#dear fucking god please leave then

[idekwtf-is-happening]

Damien’s currently getting cancelled on Twitter for *checks to make sure I’m reading this shit right* apologizing for a joke he made five years ago where he mentioned the conflict in Gaza

#every time I go back to Twitter I am reminded why I keep the app closed #some girl was hounding him for an apology #he apologized #she continued hounding him #he was polite and stated his confusion for bringing up a five year old joke #she again continued hounding him #he tweeted separately that he is stepping back from social media for a bit #she and a couple other sjw teens are now bashing him #friendly reminder that he was the only smosh member to publicly talk about Palestine and his support for them #the sjws are really coming for the sweetest person at smosh saying that they might just have to leave the fandom as to not see his face #dear fucking god please leave then #stfu and cloud watch or something #also his joke want even poking fun at any victims it was simply mentioning the complexities of the situation #that’s literally it #anyways if you see anything like that with someone going too far then just report them and their post for harassment and bullying and #DONT interact with them #they’re literally so pissy that he blocked them after harassing them like no fucking duh dude #anyways I hope they get some love from their parents so maybe they won’t have to live on Twitter anymore #have a good day and report and ignore sjws!!! #smosh #damien Haas #I fucking hate twitter

[xxinkyshadowxx]

Little reminder for the people who forgot Kieran is 14 years old FOURTEEN meaning that any suggestive content of him automatically makes the poster of it weird as fuck ESPECIALLY if they are an adult but even if they are a minor posting suggestive stuff of a fourteen year old is still super weird so maybe don't do that

#kieran pokemon #pokemon indigo disk #rival kieran #pokemon dlc #pokemon teal mask #kieran sv #trainer kieran #pokemon kieran #IVE FUCKING HAD IT WITH THE R34 AND SUGGESTIVE SHIT OH MY GOD IM SO DONE STOP IT EVERY DAMN SITE I GO ONTO ITS ALWAYS HEY LETS GO LOOK AT #KIERAN FANART THAT SHOULD BE FUN! and OH DEAR GOD THATS R34 OKAY! HOW ABOUT WE GO LOOK ELSEWHERE AND OH! HAHA THATS AN ADULT SHIPPING #THEMSELF WITH KIERAN A FOURTEEN YEAR OLD OKAY WELL HOW ABOUT I GO LOOK AT FANFICS AND HCS? AND OH OKAY WELL THATS SUPER SUGGESTIVE EVEN THO #HE IS FOURTEEN HAHA! FUNNY GUYS SO FUNNY SO HAPPY FUN TIMES LETS SEXUALIZE THE FOURTEEN YEAR OLD!!!!!! #Like duh no shit it's the internet I can't stop it but at the same time fucking knock it off? It's not that hard and as long as it's there #You will see me ranting about it because it's not okay it's just not Im just so done with seeing it please leave him alone

[fromthegraveyard]

why didn't anyone make a destiel meme about spn possibly coming back i can't believe i had to find out about this the normal way

#destiel #spn #supernatural #also dear god why won't you let this show DIE? #it's almost funny that the characters that kept being brought back to life against their will #are part of a show that keeps coming back to life against everyone's will #did you read that?? ALMOST #listen i love spn so much i grew up with this show it is so special to me and recently i've been getting full on obsessed with it again #BUT IT'S OVER LET IT DIE #the ending was absolute shit so just leave it as it is #stop trying to add on to it “the winchesters” made it clear that it doesn't work #just please leave spn alone you guys have fucked it over again and again after season six just let it REST #that said yes i will at least try to watch if it does come back #but i couldn't get through the first few minutes of “the winchesters” so possibly the same thing will happen again

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Envy to anyone who doesn't live in the UK and doesn't have to fear JK Rowling using UK Law's to go after people for just stating facts that she's a holocaust denier.

#i feel so bad for the person who had to tweet its false and apologize #you know that was done with JK and her lawyers breathing down their neck #like please dear god leave them alone if you see them online #they were forced to do the tweet or have JK basically fuck up their life with the law #and we know the law favors people like JK #JK is all about tweeting shit but when you state what those tweets are she runs to the lawyers

[supporthimbos]

Amelia after every "twin chat": this is the last revelation about Zeph, I promise

Amelia five minutes later: so here's something else I hid from you about zeph

Shut up about Zeph!!!!!

#honestly i dont fucking care about zeph #i dont know him #he is some random name i have no emotional attachment to #the only feeling i have is annoyance every time i have to leave my li to talk to amelia about him #please dear god shut the fuck up about zeph #litg season 6 #litg #litg 6 #litg amelia #litg zeph

[piplupod]

hate that you can have possibly the most horrific realisation of your life and your body completely freaks out and starts fighting itself and you are just expected to keep going with your day like normal. i feel like maybe i should get a month away from any and all responsibilities at the very least to recover and adjust to having this knowledge

#my god!!! my god!!! the horrors do not end!!! #in fact old horrors will come back to haunt you again!!! #i wish i had not gone digging and prodding but oops i am so stupid and also i cannot stop my brain from putting pieces together!! #i have a counseling appt tomorrow but i honestly dont think i can bring this up. how do u bring up such a thing! esp when u have no proof! #i do not think the pieces would all fit together so perfectly and the body and brain would not react so violently if it were not true thoug #i do not want it to be true dear fucking god can this not be true please. can i be mistaken maybe. can it be just a series of coincidences. #i do not know how to cope with this if it is true. and the most awful thing is i'll likely never know for sure #i do not have memory of any of those times. i will never know unless another part comes forward w memories #and maybe its better to not know? but i feel sick. i feel so very sick!! i cannot deal w this!! #Chase took over for half the day and he's sooo pissed at me for digging but i sincerely could not stop putting things together #everyone in the brain is so mad at me i think fsdjkl i feel so awful and sick and the body is so fucked up now #i want to bring it up w counselor but i'd have to bring up a lot of other things and she's about to go on pregnancy/maternity leave #i dont want to be... burdensome. and idk who will be replacing her #idk !!! i wish i could just undo all of that thinking this morning!! i fucked up!! i shouldnt have thought about it!! #i regret it but i also cannot stop wanting to know the truth!! and i hate this!! i dont want this to be real!! please i hope its not!! #pippen needs 2nd breakfast

[yourplasticpal]

Two things I, an Old who Nonetheless Consumes Fanwork, know to be true.

1: Every fandom (especially the queer ones) will cycle through the "porn has no place here / think of the children" conversation eventually, possibly multiple times.

2: When grown adult byler pursue their grown adult sexual relationship, Will proves to be a service top with a touch of gentle dom, while Mike is mostly a pillow princess with a praise kink a mile wide.

2.5: Get off my lawn.

#byler #stranger things #byler is endgame #byler will save the world #and be rewarded with epic orgasms at the appropriate stage #leave the actors well out of it though #especially children dear fucking god #learn the difference between real and fictional people #your pal is a crotchety old queer #clutch your pearls elsewhere please and thank you #curate your own online experience #or tell your parents to do their fucking job #byler tumblr #fandom is supposed to be fun

[ammoniteflesh]

"I would rather not linger here," Solas says, watching my second attempt to parkour across the edge of an enormous cliff to reach some loot.

#speak faust #da #faust plays da:i #presumably his internal monologue is something along the lines of 'dear god the Inquisitor is about to fall to her fucking death' #'and I'm going to lose the anchor forever because she wanted some extra gold' #'CAN WE PLEASE LEAVE NOW'

[posallys]

My mom: "i miss you like crazy!!"

Like....one, i don't care it's not reciprocated, and two, do you miss me or do you miss the person who did your job as a mother for you? Because my money is on the second.

#i am begging this woman to stop calling me every other day #i answer out of guilt and not wanting to completely burn bridges but dear god #i left for a reason please just. leave me the fuck alone

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

“Too fucked out to reply, sweetheart?” Simon teased, nipping at the skin at the base of your throat. “Nothin’ else you want to yell at me for?”

You let out a groan in reply, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you held onto Simon’s shoulders for dear life as he fucked up into you. “F-fuck you, Si.”

“I’m trying, love.” Simon nipped again at your throat, eliciting a yelp from you. “You come home all mad from your bad day, and take it out on me, huh? What did I do to deserve the attitude, sweet girl?”

“N-Nothing!” You panted breathlessly as Simon continued to ruthlessly pound into you, his cock hitting spots within you that you didn’t even know existed.

“That right?” Simon threw you a smirk, before stalling his hips completely, his cock resting motionless inside of you. “You just needed someone to take your bad mood out on?”

“‘M sorry, Simon.” You moaned, squirming underneath your boyfriend in hopes he’ll start moving again. “Please.”

“Nuh uh, you’ve been bratty. You want to be fucked? You gotta do the work yourself.” Simon flipped the two of you over, smirking as you now sat perched on top of him. “Go on then, use my cock to make you feel better.”

You pursed your lips together in frustration, your nails digging into Simon’s chest as you lifted yourself off his length, before sinking yourself back down onto it. The stretch of him inside of you never failed to make your mouth water. “Oh my god, Simon.”

Your nails began to leave crescents across your lovers chest, marks Simon would be sure to flaunt later. You set a steady pace, the only thing mattering in that moment being your inevitable orgasm.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl.” Simon praised, his eyes locked onto the divine sight of you fucking yourself on his cock. “Keep using me, go on. Make yourself cum.”

As Simon’s fingers squeezed at your hips, and his low grunts and groans filled the room you felt yourself growing closer to your high. His cock was sinking deep within you, causing your mind to run blank.

And with Simon’s sweet praises falling from his lips as you came undone on top of him, the entirety of your shitty day was long forgotten.

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

A/N: excuse the double post- been in a bit of a writing frenzy.

Planning on taking a break for a little while soon, wanted to thank everyone again for the support💕

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #cod imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #female reader

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Pairing: Alastor x fem! reader

Background: reader is Lilith and Lucifers oldest, and resembles Lilith more. Lucifer has a hard time bonding with her because of this, and Alastor decides to step in.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"DAD'S COMING?!"

(Y/N) Morningstar, firstborn daughter of Lilith and Lucifer, was currently having a breakdown over the fact that her father was on his way to the hotel.

She'd have no issue leaving, of course, but Charlie tricked her dear old sister into staying by saying she needed help with the hotel. . .and told her their dad was coming when he was two minutes away.

It's not like she didn't miss him, but things became different once their mother disappeared. Lucifer threw himself into his ideas, and (Y/N) tried maintaining their relationship but he couldn't even stand the look of her.

"I'm sorry! But I thought maybe you guys could talk while he's here?" Charlie suggested with a gulp, twiddling her fingers.

"I'm done trying with dad. If he wants to talk, he can come to me," (Y/N) crossed her arms, firm on her stance.

"I never thought I'd meet someone with worse daddy issues, but here you are, cher," Alastor, with his famous grin, looked down at the Princess of Hell. She huffed, not in the mood for his side comments.

"Alastor, please-"

"He's here!"

"-please fucking hide me!" She ran behind him, despite the mass amount of blonde hair making it obvious.

He chuckled.

Honestly, since meeting the eldest Morningstar, Alastor deemed himself her Protector. Not that the girl wasn't capable or needed him persay, but he cared for her. Being on the aroace spectrum, he wasn't plagued by a selfish desire to fuck her, but it was a sweet concern that slowly turned into a need to be near her.

A need to make her his.

"Hopefully he doesn't-"

"Pumpkin?"

"Fuck," (Y/N) silently cursed under her breath before Alastor stepped aside.

"Hey dad," Lucifer felt a pang in his sinister heart at her tone. She sounded uncomfortable and wouldn't even look at him, but he also remembered that he couldn't look at her at times.

It reminded him of happier times.

Times he didn't want to be reminded of anymore.

"So how've you been? Heard you've got a fancy job now. Probably making loads of money, huh?" He chuckled nervously.

"Dad, it's my company. I made it."

And he couldn't even remember that she did that?

Any dad would remember that his child created her own business.

"Ouch."

"And it's got a fucking duck on the logo. God, dad," She rose her voice, "you can't even remember that?"

"I've been busy, pumpkin-"

"Too busy to call? Too busy to even fucking call?!"

Charlie flinched at the harshness in her voice. She's always been a firecracker but she's never seen her so angry.

"I'm not fighting with you, (Y/N)," Lucifer stepped towards her, "why do you insist on fighting? Especially when I'm here for Charlie."

"Oh, you're here for Charlie?" Her horns started to come up through her skin, rolling back like a rams.

Just like her mom.

"I'm not making this about me. I just wish you'd make the effort instead of it having to be me," She missed who he was.

And during this, Alastor could see the pain on her face. She was furious, and rightfully so.

But he let her fight her own battles.

"I'm sorry that I look like mom. Is that what you want me to say?!"

"Yes!"

He didn't mean it. Of fucking course he didn't mean it, but it slipped out.

"Dad! That's enough!" Charlie ran to her, seeing tears well up in her sisters eyes. "How could you say that?"

"Pumpkin, I-"

"Don't," She sniffled, holding Charlie close, "don't come near me."

But he didn't listen.

He hated being the fact that his little girl was crying because of him.

"I think you've come far enough," Alastor spoke, getting infront of Charlie and (Y/N). He is excellent at saving face, so his pure unadulterated rage was hidden beneath his smile.

She hiccuped behind him, sobbing into Charlie's shoulder.

"Don't make me move you," Lucifer glared.

"And don't make me fucking kill you for hurting what's mine."

His voice turned more static-like than before, his eyes a burning red and his horns outstretched. He was a fucking shield for his Princess, and not even the King of Hell could get through. Lucifer recognized this and humbly backed away, retreating with his tail between his legs.

_ _ ☆ _ _

(Y/N) spent the next hour crying in her room. Over the years, she had started to hate herself for looking like her mom, and Lucifers' confirmation only reaffirmed it.

"Need anything else?" Charlie asked her. Although her sister wasn't searching for redemption, she had her own personal room in the hotel.

"Can you get Alasto-?"

A knock sounded at the door.

"Was he there the whole time?" She sniffled, and a muffled "maybe" came through the door.

Her bed was surrounded by napkins that she quickly placed on her bedside as Charlie allowed Alastor inside.

Alone.

The two of them.

Might as well just throw them condoms and say get to it, is what (Y/N) was thinking. She's known about her crush on The Radio Demon for a few months now, having a fantasy dream here and there, but wasn't much of an active person herself.

"Thank you. I know he tried to fix it, but I couldn't stand to look at him," Her puffy eyes made Alastors eye twitch, still a small spout of anger for her father.

"Of course, my dear," He sat himself next to her on the bed.

"Because your father, although the King of Hell, is a fucking coward", is what he wanted to say but kept those words for himself.

"Did you mean it? That I'm yours?" She asked, her hand inching closer to his.

"I never say anything I don't mean, cher," He grabbed her hand, kissed it, and made the she-demon gasp.

"I thought you hated touch."

He chuckled, "Oh, I do, but not if it's you. Your skin is warm, and it brings me comfort. You bring me comfort."

"You'd have me, even if I want to be glued to your side? Even having petty fights with my dad?"

"Darling, I'd wear your skin if you asked."

"Oh, how romantic," She blushed before both his hands came up to her face, bringing her into a needy kiss. With her, he needed to feel her.

Someday, even all of her.

"And I'd eat demons with you," She whispered against his lips.

"Oh my heart may burst, my dear."

Taglist: @lorkai @droopingdatura @tr1coo @randomuser-89 @abbiedail @evelin1o1 @sseleniaa

#alastor imagine #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine

[strang3lov3]

Dirty Laundry

Joel's best kept secret is the washer and dryer he's not supposed to have. Your best kept secret is that you've been using that washer to get yourself off.

Tags - 18+, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, masturbation on a washing machine, dirty boxer sniffing (you fucking freak), fantasizing about a dirty old man, unprotected piv, creampie, curmudgeon joel talks you through knife safety, washing machine repairs, and overstim. 8k words, idk what the fuck happened. Thank you to @noxturnalpascal , @beefrobeefcal , and @papipascalispunk for helping me edit this monstrosity and @joelsgreys for letting me scream about washers and dryers for days <3 A/N - i have worked harder on this than my finals, but that should surprise no one. i only have one more left and then you should be seeing more of me this summer <3 i have a lot a lot a lot planned and I've been so excited to share new shit with you. Roman girlies, I haven't forgotten about you. He's up next. Anyway, you maniacs know what you’re here for, so please enjoy.

Joel’s best kept secret is his Whirlpool brand washer and dryer set, which is hidden deep in his basement. You stand before it now, loading your dirty laundry into it, using what is definitely too much of Joel’s detergent. 

Perhaps it’s more accurate to say his washer and dryer set was his best kept secret, until you came along and forced his hand. Everything was fine, and then you showed up, both yourself and your basket of laundry soaking wet, leaving Joel with no choice but to lend you a hand. Biggest mistake of his life. 

As great as Jackson is, it still comes up short sometimes. Not with everything; you’re beyond blessed to live in the safety of its walls. Just technologically, sometimes it can leave you missing the finer things. It's not Jackson’s fault society is twenty years into an apocalypse, thus running on twenty-plus year old appliances. The older ovens, refrigerators, and other appliances that were built in the seventies to the nineties or so are surprisingly doing alright, but the ones built when manufacturing began to take a turn for the worse around the later nineties and 2000s are beginning to crap out, especially the washers. God, you hate laundry day. The washers at the laundromat in Jackson always give you a hard time. Week after week, your chosen washer won’t start, or it’ll stop mid-cycle. The laundry attendant, Patti, often helps you wash your clothes by hand which is nice, but still frustrating for you both. 

On a busy and gloomy Sunday a couple months back, you were lucky enough to pick one of the less temperamental washers and hardly had to fight or beg and plead with it to get it to wash your clothes. However, your luck ran out when it came time to dry, your dryer wouldn’t run. Refused to start, even with Patti’s help. Worse yet, every other dryer was in use at the moment.  You were shit out of luck. Patti offered you a sympathetic smile and sent you home with a baggy full of clothes pins and a wagon to carry your basket of sopping wet clothes. The clothespins were a nice gesture, but didn’t help much as you didn’t have a clothesline. And - you had to laugh - most of them were broken. Oh dear, sweet Patti.

Once at home, you did your best to hang up your clothes on your porch, laying them out over the thick wooden railing, securing them with rocks. The wind was blowing something fierce that day, and then you felt it – a raindrop. And then another, and another. Before you knew it, you were caught in a torrential downpour, with your clothes blowing every which way. Working to gather your clothes as quickly as possible, you haphazardly chucked the rocks that were keeping them still in every direction, your neighbor Joel interrupting the task when he came outside and started to shout at you. Joel’s a man that can only be described as crotchety. A curmudgeon, even. 

“The fuck are you throwing rocks at my window for?” he shouted, but you couldn’t hear him over the sound of the wind and the rain smacking your porch. 

“What?” you yelled back, “Joel, I can’t hear you.” 

“ROCKS,” he shouted again, “Why are you throwi–” Joel realized it was a lost cause then. He could see in your face that you couldn’t hear him, you looked puzzled and annoyed for a moment before you returned to throwing rocks and gathering clothes. “Fuck it,” he mumbled to himself. Through the pouring rain, he marched across both his and your lawns and right up the steps of your porch. “What are you doing?”

“I was at the laundromat and the dryer stopped working so Patti gave me clothespins but I don’t have a clothesline so I tried to lay them out on my porch with rocks so they could dry but then it started to ra–” Getting the picture, Joel had stopped listening to you and joined you in gathering your clothes tossing stones back into the rock edging surrounding your house. “What are you doing?” you asked. 

“Nothin’, just– come on. Let’s go – we’re goin’ to my house,” he answered, dumping the last of your clothes into your basket. 

“Why?”

Lightning shoots from a nearby cloud, with booming thunder following suit. Joel’s soaking wet, as are you. His hair was dark and stuck to his forehead, his thin t-shirt clung to his body, outlining his soft, pillowy tummy and belly button and his thick, muscular biceps. “Go, go, go,” Joel shouted, waving you away. “Just go. Move.” he grunted as he lifted up your laundry basket and hauled it across the grass in quick strides. He held the basket on his hip as he opened his door for you, guiding you inside with a push to your lower waist. 

Your shoes squeaked as you followed Joel through his house. He took your basket down his basement stairs, “Be careful for me, stairs are steep,” he warned you, “Don’t need you crackin’ your skull open. Got enough shit to deal with.” It was sweet, knowing that he was looking out for you – even with the irritation lacing his tone. 

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you saw what Joel had led you to. A washer and a dryer, olive green in color. He opened the door of the dryer and shoved your wet clothes inside it, then took off his own soaked shirt and pants and tossed them in too. “They’re clean,” he told you. 

In another lifetime where the world doesn’t go to shit and fungus is the least of your problems, the mundane appliances in front of you would be the very last thing on your mind. You’d be focused on Joel, watching rivulets of water slide down his jaw, past his Adam’s apple and pool in the hollow of his throat. You’d be tracing the outline of his body with your eyes, following that thin line of hair that spreads down his lower stomach, disappearing under his boxers. You’d be eyeing his thick bulge and the way that if you squint, you could see the outline of his cock. But in this life, in this moment – where the world went to shit a long time ago – you’re more amazed by the washer and dryer he stands next to. “This is why I never see you at the laundromat? The whole time, you’ve had a washer and dryer?” you asked, astonished. 

“M’not supposed to, but yeah,” Joel answered, shutting the dryer door before turning to you with his chin tilted down, eyebrows raised. Don’t you go tellin’ anyone, now.”

“I’m gonna tell Patti.”

Joel looked betrayed and puzzled. “I’m doin’ you a favor,” he reminded you.

“I know.”

“You want me to dry your clothes or not?” You crossed your arms and bit the inside of your cheek as you shrugged. “Oh, Christ,” Joel grumbled under his breath. “Why the hell would you go and rat me out?”

“Because, Joel, ” you began explaining, “All of the washers and dryers are breaking and you’re hoarding your own? I don’t think so – if everyone else has to share the washers, then you do too,” you scolded. “It’s selfish.” 

“Life ain’t fair, sweetheart.” You stared at Joel for a moment before turning on your heel to go tattle on him, just like you swore you would. “Wait–” Joel grabbed your arm, stopping you. Despite being long gone from Boston QZ, Joel couldn’t quite shake those smuggling and bargaining habits of his. You were serious about this threat, and he knew it. You’d march your ass through the pouring rain to go snitch on him to Patti. And really, the worst that would’ve happened to Joel would be a scolding from Maria and the washer and dryer removed from his home and placed in the laundromat. It’s not like he’d be placed in a pillory and have rotten tomatoes thrown at him. But still. Joel liked his washer and dryer. He sighed. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything, Joel. I just want to better our community.” 

Give me a break. “What do you want,” he repeated, his voice lower. 

You pressed your lips in a thin line, eyeing those pretty olive green appliances of his. It’s not a far walk to Joel’s house… And you wouldn’t have to wait in line to wash your clothes behind twenty other people. You did want to better your community, that much was true. But you weren’t opposed to bettering your own life. “Let me use your washer and dryer. Whenever I want.”

Joel was quick to counter in a stern voice, “Twice a week, tops.” 

“Three times,” you tried.

“Once,” Joel lowered his offer and then looked at you with his eyes squinted, his head cocked to the side. “Who does laundry three times a week?” 

It was a fair point. Even with your very own washer and dryer, you wouldn’t do that much laundry. “Fine. Twice,” you agreed, and Joel held out his hand for you to take and you shook on it. His palm was warm and calloused, his grip firm. In that moment you met his eyes, taking in the beauty of his face. Those sparkling, big brown eyes and the beautiful curve of his aquiline nose. Your eyes traveled lower still, and it hit you both at that moment - the realization that Joel was wearing nothing but his boxers, and that you were still shivering in your cold, wet clothes. Joel dropped your hand quickly and grabbed a clean t-shirt from one of his own laundry baskets on top of the dryer. “Here. You can change into this and toss your clothes in there too, f’ya want.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking the shirt from his hand. “Do you have something to wear?”

“I’m a little behind on laundry, actually…” Joel trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. You scoffed and chuckled at that. The luxury of his very own washer and dryer, right in the comfort of his home, and Joel had the audacity to be behind on laundry. “Uhh, anyway. You just turn the knob on the dryer to ‘high’ and press the start button. I’ll give ya some privacy to change, you can meet me upstairs when you’re done,” he said, and then shuffled past you. 

Once Joel was up the stairs, you took off your clothes and put them in with the rest of the clothing in the dryer. You changed into Joel’s t-shirt, the fabric was soft with time and many wearings, and it smelled like him despite being washed. It was a muted teal in color, littered with a couple of bleach stains here and there. You liked it. 

Upstairs, Joel made a couple of mugs of hot tea to warm you both up. “Honey?” 

“Yeah, Joel?”

“N- no, like…Was askin’ f’ya wanted honey in your tea.”

“Oh.” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “Y– yes please. Thank you.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks. What a stupid thing to say. You watched as Joel stirred a bit of honey into your cup of tea, smirking as he then handed you the mug. Asshole. “Thought you were a coffee drinker,” you mused awkwardly, attempting to change the subject after taking a sip of the hot liquid, “You like tea?”

Joel grimaced in disgust as he took a sip of his own tea. “No. Just tryin’ to be polite for ya.” 

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it, you know,” you smiled into your mug. 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Aaand there it is. Curmudgeon Joel was back, Neighborly Joel never lasted long anyway. 

You sat on Joel’s couch, warming up with your cup of tea. Joel had noticed goosebumps on your thighs and pulled a blanket over your lap. He sat next to you with his mug steaming in his hands and just stared at you, not even realizing how deeply he was admiring the way his shirt hugged your curves just right, highlighting all the right parts of you. He jolted when he felt his cock thicken in his boxers, spilling his scalding hot tea all over his bare thighs. “God bless it,” he swore. Without thinking, he pulled the blanket from your legs and covered his own lap to hide his growing erection from you. 

“Joel, what the fuck?” 

“Nothin’. Just– m’cold,” he lied. “Jesus fuckin’- just - c’mere,” Joel huffed as he patted the spot next to him and urged you closer, then laid the blanket back over your legs. You sat shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh as you sipped your tea and Joel’s went cold. Dork. 

Moments passed. You sat in silence, the only sound was the rain pounding against Joel’s windows as your heart fluttered in anxiety, or maybe excitement. You might’ve even called it butterflies in your tummy. But you knew better. It was just the close proximity to Joel. And the fact that you were wearing his shirt, and he was practically naked. All of it pretty insignificant, honestly. It was basically nothing.

Joel finally spoke first, “Was thinkin’ it’d be best if you’d come by at night, when I’m on patrol or somethin’. Nobody’ll see you with your laundry and it’ll stay our lil’ secret, yeah?” You nodded, still a little bashful with everything that had happened. You aren’t often like that. It’s cute, Joel thought. “An’ you can use my detergent and whatnot. Whatever you need, s’yours.” 

“Thank–” an especially bright flash of lightning followed by nearly deafening thunder interrupted you. You startled and sort of hurled yourself closer to Joel, grabbed his forearm and held it tight. It was just a reflex, probably. Basically nothing. 

“It’s just a storm, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna bite ya,” Joel teases with a grin. 

“Oh, shut up,” you let go of his arm and missed the warmth of his skin beneath your palm almost immediately, but your longing for his touch was quickly soothed. Joel wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his side as you listened to the sounds of the storm together. You stayed like that, inhaling the sweet scent of him, masculine and heady. He smelled like the rain, too, and the hair on his underarms tickled your skin but you didn’t mind. When your laundry dried, he carried your basket home for you. You thanked him and moved to shut the door, but Joel stopped it with his hand, “Washer can be sorta delicate sometimes, so just be careful with it.”

“Noted,” you replied. “See ya, Joel.”

“See ya, hon.”

A few nights later, you returned to his home with your basket of laundry. Joel was gone, on patrol as he often is at night. Doing the laundry was uneventful , even though you probably used too much detergent, but whatever. Joel didn’t have to know. The next time you did laundry, Joel was at home. He told you not to worry about whichever nights you come by, that he’d always leave the washer and dryer empty in the evenings for you to use. He was even generous enough to make you dinner that night. 

It all worked out. Joel’s washer and dryer stayed unknown to the rest of Jackson, and your laundry was cleaned in a much more efficient way. There really weren’t any flaws in your and Joel’s system, as long as you didn’t include the one laundry night where Joel was gone on patrol again, but had come home just as you were leaving. You bumped into him accidentally, causing a lacy pair of your panties to fall right out of your basket and onto his shoe. He bent down and picked them up for you, not even realizing what he was holding. “Oh. My bad,” he blushed, once he recognized the garment. “I’ll just…” and put them back in your basket. From that point forward, he was always careful to stay out of your way. Aside from that it really did all work out. 

-

After loading your clothes into Joel’s washer, you shut the washer door and turn it on. You make your way upstairs and there’s a note on Joel’s table – Leftovers in the fridge are yours if you wanna heat them up.

Opening the fridge, you see a neatly packed container of what looks to be chicken and vegetables. Yum. God, you’ll miss these vegetables when it gets cold again. You take advantage of the offer and heat up the food in a pan on the stovetop, humming to yourself as you stir the food to keep it from burning. A light flickers above you. Weird. It flickers again, and then finally goes out. But it’s no big deal, you’ve seen in Joel’s basement that above the washer and dryer is a shelf full of supplies and you know there’s a couple of bulbs there. You go back downstairs where the washer hums, working its way through the cycle.

“Hmm,” you hum to yourself. You’d never quite realized just how high up that supply shelf is. And the bulbs are in the middle of the shelf, so there’s no good way to get them without climbing on top of the washer, which Joel would probably kill you for doing. He did ask that you be careful with his fragile washer, after all. Whatever. It’ll take like six seconds, tops. You hoist yourself on the washer and first try kneeling on it to see if you can reach one of the bulbs. No luck. You stand on your feet then, raising yourself up carefully, slowly, feeling the washer shake slightly beneath your feet. Joel would be absolutely irate if he saw you like this now. When you finally grab one of those light bulbs, you carefully lower yourself to a seated position on the washer to catch your breath. You’re not usually prone to vertigo, but Joel’s wobbly washer brought the dizziness on. You know better than to try and move right now, so you just settle yourself down to avoid fainting.  

The washer vibrates under the flesh of your thighs. It’s a gentle sensation, lessened by the angle you’re sitting at. But if you focus really hard, you can feel it in your core. Curious, you spread your legs and turn to the corner of the washer, tilting your hips to the floor, and oh, this is it. You’re not even thinking about potential consequences when you shimmy your shorts and panties off, then find that sweet spot once more. The metal of the washer is cool against you as it vibrates, sending sweet little buzzes through your hot core. You’re not quite wet yet, just enjoying the sensation. Letting it build and build, seeing where it can get you. You let your mind wander, not really thinking about much in particular. The low hum of the washer fades away in your mind and you’re starting to become wet. Shifting your position, you extend your arm to find something to grab onto when you feel fabric. Joel’s clothes. He’s still a slacker with keeping up on his dirty laundry. Usually it would irritate you. It does irritate you, this exorbitant waste of an advantage he has. You look at the shirt in your hand, the same shirt Joel had lent you. You think back to that first time you did laundry here at Joel’s, how he sat next to you nearly naked. The feel of his skin and the smell of him - sweat and rain and musk. And Joel being the beautiful, incognizant man he is, probably had zero clue of how sexy he looked. Or smelled, for that matter. 

With Joel now on your mind and his shirt in your hand, you decide to experiment, create a better ambiance. You keep those images of him in your mind, those feelings too. You remember the low timbre of his voice, the rain splashing against the windows, the weight of his arm wrapped around your shoulders. And with his dirty t-shirt clutched in your fist and its armpit pressed against your nose you remember his scent. Smell is a powerful sense, closely linked to memory and emotion, his shirt and what it’s doing to you is a testament to that fact. Legs spread wide, your hips angled down with your clit pressed to the corner of Joel’s washer, the machine vibrating under you as you inhale his scent deeply - you’re back in that memory. And then some. 

In your mind, your back on Joel’s couch. You can smell him, feel him, and if you really concentrate, you can even taste him. You’re on your knees and he’s drawing lazy patterns on your back as you suck his cock and fondle his balls, and he’s moaning, grunting and whimpering your name. He tastes like he smells, heady and all masculine. He grips the back of your neck and lifts you up, guides you to straddle his hips. His forehead pressed against yours, he notches the tip of his cock inside you and pulls you down slowly, careful so as not to hurt you but it does, of course it does. Not that you mind, you love the stretch and the ache of his thickness splitting you in two. You rock yourself, grind your clit against that unruly patch of hair at the base of his cock. You’re coming, you’re coming, you’re coming. 

You’re coming. Loudly, whimpering Joel’s name as you rut against the vibrating machine. As you finish, so does the washer. It sings you a little chiming song indicating the load is done washing. You can’t help but giggle at that as you bask in the discovery of this fortuitous delight. You’ve got private access to a washer and dryer and a vibrator now too? Lucky, lucky, lucky. 

God, Joel’s shirt smells good. You inhale it deeply, wondering if he wears cologne. It smells almost woodsy…smokey, even. 

Fuck. You’re smelling smoke. 

You pull on your pants and sprint up the steps, racing to Joel’s kitchen only to find that the chicken and veggies you were heating up are no more. They’re black and shriveled, cemented to the stainless steel pan, and there’s no salvaging that. No amount of scrubbing can erase your masturbatory mistake. Fuck, Joel’s gonna kill you. Your only choice is to conceal the evidence. Surreptitiously, you take the pan and hide it under a bush outside Joel’s backdoor.

You’ll be more responsible next time - yes, there absolutely will be a next time. Gas off before you get off. 

The next time came and went. And the time after that, and the one after that. Laundry was always your least favorite chore, but with access to Joel’s washer and dryer and this new trick up your sleeve, it’s not so bad. Getting off on Joel’s washer has become a weekly thing and it’s been lovely, relieving, dirty, and exciting, but you’d be lying if you were to say it’s been perfectly fine the whole time. 

You’ve been abusing the poor machine. It’s no secret. You get every bang for your buck out of the washer, taking full advantage of Joel’s twice a week offer and then some. Some nights you’ll sneak over and do an extra load, wash a blanket or something just to make the washer run for your masturbatory purposes. And so, the vibrating sensation the machine produces has begun to weaken. In order to compensate, you’ve been rocking yourself harder on it, which probably isn’t helping. But it’s still washing your clothes, right? 

…Yes. Mostly. It still washes, but it’s become sort of finicky. And the door doesn’t quite shut the way it used to, and it makes an odd noise now that it never made before. 

Tonight you’re at Joel’s doing a double load of laundry. There were no ulterior motives on your part when you came over, honestly and truly. Your first load is drying, the second load is in the washer. Joel’s home tonight, he’s gonna cook you dinner like he always does when he’s around. For such a grouch, he wears his heart on his sleeve. 

It would be more accurate to say you’re cooking dinner together. Joel came home with a basket full of fresh vegetables from the market and actually put you to work, his reasoning being that he was starving and wanted dinner ready yesterday, and that having your help cutting up the vegetables for the meal he was making would have dinner ready that much sooner. He places a cutting board in front of you and hands you a knife, “Chop chop,” he says, then laughs at his own pun as he rifles through some cabinets. “Missin’ a saucepan…” he mumbles to himself. Oops.

You start by peeling the carrots. As you begin to chop them, you realize he didn’t give you any sort of instruction. “Joel?”

“Yeah, hon.”

“How small do you need me to cut the carrots?”

“Uhhhh,” he thinks. “Lemme see.” Joel turns around and watches you with a look of disappointment and repulsion painting his features. “What’s the matter with you?”

“What?” you ask defensively. 

“Why are you tryin’ to cut off your fingers?”

You look down at your hand holding the carrot and your other hand holding the knife, then up at Joel. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I’m not trying to cut off my fingers.”

“Sure looks like it to me. Is that always how you handle a knife?”

“Yeah,” you reply, “Why?”

“‘Cause you’re gonna cut off your damn fingers, dammit, that’s why. C’mere,” Joel stands behind you where you stand at the island, then lifts up your left hand and curls your fingers underneath themselves. “Keep your fingers like this,” he instructs. “Holdin’ your fingers out flat like that are a sure fire way to cut ‘em off. Now show me how you chop.” 

With your fingers in the proper position now, you begin to cut the carrots. They wobble beneath you, you hate the way Joel has you holding them. “This is uncomfortable,” you tell him. 

“You know what’s more uncomfortable? Missin’ fingers. Keep goin’.” You groan but keep chopping per his demand. He’s pressed against your back, one of his palms lays flat against the countertop, semi caging you in as he watches you work. “Okay, okay, stop. You’re makin’ me nervous. Gimme this.” Joel wraps his hand around yours on the handle of the knife. He moves the knife for you, cutting the carrot slowly, your hand securely in his. “You’re liftin’ the knife too much, sweetheart. Just rock it back and forth for me. Just like this,” he whispers, showing you how he rocks the knife in a fluid motion to cut the carrots. His hands are warm, his grip on your hands is firm. His breath is hot and tickles your ear, sending goosebumps erupting down the back of your neck. He chops the carrots quietly, and you feel him against you - the rise and fall of his chest and tummy with each inhale and exhale he takes, his wiry scruff kissing the side of your face. “That’s it,” he praises, “Good girl.”

Fuck. His words go right to your core. As if him holding your hands and caging you in to teach you how to cut vegetables wasn’t enough, he had to call you ‘good girl’ as well. That had to be deliberate on his part, you’re almost certain of it. And now you’ve got to pay his washer another visit. His fault, honestly. “Laundry,” you blurt out, pushing his hands off of yours and shrinking away from his hold. “Sorry. Gotta check the laundry.”

“Oh. Alright, then.” Joel watches you pace down the basement stairs and listens to you pretend to check on your clothes, opening and shutting the washer and dryer doors. He’s waiting for you to come upstairs, but you never do. “You comin’ upstairs?”

“Yeah, just a minute,” you call back.

“There’s spiders down there, you know. Big an’ fuzzy too.” 

“I’ll be fine,” you yell as you unbutton your shorts and pull them down your legs. “I don’t mind them.”

Your reply immediately has Joel feeling suspicious of you. Even a mention of a mere ant should have sent you running into his arms and pleading with him to get rid of it. On more than one occasion, Joel’s woken up to you pounding on his door in the middle of the night begging him to come kill a spider that’s in your bedroom. And he always does, of course, even when the spider is miniscule and simply minding its business in a corner somewhere. He’ll scoop it into the palm of his hand and set it outside in a bed of flowers, call you a wimp and be on his merry way, grumbling the entire walk home. He wonders why the hell you’re so brave all of a sudden. 

A loud, clunking noise interrupts the silence. “Oh, fuck,” you swear. And Joel’s deaf, but not deaf enough to not hear you. “What was that?” he calls from up the stairs. 

“Nothing!”

Joel knows it wasn’t nothing, it certainly didn’t sound like nothing. You quickly pull your shorts and panties back on when you hear him stomping down the stairs to investigate. Wracking your brain to think of a lie to tell Joel, you realize you’re fucked, utterly and completely. It would’ve been more appropriate to think of one before now, probably around the time the washer started to make weird noises. Now you’re faced with god knows what consequences. 

Joel greets you with a puzzled and angered expression. “What the hell happened?”

“I d– I don’t know. Just something… Happened, I guess,” you stutter. Subtly, you stuff the used pair of his boxers you were smelling down the back of your shorts to hide the evidence of your even dirtier secret. Joel sees that you’re avoiding eye contact, looking up and away, scratching your head. The silence hangs heavily in the air and Joel sees the guilt on your face and that your shorts are undone for some reason. “You have ten seconds to tell me the truth before this becomes a much worse day for us both.”

“Nothing happened–”

 “Nine, eight…”

You fold instantly. “I sit on it,” you confess, Joel exhales in frustration. “Sit? As in… this is a regular occurrence, you’ve been sittin’ on my washer,” Joel asserts. You nod in confirmation. “Why.”

 “I don’t know,” you shrug, another lie. 

“Well, how much have you been sittin’ on it?” 

“Just like…a lot, I guess.” You look down at your feet, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.  

“Why?” he asks again.

“It…uhh…sort of…” you mumble, picking at your fingernails. 

“Sort of what?”

“Vibrates.”

Joel’s face falls at the admission. “You’re not serious,” he says, but he knows you are. “Oh my god.”

“Stranger things have happened, right?” Your voice wavers as you try to soften the blow with a joke. 

“Unbelievable,” Joel pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “No. Stranger things than you have not happened, sweetheart.” After taking a few deep breaths, he pushes you to the side and reaches for the shelf above the washer for a toolbox. He takes out a putty knife and wriggles the front of the washer off, then drops to his knees to inspect the washer. “Did I not ask you to be careful with it?” It’s a rhetorical question. Joel groans when he sees what’s broken inside of the washer. 

“What is it?”

“Belt’s broken,” he answers. “You’re lucky s’fixable.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well, it’s good you can fix it, right?”

 “Oh, no. You are fixin’ it, my darlin’. You broke it.”

Joel’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re putting his washer back together. “I don’t know how,” you tell him. You’ll make it up to him in any other way than this, but there’s no way he’s serious. Besides, he’s now the first to know that your track record with washers isn’t to be trusted.

 “I’ll walk you through it,” Joel replies plainly. “Get down there. On your knees, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes at him. “Now,” he says, unimpressed with your defiance.

You drop to your knees in front of the washer, looking for the broken belt that Joel speaks of. You find one of the big and fuzzy spiders he was talking about instead. “Jesus!” you yelp, launching backwards and nearly knocking Joel over in the process “There’s a spider, Joel - kill it, kill it, kill it, Joel - kill it, please,” you beg. 

“Oh for Christ’s sake, it’s harmless.”

“Joel!”

Joel nudges you out of the way to find the spider sitting right at the bottom of the washer. He scoops it into his hand, then holds it in front of you, “I thought you said you didn’t mind ‘em,” he taunts. 

“I lied. Get it away from me,” You shove him away from you, and he clutches the spider more carefully in his hands, laughing. 

“Yeah, I know you lied. You’re very bad at it,” Joel opens one of the basement’s egress windows and sends the spider on its way, then closes it and returns to you, first grabbing what looks to be a replacement belt for his washer from a nearby shelf. Leave it to Joel to have the most convenient yet obscure supplies right in his basement twenty years into an apocalypse. “Back to work.” You’re in front of the washer once more, and Joel takes his seat right behind you. “See that black belt at the bottom of the drum?”

“No.”

“This thing here,” he points at it with his finger. “Take it off,” You reach for the belt and tug on it a bit, “Gotta wiggle it a bit,” following his instruction, you wiggle the belt and it falls off the drum. “Attagirl. Now put this one on,” he hands you the new belt and takes the old one from you. “S’gonna be snug.”

You struggle to stretch the rubber over the drum and it snaps your hands when it slips. “Fuck.”

“Keep tryin’. Put some elbow grease into it, hon,” Joel hovers over your shoulder, just as he did earlier in the kitchen. “M’just checkin’ to make sure you got it lined up properly,” Joel tugs on the rubber belt, making sure it’s sitting where it needs to. “So tell me again how long you been doin it for,” he whispers. “Long time?”

You answer cautiously, “Uhhh…a while now, I guess.”

 “Yeah, I figured. S’it feel good?” 

The question throws you off, makes you nervous. But his voice is low and gravelly, and his tone isn’t pointed or accusatory. He seems curious, but for what reason, you’re not quite sure yet. “It does.”

“Better than your fingers?” Joel tightens the belt a bit and leans back. He’s watching you, but you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes. You gasp when you feel his warm palm sliding underneath your shorts. “What the–” Oh, fuck. Joel found his pair of boxers. He holds the fabric in his hands, a knowing grin on his lips. “These are mine. What’re you doin’ with my dirty boxers?” he asks. He doesn’t allow you time to stutter out an excuse. “You’re a dirty lil’ bird, aren’t you?”

“Joel.”

He tosses his pair of boxers onto the dryer and whispers in your ear again, “I asked you somethin’. My washer feel better than your fingers?”

“Yeah,” you answer, “Better.”

Joel hums in amusement. He slides his hand down the front of your pants, still unbuttoned from earlier. “Saved me the trouble, didn’t ya, sweetheart?” he breathes. Your breath hitches when his fingers find your mound, as he toys with the curls there. He traces over your lips, then dips a finger between them, circling your hole, then circles your clit. “Better than mine?” he asks, dipping a finger into your center and you moan.  He holds one hand on your hip as the other pumps in and out of your center, and you lean back into his chest, relaxing with his touch. You sigh deeply. “Don’t get all cozy on me, now. You ain’t done. Gotta put the front of the washer back on, should just click right into place.”

Joel pulls his hand away from you so you can lift the front piece of the washer. “It’s not–” you complain, struggling to click it into place the way Joel says it should. You push and push, but it doesn’t budge. “Joel, it’s not–”

“It will. Just try.” 

“I am,” you argue, shoving it once more but to no avail. You’ve grown frustrated by his washer, by the task Joel bestowed upon you in fixing it, and his teasing, too. In a fit of anger, you stand up and kick it.

 “Hey, easy,” Joel scolds. “Look, like this,” Magically, the front piece of the washer fits right into place, just like he said it would. He does nothing different than what you did, it just works out for him. Of course it does. “You’re impatient, huh?” he murmurs, moving behind you. You gasp when you feel his hands on your hips, tugging the fabric of both your shorts and your panties down to your ankles, he helps you out of the garments and tosses them elsewhere. His hands are on your hips again, this time guiding you, whispering, “Back, back,” as he positions you where he needs you, spreading your legs apart. You’re leaning on his washer and he’s on his knees behind you, using his nose to tease and part your slick folds. He inhales you deeply, taking in the sweet scent of your arousal before he tastes you. He traces your lips with a pointed tongue, up and down, before he dips his tongue into your heat, savoring you. 

“How ‘bout my tongue?” he purrs, whispering against your skin. You don’t answer, and it’s not like you could anyway, with the way he devours you. His arms are wrapped around your legs, his fingertips are digging harshly into your thighs like he means to bruise you, tear the flesh off your bones even. It’s possessive in nature, but not abusive or aggressive. You know his actions aren’t borne of anything except pure pleasure and you indulge in it, in him. He moves slow like honey as he tastes you languidly, kissing you. He laps your velvety heat, his tongue teasing all of your sensitive, slick flesh. Now and then the wiry hairs of his beard will tease and scratch your inner thighs, a sensation that tickles you and rubs you raw all the same. “Oh my god,” you moan, reaching behind yourself to take hold of his head, fingers tangling in his graying curls and waves. “Joel, oh my god.”

Joel takes your lack of a real answer to his question as a no, his washer pales in comparison to his tongue. Good. He bets you’ve fantasized about him, all those times you’ve used his washer for those needs of yours besides washing your clothes. And he bets that you probably grind yourself on it, picturing it’s his warm flesh beneath you and not the cold metal of the machine. He’d be right. He sucks your clit, circling the sensitive bud with his tongue. He nips at your folds, sucking one, then the other between his plump lips, then focuses his attention back at your clit. You’re moaning his name, the only word you know anymore. Joel keeps you still, held tight in his arms so that you can’t push your ass back and grind against his mouth like he knows you’re fighting to do. All you can do is take it, feel his perfect aquiline nose tease between your cheeks. He’s buried himself face first in your most private place as he consumes you voraciously, his tongue flicking and swirling and painting you. You’re biting into your own arm, seeing stars as you come on his tongue. It’s an elusive sort of orgasm, the kind where you don’t exactly know where it begins and it ends. All you know is that you’re sensitive, so fucking sensitive and Joel is relentless. Your knees buckle as he toys with your clit, gives you a break for a moment before he’s right back there again, continuing to eat you. He keeps going and going, repeating the actions over and over again just to make you cry and beg, “Stop - please - I can’t, I can’t, Joel. T-too much.”

“Know it’s too much, sweetheart, s’why I’m doin it,” Joel coos. But he obliges, places one last kiss to your heat, soaked by his spit and your own arousal before he stands up behind you. He wraps one arm around your stomach, pulling himself close to you. You can feel his hard cock against your ass, separated only by his denim as he uses his other hand to turn your face to the side, meeting him beside you. He kisses you, tracing his tongue along the seam of your lips, licking into your mouth. You taste yourself on his tongue, then feel his hand leave your face to reach for his fly. You hear him unzip his jeans slowly, and then he’s pulling his cock out, still kissing you as he lines up with you, first parting your thighs with a gentle nudge of his knee before notching his tip at your entrance. He finally pulls his mouth away from yours and gently forces your chest down toward the washer. He pushes himself into you, careful so as not to hurt you but deliberately so that you still feel that ache, the stretch of his thick cock separating your insides. Joel continues holding your body close to his as he reaches for your hand with his free one, interlacing his fingers in between your own.  “How about my cock, sweetheart? You like it better, worse?” he whispers, kissing, nipping at your ear in between words. He pulls out of you nearly all the way, then pushes back into your dripping cunt. 

You try to answer, “Bet - oh, ahhh,” 

Joel chuckles at the way he’s reduced you to nothing but broken syllables and moans. “Ohhh, listen to you. I think it’s better, huh? S’that what you’re tryin’ to tell me?” You nod frantically. “Yeah, I know, beautiful.”

His pace is slower to start, but it builds in quick time. You can feel he’s fighting with himself to be more gentle than he actually wants to be, his thrusts sloppier than he intends, like he’s losing himself in you. You’re lost in him, lost in the moment all the same. You take it all in, the lewd and obscene sounds of the pleasure he creates with you - his thighs slapping against yours and the gushing of your cunt on his cock. Your moans, your cries, all babbling nonsense. And Joel’s deep breaths in and out, shaky and stuttering as he does it. His grunts and his swearing, a whimper here and there if you listen closely. He fills you up perfectly, hits that sweet spot deep inside you over and over and over…

“You coulda had me like this the whole time,” he pants, “Didn’t have to go an’ break my washer f’ya needed somethin’ more than those fingers of yours, sweetheart. Know you been needin’ some lovin’.”  He reaches for your breasts, squeezing and groping the flesh, twisting your nipples and smirking when you twitch and whine. “All you had to do was ask.” You don’t respond, but he doesn’t expect you to anyway. What he did expect, however, were your moans of displeasure as he pulls out of you. He knows, oh, he knows how empty you must feel, you poor thing.  He’ll soothe that. He flips you around, seats you on his washer. “I’m gonna make you come again,” he promises, “I’m gonna watch.”

 “Too much, Joel, I can’t,” you cry. You want to come again, really. But you don’t think you have it in you, still so worked up, overstimulated by the endless teasing of his tongue on your pussy.

 “Oh, don’t cry. You can do it, hon. You can take it,” he says, “Open up those legs for me, darlin’.” Joel pushes your trembling legs wide so he can slot his hips between them, then wraps your legs around his waist before sliding his cock into you once more. He thrusts just once, rather harshly, before he’s met with another rather loud noise from the washer. Joel halts and scratches the back of his neck. God, he hopes he didn’t just do it in. “Probably shouldn’t…uh…”

“Yeah,” you agree. 

“Did you use my dryer too?”

“Duh,” you answer. “How else would I dry my clothes?”

Joel rolls his eyes, “No, smartass. Were you usin’ it for your dirty work, is what I’m askin’.”

“No.” 

Still inside you, Joel slides you over to his dryer. “Good girl. Poor washer’s been abused plenty by you already.”  

“But I will,” You whisper defiantly under your breath, wrapping your arms around his neck as he adjusts. 

“Wrong ear, sweetheart. My right one’s deaf. I heard that loud and clear.”

Joel’s back to fucking you in an instant. He wastes no time in making good on his promise, thumbing your clit as he rolls his hips into you. “See, look at you. Takin’ me just fine,” he praises.The way you squirm and take your shallow little breaths fills him with satisfaction and delight. He knows this isn’t easy, that you’re tired and sore and overstimulated. He’ll be done with you soon. “Come with me, wanna feel you come with me, sweetheart,” he says. “Focus here, eyes on me. You’re gonna come with me.” 

It’s a few moments of Joel painting your clit with those tight, steadied circles as he fucks you hard and deep. There’s a push and pull to it, where you’re not sure who this is for - yourself or Joel. Just like before, you’re not sure where it starts and stops, but you’re there. God it’s intense, you’re gonna break and you know it. Joel’s got his palm on the back of your neck, squeezing you. His jaw clenches and he’s coming undone first, but he never loses focus on you. His thrusts stutter as he milks himself in you but doesn't yet stop - he’s making sure you’re gonna come. “C’mon baby, c’mon. Give it to me,” he says. “One more for me. Last one.” 

His words are all it takes. You whimper and moan, cry his name as you find your climax. Release washes over you the way waves crash onto sand - it’s repeated, the way the tides push and pull. Deafening. Powerful. 

But there’s a calmness yet. The rolling of his hips slows, slows, stops. He presses his damp forehead against yours, breathing deeply. “You’re okay,” he murmurs. “You’re okay?”

You nod and smile, “Yeah, I’m good.” He smiles with you and helps you off of the dryer. Joel finds your clothes and dresses you in them, steadying your shaky legs. 

Joel tentatively restarts the washer. It chugs a bit, but makes all the right noises and he breathes a sigh of relief. You’re a bit startled when he takes you by the arm and marches you up the stairs. “New rule,” he says, “You stay with me when your clothes are washin’.”

You bite your lip to hide your guilty smirk. “Yes. Joel.” 

“And I still need you to cut them veggies for me, too.” 

I struggled heavily with this fic, comments and reblogs would be much appreciated if you were feeling so inclined🙏 they keep me motivated and I look back at your words when I’m writing to remember that I’m capable of pleasing you all

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller fanfic #joel the last of us #tlou joel #pedro pascal x reader

[eunuchve]

tags: mdni, smut, dragon!morax, MONSTERFUCKING, rut/mating cycles, predator/prey, double dragon cocks, double penetration, CERVIX FUCKING, size kink, mentioning pregnancy, mating, bro has a worship kink, breeding kink hints (he's in a rut dont hold it against him) a.n: (what have i done) this is the first porn with plot I've written and I gotta say; it is damn long.... happy valentines my dears, enjoy! pairings: zhongli x afab!reader

Lord Morax is a god; but he is more than that, he is an adeptus. illuminated beast. this fact needs no introduction, everyone knows. 

so when he took leave to a remote part of liyue somewhere, unknown to even his retainers, no one dared to bat an eye. the rain has fallen heavy, the season has become damp, and the scheduled time is near; Rex Lapis will have his rut.

it didn't take long for people to figure out the reasons for his absence; not when the lord became increasingly unfocused during stately meetings a week prior or when his eyes would turn to slits with a whiff of a woman's perfume for a month’s time.

You, the lone herb picker of a local pharmacy, didn't know any better when you stumbled upon a large hollowed-out cave that wasn't supposed to be there. you are familiar with the terrains, hell, you know it like the back of your hand -- so imagine your surprise when you find a nesting dragon inside, heaving, grunting alone; its horns glowing with a bright amber before its head snapped to your directly, eyes instantly turning to slits.

at first, you stumble backwards, watching as the figure slowly but surely towers over your frame; your neck cranes to meet its molten bronze eyes. it didn't take you long to realise whose privacy you had so ungraciously barged into; your mouth dries and you dropped your basket full of violetgrass, your heart beating out of your chest before your feet finally got some sense and took running to the woods. 

'fuck fuck fuck.'

you are going to die- you are so sure you are going to die. when your feet stumble and trip over branches and air, when you can hear him gliding through the sky; undoubtedly searching for you. The sounds of his scaled body burst through the leaves of the ginkgo trees, or of his deep, rough growls that echo through the forest. With every heavy step you take, you can feel him getting closer and closer. The thrill and fear mix inside of you, your body stirs with blood coursing through you. Weirdly amid the fear you feel-- somehow excitement came into the mix; something about your life being in the mercy of a chase?

Why is he there again? Rut? So will he fuck you or will he kill you? You certainly prefer one to the other. 

Your legs continue to run, even as you trip and fall, or when you stumble upon a rock or two; searching for an exit to a nearby village or open path; but no matter how far you run you can't seem to find the correct way. Your eyes scanned all directions before your body was suddenly pinned down under a sudden force and unmoving weight.

The paws of a creature so large that it covers your entire back, its talons digging into your back. The smell of freshly dug earth and exotic spices violates your nostrils and your heart can't help but thump against your chest just a little faster. You turned your neck, finding the dragon’s face mere inches from yours; his hot breath grazing the exposed skin of your neck. 

“Please don’t kill me.” god your voice sounds so desperate; with a hint of a broken whimper- even you are embarrassed by that fact. but your god didn't seem disturbed, instead he let out a low grunt, before hissing back a reply.

"don't beg."

"...huh?"

"don't." he spat the word, seeming holding something back. "beg."

"b-but--"

he didn't let you finish, picking you up by the scruff of your neck before throwing you to his back. he flew you back somewhere, you didn't care to notice since most of the flight back you are scrambling for something to hold on to; whether it is the golden spines or his actual body.

by the time you both arrive at the entrance of the familiar cave, he has waited for you to get off his back. you inclined, of course, shakily getting a feel of the ground below, catching your breath whilst adrenaline courses through you. once you get a feel yourself, your eyes travel to him, catching his large form walking slowly to the back of the cave.

"you won't kill me?" you find yourself asking; his head then slowly turns to you before, a visible look of confusion etched on it.

"Why would I?" his deep rough voice replies. he is definitely holding something back, the way his lips parted a bit to let steam out of his mouth, the sharp teeth that are visible from them make you gulp the pooling saliva in your mouth.

"Because... cave..."

weak reasoning, you'd have to admit, but if he won't kill you then you'd have to be sure of the other possibility. "then would you fuck me?"

the look on his face deepened before his head hung low, and a soft whisper came to you for a reply. "what makes you think of that?"

"It's your- Rex Lapis it's your time of..."

embarrassed, incredibly embarrassed; that's the feeling you felt, with the heat of blood rushing to your cheek and thumping heart against your chest only enforcing the fact.

"it is time for my rut, yes," he confirmed, his gaze thrown to the floor, avoiding your figure, "but I am not one with lost senses; sleep, it is night, it will be safer to leave in the morning."

you nod weakly, shuffling your way to the walls and plopping down on the dirt before curling up. the heat in your cheeks refuses to prevail as you watch him walk back, his long tail moves with each step he takes, the tuff at the end resembling that of golden clouds.

"My lord why are you moving so far away?" you asked, instantly biting your lip the moment that question escaped your mind, realising how desperate you sounded with that pretence.

"your arousal," he states matter of factly. "you. I can smell it."

you look at him wide-eyed, your face now comparable in its heat to the sun, your lips agape.

"it's safer for you this way," he continues.

"do you not want to?" archons you are greedy aren't you. "your rut- I can.. help..."

"I doubt it." his voice is precise, he says it like it's a fact, not even letting you have a space to express your desire. "they are the size of your thigh and their length..."

"I can try." bold- now you are being too bold. the size of your thigh he said? now you can feel your ears getting heated up from the shame. your thigh now pressed together as you imagine him inside of you; a second pass and your arms no longer placed nicely on your lap, instead instinctively protecting your chest.

his gaze looms over you, his snout now only a hairsbreadth away from your neck; a long deep breath he takes is audible before he groans out a reply.

"Do not test me human," something inside of him is threatening undone, you know it, "I will breed you till your womb is full and your consciousness lost-- if that is not what you desire then stay quiet and sleep; I shall bring you the village in the morning but until then speak not of this."

you gulp, now your lips parted before you crane your neck and place a shaky kiss on his scaled cheek, the heat of his body contrasting the cold of your flesh. "... that is what I desire--"

with that your clothes are torn apart; the valuable silk you spend months of your wage on is gone and your naked skin is exposed. the cold air hardened your nipples and he took notice, his head travelling down, his long forked tongue lapping sweetly onto them, earning your strangle out a moan.

"getting aroused from a chase," he breathes out, almost teasing you; hot breath contrasts that of the cooling saliva on your perked buds, sending vibrations down your spine. "thinking you can take a dragon's cocks, wanting to be the mother of my offsprings -- what bold actions you possessed."

you let out a whine, his tongue now travelling down, ever so subtly closing down to your cunt. you pressed your thighs together; embarrassed, already feeling your arousal seeping out of you before his claws forced them wide open, earning your moan.

"you are pooling my dear," he almost chuckled, his eyes narrowed as he licked his lips, his breath now grazing your quivering folds, unexpected whimper broken out of you.

"please?"

with that word you can feel the air snap hotter, his eyes now meeting yours; his form towering over you before he chuckle, training down kisses, his tongue now making sure you are covered in his scent.

"didn't I tell you not to beg?" his claws hold your thigh open and he took a lap of your cunt, almost smiling at your taste. "do you know why my dear?"

"n-no--"

your moans escape, feeling his tongue entering you, fucking you, stimulating your walls, not letting you escape. you arched your back, biting your lips as another whimper persisted. you feel his hand moving, now pressing his claws to your other hole, expecting you to open up; and you let him, your holes now stuffed full of him before you feel his tongue slip out of you, your whine tells him as much about what you want.

"Because if you beg..." he now moves his hands to your ankles, folding you in half and you watch helplessly, his two golden cocks decorated with geometric lines and veins on either side, one on top of the other- he does not lie, the size of those things are comparable to your thigh, its length will most likely penetrate your womb- "I will answer."

he chuckles subtly, aligning his cocks to both of your holes, its weight now pressing down on you, precum leaks out of them, lubricating you further.

"i am a god, my dear; I always answer."

with that he presses his cock head to your holes, hoping both of them will ease up. you moan his title out, causing him to snap his head to you, making him greedy.

Your little groan and hiss only help you muster up the strength to let loose, feeling your holes easing up before they let his cockheads in, making your chest heave.

he grunts against your neck; and you feel his teeth subtly tracing your shoulder, little nips that satiate his hunger, burying his head in its crook.

"Celestia." the way you feel around the tip of his cock is incomparable; the dragon finds himself clenching down his jaw, controlling his urges to slam you down to its hilt. "you are made for me my dear."

he grabs a hold of your hips, and you feel him sliding you down. you let out a low moan, your back still arched as you feel him inside of you more and more. the burn from the stretch doesn't scare you, even if you feel like you are being split in two- you only know the pleasure that waits for you not so out of reach.

not even halfway and you already feel him brushing against your cervix, your broken moan coupled with the way you rolled your hips almost makes him snap. his other cock too now deep inside of you- almost too deep; you feel the pressure against your throat, feeling his cocks twitch, almost making you jolt, your hand searching from his arm, nails now digging into his scales.

he looks at you, his parted lips letting out steam before his uneven breathing stops to let him speak. "I shall move now."

you look at him, biting your lips and nod firmly, affirming your readiness. you feel him trying to go out of you, your cunt and hole tightening around him, almost hungry before he slams into you, earning your cry of pleasure.

it persists; he goes out of you before he slips inside, messaging your walls before they tightened around him again, hungrily seeking him, your face now fucked out with pleasure, feeling him abuse your holes.

"I'm not even all the way in my dear." he almost smirks, you can see it. before you know it, you suddenly feel him picking you up, your walls being freed from his cocks, suddenly empty and you whine; letting him flip you to your stomach and holding your ass up in the air.

he marvels at the sight, seeing both of your holes gape yet clench down on nothing, it almost made him giddy.

"my beautiful follower," he mused, his claws now digging into your flesh before you feel his cocks lining up with your holes again; embarrassingly you can feel your cunt relaxing, ready to take him in once more. "will you be my mate now darling?"

"yes!" your desperation stays, you want him inside you so bad, "please Rex Lapis please!"

you didn't know what did, but you certainly awaken something in him. he brings you up in the air before slamming you down on his cocks, your walls now taking him fully, your stomach bulging out with his shape. your breath knocks out of you; you can feel him all the way in your womb, your hand can't help but trace the raised flesh, your spine almost shivering from the sensation.

"keep begging."

that sounds like an order; even your now fucked out brain knows that. so like the good follower you are you follow that order.

"Please make me your mate," you choke out, his slow rhythms that know your breath slowly but surely going faster, brushing up against all your pleasure spots, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head. "please please please please I wanna- I want--"

he chuckles, the way you mewl your pleas, the way your warm flesh tightens around him; he can even feel your walls hungrily sucking him in so nicely. in his mind he is thanking Celestia; because fuck, you are a masterpiece.

"a human could die from this," he grunts out, going in and out of you with an inhuman pace, your cunt and hole loosening with his movements. "not you my dear; you are made for me."

you whine from his statement, the bludge he created only drives you to the edge, feeling something inside of you tightening, your nails digging into his scaled flesh, your face supported by his nose. "R-rex Lapis i- my-- i'm--"

"you want to cum my dear?" he almost teases you with the question, his cock brushing, bullying your g spot, making you dig your nails further, your head could only nod desperately at his question. "hold it, you could only cum when I do."

you whine out with his order, and he lets out a subtle groaning with it, chuckling at your reaction. his hand moves down, large talons brushing against your hard clit, teasing the nub; knowing exactly what it will make you do.

you wrapped your arm around his neck, his golden mane brushing against your flesh so softly; and your tug your face on them, muffling out your long moan and desperate cries.

"fuck- please lord mo- morax- r-rex lapis please- i want- i wanna- please please please-"

he kept his word, his face moving and kissing your neck, feeling you move your pelvis to fit him better, your inside hungrily brushing against his shaft. his brow knits, he feels himself almost coming undone.

"now."

with a final thrust, he fills both of your holes with white ropes of cum, you yourself arching your back, feeling your orgasm hits you harder than ever before. he hear your pants before he coils around you, closing gaps between the two of your while still being inside of you, wrapped up by your own warmth.

"i shall make the wedding preparation after the season's over," he breath out; your mind finally able to join the sentence together before you move your head, repeating the most important word again.

"wedding..."

"of course my dear," he kisses you, his snout pressed against your jaw before he tugs his head onto your collar bone. his hand travels to your stomach, rubbing the visible buldge that only grows with his cum, almost making look pregnant.

"the little ones will be coming soon."

#☁️ - unholy confessions #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #zhongli thirst #morax x reader #morax smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader

[planet-dusk]

tw//cnc, coercion

jisungie and coercion in a cnc roleplay scenario has been plaguing my mind for a while... he's all "please, baby? it hurts... i know you want it, too, right? i'll be quick.. promise"

"just the tip, please, baby. i promise. i love you. need you so much. you love me, too, right?"

which he immediately disobeys and slides right in, "why're you so wet, baby? you really wanted this, didn't you?"

"let me cum inside, babe. it belongs in this pussy, doesn't it? you know that."

if u have anything to add i might pass away but no pressure. ily ! i'm glad you're back:)

maesie it's so good to see you,, i hope you're doing well! and leaving such a treat in my inbox? yum <33

🏷️ han jisung x fem!reader. cw ; cnc, free use, breeding, pet names: baby, babe, doll ( 692 w. )

minors dni. for mature audiences only !

jisung gets so desperate when he's needy, and he's just a tad too big for you to not feel the sting without any prep of his fingers; the thought alone makes you wet at the most inconvenient times. so you and jisung came to an agreement: you get to use each other, wherever, whenever. but that doesn't mean it isn't fun to push back a little. feed into his recklessness.

"not now, babe," you manoeuvrer between the spice rack and the stove with jisung clinging to your back. "i'm trying to make dinner here."

"but i need you, baby. i love you. you love me too, right? i need you so bad. please, it hurts," he pleads, bulge pressing thick and heavy against your ass. "just lemme grind against you for a second then, yeah? i'll be quick."

he lifts your skirt and grabs your hips, hungry, fingers making indents in the flesh. his leaking cock slides between your thighs, rubbing against your clothed clit with every rock of his hips.

"that's my girl, so good for me, fuck— i can feel you throbbing trough your panties, baby." he kisses your shoulder, his grip on your hips becoming more insistent. "let me put it in, please? i need to feel your pretty cunt around me. just the tip, okay?"

"sung, the food —"

"dinner can wait," he slides your panties down to your knees and you instinctively push your hips back. the gentle but demanding press of his hand between your shoulder blades lowers you over the kitchen counter. his cock prods at your hole, clumsily in his need, catching on the rim a few times.

the knot in your stomach tightens at the prospect of him entering you raw. it isn't the first time but you know how much the pretense of it riles him up.

"n-no sungie, wait, not without a condom..."

"it's just the tip, baby. i'll pull out, i promise. god, this tiny pussy," jisung groans when your walls give way slowly for the thick head of his cock. you whimper at the burn, caught between the counter and his hips with nowhere to go but take it.

"i know, doll, i know." he soothes you with a kiss to your nape. you gasp when he sinks in deeper, the sting bleeding into a dull throb when he hits that sweet spot nestled between your walls. "'m sorry, shit — this pussy's sucking me right in, baby, i can't help it. want me that bad, huh? you're such a liar."

"'m not," you shake your head, cunt clenching around him at the same time.

"i can feel how wet you are, baby, i know you need this too." his hips slam into yours and he wraps an arm around your chest to lift you up, his long curls tickling your ear. "let me cum inside, babe, it belongs in this pussy, doesn't it? you know that."

his other hand's on your clit now, and you won't last long this way. you're too far gone to give him a proper answer so you shake your head again, stammering a chorus of pleas and moans as your orgasm quickly approaches.

"then why're you creaming on my cock, baby? this tight fucking pussy's begging to be bred," jisung groans, "knows who she belongs to. do you, baby? c'mon, tell me."

he forces his cock as deep as he can and you shudder, holding onto the counter top for dear life as he fucks you towards the peak of oversensitivity.

"y-you," you start to ramble, "it's all yours, sungie-ah, please..."

jisung leaves sloppy kisses all over your neck and shoulder, mumbling filthy words of praise into your skin. "best pussy in the whole freakin' world, gonna fill you up so good, baby, until it's dripping down your legs..."

he cums with a final gasp of your name, then holds you close for a moment. "thank you. i love you," he whispers into your hair, and you squeal in surprise when he spins you around and drops to his knees in front of you.

jisung laughs and presses a kiss to your mound. "dessert first."

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.

#answered #hanjibug #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #tw: cnc #;skz blurbs

[katskitoshi]

A FAVOR FOR A FAVOR," with GENSHIN IMPACT.

synopsis: he helps you with something and it's only fair you pay him back, right? (liyue vers.) (mondstadt vers.)

characters: dom! zhongli, xiao, and baizhu x gn! sub! reader

includes: (nsfw themes) zhongli is kinda mean, big cock zhongli, kissing kink, worship kink, biting, drool kink, cream pie. xiao is whiny and desperate, fingering, whining, praise kink. baizhu is mean, cockwarming, riding, missonary on desk, implied thigh/leg humping.

zhongli, the vago mundo.

it's only expected that you'd owe zhongli something after how much time you've spent in liyue and with him. he's knowledgeable and there is not much he could want from a mortal such as yourself. well, that is until he starts falling back into his more primal urges, and decides its time for you to repay him.

-- "i'm being gentle, okay?" he truly was too kind, especially now as a gently jerked his hips in to sink his cock deeper in your hole. he was even kind enough to take you in his mortal form and stretch you out with his 8-inch human cock rather than his much larger adeptal one.

his tip, hot and heavy inside you, made you squirm and pant under your boyfriend's loving gaze. he kissed your check gently, slowly traveling down to your neck as began to leave love bites in his wake. "m-move, please, zhongli. need you, real bad- ah, fuck !"

your eyes could have popped out your skull when you suddenly felt yourself get stretched impossibly further. zhongli kissed you to distract you from him pushing even deeper inside. he pulsed inside you, leaking precum to lubreacte himself as he kept going. your fingers dig into his back your your legs wrap around his waist.

the kiss was hot, and drool connected your and zhongli's lips and he pulled away. he smiled. he could already see you turning into a devout little worshipper for him. you move your hands from his back to the back of his head to push him in for another kiss. you miss the first few times, but ones your lips meet, your tongue explore each other.

finally, he bottoms out and you moan so sweetly into his mouth. you pull away from his lips, arching your back as your eyes roll to the back of your head. you came almost immediately and he revels in the mess you make of yourself. he does not wait, gently beginning to pound your sweet hole. one of his hands slaps the side of your thigh and squeezes the fat of your ass.

"fuck, barabatos, thank you, thank you!"

barbatos?

you dare call another man's name -- another god's name while he fucks you? how foolish you are, mortal.

you don't even notice the dangerous glint in zhongli's eyes. he grabs the back underside of your knee and pushes your legs so knees reach your ears. your eyes meet his at last and you can tell he's changed a bit. "zh-zhongli?"

you can only respond in a loud, lewd squeal of his name when he pulls out to the tip and thrusts in so deeply you swear he could rearrange your guts. drool escapes your lips and you try to recollect yourself. lewd squelching noises echo through the room as he dips to your neck and leaves hash bites.

"think you can just call another man's-- another god's name when i'm the one fucking you? think again." he growls into your ear and never stops thrusting for a moment, you cum again and pull him closer, silently begging for a kiss.

he does not oblige, allowing you to just lay desperate for him. he removes one of his hands that holds your legs up and positions it on his shoulder. his now free hand is used to push your cheeks together, drool still falling from your lips.

"he, he is not your god anymore. i am. the only name you'll be calling from now on is morax, understand, dear?"

he doesn't bother giving you the chance to respond, just sticking two of his fingers in your mouth for your tongue to play with. you try to speak, but can't simply because zhongli's ungodly pace knocks all the wind out of you.

his cock pulses inside of you, and you can feel yourself coming closer to your next release too. he removes his fingers from your mouth and plays with you, forcing you closer to your climax. and you can only release silent moans as he finally, finally, delivers a final thrust,

his cock, hot, heavy, and leaky inside you bursts, painting your walls and golden white color. you feel full, resting a hand over where zhongli's cum rests, panting heavily at the feeling inside of you.

he doesn't pull out, but slowly starts thrusting again. "zhongli! m'too sensitive! can't take it!"

"dear, call me morax. and we aren't done yet. you've still gotta take all of me, in my adeptal form, so i can truly show you which god you belong too."

xiao, the vigilant yaksha.

xiao has never really wanted much in return for helping people, especially from mortals. what could you give him after all? but upon meeting after saving you one fateful night, all he wants is to make you his.

"f-fuck, y-you're so tight -- e-even around my fingers!" xiao leans into kiss you once more as his fingers continuously hit that soft, sensitive spot inside you. the kiss silences his moans, his body weight is on you with his thighs on either side of your hips. one hand between your legs, and the other cupping your face as your tongues intertwine.

you bucked your hips upwards to meet his hands. the hand that cups your face moves down to push your hips downwards, stopping you from meeting his eager fingers. his lips shush yours as he pulls away from the kiss. you reach your arms around his neck and pull his lips back to yours. "m-more. w-want you inside me, xiao."

"i know. i know, baby. j-just a little longer -- gotta feel you cum from my fingers first." he speeds up, and you can feel your orgasm coming closer. his face is flushed red and he looks just as flustered, if not more, than you. and all from watching you come undone just for him. you were a sight for sore eyes right now and always.

hands digging into his neck, cheeks heated, panting and whining from his touch because you wanted -- no, need him in these moments.

his fingers curls against you in a way you never thought you could feel and your climax arrives. you moan into his mouth as your thighs shake and eyes roll to the back of your head. he swore he could have came in his pants just then as he hears you whine out his name, hands clinging to his body for his support, for him.

his fingers don't stop as he slowly works you through your orgasm, gentle pumping in and out as he whispers praises that make you lose your head. "shh, baby. i know it's a lot, but not too loud. don't want the humans downstairs to hear you, yeah?" the slight movements makes you squirm from the overstimulation youre feeling and your whines get louder, but he doesn't kiss you to silence you.

"fuck, you're so pretty right now, you know that?" he pulls his fingers out, taking in the look of your twitching hole and panting body. "but you're always pretty," he kisses the tip of your nose, "always." pulling down the waistband of his pants and pulling out his throbbing, leaky cock, he rests it on your stomach. his flushed red tip leaks precum over your stomach.

"need you. p-please put it in, xiao." and he complies. his tip lines up with your hole as he slowly and steadily pushes it inwards, he wants to squeeze his eyes shut from the sheer tightness and wetness and pleasure just putting in the tip has given him, but his eyes focus on the way you smile. dazed out, drool running down your lips and you desperately whine out his name.

do you have any idea what you do to him, mortal?

he continues to push himself in, and he can feel your walls tighten around each vein and each inch he pushes in you. he leans in to kiss you once again, his hands cup your cheeks as you sloppily make out.

once he reaches the base, he slowly begins to pump in and out. a steady pace, one that leaves you dizzy as his cock never fails to reach the part of your body that makes you squirm. the kisses get sloppier, you hands hold onto him tighter, all as he keeps a steady pace. deep and slow.

skin slapping accompanies the wet kisses and whines that leave xiao's lips, your hands upwrap from his neck and push at his chest. you need air, and you pant, greedily taking in the air so you and your lover's lips can reunite once again. xiao's eyes squeeze shut as he whines into your mouth again.

he begins to speed up, muttering out a quick apology. xiao was fast and his thrust were apologetically brutal. though unforgiving as he fucked you deeper, faster, harder, -- still caring and sweet as his fingers moved to intertwine with yours. your legs are propped over his shoulders and he gets a better angle to pound you.

moans and whines are exchanged between you two as you kiss, you can feel your orgasm approaching once more and you squeeze his fingers tight. a silent sign that he reciprocates as he throbs inside you, leaking loads of precum inside you.

and you cum, your walls squeezing so tightly he's not even sure how he hasn't dumped his load inside you. he forces his lips from your own in a desperate attempt to warn you.

"f-fuck, baby, i'm gonna cum. l-let me cum inside you, okay? please? i-i need to claim you, make you mines, th-those adeptal sigils aren't enough. need to - fuck! - need to mark y-you as mines, k-kay, baby?"

baizhu, beyond mortality

baizhu is a man who always gives but alas, he still has wants. he still has needs. he helped you out so long ago, and now, its only fair that you repay the favor, correct?

"stay still dear. if you keep moving, there'll be a punishment in store for you." baizhu doesn't even bother to look at you, only focusing on his papers as he gives your thigh a gentle pinch as warning. with your head tucked into the crook of his neck and you arms gently clawing at his back, you felt as if you could cry at any moment.

how couldn't you considering you had your boyfriend's thick, pulsing cock so deep inside of you and it was still? your walls clamped around him, eagerly trying to pull him in deeper, but baizhu stayed still. was this not punishment to him too?

to be so close to you? to feel you? to be balls deep inside you but not move? it was unfair, and you wanted to just grind your hips downwards, back and forth, up and down -- anything to feel him move inside you. his hips did not thrust upwards except once, when he used it as a warning. threatening you to be good or he wouldn't let you feel him at all. that you could just go back to humping his legs like a pathetic dog.

you should be grateful to even be on his cock -- to feel it pulse inside you in all it's hard, thick, pulsating glory. it's certainly an upgrade from grinding pathetically against his thighs and legs. at the thought of your prior punishment, you whined and squeezed your thighs around his hips harder.

you couldn't take it. he was still, not bothering to even look at you or help you at all. he was so mean, so cruel in these moments that you don't even regret what you're going to do. you unwrap your legs from his waist and lift yourself up, slamming yourself down on his cock.

yes, you're legs were sore from not moving for a while, but the look of shock on baizhu's face is enough to push you to keep going. you both moan at the feeling of finally having movement. lube runs down to the base of his cock as you don't falter for a second -- finding a steady rhythm of lifting yourself of and dropping yourself down while grinding to reach that spot that has your vision turning white.

it continues for only a minute, and when baizhu's shock finally wears off -- you were in for a surprise. his hands grasp your waist firmly, and he lifts you up and positions you on his desk. your back on various papers and pens as he looks down at you as if you were scum -- but lovingly.

he finds his own pace, one much faster than what you were going at and way more harsh that you thought he could even do. it was hot, seeing him panting, seething, upset but somehow still tolerating your bratty actions.

you can't even lift your hands to try to hold onto his neck, they scramble and hold onto the shaking, creaking desk baizhu pounds you on. his cock pistols deep inside you, and wet squelching along with the sound of skin slapping fills the room.

biazhu's cock reaches you in ways you can't imagine, especially now as it pounds into you so deeply. you squeal out his name as a particularly deep thrust reaches the most sensitive spot inside you. your vision goes white, and you clamp down on him so hard that all he can do is grit his teeth as a groan escapes him. his cock pulses once, twice, and one final time before long ropes of his white cum paint your insides.

he slowly rides himself through his orgasm before pulling out. a second later, his cum begans to drip out. you feel so full, but so empty as it leaks from you still clenching hole. baizhu pants, feeling content but not yet satisfied.

"b-baizhu-" you aren't allowed to finish your sentence, not when a squeak interrupts you after baizhu slaps your hole still dripping with his cum.

"don't think we're done yet dear. i thought i was letting you go easy with the cock warming, but you're just so ungrateful. so i guess i'll just have to fuck you until you learn your lesson, okay?"

(mondstadt vers.)

i kind of answered these two requests so here to my two lovely anons!

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #zhongli #xiao #baizhu #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #baizhu x reader #zhongli smut #xiao smut #baizhu smut #zhongli x reader smut #xiao x reader smut #baizhu x reader smut

[tojirights]

Honestly think you're one of the best writers for Alastor in this fandom! Your stuff is always brilliant and the characterisation is perfect!

Had the idea last night: Alastor and reader going multiple rounds, and reader still wanting more and being full of energy but Alastor being absolutely out of it and completely shattered, so he uses his tentacles instead, because what kind of gentleman keeps his lady wanting?

Just an excuse to request tentacle sex with everyone's favourite "deer".

a/n: im gonna be so real with you, im not really sure if the tentacles are like, real apendages or if they're part of his shadow soooo i wrote them as the latter. hope it makes sense!! thank you love :') y'all are too nice 🩷

if there was one thing you weren’t expecting to still have in hell, it was your damn hormonal cycle. you didn’t necessarily have a period, but by god, you swore you still ovulated. it felt even worse than before, the primal need threatened to burn a hole through you. you always felt like a bother to alastor during this week of the month, begging and pleading for him to fuck you for hours. but, alastor never turned you away.

today though, you were especially needy. alastor had already made you cum a handful of times and had cum twice himself. he was exhausted. yet, there you were at the edge of his bed, eyes still filled with lust. “my goodess…” alastor chuckles, shaking his head. “i’m not sure i have much left in the tank, darling.” he cups your cheek, watching tears well up in your eyes. “i-i’m sorry-” he shushes you before you can continue. “did i say anything about stopping? i’d never dream of leaving my lady hanging when she needs me.”

“but…” you frown, watching alastor’s smile turn to smirk. “i have a few tricks up my sleeve, my dear. lay back.” your eyes widen as there’s a flash of green light, followed by five tentacle-like appendages sprout from alastor’s back. “w-what?” adrenaline surges through you as well as a mix of excitement and nerves. “you’re gonna… use those?” you gulp, watching the tentacles slither towards you. “why of course!” alastor snickers, seeing your apprehension. “don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours." he coos, watching with hungry yet tired eyes.

the shadow apendages wrap around your thighs, cold to the touch but not unpleasant. as they slowly spread your legs, another slides between them. it's almost embarrassing the way your legs shake with anticipation, the cool tip of the tentacles swiping up your slit. "o-oh, that's..." you sigh in relief when you're suddenly being filled. "how's that darling?" alastor hums, watching as you open wider around him. "that's... oh god alastor..." you pant, every slow thrust of his tentacle-like shadow making your head dizzy.

the foreign feeling of being stretched so wide has you already teetering on the edge. without warning, alastor curls the apendage while picking up pace, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. "gonna-" you mewl, hips arching off the bed with every thrust. "k-keep going please. 'm gonna cum." every whine makes alastor almost wish his cock was back inside of you, knowing just how hard you're clamping down on his shadow.

but the sight of you writhing, gripping the sheets like you're life depended on it was something he's grateful to be seeing from afar. the buildup to your orgasm comes strong, the coil in your stomach snapping from the tension and- "oooh, you really liked that, hm?" alastor's voice is heavy with arousal, pulling you back to reality after cumming. your vision slowly returns, heavy breathing filling your ears. you barely register the soaking mess you've made on the bed. "oh my god. did i..?" your face goes red, embarrasmemt setting in once again. "yes, my sweet. you did, and made quite the mess for us to clean up."

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