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spiderispunk · 2 years

Note

(Because mine is coming up and I’ll need a pick me up about it lol) can I get 🎁 birthday sex with tasm!peter pretty please? Love you! 😘😘

A Cause For Celebration

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x afab!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Smut (18+ only). Food (A cupcake). Fingering. Unprotected Sex. PinV. Light Breathplay. Fluff.

Summary: In which Peter Parker shows up at your front door with a slightly smashed cupcake and a whispered "Happy Birthday" or Birthday Sex with Peter Parker.

A/N: This is for my beloved Jey (@flightlessangelwings). Happy belated birthday! I'm so sorry this fic took so long, but I really hope you like it. Thanks for being patient with me. I love you!

You didn’t want anything for your birthday.

When you first told Peter, he thought he had misheard you.

“Nothing?” He asked, eyebrows creeping up into his hairline.

“Nothing.” You confirmed.

Peter squinted at you, and tilted his head to the side like he couldn’t believe it. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “I just want a quiet night in, with you.”

“Okay.” He shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”

And he’d really tried his best to keep his word, but as he passed a little bakery on the corner, on the way to your place, he couldn’t help but stop.

At first, he hadn’t known how the little hole-in-the-wall had escaped his notice all these months, but then he realized he had more of a habit of swinging to your apartment than using his legs. One tended to miss the little things when swinging three hundred feet in the air at break-neck speed.

The smell caught his attention first. An enticing swirl of warm sugary vanilla-cinnamon-hazelnut and rich chocolatey sweetness that wafted out the front door as a customer exited. He floated into the entrance– literally drifted through the door like a cartoon.

Rows of pastries lined the shelves of the display case. Chocolate eclairs, powdered donuts, flaky, sugar-dusted dough, loaves of pumpkin and gingerbread still steaming as they cooled. But there on the counter, under a glass dome, was a lone cupcake, with swirls of pastel blue and white icing sculpted into tiny flowers. A dusting of silver sugar rested on the top, sparkling in the light.

It was perfect. Peter bought it immediately, pulling a crumpled ten dollar bill from his coat pocket. He dropped the change in the glass tip jar, and was on his way with a promise to return soon.

He figured the cupcake didn’t count in the nothing category, as it was much too small, and probably much too delicious to deny.

Peter carefully cradled the cute little box it came in all the way to your apartment building. Unfortunately it got a bit jostled during his ascent up the six flights of stairs, but that couldn’t be helped. .

Two knocks signal his arrival, and you’re quick to open the door and let him in.

“Hi, Pete.” You step aside to let him into your apartment.

Peter brings in the snowy night with him. You can feel the cold drift off of his body. It makes you shiver, even in your pajama pants and sweatshirt. He smells like ice and smoke. Small white snowflakes dust the messy brown hair that has escaped his blue beanie, and cling to his long lashes. His cheeks are rosy red, having been abused by the icy wind. His chapped lips stretch into a smile that reaches the warmth of his hot chocolate eyes.

“Hey, baby.” He kisses you sweetly, tasting the smile on your lips. “Happy birthday!” He pulls the box from behind his back.

You frown down at the box. “I said no gifts.”

“It’s not a gift.” He opens the box. “It’s a cupcake.” He sways the box under your nose. “I passed a bakery on the way over here, figured you deserved something to celebrate. Look, we don’t need to light a candle or sing happy birthday or anything like that. But everyone should get a cake on their birthday.”

You take the box from him. The frosting is slightly smeared, but you can still make out the shape of the delicate flower that was once there. It’s beautiful. And more importantly, the cupcake looks delicious.

“Thank you, Peter,” you say with a soft smile. “This was really sweet of you.”

Peter’s face lights up. “So…I’m not in trouble for buying it?” He wraps his arm around your waist.

“No. You’re not.”

He wipes his free hand across his forehead. “Phew! I was actually really worried there for a second. You’re hot when you’re mad, but you’re also really scary.”

You pull him forward by his scarf. “C’mon, let’s eat this cupcake before your mouth gets you into trouble.”

Peter nods. “Yeah, that’s probably best.”

He shrugs out of his coat, and pulls the cotton beanie from his head. His hair springs free in a frizzy and comical halo. You try your best not to laugh, but you can’t help the small chuckle that escapes your lips.

“What? Are you laughing at me now, sweetheart?” Peter raises his eyebrows.

You cover your mouth and shake your head.

“No?” He asks, draping his winter gear over the kitchen chair. “Sure sounds like it. What’s so funny?”

“See for yourself.” You point to the mirror hanging by the door, and Peter looks at his reflection.

“Huh.” He brushes his fingers through his hair with a grin. “Yeah, I’ll admit that’s pretty funny.” Peter turns back to you and rubs his hands together. “Shall we begin the festivities?”

Thirty minutes later you’re sitting on the sofa watching Empire Strikes Back for what has to be the 500th time, or at least enough times for you and Peter to have memorized every other line. You’re giggling at Peter’s terrible impression of Chewbacca that sounds more like a nauseated cat than the Wookie himself, and Peter is looking at you like you hung the very stars in that galaxy far, far away.

The cupcake box sits empty on the coffee table, only the wrinkled paper and crumbs are left of it. It really was delicious. The blue icing sweet, but not overly so, the cake fluffy with a hint of nutmeg. You were reluctant to ruin those pretty flowers, but in the end, you and Peter split the cupcake in two and chowed down.

Now, you lick the remnants of the sticky icing off of your fingertips. Peter’s eyes meet yours, and his lips part into a blue-stained grin.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers, eyes shining in the light of the television.

“Thanks,” you say. “And thank you for the cupcake. It was delicious.”

His smile grows, albeit a little bashfully. “Anything for you.” Peter drags you closer to him by your legs. “I’m glad you liked it.” He leans towards you, his hands cupping your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours softly.

His fingers gently trace the length of your jaw, and tangle in your hair, teasing the curls at the nape of your neck. Normally, you hate when people touch your hair, but Peter is always gentle, and the light tugging of your hair elicits a quiet groan from your lips. Peter swallows it greedily, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

You can still taste the faintest hint of the blue buttercream when his tongue sweeps into the seam of your lips. From the way he moans as his tongue meets yours, you think he tastes it too.

Peter hooks his fingers into the front of your pajama pants, and pulls you into his lap. You settle above him, legs splayed around his waist. His hands easily find the hem of your sweatshirt, and it’s not long before they’re slipping under the fabric to touch the skin beneath.

You surge towards him, hips meeting his in a slow roll, as his hands follow the trail of your spine. Up, up, up, they go, and then around. Cupping your breasts and feeling their weight. Slender fingers and calloused tips. He teases your nipples, pinching and pulling lightly. Working you up with just the slightest touch. It sends a shudder through your body, and a small cry of his name into the air.

Two can play at that game. You think, tugging at the blue corded sweater he wears. You pull it over his head and toss it somewhere behind you where it falls with a muted thud.

His skin now bare beneath you, you carve a new path across the planes of his body. First over his jaw, then down his throat – you don’t miss the hitch in his breath when your fingers brush over his pulse point. They then sweep across his collarbones, down the lean muscles of his scarred chest, and further down still, following the smattering of hair that disappears into the waistband of his jeans. He shudders and sighs under your touch, jumping slightly to meet your fingers.

Peter watches your exploration with hungry eyes. You can feel the ridge of his erection straining against the denim. You rock against it, your own eyes fluttering shut at the sweet pressure. Peter lets out a huff of your name, teeth digging into the skin of his bottom lip.

Your shirt comes off next, giving Peter unfettered access to your chest. He plants kisses that are somehow sloppy and sweet over the peaks of your breasts. When his lips wrap around your nipple you let out a reedy moan.

“That’s it.” Peter mumbles, spit slicked against your peaked nipple. “Let me hear you.”

You tilt your head back. “Peter.”

He hums. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” His eyes are glued to your face, taking in your every movement. His molten gaze burns a hole into your skin. “Sound so pretty.”

“I want you,” you whisper, fingers fumbling to undo the silver button of his jeans.

“Want you too, baby.” Peter’s lips let your nipple go with a pop. “Gotta make sure you’re ready for me first.” And with that, he’s worming his hand down the front of your pants. “Shit,” he groans, playing with the wetness gathered on your underwear. “You’re soaking, honey.”

And really, who’s fault is that?

Slender fingers hook your panties to the side and slide against your folds. Your knees nearly give out when his thumb circles your clit. You yank Peter’s lips back to yours to muffle the moans growing in the back of your throat.

Peter slides a finger into you with no resistance, and mutters a curse under his breath. You’re so warm and wet around him, squeezing him in a way that makes his desire to be inside you flame even brighter. It’s not long before a second finger fills you, stretching deliciously as they scissor and curl within you. A poor substitute for the real thing, which still presses against your ass.

You rock your hips hungrily, grinding down onto his open palm. The friction sets off bursts of light behind your eyelids, like fireworks on New Year’s Eve. A curl of fire licks at your curled toes, arcs like lightning up your spine and settles deep in your stomach. If Peter kept going, he’d stoke the flame into a wildfire. Have you falling apart with a choked wail. But that’s not what you wanted.

“Peter,” you manage to grind out. “Don’t want to come yet. Wanna save it for you.”

You feel his answering grin against your cheek. “That what you want?” Though he acknowledges your request, his fingers still move, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Yes,” you whine, fighting the losing battle to keep your hips still. Because even though you want to wait until you’re riding his cock, you’re dangling over the edge, and still want so badly to come. “Want to ride you.”

Peter’s fingers stop, still buried inside of your cunt. “Well, it is your birthday.” He pulls your pants down to your knees. “So I guess you’ll get what you want.”

Birthday or not, with Peter you always get what you want. He never passes up an opportunity to spoil you rotten. You are his, after all– my baby, my love– something he’ll remind you of repeatedly in a few moments.

You fumble out of the remainder of your clothes, and Peter hastily yanks off his jeans and boxers in one fell swoop. He also grabs the blanket from off the back of the couch.

“Can’t have you gettin’ cold,” he mumbles, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders.

You falter for a moment, somehow still shocked at how caring he is. He pulls you out of your thoughts with a kiss to the underside of your jaw.

“Ready for me?” Peter whispers.

You nod, wrapping your fingers around his aching cock. You rub your thumb over the head, wrist flicking slowly. Peter groans, head tilting back to the light of the room. You want to keep going, keep stroking, until you feel the warmth of Peter’s release on your hand. Want to hear the choked moan of your name as you took him to that highest peak–

As if hearing your thoughts, he grabs your wrist. “Thought you wanted to ride me, honey?” He raises his eyebrows.

“I do,” you reply coyly.

Peter’s hands slide to your hips, and he pulls you towards him, until you’re hovering just above him. “What are you waiting for?”

You stroke him again, just to watch the stern look be replaced by one of wanting.

Peter groans. “Need to be inside you,” he mumbles, voice cracking with lust. “Please, honey.”

That’s what you were waiting for.

You sink down onto him slowly, a moan of reverence sliding from your lips, and one that Peter echoes loudly.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Peter’s dropped his head into your collarbone, so his words are muffled by your heaving breasts. “Feel so fucking perfect wrapped around me.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, using the broad surface to steady yourself. You feel so full and so close to him. It’s as if, in this moment, he’s the only other person in the world, and it’s just you and Peter in your small apartment, and nothing else matters but the slow rock of your hips and his body pressed to yours.

You can’t even hear the movie playing in the background, or the sound of traffic right outside your window. All you hear is the raggedy inhale-exhale of Peter’s breath, and your own stilted breaths in return.

Peter’s grip on your hips tighten. “Fuck me,” he groans, something desperate twisting in his voice. “Faster.”

You comply, hips speeding up until they almost match the thudding of your heart in your chest.

“That’s it, baby– shit,” Peter says. “Take what you want. Always fuck me so good.” He tilts his head back against the sofa cushions, jaw going slacked, and looking at you with glazed eyes. His fingers find that hallowed place between your sweaty bodies, and rub insistently at your clit.

You bite your bottom lip, head going dizzy from his praise and the sweet sensation of your own orgasm building up inside of you. There’s the whispered flame curling up inside of you again, licking over your body. You raise up onto your knees, changing the angle in search of that one blissful spot deep inside of you that only Peter seems to be able to reach. You almost wail when you find it.

Your hand slides up Peter’s body, coming to rest on his chest as the roll of your hips begins to lose their steady rhythm. He grabs your hand, a flash of wanton mischief in his gaze, and rests it on the bottom of his throat. You quirk an eyebrow, and he nods, something desperate and unspoken in his gaze.

Peter nearly comes on the spot when you fit your thumb into the hollow of his throat. His pulse thuds under your touch wildly. He bucks his hips up against yours, the dam of his self-control breaking. He holds your hand in place, urging you to squeeze tighter, which you do.

The two of you chase your pleasure together with sloppy thrusts and broken moans. You can almost taste it on the back of your tongue, hot and molten like lead. This all-encompassing, enrapturing desire. Judging from the expression of complete bliss on Peter’s face, you know he’s nearly there as well.

He tells you as much with a cracked whisper of your name. “Please tell me you’re close, cuz I’m gonna come.”

You nod, because it’s all that you’re able to do. So lost in all of it. And then without warning, it builds and overtakes you. You fall against Peter’s chest, a silent cry of his name on your lips.

It’s the end for him too. Though he doesn’t go quietly. Peter explodes inside of you with a strangled groan of your name, and several breathy moans. Warmth floods your body, and you tighten your knees around him, holding him against you like a vice.

“Goddammit.” Peter grits his teeth, as he fucks you through both of your orgasms.

It takes a while for his hips to still and for your breathing to return to normal. All your senses seem to come back at once. Suddenly you can hear the traffic and the movie playing behind you. Smell the sweat that lingers in the air. Feel the stifling heat of the blanket around your shoulders. You let it fall into a heap on the floor, content with the warmth of Peter’s body pressed against yours.

His hands roam your body, more gentle in their approach now. He traces random patterns on the expanse of your back and thighs. Presses tender kisses to your forehead, and holds you tightly against his chest.

“Happy birthday,” he finally mumbles, lips sweeping against your skin.

“Oh yeah.” You grin. “Nearly forgot.”

“That good huh?” Peter gives you a lopsided smirk.

You return it. “Always.”

Peter hums. His eyes fix on the empty pastry box. Suddenly it dawns on him that you’ve had dessert before dinner. He casts a wary look at the clock hanging on the wall. It reads 7:34.

“Did you wanna order food? Or go out for dinner? Or…” He trails off.

You bury your face into his chest. “Later. Just wanna be with you for now.”

In the end, you didn’t go out. Just ordered takeout and cuddled on the couch. It may have been a quiet night in, watching a movie you’d seen a thousand times, but it was perfect to you.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #andrew garfield #the amazing spider man #drabbles #rion writes

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depressedhouseplant · 8 months

Text

🔞 The Lies We Tell Ourselves (JiGyu) 🔞

Tags: Unprotected sex, friends with benefits but make it toxic

A/N: Bonus content can be found here & here

Jihoon grunted when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He was in that blissful state right before sleep when it went off.

🍆💦: WYD?

Of course it was him. No one else would be texting him at 1am on a Thursday.

🍚: Trying to sleep. You can come over though

Jihoon watched as the typing bubbles flashed on the screen.

🍆💦: See you in 10 😘

He lived over half an hour away. That meant he was already on his way because he knew Jihoon would say yes. Jihoon always said yes. He sighed and got out of bed.

“Hey babe,” Mingyu kissed Jihoon when he got in the door. He tasted like cheap liquor and cigarettes.

“Hey,” Jihoon kissed him back.

“Did I really wake you up?” he asked.

“No,” it was the truth, Jihoon told himself.

“Good. I might have felt guilty otherwise,” Mingyu picked him up and Jihoon instinctively wrapped his legs around the other man’s hips.

“I doubt that,” Jihoon replied.

“Mmm, you’re right,” Mingyu hummed against Jihoon’s neck. Jihoon dipped his head back to give Mingyu better access. The other man nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin as he carefully rested Jihoon on the bed. Jihoon propped himself up on his elbows and watched Mingyu strip down to his underwear. The tip of Mingyu’s cock was peeking out from the waistband, already red and leaking. Jihoon let his legs fall open as Mingyu crawled on top of him. His body completely engulfed Jihoon’s smaller one. The almost 8 inch height difference meant everything about Mingyu could completely cover Jihoon. It was part of the appeal, Mingyu claimed.

“Missed you,” Mingyu said against Jihoon’s mouth.

“Me too,”

That’s when Jihoon’s logical brain officially shut off. He wrapped his arms around Mingyu's neck and kissed him harder, bucking his hips up into the other man’s torso.

“Can’t wait to get my cock into your tight little hole,” Mingyu panted, trying to pull off his underwear with one hand.

“Can’t wait for you to stuff me full,” Jihoon replied, reaching down to help Mingyu out of his underwear. The taller man leaned across the bed and pulled the lube out of the nightstand drawer. He dropped it next to Jihoon’s head as he pulled Jihoon’s underwear off. Mingyu moved his lips down Jihoon’s chest, stopping to lick and suck at his nipples.

“Fuck,” Jihoon gasped, his hips involuntarily jerking upwards. He felt Mingyu smile against his chest and go back to teasing the sensitive buds. Jihoon knotted his fingers in the other man’s hair. He tugged when Mingyu bit one of his nipples.

“Feeling a little rough?” Mingyu teased, propping his head on Jihoon’s chest.

“Maybe I want you to throw me around a little,” Jihoon smirked.

“That I can do,” Mingyu sat up and lubed up his fingers. He began to open Jihoon up, making sure to keep one of his hips pinned to the bed. “How do you want it? Over the kitchen counter like last time?”

“Against the wall,” Jihoon breathed. A devilish smile curled on Mingyu’s lips.

“Want to give me a little workout tonight? Hold you up while I fuck you?” he grinned.

“We both know it’s hardly a workout for you,” Jihoon replied. Mingyu purposely grazed Jihoon’s prostate with one of his long fingers.

“Are you saying I’m big or you’re small?” he asked as Jihoon jerked under his hand.

“Both,” Jihoon panted.

“Alright then. I’ll fuck you against the wall just to show off that I can hold you the entire time I fuck you,” Mingyu withdrew his fingers and got off the bed, watching Jihoon the entire time. He made a show of lubing up his cock.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready,” Jihoon nodded. Mingyu bent over and pushed into Jihoon. It was the same feeling every time. Pain, then feeling full. So fucking full. Mingyu scooped him up and then pressed them against the wall. Jihoon held onto Mingyu’s shoulders as the other man got a solid grip on his ass. Jihoon joined their lips as Mingyu started fucking up into him. It didn’t take long before Jihoon’s body gave in and he was fully seated on the other man’s cock.

“Taking me so well. Always take me so well,” Mingyu huffed.

“Made for you,” Jihoon replied, kissing Mingyu’s jaw. Mingyu tilted his chin up, inviting Jihoon to mark him. Jihoon began sucking a hickey on the front of Mingyu’s throat. It would be a pain in the ass to cover and Jihoon knew that. He liked that. Jihoon felt Mingyu’s fingers dig harder into his ass.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to finish already?” Jihoon picked his head up.

“You know I have a very firm ‘you first’ policy. Just getting a little sweaty,” Mingyu reminded him. They were sweaty and Mingyu did always make sure that Jihoon finished first.

“Just making sure this isn’t too much for you,” Jihoon nipped at Mingyu.

“Never,” he grinned, took a deep breath, and began fucking even harder into Jihoon. Jihoon had to lock his arms over Mingyu’s unnecessarily broad shoulders to keep from being flung around. Mingyu adjusted the angle of Jihoon’s hips and grazed his prostate with every thrust.

“Holy fuck,” Jihoon gasped.

“Don’t worry baby, you’ll see God when I’m done with you,” Mingyu kissed him again. Jihoon felt the heat start to pool in his lower belly. Mingyu was hitting every sensitive spot he had with every stroke. He knew it too when he finally looked Jihoon in the eyes.

“Come on, baby. Don’t hold back,” he said. One more well timed stroke and Jihoon was coming between their bodies. Hot streaks of white painted their torsos as Mingyu fucked Jihoon all the way through his orgasm. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. Jihoon ran his hand through Mingyu’s sweaty hair.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he grinned.

“Thank you for the invitation,” Mingyu grinned back. He began his thrusts again. Jihoon could feel Mingyu start to twitch inside him. Jihoon gave him a quick squeeze and that tipped Mingyu over the edge. He bucked into Jihoon, spilling everything he had into the smaller man’s body. When he finished, Mingyu’s come sat warm and sticky inside him. Jihoon let his head hit the wall with a soft thump as the feeling seeped through his body.

“You okay?” Mingyu asked.

“Fine,” Jihoon smiled a little.

“Good. Can’t have my favorite little fuck buddy giving himself a concussion,” Mingyu smiled back. He walked them back over to the bed and pulled out. “Time to clean up.”

Mingyu went into the bathroom and wet a washcloth. Jihoon tried to ignore the unpleasant sensation of come leaking out of his ass. Mingyu wiped them both down then crawled in bed behind Jihoon, pulling him close and resting his arm across Jihoon’s chest.

“Good?” he asked into Jihoon’s hair.

“Always,” Jihoon replied. The truth, he reminded himself.

“Good. Should I let you go to sleep now?” Mingyu teased.

“Some of us do have jobs,” Jihoon snarked.

“Oh hush,” Mingyu kissed the back of Jihoon’s head. “Go to sleep then.”

“Good night, Mingyu,” Jihoon pulled the larger man’s arm tighter against his chest.

“Good night, Jihoon,” Mingyu yawned.

Jihoon knew he’d wake up to a cold spot next to him and an apologetic text. He always did.

#minors dni #seventeen hard hours #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen au #woozi x mingyu #jigyu #just fucking write 2k24 #bonus content

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midnight-vixn · 2 years

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Ok I know I already sent smth in but I'm so needy and I can't stop thinking about kneeling in front of Lucifer whole he's sitting down, opening my mouth with his thumb to press down on my tongue and tell me to hump his leg and try to get off on it if I'm so desperate. Just drooling, moaning and blushing so hard from embarrassment and trying so hard to get pleasure from rutting against his leg, hands on his knee if he allows me and if I do a good enough job at entertaining him, he throws me on his bed or office desk depending on where we are and fucks me until I can't think anymore-

Lucifer making you beg— I gotta lay down for a minute😵‍💫 this was in my drafts for so long because I just loved looking at it but I’ll stop being greedy. Thank you Oji for feeding me good food😘

gn!reader x Lucifer

The first born always seems to be busy and you do your best to wait patiently so he can focus, but sometimes you just can’t wait. Today is one of those days.

You’re the only person allowed in his office while he does paper work, a privilege you don’t take for granted and which you’re incredibly grateful for on days that you feel like this. You sit yourself between his legs and run a hand up the back of his calf, looking up at him with an innocent smile even though your intentions are anything but.

Lucifer knows exactly what you want but being the sadist he is, he loves to make you work for it. He’ll reach down to caress your cheek and smirk as you press your face into his hand, he runs his thumb across your bottom lip while he speaks. “What’s wrong my love? Do you need my help with something?”

You whine as you nuzzle into his hand more, wiggling in your spot between his thick thighs. He only chuckles in response, forcing your mouth open with his thumb and pressing on your tongue as you let out a needy moan. “Then show me how bad you want it.”

Never one to disobey an order from him, you do as you’re told and start to rut against his leg, whimpering at the slight friction you receive. You look down in embarrassed but Lucifer grabs your face and forces you to look back up, a wicked grin on his face as he looks down on you.

“Keep your eyes on me darling, you know the rules.” You quicken your pace, desperately trying to fuck yourself on his leg like the slut he wants you to be, moaning and whining his name as you feel your body heat up. Part of you feels ashamed for acting like this but the other part is feeding off of how aroused the demon above you is, a nice sized bulge in his pants and his eyes half lidded as he watches you continue to hump his leg, his hand resting on your cheek and his thumb running across your lips occasionally.

Your cheeks burn from both arousal and embarrassment but the heat between your legs burns hotter, you slip and hand down between your thighs to play with yourself causing Lucifer to scoff at you.

“Is my leg not good enough for anymore?” His tone condescending but the flush on his cheeks tells a different story. You shake your head in disagreement, mind fuzzy from how incredibly horny you are but you manage to form words finally. “Need…more, need you…in me” you moan out.

Lucifer is more than ready to assist you, picking you up and pressing you face down against his desk, all but ripping your bottoms off to look at how soaked your underwear are. He teases you for being so turned on before you slides those off as well, he teases your leaking sex before rubbing his swollen tip against your hole. Whispering in your ear how he’ll make sure you’re completely satisfied before he lets you leave.

The next two hours are spent with you moaning and crying out Lucifer’s name, the massive wood desk creaking beneath you with each harsh thrust he gives, his own grunts and moans echoing off the walls of the office. His hand finds its way to his pact mark on your body, he traces the pattern and growls in your ear. “You’re mine, you know that? You better not go to the others for help like this understand?”

You can only moan in response as you do your best to shake your head yes but his pace is relentless and makes your whole body bounce, your eyes roll back as his tip grazes your sweet spot over and over, drool covering the papers under your face, you’ve had at least three orgasms by now but Lucifer shows no signs of stopping soon. You love your private time in his office.

#obey me smut #midnight thirsts #obey me #obey me lucifer smut #obey me lucifer x reader #good lord this one makes me feel 😵‍💫

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chibi-tsukiko · 3 months

Note

How do you write and draw so well?

Do you have any tips for both?

I am a beginner artist and I am considering starting to write

Thank you for your kindness, you are always so lovely!

Akdjdjskjd first, dear anon you flatter me 🙈🙈

Second, I think as creators, we’re constantly learning which makes us all “beginners” really 😘

Now, as for tips, my biggest one is to:

Just do it.

As cliché as it sounds, I feel it’s the best one. Just dive straight into it - write that story or draw that pic. And if you find that you enjoy it, keep doing it - even on the days you feel less than spectacular. 🩵

Some other tips:

There’s a lot of content and creators out there so it’s easy to fall down the rabbit hole of comparison, but try your best to focus on the joy you get from creating. Because at the end of the day, that’s the most important thing. (Also self-indulgent content pieces are the best ones 😆)

Experiment! I’m constantly downloading different brushes to Procreate (since I’m a digital artist) and watching tutorials from artist I enjoy and messing around with styles. Doesn’t always turn out the best and I tend to stick to my style, but it’s fun to dip into something new.

Writing is the same way. Experiment with different POVs, platforms, genres, etc. There are many ways to go about writing say a novel, so don’t be afraid to play around with different methods (outlining, sticky notes, etc) to find what works best for you!

Something I like to do when I want to expand my details/ descriptions or even to just get the juices flowing is “Show don’t Tell.” Pick an emotion and write a short excerpt/ scene that portrays that emotion without actually saying what the emotion is.

I also write script-style sometimes when doing dialogue for a scene, as if I’m writing a play. It helps me focus more on the conversation exchange. Then I can go in and flush out the details and descriptions for the scene afterwards.

My last tip that I’ll give you so I stop rambling forever is share your work.

It doesn’t have to be right away, and it doesn’t have to be every single thing you create. It can be done privately between you and a close friend, or publicly on some sort of media platform, but sharing your creations -while nerve wracking at times-can be so fulfilling when you find others that share your interests and appreciate the work and passion you put into your projects.

It can also be a great way to get feedback, if that’s something you’re looking for/ ask for.

ANYWAY! I hope this was helpful! I’d love to see your creations if you ever feel like sharing them!

Have an amazing day my sweet Anon! And Happy creating!! ✨🩷

#this got soooooo long hahaha my bad 🙈#i’m so excited for you anon!#emsaskbox #sweet anons

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caught-in-the-filter · 2 years

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Blindfold + knife play (+ wax play if you want)

😘

I see you anon. Are you looking for totally smutty and not at all whumpy ideas? 😏😘

They’re blindfolded, yes, but are they restrained? Do they have no choice but to stay still as you play with them, or do they have an order to be a good pet and the trust that they’ll help you to not hurt them?

It’s probably more fun with the latter. Of course they can’t help but squirm as you drag the blade all over their skin with just enough pressure to be dangerous if they can’t behave, but they try their best to listen for both your sakes. They can’t see where you’re heading with it, or where you’re going to place it next when you pull it away and smile at their gorgeously helpless figure.

Their small gasps and pleas are delicious as you tease their nipples with the sharp tip before touching it to their clit or their cock. But you only give them that for a moment before it’s back at their side or tracing their navel. Their breathing hitches as their muscles twitch beneath it and you nick their skin. Bad pet, stay still. I know you’re eager. I know this makes you wet/hard.

You flip the knife in your hand as you contemplate what to give them next. I know you just want to be used, don’t you? They wince as you nudge their hole with the handle, and oh god you just have to test how far you can push before they beg you to take it out. Do you think you deserve to be fucked? Slowly, slowly you try, and that’s when they finally move, deliberately scrambling up the bed. Nono, pet, don’t run from me. You wrap your arm around their thigh and yank them back down to you. Frustrated, you’re less gentle now as you test their limits.

Do you need a break? You ask when their whimpers start to get to you. You don’t want to hurt them, after all, only to give them what they want, what they need. They nod vigorously, so you relieve them of the knife for now and retrieve a new toy to play with.

They hiss as hot wax drips onto their skin. It’s okay if they jump this time. They can’t avoid it and can’t get themselves hurt. Shh, it’s okay, I’m making a pretty picture with your favorite colors. If you’re good, I’ll let you see. The cool hues of the candles contrast against their burning red skin, and it’s beautiful.

You only stop when you hear a certain sound and know they’re about ready to cry if you take it any further. But they know the word they could have used if they needed you to end it sooner, so you don’t change your tone much. There, all finished. I know, pet. Let me show you how pretty you are.

You lower the blindfold so it hangs around their neck and cradle their face as you make them stare down at your handiwork. See how good you can be for me? Letting me make you my canvas? You kiss their forehead, the first genuinely gentle touch you’ve given them all night. I wish we could keep it there, but you know we can’t. They look at you, wide-eyed and quietly pleading, as you pull out the knife again. I have to clean you up now. Stay still for me, okay? They whine as you use the sharp edge to scrape the cooled wax from every inch of their skin.

When you’re done, you see a few minor cuts as expected, but nothing you can’t attend to yourself. You kiss each one, and they thank you through their tears. Pulling them into your arms, you hold them and kiss them and praise them for being such a good pet for you, and tell them how excited you are to do this again and again for them.

#kayla answers #anon #anonymous #blindfolded #knifeplay #knife play #wax play

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submissivekillers · 4 years

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Hewwo UwU can I request Brahms and Michael Myers with a dom male s/o??????? 😘😘😘

rz!mikey in this one cause i was in The Mood 😘

Pressed close, your chest against his back, you can feel Brahms tremble.

He pants, hips shifting minutely against your lap, and you tighten your grip around his waist in response, forcing him to still as you keep him impaled on your cock. He flings his head back against your shoulder, pressing desperate, scattered kisses across your cheek until you turn and grant him access to your mouth. He moans shamelessly into your kiss, stuttering when you bite his kiss-swollen lip, and out of the corner of your eye you see his cock jolt. You haven’t laid a finger on him other than to keep him still when he writhes too much in your lap, but he’s already drooling a steady stream of precum, tender skin flushed an angry red that’s almost purple at the tip.

Brahms whines when you pull away, wiggling and trying to chase your mouth. You stand firm, squeezing his sides in warning and nodding towards the book in his hand, the pages slightly wrinkled from the force of his grip. “Finish the chapter, sweetheart.”

“Please,” he pants, “pleasepleaseplease -”

You kiss him again, sweetly, swallowing his whimper. He reaches back blindly, curling his fingers into your hair and tugging hard enough to make you hiss.

You catch his jaw in your hand, force his teary eyes to meet yours. “Only a few more lines and we’ll be done for the day. And then I’ll let you move, alright?” You cant your hips forward, just slightly, and Brahms sobs.

“‘Anyway, it’s easiest going to the other world…’” you start.

“‘I-if one knows what is there. Besides…’” Brahms continues, stuttering and shaking, and you kiss his throat, and you wait.

It’s rare that Michael lets you see him like this: head buried in his arms so all you can see is that mop of blond hair, the long line of his muscular back arched deliciously. It’s a drool-worthy sight and you can’t help staring, trying to imprint every detail in your mind: the scattering of pale freckles across his shoulders, the way his tense muscles jump when you trail your nails lightly over the curve of his spine, the baleful little grunt he makes when you run lubed fingers around the rim of his hole, not quite dipping inside.

It’s a vulnerable position, and you’re aware that you’re the only person who gets the privilege of seeing it… but you can’t help the urge to have a little fun.

“You’re more eager than usual, Mikey,” you say, applying slightly more pressure with the tip of a finger. Michael rocks backwards, but you pull away before he can get any stimulation, lips twitching when he lets loose a frustrated growl. One blue eye finds yours through a curtain of hair, eyes that have seen so many lives snuffed out now glazed over with lust. “Were you thinking about me when I was gone?” You squeeze harder at the soft flesh of his ass, spreading him open; Michael shivers, massive frame shaking the bed. “Did you fuck yourself for me?”

There’s a moment of stillness, and you start to think you’ve crossed a line - that you’re the one who’s going to end the night face-down, ass-up, and stuffed with Michael’s cum - and then he nods, a little shyly.

You grin. “Good boy.”

He groans when you pop the cap for another coat of lube, breathing slow and deep in anticipation. He’s tight, but opens for you beautifully; you slide in one finger, then two in a steady push, halting when you’re hilted knuckle-deep.

“Show me.”

#brahms heelshire x reader #michael myers x reader #slasher imagines #slasher x reader #nsft #*finger guns*

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