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#God's word is unchanging

bobaboob · 3 months

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hi beautiful rae!! 🩷 if you’re feeling up for it please do tell me how diluc confessed to you 🥺 im desperate to know

gray and luna my loves these scenarios happen to be one and the same hehe <3

i feel like heidiluc's Lore changes like daily for me depending on what daydreams i had the previous night lmfao... but what possibly happened is this:

so after heidi has been living in mondstadt for a while, she gets turned down for some prestigious geologist position in another nation she was preparing for months for.

diluc is, of course, devasted for her when she tells him the news, her eyes half filled with tears and a wan smile on her face, as she downs another fruity cocktail (he tells himself he’s devastated. he wanted her to have this opportunity. the fact that she’d be leaving mondstadt if she got the job has no effect on him or his feelings and he’s not relieved in the slightest.)

it’s close to the end of the night, and heidi is close to sloshed. he’s never seen her drink like this before, and it’s worrying him to say the least; it feels like no matter how little liquor he puts in her drinks, the flush on her cheeks and the glassiness of her eyes only grows. eventually, he asks charles to cover him and gently persuades her to let him walk her home.

they get a few steps out the door, diluc standing at a respectful distance, his hand hovering near her as she stumbles down the street, when she suddenly crumples to the ground.

she’s unhurt, but she’s on her knees and sobbing now and he can’t think of anything to do but hold her until she calms down.

he tries to soothe her and get her to let him carry her home, but she tells him through garbled words that she doesn’t HAVE a home anymore, she broke her lease on it because she was so positive this job was going to work out and now she has nowhere to stay for the night.

he blinks at her. “if that’s all that’s wrong, why don’t you come to the manor tonight and we’ll figure it out in the morning?”

"oh. i... i would appreciate that..."

and so diluc half-walks half-carries her back to the manor, her eyes red and puffy, but she’s smiling for the first time today in between apologies. she’s sober enough to walk now, but he insists on keeping her upright anyways. both of them pretend it’s normal.

they get to the lake outside the grape fields and heidi asks if they can stay there a while to look at the stars before they go inside, and diluc couldn’t deny her for the world

heidi points out the constellations to him for a long time, leaning on his shoulder and describing the stories behind all of them. he’s barely hearing her with how loudly his heart is beating in his ears. eventually, she seems to run out of steam and buries her head into his chest.

“it’s probably a good thing i didn’t get the job, i think. i’d miss the stars here if i left…”

and her face turns to his as she says it, her head against his lapel, and she’s never looked more beautiful and diluc can’t breathe thinking about how close he was to letting her slip through his fingers.

he’s staring at her so intently that he doesn’t notice his hand coming to bring her chin up, the other settling on the back of her neck, until she’s staring up at him with wide eyes and all the stars of mondstadt in them.

“stop me, heidi.” his voice has never been softer or more vulnerable. “please. i-i’ll bring you back to the manor and you can forget everything i’m about to say or do. just tell me you don’t want… this. me.”

she’s so shocked that neither of them say a thing for a moment, until suddenly there’s tears in her eyes again, and oh, archons, she’s laughing, it’s over-

“i love you too, ‘luc. wanna kiss about it?”

her eyes are shining, and when she smiles up at him he can’t keep himself from pressing his lips to hers.

heidi and diluc share their first kiss of many under the stars of the mondstadt countryside.

and that is one of several ways i’ve thought about the confession going ! <3

#heidiluc #selfship #akdfjlakd you guys are so nice to me #diluc has a lot of end-of-book mr darcy #my affections are unchanged #but one word from you will silence me forever #energy #and heidi is very #oh thank God i've been trying to get you to kiss me for WEEKS

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officialyourdailyinspiration · 1 year

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Everlasting Truth

The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever. - Isaiah 40:8

So much changes in life, Lord. Just when I think I'm secure, I can almost count on some fluctuation, and my world becomes different again. Just as the seasons change and flowers die off, life is constantly moving.

But your truths remain the same no matter the season. Your Word doesn't say one thing in Spring and another in the Fall. It always shows me what You are like and never changes. I can count on Scripture always to be truthful and to lead me in the right path.

Thank You, Lord, for sharing Your everlasting truth with me. Help me to be steadfast in clinging to Your way.

#Everlasting Truth #Isaiah 40:8 #Word of God #eternal #unchanging

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granonine · 1 month

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RESH

Psalm 119:153-160. Consider mine affliction, and deliver me: for I do not forget Thy law. Plead my cause, and deliver me: quicken me according to Thy word. Salvation is far from the wicked: for they seek not Thy statutes. Great are Thy tender mercies; quicken me according to Thy judgments. Many are my persecutors and mine enemies; yet do I not decline from Thy testimonies. I beheld the…

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#153-160 #aff;ictions and trials #endures forever #God&039;s tender mercies #God&039;s Word is unchanging #His word is true #Psa;#RESH

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tom4jc · 11 months

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Psalm 100:5 Enduring Truth

For the Lord is good; His mercy is everlasting, and His truth endures to all generations. Psalm 100:5 Truth is something that is factual and cannot change at any time. Once something is true, it will never become false. People claim to want to know the truth about many different things. However, with mankind’s limited knowledge, knowing the absolute truth is difficult. Over time, various things…

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#changing #discovering truth #enduring #God&039;s word #knowing truth #Psalm 100:5 #Truth #Unchanging

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luveline · 8 months

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how about spencer x badass reader and they are wearing couple or similar clothes intentionally or unintentionally?? I think that would be cutee

tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks, sounding like a kid in a candy store, a crisp twenty in his back pocket.

Emily follows his line of sight and feels her cheeks apple unbidden, a delighted smile on her painted lips. "Oh, my god."

"Yeah, Garcia?" Derek asks, phone to his ear, Penelope first on his speed dial. "You need to come and see this. Like, right now. Don't worry, baby, just come and see it for yourself."

"I don't even know what to say." Emily stares at you.

You usually dress in line with the other women in this profession: pants that aren't too tight so you can run in if needed, a simple blouse, and a blazer if you're feeling formal.

Today, you've opted for something softer. It was a slow change, one day you were wearing a cashmere sweater, thin and fitted to your form. Another day, you chose to layer your shirt with a cardigan of a similar colour.

Right now? You're all Spencer. Your slacks remain unchanged but your blouse has been swapped for a shirt with a stiff starched collar and layered under what can only be described as a grandpa sweater. It's not quite ugly, but it's almost identical to Spencer's.

What's more, you've swapped your boots for converse.

Spencer holds the door for you. He's chosen to wear a tie at least, clinging to that last strand of professional business attire. He has two coffees, one in each hand, while you carry a box. He's all elbows as he talks to you, and you, ever his fan, follow every word with a fond smile.

"Hey, are you guys sharing a wardrobe now?" Derek asks, absolutely unwilling to hold back.

Emily piles on, "It's cute! You're totally an old married couple, you look like my grandparents."

"What happened to your boots, lovergirl?" Derek asks, nodding at your cons, arms crossed over the back of his chair casually. "Don't get me wrong, I'm loving the sneakers."

"You guys totally match," Emily coos. "You could be on a Christmas card."

You smile —you smile, Emily might just call the news— and walk past them to your desk. Hotch has moved you away from Spencer knowing you'll encourage his endless chattering, which places you on a different island of desks next to Anderson and Agent Camille.

Spencer put his coffee down on his desk, taking off his messenger bag. "Nice going, guys. She brought you donuts. You know, to apologise for calling you both antagonistic losers yesterday," he says, smiling at the mutual horror that crops up on their faces. "The fancy kind, too. She knew your favourite flavours without asking."

From her desk, Emily can see you've opened the box and offered them to your desk mates, your expression unperturbed. "Just don't touch the chocolate sprinkle ones, they're for Spencer," you say.

No matter what they say, how sorry they sound, you give out the donuts to anyone who'll take one until they're all gone. When Garcia arrives, she finds you sitting in your desk chair with your head leaning against Spencer's stomach, taking alternate bites of the same sprinkle-covered donut like it isn't the most domestic, coupley thing you could be doing.

Unlike Emily and Derek, Penelope genuinely thinks you look cute. "You guys are like Brangelina," she breathes, eyes wide, her smile infectious.

Spencer fails to hide a grin, his hand on your shoulder. You're better at controlling your emotion, sliding a small parcelled package across the desk toward her.

"Thank you, Pen," you say. "I like the shoes. They're comfy. And the sweater was a gift." Spencer nods enthusiastically.

That explains why you'd taken such an offence. Anything to do with Spencer raises your hackles. If you felt someone was making fun of his present to you, you'd defend him with your last dying breath, or, in this instance, punish your coworkers in his honour.

"I'm sorry," Derek apologises again, "I was kidding! What do you want me to do, you want me to wear a sweater vest too? I can do that."

You reach back to touch Spencer's side, levelling Derek with an impartial look. Not mad, not sad. Totally indifferent. "That could be a good start."

Spencer hums. "I think so. You wanna borrow one of mine?"

The barest hint of a smile plays on your lips. "That's generous, Spence. You're a philanthropist."

"I am." He strokes the slope of your sweater-clad shoulder proudly. "You know me, I love sharing my wardrobe."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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mitsies · 10 months

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12 minutes. that's how long it's been since you texted itoshi sae back. 12 whole minutes.

he frowns at his phone, glaring daggers at the poor innocent screen that's really done nothing wrong. he hopes you can feel his stare through the device. 12 minutes is a long, long time; what could you possibly be doing that could be more important than texting your boyfriend back?

he stares at the screen as time ticks on. 12 minutes becomes 12 minutes and 30 seconds. 40. 50. 55. 59. 13 minutes. now, that is entirely too long. but he can’t double text because he’s not that desperate, he thinks. (he is. but his ego is fragile.) so he opts to state some more. and then a little more after that.

at the 13 minute and 45 second mark, his hand hovers tentatively over the call button as he debates his next moves; would calling you make him look a fool? or would it perhaps save you from whatever kidnapper was trying to nab you, or alien trying to abduct you? because in sae’s book, those were the only viable reasons as to why you may not message him back right away.

he gives in and calls you. he counts every single ring until you finally, finally pick up: “sae? hello?”

a wave of tension melts off his bones, anxiety he hadn’t even realised was building. relief tastes good and minty on his tongue as he relishes the sound of your voice. how honey-sweet is always sounded whenever you said his name. he doesn’t even realise he’s verbally ghosted you until you ask, “is anyone even there?”

“yeah. i’m here.”

he doesn’t need to be there to see the expression on your face— you look annoyed, confused, miffed. so pretty, too, always pretty. he’s not whipped though. not whipped, not desperate. just a regular guy worried about his girlfriend. (he’s not that pathetic— right?)

“why are you calling me? what’s up?”

he feels petulant and whiny like a child when he speaks as levelly as he can, “you didn’t answer my text.”

he’s not desperate. and he’s not whipped. but you laugh over the phone, and sae feels himself falling, positively swooning like the sappiest little bitch in town.

“babe, my last text to you was ‘bye’. i had to drive.”

oh. he supposes that you’re right. embarrassment mixes with indignation mixed with unbridled affection as he grasps for straws, “i know. i just wanted to make sure you got there okay.”

he hears you snort a laugh on the other end of the phone and he’s melting again despite his unchanged appearance. his free hand thrums against the table he’s seated at as he hangs on your every word, movement, sound, action.

“sure. sure you did. and now that you know i’m okay, it’s cool if i hang up, right?”

he responds a little too quickly. “no. stay on the line.”

“why should i?”

he narrows his eyes. “don’t be difficult.”

“okay. i’ll leave, then—“

“wait.”

a pause. he speaks again: “i just want to talk to you. stay with me.”

you almost want to push more, to tease a bit. to make him say please. but your stomach is already churning like crazy and you’ve got a swath of butterflies in your chest and god, do you love him. so you just say, “okay.”

you hear the slightest smile in his voice when he replies. “thank you.”

itoshi sae is usually not desperate. he’s not whipped, he doesn’t say please, he doesn’t say thanks. but for you? he thinks he can change the rules, just a little, if that’s what it means to have you.

#itoshi sae x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #bllk #itoshi sae #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #bllk sae #blue lock sae #reader insert

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chososdiscordkitten · 5 months

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Choso's First time♡

MDNI

pairing: Choso x afab!reader

Content : no use of y/n or descriptions of how reader looks, established relationship, reader talks about their first time, male self pleasure, sooo many kisses, reader sends choso a porn twt acc, guided masturbation, corruption if you squint, reader isnt a virgin, fingering, oral (f! receiving), Choso is a munch confirmed, multiple orgasms (f & m), readers perfume mentioned like once

Word count: 7.92k

ao3 link here

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Your relationship with Choso had been going smoothly, an innocent love bloomed between you two. Till the thought of innocence was completely pushed to the back of your heads.

Choso recently felt himself yearning for more. Every time he kissed you it felt like coming home. Small pecks on your lips as he wondered what was missing.

After every gentle peck Choso gave you, he would pull away, and lean in to give you another. Always wanting to kiss you longer. Wondering what came after.

Wanting to ask you but too anxious he would make you uncomfortable. The mere thought sent chills down his spine and caused his cheeks to turn pink.

In all honesty, this was a thought in your head long before it was in Choso’s. Dirty thoughts clouded your mind whenever he would roll up the sleeves on his button up, when he would undo the top two buttons on his shirts.

When he would compare his big hands to yours, tantalizing thick fingers that gave you goosebumps. Persuading your own mind into popping one of them into your mouth, just to see what he would do.

When he would reach the top shelf of the cupboards and his t-shirts would ride up, giving you a peek at his happy trail. At times you thought he did it on purpose, but the sweet smile on his face when he looked at you, always made you feel like a man in the medieval times seeing a woman's ankles for the first time.

Months of agonizing celibacy was eating away at you, not even being able to take care of it on your own since Choso was always near. You always had the question in the back of your mind, if he knew what sex was. If he had thought about it.

If he looked at you with the same lust filled eyes you looked at him with. But you knew it had to be slow, Choso’s first relationship had to be something where he controlled the pace. But god, if he asked?

Without hesitation, you'd say “Yes.”

On one late evening, a few minutes before bed, he leaned in to kiss you. Eyes blinking shut as his hand held your cheek. Pressing his plush lips to yours.

Except this time he didn't pull away, only pushing himself closer to you as his eyebrows furrowed. You took the hint and tilted your head, making the kiss more inviting to him. Choso opened his mouth slightly, almost begging you for more.

Taking this as an invitation, you licked his bottom lip for permission, feeling his free hand snake to your back as you held onto his shoulder. Choso groaned lightly, feeling you open your mouth against him.

Sucking at his bottom lip as he tried to copy your movements. You moved your head the other direction, his nose brushing past yours as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. Exploring it in its entirety as he let out soft whines, making you feel a familiar ache form in between your thighs.

His body shifting to be above you, his forearm holding him up as the other roamed down to the hem of your shirt. Your hands on his neck and in his hair as he inhaled sharply. He'd much rather not breathe than break the kiss and be away from you.

Choso felt the appendage between his legs jump. It didn't seem like a surprise to him, seeing his face go unchanged when you opened your eyes half way after feeling it against your leg.

To Choso, the appendage between his legs was no more than a tool to go to the restroom. But every now and then, when you'd nuzzle your cheek against his hand it would jump in excitement.

The first time it happened, he took it as a ‘normal human thing’ but he noticed it would only happen with you. When he would see that you texted him. And everytime you kissed his cheek in adoration. He knew people would use that part of their bodies to procreate, but

Choso didn't think he could use it to procreate. If so, would it even work? He spent very little time worrying about it, but now? Choso thought about why he feels like this. Especially now.

Your hand roamed from his hair down his back, lifting up the bottom of his shirt and wasting no time in making contact with his bare hip. Inching up his back as your nails grazed him lightly.

Choso’s tongue in your mouth as you gasped for air, feeling his waist buck up softly as he felt your fingertips. The pads of your fingers grazing the goosebumps that formed at your touch. Completely lost in the moment, your hand almost reached down to his sweats.

Before remembering what was really happening. “Wait-” you murmured, slowly pulling away from Choso. He pulled away, not even an inch between you two.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice was pained and whiny as a line of saliva was drawn between your lips. The look on his face alone made you want to forget your inhibitions.

Thoughts of saying ‘keep going’ flooded your mind. Choso’s puffy lips and red cheeks made this all too difficult for you. “We-” you started, shifting away from him, clearing your throat, “We can't do this.” you finished, sitting up and looking over at his face that was full of self consciousness.

“Why? You don't want to?” Choso asked, his lip pouting as he looked over at you with furrowed eyebrows in self doubt.

“No- I do. You have no idea how much I do.” you laughed, seeing his face light up at your words. “But we can't.” you continued.

“You don't want to- with me?” he asked, pain in his voice as he looked down at his hands.

“Yes, of course I do. But it's your first time-” you uttered, “I want you to be 100% sure you want to do that with me.” You voiced, Choso’s mouth already opening in defense.

“I only want to do it with you.” eyebrows puckered as he pleaded.

“Do you know what it is?” you asked, looking at his expression soften when he thought about it.

“Is it not to have children?” Choso asked, making your face turn red with embarrassment. He knew that it wasn't just to have kids. But he couldn't help himself, he wanted to hear you explain it to him.

“T-technically yes.” you stuttered. For you to stutter was rare, hardly becoming flustered when it came to serious conversations. “But people don't just have- sex, to have children.” you pronounced.

That was the first time the word 'sex' was spoken in a conversation with him, “What else could it be for?” he asked, feigning innocence looking at your lips in hunger as he sat up.

“People have sex for plenty of reasons-” you started, leaning back onto the wall as you looked at Choso. “For money, in moments of hate and anger, for power...For love.” you declared, “Sex isn't just to have children.” you laughed, thinking of how sweet it was that he thought he was ready for the responsibility of a child.

His eyes looked off, heavy in thought as you waited for him to say something. “And my first time is important- because?” Choso asked, wanting to hear you say more things that made you flustered.

“It's a first that you will never forget. A first word, the first steps as a child, the first kiss. All those things can be forgotten. But the first time you have sex?” you stated, eyebrows furrowing. “That stays with you forever.” you say, exhaling and looking up to the ceiling.

“Have you...had sex?” he asked, genuine curiosity in his eyes as he waited for your reply.

A chill ran down your spine just thinking back to your first time. “I have.” you murmured, your face grimacing at the thought. Knowing how some men find that an unredeemable quality in their partner.

Choso’s eyebrow lifted, “With who?” he asked, his voice more quiet and pained.

“With the boy that took me to junior prom.” you stated, “I was just a kid. Didn't even last longer than 5 minutes.” you declared, exhaling in anguish as you looked over at him.

“Just once?”

“Twice with him, I think. And just one other guy before I met you.” you stated, you knew you had to be honest with him, I mean who could lie to that face?

“So two people?” Choso asked, slumping down to the pillows you shared.

“Yes. That's why I'm telling you that the first time you have sex is so important.” you exhaled. “If I could, I would take those three times back and save them.” You said, turning to your side to look at him.

“Why?” his eyes looking up at you as he laid his head onto the pillows.

“So I could have my first time with you too.” You confessed, pushing stray hairs away from his face as his eyes looked up at you. You reached for his hand, as he raised his up. Opening his palm as you pressed your own to it. Slowly intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Think about it. Think about if you want me to be your first. About how you feel about me.” you stated, shifting your body to lie down next to him. Choso exhaled, almost like he was in pain.

"God-” he exhaled. “I feel everything for you.” he finished, fluttering his eyes closed as he drifted to sleep.

Your mind was so full that night, ‘what if he decided that he didn't want me?’ you thought. Even if you did the right thing, it still hurt to think if he didn’t want to do that with you.

The next few nights were torture, making it a habit of making out with eachother before bed. Always having to stop it from going any further, all you wanted in the world was to grant Choso his wish. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

One evening it went as far as him groping your chest above your t-shirt, your fingers hooked onto his waistband before you stopped. Breathless and left wanting more, looking at you with only lust in his eyes and a wet spot forming on his sweats.

You nibbled on your lip with anticipation. Blurting out if he had ever touched himself, curious on whether or not he had been able to relieve himself. Nervous eyes looked everywhere in his bedroom, trying not to look into Choso’s eyes.

“Touch myself?” he asked, pulling the blankets over his lap as he tried to hide what was forming in his sweats.

“Relieved yourself?” You asked again, his puzzled face not changing as he gulped down his nerves.

“I don’t think so?” he answered, his hand resting above the blanket as he combed the hair out of his face with his other. You exhaled, not wanting to just leave him pent up and in pain.

“Look it up on your phone.” You smiled, knowing that the internet will give him clearer answers than you'd give. His hand reached for his cell phone, curious eyes scanned the screen as he looked up what ‘touching yourself’ was.

“N-no. I haven't.” he stuttered, cheeks flush with nerves as he felt the tent in his sweats twitch.

“Try it. I'm sure you'll feel alot better after.” you smiled, giving him a soft kiss on his forehead. He was going to decline, not feeling any need or want to do that unless you showed him how.

But you sat up and got off the bed. He asked you to wait. “Do you have to leave?” he whined, reaching his hand out to you as his face churned in anguish.

“I can't be here when you do that.” you stated, small smile while you shivered at the mere thought of watching him while he jacked off. You smiled, leaning over the bed and kissing him again.

“I'll see you tomorrow.” You assured him, slipping your sandals on and leaving the room. Leaving him a blushy mess in his bed.

Once in your room, you exhaled. Jumping into your bed trying to fight off the urge to touch yourself. Finding yourself on twitter, bad intentions forming in your mind as you scrolled.

In the heat of the moment you gathered the bravery to send him a link to a porn account on twitter that mainly showed people giving handjobs. In hopes he would take that as a guide.

Choso felt his throbbing cock jump by just looking at your name pop up on his phone. He opened the link and his mouth cracked opened in shock thinking about you watching this stuff.

He sat up, back against the wall as he scrolled through the videos that were on the account. While watching the videos Choso felt nothing, he saw what was being done but he didn't feel any different by watching them.

He found a video of a faceless hand stroking a faceless cock. Slow and agonizing as clear liquid dripped out the tip. Choso shoved his pants down, wincing at the cold air hitting his throbbing head.

He looked over at his phone, reaching for his cock and trying to copy the movements. Touching his sensitive tip as he spread the leaky fluid down his shaft. Looking back to the video to see the movements, groaning in frustration.

Not being able to focus on what he was doing from the loud over exaggerated moans coming from his phone. Pressing the power button and tossing it to the foot of the bed.

Choso brought his hand back to his cock. Hesitating to touch it when he pictured the video, instead of the hand in the video he pictured yours. Reaching for the shaft and stroking slowly up as he let out a muffled cry, letting go of his cock and pulling up his shirt above his body, tossing it aside. Not hesitating in touching his cock again.

Choso's head fell back as he kept stroking himself, closing his eyes and pretending it was your hand. He whined, feeling the sharp sensation on his tip when he squeezed past it.

Slow like how the video showed him, head fuzzy with thoughts of your hands, of your lips, of your eyelashes. He kept picturing you in the same position he was in now.

In your bed, thinking about him while pleasuring yourself. He felt an unfamiliar feeling in his stomach as his hips bucked up into his own hand.

He cried out, the feeling being unbearable as his hand sped up. His mouth was hung open as tears stung the corners of his eyes. He whined as his hips thrusted up uncontrollably.

Whispers of your name fell from his lips as he kept his eyes closed. Feeling himself come undone as his hips bucked up once more. A loud cry from his mouth as his hand didn't stop pumping his cock.

Heavy breathing as he came down from the high that left his body twitching. He looked down, seeing his mess. Ropes of white fluid on his grey sweats and his hand slick with what came out of him.

Choso grimaced, scooching to the edge of the bed and standing up. His body wobbled as he tried to stand, closing his eyes as he tried to regain his balance. He stepped forward, closing his eyes and opening them in a hazy manner.

Walking into his bathroom and starting a shower. Taking his pants off and stepping in. feeling the warm water coat his body.

After that, Choso was a changed man. He had seen the light and there was no going back. He felt like he was late to this part of his life.

So every night, after making sure you were asleep, he would go to the bathroom and start a shower. Slowly stroking himself to thoughts of you. He had explored the world of porn, not for his own enjoyment but he wanted to know what to do when the day came where you finally let him make love to you.

Seeing porn as a form of studying. He had seen overproduced videos of people with no passion in their eyes. It was clear that there wasn't any love between them. Knowing that if you'd let him, it would be so much different than what the videos showed.

After countless nights of torturous self pleasure, he had settled on what he liked, what scenario he pictured you in when it came down to it.

Picturing you on your knees before him, and your soft hand stroking his cock. He thought of how he would devour you, so much so that he could drown. Choso wanted you to show him how to please you. He wanted to know what you liked.

To share with you what he had learned about himself, but he knew that it wasn't just typical conversation to be brought up whenever he wanted. Choso knew those conversations were reserved a few minutes before bed.

And you? You wanted to ask so badly how it went. Mouth watering by just the thought of it.

On this particular evening, the routine of heavy makeout sessions with heavy groping became too much for him. Your scent in the air as he inhaled deeply.

Aways preferring to sleep in your bedroom cause it smelled like you. Cock throbbing as he thrusted up into the blanket that dared separate you from him.

“I thought-” he started, kissing your mouth as spit made strings between your lips and his when he pulled away. “Of you-” he continued between kisses, “When I-” sloppy kisses and roaming hands were all part of what made you slowly unravel in his hands. “Touched myself.” he finished, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes.

Your eyebrows furrowed as he leaned down and pressed his lips to your temple. “I came thinking about you.” he whispered in your ear as his hand slid down your side.

You felt the familiar ache in your pants throb at his sweet words. Feeling Choso’s hand slip past the bottom of your shirt and slide up your torso, sending chills down your spine as he whispers again.

“Do you cum thinking of me?” hand reaching your chest and holding your ribs as his thumb curled beneath your breast. His lips brushed your ear when he spoke.

Filthy whispers as your hands held onto his bicep for dear life, in hopes you'd find the strength to be able to stop. “Yes-” you let out breathlessly, “I think of you.” you confessed, ears red with embarrassment as you felt wet kisses down your neck, your core clenching around nothing as you felt him kiss your jawline.

“What did you think about?” you breathed, feeling his lips press against your collar bones. Choso looked up at you, pupils in the shape of hearts as he closed them to kiss you.

“I thought of your hands,-” He murmured as his hand pressed against yours, feeling how soft they were against his. “Of your lips-” he professed. “Of your eyelashes.” a warm kiss against your temple as the hand that held yours pinned it to the bed. “I pictured your hand instead of mine.” He whispered into your ear as your legs spread in order to invite him.

His body shifted his weight from his forearm to settling in between your legs. You inhaled sharply through your teeth feeling the bulge against your neglected core. “I only think of you.” he vowed, closing his eyes and kissing your lips again.

“Show me.” you pulled away, looking into his eyes. Your voice now clear as the thoughts of not letting this go too far were long gone.

Choso looked into your eyes, lips parted and breathless as he felt the now familiar feeling in his stomach develop. His nose crinkled at hearing your mouth say these dirty things.

“Show me how you touched yourself.” you demanded, mouth open as your breath hitched at the thought. He looked at your lips, plump and begging for him to keep going.

His lip quivered. Chills down his spine at the thought. You pressed your lips to his, eyes half lidded as you slid your hand down his forearm. Making your way to the top of his sweatpants. “Pleasee?” you pouted, fingers slipping past the band and slowly dragging down his hip.

And who was Choso to deny you that one thing?

He pulled away, turning to his side of the bed and sitting up. He gulped, seeing you make yourself comfortable to watch him, on your belly with your chin resting your hands.

Choso looked down at the obvious wet spot in his pants. He pulled his large white t-shirt up and held the hem in his teeth, in hopes that he wouldn't moan too loudly in front of you.

His trembling hand reached down to his sweats, pulling down the band just enough to free himself from the cotton prison, hissing at the cold air that hit his leaking tip.

He looked over at you to see if you approved, only to see you staring at his cock with wide eyes and mouth cracked open. You looked up at him with a sweet smile, your mouth already watering at the sight before you.

That's all he needed to see before lifting his hand up from the bed, and grasping his cock. His thumb collected the fluid that leaked from his angry tip as he slowly stroked down his shaft.

The only description of his cock was beautiful. 9 inches tall, pale shaft and a darkening pink tip. The sheer size of him made your thighs press together in hopes to relieve the ache between them.

You watched his hand move in the way that made you conclude he knew what he liked. Muffled moans escaping his teeth as he looked over at you, hoping that it was everything you wanted to see.

This time it felt different, more exposed. More dirty than the other times he had done this.

He felt your gaze on his cock as he stroked it slowly. Whines escaping his mouth as you slowly inched closer to his cock. He almost came when he felt your hand on his clothed knee, only letting out a frustrated groan as you looked at his hand struggling to keep the slow pace.

You sat up, now on your knees, staring at his leaking cock. A sinister smile appeared onto your face, lifting your hand and placing it above Choso’s struggling one. He gasped as you looked into his eyes.

You smiled at him as you guided his hand to stroke faster, Choso slowly pulled his hand away, leaving only yours on his cock as he stared deep into your eyes.

His cock so thick that you couldn't touch your thumb to your middle finger. He let out a loud whine when you circled your palm on his tip. Letting the hem of his t-shirt fall into his mess.

Placing a gentle kiss to his quivering lips. “I’m going to-” Choso whined as you stroked his cock faster. His hips bucking up as ropes of cum shot out of him, leaving his cock twitching in your hand. He kissed you, open mouthed and heavily breathing as he felt the aftershocks of his orgasm course through his body.

In your hand, his cock still at attention for you as you smiled into the kiss. Choso pushed your upper half down so you could lay on your back, slipping his sweats off as he watched you shake off your pants.

He wasted no time in connecting to your lips again as he settled his bottom half between your thighs. His greedy hands groping at anything he could find.

One under your t-shirt kneading your breast and the other lifting the band of your panties. “Can I?” he murmured into the kiss as you felt his fingers hover above the agonizing ache that you had neglected for so long.

“Mhmm-” you purred, feeling his fingers press against your core. Not pushing them in just yet, only circling at your entrance for permission.

The back of his hand being coated in the mess you had made in your panties. His thumb found the bundle of nerves that made you gasp. Feeling his eager hand roam around your most sensitive spots.

He moaned as he felt your hand tug at his hair, and the other under his t-shirt clawing at his back as he pushed one of his long fingers into your core.

Slow and gentle as he was, this was killing you. Feeling like he was purposely teasing you as you moaned into the kiss. “Teach me what you like.” Choso mumbled, pulling away from your lips as he looked at your flushed face.

You leaned over to his ear, only whispering one word. “Faster.” groaning at the contact against his ear. Slipping another finger into you with no hesitation as his thumb made quick work of your clit, your juices dripping to his palm as he felt your breath hitch against his lips.

Cock throbbing anytime it brushed against your thigh, he unspooled you bit by bit. A loud moan fell from your lips as he hit the sweet spot his fingers were so desperately looking for.

“R-right there.” you managed to get out as you felt him pump his fingers inside you. Choso abused the spot that made your back arch as you muttered “I'm gonna cum-” into the kiss.

A loud whine left your lips as his thumb made one last circle on your clit, feeling his smile against your lips. Choso thought that one orgasm wasn’t enough. Placing one last kiss on the side of your opened mouth before moving down your torso, lifting up half of your t-shirt as he placed kisses in between your breasts.

Slipping your soaked panties down with his fingers, gentle kisses on your thighs as he made his way to your core. Eye to eye with your throbbing cunt, looking up at you with his mouth agape. You were dripping, Choso felt his cock leak at the mere sight of you.

“May I?” he asked, always so polite. Flustered and almost whining as he waited for your reply.

“Yes.” you exhaled, your hands finding their way to the sides of his head as his tongue licked a long stripe from your cunt up to your clit. Tongue flat against you as you squirmed.

His hands sliding down your sides and holding your plush thighs open, Choso whined, feeling you arch your back as he sucked your clit. His cock rubbing against the bed sheets. The vibrations fell from his tongue onto your clit as it swirled around you.

Still sensitive from the first orgasm, a second one wasn't late to follow. Barely needing any stimulation for you to cum again.

Choso’s mouth was stuck on the upper part of your cunt, his tongue doing what seemed like magic tricks as you pulled on his hair. His hips thrusted up causing friction against his cock and the now wet bedsheets, a string of moans with his name falling from your lips as you felt him take your orgasm.

You tried to squirm from grasp, his mouth didn't stop sucking on the abused bud. Thighs pinned to the side of his face as he felt you fight his grip, “Just one more-” he begged, the vibrations only making you squirm.

You muttered a pained, “Okay.” and he didn't stop, this time more sloppy, not caring if your juices mixed with his spit leaked down his chin.

He devoured you like he hadn't eaten a decent meal in years.

Choso’s hips now bucking up relentlessly as he tried to chase the high that he yearned for. You felt his grip on your thighs tighten, knowing that he would leave light bruises on them.

He moaned against you as he pulled another orgasm out of you, feeling his whines against your cunt like it was his way of giving you a cruel punishment.

It wasn't till he moaned loudly against you that he stopped. Pressing one final kiss on your clit before pulling away. Holding his head in your hands you felt him shiver, looking down at him as he sluggishly lifted his body.

Letting you see the mess he left on the sheets. Choso came by just eating you out. And still, he was hard. Cock twitching as he sat up, looking at you breathlessly as he waited for you to do something, his eyes following your hands go to the hem of your shirt before pulling it off.

His mouth watering at the sight. Feeling the absence of his warmth, you reached your hands to his face. Pulling him close for a gentle kiss, his body leaning forward and now inbetween your legs. Feeling your bare breasts against his chest made his cock twitch. His hips trying their best to not press his cock against your cunt.

He placed sloppy kisses on your cheek, as you inched your lips closer to his ear, “Put it inside.” you urged, feeling his hand slip from the side of your thigh down to hold the base of his cock. He leaned his head back, looking down at your cunt and his cock centimeters apart. His eyebrows turning upwards as he tried his best not to burrow his cock inside of you.

Choso held onto the base of his cock as he pressed his head to your core. Gasping at the warmth and slick that had pooled. He looked back up to your eyes. His hand guiding his crying cock to slip up and down your cunt.

Gasps leaving your mouth as you felt his tip brush past your clit. You looked into his eyes, and down to his lips. Leaning in again to kiss him. Choso took this as an invitation to slowly push his fat tip into your core. He gasped into your mouth, breaking the kiss as you felt tears prick your eyes.

He whined as half lidded eyes stared into yours. Eyebrows knitted as he tried to push further. Feeling resistance from your cunt that tried its best to let him in.

A loud cry fell from your lips as he managed to push a little more into you. He placed his hand next to your hip to brace himself. All the instincts in his head telling him to shove himself all the way into you.

“S’too big-” you murmured, your lips brushing against his as he whined at your words. His body pressed tightly against yours as he hissed feeling your cunt stretch around him as he pushed himself into you.

He muttered a quiet ‘I know’ to console you, tears now falling from your eyes. He gave you his entire being, inch by inch till he felt like there was no more room to fit himself in. He gasped feeling you clench around him. Giving you a sloppy kiss on your lips before looking down and seeing that he hasn't put his cock fully into you.

Groaning at the sight of his cock almost disappearing. He looked back to you, moaning as fat tears fell from your cheeks, he leaned down to kiss them away. Salty liquid falling onto his lips.

He slowly pulled his cock out, mouth open in a gasp as he felt your walls clench around him, trying to keep him inside. Whining as he pulled himself out, keeping his tip inside of you as your hands clawed at his biceps in hopes to relieve the sting.

His thick fingers inside of you earlier made no difference in regards to the pain. Choso’s hips halted, feeling his tip inside of you as he looked into your eyes. Slowly sliding himself into you again.

This time the sting of him stretching you was not as evident as it was before. Now feeling the tip of his angry cock brush against the spot his fingers had abused before.

Eyes half lidded as Choso’s lips brushed against yours, wanting to kiss him but knowing you'd break it to breathe. Eyes fixed on yours as he slowly slid his cock into you. Moans and whines falling from his mouth as you tried to keep your eyes open.

He pulled one hand up from your thigh and shoved the hair in your face away, holding your neck and looking into your eyes lovingly. His hips not faltering in the slow pace he tried so desperatly to keep. Making sure not to hurt you.

Soon your whines of pain turned into a string of moans as Choso’s cock brushed against your sweet spot. Your hand made its way to the base of his neck, holding it firm as he kissed your cheek, as agonizing as this was to Choso, he didn't want to move any faster till he knew you were ready.

He pulled away from your face, “Can I go faster?” he whined, desperate as your cunt clenched around him by hearing him speak.

“Please.” you breathed, kissing him again as his hips stuttered against you. His thrusts now firmer and quicker. Whining as he felt how slick your cunt was.

Eyes full of love and adoration as he looked into yours, muttering dozens of ‘I love you’ s as he kissed you. Choso’s hips thrusting into you rough with sweat dripping down his temple.

The room was spinning, filthy sounds filled the room. Stretching you out everytime he pushed himself in. His two hands now held your face as he propped himself up with his wobbling knees.

Holding your face still as he pressed wet gentle kisses onto your lips. Murmuring sweet words in between them, telling you how beautiful you looked. How well you were taking him. How warm your cunt was.

Words that made your orgasm pool in your womb as you felt Choso’s cock thrusting into you faster. His orgasm had been on the brink since he pushed his cock into you. But he held out, wanting to cum with you.

“I’m gonna cum-” you moaned, a quiet whine from his trembling lips as he felt himself come undone. Fast thrusts soon stuttered against your thighs. One final rough thrust into you as he coated your insides. Loud whines as he started coming down from his orgasm.

Pulling out slowly and pushing himself inside again, slow thrusts as his cock softened inside of you. His knees no longer able to hold him up, he collapsed. Cock still inside as his forehead rested against your neck.

Choso’s face nuzzled into you as his back rose with each heavy inhale he took. Your eyes hazy as you looked up at the ceiling, feeling him press sloppy kisses to your neck, “Thank you.” he whispered before placing a kiss to the shell of your ear. Lifting his head up to look at you, your hands going to hold his cheeks.

Hazy eyes looking at you- “Did I do good?” he slurred, his face flush with a certain glow that you had longed to see.

Placing a gentle kiss on his lips, “You did so good.” you whispered. Placing another sloppy kiss to his plush lips, “You were perfect.” you praised, seeing a half lidded smile come from Choso in response to your compliments.

He rested his head on your chest, his ear listening to your quickening heartbeat start to slow down. Your hand went to hold his face, the other on his back rubbing circles on it. Still feeling light twitches rumble through his body as his hand rested on your ribs.

Laying there for a while. Both of you trying to catch your breath. “I'm thirsty.” You chirped, your voice low as Choso’s eyes looked up at you, pained as he knew that he would eventually have to pull himself out of you.

“I'll go get you something.” he said, not moving his body an inch. Feeling your chest rise as you let out a laugh. Seeing him not move, if anything nuzzling your bare chest even more.

“Let me up at least-” you smiled, your hand moving from his face to his shoulder in an attempt to move him.

“Do I have to?” He whined, lifting his head and looking at your eyes. You smiled, leaning down to press a warm kiss onto his lips. Hearing him whine when you pulled away. He exhaled, groaning as he lifted himself from your chest, propping himself on his forearms as he slowly pulled himself out of you.

His softened cock jumped as he felt the cold air hit him, causing him to hiss at the sensation. He rolled to his side of the bed, one arm behind his head as he looked over at you sitting on the edge of the bed. He watched you as you stood up, seeing your bare back face him.

Tired eyes roaming your back, down to your plush thighs that glistened in the dim lighting. Your legs struggled to take a first step, feeling a stinging in your thighs as you limped in the first few steps.

You walked to the door that held your robe, rolling your shoulders back, wrapping it around you. Turning around to see Choso’s half lidded eyes. A small smile on his face as he watched you. At that moment he looked like a Greek sculpture, hair messy and his forehead still damp.

Bare body as he stretched himself out onto your bed. In your mind you liked to think that he was purposefully trying to look scrumptious.

But knowing him? He wasn't trying. He's just naturally that way. Messy sheets surrounded him as you smiled, “Take the sheets off the bed.” you laughed, turning around and opening the door to walk to the kitchen.

Choso smiled, sitting up and gathering the soiled sheets on your bed and tossing them to the floor. Keeping the pillows on the bare mattress as he found a folded sheet on top of a basket of your folded laundry. He held it up to his nose, inhaling the smell of your detergent and a hint of your perfume.

Smiling against it before he unfolded it. Sitting back down to where you left him. Tossing a corner of the thin sheet above his lower half. Sitting against the wall as he waited for you to come back. You walked in, two glass cups full of ice water in hand. He smiled seeing you offer him a glass.

Placing yours onto the night stand and slipping your robe off. When you took it off, his eyes never left your face. Not even bothering to look down at your body. You took a sip of the cold water before crawling back to him. Pulling the sheet above you as you rested your head against his chest, stretching an arm across his stomach.

Feeling Choso set down his cup on the nightstand next to him. His strong arms wrapped around you as he felt your chest press against his torso.

“Thank you.” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest.

His thumb rubbed circles on your arm, “For what?” Choso smiled, voice low and husky.

“For making me feel like this was my first time.” You confessed, lifting your head to look up at him. He closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“I'm glad it was you.” he murmured, pulling away from you as he held your back. Pressing you closer to him. You smiled, laying your head back onto his chest.

“Me too.”

“I can’t believe that's what I was missin' out on.” he laughed.

“It's not like I was keeping it from you-” you defended playfully. “Not once did it ever feel like the way it feels like with you.” You continued, your fingers tracing his abs as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” he asked, fishing for praise.

“None of them ever went down on me.” You confessed, looking up at him with a giddy smile on your face. “Always needing to get themselves off first. Didn't even make me come.” You joked as he laughed.

“No way-” he answered, disbelief in his voice as he couldn't fathom the thought.

“I’m serious-” you laughed, “Oh but you-” you swooned, your hand going up to his face.

“Always so sweet to me.” you whispered as your fingers traced his jawline. Choso’s cheeks went pink as he heard your compliments.

“I think I lost count of how many times I came.” you swooned, looking into his eyes. His hand went up to the side of your face, a bright grin on his lips as he held it still. Leaning in close.

“If I could go down on you for the rest of my life. I would do it in a heartbeat.” He whispered before placing a kiss onto your lips. He pulled away, placing another small peck to them and pulling back.

“Promise me that from now on, you'll only ever have sex with me.” He asked, his eyes looking down to your hand that laid flat against his chest.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, eyes full of love. “I promise.” you whispered, seeing his eyes look back at you.

Choso felt his cock twitch, slowly rising as he looked into your eyes. Feeling the sheet that covered your body lift, you looked down to his lower half. Seeing the sheet rise just by looking at you and hearing your promise. You looked up at him again, mouth open in shock with a smile forming on his face.

“You wanna go again?” he asked sweetly, grin on his face as you stared at him like he was a soldier coming home.

“Jesus christ- is there anything you're not good at?” you exclaimed, sitting up and kissing his cheek. Your hands cupping his face in disbelief. He felt his chest swell with pride hearing you praise him. You kissed his lips once more, closing your eyes as his hands roamed your body.

Even now, you heavily regretted depriving yourself of the prize that Choso was. The perfect man, always so polite and gentle. And always. Always eager to please.

damn that was a lot😦 ik its late but I wanted to post this before I went to bed. as always thank u for reading :> I am simply a vessel for the lord😄 he puts disgusting thoughts in my head and I write about them, nah jp (p.s. if ur curious of what two acc im referencing its FinishHimRIP on twt lollll)

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sweet-as-an-angel · 10 months

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Miguel’s Reaction to You Calling Him a DILF

Warnings: Implied Smut, Dominant Miguel, Profanity, Use of ‘Daddy’, Lyla Trying Her Best <3, Fem Reader.

Despite spending every day with Lyla, an absolutely chronically online AI, Miguel knows little in the way of internet jargon.

Thus, this term - DILF - is one he’s never come across before. Namely because Lyla has never seen it fit to implement it into a conversation.

But, when Miguel overheard you calling him your “Favourite DILF; just a gorgeous, scrumptious specimen,” he had to ask Lyla to translate for him.

Miguel swore he could see her eyes widen, her brow stiffen and crease.

“It’s…it’s — uh — well…”

Lyla scratched the back of her head, her stare sloping off to the side — away from Miguel’s cattish stare. Her teeth gritted, a gateway, a preventative measure to ensure your safety and wellbeing. The only barrier between your open secret and miguel’s discovery of it.

“Oh, come on, Lyla,” Miguel crossed his arms over his chest, as if to inhibit the anxiety starting to bloom there. He doubted that you’d ever bad-mouth him, especially given how close the two of you were, but Lyla’s apprehension was starting to spark some doubts. Regardless, he persevered, kept his stare hard and neutral. “It can’t be that bad.”

“It..it means…” Lyla sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose beneath her glasses. She didn’t look up at Miguel, instead finding you in her mind’s eye and cursing you. And wishing the best for your safety.

“Dad I’d like to fuck.”

She came out with it, the words almost poisonous and sour on her tongue as they passed through. And the fact that she’d had to say them to Miguel of all people didn’t help.

At first, Miguel didn’t think he’d heard Lyla correctly, his posture and face remaining unchanged in the fallout of his discovery.

It was only after three seconds passed, four, five, that he truly heard — understood — what Lyla had said.

“Oh.”

A warmth bled across Miguel’s face, a creeping blush hidden only by the console’s yellow hue. Without another word, Mifuel turned tail, unfurling his arms, unravelling to his broadest potential. He began his descent, his destination clear as day in his mind’s eye.

Lyla’s’s eyes widened further, almost bulging from her head. She called, stammering: “(Y-Y/N) probably didn’t mean it! Not like that! So-so don’t go too hard on ‘er, okay?”

Miguel searched the entire facility for you, his face a concoction of emotions nobody (save for yourself) had ever seen before, thus making his mood indecipherable to all that were not you.

He eventually found you, isolated, in a room. Practically begging for what was to come next. He slipped inside, closed the door behind him.

You turned and smiled, sensing Miguel’s presence; the impression of authority.

“Hey, Miggy!” you chimed, eyes crescents. You turned back to checking off your stock list, paying little heed to the shadow advancing on you.

“Playing innocent, I see,” Miguel’s voice swooped and glided as the greatest bird of prey does, coming to stand mere centimetres behind you, his warmth at your back; a dark sun.

“I thought you’d be at home, caring for our child.” His hands came to sit on your shoulders, heavy and large. For a second, you were befuddled, believing Miguel to be spinning you a riddle. Then, realisation. Your heart dropped; you knew Miguel could feel it. Oh my God, Lyla.

“We…don’t have a child, Miguel,” you laughed, humourless and breathy. You knew you had to play your cards right. Carefully. Miguel gave a heavy, brief chuckle.

“Not yet,” he squeezed your shoulders, hands slipping down the length of your arms, the feeling of spiders creeping along your skin. “But seeing as you’re so keen on calling me daddy, I see no harm in pretending.”

His lips came to your neck, pressing deceptively soft kisses there.

You were frozen, though a fire stoked within you. One you couldn’t bring yourself to put out.

“After all, I am your DILF, aren’t I?”

You bit your lip, eyes squeezing shut as Miguel’s hands slid to your waist, pulling your back to his front where you felt something thick and large and bulging against your tailbone.

“A baseless accusation, don’t you think ?”

Your breath shuttered. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing—“

“It doesn’t matter how you meant it. What matters is it’s inaccurate,” Miguel spoke with a stoic logic you’d seen one too many times. He pulled you to him, tighter, closer, his heart pounding against your back.

“But, luckily for you, I’m in a giving mood. I’m not going to punish you for your little transgression. Instead, I’m going to give you an out.” He descended upon your skin again, nipping it between his blunted teeth, the threat of his fangs in your periphery.

“What…what’s that?” You almost didn’t want to ask, your heart creeping up your throat as if to muffle your words.

Miguel’s hand slipped from your waist, sliding sharp fingers down the expanse of your back, leaving trails of goosebumps. You felt his hand come between where the most prominent part of himself and you connected, his knuckles digging into the small of your back. He ran a hand over himself through his suit, palmed himself. His eye twitched. “You just have to be a good girl and lay down and take whatever I give you until I say we’re done.”

His grip on you tightened. You could feel how dark his gaze had become, weighing heavy on you like a robe.

You said nothing – could say nothing.

“Now, you wanna say that again,” his voice was muffled by your skin, his kisses becoming wetter, languid. He pushed himself against you, taking you by the hips and pulling you so he caught you just right. You spied his eye twitch in the reflection of the filing cabinet across from you as you cracked an eye open, a steady redness overtaking Miguel’s stare, his lips turning up at the corners, revealing his fangs.

“Or are you gonna keep that pretty little mouth shut and make me into a real daddy ?”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

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bills-bible-basics · 2 years

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GOD AND HIS WORD ARE OUR CONSTANT -- KJV (King James Version) Bible Verse List King James Version Bible verse list compiled by Bill Kochman concerning the topic "God and His Word Are Our Constant". Visit my page at https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/ to see all the lists I've compiled to date. Thanks! A Note From Bill Kochman Please notice some of the firm, reassuring words and phrases that are used in the following verses : I change not for ever the same no variableness neither shadow of turning true from the beginning endureth for ever standeth for ever to all generations My counsel shall stand I will do all my pleasure hath he said, and shall he not do it? hath he spoken, and shall he not make it good? immutability of his counsel by two immutable things anchor of the soul both sure and stedfast Can there be any doubt then that God and His Word are our constant, and the anchor of our soul? "For I am the LORD, I change not; therefore ye sons of Jacob are not consumed." Malachi 3:6, KJV "Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to day, and for ever." Hebrews 13:8, KJV "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." James 1:17, KJV ". . . For ever, O LORD, thy word is settled in heaven." Psalm 119:89, KJV "Thy word is true from the beginning: and every one of thy righteous judgments endureth for ever." Psalm 119:160, KJV "The counsel of the LORD standeth for ever, the thoughts of his heart to all generations." Psalm 33:11, KJV "Remember the former things of old: for I am God, and there is none else; I am God, and there is none like me, Declaring the end from the beginning, and from ancient times the things that are not yet done, saying, My counsel shall stand, and I will do all my pleasure:" Isaiah 46:9-10, KJV "God is not a man, that he should lie; neither the son of man, that he should repent: hath he said, and shall he not do it? or hath he spoken, and shall he not make it good?" Numbers 23:19, KJV "Wherein God, willing more abundantly to shew unto the heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath: That by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us: Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast, and which entereth into that within the veil;" Hebrews 6:17-19, KJV If you would like more info regarding the origin of these KJV Bible verse lists, go to https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/. Thank-you! https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/god-and-his-word-are-our-constant-kjv-king-james-version-bible-verse-list/?feed_id=12443&_unique_id=632f25fb64f29&GOD%20AND%20HIS%20WORD%20ARE%20OUR%20CONSTANT%20--%20KJV%20%28King%20James%20Version%29%20Bible%20Verse%20List

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officialyourdailyinspiration · 2 years

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Faith's Checkbook

by Charles Spurgeon

Divine, Ever-Living, Unchanging

"But the word of the Lord endureth for ever. And this is the word which by the gospel is preached unto you." - 1 Peter 1:25

All human teaching and, indeed, all human beings shall pass away as the grass of the meadow; but we are here assured that the Word of the LORD is of a very different character, for it shall endure forever.

We have here a divine gospel; for what word can endure forever but that which is spoken by the eternal God?

We have here an ever-living gospel, as full of vitality as when it first came from the lips of God; as strong to convince and convert, to regenerate and console, to sustain and sanctify as ever it was in its first days of wonder-working.

We have an unchanging gospel which is not today green grass and tomorrow dry hay but always the abiding truth of the immutable Jehovah. Opinions alter, but truth certified by God can no more change than the God who uttered it.

Here, then, we have a gospel to rejoice in, a word of the LORD upon which we may lean all our weight. "For ever" includes life, death, judgment, and eternity. Glory be to God in Christ Jesus for everlasting consolation. Feed on the word today and all the days of thy life.

#Faith's Checkbook #Charles Spurgeon #devotional #1 Peter 1:25 #Divine #Ever-Living #Unchanging #Word of God #September 1 #2022

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ghostarii · 9 months

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GLASS TABLE GIRL ! ～ BLADE . ❛ i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

˖ ⁺ ⫾  SHOW NOTES fem!reader ❱ guitarist!blade ❱ groping ❱ reader is a groupie ❱ PWP!!! ❱ (reader is intoxicated so technically) dubcon ❱ spanking ❱ degradation ❱ clit n nipple slapping ❱ ig ooc!blade but who cares ❱ choking/asphyxiation ❱ size kink ❱ dacryphilia ❱ outdoor/public sex ❱ exhibitionism ❱ spit ❱ face-fucking ❱ dirty talk ❱ reader has 0 self respect ❱ name calling ❱ overstimulation ❱ creampie & unprotected sex (stay safe) ❱ clit pinching ❱ hair pulling ❱ multiple orgasms ❱ cumplay(?) ❱ no aftercare ❱ minors & dc antis do not interact.

˖ ⁺ ⫾  CREDITS i have not written a fic in so effing long nd i was high writing this so excuse my rustiness :c but i have risen from my grave so let’s rejoice nonetheless ! !blade is on my mind 24/7 n i just want to be used n abused by him omfg turn me OWT! i listened to one of the girls by the weeknd literally the entire time i wrote this sooo feel free to listen while reading ^_^ i was js writing as i went so ts is very pwp sorryyy . . i’m gonna try to be more active on here i js need time to write so in the meantime pls show that my works would be appreciated here =( likes & reblogs are so GREATLY APPRECIATED ! ! ! if u don’t like, pls scroll cs comm guidelines r so mean to creators T_T

˖ ⁺ ⫾  RUN TIME 7.5k+ words . (of pure filth)

IF SOMEBODY ASKED you who your favorite artist was, you would say Ren—known by his moniker: BLADE. There was nothing you didn't like about this man; everything about him fundamentally and ultimately was the object of a girlish obsession. You knew all of his songs front to back, followed his social media on every single platform, and never missed a single piece of media uploaded about him. Your life was built around his style: dark and mysterious and enigmatic. He was your number one, unmatched and unchanged.

He was a hard man to come by. He frequently held small shows, with no more than twenty-thousand people on the high end. It was impossible to go, and every time you tried, your chance miserably passed you up. But this time, June twenty-third, twenty-twenty-three, you were right there, in the middle of the pit, only mere feet away from Blade. It was your first time seeing him in person by the grace of your best friend who surprisingly snagged tickets, and you’d never been more grateful in your life.

Blade was ethereal. The concert videos you’d seen over the years did not compare to the image in front of your face. It was dark, the main lights being spotlights shone on his pearly, perspiring, black, skin-tight silk-clothed skin, and dim red LED lights on the set behind him. His fingers ran effortlessly across his guitar, an inexplicably attractive riff and tone singing from the instrument. You felt like you were in Heaven, your eyes never leaving the show before your eyes. It was hot and uncomfortable in the pit but it was worth it. So worth it because he looked at you: taking you in with an unfaltering stare. His lip slipped between his teeth, and he shook his head, throwing stray locks to the back, and God, you felt as though you needed to be bolted to the ground with the way you wanted to jump on the stage. He walks up to the microphone, the most gut-wrenchingly hot vocals sliding off of his tongue. His eyes were closed, smudged eyeliner emphasizing his fluttering, long lashes, and his lips were spit-slicked, parting and pursing with each sultry lyric leaving. They were plump and rosy as if they were asking to be kissed—it was a sight to behold.

You sang your heart out, dragging your hand from waving in the air down a curvy path on your body, going from your shoulder to your chest to below where Blade’s sight would reach. You turned to your friend and recited the lyrics with a big smile and following giggle, all to turn your attention back to the stage and lock eyes with him. Your thighs clamped together just at the narrowed and burning gaze he delivered. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted a man more than you do right now.

Your friend found a way closer to the stage and you wedged your way between the crowd, finding yourself so close that the speakers were banging on your eardrums. You could feel the music in your bones, and all you could think of to describe it was hot and heavy. Maybe it was all of the pregaming you and your friend did before the concert, or the condensed heat and gyrating bodies, but you were so hot. You wipe your sweaty skin as you sway to the beginning of the next song, taking out your phone to begin recording.

Blade leans into the mic, muttering lowly, “I want you all to sing.” He pulls the microphone out of the stand, letting his guitar hang off of his shoulder from the strap. And that’s when he makes his way to where you stand, muttering small “yeah”’s and “good job”’s into the mic as the crowd collectively sings. He kneels right before you, “Sing.” he says into the mic.

You go wide-eyed—cute, he thinks—but you start singing. You grab an open portion of the microphone, leaning in as close as possible and reciting the lyrics of the song just as you were told. All eyes and cameras were on you, and that included Blade, who held an intense gaze on you the entire verse. When you finish the crowd erupts in cheers and screams, and he pulls away, finishing the song. You turned to your friend and screamed about your main character moment, dancing and singing even happier into her recording phone. This was the best night of your life.

For the rest of the concert, you had the time of your life. Blade ends the show with a final guitar solo, the entire audience silent as he wrecks the strings and pours his heart into his vocals. He briefly spoke to his fans, thanking everyone for coming out and heading backstage as everyone began to clear out. And all he could think about was that girl who his eyes couldn't help but wander toward, and to whom his thoughts dedicated his innuendos. He remembers the sign you held at the beginning of the show: “BLADE ♡WNS M(Y)E (HEART) ♡”. Your eyes honed filth that your natural disposition didn’t and he longed for it. He held bated breath as he informed his security about you, requesting you be located and brought to him and they replied with “We’ll try our best, sir.”

It was an after-concert tradition for Blade to hit up a local club, especially in situations like this where it was his last stop. He hoped he’d find you there, but he knew you would, especially if you were as big of a fan as you looked.

“Yukong, just thirty minutes! Please!!” you pleaded, trying to pull your friend into your opinion. She shook her head no, “I can’t! I have to go home! I’m so tired and you know…” you stop your friend there, not wanting to hear about her boyfriend.

“Fine. I’m still going though, text me when you get home.” you didn’t want Yukong to go home. But arguing was pointless, and only time was being put to the test, not her stubbornness. You knew from your years as a Blade fan that he always went to the club after a concert to meet fans, and some rumors even suggested ulterior motives, so you wanted to go. Yukong frowned at your flat expression but still hugged you, waving at you as she got in her car to go home. You’d be flying solo, but you had faith in yourself.

So you make your way over to the nearest club via taxi, praying that this is the one that Blade would visit. You weren’t all too familiar with the place, its name, Starskiff Haven, only being one you’ve heard in passing. Regardless, your thoughts were assured by the abundance of fighting and pushing bodies to get in the door—and when your phone lit up, a Twitter notification from a Blade Updates page noting his location, Starskiff Haven, you smiled widely, making your way to the line.

It was way too long and you weren’t interested in waiting all night—you had to meet Blade. A time like this is when Yukong comes into hand with her very stern persuasion, something that’s near impossible to deny. But she left, and you’d have to figure out a way in. And a thought immediately came to mind.

You walked to the front of the line, breathing in deeply and psyching yourself up for how incredibly you were about to embarrass yourself. When you exhale, you book it, beelining straight into the club, right past security. You immediately shift your demeanor, blending into the crowd seamlessly as security guards rush in, looking around for you. Hiding behind the most cluelessly drunk girl, you make your way to the bar, immediately ordering a sidecar. It packed a punch and the combination of how many shots you had earlier, it’d be just enough to get you through whatever you were about to do.

You turn around in the swivel stool, taking in the atmosphere and coasting the area for any sighting of Blade. The club was darker than the concert but heavily illuminated with hazy, colorful LEDS and much, much louder, filled to the brim with chatter and deafening bass-boosted music. Your drink was brought to you moments later, and with a big sip, you raked your eyes over the club once again. You could see bodies grinding on the main floor, the DJ bopping his head as his hands moved diligently across his DJ controller, couples making out and slipping into cornered areas, and friend groups recording and taking pictures. It was a lively environment, sure, and from the strength that beat on your tongue, established by incredibly skilled bartenders—but you weren’t looking for a new clubbing spot, you were looking for Blade.

And Blade was looking for you. Swimming through the unforgivingly hot crowd for you. He wasn’t itching to have you, he was itching to take you. Every time he closed his eyes he was brought back to his time on stage and how you danced in the audience. How your lips pushed out his lyrics and how your hands couldn’t stop waving in the air and running on your skin. How you swiped off sweat from your forehead and fanned yourself with your sign. And how you couldn’t keep your star-filled eyes off of him. Every light reflection off of your eyes showed desperation and neediness. You were begging to be picked without ever uttering a word, and he was not one to ignore indulgence. You needed him and he wanted you—so where are you?

Perched on that blue-velvet cushioned swivel stool. Sipping whatever remaining contents of your sidecar. And when he saw you, you saw him. You locked eyes and each plastered ill-intended smirks across your faces. And while you had his attention, you brought the glass to your lips, smacking them open and running your tongue along the sugar rim, collecting the sweetness on your tongue. You sucked on your tongue, rolling your eyes and he swears the “Ahh” leaving your lips is audible from his distance. He stayed still even as you slapped down your money on the counter, hopping down and disappearing into the crowd.

You make your way to him quickly, holding onto your rapidly rising chest and laughing at yourself. You were on a roll of unbelievable behavior, but it seemed to be a clean stroke because you were yet to meet a roadblock. And in a very blurry couple of minutes, the goal you’d been working toward was in the palm of your hand—literally.

You danced your way to Blade when you were finally close to him, sliding up against his body sweetly. He was tall and so sturdy against you, but he was smooth like butter as he synced to your movements and danced behind you. His hands were on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he pushed up against you. Your exchange was wordless but it spoke volumes. It felt like a dream, entirely too good to be true but you indulged anyway, grinding against him. A gasp escapes your mouth as his left hand unabashedly grapes your tit, squeezing roughly and experimentally. His other hand trails dangerously on the band of your shorts and you let your head fall back on his shoulder, “I'm your biggest fan…”

He laughs at your declaration, leaning to press his lips feather-lightly at the shell of your ear, “Are you now?” you nod immediately, pressing into him. “‘Blade owns me’.” he mocks your sign, and laughs when he feels you slightly tense under his touch.

“I picked you,” and again, he leans down to your ear, “Are you happy, slut?” The word is so mean but it sounds so good from him. You nearly moan, nodding eagerly, as if complying with his word came with a medal. You were a slut, so willing to give it up as soon as he laid eyes on you. And you weren’t afraid to go low to get his attention, doing just about anything to be his for the night.

Fangirls like you are nothing new to Blade and as a man who looks like he does, it comes with the territory. He can read you like a damn book, cover to cover with ease because despite how enigmatic and indifferent to the norm you may try to appear, you wear your whole being on your sleeve. You do everything in your power to be somebody you're not. Your life revolves around who you think you should be and not who you are. A lot of girls are born with “it”: an innate ability to be the one wanted and desired, but you? Your “it” is manufactured, the blueprint drawn out by girls who are it. You're stuck in a limbo created by your age: too old to not be settling down, but too young to not live your life, and you try to make a box for yourself, being the exception to a path laid out for you. You're lost in the life you lead, and with the way you're dancing so shamelessly and needily on him, Blade knows you. You’re the type of girl who sees getting used as a flex, and despite signing an NDA or promising to never say anything, you’ll tell this person and that person that you got to sleep with the Blade; that the Blade picked you. Women like you are a cancer in the industry. Pests that are incessant and damn near impossible to get rid of. He knows you won't be any different than those before you, but there’s a desire to take you that he cannot ignore.

It’s his natural instinct as a man—or he’s just a shitty person. Perhaps a combination of both, because all he can think about is putting you to use. You’re making it so easy, moaning into the air under the thick remixed song the DJ is spinning, grinding against him, and holding his hand on your tit—you want him, and you’re giving yourself to him on a silver platter. You have a clear lack of respect for yourself, but luckily for you, that’s Blade’s type in women.

The atmosphere seems to be getting heavier, and it feels like time is getting slow and choppy. Now your arms are around Blade’s neck and his large hands are holding onto your ass, and you’re so close, you can feel your chests brushing with each breath you take. The world around you is nothing but background. It doesn’t exist to you, it doesn't matter to you. Not when you have Blade, the literal man of your dreams, right in your palm, and all he's looking at is you.

You feel so special. So wanted and so desired. You feel all eyes on you like you're the main attraction and everybody can’t help but watch and weep, wishing to be you. Your ego is skyrocketed and every embarrassing thing you’ve done tonight doesn't matter to you anymore because it paid off. Your eyes locked and the space between you closed. Your heart synced with the booming beat of the current song playing. You lean in, pressing your hands at the back of his neck and pulling him in. And you kiss him. You kiss Blade.

Blade kisses you back. He tightens the grip on your ass and you moan into his mouth, letting him infiltrate your mouth. He sucks on your tongue, smiling against you when he feels you push up on your tippy toes and hears you whimper into his mouth. He kisses you back. He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, pecking your lips once more before moving to your cheek, then to your jaw, then to your neck. His hands are groping at you, roughly grabbing your ass, then your waist, then your breasts. “Are you wet?”

He says it so only you can hear it. You nod. “How wet?” He moves back up to your jaw, placing another kiss. You flutter your lashes, meeting his gaze, “So wet. All for you.”

At your response, he groans, pulling off of you. He chuckles when you pout at him. You’re just what he needs for this night. He grabs your chin, holding your face and leaning down, your lips brushing against his own. “I'm going to go smoke.” and he tells you this for a reason.

You watch with the biggest smile on your face as he sifts through the crowd, heading out of a side door. It was now or never.

Quickly, you rush to the bathroom to freshen up. You fix your hair, digging into your pocket and fishing out your lipgloss, reapplying, and you fan yourself, cooling down to not look a flustered mess. And just as quick as you ran in, you ran out toward the side door, immediately looking both ways for Blade. You smell smoke distantly and turn right, and a few paces down he stood, leaning against the brick wall of the neighboring restaurant. He's next to stacks of old wood and crates and you smile, thinking about whatever was about to go down between you.

You step in front of him and he smiles, taking you in once again. He blows his smoke in your face, tapping the ash off the cigarette before smashing the butt into the wall behind him. “Hi,” you say. He says nothing back, just slides his hand to the back of your neck and pulls you in. The kiss you share this time is messy and he now asserts control, nipping your bottom lip when he feels you go weak and pulls back.

He rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand for him. This is the first time all night he’s seen you properly, in moderately okay lighting. Your jean mini-skirt is tight to you, accentuating the curve and fullness of your ass, and teases what’s beneath with your plump thighs poking out and how it rides up slightly. Your skin-tight baby tank is seemingly one with your figure, bringing out the best in you and making him smile with the “I ♡ BLADE” print across your chest. Your thigh-high boots did nothing when you were near him—he was looming and caging. He was intimidating and arousing, and with the lustful gaze you shared, the climax of your day was steadily approaching.

“Take it off.” He looks down at your chest and you get the memo; immediately grabbing the hem of your tank top and pulling it over your head. “Slow. Take your time…” And you listen, letting your body swivel as you remove the shirt. You unhook the clasp of your bra, and before your boobs could spill out of the confines, he grabs you and wedged you between him and the wall he previously leaned on.

The front of your body is slapped on the cold brick, but you’re swallowed in warmth as he presses against you, grinding his hard-on against your ass. One hand grabs your wrists, and the other turns you around. You look at him innocently, shivering at the breeze that blows down the alley. You can smell him: woody, smokey, and expensive. Yet here he was, pressing you up against a brick wall in a random alley. “You’re such an easy slut, y’know.”

“Bet you been thinking about this; daydreaming about your favorite artist pinning you and trashing you like the fucking whore you are.” he presses against your front, nipping at your jaw. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

You whimper, “Fuck me. Take me. Make me yours.”

“Tell me.” He growls - your answer not sufficing. “Want you to break me,”

“Always fantasized…wanting you to shove your dick down my throat and use it mindlessly and mercilessly.” He begins to kiss down your throat again, licking the tender skin. He smirks when you stop talking, your breath hitching and your head craning backward to open the expanse of your neck. He starts biting on your newfound sweet spot when you begin again, “Spit in my mouth and force me to swallow it with your cum,”

He gets to your chest, immediately taking a nipple between his teeth. He listens to you wince and whine as he does, pushing your chest into his face. “And make me beg you to fuck me. Teasing me…fuck—pinching me, pulling my hair until I'm teary-eyed and begging…”

“...And then you fuck me like you hate me; choking me, slapping me, degrading me all while I thank you stupidly.”

“You’re just fucking disgusting,” he mumbles around your nipple. He lets your hands go, palming your free tit immediately. His eyes are narrow as you whine when he twinges the bud roughly. “Put so much thought into this…you’re a weirdo slut.”

You shake your head, breathing out heavily to refute his claim, “Nuh-uh—your biggest fan.” you correct.

He laughs at you. You’re much more fun than he thought, and a lot less shameless, too. You're throwing all of your big cards out; this is your go-big or go-home moment, and while you have him here, you’ll bare yourself wholly because if not now, then not ever. Blade has to commend your patience though. You're letting him toy around, graze around your unknown territory and feel you out. You’re needy but obedient. Tired of waiting but understanding. Absolutely fucking shameful and proud, but eager to be good—so maybe he was wrong about you. You do have an “it”: an innate ability to be the perfect fucktoy.

When he lets you go, he immediately instructs you to get on your knees. And you listen immediately. The cold gravel digs into your bare knees and it's incredibly uncomfortable, yet you don’t utter a word. Your nipples are hard and pebbled and are probably so sensitive, yet you say nothing. You only sit before him, fingers dancing on the exposed thigh as you look up at him, waiting to be put to use.

So he slaps you. As you told him to—he slaps you, and his hand is heavy coming against your skin. It sounds off for what felt like possibly hundreds of miles, and your face doesn’t sting, but it hurts. The skin is heating up from the impact and your head turns to the side, hair falling against your face, yet you don’t utter a word. He grabs the back of your head, forcing you to look at him and dangerously smiling when your teary eyes look up at him wide and thankfully. “Pull my cock out,” he instructs, letting you go and standing up straight.

You get to work on his belt, undoing it swiftly, and then you unbutton his pants. You tease yourself: slowly pulling the zipper down, and when pulling his pants down to his ankles, you palm him softly, gently patting his throbbing cock and staring at the growing wet spot in his underwear. You kiss the wet spot, and then you kiss it again, and again until you suck lightly on it while making eye contact with him. You moan at the very faint taste, fluttering your eyes shut, and finally sliding your hand under the band of his underwear, holding his dick.

Blade hisses at your touch, bucking slightly into your hold at the initial contact. Usually, he’d curse you out at this point for going so slow, but he’s letting it slide this time; allowing you to take control and show him how worth it and nasty you really are.

He’s big. He’s thick—your hand can just barely wrap around the entire shaft, and as you lift him to unsheath him from his boxers, you feel how heavy he is. And hard. So fucking hard.

You gawk at his cock like a kid in a candy store, staring at his leaking slit intensely—almost as if you're waiting. “Go ahead; show me how big of a fan you are.”

You kiss his tip, the bead of precum smearing on your lips. Smacking your lips apart suggestively, you wrap your right hand around the base, applying tightness and pressure as you find the right grip, and when you do, you finally lick a clean stripe across the head. Your tongue sweeps up the new milky droplet spilling out, and you contently hum at the taste, making him groan in response. You lick from the angry tip all the way to his trimmed base, then back up again until you’ve teased every side of him and located his sensitive vein.

If anybody would have told you that all you dreamed about would be coming to fruition—all by mere luck and chance—you wouldn’t believe it. And you still don't; even as you spit a thick bead of your saliva on his cock and then massage it in with your tongue, swirling all around the sensitive head. But it’s real because he moans out for you as you finally take him in, the throb getting heavier as he sits on your tongue and your lips hug him tight.

You begin your ministrations: toying with his balls lightly as you bob up and down, going as far as you could. You tried your best to take him all in. You stretched your mouth wide around him until it felt like your mouth was going to rip at the corners and until it felt like all you could do was sputter and leak drool around him. Tears brimmed in your eyes and each time you blinked them back, keeping a pretty smile on your face every time you came up for air. Your lipgloss was mixed in with spit, and clear tear streaks had already begun to run their course with your base makeup, but you didn't stop. You were moaning incessantly, suffocating his dick in your intense vibrations that had him moaning and grunting.

When you come up from your nth deepthroat attempt, it's not for air, but to breathlessly huff out “Fuck my face…please,” And since you asked so nicely…

“Blink twice if it gets to be too much.” You open your mouth as wide as you could, sticking your tongue out. He pulls your hair back for you, yanking your head back and spitting on your tongue. His eyes tell you not to move, so you don’t, keeping eye contact with him as he wraps his other hand around your own, guiding your smaller hands up and down his shaft. He shudders, “F-fuck…’m so fuckin’ hard…”

And then he slides onto your tongue, not wasting any time before bottoming out in your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise, and your unprepared gags speak volumes to your shock. But that doesn't deter you from wrapping your lips around him. And from there, he pulls out, pulling your head back and then pushing you back down as he thrusts his hips forward. He curses under his breath before picking up his pace, thrusting so hard that his grip tightens on your hair to hold you properly in place, fucking roughly into your face. You can only choke and sputter, having already taken your hands from around his dick and digging crescent nail shapes into his thighs. The sounds eliciting from the two of you are so nasty and filthy. His balls slap at your chin, your voice rings out from around his girth, and his moans echo around the world. You can’t take it but you’re doing a great job of trying. He slaps your face again, pulling out and hitting his tip on your tongue. “Keep your fucking eyes on me,”

“If you can do that, I'll cum all down your throat and all over your pretty fucking face, okay?” You nod eagerly, and as an incredibly degrading action of praise and acceptance, he slaps his spit-slicked dick against your cheek a few times. “Good girl.” Butterflies swarm in your stomach at his praise.

When Blade slides in, he smacks against your face. He goes to the very hilt, pushing his way to the depths of your throat roughly. Your nose is pressed up against his pelvis, and your cheeks are catching stray tears. But this is consistent as he begins thrusting, using you per your request. He grunts out each time his tip hits the back of your throat, thrusting so roughly and meanly into you. Again, you feel like all you can do is choke and gag, spilling slobber and precum mix back down his length. It’s fucking filthy and the loud squelching and impact noises hit your ears nastily, yet you can’t help but squirm and attempt to grind for friction to subdue the need throbbing in your clit.

Above you, the man is falling apart. His hips stutter every now and then and his voice is fucking endless. His long hair sticks to his sweaty forehead and sides of his neck, and it looks damn near intentionally placed from how beautiful he looks. The outdoor lights are like distant illuminators; glowing behind him softly—almost angelically. His eyebrows are knitted together and he struggles to keep his eyes every time he reaches the back of your throat and you start gagging. It’s beyond pleasurable. Blade isn't sure if it’s because of all the tension the two of you have built up, or if it's because he hasn't had any action in the last 3 weeks because of his neverending schedule, or if it’s because your mouth is fucking amazing, but he can't keep himself together. His chest starts heaving faster as he comes close to his high, his knees beginning to buckle, and his stomach caving.

You flick your tongue on the underside of his cock as much as you can and glue your eyes to his, seeing his release breaking him down inch by inch. “Fuck! I'm gonna fucking cum!” He announces, throwing his head back.

He stills in your mouth and you take the opportunity to suck harshly on his tip, swirling your tongue around it like it’s the sweetest lolly you’ve ever tasted. He pulls out of your mouth, and you vigorously stroke his cock, so focused and determined to milk him dry. He leans forward, slapping his palm against the wall behind you for stability as he cums. He moans so prettily as he paints your face, the warm ropes making you hum contently. You give him no break, sucking his tip one last time to make sure you get the most out of what he’s given you.

Blade catches his breath, standing up straight soon after and condescendingly cooing at the mess made on your face. He picks up a glob as he sweeps his thumb over your cheek, sliding the digit in your mouth. He presses on your tongue, finding pleasure in how you swallow your sounds under a layer of gagging, but how you never tear your eyes off of him. He does this until you’ve cleaned off your face—but he's not done with you.

You're finally allowed off of your aching knees. You're sure the gravel will leave an indent from how long you were down there. He pinches your pebbled nipples, smirking as you yelp. “What was it that was next? Making you beg..making you earn my cock in you?” you nod rapidly, backing into the wall for stability as he toys with your very sensitive tits. “Show me how you beg then.”

You put your hands on his shoulders to help you stand up, feeling so weak all of a sudden. Your voice cracks as you try to speak, meek little whimpers flowing out as he works your body expertly—like he knows what gets you going. “Please…fuck–Please fuck me, I need you so bad…!”

A shrill yelp is chased out of your throat when his palm cracks against one of your boobs, “Is that all you got? Try again.”

So you do. “Need you to fuck me, Blade. I wanna be used by you, broken–please, I'll do anything!”

“Not good enough. Again.”

“Please fuck me like the slut I am! I need to be full of you, need to have you fuck me ragged and dumb so all I think of is you!” you pitch up your voice, breathing it all out in one breath.

Pitiful. Another smack. “Again.”

“I'm so needy for you, please! It hurts–I need you so much, it hurts! Please…”

And he's heard enough. His right hand slides up to your neck, forcing you against the wall. His grip is tight, fingers pressing into the sides and you have to fight for your eyes to not roll to the back of your head. “You must not want me as bad as you acted like you did…”

“I do! I do!” You interject, but your voice is weak and small—nothing in comparison to his deep and lust-saturated tone. “Then act like you do. Beg.”

He runs his other hand up your thigh, cupping your cunt. Your panties are soaked, and he can feel the heat radiating off of you. He pushes the fabric to the side, running two fingers through your folds and you swear you almost fell out then and there. You'd gone teased and untouched all night—you were beyond ready.

“Pussy is fucking soaked…” he mumbles, letting his index and middle finger twirl through your folds, getting closer and closer to your clit. “You want me here? To fuck your sloppy pussy until you're cumming your brains out?”

Your eyes start to roll and he can feel the pulse intensify in your cunt. That's exactly what you wanted. “Say it. Say ‘I want my sloppy pussy fucked until I'm cumming my brains out, Blade’. Say it,”

You part your lips, and he slightly loosens the grip on your throat, “Wan–want…I want my sloppy pussy…” You get shy with your words, and he delivers a slap to your clit. The stimulation has you buckling over. You feel like his hands on you are going to be the death of you. “Say it.”

With the courage finally built up, “I want my sloppy pussy fucked until I'm cumming my brains out, Blade! Please, I need it s’bad…feel like I'm gonna fucking die!” leaves your lips easily like spreading butter on toast. His lips that you never got enough of tasting quirk up into his signature smirk. He lets you go, pushing you against the wooden crates and flipping up your jean skirt.

“There you go; atta-fucking-girl.” he practically rips your panties off of you, slapping your pussy just for the hell of it. He cringes at the sound it makes and laughs cruelly at your whimpering. He presses up against you, his semi-hard dick pressed against your ass, and he wraps his arm around you and shows you the coat of your arousal that paints his fingers. “Spit.”

With your spit and abundance of slick collected on his fingers, Blade strokes his cock, going until he’s near painfully hard. The sounds he elicits make your pussy clench around nothing, needing to be satiated so desperately. “Are you ready? There’s no going back.”

This is somehow the sweetest moment for you. Your heart swells and you can only sheepishly nod, wiggling your hips eagerly. “Never been more sure about anything in my life. Ruin me.”

Ask once more, and you shall receive once more. His cock is swiped through your folds and collects a considerable amount of your arousal. He lines up at your entrance, watching you brace yourself with a smile ingrained into his face. He pushes in with a sharp inhale, biting his tongue at the feel of your tightness. Your pussy sucks him right in and—fuck. Warm and soft and tight, he could cum right now.

Your face crinkles up and you grip tightly onto the wooden crates in front of you. You’ve dreamt of this for so long—touched yourself at night to the thought and it's finally happening. He's inside of you, stretching you out, sinking in and in and in, inch by inch until he buries himself deep in your guts, until his tight and heavy balls are touching your folds. You're so sensitive you feel like you're ready to cream already, and you need it, need him, and need more. You grind your hips back on him, exhaling thickly as you rest your head against your forearm. “So fucking ready for me…”

His hand cracks down on your ass. It hurts so well and you wince, arching your back further. He sighs, kneading your skin softly. Then he pulls out, inching out until only the tip sits idly in you. You turn around to look at him, and doing that ignites his fire.

Your face is pathetic and fucked out already. Eyebrows knitted together and your eyes heavy, hardly staying open. Your lips are parted yet folded into a small frown, and perspiration rests at your hairline. You egg him on to slam into you, and he watches your frown drop into a wide ‘o’ shape, your eyes fluttering. So he does it again. And your lip now slips between your teeth. And again. And you drop your head back onto your arms.

And so Blade keeps up this pace, gradually going faster as the pit in his stomach urges him to do so. Your sounds are now uncontrollable—they fly out of you like a skipping record, incoherent babbles, and sinful moans. Each collision of your bodies elicits a visceral, wet slap that echoes off the walls of the alleyway. People around the world could probably hear what you're doing, and you're not sure if that bothers you…if the thought of a curious passerby walking down this alley naïvely would be an issue. If anything, it makes you get louder, your throat not getting to rest.

He hits you again, groaning when your pussy clenches around him. “You’re so fucking loud– you want somebody to find us?” Yes, that is what you want to say. But you moan out louder, shaking your head no. He hits you again. “Don’t lie to me,”

“You’re a fucking painslut,” he spits at you. He wraps his arm to reach your clit, immediately finding the bud and pinching it. Your knees go weak and he stabilizes you against him by pushing you further into the crates in front of you. You sniffle and whimper, presumably spilling tears down your filthy fucking face but doing nothing but asking for more. You've gotten so wet, dripping everywhere messily and Blade only cringes his face up with each wet collision. You're so nasty, so filthy, letting a stranger who you parasocial bonded yourself to defile you in public. He's feeding into your crazed delusions, but he’d honestly rather be doing nothing else. When he pinches your clit again your body shakes. Your knees buckle again and from the waist up you're basically limp. He feels you tighten around him and he sucks his teeth, parting your ass to peer at the milky ring forming around the base of his cock. “Did you just fucking cum?” Yes, you did. And you felt like Heaven doing it.

“You came ‘cause I pinched your clit…” he does it again and you jolt up, whining for him to stop. “So if I slap it…” he slaps it, eyeing you for your reaction. “Or rub on it like I love you…” his fingers run circles on your bud, feeling you get impossibly tighter around him. “So fucking easy.”

He resumes his thrusts like he never stopped—slamming into you unapologetically and now additionally, rubbing on your cute, abused clit. He's not going to last long at this rate. Your pussy gushes around him like a running river and the noises have gotten even nastier. Squelching and the occasional puffs of air escaping…you’re a mess.

“Love this fucking cunt,” he praises while pinching your clit. His free hand that rested on the small of your back is now holding onto your neck, forcing you to stand upright against him. Blade is lean but muscular. His arms flex and you feel his abs every time your bodies get close enough. His strong thighs touch yours and it's like you feel his entire body weight every time he pushes into you. “So good, ‘s so fucking good, Blade!”

The man laughs at your outburst. He angles his hips differently, trying so hard to find your sweet spot to get you creaming again. “Yeah?” he asks, tightening his grip on your throat. “Mhm-!” you concur.

“Where?” He’s sure he's found it, and he drives his hips up, groaning happily once he feels your gummy walls contract around him. “Here?”

Your head nods rapidly. “Yes, yes, yes–fuck! Right there, oh my fucking God!”

Neither of you are going to last. Blade’s balls are so tight and the way your pussy hugs him is even tighter. You suck him in like you never want him to leave, but your over-stimulated squeals and shaking thighs suggest otherwise. He’s found your sweet spot and is recklessly abusing it, going all or nothing. The way he toyed with your clit like a kitten pawing at a toy was too much—it started to hurt, to throb endlessly as your stomach knotted and your hole drooled. His grip on your neck was the icing on the cake. You felt like you could no longer breathe — like his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you and him choking you was keeping it out. Every little thing he did pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

He was even more merciless than before. Blade fucked into you harder, rougher, and faster than before, and you chalked that up to his orgasm catching up to him. You listen to his songs on repeat all the time but never have you heard him sing more beautifully than now as he digs your pussy out. You were really blessed with this night, and now it is coming to a very eventful end.

“‘M gonna fucking cum–!” You announce, and Blade nods his head in agreement. He slaps your cunt one last time, his fingers covered in your juices now tweaking at one of your nipples. “Me…me too, fuck.”

He leans into your ear, “Make me cum in this fucking pussy,” a throaty moan breaks his sentence, and you moan back, feeling it coming. “So close, so close…!”

It's this contraction that has Blade falling apart. He thrusts into you one last time, his eyes shooting wide open as he cums deep in you. He moans gutturally and shakily, feeling you clench tighter as you orgasm as well. His hips stutter in you and your hips ride back onto him as you both come down from your highs. The alley is now deafeningly silent and you flush in embarrassment from how loud you must have been. He lets your neck and tit go, using one hand to now spread your ass and pull out his cock. Your pussy is puffy and shiny, and when he’s out, he watches with a burning gaze as your mixture of cum starts to slightly spill out.

He groans, slapping your ass one last time. You two finally separate, and you turn around to look at him. You're sure he doesn't look as fucked up as you do, but even so disheveled and fucked out and sweaty as he is, you can’t help but feel your heart flutter. He pulls up his boxers and pants, fixing his shirt before he looks over at your mostly naked frame. He comes over to you, pulling down your skirt, and his doing this makes you feel less like a one-night stand, and more like one of his girls.

Being so close to you, he breathes you in. You smell like sex, but beneath that is a layer of whatever fruity perfume you sprayed on you, and it's delectable; so he kisses you. It's something he doesn't usually do, and he wouldn't have done it for you, but you entrance him. Perhaps it's because you're what he likes— he's met his match.

But you kiss each other passionately like you were trying to reignite the flame you just spent God knows how long fucking out. Your tongues are well acquainted with one another, swirling and bumping and riding past one another knowingly. He pulls away from you, looking in your eyes as he lets spit fall onto your tongue once again. You smile happily as you swallow it—God, you could do this forever. “Come back with me,”

You didn't expect him to say that. You blink your eyes a few times in disbelief. This night can't be any more unreal. He notices your confusion and smiles, “Is that a no–”

“–No! I'll come with you!” you don't know where he’s taking you, or what it means to go with him. You do know that you’ll have a lot to tell Yukong, NDA or not, and that you’ll never forget this day.

Smiling again, this time devilishly, Blade pulls away from you, pinching your cheek. “Good girl.”

#honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai x reader #blade honkai #honkai smut #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr smut #hsr blade #blade smut #blade x reader #blade x you #blade x reader smut #minors & ageless blogs do not interact.#hsr blade smut #hsr ren

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evilminji · 6 months

Text

I just had a Thought that smacked me upside the head and insulted my mother (o.o )

You know how in DC, much like in most media, all Forces have an opposing Force? Fire to Water, Yin to Yang, Order to Chaos, etc etc. Well.....

If you ADD in DP's The Zone?

That right there? Is a Realm. An Element Of Creation. Yes, the glue, the very lining, of the Multiverse. Buuuuuuuut? What is it CONNECTING? The FABRIC? The SHELL and FORM?

What, in a word, is it's Reverse Element? Just as the Speed Force has the Slow Force. As Chaos has Order. What does the Realm of Death have?

I hear you suggest "the living world?" But! Rightfully, you sound uncertain! Because! Death is INHERENT to the so called "living world". Everything is! Order, chaos. Ying, Yang. Fire and water and earth and air! All of it! It's the mid-ground. Shared and thus balanced.

So what sits on the other side of the coin?

I? Propose? Those fffffuckin IMPS! The 5th dimensional imps, known to haunt our beloved DC Heros. Immortal. Eternal. Life unending.

Driven to cruelty and boredom by it.

They are a brilliant, distorted, reflection of the Ghosts we know! Are they not? Not every Imp so powerful as the ones we've seen. But? If, say, Overgrowth or Clockwork? Wanted to just pop in to harrass their favorite Blorbo?

What's a little veil between Realms?

Only thing STOPPING them, is themselves. The Rules. You know... the ones THEY made. Because Goverment. Kinda like the Observants. Walker. Danny and his throne.

I bet they HAAAAAATE each other.

Both have Obsessions, but gods help you if you compare them. Because Ghosts Obsess with the steadiness of the Dead. The unchanging, unrelenting, persistence. While IMPS? Obsessions like firecrackers! Shifting, changing, sticking on this or that! Maybe for a nano-second! Maybe for eons! Who knows?! Not them!

They both think the other side are FREAKS.

The single most OBNOXIOUS, Irritating, Grating, Petty, PATHETIC group of LOSERS you will ever be unfortunate enough to meet.

You think Danny hates the Joker? Is On Sight with HIM? You know NOTHING of his hatred for those big headed little balls of nasally BASTARD energy. It's like weasels and snakes.

Clark loves it. Danny keeps getting free pie. Because EVERY time that Imp comes to harrass him? *unholy staticy yowl screech* *flying tackle out of the air into a cartoonish dust cloud fist fight* here comes the normally cheerful and polite Phantom, looking POSSESSED. To claw Mxyzptlk's throat out.

Of course, the Imps refuse to give up. They were stalking their targets first. PHANTOM should leave.

Phantom shouts something that makes them gasp, deeply offended, and the nearby magic users choke on their own spit.

Yep. Clark LOVES the newest addition to the team. Best decision they ever made, Bruce. He's DELIGHTFUL :D

@the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @ailithnight @hypewinter @hdgnj

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt

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