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#but do y’all not just feel so… lonely?
plantsinyourpants · 3 months
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floral-hex · 4 months
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Just canceled all of my future therapy appointments. Big fudgin’ bummer. Did I mention I lost my insurance? Didn’t even find out about that until the day it lapsed. Trying to find a way to fix it now, reapplying and whatnot, but ya know, it’s bureaucracy so who knows how long it’ll take. Just fingers crossed I don’t run out of meds first.
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lol it’s underwater 🐠
#ugggghhhhh so sad#like genuinely I think my therapist rocks#he’s the best one I’ve ever had. nice and cool but no BS and just harsh enough to push me#I feel like such a baby for saying it but literally the number one thing I’ve wanted these last few weeks was to go to therapy#I had to skip my last appointment so I haven’t seen him in weeks#between my mom’s organ transplant and driving back and forth to see her everyday and taking care of my bros aaand super suicidal birthday#I’m just… I’m tired. I want to vent. I just want to spill my guts for an hour and maybe cry a lot#and I can’t do that with anyone else. I know that’s dumb to say#I 100% can’t complain to my family because ya know I gotta be strong and they don’t need me being a burden#and I love my mutuals but I don’t know any of you anywhere well enough to feel comfortable venting#I mean. y’all can vent to me all day. I’ll gladly listen to you talk about yourselves. I’m here for it. I just can’t do it myself 😕#I’m so tired and anxious and I don’t want to really get into the self harm talk but I’ve had some serious self destructive thoughts lately#I don’t know what I’m going to do#I have to believe it’ll get better#because if I don’t believe that then… what’s the point?#also.. I’m really fucking lonely. just to throw that out there. if you can’t tell by my reblogs.#I am like desperately and ravenously lonely and full of longing#and you add that to everything else it’s just the sad little cherry on top…#now I want an ice cream sundae… mmmm….#I need 1000 hugs and to sit with someone and maybe get fucked up and complain and sit in silence and and and blegh#but that’s life. it’ll be… it’ll be whatever it is.#sorry. this is a bit too heavy for this time of morning#I’ve been sick. really bad vertigo and vomiting and I’m just wiped out and sad#but I love you stranger or at least I like you enough to be okay with you reading this#okay be safe#goodbye forever#text
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inky-bun · 2 years
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Hey remember about a month ago when I made that piece with G0lly i said in the tags I’d make a sequel if it got 100 notes?
Well it still doesn’t have 100 notes, but I made the sequel to it :]
So uh stargazing pt 2, but from a little bit later time and a different perspective
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sayaratyriea · 6 months
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i am craving Creative Activity so badly but law school sucked away my spoons to write by myself… so i’m reliant on friends and rp… and all my friends want to do is play overwatch (which i don’t play and don’t want to) or watch tv shows which is fundamentally less interesting and does not scratch the itch….. the adhd gremlins are shredding my skull from the inside out at this point :( send help
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jerichogender · 1 year
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no promises, but would anyone be interested if i decided to start a wilson family discord server?
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deancaskiss · 2 years
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fuck depression
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milkyybuns · 2 years
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tw: rant / :(
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bejeweledblondie · 7 months
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Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcannons
A/N: these are loosely inspired from real life experiences I’ve had living on a military base, these men have a on & off switch it’s crazy
Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader
Warnings: NSFW
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• Simon first saw you while he was in the States for a training exercise, he was out at one of the local bars with some of the other soldiers he was with
• Soap had actually asked for your number first & since he was so intoxicated you turned him down
• Simon apologized for Soap & that’s how you met
• he did have a heart attack when he found out there was a bit of a age gap between you two but quickly got over it when he realized how mature you were
• it was a long distance relationship at first (from personal experience it sucks in the beginning)
• there were times when he couldn’t talk due to the risk of potentially exposing his teams location so you had to write letters every now & then
• you cried constantly whenever you saw some horrific news in the paper about what was going on overseas, the anxiety was awful
• but when he returned the reunions were euphoric
• you have a bottle of his cologne & aftershave so you can always feel close to him
• and you’d spray your perfume on the letters you sent so he couldn’t always smell the paper when he was missing you
• it took him sometime to open up to you about what had happened to him in his past, & your respected that
• when he first met your family, he was shocked by all the support he had received from them
• he asked your parents to marry you the first time he met them & showed them the ring too (ofc they said yes)
• he proposed to you in private after a nice dinner, he got choked up during the proposal
• your dad specifically was elated, he got to brag at how bad ass his son in law is
• your mom if she’s a teacher, had her entire class send cards, candy, anything they’d need in care packages Soap nearly cried when he opened the sweetest letter from a little girl (this actually happened irl my mom’s class did this & one guy got really choked up)
• Simon always would be your fiercest protector
• since he’s like an freakin tree he will guide your head with his bear paw of a hand in crowds
•he CANNOT sit with his back facing the door it stresses him out
•this man is strapped 24/7 whether that be a knife, bear spray etc. he’s ready
•he has a trauma kit in his car because “you never know”
•Simon is 1000% one of those apocalypse preppers you have freeze dried food, medicine, water, etc. he’s always on edge
• he sleeps with a damn rifle next to y’all’s bed
• you have a whole security system too
• your guy’s apartment is impeccable like you could eat off of the floor
• hell your guy’s bed has damn hospital corners
• Simon adopted a cat so you don’t feel as lonely when he’s deployed
• He’s your chonky boy & you do send plenty of photos to Simon when he’s deployed
• Gaz & Soap tease him about him living his “cat dad” life
• you start trying for a baby two years into your marriage
• Simon does fall victim to the “curse of the infantry” (which is not a negative thing btw it’s a running joke that infantry soldiers have all daughters) he makes girls
• he was deployed during your pregnancy & was worried sick he nearly missed the birth of your daughter
• that little girl is the most well protected baby in the whole world, the Task Force gifted him not just baby stuff but damn security for the nursery
• He watches your baby from his phone in the nursery on deployment, he was silently crying once when he was watching you sing a lullaby to your baby girl
•Price had to comfort him father to father
•In reality Simon has a very hard cold exterior at work for the sake of keeping his mental health for the profession he’s in but deep down he’s always held a soft spot & your relationship just brings it out
✨NSFW ✨
• there is a big size difference between you two & it drives him insane
• the first time y’all had together he didn’t want to break you in half
• when he returns from deployment y’all go at it like rabbits for multiple rounds, your poor pussy was so sore afterwards
• has a massive corruption & daddy kink
• he’s an ass man I don’t make the rules here so any position where your ass if the focal point is his favorite
• y’all have made so many sex tapes for him when he’s deployed, he has a whole folder on his phone & jerks off to them in the bathroom or the porta potty (it’s a canon event, trust me) to them
• he lets your cockwarm him constantly when you’re on the couch, when he’s working, hell y’all had even fallen asleep like that
• I know people say he has a Prince Albert piercing but alas per army regulation that is safety risk I think it’s more likely he’d use a cock ring on you
• during a military ball you two snuck off & fucked in a supply closet
• he couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel room after seeing you in your gown, it was red his favorite color
• and he just looked so fucking good in his dress uniform, that was the night you totally conceived your baby girl
• he groans into your ear when he cums & he’ll use his body to just eclipse yours
• “one more baby girl” & “c’mon pretty girl use your words tell me what you want”
• is a sucker for babydoll lingerie it brings your innocence & triggers his corruption kink
• moral of the story Simon Riley fucks
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tieronecrush · 5 months
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secret santa
dbf!joel miller x f!reader
summary: your parents throw a christmas party every year, and this is your first time in the “adult” secret santa exchange. the last few times home, you’ve found joel, your dad’s friend, staring a bit too long, flicking away when he’s caught. for the game, of course, you get joel’s name. and you’re going to make sure it’s the best gift he’s ever received.
rating: E
wc: 5.6k
warnings: daddy kink, age gap (sorry folks but i did want to try my hand at dbf!joel lol i pictured him around 50, reader around mid-late 20s), alcohol consumption, mentions of food, distant relationship with parents, party, christmas, gift giving, secret santa game, bit of deception on reader's part just to get joel alone, lingerie, body worship, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, restraints (using clothes/undergarments), daddy!joel, soft!dom joel, praise, a few instances of degradation, dirty talk (as always)
a/n: (images in moodboard do not convey what reader looks like, only the vibe! no descriptions of reader) my first dbf!joel…milestone moment lol <3 hope y’all enjoy my take on the dbf trope! and tysm to my babies for beta-ing @northernbluess and @kiwisbell love you both 😚
dividers by @saradika
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Twenty years. This same godforsaken party has been happening every December for the last twenty years of your life, full of overserved middle aged parents, and never has it been less enjoyable than since you’ve been an “adult”. An adult still treated as a child, chastised, fawned over, always told to follow the golden rule. No, not treat others as they wish to be treated. Your family’s golden rule was speak only when spoken to.
And your father was the enforcer. Always required you home for the party, even away, out of state for college, away for the semester studying abroad halfway across the world. You were flown home and called upon to do the heavy lifting — groceries, liquor runs, cleaning the house, decorating to make it all feel magically festive.
At times, it felt like Cinderella had nothing on you. At least she had a prince.
The only time that this party has ever been remotely improved was when Joel Miller moved into the neighborhood. He’d snuck in under your radar due to the fact that it happened the few months you were living abroad, but coming back for the party and Christmas break, you were quickly introduced to him by your father. His new “best friend”. One among many. Each serving a unique purpose to get your dad ahead.
Upon meeting Joel, you were drawn to him immediately. Skeptical over the fact he found company with your dad, but much to your surprise, he was different. Maybe lonely and looking for a friend; you’d found he was living alone, his adult daughter, Sarah, in her final years at the University of Chicago — a choice that was hers but Joel admittedly feared, you learned. He only encouraged her, regardless of the fact he was anxious about losing his kiddo.
Not the same sentiments your dad had when dropping you off to school in the farthest, cheapest corner of the country you could find. He was nearly jumping up and kicking his feet together in glee to get you out of the house.
Joel, though, Joel was kind hearted and patient. He was curious and caring, asking you about school, work, your life every time he saw you over the years. Warmth radiated from him despite his more shy demeanor. Comfortable. You felt so comfortable with him.
Which is what made the smallest of lingering glances or the slightest of smiles turned smirks that much more exhilarating.
Maybe you were being naive or projecting your burning desire for him onto every interaction, but as you stitched yourself tighter into Joel’s life over the years, you haven’t been able to help but notice him checking you out at times or slipping a subtle flirty comment into conversations between the two of you. You would give it right back, and that would usually pump the breaks, bringing things back to surface level.
There was one time this past summer, after a neighborhood barbecue that your parents left early from, that you and Joel really had a moment. It was loud, music drowning out the back and forth you were having to the point where you couldn’t quite make out every word, and Joel must have felt the same because he made sure you heard his next words clearly — “Do you want to go somewhere quieter?”
Agreeing immediately, he pressed his large hand into the midpoint of your back, guiding you out of the confines of the party and to the open air of the street. He led you to his place and around back, pulling two lounge chairs next to his pool closer to each other.
That night, thanks to the alcohol buzzing in your system, you confessed more about your home life and your feelings around it. Joel was surprised, given the picture-perfect image your father paints for everyone, but he was comforting as always. Even as far as offering you his spare room if you ever needed a break.
That’s when you knew you were done for. Never in your life had you wanted to just kiss someone that badly. Let alone all of the thoughts that came along with it.
Harboring this crush for your dad’s friend, fifty plus and a father himself, you attempted to keep things growing closer when you came back. Friendly, polite, reciprocating any amount of flirty banter he threw your way. Even initiating it yourself.
You were so incredibly into Joel Miller. And returning home this time, you decided it was high time you acted on those feelings.
The noise of the bustling party dies down enough for your dad to introduce the game, as if the attendees haven’t been participating for nearly as long as you’ve been alive. But your dad loves the attention on him, cracking jokes that make you roll your eyes while everyone else gives him a laugh. Always so focused on himself. How everyone else sees him. Image obsessed enough to forget to assign anyone as a Secret Santa to his own daughter but not forgetting to give her someone to gift to.
Granted, you weren’t that upset about who you’d drawn.
Watching from afar, you see Joel survey the empty space under the tree, only the deep cherry red skirt laid out on the hardwood. Nothing for him. Everyone opens their presents, laughter and excitement bubbling across the room as the point of the game begins. Partygoers start to guess their gifters, hoping to nail down their Secret Santa in one go. Conversations are struck up as people meet their pair, ‘thank you’s exchanged along with the gifts. Joel observes from his spot with a few of your neighbors, also friends with your dad, and the sight of him shifting his weight on his feet is enough to draw up the courage to approach him.
Crossing the room, flashes of him checking you out, lingering in conversations with you about work and your new apartment in the city, seeking you out each time you visit home flood your mind, reassuring your choices the closer you get to him. The closer you get to completely jumping into the deep end, the last few steps teetering you at the edge.
Slowing to a stop next to him, a finger of yours gingerly taps his strong shoulder a few times, pulling his attention away completely. Joel turns his body to face you, away from others to solely focus on you in front of him. The subtle sign of his attraction to you has your nerves tingling, clearing your throat when he speaks up in greeting.
“Hey there, sweetheart. Y’alright?” he asks, eyebrow raised. Always so goddamn sweet.
You sigh, a tinge dramatic but attempting to sell the dismay and toying with the flute glass in your hand. “Lame surprise, but I’m your Secret Santa and I stupidly left your gift upstairs. It’s a bit obnoxious to bring down so d’you mind coming up to open it and you can grab it at the end of the night?”
Joel agrees with a jolt of nervous excitement down his spine. Shuddering out the feeling subtly, he clears his throat and nods, awaiting your lead. He thinks he catches the slightest drag of your eyes up and down his body, lingering at the expanse of his shoulders and the sliver of his chest that is exposed from the two undone buttons of his red flannel.
When no one’s paying attention, you bring Joel upstairs into your old room that you’re staying in while you’re back in town for the holidays. He stands around a bit awkwardly, sticking out like a sore thumb with his broad shoulders stretching his red flannel, thick thighs straining deliciously against the perfectly worn material of his Levi’s. Stark against the frilly softness of your room, with its bright white furnishings, and feminine touches. He’s all man. Nothing like the guys your age who think they’re like him.
Joel glances about the room before he asks, “So, what was so difficult to get under the tree, sweetheart? You didn’t have to get me anything so major.”
“I wanted to. I mean, noticed you eyeing what I got you for a while so figured the least I could do was give it to you…” Joel’s face twists up in confusion, perplexed by the riddled clue before you’re standing in front of him, reaching to the side of your plaid skirt and dragging down the zipper. Joel stutters out nonsense at your actions, lifting his hands in surrender.
“Doll, I think—you don’t—” His mumblings die in his throat when you drop the material to your ankles, revealing red satin panties. When you turn around, a bow sits at the top of your ass, tying up the material to stay on your hips while elasticated bands run along the outline of your cheeks to connect to the crotch. Very little of your bum is covered, showing off the supple flesh to Joel. He’s rendered speechless, averting his gaze after a second too long of staring, the mumblings starting up again.
“S’not a good idea, shouldn’t be up here right now…” Joel looks around, looking over his shoulder toward the door. One of your hands reaches up to gingerly cup his chin, turning his flushed face to yours again. His pupils are blown wide, eyes darkened with desire. Your own gaze flicks down between the two of you, smirking at the bulge growing at the crotch of his jeans. So desperately trying to fight against what he really wants. Even when you’re serving it up in a pretty little package.
He makes no movement toward the door, which you take as a sign of letting go of at least some of his apprehension. Fingers grip the hem of your sweater, pulling it up and over your head, discarding it on your carpet along with your skirt.
Matching red satin material, the bra you’re wearing has a similar structure to your panties. Held up with straps and the usual clasps at the back, the front is a large gift bow, pulled tight when you tied it earlier this evening to push up the flesh of your breasts. One tug at the tail end of both the ribbons, the one at your chest and at your ass, would fully expose you to Joel. Something you’re desperate to propose to him.
“Aren’t you gonna unwrap your present, Joel?” Picking up each of his hands in yours, you guide one to your lower back and one to your chest, coaxing his fingers to wrap around the ends of the bows. “Or do you not like your gift? I thought you wanted this…”
“No, no, no. I like it. I really fucking like it, sweetheart, I just…Everybody’s downstairs and—”
“I can be quiet. I’m a good girl, Joel.”
That flips a switch in him, hearing those words from you. His eyes darken further, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips. A burning stare combs over you, head to toe, alighting flames in your gut that lick against your insides. Heat crawls across the back of your neck, pooling in your collarbone, and craving oozes between your ribs and between each of your vertebrae. Joel’s right hand lifts from his side, skating up the length of your left arm and leaving goosebumps rising in its wake. Fingertips ghost over the strap of your bra, down to the center of your collarbone, and sitting there. That lasts only a second before his long, thick fingers wrap around the base of your throat, raising his loose grip to settle underneath your jaw.
The silence is heavy, airy breaths the only sounds passed between the two of you. His hand at your neck coaxes your head to tip back, staring up at him looking down at you. A flicker to your lips. A low, curious hum. Arousal pools in between your thighs as you wait with bated breath for something, anything to happen.
“You’re dangerous, doll.” His whisper is coated in lust, his gaze greedy as it drinks you in once again.
“I’m a gift,” you correct sweetly, feigning innocence as a smirk grows on your face at his dark chuckle.
“A gift that keeps on giving?” he questions. His hand twists to allow his thumb to find your bottom lip, dragging across its glossy, cherry surface.
“I guess you’ll have to find out…” Your mouth stays open after speaking, tongue slipping out to lick the tip of Joel’s thumb. He presses his finger further, pushing between your lips as you welcome it, sucking gently. Joel sighs, shoulders relaxing while his eyes flash with need.
“Christ…” he hisses under his breath, shaking his head subtly before clearing his throat. Speaking sternly, unwavering, he says, “Can I unwrap my present, babydoll?”
His thumb leaves your mouth with a quiet pop, hand finding its place again at the slack of the bow at your chest, other arm wrapping around to find the bow at your ass. A gentle tug moves the satiny smooth material a few centimeters, not enough to pull it fully undone.
“All yours, Joel. Picked out ‘specially for you.” Joel smirks at your candied reply, eager to give him exactly what he’s been wishing for. What you’ve caught him staring at the last few times you’ve come back home. What you have been wanting for just as long, if not longer.
“Such a sweet girl. Beautiful girl.”
The words send a tingle down your spine, stoking the flames inside of you. Your eyes stay trained on Joel’s face while his fingers draw the bow at your chest undone, the lengths of material hanging at your sides and exposing your breasts. He licks his lips at the sight of your pebbled nipples, rolling out a stifled groan from his chest.
“Fuck, baby…S’pretty.”
Joel’s hands fan across your lower back, holding your hips against his, pressing his bulge into your covered mound. His broad frame folds forward, draping you backwards in his arms as his mouth attaches to your chest. Humid, open-mouthed kisses are littered across your skin, nips taken at the tender flesh of your breasts. Closing his lips around one of your nipples, he sucks strongly, pulling a whimper from your throat.
“Thought you could be quiet, doll?” he rasps, raising an eyebrow as he looks up at you from your sternum.
Nodding furiously, you pout your lower lip out, whispering back, “I can be, I will be. I promise.”
“You promise? Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby.” Joel stands up straight, pulling you with him to press against his torso. Catching your lips in a deep kiss, Joel breathes a sigh into your mouth, melting his tongue against yours and drinking in the taste of you.
Dripping with saccharine sugar. Coated with syrupy goodness, plump and succulent like a maraschino cherry. A toothache, or maybe even a heartache waiting to happen.
He’s fucking screwed, but damn if it doesn’t feel good as he nails himself to his own persecution from whoever may find out about this.
Handfuls of your undulating curves fill his palms as he kisses you, groaning into your mouth as he grabs at the swell of your ass. Silky satin brushes against his hand, reminding him of the other part of his present to unwrap. Pulling away from your mouth with one last lick of your candied taste, he has the mind to imagine what the rest of your flavors all across your body might be.
Joel turns you in his arms, back flush to his chest as he grinds his bulge against the lustrous fabric, smirking to himself as you whimper quietly, so hushed he can barely hear it over his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Lips coast over the shell of your ear, nibbling your lobe before pressing a kiss right below.
“Can I undo your other pretty bow, babygirl? Unwrap the rest of my present?” Joel nips again when you breathe out consent. He walks you closer to the bed, hitting your knees against the frame before he takes one step back, touch still lingering on your skin. From behind you, he sighs appreciatively as he drinks in your form, licking his lips as his eyes devour you.
Pinching the ribbon between his thick fingers, he flicks it against your skin, satisfied with the way you react with goosebumps raised. One gentle tug unravels it all, exposing your cheeks to him fully and with the drop of the material from between his fingertips, your panties fall to the floor. One hand wrapping around your thigh, Joel coaxes you to step out to the side with it, kicking the fabric from your ankle.
He kneels behind you, pressing his lips against the swell of your ass. Flooded with the scent of your skin, vanilla and cinnamon, the smell of Christmas. Nose smashed into the supple flesh, teeth sinking into the curve, a gentle bite stealing another taste of you. A curse is mumbled against you, a sweet kiss pressed on the tiny birthmark on your ass, tongue tracing into the fading bite mark.
“Joel…” you whine above him, hand reaching back and nimble fingers tangling into his messy, gray curls.
“I know, doll. Got lost there for a second. You’re so perfect…”
He sighs again, standing up with a quiet crack in his joints. A blatant reminder of the difference between you two. Young versus old. Sprightly versus verging on doddering. Even if he is eager, there’s no denying the difference.
There’s no doubt in your mind that Joel’s about to be more of a gift to you than you are to him. The way he’s touching you, delicate worship before he’s even gotten to what he truly wants, taking his time despite the pressure of the party downstairs. Serves as a reassurance that he wants this as much as you do, wants to take his sweet time if this is going to be his only chance.
You pray to god it isn’t. Even before you’ve even laid eyes on his cock, you just know. He’s going to fuck you senseless. Ruin every other man for you.
In a blur, he guides you to fall forward onto the mattress, hooking fingers to remove your panties from your other ankle while you scoot toward the center. He finds solace between your legs, propping your hips up into a kneeling position to give him easier leverage. 
“Think this might be my favorite present I’ve been given, doll. So fucking gorgeous. Looking delectable…Can I have a taste, darling? You as sweet as you seem?”
Your head is turned sideways, laying against the plush comforter, opening your mouth to whisper to him in the same moment he swipes his tongue through your folds, groaning into your inner thigh before he dives back in, working to devour you like a man starved, quenching his thirst on your arousal. Flicking his tongue against your pearl, coated in your translucence, suckling at it with pure need. Turning to press the front of your face into your bedding, it muffles your moans and whines, raising in pitch as he fucks your tight cunt with his strong tongue, lapping at you with the same fervor he’d lick the color from a candy cane.
“Fuck, Joel, fuck fuck fuck!” you shout in a scouring voice, scratching your vocal chords together with a strain. Curling your fingers into the softened, washed fabric, you gasp when one of his solid fingers slips into your walls. He groans, holding back his louder reaction to your gripping walls, hypnotized by the way you even stretch around his fingers when he adds another.
Head against your thigh, he studies the way you take his middle and ring fingers, the velvety slick of your pussy, and the spongy spot he finds, curling his digits to press into it and watch you squirm helplessly from the sensitive pleasure.
“Talkin’ all well mannered and pretty. So quiet and polite all the time. With your ‘yes’sir’s and ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s. You think about saying those to me while you’re under me like this?”
“Yes, yes’sir. All the fucking time. Every time I—I looked at you, felt myself…felt myself gettin’ so fucking wet. Was always dripping around you, waiting for something to happen. For you to take me so I can be a good girl for you, sir,” you confess, obedience and need sitting every word so prettily into his ears. “M’so—Fuck m’gonna come, Joel.”
He nods slowly, taking last looks at your cunt before he moves his fingers in and out quicker, dipping his chin down for his mouth to find your clit against, lapping at your dripping wetness and sucking hard. At the next press of his fingers against that spot inside of you, your vision grows blurred, white haze painting everything with a dreamlike filter. You bite into the linen fabric of your comforter, gagging yourself to keep quiet as you come, digging the balls of your feet to the mattress to push yourself away from Joel who continues to work you through it. He grabs at you, tugging you back to get his fill until you sob, overstimulation drawing tears up to the corners of your eyes.
“All kept and composed and ladylike. Been taught to behave, haven’t you? Bet you fucking love to be such a little slut. Anybody ever let you? Such a dirty girl, aren’t you, babydoll?” Joel’s voice sounds distanced at first, senses falling back into place in your body as you come down completely. His work-worn hands coast over your body, roughening against your soft skin like sandpaper moving with the grain. Little resistance but catching in places it favors.
“Just—Just for you, Daddy.” It slips out smoothly from your mouth, the weight of the title heavy against your tongue in the same way you imagine his cock would feel. Filling. Satisfying.
Joel rises slowly from where he’s bent behind you, letting one leg fall behind him as he stands, the other propped on the bed. His eyes narrow in on yours, lips parted and tongue darting out as he replays what you said.
Daddy.
First, you’re already on his mind and years younger, yet he couldn’t stop picturing you in this exact position. Next, you’re the one to make the first move, dragging him away from this Christmas party and presenting him with a Secret Santa gift that feels way out of the budget. You’re priceless. And now, you’re laid out for him, already nearly at the level of fucked out from him only using his mouth and fingers, and you’re fucking calling him Daddy.
Best Christmas of his goddamn life.
“Now, darlin’, were you saving that to be the cherry on top of the cake? ‘Cause that’s just about the sweetest thing. My pretty lil’ babydoll saying she’s Daddy’s dirty girl,” he scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head while his fingers work his button open on his jeans, dragging the zipper down against his throbbing bulge. “Gonna have to be quiet, yeah? Gotta keep your sweet mouth closed while Daddy fucks you, doll.”
“I’ll be quiet, promise. Please, Daddy.” Your pleas widen Joel’s smirk, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips once again. He pushes his denim down with his cotton boxers in their wake, sighing softly when his hard cock is fully freed. His tip is aching and red, leaking precum and leaving a wet spot on his underwear. With one hand, he starts to slowly stroke himself, holding in a moan enough that it leaves his lips as a soft exhale.
“Good girl…” he mumbles, studying your form. “Move back toward me, babygirl. Hands behind your back.”
Complying with his direction, you inch back until Joel places a hand on your lower back. At that, you lay forward again, the side of your face pressing against the duvet as Joel steps back from the bed and searches the floor. A dribble of drool drips from the corner of your lips as you watch him, one large hand around his cock, spreading his precum along his length. Part of you has the mind to beg for him in your mouth, to completely disregard the need pulsating your cunt at the moment, and to feel his warm spend coating your throat as he finishes fucking it.
But you’re fucking selfish. This is also a gift for you, so win-win.
Pressing your wrists together at your lower back, you observe as Joel locates what he is looking for, standing up with a devilish smirk. Your panties.
He towers over you again when he steps back to you, one hand coasting over the curve of your ass, a gentle smack delivered that makes a quiet yelp escape from your lips. The same hand skims back up your skin, easily grabbing both of your wrists in his long fingers and holding them closer while he slips the silky material behind. In a quick motion, he has your arms tied together with a bow, a content smile on his face as he makes eye contact with you.
“Wrapped all up again, babydoll. Such a pretty gift for me.”
“Well you’ve got a pretty package, Daddy,” you reply with a mischievous giggle, earning a breathy chuckle from Joel behind you. He grips the knot of your makeshift restraint, tugging taut to arch your back and pull your hips closer. His other hand wraps around the base of himself, dragging the head of him through your drenched folds, circling your clit, and chuckling again at the jump of your thighs.
“Please, Daddy, I need—” you start pleading, muffled into linen before you’re cut off by the stretch of Joel’s cock filling your tight hole, a gasp escaping your lungs with a punch. Your mouth is stuffed with the duvet from your bite down, nursing your tongue against the material as he slowly presses into you, inch by inch. There’s an ever-so-slight pain candy-coating the pleasure, melting away to get to the gooey, oozing center that spreads over your entire body.
Pausing when he reaches the hilt of himself, Joel sighs, rolling his head back as he internally thanks whatever Christmas magic must be out there for this moment.
“So fucking tight, baby.” 
Your dampened whine shoots a wave of intense need throughout him, growling low as he holds your restraint tighter, dragging his hips back before he starts a punishing pace. Control escapes him, desire taking over his actions as he starts to properly fuck you. His cock teaching you how to take every single inch of it.
Messes of his name and your moans are stifled and stuttered into the comforter gagging you, chest hovering over the mattress as Joel holds tight to the knot in your panties.
“Can’t hold back any longer, baby, jus’—fuck—jus’ gonna take Daddy’s cock like a good girl, aren’t ya?” The only precision remains in the soft cracks of skin on skin, not loud enough to draw any attention from the party downstairs. Poppy carols play faintly in the background, the only other soundtrack being the vulgar mumbles slipping from Joel’s lips.
Drawing you closer and closer, the edge is tasted on your tongue, so close but barely in reach as the man behind you rocks his hips, the tip of his hard cock brushing that same spongy spot inside of you that he managed to reach with his fingers, bruising into your cervix with each snap.
At the next drag-out, Joel pulls away from you completely. When you whine with protest, he’s tugging you to stand up on your knees, whispering in your ear amid his quick movements, “Need to see your face when I make you come all over my cock…”
Before you can be left with any thoughts to a response, he’s flipping you onto your back, hands tied still, and tugging you near again. He steals a pillow from the top of your bed, shoving it under your hips to lift your pelvis, gifting himself the perfect angle to thrust into you again from the height he stands at.
The new angle punches out moans from your chest, Joel’s name littering the empty room as you try so hard to remain quiet.
“Shh, I know, doll, I know. Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Y’love bein’ Daddy’s little slut.” Nodding furiously, another louder moan leaves your mouth, brows knit together with worry as you hurtle closer and closer to the edge.
A large palm moves to cover your mouth, shaking his head slowly to remind you of your promise to be his good girl, his quiet girl. 
“Pleasepleaseplease, Daddy…” He feels the vibrations of your voice against his hand, the words muddled into slight nonsense from pleasure clouding your brain. Joel holds onto one of your legs, pulling it up to hook onto his shoulder and press forward to get deeper inside of you. The switch has you screaming into his palm, eyes squeezing shut as you squirm under him.
“Eyes on me, babygirl. Keep your eyes on Daddy.”
Joel’s hips pound into you, chasing his own climax. Your eyes snap open at his instruction, mouthing at his hand and moaning loudly behind it, nodding your head furiously. Your tight walls squeeze around his hard cock, his grunts held back to keep quiet despite the noise of the party downstairs growing in volume.
“Come on, doll. Come on my cock…Fuck, you gonna let Daddy fill up your pretty little cunt?” The quick, speechless nods answers his question, both of you toeing the edge.
There’s a moment when both of you seize up, muscles tense and eyes burning into each other’s. It only lasts a split second before it explodes with a pop, at the same second a champagne bottle pops downstairs. Joel breathes out your name, over and over, mingling with your whimpers of his name and Daddy switching back and forth in your mind. Interchangeable to you.
Pleasure fizzes over your bodies like bubbles in the flutes being filled, the bubbling aerations trickling up up up to your head, making you feel lighter than air as pure bliss overwhelms you. Tingles aftershock across your nerves, a shiver sent down your spine as Joel pulls out.
Quietly, he groans as he watches his excess spend drip out of you, mixing with your come and glistening against your folds. One thick finger swipes at the spot, pushing the swirl of you back inside of your walls.
A soft whimper slips from your lips and Joel’s eyes meet yours in a flash, a gentle smile stretching across your face. He coaxes you to sit up and unties your hands behind your back, slowly massaging your wrists with his thumbs and kissing where the skin rubbed against the fabric. The tender touches accompany the soothing, comfortable silence.
Redressing you, Joel attempts to tie the bows of your bra and panties, huffing softly in frustration. You giggle when he’s working on your bra, taking his chin gingerly between your fingers and turning his head to look at you. Leaning in, his lips catch yours in a sweet, sugary gumdrop kiss. 
It’s another moment before both of you are fully dressed again. You study yourself in the mirror above your dresser, smoothing your hair down. Joel steps up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder through the knit sweater. He turns you around to face him again, grinning shyly as his eyes comb over your face.
The two of you share another kiss, his calloused hand cradling your cheek when he pulls away.
“You gonna be under my tree again on Christmas day, doll?”
“Depends…Were you naughty or nice this year?” you counter, earning a quiet laugh from Joel as he shakes his head.
“Think what just happened has put me on the naughty list for a long time, babygirl. And you, too.” He shoots you a cheeky wink and you laugh, shaking your head as you lock your fingers together in front of you.
“I did actually get you something though…” you admit shyly, rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet.
Joel grins, eyes flicking down to your anxious hands. His thumb brushes against the skin of your cheek, eyes meeting yours again as he replies, “You have another gift for me? Didn’t need to do that, doll.”
“I mean…Kinda needed a backup plan if this whole thing didn’t work out.” A chuckle is shared between both of you before you continue, “Sorry for spoiling the whole guessing game of Secret Santa.”
“Darlin’, you could spoil any games for me if it ends up with this kinda surprise.” Joel smirks before stealing another quick kiss, pulling away when you step back to fish out the small, meticulously wrapped giftbox from the top right drawer of your dresser.
Handing over the square package, Joel’s eyes glitter with boyish excitement. The corner of his mouth pulls up to one side while his thick fingers slip under the creases of the paper to rip the tape, undoing the festive wrapping to reveal the lidded giftbox that he opens quickly. Inside, Joel studies the contents. Small triangles with rounded corners made from thin nylon plastic. A deep emerald green, all sitting like precious gemstones. His initials are branded into one side with gold paint, the flip side emblemed with the silhouette of an owl.
“Sweetheart…Thank you. These are real nice…” he speaks softly while he picks one up between his index and thumb, turning it between the tips of his fingers. “They’re perfect. Gonna be sad if I end up losing one of these like all my other picks.”
You smile sweetly, stepping closer again and resting your hands on his biceps, “Guess you’ll have to take good care of ‘em.”
As he looks at you, he mirrors your smile, sharing one more gentle kiss before whispering against your lips, “Can think of another something I have to take good care of.”
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3K notes · View notes
ellieslob · 2 months
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★ les
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+tags: rockstar ellie, masc ellie, fem reader, modern relationship, femme fatale reader, top! sub ellie, dom ellie, power bottom reader, fem reader, inspired by Les, Childish Gambino.
+warnings: smut, nsfw, degradation kink, mentions of cheating, toxic? relationship, angry sex, all consensual, submission, strap on, cunnilingus, rough treatment, strap gets called dick or cock, it’s not cheating to them.
ways to help palestine!!!
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REBLOG !
R★ you catched ellie’s eyes since the beginning of the song, since you started ‘dancing’ so close to a fuckin’ guy while looking straight into her eyes, all with a stupid smile, laughing at something that the brickfucker was whispering to your ear.
she didn’t notice the change of the song until the lights shifted to a red cherry, and the drums started to bring her to her senses, but could she really? not when you were practically fuckin’ some guy in front of her, in front of everyone.
before another song ended you practically ran with him to a room, to her room, you were such a dirty little bitch, and she knew how to treat bitches like you.
she slammed the door, throwing the guitar across the room, not caring about it the same way she didn’t care about leaving the concert or her band in the middle of a show. she couldn’t care less about all that smaller shit.
you were in the bed, legs spread out and stroking your tits as that fucker eat you up like a candy, that candy was hers, only fuckin’ hers.
she grabbed him aggressively by the shirt, ripping some of the fabric and making him get up so fast
“wait wh-
“get the fuck out of my room, dipfuck” she threw him out of the room, making sure he fell on his face and locked him out.
“hi baby, that was a good show, wasn’t too short?” you smiled at her while opening your legs, letting her watch how wet you were, you nipples and clit were abused and all reddish, shining because of the saliva of other man.
“you are a greedy whore, you know that?” as mad as she were at you, she still got down to your pussy with a smile on her face, bitting her lip when looking at you wet folds, trying not to yield to your power, trying to stay mad at you.
“ow don’t be jealous ellie, you know i can get bored at your long long shows, i need… entrainment”
“and you think those fuckers can give you what you want? your little cunt is mine, nobody can make you cum like i can doll”
“mm maybe not but they can keep me occupied while you are doing your job babe” you grabbed her hand while you were talking and started playing with your clit with it, she almost growled at the feeling, you were so hot and wet.
“i’m just a girl, i can get soo lonely watching you sing, touch that guitar with your strong hands that were made to fuck me, singing with that voice that was made to scream my name, i get horny just by watching you darling”
“so you just fuck some other dude?! doesn’t make fuckin’ sense darlin’ she smiled angry and held your hips strongly as she pulled down on you, making sure her mouth and your cunt were aligned.
“but if i play with them you get soo mad and you fuck me just the way i like” she was treating the way you wanted, like a fucking sex doll, so careless and rough.
“you’re such a greedy little whore babe, look at you we are fighting and you are clenching onto nothing” she was pissed, you knew it and you were drooling, you loved seeing her like that.
you both were so wet, you weren’t really fighting, never really were, you both knew how to play naughty and you both liked it so much, at the end of the day ellie knew you would never really cheat on her and you knew she couldn’t either, you trusted each other with passion but sometimes it was fun to make it spicier and y’all knew exactly how to push each other to that exquisite point of anger and love.
“ellie! yesyesyea” you always turned into a pretty mess whenever her tongue even barely touched your pussy, but she just was so eager, so desperate, she was eating you were the only food she’d had in months.
“oh look at my little hoe” she stopped linking just to give little slaps to your pussy, hitting on your clit as you.
“ell- please, please, i need it sososo bad” your whines high-pitched, you were practically screaming, but neither of you cared if someone heard you, actually ellie wanted you to go louder, maybe that way the fuckers that would go by the door would understand that you were hers only.
“what do you want, doll?” she murmured to you ear, so calmly and sweet, as if she weren’t rubbing your clit like a maniac.
“ellie i n-need you to- fuck!” you grabbed her jacket, shoving ellie to the bed hard enough until you could sit on her lap “you better fuck me, before i go out and ask someone else to do it baby”
she sneered as her gaze went dark, your hips were grabbed and pulled hard, you could feel ellie’s strap hitting your clit again, and she was controlling your hips to keep hitting it. “you really think another bitch could make you feel like this?” your moans just made her more greedy, she pulled your dress to your belly, taking a more elaborated look at the mess you pussy was, you kept grinding on her bult, so needy, so slutty, god she loved you “answer.” she stopped your hips, restraining you from getting to the edge of your climax.
“no! nobody, i want you, ‘need you ellie, please, i’ll be good, ‘promise” ellie smiled and pulled your little panties to the side, pulling her jeans a little and watched how her dark red plastic dick hit your clit directly when it was liberated.
“ask me to do it princess” she stimulated your nipples over the dress, stopping just for a little to expose your pretty tits, ready for her to make them bounce.
“ellie please, i’m begging you, please fuck me” your ego dissapeard with your clothes, all you cared about was to get that dick deep inside you, to get ellie to growl in your ear and fuck you silly.
when she noticed the little tears in your pretty eyes she knew you’ve had enough. you felt that big cock stretching your interior as ellie was rubbing your clit with her thumb. “god! yesyesye, t-thank you baby”
when foreplay ellie knew that you could be a little competitive and even fight with her for the dominance in the bed, but when she fucked you silly, you got so submissive it was sweet, your mean words turned into compliments or cute nicknames.
“that’s it my pretty girl, you like it?” it was kind of a rhetorical question, her dick was getting soaked in your juices, you were pounding yourself hard and from your pouty lips she could see a drool coming, god you were simply perfect.
“els i love it, god yesyes, i love you so much, fuck” ellie’s eyes softened and she just couldn’t stop smiling, she loved when your little act came down, when you were just her little angel, because she loved y’all little games and to play with each other but you were just so lovely like that.
“i love you too angel, come on, let’s make my little baby cum” she started hitting you on your sweet spot, your tits were bouncing directly on her face, she licked them when your nipple and her mouth hit. her hips were going way to fast and your clit was indirectly getting rubbed, it was driving you crazy
“ellie! i can’t, can’t any-ah give me, give” you weren’t making any sense at this point, your hips, and practicly your hole body, were moving like crazy, the drool droping fast, your nipples were so fucking erect, they felt like rocks against her warm mouth. you were going to cum, like hard, ellie could see it on your pretty face, feel it on your pounding, and definitely could hear it from your almost pornographic screams.
“cum on my dick beautiful, i got you, give me a little show” you started jumping hard on her strap, accidentally making the base of the plastic rub her clit too “fuck baby” you both started to make everything rougher and more intense, you felt the her dick going deeper and she could just get off with the show you were complete giving her, now the movement on her clit was too much.
“i’m yes, ellie, i love you! ahhh make me” her hips were knocking you out, your eyes were getting blurry, her sounds, her body, the look she was giving to you as she fucked you “yes! im cuming! fuck” ellie screamed with you when her strap slipped and hit you both just were you need it.
you both felt liquid coming out of your pussy, getting all over the strap and ellie’s clothes, you fell into her strong arms, both of you agitated and so fucking happy. she hugged you tight, she started to plant little kisses on your forehead and face.
“i love you baby” you smiled, she was such a softie, only you could see this part of her.
“i love you more” and only ellie could watch you all lovely and needy.
“ellie where the fuck are you?! we need you for the next song!” oh, maybe ellie had groupies bitches around her all the time, trying to fuck her but none of them were you, they could never get to her, not even fucking dressing up as you.
“they can fucking wait, i’m with my baby” you were everything the other needed, and even if you guys make it seemed like you were cool about it, but everybody knew you guys only belonged to each other, there was no place for anyone or anything else.
REBLOG !
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1K notes · View notes
some-bunniii · 3 months
Text
Lucifer with an artist reader
・❥ You’re hosting an art class, and the nude model is someone you never expected
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
xx: it’s a long one y’all 😭 we’re still in the pre-dating era! Slowburn, anybody? Forget the crumbs, have the whole loaf of bread, my swans ☺️
warning: brief mentions of nudity & mild swearing
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After Lucifer’s initial tour of the hotel, he started coming around much more often.
He was beginning to reconcile with his daughter, and that meant making up for all the years he had missed out due to his self-isolation.
When Lucifer came to the hotel for Charlie, he always made time for you.
At first, when you had still been busy working away at the paintings for the hotel, he had used the excuse that he was just coming over simply to “admire the art.”
Nevermind that he crossed the entire hotel just to look at some paintings, but you never pried him about it. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t waiting in anticipation for his visits.
Sometimes, he would lean against the door frame in silence, watching as your brush glided across the surface of the canvas. He dared not to disturb you while you worked. Too afraid he’d cause you to slip up and place your brush in the wrong spot, ruining your piece.
He never would admit it, but the soft, feather-like strokes you made always seemed to lull him into a state of tranquil bliss.
If he had the opportunity to sit there for hours and watch you paint, he’d probably drift off into a peaceful sleep.
It was ASMR for the King of Hell.
You weren’t always sure whether he was admiring the painting, or you. You were too concentrated on making a leaf of a tree, or the surface of the water just right to trace his gaze.
You’d think with Lucifer being the embodiment of pride and his rank as ruler of the realm, he’d have demanded your attention instantly.
Instead, it was you who usually spoke first. “Are you going to sit down?” You’d tease with a warm smile, greeting him with a bat of your eyelashes as you soaked your brush with fresh paint.
“Of course, I just wanted to see your progress, it’s looks beautiful as always.”
You had hummed a thanks as he strode over to the flat cushion in the middle of the room, and collapsed in it. He had now claimed it as his personal spot ever since he had first used it when you let him use his wings for reference.
Every time he made himself comfortable, he would exhale a large sigh of relief, like he just walked out of a noisy and over-stimulating circus show.
His tolerance for people in general was still pretty dicey, but here, in the quiet corner of the hotel, he could reset his mind.
And with you there? He didn’t feel so lonely. Even in your silence, your presence and the multitude of large paintings leaning against the walls was all he needed to keep his mind from drifting off into darker thoughts.
“Boy, do you work fast. I can’t imagine what Hell would like if you were the one running things.”
“Probably terrible,” You had laughed, “I may be able to create art under time constraints, but the pressure of an entire realm on my shoulders? We’ll let the super-powerful-fallen-angel deal with that.”
“There goes my vacation,” He had sighed dramatically.
Sometimes, he’d catch you humming to an ancient tune, and every time he’d ask you about it.
“What song is this?” He’d ask, genuine interest lacing his voice.
“Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen”
“I’m not even going to pretend to know what that means”
“ ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’ ,” you’d laugh, “It’s a German song and is, you guessed it, from the Renaissance.”
“Oh, right. Germany. Yeah, they were our biggest influx of souls back in the early 1900s,” He replied, “Must’ve been fun people.”
You shook your head at that. Right, ‘Fun’, that was a rather.. surface-level take on what that country had gotten into during that period of time.
“You should tell me more about the Renaissance.” He’d ask with puppy-dog eyes, which always made you set down your brush and turn to him. A content smile spreading across your face.
Your knowledge of such a time always intrigued him, the Renaissance as a whole did. For so long, he had desperately clung onto the hope that some of humanity would go on to create great and beautiful things due to his actions. That his Fall wasn't all for nothing.
Slowly, that hope fizzled out, and Lucifer’s growing delusion that Earth mirrored the sinful realm of Hell in more ways than one plagued his mind.
And then you appeared, passionate about Man’s most beautiful creations. Art, music, long-ago writings of sappy declarations of love in the form of poetry, and times when humanity’s intellectual and innovative nature flourished.
“It was absolutely magnificent,” You’d start, drawing from the depths of your mind all the imagery you could remember from when you were alive, “Filled with all kinds of artistic expression, painters that filled the ceilings of churches with heavenly imagery-“
Lucifer had snorted at that. This era in time had such a romanticized idea of what Heaven and their Creators were like. He pitied their ignorance.
“-and beautiful music. They were known for bringing to life a worldview known as Humanism. It was meant to bring back ancient philosophy — like from the Greeks — to uplift people to participate in the betterment of humanity, and to perpetuate much more virtuous actions. There must be a whole city full of them up there, I can't imagine anyone from that period ending up down here with how protective they were of their moral code.”
He’d always listen attentively in silence as you educated him. Sometimes, he’d even pull out the classic yellow rubber duck toy he held so close to his heart, and begin to fiddle with it as you spoke.
When he worked on them in your room, he’d curate them especially for you.
“Look! This one can refill your palette with the bestest freshest paint!” He’d exclaim as he wiggled it in the air, “And it still quacks!”
Every time, you’d pull up a cushion across the table from him, and rest your chin on your hand as you watched in amusement as he demonstrated his work.
In this instance, he squeezed the sides of the duck and it let out a pathetic Sqeaaooo and a glob of paint slid out of its mouth and plopped right onto the table. It splattered, leaving a few droplets on his pretty white overcoat.
Lucifer was a messy fella, and times like this made you growl quietly and reach for a wet cloth from your cleaning bucket. Hastily trying to rid his clothing of the bright red paint. Your movements across his sleeve made his body tense, and his breath quicken.
For someone who easily flustered you with abrupt acts of affection like the first time you met, Lucifer had the uncanny ability to turn his face as red as his cheek spots when you displayed such care towards him.
“It's still a work in progress.” He’d bashfully assure you every time something like that wouldn’t go as planned.
You’d wish Lucifer displayed such creativity outside of the yellow bath toy, but you promised yourself to help him down that path.
You could only imagine how many ideas this man had stored in that head of his, and you had a feeling you’d get him to wake up eventually. The thought of being there for him — with him, made your cheeks hot.
When it was finally time for him to leave the hotel — sometimes hours later, you’d walk him to the door of your little atelier and he’d turn to you, with that charming smirk and half-lidded look.
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Charlie?” You had ask, as he adjusted his hat and coat to depart.
“I already did before I got here,” he replied nonchalantly, as if you two existed in completely different buildings. Nevermind that she was a flight of stairs and a few halls away.
There were no more bold kisses to the limbs from him after your first meeting, to your displeasure. Even thinking about it gave you feelings that tugged painfully at your heartstrings and made you beg internally for more.
You desperately wished for him to softly hold your hand once more, to feel his lips graze your knuckles, to drink in the warmth of his touch.
Instead, he clutched his staff tightly, and dipped his hat to you.
“Until next time, Darling,” his voice, like silk, had echoed as waves of gold surrounded him. In a blink of an eye, you were left alone once more. Your heart pounding just like the first time, and every time after that.
Today, your heart was pounding just as fast. Except there was no Lucifer in sight.
Three days ago, you got a call from a good friend of yours who ran an art studio on the other side of Pentagram City. She realized she had double booked her classes, and had begged you to take over one for them.
“I’ve never taught anyone before…” You had trailed off over the phone, apprehensive to the idea.
“Nonsense! You are so well spoken, and you’re fantastic at this kind of stuff,” She exclaimed, “It’s not that hard, all you have to do is sit there while they trace the model and step in a few times to give them some tips on techniques. They aren’t a beginner class, so they shouldn’t need much instruction. You’re also in charge of guiding the model with the poses, but I already have a sheet that has them all, so you just need to follow along.”
You stood there for a moment, thinking. This was something totally strange to you. What were art classes like in Hell, anyway?
“Oh, AND they are going to be nude. At least partially, we make them cover their um, nether regions. That shouldn’t be a problem for you, right? I mean, you get paid for it so…”
Your friend trailed off, and the line went quiet for a moment as you mind raced. You looked around the now -empty atelier, your paintings finished and hung up around the hotel. You had nothing that was stopping you from doing it, not your skills, your time, or even the fact that the model was going to be exposed. You were in Hell, seeing someone like that was an almost daily occurrence. Telling her no just because of your nerves was a douchy thing to do, and you were far above that.
“Fine.” You conceded.
“YAYY!!” She shrieked in happiness, and you had to yank the phone away from your ear before it could start to bleed.
The next few minutes were her telling you where, when, and what to do. You had listened intently, memorizing her words. You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of strangers that you were teaching.
After hanging up the phone, had you went downstairs and to the hotel’s lobby to inform Charlie of your new job.
“I’m really sorry if this interferes with me working here, but I just couldn’t leave her hanging.”
“Pffft, it’s fine,” Charlie had waved it off, “You accepting the position as my new interior design manager is more than enough, i’m just glad you’re getting out of your comfort zone like this!”
You sighed a breath of relief. Good, no issues. You were worried she would have said no, and the fact she knows about Lucifer visiting you? Well, you weren’t sure how she was taking that. You never dared to ask, nor did she make any kind of indication her feelings about that.
“What’s it like?” She had asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“It’s nothing too bad, I think I might actually like it. I just help them with their techniques on mastering figure drawing by using a model as a reference. My friend says they are still looking for one to pose, so hopefully they find one in the next few days.”
“Interestingggggg” Charlie responded, her eyes holding a mischievous glint to them. You could see the gears turning in her head, but what for, you had no clue. You didn’t ask either.
You had spent the next few days preparing, you even had visited the studio. It was very pretty, and the room you were in was small, but rather homey. You had more confidence with your ability to lead the class now after locating specific areas of importance.
Which lead you to present day. You were hurriedly scrambling around the room, grabbing anything of necessity.
Your eyes jumped to the clock, and a squeak of panic escaped you as the class’ starting time got closer and closer. Finally placing the last pencil in your bag, you raced down the stairs, beelining for the door.
“Where you going in such a rush, Hot Cakes?” Angel Dust called out to you from the bar, Husk next to him as he poured Angel another drink.
“To class, do you know where Charlie or Alastor is?” You questioned them.
A rush of wind tickled your back, and you whipped around to see the Radio Demon himself looming behind you.
“Hello, my friend!” Alastor’s toothy grin on full display.
“I heard you were looking for Charlie, unfortunately she left not too long ago. She said it was something of great importance, and that it could shape the future of the hotel. But do not worry, I am here to assist you!”
You placed your hands together into a praying motion, trying your best to appeal to the demon’s better nature. If he had one.
“Can you pretty, pretty please send me to the Regal Fortune Studio? I’m doing a class there and I need to get there on time.” You begged.
Alastor’s eyes squinted in thought. Before his smile widened more than ever.
“Alright, I suppose so.”
You didn’t get to utter a thank you before the demon snapped his fingers, and dark energy crackled around you. Cold suddenly gripped at your shoulders, and your vision blurred.
You squeezed your eyes shut, unsure of what would happen next.
‘Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me’
Suddenly, light hit your eyelids and you slowly opened them to see the studio before you, just steps away from the front door.
You exhaled a sigh of relief, before yanking open the door.
The door to the classroom was slightly ajar, and you could hear faint voices inside. Indicating that everyone but you was ready to begin.
You crossed the lobby, ready to pull on the handle of the door, before a slight movement in the corner of your eye caused you to turn your head.
At the far end of the room, you could partially see long, blonde hair sticking out into view. Then, you heard the stranger speak to herself. Quiet grumblings of a feminine voice as they berated themself.
You raised an eyebrow.. could it be?
“Charlie?” You asked slowly.
The stranger squeaked, their hair pulled out of view. You heard a thump against the wall, as though they’ve pressed themselves against it in an attempt to hide.
You slowly tip toed the hallway, before whipping your body around the corner, surprising the mysterious figure.
“Charlie!” You shrieked in surprise at the sight of her, crouched against the wall. Her eyes widened in shock, and she let out a shriek of her own. Her eyes darted around, before she pulled herself up to meet your gaze.
“Oh my gosh heyyyyy, I didn’t expect to see you here!” She mocked innocence.
“Bullshit,” you retorted, “I told you where I was going like three days ago. Why are you really here?”
Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she bit her lip. As if she was deciding whether to tell you the truth, or another lie.
Suddenly, she let go of the breath she held, her shoulders dropping in defeat.
“Okay.. the truth is, when you told me you were hosting an art class I was so thrilled! For you, of course. But then, I thought about how much you and my dad were getting along! Then, I thought about how you guys seemed to have the shared interest of art. So I.. told him about the class?”
“And?” You questioned, irritation lacing your voice. You really did not have time for this.
“And I told him about how you were still looking for a model, and you know how he is. He doesn’t have a problem doing things like that in front of people, and he’s getting better at being around people in general..”
You gripped Charlie by her shoulders when she trailed off again, shaking her.
“Spit it out! What about your dad?!”
“HE AGREED TO BE THE MODEL FOR YOUR CLASS BUT I HAD NO IDEA THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE NUDE UNTIL WE SHOWED UP BUT HE JUST SAID GOODBYE AND WALKED INTO THE BACK ROOM!!”
You stopped dead, your breath caught in your throat. You turned your head slightly, eyeing the classroom door.
“Your dad… is in there… naked?” You finally managed to get the sentence out, your gaze returning to Charlie in a look of disbelief.
This was a joke, right? There was noooo way you were going to walk in there a minute and see Lucifer there. This was just a terrible (-bly good?) dream.
Charlie nodded in defeat, her head hung low.
“I don’t even have the mental strength to go in there. I couldn’t stop him, even if I wanted to. He was dead set on this.”
You rubbed a hand along your face, gathering your thoughts.
“Well, there’s no stopping it now,” You said, rolling your shoulders in preparation, “Guess I have a class to teach.”
“Have fun..?” Charlie smiled innocently at you. Her plan was working, after all.
You shot her a glare before crossing the lobby once more, and pulled open the door. You stepped inside, breath hitched, and gently shut the door behind you.
In front of you, four older women sat behind easels with a blank white canvas attached. If they noticed your arrival, they didn’t show it. Instead, they giggled in the direction of the slightly lifted stage. You couldn’t see who was on the stage, but the familiar voice with giddy amusement told you exactly who it was.
“You’re finally here!” Lucifer called, and you did nothing but stand there for a moment.
Straightening your back, you exhaled a deep breath, and walked forward. Right past the stage. You kept your eyes in front of you, ignoring the golden gaze that trailed your figure.
You positioned yourself between the platform and the women who had finally stopped giggling and whispering to each other, and cleared your throat.
“Hello, everyone. I’m your instructor for today, unfortunately Renee couldn’t be here today. We’ll be going over the usual though, figure drawing with the model present today.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, before opening them with renewed energy.
Slowly, you turned on your heels and pivoted in the direction of the platform. Your eyes widening at the sight.
Before you, on a long, red couch lay the King of Hell. Lucifer Morningstar, in all his glory. Shirtless, with no pants in sight. Thankfully, a thin, barely-hiding-anything sheet covered his waist section.
You met his gaze, a playful smirk etched on his lips. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, gauging for a reaction.
You made sure not to give him one. If he thought he was going a reaction from you in front of all these people, he was wrong.
“Let’s start by doing a quick sketching exercise, take about ten minutes to do your best and draw the model in front of you. Once the timer goes off, we’ll review and go over some techniques, before switching to a much longer pose.”
You clicked the timer, and the faint ticking of its gears cemented you into reality.
“Is that Lucifer?” One of the ladies whispered to her friend a chair over. Her friend shrugged, “I have no idea.. but boy, is he handddssoomee.”
You pressed your lips together, trying to ignore their gossip.
Sitting in the chair farthest from the group, you crossed your arms, your gaze resting on the floor. Was he looking at you right now?
You sat there for a moment, before realizing you couldn’t ignore him forever. He was the model after all. Soon you’d have to be helping him change poses anyway.
You looked up, drinking in the view. He was lazily leaning against the back of the velvet couch,
His hair, with no hat to cover it, stuck to his face messily with sweat. As he adjusted his head, a few strands of curls fell in front of his eyes. His intense stare slightly masked.
Was the room getting hot, or was it just you?
His eyes were locked on you, that stupid smirk still on his face. You sent daggers back to him.
He replied with a wave of his fingers.
You refused to let yours eyes travel any farther than his face, not ready for what kind of images your mind would give you regarding what was underneath the sheet.
“Did you know the Renaissance was pretty famous for constantly expanding its artistic art forms?” A voice smooth as butter filled the silence.
What the hell was he doing?!
“Believe it or not, the naked human was a very big inspiration for many of their paintings. No sheet in sight.”
Some of the women perked up in interest at Lucifer’s words. You couldn’t tell if they were actually interested in what he had to say, or just to hear his voice as it commanded the room’s attention.
“For an era so virtuous,” He teased the last part, reminding you of your discussion days earlier, “They so did love their scandalous marble status.”
He let that sink in, and you rolled your eyes dramatically at him. You couldn’t believe this was how Charlie planned on setting the two of you up.
A candle lit romantic dinner? Nah. A trip to the movies? Boring, apparently.
Were you against the idea of getting closer with the ‘Big Boss of Hell’? Of course not! He made you laugh and was actually interested in your ideas. This was just not how you expected it to go down.
“Keep talking, pretty boy!” One called from behind her easel.
Before he could speak again, the timer shrieked in your palm. You shot up from your seat, clasping your hands together loudly.
You turned your back to Lucifer as you began instructing the class, showing them a few techniques on how to straighten their lines, and how to hold their pencil just the right way that would give them a much thicker line for specific parts of the body.
“Alright, now, we’re going to have the model switch positions.”
Grabbing the paper that held all the different poses, you held it out to him, your finger tapping against the specific one in question. It showed the figure in a front facing view, one hand closed in a fist supported their chin, the other tucked neatly underneath. As if they were listening intently to some hot gossip.
“I’m afraid I can’t see what‘s on the paper. Perhaps, if you come a little closer and show me?
You groaned internally, he was enjoying this too much. You strided over to him. His gaze followed you, his grin only widening as you closed in on where he laid.
“You need to turn facing them,” You commanded the King himself. He pivoted, his body fully facing the group of gawking onlookers. He gave them a wink, and they hid behind their easels, their whispers fast and beathless.
“Now, you have to move your arm.. like this.” You spoke, reaching out one hand. You hesitated for a minute. You’ve never been so.. upfront with like this.
Reaching down, you gently circled your fingers around his wrist. Slowly, you allowed your hand to slip down, reaching his forearm.
His body was hot to the touch, and you felt like melting right then and there. Maybe it was time just to accept defeat, this man was just too good looking.
You felt the muscles of his arms shift, and you halted for a half a second.
Did he just tense?
Maybe you weren’t the only one who could be teased.
You guided his arm forward, and then up. Sliding your fingers, ever so gently, around his knuckles. You squeezed, and his hand enclosed into a fist. You guided it underneath his chin.
“Touchy today, aren’t we?” He spoke quietly to you, his voice dripping with velvet allure as you positioned him as the image on the paper showed.
“You be quiet.” You scolded him, trying your best to bring on your most serious face.
His quiet chuckle in response made you drop the face instantly. It was obvious you were pretty bad at this kind of thing, at least compared to Lucifer.
You grabbed his other arm, and gently tugged it underneath. Letting it lay neatly below him.
Taking a step back, you admired your work.
You were going to return to your seat, before a thought crossed your mind. You took a step forward, closing in on Lucifer again.
“And one more thing…” You started.
Using two fingers, you grazed the bottom of his chin, firmly pressing upward. Instinctually, his head followed the motion. He met your eyes, his gaze intensifying.
“Good boy.” You teased, your voice laced with a hint of sultry satisfaction.
You didn’t miss his pupils dilating into slits and his breath hitching slightly. You just turned on your heels, not giving him a second glance before returning to your seat.
You tilted your head at him slightly, looking at him through your eyelashes. Your lips curling into a provocative smirk as you gripped the timer.
Maybe now this would be an even match.
“Begin.”
Time flew by once more, and this time, Lucifer refused to meet your gaze. Instead, he was purely focused on the easels in front him.
“Tell me, my dear artist,” He began, addressing the demon woman before him. Her eyes widened when she realized he was speaking to her.
“If we were back in the Renaissance, would I make quite the muse?”
“Pardon?” The lady asked timidly, her voice coming out in a whisper.
“How about a statue? Think about that. Tall, Marble-skinned, and… lacking this rather uncomfortable cloth.”
The woman’s face turned bright red. Her mouth opened and closed, her tongue refusing to cooperate. Lucifer knew how to play this game well.
Then, he turned his head to you.
“What about you, stranger? Would you think i’d look good in such a form?”
You crossed your legs, leaning back in your chair.
“If the statue could stay quiet, while the class finished their work. Then, perhaps.”
The angel huffed, averting his gaze. He blew a few strands of hair out of his face, before continuing his blank stare at the wall.
The timer in your palm rang once more. You lifted yourself out of the chair. This was it, the last pose.
You strided back to Lucifer, his smoldering gaze on your figure as you approached.
For this pose, he needed to be off his stomach. You weren’t going to roll him like a log, or go anywhere near his torso. That was too brazen of an act for you to commit to, at least with all the eyes on you. Instead, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the white sheet. You tugged with all your might.
With an oomph he rolled along with it, he shoulder blades digging into the cushions as he landed exactly where you wanted.
Before the ladies could get even a glimpse, you hurriedly adjusted the sheet back onto him.
“Impressive, bending the devil himself to your will.” He commented as you continued to adjust his arms.
Ignoring him, you moved onto his legs, positioning them slightly.
“Careful~” He chided.
You said nothing to that either. Once he was in the correct pose, you released him. You glanced at his hair, now messily covering his face.
You reached forward and, splaying your fingers, pushed his hair back behind his head. You let your nails softly graze his scalp before you tugged them free.
“Sorry, can’t have your curls covering your face for the girls back there.”
“I bet they wished they were in your position,” Lucifer hummed “Few rarely are.”
You chuckled softly, “Please, the view looks better from back there.”
He let out an audible “Ha!” as the words left your lips and you turned away from him once more. You knew that must’ve stung, sending a blow to the prideful king’s ego.
Thirty minutes went by as you sat there, you spent more time examining your hands than meeting the gaze of the angel across the room.
This had turned into quite an eventful class, you couldn’t lie. You also didn’t expect such a shameless attitude from Lucifer, he was much more timid back in your painting room. Perhaps there was a side of him you still had yet to meet.
To be honest, sitting here, watching the clock tick by, you were pretty surprised this man had managed to stay near-perfectly still these past few hours.
Another thirty, and the timer rang its last chime. You had been positioned behind the drawing ladies, giving them critiques on their work.
You ignored the fact it was Lucifer you kept staring at on their canvas, instead simply regarding it as charcoal lines in need of straightening.
You wished them farewell at the doorway as they left. You hoped they had at least a pleasant time, since they’d have at least a good story to tell to their girlfriends over the phone.
Shutting the door with a soft thud, you sat there for a moment before your shoulders dropped in exhaustion. You honestly weren’t used to that kind of atmosphere, since your work consisted of you alone in a quiet room all day.
Taking a few steps backwards farther into the room, your gaze landing on the couch atop the platform. It was empty. Your eyes widened, did Lucifer just leave you here?
You rushed out of the classroom and strode into the lobby, searching for any signs of him.
“Wow, that little sneaky piece of-”
“I’m right here.” Came a familiar voice behind you.
You jumped, whipping around to find Lucifer dressed fully. Hat and all. Now this is what you were used to. Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow.
“What was that back there?” You motioned to the room behind you.
“My daughter invited me to look good in front of people and I did an outstanding job, as usual.”
“As the model? You couldn’t have just used your position as King to get a spot behind the easel instead?”
Lucifer grinned widely, leaning back against the wall. Could this have been his plan, and not Charlie’s? Now you weren’t so sure.
“Unfortunately, not many of us have a skill as perfected as yours with a brush.”
You accepted that praise. You had worked hard for it.
“And, not many people have as great of a photogenic face as me. So, we’re square.”
You chuckled, shaking your head as you walked away. Lucifer kept pace as you both exited the studio, heading toward the curb.
“That reminds me,” Lucifer halted, reaching into his pocket to fish for something.
You stopped beside him, the mystery item in his coat pocket piquing your interest.
“I fixed it!” He held the the paint-vomiting rubber duck out to you, wiggling it in delight.
“You did?”
“That’s right. This bad boy can now pop out six different colors, you just have to pull its beak.”
“That actually really cool,” You laughed, taking the rubber toy from him. You turned it in your hands, maybe later you’d pretty it up with some fresh paint.
You looked up at him again, his golden eyes shimmering from the bright neon backdrop. You have much more to say to him, but your thoughts were jumbled from the day. There was one, though.
“You know, next time you should just ask.” You gripped the duck firmly in the palm of your hand, lowering your arm.
“Ask what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Luci. You’re telling me you hijacked my class because you had a change in career choice?”
His smile turned playful again, and he pivoted to face you, shrugging nonchalantly.
“Maybe, maybe not. That depends if i’ll be seeing you next week?” His eyes met yours with a questioning stare.
You gave him a warm-hearting smile, nodding your head.
“As always.”
His smile widened, and with a tap of his staff. Golden waves cascaded around you. It wasn’t cold, like Alastors. Instead, it was warm and relieving, like face planting into your pillows after an exhausting day.
As your vision began to obscure, you saw his face peak into the cascades of light, his hand reaching forward.
“I almost forgot.” His voice echoed, distorted by the magic as it circled them.
His hand enclosed around your own, and planted a kiss right onto your wrist. His lips lingered for a moment, as did his grip around your hand, as if your time together was too fleeting to let go.
You promised silently it wasn’t.
The light rushed over you suddenly, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to keep from being blinded. Lucifer’s touch vanishing with your sight.
Feeling your feet planting on solid ground, your eyes widened to familiar surroundings of the hotel lobby. You were home, and Lucifer was no where in sight.
“Hey, Hot Cakes!” Angel Dust called, still seated in the same spot at the bar, “How’d it go?”
——————
🤍 alright, let me know what you think of this!! your comments are appreciated, esp if you have any ideas on what to do next!
💜 the kisses are getting higher! part 3?
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astr0logywh0r3 · 4 months
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astrology observations ☽
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1.) moon conjunct pluto ppl have an intense relationship with their mother. it’s either a strong hate or a strong love. the mother could’ve been extremely overbearing to the point that the native felt suffocated at times. these people are very secretive with their emotions. it’s like their emotions are inside of a dark and mysterious treasure chest that only they know the key to. the intensity runs high. explosive emotions …outbursts. could have gone to a mental health facility once in their life or been diagnosed with mental disorders.
2.) ik ppl say scorpio ascendants are supposed to be all mysterious and intimidating but honestly i see a lot of them looking very: 🌸🍄🫧
3.) scorpio mercurys are pretty quiet
4.) aquarius moons be liking the things other people hate
5.) when someone starts annoying a scorpio moon they’ll just go and talk to someone else for a while. they’re vindictive
6.) i ain’t never seen a libra sun girl i didn’t find pretty in one way or another
7.) lilith in the 10th house and scorpio mc are super hot placements for someone to have imo. it makes someone seem mysterious and cool 💀 just a lot of sex appeal
8.) so many ppl wanna be impressing scorpio suns 😭
9.) if you got a lot of planets in the 10th house or are sun dominant …you like attention. period.
10.) venus conjunct mars people are so damn magnetic. they usually have a lot of relationships and date a lot of people
11.) 9th house placements love their freedom
12.) venus in the 10th house ppl give girl next door type of beauty to me. it’s a very girly and feminine type of prettiness. people admire them and wanna date them
13.) venus in the 8th house loves the femme fatale/witchy type aesthetic for themselves
14.) saturn in the 12th house can make someone feel really lonely and sad in their life
15.) jupiter in the 1st house/conjunct the ascendant ppl seem larger than life. like ..if you see a picture of them you might think theyre tall but then you realize they’re actually pretty short 💀
16.) sun square lilith women are intimidating and reckless. they do what they want when they want with who they want. speak their mind.
17.) lilith in sagittarius can be atheists and totally reject religion
18.) capricorn risings with the perfect dry humor 💀 they look cool and act cool
19.) virgo risings either have hella big doll eyes or small squinty eyes
20.) pisces suns …y’all walk funny 😭
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*🙃
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roaron · 1 year
Note
Okay, but what if THEY walk on you mastubating??
- OMG I was planning to do this and you just reminded me, thank you very much stranger for feeding into my delusions. i deadass can’t believe that this is how I spend my time. ENJOY (´∀`=)
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MHA boys catching you masturbating
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authors note - I tried to make this as gender neutral as I could so that everyone could read this without feeling left out and shit. hope I did y’all justice one again. ENJOY ! ALSO, thank you all for the submissions and request, im already working on like 10 !! they’ll be out really soon trust me :))
characters - (izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugo, shoto todoroki)
warnings - nsfw obviously
minors im onto y’all, either be sneaky or pick your ass up and get out this class yfm ☆
ENJOY (´∀`=)
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Izuku Midoriya
- as perfect as your boyfriend izuku was, he was a very busy man. crime didn’t fight itself and as the number 1 hero, he had a duty to protect. so after a tiring day of saving people, izuku comes home in hopes that you could both cuddle and he’d fall asleep in your arms.
- he makes his way to the bedroom and that’s when he begins to hear soft moans coming from inside the room. soft moans of HIS name.
- he quietly opens the door and the sight before him almost makes him drop to his knees. on your shared bed lies you with your legs wide open, a hand delving in and out of your hole, and another hand playing with your perky nipple as your head is flung back in satisfaction.
- the view in front of him, added to the pornographic sounds you were making drove him over the edge as he feels his pants tighten. he bites his bottom lip and his lids hang low over his eyes as he approaches you and sits at the corner of the bed, still going unnoticed.
- subconsciously he reaches a hand out towards you and strokes your leg, making you jump.
“I-IZUKU ?? OH MY GOODNESS !”
- you hastily attempt to grab a pillow to cover yourself but your boyfriend stops you right in your tracks, moving to tower over your naked form and pin your wrists down onto the bed.
“no no no, please don’t y/n. i really want to see.”
- he then let’s go of your wrists and moves away from you, sitting cross legged on the bed in front of you, staring at you intently before reaching a hand into his pants and resting it there.
- it takes you a moment before realising he’s waiting for you, only then do you continue touching yourself and that’s when you notice how he begins touching himself too.
Katsuki Bakugo
- it was starting to get lonely around the house, and it was only the second day that your boyfriend bakugo had left for his 2 week hero trip. you sulked for the entire day, missing his presence, the way he holds you, the way he kisses you. the way he touches you.
- just the thought of him touching you brings heat to your face. you rush to your shared room and begin to take off your clothes. first your robe, then your panties. a pretty pink one that bakugo had gotten you.
- you lie back on your shared bed and begin to work on the problem between you legs, stuffing yourself with your fingers and crying out your boyfriends name, pretending it was him fucking you.
- unknown to you, your boyfriend had just arrived home to tell you the trip was cancelled and that his friend izuku had taken care of it, knowing how bakugo doesn’t like being away from you.
- but as he walked through the door, the first thing that greets him is a loud moan of his own name. bakugo stands frozen and confused as to what was going on. he calls for you but there’s no response so his first instinct is to head towards the bedroom.
- he swings the bedroom door open and that’s when he sees you.
“oh my fucking god.”
- you immediately notice his voice and let out a cry, grabbing a pillow and covering yourself in complete and total embarrassment.
“k-katsuki, I didn’t know you were home..”
- you couldn’t believe what had just happened but when you looked up at your boyfriends face, you noticed him reaching down to pick up the pink panties you’d discarded on the floor. you shriek as he then makes his way over to you and stares deep into your eyes.
“really y/n. you couldn’t fucking wait.”
- you look away, unable to maintain eye contact but bakugo just grabs your face and snaps it so that you are forced to look at him. he looks from your eyes to your lips before pushing his mouth against yours, tearing the pillow you’d been holding away from you and replacing your hands between your legs with his own. hastily pumping his fingers inside of you, while swallowing all of your moans within the kiss.
“as much as I love you y/n, you really are a whore.”
Shoto Todoroki
- shoto had only left about an hour ago to go and spend the day with his family, trying to rekindle the bond between him and his father was no easy task, but he’d faced harder ones. being the number three hero and all. you were the one who convinced him to go and yet now you need him more than anything.
- you didn’t want to tell him how horny you were before he left, because you knew that he wouldn’t want to go with his family and would instead prefer to stay home and fuck you.
- you sigh to yourself and make your way to the bedroom you both share, preparing to spend your time touching yourself instead of having your gorgeous boyfriend have his way with you.
- now naked with you back against the headboard of the bed and with your hand buried between your thighs, you let out soft moans of shotos name, craving his love and his touch, you wished that he was here with you, praising you and kissing away your flaws.
- completely lost in your own pleasure, you fail to realise that shoto had returned home in search of you after having an argument with his father. you also failed to realise that he was in fact stood tall in the doorframe, staring at your shaking figure. his eyes staring at the wet mess between your legs and your needy fingers.
“y/n, my love.”
- you jump back to reality and notice your boyfriend standing in front of you, his head tilted upwards with his eyes staring downwards at you, almost in a degrading way. it only made you want him more.
“shoto, please come here.”
- not a second goes by before shoto is in front of you, kneeled on the bed awaiting your commands. he could switch between dominant and submissive so quickly, it’s one of the many things about him that drove you crazy.
- you shyly gestured to the space between your legs, and with that, shoto dipped his head down and put his mouth to work.
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star-girl69 · 4 months
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The Last Time
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader
—-
Part One - The Last Time
Part Two - Cowboy Like Me
Part Three - Tomorrow Never Came (coming soon!)
Part Four - Living Legend (coming soon!)
Part Five - Pretty When You Cry (coming soon!)
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synopsis: the last night you spend with clarisse before she goes on a quest
a/n: had to put my own take on the clarisse leaving reader behind to go on a quest SORRY Y’ALLLLL this is like devastating fr tho i’m kinda sorry like 😭
The Last Time - Taylor Swift (Feat. Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol)
warnings: angst, like so much angst i’m gonna say it 5 times, angst angst angst angst angst, angst, hurt comfort and also hurt NO comfort bc i’m evil, kissing, cutesy until it’s not but it never really is, i felt like choosing pain, y’all should start calling me she-devil this is just so mean and evil, swearing, fighting, allusions to death, daddy issues lol, tell me if i missed anything!!
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June 4, 12:08 PM
It’s a cold summer night. You sneak out of your bed, sheets slipping off of your shaking body, the same memories playing in your mind. It always comes down to this, the nights.
In the dreams, she doesn’t come back to you, and the nights without her are so cold, so lonely, so horrible you can stand it. They’re only in your mind, but they hurt just as bad. It’s not every night you slip into each others beds, but whenever you have a nightmare, you find your way to hers. Whenever she has a nightmare, she finds her way to yours.
You both have nightmares about the same things.
The usual cryptic prophesies, the various monsters you just can’t seem to kill, and losing each other. Demigods die. They die easily. You both know that.
Some people swear off love.
And Clarisse told you she wishes she could, she wishes she could pretend you aren’t her entire heart, but she never had a choice. You are her Achilles heel, her one weakness.
You couldn’t either. You took one look at the beautiful daughter of Ares and never looked back again.
Still, there’s a certain desperation in every demigod relationship. Touches are just a bit tighter, hugs a bit longer. Because you all have lost so much, and you all feel absence heavily. Every time could be the last time.
Your footsteps creek against the porch of the Ares cabin. You open the door only a crack, slipping in silently the way you always do, avoiding the creaky floorboards.
Clarisse is awake in her bed, the corner of the cabin. She’s staring at the moon fiddling with her fingers. You frown, but Clarisse turns to you.
You’re sure you look as wrecked as you feel.
“Oh, baby,” she murmurs. “C’mere, what happened?”
You always ask each other, but you both know.
You crawl towards her, sitting in between her legs, arms around her neck, head pressed to her chest. She holds you up so you don’t have to. You can’t, not right now.
She kisses your forehead and her hand smooths down your hair.
“You went on a quest,” you whisper. You miss the way she stiffens. “You didn’t come back.”
She doesn’t tell you she’s not going on a quest. She doesn’t tell you she’s going to come back.
“I’m here,” she says. “Do you feel my heart? I’m here, and I feel yours. It’s beating so fast, baby, you have to take a deep breath.”
Tears well in your eyes. You dig your nails into her soldiers.
“Oh, Gods, please don’t leave me,” you cry.
She doesn’t tell you she won’t.
“I’m here, I’m here right now. I’m here right now, listen to my heart, baby, listen to my heart.”
Clarisse swallows back the bile in her throat. She tries not to lie to you, she tries. But sometimes, on cold summer nights when you find your way into her bed, and she doubts you’ll remember this in the morning-
“I’ll always be here, Y/N. I’ll always be here.”
—-
June 11, 5:46 PM
If you thought the nights without Clarisse were bad, then the days are even worse. You miss her. You never realized how much she was there, silently, always watching, not until you told her to stay away from you.
You sit at the dinner table, the sun setting. Most of your siblings have left- but you’re here with May, sitting there as she watches you like a hawk and interrogates you.
“You haven’t been the same. Not since, like, last week. And something happened with Clarisse, it’s obvious. I gave you a few days because I thought you were just having a fight, but you’re not.” She sighs and grabs your hands. “What happened?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” you dismiss. She stares at you with such heartbreak in her eyes.
May is the sibling you’re by far the closest with- you like similar things, and people sometimes think you’re actual full-blooded siblings because you look so alike. She was the first person you ever met at Camp Half Blood, and after Clarisse, she’s the first person you run too. But now that Clarisse is leaving, and she’s already gone, May is all you have left.
You squeeze her hands. Your best friend, you want to tell her, but saying the words aloud makes them real.
She’ll find out tomorrow.
—-
June 8, 10:57 AM
She tells you privately, she smiles softly and leads you into the woods, she holds your hands and touches your face and kisses you like she’s not about to break your heart.
“Why are you bringing me out here?”
You know her like your own mind. You spend so much time with Clarisse, next to her, it’s like you have a window to her heart tattooed on your arm. You know, even when she doesn’t want you to.
“I just have something to tell you. And I wanted privacy.”
She doesn’t tell you it’s not a bad thing.
Your stomach sinks and you hold her hand tighter, and even though she’s about to break your heart she kisses your cheek and squeezes your hand.
“Just you and me, pretty girl. I just wanna talk, okay?”
She leads you to a clearing with a beautiful view of the strawberry fields and you smile, sitting down and letting your face feel the sun. You can feel her looking at you, but the beauty of this place and each other only blinds the two of you temporarily.
“Okay, what do you have to tell me?”
There’s stones in your stomach. Your heart is squeezing, you can physically feel the tension and anticipation in your organs.
You look in her eyes and you pray to every God that it’s nothing.
“I love you, you know that?”
Clarisse never says I love you, and your stomach twists more.
“Of course I know.”
She lays down on her back and opens her arms. She sighs when you lay your arm over her stomach, head on your chest. Her hands grip onto you tight.
She doesn’t speak for another minute, like she’s just soaking you and the sunshine up, like it’s the last she’s ever gonna get.
“Chiron… a week ago, I think, he called me to the Big House.” You hum, staring at the treetops. “Him and Mr. D… they… uh.”
“You can tell me,” you pretend you aren’t scared.
“A quest,” she blurts. “They have a quest for me.”
“Oh,” you mumble, stupidly.
A quest could mean a million different things. It could be an errand for Chiron and Mr. D, or it could be something preordained by the Fates.
She could have a choice or she could not.
“It’s three children of Ares. It’s about some sort of ancient blood feud between my father and- it doesn’t matter. But it- it doesn’t look good-”
You sit up. She follows you, eyes wide, hands splaying around where your body used to be on hers.
“‘It doesn’t look good’? Clarisse, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
She grabs your hands. “It’s dangerous, like any quest-”
“It’s not like any quest though, is it?”
She presses her lips together. “No. No, it’s not.”
“You didn’t accept it, did you?”
She stares into your eyes.
She looks so pretty today, her hair half-up half-down. Her eyes always shine so brightly in the sun- they reflect it. Sunny days with her make your heart squeeze, because it always looks like she’s got suns for eyes.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, I am-”
You tear your hands away from her.
“Why- why would you- Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, why would you do this?”
You cry, and she reaches for you, her face twisting into something painful. But how can she expect you to run to her when she’s the one hurting you?
“Just- just not right now. Not until the 13th, let’s just have this together, okay?”
“How, Clar, how?”
She grabs your hands and doesn’t let you pull away.
“My father asked for me, he asked for me. I have to go. I can’t refuse my father, Y/N-”
You rip your hands away. “He doesn’t care about you, Clarisse. But I do. I care about you.”
She rubs her temples with one hand, the other still reaching for you, eyes screwed shut.
“Please don’t be like this. Don’t be selfish, I have to this. He asked for me, Y/N. This is such a huge step-”
“A huge step to him loving you? He’ll never love you. Our parents will never love us, because they’re incapable of caring about us. But you have me, Clarisse. You have me, and I love you so much-”
“You don’t know that,” she whispers. “You don’t know they can’t love us.”
“And neither do you.”
She reaches out to touch the tears falling down your face.
“Clarisse, please,” you cry. “I’m here. I’m always here, and just- just don’t put your father over me, please don’t, not anymore-”
She grabs your face. “I’m not going to choose between you and him.”
You’re full on sobbing now, and Clarisse never cries, but just the look on her face at seeing you cry makes you cry more.
“But I’m here, Clar, I’m here, I’ve always been here, please-”
She shushes you and tries to hug you, but you can’t, not when your mind is spinning to fast, not when you want nothing more than to be in her arms because you know if she just holds you then you’ll shut up and forget. But you can’t, you can’t, not this time.
Not when all the pieces are sinking together.
The only time you see her is when you sneak into each others beds, dates in the woods, secret looks across the courtyard, pulling each other into the bathrooms or sheds or something to make out.
You needed her so bad you didn’t realize that you were never first. You didn’t care, but at least she was still there.
“Did you even think about me when you said yes?”
She tries to hug you again. You stand on shaky legs.
“Y/N,” she whispers, half-broken, half-disbelief. “Don’t do this.”
“I just need a day,” you say, but you both know what this means.
She laughs, runs her hand through her hair.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this. Fuck, I know it’s not perfect, we’ve never been perfect, but I need you right now. Don’t walk away. Don’t be like that.”
“And if I asked you not to walk away? If I asked you not to be like that?”
“I’m not being like anything!” she yells. “You’re the one who’s being a selfish brat.”
You cross your arms and look at her. You want the ground to swallow you whole. You want to jump into her arms and never leave.
“Don’t, okay. Just don’t. Stay, and we’ll talk, I’ll try, you know I’m not good at this but I want to try, we have to try for us.”
“Clarisse, there’s no us anymore. You’re leaving.”
“Not until the 13th, Y/N. We could have something so good if we just… pretend.”
You could play pretend with her for hours. You could be married and you could live in a place where no monsters can touch you, where there’s no one to hide from. Where there’s no memory of her father, no axe hanging over you.
“I don’t want to pretend. I want you.”
But it’s Clarisse. It’s the girl you love, and you’re young so you believe you can fix this.
“Don’t go,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.
You’re both glaring at each other, stupid teenage girls who fell in love too hard too fast, and now you’re scrambling at the world changes around you. You love her so much, but you finally realized that she doesn’t care about you, you’re her secret, and you haven’t had a backbone for so long but you will have one now.
“He asked for me. I already accepted. I need you right now, so stop being selfish and accept it.”
“How am I being selfish? How am I being selfish for not asking you to kill yourself? For asking you to put me first, for once?! You never put me first. I see that now. You never-”
She scoffs. “We both know that’s not true.”
“But I don’t, Clar. I don’t know that’s not true. So tell me, show me, make me believe it’s not true-”
She crosses the distance between you, even though it feels like a thousand miles, and plants her hands on your face. She kisses you, she kisses you like she loves you but not enough to stay.
But you kiss her back. You kiss her back, because she’s the love of your life. You’ll always come back like a kicked dog, like a ball on a chain. You’ll always come back to her like you go back to your bed each night- mindlessly, wordlessly, because it’s routine. Because you sleep in your bed and you need sleep to live, you need her to live.
She pulls back, breathing heavily against your lips.
“You are the only person who matters to me.”
Your grab her wrists and take her hands off your face. She tries to resist you, keep touching you, but it’s halfhearted because she’ll always end up doing the little things that you want.
“Only because the Gods aren’t people.”
“Y/N, stop.”
“Why do you go back to him? Why? Again and again, you go back even though he feels nothing for you- and you know it-”
She steps back, takes your hands off of her wrists.
“I-I’m sorry,” you breathe, you see the hurt on her face. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t, it’s just, I love you-”
She blinks and stares at you like you just broke her favorite toy.
“I-I should go.”
You want her to say something, you want her to protest, you want her to kiss you again.
“Maybe you should,” she agrees. “Before we both say more things we’ll regret.”
Her face twists back into what she lets everyone else see, that hard mask of indifference, of cruelty and ruthlessness.
How can she hold you so tenderly and look at you like this? How can you pretend you’re still the girl she loves when the fog clears and you realize what you said?
“Yeah.”
You turn and leave the clearing, you can’t look at her hurt face anymore, tears streaming down your face. Clarisse stays there. You swear you hear the sound of muffled crying.
—-
June 12, 3:46 PM
Chiron announces the quest. It’s dangerous, that’s what he says, and he didn’t want to cause commotion in the camp by letting it come to light.
Are you horrible for wishing you had found out now? You would have had this untainted time with Clarisse. You would have loved her. You wouldn’t have had to pretend, because it would be real.
She’s selfish at every turn. She only tells you when it’s convenient for her to tell you, when she knows it’ll ruin it, ruin you, and lose this time together.
Her and her siblings stand next to Chiron.
She stares at you the entire time, and you don’t look at her once.
May hugs you when she hears, and you don’t speak, because how can you speak when everything is wrong? Everything is broken?
The mirror is broken, and what you thought you saw is no longer there. You only see your shattered self.
—-
June 13, 12:38 PM
You lasted maybe 20 minutes. You went to bed early, slept fitfully for a few hours, and woke up gasping about another nightmare- the same one you had the last time you slipped into Clarisse’s bed. You barely remember the nights you have nightmares, but you always know you go to her bed and she holds you, tells you it’s alright.
The dream, anxiously waiting for her to come back, spending your nights alone but warmed by anticipation and hope- and she just doesn’t. She doesn’t, and it all becomes dark and dull in the dreams and they turn into nightmares.
You cry and you scream and you curse the Gods for not bringing her back to you, but no one can hear you. You’re laying in your bed screaming and your siblings are gone, you know Clarisse is, and you feel so alone.
Feeling so alone it makes your bones shaking is terrifying. And you should be used to it. But you got used to Clarisse and her warm body. You got used to her touches, her words, the way she made you feel even just being in her bed- you could always sleep in her bed because she was there.
After she leaves, would anyone notice if you snuck into her bed? Would anyone notice if you laid your head on her pillow and pretended it was her chest? Would anyone notice if you slept in the shirts she left behind?
You last 20 minutes staring at the ceiling before you’re up.
You don’t care if Chiron will catch you. You don’t care if the entire camp will see you, you never did, but a private relationship was nice. It was yours and hers and no one else’s.
Private is different from secret.
Your feet sink into the soft grass, wrapping your arms around yourself, legs freezing in a cold breeze. You stop, looking at the Ares cabin.
The Ares cabin is just a house full of the best fighters at camp. Everyone looks at it and feels a little safer. You look at it and feel safer.
You’re filled with dread but you don’t care, because you know she’ll let you in, you know she’ll let you into her arms.
The door to the Ares cabin whips open.
Clarisse is there, feet turned left, toward you and your cabin behind you.
She stops and stares.
“Sorry,” you breathe. “It’s your last night, and I…”
“I know,” she says.
You step forward, all you want is to forget, all you want is one more peaceful night. As soon as you step up onto the porch Clarisse grabs you and pulls you in tight for a hug.
Her hands are spread wide across your shoulder blades, her body is pressed to yours, her head hooks over your neck.
“You’re so cold,” she whispers, because that’s all you can say when you don’t want to talk about the things that really matter. Of course she’s warm. She’s like your own personal heater, always warm and always comforting.
She lets go after a moment, hesitantly, but winds your fingers into hers. She leads you to your bed, you avoid the freaky floorboards better than her-
“I never have to be quiet in here,” she whispers. “It’s funny.”
You hum, she urges you onto her bed and climbs in behind you. You face the wall, breathing in heavily, shivering as she wraps herself around you. You didn’t realize how cold you were until she was holding you.
You didn’t realize how damaging this relationship was until you were so wrecked by it.
You didn’t realize how much you loved her until she was leaving.
You can feel her wanting to say something.
“Shut up,” you mumble, holding her hand.
She laughs.
“Okay, whatever you want.”
You remember this might be the last time you’ll ever hear her laugh.
This might be the last time she ever holds you.
“Don’t cry, please,” she begs, kissing the back of your head. “If I can’t talk you can’t cry, I hate when you cry.”
“I can’t,” you breathe, shoving your face into her pillow.
“Hey, hey,” she murmurs, flipping you around so you’re facing each other. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
You don’t think she’s ever apologized this much in her life.
“It hurts me too,” she continues, you press your face into her neck and feel yourself exhale against her warm skin. “If it didn’t have to be like this…”
“It doesn’t,” you mumble. “It doesn’t have to be like this, so don’t let it, Clarisse.”
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she whispers, her voice cracking just a bit. So quiet only you can hear it because you’re pressed up right against her.
You want to just climb into her, make a home for yourself in between her ribs where you could always feel her heartbeat and always know she’s there.
“Can’t I just come with you?” you cry.
She grabs you a little tighter, like she’s annoyed just by the thought of you being in danger. “No, Y/N. No, you’re going to stay here at camp, and you’ll be safe. I made my siblings promise to look after you, you’ll be okay without me-”
Her siblings are the only ones who know, but that’s only because every once in a while Clarisse won’t let you leave and you’ll oversleep and they’ll see you in her bed.
She swears them all to secrecy and as their cabin leader and their sister, a fellow child of Ares who’s doomed to want someone they can’t have, doomed to hide in the shadows- there’s so many campers who sneak into the Ares cabin at night, and you all ignore it.
There is a certain desperation with demigods and love. Every time could be the last time.
You wish you could swear off love, you wish you could, but Clarisse has you so wrecked you can’t breathe without thinking about her. You run on her, like she’s coffee or sunshine, she’s the IV stuck into your arm, and you don’t want to imagine living without her.
You think of a future without her and it’s just blank.
She holds you tighter and let’s you cry, louder and louder, muffled into her neck. She says she’s sorry but she doesn’t mean it, she can’t, and you don’t care. You can’t care, not right now, not when this is the last time.
“But I’m here right now, okay? I’m here right now, so just listen to my heart.” You grab onto her, trying to keep her here with you- but she won’t. She’ll go. She’ll leave you, and there’s nothing you can do.
You realize with such a startling finality that this is the last time. How deeply you feel it in your heart, not a pain but just an ache, an emptiness- it’s almost beautiful how it washes over you like a wave, like your heart stops and you’re just left a shell.
You breathe in wildly, but you can’t catch your breath, not when she’s half-here, you’re stuck in this hazy reality. Fading in and out. Her heartbeat. Her breath. Her touch. Her voice.
“I’m here right now,” she says. “I’m here right now,” and it’s the last time.
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss
—-
DID WE HAVE FUN OR DID WE HAVE FUN?!?!??!??
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fungusgnat444 · 2 months
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König being desperate for escort reader :(
Couldn’t stop thinking about this so i had to burden y’all with my brain rot. NSFW, angst kinda?, desperate touch starved König, he’s kinda subby hehe, afab fem reader, sugar daddy/pay pig shit if you squint, mentions of anxiety and poor self worth, implied size difference, oral f receiving, piv sex (no mentions of protection but always wrap it up y’all), begging, no german apart from schatz, big pp, decryphilia kinda? (He cries because you taste good lol), i think thats it. Let me know if i missed anything
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he’s so nervous the first time you meet. Always asking for permission and being so gentle and needy. He’s been lonely for so long, of course you’ll let him bury his face between your soft pillowy tits after he’s begged so politely, won’t you, schatz? Just sits you in his lap and snuggles deep in your chest while he thanks you again and again and tells you how precious you are :(. And his poor neglected cock is so so hard the whole time, throbbing against your plump ass. He whimpers so sweetly every time it pulsates. But he won’t let you touch it because he feels like he doesn’t deserve it. He just paws and gropes at your pretty little body all night until he falls asleep between your tits. Leaving you so wet and needy, squirming against him but the stupid man is fast asleep, mumbling incoherent shit in german :(
He has more money than he knows what to do with so he spends it all on spoiling his favourite call girl. Sometimes just takes you to the mall and gives you his card to spend on whatever you want. All the poor boy wants is to hold your hand the whole time while you waste all his money. Blushing whenever you buy something extra expensive. “Are you sure that’s all you want, schatz?”, he's just so desperate to please you. Always carrying all your bags, following you around like an oversized puppy dog, getting so sad whenever you say that you’re done shopping. Gets so painfully hard when you try on all your new clothes for him :( poor thing doesn’t know what to do with himself.
takes him several meetings to touch you properly but once he finally does he’s a fucking mess. Lapping at your sweet little cunt so greedily while his eyes fill with tears. Your poor clit gets so sore and sensitive from his needy tongue. He’ll go at it for hours until you're quivering and whimpering. You try to pull him away by his curly ginger hair. But he gets so whiny and looks up at you with the most desperate, pleading eyes. Begging you for just a little longer. He always makes such a mess :( won’t give you his big stupid cock until you’re practically begging him. But he just can’t stand the thought of disappointing you.
insists that you ride him because he's so scared he’ll hurt you. He’s so ridiculously big your poor little pussy can’t take him all. There’s always at least an inch sticking out of you while he's whimpering and sobbing into your tits. You’re so full you barely have the strength to bounce on him. He holds your hips and helps you move up and down while he apologises so desperately for hurting you (don’t worry he’s not, he just feels so bad for your poor little body. He feels so disgusting and weak :( ) Just can’t stop himself from sucking on your tits so greedily while you mewl so weakly into his neck. He loses all knowledge of the English language when he’s inside you. You never know what the hell he’s saying but he can’t stop himself from babbling.
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