AXEL
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AXEL

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Darry nsfw headcannons please please please
*proceeds to beg on hands and knees*/j
NSFW Darry Curtis HCs
Darrel Curtis x Reader
Warnings: NSFW content under the cut. Read at your own risk.
Author’s Note: Yes, yes!! Keep begging- Darry is super into that! 😼I tried to make majority of them gender neutral, but I guess you could say a few of them aren’t. I hope you all enjoy!! 🫶🏼
─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Taking you home and spanking you
Brat tamer!Dallas x Brat!reader
Synopsis: Dallas takes a bit longer than you’ve wanted to while your trying to head to a party and sets off a inflatable night of complains and Dallas had enough decided to teach you a lesson
WARNINGS: brat!reader, slapping, spanking, manhandling, brat taming, cussing, toxic Dallas (he loves you)
A/N: got this as a request but forgot the user, whoops
"Ugh, Dallas fucking hurry up!" you bitch at him. You’ve been bitching at him for the past 20 minutes and he's already over it. You want to go out to a party, and he's been in the bathroom taking forever, and you’re getting impatient. Foot tapping, pacing around, huffing and puffing.
"Would you shut up! I'm washing my hands."
You roll your eyes and wait by the door, arms crossed, purse dangling from your shoulder. Time is not stopping any further. Finally, you hear his heavy boots clambering down the hallway, "God about time, taking forever in there like we got all day."
He pauses slightly as he gets to you; eyes narrowing, and suddenly yanks the door open. "God you better shut that attitude off." He presses his hand on the lower half of your back and gives you a push, "Go."
On the ride there, driving in one of Dallas's friends car you pout and bitch the whole time, complaining how lately he's not been there to see you, or every time you try and talk to him he seems in a bad mood, or bringing up the conversation that got you guys in an argument the other day, and so on. Honestly, you just kept going at it until you guys got there. And Dallas is already over it. Needing a beer and a cigarette immediately.
He puts the car in park as he skids to the side of the road. He slams the car door as he gets out and doesn't get yours, "Wow thanks," you say as you do the same exaggerated slam and trail behind him, walking into the party with him paces ahead of you.
Already this night isn't going good, "Right just fucking walk away from me!" you yell and roll your eyes, watching him walk off, probably going to find some of his stupid hood friends or immediately going to get wasted. Quickly you go to find friends and start to mingle, forgetting about him. But he hears what you said just a minute earlier and turns around, coming back to find you, but you're already gone. Lost in the circles of people.
He huffs and rolls his eyes in annoyance, "I need a beer."
Some time later you find him, smoking and drinking with some other guys around a counter, "What, you didn't get me a drink?"
"There drinks right over there."
"Well, why didn't you get me one already?"
"'Cause I didn’t know you wanted one!" His anger flashes, bursting in boils popping hot against his skin. Every little thing out of your mouth is articulated and crafted to push every single one of his buttons. Blessed by God, like you have the perfect knack for it, which you do.
Your voice is loud and projecting, attentively grabbing the attention of the buddies next to him, “Well maybe you would have if you didn't storm away like a little child," Dallas catches on, you’re just wanting to insult him and insinuate a fight. Little jabs and jeers, calling him names, calling him a fucking child for Christ's sake.
He scoffs, "I came back for you, but you were already gone."
"And you just couldn't find me? Bet some other chick caught your attention that’s why-" he quickly grabs your wrist, gripping it tight like a snake holding a mouse in its jaws. His body moves closer and looms over you as he leans down, whispering harshly in your ear, "What the fuck is your problem?" You can feel the quick flicks of hot breath against your skin, whipping like a whip, hot and fast. His tone is low and strained, nothing short of his line in the sand being entirely kicked and overstepped.
His grip only tightened, fingers pressing deep into your bones, "Embarrassing me in front of everyone, acting like this and your wanting to call me the child?”
And it's true. Some of the guys around Dallas are looking over, sharing glances, and smirks as he stares daggers into you.
"You-"
"Shut your trap. We're leaving."
Your eyes widen, your body pulling back, instinctively saying no. You want to stay, you guys just got here. No way are you leaving.
"No I'm not fuc-"
He pulls away from the counter and tightens his grip as he starts heading to the doorway, through the crowd of people, dragging you away. You don’t even get a word in as he moves so fast through the circles of people.
Outside in the crisp air, night black, and the smell of smoke lingering from the yard of burnt out cigarettes you yell, "Dallas what the hell?!"
"Get in the car!" He shouts and points to the car.
"No!" You push his chest, making him stumble back only a step.
He let out a frustrated noise, and took you by your arm, shoving you into the front seat and slamming the door.
You yell at him as he walks to the other side of the car, hearing your muffled yells until your voice comes blaring at him as he opens the door and gets in.
He ignores you, putting the keys in the ignition, starting up the car with a deep scowl, eyes blazing, jaw tense, lips pressed tight.
"Put your seat belt on.”
You huff, not wanting to just because he said so, "No, I want to go back! I've been wanting to go to this party all night-"
"Yeah?! Well too fucking bad since you wanted to act like a brat! Put your seat belt on!"
He puts the car in drive and skids across the street, white-knuckling it down the road. You put your seat belt on because you're afraid you'll crash, and die. You’re gripping onto the seat with your life, looking straight ahead.
He's mad, super mad, you can see it in your peripheral view. You won't even look at him, but you can tell. When he merely glances at you his anger pops and sizzles his skin like lava each time he does.
He weaves through cars, barely stopping at lights and stop signs when no one’s there. He parks the car, slamming on the brakes as you're back in front of your house. He gets out and goes to your side, opening the door, and slamming the door behind you when you get out, "There opened the door for ya."
He storms up to your place, waiting as you unlock and open the door. When you both get in he swoops you up, hoisting you up over his shoulder, hand on your back so you don't slip, ignoring you as you let out a squeal.
He throws open your bedroom door, puts you down instantly, shushes your yelling and complaints by putting his hand over your mouth.
"Strip down."
You stare at him big and wide, maybe you misheard him. Maybe he’s joking.
He slaps your ass roughly, "Do it now- do I look like I'm fucking joking,”
And that's when it hits you. He's not joking. He's mad. He's really mad. You had realized that in the car, but only acknowledged his anger, not putting two and two together that his anger has consequences. You shudder slightly. Your anger is still hanging on with nails and teeth, unable to fully let go. You huff through your nose, a glint of defiance prevalent in your eyes. You strip down to bra and panties, feeling bare and exposed.
He sits down on the bed, legs spread wide, jacket off, grabbing you by the arm and bending you over his lap, ass up, legs dangling uselessly behind you.
"Ngh-" you gasp as he manhandles you like a doll, maneuvering you how he wants, not asking, not caring.
"Dallas-"
"Shut up," it's like a coil just snaps, "I'm so sick of your fuckin' attitude tonight. Actin’ like a little shit all day, and all day and night I've been with you. Took you to that dumb party. But still you’re not fucking grateful, still wanna act like a brat and give me shit. Imma slap that attitude right out of you."
You don't think he actually means exactly what he says till the first slap crackles down against your ass cheek, "Ow!" you gasp.
"What that hurt?"
"Y-yeah!" you say huffing and puffing your chest like an angry kitten.
"Good, hope it fucking does," he cracks another slap against your ass on the other cheek, imprinting his handprint like a permanent stencil.
He lands another one, then another. Over and over again, switching between each cheek to give an equal amount of spanks.
"A-hah fuck-" you twitch, the pain stinging through you, electrifying your whole body with each slap. You can feel the callousness on his hand, and the tough grit of them smacking down on your flesh.
"Da- oh!" You squeal, wiggling and squirming against his lap, trying to get away. He firmly grabs your hands, and twists them behind your back, pressing his arm against your back to lock you in place. You realize at this moment how much you're in for. How much you've pissed Dallas off. How much of a brat you've been. Regret floods through you, every eye roll, every snarky remark feels ingrained in your mind, wishing and begging you could take it all back now.
"Such a fucking brat- gotta beat your ass till the flesh is raw, so you can actually get something in your thick skull," Crack. "Embarrassing me in front of everyone, storming into that party, shouting at me from the very moment. Giving me shit on the car ride there. Accusing me of looking at another chick while I'm with people!" Slap. "Making me look stupid in front of all of em' like I don't got a'hold on my broad. Like she’s the one tagging on me with a leash. When really she just wanna bitch and complain about everything I do."
You whimper and whine, carving and scraping your hands against his that are holding your wrists, "Fuck!” and your smart mouth just can’t help but say something snarky, “Sounds like you're the one com-"
He reels back his hand and spanks hard. Making your body jolt and your lungs cry out. Tears are welling up in your eyes fast and hot. You kick your legs up as he gives little slaps across your ass to prolong the sharp sting, and keep you in that dazed mind; buzzing with persistent burn.
"Ow-! Okay, okay Dallas I'm sorry..." you look up at him, panting with sad little puppy dog eyes, tilting your head, and pouting to really sell it. Your legs are shaking from the hard slap you just received, and maybe cause your panties are fucking soaked and you can't believe how horny you are from him spanking you.
"So? You've been actin' like a little bitch all day and now you wanna apologize!"
You wiggle in his lap, batting your eyelashes, marginally raising your body as much as he'll let you, "Dal I'm really sorry okay?..." You make your voice all sultry and soft, trying to ease his anger and make him feel some sort of sympathy from your sudden sweetness.
He licks his lip, pretending to think for a moment, "No, lay back down."
You whine and cry into his thigh as he adjusts you to lie on his lap again. Back arching and ass raising high in the air. You can feel his hand smoothing over your ass again, tucking your legs in a little, pressing down on your back, "Dal-Dal please, please I won't ever do it again!-" you whine desperately, voice muffled into the denim of his jeans. Already tensing for the arrival of his hand cracking down on your ass again.
You get cut off by a fresh spank, stinging harder than all the previous. Blossoming red with a bright cherry tint. He lets the sting fizzle, letting it fully sink into your body, sending tremors all through your nervous system. You bow your head, soft whimpers and fast breaths falling from your lips.
He spanks the other cheek, just as hard. Tears prickling at your lash line, looking up for a prayer of hope, but there's none. Just enduring the pain as your ass flushes dark red and blooms with bruises.
The next spank crackles like a gunshot. The breath instantly knocked out of you, your body flashing red warning signals, "D—al! Please! I'll be so good- w-won't do it again, ever! I'm so s-" hiccup. Another slap. "—orry, please."
You whine, tears falling down your cheeks as you heave over, "sor-" you hick.
Slap
"-rry."
Slap
"I'm sor-"
Slap
"W-won't-...ngh-"
Slap
The next words you let out are just sobs, crying over his lap, body limp and shaking from pain. His hands rub over your ass, looking down and assessing the damage. It's painfully red, bruises on your hips from where he had to grip you tight so you wouldn't move, and other bruises on your ass from how hard he slapped. They'd be there a while. You want to push his hands away, the sheer graze of his hands is too overstimulating and prickling like needles.
He grabs you by your hair and hoists you up, moving you to stand between his legs. He gets sight of your pitiful face. All puffy and tear-stained. Big eyes wide and leaking. He doesn't feel an ounce of sympathy for you. You caused him a lot of trouble today, more than he'd ever put up with anyone.
His hand gripping your hair moves to your face, squishing your cheeks together, "You gonna cause me that much trouble again?"
You shake your head, "N-no," your voice comes out shaky and deplorable.
"Fuckin hell always gotta deal with your ass whining and bitching all the time, why do I even deal with you?" He pats your cheek lightly, making your lip jut out.
"I'm sorry..."
"Are you?"
You nod, entire body trembling with you, legs practically jelly as he has you stand. Hands holding you firmly in place. He roughly pats your cheek, "Wipe your tears."
You begrudgingly do, taking shallow shaky breaths as his hands drift inward, pulling at your panties.
"You like that shit?"
You freeze, looking down seeing his finger hooked into the side of your underwear. The lump in your throat bops up and down, and slowly you nod your head.
That arrogant, knowing smirk glides onto his face, like he knows everything in the world and he’s just one the lock to a secret chest, "Knew you would, could see you soakin' your panties each time I spanked ya."
Fuck. You redden, and embarrassment flushes into your face. He scoots back on the bed, kicking off his boots, and starts unbuckling his leather belt, zipping down his jeans, "C'mere brat, I’ll give that poor ass a break and focus on that wet pussy."
Sylvia tries to bag that short brown boy like she doesn’t have a tall albino man at home 🙄

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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