#self-writing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lauriescages · 2 months

Text

That Kind of Night || Self-Writing

Location: Grit Pit Content Warning: References to violence

Laurie cussed quietly to himself as he listened to the baukbear scream as the lamina held it down under the light. As dingy as this place could be sometimes, Laurie knew they’d only had it on to try and make it a fair fight. But he’d only just gotten the lighting to his liking around the baukbear cage. What? Was he just supposed to go out and find another one? Not fucking likely. If his bosses wanted a new one when that one had died so quickly, they could send somebody else.

Turning away from the fight, Laurie grabbed a rag to wipe his hands with before heading down toward the cages. That fight had been shorter than anticipated, so they’d probably try to squeeze in another. He needed to check the feeding schedule and figure out what would be smart to send. Technically that wasn’t his job either, but Laurie liked to be ready for the occasions where he did get asked.

“Hedge hound versus hellhound?” he got asked as he was flipping through his paperwork.

Laurie didn’t even look up. “Come on, Jack. Would anyone even bet on the hedge hound in that?” he asked. “No way the hedge hound can strangle fast enough to avoid being burned?”

“Well, maybe that’s the angle,” Jack mused. “Can the hedge hound kill the hellhound before it’s forced to regenerate? We make the odds stay with no, give ‘em a chance to bet on the longshot. Make a little money on a last minute fight.” He shrugged and patted Laurie on the back. “Good thinking. Get them ready.”

Laurie grumbled to himself as he headed toward the hedge hound cage. He kept grumbling as a few others stepped in to help get the beasts upstairs and into cages on either side of the pit ring. Once the bell rang and the cages were opened, Laurie leaned against the wall, barely caring enough to watch. As predicted, the hellhound burned hot and ended things rather quickly. But at least that meant both were going back to the cages. One less thing he’d have to hear about later.

The action continued in the ring, but since it was two part-timers against each other, neither was anything Laurie needed to care about. He went about his nightly routine, heading down the hall over and over with buckets of fresh meat, rotting meat, specialty plants, and anything else needed in the night’s food schedule. He had his beasts’ cage locations memorized by this point, and Laurie could let his mind wander some while working. He occasionally risked putting in earbuds, but not being able to hear the beasts always put him on edge.

“Easy night?” Jack asked, leaning against the wall in Laurie’s resource room as things upstairs must have wrapped up.

“Go fuck yourself,” Laurie responded without any heat. “Explain to me why that light was close enough to sunshine to actually kill my baukbear?”

“Your baukbear?” Jack repeated instead of answering the question.

Laurie rolled his eyes and filled another bucket of grains to finish out tonight’s feed list. “I’m the one who had to do all that work to get ready for it, so yeah. Mine. All this work to keep these beasts alive, and what thanks do I get? Certainly none from them, and then you let your prize fighter kill something that should be hard to kill in this setting.”

Jack shrugged. “Not my prize fighter any more than your baukbear. Neither of us gets paid enough for those claims.”

Laurie snorted and raised the bucket in a sort of toast. “All right, fine. I’ll give you that.”

#wr writing #self-writing

4 notes · View notes

lauriescage · 2 months

Text

That Kind of Night || Self-Writing

Location: Grit Pit

Content warning: References to violence

“Hedge hound versus hellhound?” he got asked as he was flipping through his paperwork.

Laurie didn’t even look up. “Come on, Jack. Would anyone even bet on the hedge hound in that?” he asked. “No way the hedge hound can strangle fast enough to avoid being burned?”

“Easy night?” Jack asked, leaning against the wall in Laurie’s resource room as things upstairs must have wrapped up.

“Go fuck yourself,” Laurie responded without any heat. “Explain to me why that light was close enough to sunshine to actually kill my baukbear?”

“Your baukbear?” Jack repeated instead of answering the question.

Jack shrugged. “Not my prize fighter any more than your baukbear. Neither of us gets paid enough for those claims.”

Laurie snorted and raised the bucket in a sort of toast. “All right, fine. I’ll give you that.”

#wr writing #self-writing

0 notes

mournfulroses · 2 months

Text

Anne Sexton, from a letter featured in Anne Sexton; A Self-Portrait In Letters

#lit #anne sexton #letters #quote #words #a self-portrait in letters #fragments #quotes #writings #p

9K notes · View notes

astoryaboutmi · 4 months

Text

DIA O4

Escreva sobre momentos ou ocasiões que você se sentiu ou se sente muito amada. Escrita Terapêutica por @Vanessa Rodler

#self-writing

0 notes

waitingforthesunrise · 10 months

Text

and very, very often, self care is not plants and ice rollers and fluffy blankets of peace.

it’s standing over your kitchen sink and crying while doing the dishes because you just want to go back to bed but the dishes need done. and you don’t know why you’re crying but you're trusting you need it. and you aren’t listening to the music that pulls you into a spiral; you’re listening to some cheerful shit your friend sent you. it’s getting up and staring at your fridge and closing your eyes and then cooking yourself food even though you hate it and it’s miserable. because you know that you’d cook for your friend, and you are trying to befriend yourself. it’s dragging yourself into the shower because you know you’ll feel better afterwards. it’s doing mundane tasks with patience, cursing under your breath, trying desperately to give yourself grace. grace is the beginning of care. care is the beginning of love.

we think it’s supposed to be peace and yet the most powerful self care moments are when we hate everything but especially ourselves. and life does not feel worth the loving. to look into that pain and yet choose to care for yourself in however many pieces you are — that is care. love. grace. trust. belief. it hurts because it’s love where there was no love before. it heals because it believes there will be love, one day, soon.

#Original writing #Self care

34K notes · View notes

lgbtlunaverse · 3 months

Text

There's a version of the "don't go grocery shopping while hungry" rule specifically for writers where you should never under any circumstances be allowed to touch your draft within 3 hours of reading a really good story. Because sometimes when you read something great your head goes "fuck this is so much better than my stuff I should make that more like THIS instead!" Look at me. That's the devil talking and you should close the document NOW.

#you will make superficial edits that do not gell well with the rest of your work #and won't actually capture what you thought was so good about that story #close the doc. sit down. think about it for a while. inspiration is fine. getting a 'eureka' moment from another story is fine #but if you find yourself comparing your work one to one with someone else's and taking any differences to be flaws on your part then STOP #you will never write good stuff by trying to make it look less like you wrote it #writing #writing advice #guess who just had to go into her google doc history and undo a bunch of panic-induced edits #because she read a fic about the same characters she's writing for?#meeee. they aged badly within just a few hours of hindsight. learn from my mistakes #self-hatred is not a good motivation for creation #fic writing

10K notes · View notes

ivynightshade · 5 months

Text

fatima aamer bilal, from i mother it the absence of her, iii. i am not a person that can be loved for a very long time excerpt from moony moonless sky.

10K notes · View notes

haleyincarnate · 6 months

Text

Inspired by @kosmiklia

#hmh #kosmiklia #writing #mine #quote #quote art #collage art #self love #worth #reminder #deserving

8K notes · View notes

lipikkawrites · 2 months

Text

Time does not heal your grief, it teaches you to how to wear it.

-@lipikkawrites

5K notes · View notes

bishy437 · 3 months

Text

he won

bonus:

6K notes · View notes

chloesimaginationthings · 1 month

Text

This is basically Michael in FNAF Sister location,,

6K notes · View notes

shegetsburned · 2 months

Text

archeology teacher w. kento nanami *ੈ✩‧₊˚

.nsfw. ⁀➷ part II

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who’s your first-semester teacher for your anthropology major.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who was recommended by one of your friends so you took his archeology class.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who’s considerate and kind towards his students, and has an inspiring passion for history although he comes off as stoic and aloof.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who laid his eyes on you the first time when you came after class to his desk to ask questions, leaving a permanent impression on him with your cute demeanour and bright smile. your interest made him question his.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento whose athletic build molded by his tight blue shirt attracted your gaze more than once while he explained roman architecture with his back turned toward the class.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento whose subtle eye contact makes your heart flutter and your thighs clench together. he’ll always find your gaze whether you’re at the back of the class or on the sides.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who won’t hesitate to take overtime if it means being able to deepen the subject with you and help you in any way he can.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who shifts closer to you while showing you slides of ancient artifacts, occasionally brushing your elbow with his.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who’s normally capable of separating sentimentalism from service, but can’t get you out of his head. thinking of you in ways he shouldn’t be thinking about when it comes to his students.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento whose hunger becomes more and more insatiable the more time he spends with you. his focus failing him every time you look into his eyes while he speaks or when you touch his elbow as you get up from your seat at the end of the studying session.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who closes the door behind the last student after a two-hour long class on a friday evening, leaving you two alone. despite his tired figure, he insists that he can still work on some subjects with you.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento whose explanations are unusually incomprehensible and languorous. you ask if you should call it a day but his demanding eyes tell you otherwise.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who leans on his desk, inattentively misplacing his stuff and shifting his weight closer to you, his cologne blesses your nostrils when his neck is to your height, forcing you to look up.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento whose heavy breath lends on your forehead when his hands grab the sides of your chair, pulling you closer, his thumb just slightly caresses your thighs sending shivers down your spine.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who gives up any kind of restraint and self-control that inevitably comes with the job when he lifts you up on the desk, placing a ravenous kiss upon your lips, his hands tracing your curves up and down.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who hurries his movements, skillfully undressing you with little to no regard for anyone that might enter and watch him fuck his student.

“n-nanami. is it okay?” you ask against his lips, already melting into his touch. you were certainly more concerned than him for the consequences.

but he had watched you for weeks, rubbing yourself against your chair, nervously biting your lips and nibbling at your pen while he taught the class. he had enough of your subtle grins and teasing smiles.

“i don’t care.”

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who gets off on your shy moans that echo through the whole amphitheatre. your hesitant whines are blocked by one of your hands until he grabs your wrist, pulling it down against the desk.

“let me hear you, sweetheart. let the whole school hear you.”

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who lowers your pants and underwear before unbuckling his belt and steadying himself right in front of your entrance, a grin on his lips when you ask for him by pulling his tie down.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who mercilessly pounds into you, holding your hands down behind you and bending your body so your back arches against the wooden desk.

you wrapped your legs around him, pushing his weight forward, asking for him deeper, but the sheer size of his member was already enough to completely fill you. whenever he moved, it bruised your tight pussy, completely covering him with your seed.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who places gentle kisses upon your ear and neck despite how greedily he fucks you. your nails dig into the desk to maintain yourself, every time he thrusts in.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who easily but patiently leads you to multiple orgasms, keeping you in his class for more than one hour of overtime.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who lets no part of your body undiscovered, leaving no place for the imagination when you end up completely naked as he eats your pulsating cunt just like you expected he would.

₊˚ପ⊹ archeology teacher!kento who watches you leave his class for the tenth time, but this time satisfied. you left a delicious imprint on his lips and his hands that he’d think about for the whole weekend. he knew he needed to have you all to himself now and promised he’d ask you out for a proper date next time, hoping you wouldn’t say no to a teacher who had taught you so much already.

4K notes · View notes

malcolmschmitz · 1 month

Text

So, there's a dirty little secret in indie publishing a lot of people won't tell you, and if you aren't aware of it, self-publishing feels even scarier than it actually is.

There's a subset of self-published indie authors who write a ludicrous number of books a year, we're talking double digit releases of full novels, and these folks make a lot of money telling you how you can do the same thing. A lot of them feature in breathless puff pieces about how "competitive" self-publishing is as an industry now.

A lot of these authors aren't being completely honest with you, though. They'll give you secrets for time management and plotting and outlining and marketing and what have you. But the way they're able to write, edit, and publish 10+ books a year, by and large, is that they're hiring ghostwriters.

They're using upwork or fiverr to find people to outline, draft, edit, and market their books. Most of them, presumably, do write some of their own stuff! But many "prolific" indie writers are absolutely using ghostwriters to speed up their process, get higher Amazon best-seller ratings, and, bluntly, make more money faster.

When you see some godawful puff piece floating around about how some indie writer is thinking about having to start using AI to "stay competitive in self-publishing", the part the journalist isn't telling you is that the 'indie writer' in question is planning to use AI instead of paying some guy on Upwork to do the drafting.

If you are writing your books the old fashioned way and are trying to build a readerbase who cares about your work, you don't need to use AI to 'stay competitive', because you're not competing with these people. You're playing an entirely different game.

#on writing #self-publishing #ai discourse #publishing #my freaking industry #indie publishing

4K notes · View notes

astoryaboutmi · 4 months

Text

Dia O3

Desenvolvemos nosso autocuidado quando nos dedicamos ao nosso amor por nós mesmos. Liste coisas que você pode fazer sozinha e se sentir bem com isso. Você tem feito as coisas desta lista? Por onde você poderia começar? Escrita Terapêutica por @Vanessa Rodler

Eu gosto de sair sozinha. Sair para ir ao cinema, ao teatro, para ir a museus, exposições, gosto de fazer as coisas no meu tempo, de poder admirar as obras, ler as descrições, as histórias, sem pressa nenhuma. Quando vou acompanhada, tenho a impressão de incomodar pela minha lentidão, e me sinto culpada em passar horas e horas. E sinto que não consigo realmente aproveitar o momento. Também gosto de viajar sozinha, traçar os meus próprios trajetos, selecionar os lugares que eu gostaria de conhecer e me permitir passar quanto tempo eu quiser nesse lugar. De escolher e conhecer restaurantes, sem me preocupar em conciliar o que os outros também gostariam de comer naquele momento. Gosto de ficar sozinha em casa, e ter a oportunidade de fazer as coisas no meu tempo. Arrumar uma estante, ler algum livro, ver alguma série, simplesmente ficar deitada na cama. São nesses momentos em que mais me sinto relaxada, já que existe tanta pressão na minha vida, no meu dia-a-dia devido ao trabalho... Que, simplesmente fazer o que eu quiser, quando eu quiser, se torna a melhor coisa do mundo para mim. Dessas coisas, raramente consigo fazê-las durante o ano. Apesar de me sentir muito solitária, sem amigos verdadeiros, também me sinto um pouco responsável por distrair e proporcionar passeios legais para minha mãe. Então, nunca saio sozinha, ou fico sozinha em casa, e coisa do tipo.

#self-writing

0 notes

just-french-me-up · 1 year

Text

I'm sorry, cringe culture can't come to the phone right now. Why? Oh, cause it's dead!

46K notes · View notes

heart-of-the-morningstar · 3 months

Text

✨Sensitivity✨

I am an absolute SLUT for Luci’s wings so I wanted to write something with them :), huge thank you to @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis for the help 💖

Also I’m legit on a cruise ship rn, but @amberlouise473 knows I gotta feed y’all like I’m tossing corn to my chickens 🤣

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: You’re super curious about Lucifer’s wings, but neither of you knew how sensitive they were. You didn’t know how sensitive you could be either…

Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, ruined clothes, pet names, oral (f receiving), face riding, over stimulation, multiple orgasms

It was time for bed and Lucifer was still working. You knew he worked late sometimes but this seemed a little later than usual. You decided to take a look to see if he was still in his office. Sure enough, you saw him sitting down at his desk when you entered the room. But when you looked closer, you saw that he’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting in his arms. He looked so peaceful lying there, you almost didn’t want to disturb him. But you knew he’d feel a lot better if he actually slept in your bed instead of hunched over his desk. Quietly, you walked towards him trying not to make any loud noises that might startle him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly.

“Luci?,” you whispered, “Luci, it’s time for bed, wake up sleepy head.” He moaned quietly, but your shaking didn’t seem to have done the trick. You shook his shoulder a little hard. “Luci, c’mon hon.” Nothing. You took your other hand and placed it on his other shoulder, shaking him even more. “Lucifer!,” you nearly screamed!

With that, Lucifer’s eyes shot open, pushing himself off the desk. “AAHHH!!! WHAT?!?! What’s going on?!,” he yelled. You never saw him so frazzled before, it was kind of cute. But what you really didn’t expect was to see Lucifer’s wings spring out from his back. It must have been an involuntary reaction from the shock of being woken up so suddenly. His eyes found yours and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, it’s you, darling,” he breathed. “You really scared me there! I guess I must have fallen asleep, forgive me.” You were only half listening to him at this moment, your gaze was still fixed on his angelic wings. You’d only seen them once or twice before, but never for long. It was then that Lucifer turned his head and noticed what had caught your attention. “Oh! Sorry about that, it’s a defense mechanism, as silly as that sounds. I’ll put them away-”

“No, wait!”, you shouted louder than you meant to. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding why you had stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…I never get to see your wings. They’re really beautiful.”

A light blush dashed across his face, he gave you a shy smile. “O-oh, thank you! I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“That’s a shame,” you pouted, “I think they’re incredible.” You walked closer to him to get a better look at them. Their white and red coloring were breathtaking. Their length took up almost the entirety of the room you were in, and his office was not small in the least. A tiny part of you wondered if he always had red feathers, or if they had changed after he…

Perhaps that was a question for another time.

“Are they heavy?,” you inquired.

“Oh! Umm, I don’t think so,” Lucifer pondered. “I don’t really notice if they are. I might have gotten used to them over the last 10,000 or so years.”

“Can I…touch them?,” you asked shyly, averting Lucifer’s gaze.

He smiled. “Of course, love. Let’s go back to our room, shall we?”

Lucifer’s wings disappeared for now as he gently grabbed your hand and led you out of his office. Once you reached your bedroom, he unfastened his shirt and threw it off to the side. It made you blush, even though his bare chest was not a new sight to you. Lucifer noticed your reddened face and smirked.

“It’s a little easier this way, don’t you think?,” he chuckled. He walked over to the bed and sat down, crossing his legs in the process. He tapped his thigh, offering you a seat in his lap. You smiled and wrapped your legs around his torso, straddling him. “You ready?,” he asked with a little smile. You nodded your head eagerly. In an instant, his three sets wings appeared again. You noticed something was a little different though.

“I could have sworn they were bigger,” you puzzled.

“No, you’re right, they were,” Lucifer laughed. “I can control how large or small they need to be. They might have broken something in here if they were any bigger!”

You chuckled lightly. They were even more breathtaking up close, his scarlet feathers glistened even in the dim lighting of the room. You stuck out your hands and touched the top of his first set of wings. Unexpectedly, Lucifer inhaled sharply from your touch, screwing his eyes shut. You pulled away instantly.

“Oh no!,” you gasped. “Did I hurt you? I swear I barely touched them! I’m sorry!”

Lucifer exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again. “No, no, it’s alright, love,” he cooed, “it wasn’t painful. I just didn’t expect the sensation. Let’s just say they’re…more sensitive than I originally thought.” It was only then you felt a bump forming between your legs.

Oh…OH!

You quickly caught on to what he was referring to. And having you straddle his lap probably wasn’t helping. A small smirk crept across your face. You couldn’t resist the urge to make him squirm from your touch; the thought excited you.

“Well, in that case…” you smiled slyly, reaching out for his wings once more. This time, you gave them a slightly firmer grip than before. Lucifer nearly yelped from your touch and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You ran your hands up and down the tops of his wings, almost massaging them in a way. Lucifer was unable to hold back his moans.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he panted.

You loved the sight of him bending so easily to your simple touches. You wondered if you could break him. You began to shift your hips in his lap, grinding on the now very apparent bulge in his pants. Lucifer nearly sobbed as you ground your hips against him. You moved your hands down to his second set of wings to give them some attention. You could tell he was unraveling quickly.

“D-Dear,” he choked out, “i-if you don’t stop, I’m g-gonna…f-fuck…”

His plea only made you grind against him at a faster pace while continuing to stroke his sensitive wings. At this point he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, only broken moans and gutural sounds left his lips. You moved your hands down to his smallest set of his wings, pinching them between your fingers.

“FuckfuckfuckFUCK,” Lucifer cried out as your movements finally pushed him over the edge. He bit down on your shoulder as he came, completely ruining in pants. Once he came down from his high, he looked into your eyes, almost distraught.

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I-I didn’t think that…I didn’t mean to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His wings disappeared from sight as he buried his head into you chest

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you told him as you lifted his head up to plant a tender kiss to his lips. The small tears that had formed in his eyes fell down the side of his face, but you wiped them away with your thumbs. “Luci, please don’t apologize,” you soothed. “You never have to feel sorry for that! Did you feel good?”

Lucifer steadied his breathing, trying his best to calm down. “Yes, love, it was amazing. You’re amazing.” He lifted you off his lap and placed you on the mattress while he stood up, discarding the rest of his now filthy clothes. “But I absolutely refuse to be the only one being pleasured tonight.”

Without warning, Lucifer leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, filing your mouth with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, feeling as though you might be devoured by him. Lucifer tugged at the hem of your pajama pants, asking permission to remove them. “Mhmm,” was all you could mumble. In one swift motion, your pants had vanished and all you felt was the cool air on your legs. Lucifer brought down his fingers to your folds, loving the feeling of how wet you were for him. He captured your moan on his lips, but suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving you to whine in protest.

Lucifer broke your kiss and brought his soaked finger to his lips, tasting your sweet nectar. “Mmm, you always taste so delectable, darling,” he marveled. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, he knew just what buttons to press when it came to you. He crawled back up on the bed and laid flat on his back, his head propped up by the pillows. “Come have a seat, sweetheart,” he teased as he pointed to his coy smiling face.

Your face became extreme hot as you crawled towards the demon king. You made your way on top of him and came to a halt when your dripping cunt hovered right above Lucifer’s eager smile.

“A meal fit for a king, truly,” he laughed as he dug his face into your aching pussy. You nearly screamed as his forked tongue worked his magic along your slit. He devoured you, making sure every inch of you was consumed. His lips found your clit and started to kiss and suck at it. He’d only just started and you were ready to snap.

“O-Oh my God, Lucifer, shhhiiittt, I’m so close…s-s-so close…,” you whined.

“God can’t hear you down here, angel,” he teased you before continuing to lap at your folds. He made quick work of you, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

“Fuuuuccckkkk, imcummingIMCUMMIMG,” you screamed as you finally felt your walls clench and spasm around nothing. Lucifer happily swallowed your juices as your orgasm started to recede. You tried to lift yourself up off Lucifer’s face, but he kept a firm grip on your legs.

“I’m not done with you, love,” he chuckled. With a snap of his fingers, golden shackles formed around your ankles, the chain hooked underneath Lucifer’s back. A twisted look of fear and passion flashed across your face. You were trapped.

“L-Luci…what are you-” you tried to asked but were cut off by another long lick up your sensitive cunt. A gutural moan escaped your mouth, you still hadn’t fully recovered from your orgasm.

“I thought it would only be fair to ruin you, since you ruined my clothes,” he chastised playfully. “But if at any time it becomes too much for you, tell me and I’ll let you go immediately, okay?”

“Al-Alright,” you stuttered, trembling from the anticipation.

Lucifer hummed against your lower lips. “I’ll make this a little easier for you, sweetheart.” You saw Lucifer’s form start to change beneath you. His horns had erupted from his head while his eyes shifted to a deep red and gold color with onyx irises. “Something for you to hold onto,” he murmured sensually.

Tentatively, you took hold of his horns and braced yourself for his next move. You didn’t have to wait long before you felt his tongue attacking your cunt once more. The grip you had on his horns could have torn your skin clean off with how tight you were holding them while he nipped and sucked your overstimulated clit. Before you knew it, your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first. Then your third, your fourth, your cunt was getting absolutely abused by Lucifer who hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down since he started. After your fifth orgasm washed over you, your legs had given out from under you, completely collapsing on top of Lucifer.

“No more…,” you begged. “No more, please…”

Lucifer snapped his fingers and the shackles around your ankles disappeared in an instant. You conjured up the remainder of your strength to push yourself off him and roll over onto your side, an absolutely breathless mess. You could hardly keep your eyes open. You could feel yourself losing consciousness until Lucifer pulled you flush to his chest.

“You did so well, my dear,” he murmured against your ear. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“Sleep…” was all you could muster. Lucifer chuckled lightly, kissing your cheek ever so softly.

“Goodnight, love,” you heard him whisper as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. It was the best sleep you ever had.

~~~~

“I just think they’re neat!” - Me w/ Lucifer’s wings also Lucifer inventend pussy eating, this is fact, ALSO also something something handlebar horns

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #my writing #I’m not sorry for this #this was super self indulgent 😂#enjoy the new goofy Luci face!#a goofy face is my calling card lol #I was writing a lot of this in a public area I hope y’all appreciate the risks I take lmao

3K notes · View notes