#ᥫ᭡. messenger ᭡ angelwing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

2kiran · 6 months ago

Note

HI! HELLO!! 🤍🫶🏻

first of all i really love your writing! the way you write is just amazing! i absolutely love your works and always come back to re-read some of them!! keep writing and don't forget to take care of yourself and drink lots of water!!! 🥺🩷

anyways i wants to request something if it's not too much of a bother askjkasksj

dom!m!nerdy reader and sub!badboy with a whole load of crying from overstimulation, praise k!nk, size diff (tall!reader) and dumbification OOOHHHH IM GONNA GO FERAL 😵‍💫

[also can i be your 🎀 anon?]

THREEKVENT NAVIGATION

2knote. aww, this is so sweet of you. I appreciate it, thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this one. take care of yourself too and get some rest. lmk if you aren’t actually anon angelwing.

Every nerve was set on fire, blood pumping hot in his system as beads of sweat tingled down his forehead to his chest. It doesn’t help with the sudden high temperature of the room, especially not the uncontrollable throbbing in the center of his thighs. “Shhh,” your voice brings him back from his clouded state, grounding him. “won’t you look at that? You’re doing so great, practically sucking me in.”

He whimpers, oh how badly he wanted to punch off the smug way you were holding him up with his knees that threatened to buckle. His head tilted up to look at you, eyebrows knitting together in an attempt to appear threatening. Instead, he seems even more fucked out, tight hole squeezing your length with every push.

“Sh- shut up.” He grits, though tears sprouted and occupied his vision. Fuck, he hated you. The complete opposite of him, a reckless bastard, and you, the smart and adored one.

He hated how he’d perk up when you’d speak, listening to how your voice practically caressed the words you were uttering. Wishing that in lieu of you giving out the correct answer, you’d say his name and and — he’s definitely out of it. “Don’t say things like that, pretty thing,”

That fucking glint in your eye and how you’d scold him if he stepped out of line, he despised that even more. He clenched around you, gripping your cock tightly, silently begging for you to cum inside of him. It was overwhelming, flushed and sweaty skin bumping rhythmically against each other and making his mind hazy with pleasure.

You were supposed to hate him, not treat him as if he was the most valuable thing in the world. “Shit, that’s it.” You groan, rolling your hips into the spasming warmth that warned to milk you for all you were worth. “So good for me, haaah, yeah, take my cock.”

And he was. “Nnnggh–” stop talking is what he’s unable to retort with. Each thought is combining with one another, jumbled nonsense forming in his head and his mouth agape, only to gift pretty little moans and hushed whimpers to your ears.

He can’t stop the tears, bottom lip trembling and he’s clamping down all over again. You’re brushing against that spot which causes his back to arch off the wall, eliciting a breathy groan from him. He’s leaking on his stomach, pre-cum pathetically gathering up and slicking himself with his own fluid.

“It’s okay, let it out. You’re okay, yeah?” You grind your hips, aiming for it and he swears he’s going to kill you when he cums hard from just that. His body trembles, numbed, gasping for air and the only thought echoing is your damn mouth that can’t shut.

“Listen. Ah– look so pretty like this, all for me.” He can barely move a muscle, your thumb smearing his release around the sensitive tip. Briefly, he wonders if you’ll stop.

You don’t.

One of his palms reach out to you, weakly pushing at your arm as he sniffles. You’re rolling — on the brink of pounding — into him, set on getting him brainless beneath you. He can’t say it, can’t tell you to fuck off because you feel too good and he’s still got energy left. The overstimulation has a faint hint of pain pinching him, but he’s too distracted by the way you don’t quit.

You must’ve gotten to him. “Doing such an amazing job for me, sweetheart.”

He sobs, not quite recovering from his orgasm yet. How you’re crowding him sends him reeling, dizzy, and incredibly horny. He grabs the back of your head, tugging on the strands as he yanks you down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. You can make out the salty taste of his tears due to the unrelenting thrusts, his poor body not catching one break, and that has you pushing your tongue inside of his mouth.

When you finally pull away, he whimpers in disappointment. But then, you speak up;

“You can give me one more.” It’s not a request. It’s a demand.

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