#real cowboy type
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I know I'm still super late finishing the muse au stuff for valentines day
So have a peak at Cherub AU Bonnie in the meantime
And yes i will be taking questions
#fnaf cherub au#cherub au#cherub bonnie#my art#fnaf sb#fnaf security breach#fanart#fnaf glamrock Bonnie#glamrock bonnie#fnaf Bonnie#he has a thick southern drawl#real cowboy type#loves his human so much#i may redesign his outfit#but face wise that's him
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missed them so bad my heart hurt so i slapped these together at the gym
#i miss them ☹️#these r kinda ass but it’s ok i had fun and ive had this idea for a while now so im happy that i got around to making anything at all :]#save me javieran … save me …….#i made a pinterest board for them just to kinda help me with vibes and ideas and that helped these be a lot less stressful as a byproduct so#that’s a happy coincidence :]#ohh i miss them i wish i had the time to draw them tonight/tomorrow but i go into work early waaaahggg#maybe sunday …. or tomorrow night ……. or something …… soon …. hopefully …#my heart hurts without them ….#to me they are a warm sun on your skin and happy dancing leaves above your head and a calm lake lapping at your boot tips#they are so sweet and in love </3#i have to admit that i am 100% the type of person to ignore canon completely and just make them purely domestic#if that wasn’t obvious already#i can write angst well but i don’t enjoy it </3 i love warmth and domestic joy#i am constantly thinking about late stage clemens point javieran where they are head over boots for each other and sneaking off constantly#and just finding so much joy and comfort in each other and the love they’ve finally found that feels just like their own ☹️#my cowboy lovers ☹️☹️☹️#i just like the soft fluffy stuff. i get enough misery and torture from my day to day real life LMFQO#anyway. enjoy. thank u :]#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#kieran duffy#javier escuella#javieran#image#i have no ide what to tag this in terms of my blog specific tags LOL#hero's talking to himself again#i guess. i guess.#moodboard#edit#aes
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use your teeth on those who don't deserve you use your claws on everything that hurts you
rotting chaos
#my art#Cowboy Campaign#'Ladybird' (OC)#Pirate Campaign#Captain Flameheart (DnD NPC)#I can't imagine why my party immediately latched onto Flameheart couldn't possibly be the chaotic masked outlaw appeals to them#and they're BOTH fucking ROTTING!!!!!!!!!!!!#A WIN FOR THE GAYS (in what way? i don't fucking know but Ladybird and Flameheart aggressively shaking hands is really funny)#I tease btw I do genuinely love Flameheart for the brief moments we had them-- im always a sucker for suave monsters#but watching everyone go absolutely *insane* around me as their type once again was hit on the mark was *really* funny#my (romantically & sexually) demi ass watching them; wrow just like real life#me putting on the ladybird voice -- my friends promptly disintegrating into dust w/ a pavlov like response#rea's trash
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My butch is SO HOT she sends me selfies and I go PHWOAR and have heart palpitations
#just like gideon#or gideon in harrow in Abigail I suppose#harrow the ninth spoilers#just in case#anyway. she's like. if someone said to describe my type. it's literally her down to the last detail#I'm so down bad#did I mention she calls me cowboy!!!!#googling cool butch nicknames real quick#we talked on the phone for THREE HOURS last night which I know is actually two lesbian minutes but whatever whatever!!#bros yapping
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I finally made a Durge and I stuck with the white dragonborn, and when I couldn't decide between blue eyes and red I said "why not both? :)" which. is very Symbolic of her struggle I must say, but it also means she kinda. looks like this
#tangentially related anyone wanna rewatch Cowboy Bebop with me#i love thematically relevant mismatched eyes....#bg3#my nonsense#why does 'nonsense' keep correcting to 'nunsense' lately#ive never seen that show nor typed it on purpose???#anyway#help now Im imagining a gag where she's wearing 3d glasses and someone's like 'show me your REAL eyes!'#and she takes them off and her eyes look exactly the same 😭😭
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Traditional artist branching out into digital art! Can you tell I have Good Omens brainrot? Also can you tell that the first thing I learned to draw was horses?? Long story….
#I grew up in the south and was a cowboy for real#but the soft type of cowboy who wasn’t into guns and such was more interested in giving horses little snacks#yeah I can ride#cowboys and horses#good omens brainrot#ineffable husbands#aziracrow
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Things that work in fiction but not real life
torture getting reliable information out of people
knocking someone out to harmlessly incapacitate them for like an hour
jumping into water from staggering heights and surviving the fall completely intact
calling the police to deescalate a situation
rafting your way off a desert island
correctly profiling total strangers based on vibes
effectively operating every computer by typing and nothing else
ripping an IV out of your arm without consequences
heterosexual cowboy
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New upstairs and ground floor visit here one bedroom and two bed flats with various prices for the houses cheap and affordable modern luxury vintage home with chandeliers pop scredded wall pay and parking immediately located at rukpokwu area in port Harcourt city rivers state Nigeria.
#rivers state#abuja#vietnam#wike#bangladesh#lagos#nysc#nigeria#youtube#portharcourt#nafdac#dangote#dangotefuel#dangote refinery#uniport#ust#endsars#breakfast ideas#fall nails#literally me#me core#this is so me#real#fall aesthetic#my type#my boyfriend#dollify yourself#muscles#boyfriend material#save a horse ride a cowboy
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yes cowboy George !!
🤠🤠🤠
Fictional!Matty had no idea that cowboys did it for him until he saw Fictional!George wearing jeans, boots, and a tight white tee shirt riding a buckskin Quarter Horse in a Western saddle and talking about roping. But WOW was he into it. He would very much like Fictional!George to wear those boots ALL THE TIME and he would very much like to watch him go roping please and thank you. What may or may not go down in the truck on the ride home is between the two of them.
Thank you so much for reading and for the continued support! I'm so grateful that people have given my little equestrian au a chance and are also seeing the hotness in the idea of cowboy Fictional!George lol (Fictional!Matty is very much seeing the hotness lol) I hope you continue to enjoy this fic and that you are having a wonderful weekend!
❤️Ally
#allylikethecat#ask ally#anon ask#keep it kind#fanfiction#matty fic#gatty#fanfic#all the king's horses#equestrian au#atkh#its funny because i do like my men rather pathetic#like there are a few matty knock offs that i didnt even realize thats why i liked them at the time in my dating history#BUT holy shit there is also something about a cowboy that is just 🥵#my friends are like “we have no idea what your type is you are so all over the place with literally anyone you think is attractive”#and i am like yep lol#its the vibes the person has ya know#and i can get behind cowboy/cowgirl vibes#but like real ones that can ride a horse#fake cowboys/cowgirls are such an ick for me#therefore fictional!Matty has decided he feels the same lol
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𑣲 RILE HIM UP ! ft BOOTHILL.
⠀ — your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.
⠀ OR
⠀ — being boothill’s mechanic when you lowkey can’t stand each other.
⚠︎ sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k
boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.
a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight and— to your dismay— consciousness.
as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didn’t have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.
“sugar plum,” boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. “do y'care to explain where my legs might’a run off to?”
you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiring— the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable.
“care to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?”
you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.
“guess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?”
boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.
“look who’s talkin.” the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin.
“how ‘bout, ‘gee, boothill! i’m real glad y’ain’t get blown to smithereens beyond repair!’”
“it would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.”
you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.
“how’d it happen?”
boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.
“some real cutie-pies i was huntin’ down had a lil’ more firepower than i expected. guess they didn’t appreciate me spoilin’ their party.”
boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.
“and can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivin’ me up the wall.”
the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.
“you’re more concerned about your censor than how long it’s gonna take me to put your legs back on…” you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.
“i'm not touching it right now. you’re lucky i’m even letting you stay sentient after this.”
boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.
“well, ‘scuse me for wantin’ to speak freely– i’m a grown man!” his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.
“y’know what? just leave yer lil’ tools and all the pieces there— i’ll get my legs back on myself. don’t need no charity work from the likes’a you.” he laughed. “heck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!”
the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasn’t possible.
(not that he would’ve admitted defeat– you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)
you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.
“cool it, cowboy.” your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.
“i'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.”
boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings.
“real easy for you to say,” he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. “let’s see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.”
that censor really was gonna drive him insane.
“just get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. “and try not t’fuss anythin’ up.”
it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothill’s legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.
“feel fine?”
boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.
“mighty fine,” he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. “though i can’t say i’m lovin’ the breeze up my backside.”
boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing.
“got my pants lyin’ around anywhere, sugar plum?”
you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothes— (or rather the new ones you had to go and get—) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them.
boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.
the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) up— his fingers weren’t responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.
“hey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. “didn’t i tell you not to go fudgin’ anythin’ up?”
you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.
“what are you talking about?”
“my cute lil’ fingers ain’t workin’ that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!”
boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.
you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.
“make a fist,”
boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.
“open it,”
he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.
“hold up two fingers,”
boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.
“son of a bitch.” you sighed, turning for one of your tools. “sit back down.”
boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.
“least one o’us can say it…”
“do you want me to fix you or not?”
“i'm sittin’ ain’t i??”
you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.
boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.
it’s not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. it’s actually a little embarrassing– a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.
“something the matter?”
boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.
“nah, everything’s just dandy.” boothill’s voice followed yours– quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.
“you’re sure?” you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. “might as well fix anything else that’s bugging you while i’m here.”
boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhere— anywhere else.
yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didn’t see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.
boothill’s cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didn’t even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.
“close your fist…open it…two fingers up…”
each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.
“that should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.”
you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothill’s jacket and begin to zip it for him.
boothill didn’t protest the act, but it was…confusing, to say the least.
“reckon i’ll just start seein’ those auto bots again,” he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out. “much as i love our lil’ visits.”
you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into it’s neckline, as he liked. “you could,” you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. “they don’t take as good care of you as i do, though.”
this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.
you’re doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.
boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.
“you tryin’a rile me up, sugar plum?”
he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move.
“just like watching you squirm.”
you were gone as quickly as you’d arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.
“but say i was,” you didn’t bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. “i hardly have to try.”
boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.
“yeah? and what makes y’say that?” his hand found a place on his hip.
you didn’t respond— not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received.
so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers.
his own dream, now his downfall.
boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the air— or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!
“remind me t’settle for them lovely auto bots next time!”
he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl.
as if he wouldn’t be back. you took better care of him, after all.
⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
#i have a few leaks and drip marketing and thats it#but idc thats enough hes everything#boothill#boothill x reader#honkai star rail#boothill hsr#boothill honkai star rail#boothill x you#boothill headcanons#honkai star rail x reader#hsr#hsr x reader#hsr boothill#also#i know his synaesthesia beacon replaces the phrase and not only the word#im just not writing all that#UNEARTHLY
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"She Gets the Job Done!"
Cowgirl Ellie x Fem! Reader
Content: Cowgirl Ellie, Fem! country reader, Ellie is western type of cowgirl, reader is southern, badly written accents(guys I am southern but idk how to write a western accent), smut, clit rubbing(r! recieving), scissoring, making out, biting, some implied homophobia, reader is written as a lesbian, modern AU, reader has female anatomy, very loosely based off of Chappell Roan's unreleased song.
Word Count: 2.4k
Resource Credits: Here and Here!
Description: You're a true southern girl who is fed up with these country boys who just can't please you. What you really need is a woman, but that's kind of hard to seek out in a small southern town. When Ellie Williams moves into your town along with Joel Miller, she ends up working at the farm nearby, and you really want her. It's true: only a woman knows how to treat a woman right.
Wow, you really hated living in the south sometimes. You mostly loved the summer heat complimentary with trips to the creek on the weekends. You always loved going to rodeos where you obsessed over the dandies. You loved southern food, the nature, the farms and the small town life.
What you didn't love was the men.
You were always a romantic at heart, reading steamy western novels with a flashlight under your blankets at the age of 14 or writing love letters you'd never send to cowboys in town. However, as you grew up into a woman, you realized you'd slowly started replacing the men with cowgirls. You spent your nights wondering what it'd be like to be actually satisfied in a relationship. You grew up in a traditional-minded town, so you tried to push down those desires. You had a couple boyfriends, but men just weren't it for you. They were too rough, too awkward with you in bed, too greedy. None of them knew how to please a woman, at least not a woman like you. After a while, you gave up on the dream cowgirl you had in mind. The novels became difficult to pick up once you began to believe you'd never get the chance to experience real passion or real pleasure. That was what you'd felt like, at least until Ellie moved into your town.
Ellie Williams wasn't much for the south. She was a western girl at heart, adorned with thick leather boots and messy auburn hair. You'd seen cowgirls before, so that wasn't what surprised you. You just felt a calling to her, you adored her from her freckles that faded out in the sun to her messy hair that had a tint of red when light hit it in the right way. She was strong, that was for sure. Her biceps looked so firm, like they could handle if you sank your teeth down into them. She wasn't an extremely strong-looking girl, but that only enticed you more. Her eyes told a lot about her, said she wasn't looking for anything funny, but you wondered if she was silly under all the bravado.
She moved from the west side of the states with Joel Miller, who wasn't a wealthy man by any means, but grew up in your home town. At first, you couldn't tell if Ellie and Joel were related or not. Joel was more friendly, talked to older folks in town, but Ellie often kept to herself. She'd spend most of her time helping out with the farm next to your father's. It was when you were walking to the farmer's market that you noticed her for the very first time.
Your father was a nice man, well known in town. You were living with him until you had enough money to afford your own small place. He owned a farm and wasn't the most rich man, but he made ends meet. Today was a nice day, which mean he unfortunately encouraged you to walk to the local farmer's market instead of stealing his truck for the errand. Of course, you kept your complaints to yourself. Your dad was a sweet old man, and you should've been thanking him anyways, cause you met the most gorgeous girl the world had to offer.
Poor Ellie was too busy herding in sheep to notice your stare, to even notice you pass the road. It only made you more intrigued, that she was such a hard worker.
After that day, you'd always look out for her presence. You avoided using your dad's truck when you needed to run errands, saying it would be a quick walk. You just liked being able to pass by her as she worked on the farm, get the extra few seconds to admire her. You really felt like a creep, but this was the first time you really felt such adoration for a person. Such attraction.
The first time you spoke to her, she was driving Joel's truck down the dirt road after she had finished up with your neighbor's farm. You at the time were walking, coming home from the market with a bag of peaches for a peach cobbler. Ellie noticed you, and that was really when the two of you clicked.
She was used to pretty girls, the west and south had no shortage of them. However, you were perfection for the cowgirl. You wore a cutesy pair of overalls and a pink t-shirt underneath, and Ellie had a soft spot for feminine girls. She came to a slow stop on the dusty road, putting the transmission in park.
"Hey, you! Need a ride?" She shouted with a smile plastered on her face. Your heart melted. You'd expected her to be more serious or smug, but she seemed almost nervous. It was only making your heart beat faster.
"I only live next to this farm, it's really no problem." You assured, though you really hoped she'd push the matter. Thankfully, she did.
"Really, Joel would kill me if he found out I let you walk home. It's getting late."
You, an utterly hopeless lesbian, couldn't resist. You said fuck it and let her reach over to open the passenger door for you, and your boots reached up into the truck to plop down into the passenger seat. You placed the brown paper bag of peaches in your lap and gave her a quick thanks as she began driving. Small talk felt more like two old friends hitting it off, and you liked her accent. It made you a tad more comfortable.
The two of you grew really close after that day. She'd be in the local rodeos and you looked forward to the sleepovers that came after. A few months of friendship helped you get to know her in a way that you could confidently call her your best friend. You still liked her though, feelings only growing the more the two of you bonded. You noticed that while she was a bit shy, she came out of her shell when she was around people she knew. She was quite sarcastic to Joel, and you loved the way she made fun of you at times. It made your heart flutter, and you imagined she was saying the opposite of whatever insult she had created for you.
Ellie wasn't much like what you'd imagined, and you partially felt bad for the feelings harbored away for her. She was a cowgirl who loved horses, sure. But she shared some private interests with you that shouldn't have made you want her more, but it did. One night, Ellie and you were sitting outside in her cow field, a blanket laid out beneath the two of you. She turned to you with a genuine smile, the warm look that she only gave very few people, and spoke in a quiet voice.
"You know, I've always wanted to go to space."
You turned to face her with slightly raised eyebrows. "Really? You? In Space?" You couldn't help the surprise in your tone.
She laughed softly at your expression. "Yes, dumbass. I used to listen to the first moon landing recording on repeat. Somethin' about it was really magical, ya know?"
You couldn't help but melt a little at her confession. The thought of Ellie being obsessed with astronauts was really endearing. But you couldn't stop the teasing, either.
"Is that why you have those nerdy space comics on your shelf? You told me those were Joel's!"
Ellie scoffed and swatted your arm playfully, but her hand lingered on your skin. "That's a topic for another time. Be grateful I share my secrets with ya."
You felt the warmth of her fingers, the way they softly traced patterns on your bare arm. Right then and there, you suddenly needed to risk it all.
"Ellie...I..I really need to tell you something." You sounded shaky and uncertain, but you needed to get your feelings out, even if it meant facing a possible rejection. This girl was too perfect to let get away.
"Yeah, what's up?" She sounded curious, unaware. That made you feel uneasy.
"I just..well, when I first saw you, I thought of you as a completely different person. And I really liked you. I liked you in a romantic way. I got to know you, though. The thing is, I think I like you even more. And I'm so sorry if you-" You were suddenly cut off when her plush lips met yours.
You were shocked, but quickly kissed her back, hands grasping at her everywhere, pulling her to lay on her side so you could tangle your legs with hers. It felt so nice to be kissing her. She tasted like fruit and smelled even better, and her tongue felt hypnotizing against yours. It made you crave much more.
Soon, you were rolled onto your back so the cowgirl could lay on top of you. Her hands were trailing from your sides to your stomach, her hand pausing above your shirt, her eyes meeting yours to search for any hesitation. When you nodded, her hands slid up your shirt to massage your tits through the fabric of your cotton bra. You let out a quiet whine, the feeling of her weight pressed on your body, and she leaned in to press her lips against your neck. In response, you tilted your head back, desperately craving more of her. You could feel the shakiness of her breath, and it reminded you that she was just as nervous as you were.
"Do you wanna keep going?" She asked, and you really noticed how different her tone was from when she was usually speaking to people. One of her hands trailed down the button of your jeans, and she didn't continue until you nodded.
Her hand quickly unzipped your jeans, her eyes meeting yours. She thought you were just too beautiful, looking up at her with wide eyes. She adored you. Her fingers slipped into your panties, and she let out a little "fuck" when she felt the damp patch in your panties. You laughed with a tinge of embarrassment.
"Please, Ellie." You sounded so desperate, Ellie quickly leaned up to plant a kiss on your lips. This one was much more confident, more sloppy and hungry than the first. She took your tongue into her mouth, giving it a hard suck which made you buck up into her hand, trying to get her to just fuck you.
"Patience, mkay?" She said softly as she pulled away, a shaky exhale leaving her mouth at the sight of the string of saliva the kiss had pulled from the two of you.
You nodded even though you weren't the most patient person. Ellie kept you at bay by rubbing at your clit with the pad of her finger, swirling moisture around the soft bud. You made one of the most heavenly sounds Ellie had ever heard, your eyes fluttering shut as she touched you. For the first time, someone actually focused on you. She struggled to pull your shirt off with just hand but you helped her out and soon, your bra was quickly unclasped. Ellie continued to rub at your clit as much as she could through your jeans, but she eventually gave up and pulled her hand out of your jeans, eliciting a cute whine from you.
"Off, please?" She requested, her voice so sweet and yet so demanding. Now that she knew you wanted her, she wasn't playing around. You nodded eagerly and lifted your hips as much as possible to pull your jeans and panties over your hips. Soon, you were left naked on the blanket. Ellie sat up to strip off her own clothes and you admired the sight.
Something about watching the girl strip, her pale skin coming into view in contrast to the stars above the two of you, it was perfection. Her body was slim and she was lean but had muscle on her. There they were, those perfect biceps..you couldn't help but sit up with her to plant kisses on them which soon turned into hungry little bites.
She let out a shaky laugh at your biting and joked with you, even in the heat of the moment. "You're gonna take a bite outta my arm, jesus."
You ignored her teasing and instead moved your lips to her pointy tits, smiling slightly as she shuddered. You found her weak spots. You dragged your tongue over both of her tits, feeling her nipples harden against your touch. She was getting impatient now. She pulled you closer so you were sitting with your legs tangled together, moving to slot herself between your legs. You let out countless desperate pleas as her wet cunt came into contact with yours.
You couldn't help but buck your hips into her no matter how much she tried to stabilize you, both of your moans filling the field. Her cunt was so wet against yours and you could feel her clit and lips both rub up and down all over your own clit. The stimulation felt so good but it had you desperate in ways your body knew, your whines getting louder when Ellie would lean in for wet, lazy kisses and trail her lips all over your neck, hands snaking around to squeeze your ass.
"Fuck, Els. Please, I'm gonna cum..I want you, please.." You pleaded with her, your orgasm building up inside you. This would be the first time you actually came from another person's actions.
"Cum with me, mkay? Cmon baby, you can cum for me.."
You'd never heard Ellie speak so filthy before. Sure, she had a sailor's mouth. She'd swear and curse even on her death bed. But just hearing her beg you to cum, it really sent sparks down into your pussy.
You frantically ground against her pussy, words coming out probably incoherent to Ellie's ears. "Fuck, I'm cummin', I love you Els.."
Your orgasm hit you like fireworks, all of the butterflies you'd felt for Ellie over the months released into intense bliss. She came with you, your juices mixing together, wetness coating both of your thighs.
The two of you spent the next few minutes catching your breaths, a comfortable silence exchanged. You were collapsed against her, arms around her as she held you close. She was so warm, and it was now a comfort more than a turn-on.
Soon, she spoke up in a soft, quiet murmur just for you.
"I love you too, by the way.."
#ellie tlou#ellie williams#tlou2#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader#ellie x you#ellie smut#ellie x y/n#tlou smut#lesbianism#sapphic#wlw#sapphic smut#smut#the last of us part 2
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every man gets his wish - joel miller
rating: E 18+ pairing: neighbor!joel x f!pornstar!reader summary: joel discovers his next door neighbor makes porn in her spare time. once she's confronted, she finds out that he has an interest in helping create content ;) warnings: not proofread, no physical descriptions other than reader having an unidentified tattoo on her thigh and nice peach, unspecified age gap (ur choice pookie), [m] masturbation, objectively joel is a bit of a perv, some awkward dialogue, literal porn. literally, degradation (they get a lil rough), f + m oral, smacking/spanking, daddy kink (slight ddlg vibes too), pet names and plenty of dirty talk YUM wc: 3.2k a/n: happy valentine's day smut sluts :D!
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He almost couldn’t believe his eyes, but he’d recognize that tattoo anywhere; his gaze followed the tattoo on the back of your thigh as you rode your cute little excuse for a toy.
Your soft moans and breaths echoing through the speakers on his laptop made his legs tremble against the old desk chair in his room while he fucked his fist.
He didn’t even think twice about the video he clicked on. He just knew he was horny and in need of quick release, so he typed his favorite keywords into Pornhub’s search engine and clicked the sixth video that only showed your ass. He realized he never noticed how juicy it was, and the oil or lotion or lube or whatever you fucking used to make it so goddamn shiny only emphasized how perfect it was.
Staring at the screen, he grasped the armrest in one hand and cock in the other, watching your puffy pussy cream all over the dildo. He matched the strokes of his hand with the rhythm of you bouncing. Slowing down, speeding up, only fucking the tip or grinding—he reenacted every movement of yours as best he could.
Even waiting until you were shaking and shouting the words, “I’m cumming—fuck yes! Just like that baby,” before cumming with you.
He watched the last few minutes of the video, watching you slap the dildo on your creamy cunt and play with it a little more along with standing up off of your bed and jiggling your ass in your hands. You giggled softly watching yourself. Then, much to his surprise, you sat down in front of the camera and smiled.
He wasn’t expecting you to reveal your face, so when the video ended he looked out of his bedroom window into yours. You were lying on the bed reading a book in the very spot where you recorded that filthy video.
You weren’t trying to tease him, he knew that, but it certainly felt that way.
♡
Joel had successfully managed to evade you for a week feigning work has been keeping him too tired for company. He found himself a touch jealous that the world had seen you naked before him despite your relationship being completely platonic.
You owed him nothing, not even an explanation, but he still felt weirdly possessive over you. He had a slight crush on you when you first moved in, but you were so much younger than he was, and in his eyes you'd want nothing to do with such an old man like himself. Not to mention the 'crush' was mostly just a lingering desperation to fuck you.
The discovery led him to do a deep dive into your profile on the website. There he discovered what seemed like a plethora of your content along with your affinity for degradation whether it was to yourself or towards others.
However he felt like he could finally breathe when he saw it was all solo content. You didn't even seem to entertain the idea of fucking someone else and uploading it. He even felt a sliver of hope that he could be your first real fuck on camera, but if he already struggled with confronting his own feelings towards you then how could he ever open up the opportunity to doing a video with you?
Joel was finally over avoiding you. He was ready to admit his discovery to you and go from there. He just prayed you wouldn't freak out.
"Hi, Joel!" You greeted after opening your front door. "What's been goin' on cowboy, I've been a little lonely on this side of town."
He followed your actions and sat on your sofa; as instant as a heartbeat you noticed he was off. Nervous? Worry? Anger? You struggled to read him.
"Somethin' the matter?"
He pulled himself out of his daze and looked at you, mouth hanging open like he couldn't manage the words. They just sort of... Spilled out.
"I found your porn on PornHub the other day and I don't care that you sell porn. I really don't. You're a grown woman and it's your body and you can do whatever you want. I just felt wrong not tellin' you."
Poor Joel.
You wanted to laugh at him, tell him there was no guilt in finding it or even watching it (because let's face it, you know he did).
"Okay," you said.
"Okay..."
"...Did you like it?" You asked after feeling a little uneasy with the silence.
"Hell yeah," he responded without hesitation making you giggle.
"Really?" You tittered, "I feel like it gets old."
This was his golden opportunity. At the very least he could pass what he was about to say off as a joke.
"I could always help with that," he chuckled.
You were clearly taken aback by his statement but still smiling. "I'm don't like sharing my money, Joel," you scoffed.
"So don't pay me," he said just as he leaned in a little closer. "Just fuck me."
You couldn't fight the blush that rose to your cheeks and he cockily took notice of it.
"Are you fucking with me?" You bashfully asked.
This made him lean in closer, close enough for you to smell him, close enough to feel his breath cascading over your collarbones, close enough to know that the dark look in his eyes wasn't mischief. It was desire.
His hands cupped your jaw so that he could bring your nose to his. You felt beautifully trapped between his hands, gaze, and aura. Suddenly you were filled with the desire to let him take you in any way he wanted to imagine.
"You know what my favorite video is?" He whispered, breath hitting your lips. "You were on your side, getting ready to cum, and you kept saying I belong to you until you were screaming. Damn near crying. Your little fucktoy was soaked. You had cum everywhere. But the best part was when you did start to cum. You couldn't even look away from yourself, you looked too damn good and you fucking knew it."
"I'd look even better with you inside of me," you told him.
He sharply inhaled before placing his needy lips onto yours, pressing his face in as much as he could.
You moaned into his open mouth, reaching for his tongue with your own. His hands roamed down your body until they reached your hips; showing off his strength, he lifted you into his lap and stood up not wanting to waste another second.
He tried to be careful on the stairs but his eagarity caused him to misstep and almost drop you; he left no room for embarrassment and quickly returned to running up with you giggling at the mishap.
Joel placed you on the bed standing with his jean-covered erection eye level with you. "Where's your camera?"
"Really wanna record it, hmm?" You said softly, running your hand along his hard length and motioning your head to the dresser behind him.
He grabbed it, muttering, "Wanna show everyone you're mine now," whilst turning the camera on.
You cocked an eyebrow up as if to say oh really. "Is that so? I'm all yours now?"
Smiling, he pointed the now recording camera at you. He cupped your chin and dragged a finger over the bright smile you wore. "You're all mine now, darlin'."
You giggled coyly then kissed his clad erection slowly with eyes that remained on the lens.
"Quit teasin'," he demanded with a playful lilt.
You hummed and fake pouted, pulling your face away to toggle his jeans. "There are nicer ways to ask," you teased.
"I'm not askin'."
"Oh? My apologies, daddy."
Your hand began pumping his thick cock when you said that, making his cock jerk hard within your tight grip.
"Daddy, huh?" He entertained; you seductively nodded. "S'pretty right here..."
"Where I belong," you hummed.
Then, you lined your tongue up with the base of his cock, just barely teasing his balls, and licked a stripe up his girthy shaft before twirling your tongue around his red hot tip. You carefully watched as his face contorted, ensuring it was with pleasure and looking for any sensitive spots he may have.
He seemed to favor your tongue on his cockhead so that's what you prioritized for a minute. You tongue kissed it as if it were his mouth. Licking and sucking and pulling it into your mouth feverishly.
His cock tasted manly and the length was just as impressive as him. You finally pulled more of him into your mouth allowing him the privilege of feeling your gummy cheeks swell and close around his dick.
A strained groan left his throat and his head fell back in pleasure. You pushed some of him into your throat to gag, earning more spit to pump the rest of his length with.
Joel was enamoured to say the least. Your wide eyes locked with his letting him know you loved sucking his cock as much as he did. Spit hung from your chin prompting him to reangle the camera to get the side view of everything.
He placed a hand on the back of your head and gently fucked your throat. You moaned, grabbing his ass and pulling him in for more pain, more suffocation.
Your throat gagged over and over again, imitating the feeling of your swallowing his dick. You loved how he shamelessly moaned, filling your ears with the sexy sounds of his calloused whimpers and content praises.
"Such a good girl, sucking daddy's cock like that," he groaned. "You like the taste, don't you? Such a good little slut." He smacked your jaw as encouragement to keep doing whatever magic you were fucking performing.
Once your throat began to get sore you pulled your mouth off of him, still opting to use your hands as he laid you down and rested on top of you, giving you the sloppiest kiss you'd ever received and assisting you with undressing.
He tasted his cock on your lips and chin and slurped up whatever precum and spit you had leftover. It felt nasty and passionate, with subtle moans spilling from both of you, and Joel couldn't get enough of it.
"Sit on my face," he breathed.
"Sit on your face?"
"Mmhm."
You set the camera up on the dresser looking at the screen to ensure it would capture everything before complying with his wish. He let out a muffled moan as soon as your wet pussy came in contact with his wet mouth.
On the camera, everything could be seen: your cunt glistened effortlessly and his tongue lapped up whatever your body poured for him. His scruff tickling your freshly shaved skin made you giggle and moan, little noises everywhere that sung like a melody in his ears.
Your clit tingled with a pressure that encouraged you to started riding his face. In response Joel's calloused hands came up to grip your ass and assisted your movements.
He squeezed one cheek almost too hard before spanking it a few times, your flesh easily bruising red and stinging deliciously.
"Joel, your mouth... Perfect," you blabbered. You were filled with bliss: your eyes were closed, fingers twirling playfully in his messy hair.
God, he licked you so fucking good. So messy but that's what made it effortlessly perfect.
"I—oh my God. Fuck! I love your fucking mouth," you moaned loudly.
"Mhm?"
You shuddered at the vibrations, hips stuttering into his licks and sucks even deeper.
"Yes, Joel!" You cried, "Fuck you're gonna make me cum... You're gonna make me cum!"
He spanked your ass even more at this, making both cheeks turn a bashful color and jiggle against his jawline.
With trembling thighs you managed all of your strength to hump him harder and faster. Doing whatever you fucking could to reach your climax.
"Yesyesyesyesyesyes!" You happily cheered as your juices began to relentlessly pour out of your squelching cunt and down his chin.
A satisfied smile rose to your face as your clit throbbed through the orgasm Joel had just given you. You slowed down on your own time allowing him to savor every last drop he'd be tasting for now.
You carefully removed your weight from his face, feeling more out of breath than ever. Meanwhile Joel sat up and swiped up some of your come with his thumb just before forcing it into your mouth and using his other hand to pinch out some that managed to get inside of his nose.
You were a tad embarrassed by his action but his subtle grin let you know that there was nothing more sexy than getting you so wet that it literally almost suffocated him.
Your mouth latched into him, cherishing the scruff surrounding his face. He went to lay on top of you again, your head now hanging off of the foot of the bed; he held your legs to your chest and slid into you easily making you whine at the slight burn that came with being stretched out.
With furrowed brows and an agape mouth, he incandescently moaned into the thick air while his thick thumb found your sensitive clit. You flinched and exhaled harmoniously at the combination of pleasure, enriched in the ecstasy he gave.
"You're so fuckin' tight, babydoll. Agh—almost can't take it," he taunted. "M'gonna have to ruin ya."
He gently released the grip of your legs and put his weight onto you. His arms slithered beneath you, wrapping around you in a way that made you feel safe. Then he kissed you, much more softly than before and rolled his hips back and forth. Your slick walls gripped him, trying to suck him in deeper.
His lips pulled off of you with a pop and he licked a thick line from your clavicle to behind your ear as if he magically knew it was your sweet spot.
You giggled and shivered at the ticklish feeling, enduring it until it started to feel more sensual. He felt you relax within his touch and took it as opportunity to nibble the spot, biting it just enough to hurt a little bit.
Between his movements and your sweaty bodies sticking together you felt almost useless; you were used to doing the work, giving instead of taking. But it felt too good to stop now.
When you clawed at his back he pushed himself up and started slamming into you. You gasped, digging your nails into his arms.
"Love those pretty little sounds you're makin' f'me," he hummed, pushing his hand into your exposed neck and gripping it. "You like that? Hm? Ohh, you fucking love it. Look at you."
You raised a hand and smacked his cheek lightly—your way of saying fuck you considering his grasp of you. He reciprocated, landing a firm smack to your face and earning a smile in return.
"Fuckin' brat needs to be put in her place—"
You shook your head attempting to hum out a no.
The hand he had around your neck reached up to squish your cheeks so that he could come eye to eye with you. "God, fuck. I can't even punish you when you look at me with those pretty eyes," he said defeatedly. "Look at you, babydoll. You're so fuckin' tight. Best fuckin' pussy ever. So wet, just f'me."
"All yours, Joel. I'm all yours."
"Yeah?" He cooed. "You're all mine?"
"Fuck yes!"
"Cum for me, baby. Yeah, cum on my cock," he pleaded, "get it nice and wet for me darlin', need you to cum for me."
Between his scruff voice and brutal thrusts you found yourself falling into another orgasm, everything around you ceased to exist.
The world went quiet aside from Joel's encouragements and praises; you could feel the blood pumping throughout your body, your heart punching against your chest, and your body molding to the twists and curves of Joel's body.
As you squeezed and scratched and begged him for more more more you felt the tension between your legs dissolve passionately into a sear so strong you felt it warm and burning the flesh along your belly.
Joel watched your chest rise and fall with your tits bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts. He rode you out until the very end of your high before picking you up and sitting on the edge of the bed with you straddling him.
Feeling even more horny and turned on than before you wasted no time and began bouncing on his painfully hard dick.
He was fighting his climax, needing to feel you wrapped around him as long as he could take.
"You feel so fucking good, daddy," you whined, "want your cum."
"You want me to cum inside you babydoll?" He pouted.
"Yes Joel. Want you to fill me up..."
"Gonna ruin that pretty pussy," he grunted, "gonna make you mine. This pussy belongs to me now, doesn't it?"
He listened to you whimper and weep and whine, coaxing you through it all while offering a few pops to your ass and thighs for encouragement.
You watched him lay down, arms folded behind his head to enjoy the little show you were putting on for him. Hair bouncing and flaying everywhere while you rode him with a bobbling head—the view from where he was looked pretty fucking perfect.
Your movements halted and you managed to turn around on his cock while keeping it inside; hearing a strained gurgly moan come from him as a result, you mercilessly began riding him again giving him the best view of your ass as it clapped against the peak of his belly.
"Good fuckin' slut," he slapped your tatted thigh and watched intently for a moment or two. "Good girl, mhmm. Doin' such a perfect job on daddy's cock."
Joel then sat up and reached for your clit, rubbing the sweetest little circles on it and using his free hand to turn your face to kiss him.
Reverse cowgirl had always been his favorite position, but he can't remember a time or even a moment where it felt this fucking good.
"You're gonna make me cum, baby," he whispered with his forehead leaning against yours. "Gonna make me fuckin' cum. Tha' what you want, baby? Want your daddy to fill this fuckin' pussy up?"
He gave your clit a mean smack but it only made you go faster.
"Need you to cum! Fucking—ohh! Cum for me, please daddy. Want you to f-fill me up!"
Joel began thrusting to meet you halfway, and his eyes stayed locked with yours as he muttered a string of profanities.
"Oh shit. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck. Fuck yes!"
He painted your pussy with his hot, sticky ropes of cum, moaning your name over and over with fluttering eyes and a tight grip on your hips. He thrusted a few more times before pulling out and meeting you with a few more soft kisses as a thank you.
You felt his cum slowly pouring out of your swollen cunt, trailing down his softening cock and on the sheets. You two stayed like that for a while, savoring the moment and taking your time.
A while later while he was cleaning up between your legs he said, "You better upload that video."
"You weren't joking?" You scoffed, wearing a smile.
"I wasn't joking," he said contently.
That night once he had fallen asleep in your bed, you decided to upload the full video uncut with the perfect title...
My DILF Neighbor Comes Over For A Creampie ♡
346K Views | 93% | 16 Hours Ago | ♡ 532
#pedro pascal#joel miller#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fluff#joel tlou#joel miller tlou#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou fandom
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Still baffled at people saying "oh he's been in hiding" for Cassidy's skin tone changing like every comic or little mention of him he's outside? He's not a cave hermit? He's literally darker in his short that takes place immediately before his comic of hitting up people to be the new Overwatch??
#bloodfire09's overwatch adventure#baffling. and like the hiding source is the name change post that was phrased like he was trans but theyre acting like he was always Cassidy#in his lore now so ???#I get why but the name change teaser post thing made it sound like he was going by a fake name and now he has to face reality and go by his#real name? like hes your outlaw cowboy hero type so like fake names made sense#but because he was named after a sex pest hes cole the whole time
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I think the people disagreeing dont know enough irl american middle-aged white men. They all own cargo shorts.
if you think arcade gannon wouldnt own cargo shorts i believe you are fundementally misunderstanding his character
#i think they just spontaneously generate in your closet if you're a white dude#i personally think he has a real nice cowboy hat bc hes nevadan and he has self respect#and yeah. i agree with socks and sandals too#hes the type of dude who would put the white SPF on his nose and cheeks#hes not cool guys hes literaly just some dude#like hes soooo regular#and i love him
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Jason is the type of person to put on some shitty romance movie only for his date to fall asleep and for him to get strangely invested.
are you still watching?
i saddle up my horse and I ride into the city. i make a lot of noise 'cause the girls they are so pretty. riding up and down broadway on my old stud leroy, and the girls say...
or; 3 times Jason Todd gets hooked on your television choices [3.7k]
jason todd x fem!reader; this is so real...and so clever!!! i LOVE the concept. i did get a little carried away and lost the plot unforch...pt3 is just a sex dream ab cowboy!jason so. also I apologize for taking forever to respond. tw...klance mentioned💀 & suggestive but not explicit. and i do bash on voltron in pt2 a little but it's all in good fun🫶i did my time with them divider
i.
“Baby, I love you, but if you don’t pick something soon I’ll call Dick in here to entertain us with his backflips.”
“Oh, be quiet,” you huff. Though as you scroll, once again, through all the options on Netflix, you fear his threat may be serious.
You reach the bottom of the page, having found nothing. You peek at Jason from the corner of your eye and hover the cursor over the ‘Back to Top’ button.
“No.” He reaches to grab the laptop from you, but his injuries hinder his usual swiftness. You shriek in objection and roll away to the other side of the bed, computer held tight in your clutches.
“Babe.” He groans. He tries to reach across the bed to you, but his grasp falls short by mere centimeters as you frantically begin another scan of the site.
“I will find something, I promise!” You say. “Just one more minute!”
He rolls his eyes. “You said that ten minutes ago. And I’m the one who’s injured, shouldn’t I get to pick?”
You spare him a glance, pondering over his wrapped foot elevated on a pillow, and the bandages around his torso. His arm has fallen flat on his bed, having given up on its attempt to catch you. That alone should guilt you into saying yes; his childhood bed is just shy of too small for his adult self, so being unable to reach the other end speaks to the severity of his pain. And to add salt to the wound, you know he isn’t exactly fond of staying at his father’s house, but he is in no shape to recuperate alone.
“I would say yes, but you don’t know any good shows! All you watch is Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives.”
He scoffs. “I thought you liked that show!”
You scoff back, imitating him. “I did. But a person can only stand so much of Guy Fieri talking with his mouth full.”
He quiets, probably searching for a rebuttal, but you can’t imagine he’ll find any. You use the opportunity to resume your search unimpeded.
After a few minutes, you perk up. “Ooh, they added New Girl on Netflix!” You scoot back over on the bed to his side, satisfied with your choice.
“What is that?” Jason asks.
You whip your head to him. “You don’t know New Girl?”
He pushes a stray hair behind your ear, eyes narrowed. “Should I?”
Your eyes flit to the computer screen, then back to him, and you sigh. “No, I guess not.”
You’re about to press play on the first episode but stop yourself. “Do you want to choose? You’re already hurting enough, I don’t want to torture you with this too. Besides, I’ve seen it, like, a million times anyway.”
“No, it’s okay.” He turns the computer towards him and presses play. “I don’t need any of my siblings barging in and catching me enjoying Guy Fieri. I’d never hear the end of it.”
You titter at his remark and set your laptop in the middle of you, a little farther away so you don’t have to crane your neck to see the screen. He lifts his arm to drape it around you but struggles with raising it past shoulder level. You meet him halfway by ducking underneath his arm and settling it over your shoulders. He kisses the top of your head in thanks.
Leaning against his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing is too hypnotic for you to focus. Paired with the warmth of his skin, bare so as not to obstruct access to his wound dressings, you are quickly lulled to sleep.
It must be several hours later when movement against you disturbs you from sleep. The room is almost pitch black, save for the dim glow of the computer, still on and resting on your legs a few feet away. The air is thick with late-night silence, and fighting against the heaviness of your eyelids is so laborious that you have to use your hand to pry them open. Jason is squirming next to you, hand outstretched, low huffs of pain slipping from his mouth.
A shot of adrenaline courses through you and you stumble into action.
“What happened? What hurts?” The laptop tips off your legs and falls to the bed, landing on its side as you scramble to your knees and face him. “Should I get someone?”
“What? No, I— I’m fine, why?” He squints at you through the darkness.
“You—” Your throat catches and you take a deep, steadying breath. “It sounded like you were in pain.”
“No, honey, I’m fine. It’s okay. You can go back to sleep.” Jason takes your wrist and gently pulls you back into his side. You don’t budge.
“Then why were you moving?” You scan him for any signs of a worsening injury. Downplaying his own pain is not something you can put past him, unfortunately.
“I…” His eyes look past you for a quick second. He swallows. “I wasn’t,” he says, unconvincingly.
You narrow your eyes at him, then turn around to see what he is looking at, despite his (false) reassurances. Your laptop, still on its side, lies awake and open to the Netflix website. You pick it up to get a closer look at the screen. The player has gone dark, and overcast in white lettering; ‘New Girl: Are you still watching?’
You turn back to Jason, dumbfounded. “You risked hurting yourself…for this?”
Now adjusted to the darkness, you can see his cheeks tinged with pink. “No?”
“Jason.”
“You’re the one who put it on!”
You check the clock in the corner of the screen.
“It’s three AM, Jay. You need to sleep if you want your body to heal.” You argue.
“It wasn’t on purpose!” He defends. “I can’t sleep sitting up, and I need help lying down.” he fails to meet your eyes as he says this.
You cross your arms, tilting your face to catch his gaze. “And what am I doing here?”
“I didn’t want to wake you up,” he mumbles.
You just stare. It takes fifteen seconds for him to break.
“Fine. I was enjoying the show. I wanted to keep watching. Happy?” He punctuates his statement with a shrug but groans through a clenched jaw, remembering the injuries to his upper body.
“Okay, just—” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. “It’s too late for this. Can we please go to sleep?” You don’t wait for an answer, shutting the laptop and placing it on the bedside table.
He leans off the headboard so you can help him shift his body down the bed and lie flat, and you lie down next to him.
“Comfy?” You ask.
“Yes.”
“Need anything?”
“No.”
“Okay. Goodnight,” you whisper. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Jason says quietly.
You snuggle into his side. It’s quiet for a few minutes, but you can tell by his breathing pattern that he’s still awake. He whispers your name into the darkness, hoping you’re still awake.
“Yes, honey?” You answer.
There is a beat of silence. Then, “When do Nick and Jess get together?”
“Go to sleep.”
ii.
Jason leans against the kitchen counter behind him, hands in his pockets, as he watches the microwave dish spin in a slow circle. It whirs under the yellow lightbulb, the flat paper packet puffing up among raucous popping. With sixty seconds left to kill, he searches the cabinets for a large enough bowl to fit the family-size packet of popcorn, as well as the various add-ons you adore.
The first time you invited Jason over for a movie night, in the beginning stages of your relationship, he looked on in wonder as you combined the grocery store’s entire snack aisle into one salty, sugary, buttery abomination in a jumbo Hello Kitty bowl.
“How do you even come up with something like this?” He had asked, ripping open the bag of pretzels as you emptied the fresh batch of popcorn into the bowl.
“Wait!” You stopped him just before he could pour the pretzels in. “Sugary stuff first. While it’s still hot. Then it gets all melty and good.” You dumped an entire bag of mini marshmallows, caramels, and M&M’s in, and gave it a few stirs. “And to answer your question, I was in high school and experiencing intense munchies.”
You gave him the OK to add the pretzels, so he did. “I envy your dentist,” he said, and you stuck your tongue out at him.
Now, with plenty more movie nights under his belt, you trusted him enough to assemble your party mix on his own while you select something to watch.
The microwave beeps. As he rips open the popcorn bag, you yell from the living room.
“Hey, what about The Bourne Identity?” You call out. “Have you—? Wait.” You cut yourself off.
“What’s it about?” He yells back. You don’t answer. “Babe?” He calls again.
“Never mind! I’m gonna keep looking!”
He adds the sugary snacks first, stirring them until they melt, just how you like it. He’s tearing into the bag of pretzels when he hears you shriek.
He drops the bag and bolts to the living room, pretzels scattering all over the counter and floor.
“What happened?” His eyes bounce around the entire room, scanning for any threat.
He’s unsure what he expected to find, but it was a tad more perilous than you simply sitting on the couch, staring open-mouthed at the TV.
“Uh…nothing. Sorry.” Your face flushes. The remote is still raised and pointed at the screen.
“Vol…tron?” Jason reads from the title sequence that plays in the preview window. “Is this some kind of anime?”
“No…sort of, maybe,” you say. “It doesn’t matter. I'm just surprised to see it is all. I loved this show when I was younger.”
“Is it any good?” He asks.
You look to the side, thinking about it. You settle on: “Define good.”
His forehead wrinkles, mouth falling slightly open. “Did you…enjoy watching it?”
“Define enjoy.”
“Okay, forget I asked.” He sighs and goes back to the kitchen.
When he returns a few minutes later, floor pretzels in the trash and counter pretzels swept into the bowl, you’re already watching the first episode.
“This your choice?” He asks. You take the bowl in your lap and he settles down next to you, his arm wrapping around your waist.
“Definitely not. Just wanted to reminisce until you got back.” You frown at the bowl. “Where are all the pretzels?”
He chuckles. “That’s what you get for screaming. Dropped ‘em on the floor.”
You pout. “I didn’t scream. I was surprised. Now the ratio’s off, there’s not enough saltiness to balance the sweetness.”
“Poor baby,” he croons sarcastically. “Only getting a quarter bag of pretzels ‘stead of a full.”
You were going to switch the television to a movie you both liked, but you spent the entire first episode bickering about the important role each ingredient plays in, what you call, “The Party Mix Experience”. The next episode auto-played on its own, and you let it.
During the second episode, you and Jason were absorbed in a competition to see who could catch more flying popcorn pieces in their mouth (Jason), which then devolved into seeing who could dodge more popcorn kernels thrown to the face (also Jason).
By the beginning of episode three, you settled into meaningless chatter while paying half-hearted attention to the TV screen, and by the end, you were laid out on the couch, head in Jason’s lap, while you scrolled on your phone and he stroked your hair. You drifted to a light sleep, coaxed by his fingers scratching at your scalp.
When you wake from your nap, there’s a blanket draped over you and Jason’s hand is still settled in your hair. You push yourself up to sit beside him, speaking through a yawn. “How long was I asleep?”
Jason adjusts the blanket so it covers both of you. “Um…I dunno. Three episodes, maybe.”
“You’re still watching,” you remark, as the end credits for episode six begin to roll.
He says nothing. You both stare as the auto-play timer for the next episode counts down. Next to the remote, his fingers twitch.
You purse your lips, suppressing a grin. “You know, there’s quite an online community for people who like this show.”
“Ha. Were you part of it?” He muses.
“Yup. And I deserve a medal of valor for my time in those trenches.” You kiss his cheek and stand up, stretching your arms. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” he says. His voice is low and gravelly with weariness.
You turn toward the bedroom when a call of your name stops you.
“Is it just me, or is something goin’ on between the red guy and the blue guy?”
“Oh, honey,” you sigh. It’s loud and pitying. You bend down to cup his cheek and draw him in for a kiss. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Babe!” He yells after you as you disappear into the bedroom. “You didn’t answer my question!”
iii.
It’s only a Hallmark movie, but with how he’s reacting, it might as well be six hours of paint drying. Jason is not eager to spend his night watching some boring, formulaic cliché, but it's late and you don't have anything better to do.
“That is absolutely not true,” he says when you counter his protests with this excuse.
“It’s two o’clock in the morning, Jay. Is there anything else to do, except sleep?” You rub your tired eyes. Both of you could use some sleep but, burrowed as you are under a pile of blankets, moving all the way from the couch to the bed seems impossible.
He leans in close, lips brushing against your ear. “I can think of a few things.”
His warm breath tickles your neck, and you feel a shiver despite the heat you’ve conserved in your little blanket burrito. The faintest of kisses is pressed behind your ear, and his eyes glint with familiar mischief when he pulls back.
You brush him off, rolling your eyes in amusement. “Do any of those things involve flannel-wearing farmer hunks or the True Meaning of Christmas?”
Turning back to the television, you take the remote from his hands, catching the tail end of a disgruntled mumble about how ‘I can buy a flannel…’
He grumbles a few more complaints during the movie’s first act (‘he’s not even that hunky’) before you scold him to silence. Once he’s quieted, and you settle more comfortably into him, your head is nestled securely in the crook of his shoulder with arms wrapped around his bicep. The warmth of him has you fighting against the tempting call of REM. Right around when the independent, successful, businesswoman protagonist discovers the handsome, flannel-clad man who helped repair her car is also the single father who runs an honest family business, you start to drift off, falling asleep amid thoughts of wearing plaid in the countryside.
You open your eyes to find yourself standing in a vast, open field.
Thump. Thump.
It’s unclear where the sound is coming from, but a splash of red in your periphery stands out. You turn; there’s a barn off in the distance.
Thump.
Your legs carry you in its direction. Growing closer by the second, the thumping sound echoes louder in your ears. When you round the corner of the structure, the front doors are propped wide open by cement blocks, and bales of hay are stacked outside the doors. A large figure, whose back is to you, is lugging a bale by its straps. He hauls it onto his shoulder, and his shirtsleeves tighten around his thick arms. He brings it to the barn, tossing it onto a pile of more hay bales. It lands with that same thump.
When he turns around, it’s in slow motion.
The sleeves of his plaid flannel are rolled up his arms, exposing his large, veiny forearms. Under the flannel, he sports a simple white t-shirt, jeans, and work boots that give him an extra inch of height. His face and chest are shiny with sweat, and his shirt is soaked through. He holds a toothpick between gritted teeth.
It’s Jason. In a cowboy hat.
He takes off his hat and runs a hand through his hair. Its dampness makes it stay slicked back rather than settling into its usual shape where little curls are always falling over his eyes. Then, he sees you. A slow, sly grin spreads across his face. He puts his hat back on and removes the toothpick so he can speak.
“Hey there, little lady,” he drawls lazily, the Gotham accent you’re so accustomed to replaced with a southern twang. It does something to you that you’re a little embarrassed to admit. He looks you up and down, pausing above your knee for a split second before continuing.
“Hi,” you say, averting your gaze from where it had zeroed in on a droplet of sweat running down his neck. Your face burns redder than his beautifully sun-kissed cheeks.
He chuckles. “You jus’ gonna stand there or you gonna lend a hand? Compost ain’t gonna turn itself.”
He easily hauls up another bale, and you follow him into the barn.
You watch as he shirks it onto the pile, then repeats with the remaining few bales. He seems to forget you’re standing there as he gets so absorbed in his work, expression tightening in focus. You lean on the wooden post behind you and soak it in; every sound, every flexed muscle, every display of firm strength has you feeling like the air has been punched out of you. He carries the final bale into the barn and his low grunt as he throws it off his shoulder has a swooning sigh escape you. It catches his attention.
Your chest tightens in embarrassment as he prowls closer. He leans over you, hand against the wooden post right above your head. With him this close, a smattering of freckles is visible over the bridge of his nose, likely due to all the sun exposure. Huffing and sweaty, his eyes drag down your face and stop at your mouth. He swallows hard, and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.
He lifts his free hand to trace over the thin strap of your top. His fingers ghost over the skin, barely touching. “This is pretty,” he says, voice low. “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ all the way out here?”
And you just can’t help it anymore. You lurch up to him, desperate to close the space between you. You kiss him hard, and he kisses you back, his hand rising from your shoulder to grip the side of your neck. His thumb brushes your jaw, and your hands grip the material of his flannel, yanking it down to bring him even closer. You pull him against you so roughly that your head bumps the post behind you from the force. He smirks, teasing, into the kiss as his hand comes to cup the back of your head.
“Easy, sweetheart. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” After getting his fill from your lips, he slowly graces a path to your neck, kissing, licking, and nipping as he goes. His relaxed leisure perfectly juxtaposes your frantic hunger for him.
You grip his face and pull his mouth back to yours, kissing him with even more fervor. You take his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down with little care for gentleness, and tug at the skin. He groans, and it rumbles deep in his throat. You soothe the spot with your tongue, and your eyes roll back into your head at the salty taste of his skin. As his tongue slides between your lips, he removes the hand that’s leaning onto the post and settles it on the skin of your thigh. It drags upward, feeling every inch of skin on his fingertips before disappearing under the hem of your skirt. At the same time, your hands slide down his body. His touch explores higher, and yours slips under his shirt to ground yourself on the hard skin of his abdomen, which has become slick with sweat.
The sound you make is debauched, coming from the deepest recesses of your stomach. He pulls back, wearing a cheeky smile. He opens his mouth to speak and says—
“Wait, what the fuck?”
You jerk awake. Jason is yelling.
“Why would you go with him?” He exclaims at the TV, and then turns to exclaim to you, “Why would she go with him?”
You stare at him, agape, trying to process your surroundings and asking yourself what just happened.
“Shit. Were you asleep?” Jason puts his outrage on hold.
You nod. “Yeah— yes.” Your voice comes out scratchy and hollow. “I was.”
“Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says. His eyebrows furrow. “Are you hot?”
“What?”
“You look warm.” He presses the back of his hand to your flushed neck. “Is it too many blankets?”
Though his hand is cool, you feel even warmer, the image of his hand gripping that same spot of your neck flashing through your mind.
“I’m…good,” you say. “I think I’ll go to bed.” You dig yourself out of the shell of blankets and stand, but he doesn’t follow.
“Oh.” Jason glances at the TV, which is still in a commercial break. “You— did you want me to come?”
You don’t know what to say.
“The, uh…” He runs a hand through his hair, and you have to stifle a gasp. “The guy from her successful city life tracked her down to the small town to get back together. She said yes.” Then he sighs, sounding genuinely distressed. “There’s no way they’d end it like that, right? He was awful to her!”
At this, you crack a smile. “Do you want to finish the movie, Jason?” A hint of satisfaction seeps into your tone.
He clears his throat. “…Maybe.”
You plop back down on the couch with a hum. He interlaces your fingers and kisses the back of your hand before redirecting his attention to the screen.
“Babe?” You ask.
“Hm?” He answers, not looking away from the movie.
“Do you own any flannels?”
SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOYYYYYYY
love when u leave messages and feedback it feeds my praise kink
for part one: cut to me sitting up in bed shrugging my shoulders over and over again to see which muscles it uses and if that coincides with the injuries i gave him to see if that action causing him pain makes sense (it was inconclusive so i made his injuries vague oopsie)
for part two: the bourne identity (2002) is a movie about a guy named jason who wakes up not knowing where or who he is and somehow has elite training in combat and surveillance, though he doesn't know where it's from. he runs around functioning on pure instinct to survive while getting bits of his memory back, remembering that whoever he worked for was cutthroat, expected him to obey no matter what, and forget the person he used to be before joining their mission. sound familiar?
for part three: cut to me genuinely tweaking while proofreading bc i let my friend read it and so rereading it, knowing that she read it, was so embarrassing. i was screaming into my pillow & it took 20 minutes to get through 2k words bc i had to keep taking breaks. not an exaggeration
If any of you saw me change the theme of my masterlist 5 times yesterday only to change it back to what it was before…no you didn’t
#jason todd#red hood#batman#red hood x reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x reader#nightwing#dick grayson#jason todd x you#batfamily#dc universe#dc comics#dcu#dc robin#robin#bruce wayne
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Text
Ain't no country boy quitter
MORE COWBOY/OUTLAW SEV
rating: E
warnings: smut, outlaw sevika, top sevika, rough sex, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, strap-on sex, praise, some descriptors used, BITING
WC: 2.3 k
this is part 2. part 1
Sleep is slowly starting to release its hold on you, control and sense of touch slowly returning to your body as you wake. You feel gentle presses to your neck along with little tickles of air. A few seconds later, you can recognize the feeling as Sevika kissing your neck. She feels the moment you wake up, feeling the shift in your breathing and heartbeat under her lips.
“Howdy,” you greet her, voice groggy from sleep.
Sevika chuckles into your skin. She hated being mistaken for a cowboy before you, any reference to the occupation made her roll her eyes. But you made her love it, made her want to buy a ranch and herd cattle sun-up till sundown. She already has a horse, so maybe the idea was close to reality and that made her happy.
“Mornin’, sugar. You need more sleep? Know I kept you up plenty last night,” she kisses into your neck. You hum a low moan, feeling her plush lips press onto your pulse.
“I was having a nice dream,” you muse.
“Yeah?”
“Was being kissed by an outlaw. Real pretty lady.” You're trying to flatter her though you don't need to. She's heard her name depart from your lips enough times last night to know what you think of her.
“Let's get you back to your dream, sugar,” she says, shifting up to press her lips to yours. She has the softest lips you've ever known, capable of expressing so much through their touch. She pulls herself in close and cups your cheek, her thumb gently, somehow lovingly, strokes your skin. You're still completely bare from last night's activities and her breasts caress yours. Still half-asleep, you weakly pull her in closer to you by her lower back. Your hand remains there, holding her to you.
The two of you meld together in the kiss, bodies and souls feeling light. You want to make this moment last forever, stay like this for however long you can. But eventually you have to separate from her to breathe.
“Can this be the type of dream where you melt into me?” you propose, knowing she can make the impossible possible.
Sevika kisses your cheek, "It's your dream, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.” You try to think it over but all you can focus on is how wonderful her touch is. Her skin radiates warmth and comfort.
“Is there anything you want?” you ask her, unable to decide.
“I want what you want,” she answered simply.
“You really know how to put on the charm, cowboy.”
“I’m dead serious sugar, I’m all about pleasure. Need to satisfy you.” Her hand leaves your face, trailing down your neck and collarbone. She returns to the kiss, her large, plump lips covering yours. Your breath hitches as she paws at your tit. She gropes your breasts, devouring each of your moans into her mouth. All of your reactions fuel her, make her entire body buzz with passion and excitement.
Your hips grind against nothing, seeking stimulation. She shifts to press her thigh between your legs and your thighs immediately spread to welcome her. The kiss grows hungrier as you grind against her, tenderness replaced with lust.
Your arousal is leaking onto her thigh and it helps you grind faster against her. Sevika flexes her thigh and you feel it on your clit. Your hand on her back clenches and your fingernails press into her skin. You almost miss it but she lets out a short whimper. The sound goes right to your nervous system, lighting all your nerves and your spine and your brain. You need more. You dig your nails into her skin and she fully moans into your mouth.
“Dammit, sugar. You figured out my secret,” she chuckles. She loves being marked, bitten, scratched, having her hair pulled. Any evidence that she made you feel so good that you can't help but tear away at her.
“I was hopin’ you'd like it a little rough,” you giggle, you loved her gentleness and sweetness from last night but you need this woman to ruin you. You need her to fuck you until you only know two words, ‘please’ and her name.
“How rough do you want me?” She's testing your limits, needing to know exactly what she needs to do to make you fall apart for her. She needs to give you the most perfect blend of pleasure.
“I don't want you to hurt me but I want you to push my limits. Something just tells me you know how to make me scream your name until I forget it,” you challenge.
“That I can do,” she smirks, pressing one last peck to your lips. She presses kisses down your jaw then moves down to your throat. She pinches your nipple, trying to get you to react. Your reaction is better than she hoped, moaning and grinding harder onto her thigh. Kissing your neck as you moan is a delight Sevika wishes she had known sooner. She moves her lips over to the other side of your neck, her tongue licks your skin as she starts placing hickeys onto you. Each suck onto your skin makes your body jolt and cunt pulse with arousal.
Her lips begin to trail down to your collarbone. Sevika is in no hurry in her path and it makes you shiver. She lets out a low growl as she hears you moan and places more hickeys against your skin. Your breasts are all she can focus on, taking mouthful after mouthful of your softness into her mouth. Sucking marks not even an inch apart then kissing them over. She tweaks your nipples every now and again, getting all her favorite reactions from you.
“Sevika,” you groan. She separates from your breast, looking up to see your eyes pleading with her for more. You push her head down, trying to shove her between your legs. Well, Sevika is less shoved and more following your directions, allowing you to think you have the strength to move her.
She settles between your thighs, turning her head away from where you want it. You had no clue that asking her to push your limits would translate to teasing but you trusted she knew what she was doing.
She kisses the inside of your thighs, which are quivering with want. Every time she gets close enough to your entrance, her lips move away. She switches back and forth between your right and left thigh, working the stimulation up before she devours you.
“You are a treasure,” she sighs against your inner thigh, her breath tickles your heated skin.
Sevika ceases her teasing, parting your folds with her tongue. Each stroke pushes heavy moans out your mouth. Sevika can't think of anything better than this. You filled all her senses. Your taste on her tongue and musk filling her nose. Your thighs squeezing her head. Your pubic hairs tickled her nose and some stuck in her mouth. Your desperate pleas above her for more are the sweetest sound she'll ever hear. Your beautiful eyes are blinking down at her, fighting to stay open as she slips two fingers into you.
“Please please fuck.. Sevika,” you whine as her fingers begin to fuck you.
Her movements are stronger and more forceful than last night and your cunt is grateful, drooling onto her in appreciation. She's attuned to every twitch of your muscles, adjusting to each little reaction, desperate to please. When your cunt squeezes her fingers, she strokes your sweet spot faster to make you clench harder. You grip a fistful of her hair to tug it and she groans against you. The sharp pain is fuel to her desire.
It's brutish by Sevika's standards, how she locks her mouth onto your clit to suck on it while driving her fingers into you. She's learned the exact pressure you need to cum and she goes over that limit. Sevika reaches a rhythm, tending to your clit with an earned amount of knowledge. You rock your hips toward her, desperate for more of her ferocity.
Her fingers will not slow down until you've cum and you don't have far to go. You don't hear that her moans turned into growls, resounding from deep in her throat. She's ready for you to fall apart, pouring herself entirely into pleasuring you. You clench around her again and she increases the pressure on your g-spot.
Your orgasm is slow, it spreads across your body from where the concentration is highest. Your body is a conduit, dispersing the heat until you're covered in its comfort. All her teasing proves it's worth, making your orgasm plateau higher than usual. She removes her fingers and mouth from you when your orgasm is through.
“Be right back, hon,” she says, giving you a quick kiss then leaves the bed to retrieve a couple items. She finds her hat on the floor, discarded from last night. She sets it onto her head and you giggle at your sweet outlaw. She retrieves her strap-on and steps into the harness.
“Don't ever wake me up from this dream,” you sigh, watching her tighten the straps onto her hips. Sevika is almost too perfect to be true, so handsome and pretty and charming.
“Sugar, I'm starting to think this is my dream,” she admits, appreciating the vision of loveliness laying on her bed. She joins you on the bed, covering your body with hers.
“This is the only thing I'll ask you for. If I'm making you feel good, please tell me. If you're lovin’ how I make you feel… Can you bite me, scratch me, or pull my hair? And if you hate the idea, just say no,” she offers. If she is going to be rough with you, you have full permission to be twice as rough back. Her fingers gather some of your cum dripping from your cunt, then she spreads it over her dick.
“How hard? Don't wanna hurt my favorite cowboy.”
“As hard as you need, sweetheart. You ain't gon’ harm me,” she confirms. Sevika shifts her hips and the firm tip of her dick pressed against your slit. She pushes in at a comfortable speed, watching your cunt swallow her inch by inch. The feeling of her entering takes your breath.
“Breathe, darlin’,” she encourages, and you force your chest to fill with air.
When you've taken a couple healthy breaths she starts her thrusts. She goes at a comfortable pace, fucking her entire length into you with pauses between each push. You wrap your legs around her hips and pull her entirely into you.
“Not to question your methods but I'm ready for you to ruin me. Push my limits,” you permit, allowing her freedom to fuck you roughly.
“My apologies, I was wantin’ to find that limit before making a bastard of it.”
She harshens her movement, fucking harder and faster. Nowhere near her full strength but you wouldn't know the difference at the moment. You could only let out choked gasps as she thrusted into you, somehow pushing even deeper than before. Each stroke was hard and precise, her dick insistent with every plunge into you. You’re looking at her wide-eyed while she fucks you and she loves it. Loves how your eyes just plead for more as she ruins you. Sevika feels all your pleasure heat her body. It brought her pleasure.
“You make me feel so good,” she groans, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“Fuck, f-fuck… you feel s'good,” you try to echo but your words are stuttered.
Sevika is overwhelmed with the need to be sweet to you, it's who she is. She's a proper gentlewoman but she also needs to fulfill your wants. She keeps her harsh pace but kisses you gently on the cheek, whispering sweet nothings into your skin.
“I could stay here forever with you. Nothing else exists right now.”
Another kiss to your cheek paired with a particularly hard thrust.
“You're like a dream come true.”
More kisses to your cheek and her mechanical hand reaches down to swipe your clit.
“You're beautiful, absolutely beautiful.”
Her kisses shift to your tightly shut eyelids and her hand works circles over your clit.
“Sev! Keep fucking me! Keep fucking me!” you chant, close from her relentless fucking and sweet words.
In losing your mind to her fucking you, you forgot that she asked you to bite her if you love how she makes you feel. You turn your head to wrap your teeth around any flesh you can find. You experimentally bite at her jaw, hard enough to feel the flesh give.
“Harder,” Sevika whimpers, her voice is like you've never heard it before. It's light and airy as she breathes out the request. You bite harder onto her and her moan comes from deep within her, probably the deepest you've ever heard from her. Knowing you did that to her pushes you from close to right on the edge. One more thrust from her and you're falling. You move your mouth from her jaw to her neck, needing more flesh to anchor into. You don't think about how hard you're biting her, only that you're communicating your orgasm through it.
“Shit! I'm cumming. You're making me fucking cum,” she wails, her hips are stuttering and breaking their pace. A few more thrusts and her body goes limp atop yours. She's crushing you but it's the best feeling in the world. It's the most you've felt of her and you still need more. You recover before she does, stroking her cheek from where her head rests by yours.
“I need you closer,” you whisper to her.
“Don't see how I can get any closer, sugar,” she mumbles, still not recovered from her orgasm.
“I need you so close. Want you to crawl inside my chest and lay down right next to my heart. I need you that close,” you tell her. It might be a bit grotesque and odd but you mean it. She's never going to be close enough to you. Even with her still buried inside you and her weight pressing you into the bed, she'll never be close enough.
taglist
@archangeldyke-all @geewillikers80085 @maneskinwh0re @sevikellsss
divider by @cafekitsune
#sevika smut#sevika x reader#sevika x you#arcane sevika x reader#sevika x y/n#sevika fic#i love sevika#soft sevika because i cant stop writing her
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