#shudder lolol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

awesumsaus · 5 months

Text

pretty when I cry

wc: 6k

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: what was meant to be a slow relaxing morning after a night out with joel turns into something much more.

a/n: so I’ve been trying to work out the rest of my tlou series but couldn’t get this idea out of my head. it’s entirely self-indulgent, absolute filth, literally inspired by porn (but with feelings). pls skip if you’re not comfortable with anything outlined in the warnings/tags, otherwise hope y’all enjoy :] (and if anyone has any interest in a part two lmk bc I may or may not have some ideas lolol)

warnings/tags: explicit 18+ (minors dni), no outbreak au, softdom!joel, smut with a hint of plot, established relationship, age gap, reader is described as small/little but also curvy, hints of possessive!joel, daddy kink, almost dd/lg dynamics, subspace, oral (f receiving), slight somnophilia (very consensual), size kink, dirty talk, so many petnames (baby, honey, pretty girl, little girl), painful sex but Joel is a consent king, aftercare, fingering, *cough* butt stuff *cough*, unprotected pinv, squirting, barely proofread sorry

It wasn’t uncommon, for you to wake up like this, Joel’s head of salt and pepper curls dipped below the covers, his mouth eagerly pulling an orgasm from your pliant body. So it comes as no surprise when you’re roused awake by the sound of your own whines and whimpers, slipping through your lips like soft little pleas. Your tired eyes shift to the top of his head, the sheets bunched at his wide shoulders, leaving you bare and exposed to the cool morning breeze blowing through the open bedroom window.

He works in slow languid movements, yet he has you gushing around his tongue nonetheless, his mouth warm and wet against your dripping sex, still soft and swollen from the previous night’s activities. You’d fallen asleep, damp and sticky, only after he’d pounded you into his mattress until the early hours of the morning.

Upon waking, the feeling of his cum still dripping out of you, legs wrapped around one of his dense thighs, it drove him positively insane. It didn’t matter how peacefully asleep you were, how steadily you drew breaths between your plush lips, he had to have you the moment his eyes set on you.

He senses you’re awake when your fingers delicately twist through the curls at the crown of his head. He hums contentedly against you, the vibrations making your eyes fall closed once more as wanting sounds slip past your lips. You’d never been one for religion, but seeing Joel for the past several months has you questioning everything. The way his mouth moves against your pulsing core leaves you with no choice but to believe in some higher power, some celestial being that deemed you lucky enough to allow a man like Joel into your life.

He pulls away from your messy cunt and you whine at the loss. Your glossed over eyes meeting his with pupils blown wide. “Mornin’ pretty girl,” he says, his voice gruff and his lips shining with your slick. The sight sends another wave of warmth straight to your core.

“Hi,” you say, tone gentle and weary with sleep. A timid smile spreads across your lips as you run a hand through his scruff. No matter how many times you wake up next to him, how many times he fucks you senseless, you always manage to grow shy under his salacious stare.

He plants a fleeting kiss to your clit and you shudder, you can feel him smirk even as your gaze shifts to the ceiling above you. Your hand unknowingly grips his hair tighter and urges him towards where you need him most, not even noticing your own action until you hear Joel let out an amused chuckle.

“So needy for me, huh baby?” He runs a hand from your thigh over the curve of your hip, his touch featherlight over the certain spot by your hipbone that he knows drives you wild. His fingers end splayed across your lower belly, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin.

“Always need you, daddy,” you say, only slightly above a whisper, a small buck of your hips to get your point across. The petname has his already half hard cock twitching against the sheets, his other hand instinctively squeezes the flesh of your hip.

With no warning, his lips are on you again, his pace now fast and increasingly sloppy. He eats at you like a man starved, his curved nose rubbing against your clit with each of his movements. The intensity of it all makes your head spin and your cunt clench around nothing. A ghosting pain lingers in your lower half, another reminder of the evening prior.

The two of you had gone out, like you often did on Friday nights, deciding on a new spot downtown. Joel was hesitant at first, having heard it was more popular with the younger crowd, more catered to people your age. But he’d learned early in your relationship that saying no to you was nearly impossible, with your big doe eyes and sweet pleading smiles, he rarely had it in him to deny anything your little heart desired.

But God, the little black dress you wore nearly had him throwing you over his shoulder and locking you away in his bedroom for only his eyes to ever behold. Joel would never admit to being the possessive type. He knew what other men saw in you, wide eyed and sweet, kind beyond reason, with a gorgeous smile and beautiful curves. He saw the way they’d look at you, saw the way their eyes followed your perfect form, like predators stalking their prey.

He would never admit to being the possessive type, but his incessant grip around your waist in every public space and the death glares he’d send any man that looked your way proved otherwise. And despite your attempts to dissuade his arrogance, there was a part of you that craved to be claimed, to be marked as his.

The week had been long and draining. Your overbearing boss forced you to work overtime into the late hours of the evening nearly every night, and with Joel’s days often starting as early as 5am, he was usually sound asleep by the time you’d managed to feed yourself and drag your exhausted corpse to bed.

To no fault of his own, Joel hadn’t paid much attention to you this week, leaving you feeling neglected and irritated despite his generally relentless attentiveness towards you. And so you decided to toy with him, always testing his limits and seeing how far you can go before he snaps. You wouldn’t admit it, but you kinda liked him a little angry.

And boy was it easy to get a rise out of him, especially dressed the way you were, your ass only just covered and your tits spilling over the tight corset-like top of your dress. You had his blood boiling before the two of you even left his house. When you finally walked through the bar entrance, Joel was like a guard dog, his arm wrapped tightly around your lower waist, a permanent scowl imprinted on his face towards the many male bar goers that ogled you. He had you tucked so close to his body you were nearly tripping over his feet with each of your steps.

After your first drink you were feeling antsy, and a bit too bold for you own good, and so you flirted with them, boys you had not a single shred of interest in, laughed at their jokes and accepted their offers to buy you drinks, all the while glancing back at Joel, biting your lip, trying not to giggle at his grimace and the way redness began spreading up his neck. You’d retreat back to your table, to Joel, prizes in hand, and feign innocence when he’d question what you were up to.

“What do y’ think you’re doin’,” he questioned after you had slipped away to the bar a second time under the guise of needing to use the restroom. You padded up to him, slotting yourself between his thighs, twirling the straw in your drink between your fingers. Even sitting on the barstool he towered over you.

“Nothin’, daddy.” You looked up at him through your lashes, knowing fully well what your words did to him. You brought the hand that wasn’t holding your drink to his upper thigh, you could feel the muscle tense as you slid your way up, up, up.

“Watch it, little girl.“ He grabbed your wrist, hard. You instinctively tried to pull away, but his grip was firm. He jerked you towards him, your chests nearly touching before bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly, a stark contrast to the death grip he still had on your wrist.

His voice was low, a sign of warning. “F’ you want somethin’ from me, all you gotta do is ask, darlin’.”

You huffed and pouted slightly when he released you, ignoring the fact that your actions resembled those of a petulant child. Despite knowing that he would give you anything you asked of him, having proved it to you countless times over the course of your relationship, the neglected feeling in your chest grew. You didn’t want to ask, sick of making decisions and telling others what to do after the week you’d had. You wanted him to take.

It was after your third disappearance, this time to actually use the restroom, that Joel snapped. Passing by the bar, one of the young men that bought you a drink attempted to stop you in your tracks. You didn’t pay him much attention, just smiled and nodded at his words, quietly trying to slip by. But then his hands were on you, grabbing your waist in a way that made your stomach turn. You hadn’t even had time to register a response, to push him away and run back to Joel, before his hands were leaving your body and being replaced by much larger ones, rough and calloused. Joel’s hands.

“We’re leaving, now,” he grunted, pulling you by the back of your arm towards the exit. It was only after he’d practically thrown you into the passenger’s seat of his truck that you knew you were in for it.

You’d barely made it to the front door before he was ripping the fabric of your little black dress from your body, letting the torn pieces fall to the floor. Immediately you’d attempted to scold him, it was one of your favorites, but couldn’t get a word in before he was throwing your bare body over his shoulder and carrying you to his bedroom, promising he’d buy you as many dresses as you wanted if you’d shut up and let him have his way with you, let him fuck you stupid, until the only thoughts going through your head were Joel, Joel, Joel.

He spent the following hours relentlessly pulling orgasm after orgasm from your pliable body, impaling you on his thick cock until hot tears streamed down your cheeks.

“I know, baby,” he said from his place behind you, your limp whimpering form draped across the edge of the bed. “Just needed to be reminded who you belong to, huh?” His voice was mocking, but with a certain sincerity that made your cunt clench even harder around him.

“Yours, daddy,” was all you could manage before you came around his cock for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

Needless to say you were feeling extra sensitive this morning, Joel was hyper aware of this fact, yet the feeling of his tongue repeatedly diving into your abused hole had you begging for more. “Need you inside,” you say despite the hurt. Joel holds back a groan at your pleas, needy little thing. He pulls away just slightly to meet your gaze, his breath still hot against your core.

“Not gonna put my cock in you, honey.” The finality in his voice makes your heart drop and tears prick in the corners of your eyes. You were always like this in the mornings, he had come to notice, sensitive, soft, often emotionally even more so than physically. Joel had always been an assured man, never impulsive or reckless in his actions, always thoughtful and never selfish. But with you he’d learned patience. He’d learned to hold your emotions in the palm of his hand with a certain gentleness he never knew himself capable of. He’d learned you often needed more time than most to become placid, to settle, and so it became almost a sense of his, knowing when to take and when to give, even when you weren’t sure yourself.

“Please-“ you whine, tears in your voice. His big brown eyes soften when they meet yours, his resolve slipping only momentarily while he moves to kiss the inside of each of your thighs.

“Not gonna convince me, baby.” he tuts. “Can’t take me yet.” He moves higher, nuzzles into the soft skin above your clit. You let out a small gasp when he starts sucking harshly, surely leaving a bruise, a mark that only he will ever see.

“I can. I promise.” You wriggle in his hold, feel your wetness drip onto the sheets. He nips the spot and pulls away.

“Quit.” He pins your hips harder, his eyes meeting yours once more. “Maybe if you hadn’t been such a goddamn tease last night I wouldn’t’ve had to wreck this perfect little pussy.” He runs a finger through your folds as he says it and you tense slightly. He raises an eyebrow at you, an I told you so look, you huff in frustration, yet you relax in his hold.

“You ready to be good f’ me, baby?” His voice seeps through your ears like honey, your mind beginning to wander to that all too familiar headspace you often turned to in these moments. You nod your head, eyes hooded. Joel senses the shift. “You’re gonna take whatever daddy gives you yeah?”

“Yes,” you gasp as you feel just the tip of his index finger probe your dripping hole, Joel gauging your response.

“N’ then what d’ you say?” He twists his finger inside you and pushes in just to his first knuckle, the stretch already intense given your increased sensitivity.

“Thank you, daddy,” you sigh, not a single shred of fight left in you. A devilish smirk spreads across his face.

“Good girl.”

His hands are on the backs of both your thighs, hiking your legs up so that they’re pressed firmly against your chest, your glistening folds on full display. You shiver as the cool morning air hits where you’re most vulnerable. He then pushes your knees apart, situating himself so that his mouth is only inches from your core while still holding you in place, your legs spread obscenely wide to accommodate the breadth of his shoulders.

He spits directly on your clit and watches as it drips down your cunt, combining with the mess of wet already there. It’s entirely unnecessary, but it’s how Joel likes you, filthy with his cum and spit and your own slick. You tremble as he smooths his hand over your mound, his undivided attention on the mess he’s creating. When he’s satisfied, the pad of his thumb finds your clit, rubbing small circles into the bundle of nerves, making your hips buck once more.

He pauses his movements, his eyes dark and entirely void of any sense of leniency. “Not gonna tell you again.” A tear pools in your lower lashes at the loss of his touch, your breathing goes shaky.

“So pretty when you cry f’ me, honey,” his tone mocking. “Almost as pretty as when you come for me.”

His mouth is back on you, even more ravening and unrelenting than before. You have to bite down on your pillow to prevent yourself from screaming when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his warm mouth. Every cell in your body is screaming for his touch, needing more, more, more. You want to be enveloped by him by not just his mouth, but every part of him. You have the sudden desire to crawl under his skin, make a home for yourself there, where all you can ever feel is him, him, him.

The peaceful sound of birds chirping outside the window is drowned out by your cries and the pornographic squelches of your wet sex. Your vision blurs as his tongue plunges in and out of you.

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” he pulls away for only a second, his eyes not leaving your center as he anchors his thick arms under your ass and thighs, bringing your cunt impossibly closer to his eager mouth.

Joel knows your body, knows what every twitch and minor shift means, how your breathing quickens when he’s brought you right to the edge, the sounds you make when you’ve completely given in, forfeited all control. And he senses it, when his thumb presses against the cleft of your ass, and a moan slips from deep within your throat, that he’s uncovered something, something that makes his cock twitch and drip onto the sheets below him.

He pulls away quick, too quick, and your face burns, the fleeting sensation prompting a new surge of desire in the pit of your stomach. The feeling was foreign, a bit startling, but in a way that left you longing for more. If you were to trust anyone to delve into this part of yourself, this uncharted territory, it would be Joel. It would always be Joel. He knew how to take care of you better than any man you’d ever known. With him you were safe, you were heard, cherished and adored. With him there was no emotion too big or too small, no desire left unsated.

“Joel-“ you breath. “Joel, baby. I want-“

He pulls away from you, a knowing look in his glassed over eyes. “What is it, honey? What d’ you want?”

He can’t help himself and licks a long strip from your asshole to your clit, moaning at the taste. “Fuck- Joel,” you cry out, a drop of sweat falling to your forehead. “Want- want your fingers.”

“Where d’ you want my fingers, baby.” He says it more like a command than a question, but you can’t respond, your head falling back as he starts lapping at your clit. “You want them in this sweet little cunt?” He prods one of his thick fingers at your opening, but quickly pulls away, leaving you clenching around nothing.

You bite your lip, eyes hooded. “Mm,” you shake your head. His eyes are nearly black now, something unhinged, sinful behind his gaze. He knows what you want, the seed already planted in his insatiable brain, but he wasn’t going to give in to your pleads that easily.

“Dirty girl.” His voice has dropped an octave. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please, daddy” you squirm, tears pooling at your waterline, threatening to fall at any second. His hardened grip on your hips softens for a moment before he’s turning his head and biting the inside of your thigh, hard. You gasp, a tear rolls down your cheek. “Use your words.”

“I wan- I-I don’t-,” you babble, the tears now flowing freely, leaving wet trails down your cheeks. He lets you choke on your words for a moment, not once tearing his eyes away from yours.

“Oh honey, I know s’ hard,” he soothes, sliding his hand along the curve of your ass. Your tears slow. “S’okay. Daddy’s gonna give you what you need. No more cryin’.”

You sniffle, a small smile spreading across your face at his words. You always had a way of making him cave.

His expression goes serious for a moment. “What’s your safe word?” Red. “And you’ll use it if you want me to stop?” Mhm. “Repeat it.” His commanding tone sends a chill down your spine. “If I want you to stop, I’ll say red,” you say softly and run a hand through his curls, wet with a mixture of your sweat and his own.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna make you feel so good,” he says more to himself than you. Your brain turns to absolute mush when his mouth meets your skin once again.

Even with his head between your legs, even when he’s on his knees for you, he’s the one in charge, the one that dictates your every move. How your body twists and bends to his will. He decides when you get to cum, decides when you’ve earned it. And there’s a certain feeling that comes with it, this loss of autonomy, a sense of ease and security created by a total loss of control. No other man you’ve been with has understood, most of them only seeking to fulfill their own selfish wants. But Joel knows, having understood this unfamiliar part of you almost as soon as the two of you met, knowing exactly how to satiate that little corner of your brain that craves submission.

You suck in a sharp breath when you feel his calloused thumb return to your tight hole, tensing a bit when he adds more pressure.

“Relax, baby.” And you do, your muscles go lax almost immediately and the furrow in your brow softens. You exhale a moan as he begins kissing your cunt, avoiding your most sensitive areas so that he can keep you focused on the feeling of his thumb pushing into you.

“Fu- fuck, Joel!” You basically shriek when the tip of his thumb breeches the ring of muscle, it’s already all consuming, already so full.

He retracts his thumb and you let out a choked sound before he brings his thick finger to your wetness, gathering slick on the pad of his thumb before resuming his unrushed stretching of your virgin hole.

“More ngh- please.” He prods you painfully slow, assessing your every reaction as his knuckle plunges into you.

“Uh-uh. Don’t care how nice n’ polite you ask, baby. Not gonna ruin this little hole.” He plants wet kisses along your seam. “Not yet,” he says almost inaudibly against your mound before devouring you once more. The promise of more makes something in your brain snap, all the shyness and trepidations from before gone in one fleeting moment.

He stretches you slowly, the speed of his mouth quickening and his thumb beginning to slide more easily in and out of you. You’re entirely lost in the feeling, completely overwhelmed by the pressure and the speed of his tongue on your clit. You cry out when he removes his thumb, replacing it with his middle finger, and dipping his freed digit into your cunt, completely overcome, overstimulated in the best way.

It’s too much, but not enough. But no, it’s too much. He’s everywhere, in your cunt, your ass, your head. All you can think is how anything in life could ever feel this good. How anyone can be this good, this knowing of your every want, every need. The thought makes tears pinch at the corner of your eyes.

His gaze is fixed on you, every twitch, every shift. He nearly comes at the sight of you grinding down on his fingers. That’s it baby, fuck yourself on my fingers. His movements slow, your orgasm begins to fade and you whine. You’re not even thinking when you bring your delicate fingers to your clit and trace small circles against the bundle of nerves. Joel immediately grabs your hand and pins it to your lower stomach, nearly growling against your skin. Any other time he’d have you bent over his knee for not asking permission, but he’s so drunk on you, so dead-set on making you come apart, he lets this one slide.

“Need t’ come so bad, huh baby?” You nod your head furiously, a few more tears slipping down your cheeks. “Go ‘head n’ ask for it then, baby. Nice n’ polite like I know you can.”

“Please daddy, please let me come.” You barely register the words falling from your mouth, but the proud look on Joel’s face tells you all you need to know.

It doesn’t take much to send you over the edge. He sucks harshly on your clit, pulling it into his mouth, while his thick fingers work each of your holes. His hand holding yours presses harder, harder, harder until the tension snaps and you’re screaming, sobbing out as you gush around him, soaking his scruff to the point that your slick drips from his chin and onto the already drenched sheets. He works you through it, curling his fingers into your cunt so that another warm stream of slick hits his tongue. And he takes, not letting a single drop go to waste as he laps at you.

Your head is still buzzing when he finally ceases his movements, the shockwaves of your orgasm still flowing through you making your whole body shake. Your muscles convulse as he slowly pulls his fingers from your core.

With blurred vision you watch him stand at the end of the bed, his cock painfully hard, red and leaking. You hadn’t even considered what all this was doing to him, so lost in your own pleasure from the moment your eyes opened. You have the sudden urge to fall to your knees and take him into your mouth until he comes deep down your throat, but your body is limp, sunk into the mattress below you. You merely watch with hooded eyes as he fists himself, his gaze fixed on your slicked core, the sight makes another pool of your arousal drip onto the sheets.

“Fuck-“ he sucks in a sharp breath, his hips stuttering against his own hold. “Need t’ be inside this tight cunt, baby.”

Your eyes go slightly wide at his confession, yet your lower half shakes with anticipation. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this, this wrecked, desperate, this needy. He looks almost pained when your eyes meet his, and you feel as though you may just implode if he’s not inside you a moment longer.

“Will you let me, pretty girl?”

You nod.

“Yes or no, baby?” He squeezes the base of his shaft, staving off his impending release. You can’t help but smile a little, knowing he could come just like this, just from looking at you in your current state. But the need to feel him inside of you pulls you from the thought.

Yes, please, yes.

He grabs your hips and swiftly flips you, shoving a pillow under your lower belly and pushing down on you until you’re laid almost flat on your stomach. He grabs roughly at your hips, pulling you up so that his cock brushes up against your slick folds.

You bite down on your forearm when his wide tip notches at your entrance, basically drooling onto your own skin as you attempt to hold back your cries. He eases into you, still overly conscious of your sensitivity, ignoring the small part of his brain telling him to ram into you, make you feel every inch of him in one swift motion. He knows that you would take it, thank him for it, always such a good girl for him especially once he’s finally inside you, yet he knows the kind of control he has over you in these moments, knows it’s up to him to determine what you can and can’t take.

When he bottoms out you feel as though you may just split in two, something animalistic sounds from deep within Joel’s throat. Tears fall to your arm when your head lolls to the side, your breathing ragged and your whole body on fire from both pain and pleasure.

“Fuck- not gonna last, baby.” He starts moving in and out of you slowly, and god, it hurts, yet your tight cunt sucks him back in with each of his thrusts, a delicious burning sensation spreading along your slick walls. You open your mouth to respond, to tell him not to worry himself, to beg him to come inside your aching cunt. But all that escapes your lips is a choked sob in the sound of Joel’s name.

“Shh I know,” he coos. “You’re just so little, huh sweet thing? Little fucking cunt squeezing me so good honey.”

You keen at his praise, gushing around his massive girth. You’d never get used to it, the thickness of his cock, the weight of him deep inside your cunt. No matter how much he prepares you, it’s always a stretch, always just short of too much to bare.

His thumb presses into the cleft of your ass as his pace increases. “Gonna let me fuck you here, baby?”

“Yes daddy,” you say and he freezes for a moment, your words nearly sending him over the edge.

“Not today, little girl,” he growls and rocks back into you. A feeling of combined relief and disappointment washes over you. You’re not sure you could take it, not now, but part of you craves to be reduced to nothing but Joel’s fuck toy, fucked deep and full until you can’t even think, nothing but a few holes to be filled.

“You’d let me though, wouldn’t ya?” He pulls you from your thought. “Dirty fuckin’ thing.”

“Mhm, yes daddy.” Your vision goes black at the feeling of his cock pulsing against your cervix. He was close, you could feel it in the way his thrusts went erratic, sloppy and slightly hurried.

“Let me do whatever I want to ya, huh?”

“Yes daddy,” you say the only two words left in your brain.

“Fuck, so fucking perfect, baby-“ The feeling of his warm release shooting inside of you makes you twitch around him and your brain go fuzzy. You can barely hear Joel’s grunts and moans nor his incessant praises over the ringing in your ears. This is what you craved, beyond the physical gratification brought on by these moments, but the way the world around you disappeared and you were filled with nothing but the content of being his, being Joel’s. The safety you felt beneath his large form, it leaves no room for worry, no thoughts of the stress of everyday life, no decisions to be made. Just him, just Joel.

You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like this, long enough to feel your combined release dripping from Joel’s cock onto your trembling thighs, long enough that you feel yourself dipping in and out of sleep, in and out of consciousness.

When he finally pulls out of you, he lets your hips softly fall onto the bed, your body sprawled across the damp sheets. You feel the mattress shift behind you as he stands, immediately heading for the en suite bathroom. At the loss of his presence, you’re reminded of the open window, the now midmorning breeze dancing across your damp skin. You can’t help but wonder if the echoes of your morning endeavors made their way to the street below, if a neighbor passing by could make out the sounds of your shrieks and screams, if perhaps it’d been a cause for concern until it became apparent that your cries were derived from a place of pleasure and not pain nor fear.

Joel returns and takes quick notice of your shivering, immediately making his way to the window and shutting it. You smile to yourself at the sight of his bare backside, so strong and sturdy, the muscles in his shoulders sculpted from years of working on various job sites, tapering down to his waist, the dimples right above his ass. It’s truly a view you would never tire of.

“‘S impolite to stare, y’ know?” He catches your eye, a playful smirk spread across his face. You giggle at him, still laying on your belly, your head tucked into the crook of your elbow. He chuckles when you make grabby hands at him with your free hand, to which he quickly concedes, bending over at your side and planting a kiss on your lips. You sigh against him, carding your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer.

“Hey baby.” He breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your nose. He tucks fallen pieces of hair behind your ear. “You okay?”

You nod your head tiredly, unable to muster any more of a response, and he doesn’t attempt to pull one out of you, kissing your nose and rising back to his feet.

He disappears once again, this time returning dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a damp washcloth in hand. He sits next to you on the bed, moving to clean between your legs, but your thighs clamp shut. It’s a purely physical reaction, your body on high alert due to the sensitivity.

“Hey hey-“ he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine then leans over to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Just want t’ clean you up sweet girl. I’ll be so gentle, promise.” His soothing makes your legs instinctively relax and he brings the washcloth to the apex of your thighs. He’s gentle just like he promised, yet you still hiss slightly when the warm material meets your sensitive skin.

When he’s finished, he grabs one of his t-shirts and a pair of shorts from the dresser, quickly returning to your side and urging you to turn onto your back. He dresses you, your body like putty in his hands, his touch gentle and warm. You can’t deny the aching feeling in your lower half when he slides your shorts on, but it’s a good kind of ache, an ache you’ll crave as soon as it dissipates.

You grab at him again when he moves to pull away, but he makes it easy for you, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, careful not to bare any of his weight on you. The little whimpers that slip past your lips as your warm mouth moves across his make his spent cock twitch.

It scared him sometimes, the intensity with which he felt for you, the depth of his affections. It scared him, the thoughts he had, of what he would do to those who meant to hurt you, to those who have hurt you. It scared him, the thought of losing you, the lengths he would go to keep you safe, keep you here, here with him. But it was in these moments, when you’re laid beneath him, so soft and so lovely, that all those fears melted away.

Before things move any further, he hooks his arms under you and lifts you from the bed with ease. You don’t protest, not sure you could even if you wanted to, instead you latch onto him, curl your face into his neck and wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you downstairs to the living room.

He attempts to set you on the couch, but you cling to him like a koala, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “Let go,” he says firmly, a smile behind his words. “Don’t wanna,” you mumble against his skin, whining as he unfurls you from his torso and plops you on the couch. He places the TV remote in your hand, telling you to put somethin’ on, whatever you want.

He disappears into the kitchen and you attempt to sit up on the couch, your body going slack against the cushions. Your brain is still buzzing, it’s almost like you’re floating, not yet fully aware of your surroundings, but you can slowly feel yourself coming back to reality. You turn the TV on and set it to your latest recording.

Joel returns a few minutes later, your favorite water bottle and a plate of peanut butter toast in hand, a bottle of Advil in the other. He sits on the couch, immediately urging you onto his lap, and you don’t object.

“The Bachelor?” He says, a hint of judgement in his voice as he unscrews the cap of the Advil.

“You love it,” you respond, beginning to lose focus on the show as you squirm and slither against his body, making yourself comfortable as if he were part of the couch. Joel softly chuckles, wrapping an arm loosely around you.

He holds a few of the pills in front of you. “Joel I’m fine. I don’t-“

“Not asking, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes, but take the Advil from him nonetheless, swallowing them down when Joel holds the straw of your water bottle to your mouth, knowing your body would thank you for it later.

“Good girl,” he plants a quick kiss to your temple, before grabbing the toast from the coffee table, heat rises to your cheeks at his words.

He feeds you the toast, taking bites for himself while you chew. You hadn’t realized how depleted your body was, now feeling the haze lift with some food and water in your system. Every time it’s like coming back to earth, but fortunately you know that Joel will always be there to catch you.

y'all I’m not good at endings pls forgive me

but hope we enjoyed the rest :p

part two

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #joel miller au #tlou au #joel miller fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

laangdonn · 4 months

Text

not anymore pt2

summary: y/n tries growing in her grief at hilltop.

pairing: carl grimes x female reader

a/n: ya’llllllll thank you so much for loving the first part!!! i’d actually written pt1 a year ago and never rlly planned to ever make a pt2 but ask and you shall receive lolol, hope you like!!

*read part 1 here*

*************************

“todays the day rick n carl should be gettin here,” maggie said, sending a spoon with tomato soup into her mouth, “you ready to see him?”

i released a shaky breath, playing with my own bowl of food as my starved appetite vanished. i stared at the red, swirling liquid. “i don’t know.”

“a month wasn’t enough time apart?” she asked, eyeing me cautiously.

i hadn’t wanted to repeat myself, but i had no other answer. “i- i don’t know.”

it hadnt seemed like a month apart. i would’ve sworn it had been yesterday i walked out of alexandria alone, two duffel bags in my hand and a gun, ready to fend off anything or anyone that crossed my path.

but it had been a month, the longest we’d ever been apart. and i missed him more than anything.

it still didn’t shake my hesitancy, my worry that the moment we spend time alone we’ll go back to disagreements and fighting and perhaps, i’d never go back to alexandria again. and that’ll be the end of us. till one of dies and the other is forced to reconcile the fact that we’d never made up.

it scared me to see him. to see death again.

“well,” maggie swallowed again, her short hair bristling in the chilly air from the open window, “i think when you see him, that’s when you’ll really know.”

i nodded slowly, my eyes still trained on my soup.

she stood up out of the chair, “i need to find greg, talk to him ‘bout a few things.” she eyed me again, noticing my static, unmoving position. “you’ll be alright while i’m gone?”

i looked up at her then, not wanting her to worry, “i’ll be fine, mags.”

she gave me a small, reassuring smile and a kiss on the crown of my head before she went off, and i was left in my thoughts.

luckily, maggie’s trailer provided a lot of privacy, and knowing the tenants at hilltop, i wouldn’t be disturbed.

i stared off to a chip in the paint, thinking.

——

“i can come with you.”

“carl-“

“why can’t i just take you to hilltop and leave?”

“because, carl, don’t-“

“it’s dangerous, y/n, and reckless-“

“carl-“

“and stupid-“

“would you stop interrupting me!”

he went quiet then, his burly arms crossed over his flannel chest, eye staring daggers into my figure.

we stood by the door to our house, two duffel bags leaning against the wall i so desperately wanted to pick up and run out.

i knew despite him saying he wouldn’t stop me going, it wouldn’t eliminate the imminent last ditch effort fight from occurring.

“you told me you’d let me go.” i said slowly, as if reprimanding a child, “don’t go back on your word.”

he rolled his eyes, “god forbid i don’t want you out there by yourself! have my dad take you for fucks sake just don’t-“ he pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling stressfully, “don’t go by yourself.”

“i can take care of myself, carl.” i spat, feeling anger surge through me at his distrust in me. “i’ve survived this long.”

“you never know what can happen out there.” he threw his hands up, “or here! yesterday, that dick’s gun was to your head in this fucking room!”

i felt his rage, i voiced his yells. it made my head spiral that i were still trapped in alexandria, suffocating in this broken reflection of my relationship that could barely withstand some independence.

but, bringing myself to reality, i also knew his fear, knew the dread at the unknown. knew the loss he was experiencing even while i was still standing in front of him, alive and breathing.

i shuddered out a breath, walking over to him to put my hands sturdily on his shoulders.

i looked up at him, watching his anger dissipate when we locked eyes.

“i know you’re scared for me,” i said softly, talking quickly before he’d have a chance, “but i need you to trust me.”

“y/n-“

“no,” i put my finger to his soft lips, “let me finish.”

i brought my hand down, his eye watching my finger fall from his flesh.

“i’ll send a letter the second i get to hilltop, so you know i’m safe,” i swallowed, “i’ll have my gun loaded and extra ammo, anything i could scavenge up from the armory.”

his eyebrow relaxed, listening to me talk.

“this is what we’re made for now,” i shook him a bit and sent him a weary smile to ease his tension, “we’re made to do these things on our own.”

he exhaled shakily, nodding to fool himself into thinking he’d allow this, that he’d watch me walk away from him into trees of undead and alive.

i leaned up to his face, our noses brushing every so slightly. my heart boomed in my chest, beating so hard i swore he could hear it himself. maybe it was both of our hearts, desperate to intertwine again.

“do you trust me?” i whispered softly, so our lips grazed.

i heard him swallow, and the breath from his nose fan my face.

“yeah,”

i pulled back at that, knowing if we kissed, for the first time since…, i knew i’d lose the battle to my heart and stay.

i grabbed the two duffel bags and locked my palm around the doorknob.

looking over my shoulder, i sent a reassuring smile, “i’ll see you when we’re okay.”

he didn’t respond, and while it sent a jolt to my gut of disappointment and guilt, i turned back and opened the door.

“y/n,” i heard him say, just as i left.

i barely looked over my shoulder.

“i love you.”

i bit my lip, finally, tears stinging the corners of my eyes.

“i love you, too.”

and the door shut.

——

crossing the lines to hilltop and realizing who i’d be seeing almost sent me running the other direction.

fear of maggie’s state of being gave me a headache as i drew closer to the entrance, and once i was close enough in view, could see her faint outline on a lookout post illuminated by the bright sun behind her.

i knew she saw me when i heard a voice scream my name.

she disappeared from the post and soon the large, wooden doors opened. i ran the rest of the way, dropping my bags and falling tiredly into her expectant arms.

as much as i told myself i’d stay strong for her, the smell of her hair and the memories of that night came sweeping back and i sobbed, wet and noisily, into her chest that shook with her own cries.

i didn’t realize we’d fallen to the floor till i felt my exposed knees sting from skimming the rough dirt.

“what-“ she sniffled, a sob breaking through her, “what are you doing here?”

i took a shaky breath in, trying to compose myself, “i came to see you.”

she frowned, burying her face back into my shoulder.

we cried a few more moments, let ourselves drown in glenn’s absence, in front of all the onlookers who just watched silently.

i pulled back, dread creeping into my stomach when i looked at maggie’s

“the-“ i swallowed, “the baby-“

“fine,” she answered quickly, stroking tears off my cheeks and sending me a faint smile, “just fine.”

i breathed a sigh of relief, nodding at the scarce good news before standing and helping her up, too.

she looked healthier than the last time i saw her, fatter in her face and her arms. her stomach barely bulged as a reminder a part of glenn resided there.

behind her i saw sasha standing, her arms folded. even from far away, i could tell she just looked even worse, instead of better.

i sent her my best sympathetic smile, receiving one back but knowing deep down, it was just another lie to comfort me.

i looked to maggie, gripping her forearms, “take me to him.”

seeing glenn’s grave, surprisingly, comforted me more than disturbed me. to know we had him, safe under dirt and bugs, but still, safe. better than laying out in the gravel, for prying, evil eyes to view him.

he was returned back to us in less than one piece, but his soul was whole with us.

i held maggie’s hand as we looked down, a few flowers resting over the raised patch of dirt.

i swallowed harshly, “what would he think now?”

“of what?” she asked softly, our eyes never wavering from the ground.

“of carl and i. of what’s been destroyed.”

i felt her squeeze my hand, “you and carl aren’t destroyed.”

i shook my head, feeling tears blur my vision and my nose sting.

she continued, “you’re right for the time apart, to grieve separately if that’s what you need.”

“is it enough?” i asked brokenly, finally looking at her.

she gestured our intertwined hands to glenn’s grave.

“ask him.”

and so i did.

i spoke to glenn’s grave everyday. sometimes scattered stories of our memories, from the prison, from on the road. sometimes i cried so hard i couldn’t breathe under the empty dusk, sometimes i laughed so hard my stomach hurt. sometimes i sat in silence.

but mostly i talked about carl.

——

if i stared hard enough at that paint chip, i could’ve sworn the wall tore a bit more right before my eyes.

i knew who i had to see, to remind me this absence was for something, that i’d grown in my grief.

my feet carried me to his grave, hidden away behind maggie’s trailer. i sat down comfortably in front of it, hugging my knees to my chest.

“are we okay?” i whispered to the air. “will i see you in him?”

“was all of this for nothing? will it always be this way, glenn?” i wiped my hand over my nose.

i let out a shaky breath at the thought, “can we overcome this?”

“yes.”

my head whipped around, and i saw carl, standing with his arms at his sides, tears filling up his ocean eye.

it gave me whiplash how fast i stood up and launched myself into his unexpecting arms. they rested limp for a moment, but quickly moved to hug my torso tightly, lifting my feet slightly off the grass as i wedged my head between his neck.

we pulled back slightly to stare at each other, and i searched his face for the blood, for the black line, for the axe.

i smiled softly when i realized all i saw were glenn’s memories.

happy memories, of the hot days at the prison when we sweat so hard playing tag, of playing a dusty board game in alexandria the first night when we were too hesitant to sleep, of watching his love with maggie and seeing it reflected in carl and i.

“why’re you smiling?” he whispered, his own face pulling to reveal a grin. he knew.

i leaned in closer, tipping his sheriffs hat up so our noses could brush.

“because i don’t see it, not anymore.” i finally let our lips touch, a kiss that sent flames bursting in my stomach and my fingers to shake with anticipation.

he leaned into the kiss, and i felt the breath on my face at his sigh of relief.

i knew he knew what i meant when i saw the tiny twinkle in his eyes reappear looking at me, knowing he felt the same.

i pulled back ever too quickly, evident in how he leaned in again.

but before i gave him the chance to kiss me again, i let my smile burst through.

we all had a long way to go, people to kill and more people to lose, but in this moment, right in this moment:

“i see you now.” i said.

and that was enough.

#carl grimes angst #carl grimes #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes fluff #twd #the walking dead #maggie greene #maggie rhee #twd angst #glenn rhee #carl grimes one shot #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x fem!reader #twd season 7 #twd carl

282 notes · View notes

jeannineee · 9 months

Note

DVP for smut bingo, with Cass and Az? 🥵

Full

Azriel x Cassian x Reader

a/n: oh to be stuck between these two Illyrians. This is filthy, lolol. Based on this bingo card.

nsfw under the cut (18+ please)

“Both of you? At once?” you asked Cassian and Azriel incredulously.

“You’ve taken both of us plenty of times before,” Cassian replied casually.

You deadpanned. “Yes, but not in that way.”

“Don’t feel obligated to try it, just because we want to, sweetheart,” Azriel said, tucking your hair behind your ear. “We want you to be comfortable—“

You interrupted him. “I’ll try it.”

Cassian chuckled. “Told you, Az.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You laid back against Cassian’s hard chest, the only thing keeping you from writhing being his tight grip on your waist. Azriel’s head was between your legs, tongue lapping at your folds as his two fingers curled against your walls.

“So wet for us already,” Cassian murmured in your ear, holding you still for Azriel. “Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me.”

You couldn’t reply, the only noises coming from you being strings of curses and moans as Azriel continued, lips wrapping around your clit. He sucked the bud gently as he added a third finger, groaning against you as your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at it.

Cassian and his filthy mouth continued. “Think you can take it, baby? Both of our cocks stretching your pretty little cunt?”

“Y-Yes, yes, fuck,” You choked on your response as Azriel curled his fingers perfectly, sending you straight through your orgasm.

Cassian trailed kisses along your neck, your shoulder, as you came down from your high, with Azriel kissing up your body. Azriel’s lips met yours, the taste of your arousal still apparent as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

Azriel pulled you off of Cassian so he could adjust his position. Cassian now lay on his back, his cock resting against his rock-hard abs. “My eyes are up here,” he teased as you stared.

You rolled your eyes as you slowly climbed into his lap. You lifted your hips, the two of you moaning in unison as you lowered yourself on his cock.

“Shit, y/n. So fucking perfect,” Cassian said, hands roughly cupping your ass, and pulling you forward, baring you for Azriel.

“Tell me to stop if it hurts,” Azriel told you as the tip of his cock brushed against your entrance.

You relaxed as much as you could as Azriel slowly, carefully pushed inside of you. It was unlike anything you’d ever done before—you felt so full. “Oh, fuck,” you breathed.

Azriel and Cassian both tensed. “Are you okay?” Azriel asked quickly.

You nodded eagerly. “Yes. I’m fine. Keep going.”

Azriel continued, groaning as your cunt enveloped him, and Cassian’s cock slid against his. “Fucking hell, sweetheart.”

“Fucking hell, indeed,” Cassian echoed.

“Please move,” you told them.

Cassian moved first, setting a slow, gentle pace. Azriel cursed at the friction, before moving in tandem with him. You were practically a puddle on Cassian’s chest as the two of them fucked you, slow and deep.

“So good for us,” Azriel praised. “Such a good girl, taking both of our cocks.”

Cassian almost seemed just as fucked out as you were, between your cunt squeezing him impossibly tight, and Azriel’s cock moving against his with each thrust.

“Not gonna last long,” Cassian uttered breathlessly.

You could hardly speak, but you knew you weren’t lasting long, either. You tummy was already tightening, that familiar heat building within you.

Azriel reached around you, fingers expertly toying with your clit. “Gonna come on our cocks, sweetheart?”

The sentence had barely left him before you orgasm ripped through you, your walls fluttering around the both of them as your entire body shuddered.

“That’s it,” Azriel cooed. “There you go, baby,”

“Fuck, oh, fuck,” Cassian groaned as he found his own release, spilling into you. His brows furrowed, abs tensing as Azriel continued thrusting, overstimulating the both of you.

Azriel cursed as he came, his release coating your walls, and Cassian’s cock. For several moments, the only sounds were your shared breathing, until Cassian broke the silence.

“Round two?”

#acotar #acotar headcanon #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acotar smut #smut #female reader #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #acosf #acowar #Cassian acotar #acotar Cassian #cassian x azriel x reader #azriel x cassian x reader #Azriel smut #Cassian smut

696 notes · View notes

crackedpumpkin · 11 months

Text

|| ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ᴘᴛ. ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ||

a/n: Hello loves! So sorry I kept y'all waiting for part three, I hope you enjoy this! Just wanted to let y'all know that I'll be flying off to South Korea for a vacation, and will only be back on the 22nd of June so updates will be paused till then. I'll try to continue writing on my trip, but there are no guarantees I won't be too tired lolol. Love, pumpkin.

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

Blackmail — The act of attempting to force someone to do something or give up something valuable by threatening negative consequences if they don’t, especially revealing negative information about them.

That's what the online dictionary says anyway, which is perfect!

As such, it wouldn't be blackmail as much as it would be....persuasive negotiation. Which is the exact opposite of blackmail, which, again, is perfect!

Yeah, you’re getting nowhere with this.

You stifle a defeated groan as you collapse onto the plush mattress of your bed, dragging your hands down your face. Your phone beeps with a message, startling you out of your thoughts.

Nicole [ 7.15 PM ]: Did you find what you were looking for?

Nicole [ 7.15 PM ]: ?

Nicole [ 7.30 PM ]: Update me tomorrow.

Right. Nicole. Your hand falls limply to the side, fingers loosely gripping the device.

Crap.

How would you explain it to her? She’s always been good at sniffing out your lies. To tell, or not to tell. That is the question. Maybe you should just pretend nothing happened. That’d be the only reasonable thing to do in this situation, right?

But your art is at risk here. And if it’s anything you’ve learnt over your many years of living, it’s that you’re a stubborn bull that can’t back down once you’re set on something. And right now, you’re set on getting Spiderman to be your model.

You might get your mojo back if you draw him enough times. Maybe your art block won’t be so constipated anymore, and perhaps you might even get into the art school you have your eye on.

And maybe, just maybe, you might catch the eye of the art scouts at the end-of-year exhibition.

So there’s no way you can afford to give this up.

You’ll convince him. You have to.

— — — — —

“So, why’d you ignore my messages yesterday?”

You flinch away from the sudden hand on your shoulder, fingers decorated with rings glinting in the sun. Michael winces from where he’s standing opposite you, taking a long, slow sip of his juice box.

You stammer out Nicole’s name in surprise, the girl in question looking at you with a raised brow and serious eyes. She scans your nervous smile and flushed cheeks, letting go of you with a nod.

“You met him. How was it?”

Damn it.

“I didn’t end up meeting him,” You say with a defeated sigh, hoping it’s not excessive. Being under Nicole’s observant gaze is one of the scariest experiences in the world, with pigeons in close proximity a close second.

“Okay,” Her dubious tone gives you a slight sense of hope, only for your heart to drop at her next question. “So, why’d you ask me for Miles’s photo?”

“I, uh, ran into him and thought he looked familiar. So, I asked for his picture to double check,” You admit, hoping the truth mixed into some lies would be enough to convince her.

“Right…What’s your impression of him, then?”

“Cute?” You blurt out without thinking, recalling the framed picture of his young self with his parents on the small table.

“You think he’s cute?”

“M-maybe?” You try, but it clicks once you see the disgust in her eyes. “Yes! I do, in fact, find him very attractive. One might even say that he is now my…crush?”

You pray she doesn’t notice the underlying wince in your words. Nicole shudders, taking a small step away from you. “You need to get your eyes checked or something. I’ve known the guy since we were in diapers, and trust me when I say that he’s nothing but trouble.”

“I won’t do anything, I promise. Besides, I’m sure the crush is just temporary. It’ll blow over before you even know it!” Mainly because you don’t have a crush on the guy in the first place. But you do need to figure out a way to trap him to persuade him into being your model.

“Wait, you met Miles?”

“Why’re you glossing over the fact that she likes him?” Nicole says incredulously, gesturing to you with wide eyes. It’s probably the most expressive you’ve ever seen her, save for the time you invited them to go cafe hopping with you on a sweltering Monday.

You’d never heard so many variations of curses before, all of which Nicole unintentionally introduced you to. Since then, you’ve learnt to only hang out on cooler days with better weather and cafes within walking distance.

“So?” Michael shrugs nonchalantly, but the amused smile on his lips suggests otherwise. “Why are you so affected?”

“Because it’s my best friend liking Miles Morales - the guy I’ve known since we were babies. He’s not good enough for her.” Nicole decides with a frown. You turn to her, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you place your hands on your heart.

“I’m your best friend?” Nicole rolls her eyes at your words, crossing her arms. “You can drop from that tier anytime, so you better watch out.” She replies simply with a halfhearted glare, but her words have no bite to them. Her ears are tinted red.

“Aww,” You coo, throwing your arms around the girl who baulks in surprise, almost falling to the ground had you not steadied both of you. She wriggles under your tight hug, giving up quickly with a groan.

“Let me get in on that, chicas-” Michael is cut off when you kick his ankle, biting back a pained cry while you continue to hug Nicole, who has a satisfied smirk at your action. “Good job.” She pats your arm, and you reluctantly let go, dramatically wiping the tears away.

At least you succeeded in distracting her.

The rest of the day practically flies by, your body on autopilot and going through the motions of taking out your textbooks and doodling on them. Math, Science, and History were all meaningless in your eyes as you tried to make another plan to meet him. The past three attempts had shown you exactly how difficult it was to meet with the hero, much less alone.

You’re not one to give up, though. You stare down at the piece of paper filled with doodles and scribbled words — an outline of a plan, circling Spiderman’s name in red.

Okay, let’s try this again.

Attempt #1: Meet Him At The Park - The Friendly Way.

You take a tentative glance around. Good, No dogs are in sight. You look over to the park's far end, where you had set up a sign saying that dog treats were being given out for free if they assembled there.

Sometimes, lying is an essential means of survival. Another quick scan of your surroundings confirms that no one is in the path of the taco truck, and feeling only slightly guilty when you spot the owner’s surprised expression, wondering why his usual customers aren’t present.

However, you try not to linger on that, choosing to double-check if everything you need is on you.

Phone? Check. Earbuds? Check. Wallet? Check. Spiderman?

You grin once you spot the masked hero landing in front of the taco truck, right on schedule.

Check.

Standing up, you slowly make your way over, giving him time to place his order. Every step is light, your heart oddly calm as you approach him. Yeah. You got this. It’s just getting him to agree that’s the hard part.

Okay. You got this. Play it cool.

Walking up to the taco truck, you clear your throat, propping your elbow onto the small metal platform near the baskets of condiments. You casually glance at him, scanning his suit from head to toe before meeting his eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies slowly with a slight tilt of his head, surprised by your sudden presence. He taps his fingers against the cold metal of the taco truck in a steady rhythm. You take a slow breath. You can take your time. It’s just a boy under the mask, after all.

“So, how’s being Spiderman going?” You ask absentmindedly, looking down at your nails and only now noticing that you’re in desperate need of a manicure.

“It’s going good. And you?”

“Could be better.”

“That doesn’t sound good. Is it anything your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman can help with?” His words are filled with worry, now giving you his full attention.

Got him.

“Well…” You trail off, barely managing to hide the excitement in your eyes and voice. Now’s the time to approach him carefully. If you’re careless, you could lose one of the few opportunities to get him to be your muse.

“Uh-huh?” He grabs the paper bag of tacos the owner hands him, handing him a crumpled bill from a hidden pocket in his suit with a quick nod of thanks in one smooth movement. However, he hears a slight commotion a short distance away, eyes narrowing as he tries to determine the source.

“I’m an art student, and I need a muse,” You continue, encouraged by his questioning hum and failing to notice the way his gaze is focused on something happening behind you. “So I was thinking-”

“Right, uh, miss. You seem like an absolutely wonderful lady. I’m so sorry, but we’ll have to continue this conversation another day. Duty’s kinda calling right now. I’ll pass by the basketball court tomorrow, and you can ask me your question there?” You can’t tell if he’s smiling, grinning, or even scowling under the mask. But it didn’t exactly sound hostile, so that’s that you suppose.

“Meet me at the sub shop on Fifth Avenue, two lefts after the huge statue and a right at the Lego store. Two-thirty P.M.,” You reply immediately. Why Mr Perez’s shop, in particular, you didn’t know. But you’re not about to chase after his ass again after the last few times. Not a chance in hell.

He agrees with a quick but apologetic nod, already swinging off with his paper bag of tacos and heading toward the angry horde of dog parents around the sign you placed earlier. You watch him land before them, trying to calm the group down.

Well, at least you got an appointment with him tomorrow. The problem now is how to make sure he accepts. Plus, him constantly running off isn’t the most ideal scenario in your situation.

So, you have to make sure he stays put.

You walk off, heading to the sub shop with the beginnings of an idea. (While simultaneously forgetting about the horde of dog parents who’re growing increasingly angrier from the absence of promised dog treats).

— — — — —

“Mr Perez, nice shirt! Did you separate the whites from the colours? It looks so clean!” You greet as soon as you walk in, taking a deep breath and smiling at the scent of pickle brine. The store is relatively empty, the last customer leaving through the door just as you walked in.

The store owner walks to the glass door, flipping the sign around to read Closed. He sends you a wary glance, walking back behind the counter to start cleaning up while you lean against the glass display case.

“What do you want?”

“Who said I wanted anything?”

“You only compliment my laundry when you want something.” It’s true. You do tend to do that. You suppose it’s time to be rid of the habit. But not today, for you have much more important goals to pursue.

“Okay. I need to borrow the storeroom for, like, a couple of hours tomorrow afternoon. No disturbances, complete privacy. Not even Didi is allowed in.” You get straight to the point, not bothering to beat around the bush.

“...Are you doing drugs?”

“That’s gross. And unsanitary. If I were doing drugs, I’d do it in the Science lab at school.” You point out, scrunching your nose in disgust.

“Are you smoking? Vaping?”

“No, and no. C’mon, Mr Perez, I thought you knew me better than that!” You huff, though you know that he’s just joking from the amused twinkle in his eyes.

“Fine. Just give me the signal. Besides, Didi’s at preschool tomorrow till five.” He says simply, wiping down his workstation with a clean cloth.

“Really? No takebacks!” You say with an exaggerated gasp, not expecting him to actually agree. The bright smile on your face makes him chuckle, shaking his head fondly as he washes up the kitchen knives in the sink.

“What time will you be coming?”

“Two-thirty. Remember, you promised no questions asked!” You call out over your shoulder as you exit while raising your hand in a quick salute. You saunter on home with your hands in your pockets, chest swelling with pride that you got a guaranteed meeting with the very boy you’ve been trying to convince to be your muse.

You’ve definitely got this.

— — — — —

Attempt #2: Kidnap Meet Him At The Sub Store - The Friendly Way.

Two-fifteen P.M.

You glance over at the IKEA clock hanging from the wall opposite you in the storeroom, tying the string securely around the metal shelf. Taking a step back, you survey the setup, scanning it for flaws in your otherwise perfect plan.

You arrange the chair to sit behind a wobbly table that’s about to break any day now due to countless playtimes with Didi’s mischievous ideas. (And maybe some of your own, but Mr Perez doesn’t need to know that.)

The bright light in the slightly cramped storeroom only adds to the ambience (of what, you don’t really know yourself). The punching bag hanging in the corner of the room is definitely no cause for concern. Maybe he’d think that you’re really into exercise. All that’s left is for Spiderman to get caught in your perfect trap. You’re pretty sure he won’t get hurt in the process.

The only thing left now is to wait. You head out into the front of the store, waving Spiderman over as soon as you see him enter. He follows with a skip in his step, only to slow down when you guide him into the storeroom.

“Uh…This is new, even for me.” He comments, looking around at the stacked boxes and metal shelves, unsure of what to make of this sudden change in vibe. You gesture at the chair, closing the door behind you.

“Sorry, I just needed a place away from prying eyes.” You sigh, discreetly watching him take a seat. He does so without hesitation, and you immediately grab the end of the string that’s hooked onto the metal shelf, using all of your strength (and the help of a pulley) to yank it.

Spiderman yelps, dangling from the ceiling by a tightly secured string around his ankle. “What the-? You said you needed help!”

“And I do!” You reply, a tinge of desperation in your words. “Just…just hang on.” You breathe out, taking the frying pan on the shelf next to you after securing the string and leaving him dangling still. You approach him, Spiderman failing to notice, too preoccupied with trying to escape.

“Michael better be right about this,” You mumble under your breath, taking a quick swing and hitting the spot on his head that Michael promised would knock anyone out instantly. Spiderman’s eyes close, his cry of protest cut off as his hands fall limply to his sides.

“Oh.” You stare down at him, squatting down and reaching your hand out to gently massage the spot where you hit him with a guilty smile. You hadn’t expected it to actually work. “Sorry, Morales. My goals aren’t to harm you, promise.”

Standing back up with a wince, you can feel the joints in your body popping from the sudden stretch. You never really bothered with exercise, categorizing your sketching and painting as such.

You huff, grabbing his arms and pulling him across the room after untying him from the string around his ankle. “But one of them might be to start working out,” You say through gritted teeth, finally reaching the punching bag. You take a deep breath, doing your best to pick him up and hold him against it while you tie him up.

“No-” Your muffled cry is cut short when your arms give out, and you fall onto your back with the unconscious hero lying on top of you. You groan, pushing him off you, eyeing the punching bag with distaste.

Another repeated attempt ends in the same result, and your back starts to ache from the impact of the hard surface against your back. You see him starting to stir, your eyes widening in panic, instinctively grabbing the frying pan and hitting him again. He falls back to the floor with a hushed groan while you breathe a sigh of relief.

You stand back up, eyeing the punching bag, before an idea hits you.

Finally, you sit in the chair in front of the punching bag, taking out your sketchbook from the bag you'd placed on one of the shelves this afternoon and beginning to sketch him leisurely. You spot him slowly blinking, regaining his consciousness as he realises that he’s tied up.

"So..." You drawl, leaning back in your seat with a lazy grin. The city's local hero, Spiderman, dangles upside down in your trap. You actually did it. You got him to stay put.

He struggles to get free from the tightly bound ropes, almost tugging off his mask in the process before giving up seconds after. “Not again…” You hear him groan in defeat, looking back up at you with a deadpan stare.

"I have to admit, I love the new suit." You comment, grabbing a pencil and doing a quick sketch, ignoring his earlier words.

"What do you want from me?"

You pause, looking up from your sketchbook. "You sound pretty young to be a hero." You purse your lips, trying to guess his age.

"W-what? No, I don't." His voice turns gruff, and you chuckle from how obvious he was forcing it to be.

"I don't really want much. Just to draw you is all." You hum, flipping a page and letting pencil meet paper.

"What?"

You don't respond, eyes trained on sketching the dimensions of his midnight black suit. "I like the spray paint."

"Thanks," He's surprised by your comment, hands still furiously working to free himself.

"Aren't you a villain?" He questions, unable to hold back his curiosity. You weren't really doing anything to him either, not like the muggers or robbers that roam the streets at night.

You were just... drawing him.

"I just thought the suit was cool." You respond simply with a shrug, looking straight at the white material on his mask that hides his eyes.

He flinches, surprised by the sudden eye contact. "And you trapped me because...?"

"I wanted to draw it."

"You could've just asked."

"I tried. You weren't really paying attention, or you weren’t available. Hero duties and all, remember? "

Now that you mentioned it, the hero does remember you from the mugging and the excuses he’d made, shrugging sheepishly in response.

"Oh. My bad."

The corner of your lips tugs upwards into a slight smile. At least he has the common decency to admit it.

"Could you untie me, though? It's getting a little uncomfortable." He voices out, fingers still trying to wriggle free.

"Sure, but I'll need something in exchange."

He sighs. Of course, you did. People always wanted something from him as Spiderman, be it a photo or to gain clout.

"What is it?" He's wary now.

You grin, hands closing the sketchbook with a loud snap as you place your pencil on your chair, getting up.

"That's easy," You walk towards him with ease, eyes filled with certainty. You're inches away from his upside-down figure, leaning in slightly until your lips are next to where his ear would be under the mask.

"Be my model, Miles Morales.”

He stills at the mention of his name. “Wh-what? I don’t know who this Miles guy is, but I’m obviously not him.” He laughs nervously, shaking his head.

You can practically see the waves of panic flooding through his mind. “You just changed the pitch of your voice,” You point out casually instead, leaning back against the wall with a smirk, your hands in your pockets.

“I’m telling you, I’m not this Miles guy you think I am. Though I’m very sure he may be cool enough to be Spiderman, I am not him.” He almost trips over his words, flinching when you move your hand close to his mask.

“Then I guess you won’t mind if I take this off?” You hum, spotting him trying to use his electric powers to break free. “Don’t bother. The strings are made out of insulated material.”

He flinches away from your fingers brushing against the side of his face, his eyes meeting yours and knowing he’s already lost this battle. “Fine.” He surrenders, his eyes narrowed into a hostile glare directed at you.

“Don’t be like that,” You chide, sitting cross-legged in front of him with a disapproving shake of your head. “Besides, I’m just here to make a deal with you.”

“Is this about the model thing?”

“Yeap,” You confirm, popping the ‘p’. “Here’s all I’m asking. Let me meet up with you twice a week. I’ll even pay you ten bucks per session. All you gotta do is sit there.” The intensity of his glare lessens somewhat, though you can still sense his wariness. Makes sense, though, considering you’ve just essentially ensured he can’t say no. Besides, your terms and conditions aren’t half bad either.

You wait patiently for his response, giving him time to mull over it.

“Deal. Now let me go.”

“Uh-uh, not just yet,” You tut, moving over to your bag, grabbing the makeshift contract you drafted last night, and showing it to him with a triumphant grin. “I even added two different lines for both of your signatures. Spiderman’s and Miles Morales.”

He rolls his eyes, and you take that as a good sign, cutting him loose. He falls gracefully to the floor, landing in a perfect superhero pose. You applaud, giving yourself a mental pat on the back for staying calm throughout the entire exchange. He takes the pen you hand to him, scrawling his name on the dotted line. You smile widely and keep the contract back in your bag, practically on cloud nine with this accomplishment.

Unfortunately, the euphoria makes you forget you’re still in a cramped storeroom.

Wincing when your elbow knocks against a loosely stacked box, you and Spiderman watch it slowly topple on its side, landing on the floor with a loud bang before looking at each other with wide eyes.

Okay, so maybe you don’t got this as much as you thought.

You freeze when the door opens, looking behind you to see Mr Perez with his hand on the doorknob. His eyes flit from you to Spiderman, his gaze settling on the open box on the ground with vegetables spilling out of it before looking back at you with furrowed brows.

As soon as your eyes meet, you smile sheepishly.

“I’ll babysit on Friday.”

— — — — — — —

taglist: (definitely not because I forgot I said I'd tag people lol)

@oh-kurva @brunnetteiwik @queerponcho @sleepingnova @1theestallionyas

#spiderman: into the spiderverse #Into The Spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #into the spiderverse x reader #spiderman: into the spiderverse x reader

554 notes · View notes

cactuscoolerr · 1 year

Text

⋆｡˚. nagi seishiro - needy!nagi

nagi being needy :((

i can definitely see nagi with the prettiest dick. like no doubt in my mind. like ok yeah he’s average girth but like his length is mind blowing. his cock is a pretty color too, but the tip is almost always the prettiest and deepest shade of red bc of how he neglects himself of his needs. it’s not like it’s some weird kink or anything either, he just thinks it’s bothersome- like everything else LOL he hates the mess, he hates the effort it takes to cum, and most of all, he hates that there isn’t someone there to do it for him.

and because he neglects himself, he ends up just jerking himself off at like 1:00 pm on a random thursday LOLOL like no matter how hard he tried, he just can’t take it anymore.

nagi pulls down his sweats and boxers just beneath his balls, deciding that it’s way too much to take them off completely. with a heavy sigh, he wraps his hand around his cock, giving a few experimental pumps until he breaths out a relieving sigh. maybe it wasn’t so bothersome after all..

that is until it takes forever for him to cum. he’ll indulge in his needs a few minutes longer, deciding that if he didn’t cum in that time, he’d stop altogether and play on his switch- it didn’t really matter.

nagi allows for his eyes to fall closed as he continues his movement around his cock. he let out a series of whines and moans at the particular good tugs, but other than that, his apartment was full of breathy ‘please’s. nagi allowed for his mind to wander as he got closer to his climax. he thought of the porn magazines bachira pulled out of thin air while they were at practice. and then he thought of the porn he watched just last night out of curiosity. he focused on the moaning he heard from the video, figuring that if he had someone bouncing on his cock instead, he wouldn’t feel so frustrated while masturbating. his mind then wandered to reo, his best friend. he figured that if reo was over at his apartment, he’d already be between nagi’s thighs to relieve him. he knew that reo would be more than happy to jerk him off while scolding him about neglecting his sexual needs. nagi would of course zone out with the feeling of reo’s callous hands stroking his cock. maybe if nagi’s cum painted his best friends face, the nagging reo would finally shut up.

but then he thought of you. the pretty girl in his lesson that laughed at the things he said, even though nagi hadn’t meant for it to come out as a joke. he thought of his hand being your own. your pretty manicured nails and your small hand prettily wrapped around his pretty cock. a shudder ran through his body as he felt his dick pulsing in his hand. he couldn’t help but think of you looking up at him with pretty doe eyes as your lips wrapped around his cock. and finally, nagi came. white cum spurted from his cock as nagi continued to lazily pump himself to ride out his high. after he finally calmed down, nagi allowed for himself to look at the mess, sighing deeply at the cum covering his stomach and hand, and his couch.

“ah, i made a mess. how bothersome”

#bllk #blue lock #blue lock x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi smut #nagi seishiro smut #bllk headcanons

673 notes · View notes

l3viat8an · 1 year

Text

nsfw content MDNI (repost)

I still laugh a bit when I read the “bitch make a sound” lolol

Lucifer

I hc that he’s pretty quite in bed too, but he's always loves to fill in the quiet with lots of soft praise, degrading or both! Depending on what you're into~

Lucifer knows your body and how you react! He doesn't need you to be loud to know what makes you feel good and what makes you cum~

"Just relax and let me take care of you~”

Mammon

Loud boy! Mammon, makes enough noise for both of you-

Anywhere from high-ish moans and whines all the way to deep groans right in your ear~

But don't think that means the slight hitches of your breath and gasps go unnoticed, they don't! They just fuel his ego~ "Awww, am I makin' ya feel that good darlin’~?“

Levi

Obviously doesn’t care!

Buttttt Levi needs reassurance, like a lot of it! Since you don't moan, he needs you to tell him what feels good, he also asks a lot "Is t-this good? Should I move slow/faster? I can-“ “S'fine, Levi, feels g-good" "Good, just uhh checking..." after, awhile tho he'll get a little, more confident in what makes you feel good and won't ask everytime.

Satan

He likes to reassure you! "You, don't have to make noises it's just not in your nature. There's nothing wrong with that."

Since you don't make noise, he watches your body language, seeing exactly how you react and making mental notes. Satan also makes eye contact a lot while you two have sex~ "You're voice may be quiet, but your eyes are loud~ They show me just how good I'm making you feel~"

Asmo

He doesn't care at all! He knows he's skilled 'n he knows, he can pleasure you like no one else could!

No matter how quite you are~ you might not be loud, but your body is so responsive~ he knows where to touch to make you gasp.

And he adores the moments he makes you whine 'n gasp because he knows that means he's done well~ "Oh~? Did I find another sweet spot~”

Beel

Sweet boy, would probably be worries that you weren't enjoying it so please explain it to him, after you do he just looks relieved "Oh, I thought you did like it..." but after you've explained it he's fine and completely understanding!

One time, he was making you cum and he noticed how your body reacts instead, his eyes watching intently as you shudder at the pleasure and your eyes roll back and the way your mouth hangs open in a silent moan, "Heh, so cute~”

Belphie

Honestly likes that you're quiet, but also takes it as a challenge, he wants to get one little moan out of you at some point, just to feel like he did something no one else ever could! "Come, on tell me how good I'm making you feel~"

He's also not the loudest in bed, more soft moans and grunts so he picks up any sound(s) you do make and smirks~

871 notes · View notes

ghost-1-y · 7 months

Text

you're beautiful

pairing: obanai x reader

content warnings: MDNI, slight manga spoilers (what's under obanai's bandages), sexual content, penetrative sex (m! receiving), pegging, sub!Obanai x dom!reader, reader is female-coded, praise k!nk, body worship(?) idk y’all it’s intimate

a/n: a lil kinktober drabble for y'all bc i felt like it! kind of was inspired by @/xxsabitoxx's "kinktober side quests" but also my brain has just been filled with obanai brainrot recently and i needed to do something about it; this is how i actually hc obanai (as a subby baby rather than a dom like he is in "Depths" hehe) (also y'all can thank @crazycatlddy for filling my head with obanai brainrot)

divider credit: the beautiful @/benkeibear (apparently this is the color theme i'm going with for obanai, just kinda took it and ran with it lolol)

“Mmph– please,” Obanai whimpered against the sheets, his clothes and face bandages long forgotten on the bedroom floor, face pressed into the mattress and ass sticking up in the air as you sunk your strap into him.

He was such a pretty sight, his milky skin glowing in the moonlight that softly shined through the window, hair scattered and messy as it spread across his face. You leaned down to brush his hair back and gather it around the back of his neck, leaving soft kisses along his cheek before trailing down to his jaw.

“Such a pretty boy for me,” you whispered hotly into his ear, “don’t you think so, baby?”

Obanai shuddered, he was not quite comfortable yet with his looks, yet the way you spoke to him – how gentle and soft your voice was, made him want to believe every single word that dripped out of your honeyed mouth.

You received a small moan in return, causing you to smile against his neck as you slowly fucked into him – he had learned to take your strap so well, and you loved watching him squirm as little mewls bubbled up from his throat.

“M-More–” he asked, his voice quiet. You hummed as you started to move your hips back and forth, slowly fucking moan after moan out of his sweet mouth.

You wished he could see the beauty of it. You, bent over his small form, knees digging into the mattress as your skin pressed flush against his back, reaching your arm up towards his face to softly brush the scars that lined his mouth with the pad of your thumb. Obanai tensed, but soon relaxed into your touch, his eyes closing as you gently traced the rough patches of skin.

“I love you,” you whispered, “and that means all of you – including what you may not love about yourself. I still find you beautiful.”

Tears prickled in his eyes, his heart aching from the sweet words that graced his ears, but he didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as you picked up the pace between thrusts, causing his mind to nearly go blank as you fucked deeply into his tight hole.

The walls rang with the soft sound of Obanai’s whines, drool seeping out of his mouth and pooling onto the sheets beneath. His eyes rolled back as you thrust into his prostate, sparks of pleasure floating through him as tension built up in his gut. With a strangled moan, his orgasm ripped through him, his cock spurting out his release and dirtying the linen beneath.

You pulled out of him, only to leave kisses along his back – starting between his shoulder blades and moving down along his spine.

And for once, Obanai felt beautiful.

#demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kny smut #obanai smut #iguro obanai x you #iguro obanai smut #iguro obanai x reader #iguro obanai #obanai iguro smut #obanai iguro #obanai x reader #kny obanai #obanai x you #obanai x y/n #demon slayer headcanons #kny headcanons #demon slayer smut

275 notes · View notes

floralcyanide · 7 months

Text

˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―

― day two ⛧ nipple play

Jonathan Crane x Reader

In which Jonathan is submissive for you and only you.

warnings: smut, nipple play, nipple stimulation/overstimulation, overstimulation, cum eating, unprotected sex, penetrative sex

word count: 837

author's note: welcome to day two!! this one was fun to write and definitely sent the discord over the edge lolol. I love sub!crane tbh so yeah. hehe. enjoy (:

kinktober masterpost | kinktober taglist form | main masterlist | main taglist form

Despite Jonathan’s cold exterior that he puts on for everyone in the world, he has a soft spot for you. He’d do anything for you, including letting you have leverage over him sexually. Jonathan is usually the dominant one, but he’s a true switch at heart. He’s never trusted anyone enough to sub for them until he met you. So here Jonathan is, lying on your bed in your apartment, with the lit candles on the bedside tables being the only light source in the room. The flames' shadows flicker upon Jonathan’s face. You have removed his glasses and pants so you can see his handsome face and lovely hips in full view. You have Jonathan flat on his back with his head supported by pillows as you slowly unbutton his white shirt, kissing along his jaw. You brush your hands on his warm chest under the shirt, pushing it open.

“Is Jonathan going to be a good boy for me?” you ask, sitting up on his lap.

Jonathan nods his head vigorously, wishing for nothing more than your touch. You lean down again, leaving wet kisses on Jonathan’s neck and down to his collarbone. You run your tongue over his peck until you reach his nipple, where you circle around it with the tip of your tongue slowly. Jonathan shudders, goosebumps scattering across his skin at the feeling. You drag your tongue across his chest to the other bud, doing the same to it. You begin to suck on the hardening nipple, pressing your clothed core down on Jonathan’s slowly growing bulge. He lets out a whimper as you graze your teeth on his sensitive skin. You switch back over to the other peck, biting it softly as you’re lightly pinching the one you just had your mouth on previously.

“You’re doing so well keeping your hands to yourself,” you pull off the little bundle of nerves, noticing how Jonathan gripped the sheets.

You continue to lap and bite at his nipples, twisting and pulling them until they’re red and angry. Jonathan is now squirming underneath you, making your clit rub against his growing length just right. Stripping yourself of your shirt and discarding it, you hastily remove your bra, tossing it to the floor. You lean down and let your breasts kiss Jonathan’s chest, your own nipples barely making contact with his. You drag your chest against his directly, a moan escaping both of you at the friction. Holding your breasts steady, you circle Jonathan’s nipples with yours, both your chests sensitive from the amount of teasing or lack thereof. Jonathan groans, bucking his hips into yours. You start grinding on him as you push your breasts into his chest, your hardened buds pressing against each other deliciously. As you grind your cunt on his covered cock, your nipples grind, too, causing you to squeal at the sensation.

“Does it feel good, baby?” you bite your lip as you stare at Jonathan, lust making your eyes heavy.

Jonathan is still gripping the sheets, “Yes,” he moans breathily.

You let your hard clit roll over Jonathan’s clothed and leaking tip. The feeling makes you hastily pull your and his underwear down enough for you to make direct contact. You move your hips forward, letting your bundle of nerves swipe against Jonathan’s angry tip, his precum lubricating you perfectly. Picking up your pace, you sit up and squeeze your own breasts, urging Jonathan to play with his nipples. He hesitantly lets go of the sheets, letting his fingers pinch at his buds as he lets out a satisfying moan, his hips thrusting into yours.

“Fuck,” Jonathan mutters, “So sensitive.”

“Good,” you smirk, letting your wet, pulsing cunt drag along his length repeatedly.

Jonathan throws his head back, and his body shakes from all the stimulation.

“Are you gonna cum, Jonny?” you tease, swiveling your hips.

“Mhmm,” he whines.

“Cum all over your stomach, pretty boy.”

One particularly rough movement of your hips sends Jonathan spiraling into his release. Hot spurts of cum cover his stomach as his chest heaves from the exertion. You keep grinding yourself against him until you finally cum, your arousal coating his length. You lean down and lick his stomach clean and suck off your juices from his sensitive cock, relishing in the whimper that leaves Jonathan’s mouth at the overstimulation.

“You did good,” you praise Jonathan, running a hand over his hair.

He keens into your touch, an exhausted yet satisfied sigh escaping his lips.

The next day, Jonathan’s nipples are incredibly sensitive. So much so that he has to wear an undershirt underneath his button-up so they don’t keep brushing against the fabric. You suggested some Vaseline for the discomfort, trying your best not to laugh at his disgruntled noises while he was getting dressed that morning. As it’s been said, Jonathan would do anything for you, including walking around all day with sore nipples. At least it’s a constant reminder of the undying pleasure he was given the night before.

taglist:

@cillianswifefr @nothingherewhatsoever @ins0mniac-whack @multifans-things @mypoisonedvine @madnessandobsession @tiredkitten @lolabunny222 @gimmefood @thecherrycocktail @thequeenoftheisleofavalon @silas703 @scarlettlight06 @Gramelda @burnyouwithacigarettelighter @dunklerkeks1611 @reggxe-a @aviamulier @dorknerdbeautiful @scribbuluswrites @ecstaticforus @vampireluck @doitmour1r @desert-springtime @tuffy-floral @hllywdwhre @moompie @langdons-slut @cillymyfavdilf @pplanetoparis @generalvoidthing @luna047 @mg-i-have-issues @darlingsfandom @devotedly-sassy @banshailey @notevenellastein @cillsmurphys @ch3rry-co1a @elegantfacetree @ilikefictionalmen @juleshadalittlelamb @sweatymuffinweasellamp @pheonist @rubydubytuby @madnessandobsession @ceirinen @treac @Vrfilms @cillian-murph @sstar_ggirl @ecstaticforus @flwrs4aust

(if you signed up to be on the taglist and do not see your name, your tag failed or you may have typed the wrong url.)

297 notes · View notes

poptartkingsworld · 2 years

Text

Vibrators ⁉️ (Lucifer x afab!gn!reader SMUT)

Drunk posting lolol 1 glass of fermet and 2 glasses of wine let's go

Cw; afab reader, gn reader, pussyjob ♡, Lucifer can be a softie in bed sometimes and I stand by that

At first, Lucifer didn't get it. Why would you want him to keep a buzzing piece of plastic on you to cum when that's what his cock is for.

Until he saw how easy it was to break you while keeping that silly toy on your clit, seeing how you squirmed and cried, he finally understood.

"Keep still for me," Lucifer whispered in your ear, the room only filling with your whimpers and the muffled buzzing of the bullet vibrator Lucifer kept against your clit. You kept grasping at the sheets as you felt an almost agonizing burn buzz through you, flowing through your pussy and down your thighs to the rest of your legs. Your thighs shook, Lucifer easily holding them close, to keep your back against his chest while his hard cock rested against your pussy under you. Lucifer then wordlessly switched the intensity of the vibrator, the buzzing so loud against your poor clit. You cried out and squirmed, arching your back as you felt the knot build up quickly in the pit of your stomach.

You cried out for Lucifer, who licked his lips at the sight of your bright red abused clit that vibrated with the toy in his hand. One of your hands reached up and behind to hold the back of his head, and yank on his hair while the other grabbed his wrist. A silent plea to give you a break before you felt like splitting in two. Lucifer kissed your neck, smiling against your skin as he felt your entire body jolting at the warmth of his lips.

"Cum for me, my pet...I know you can be good to me, go ahead." He whispered, you breathed heavily as you tightened your grip on both his hair and his wrist, your legs tensing before you threw your head back and saw stars. Your cum flowing onto Lucifer's cock, which twitched deliciously at the warmth, and onto the sheets. Tears started forming in your eyes as Lucifer kept the vibrator on you, your eyes were wide in panic. Was this demon seriously trying to make you pass out ???

You pull his wrist away, Lucifer finding the mercy within himself to let you. You panted as your legs quivered, your grip on the demon's scalp loosening. Lucifer turned off the vibrator and tossed it aside as he held both of your shaky thighs up, rubbing his now wet cock between your folds. Lucifer shuddered a moan as he felt your pussy throb and twitch against his cock. The tip momentarily catching your pulsing clit, making your jump with a gasp. Lucifer could only chuckle at your reaction while he continued to use your pussy to grind against, your hips lifting at times for the tip of his cock to drag against your sensitive clit again..and again......and,,

You could feel another orgasm build up as Lucifer grunted in your ear, telling you how good and wet you feel, how you're so good for him, to cum for him again. You reached down to push his cock against your pussy, grinding down hard to reach your high. Lucifer then lifted your hips, letting his cock abruptly slip into you. The sudden feeling of being filled to the brim made you moan Lucifer's name and cum hard on his cock. Lucifer groaned against your neck at the sudden tightness, a few pumps into your sloppy pussy had him spilling his cum into you already. You laid your head back against his shoulder, a low moan escaped your lips feeling how warm demon cum is inside you. Lucifer gently pulled out, both of your fluids spilling onto the sheets. Lucifer pressed his forehead against the side of your head with a satisfied smile and a low hum in his throat. This demon was surely head over heels for you.

My arm fell asleep 3 times while writing this i need to sleep and sober up *^*

#obey me x male reader #obey me #obey me lucifer x male reader #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me x male reader smut #obey me x reader smut #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x gender neutral reader smut

1K notes · View notes

pariahsparadise · 2 years

Text

stay | w. b.

nav. | m.list

request: could you write any fluff with will byers hehe

word count: 0.8k

author’s note: absolutely i can. but it will definitely have undertones of angst lolol. i wrote this really fast and it's so short, i'm sorry. i finished vol 1. the day it came out so stranger things has totally infested my mind. dw tho, THIS FIC DOES NOT HAVE STRANGER THINGS 4 SPOILERS!

pairings: will byers x gn!reader

warnings: uh will has a nightmare? not proofread. it's angsty but mostly fluff. i think

The gasps were what roused you from your spot on the floor.

You sat up straight, heart beating wildly at the sound of a distant scream, but one you managed to place immediately. Will. It took a beat for you to adjust to your surroundings before you remembered that you were in California, visiting your friend. Currently, you were in the Byers’ living room, sleeping on a mattress because you refused to let Will give up his own bed.

Stumbling to your feet, you tried to make your way towards his room, the lack of light confusing you even more, as you were already in an unfamiliar setting, but you found your way there. Groping around for the door handle, you pushed the door open and walked in.

Your heart stuttered at the sight in front of you, Byers caught in a state between sleep and consciousness, thrashing around in his own bed. His blanket was strewn on the floor, his legs flinching in a way that told you that he must have kicked it off. His breaths were unnaturally fast and his eyelids fluttered, each twitch dragging a cut along your own heart. Dropping to your knees at the side of his head, you reached for his shoulders, gently but firmly shaking him awake.

“Will, hey, Will? Wake up, it’s just a nightmare, wake up please.” You shook him harder and he startled, hands shooting out to grab a hold of you. His eyes wild and distraught, they ran over your face a few times before recognition kicked in, and his grip on you relaxed. His shoulders still shuddering, he half dragged you onto the bed, and you let him drape your frame over his, his head finding solace in the place where your shoulder met your neck.

You could feel his warm breaths against your skin, still oddly paced, so you moved your hand to smooth over his back soothingly. “It was just a nightmare,” you reassured Will softly, thumb tracing circles over his nightshirt, “You’re safe now.”

“Right,” he murmured into your skin, and you shifted a little so your legs tangled together. Normally, the proximity between you two would have you blushing, but the only thing mattered to you at the moment was the welfare of your friend.

You kept murmuring kind affirmations to Will, some of which you weren’t sure were exactly true, but you wished you could make them so. The two of you lapsed into a quiet, uneasy silence, before you broke it, having to say something.

“You didn’t tell me you were still having nightmares.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Will said, pulling away from your neck so his words were clear. You couldn’t help but yearn for him to return, to feel the accidental brush of his hot lips on your skin when he spoke, but there was no time for that right now.

“So you lied?”

“I didn’t lie, exactly-”

“It was a lie by omission and you know it, Byers.”

He sighed quietly, the pads of his fingers gently sweeping from your shoulder to your hand, the movement rendering you speechless. What were you even talking about, again?

“I’m sorry,” you distantly heard Will say, but you couldn’t focus on it, because his treacherous, tantalising hand was making its journey back up your arm.

In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

The thought freaked you out, and you scrambled out of his arms, feet finding the awaiting cold floor with a grimace.

“Right, okay, I forgive you,” you stumbled over the words, hating yourself, because how could you even think about making a move on your friend, especially after an episode of such emotional distress? It was a manipulative, nasty thing to even consider, and you wanted to get out of his sight, “I’m going to go back to bed, then. Sorry.”

“Wait, no, what?” You heard a rustle, and then felt Will’s hand on your wrist, holding you back. “Stay, please.”

You shook your head no, and Will’s frown deepened, his hand tugging you gently to the bed again. “Stay,” he repeated, firmer this time.

Your mind raced through potential excuses, settling on the first one that seemed most plausible. “Joyce,” you blurted, “Joyce wouldn’t be okay with us sharing the bed. Right?”

“Nonsense,” Will shot you down immediately, “She actually hates that you’re sleeping on the floor, makes her feel bad. She’d be fine. Unless,” he said, and you could see the anxiety growing in his eyes, “Unless it’s you who wouldn’t be fine with sharing. I’m sorry, you can go. I’m sorry I woke you up, it-”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you spoke up immediately, “So quit apologising. It’s fine, really.”

“So you’ll stay, then?” he said, flashing you a small smile, and just like that, you were a goner.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, imprinting the image of his growing smile into your brain, “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

2K notes · View notes

imrllytootiredforthis · 1 year

Note

for some reason i wanna take it slow w tyun

nothing extreme and rough just being gentle w each other, praising him just to see his adorable smile☹️ he's so desperate for your touch that he'd start begging for it😞😞(it'd be hard to let go of his pride but he'd still do it lolol)

HOWEVER OMG

so i was thinking about...fucking him right before the concert 🫣🫣like in some abandoned closet room or something like that,,, he'd be so impatient and needy, telling you to be faster since he has to be on stage really soon:(( and so you tugging on his blueish hair got him cumming so hard he could barely hold his whimpers:((

p.s. i miss u already 😥come back soon ❣️

i missed you toooo<3333, sadly i'm not fully back, i'll be trying to answer some asks here and there but i'm still gonna be pretty busy over the next while😞😞

but that's not important, cuz that blue hair rlly got him on my mind rnnn

before a concertttt, like holy shit, how does your brain come up with the best ideas😫????

---

there's about twenty minutes before the boys are supposed to be onstage so you decide to go wish your tae some...good luck,

popping your head into his dressing room where the makeup artist is making him all pretty, dusting some blush over his cheekbones, scolding him to sit still when he squirms from seeing you in the mirror.

"hey tae,"

"hi," he brushes a hand at the artist, pushing her away lightly without any force, eyes stuck on you all while a smile curls at your lips. "y-you can go now."

"but-" they look at you, then back at taehyun before quickly making up their mind and packing up their stuff to get out of there as soon as they possibly can

and when the ten minutes until they're supposed to be onstage announcement is made,

through the door of his dressing room, asking him of he needs any last minute touching up or anything

well, he's not very ready

because all the while your hand covers his mouth to keep any noises from slipping out, your other down the front of his pants, not even pulled down in your haste

he whines when they leave and you uncover his mouth, bucking up into your touch, face sinfully, delectably red as he tries not to drool or cry and mess up his pretty makeup

"f-faster, please, i need to be on stage soon~" he moans, pawing at your wrist in an effort to do exactly that

you simply slap his wrist away, nipping at the shell of his ear. "i say how fast-you got that? have patience."

he whimpers but nods, eyes falling shut, trying not to scream when you speed up

"five minutes! hurry up!"

he pants, heavy broken gasps, mewling in hopes of enticing you to go faster. "y-y/n, please, i n-need to g-go~"

you stay stubborn to his pleas, hushing him in his ear, licking up the side of his neck

"p-please," he sobs,

your hand comes up, forcing his head up by his pretty blueish hair that you can't seem to get enough of. "don't be gree-"

he shudders, a high-pitched moan, too loud for where you currently are slips from his lips as his back arches, pushing himself into your hand. his eyes roll into the back of his head and he swears he can see stars

and when he finally comes out of it, heaving and sweating and looking at what a mess he is in the mirror, getting simultaniously more turned on and a panicked wreck because holy shit-

"did you just cum?" you whisper

he swallows thickly with a nod, shutting his eyes.

panicked because from where he is in your arms, he can see the time, and you just gave him a mind-blowing, unrecoverable orgasm exactly two minutes before he was supposed to be onstage

lol, sorry this isn't very good, i'm kinda tired but i needed to reply to this one😫😫

#inbox💌#blue hair tae✊#sub taehyun #taehyun smut #txt smut #sub txt #txt hard thoughts #hard thoughts #taehyun x reader #d7dream<3

176 notes · View notes

captain039 · 6 months

Text

PART 2 Devil in training

Raphael x devil!reader

Warnings: age gap, swearing, devil things, tension, sexual, possessiveness, smut, teasing, jealousy, brat reader, 18+, self touching, self exploring, reader has just been made, but is an adult and knows stuff lolol, innocent reader

Previous part <-

His hand gently ran across your back, his hand warm and leaving goosebumps as he went before a knock came. You jolted while he chuckled darkly.

“Our first customer” he said saying a ‘come in’ while you went to scramble off his lap. He was quicker than you and kept his arm around your waist smirking as the man came in. An elf by his pointed ears, you felt an odd sensation seeing his soul it was darkened by something he had done.

“Apologies, is this a bad time?” He asked nervously and Raphael shook his head while you studied the elf.

“What is you see little mouse?” He asked you as you frowned.

“His soul” you said the man gasping slightly.

“Darkened isn’t it?” Raphael said and you nodded.

“Why have you come oh mortal?” Raphael asked as you continued to study.

“I’ve done something I need clearing” he said as you shifted in Raphael’s lap, back to his chest as you sat on his thigh. His arm was still securely around your waist as you prodded into the elfs mind without him knowing.

“What has he done?” Raphael asked you as you saw him killing a woman, his wife.

“Killed his wife” you said a glare on your face.

“Why did you kill her? She had no reason to die” you fought.

“She slept with another man!” The elf explained.

“No she didn’t” you stated and he froze.

“You accused her because you were to insecure” you snapped anger boiling inside you.

“Seems you’ve upset my mouse” Raphael commented.

“Kill him” his voice echoed in your mind.

“We won’t help you” you said sensing Raphael’s surprise.

“Live with what you’ve done” you said scaring the man out the room.

“Well done” Raphael chuckled and you felt pride boil from the compliment.

“You could’ve killed him easily” he stated.

“Would’ve been easy” you muttered leaning back into him arms crossing over your chest.

“You deserve a reward little mouse” he chuckled and you felt your body grow hot.

“It wasn’t anything” you said trying to hide the way your cheeks burned.

“I don’t like mortals” you grumbled and he laughed.

“Based off of one elf?” He chuckled and you pouted feeling his hand spread across your stomach.

“Trust me, mortals can be quite entertaining” he whispered by your ear making you shudder briefly.

You watched as he made a few deals, he was true about his word, mortals were entertaining, selling their souls for something so stupid. You watched and learned, having left his lap long ago as you wandered the room. It smelt of roses and sulphur, petals over the floor and sleek rosewood furniture around the room with a large bed in the middle. You wanted to jump on the bed and sag into it, you wondered if it would be as comfortable as your one at home. The outside world had darkened and one last customer came in, he stank of wine, his soul tainted like the rest.

“Greetings, should you really be here? I like my clients sober” Raphael sneered as the drunkard grinned looking directly at you.

“I thought it just rumours” he laughed as you felt yourself shrink a bit at his intense stare.

“I want to make a deal” he turned to Raphael, but kept his eyes on you.

“I want her” he giggled pointing to you and your rage flared, you wished you were in your devil form, send him running out the door.

“She is not for sale” Raphael’s voice was low and warning, but the drunkard pressed.

“Why she here with you? You never have girls up here!” He said as you moved more to Raphael’s side, going behind him almost.

“Because she’s mine” The way his voice went deadly made shivers go up his spine as hellfire engulfed him and his devil form replaced him.

“Get out” he sneered and the drunkard ran in fear making you smirk slightly. You felt his hell fire heat, you swore you felt his rage also. You hesitated, but moved to stand in front him, his eyes instantly snapping to yours as you cupped his face. You never really got to touch him besides today when you sat upon his lap. The devil frowned at you as you gently stroked his cheek. You leant up and pressed your lips to his the devil growling in response, you did what felt right. His clawed hand grabbed your waist and tugged you closer, his hot lips pressing into yours harder as his nails dug into your flesh. Your body’s went flush together and your warmth radiated the room as you pulled apart.

“You’re playing a dangerous game” he said eyes still on you.

“Am I?” you asked tilting your head as he smirked.

#Raphael x reader #devil reader #cambion reader #x reader #bg3 #Raphael bg3

90 notes · View notes

aestheteanime · 2 years

Text

“take me”

synopsis: choso would give you the world if he could, but unfortunately that's an impossible feat for almost anyone... so he'll give you his v-card instead.

pairing: kamo choso x f. reader

cw: virgin!choso, basically porn with no plot, thigh riding, tiddie sucking lolol, fingering, cervix fucking (just a little), unprotected sex

word count: 2.0k

nsfw 18+

kamo choso is a virgin. a bumbling, anxious virgin. despite being over 150 years old, not only has he never fucked a pretty girl, but he's never even felt the touch of one.

and this shocks you, considering the fact that you're a whimpering mess grinding away on his thigh, juices soaking through your panties. each flex of the firm muscle has your core throbbing, aching for more friction. you can tell he's trying to contain himself, choked back gasps leaving his throat at the feeling of your clothed cunt rolling over him.

his head is thrown back, resting on the top of the couch as his hair messily sticks to the sides of his face. the heavy rise and fall of his chest is addictive to stare at, especially with how red and purple bruises line the expanse, bite marks and all.

choso attempts to hold back a whimper, breath caught in his throat when he shakily runs a hand through his hair. "c-can i touch you?" he lifts his head to look at you, lust clouding his eyes with eyebrows furrowed in desire.

you chuckle, reaching for one of his shaky, calloused hands, and bring it to your breast, cupping your hand over his as you lightly squeeze the muscle, just enough to introduce him to your idea. he's quick to get the message as he fumbles slightly to find the best way to hold it when you let go, thumb cascading over your hard nipple ever-so-slightly. but eventually, he's massaging the supple skin, too nervous to even attempt going under your shirt; but it's more than enough for him. his eyes are fixated on the way you feel between his fingers, and it's almost too humiliating to look at him. his gaze is intense, wide-eyed, and focused as you continue grinding against him. your movements pick up speed in an attempt to distract yourself from his staring before he lets out a drawn-out whine, nearly salivating at you practically using his body to get yourself off. "f-feel good?"

nodding your head you glide your hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders, breathing synchronizing with his. "can't cum like this, though," you sigh, fingers moving to the top of his head and curling through his hair.

and you pull him in, choso's lips pursing and eyes closed, ready to connect his lips with yours. but a kiss never comes, and he opens his eyes to meet your devilish smirk. lips brush against each other just barely as choso's lips frown in a pout, somewhat sulking. "you're so cute," you mumble affectionately, leg sliding across his waist to fully sit on his lap. an audible gasp leaves your throat at the newfound pressure pushing against you.

choso whimpers and your grip on his hair tightens as a response, softly pulling him toward your chest. he nearly shudders underneath you at the action, tongue lolling out and swiping against your shirt's fabric, eyes briefly meeting yours for consent before his lips attach to your nipple, sucking away sweetly.

without much of a reply on your end though, he's quick to make work with your top, hands sliding up your sides and lifting the material, lips curling into a smirk at your lack of a bra. how convenient, he thinks. his mouth finds its place back on your breast, gently sucking and licking the now bare, sensitive skin. choso's delicate fingers finally pry your shirt off completely, the remnants discarded on the floor behind you.

a string of saliva connects you both when choso pulls away. his eyes are black and hooded yet glossy as they gaze up at you; as if expecting you to make the next move, of which you happily oblige.

fingers fumble with the waistband of his pants, your mind too hazy and distracted by the way he feels underneath you to focus. his body is hot, burning your skin at every point of contact but it's just so intoxicating. the way his hips desperately grind up into you, trying to gain some type of stimulation to get himself off. the low, guttural groan he lets out when your fingers graze his cock sends heat shooting to your core. your clit throbs, almost painfully, as choso clumsily knocks your hands away from the hem of his bottoms, finally getting both his underwear and sweatpants off in one fell swoop.

your lips meet his jaw feverishly, peppering down his neck to just below his collarbone, tongue swiping against the skin before biting down gently, choso humming against you. his voice is heavenly, sultry and whiny, and oh-so-needy. and you think, for a second, about how you're the only one who's heard it, who gets to hear it. that thought alone only makes you want to hear him more, hear him louder.

he bucks up into you, cock rubbing perfectly against your clit as jolts of pleasure shoot down your spine. it feels as if you could orgasm from the sheer grinding alone. "w-want you, choso," you mumble, mouth pressed against his ear and arms wrapping around his shoulders. your body begins to move against his own, almost on impulse. "please?"

your desperate pleas make his balls ache which elicits another whine from his throat. how could he say no to such a pretty face? when you're asking so nicely, so sweetly. you've given him so much already, let him repay you—at least a little.

"mhmm, take me," he breathes, pupils dilated and heart-shaped as he stares down at you. “want you to have all of me.” you feel as if your lips have never moved quicker to press against his, sloppily colliding tongue and teeth with as much fervor as you can muster. he feels so delicate and malleable underneath your fingertips—like you could ask him for the world and he’d give it to you— yet so sure of himself that that's where he wants to be.

you break only momentarily for air before choso's lips are back on yours, tongue swiping against your own, as if he’s drunk on the way you taste, and hell, he’d be an alcoholic if it meant savoring you, kissing you like this. his hands roam your waist, thumbs circling your hips before sliding your panties aside, rough fingers slipping across your wet folds and nervously toying with your clit; pinching and rubbing the swollen bud. "c-cho," you murmur, a mix between a whine and a moan, leaving you. "just-just like that."

your praise makes his fingers move against you faster, moan after moan falling from your lips. "you're so wet," he lauds, nearly drooling at the way his fingers sink between your folds, glistening in your slick. "this all for me?"

his confidence is new, hands no longer shaking and words much more concrete, much more sure of himself. not that you would've minded that he was nervous anyway, but the change in demeanor makes your head spin— pleasure pooling between your thighs. you don't give him an answer to his rhetorical question though, too caught up in the way he massages your orgasm closer and closer.

hot waves of pleasure coil in your core, your back arching towards him and eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. your cunt clenches, a final shiver running down your spine and through your legs causing your toes to curl as his fingers prod against your entrance. air catches in your throat, breath becoming heavier and hotter as the throb of your cunt makes your heartbeat pick up speed, each thump of the muscle being felt in both your chest and core.

release washes over you so intensely you have to choke back a scream, choso's thumb continuing to rub messy circles around your achy clit and he swears he had orgasmed with you just from your reaction alone. he doesn’t have time to process his own situation though, your overstimulation setting in quickly, body jolting against his touch. "'s too much, baby," you slur, voice high and breathy. delicate fingers wrap around his wrist, slowing his movements to a stop as you gaze up at him through hooded lashes. "wanna cum on your cock."

choso nods his head, almost eagerly, before lifting your hips, letting you balance yourself on your knees to hover over his cock.

the shaft is curved and his tip is a soft pink, dripping with precum. you notice a thick vein running up the underside of his cock, and you have to restrain yourself from groaning out loud. "poor thing," you coo, eyebrows furrowed as your hand cups his cheek. "i could've helped you with this sooner."

"wanted you to cum at least once since—" a moan interrupts him at the feeling of you enveloping his tip, hips rocking back and forth slightly to get used to his girth. "since i don't know how long i'll be able to last inside you."

your eyes see white as you sink further down his cock, the size stretching you perfectly. "so sweet," your voice sounds like honey, melting down his body and straight to his dick. "you always take such good care of me." his ear twitches at your whisper, head fuzzy at how tight your walls squeeze him.

choso's sigh in response is cut short as his breathing picks up, airy moans jolting his body to thrust into your pretty little pussy. every push of his cock has the tip kissing your cervix, the feeling so good it nearly makes you delirious; intoxicated on the way it hits deep and rough.

his thrusts are smooth despite being sloppy, hips rolling against yours so effortlessly that you barely even have to move. choso lifting and slamming you down as he ruts up into you, grip firm on your hips, has you shuddering.

your hands search for something to hold onto, something to steady yourself from choso's unrelenting pace. so much for being an anxious virgin.

his touch is electrifying, yet your brain feels as if it's been short-circuited and you find yourself unable to move away. it’s like he's got you wrapped around his fingers, like you're possessed to listen to his every desire. and each bounce on his cock sends you deeper and deeper into his spell. a quiet chant of his name leaves your lips, practically worshipping the body that’s treating you like a goddess.

your head falls onto his shoulder, each moan falling on his ears like a choir's symphony. it's almost embarrassing, how loud you are for him. for someone who's never had his cock buried this deep—let alone at all— in someone, he sure knows how to get you soaked.

"'m close," he croons, hips slowing down slightly as exhaustion taking over. his eyebrows scrunch, a look of frustration painting his features as he finds the strength to pick his pace back up, chasing his high.

"y-yeah?" you try to sound assuring but it comes out a stutter, too stimulated to clearly comprehend anything. with a fuzzy mind, all you can think about is choso's cock. the way it stretches you, the way it kisses your cervix, the way his balls slap against your ass with each thrust.

and suddenly, choso's hips twitch with one last grind into you, the feeling of his hot, creamy cum filling your fluffy walls. the sight makes choso blush profusely, his hand covering his mouth to muffle a moan at the lewd sight of your puffy pussy lips wrapped around him. each heave of his chest vibrates his entire body, hands shaky as he helps gently lift you off him, careful not to hurt you.

his cock is coated in your mixed juices as he pulls out, a stuttered moan escaping his lips yet his eyes are quick to narrow in your direction at his sudden realization. "what?" you giggle dumbfoundedly, crawling toward him and cuddling into his side. a kiss to his nose makes his cheeks puff out, ears burning a bright red.

"i couldn't get you to cum again," he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you before pulling you to lay on top of him. “you wanted to cum on my cock.”

"it’s okay,” a soft smile adorns your features, “'m tired." yawning you bury your face into his chest, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his collarbone. he's warm, firm underneath you, yet soft and welcoming. with each inhale of his breath, you find yourself losing more and more consciousness, sleep beginning to take over.

"promise i'll get you to next time," he kisses your temple, tightening his hold on your body.

"i'm glad there's a next time." you tease, choso's breath hitching as heat shoots to his face in embarrassment. "hope you keep your promise."

538 notes · View notes