#vetty's works. ✿
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
onlyyvette · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
★ DAY 2 - face-fucking | beel
Tumblr media Tumblr media
kinktober 2023 - masterlist.
Tumblr media
warnings: top/dom reader + sub/bottom beel + amab reader + face-fucking + praise + cum-swallowing + a few "good boy"s thrown in + beel does not have a gag reflex + and would definitely cum untouched
a/n: ngl I still feel like kms WHY IS TUMBLR SO ANNOYING...also I headcanon that beel has sharp teeth<3
Tumblr media
"T-that's a good by. You're doing so-ngh, well for me." Your words would have sounded almost so gentle and innocent had it not been for the strain in your voice and the lewd scene in front of you. Your demonic boyfriend that you loved oh-so-much was currently on his knees, sucking the ever-lasting life out of your dick.
"Mhhhn..." Beel had a dazed look on his flushed face, his purple eyes glassy as if he was barely aware of his surroundings other than the huge cock inside of his mouth. As his mouth kept moving up and down your length, so did his dextrous tongue, nearly coiling around your shaft. And the way that he was slightly dragging his fang on your dick just how he knew you liked it---fuck it was driving you crazy.
"Nghh...hmmm..." Beel moaned deeply as he kept taking you into his mouth, as far as he could go. The both of you knew that he could easily cum from only giving you oral and he wouldn't hesitate to do so. At first, Beel was content with you asking him once in a short while to blow you, as he loved pleasing his partner. But the more he did it, it was like the more he got addicted to the fullness of his mouth when occupied with your dick, the scent you give off, and the feeling of your cum spurt down his mouth. He went from waiting for you to ask his to suck you off to coming up to you nearly everyday and unapologetically asking for you to shove your cock down his throat.
While your lover continued to deepthroat you like his life depended on it, you savored the feeling of Beel's throat and tongue working up and down your shaft. Not only was he eager-- he was skilled. He knew exactly what to do, taking your dick all the way down so it nestles in his throat, that sinful togue doing wonders as it snakes around your cock, lingering on the places he knew you were most sensitive. You could positively say they were the best blowjobs you had ever received in your life.
"You're doing s-so fucking good for me baby, just keep going..." you groan as Beel continues to suck you off with fervor. When he looks up at you upon hearing your praise, you felt like you were going to melt seeing the lewd look of satisfaction on his face. You can't help but bury your hand in his ginger hair and begin hammering your dick into his throat.
"MmhHHM---" Beel's eyes widen when you unexpectedly begin to thrust your dick down your throat. In mere seconds, his original sound of muffled surprise became moans of appreciation. You continued to buck your hips into his tight throat, relishing in the tight heat you knew you would have to leave soon. Beel keens as he feels you forcing your huge dick down his throat. As his eyes begin to roll back into his skull, he realizes that he had came, no stimulation other than your cock pressing on all the parts of his throat.
Beel's warm, never-ending heat enveloped your dick as his tongue danced along you shaft. Yet it was one last kitten lick to a prominent vein on the underside of your dick that had you coming undone. "Fuck, cumming...!" You thrust into Beel's throat one more time, holding his head against your pelvis, forcing him to swallow all your cum into his greedy throat. He whimpers softly as he feels your seed go down his throat, to deep for him to be able to taste. Though when you finally start to pull out, he catches a few strands of your cum onto his tongue and some of it gets onto his lips. He wipes it off of his lips and licks his fingers clean, mouth wide open as he puts on a show for you.
You were never going to get over your boyfriend's blowjobs.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
superkitten-poison · 2 months ago
Text
to me velvette doesnt lie about *being bisexual* for attention but she lies about being bisexual *for attention*. like admitting to being attracted to women would make her a dyke and manly and f/f relationships dont even count bc her internalized misogyny goes so crazy she subconsicounsly does not see women as full people and needs men to validate her own personhood, and since men hold most of the power, surrounding herself with men is in fact a means to power. so one way she feels she Can have sexual contact with women is through excuses: it's for attention, for convenience, as a power play. but never because of her own desires and it can never mean anything. can you imagine? two women in a loving relationship. who would want to see that?
20 notes · View notes
joeloverture · 9 months ago
Text
WE SHOULDNT HAVE TO GENTLE PARENT YOU ON AI USAGE.
you might think your usage of ai is inconsequential. it is not. every photo, word, painting, etc that you send to open ai or whatever the fuck goes towards furthering the success of ai.
people spend HOURS on their fics. to not only hijack the concept but to simultaneously take LINES that writers pour their hearts into and just slap some half assed coding onto it so you can fuck nasty with a ROBOT??? loser cuck 40-year-old virgin behavior.
31 notes · View notes
aretrothing · 3 months ago
Text
please stay safe tonight everyone
2 notes · View notes
papurgaatika · 3 months ago
Text
Scarcely Can Speak For My Thinking, What You’d Do To Me Tonight
Pairing: VA! Joel Miller x f! reader 
Minors DNI with my work please!!
A/N: howdy howdy my lovelies. I know what yall are thinking: papaya didn't you post a fic literally less than two weeks ago? And to that I would say yes, yes I did. However, I have been working on this one for a while and somehow managed to finish it on the plane! Thank you as always to my lovely beta readers @carlynkurin and @joelsdagger The title is a Hozier lyric (are yall really surprised?) This is officially dedicated to my beloved @joeloverture and despite my darling vetty's step off of tumblr, she truly deserves the world. also if you're mean to her i will find you. that is a threat
I hope y'all enjoy the read, and that the filth keeps you going in times of need. Peace and love on the planet Earth from me!!! Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!!
Tags: Erotic voice actor Joel! AU, Young Joel, No outbreak AU, smut, condescension, degradation, f! masturbation, praise, squirting, smut, LOTS of dirty talk, oral (f receiving) friends to lovers, fingering, voice kink, Joel loves thighs, Joel Miller arm appreciation, the reader is a mess, no use of y/n, Joel can pick reader up but he’s HUGE so it makes sense, no description of reader, 18+ Word Count: 5.2k
Summary: you have been using audio erotica to get off for a month, and manage to accidentally let it play in Joel's car, leading to an awkward night in 
Tumblr media
You let out an exhausted huff as the dim light of your phone reflected on your face. Your headphones connected, your vibrator was charged, but in some godforsaken twist of fate, there was not a single thing worth listening to on the newest audio erotica page you could find. Videos hadn’t been doing it for you, the ethical concerns were too high for you to be horny, and as much as you liked a good fanfic, you had gone through most of the ones you liked and needed something new.  You click on a post with semi intriguing tags, immediately rolling your eyes and exiting out of it when you hear the all too familiar vocal fry of men trying to sound hotter. News flash: you don't. 
You were moments away from calling it a night and opening your backlog of smutty ao3 fics when another post caught your eye. You let out a snort at the username save_a_horse and glance at the tags. Okay you were definitely interested now, a degrading instructional… you hit play with baited breath, prepping for the worst, but you were so mistaken. 
“Filthy little thing aint ya?” the voice rings in your ears, heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly quickly. “Must be so pathetic if you’re clicking on a mean stranger's voice to get ya’self off” his voice was like hot honey. Sickly sweet and keeping you waiting for his every word but with an edge that stung in the best way. You shuffle yourself back onto the pillows and throw your covers off, fully prepared to enjoy this rare gem. Your breathing picks up, heavy with want as the man in your ears calls you a desperate little slut. 
“Go on, get your toy wet slut” his voice croons out at you “know ya have one, too fuckin�� needy not to.'' Always eager to please, your lips find the base of your curved g-spot vibrator and let the soft plastic fill your mouth, drawing sounds that were almost too debauched for you to be sitting in bed alone. “Bet you love havin your mouth filled like that.. Lord, I'd love to have your pretty little lips around my cock” your eyes practically roll back at that, spit running down the base of your toy before he finally tells you to put it in.  
“Atta girl, such an eager thing” The toy sinks into your sopping cunt with ease as the voice envelops your mind, solely focusing on him. You listen with intense obedience as he tells you how deep, how quick, how much you were allowed. “Go on then, fuck yourself on it. We both know you want to” 
You let out a soft cry as you slip the toy in and out, the curve just hitting the spot that makes your back arch. Your breathing hitches as you press down on the button to turn the vibrations on. “Creamin’ all over yourself I bet,” it was like he could see you. Like he was able to see your arousal dripping onto the sheets below you, how the damp sheets clung to your thighs as they shook and twitched with pleasure. 
“Bet you’re so damn close.. Go on then slut, cum while listenin’ to me'' he taunts slightly as your orgasm washes over you in waves. “Gonna ruin ya,” his words are assertive, less of a promise and almost a threat “ain’t gonna cum unless it's to my voice anymore. Good fuckin’ girl”  You take a few steadying breaths as the audio clicks off, and you blink up at your ceiling unsure of how to go on from there. You glance down at your phone which has made its way to the opposite side of your bed and move to grab it.
You hit play on another audio. 
As the weeks go on, you and the mysterious cowboy in your ears have an immensely good time together. You practically spend every night listening to every one of his audios, leaving silly comments on the ones that make you cum particularly hard. It might have been an issue, how often you found yourself waiting for him to upload, how quickly you would pause your tasks to listen to new updates, but you were having fun and it wasn’t like you were hurting anyone in the process. 
You had just finished an audio before the blaring noise of a horn outside your door rattled you. The clock on your phone taunts you as do the several missed calls and texts from your best friend. “Fuck. fuck okay” you grumble, grabbing a towel and wiping yourself off before tossing a pair of comfy shorts on and grabbing your bag, and heading outside “have you never heard of a virtue called patience miller?” you quip as you slide into the passenger seat of his truck 
“Had it for the first five minutes, but about 10 minutes after that, I was damn ready to break your door down myself” he scoffs “what took you so damn long?” he rolls his eyes as you fiddle with the bluetooth in his car, not wanting to be stuck with what you call ���old home music’ 
“I was just finishi-” your words are cut off when the sound of a moan plays over the speaker. Just your luck. You kept the grumpiest man alive waiting and then played porn in his car. Hooray for you. “Jesus fucking-” you squeak, fiddling with your phone and closing out of the app “Joel-” you start, cheeks burning and excuses already at the tip of your tongue, before he silently shakes his head and puts the car in reverse. 
The ride back to his house is awkward to say the least. “Joel listen I didn't mean for-” you mumble out meekly, but his sharp gaze on yours has you clamping your mouth closed immediately. You fiddle with your fingers, thinking about playing music, but it just doesn’t feel right anymore. The grip Joel has on the steering wheel is practically iron-clad, his knuckles almost white with the tension as he pulls into his driveway and puts the car in park. You walk into his house with a huff, your weekly game nights off to a bit of a rocky start, but you’ve had to deal with worse with him. Joel had given you moral support when your menstrual cup had gotten “stuck” during one of your first times using it, he could deal with knowing you listened to porn. 
You plop down onto his couch, stretching your legs out on the coffee table while he gets you a glass of iced tea. You take a sip of your drink and mentally prepare yourself for how bad he was going to tease you about this, but are met with shocking amounts of silence. For a man who is ruthless on game nights, the lack of trash talk and absolute avoidance was almost irritating you. Finally, after you beat him in uno for a third time in a row, you snap “What is your issue tonight miller?” you groan, placing a +2 card down “Listen I know that was awkward but we’re both adults I don't see what the big deal is'' 
Joel groans and places another +2, changing the color (much to your annoyance,) “just drop it, nothin’s the issue”  You, petulant and stubborn as ever, did not drop it. You huff as you have to take like 5 cards from the deck before getting one that you can play, and narrow your eyes at him. 
“Bullshit” you move to sit cross-legged on the couch “I never beat you in this game, something is wrong with you tonight,”  it was almost as if nobody had ever taught you not to poke a sleeping bear. Or maybe you figured that the bear was your best friend and probably wouldn't bite your head off… probably. 
“Just drop it peaches,” his words are terse, hands gripping his, now slowly diminishing, uno cards much tighter than he needed to. You groan again when you have to get another few cards. The irritation at his childish behavior, coupled with the stack of 20 cards in your hand makes you more of a menace than you probably should. 
“Don't be such a baby, Miller,” you poke his leg with your foot knowing full well he hates it, a yelp leaving your lips as he grabs your ankle and pulls you forward “Joel!” Your cards fly out of your hand 
“Told you to fuckin’ quit it peach.” His voice is a low timber, stirring something deep in your belly. “Never fuckin’ listen to me” 
You just snort at him when he releases your ankle, moving to pick up your cards, “you suck at uno today Joel” you hmph, rising to your feet “'m gonna get something else” you hear Joel protest and try to grab at your arm but you’re too determined and he’s far too comfy to get up quick enough.  You manage to make it to his spare room, swinging the door open, imagining you’d see a shelf with his board games only to stop dead in your tracks, “what the fuck-”
What you had always assumed was just his spare junk room or random linen closet, was what looked like an at home recording studio. A desk with a PC and speakers, full microphone set up, and what you could only assume was something to help with soundproofing  “What the fuck Miller?” Your voice is slightly full of awe, “are you recording shitty male superiority podcasts now?” you tease, a sly grin on your face. 
Despite how pleased you are with that crack at him, he looks absolutely unamused. He practically clomps over at you, big finger poking your ribs ``you know damn well I ain't doin’ that shit.” He rolls his eyes at your teasing. The idea of Joel Miller getting on the internet to talk about women in a way that wasn't him sitting at his desk going ‘they’re the best damn thing’ was laughable. He was a perfect gentleman to everyone, except maybe to you, but frankly you deserved it for all the shit you gave him. 
You squeak when his finger prods at your skin “okay, okay well what creepy shit are you doing in here then?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him, sauntering to his PC set up. The computer and speakers were calling out to you like a siren, and you did not have the common sense to plug your ears. 
Joel knew you. He could read you like a fucking book with how close the two of you were. He used to say that the one braincell you had spent fifty percent of its time inside his mind with how predictable you were to him. “Peach do not fuckin’ dare-” his voice is low, warning you. 
If you had better self preservation skills you would have probably heard the alarm bells ringing in your head telling you that he was serious, or paid better attention to the way his sweats were a little more tight. But you unfortunately were a complete menace, so neither of those items really registered to you. You clap your hands in an evil little giggle when you move the mouse “still no password? Shit you make my life so fucking easy-” you grin as you see the different clips of audio layered together in whatever program he uses 
Joel has somehow silently appeared behind you, his hand pulling you away from the computer. “Quit it peach, I’m not fuckin’ around,” he grits out, the hold on your wrist almost impossibly tight. He means business this time, and despite how much of a hellion you can be to him, you didn’t have a death wish. 
You scrunch your nose at him trying to pull your wrist out of his grip “okay jesus chri-” you yank your hand away from his, elbow bumping into the keyboard and are cut off with the sound of a gravely moan coming out of the speaker. Both you and Joel look like deer caught in the headlights. Your eyes flick between Joel, whose face has gone impressively red, and the screen of his computer.  “I- joel this is-” you stumble over your words, unsure of what to say in this situation. 
“Not a fuckin’ peep.” he practically growls at you. Your mouth clamps shut as he leans over you and presses pause on the audio. Your mouth is drier than it had ever been. That was a clip of your best friend, the one who was looming over you at this very moment, moaning into a microphone. You were certain that if you had listened any closer you would have been able to hear the sounds of his hand stroking his cock. The slight creak of his chair, the wet noise of the lube, or was he a spit guy? He however, was not interested in sharing any more of the audio with you, and you would deny it if anyone asked, you were a little disappointed. 
You need to say something, you had to, and despite your better judgment telling you not to, you do. “I mean you sound nice-” You sound nice?? You were so fucking ridiculous, even you knew that wasn’t the thing to say. Joel’s eyes darken at your words, and for a moment you fear he’s going to kick you out, to get truly pissed off at you for the first time since you finished his Dr. Pepper stash.  “I didn't mean-” you try to backtrack “I just meant- it... You sounded like you were enjoying yourself at least-'' you were actively digging the hole that you were in deeper, rambling and stuttering, all while Joel just stared at you silently, his eyes burning into you
You swallow hard, his eyes still not leaving yours “listen I can go I'm sorry I shouldn't have-” you go to make a beeline out of the room but a firm hand pulling you back into the chair stops you. You fall back with an oof and look up at Joel, who by all accounts looked pissed but there was something else. His pupils were blown and his eyes trace every single one of your movements. The bear had managed to lock in the own cage you had set out for him. 
“Didn't tell you to leave.” he practically grunts at you. Ladies and gentlemen, your best friend, always the most well spoken person in the room. You move to protest again, but the look he gives you stops the words before they even form on your tongue.  you bite your lip and fiddle with your fingers unsure what to do “think I sound nice peaches?” his voice cuts through the anxious rambling in your brain and you're almost certain you've heard him wrong 
“Huh?” you look back up at him through your lashes. He was leaning against the wall where his microphone was set up. His sweats were riding low on his hips and his hoodie covered the toned muscles of his arms, that if anyone asked you had never stared at. The tanned skin you never dared to fantasize about in your bed. The hair that covered his arms, the veins that often made more appearances when you asked forced him to do manual labor that you refused to do yourself. 
“Asked if you think I sound nice, Peaches?” he hums, raising a questioning brow at you. your mouth opens and closes ridiculously a few times before you simply just nod at him  “that's good..” he muses as he comes back up to you “do you think about me?” he prods, a patronizing pout on his lips as you gape up at him. “when you're listening to those dirty little audios and lettin’ your fingers touch that needy cunt?”  you can't help but squeak at his words. the way he said them, the way he spoke was just so… familiar  “come on, pretty peach, tell daddy what you think about when you're fingering that slutty little pussy” he practically grins at you and it fucking clicks. 
Daddy. Daddy. It was him. The stupid cowboy, the random man whose voice sent your tummy into knots, the one who had been getting you off for weeks now was your best friend.  “Joel-” you practically whimper at him. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest and also very distinctly between your legs. “Listen i didn’t know it was you-” there’s a shit eating smirk on his face, one that you would have told him to wipe off his face before you smack it off in any other scenario. 
“No?” he hums at you, his brow quirked up as he towers over you in that stupid recording chair “didn't know it was me when you were commenting all those pretty little reviews?” You whimper out a noise, somewhere between a no and a general sound of timidity, as his hand tilts your chin up to meet his eyes  “Lemme see if I can remember what it was you said before I got you in the car today peach?” he takes a moment to obnoxiously tap his forehead mocking the way you recall things “what was it you said? ‘This made me late to see my friend, but it also made me ruin my sheets’? Was that it peaches?” 
You take a shaky breath, your skin burning under his intense gaze, chin still in his hands. You nod softly at his question, knowing that if you didn't, he would just push you until you did. His grin turns wolfish at your confirmation, and you feel him shift his legs between yours, pushing them apart “yeah peach?” he tuts at you “made me wait for almost 20 minutes outside your house. just so you could cum to my voice… ain’t real nice of you” You take a wobbly breath at his words and try to reply, unsure of what you would even say. An apology maybe, an explanation? But before you can even move to open your mouth he’s cutting you off again 
“Woulda just given you the real thing baby,” he tuts at you “all you had to do was ask.'' His voice is low and almost condescending. You shouldn’t let it turn you on, you should tell him to fuck off, but you feel yourself gush at his tone, your bottom lip getting caught between you teeth. He whistles at the look on your face, his cock practically straining against his sweats, “bet you’re just creamin’ in those slutty little shorts baby'' his words aren’t a question, he’s stating it like he can read you like a book because he knows he can. His legs shift to press your legs further apart until your knees are bumping into the arm rests, your eyes unwavering from his.
Your breath is caught in your throat as he leans down to you, his lips pressed up by one of your ears “Listen to me like this peaches?” he whispers into your ear, a warm breath making you shiver before he moves to the other side “like having me in your ears with your legs spread?” 
“Yes.. fuck yes yes I do-” your words are rushed and lustful as you feel his hands dip into the waistband of your panties. Your hips jolt up into his touch, panties absolutely drenched with your arousal. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, lips parting with a silent cry of pleasure. 
“Knew she’d be droolin’ all over” he hums as he brings his slick covered finger up to his lips and tastes you with delectable pop when he pulls off. “Tastes like I fuckin’ imagined. Like a fuckin’ peach” he groans and for a moment you swear you could cum just like that. 
“Shit Joel please-” he cuts you off with a shake of his head and a shushing noise, as he steps away from you. Your legs are still spread against the chair and you practically whine when he moves away from you, flicking on his recording set up. “Joel what-” he shushes you again, giving you a look that leaves no room for argument. 
“Quiet,” he mumbles, fiddling with the mic and pulling the rolling chair closer to it. “Like listenin’ to me so much, thought i’d use you for better effects. You okay with that peaches?” he asks, looking down at you. Despite the teasing and the mockery, you knew he would stop if you told him you didn't want it. But the idea of him stopping, even for a moment was going to make you explode. You nod, maybe too eagerly for someone about to get fucked on microphone, and he grins. 
“God always knew you were fuckin’ desperate for it” he kneels between your legs, and you stifle a giggle when his knees pop.  “Quit it you menace” He swats at your thigh playful smirk on his lips, making you jump slightly. “Gotta stay real quiet for me, understand?” you watch with bated breath as he moves the mic so it rests delicately in the tension filled space between your spread thighs and his face. 
You nod, lips parted, pupils blown, cunt practically dripping for him. He lets out a soft hum of approval, lips pressing a soft kiss to your thighs “nothing fuckin’ softer than a pair of soft thighs” he muses, half to himself, half to you and the mic “could just live between them forever, die happy if a girl pretty as a peach would let me bury my face there.” You feel yourself clench around nothing, feeling maddeningly empty all of a sudden. You shift to try to gain some friction, the chair giving a slight creak at the change in position. Joel looks up and glares at you, your body going still immediately under the intensity of his eyes. 
He sticks his hand out behind him, pausing the microphone from recording. “You need to stay. still.” he grits out at you “don't need the whole internet hearing how much of a desperate little thing you are.” You nod at his words, hands gripping the armrests so hard your knuckles turn white. He flicks the mic back on and his lips find your thighs again. Nipping and kissing the soft flesh just below the hem of your shorts. He slides his hands further up, popping the button open and you have to bite down on your fist not to moan when he drags the zipper down with his teeth. He shimmies you out of your shorts, leaving your bottom half clad in your embarrassingly wet panties. 
He lets out a growl at the sight of your cunt, clothed and practically dripping for him. “Look at her… practically creaming already and I ain’t even touched you yet” He lets his thumb press against the wet spot the slight pressure just barely teasing your sopping hole dragging a breathy sigh out of you. You look down at him, eyes hooded and lips parting, practically begging for him without uttering a damn word. 
He looks up at you as he slides your panties to the side, blowing a stream of cold air straight onto your clit, making you jump. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy…” he practically salivates at the sight of you “nothin’ fucking better than seein’ a drippy, needy, little cunt in front of me…” he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, right next to where you want him, where you need his lips 
You feel a shiver run down your spine at his words. Somehow it felt filthier being able to see the look on his face, the absolute need he had to taste you. The grip he had on your thighs was bruisingly tight, not helping your arousal die down in the slightest. His mouth finally finds your slit, tongue licking a hot wet stripe at an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a guttural moan and practically salivates at the taste of you. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet” he groans, tongue dipping back down to taste more of your slick. One of your hands leaves the armrest of the chair and moves to cover your mouth when his lips place three gentle kisses around your clit before relenting and wrapping his lips around the aching bud, with a quiet hum. 
You bite down on your hand to stifle the moans threatening to spill, desperate and eager to please him. Your thighs shake when he slips a finger into your dripping cunt and curls them to hit that spot. He lets out a chuckle, lips still sucking on your clit. The vibrations of his warm breath on your aching clit elicited a desperate wine from your mouth, despite how hard you were trying to be quiet for him “Ffffuck-” 
He raises a brow at you, not even pulling away from your skin, his baby eyes just gazing at you from between your legs as his fingers work at you. Your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth in an effort to stop your sounds, but your attempts seem futile as your climax starts to draw near. Joel slips a second finger inside of you with embarrassing ease, the sound of his fingers curling inside you, joined only by your soft little breaths and his lips on your clit. His fingers stretch you in ways your fingers never have, scissoring and sliding inside of you with practiced precision. “Atta fuckin’ girl..” he growls as your toes curl instinctively, heels digging into his shoulder blades as the coil inside of you finally snaps. You feel yourself gush on his fingers, your thighs clamping around his head as he works you through it “squirtin’ all over daddy’s face huh like the needy thing you are.” 
He pulls your legs off from his legs and hits save on the audio, before glancing back at you with a smirk. “Ain’t posting that anywhere..” he whispers, the gentleness a shocking turn around from the filth he whispered to you earlier. Your breath is still coming out in shaky pants, looking up at him through hazy lids “keepin’ that all to myself” he hums, pressing a little kiss on your head. 
He scoops you up like you’re a ragdoll and practically clomps over to his bedroom, throwing you onto the bed. His fingers work deftly at the tie of his sweats, pushing them off. You squeak softly when you see the trail of hair going down his pelvis, the lack of boxers making heat rise to your chest. You work your top off, while he throws his hoodie across the room, a guttural groan leaving his mouth as he sees your breasts. “Fuckin’ perfect..'' His words aren’t necessarily for you, his thoughts just find themselves being voiced aloud. His calloused hands grope and knead at the softness of your tits before he presses wet kisses to each of your nipples. “Need to be inside ya” he practically begs, cock hard against his stomach leaking pre-cum. 
You could salivate at the sight, hell you truly might have a little bit. “Fuck me, Daddy, need you to fuck me Joel, please i can be good im ready, I'm on the pill-” your words were babbled, fast and rushed together, your intense desire for the man in front of you the only thing your brain could comprehend. Your legs part on the bed, your arousal dripping down your thighs calling to him like flowers call to a honeybee. 
“Christ, baby,” he groans before grabbing your legs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. He fists his cock and slides it through your aching pussy, both of you letting out simultaneous cries of shit when your wetness coats his length. He slides into you with gentle thrusts, letting you adjust to his size slowly, before sinking in all the way with a soft whimper “take me so good…” his words are quiet and breathless, almost as if he was in awe of how your body made room for him. 
“Oh my god-” you cry out, your hands fisting in the dark sheets under your skin. “so fucking big joel..” you clench around him, body on fire with how good he felt inside you, with how perfect it was. It was like you were made to take him like this. His thrusts get faster and your legs curl around his waist, pulling him in as deep as you possibly could. The feeling of his hand pressing on your lower stomach has you arching your back into his touch. 
“Perfect fucking thing,” he grits huskier than usual, with a thrust that knocks the air from your lungs. “Feel me peaches?” he thrusts into you again and presses on your tummy “right fuckin’ there.. Right where I god damn belong…” his words were lust filled and hazy, his own need and orgasm clouding all judgment. Your hips roll against his, the coarse hair brushing up against you, and your head lolls back into the mattress as his thrusts get sloppier. 
“Inside, Joel fuck-” you whimper at him, eyes wide and pleading as your second orgasm builds in the pits of your belly “please cum inside me, wanna feel you please..” for a moment he swears he’s died and gone to heaven. The sounds of your pretty little moans and begging are like a dream come true for him. He just nodded and shifted so he was practically cradling your body under his, cock buried so deep inside you that you knew you’d be feeling it for days afterward. 
He grinds his hips lazily against yours while his thrusts are shallow and pointed. Your legs shake while you meet his lips in a sloppy kiss, all tongue and teeth as you both fall apart practically molded together. “Jesus christ-” his breathing is ragged and hoarse “takin’ me so damn good, gonna fuckin’ fill you up” he gives a few more thrusts before he pulls out of your quivering pussy, your own orgasm sending stars into your eyes. 
You both stay like that for a moment, Joel's forehead resting softly on your shoulder as his cum spills out onto his bed. You shift softly to pull him next to you and curl into his touch, giving him a cheeky smile as you tilt his face to meet your eyes. “You…” a breathless little laugh escapes your lips “how long did you know I was commenting on your posts?” you ask softly, brows raised at him. 
He snorts at the question and flicks your forehead gently, earning a playful pout to be thrown in his direction. “Bout damn near two weeks ago” he replies, classic shit eating grin plastered to his face. “Figured it was you when you came over lookin’ like you’d won the damn Powerball and some little fan called peaches_and_cream left a comment about cummin’ three times to one damn post” you let out a muffled groan and bury your head into his chest, mumbling something about him being an asshole before you both shift into a comfortable silence. 
He moves, patting your hip and telling you to go use the bathroom after a few minutes, preaching his favorite safe sex speech and you roll your eyes at him before you saunter over to his bathroom. “Oh and Joel-” you call out before you walk in, eyes meeting his as he waits for you to finish your sentence “send me that audio, would ya?” 
A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free
READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. Silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist.
PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS. 
Thank you for reading, and free Palestine
341 notes · View notes
gummygoatgalaxy · 6 months ago
Text
Nettie and Vettie
Tumblr media
Meet Nanette and Yvette Gadwaller, twin sisters that live and work on their dad's farm, which is the main produce provider for Duckburg and most specifically, McDuck Manor
I designed Nanette for my bestie @phoofoz
I plan to do so much with these 2!!
97 notes · View notes
into-the-hellaverse · 9 months ago
Text
Spoiled
Proofread and co-written with my lovely mutual, @razzle-n-dazzle
○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○
Vox groaned as his monitor vibrated and beeped, sounding off his alarm to get up. He started to sit up, before getting smacked in the face by Valentino, who was still deep in dreamland and had no intention of getting up at the ever-so early hour of 8 AM.
Vox growled, now fully awake. He tossed Val's arm off, sitting up and stretching as he turned off the alarm. He looked to his side, noticing how his boyfriend took up half of his large bed. And that their girlfriend was missing. It was usual for her to be the first one out of bed, so Vox thought nothing was wrong.
When the Vees started their throuple, they developed unspoken rules or agreements, things they would do for each other. One of those things, food. Velvette took care of breakfast, since she was usually an early riser. She was usually up at 4 or 5 in the morning, so why not put together something quick for her boys? Vox would take care of lunch for the three of them, usually just ordering something from a nearby restaurant and having it delivered. He wasn't the best in the kitchen. And, by order of elimination, Valentino would make them dinner. He was fairly skilled and everything he made was good, so they had no complaints.
Vox stretched and yawned loudly as he walked to the kitchen. There was no sound of sizzling bacon, or the smell of fresh pancakes, or the beeping of the Keruig finishing their coffee. It was a little odd. That when he noticed the note written on the whiteboard on the fridge.
Busy schedule. Every demon for themselves. Love you, lazy fuckers.♡♡♡
Velvette
Vox smiled gently, starting the Keruig as he looked for something easy to make for him and Valentino. It didn't happen often, but they were used to the times when one of them had to skip their meal. Sometimes work just got in the way and there wasn't much you could do.
He found a box of pancake/waffle mix and followed the instructions on the back of the box, hoping that he wouldn't find a way to burn them this time. He turned and looked over his shoulder as best as he could when he heard foot steps coming towards the kitchen. A familiar groan and sigh filled the air as Vox felt two pairs of arms wrap around his torso. "Coffeeeeeee..." Valentino whined, pressing his forehead against the back of his monitor.
"Made it fresh," Vox said with a little smile, reaching up and grabbing Valentino's ridiculously large coffee mug.
"Where's Vettie?" Val asked with a yawn, taking his mug and filling it to the brim with black coffee.
"She had a busy schedule. Her note is on the fridge," he said, gesturing over to it as he finished up the last waffle.
"So you decided to burn breakfast?"
Vox glared at him. "One more comment like that and I'm breaking your dick. She'll probably get things sorted out in a couple days."
▪︎□▪︎□▪︎□▪︎□▪︎
One month. Velvette had been busy for one whole month. The longest time any of them had fend for themselves for a meal was two weeks, when Valentino had to work late for some porno he just had to finish. Velvette would leave before Vox or Val had gotten up and come back long after they were in bed. The couple of times they stayed up to wait on her, to try and get some explanation, she worked 50+ hours straight and passed out in her studio. If they tried to visit, all they got was "she's busy and not taking visitors", and her assistants wouldn't take any excuse or threat they gave. If they texted her, she would ignore it for hours and only give a response like "srry I was bsuy" and not give any other explanation. It was started to get really fucking sick. And they missed her cooking. You can only have so many almost-burnt waffles and half-cooked pancakes before you will willingly starve yourself until lunch.
Today at lunch, Vox ordered from Velvette's favorite restaurant and brought the food up to her studio. He ignored the interns trying to sheepishly explain why he couldn't go in, and he just barged in through the doors.
The studio looked terrible. It was like a hurricane came through and wrecked the place. Clothes, fabric, and various accessories laid strewn across the floor, and every surface was covered in similar messes. And the only sound echoing throughout was Velvette screaming some jumbled mess at her underlings.
Vox could finally see how badly this past month had affected her. Velvette always put thought and effort into her appearance. She wanted to keep up with the trends and look fabulous. But this look... It was disgusting, to say the least. Her red hair was thrown up into a messy bun. Not an aesthetically pleasing messy bun, an actual messy bun. Her hair was unwashed and unbrushed, just thrown up into a ball on top of her head and held together with a couple of hair ties. Hair was falling out of the "bun" and falling on her face, making her look almost deranged.
Vox got a better look at her face as she whipped around to yell at someone else. She wasn't wearing any makeup, which never happened with Velvette. Without any makeup, you could finally see all the stress on her face, the bags under her eyes from the lack of sleep, and what looked like the start of crows feet.
Her outfit looked so out of style, as well. She would put thought and dedication into each outfit she wore, making sure to stay up on the latest trends and wearing what was in style. But this? It was like she just grabbed a random outfit and changed as she was walking to her studio. And Vox was about 50% sure that her clothes were on backwards. Velvette looked like a mess. Vox knew he had to do somethi-
"WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK DO YOU WANT?!" Velvette screamed, finally noticing his presence. "GET THE FUCK OUT!!!"
"Yes ma'am." Vox put the food on the nearest table and practically ran out of the studio. As he walked back to his control room with a heavy sigh, he called Valentino.
"Hello, my darling~" Val said, making no big deal of throwing in the background. "How was our little princesa?~"
"Terrible, to put it bluntly," Vox said. "We seriously need to get her home tonight."
"Understood. Are we-"
"We're gonna have to. Cut your shoot early."
"Yes, sir~"
"Now is not the time, Val! Just cut the shoot and meet me outside in ten minutes."
▪︎□▪︎□▪︎□▪︎□▪︎
"Are you sure you don't want me to start cooking yet?" Valentino asked. Him and Vox had spent the whole afternoon shopping around, getting wine and ingredients and various gifts for Velvette to have a relaxing night in.
"Yeah. You'll have enough time when she gets back," Vox said as he paced by the bar. "She'll probably come storming in and rant for a while, at least 15 minutes but definitely close to 30. And then she's gonna take a shower-"
"And that will take close to an hour because she needs to clean at least a week of dirt and grime off her body," Valentino cut in, heading over to the bar.
"Yeah, probably closer to a month of dirt. I swear, she looked like walking shit...." Vox commented. "I can't imagine how stressful this month has been for her... Don't touch that!" Vox smacked Val's hand away from the full decanter of wine. "All of that is for Velvette. She's gonna need it. Get your own bottle."
Val rolled his eyes and grabbed another bottle. "You know she's going to drink half of it and throw it at the wall."
"And you know that she learned that maneuver from you," Vox said accusingly. "Just head into the kitchen when you hear a slamming door and work your magic, ok? This is for Velvette."
"I know, I know." Valentino sighed and chugged his glass, pouring a glass for Vox as well. "She's never pushed herself this hard. I just wish we knew what was going on..."
Vox took the glass and kissed Valentino's hand, gently rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. "We'll figure out tonight. It's gonna be ok..."
Valentino gave him a gentle smile, staring lovingly into his eyes. "You always know what to say..."
"That's why I'm the forefront of the fastest growing tech company in the city, possibly all of hell," Vox said cockily, taking sip while Val let out a laugh. He was about to let out another smart quip, when the front door slammed open and a certain someone stormed in.
"HOLY FUCKING HELL, I AM GOING TO KILL SOMEONE!!!" Velvette yelled, storming into the living room. Valentino turned tail and went to the kitchen as quick as possible, while Vox started pouring one of many glasses of wine for Velvette.
Velvette snatched the glass out of Vox's hand and drank it all before throwing the glass at the wall, just like Valentino said she would. She pulled at her hair and screamed at the top of her lungs while Vox poured another glass.
"Bad day?" He asked simply.
"Bad day?!" Velvette said with a murderous grin. "BAD DAY?! IT'S BEEN A BAD MONTH!" And off she went, yelling and screaming about everything that went wrong. Incompetent staff, late shipments, and worst of all, Claire. Fucking Claire. She was the worst model Velvette had. She was more demanding than Velvette herself, somehow! She had gotten the job because she was friends with another overlord, some hoity-toity bitch ass from a club in the entertainment district. Sophia or Sarah or whatever the fuck her name was.
"Anytime I try to fire her, she runs to that stupid little club with her stupid little friend and they come parading in the next day, demanding I put her in the next fucking show or on the cover of the next fucking catalog," Velvette said, finally slamming the wine glass on the bar rather than throwing it against a hard surface. Vox simply took the glass and refilled for her to pick up the next time she passed.
"And you know what?! There may not be another fucking catalog because that bastard Geoffrey CAN'T SEND A SIMPLE FABRIC SHIPMENT TO SAVE HIS SOUL!!!!!!" Velvette yelled, chugging the glass again. She stood in the living room, surrounded by little piles of glass while she panted. She finally looked at Vox, copying his blank stare. "Well?"
Vox was silent for a moment, trying to pick something to comment on. "Claire sounds like a bitch."
"Trust me, she is a nightmare." She approached the car and sat down, sighing and laying her head down on the counter. "I swear you would think it's Lucifer himself in disguise. I would think so too if I didn't know he staying at that...Hackshot Hostel with his daughter or whatever..."
"Hazbin Hotel," Vox said, pouring another glass for her.
Velvette shot her head up and glared at him. "Don't correct me."
"Yes ma'am."
Velvette gave another heavy sigh and took a little sip from the glass this time. "I'm just so tired..."
"I know, Vettie. Why don't you get cleaned up?" Vox said gently. "We got you some of that sugar scrub you like to use, and your favorite face cream." He went around the bar and helped her up, guiding her around the piles of glass to the bathroom.
"The one with the charcoal and brimstone mix?" Velvette asked with a smile.
"Mhm. And when you get done pampering yourself, I'll help you tame that rat's nest your hair has become."
Velvette covered her mouth and giggled. "Honestly, it's not that bad. It's certainly better than that hair catastrophe of '06."
"All I remember was you became a sobbing mess because you were going to have to shave your head," Vox commented. He stopped outside the bathroom and gave her a little push in. "Get yourself cleaned up, honey. Val should finish dinner soon after you get out."
Velvette smiled brighter. "Santa Fe Chicken with seasoned rice-"
"And garlic seared potatoes, yes," Vox finished for her. He smiled, watching her cheer to herself before shutting the door. He went back to the living room, watching as Val swept up the glass piles.
"I was gonna get them, Val," Vox said, taking the broom for him to finish sweeping up.
"I know," Val said. "I'm still waiting for that damn chicken to thaw, so I wanted to help. How's Vels?"
"She's doing better. She definitely needed to rant to someone." Vox took the dust pan, sweeping up the last couple of piles and throwing it all away. "She's in the shower now, if you wanna check on her."
"I won't interrupt her. She probably needs some along time." Val stood there, starting to stare into space while silence filled the room.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Vox asked, going back behind the bar to make them both a drink.
"How easy do you think it would be to get Claire to sell her soul to me?" Val asked, looking over at him.
Vox let out a laugh, pouring some alchohol and mixers into a shaker. "It won't be easy. If she's friends with Sophia, then she might have already made a deal or something. But...she could be accidentally caught in the crossfire of a turf war. Or accidentally get pushed off the roof."
"Or accidentally get shot 20 times," Valentino growled.
"Now, now, we can't shoot her. That's too obvious," Vox chastised, shaking up the drink and pouring it in one of the few glasses they had left. "Drink that and go back to the kitchen."
Val sighed gently and kissed his monitor, taking the glass and walking back to the kitchen.
And now, Vox was alone. He sighed as a comfortable silence filled the air. He searched the rows of bottles for something to drink, and pulled down a clear rectangular glass bottle, a little shorter and wider than most, that seemed to be delicately crafted; With smoothed out rigids and designs that capsulated the bottle. It smoothed out by the top and closed in to create a vase-like-opening, and sitting on top was the lid, square and designed to match the bottle. Vox smiled to himself and poured himself some of the amber liquor.
Velvette had gotten it for him a few years ago, when they first got together. She wasn't the best with words at the time, so she often expressed her love or gratitude with gifts. She said it was an "infinity bottle", and you would "sacrifice" the last two or three drinks of every bottle of whiskey or bourbon or whatever you drank, and you pour it into the bottle. Over time as you slowly fill the bottle with these "sacrificed" drinks, it would develop a unique flavor profile, built by memories and nights of drunken laughter.
Vox drank the small glass, and he couldn't help the smile that slowly appeared. He put the bottle back on the shelf and started to clean up to keep himself busy. He tidied up the bar area (and made a mental note to order more glasses), swept up any remnant pieces of glass, and cleaned up a few tiny messes in the living room. He got Val to help him move the coffee table as well before gathering up Velvette's hair care products and setting them on the side table in the living room. When there was nothing else for him to do, he finally got changed into some pajamas and sat on the couch, waiting for Velvette to come out.
Soft footsteps sounded through the living room, causing Vox to look over his shoulder. He smiled, seeing Velvette wrapped up in the new silk pajama set they had gotten her. It was a solid lavender color, with dark purple pentagrams sprinkled throughout. She wrapped herself up in the matching silk robe, with a black bonnet in hand and her hair in a towel wrap.
Velvette gave him a gentle smile. "You really went all out, didn't you?"
"Of course. You've worked so hard," Vox explained. "You deserve to be pampered, Vettie."
Velvette walked around the couch, plopping down on a pillow on the floor in front of Vox. "I think you two spoil me more than pamper me."
"Vettie, we don't spoil you enough." He took the towel off her hair, letting the tangled mess fall free of its cotton confines. He grabbed the paddle brush and some detangling spray, starting on a small section of the mess while Velvette searched the channels for something mildly interesting. She became enamored with some fashion competition, leaving her quiet and compliant while Vox slowly worked his way through the tangles.
After what felt like an eternity, Vox was finally able to pull the brush through her hair without snagging on a knot, and Velvette was criticizing the outfits the models were wearing. Well, she was criticizing the models more than their outfits.
"Blimp, elephant, fatass, skinny-ass, no ass, and.... Well, she just looks fugly," Velvette commented, drying some of the product out of her hair.
"Nah, she looks hot!" Valentino said as he brought in a couple plates of food.
"Hey! You should only have eyes for me, limp dick!" Velvette chastised. "She's not even that cute! Roadkill looks cuter than her!"
"She's hot because she looks like you," Val said with a smirk.
"Oh. Well, I guess I do see some resemblance," she said with a little blush.
Vox just laughed, helping Velvette get her hair in the silk bonnet. "But no demon in hell compares to you, my love."
"I know! You boys are fucking lucky you bagged me before some Sin did!" Velvette stood up and took her plate from Val, simply smirking at their laughter.
"Really? You think you're good enough for a Sin?"
"I'm good enough for Lucifer himself!" Velvette sat on the couch and got comfy, while Vox and Val cackled with laughter.
"Glad to have you back to your old self, Vettie," Val said as he calmed down.
"Well, when I get spoiled, I act spoiled." She smiled and leaned forward, giving Vox a kiss on his monitor. "Thank you. Seriously."
"It's no big deal, Vels. You deserve it."
"I cooked. Don't I get something?" Val complained.
Velvette rolled her eyes. "I'll suck your dick later."
"YES!"
And with that, they fell into a comfortable silence. Velvette made an occasional comment about some terrible tailoring, and the boys would agree, but not much else was said for the next few hours. After they ate, Val slowly migrated to the couch, sitting between his lovers and pulling them close. Velvette nuzzled up to his chest, and Vox did his best to lean his head on Val's shoulder. Having a tv head did make some problems when it came to cuddling.
Vox felt himself slowly falling in and out of sleep, hours passing in what felt like minutes. Late in the night, Val gently shook him awake and pointed to the girlfriend. The boys smiled, watching her mumbled about shoulder puffs and cravats in her sleep.
"Do you want her arms or legs?" Vox asked softly as he stood up.
"I'll take the arms this time." Val wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled her up. Vox grabbed her ankles and they carried her to the bedroom, gently placing her in her rightful spot in the middle of the bed.
Vox laid beside her, holding her close as his monitor darkened. Val joined soon after, throwing two of his four arms over them like he was trying to protect them, or trap them in the bed. It was probably him trapping them in bed.
▪︎□▪︎□▪︎□▪︎□▪︎
Vox groaned as his monitor vibrated and beeped, sounding off his alarm to get up. He held up a hand, catching Valentino's arm that was about to smack his monitor. He shoved the arm away and sat up, turning off his alarm as he yawned and stretched.
Vox looked beside him, noticing the absence of their girlfriend from the large bed once again. His heart sank slightly. Did Velvette run out again? He quickly got out of bed and practically ran to the kitchen. A smile came to his face when he saw Velvette at the stove, still in her pajamas as she made breakfast.
"Are you gonna keep standing there or are you gonna say hello?" Velvette said, breaking the silence.
"Just taking in this rare and beautiful sight," Vox said. He hugged her from behind and kissed the top of her head. "Morning, darling..."
"Good morning, my love." Velvette patted the side of his monitor. "I do have to head in to the studio, but it's just for a few hours. I'll be done by lunch and then I'm all yours."
"Good. You need a whole week off after that whole shit show," Vox pulled away, grabbing some mugs to make each of their coffees.
"Agreed," Velvette said with a sigh. "I just hope I can take care of Claire once and for all..."
"Oh, don't worry about it, Vettie. Me and Val have it handled," Vox said with an evil smirk.
Velvette turned and smiled at him. "I swear, you boys spoil me..."
102 notes · View notes
altrbody · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
Robert Morris, House of the Vetti, 1983. Gray and pink felt with metal grommets and steel pipe. 94 1/2 x 96 x 36 inches. From Robert Morris: The Felt Works by Grey Art Gallery and Study Center.
3 notes · View notes
lovesickonmybed · 9 months ago
Text
@joeloverture has been here for me all throughout the issues my cat has been having. vetty is so kind and so talented so please support her and her work. if it wasn’t for her i’d be a mess right now 💕
2 notes · View notes
mysticalblizzardcolor · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 6.4.24 "As the sense objects [form, taste, touch, smell and sound] cannot understand how the senses perceive them, so the conditioned soul, although residing in his body along with the Supersoul, cannot understand how the supreme spiritual person, the master of the material creation, directs his senses. Let me offer my respectful obeisances unto that Supreme Person, who is the supreme controller." Purport The individual soul and the Supreme Soul live together within the body. This is confirmed in the Upaniṣads by the analogy that two friendly birds live in one tree — one bird eating the fruit of the tree and the other simply witnessing and directing. Although the individual living being, who is compared to the bird that is eating, is sitting with his friend the Supreme Soul, the individual living being cannot see Him. Actually the Supersoul is directing the workings of his senses in the enjoyment of sense objects, but as these sense objects cannot see the senses, the conditioned soul cannot see the directing soul. The conditioned soul has desires, and the Supreme Soul fulfills them, but the conditioned soul is unable to see the Supreme Soul. Thus Prajāpati Dakṣa offers his obeisances to the Supreme Soul, the Supersoul, even though unable to see Him. Another example given is that although ordinary citizens work under the direction of the government, they cannot understand how they are being governed or what the government is. In this regard, Madhvācārya quotes the following verse from the Skanda Purāṇa: yathā rājñaḥ priyatvaṁ tu bhṛtyā vedena cātmanaḥ tathā jīvo na yat-sakhyaṁ vetti tasmai namo ’stu te “As the various servants in the different departments of big establishments cannot see the supreme managing director under whom they are working, the conditioned souls cannot see the supreme friend sitting within their bodies. Let us therefore offer our respectful obeisances unto the Supreme, who is invisible to our material eyes.”
4 notes · View notes
onlyyvette · 8 months ago
Text
TF Titty Headcanons Pt. 2
Tumblr media Tumblr media
❏* — warnings — sub/bottom characters(decepticons) + dom/top reader + robotitties + lactation + praise + boobjobs + masochism + piercings + Starscream is a narcissist + size kink + mommy kink + breeding kink + Megatron definitely rewards his top soldiers with his body + in this world you're either a creamer or squirter +
❏* — a/n — pt 1 got so much positive feedback so I'm just happy that I was able to do a part 2!! And if I do a part 3 I'll most likely do the autoboobies again
also omfg I wrote
Tumblr media
➾ DECEPTICONS
✦ Megatron - Contrary to popular belief, Megs has average sized boobs for a mech his size, but they still seem pretty damn huge to most since not many mechs are his size. That is until you compare them to another mech's like Optimus (say whatever you want but Optimus outboobs Megatron). Megs doesn't care too much about his tits, seeing them as just protoform sitting on his chassis, but he does like to have them played with once in a while.
Megatron only interfaces with his top soldiers, and even only the best of the best get to see their lord's magnificent rack. When he does 'face with them, he always orders them to treat him like any other mech they would fuck, the feeling of being treated like a fling always getting to his head. Despite how meaningless his refineries are to him, his partners see them as an absolute blessing. The lucky shmuck who's not only able to be graced with the sight of Megs' boobs and also being able to feel them up will never forget it. His tits have a subtle softness to them that's fucking amazing, perfect for shoving their helm into. Megatron is surprising pretty vocal, letting out gruff moans whenever his tits are fondled with. And every single time, without fail, his crimson optics will be locked onto his partner's as if he were teasing them.
Something the Megs is very willing to do is give boobjobs to his decepticons that are doing an exceptionally good job at taking down any autobot forces. He'll reward them by lifting his tits up and down the mech's shaft, keeping eye contact as his optics are blazing with unspent charge. And if Primus themself has blessed a mech, they'll be treated to Megatron lavishly sprawled across a wide berth, clutching the sheets as a spike ruts into him, striking as many nodes as possible with greedy servos all over his tits, feeling them as much as they can. Megatron's optics dim as he shivers from the pleasure of having his subordinate treat him as just some random fling. His vocalizer releases moans becoming slightly higher pitched the more his nozzles are twisted and pulled on and he just can't wait to do this again.
✦ Soundwave - With the decepticon third-in-command may be hiding many secrets about himself, his tits are most definitely one of those secrets. Soundwave's tits are big and busty, a more gray color. He's one of the few mechs who actually lactate, and when he does, it's usually not too much energon but it can leave his tits feeling very sensitive. He's usually able to deal with it himself, but when it gets too much those are the times he'll seek out partners the most.
Everyone who's slept with Soundwave have the same exact thoughts. He has the best tits they've ever come across. Soundwave doesn't think too much of his boobs, yet whenever people get to feel them up and lap up any energon leaking, they'll never want to go back to drinking energon normally again. Mechs who get to feed off of Soundwave's leaking titties always grope them slowly with their servos, massaging them nicely as they coax more energon out. Usually, Soundwave turns his vocalizer off since he isn't too fond of making noise from pleasure, but it's so obvious how good he's feeling when his whole entire frame is trembling and the way he tries to sneakily press his digits into his leaking valve.
Whenever Soundwave begins to lactate and has a mech sucking on his nozzle, he can't help but feel something maternal in his code to get sparked up by anyone suitable, to have transfluid pumping into his forge, to carry sparklings that'll one day need to feed from him too. When he gets like this, he becomes more shameless when interfacing, doing everything in his power to get the mech pumping their spike into him to pump in a heavy load of transfluid too. He'll do everything he needs to do, whether it be tightening his valve callipers, rocking his hips back into thrusts more, or pushing his tits further into his partner's faceplate. As long as it'll result in transfluid spills into his forge he'll be happy. And he won't be satiated with just one overload. Even when his partner needs a break from fucking, he'll just find himself on top of them, working his servo up and down their shaft before it retracts as he strakes them back to full pressurization, just before sinking back down on it all over again.
✦ Starscream - Starscream has slightly smaller than average titties, but in his opinion, it's the shape that matters, and not the size. He's very right about that when it comes to his tits. His tits are a dark grey that match his face and are perky with a surprising amount of bounce to them.
As the #1 narcissist of all Cybertronians, Screamer absolutely prizes his boobs. While he might start angrily huffing when his tits are fondled by his partners, it's all a farce. He's an absolute slut for having his boobs played with. Whenever he's self servicing, while his digits are busy circling his node, his other servo is gliding over his cockpit, sliding upwards until he feels soft and sensitive protoform. He lets out soft pants, his plump lips falling open as his optics narrow to slits-- he would never get tired of it.
Whenever Screamer's partners want to touch his tits, he always snaps at them, saying some shit about they're too perfect for them to dirty with their servos, yet he can feel his valve throb at the thought. The only times Screamer doesn't allow his partner to touch his tits is when they're his size, but he might let them if they grovel. But when it's a mech much bigger than him? It's a whole other story. He would die before saying out loud but he's addicted to having big, warm servos on his tits, dwarfing them as they manhandle them with ease, pinching his nozzles with flat digits pads or just giving them a nice, long squeeze that'll have him struggling to not moan like a pleasurebot.
With his larger partners, without them even needing to ask, he's already in their lap, legs wrapped around their waist as his chassis transforms away and reveals his rack. He arches his back so that his tits are pressed onto his partner's frame and looks at them with a knowing smirk-- he knows they won't be able to resist. It always ends with him letting out shrill cries of pleasure, truly living up to his name as his his valve is drilled into and his tits are thoroughly abused.
✦ Skywarp - As the resident Nemesis Fragbuddy™️, it's no surprise that Warp has bigger than average tits. His tits are light gray and have big, perky nozzles that are always begging to be pulled on. He owns crystal and metal pink barbell nozzle piercings that are (unsurprisingly) always seen gleaming on his nozzles. Skywarp's an absolute masochist, loving the feeling of his tits being roughly fondled or bitten down so hard he leaks energon. Warp fucks his way around on the Nemesis looking for not only the best mech to fuck him but also someone with hands big and skilled enough mess with his tits the way he likes it. He isn't really a big fan of having his boobs softly caressed and massaged-- he need them to be -- he wants his tits to be absolutely bruised, aching and possibly even bleeding when his partner is done. It's the only way to get off by playing with his tits.
Since Warp has slept with a lot of the decepticon crew and is a kinky fucker, he's definitely had some interesting things done to his boobs. He's had people bring magnets close to his nozzle piercings, forcing his piercings to follow and tug on his nozzles until he's squealing. Skywarp's given plenty of boobjobs too, sandwiching a spike between his pillowy tits as he rubs them up and down his partner's shaft and if he's lucky to have a partner bigger than him, their spike will reach past his cleavage and find its way into his already drooling intake.
His favorite thing ever is to have his tits roughed up while someone's banging up his valve. Just having a nice, thick spike plowing him is more than enough to get him off, but having a mech bite down on his nozzles, pulling on the piercing as the other hand mercilessly gropes his soft mesh? He'll for sure be an incoherent mess, optics rolling back as he's giggling stupidly from the pleasure wracking his frame.
✦ Thundercracker - Despite this seeker's standoffish, slightly prudish behavior when it comes to the discussion of interfacing, and his truly romantic personality, he has a huge rack hiding behind his armor. Out of all of his trine, Thundercracker's boobs are the biggest, bounciest, and the most attractive. Screamer and Skywarp are so totally jealous of him but truth be told, TC would definitely trade his with theirs anytime. He found it a nuisance to have such soft protometal sitting on his chest and the sensitivity that comes with it. They're just so soft and flimsy, making it so much easier to grope them with wandering servos and watch as the sensitive protometal nearly spills out between digit gaps. And it's exactly what other mechs think of them.
Thundercracker hates to admit it, but would die to have someone worship his tits, pinch his nozzles and bring one into their intake, murmuring on the soft mesh about how fucking perfect his boobs are. TC's face would be so flushed, coolant dripping down his faceplate while he tries to keep his cute moans from escaping his vocalizer. The sweet praises would go to his head and he 100% will melt into the touch of his partner if they did that, maybe even hook a leg around their waist and beg for them to fuck him already before he's overloading already, creaming around nothing while his needy valve clenches pathetically on a spike that isn't there.
405 notes · View notes
joeloverture · 9 months ago
Text
✪ vetty's masterlist ✪
hi, welcome in !
my blog is 18+ — mdni. warnings & tags can be found on each work of mine. do not copy, translate, repost, or put my writing into ai in any capacity.
i don't have a taglist, but you can find my updates blog @joelovertureupdates. turn on notifications to learn when i post new fics.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
JOEL MILLER : THE LAST OF US
✪ comeuppance: when your recklessness causes an arms deal to go south, joel makes sure you regret it. ✪ daredevil: after a chance encounter when your dad's best friend catches you sneaking home from a hookup, he has an interesting way of making sure it doesn't happen again.
✪ fair’s fair: joel shoves you in his sweaty pits as a ‘joke’.
✪ hook 'em [series] : trying to get back at your cheating quarterback ex-boyfriend leads you right into the arms of his coach. you plan on staying there for a little while.
✪ a lesson in condom sense : the last customer you expect to be waltzing into your secret day job is your dad's best friend. you can only fight the tension between you two for so long before giving in. ✪ sea-cret obsession : your dad's always had a superiority complex when it comes to his place at austin's finest yacht club. when joel miller joins the club, not only does he dethrone your dad — he also becomes your newest obsession.
✪ snowbound : joel is the only guy you know with four wheel drive in the rarely-snowy state of texas, so it seems like a no-brainer to have him pick you up from work — until his truck breaks down, leaving you two to the classic 'huddle for warmth' solution.
Tumblr media
451 notes · View notes
ccmpletemess · 2 years ago
Text
closed starter for @honeyedblossom ft. mason sanchez & ( vetty )
Mase had just finished work, leaving the office later than he'd originally planned but he'd text Letty to let her know he'd be home later, and that he'd at least arrive with take out. However, as he made the short walk to the restaurant, his eyes fell onto a familiar face. It had been years since he'd seen her last, and he hoped it wasn't just his mind playing tricks on him. "Vetty?" He called out, blinking in surprise.
Tumblr media
9 notes · View notes
papurgaatika · 3 months ago
Text
Pink In The Night
Pairing: Din Djarin x f! reader
Minors DNI with my work please!!!
A/N: this came to me in a moment of insanity. I love him so much. This was supposed to be less than 1k words, but I truly got carried away. Thank you to my lovely beta reader @carlynkurin! This is semi dedicated to @joeloverture bc vetty did not let me add it to the WIP folder and somehow I finished it in a day so that's neat Once again sticking with the song lyric as the title brand, it is Pink in the Night by Mitski this time LOL. As always, peace and love on the planet Earth from me, and I hope y'all enjoy !!!!
Tags: smut, idiots in love, devotion, oral (f receiving), reader’s skin is called tan and reader has a bush, no other description, semi subby Din, tit worship, lots of semi-religious metaphors, pet names (sweet/pretty girl, my moon, my sun) Din worships reader, reader worships him, soft, established relationship, tooth rottingly sweet, no use of y/n, 18+ Word count: 3.7k
Summary: A night’s serenity with Din has you enveloped in each other.
Tumblr media
There was a moment of peace you found yourself in tonight, the sun was low in the sky, not quite setting but it had started to move west. Your toes were dipping in the small creek just beside your home, ripples ebbing and flowing with every movement you made. You could hear the coos of Grogu behind you as Din kept a watchful eye on your son. You laugh softly as Grogu falls to the ground with an unrefined oomph probably exhausted from being allowed to run around all day. You glance at Din with a smile, and he feels like he suddenly can't breathe. 
God. that smile of yours. It always gets him and he can't explain why. You just felt like home to him. He moves to sit beside you, armored shoulder bumping your bare one, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the day  “Hey you,” you grin, toes wiggling in the water as you move to lean against him a little more. His arm moves to wrap around you, the leather of his glove somehow rough but soft against your skin simultaneously. 
“Hey pretty girl,” he hums, voice still tender even through the modulator. His fingers run aimlessly over your shoulder, feeling the warmth of your skin. “You’re gonna catch a burn” he mumbles, moving his hand to brush a stray lock of your hair off your neck to get a better view. 
You snort at him slightly, letting your eyes close in contentment as he touches your skin. “I don't burn, just get tanned” You can feel his unamused gaze, even through the helmet. You knew the look he was giving you. It was the same one he gave you when you refused to sit down when your feet hurt, or when he asked if you had eaten anything when your head ached. 
“Your skin is warm to the touch, meshla” he states, leaving absolutely no room for argument. His hand trails over the curve of your neck and traces the outline of your jaw softly, relishing in how soft you are compared to him. He wanted to memorize every curve of your body, never to be allowed a moment to forget them. “Let’s just go inside, the womp rat is already asleep on the blanket anyway” You both glance back at Grogu who sure enough, had tuckered himself out all day and was now curled up on the small blanket you had set up for him. You make a small noise of affirmation and let Din scoop him up, before you bring your feet out of the water, letting them dry slightly on the ground before walking in after Din, and shutting the door softly. You watch with a small smile as Din tucks Grogu into his bed, relishing in the domesticity of it all; being in your home, watching your husband tuck your son into bed after you spent the day in the sun with the both of them. It was something you would never get over. 
Din steps out of Grogu’s room, helmet discarded by the main door, and finds his eyes locked on your figure. There was so much love in those eyes, so much pain, and hardness, but when you saw them all you could feel was warmth. The chocolate brown of his eyes, deeper than any ocean, warmer than any fire, felt like home to you. He raises his now gloveless hand to skim the skin of your shoulder, brows wrinkling together a little as he feels the skin still warm under him. “Meshla you’re still warm” his touch was so soft, almost like he thought you would break if he was any firmer. 
You give him a light-hearted roll of your eyes as he ushers you into your bedroom, backing you onto your bed with an ungraceful thump “Din it’s not a burn-” you laugh softly at his insistence, but he wasn't having it. He makes quick work of removing his armor, the sound of beskar soothing to your ears before he turns back to face you. 
“Take off your shirt” The bluntness of his words catches you off guard for a moment, your mouth opening and closing with a lack of words. 
You can see him biting back a smirk at your falter “Baby what-?” you gape at him. It wasn't that you didn't want to, you were just absolutely baffled. 
“Take. Off. your. shirt,” he repeats himself, emphasizing every word. “I'm gonna put lotion on you, you’re too warm.” and there’s that smirk. You roll your eyes at him tossing off the soft tank top and throwing it in his direction before laying down on the bed on your stomach. 
Din could die a happy man right now. He thinks that if the maker struck him down, right this instant, he would be okay with it. The sight of you, relaxed on his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of loose shorts, waiting for him to use his hands on you was almost too much for him to bear. He moves to sit behind you on the bed, essentially straddling the backs of your legs, and grazes your back softly. Mapping out the freckles and dips of your skin, tracing the soft tan lines, just in awe of you every single time. 
He lets out a shaky exhale before taking a bit of the lotion into his hands and massaging it softly into your back, feeling your body instantly relax at the coolness of it “Is that okay pretty girl?” he whispers, hands pressing gently down your back and shoulders, feeling the curve of your spine. You nod your head, face resting on a pillow, and peek up at him with a small content smile. 
“Yeah.. yeah it's nice Din..” you murmur at him, voice low and solace. You felt him continue the motions on your back, hands almost reverent against your skin, almost as if you were the beads of a rosary he was slipping between his fingers. His hands slip to your lower back and brush the waist of your shorts, a silent plea hanging in his touch. You lift your hips slightly, letting him tug them off with a touch much too delicate for someone who has been hunting bounties for years. 
You coo slightly when his hands rub lotion onto your ass, his touch featherlight and tentative. “Is this okay?” you hear him ask, your response coming out in the form of a silent nod, eyes closed enjoying the feeling of his hands on you. “You’re always so soft. So perfect..” his hands continue their tender movements, hands slipping between your legs and grazing your thighs but never touching your heated core, he was going to drag this out for you. “Stars…” he admires “you’re so... perfect... so beautiful…” his words are less for your ears and more just his internal dialogue being voiced. His hands continue down your legs to your ankles and then back up, tapping your hip to get you to roll over. 
You turn over, body laid bare for him. The evening sun peering through the window had your skin bathed in warmth. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, a lazy smile at the sight of him. Your hand reached up to cup his cheek, the feeling of his beard coarse against the smooth skin of your palm. He immediately leans into your caress, seeking more of you, wanting to envelop himself in you completely, to give himself up to you as much as he can. His eyes gaze over the sight of you laid out under him, the way your breasts rise and fall with each breath, the tan lines on your skin, the curves and dips of your body. He was going to memorize you, to be yours completely. “Can I touch you?” 
“Always Din..” your murmur leaves no room for argument and sends his head reeling. He shifts so his clothed hips are pressed against you, and his face is nestled under the curve of your breast. You sigh as his warm breaths hit your skin, just watching him admire you. His hands trace the curve of your waist and his lips dip to the valley between your breasts. He licks a small stripe between them, eyes drifting shut, relishing the way you taste. Your eyes are slightly hazy, overwhelmed with the sight of him practically revering you. His lips move to press kisses over one of your breasts, lips tentative and gentle before he takes your nipple between your lips, a pleased sigh leaving your throat. 
He feels a jolt of electricity rack through him at the sounds you make, the sounds he makes you make. His lips leave your nipple, moving to the other one. He hums around it, your back arching at the sensation. His tongue swirls and flicks at the sensitive peak in his mouth, his hand softly tweaking and kneading the other breast. “Maker above” he groans, pulling off of you with a pop, “I love these so much. Stars you’re perfect” his hands go to massage both of them, thumbs sliding over your nipples making your breathing tremble slightly 
“Feels so good Din..” his hands haven’t stopped their ministrations, moving softly and gently as ever, taking his time to make you feel good. He grins at your words, the praise going straight to his cock, but that could wait. He just wanted to make you feel good today. 
“Yeah cyare? You like my hands on you?” his hands don’t still as he asks, his face pressed against the soft of your stomach, peering up at you. 
Your back arches again as he presses a few kisses under your breasts and across your ribs. “Yeah baby” you sigh “like when you’re soft with me..” 
He thinks his brain short-circuits for a minute. Din was not known to be soft. He was the hardened bounty hunter turned marshal of Nevarro, a stone-cold killer, nearly undefeated. But not to you. He was the man who rubbed the bottom of your feet when you had been standing too long, a caring father, the love of your life. He was softest when he was with you when he was in the presence of someone who made him forget what his legacy was and allowed him to be himself. 
“I’ll be soft..” his words are barely audible with his face pressed into your chest “I am yours..” he keeps his lips pressed against the skin of your ribs, his hands still cupping your breasts. “Always yours,” he mumbles as his lips find your nipple again, taking the pebbled nub into his mouth and letting his tongue swirl around it. Your hands fist in his hair, not pulling, just grounding him and yourself in each others’ touch “My perfect girl... my everything..” his words were slightly slurred, getting drunk on you. “Stars.. I want to taste you” he looks up at you, his pupils dark and blown, lost in his ecstasy. His hips grind down slowly against yours, his need taking over involuntarily. 
Your lazy sighs and moans fill the room, mingling with the sounds of the bugs and townspeople outside of your window. His lips trace their way down your chest, following the path down your abdomen, licking small stripes against your skin as he goes. “So good to me din..” you sigh, lips parting and eyes fluttering as you glance down at him. 
He lets out an uneven breath, his brown eyes drinking your body in. He sits up slightly between your legs and swallows roughly, as he takes in the sight of you. The sun was practically making you glow, casting a halo of gold around you, your lips were parted and red from biting at them. “You’re so beautiful my sun… so so beautiful” You feel your skin warm at his words, despite how often he praises you it never ceases to make you melt like putty in his hands. He can see the reaction on your face, the slight flush of your skin stirring something possessive and needy inside of him. “Kriff-” he makes a sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper, “kriff i need you, i need you my sun,” 
You huff out a warm laugh and he thinks that it was warmer than the heat of any sun he had been in the presence of. You were his sun, you were his entire galaxy. “Go on in, I want you too my moon,” your words are soft, gentler than he thinks he deserves, but you never use anything other than that soft voice with him. 
“You’re sure..?” his hands trace over your thigh. Despite being fully bare and needy in front of him, Din is always sure to ask, never wanting to overstep, never wanting to hurt you even if by accident. His eyes are searching yours, looking for any sign of second guesses or hesitance, but are only met with utter devotion and need 
“I’m always sure” you whisper gently, looking up at him like he had personally set every star in the galaxy out there for you, like your entire heart and soul were his, and his were yours. He didn’t need to be told a second time, his lips finding your skin once again, tracing the same path down your body, licking over the ticklish skin of your belly button, nipping gently at the skin of your hip, until he’s hovering right above the coarse curls nestled on your body. You twitch slightly at the brush of his stubble against your stomach, your hand stroking through his hair absentmindedly. 
He lets out a small rumble of affection as he watches your chest rise and fall from his place between your legs. His mouth moves down to the curls just above your aching cunt and presses soft kisses into them, breathing in the smell of you. “You smell so kriffing good stars-” he practically whimpers at you, your breath catching as your hips jerk up inadvertently, yearning to catch some of his touch.
“Maker I love these” his lips continue to press kisses at the hairs on your mound, your skin heating at the praise, before his lips move slowly down, teasingly slow, before they press down over your slick folds. His nose nudges you open softly, and you cry out hands tightening in his hair, when it bumps your clit. “Smell so fucking good, bet you taste so perfect for me too ” he whines as his tongue lays a flat stripe against you. 
There was that filthy mouth of his. Somehow managing to be both incredibly sweet and debauched at the same time in ways that made your head spin. His tongue laps at you, gentle kitten licks at first, before it starts to work in lazy circles against your clit. He lets out a hum of laughter when your hand tightens in the sheets, a moan breaking out of your chest when his lips kiss and suck on that bundle of nerves. “Taste better every single time, Sun” he murmurs, collecting your slick on his tongue. 
“Stars-” your voice breaks in a whimpered moan, the feeling of his lips pressing open-mouthed kisses over your cunt making you writhe in his touch. His tongue darts out to lap at the slick that practically drools out of you eagerly like he was getting ambrosia straight from the gods. You tasted heavenly, and he simply could never get enough. He moans into your skin every so often, the vibrations sending shocks that go down your spine.
 The hand that wasn’t holding your hip was entangled with yours, his fingers rubbing your knuckles in a tender caress. The soothing motion is almost second nature to the two of you, one you use during any moment you can spare. “Maker” you cry out when his beard scratches the soft skin of your pussy, “all for you din, I’m all yours.” your words send a rush of possession through his body, his tongue lapping at you faster, almost like he was claiming you as his. 
His tongue goes back to dart at your dripping hole, pushing past your entrance and moaning at the taste of you. He flicks his tongue in you a few times, your back arching in response before he pulls off of you. He looks ragged with his mouth covered in your wetness and his hair clinging to his forehead, while sweat drips down his skin. “Maker above you taste so fucking sweet.. my sweet girl.” 
He moves back down, lips fervently attached to your clit, pulling moan after moan from your mouth. Your legs tremble as his mouth focuses on its new target, and you feel the coil inside you tightening, bringing you to that peak. 
“Oh, shit-” you cry out as your legs tighten around his head, a hoarse moan leaving his mouth at the feeling. “Din, baby fuck, I'm gonna cum-” Your breathing is unsteady, coming out in sharp pants and gasps. 
“That's it sweet girl” he hums into your skin, tongue never stopping its rapid movements “cum on my tongue baby, let me taste you, sweet girl” Your cunt pulses as you cum for him, his tongue working you through the high of your orgasm. Your sounds are like a choir in his ears, and if lack of air between your legs killed him he wouldn't mind, it would be an honor to die like that. The combination of those, coupled with how damn sweet you taste, had him rolling his hips into the mattress searching for any sort of relief for his aching cock. 
Your eyes are hazy as you come down from your climax, your legs going limp on the bed. You can see Din rutting into the mattress, a new burst of arousal flooding you. “Din.. baby… I want you..” you practically purr at him, voice dripping with almost as much need as your cunt. Your words raise a guttural whine to leave his chest, his breathing labored. 
“Please,” the tone of his voice is almost one of supplication, begging you for salvation “Please, I need to be inside you, please-” your hands are already making quick work of undoing his belt, your need for him primal.
His belt comes off with a click and you can feel yourself drooling at the sound, almost Pavlovian how quickly you react “Din, please please I want you, baby put it in I can't wait,” your own pleas match his in desperation. Both of you yearned for each other in ways that were incomprehensible, in ways that could keep you whole for the rest of time simply if you could bask in the shadow of the other. 
Din pulls his pants off, throwing them somewhere across the room, and you finally see him. Thick and pretty as ever, dripping pre-cum, practically throbbing and aching to be inside your warmth. You shuffle your hips down so he can line up with you, shaky exhales leaving both your lips when he drags the heavy weight of him over your sensitive heat. He gathers some of your wetness on his cock, coating it before he slips into you, curses flying out of both of your mouths. “Fuck Din,” you cry out as his tip pushes into you, the familiar stretch of him making you ache for more. He pushes into you further, making your toes curl and one of your hands grabs at your breast. 
“So good for me,” he groans out, pushing himself further, almost lost in how good you felt around him. Tight and wet, molding around him like you were made for each other. He pushes himself in all the way, buried inside you to the hilt, and it was like a puzzle piece. You were crafted just for him, and he was for you. There was nobody else for either of you. 
Din sinks down on the bed, his hips flush against yours, only propped up on an elbow to keep from crushing you under him. “My perfect girl..” he sighs, not thrusting but simply rocking against you. “My perfect fucking girl... I love you I love you I love you” he nestles his head on your shoulder, pressing kisses on your collarbone and neck. He snakes one hand around your waist, pulling you up to his body, chests pressed together, and you cling to each other. 
“Your girl..” you sigh, your hips moving gently, the friction of his coarse hair against your clit giving you enough stimulation to feel that familiar peak building slowly “Your girl.. Yours..” his lips move against your skin, his touch and presence engulfing you the way that you craved with him. 
His hips move a little faster, his need for you evident in the way his fingers grip you. “So kriffing beautiful like this.” he cries out, biting your collar gently “So perfect… so good under me like this..” you can feel his hips growing a tinge frantic, his orgasm building after who knows how long of staving it off to focus on you. You let one of your hands drift to your clit, not even needing to move your hand, just needing a slight bit of extra pressure while he moves inside of you. 
“I love you, Din. I love you so much, I love you,” you cry out as his movements turn to shallow shaky thrusts, his lips parted against your skin in silent prayers to you. “Cum with me, please I want to feel you, I want you in me, I want to be yours Din.” your fingers move gently, pushing you over the edge towards your climax. 
The feeling of your walls clamping down around him pushes him over with you. His cock twitched inside of you with groans and cries of pleasure leaving his mouth as his cum fills you. “Perfect fucking girl,” his words are blubbering sounds, mostly coming out between gasps and moans “Take me so well, made for me.” 
Din rolls you on top of him, letting you both catch your breaths while you cling to each other like it would be physically painful to be separated. His hand strokes up and down your back, skin warm to the touch but not for reasons he could think to criticize. Your eyes droop, the pleasure and feeling of domesticity seeping into your bones. “I love you, my moon.” you coo at him, sleep taking over your body. 
“I love you too, my sun..” he replies, his own body beginning to doze off, his hands still wrapped around your body.
149 notes · View notes
aretrothing · 2 years ago
Text
update: have found a separate keyboard and attached to to laptop. fic is now back on track and all 21k of it is now undergoing its first proper edit-and-go-through (it's far from being finished but it needs to happen for me to be satisfied)
this fic might be delayed even further because my g and h keys are bein complete arseholes to me at te moment
5 notes · View notes
huijutoi · 1 year ago
Text
Descriptive verbs : Fast movement in Olonets Karelian
Aijemba sanelin hiĺĺastu liikehty kuvailijoih verbilöih näh. Lövvät postavuksen tiä.
Earlier I wrote about verbs depicting slow movement. You will find the post here.
VERB LIST
to scurry, to storm in or out, to break into a run oijota, ojjendua, punalduo, šivetä
to lunge yrgävyö, yrrästyö, uattua
to start going faster ruojeta
to run about, to go fast sťoklata, ryntytä, ryńťitä, kettiä, hańńattua, šahrata, viďmuilla
to move quickly and lightly pirpettiä ~ birbettiä, bizbettiä
to move with long steps harpie, harpata
to pace mytäksennellä
to gallop, to run on fours ńeĺĺuta, myttiä, mytyldiä
to rut (male animals); to run after women (men) uvehťie
to slide quickly (eg. along ice) karata
to flow excessively, to cascade buhńie
EXAMPLE SENTENCES
Oigoimmo dorogah. We scurried onto the road. Hebo ojjendui matkah. The horse broke into a trot. Lapset pihale punaldettih. The children rushed outside. Vihmu šibeńi. It started to rain.
Rozboińiekku yrgävyi minun piäle. The thief lunged at me. Koiru uatui miehen jalgah. The dog attacked the man's leg. Uatuimmo ruadoh. We got to work. ("We attacked work")
Hebo ńygi ohjaksie da ruogeńi juoksemah. The horse pulled on the reins and broke into a gallop.
Lapset pihal paĺĺahin jaloin sťoklatah. The children run around barefooted on the yard. Kačos, ken juosta hańńattau vastah! Look who's running to us! Kažit šahratah yöt. The cats run around at night. Midäbö sinä sie viďmuilet? What are you running around there for? Ketimmö pagoh. We ran away.
Hebo birbettäy ruagiedu. The horse quickly trots. Jänöi pihoi myö birbettäy. The rabbit quickly runs along the yards. Lapset juostah bizbetetäh kodih. The children skitter home.
Naine kävelöy harpiu dorogua myö. The woman walks along the road with long steps. Kunne mennyh harpannuh. Wherever (he's) stormed off to. Mies harppuau, ei jovva ńi pagizemah. The man walks busily, he doesn't have time to chat.
Hebo mytäksendelöy, eib ole jalgua ruagieh. The horse paces, it can't trot. ("It doesn't have legs for trotting.")
Lehmät ńeĺĺuttih kui uruat liäväs piästettyy. Having been left out from the cowhouse, the cows galloped around like madmen. Kondii lyhyzil jalloil mytyldäy. The bear walks with its short legs.
Lapset karatah hurahtetah jiäl. The children slide along the ice.
Briha yöt päivät uvehťiu. The boy runs after girls day and night.
Vetty tulou buhńiu joves ihan kui. The river is flooding with water. Enämbiä et buhńi! Stop hustling! (Don't hustle more!)
6 notes · View notes