbye, crumbs from the toast he was eating still on his lips, before the door slams shut. 

Ryomen was floored. Were you two officials? Is that why you finally brought someone home? He couldn’t deny the pinch in his chest, but he shoved it aside. I mean, he would happily break up a home, so even if this was your stupid boyfriend, it wouldn’t dampen anything. He doesn’t mind a little competition. 

At least, that’s what he thinks it’s going to be. Since that night, both of your schedules had been too complicated, and you two had only seen each other in passing. But tonight, he knew you would both be off and it’s the weekend, so he knows you at least don’t have anything till midday. 

You return late, and you are absolutely not alone.

You’re with another guy, some blond man who looks a little too pristine to be found at the club (who he later finds out is kento from your whimpered of “kento! Oh fuck—yes! right there!”).

You don’t even notice that Sukuna's door is wide open and instead stumble straight into your own. and Ryomen is jaw-dropped, shocked. 

He begins to feel like a cuck; all he does is listen to you fuck this random selection of men you’ve created within these recent couple of weeks and fuck his fist stupid. It’s so embarrassing to feel like a hormonal teenager who can’t get a grip. but he can’t stop; he just remembers what you look like under Satoru. 

Night after night, all weekend long, you’re bringing home someone new. although after a while it’s just the same three guys. the annoying blond, Kento (or “the businessman”), and some random boy named "choso,” who he walked in on you giving a blow job to.

You stopped immediately, so embarrassed and shy, as if you didn’t just have this guy with his eyes rolled back, nearly crying every time you gagged on him. Choso, on the other hand, looked too fucked out to care about the third person in the room. 

Sukuna was so hard and horny all the time, and his interest in finding someone to handle it was useless. He wanted you, not some random girl. He even bought a fleshlight for the first time, needing something other than his hand to hump. 

One night, he returned late and heard the sweet noises of your mewls (again, it was starting to feel like a routine). He tried to quietly pass your door, but stopped short. three voices?

He almost couldn't believe it, but after cracking your door open, there you were. You were jerking Satoru off, his white hair sticking to his damp forehead, while this guy with long black hair was pounding into you. One of his hands wrapped around your throat while the other played with your clit, your body jerking at the intensity of stimulation. Satoru played with your swollen nipples, pinching and leaning down to suck them. 

Sukuna can’t help but pull his phone out and record it, going back to his room and rutting into his fleshlight until his cock is raw. the video on a constant loop because he was so fucking addicted. You looked so good. so pretty, and pliant under them. He wanted, no, needed to have you.

You lay in bed, absolutely exhausted after Suguru and Satoru left. You still can’t deny the effect Sukuna has on you, but since you’ve started having hookups, you haven’t even tried to listen to what Ryo does (not that you could’ve or noticed, clearly. he’s been on a dry spell). While you sleep peacefully, snuggled into your warm comforter, Sukuna lies awake, extremely frustrated.

he’s sooo down bad://

[bullshitpringlesapologist]

thank you to those who informed me about the terfs i just reblogged! I’ve deleted the post and will block them now.

[squishycheekanon]

This Price thot that got away with me..❤️‍🔥🖤

The fire had started to die down, John grabbed a piece of firewood he’d freshly chopped this morning while you lounged in the sweet little pillow and blanket pile you’d made earlier by the fireplace, trying your hardest to ignore the slight stretch you felt with a plug inside your aching core, keeping you stuffed full of Price’s cum. Your clit still pulsing from the memory of his filthy words.

“That’s it sweet girl, taking my cock so well. Let it out love, let it all out.”

Price flung the wood onto the fire before pulling away the soft heavy weight blanket hiding your needy body from him. His ocean eyes raked over your figure, admiring the way you shook with pleasure. His truly oversized hands began teasingly tracing over your skin, his pearly whites flashing under the bushy mutton hops and full beard when you twitched as his fingertips glazed where your thigh and hip met.

Slowly sliding the plug out of your dripping cunt, he felt himself harden even more, his cock becoming painfully tight. “Fuck honey, this pretty cunt, fuck.” He shook his head, eyes fixated on the way his cum from this morning dripped out of you. There wasn’t a prettier sight than this.

How he longed to keep you stuffed full of it so you wouldn’t even think of leaving. Not that you would, Price likes to think by this point he’s reconditioned your mind to need him and only him for anything even the tiniest things like dropping a fucking apple on the floor, in fact he prides himself on it.

“John.” Your back arched, his body moulded against yours, fitting perfectly together, being made for eachother had its perks, he thought. His hairy, sturdy chest pressed against your tits, squishing them there. His scent consumed you, fresh rain, cigars and something musky.

His thick fingers stroked down your stomach, grabbing softly at the pudge there before he slid into your throbbing hole. He could never describe the satisfaction he gets from seeing the blissed look you get on your face when he first slips his fingers inside you.

“Let me hear you love, nice and loud for me.” Price growled from somewhere deep within his chest, his pupils dilating until you couldn’t see any blue at all. “Gonna fuck you,” he grunted his fingers thrusting in and out of you, curling just right just where you needed it, “But you’re gonna cum all over my hand first.”

The fire ablaze once more, just like the feeling that burned in your lower abdomen. That coil that got tighter with every slide against that spongy spot deep inside you.

“Fuck I can’t, too much.” You whined, pussy still sensitive from the way John had woken you up with his tongue lapping at your clit. And fuckkk the way he’d flipped you onto your back and pounded into you from behind until you were cock drunk, only able to say his name on repeat.

“No, come on now, be a good girl for me,” Price’s voice transformed and you wondered if that’s how he spoke to his unit. Before you even had chance to say you couldn’t again, he brushed his thumb over your achey clit. You sobbed, moaning into the evening air, your hips jerking up against his hand.

“Yeah,” he laughed darkly, “look at you buck your hips like a good fucking girl.”

“Fuck Johnnyyy.” The way his eyes shot to your face, your pretty eyes closed, mouth open, head thrown back digging into the pillows on the floor. Johnny, it was a very limited nickname for him, only hearing it on very rare occasions. But every time he loved it.

“Oh you’re gonna cum for me aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question, even if he had to force you, you were going to cum for him. Adding a third finger and changing his angle, he bullied your cunt, plunging in and out desperate to feel you gush.

Pulling his body away from yours and leaning down, he dove right in, tongue licking, sucking and flicking at your clit. “Oooo Johnny yes! John fuck keep doing that baby!” Your hips jolting, almost riding his face not that he minded. You kept going, feeling your body burn with need the faster you bucked and the deeper his fingers went.

The feeling was so addictive you never wanted it to end, never wanted to come down but the world was against you. Your orgasm slammed into you pushing you to arch your back into the air, no longer able to jerk your hips away John saw his opportunity to hold you there and lick lick lick, until you screamed squirting onto his face and hand.

“Fuck off John!” You screeched trying to push his face away with your hands but to no avail, the way he kept you bent, you could barely reach. He stayed there a while before eventually taking pity on you and pulling away.

His thick facial hair soaked with your juices, “I thought I was Johnnnyyyyy.” He mimicked you with a fat grin on his gorgeous face.

“Fuck off.” You spat moving to turn on your side so you could get up, only for his big hands to roll you all the way onto your front. His body moulding with yours once more, you could feel the thickness of him, the hair. It made you burn with anticipation.

“Now where d’ya think you’re going love? I told you I was going to fuck you.”

©️ squishycheekanon 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[sassypossumm]

Voracious

My most recent thots about Feral!Miguel... (18+...minors, please don't hoe)

Insatiable.

Thats the only word to describe Miguel O'Hara. This man doesn't do anything in half measures.

Installment 1: Eating you out

Miguel does so with a voracious appetite. He'll pin down your thighs and plunge his tongue between your folds like a man deprived of oxygen.

That isn't to say he's not precise. On thr contrary, Miguel, ever the scientist, has made your pleasure his latest field of study.

As he sucks and groans around your over sensitive clit in a depraved manner, he's busy sliding a finger into your entrance. And he chuckles darkly when your whole body twitches as he massages your g-spot mercilessly.

You writhe and buck against his face, moaning and babbling, beyond words after your third orgasm. He peels his face away, and looks up at you pupils blown wide with lust, and you shudder at the practically feral way he's eyeing you, the lower half of his face slick with your arousal.

Opening his mouth slowly, Miguel flashes a bit of fang as he slowly runs his tongue along his lower lip, growling as he savors your taste.

"You really want me to stop?"

A shiver runs down your spine, and a gooey warmth begins spreading across your chest again. You find yourself shaking your head dumbly.

"No Sir." It was no more than a whisper, you'd barley summoned the strength to breathe he words, but the spark in Miguel's eyes, and the way his claws dug into the mattress by your upper thigh told you he'd heard.

"Good girl. Mi buena niña."

With that he dove back between your thighs, biting and sucking at the tender flesh, marking you as his before parting your swollen folds with two fingers and purring.

"My very good girl."

You mewled as he firmly pinned your hips to the bed and circled your pulsing bundle of nerves with his tongue. Miguel wasn't coming up for air until either he was sated or you forgot both of your names.

Fortunately, Miguel was rarely satiated, and you had a very good memory.

[endlessthxxghts]

Solace

Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x afab!reader || W/C: 4.3k

Summary: You help Din release his frustrations after he comes back from a weeklong hunt.

Content/Warnings: Canon divergent around season 3 (no Grogu here; one tiny reference to Living Waters). Reader is able-bodied, but there are no specific physical descriptions. Pet names for both reader and Din (fem pet names for reader). Implied established relationship (you've seen his face and call him Din) - THEY'RE IN LOVE. Reader knows a bit of Mando'a. Helmet comes off. 18+ MDNI. This is 100% porn. Boot riding...blanket..riding...(there's a lot of riding lolz). Multiple orgasms. Cunnilingus. Din is a talker when his mouth isn't occupied. Blow job/face fucking. Unprotected P in V sex. Reader is on whatever form of birth control they have in space LMAO, so #twinkie time😋. Hints of a breeding kink. Praise kink (lots of it). Switch BDSM dynamics. Soft Dom!Din along with subby/desperate!Din. Sub!Reader and soft Dom!Reader. Please let me know if I missed anything! Xx

A/N: First picture was made by @djarin-desires, and honestly, this whole oneshot was inspired by this post they made! I literally could not stop thinking about these pictures all day, so I just had to write my ✨thots✨ down. I hope you enjoy!! Other two photos are found on Pinterest - middle does not represent anything about reader’s physical appearance.

MASTERLIST || FIC NOTIFS BLOG

“Oh, shit-” you gasp. “Din, please,” eyes rolling back in pleasure, your body shivering in its nakedness compared to his fully armored form. 

“What is it, sweet girl?” he coos, his fingers caressing your cheekbone, pushing the hair from your eyes. 

“Need- stars- need more,” you cry out, your current situation proving to only bring you to the edge, but not carry you off of it. 

“One more like this, cyar’ika, then I’ll give you what you want,” Din reassures you, his leather-clad thumb running across your bottom lip, hooking himself in your mouth for you to make a mess of. “I wanna see that boot soaked, you hear me?”

Din always gets like this when he comes back from a weeklong bounty hunt. He gets hard. Dominating. In need of control. To take back the situation that got out of hand. 

You were sitting on the ground cleaning one of his blasters when he came in. He was tense. Weirdly quiet. He’s always quiet, but not with you, not for a few years now. He threw the bounty into the carbon and froze him, his chest plate rising with every breath. You knew him well enough now to know when he’s seething, and this was it. 

“Din?” you called out softly. 

He just points his helmet at you, the visor staring you down. 

“Everything okay?”

“What do you think?” He responds rather harshly.

“...Din,” you whisper, feeling every ounce of anger in those four words.

You like how it ends in these situations, though. It always ends with him a whimpering mess beneath you. There’s usually some kind of switch. He takes a third orgasm out of you, and always on the third, he becomes needy. Desperate. He just wants to be inside of you. To be balls deep and stay there, to release all of his tension while being wrapped up in you. 

You’re his solace. His warmth. His home. He always needs you. But right now, he needs his control back, so even though it’s you who’s in control by the end of the night, you stay prettily on your knees and obey dutifully. 

“I hear you, Din,” you struggle to get out with his thumb holding your tongue down, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth. 

Your thighs are on fire from your constant back and forth motion, the squelch of your slick rubbing across his shoe sending blood straight to his groin. He can feel himself itching to make you rise, to spread your legs and split you open until he can’t hold himself up anymore. But he knows you’re close even though you whine and plea for more. He knows your tells—the way your eyes struggle to stay open, the sweat beading at your temples, the way you slowly start to clamp down harder and harder on his thumb. His personal favorite, though, he discovered in this new position, is the way you start hugging tighter onto his leg, your chest rubbing against his thigh plate in an attempt to cool yourself off, but you’re just so close, the cool beskar doing nothing to ease the heat. 

“Just like that, pretty girl, come on,” Din groans, the sight before him truly testing his strength. You two have done many things together, but this? This is something new, and Din isn’t sure how long he can last. “I know you can give me one more, baby. Just one more, and then I get to feel you, come on,” he pleads, voice bubbling up into a whine. 

Oh, he’s starting to break, already? 

The thought is what sends you over, your hips stuttering in their rhythm as your arousal pours out of you, your clit shooting a sharp sensation up your spine at the sensitivity. “Dank farrik, you’re so damn gorgeous when you cum all over me, baby, so so gorgeous,” he pulls his thumb out and spreads your drool across your mouth, cradling your cheek softly in his palm as you shake in his grasp.

“Oh, fuck- oh yes, yesyesyes, Din,” you sob, head falling back between your shoulder blades. 

“Oh, my sweet girl, Maker, you’re so beautiful,” he coos, leaning down to let the forehead of his helmet rest against yours, your hot breath fogging his visor. He smiles to himself as his vision blurs momentarily. 

Din’s hands situate themselves beneath your armpits, pulling you up to your feet and supporting you as you allow your limp legs to gain their strength again. “Can I taste you, cyar’ika?” He asks as he wraps his arms around your waist, guiding you to sit on the armory crate in the corner of the hull. 

“Thought you said you wanted to feel me?” you retort, a small smirk forming on your flushed face. 

“Yeah,” he says as he drops down to his knees. “My tongue goes first.” Even with his helmet on, you can still hear the shit-eating grin with his comment. 

Din reaches for his helmet, the hiss of air signifying it’s about to come off never fails to cause butterflies to erupt in your belly. The minute his chocolate brown eyes meet yours, your heart grows two sizes greater. Your hands reach for his face. “There’s my pretty boy,” you whisper. 

His heart nearly jumps out of his chest at your words. He turns his head to kiss your palm. “My pretty girl,” he responds, bashful. “Lean back, baby.” You lay yourself back, body resting against the metal wall as his hands settle underneath you. 

Din brings himself forward, the flat of his tongue starting at the bottom of you and licking upwards—slowly, thoughtfully, calculated. He takes his time moving through your soaked folds, as if he’s mapping it out for the first time even though he’s mapped your body more times than the amount of bounties under his belt. 

The way you moan under his touch has him groaning into you, his fingers tightening their hold, his face more flush against you. He can’t get enough. His licks turn less controlled and more hungry; he uses his lips to help rub the surrounding area as he suckles every part of you he can, drinking you in, bathing in your slick as if to reclaim himself, as he did not too long ago in the Living Waters of Mandalore. His nose nudges your sensitivity as his tongue claims your entrance, the softness of your walls dancing with the softness of his tongue makes you breathless. 

Your fingers find their way into his curls, grabbing on in an attempt to ground yourself, to keep your soul beside him as he brings you to the brink of ecstasy for the fourth time since he’s been back. You whimper in distaste as his tongue leaves your hole, but the disappointment is quickly replaced by a whimper of desperation when his mouth wraps around your throbbing bud and he sucks. “Just- oh, fuck, Din- just like that,” you let out, your hips involuntarily lifting to buck into his face.

He’s quick to bring his mouth back down to your entrance, licking up every drop of the sweet nectar you always keep him full with. His nose massages your bundle as he drinks from you, and the action prolongs your climax and syrupy moans; Din works to pull as much as he possibly can from you. It’s been a week of rations and shitty meals he can sneak. So when such a delicacy is placed before him, solely for his taking, oh, he’s not going to waste a single drop. 

By the time he’s satisfied, the bottom half of his face is covered in your shine, the armory crate’s ledge is soaked, and you’re completely blissed out—face flushed and sweaty, tired eyes, a weak smile… to the average eye, you appear properly satiated. Although, Din knows that you are far from it.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Din asks, rising to his full height again. He brings his hand out for you to take, pulling you up to stand. Delaying your answer, you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in for a messy, open-mouthed kiss, all tongue with your flavor embedded in each and every one of his taste buds. You moan into the kiss, pulling away with a bite to his plump bottom lip. “Perfect, baby,” you smile, pulling him to the makeshift bed—a pile of blankets—in the hull that you two sleep in. 

You drop yourself down onto your knees, beginning to work his armor off from his legs as he starts on his shoulders. With you helping, he’s down to his flight suit in no time, and your mouth salivates at the sight. As soon as the last clink of the precious metal leaves his body, you’re leaning your face into him, into his bulge, pressing sweet little kisses to its covered form. You can hear Din’s breath hitch, his cock twitching under your touch. “Need you in my mouth, Din,” you say as you look up at him, his eyes already hooded over at the sight of your mouth near his length. “My turn to taste you, huh, pretty boy?” You ask in a teasing tone, his face too hot to register that you’re waiting for a response from him. 

He finally registers the question when your hand dips into his bottoms, his hardness meeting your hand eagerly. You look at him expectantly. 

Although technically it’s his cock’s turn to feel you, he cannot bring himself to deny you or your skillful mouth. He cannot bring himself to deny anything you want, really. “Y-yeah- yes, baby, your turn,” he says shakily, the anticipation putting his body into sensitivity overdrive. 

He helps rip the rest of his flight suit off, and without giving him a second to breathe, you’re already spitting in your palm and working the length of him the way you know he loves. You use your mouth in tandem, your tongue licking from his base to his tip, and instantly, a loud whimper comes from the back of Din’s throat at this particular touch. 

You’re delighted by his reaction, so you repeat the motion a few more times to pull more of those sweet sounds out. “My baby is so sensitive here, isn’t he?” You pump him with your hand as you speak, placing a wet kiss to his tip when the foreskin pulls back to expose it. 

“Kriff…” he moans, his head suddenly too heavy to maintain upright. “Mesh’la, please,” Din begs. 

With one more kiss to the tip, you stop your hand’s movement completely. “Please what, baby? Use those words, honey,” you look up at him, eyes wide and full of promises to please—as soon as he vocalizes what he wants. 

His chest is heaving already at the sight of you, on your knees and looking up at him again, yet this time around, you’re the one calling the shots. 

He prefers it this way, he thinks. Sure, he comes back from a particularly frustrating hunt and ends up taking his stress out on you. Sure, it’s the most beautiful sight seeing you so worked up and at his mercy. But he is always the one in the driver seat—calculating everyone’s every turn, every action before they even have the chance to act. Din’s mind is always active, always alert. Yet, when you have him like this, in this yielding state, it’s like his mind gets to be quiet. With you, under your touch and under your gaze, Din is able to exist in your presence without a worry. He’s finally able to just be. Not a bounty hunter, not the big and tough Mandalorian everyone fears. No, he’s Din. Your Din. Your sweet boy. Yours. And that’s the greatest honor to ever bestow upon him. At least, that’s how he sees it anyway. 

“Y-your mouth, mesh’la, p-please,” he says softly. Your eyebrow quirks up. You want just a little bit more. “Want your- need your mouth on me, baby, please,” he breathes out, attempting and failing to ease the neediness in his voice. 

You hum triumphantly before you begin pumping him again, your hand focusing on his base while your mouth lavishes his leaking head. You swirl your tongue around, the salty flavor of him quick to override your senses, and Din lets out a strangled moan, his hips softly bucking in your grasp. 

Your hand releases him, letting your mouth take full control. You grab onto his thick thighs for stability, breathing through your nose as you let the tip of him reach as far back as you can handle. He gasps when he hits the back of your throat, the twitch of his body triggering your gag reflex, your throat tightening in on where he’s most sensitive. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts, fighting his hips to stay in place and let you do your thing. 

You garble something incoherent, humming into his cock as you pull yourself on and off of him a few more times. Pulling back for a small breather, you use your finger to collect up the spit-arousal mixture from the sides of your mouth and pump it on his erection, his hips twitching once again at your ministrations. 

You know what he really wants right now, but with his head in cloud nine, you know he’ll never ask for it himself. “You wanna fuck my mouth, Din?” You ask bluntly. 

His entire face and chest turn red faster than the speed of light. He sputters in his response. “I- oh my Maker, mesh’la, is that- are- are you sure? I-”

You cut him off by leaning in to kiss his thigh. He softens in your touch. “Din, pretty boy, it’s a yes or no. One word. Choose.” 

“Yes,” he replies, not a single hesitation in sight. 

“Good boy,” you purr. “See what happens when you say what you want from me?”

You shift yourself to a more comfortable position sitting on your haunches, fluffing the blankets underneath you to soften the ache of the metal floor. You look up to Din who’s watching you eagerly but with a softness that tells you to take all your time in the world. Doing this isn’t just for him, though. Letting him take control of you here turns you on just as much as it does him, maybe even more. 

You take one more glance into his thirsty eyes, and, well, okay… maybe he enjoys this slightly more. Nonetheless, you don’t take your time because you can feel the butterflies in your core beginning to flap once again as Din brings himself closer to you, lining himself up with your mouth.

“Don’t waste this opportunity, Djarin. Better use me good, yeah?” You tease, leaning your head back slightly as you stick your salivating tongue flat out, waiting for him to enter. 

His entire body shivers at your words. “Yes, ma’am,” he says under his breath, focusing on easing himself into your mouth as steady as possible, trying to maintain some ounce of self-restraint he’s inevitably going to lose. 

Once his tip is in your mouth, his hands find their home rooted at the base of your air, his thumb reaching forward to caress the apple of your cheeks. He doesn’t move at first, apprehensive in the case he might hurt you. He’s always like this at the beginning, and every single time, you reassure him it’s okay. 

You let out a muffled mhm, his signal to keep going. Din’s fingers flex, guiding your head further in as his hips slowly meet you halfway. He’s holding his breath, you can tell in the way his belly twitches. But the moment your swallow reflex triggers around him, he’s gone. “Oh, shit-” he moans ragged, his hips never fully retreating before he’s bucking into you again. “Oh, sweet girl, fuck-” he gasps. “Always so perfect, feel so perfect around me, stars, baby-” he praises, his hips moving at a comfortable, steady pace now. 

You moan around him, eyes rolling back at how good and heavy he feels coasting the expanse of your tongue. Your spit drips further down your chin and neck with each thrust, the messiness of it all mirroring itself between your thighs. Your hands leave the expanse of your thighs and reach for the blankets underneath you. As best as you can, you shuffle them in between you, using it to grind your hips on it, giving you a much needed relief. The material catches on your clit deliciously, pulling a muffled gasp from your throat, sending the sensation up Din’s spine. 

“Oh, fuck, look at you,” he groans, his eyes fighting to stay open at the raw pleasure coursing through his veins as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster. “So pretty, baby, fuck- thank you, pretty girl,” he rambles. “Maker, you feel so damn good.” 

Your moans and whines don’t stop, they reverberate off each metal wall and into his ears, providing him with the sweetest song. Din, ever the talker, is long lost in the way you feel and the way you move. 

“Keep moving those hips, sweet girl, rub that pretty pussy on our blankets, baby.” 

“Gonna cum like that again, baby? Gonna make a mess where we sleep?” 

“Shit, gonna make me lick it up and clean it? Please make me clean it, baby,” he whines, his hips beginning to falter. 

The last thing he says to you is what sends you over the edge, your fingers gripping the blankets below you, bringing it flush against your core as if it were Din’s curls you’re hanging onto. Your hips speed up, chasing the orgasm that is just right there, and with one last thrust forward, you’re cumming. You’re breathing heavily through your nose, tears streaming down your face as you whimper around his dick, begging for the one thing you know he’s not gonna give you. 

With a few more thrusts, you can feel his cock start to twitch, and just as you suspected, he pulls out of you before he can finish. 

“Baby, no,” you cry, leaning yourself forward, chasing after him. Right away, he’s dropping down to his knees, hands still on either side of your face as he’s finally eye level with you. 

“Baby, cyar’ika, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” he repents, his chest rising and falling heavily, still out of breath from edging himself. “I just- I didn’t- I… I wanted to cum somewhere else, baby,” his voice falls quieter, shyer. 

Your scowl fades, forming into a more mischievous demeanor, more hungry. You can’t quite argue his reasoning. Because, you, too, would very much like him to finish… elsewhere. “Yeah, baby?” You taunt. “And where do you wanna cum, sweet boy?”

He swallows thickly, his needy eyes on yours, blacked with a ferality he’s addicted to. “In- inside,” he whispers. 

“Inside?” you’re quick to repeat. “Wanna cum inside me, sweet boy? Fill me up? I’ve made so many messes today, is it your turn to make one, baby?”

He leans in to meet your kiss, but you pull away slightly. Answer me, your face tells him. 

“Y-yeah- yes, stars, yes- fuck- please, baby, I wanna cum inside you, wanna make a mess of you so fucking bad, please-” he starts to answer. Satisfied, you cut him off with your lips on his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lips never breaking the seal, you pull him over you as you lay yourself down on your guys’ bed, scooting farther up for your head to reach a pillow, your back barely missing your puddle of arousal. Din multitasks, grabbing one of the other near pillows and placing it underneath your hips as your body lands on the ground. Your legs are already hooked onto his waist, not giving him the space to stray too far. 

Once you’re settled, Din’s hand is cradling the back of your head while the other reaches for his cock, covered in your wetness and leaking with his own arousal. He guides himself to you, running his tip along your slick folds, stopping to tap on your clit before bringing himself back down to your entrance. He breaks the kiss when he does this, his eyes laser focused on where you two connect. His hand on the back of your head pushes to angle you down, so you can watch, too, both of you observing and listening to the lewdness of it all. 

Finally, his head catches at your entrance, pushing himself in slowly. He’s always a stretch, always something you’ll never quite really get used to, but you love the feeling. Obsessed, even. There are some days where you rile him up on purpose just so he gives it to you, no preparation or foreplay. On those days, he has you screaming, your fingernails digging deep into his back to tether yourself to reality in some kind of way. On his softer days, you have to beg him to, reassure him that it doesn’t hurt—in a bad way. 

As soon as he’s seated all the way to the hilt, he pulls back out entirely before he thrusts back in. You both moan out at the action, your pussy immediately releasing a fresh new wave of arousal around him. “Oh, fuck,” you both mutter at the same time, your eyes meet, and a euphoric smile graces each of your faces. 

“Y-you feel so good, baby, s-so fucking big,” you mewl, your hands tightening their hold around his neck, both the tips of your noses kissing each other. 

“It’s like you were made- fuck-” he stutters, his hips slowing for a brief moment, allowing himself to really feel you. “It’s like I was made for you,” he corrects himself. “I was made for you,” he says again, leaning in to slot his lips against yours.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” you say against his lips. I love you. “And I was made for you,” you squeak out, your head bobbing back and forth as the pleasure brings your mind further and further into space. 

“Shit, mesh’la,” he grits between his teeth. His hips speed up at that, loving the way his native tongue sounds on yours. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he repeats back to you. “I’m yours, cyar’ika. Yours,” he murmurs, his head crashing into the crook of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting at the sweaty flesh. 

He sits up on his haunches for a second, hooking the crook of his elbows into your knees before leaning back over you—the angle allowing him to hit so deep and allowing his pubic area to stimulate your pulsing nerve with every thrust in—you scream out as he repeatedly makes you feel things that no one has ever been able to do, not even yourself. 

“Din,” you keen, his name leaving your mouth like a sinful prayer. “Din, baby, please, I think I’m gonna- fuck-”

“Gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” He smirks. “Fuck, I’m never gonna stop saying this- you’re so fucking perfect. Come on, baby, cum for me, fucking soak me. Soak me before I make you fucking overflow with me, my sweet girl,” he snarls, his lips meeting yours in a bruising kiss, truly a dance of tongue and spit as he fucks into you at the same pace that brought you to yet another climax. 

Your hands yank on his fluffy curls, back arching into his body as much as this restricting angle allows you to. “Din, oh my-! Fuck- so fucking good, fuck-” you wail out, your heart beating out of your chest as your pussy pulses around his cock, making an utter mess between your two lower halves. 

The flutter of you and the instant wetness consuming him is what sends Din to his finish line. He continues thrusting, shakily, through his own orgasm, his load coating every inch of you, both inside and out. You wanted a mess, so he truly gave you a mess. 

He releases the hold on your legs to wrap his arms around you, his entire body flush against yours as your legs wrap themselves tightly around him again. He’s still inside you, his hips softly still moving in and out as he leaves kisses all along your lips, your jawline, your neck. 

The way you feel, full of him and him, has your hips meeting his small advances, both of you reveling in the aftershock of your highs as you use the pleasure to ease you back down. 

“You okay, mesh’la?” Din asks eventually when you both come to an exhausted, satiated halt. 

“Perfect, my sweet boy,” you smile, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “You okay, though?” You ask hesitantly, and not about what you two just did together. He brings his lips to yours. Soft, and not in a way to arouse you again. In a way that says thank you and I love you in a way spoken tongue will never be able to convey.

“I will be,” he answers truthfully. “Pick a planet, you can pick me apart after we get food.”

“Sounds like a deal, baby.”

“Come, let’s get cleaned up.” He kisses your forehead before he untangles himself and pulls you up to your feet as well, both of you making your way to the refresher. 

In the corner of his eye, he sees his now semi-shiny boot, starting to dry off in the midst of everything else you two did. He smirks to himself. 

You catch it, of course. “What’re you smiling at, Djarin?”

“Nothing,” he says nonchalantly. “Just… I clean my armor and boots after every bounty.”

“And?” You ask, still not realizing where he’s headed. 

“I don’t know if I wanna clean my boots anymore.”

Your eyebrows raise to the middle of your forehead, eyes bulging out of your face. “Din!” you slap his chest. Then, your face goes stern. “You will be cleaning those boots more often if you want me to do that again."

Oh. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

End notes:

Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you guys enjoyed this one! Please let me know what you guys think, I really love hearing your guys’ reactions and feedback!🫶

Also, did y’all clock how many orgasms reader had in this damn thing?! Coochie of fucking steel fr 😭😭

Moon divider by @saradika-graphics 🩶

@pedrostories

[onsunnyside]

so i just gotta say that this (✨spicy link✨) is giving steve x bambi vibes with the subtitles and the way he’s holding her and the way he manhandles her—fuck!!! 😩😵‍💫

third eye!steve is a sweet but mean dom 😵‍💫😵‍💫 confirmed

[vivwritesfics]

PLEASE i need to read your thots on lestappen x bimbo!reader. i think it would be so cute

I've been thinking about this for DAAAAAAAAAYS

lestappen love their girl

she's all smiles and giggles

charles and max love taking care of her

there's little nothing better for them

they spoil her rotten

Charles loves taking her on holidays

and Max loves takes her shopping

like, seriously, there is nothing better for max than seeing her eyes light up as he, with arms full of shopping bags, paid for something she'd just admired

Charles loves taking his partners on holiday

loved seeing his girl in her bathing suit as they lounged around a pool

it was rare max would take his shirt off on these holidays

when he did, his partners made him feel so fucking loved

lets talk races

the red bull merch is nice, but not pretty compared to the ferrari merch

that was why max couldn't be hurt when his girl wore a ferrari shirt

she was still supporting him at the end of the day

the one exception to this was at Zandvoort, the dutch grand prix, where she would wear orange

it's not easy to pull off orange, but she does it

the boys get her whatever she wants

that was how they found themselves with Max's cats and a dog

she has her own dressing room, with a walk in closet and all the makeup she could ever need

Max's camera roll was mostly pictures of her

she posed for them, blowing a kiss towards the camera

she fixed charles' terrible fashion and they became known as the 'fashionable couple'

there were a lot of jokes with the fans that max was their third wheel

because there was no getting that man to wear anything but his skinny jeans

lestappen are obsessed with their girl

showing her off every chance they get

as long as she was happy, they were happy

[wooyoungmybelovedhusband]

hard (hand) thoughts about dombf! Joshua (headcannons)

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Hand kink, spanking kink, daddy kink, Joshua is DOM, reader is just extremely needy for him, dirty talking, mirror sex (been too into this lately if y'all haven't noticed hehe-), Joshua is a fucking tease btw- mood

WORD COUNT: 711

Join my taglist : □□

[A/n : I've been having THOTS about joshua- *cough* and his hands *cough* so here we goo]

FEEDBACKS AND REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!

Dombf!Joshua who would instantly know how much you love his hands, as he catches you zoning out into your fantasies while licking your lips at the sight of his hands for the first time.

Dombf! Joshua who has had enough of your secret fantasies by the third time he catches you gawking at his arms, while he worked out at your personal gym. He pulls you towards him, and in on his thick thighs while his hand stays on the soft skin of your own thighs. You wince at the cold metal touching your skin, your body turning all hot and heated up out of the blue. “Is my pretty baby hiding something from me?” The words you never (always) wanted to come from his mouth, finally spoke out. “What?” You could barely be surprised your voice has betrayed you when it turned high-pitched.

Dombf! Joshua who smiles at you in the most innocent way possible, but not knowing his future actions, you felt your adrenaline rush at that. “Mhm is there really nothing you're hiding from me, baby?” His hands squeeze your inner thighs, moving closer to your heat. And out of nowhere, his middle fingers press down on your hold through the fabric of your shorts, only to feel it soaked wet.

Dombf! Joshua would cock his eyebrows at your ‘sudden’ wetness, only for you to immediately resort to whining as you, now, grind down on his fingers. But a louder whine erupts from you as he retreats his fingers away from you. “Tell Daddy what you want, baby. That's the only way you're getting it.” Joshua turns you around to face the mirror while he places his chin on your shoulder.

Dombf! Joshua who would have you begging in minutes, tears at the corner of your eyes threatening to fall while you say: “Daddy, just want your fingers, pleaseplease- please” Over and over again. He would smile at you so kindly, only to plunge his fingers deep inside you.

Dombf! Joshua who's two fingers are enough to have you arching your back into his chest, while your legs wiggle under his hold.

Dombf! Joshua who would make you cum around his fingers, faster than you'd expected, and proceed to make you ride out your orgasm by riding his fingers. And order you to make yourself cum yet again from his fingers.

Dombf! Joshua who wouldn't take long to catch up on your spanking kink when further into your relationship. He likes to think you've got the kink as a result of your love and lust for his hands. (which he was totally right about)

Dombf! Joshua who'd give you a stern look when you act out or catch an attitude with him, threatening you about spanking you till your ass was as red as your sheets (you have red satin sheets), but he knew well that gave you a better reason to push his buttons.

Dombf! Joshua who would love to wear metal rings, while spanking you so he could hear your loud whimpers and yelps every time his large hand came down on your bottom, inflicting the pleasurable pain which always had you dripping so much for him that he'd barely have to do foreplay before he got to snuggly fit his thick cock inside you.

Dombf! Joshua who would later use your kinks against you when he felt mischievous. He would simply come up behind you, letting his large hands travel to your ass squeezing harshly while placing his hand on the counter top. “What you watchin’ baby?” He would ask you with a very normal tone, as if he didn't just squeeze your ass hard till you yelped. He would further add fuel to the fire by slapping your ass before moving away to grab a bottle of water. He knew well your eyes weren't on the screen, but rather on his thick biceps which were a result of working out a few minutes ago.

Dombf! Joshua who would smirk knowingly when you give him the ‘fuck me’ eyes right then and there, and would totally make fun of you for it. “What? Turned on just by a spank to your ass? You love my hands so much don't you baby?” (he's so cocky gawd)

©️ WOOYOUNGMYBELOVEDHUSBAND.

[1ns4n3j3st3rf0rlyf3]

Sometimes I feel like I am a child controlling a body too big for me. 

When I'm nervous, my heartbeat engulfs me. 

I feel so small that my heartbeat is all that I experience. 

it's so much bigger than I am. 

Sometimes when I am made aware of my body I start to feel clumsy. 

I get in my head about whether I am controlling the body well. 

At this point my small inner self would prefer to be housed inside a ribcage that isn't my own 

I want to not be the only one that's responsible for something so much larger. 

I need help becoming digestible bc I constantly have heart burn trying to consume myself.  

[beefrobeefcal]

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Joel Miller & his Darlin' One Shot: A Trouble Shared is a Trouble Halved Summary: You and Joel navigate settling down in Jackson as a couple with its ups and downs. (Post Outbreak)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,900

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, fingering (f receiving), talk of eating, weight gain, oral (f receiving), angst, established relationship growing pains, argument

Author's Notes: Am I back? Maybe baby! I'm delighted to finally do what was asked of me in a poll and I thank you all for your love and patience.

Thanks be to @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3, and @notjustjavierpena for their eyes, thots, and brains. And thank you to @noxturnalpascal for the THOT that gave life to this fic so very long ago.

“Eatin’ like it's your last day on earth, Miller...”, you teased with a wry smile as you walked past him in the dining hall.

“Shut it...”, he grumbled, a bit of pink flushing his cheeks. He took another bite of gravy-flooded mashed potatoes.

“What helping’s this? Third? Fourth?”

Joel looked at you, exasperated. “The fuck? Can't a man enjoy his girl’s cookin’ without the third degree?”

You smiled at him, loving how much of a rise you were getting. It had been a few months since you and Joel had your first encounter, and while nothing was made official, more often than not, you’d find yourself entwined with Joel in your bed at night. His heavy, full stomach pressed against your back as you both slept peacefully. While you enjoyed your time together, you were beginning to feel something was lacking, hence your teasing.

The cold glare he gave immediately dampened the playful banter between you. You felt a twist in your mood and sour heat in your stomach.

He shook his turkey leg at you, giving you a scolding look, and warned, “You better knock that shit off, Darlin’... or so help me, I’m not gonna - .”

“Not gonna what?”, you asked, getting closer, and you voice dropped down to a cool whisper only he could hear. “Not gonna fuck me? Pretty sure haven’t been doing that lately anyway, so what’d be the difference, huh?”

He sat back with wide eyes and his mouth open in shock, and his full belly sat rounded out on his lap. You stood up, brow raised, and arms crossed.

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?!”

Joel was affectionate, but usually too tired, full or both to do anything but let you ride him. And not to say you didn't enjoy it, but it was starting to feel a bit one sided. He hadn’t done anything beyond finger you a bit to get you ready and then sweet talk you into being on top again. He’d apologize and praise you, but you wanted more. Especially now that there was more to him.

His eating habits had really started to impact his physique; his jawline was softer, his arms and thighs were thicker, but his stomach was truly the star of the show. He’d made do with the clothes he had for as long as he could, but at the rate he was eating and the limited physical activity he’d been doing, he had to trade labor and time for new shirts and pants that would fit him. And on nights when he ate like this, you swore you could hear the seams praying to their polyester gods for mercy.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“Coulda fooled me!”, he snapped, louder than he meant. “Seems to do the trick and make you whine and mewl like a beaten dog almost every night!”

You felt your face get hot as a few heads in the dining hall turned towards you. He sighed and his eyes softened as he saw your face fall a bit. But you held firm, pulling your mouth into a scowl.

“Not every night, nowhere near it. And I’m the one doing the work. I’m the one fuckin’ you!”, you hissed.

Before giving him a chance to say anything else, you quickly turned and went back into the kitchen.

*****

After storming out of the dining hall, you’d spent the rest of your shift cleaning the entire kitchen, probably to a degree it hadn’t been since its installation. You’d scrubbed and polished every surface with enough fury in your eyes that no one dared step in. It wasn’t until you heard the jukebox turn off and see the lights in the dining hall dim that you realized you’d been at this for a few hours.

As you leaned back against the counter, head down and thinking over how your and Joel’s interaction had escalated like that, you heard a small voice say your name. You looked up and saw Sally, one of the other kitchen attendants.

“Sorry - don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m tryin’ to close up and Joel won’t leave. Says he’s not leavin’ without’cha.”

You scoffed out a ‘for fuck’s sake’ then walked to the swinging doors, only to see Joel, still seated where he was before, leaning back in his chair and picking his teeth with a toothpick. His eyes met yours, and you knew just from the look he was giving, he had a lot more to say.

“Joel, go home. Need to close up and can’t if you’re here.”

He looked behind you at Sally and gave her a small wave. “I’ll help her close up, Sally. You run on home. We got this.”

“Joel!”, you hissed.

“Go on now, Sally.”

His tone left little room for Sally to argue, and she muttered a ‘good night’ as she passed by you then Joel as head made her way out the door.  You sighed, clenching your jaw, feeling the frustration and anger that you’d just weeded down in your cleaning frenzy begin to rise again. Joel watched Sally leave, then turned back to you, smug look on his face, made all the smugger as he noted your irritation.

“Darlin’, cut that shit out and come’ere.”, he crooned with a small grin, hilding his hand out to you.

You glared at him, not moving from your position.

He kept his hand out and raised his eyebrows and let out a huff. “Don’t make this old man beg, baby…”

“I think this old man has a lot more ground to cover than just beggin’.”, you responded cooly, crossing your arms across your chest. Before Joel could answer, you turned and went back to the kitchen to finish your duties.

You figured there was a 50 / 50 chance of Joel following you in, so as the door swung open and his heavy footsteps lumbered towards you, you knew he was at least picking up slightly on the passive aggressive breadcrumbs you’d dropped. You kept your back to him, drying cutlery and putting them into their respective bins.

“Darlin’…”

Joel’s voice was set low in a growl, leaving you unable to tell whether he was angry or aroused. You jumped as his hand grazed your lower back and settled on your waist, giving you a small squeeze.

“You wan’me to beg?”, he huskily growled into the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss to your skin.

“I gotta finish closin’ up, Joel.”, you stated, keeping your voice as even and unaffected as you could muster.

Joel let out a frustrated sigh-turned-grunt and let you go, stepping back. He leaned back against the wooden shelf behind him, the wood creaking in objection to his weight.

“Fuck, you’re being-“, he started, before letting out a huff. “What has gotten into you?”

Turning around, you were met with something you didn’t anticipate – a dark, sullen, glaring Joel, eyes burning into you.

“Joel-“, you groaned, before he cut you off.

“Don’t fuckin’ Joel me.”, he snapped. “You got a lot of fuckin’ nerve. You know what you said in front of the people eatin’ their food out there? You said I wasn’t fuckin’ you right. And then, I sit here like a goddamned fool, waitin’ for you to finish so we can talk, and you turn your back on me.”

“Joel, I need t-“

“Shut up! I ain’t done talkin’!”

You close your mouth and swallow hard. While you’d seen him get mad before, Joel had never directed it towards you before, and lord almighty, it sucked.

“You think I’m a fuckin’ mind reader? Think I’m gonna know you’re not happy?”, he asked, sounding loud and desperate, as he stood up and stalked towards you.

As he looked down at you, realization of how much bigger he was, in height and weight, came over you.

“I have said someth-“, you tried to argue, but his large hand grabbing yours and tugging you against him stopped you.

“Don’t interrupt me!”, he barked. “You aint said shit! And now you – fuck! No. You know what? Ain’t worth it!”

His eyes glowered down into yours and you in turn felt your eyes begin to sting with tears at the loss of contact. This was the most emotionally charged you’d seen Joel, and you wanted that same energy and passion when he fucked you, not use it to berate you for needing him to give you the same time and attention he showered on the food you cooked for the whole community. You could feel your face getting hot from the anger that was boiling in you over how overlooked you felt, even if it wasn’t entirely true. You were in a heated, frenzied spiral and reason and rationale had abandoned you.

Before you could snap back and tell him how worth it you actually were, Joel’s eyes softened; he let out a deep breath and let go of your arm and stepped back.

“I’ll… I’ll see you at home.”, Joel muttered before he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

You stood silently and watched him leave, feeling your heart break and immolate in your rib cage and hot tears fall down your face. It hit you hard just how hurt you both were.

*****

The house was dark when you walked in the front door. Joel had left no lights on, and you knew Ellie would be at Dina’s house for the night. The only hint you had to deduce that Joel was in fact home was the dim light you saw through his bedroom window as you approached the house. You hung your coat and tucked your boots on the shelf before quietly ascending the stairs to go to your room.

As you tiptoed in the hallways, you passed Joel’s bedroom door and heard him moving around his room. You could see his shadow from the light slipping under his doorway and felt your stomach curdle and sour, your mind jumping to rash conclusions about what he could be doing in there.

Was he packing to move out and get away from you?

Was he trying to clean up to remove your smell?

Was he collecting your things that you’d left in his room so he could hand them to you and tell you to get out?

As the thoughts rippled through your brain, you knew Joel was more methodical than that. He wouldn’t just leave or make you leave like that… would he?

You stepped forward, forgetting about that floorboard. The creak that sang out made both you and Joel’s shadow stop. You kept still for a moment, but the shadow didn’t move either. You were suddenly thrust back into your childhood; the times you were trying to sneak down into the kitchen to grab a snack or watch a blue movie on cable television without your parents catching you.

That fucking floorboard.

The shadow moved slightly, signaling Joel was getting closer to the door, and you moved quickly to your room, no longer caring how much noise you made. As you reached to grab your door handle, you heard Joel’s door pull open.

“Darlin’?”

Your hand clasped the knob, and you closed your eyes, hearing his voice.

“Yeah, Joel?”

You were surprised how soft and calm your voice sounded; it was a stark contrast to the overwhelming, post-anger, anxiety-ridden mess that was your mind.

“Turn around and look at me, Baby.”

“M’tired, Joel… Just gonna go to bed and – “

“I said turn around.”

It wasn’t a request. His tone was gentle, but you could feel it in your bones that this was a command - a soft one, but a command none the less. Your skin prickled in a wave of goosebumps, up your body, culminating at the base of your neck.

Joel must have been able to see the effect he had on you, because the voice he used to speak almost melted the flesh from your bones.

“Darlin’, you’re gonna turn around and look at me. Now.”

You turned around and looked at him. His broad and hefty silhouette stood ominously in his doorway, backlit by the soft glow from his bedroom.

“You comin’ to bed?”, Joel said quietly, but there was an edge to his tone that made your skin once again pebble.

You narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at his question, then shook your head subtly.

“No, Joel. I figured we’d take the night an-“

“And what?”, he snapped, stepping out into the hallway and towards you.

When you didn’t answer, he took another few steps and growled in a lower tone, “And what?!”

Your eyes went wide as he got closer, and your fight or flight kicked in. Taking a step back, you hit your bedroom door, and stumbled through your words. “I… I-I thought… I figured that you’d wanna-“

“That I’d wanna what?”, he snarled, stepping close and his full belly pressed you further into your door.

“Th-that you’d… you’d wanna be… alone to-tonight…”

Joel’s hand came up and he grabbed your chin, forcing your face square to his. “And why d’you think that?”

“Because… because we fought-“

“And you think that gives you the right to not sleep in my bed?”

You were stunned; you had no answer for him, and you also hadn’t ever been this turned on by him with out him already being knuckle deep in your pussy. You swallowed hard and stared back at him. This was a feeling you couldn’t place; it felt like you were slipping under a spell that Joel was casting.

The only response you could finally give was a headshake, and Joel returned it with a curt nod and slight grin.

“Good girl.”, he purred and released your chin.

You followed Joel back into his room, and stood awkwardly as he closed the door. You’d been in his room countless times, and you’d never felt this out of place. You jumped when he put his hands on your hips from behind and pulled you back, the curve of your spine being the perfect angle for his heavy belly to fit against.

“You feel like I’m not takin’ care of you, Darlin’?”, he huskily mewled into your ear before nipping it.

“Joel, I’m sor-“

“Stop.”, he said, abruptly stopping you from finishing your apology.

“We’re past that, Darlin’. Both said things we needed to say, even if we said’em not so nicely.”

You could hear the small smile in his voice and couldn’t help the one that tugged at your mouth slightly. A whisper soft sound came out of you with a sigh. 

But then his tone dipped down, and as he rasped into your ear; one of his hands on your hip slipped to your front as he cupped your denim clad mound.

“You got my attention, baby. You feelin’ needy?”

Your mouth opened, and our flew a feather-light choked whimper. He gripped you roughly and pulled you snug against him, enough so that you could feel his thick and hard cock press against your ass.

“That why you had an attitude with me today? Needed me to fuck you? Fix that ache in your needy pussy?”

You breathed his name out as your brows furrowed and your eyes clenches closed. “Joel…” Your hand snapped on top of his over your crotch, forcing him to apply more pressure and squeeze.

“Need me to remind you that you’re mine?”, he growled before biting the crux of your neck and shoulder.

You nodded, breathing rapidly, then you let out a squeal as he shook your hand off his, then turned and shoved you against the wall. He got close and his hands made quick work in opening and shoving down your jeans. His eyes snapped up to yours and his hand dove between your legs.

“Fuck, baby…”, he sighed, eyes rolling back as he felt how wet you were. “My poor girl’s floodin’ the basement and it’s’all my fault.”

You grabbed his wrist, stabilizing yourself, and let whining pants out with each breath as his middle finger began to dip in an out of your hole. The tip of his thumb gently circled you’re aching clit.

“Yeah… I know I been neglectin’ you, baby girl… but not ‘cause of nothin’ you did… no, baby… you’re just keepin’ me too well fed and I’m fit to be tied by the time we get home… if I could fuck you the way you deserve every night…”

“Oh fuck… Joel, I need y –“

“But you always lettin’ me get away with being lazy an’watchin’ your perfect tits bounce while you fuck this fat old man…”, he rasped, his lids heavy as he watched your face contort in need. “Jesus, Darlin’, you got e’ry right to be cross with me…”

As much as you loved his voice, you needed more. Fisting his shirt, you pulled his face to yours and sucked him into a desperate and messy kiss, teeth and tongues colliding, and it was sharp and splitting. You didn’t need gentle – you needed him.

He finally pulled back, breathing heavily, same as you, and a grin tugged at his parted lips.

“Oh, Darlin’…”, he cooed, finger and thumb still working your cunt in tandem. He leaned in, ghosting his mouth over yours and asked in a voice so soft, you could have cried. “I need you to know how bad you got me, baby… tell me what I can do to prove it.”

Emboldened by his lust-blown eyes with heavy lids looking at you desperately, you put your hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle push down. A smile pulled at one side of his mouth, instantly understanding your silent request. He stepped back and groaned as he lowered himself down, joints cracking as he got on one knee, and he looked up as he pulled your jeans down further then helped you step out, one leg at a time. As he de-robed your second leg, he lifted it over his shoulder, and he scooted forward, and your eyes stayed trained on him, catching every detail, every twitch of his face as he breathed huskily and inhaled your scent. You watched his eyes flutter and roll back, like you were a buffet of fine cuisine, and he was a starved man. He pressed his nose in your crux and nudged in further, panting and swearing under his breath as he let your aroma and essence envelope him.

He took his time, as if he was making sure to catch every flavour, every note of your taste and smell, almost punishing himself for allowing you to feel unappreciated. His hands reached behind and pulled your hips forward into his face and you whimpered out a gasp as your shoulders planted against the wall behind you being the only thing keeping you upright.

“Joel…”, you breathed out, swallowing, trying to alleviate the dry mouth your open mouth breathing had caused. “Joel, please…”

He groaned into your warmth and opened his mouth, finally letting himself have a taste. His tongue licked out between your folds, starting slowly, but began to increase in intensity as he realized this was his favourite thing to savour. He grunted and panted as he lapped at you, his grip that held you so firmly to his face hurting you in the absolute best way possible.

Your fingers pulled his hair, aiding in keeping your core tightly affixed to his gaping maw, and you rocked your hip, mewling and crying out, begging him for more. Joel was in no position to deny you want you needed, not only because of the iron-clad connection currently created by both of your individual efforts, but he was eating his favourite thing. He’d denied you both for so long, he would happily suffocate between your thighs before ever taking a proper breath again if it paid the price of his sin. The noises he made as he ate and licked and devoured you sounded obscene - he sounded like a starved and feral dog, gnawing at a cut of meat tossed to him out of pity. You’re sure that if you saw his eyes, they’d be a black abyss like a shark’s as it bit down on its next meal.

The sounds he was ripping and peeling out of you were music to his ears, championing him further, pushing him harder to make you give him more of those delicious noises. He was rocking his hips in time with his mouth and tongue, letting his throbbing cock rut against the inside of his jean’s rough zipper. Between that, your taste and your fingers pulling his scalp taught with hair, he was in pure ecstasy.

He brought his hand attached to the shoulder your leg was propped up on and pushed two thick fingers into your core and began to pump them in and out - again, in time with his own hips’ rhythm. The white-hot burning coil that Joel had been slowly winding with his mouth finally sprung loose and snapped. You arched your back, silently screaming out as your body went rigid, and vaguely heard Joel growl. He continued to suck hard on your twitching and swollen clit and punched his fingers up into you as your rode out your orgasm. You heard liquid hitting the wood floor before you heard Joel let out a series of high-pitched groans.

His fingers slowed and his mouth was panting hot, quick breaths on your aching core. You looked down at him, chest heaving, to see him shakily pull his fingers from you and shove them in his mouth. Joel was a beautiful and carnal sight: breathing hard in grunts as he sucked his fingers clean. The act looked primitive, like he’d accessed his baser instincts, and he was satisfying a basic human need, a millennia in the making.

“Joel.”, you croaked, and he looked up at you with blurred eyes that slowly began to focus. He slowly pulled himself up, heaving his heavy belly. You helped him come back to his fully height and he leaned into you, pressing his forehead to yours. You could smell yourself on him as he kissed you softly before resuming your connection through foreheads.

“That was…”

“Yeah… fuck yeah… taste so good.”

“I wanna return the fav-“

Your hand cupped what you thought would be his hard cock, but stopped when you felt him softening and his jeans were warm and damp. You pulled your head back and looked at him, prompting a huffed laugh from Joel, pink flushing up his neck to his cheeks.

“You’re my favourite meal, Darlin’. You got me hooked.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

He pulled you away from the wall and onto the bed. He laid back and groaned as his spine relaxed. His full belly domed above him, moving gently up and down with each breath and you sat up, giving it a rub.

“You ate well tonight…”, you cooed, unbuckling his belt and opening his jean to access the mess he made.

He chuckled, supporting his head on an arm as he watched you with a grin. “Couldn’t help it… you serve food too good to not destroy myself on it, Darlin’.”

You shot him a look as you peeled back his damp and sticky underwear.

“Like I said, Darlin’…  you serve up a good meal.”

beef's glossary: The term "blue movie" is an old-fashioned slang term used to describe pornographic films, usually of the low budget variety.

TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @nerdieforpedro  @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @tightjeansjavi@rubyfruitjungle@lilmizmoz @strang3lov3

[sugaggukkie]

does the anthology really drop next week?

[toxicanonymity]

more raider joel PLEAAAASE 🙏

Failed Escape

4k, raider!Joel x f!reader / raider master / joel

Mood board by @milla-frenchy

SUMMARY: when Joel brings you to a familiar area for a raid, you run away but get stopped by FEDRA officers with bad intentions, worse than Joel. Joel saves you.

WARNINGS: NSFW I8+ dark, violence, assault, manhandling, captivity, restraints, exhibitionism, humiliation, unsafe dubcon vPIV, fingering, oral, filth, orgasm denial, cockwarming, police violence, allusions to very dark fedra activity.

A/N: This is 4th in the Raider series but can be read alone. credits / shoutouts - @romanarose escape ask, touch-erase anon, rope kink anon, many others with thots & thirst.

“I'm sorry," you sob, and you really are.  It's the second raid you’ve been on this week. You thought you recognized the forest behind the house, making it your best chance to escape.  You don’t have anything or anyone to go home to, but you’re hungry.  You’re tired.  You don't sleep. Sometimes you wake up with Joel’s arms too tight around you. If you move, they tighten more and you can hardly breathe.

Those things on their own might be tolerable, but the rest of Joel's men are the real problem. That first day, Joel told you he’d make sure nothing happened to you.  He made it very clear to you and everyone else that you were his and no one else could touch you. At this point you don’t always mind his touch, but you worry about what could happen to you if something happened to Joel.  The guys are disgusting, and not just the ones Joel originally saved you from, as you learned at the stash house.

There are a lot, and they’re brutal with their prey.  They’re not just rough, they’re mean, degrading.  They know they aren’t supposed to look at you, but they still steal a hungry glance when Joel’s not watching.  From what you’ve overheard them doing to their victims, your greatest fear is that Joel will die or get overthrown and you’ll be at their mercy. The day Joel first claimed you, he warned you about those men and how much worse they'd be. At this point, you've seen and heard enough to know it's true.

But even that prospect doesn't sound bad right now compared to what you just went through.  You never should have run.

- - - - -

You stumbled through the woods and when you were almost to the other side, you spotted three armed men in uniform - FEDRA.  You called, “Help!” You were relieved.  They could get you somewhere safe. But when they turned around, it was only a couple of seconds before they aimed their rifles at you.  You fell to your knees begging for help.  

They laughed and talked to each other like you weren’t there.  

“I dunno, she looks infected to me,” the tallest one said.  

“Sure are seein’ a lot of infected this week,” another said and elbowed the tall guy in the ribs.  

The apparent leader of the pack ordered the men to take your clothes off.  They stripped you of everything, even your underwear, and felt you up while they were at it.  One of them stuck a finger in you.   Then, the leader put a single bullet in a revolver, spun the cylinder,  handed it to the tall one, and said “your turn.”  

 "Already? C'mon, I don't wanna fuck another dead girl."  

“At least they can’t scratch you up kickin’ and screamin’,” the leader said.

“Yeah, so what’s the point?” the third one said.  “That’s half the fun.”  

"Better say a prayer then," the leader said. "Go on," he urged. 

The man put the muzzle to your temple and your life flashed before your eyes.  He pulled the trigger and the click made you wince.  You kept your eyes pinched shut and when you slowly opened them, you could hardly believe you were alive. 

Leaves crunched behind you in the woods.  "ANIMALS, all of you," Joel boomed, and you turned around to see him with his rifle aimed at the men.  

"Get down and cover your ears, baby." Joel didn’t even look at you. 

Without so much as blinking, he shot the leader right in the forehead, then kept walking toward them.  Shot another one like it was the easiest thing he had ever done. Not even a flinch. 

Meanwhile, the tall one, the one with the revolver, charged straight at him but Joel still didn’t flinch.  He calmly used the butt of his rifle to strike him square in the face. When the man fell to the ground, Joel straddled him and pummeled his face.  

Still straddling the man, Joel asked you what they did to you.  You told him about the revolver first. Joel took it from the man, spun the cylinder, then held it out for you, but you didn't take it. You were cowering naked on the ground.  “Go ahead,” Joel said.  The man pleaded for his life.  You hesitated, and Joel said “Now,” firmly.  You crawled closer, took the revolver, aimed, and pulled the trigger.  The man screamed and winced, but the gun only clicked.  Joel took it back, spun it again, and handed it back to you.  “Again.”  That time, you shot the man in the chest and the recoil sent you back on your ass.  It wasn’t a kill shot.  The man tried to speak but could only gurgle.  Blood spilled out of his mouth. Your face went cold and you were shaking. 

Joel made sure the man was disarmed, then came over and started putting your shirt back on you. 

"Is that what you want? Shared and slaughtered by those pigs?” He motioned to the three men on the ground.  You started crying, still sprawled on the dirt

- - - - -

Joel puts his rifle around his back, squats down, grabs you by both elbows, and violently forces you to your feet.

"Breakin' my goddamn heart, sweet pea."  He seethes with disappointment.

"I'm sorry," you repeat through your tears, still begging his eyes to meet yours.  Finally, he puts his rifle around his back and looks at you. You must look so pathetic.  Crying, knees covered in dirt, still naked from the waist down.  The dying man stops gurgling.  You whimper yet again, "I'm sorry."

He looks you up and down and seems to soften a little as he responds, "I know, baby.”  But notably, he doesn't say it's okay. He doesn't say he forgives you. You collapse into his chest and sob. He pulls you closer and you're startled when his arousal swells into you.

"How'd they touch you?" Joel asks, then clenches his jaw as though bracing himself for impact.  At least he knows they didn't fuck you since they were all still dressed, to his great relief. 

Joel has your pants in his hands waiting for your answer. You tell him.  

He sighs and squats down.  He wedges his hand between your thighs and you're wet with arousal from feeling his wood.  "Was it like this?" He asks, sliding his fingers against your folds.  You don't know what to say.  It wasn’t like this because it didn’t feel good. He plunges two fingers into you and asks, "like this?" He digs the heel of his palm into his arousal.

“Kind of”

His face tenses into a snarl as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. What does 'kind of' mean?” 

“It hurt.”

“Too many fingers?” 

“No, just one, but too rough.  And too dry.” Your cheeks burn.  

His eyes light up in grim satisfaction.  “Ok, baby.”  He takes his fingers out and wraps his arms around you again.  You start crying again. 

“I’m sorry,” you say for the millionth time.

“I know you are, sweet pea."  He brushes the tears off your cheeks.   “Wanna be sorry here or in the house?” You can only assume what he means.  You just hope it won’t be too brutal, given your betrayal. 

His breath deepens, and he’s slowly stroking a larger bulge in his skin-tight pants now.  You have to think about it for a moment.  You’re anxious to get away from the dead FEDRA bodies, but the other raiders and victims are still in the house. 

Joel adds, “Or in the van?”    

“In the van."

He brushes the dirt off you and helps you step into your pants.

-

When you get back to the house they’ve been raiding, Joel doesn’t take you straight to the van.  There are a few bodies strewn about.  The hostages are all in one room.  Joel takes you to a bathroom away from them.  

He locks the door, hangs his rifle on the towel hook, then turns on the shower.  He strips you and gets behind you, both of you facing the mirror.  He asks, “They do anything else to you? Touch you anywhere else?” You tell him they touched your breasts.   He inhales deeply and clenches his jaw, then cups both your breasts from behind, slowly massaging them.  "Like this?" His hardness presses into you.  

"Kind of, but it didn’t feel good." 

Half his mouth smiles, and in the mirror you notice him scanning your body head to toe. Then he turns you around to face him.

His hands engulf your ass cheeks, pulling you into his pants.  The feeling of his arousal against your front makes you weak.

A massive hand drifts to the center of your ass, and his middle finger lightly glides up and down your crack.   “They touch you in here?”

“No.” 

"Good. They're all gone now, okay baby?” 

-

The water is ice cold as usual and your nipples are painfully hard as Joel lathers them.  He washes your whole body, looking at you like a juicy leg of lamb. When he goes between your legs, you sense his intentions and warn him, “Um, you can’t put soap in there.”

He pauses, bemused.  “Why’s that , sweet pea?”

“It’s bad for you, you can get an infection.”

He looks at the soap contemplatively and says “okay, baby.”  

He rinses you off and tells you to sit on the toilet seat.  Then he sits on the ground, his legs to each side of the toilet, knees up.  He gets you to spread your legs, come to the edge of the seat, and lean back.  The way he’s breathing as he eyes your pussy gives you butterflies.  

He puts your knees over his shoulders.  He drags two knuckles down your slippery folds, then extends and inserts his fingers and curls them, dragging his thick digits against your walls, trying to scrape off any trace of FEDRA. The smallest skin particle would be too much.  It's extreme, but you don’t mind how it feels – physically, at least.  It’s also not a bad view.  His neck veins  bulge, his eyes are dark.

He looks like he has a job to do, and he goes about it quite industriously.  His beard scratches your inner thighs and outer lips. He licks a thick stripe from your taint to your clit, then drags his tongue through every crevice of your folds on each side, making you squirm with tension.  He swirls his tongue around your clit and sucks your hood. Then he plunges his tongue onto you and your whole body feels hollow and light.  His tongue is so thick it's like being fucked.  You shudder and he glances up darkly.  His lips move diligently with the effort and he sucks like he’s trying to cave your walls in on his tongue.  Your thighs quiver and he glances up at you again.  When you're right about to come, he pulls away.  

"Good as new," he says as he wipes his beard.

You were so close to coming and you can hardly bear the tension. 

As though reading your mind, he says, "This ain’t for fun, baby. Not today.  Not after what you did."

He braces his hands on your thighs and stands up with a groan, sporting major wood.  "Stay here," he says coldly.  You squeeze your thighs together.  He takes his rifle off the back of the door and puts it on.  He leaves for a few minutes and takes all your clothes with him including your underwear.  

As soon as he walks out of the bathroom, one hand goes between your legs and the other to your breast, working toward the quickest release possible, biting your lip.  The vision of him between your legs is blinding your mind’s eye from thinking about anything else. You come just in time, covering your own mouth with your inner arm. You feel a wave of shame after you come  - how depraved to get off in this situation. But the tension was too much to take. 

Joel comes back with a duffle bag and a dress. He seems to notice your post-orgasm flush.   He puts the dress on you and it's not a minidress but it's shorter than you're comfortable with, especially if you don't get to wear underwear.  It’s thin, too.  He strokes your inner thighs and gives you an accusatory look. 

"You come when I say." 

Your face burns and you nod. 

"Told you I wasn't gonna let anything happen to you. . . then I did."  He looks guilty, almost anguished. "You're gonna learn to do what I say, understand?"

You nod. 

"For your own good, sweet pea."

"Yeah," you whisper. 

You try to tug the dress down and hesitantly ask, "Can I have, um-" 

"No," Joel says and slings the duffle bag over his shoulder. "Got you some but you're not gonna need it for a while."  

You swallow thickly and remember you chose the van.  

-

Joel manhandles you into the passenger seat, takes some paracord out of the duffle bag, and ties your wrists in a special knot.  Then he ties them behind your head to the headrest.  

He strings rope around the headrest and across your chest in each direction forming an X across your chest with your breasts on either side.  He ties that to the wrist restraints. The rope digs into your neck uncomfortably. 

“Try to get out and it’ll only get tighter.  And I’m gonna know about it.”  

“I won’t.” You’re earnest. 

“Hope not,” he says.  “‘Cause I’ve got a lot more of this.”  He holds up a bunch of paracord, puts it back in the bag, then looks you up and down and wets his lips.  “Looks good on ya, too.”  He shoves the duffle bag behind your seat.  “Real good.”  

He slides his hand between your legs and shoves his middle finger right inside you. His head falls back and his eyelids are heavy.   You’re still wet enough that it doesn’t hurt.  He thumbs your clit while pushing two, then three fingers in and out of you.  Then he stills his fingers inside you.  He strokes the bulge in his pants with the heel of his palm.  His mouth falls open and he studies your face.  Then he flattens his fingers and rubs your whole pussy.  It feels so good, so unbearably good.  Your spine arches.  He takes his time and brings you to the brink again, then cruelly removes his hand.  

“Stay here.” He points at the rope.  “Remember – try to get out, it’ll only get tighter.”

You nod, clenching your thighs together, barely paying attention.

“It’s for your own good.” The tension feels like torture.

-

A few minutes later, Joel comes back out to the van, and thank god.  Your hands are getting numb and the rope is chafing your neck and cleavage.    He opens the door and examines the paracord around your wrists.  “Good girl,” he says.  He looks you up and down as though deciding what to do with you.  He exhales with a puff of his cheeks and rubs the protrusion in his tight pants.  At this point, nothing would surprise you, and you wonder if you should have made a move in the bathroom to suck him off. 

He swiftly unties the paracord then unbuckles his belt, gazing at you in a dark trance. 

He aggressively shoves his strong arm under you, then you make space and he wedges himself between you and the seat. You’re in his lap again.  

Initially, he pulls you back into him and your breath hitches when you feel his hard package beneath you.   His hips lift and his arousal swells harder. He breathes heavily and his chest inflates against your back.  Then he extends his legs to make a downward slope and scoots you forward on his thighs.  You hear his zipper come down.  When you chose the van, you didn’t know it would be this.  You’re humiliated, but your body purrs in anticipation.   

You’re startled by the van’s back doors opening.  

“Come on,” Joel whispers flatly, nudging you to hover over him.  When you rise a few inches,  he lifts your dress and guides your naked ass backwards, hovering in his lap. He presses the curve of your spine and you tilt your hips.  He guides you until you feel his firm tip at your dripping entrance.  "You want this?" You nod almost imperceptibly, then he says, "Go ahead." You sink onto him with a soft gasp.  “That's right, take it," he says. He puts his hand over your mouth and pulls you down, breathing, "yes." Then he sighs "Ahh," as his girth parts your insides.  He has to use both arms and a thrust to bury himself entirely, then your body’s flush with his. His noises are quiet but visceral, softer than usual, but just as masculine.

You’re pitiful, like a rag doll in your thin dress, no panties, no bra, sitting on his cock.  Bending to his will like he’s your puppeteer.  And you might as well have an arm shoved all the way up you.  He’s inhabiting every bit of space in your guts. 

Men are loading things into the back of the van.  Joel leans you forward to spread your dress over his lap.  Then he pulls you back and lifts his hips, making his cock move deep inside you.   The main door to the van slides open and men start piling in.  Your seat is always in Joel’s lap, that’s nothing new, so hopefully no one notices you’re impaled on his massive cock.  

But that’s going to be difficult considering he’s not sitting still. He rocks his hips, pushing his length up into you at a slow pace. This has the effect of lifting your whole body each time.  Someone sitting behind you could surely see your head bobbing slowly, smoothly, but rhythmically.  His hands cup your breasts through your dress.  Tension is coiling in your core.  With his next upward thrust, Joel softly grunts into your hair.  Quieter than usual.  He isn’t worried about being seen or heard –   That’s not his style at all – It’s just that, in the van, it doesn’t take much to put on a show.  In a way, if he can subject everyone to it in near-silence, that’s even more dominant. 

Joel’s hips continue to lift into you and he slides his hand into the low-cut neckline to grope your naked breast.  The driver glances over and does a double-take, then swallows sheepishly and quickly averts his gaze, but reaches for the bandana on the dashboard and hands it to Joel.  They’re going to the stash house so Joel pauses to tie it over your eyes.  

Joel grunts softly into your hair as his cock is hugged tight by your warmth. None of the men talk to him.  They chatter at low volume amongst themselves, and he doesn’t have the best hearing.  You hear his name in a whisper from the back of the van and get self conscious that they’re watching. But of course they are. If Joel hears them, he doesn’t seem to mind.  With each tilt of his hips, his thick cock moves a short but impactful distance, nudging your g-spot.  You’re already so full, but it fills you more each time. The tension tightens, radiating to your whole body.  Begging for release.  The motion is smooth and fluid beneath you.  It’s like you’re riding an ocean wave.  Your breathing gets heavier.  

You squeeze your thighs together, tightening around his cock.  Joel grunts into your neck, then whispers “I don’t think so, sweet pea” and stops moving.  He’s really punishing you. For almost the rest of the ride, he holds you completely still on his cock.  Your heart races and your face is hot.  He’s leaning back against the seat and has you leaning back against him.  You ride in silence, listening to the noise of the road under the tires, pitch black under the blindfold. Joel’s as thick and hard as ever and the swell of his shaft twitches.  Every bump in the road provides welcome friction between his warm rod and your desperate walls.  

You know you're getting close to the stash house when you reach the gravel road, at which point you’re continuously bounced on his cock.  You can feel your arousal leaking out of you and onto him.  Your combined musk fills the van and the driver cracks his window as the terrain effectively makes you ride Joel's cock despite his best efforts to deprive you. He holds you tight, trying to keep you completely still against him. You aren’t sure if you’ll be able to stop yourself from coming.  

“You were bad today,” he whispers lowly into your neck, and you feel a wave of shame. “In the worst way," he adds coldly.  

You turn your cheek as though trying to meet his eyes through the blindfold, but his hand strongly grips your jaw and forces your face straight ahead again.  

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you bounce there, filled to the brim with his girth. 

“Gonna be a good girl from now on?”

“Yes.” 

“Come when I do, then,” his low voice murmurs into your ear, sending a rush through your body.  He better come really soon. 

He inhales deeply through his nose and puts his arm flat on your back with his strong forearm resting along your spine and his hand firmly gripping the nape of your neck.  He forces you down, and you fold forward with your head near your knees.  Then he covers your mouth tight with his other hand.  His arm presses down on your back as his hips lift up into you.  He grunts as he erupts inside you.  His thick cock powerfully pulses and sends you clenching and fluttering around him, softly moaning into his hand as you find your own waves of release. It feels like it lasts forever.  

“Maniac,” someone says under their breath as Joel lets you sit back up.  

"You did good," he whispers flatly into your hair. To your shame, your heart can't help but swell at his approval, even though the coldness in his tone stings. He's obviously preoccupied by what you did.

You can't discern most of the hushed murmurs until another voice ominously whispers from the back of the van, “He can’t watch her 24/7 forever.” Joel must not hear it or else you imagine the man wouldn’t be breathing for long.  

-

The van parks at the stash house and Joel takes off your blindfold.  He helps lift you off his lap and his length slides out, bringing with it a dripping mess of both of you.  Your insides slowly pull themselves back together as your combined juices trickle down your thigh. You step down out of the van while he zips up his pants and you dab yourself as best you can with the dress, face burning along with your neck, shoulders, and hands.  With Joel facing away from the men, you can feel them staring at you, but as soon as he steps out of the van, they look away and go about unloading. 

Joel retrieves the duffle bag from behind the seat, but he doesn't bring it into the stash house with you.  He takes out a blanket and wraps it around you, making you decent. You shouldn't feel like it's sweet, but there's a passing moment before you remind yourself the gesture is for him, not you. He doesn't want anyone else to see you. He said as much the first time you were there. Joel takes out some rope from the bag, and before he brings you into the house, he makes sure his switchblade is in his pocket. Then he firmly grabs you by the elbow and takes you inside.

"You're gonna have to be brave for me in a minute, baby."

-

we'll pick up from here next time & a couple more asks will become relevant.

Thank you so much for reading and interacting! We've been simping for this sicko for a month now and i really enjoy our banter and dialogue about him and the other toxic joels.

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @ele-meno-p @internetobssessed1234-blog LMK if I left you off

RJ: @str84pedro

[kitten4sannie]

Hi congrats on 3k :)

Soo I’ve been thinking about sub Mingi quite a bit lately and if we’re going to get spooky lol what if he’s a clingy ghost that haunts and constantly comes around when he wants your attention and body? ;) Picture this: it’s 3 am and you wake up out of your sleep to see him gingerly pulling at your sleep shorts with a cute lil pout <3 He’s whining and pleading, “Y/N, can you please fuck me? I’m so lonely </3”

hehe thank you ^-^ 💞 ALSO EXCUSE YOUUU – NEEDY ?? SUB?? GHOST?? MINGI ???? 👁️👄👁️ i’m literally on my knees for you and this concept anonnie rjwjhw i hope i can deliver something worthy of this thot provoking ask <33

⛧ seance smutfest ⛧

w.c: 2.1k

warnings: pouty subby baby boy mingi :((, big dick mingi, also he’s a ghost so he has ghost? features? lol, dom! reader, reader’s kinda mean ngl jssjs, so many pet names omg, some possessive language, light degradation, teasing, begging, praise, some pet play dynamics (everyone lets say thank you to @lemonhongjoong for making puppy ghost min a thing <3), drooling, brief mutual masturbation, grinding, cum eating, brief oral (receiving), doggy style obv, overstim, multiple creampies

Your roommates tend to keep to themselves these days — most notably when the sun goes down. They can’t bring themselves to tell one another about the things they’ve been experiencing without sounding like they’re crazy.

How could they possibly explain that they feel like they’re being watched when they’re taking a shower and laying alone in their beds? That they hear their names being whispered into their ears just as their eyelids grow heavy enough for them to drift off to sleep? How could they possibly let anyone know about the howls and wails they hear coming from somewhere in the house late at night?

How could you tell them that it had one of the most complicated, yet simplest answers? The answer being the (very needy) apparition that had appeared in your room for the third time that week. At 3 am, no less. A groan tumbled out of your dry throat as you tried to blink away the darkness and make out the figure that hovered above you.

“Y/N…wake up, so you can fuck me…” he whispered in a deep, breathy voice, the edges of his words thick with desire.

“You can’t keep doing this, Mingi…” you croaked, feeling the odd heaviness and simultaneous lightness of his body pressing into yours.

The ghost frowned, his head lowering slightly. “But I need you.”

You grimaced, your cheeks growing warm. “I need sleep.”

He whimpered, his fingers already pulling down your sleep shorts past your hips, looking down at you with an intense, unwavering gaze, his bluish plump lips forming a signature pout. You could already feel his heavy cock pressing into the side of your thigh. “Y/N, please. I’m so lonely.”

The fire inside you was lit — just like that. This was why you were never able to say no to him. The ghostly brat was so good at begging for your attention and body, you couldn’t possibly deny him. Though, he would have to work for it.

“If you want me so bad,” you began somewhat mockingly, feeling his cold hands settle on your hips for a moment and squeeze them slightly, a trail of goosebumps immediately forming where he touched you. “Then you’ll just have to get off in front of me first, ghostie.”

“D-don’t call me that,” Mingi murmured, blowing a few strands of whitish blond hair out of his eyes, biting his lip at your proposition. He would’ve blushed if he were still alive. “…Call me yours…”

“You know what, Mingi?”

“What?” he whined, his head drooping more, his bottom lip jutting out just enough to make you fall further underneath his spell, though you were determined to get the most out of this paranormal encounter.

Giggling softly at his reaction, you took his hands and slowly ran them up along your curves, up and under your hoodie until they were just underneath your breasts, feeling his fingers press slightly into your ribcage. He stared hard at you in the darkness, the whites of his eyes practically glowing as you gazed back at them with your own half-closed ones. “I’ll call you mine as soon as you cum for me. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you play with your cock?”

Mingi throbbed inside his sweatpants as he pulled at the drawstrings, letting them fall until his long, veiny cock sprung out and curved up into his lower abdomen.

You smiled at the sight of it, your eyes trailing his thick length until you settled on the flushed, pronounced tip. “That’s a good boy.”

Mingi bit back a moan, his cock twitching on its own, the head leaving a strand of pre-cum behind when it made contact with his lower abdomen.

Sighing softly, you couldn’t help but give in and stroke your ego a little. “That’s all it takes, huh, Min? A little praise and you’re ready to spill your load for me?”

“Yeah, it makes me feel really good,” he answered in an oddly shy manner, despite his hand already closing around the base of his cock and jerking upwards, another thick bead of pre-cum oozing out of the bluish tip. “Fuck, I need you so bad."

You licked your lips, letting your hand slip down into your panties to rub your wetness around. “What do you need exactly, ghost boy? Enlighten me.”

“Need to be inside you. Need to fuck your cunt. Feel it squeeze around me when I fill you up. And, fuck–” He groaned harshly, his eyes centered on your moving hand, whimpering at the sounds of your slick, his wrist beginning to hurt from how roughly he was pleasuring himself. "Nnngh, does it feel good, Y/N? Knowing I’m gonna cum just for you?”

“It feels really good, Min,” you breathed out, rubbing your clit in between two fingers, tilting your head to the side, some of your hair falling into your eyes. “But, you know what would feel even better?”

“What?” he inquired as soon as the words left your mouth, his own mouth starting to hang open to let drool drip out, his cock throbbing away.

“If you rubbed your cock on my cunt, Minnie.” You smiled at the mess he was already becoming for you, lowering your panties just enough so that he could make out the slick glistening on your folds. “Do you want that?”

An airy whine left Mingi’s lips, his hips already starting to move on their own, practically using his hand as a fleshlight. “Yes, please.”

“So obedient,” You giggled, reaching out to run your index finger up along his stiff length, watching it twitch a bit once you swiped your finger up and over his cockhead. “And so sensitive. How cute.”

Mingi seriously would’ve turned into a tomato at this point, but you didn’t have to know that. He simply pouted and rutted himself against your upper thigh, getting his pre-cum all over it, pleading for you until you eventually tossed your panties to the side and spread your thighs apart for him.

“Get to work, Min,” you purred, running your fingers through his shaggy hair.

Like a dog hearing the dinner bell, he sprung into action, resting his hands near either side of your head, his chilled body flush against your heated one, his cock already rubbing deliciously along your cunt, more pre-cum leaking out of the tip. “Feels so good, so good, so good–”

“Aww, look at you, getting all worked up for me. What a needy boy.”

“Need you so bad,” he reassured, blowing a few bangs out of his eyesight. “Wanna fill you up.”

Wiping away a bit a sweat from your forehead, you couldn’t help but to let out a few breathy moans, the tip of the ghost’s thick cockhead sliding against your clit in a way that sent electricity through the rest of your body. “Cum for me and i’ll let you inside, Min, I promise…”

Mingi suddenly pushed himself up and grabbed onto your hips, thrusting forward so quickly, the springs in the mattress began to creak underneath the both of you, your combined slick allowing him to steadily bring you to your peak. “Gonna…cum…for you, Y/N…”

“Yeah, that’s it, just like that,” you praised breathily, feeling your lower half getting lifted up from how desperately he began to fuck himself on your wet cunt, your head dropping back when your high took over you, barely able to listen to all of the whiny moans that began to leave Mingi’s drooling mouth. “Such a good boy, my good boy…”

“Your–nnnngh–good boy,” Mingi echoed weakly, his body shuddering, his fingers leaving bruises in the flesh of your hips, holding you still as he left spurt after spurt of his release on your already dripping cunt and lower abdomen.

Once Mingi lowered your body back down on the bed, you ran your fingers through the warm liquid he left behind, giggling softy at the sound of his heavy panting and the sight of his pretty glistening lips when he licked his cum off of your fingers without you having to ask, his spit dripping down them. “What a naughty boy you are.”

“Just for you,” he nodded, trying to lick up the saliva that had dripped down his chin.

“Oh, sweetheart, you want to fuck me so bad, you’re going to drool all over yourself?” Your eyes sharpened, knowing you were about to reignite his fuse. “Are you a puppy or something?”

Mingi let out a shameless moan from your words, his previously half-hard cock coming back to life and throbbing steadily. If he had visible pupils, they would be blown out by now. “Yeah, I’m a needy puppy…I need my Master’s cunt.”

“Then, clean up your mess, puppy,” you chimed, his title for you giving you so much satisfaction you almost came right then and there. You spread your thighs apart, sending an inviting smile his way. “And then you can fuck your Master dumb, okay?”

Mingi’s mouth was on your cunt before you could take another breath, his wide tongue collecting your juices and his own cum as he brought it up and down your cunt. “Mmm, fuck…”

“Good puppy,” you praised, your cunt pulsing around his tongue once he shoved it inside along with two fingers that slowly spread you apart, almost losing your composure from the way he began to vigorously tongue-fuck you. “Fuck, what do you think you’re doing, Min?”

“ ‘M just cleaning up my mess,” he moaned against your cunt, swiping at your clit with the tip of his tongue, making you throb again. “I wanted to get you nice and stretched out for my cock too. Don’t want to hurt my Master.”

Mingi’s filthily adorable words drifted through your lust-drunk mind, encouraging you to spread your hole open for the sweet spirit, gazing up at him. “I’m ready for you, puppy. Come and get it.”

-

You couldn’t remember how long you had been there for, taking Mingi’s cock from behind, your thighs trembling underneath you, the side of your face squished into the cum-soaked mattress, your sore wrists being held taut in the ghost’s tight grip, your throat growing more and more dry every time he sunk back into the tight heat of your cunt. You didn’t even have to worry about your moans being heard by your roommates. Mingi’s moans were much louder, much more whiner than yours.

Poor Mingi couldn’t help it. It just felt so good being balls-deep in such a tight, warm hole he could fuck and fill until he had no more cum left to empty out inside you. His eyes wandered down your back, fixating on the milky liquid that dripped down his length, slamming himself into you until it got pushed back inside where it belonged. “Gonna cum, gonna fuck you so full, it’ll be dripping out of you during breakfast tomorrow,” he warned in a weak, breathy voice, massaging and squeezing your hip with his free hand.

“Do it, Min, fuck me so full,” you cried out, feeling your entire body begin to shudder and throb with pleasure, catapulting over the edge along with Mingi once he began to slowly fuck his load into you until it joined the others still coating your used inner walls. “One more time, baby, fill me again…”

“ H-hold on…’m too sensitive…right now,” the ghost informed in between pants, idly licking at the drool that wanted to leak out past his lips. He let go of your wrists to wipe at his mouth, not prepared for the way your cunt suddenly clenched around his length.

“One more, Minnie, you can do it,” you encouraged through slurred words, lifting yourself up so that you could began to drive yourself back onto his cock, growing wetter just from the filthy squelching of your combined cum, Mingi’s sudden gasps, and his equally cute high pitched, airy moans. “That’s right, feels so good, huh?”

“S-so good,” Mingi choked out, running his hands up his body and holding onto himself periodically, hyper-fixated on the space where your slick bodies connected, whining each time you slammed yourself back onto him and took his cock inside as far as it would go. “Oh my goddd…you’re gonna make me cum again.”

You looked back at him, admiring the way his glistening lips were stuck in an ‘o’ shape, the way his eyebrows were screwed upwards, the look in his teary, half-closed eyes that told you not to stop. “Cum for me, baby, come on, give it to me,” you moaned out, fucking yourself on his cock until you clamped down on it, your own release spilling out of you and down your inner thighs.

“Y/N, fuck…!” Right on cue, Mingi let out a shamelessly loud wail, a few tears escaping his eyes, as you fucked him through his intense orgasm, milking his cock until he unloaded every last drop into you.

You were brought out of your cloudy headspace when Mingi’s body landed near yours on the mattress, suddenly compelled to wipe the remnants of tears away from his drool-stained face. “What a good ghost boy you are,” you whispered teasingly, yours fingers resting against his clammy cheek, rubbing it gently with your thumb.

Mingi squished his opposite cheek into the pillow, not knowing that it was flushed with a deep blue hue. His eyes crinkled at the edges, giving you a wobbly smile.

“Your ghost boy.”

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© kitten4sannie, 2023.

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: ghost!gojo satoru x f!reader

word count: 2.8k

about: the bump you’ve been hearing in the night isn’t just your imagination, it’s a friendly ghost. a handsome ghost. a ghost who you've befriended that isn't so sure he wants to share you.

contents: nsfw - mdni. you are enjoying oral sex (f!receiving) from a ghost, voyeurism (he's a creep but reader is into it ♡), vaginal fingering, alcohol consumption, mentions of masturbation, possessiveness leaning on yandere behavior, reader is referred to with feminine terms (pretty girl) and is stated to be wearing a dress.

notes: welcome to thot-o-ween 2023! we are kicking things off with my ghostly boyfriend and im gonna be honest with u guys here, i didn't do extensive research about the ins and outs of ghost sex but he can materialize and harden the parts of him he wants to and let's leave it at that, okay? thank you to @rossithepixie for beta reading this bad boy and i hope you enjoy! happy halloween!

Another unlucky night, you lament upon arriving back to your apartment. Your keys jingle in the door as you turn the lock with your uncomfortable heels dangling from your hand, pushing the door inward and slumping with each step forward. 

Third dates usually end better than this but it seems your last several third dates have ended with nothing satisfying, polite kisses and wishes for a good evening. It’s hard not to internalize the rejection given this is the fourth person it has happened with and you drop your heels with a thud on the hardwood below, padding across the floor and working off your jewelry, contorting your wrist to unclasp your bracelet.

“Back already?”

A sigh and a shake of your head mark that you already know who the voice belongs to despite being unable to witness its owner. Tossing your bracelet down on the coffee table, you slump against the couch with an unimpressed grunt and jump slightly when you look up to see a pair of blue eyes with white hair falling in them staring back at you.

You don’t know why you expected anything less than Satoru being ready to gloat that you’ve returned home empty handed but you hoped for at least a little bit of time to lick your wounds.

“Well hello to you, too,” you snip and he chuckles. The dim overhead light shines through him reminding you that he isn’t quite human, something it’s all too easy to forget given his charming grin and affable nature, and he hops over the top of the couch in a flash and plops down next to you. 

You still aren’t sure how you ended up with a ghost as a freeloading roommate nor how you’re able to not only see but feel and communicate with him but at least he makes good company after your failed attempts at finding love. He’s always there with a silly joke or a goofy smile to make things hurt a little less.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy it has been to find comfort in this specter, a figment of a man left on Earth for reasons you’ll never know, but hey - a friend’s a friend when you’re lonely.

“Not sure what happened this time,” you explain while standing up. He watches your every move, eyes dancing across your chest and trailing down your waist and hips as your dress settles back across them. Taking one look at you, hunger rises within him but he swallows it as you walk to the kitchen and he hears the telltale noise of a corkscrew at work.

He can be as patient as he needs for as long as he needs given his games have worked up until this point. You pour a glass of wine, another sitting next to your full glass, and you furrow your brow.

“Satoru?”

He looks over the couch, eyes narrowing as he sees your relaxed posture and the way you lean against the counter next to you. It has to be the dress, he thinks, that hugs every delicious curve and has made the already thin tether he keeps on his self control further loosen.

“Yeah?”

You smile when he responds, pulling your glass away from your lips. His eyes fall on the lipstick stain left behind and he has to curl his fist in his lap and keep his face neutral to keep his frustration from showing.

“Ghosts don’t eat or drink, right?”

He shrugs, arm dangling over the side of the couch as he watches you slip the glass back into the cupboard above your head. You’re assuming that he isn’t interested in the wine despite how his eyes follow your every move. It isn’t unusual that you feel him watching you, having to draw boundaries on where he is and is not allowed to be several times given how you’ve seen his face after wiping the mirror off post shower, but this feels different. Weighted. Maybe he’s worried about your ego after your failed conquests.

“Not usually, no, but we can make exceptions.”

Raising your eyebrows, you hum at the way he accentuates the last word. Another sip and warmth fills you, wine relaxing your frazzled nerves. You approach the couch again and slip next to him, pulling your knees to your chest with an amused smile.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, looking up at you through his lashes. Sliding your wine onto the table beside you, you consider for a moment what to say next not knowing where your words could possibly lead. He’s harmless, friendly, and a friend.

A little flirtation just to make sure you’re still capable of it couldn’t possibly hurt anything, could it?

“What kind of exceptions do you make when it comes to eating, Satoru?”

You wonder what he was like when he was alive - was he just like this? All jokes and fun and bluster or was he serious, tied down by responsibilities and pain? Was he this handsome even when the light didn’t shine through him, illuminating him in a way that makes you wonder if he isn’t an angel rather than a thing that goes bump in the night?

“Hmm…well. Children, small animals…” he pretends to be thinking, fingers stroking his chin and you laugh raucously at his display. He shakes his head and puts his other hand on your calf, cold fingers sending shivers crawling through the limb. You make a show of shivering but don’t shove him off, instead moving closer.

“Anything else?”

He hums at your question, hand sliding from your calf to your exposed knee. Your dress rides further and further up your thighs and he can almost see the lacy little panties he watched you slip over your legs before leaving. He spent all evening thinking of the way the trimmed hair covering your mound poked through the holes in the lace, pacing the apartment hoping, hoping, hoping that this time would be the time where you took the rejection personally enough to seek him out for comfort.

It seems his plan is working flawlessly and he’s smug, raising his chin and looking down his nose at you just enough that it makes you shutter. You aren’t sure if it’s the wine or maybe that you’re reading too much into the situation, but you watch raptly as his mouth moves.

“Sometimes I eat really pretty girls if the appetite strikes.”

Raising your brows, you lean forward and look up at him. He knows all too well what that look means, unfortunately having to witness you flash it at the few people you’ve managed to bring home over the last ten months of living here, but he can forget about them now that it is pointed at him.

“Oh is that so?”

He nods, hand crawling further up your leg. You wish you could describe the sensation, a cold static, the trace of his touch across your skin, but words fail you as his eyes blaze. The tension is thick and it’s almost puzzling how you ended up here, scooting closer and closer with each second that passes. His hand dances at the hem of your dress, fingers slipping beneath and grazing the soft skin beneath it and he moans.

“How long have you wanted to do that for, I wonder?”

You giggle, ass scooting across the couch to drape your legs over his thighs and hips. The two of you sit across from one another, legs barely spread, and you take a step to spread yours further.

“I think the better question is how long have you wanted me to do it for?”

Raising your brows as his touch creeps further upward, you wonder if you haven’t met your match in the form of the eerily tall specter that lingers over the back of your couch. He makes himself scarce unless he wants to be seen, pounding footsteps and shifting on the shelves hanging on your wall the only trace of him when others are around. 

You stop yourself on that thought and he sees awareness dance across your face, recalling the moments where your last several dates were in the apartment and you had to insist the rustling was the pet cat you do not have fiddling with things in your room or down the hallway.

“Have you been…” the accusation slips past your lips and you can’t stop it, head tipping as he reaches out and cups your face with his free hand, one hand still sliding across the bottom of your panties. His cool fingers are a rush across your heated skin, hotter now than it was a few moments prior, and he nods.

“Yeah, I have been.” He expects you to react more strongly than you are but your mouth remains agape and wordless. “You keep bringing these idiots home and it’s my job to make sure they know you already have everything you need right here.”

He shifts position onto his stomach, his long legs dangling over the arm of the couch as his lips, cool and soft, follow the same pattern his fingers were previously taking. He laces your calf with kisses, licking the curve of your knee and nibbling as he reaches the soft of your inner thigh and you feel your hips buck instinctively. 

You should kick him off of you, disgusted by his antics, but you feel your slick pussy lips rub against one another as you shift where you sit. Those electric eyes are locked on you and he dips his fingers beneath the lace that spurred his frenzy, groaning as he comes into contact with your searing hot warmth and the wetness seeping from your cunt.

“Seems like you aren’t disappointed to hear that,” he taunts, nibbling your soft skin again while working one long digit across your slit. You gasp when the back of his finger brushes against your swollen clit and he chuckles. “You wanna hear what else I’ve been doing since we’re bein’ honest?”

Satoru’s finger traces the same pattern through your slit, finger gliding easily along the sensitive skin and you nod, lip between your teeth. You want to witness exactly what he’s doing to you because the feeling is indescribable - more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. 

“I’ve been watching you,” he withdraws his finger from your panties and you whimper, brow furrowing. Eyes fixed on him, you watch as he pulls the finger into his mouth and hums at the taste. The wet digit is removed from his mouth with a pop and he slides it back into your panties, dipping into your cunt only to make your back arch. 

“Watching you do that,” he nods at your last movement. “With that noisy vibrator. With the showerhead.” He continues, mouth moving closer to your panty covered pussy with each word. “With people who don’t deserve it.”

Another chill runs through you at the insinuation that he has been watching you…everywhere. In the shower, in your bedroom, in the living room with a blanket pulled over your lap for some sense of decorum. Your walls clench around his finger and he finally lowers his face to your pussy, licking a broad stripe over the front of your underwear. 

Tipping your head back, you moan his name and it’s the sweetest sound he has ever heard in life or after it. He licks another strip, tip of his tongue tracing your slit through the lace, and you reach behind you to grasp onto a throw pillow.

“I’ve been waiting for when you’d pick up on it but it seems my pretty girl wanted to believe I’m nothing but a friendly houseguest,” he taunts from between your legs but you are at his mercy enough that you don’t mind the challenge. 

You like the way his eyes shine as they look down at your core, as if he’s found a prize that he has searched many lifetimes for. He has and he holds himself back from making further moves, taking the time to keep you wound up.

“You’re mine now no matter who you bring in here, you know that right?”

You nod, and he tuts from below. You aren’t getting off that easily.

“Say it,” he prompts. “Say you’re mine.”

Untucking your lip from between your teeth, you reach out and try to grab his face but find it’s futile, phasing through him as it drops back down to the couch below. You try again, raising your hand to be met with the same results, and he waits.

“Say it and I’ll let you touch me too.”

You aren’t certain of how that works but he would know more about the delicate relations between a ghost and a human so you acquiesce, nodding while you look at him.

“I’m yours,” you whisper and he wastes no time going back to work, dipping his head back down to your covered cunt and pulling your panties away. He inhales, eyes fluttering shut at the scent of your arousal, and you reach to touch him to find you can merely graze him, fingers dancing along his sharp jawline. It’s enough for now, distracted by how his tongue now dances between your folds.

“Fuck that’s so good,” you whimper and he wraps his lips around your aching clit, your back arching to put all of you in his face. He loves it, surrounded by your thighs and your scent and your beauty, and he hums his pleasure around the bud.

Releasing your clit, he begins to once again lap at you like a man starved, tongue dragging from your bud to your entrance and down lower, the sensation still one you are struggling to name. You’ve been on the receiving end of good oral sex more than once but this physically feels like something you’ve never experienced, cold and hot and spiritual. It’s difficult to describe so you don’t bother, keeping moans spilling from your mouth instead.

Continuing to lave his tongue across the mess he’s making of your pussy, he swallows thickly and looks up at your pleasured face. The sight makes him smile, more than happy he has finally managed to get his way, and he adds another finger to the one he has kept massaging your insides. His tongue retracts but you don’t mind, long fingers filling you more than you anticipated and drawing gasps from you.

“Just remember,” his blue eyes fall to where his fingers curl against your pelvis, squelching with your wetness and his saliva. “I can follow you wherever you go.”

You gasp when his fingers curl against the spongy spot inside of you that makes your head swim, walls once again gripping him so tightly he can hardly move so he settles in place.

“You’ll never get away from me now.”

Nodding, you smirk and it turns into a gasp when he runs his thumb over your clit, hips canting to match the rhythm his fingers were working at before they stopped.

“You assume I want to,” you shoot back breathlessly through swollen lips. You’ve been gnawing that lower lip a little too hard and it’s plump, slick with spit and he admires the shine while you speak. “Maybe you'll never get away from me.”

Raising his brows, Satoru wonders if this wasn’t your endgame all along. Recalling all the times you spread your legs and stroked your pussy on the couch, knowing he could see it; memorizing all of the people who have darkened your doorstep, only to get you all warmed up and then be sent away - you making the choice instead to moan into the cool dark of your room while making yourself cum again and again.

“Looks like we’re on the same page then,” he confirms and you smile. His mouth goes back to work, tongue slurping and drinking every bit of you that he can, and you feel yourself edging closer and closer to cumming for him, for real, this time. 

His fingers work inside of you and he closes his mouth over your sensitive clit, your mouth opening in a wordless shout with your release. You weren’t expecting it to come just yet but you won’t complain, head drooping backwards and eyes shut tightly. The on top of the world feeling is coaxed out of you for as long as it can be, his mouth mercifully releasing you when you start breathing heavily. 

His face rests against your thigh, glistening chin backlit and shining, and you reach out to touch him again and gasp when your touch lands, fingers wrapping around his jaw. Again, you won’t question it knowing that the best orgasm of your life just came at the hands of this man…or spirit…Whatever he is, you aren’t terribly concerned about it.

“I feel like I need to take you out to dinner now,” you tease breathlessly and he laughs, cheek still pressed to your thigh. Placing a kiss, he winks in your direction and you feel that familiar heat rise in you once again.

“We have all the time in the world for that, now don’t we?”