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helluvapoison · 3 months

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Saw your preening hcs!!! They're so cute, I love the way you write!!!

How about the same characters helping a reader preen their wings? That would be so awesome :3333

Lend A Helping Hand

Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie and Husk help reader with preening

warnings: possible innacurate bird knowledge, heaven headcanons (also probably innacurate) illusions to sexual behavior but it’s not

[i]

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Seeing you uncomfortable physically hurts him, he has a knee jerk reaction to clutch his heart

• Lucifer’s preemptive when it comes to you, checking your wings around the same time he feels his wings molt

• Dramatically smacks a hand to his forehead, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice! Shit! Oh, duckie, I’m so sorry.”

• Praises you the whole way through, like you’re undergoing a dangerous surgery while wide awake

• Obscenely gentle when handling your wings

• You’ll receive only the utmost care from him!

• That being said, he gets distracted towards the end. Petting your feathers, admiring their color

• “You’re so prett—pretty feathers! You have pretty feathers! Aha.” Lucifer’s nervous chuckle fades as he focuses once more

• He’s more than thorough, quadruple checking his work and asking if you feel better yet

• (Tell him he did a good— no, a great job)

• “A thousand times better, thank you,”

• “Just a thousand?” Lucifer grins cheekily

• “Alright, alright, a million. And here I was worried you’d get a big head over it.”

˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• “Sucks, amiright?” His voice lacks any sympathy.

You’re sure if you looked, he’d be wearing that punchable smirk

“Go. Away.”

“Yikes, tense much?”

Normally you had more patience than this. Today you were in no mood, whipping around and shooting him a deadly glare

“Adam!”

• Surrendering his hands, Adam turns and leaves, swearing that would be the end of it until your bitchiness subsided

• It’s not like it bothers him to see your nose scrunch in pain or dragging your hands down your face in irritation

• He blames you for turning him into a liar

• “If you make it weird—!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll hit me or something. Try being original next time. Now shut up so I can help you. Fuck, you’re just as bad as Lute.”

• Adam is eerily silent. In the mirror you can see his tongue poking out in concentration

• He’s uncharacteristically soft when handling your feathers

• “There,” He dusts his hands together, “Now you can’t say Adam never did nothin’ for you.”

• Fucking flabbergasted when you thank him. Outloud. Oh, you’re never living this down

˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Treats the matter like an inconvenience, a chore that just has to be done

• “If I don’t help you, we’ll never get back on schedule,” Lute’s tone leaves no room for arguments

• Her hands shoving into your shoulders and forcing you to sit before her

• Despite this, her touch alone is mercy on your wings

• You didn’t know she knew the meaning of the word gentle until now

• Lute is diligent in all she does

• For the briefest, most minuscule of moments she thinks she has a grasp on sin. As innocent as it is, she’s not supposed to be helping you

• She won’t let you ruin her reputation

• She doesn’t dare let her fingertips linger on your feathers (no matter how loudly they sing to her)

• Lute acts as if you’ve burned her when she’s done

• “Thank—“ She’s already storming away, cheeks glowing red. From anger, embarrassment or other, you’ll not find out today, “—you.”

˚✧₊⁎ Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Honestly, she wasn’t going to offer at first

• Vaggie would prefer to forget about her time in Heaven altogether and helping you with your wings proves triggering, though not so terrible she can’t

• Not when the need to help outweighs her guilt

• You look so damn pitiful!

• “Here, hold still,” Vaggie sighs softly as she approaches

• She waits for you to go relax and accept the offer hanging in the air before touching your wings

• Vaggie’s touch is sweet and hesitant, almost treating your feathers like you’re made of porcelain

• “You ok?” She asks as she twists her fingers around the hardened shell, breaking the pin feather

• You smile at her over your shoulder, “Yeah. You’re much better at this than me.”

• Vaggie breathes out a light laugh, “I’ve had more practice. It’s… easier with someone else too, I guess.”

• Significantly less nervous when she’s done

•Next time, she’ll definitely offer her assistance sooner

˚✧₊⁎ Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• He startles you, making you jump when you thought you were alone

• Husk, although he’ll deny it to his double death, made it his job to pay attention to people he cares about

• Watching you walk around uncomfortable, teetering the edge of all too familiar pain was hard to ignore

• “I know those things can be a real bitch.” He points with the bottle he’s holding

• “Are you trying to be sympathetic or stating a fact?”

• “I’ve been around the block a few times,” Husk shrugs, “And I might be offering my services if you need ‘em. Not just good for listening.”

• He almost regrets it when you immediately accept. He looks at his claws, tainted by alcohol and who knows what else, then your wings

• Washes his hands before. Which strikes you as odd because you’ve seen him use a dirty rag to clean glasses at the bar

• He might be qualified but surely you have someone more deserving willing to help you? Someome nicer, someone cleaner, someone better than him?

• Husk isn’t complaining! It’s just his inner thoughts making his hands tremble

• “I owe you a drink for this,” You say sweetly

• Husk hums out a laugh, “Nah. It’s my pleasure,”

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ thank you so mochi, friend! i’m glad you liked them, you read my mind too and gave me an excuse to write these hehe

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar headcanon #lucifer morningstar imagine #hazbin hotel adam headcanon #hazbin hotel adam imagine #hazbin hotel adam x reader #lute imagine #lute headcanon #lute x reader #vaggie imagine #vaggie headcanon #vaggie x reader #husker x reader #husk imagine #husk headcanon #husk x reader

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clandestineloki · 9 months

Text

miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader (p2)

part 2 to this

miguel rolls you over on your back and takes your wrists in his hand, kissing your fingers and smiling up at you

it may be a sincere, sweet smile, but you're very flustered because this is your very attractive husband mind you

and you're still blushing like a schoolgirl when he looks at you with hearts in his eyes!!

he laughs softly at your flustered expression, and he just makes you even more embarrassed by spreading ur thighs open and licking his lips.

and he eats you up literally bc he bites down on your thigh like ur a little bun of bread, with the chomp noise and all >:(

then he goes n leaves a huge bite like the vampire daddy he is and then kisses it better, leaving a hickey and riling you up n making you whine

he is so mean!! but hes also calling u a good little wife so u're feeling very floaty <33

then his hands knead ur breasts and you whimper, so sensitive after the bath to the point where a brush of his skin against yours makes you super wet between ur legs poor babyy

and miguel notices that and bites his lip. you're such a needy baby, aren't you, gatita?

u never wanna admit it, but that's okay, he'll just prove it by fucking you so good you go dumb <33

so he gets to work on the fountain of youth between your legs

licks a fat stripe up your cunt and makes you twitch and shiver

stay still, baby, he mumbles against ur pussy, lean back, let daddy enjoy his favorite dessert~

fuck you taste so sweet, gatita, you got daddy wrapped around your little finger, mm?

you really have no idea how sexy you are :((

he licks up all your juices and laughs when he feels your thighs shaking, and just keeps eating his lovely wife out like she's his last meal

then when he feels your little hole clenching down, just so desperate to be filled

he shoves two fingers in and grins when you scream in pleasure, coming as he curls his fingers up into your cunt as you squirt all over his face <3333

pulls his fingers away and licks up the mess on his hand

then he holds his fingers out to you like "wanna taste"

n you're like "eww no" and he bursts out laughing

"more for me then hahaha- ow! dont hit me gatita"

he's disgusting...ly charming omg

u turn on ur side facing away from him but he pushes u on your back again

did you think he was done with you?? oh no no

he sinks in, no more prep needed since he got u sooooo needy and even his teasing made you so flustered nd aroused

"ah, such a cute little plaything, letting me fuck her as i please, you like when i tease you dont you bebita<3"

you whimper and turn ur head away, but he goes no no babyy i wont tease anymore, my pretty wife just look at me please?~

you turn ur head back to him and he grins, thrusting even harder

"ahh that's it baby~" he grunts, pinning your wrists to the side and kissing your neck sloppily.

"d-daddy!" you whine, squirming under his weight and he laughs

"don't run from me, bebita, we both know your pretty pussy loves me, doesnt it~?"

and he rubs ur little clit and makes you scream and go dumb from bliss

then he goes even harder, overstimulating u, but when you can't hear him, he whispers so many sorrys and i love yous because he knows he doesnt deserve such a pretty little wife who lets him do whatever he wants with her :((

but he hears you slur out, "i love you" and he kisses you passionately, both his and your doubts gone because this moment is all you two needed to calm down

then he wraps the two of you up in the blankets in a spooning position and kisses you goodnight n cradles you in his arms

but not before he slips his cock in u again >:))

he makes you sleep that way cockwarming him

and as a reward u wake up to the feeling of him lazily thrusting into you <3

#soft dom miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel x reader

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yellowharrington · 2 months

Text

wildflower and barley -- joel miller x reader

pairing + fandom: joel miller x reader, the last of us (hbo)

word count: 5k+ oops

warnings/notes: smut smut smut!!! minors DNI, 18+!!! no outbreak!au. age gap (it's implied reader is in her 20s while joel is 45) and mentions of joel being kinda perverted and liking it lol. drinking (both reader and joel, not excessive), use of a dating app like tinder but not specified, unprotected PIV w creampie and oral (m+f receiving), do not fuck your tinder hookups without protection i'm just horny and gross. excessive use of darlin' as a nickname. implied that reader likes men. she/her pronouns used, afab!reader (with mentions of body parts), no use of y/n. if i missed anything lmk!

a/n: heavily inspired by this post by @yesttoheaven about joel's tinder profile!! it has been rotting my brain since i saw it which literally inspired me to write my first fic in the tlou fandom ever so please be gentle with me. i imagined show!joel because i've never played the game so do with that what you will. please reblog and leave comments if u enjoy it <3333

divider by @cafekitsune

summary: after deciding to change your age range on a dating app in hope of a change of scenery, you stumble across joel miller.

No one likes using dating apps.

Swiping left, left, left mindlessly at troves of men holding fish, showing off their trucks, or with deer heads mounted to the walls behind their selfies holding guns.

This was Texas, after all.

Having just moved here, it was a little shocking, to say the least. But you were getting used to the “eligible” bachelors that were your age generally looking and acting the same. When you did end up finding someone of interest, you were usually turned off pretty quickly by whatever shitty pick-up line they had chosen. Or, your personal favourite, “wanna fuck?”

No thanks.

It was an idyllic summer evening, the hot stuffy air of Austin flowing in through your windows. You laid in bed, propped up on the pillows against your headboard and sorting through the faces that adorned your screen. No one particularly interesting, as usual, and every profile was starting to melt together to look the same.

You sighed, looking into your settings, adjusting and increasing different metrics to hopefully change the pool just enough for there to be someone new or interesting.

Age range: 25-30

Your eyebrow cocked as you looked onto the screen, pulling the slider more to the right experimentally. No one was here to see you, and even though it was slightly embarassing to be interested in older men, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t pique your interest to imagine it. Even just to try, and see, if they ever really did grow up. You imagined it was wishful thinking, but increased the range anyways.

Age range: 35-45

Feeling the need to throw your phone across the room after doing that, you placed it face down under your pillow and slid out of bed. No use in swiping through them now, and you were getting tired of looking. A pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a new episode of your favourite show was waiting for you downstairs.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Joel Miller does not use dating apps.

He barely knows how to send a text on his phone, let alone navigate the world of online women. Not to say he didn’t explore the options, so to speak, but they usually were not ones that were single, his age, and in his area. Unless the ads on those sites were real, that is.

“It’s starting to get sad,” Sarah had remarked at breakfast, when they got on the topic, and Joel feigned hurt. Hand over his heart, he dropped his fork onto the plate. “It’s not sad, Jesus. I’m just busy, is all.”

“Busy not gettin’ busy,” Sarah remarked, and Joel’s eyes widened. “Hey now! None of that.”

A blush spread up his cheeks and ears as they continued to eat breakfast in slightly awkward silence, before Joel took his plate to the sink. “Okay, off to school, you. And no more conversations about my dating life. Ever.”

Sarah laughed as she finished off the last of the juice in her glass. “I’m just saying, dad. You can if you want to. Might be nice for you.”

Joel planted a soft kiss to her head before she bounded out the door, rolling his eyes and calling out a ‘love you’ before she closed the door swiftly behind her. Joel stared at his cell phone on the table. Maybe it would be nice.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

The following evening, you were a little too excited to see the dating app specimens you had acquired. Not sure what to expect, really, and you went in with no expectations. It’s not like they’d magically all be tall, dark, and handsome, but some variety never killed anybody.

Paul, 41

Daddy, but not yours. No libs allowed. 6’ because that matters.

You sighed deeply. Some things never change.

After swiping through much of what you were used to, a profile managed to catch your eye among the sea of disappointment.

Joel, 45

Just a Southern gentleman trying this out for the first time. Contractor of over 10 years. I love my daughter, BBQ, strong coffee, and sleeping in.

Now that was the most interesting thing you’d seen in a while.

He didn’t look a day over 40. His eyes creased at the corners when he smiled wide in his photos. He looked tan, a product of the Texas heat and his job, you thought. His features were accompanied by salt-and-pepper facial hair and messy curls that looked soft and pliable. His photos showed off his physique incredibly, tight wash-worn t-shirts pulling over his arms and shoulders, looking big, broad. He was no doubt the most handsome man you’d seen on an app, maybe ever.

When you swiped right before you could think too hard, you were surprised to see the green “Match!” Flash across your screen.

Your fingers ghosted over the keyboard on your phone, thinking of a witty thing to say, probably for too long.

Your phone buzzed as you saw a notification pop up.

Joel has sent you a message.

Hey, darlin’. How are ya?

You felt your face warm at the sweet message, when was the last time someone had called you darlin’? Ever?

Hey cowboy. I’m great, how are you?

He was certainly an eager responder, taking only a few seconds to reply. You found yourself smiling down at your phone screen.

Cowboy… I like that. I’m better now that I’m talking to you.

Oh, Joel, who told you to say that? 😂

No good?

Not bad. 6/10.

Only 6/10? I’ll work on it. I like to think I’m better in person.

I would love to find out.

You found yourself emboldened by how easy the conversation was flowing. Joel was certainly easy to talk to, easier than the other matches you had going for you, and infinitely more handsome.

Oh, would you? Alright. I’d love to take you to dinner sometime. If you don’t mind being seen with an old man such as myself in public. Or meeting a stranger from the internet.

He’s a very handsome stranger. I would love to go to dinner with you. Know any good spots? I’m new around here.

There’s a great barbecue spot in downtown Austin. If you’d prefer something fancier, let me know.

I love bbq. Just tell me where and when, cowboy.

Tomorrow, 7pm ok?

You sent him your phone number in the message. Fuck it.

Sounds great. Text me the address, I’ll be there. :)

Joel’s reply didn’t come. Instead, a text appeared at the top of your screen with an unknown number.

It’s Joel. This the right number?

Yup. You found me.

Great. Talk tomorrow sweetheart. Looking forward to it. :)

He texted you the address of the restaurant, right before you opened the contact card, saving his name as “cowboy ♡”.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Cowboy. Cowboy. Cowboy. It was playing over in his head like a broken fuckin’ record.

Joel was positively freaking out about this date.

Sarah had managed to secure a sleepover at her friend’s place, so the house would be empty for the night. He had been busying himself with cleaning the entirety of the house, even taking the time to mow the grass before work and vacuum the family room. He can’t remember the last time he vacuumed anywhere.

Would she even make it back here? How does this work? Will she want to sleep over or hang out on the couch or should he be making a dessert for after?

His mind was brought out of it’s craze by Sarah jumping down the stairs. She plopped her bag down on the freshly wiped countertop.

“Careful,” he warned, putting a hand up. “I just cleaned that off.”

“I can tell. It smells like the cleaning aisle threw up in here.”

He smirked before patting her head with his hand, as she aggressively smoothed out her hair. “Dad! Don’t!”

“When do you wanna go to Ellie’s?” He asked, more gaging how long he has left to get ready than actually asking.

“Probably soon. Why? Tryna get rid of me?” she poked her dad in the side, but when she flinched away instead, a large smile spread across her face. He was tense.

“What’s your deal?” Joel hated the way she knew him so well sometimes.

“Nothing.“

“Are you going on a date?”

Silence fell over the kitchen between the two of them, as Joel’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “How did you know?”

“Oh my god, you actually took my advice,” Sarah laughed, watching her dad’s face burn red with embarrassment. “Just don’t do anything weird on communal surfaces, please.”

Joel shook his head at her suggestion, already becoming annoyed with the whole prospect. He was so nervous, about what to wear, how to act, what the expectation was… let alone, what would happen if they made it back to his place at all.

Although, when he was able to shake his nerves for a second, he was just really fucking excited.

“Wear those dark jeans, and that green shirt you wore to Tommy’s last week. Looks good on you.” Sarah smiled as she put her arms around Joel’s middle, while his worries melted away with her touch. “She’ll love you, I promise.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

It had been such a long time since you’d been on a proper date, you were starting to lose your mind at the simple process of deciding what to wear.

Clothes were strewn across every surface of your apartment, shoes matching with jeans that matched with cardigans, tops that matched with belts and jackets.

It’s 87 degrees at 5 o’clock, idiot. You’re not wearing a jacket. Relax.

Exhausted of picking out outfits and making decisions, you collapsed on your couch and took a look at your options. You landed on an easy sundress, putting the rest of your clothes back in their respective drawers, and pulling out all of the products you were expecting to use to get ready.

You scrolled through your phone aimlessly as a notification bubble popped up on the screen.

We still on for tonight darlin’? Or did you change your mind?

No worries if you did. I respect that.

You let out a cackle at the message, thinking about how he must look right now. Was he nervous? Scared? Was he just looking for a controversially young fuck?

You weren’t… completely against that.

Didn’t change my mind, wouldn’t in a million years :)

Meet you there. Can’t wait to see you.

His eagerness to meet up would’ve been a red flag if it were any other run of the mill guy, but something about Joel felt special. There didn’t seem to be any funny business with him; too sincere to try anything other than just a good old fashioned date.

You too, cowboy.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

When Joel showed up at the restaurant, he clenched a small bouquet of pink peonies in his right hand and checked his watch obsessively. The minutes ticked away, as he kept a high alert for anyone who could be his potential date. He knew what you looked like, of course, but this being his first time doing anything of this sort is making him hyperaware of anything going awry.

When he does lay eyes on you, his whole gaze softens. A pink sundress, hair pristinely styled and a bounce in your step that reminded him of summer. You looked like an angel, the sunset behind you painting the sky tangerine, which reflected off of the shine against your supple skin. So young, beautiful, it was taking his breath away.

“Joel?”

Your voice matched your sweet demeanour, and he was taken out of his waking daydream.

“Hi,” is all he can say, letting his breath out as he relaxed. “Yes, hi, sorry. I’m Joel.”

“Hi,” you laugh back, eyes darting to the flowers in his hand. They matched your dress.

“These are for you,” he gets the hint, extending his arm out, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearm. He looked so much stronger in person, it was making your knees go weak.

“Thank you, wow,” you held them up to your nose to smell the sweet aroma. “I love peonies.”

“Me too,” he smiled, showing off a string of pearly white teeth, that contrasted with the pink of his lips and the even tan of his skin.

“Shall we?” He extended his arm to you for you to grab onto, and you got to feel the warmth of his skin for yourself. Your hand wrapped around his forearm as he opened the door of the restaurant for you, leading you inside and catching a glimpse of the backs of your thighs as you walked in front of him.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

When you were finally sitting, the conversation flowed easily. He was truly a Southern gentleman, like he had said. It wasn’t normal for you to open up so quickly, but Joel was so easy going and smart, he asked the right questions and knew when to listen. He knew how to listen, a warm gaze and a nod along, asking follow up questions to your answers and easily getting to know you.

You asked about his daughter, his family, his work. He was happy to tell you.

“So, what’s a man like you doing being single in this city?” You take a sip of the wine in the glass in front of you, burgundy staining your bottom lip.

He takes a bite of the food in front of him, a napkin pressing to his lips quickly after. “Been busy,” he started to say, honey brown eyes meeting yours for a second. His gaze sent an electrifying pulse down your spine.

“And, well, when Sarah’s mom left there was a ton to do,” he says it nonchalantly, as if that should be something normal to happen. “House, work, school, she keeps my hands full. Hasn’t been a lot of time.” His syrupy drawl is pulling you in, you’re enticed by the way he speaks to you. So easy, warm, soft. You wonder what his hands feel like on your body, lips pressed to your neck, torso pressed against yours.

“Sorry, that’s a lot of information for a first date,” he laughs to cover the awkwardness, and quietly curses himself for going into so much detail about his precarious family situation and basically admitting to you that he hasn’t fucked anything other than his hand in the last 5 or so years.

“No, it’s okay,” you slide your hand across the table, palm up, urging him to slot his hand into it. He takes it, easily, enveloping yours. His fingers find the pulse point on your wrist. You let your eyes drift up to his, drinking in the way his chest fills out the shirt he chose.

“What’s your story?” He asks earnestly, giving your hand a squeeze. “Can’t imagine there isn’t a long line of people outside waiting to take my place, darlin’.”

You blush furiously at the nickname, and let your eyes meet his once again. “You have no idea the… mess that is out there,” the wine is calling your name to take another sip at the mere thought, but you refrain. “Certainly not too many I am interested in.”

“So, is that why you’re on a date with an old man on a beautiful summer night in Austin?”

You could tell Joel, in a twisted way, liked that you were younger than him. It made him feel younger by admission, that you’d want to spend time with him.

“You’re not that much older,” you laugh, not even believing it yourself as the words left your lips. “And I like to try new things. Don’t you like trying new things, sometimes?”

It was his turn to let his face go red at your insinuation. If only you knew how ‘new’ this really was for him, how much he was pushed out of his comfort zone right now.

You didn’t notice.

A little more polite small talk and exchanging of stories was all you could take before the tension was becoming too much. After another glass of wine and a shared plate of sky-high chocolate cake for dessert, you were enjoying his company and could tell he was enjoying yours all the same. When you met his gaze again, hands still intertwined, you could tell there was a question on the tip of his tongue.

“Would you want to…“ - a nervous pause, with a halo of lust - “come back to mine for a nightcap? I’ve got an empty house this evening.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, knowing in your heart that Joel must’ve made arrangements for his family not to be home in anticipation. He had to have planned for you, known in his heart you’d say yes.

“I’d love that.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Joel’s home is unmistakably him. It smells like a pine candle that sits near the front door and a faint aroma of laundry detergent. There’s photos everywhere, him and his daughter, his brother’s family. Big windows were letting in the twinkling lights of the city outside, the inky sky making them look brighter against its canvas.

“You have a beautiful home,” you say, although it seems a little formal for the situation. What else do you say to a grown-up in their house?

“Thank you,” he takes a bottle of whiskey from the bar cart and pours two rock glasses, handing you one. He flicks on a lamp, ambient light filling the room and painting his skin amber orange, as he joins your side by his kitchen table.

“I did a lot of the construction myself, the decorations are my daughter.” He points lazily to the trinkets on the shelves and photos on the wall. “I don’t really have a good eye for that type of stuff.”

You take a sip from the drink and it coats your throat, burning down as you suppress a cough at the taste. You nod along as he explains the design choices he made in the home, and you play along, knowing it’s likely out of anxiety.

“What about upstairs?”

Your eyes are innocent as they meet his, although you understand the implication you’re making whole-heartedly. He puts his glass down on the kitchen table and you follow his lead, his strong hand around your wrist as he leads you up the stairs wordlessly.

“It’s not anything,” - he clears his throat - “special,” he shows you around the second floor, finishing at the door of his bedroom that has been left slightly ajar.

You step in quietly, leading him inside as you take in the bedroom. Neatly folded clothes, a made bed that looks well loved. Blue sheets and fluffy pillows, big bay windows that let the moonlight in.

“I think it’s nice,” you say simply, letting yourself turn around to meet his broad frame. He looks down at you slightly, eyes meeting yours as your hand drops from his grasp and snakes around his neck. His hands come up the sides of your dress, pulling it up slightly, but landing on your waist.

“Is this okay?” He asks tentatively in the dark of the room, his lips so close to yours already you can practically taste the whiskey on his lips for yourself. You answer him by pressing your tentative lips to his, slotting them together easily.

Joel’s grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he takes you in, pulling you as close as he possibly can. He can smell the perfume on your neck and the wine on your lips from earlier, and it’s making his need for you increase tenfold.

You pull him into you as you stumble back to let your knees hit his mattress, sitting down and letting your hands come to his belt buckle. Your hands came to undo it as he pulled his t-shirt off to throw onto the floor beside him, bending down to help you pull the dress over your shoulders to meet his t-shirt.

You made quick work of his jeans, pushing them to the ground and looking up at him with a keen glance. You could see the breath making his belly rise and fall, anticipating your touch on him any second.

When your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, his breath hitched and his head rolled back. He was already half-hard only from kissing you, so a few pumps made him easily ready for your mouth.

“You’re so big,” is all you can think to say, head spinning from the sheer size of him right in front of your face. Your mouth watered at the way his hand palmed through your hair, pulling you in closer to him for some relief.

It was intoxicating to him, the way your mouth fit around his cock. Such a beautiful sight to see, your head licking and sucking at his tip, gathering spit there to lubricate him. His knees were going weak as he watched intently, no thought able to cross his mind, other than maybe how long it had been since he’d had anyone to do this with. He was going to have to pace himself if it was all like this.

Your mouth constrained around the length of him, taking him deeper and deeper with every bob of your head. Filthy sounds were filling the room now, of your eager mouth pulling him in as best you could. His hand stayed steady at the back of your head, not pushing, just softly pressed there for support. His other hand found your shoulder, pushing down your bra strap.

“God, darlin’,” was all he could choke out, using his hand to pull you off of him. Your hand lazily stroked him as you looked up at him, spit collecting at the corners of your mouth. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep doin’ that,” his laugh eased some of the tension in the room, as you took your other hand and wiped the spit away.

He leaned down, pressing a fervent kiss to your lips before using his own hands to unclasp your bra and let your breasts free. His lips traveled to the side of your neck, before he was kneeled down between your legs, sucking your nipple into his mouth. He lapped at you, all consuming, as his hand came up to grasp the other breast that wasn’t being serviced. He moaned at the noises you were making, lewd whines into the night air that only encouraged him.

His lips made their way down your body to your clothed centre, your back against his soft sheets. You looked down at him intently, watching as he pulled your panties down your legs and immediately delved into your pussy with broad strokes of his tongue.

Your body jerked upwards at the contact, hand fisting the sheet beside you as he lapped at you, like a man starved. His expert tongue found your clit easily, sucking and licking at you for what felt like hours. You thought about his heavy cock between his legs, begging to be touched, hard as ever as he licked at you desperately.

“Joel,” you whined out, feeling your hand reach down to grab at his curls and push him deeper into you. That only made him moan, one hand lazily fisting his cock as the other came up to dip a finger into you, allowing you to see stars when you screwed your eyes shut.

His fingers were so large, pressed into your core as you fucked yourself on them and his tongue in tandem. He was groaning and grunting, and you hoped his neighbours couldn’t see into the window at the desperate filth that was going on in his bedroom.

“Fuck, Joel, please,” you begged, but he had no mercy, and your orgasm was creeping up on you. He was ready to watch you come undone, pushing a second finger into you and furiously sucking on your clit. His other hand left his own pleasure and wrapped around your breast, pressing and playing with the hard nub there, pinching to provide a little bit of sting to it. It was sending you into another dimension.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” and his voice is gravely and debauched, enough to send you into your first orgasm, chanting his name and pulling on his hair. He was happily licking at you, fingers still pressing in and out as to not mess up the rhythm, as you rode out your orgasm against his face.

When you started to come down, he finally detached himself from you before standing up between your legs and pressing his broad palms to your thighs. He stayed there for a moment, cock still hard and heavy between his legs as you gazed up at him, out of breath from his work.

“You’re really good at that,” was all you could think to say, head clouded with arousal. You moved up on the bed a little, opening your legs and pressing your knees apart to show your pussy to him again.

“Please fuck me, Joel,” you breathe out, letting your hand find your own clit to rub it teasingly for him. It was still so sensitive, but the way he was looking down at you, eyes dark and stormy with need, you could almost come again just from that.

He put a knee down on the bed and crawled on top of you, his lips finding yours once again as your hands found his face. You held him there, savouring the kiss as his tongue crashed against yours, all warmth and spit and the taste of you. His hand found your breast and continued to play with your nipples, softly, coaxing more moans into his mouth from yours.

He leaned back and slipped his cock inside of you, filling you up immediately and making you gasp. He groaned into the side of your neck, tonguing the side of your ear and kissing you feverishly as he pumped in and out of you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly close, your moans filling the room as he rocked in and out of you. He kissed your jaw and chest, before reaching down between your bodies and pressing his thick finger to your clit again, using the wetness there to draw circles around your sensitive nub.

“So pretty,” he smiles into your neck, your hand on the back of his, playing with the now-sweaty strands of hair on the nape. “So pretty for me, taking my cock,” the dirty talking is welcome as he continues to bring you closer to a second orgasm, your breath hitching once again.

“Come inside of me,” you say it like a whisper, a secret in the stillness of the room, and Joel is unsure he even heard you correctly.

“Are you sure?” He says it not accusingly, but in a way that conveys he feels like he just won the lottery.

“Yes, please, fill me up.”

You can see the way his eyes darken more, shifting so he’s on his knees and using your body to fuck himself on his thick cock. His hand continued to play with your clit, bringing you so close to your orgasm that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. His cheeks were getting hot as he thrusted in and out furiously, and you could almost see the stress melt off of his face as he came close to his own undoing.

The white-hot feeling washes over you once again, eyes shutting before you’re back on your elbows and watching intently. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as his thrusts become sloppy, your name pouring out of his lips like a prayer. You’re clenching around him and letting him ride out his high alongside you, slowing after his hot cum coats your walls and leaves you full of him.

He collapses on top of you, cock softening inside as you both catch your breath together. Your chests are sticky with sweat as you breathe, taking in the smell of him, and the feel of his warmth on your body.

He pulls himself from you and flops beside you, still taking a moment to admire you. You look over at him, a lazy smile on your face as your hand reaches out to caress the skin of his chest. He takes the time to run his fingertips up your arms and back as you lay there in silence together, just soaking in the moment in a post-sex glow.

“I guess I should get going,” you say after a few beats, sitting up to grab your dress off the floor. You cringe at the thought of throwing your underwear on and leaving, this being just another random hookup for you that never lead to anything. Joel was sweet.

A confused look spreads across his features and his brows knit together, before sitting up next to you at the edge of the bed.

“I mean, I don’t know how these things usually go,” he laughs, as his hand finds your lower back. “But you don’t gotta run outta here like a scared animal or somethin’.”

You look up at him again, unsure of what to do next. In your, albeit limited, experience with dating app hookups, you were expected to leave pretty much right after.

“Oh, um,” you look around the room at the soft worn-in sheets and the TV across from Joel’s bed. You take a look at him again, your eyes meeting his to match his gaze, where you can tell he’s mentally begging that you’ll stay the night.

“I mean, if you don’t mind, I’d be happy to stay.” Joel smiled lopsidedly and let his hand rub soothing circles at your lower back.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he laughs, stepping over to go into the bathroom and warm up a cloth for the mess spilling out from between your legs. “I wouldn’t mind wakin’ up and doing all that again tomorrow.”

You laugh and lay back onto his bed as he presses the warm cloth to your pussy, his lips once again finding yours to pull you in for a sweet kiss.��

You nod, sliding between the comfortable sheets as Joel runs downstairs to grab your abandoned drinks as well as a couple of bottles of ice cold water. He slips into the sheets next to you, not bothering to throw on any pajamas (not that you were complaining), and settling in beside you. After a few gulps of water, you nestled into his chest and let your hand find his tummy, resting on it as you listened to the even pattern of his breath.

“We should do this again. Like, after tomorrow morning.” you say quietly as you’re drifting in and out of sleep. His fingertips continues to slide across your arm and give you goosebumps as you snuggled closer into him, hearing a laugh exhale out of his nose and feeling a kiss press to the top of your head.

In his sleepy, deep southern drawl, he replies. “Don’t have to ask me twice, darlin’.”

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic

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irndad · 9 months

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Hi hun! I just love love love your pieces <3

As for Carmy prompts - could we have some hurt to comfort when Carmen doesn't show up for a date? It's ok if you dont wanna do it or i requested incorrectly, but if you do, i cant wait to read!!!!! Thank you so much mwah mwah mwah

I’m not thaaaaaat sure how I feel about this and it’s so long but your request was so sweet I had to!!! Ily <3333

wc:1.1k

There’s so fucking much in his ear. Fak’s screaming whatever bullshit he’s sure will help absolutely nothing, Richie’s harassing Sydney and Tina’s trying to keep them all in line and will of that goddamn chaos, he shouldn’t be able to make out anything.

Prepping this whole thing, the opening, Richie biting his head off for fucking sending him to the best kitchen in the city- it’s all a bit fucking much.

He barely hears the door open (she has a key, because of course she does) and he doesn’t even look over his shoulder as he calls out her name.

“Hey, baby,” he yells back towards the entrance. It feels good, chopping the vegetables. It’s actually one of her favorite dishes that he’s making, and something inside him preens that he gets to feed her tonight. Everything feels illustrious under her gaze. He remembers the first time he’d cooked for her, how her watchful gaze felt a bit like sunlight; equal parts burning and doused in light.

She’d said she liked his hands, then. Said he looked pretty with a knife and a cutting board. “Will you try this sauce for me?”

He hears her heels click, the soft thud of her purse landing on the couch. It’s a slow saunter she does to him, but he’s razor focused- what does it need, garlic? Oregano?

It only breaks when he sees her. And she looks gorgeous. Wearing a black dress with a cowl neck, shimmery eyeshadow that catches and dances in the low light of the kitchen, a crimson lipstick neatly applied to her beautiful pout.

She smells like vanilla, and Carmen has the privilege of knowing what real, rich, Madagascar vanilla smells like. He’d loved the scent so much that he’d bought her a perfume made from it, and there’s a warmth blooming in his chest when he realizes that she’s wearing it.

Wordlessly, she opens her mouth and leans forward to try the sauce covered wooden spoon he’d raised to her lips.

Even when she’s in front of him, he can’t believe she’s someone he knows. That she’s wasting her time with someone like him.

“Jesus Christ you look beautiful,” he says without thinking, and he kisses her quick. It’s true. She’s a vision, plucked out of an old movie shot on grainy film, warm to the touch film.

He abandons the spoon and the sauce without much fanfare, a rough, calloused hand meeting her soft warm cheek.

“Thanks, Carmen.” she says, but her doe-eyes deny the joy she typically exudes in his presence. It’s his proudest achievement, how she glows around him. She’s tight lipped, smile betraying her words.

“What’s wrong? Is it the sauce? I know it’s a mess in here, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d see it-“

“No! No, seriously, it’s okay, honey.” She tries to insist but it really doesn’t work. He moves the pot off the burner and twists himself completely to face her, placing a gentle hand at the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. He tries not to let it sting, how she stiffens for a moment before softening again.

“What happened?” He asks again.

“It’s the first,” she says, a rueful grin on her pretty lips, before gesturing down at her outfit, and oh.

The dinner. The fucking dinner that he’d promised her. His sweet girl, who waited up every night, who dutifully tasted every recipe, who soothed him on nights where nightmares stole his sleep-

“Fuck,” he says, more to himself than her, but god, he can’t stop looking at her, “Fuck! God, I’m such an asshole, I’m so sorry-“ he insists, suddenly so grateful that she’s letting him touch her, even more aware of every point of contact with the sudden fear that it could escape in a moment’s notice.

“Y’know, Carm, if you could’ve just told me that would’ve been one thing? But I left the reservation, and this was the one night we both had off!”

“I know, baby, fuck, I forgot-“

She backs away from him, and there’s a sick feeling in his stomach. Sitting on the chair he keeps by the stove (he put it there for her, because she loved watching him) she pinches the bridge of her nose.

“It’s just not fair, Carm. To either of us. If you don’t have time for this-“

“I have time for this! I have time. Don’t say things like that.”

“Carmy, I’m not trying to hurt you. You know that’s the last thing I want.”

And it is. It’s the last thing she wants, and Carmen fucking knows it. Knows that three months in he’s supposed to have brought her flowers and taken her out and done more than cook for her and spend hours in his shitty apartment, and lately she’s been asking if he has time for being in a relationship.

And maybe he doesn’t, but fuck it if he doesn’t feel like he can breathe around her. This was the point of the dinner- take her out, be a boyfriend. Have her wait a little while on him. Show her he’s worth it.

Instead he fucking missed it, stayed home and made sauce no one would even eat.

“I’m sorry,” he says, grabbing her hand and lacing it through his own. It always shocks him, how it fits his own. “Okay? I’m so, so fuckin’ sorry. Tell me what I can do. Tell me, cos I’ll do just about fuckin’ anything to get you to stop saying shit like that.”

Her voice comes out small.

“I was alone, Carm. They kept trying to take my order and you weren’t there, and eventually I had to leave.“

She looks up at him, eyes sparkling and kind and Carmen. She looks beautiful, and if he wasn’t with her, he’d see her in the street and hate whatever fuck was lucky enough to be who she got dressed up for.

“I am so, so sorry. It’s just with the stove, and Fak, and Richie fucking calling me to bitch me out every thirty seconds,” she reaches her delicate fingers to brush his cheek with concern, “I should’ve remembered. It’s just about the only thing this week worth remembering. And you look…stunning, I should’ve been there. I should’ve. Please.”

Her expression softens and he loves the sight of her, warm and kind and lovely in both form and temperance. She’s so patient with him, responds with kindness- a gift.

She brushes her soft lips on his cheek and he tries to savor the sensation, note how warm and wonderful it is to have her form pressed against his, how her arms knot themselves around his waist.

“I know you’re stressed, babe,” she murmurs against his cheek, eyes shut, “tell you what. Why don’t you make me something better than what that place could’ve, huh?”

After he kisses her for so long that excess is no longer the right terminology, he makes her the best pasta she’s ever had in her goddamn life.

It’s better this way, anyway. She’s gorgeous in a way that’s just his to look at tonight.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x You #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear #the bear x reader

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simonrillleyyysss · 5 months

Note

I NEED NEED NEED INJURED GHOST AND NURSE READER WHERE SHES TRYING TO FIX HIM UP AND HES BEING ALL FLIRTY N SHIT AND SHES LIKE NOOO STOP GIRL;))) PLS PLS PLS<3333

ouhhhh i love this :((

cw:none, fluff n flirting, suggestive at the end

‘you really need to be more careful, lieutenant..’

you cooed softly, gently wrapping the film—like bandage around his forearm; watching his eyes flicker to yours ever so slightly, cold porcelain of his mask clutched in his hand, thumb rubbing against the fabric slowly, watching your lips purse in concentration,

‘you can’t keep promises, you promised me you wouldn’t be back here for a while.’

‘promised y’id come see you when i could.’

gloomy eyes stared through own worried ones,his thick brows furrowing in thought, leaning back against the bed while you hoisted his leg up; pulling the end of his trousers up.

‘besides, couldn’t not see my favourite girl, mm? love my work wifey.’

‘m’not your work wifey—what the hells a work wifey?’

‘my wife, at work. yr’ my wife, just don’t know it.’

the blonde grinned down at your visibly flustered expression, gently swatting at his stomach —watching the large man roll over and groan in pain, your eyes immediately widening, lifting a hand to his tummy.

‘simon? lieutena-‘

before you could comprehend, warm lips brushed against the palm of your hand, his full lips parted as he scanned over you afterwards; lips curling into a lazy smirk, a scoff leaving your throat.

‘you’re not funny, nor slick.. this isn’t how you charm a lady!’

‘yeah? i’ll figure it out.’

‘you’re unprofessional.’

few days later, he was back.

suspected he pulled something during training, couldn’t walk properly after. Knee looked funny, and he had to balance on his toes, so here you were—knelt down infront of the man, kneading and pushing back on his knee, only sound being the low bass of his breaths; pale lashes batting against his cheek.

‘sore?’

you questioned, pushing back on his kneecap.’

‘mmhhhmm—a bit.’

tugging the back of his knee forward, watching his pupils dilate, cut off as you tried to speak.

‘yeah—christ..yeah, fuckin’ painful there..’

‘could be your pcl, sir.’

ghost was too busy watching you between his knees, hands resting on his large thigh, lips parted as you spoke softly to him, like a child— resting on your knees, god—-you were so close, he could just shove—

‘yr’ gorgeous.’

‘..mhhh?

‘pretty. yr ’ fuckin’ ethereal.’

‘simon? you can’t say these things! not here..not ever, you’re a superior.’

‘and?’

with a shake of his head, he hunched over on the bed slightly, large hand cupping your jaw, your throat bobbing with the slow gulp you took—is this real? what the hells happening? the man just stared down at you, cocking his head to the side.

‘yr’ so easy to play with, puppy.’

‘w-what?’

‘my barracks later, yeah?’

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bovineblogger · 1 month

Note

do you remember when emoji ratings was a thing!!! that was a great meme & we should bring it back. but you specifically should rate all the cow emojis. if you want :)

absolutely.

APPLE

super cute!!!! got the roundness in da front, square butt, perfect. luvly. would be cuter if it was stylized tho. 8/10

ANDROID

VERY CUUUUTTEEEEE LOVELY!!! i preferred the old one tho :(( (right) 9/10

SAMSUNG

the cartoony smiley face looks strange to me .. 6/10

MICROSOFT

SOOOO CUUUUUUUUUTEEEEEEE SO CUUUTEEEEEEEE this is so good!!!!! perfect!!!!!!!!! big nose empty eyes. perfect. cow. 10/10

TWITTER

kinda cute! dont really know what the face shape is supposed to be like ... uhhh . its okay! 4/10

FACEBOOK

you had a perfectly good brown cow why did you . why did you get rid of her. bring hehr back. like this is fine but the sideways body and front on face is kinda jarring ig 4/10

OPENMOJI

A BEAUTIFUL BELTED COW!!! OH MY GOSH!!!!!!! HOW CREATIVE! THATS WONDERFUL THAT A NON-FRESIAN WAS USED FOR THE COW EMOJI THATS LOVELY<3333 10/10

HUWAWEI

heheheehehehe she looks like a chihuahua 6/10

horse without a neck/10

SKYPE

EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEEEEE CUUUUUUUTEEEEEEEE this cow is excited about something!!!!!!!!!! this cows about to run up to u and try to lick ur face 8/10

ICONS8

she looks like shes wearing slippers....... aouuu floopy brisket. round nose.. how lovely. 9/10

MESSENGER

what a lovely girl!!! oh my gosh!!!! and a lovely brown cow too!!!!!!!! not a thought behind those eyes. i lve her. the anatomy is a little strange but i forgive thiem 7/10

PLAYSTATION

sHES SO FUCKIGN SMLA ORINGTOFDIEKFRGTRFEDLWKSNDFGFOTEFRIDWNSLKDCFVGTREFOWSXDC 10/10

HTC

a very pretty approximation of a cow!!!! with suuuuuuuper sharp horns!!!!!!!!!!! woawh!!!! a fearsome creature! 7/10

JOY PIXELS / TOSS FACE / EMOJIDEX

theyre okay. bye

#asks #cattle #i could do the bison and buffalo emojis too >:3

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getodrools · 2 months

Note

hii !! i lovveeeee ur works esp how u write toji 🫶🫶🫶

was wondering if you could write toji w a reader that's lowk inexperienced but also kind of a freak !! like she asks for pussy slaps and/or wants to ride him while playing with his nipples >_< maybe even wanting to rub both of their nipples together while making out and riding him and she's just so cockdrunk !! <3333

໒꒰ྀི｡•̀ᴗ-꒱ྀི 🗞️ hellllooo ml ! thankuu sososo much ♡ ! this is honestly so hot and was vv fun to write gosssh ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 CURSORY | Toji Fushiguro.

warnings. mdni | f! reader | pwp, nipple playy ( ’cause he has massive yams that are hard to ignore ), riding, spanking + pussy spanks sob, he's so meeean n’ big, size difference, cunnilingus, fingering, clit biting, creampie, overstimulation, slight praising and degrading. ( wc. 1.2k+ )

A MEAN SWAT CURDLES at the sweet heat between your legs. Shifting in ache, your thighs tweeze together, only to be quickly pinched at,

“No no. keep em’ nice n’ wide f’me baby,” The man sitting splayed between you flickers a taut grin, “Werent you just begging for this pussy to be disciplined? So keep those fuckin’ legs open.” His grunt doesn't help but add to the tenstisty of his words.

But Toji was right.

Each tingle patting at your – now, puffy, swollen lips made your pussy warm with a slick web, practically drooling a faucet of water when he'd give your bundle of nerves a pinch too. Catching the pearly bud between teeth and latching on, giving a good lap around ‘till your thighs threatened to pop his head right off his shoulders…

Chewing at your bottom lip, “One more… please?—” You whine and he smirks.

Winding his palm back, he releases a harsh whack to your clit. It shoots a throb right up your spine and mushes your brain into frivolity. Just how you scoured for.

Not knowing much to begin with, but this felt damn good! And it surprises him too, watching his pretty girl ache for something he'd think you would try to crawl away from… but watching how your cute hips twitch and turn for more, he can't help but feel his cock stiffen up even harder! Bulbous tip even oozing like a gutted drain.

“Such a naughty girl.” Searching for that cruel intent flicking at your sweetest regions until you puddled beneath him, he finds it. Quickly.

Finding that slick webbing so lewdly between your legs once more and giving the soft flesh a good spank. You twist in his vice, even flashing down big doe eyes but your mouth waters in contrary. That scrutinizing ache glorying over pretty features reminded him one of a puppy too. Eyes innocent and larger – you were damn good at begging for what you wanted, and he'd ease you with a gentle rub, falling right into it; soothing the tight bundle of nerves throbbing at his mean persistence.

Shading into red, you didn't notice how limp you’ve gone either, thinking the numbing only tingled between your legs.

Body trembling above his now – his strong arms latch around your waist to help you steady into his naked lap, “We’ll get back to that– you just look mighty good right now and my dick is hurtin’.” And thick meat prods below you, teasing at the sappy entrance you wind with.

Like a magnet.

“Fuck baby…” His words draw out with a long drawl, watching carefully how his cock sinks into you – watching how you drop down to take him entirely.

Too much though! You still couldn't find space for him no matter how much you tried to shimmy into his lap, pussy still too tight for his might girth! and your chest falls right into his at the hefty packing.

… Oh.

Hard peaks press into each other and it catches you both. His body jolts slightly at the soft tease of your breast gliding across his; hard nipples catching each other in the entanglement.

Toji didn't think his toes would kick into the sheets, but as sensitive as he was, he catches his bottom lip between his teeth.

Beneath your palms are warm but his skin bumps with a trail, “Toji...” Creamy twins with faint blue veins running along them like cooling streams you could just wash your face in throb.

His pecs are strong and large enough to grab a good handful with.

Tempting.

His brow hooks in as your hand begins to glide up, a sneaky thumb covering the area that broke into a pinkish shade.

Toji groans again.

“What're you up to?” He still lets you explore. Not minding how you enjoyed to with his body… you give a breathless giggle, “They're hard like mine…” Was he blushing? “I like when you squeeze mine when mine are hard…” Your thumb swipes across him, watching how the pebbled peaks toing.

“… do you do too?” Your pointer and thumb tweak like wrench, before his gasp could fall to your ears, you catch his mouth with yours, eating up that moan he so rarely spews out. And you knew he was enjoying the sweet taste of nectarous lotion and salt as you played with him. Even feeling his cock throb deep inside of you; your fleshy barrier began to mold to his size, yet still unable to cope with a cock from beyond, you writhed around him, squeezing so tightly like you were trying to milk him from everywhere...

Toji latches firm hands around your two doughy globes, giving your ass a good squeeze before swatting the taut flesh in response.

You eat each other's mutterings.

Bodies slipping together, you let your tits bounce against his — too needy now, letting hard peaks prod every time you rolled your hips to feel more of him poke up inside of you.

But the motions were clumsy. Still needed to work on your knees, but he couldn't care, not one damn bit, it was god damn hot watching you explore like this. A damn freak he might say… the clouding thought wisped at the back of his head, you really were!

Tasting drool that left your lips as your mind was driven to the edge, unable to cope. The Fushiguro adored it.

… This turned him on fast – too fast! Now parts of him tingled and numbed as well…

He adored it so much, his cock pumped hard and then slammed his hips up to catch yours; stiff nth inch cock meat shot straight up into your fluttering warmth with finality, almost worming his way into your womb… you held still, gasping against his mouth as tits sloshed together messily…

Not only did your breast look freezing, but you also froze your movements to swallow up the pulse bulges of thick cum making its way in you.

Toji’s cock swells up almost an inch bigger as he directly splatters rope after rope of steaming, hot cum across your gummy walls… Your body contracted violently in response but also as your own high ripped through you, far stronger than was normal. Assuming all vulnerable parts of you were smothered with his added to the cries of bliss ringing out – all loud and long and clear, and it was all music to him.

Catching your tongue, “You're a little freak, you know that?” His smile was wide and shark-like, bearing his dagger-sharp incisors ‘till you caught your breath...

<– BACK: PINNED ꪆৎ NEXT: MORE TOJI –>

#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸𝒮!#💌 !#ᝰ toji fushiguro!#tw nipple play #tw size difference #tw overstimulation #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushigro x reader

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reiding-writing · 2 months

Note

congrats on 1k followers!!! u deserve it sm u're literally my favorite cm writer on here <333

i'd like to request spencer/cold!reader with 4 from blue (color prompts)

TRYPANOPHOBIA [CLIMACTERIC]

/ˌtaɪpənəˈfoʊbiə/

4. "Will you hold my hand?”

WARNINGS: fem!reader, needles, suturing, allusion to spencer’s past addiction, blood, reader injury

spencer x cold!reader | hurt/comfort | 1.6k | climacteric event

a/n: thank you <3333 made the quote a little more blunt bc yk, cold reader, but i think it works either way. cold!reader is slowly developing her own lore and i’m living for it honestly.

main masterlist! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!

⋆｡°✩ event masterlist! ✩°｡⋆

You’d consider yourself pretty strong, mentally and physically.

You’d had your fair share of bumps and scrapes in your job that’s left you in the temporary care of EMTs sat in the back of an open ambulance. You’d been hit, kicked, slashed, shot at, and basically every other thing that you could possibly think of.

And it always came out alright in the end.

Most of the time the paramedics didn’t have to do more than clean out your injury with an antiseptic wipe and send you on your way.

But your luck had to run out eventually.

You’d garnered yourself a pretty nasty gash on your left bicep, one that the paramedic said would probably scar even with stitches.

Of course it would.

Either way, he seated you down on the edge of the open ambulance prepped your arm in the hopes that having it stitched closed would at least minimise the mark left behind. But it was never going to be that easy.

—

Morgan nudged Spencer’s arm with his elbow, nodding his head over to where you were sat on the edge of the ambulance with a very firm look on your face as you shake your head at the paramedic in front of you, who is seemingly trying to explain something that you’re not listening to. “Something tells me the Ice Queen might want some backup,”

“She told me to leave her alone,” Spencer shrugs slightly through furrowed eyebrows, eyes fixed on you despite the fact that he’s talking to Morgan.

He was the one who pointed the gash out to you in the first place. He knew that you had a high pain tolerance, but to not at all notice the blood trailing down your arm— even with the adrenaline in your system —was absolutely insane to him.

You tried for almost two minutes to brush him off, but he managed to convince you to get check out by the ambulance eventually. Even if it did result in him being on the receiving end of one of your disgruntled glares.

He’d rather that than you getting an infection.

“Come on man she’s clearly not enjoying herself over there,” Morgan tilted his head at Spencer with a knowing look. “Go and do your thing before she gives the poor guy a heart attack,”

Spencer doesn’t really have an option as Morgan pushes his shoulder in your direction, sending him stumbling a few steps forward.

—

“I said no.”

“Please miss it’s to make you more comfortable-”

“You are not putting that in my arm.”

“Is everything okay over here?” Spencer furrows his eyebrows, catching the tail end of your argument with the paramedic as he approaches you. “Are you alright?”

“I would be if this fucking-“ You exhale heavily through your nose to compose yourself.

It’s not his fault. He’s trying to help you. Don’t think about smashing his face into the tarmac.

“I don’t see why you need to stick me for a strip of butterfly stitches.” Your eyes are cold and unwavering as you glare right into the paramedic’s soul, and Spencer can see him take a small step backwards to steady himself under your scrutiny.

“I told you miss, butterfly stitches aren’t viable for your injury, they wouldn’t hold. You’ll have to have traditional sutures,” The paramedic argues his point hesitantly, but Spencer is surprised he’s even managing to argue in the first place with how harsh your expression is.

“Getting stitches for a serious injury can reduce the risk of infection by up to 86%,” Spencer takes a seat at your side cautiously, his eyes soft and non-confrontational as he tries to mediate your seething refusal to the idea of getting your injury stitched.

It looked bad. Something that he’s sure most people probably would’ve passed out from under the combination of pain and the fountain of red spurting from inside it.

“You need to get it treated…”

“I don’t do needles. It isn’t going to happen.” You don’t look at Spencer as you voice your reason for refusing medical attention, but you don’t have to, he can practically feel the anxiety radiating from you the second the possibility leaves your mouth.

You had a fear of needles.

Now that was something he never expected from you.

To be honest he was under the general impression that you weren’t afraid of anything. Especially not needles.

But he couldn’t exactly blame you either.

He also hated needles, although he was sure his reasoning was different from yours.

Either way, he knew what the anxiety felt like. But it didn’t change the fact that you needed stitches. That gash wasn’t going to heal on it’s own.

“Hey, uh,” Spencer bit the inside of his cheek as he spoke to you, glancing between the back of your head and the paramedic stood with an anaesthetic needle in hand, expression furrowed with no idea of how to convince you into letting him do his job. “There are several methods for effectively dealing with phobias during situations like this, I can walk you through one if you’d like?”

“I’m not getting a needle in my arm, let alone multiple.” You turn your sternness in your decision towards Spencer for the first time, and he almost folds immediately under the harshness of your glare. But he doesn’t, and his resistance to your defences is beginning to become increasingly torturously frustrating.

“The best first step is to turn away from the area of insertion,” Spencer moves his gaze from you to the paramedic and gives him a small, almost imperceptible nod to move forward. “Then you should focus on finding a suitable breathing pattern,”

“Reid I’m not-” There’s a sharp sting in your left shoulder that cuts your sentence short, and your eyebrows furrow and then rise in a mix of pain and shock as you turn your head just in time to see the top of the now empty needle leave your arm.

“Distraction is usually the easiest option…”

You turn to look at Spencer again with a look of absolute betrayal on your face, your eyes narrowed so far that it almost looks like your scleras are blackened through only your pupils being visible. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing except an astonished breath leaves your mouth.

“I’m sorry…” Spencer presses his lips together with a guilty expression. He couldn’t quite determine whether you wanted to shout at him or cry, and it was one of those times where he was reminded that you were a real person with real emotions underneath the wall of ice you protect yourself with. “It’s really in your best interest I promise,”

The paramedic gives you a guilty look of his own as he returns with a suturing needle attached to some thread. “You won’t feel anything I promise, just keep your eyes on your friend alright?”

“I am so going to kick your ass for this.” You turn your head as far away from the paramedic as possible as you reluctantly accept your fate, hissing your words out through your teeth as you face Spencer directly.

“I know,” Spencer gives you a small nod, guilt still riddling his features as he sighs. “I’m sorry,”

“Hold my hand.” You extend your right hand out towards him, palm upwards expectantly.

“I- what?” Spencer stares at it like he’s never seen a hand before in his life.

“You’re putting me through this, it’s the least you can do.”

He slips his hand into yours cautiously, your grip immediately tightening to a point where your knuckles clash together almost uncomfortably and his palm bumps into yours.

It’s enough to make his cheeks bloom red and his throat go dry, and yet you seem entirely unaffected apart from the tenseness in your shoulders in the anticipation of feeling the suturing needle in your arm.

It doesn’t come.

“All finished. Keep them dry for the next week or so and they should dissolve on their own,” Your eyebrows furrow as you break your stare on Spencer to look back towards the paramedic and then down to your arm. He’d literally stitched it shut without you feeling anything.

“…Thank you,” You still look absolutely furious, anger still coating your words, but you’re thankful nonetheless, and the paramedic gives you a short smile.

“Thank your friend, he did the hard work,” He gestures towards Spencer with a nod before leaving the two of you to regroup with the rest of the EMTs.

You watch the paramedic walk away for a few seconds before you turn your attention back to Spencer, and his eyes are already locked on you as you meet his eyes.

“Are you- uh- ready to go back to the station?”

You give him a short nod as you stand, inadvertently pulling him to his feet alongside you through your still connected hands.

They stay that way as you reapproach the rest of the team, and none of them have the gall to mention it under the lingering discomfort in your narrowed gaze as Spencer helps you into the car.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #mgg #climacteric 🪶

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