Half Eaten Star Fragment

Hello!! ^^

[halfeatenstarfragment]

Blog contains nsfw writing keep that in mind

Fandoms: TLOU, resident evil, silent hill, Danganronpa, Genshin, my hero academia, alien stage, and more!

I really like kpop 🤤

Will write for: danganronpa, mha,, TLOU, RE, and silent hill!

Won’t write: anything I don’t know, incest, amab reader, noncon, sc@t, vomit, and age play!

Dni: pedos, zoos, homophobes ,racists, anti-therian, anti yumeshipper and objectums (nothing personal it just makes me uncomfortable sorry yall)

Masterlist

Ao3 account

[cinnag1rl]

Sweetheart˚࿔

Tags: MDNI ,Best friends dad, Age gap (50s Joel x Early 20s reader) , handjob, blowjob,Come swallowing, Joels a pervert :( , Nicknames,(Sweetheart, kid,baby, darling) underwear fetish(is that what its called?), small oneshot

⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔

Joel swears he doesn’t anticipate seeing you whenever you come over to visit with Sarah, i mean, thats what he keeps telling himself so he doesn’t have to admit how he feels about you. But now, with your tiny, tinnyy bikini, and that thin line of boundary he forced himself to have against you slowly falling apart , how can he keep himself in place?

You met Sarah in the first year of college, and ever since then you were inseparable! So much so that every year since then Sarah was keen on inviting you over for monthly dinners whenever she’d go and visit and those dinners turned into regular visits to her dad’s house whenever she’d go too.

Now you two were staying at Joels house for a few days since summer break started and your third year of college had finally ended. Both of you were lying down next to the Miller’s pool enjoying the sun and tanning till the sunset.

“Gonna go take a nap after this, you coming?” Sarah asks as she sits up ready to head inside.

“Nah, just gonna go inside and change,” you answer and join Sarah inside where she instantly heads upstairs and goes to her bedroom and you see Joel in the kitchen cutting up tomatoes and various vegetables, which what’s presumably dinner and stop the say hi.

“Hey, Mr.Miller,”

“Hey, kid, Had fun out there?” He asks

“Yeah, Sarah went back up to take a nap before dinner,” you chuckle and watch as Joel leans against the counter.

“Right, you uh, gonna take a shower?” and just as he asks you you instantly watch him shamelessly check you out,trying to act cool as if you couldn’t see him ogling you.

“M’gonna go right now..” you murmur and head upstairs. You go and take a quick shower and change and leave your bikini in the laundry hamper, and quickly enter the guest bedroom (that you slept in whenever you’d visit) to get yourself ready for dinner.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

His patience was wearing thin when you came inside in your bikini, i mean can you blame him? His eyes were shamelessly eyeing you, his pants tightened as soon as you chuckled for him and went on as you talked to him about god knows what.

And when you went upstairs to shower he felt himself almost groaning in disappointment.

So once he heard you finish showering and then hearing the guest bedroom door closing shut, he instantly went upstairs with no second thought in his head.

Joels eye had landed on the left open hamper in the bathroom where your tiny bikini was left in, he knew it was messed up, i mean, he was up here ogling his daughters best friends bikini that she was wearing not even a few minutes ago. He looked back at the hallway, checking if you were there and instantly grabbed the two piece and shoved his face in the fabric.

And just like that Joel was in heaven, the fabric felt like a goddamn lifeline to him. Without a second thought he pulled down his pants and took out his thickkk hard cock,and instantly rubbed himself with the fabric.

Meanwhile, you finished getting ready and walked towards the bathroom to grab something you forgot, but you freezed the moment you heard groaning? You quietly peaked inside, and low and behold, Joel was stroking his thick cock as he leaned against the bathroom counter with what catches you off guard, your bikini bottom

You slowly open the door ready to figure what was going on.

“Mr Miller..?” you mumble as you fully open the door.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says slightly startled but his hand not even stopping.

“Mr Miller what are-“ you almost ask but instead he cuts you off,

“C’mere sweetheart, come help me,” he grunts as he eyes you, watching your face that was in pure shock his eyes moving downwards to your oversized shirt almost covering your shorts displaying your godly thighs.

You knew it was messed up, but god, could you even say no? I mean You knew Sarahs dad was hot from the moment you met him but you didn’t expect anything to happen. You pushed that thought away and closed the door behind you and got on yours knees in front of him and gripped his throbbing length.

Joel stared at you through half lidded eyes and a faint smirk on his face, watching as his daughters best friend got on her knees to give him a handjob.

“Fuckkkk, sweetheart,” he groans, his head falling back as your hand stroked his hard long dick, “Just like that darling,”

your hands stroking his length as he let out obscene groans and grunts, your hands pace obviously pleasuring the hell out of Joel.

“Mr Miller, we can’t-“

“S’gonna be alright darling, just keep focus on me baby,”

That instantly shut you up and had you continue moving your hand up and down his cock. His hands cupping your cheek, as his thumb intimately caressed your bottom lip, not taking his eyes off you.

“Fuck, sweetheart, switch to your mouth,”

You oblige and slowly take in his pre cum covered dick into your mouth and he lets out a louudd groan in response.

“Shiiittt, sweetheart, you been this fucking hungry for my cock, baby?” You try to nod your head as your head already bops up and down on his dick devouring his long length in full.

He lets out a chuckle as his head falls back from the pleasure.

“Fuck, didn’t know you were so good at at this baby,” his hand fisting your hair and guiding up and even deeper down on his dick, obscene wet and gulping noises coming from the delicious head your giving him. His hand rutting his dick even deeper in to your mouth for him, causing you to gag,

“Mrsh Milleeerrr-“ you gush out, your eyes fluttering shut as your head continues moving up and down, your mouth full not even forming proper sentences

“It’s alright baby, fuck you’re so beautiful,” he grunts, he pushes you slightly off , his hand thrusting his dick,

“Fuck, fuck, open your pretty mouth baby,”

And not a second later he shoots hot ropes of white liquid inside your mouth, shamelessly letting alllll the liquid fall on to your mouth. As the white warm liquid comes to a slow end Joel watches in delight as you sit there with your mouth open full of his cum,

“Swallow for me sweetheart,”

You swallow the liquid and he watches alllll that his sweet seed gulp down down your throat.

As you try to get up later and straighten yourself up and open the door to leave his hand slaps your ass and he shoos you outside before Sarah wakes up.

“Thanks for the help, sweetheart,”

No notes just best friends dad Joel

Edit: Fixed some spelling cause i was literally exhausted when i posted this🥲

Taglist! Tell me if i got a user wrong or if you want to be removed💗

@nutbutterjellie @biagaloree @justaprettyprincess @fuzzyfawnnn @katalinablossom @aria1108 @girlymoviegal @mrs-miller03 @dugiioh @tomtohee @wand-erer5 @pinterestwhore145 @hystericalanduseless9 @politeolive @severlysentientnova @anqieluv @lambe-rt

[cinnag1rl]

Joel has a breeding kink :(

𑣲⋆

“Cmon baby, just one,”

Joel always asks begs you,

Especially when he rams himself inside you. He’d be balls deep, your tight gummy walls squeezing his length as he thrusted himself inside and out your tight hole.

“Fuuuckk Joel- ,” you’d moan out gripping the bed sheets beneath your touch while he’d have you in a filthy doggy pose.

“Sho-Sho good Joel-“ you mumble, utterly cock drunk as he’d continuously ram himself in and out of you.

his throbbing length roughly and fastly penetrate you as your poor pussy gushes out your sweet sweet juices in return.

And the noises, god the noise, the filthy skin slaps with every thrust fill in the room causing your neighbours to once again complain about the lewd noise that was coming from upstairs every night.

Joel finds himself reaching his climax one you had finally come again which was the third time you had.. your legs shivering as as his thrusts turned rougher and faster and when he grunted out

“Fuck, baby.. Let me finish inside, please”

“Want you-shit- round n’ full with my kids, baby”

You nodded, eagerly begging for his fat cock to spill his sweet liquid deep inside your pussy.

“Fill me, Joel, please please- oh fuck,”

And just like that with a finally thrust Joel had spilled his warm milky ropes deep inside of you, his thrusts slowing down but not pulling away as he softly thrusted inside and out of you, whispering softly in your ear,

“Gunna make it stick baby, want you full and round with my kid,”

ᨳଓ~

And it wasn’t much of a surprise when the pregnancy test Joel had bought you when you had some faint morning sickness came back positive cause he knew how to make it stick.

Breeding kink might actually be my favourite thing ever omfg. Also i wrote this at the beach cause i hate getting in the water💪💪 #productiveaf + this wasn’t proof read:(

Taglist! Ig im tagging people in drabbles from now on oh well

@nutbutterjellie @biagaloree @justaprettyprincess @fuzzyfawnnn @katalinablossom @aria1108 @girlymoviegal @mrs-miller03 @dugiioh @tomtohee @wand-erer5 @pinterestwhore145 @hystericalanduseless9 @politeolive @severlysentientnova @anqieluv @lambe-rt

[enfermizada]

Skipping the storyline and going straight into the fucking part..

[loveletters2cowboys]

Yes, Father

Pairings: Priest! Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Father Miller finds your vibrator while doing dorm inspections and makes you use it while confessing your sins.

Warning: MDNI (18+), free use, improper use of rosary, use of stainless steel vibrating dildo, oral (f!recieving) mock sympathy, dub-con, orgasm denial, pussy slaps, priest Joel, priest kink, condescending praises, praise kink,overstimulation,vaginal stretching, asshole stretching, anal gaping, corruption kink, degradation, objectification, power imbalance, cum-eating, triple stimulation, rosary insertion, age gap, grumpy Joel, improper use of Bible verses, getting shamed for human nature, overstimulation, masturbation, use of pet name (little lamb), dacryphilia(mild), Boston QZ Joel, JOEL IS IN LATE 40S, READER IS IN MID 20S, internal stimulation, external stimulation, Joel is a perverted, internal penetration, external penetration, TENSION. (READ AUTHOR’S NOTE)

Author’s Note: Hello guys, I just wanted to add a disclaimer that my blogs do not reflect how JOEL MILLER acts in the series nor game. Sorry if this is unrealistic, I do not know much about the Catholic religion and I do not want to seem disrespectful to it. I just saw a priest Joel picture on pinterest and this idea came to mind. If the smut in this one-shot is too disrespectful I do not have a problem with taking this story down. I really hope you enjoy it! Sorry for any typos or errors, English isn't my first language and this is not edited. LISTEN TO TEACHER’S PET FOR THE FIRST PART AND YOUR GIRL BY LANA DEL REY FOR THE SECOND PART.

Word Count: 6.4k

The scrape of chairs echoed throughout the classroom as Father Miller gathered the stack of graded quizzes from the corner of his desk. He thumbed through the papers before clearing his throat. “Before I let y'all go,” Father Miller began, his deep southern drawl rough with effortless authority. “Here’s your results from last week’s quiz.”

You barely paid attention to him. You dragged the tip of your pen across the edge of your notebook, doodling meaningless swirls while you rested your cheek against your palm. He walked between the rows of desks, placing each paper down against the wooden desks.

You hated being at an all-girls Catholic university;every hour of every day seemed to be dictated by someone else. There were mandatory religion courses, weekly chapel attendance and curfews in the residence halls and enough rules to make you question whether you were an adult or a child. Every mistake felt like it carried the weight of failure instead of it simply being human nature.

Most of the students here seemed to thrive on this campus. They volunteered for campus ministry, answered Father Miller’s questions before he even finished asking them and somehow always looked excited to discuss scripture.

But for you, you counted the minutes until class ended because religion wasn't your strongest subject to begin with. Father Miller’s course required you to memorize historical context and essays that connected scripture to everyday life. Every assignment and quiz asked questions that were impossible to answer.

The polished leather of Father Miller’s boots halted right beside your desk before your quiz landed in front of you with a loud smack.

You softly flinched as you briskly looked up at his towering frame. Your gaze settled on Joel’s captivating face, watching as his lips pressed together with a quiet disapproval written on his expression.

Father Miller rested two fingers on the paper before gradually sliding them across the paper with the failing grade. This disappointing bold 35% stared back at you from the top of the page.

“Stay after class.” Father Miller ordered as his dark eyes held you in place. “We need to have a serious talk.”

“Okay.” You quietly said while straightening your posture against the rigid plastic of the chair.

His jaw flexed almost unnoticeably before he continued down the row.

You let out a slow breath as you lowered your gaze down to the paper. You weren't even surprised that Father Miller placed another failed quiz onto your desk but it would only be a matter of time before you are put on a strict academic probation.

The university made it painfully clear that students were required to maintain a minimum GPA and pass every required religion course. Father Miller’s class was mandatory and If your grade didn’t improve soon, you could lose your place at the university altogether if it stayed where it was.

The realization settled heavily in your chest as you fidgeted with the pen before dropping it in the center of your notebook.

The room was loaded with chatter as girls whispered excitedly, comparing their passing grades to each other.

Father Miller eventually returned to the front of the room, setting the remaining quizzes down before clasping his calloused hands together.

“That’s all for today.” He declared while unhurriedly sweeping his gaze across the classroom. “Remember to read Romans before next Monday.”

The room resumed into conversation as backpacks zipped shut and chairs scraped across the aged wooden floors. Within a few minutes, the classroom emptied until it was only the two of you that remained.

You swallowed the lump of uncertainty forming in your throat as you continually glanced at the failing grade, pretending not to notice Father Miller watching you. He quietly strolled to the classroom’s door and pulled it closed behind the last student.

You gathered your notebook before carrying it to the front, choosing the chair directly across from his desk.

The latch of the door finally clicked as a comfortless silence evolved in the room. He walked back over to his desk but he didn't sit down. Instead, he leaned against the edge of his desk while folding his muscle-shielded arms across his broad chest, his biceps unintentionally flexing under the tight fabric of his shirt.

“You know…”Father Miller paused as if he was searching for the right words to say. “Faith without discipline doesn't get many things accomplished.” His gaze remained on you, watching as you nervously crossed your legs over each other.

You didn’t reply as you lowered your gaze to your skirt-covered thighs.

“You never turn assignments in on time.” He started. “You fail every test I put in front of you.” He gestured toward the quiz sitting on your notebook. “You are late to my lectures then spend the next hours looking out the window like a lost puppy.”

“It’s nothing.” You shamefully mumbled as your damp palms found their way to the cotton of your plaid skirt.

“It ain't nothing?” He repeated in a condescending tone as his eyes narrowed slightly at you. “Sister Rena caught you in the back of the garden smoking instead of being in my class.”

Your fingers instinctively tightened around the material of your skirt as heat crept up your neck. There wasn't much you could debate on because he was accurate about everything he was stating.

Father Miller studied you before letting out a heavy breath through his nose.

Father Miller studied your face for another moment before letting out a quiet breath through his nose. He then glanced at the silver watch around his thick wrist while looking back at you.

“If you don't want to talk now, that is fine.” He said, his voice remained calm but there was enough firmness behind it to make you shift in your seat. “But things aren't looking too good for you if this keeps up, little lamb.” He added before pushing himself off from the desk.

“It won't happen again.” The words slipped off your tongue snappier than you planned.

He halted after he started walking to the chalkboard, offering you an extended stare. “I’ve heard that one before.” He stated, his voice sounding severely dissatisfied. He brought his attention to the blackboard before picking up the dry-eraser.

The tension between the two of you came back as you didn't reply. Father Miller slowly rubbed the felt eraser against the board, removing any remaining chalk marks. “Actions have consequences.”

Your heart forgot its rhythm as he turned back to you after placing the eraser back down. “I’ll be in the chapel this afternoon.” He said before gradually strolling up to you, his hands sliding into the pockets of his dark trousers. “I want you there.”

“Okay, Father…”You said in a quiet response as you gathered your belongings and hastily rose from the chair.

Father Miller stepped right in front of you, his commanding frame towering over you and blocking you from being able to exit the narrow row between the desk.

He was so near you that you could almost feel his warmth radiating on your prickled skin.

“And when you come, you better have an honest reason for why you’re failing my class.” He said as his darkened green eyes pierced through your soul. Before you could reply, he stepped out of your way and proceeded to pick up textbooks from some of the desks, signaling that the conversation was over.

You slipped the straps of your backpack over your shoulders and strolled away to the door, eager to put as much distance between you and this hell of a classroom. You gathered your notebook and slid the failing quiz between its pages before quietly stuffing everything into your backpack.

You barely made it to the door before his deep voice prompted you to stop. “One more thing, little lamb.” He said but paused when you started to slowly turn around to face him.

Father Miller’s eyes lowered from your face to the hem of your uniform skirt while placing the textbooks onto the dense wooden shelves.

He let out a low sigh before pinching the bridge of his scarred nose, as if he was already tired of having to say it. “That skirt’s too short.” Disgrace sat in his controlling tone.

“It shrunk in the wash,” You explained under your breath as your hands flew to the back of your thighs, instinctively tugging the fabric lower.

A skeptical hum came out of him, telling you he didn't believe a word from you. “Get it fixed before Sister Mary writes you up.”He ordered, his presence so powerful that it made you squirm.

“I will.”

For a brief second, Father Miller raised his eyebrows in wonder before nodding once and dragging his attention back to the books on the shelf.

Without hesitation, you slipped out into the hallway, already knowing you’d spend the rest of the day wondering why his opinion about your skirt had embarrassed you far more than the failing grade ever did.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

With a reluctant sigh, you halted in front of the aged wooden doors, chewing on your lip as you rehearsed explanations in your head.

The heavy wooden doors groaned when you pushed them open. Warm air drifted over your body, carrying the familiar scent of old wood, melted candle wax and incense. The sunset filtered through the stained-glass windows, scattering collars across the wooden floor.

Father Miller stood near the altar with his back toward you, he seemed deep in thought until the door clicked shut behind you.

“You are late, little lamb.” He said as he turned his attention to you, his Southern drawl echoed through the empty chapel.

You swallowed and began strolling up the center aisle, your shoes clicking against the floor with every slow step. “Sorry, I had something to turn in.” Father Miller watched you approach without saying another word.

When you finally stopped a few feet away, he brought his eyes toward the door of the chapel before looking back at you.

“I spoke with Sister Mary.” He said before clearing his throat as sliding his hands into the pockets of his dress trousers.

You blinked up at him as you awkwardly shifted your weight; your heart was hammering against your rib cage.

“They are discussing removing you from the university.” He said as he took a few steps closer to you, his tall frame towering over you.

“What…no…” You breathed out as your shoulders immediately sagged as the reality settled in.

“I asked her to hold off.” He chimed in before you spiraled.

You halted as you pulled your eyebrows together in perplexity, searching his face. His eyebrows remained furrowed, deepening the creases of irritation on his face. “Why?” You inquired.

“Because I see a great potential in you.” His sentences caught you off guard. You expected disappointment, especially when coming from him. Instead his tone held something almost reassuring under his sternness. “Every one of your professors speaks highly of you.” He trailed off as he shook his head slightly. “You pass those classes without much trouble.” He continued as he proceeded with motioning over to the altar, his fingertips brushing along the wooden edge.

“So why are you failing mine?” He raised the question, stopping beside the altar.

Your mouth opened but an answer refused to come out. Every last explanation you had spent all afternoon rehearsing vanished under his intense gaze.

Father Miller waited, slightly tilting his head as his tongue poked against the inner flesh of his cheek. A sigh escaped him before he nodded to himself. “Still don't have a reason?” He questioned as he leaned against the altar, not once taking his eyes off of you.

“No Father.” You quietly answered as you brought your attention back down to your Mary Janes to avoid his gaze pinning you.

As an uncomfortable silence evolved in the room, he clicked his tongue while narrowing his eyes at you. “Is there something you’d like to confess?”

“No…” You said, the words almost came out as a whisper.

“That’s right?” He challenged.

You gave him a single nod before bringing your hands into each other, fidgeting with your fingers as heat crept up your neck.

Neither of you spoke for a brief moment resulting in the silence in the chapel to stretch; the only thing audible was the faint ticking of an old clock near the entrance.

“Okay.” He simply replied before leaning off of the altar and making his way to the small oak table beside it.

Every muscle in your body relaxed as you thought the worst of the conversation might finally be over.

Your eyes followed him as he opened one of the chipped wooden drawers, humming in amusement. When Father Miller pulled out your stainless-steel vibrator that was precisely molded into the shape of a small cock, your heart nearly dropped.

He held it between his fingers before darting his gaze back at you. “Now…”He muttered as he slowly turned it over, examining it beneath the warm light of the chapel. “If sister Mary was the one doing dorm inspections instead of me…”

“I bought it as a joke.” You blurted out as embarrassment flooded through your veins.

Father Miller stopped examining the steel vibratorto dart his attention to you. “You bought it as a joke?” He echoed your explanation before huffing a humorless laugh.

“Yes Father.” You replied as you nodded quickly.

“Then explain why it was hidden in the back of your dresser.” He said, the doubtful look across his features made it clear he wasn't convinced.

Your fingers picked nervously at the edge of your sleeve, not being able to think of anything to say.

“You're lucky that I was the one assigned to inspect your room.”Father Miller said while stepping closer to you, toying with the vibrator against his large palm. His thumb brushed over the flared end that had the button for the vibrator settings as he gave you a long look.

“Have you been using it?” He asked as the pad of his finger ghosted over the button in interest.

“No.” You breathed out in unwillingness, finally drifting your attention away from his glance.

“Look at it.” He mumbled as his eyes immediately returned to yours, waiting for you to obey.

At his demand, your gaze naturally dropped toward the faint stains marking the stainless steel.

“It’s all stained so don't lie to me.” He lifted the vibrator up to your face, forcing you to take a better look at the series of dull stains left behind from your cunt’s juices excessively leaking on it. “Because when you stand in the chapel and lie, you ain't just lying to me.” He elucidated while glancing briefly toward the crucifix above the altar.

“I used it….” You hesitated before admitting the truth. “I got tempted and gave in anyway.”

Father Miller nodded, as if he’d expected you to eventually tell him the truth. He didn't reply immediately, he just brought his other hand to his trimmed beard, skimming the tip of his fingers against the hairs that streaked with grey.

“Temptation’s real,” He broke the silence, his rough draw carrying a calmness you hadn't heard from him once all semester. “But you have to learn how to respond when it comes.” Father Miller said as his fingers continued to toy with the steel.

“I know I failed.” You said.

“You did, little lamb.” He replied, the bluntness made your lips press together. “That's where repentance comes in and you acknowledge what you did and take responsibility for it.” He said as he gestured the toy towards you. “Use it.”

“What?” You asked as you blinked up at him in astonishment, your tone lower than aimed for it to be.

“Go on.”He closed the small distance between the two of you before reaching for one of your hands and placing the cold, rigid steel in your damp palm.

“Father in front of you?” You question too stunned to process what you’d just heard as your hands clutched around the shaft of the small molded cock.

“Yes.” He replied. “Like I said, the first step is acknowledgement.”

You looked up at him for a second, swallowing hard beneath his gaze before forcing yourself toward the table.

Father Miller tracked your every movement as you leaned against the wood. A surge of shame coursed through you before you unhurriedly brought the toy up to your lips. You spat right on the tip, making your warm saliva evenly blanket the steel.

Father Miller rubbed his thumb against his knuckles as he watched your smooth lips wrap around the toy.

You lapped your tongue around the steel tip before welcoming the toy entirely into your mouth. A soft gag escaped your throat as the cock bullied the back of your throat. You then bobbed your head against the toy causing a ring of saliva to form at the corner of your mouth.

After a few moments, you pulled back until only your mouth suctioned against the rigid tip. While Father Miller’s gaze scorched against your sweaty skin as you eventually dragged it from between your lips, a line of saliva connected you to the toy.

You halted as you looked up at him through your lashes, waiting for his judgment.

“That’s all?” He asked. “Do you think I was born yesterday?”

“No Father..” Though the air was incredibly warm in the chapel, goosebumps still managed to prickle across your skin. You slid into the edge of the table before setting both feet at each corner of the table without another word.

From the angle you spread out in, your skirt had no choice but to hike up your body, pooling around the small of your waist. Father Miller’s eyes traveled down your body before pausing right between your thighs. Your underwear was wet; a darkened line from your slick ran down the center of the cotton, pathetically revealing your arousal.

You heard his breath caught in his chest as you eventually peeled the damp cotton to the side, uncovering your glistening pussy. Your fingers rested on the flared end of the toy, switching on the vibration settings. Without hesitation, the steel started vibrating, a low buzz reverberating in the air. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat as you looked down at your damp mess of a cunt before delicately running the cold tip against your lips. You lazily circled the toy around your swollen bud, prompting your hips to instinctively buckle from the mild vibrating stimulation. Your body responsively stiffened as the low vibrations of the steel cock buzzed against your cunt.

Your breath evolved into unsteady patterns as you unhurriedly brought the wand up to your swollen bud, the low vibration buzzed directly on the nerve. A breathy whimper left your lips as the continuous vibrations sent a knot to construct in your lower stomach.

You immediately knew you weren’t going to last long.

You never did.

Father Miller stood there with a sharp unreadable expression, watching you nurse your perfect pussy.

You threw your head back in euphoria as a soft moan rolled off your tongue. You pressed the tip of the toy firmer against your clit, craving more of the vibration it was providing to your throbbing point.

The ecstatic sensation in your lower belly continued to build rapidly. You whimpered out a breath that was caught in your chest as you rubbed the wet steel around the sensitive nerve.

You slowly proceeded to drag the tip away from your swollen clit and towards the entrance of your clenching pussy. Your face creased in pleasure as the desire in you burned like a rapid fire. Your legs quivered as the vibration against your entrance forced thick fluids to leak out of you and coat the oak table.

“Is…is this enough, Father Miller?”You choked out as you pressed the tip against your hole; the tightness of your walls refused to make the toy go in any further than the tip.

“Does it feel like enough?” He raised a question, his deep Southern drawl rough as he took a few steps forward. He halted between your legs as his gaze lowered to your cunt forming a creamy ring around the head of the toy already.

You blinked up at him with parted lips as longing flushed over you, tempting you to push the toy deeper into you. In an instant, your eyes widened as you yelped at the foreign stinging sensation.

You never inserted the toy before.

Sweat began rolling down your neck as your chest heaved laboriously. You steadily plunged the vibrating toy deeper into your hungry cunt, too eager to give your walls a moment to adjust to the new stretch.

Father Miller’s calloused hands found their way to the back of your thighs in silence, spreading your legs further apart. The warm air of the chapel fanned against your cunt as the toy now had an opportunity to sink deeper into your tight pussy. His piercing gaze focused on the mess between your legs, attentively monitoring the way your pussy needily swallowed up the entire girth of the steel until only the flared end was visible.

Another severe wave of ecstasy settled low in your stomach as the smooth tip vibrated right against a delicate spot up against your wall. Your trembling legs made an effort to clamp but Father Miller securely held them open.

A puff of air escaped through your nose as your cunt cried from the buzzing stimulation, bringing your thickened fluids to drop down to the table.

You left the toy in you, letting your walls finally mold the shape of the vibrating rigid steel. A breathy squirm escaped your lips as your body constricted and pussy pulsed from how near your orgasm was.

You then trailed your hands up your slick-coated lips, spreading them open until your throbbing clit slightly rose from its hood. You two held eye contact as he dragged his tongue briefly along the inside of his cheek, watching you unravel into a moaning mess.

“Get off the table and bend over.”He ordered sternly, his hands finally loosening their grip on your thigh as he stepped back. “Leave the toy in.”

You quickly obeyed, sliding off the edge of the table before bending over so you were back to being fully exposed to him. Your cheeks burned under his gaze as he gave a brief, approving nod before turning away. A loud moan escaped your lips as the vibration became more potent due to the angle you were in, relentlessly buzzing against the precious, spongy area in you. Your mouth continually fell open as you glanced over your shoulder at him, immediately catching the way his hardened expression settled over his sharp features.

Father Miller then motioned over to the altar before reaching for his wooden rosary then returning to you.

“What is lust, little lamb?” He inquired. “It was one of the many questions you got wrong in the exam.”

“A sin…it’s a sin…” You managed to choke out, not being able to reply to your best advantage because your body was concentrating on chasing your building release.

“We all know that,” He said as he grazed the wooden beads of his rosary over the curve of your back. “Explain why it's a sign.” He mumbled as he hauled it down to the fat of your ass then inner thigh.

“Because it gives you an overpowering craving.” You replied as your walls helplessly clamped around the vibrating steel. Your hips jerked as he carried the wooden beads through your puffy folds, deliberately coating them in your slick.

“And?” He continued, his tone indicating that he wasn’t too happy with the shortness of your explanation.

“Please…I don't know…” You whimpered.

“How pathetic.” Father Miller tssked before shifting the rosary away from your pussy, halting it right at the rim of your unused asshole. His thumb and the bead ghosted the delicate, clenching flesh before he spat directly on the hole. He then smeared the thickness of his warm saliva around the rim before it had a chance to roll down to your stuffed cunt.

“I’ll tell you why.” He muttered before pressing the wet wood right against your asshole. “It reduces a whole person into a physical object for personal pleasure." He explained before unhurriedly stuffing the first bead into your hole.

The unfamiliar sensation drove your knees to immediately buckle as your untrained hole desperately stretched around the wood, entirely swallowing the bead.

“And it distracts the mind from higher moral and spiritual focus.” He added before pushing another one of the slick-covered beads against your rim, prompting your hole to open up for him.

“Father..”You wailed out in euphoria as your hole frantically created more room for him to fit another one into you. Your rim stung in a pleasurable discomfort as you sank your teeth into your bottom lip, biting back your frequent moans.

“It’s okay, you are taking everything so well.” He cooed as he gently pushed the last few beads in the hole.

You were now full of his rosary beads.

You struggled to stand still as the buildup in your lower stomach was about to release, forcing your walls to frantically spasm in wave-like motions around the vibrator and beads.

“Here’s what I want you to do, little lamb.” He spoke as his eyes lingered on your tightly clenched hands in fulfillment. “Quote every verse you can think of that explains why lust is a sin.” He instructed as his calloused palms slowly guided up the smooth skin of your ass.

His delicate touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, awakening every nerve within you.

“You need to understand the roots of what you're up against.” He said that when he noticed your tremendous hesitancy.

You clamped your eyes shut as you desperately made an attempt to gather yourself and put your brain to work.

“Well…first..”You let out an audible moan as your nails clawed against the oak table. Your lips remained parted but not another sound was able to come out as your hips jerked from the feeling evolving in you.

“Go on…”

“Matthew 5:28…” You choked out, feeling your juices leak down your inner thigh before saturating the top material of your knee-high socks.

“Mhm?” He attentively hummed before bringing one of his hands in between your quivering thighs and switching the vibrator to the second setting; a mode you never dared to surpass.

You immediately attempted to lean off the table and stand straight but his other hand flew to the middle of your back, firmly pinning you to the hardwood.

“Everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” You rushed out in one extended breath before clamping your thighs shut to ease the excessive pleasure from the dual stimulation.

He immediately gave the inside of your legs a hard nudge, forcing your legs to widen again.

“Is that all your pretty little brain could think of?” He asked, his voice carrying a dry, condescending edge. A deep, humorless chuckle escaped his mouth as he slowly shook his head. “You know I expect better than that.”

Your heart rate increased as sweat endlessly rolled down your temple. “Galatians 5:19.” you stuttered as you felt the rough pad of his thumb slide between your folds before settling right on your pulsing bud.

“It says the works of the flesh and lust are right at the top, showing it pushes us away from the Spirit." You brainlessly trailed off, trying to come up with the right words as his thumb started delicately circling your throbbing point.

A groan of disappointment came from deep within his chest as he switched the vibrator to the third setting. “It speaks about sexual immorality and impurity but lust specifically isn't the exact word used there.”

In response, you whimpered at the pleasure of the tip of the toy providing continuous vibration to your delicate walls.

“What’s next?”

“Proverbs 6:25.” You breathed out as your hips jolted from his thumb applying excessive pressure to your swollen nerve. “Do not lust in your heart after her beauty or let her captivate you with her eyes.”

Before Father Miller told you if you were right or wrong, you felt the settings switch into a higher vibration. You practically cried out as the euphoric sensation drove every muscle in your body to twitch. Your pussy didn't stand a chance against the deeper wave of vibration patterns.

“It was Job.” He corrected with a quiet note of disturbance as if he couldn't believe he had to explain it again. “One more.”

“Corinthians 6:18.” You replied as your hips instinctively rocked against his thumb. “Flee from sexual immorality…a sexually immoral person sins against their own body.”

“Precise when you’re under pressure, hm?” He taunted, his Southern drawl thick with mockery. He gave your aching clit a few firm slaps, causing your body to almost twist away from his torture on your clit.

“So you can do good when it matters,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “You just choose not to most of the time?” He questioned like he'd just caught you proving his point before pulling away.

A breathy squirm escaped your lips as your body constricted from how intensely your orgasm was about to wash over you. “I'll be good whenever you want.” You blurted, turning mindless as the consistent vibration in you resulted in your body suddenly pulling tight as an arrow. “I'm cumming…forgive me, Father.” You glanced at him like a lost puppy.

“No you aren't, hold it in.” He ordered as he folded his arms across his broad chest. “Show me how much of a good girl you truly can be.” He didn't take his eyes off you as he watched you fight to stay bent over on the table.

“I can't…”You admitted as your moans became labored; your orgasm wasn't slowing down.

“If you cum…you are going to wish you didn't.”He cautioned, planting his rough hands onto your ass. “I’ll make sure to get every last orgasm out of you.” He added before widely spreading your cheeks apart, admiring the creamy mess your pussy was creating.

Your heart hammered against your chest as you forced yourself to count backward in your head so you didn't cum. You confused the numbers while the rush of ecstasy coursed through you.

“And you’re making a damp mess,” Father Miller remarked, his eyes dropping to your juices leaking down to your socks. “Uncleanliness is next to ungodliness, little lamb,” he stated, a faintness of teasing in his voice as he glanced back at you.

Before you could respond, he lowered himself to the floor with a grunt. “Now I’m gonna have to clean you up.”His breath aired against the skin of your thigh before he took a long lick from your inner thighs up to your pulsing nerve ending. The moment his slick-covered tongue began lapping around your swollen clit, you were pushed to your release.

Sweat was dripping off your body as your throbbing cunt clamped tightly from the variety of stimulation.

“I’m so sorry Father…” You repeated your apology in a weak moan as you shamelessly came on his tongue. Your breathing hitched as the euphoria that had piled in your lower stomach finally burst. In an instant, your needy whimpers continually rolled off your tongue as your body went sluggish and legs jerked from the extreme pleasure.

“Obeying is better than sacrifice, I warned you.” He said before leaching his soft lips onto your sensitive clit, not giving your aftershocks a chance to kick in. “Confess.” He grunted between sucks as his hands gripped your hips in a rough hold, inching you closer to his face.

As the vibrations overstimulated you, you hastily brought your hands behind you in an attempt to slide the toy out of your overworked cunt. “Please, too much to handle…i can't.” In response, he held on to your hand, using it as an anchor to bury his face deeper against your pussy.

“Action has consequences when you are disobedient.” He then commented as he pulled back to catch his breath. “So start confessing.”

A guttural moan broke out of your mouth as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your body wriggling away from him. The vibrator continued buzzing in you while Father Miller latched his lips back on you, his mouth following you wherever you twisted to.

As he sucked on you, he flicked his tongue directly on your swollen bud.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” You cried out as your body tensed at how strongly he was sucking you. “It’s been 7 days since my last confession.”

He groaned against your clit while delivering consistent licks to your bud. Your body twitched against his hot mouth as his beard scraped against your folds.

“I confess my sins of engaging in the act of lust.” You rasped as your legs quivered from another orgasm arriving deep in you. The moans that escaped out your mouth got louder the second he delicately bit down on your clit.

Your walls pathetically clamped down around the steel girth of the toy as the knot in your stomach quickly coiled again.

“I had impure thoughts and gave into the temptation.” You wailed out in bliss before digging your nails into the flesh of your palm.

The sound of your wet cunt gushing against his mouth reverberated through the chapel as he shook his head against your pussy. With that action, you knew you weren't going to last too long.

“I’m greatly sorry.” You gulped as your entire body buckled from the excessive amount of suction he was providing your clit with.

He grunted at the sweet taste of you, shoving you even closer to his lips. You attempted to move away from his touch due to how sensitive you were. Moving didn't do much because of the tough grip on your arm and hip.

His warm saliva saturated between the crevices of your folds as he skillfully feasted on you, repeatedly flicking your bud without any mercy.

“I detest all my sins out of fear of thy punishment.” In daze, you ended the confession as your toes curled from the sensation of him lapping his tongue around your overstimulated clit.

“I absolve you of your sins.” He replied to your confession before creating a strong suction on the nerve.

Your thighs nearly clamped shut again as he devoured your cunt like it was his last meal. Your next orgasm was coming faster than you anticipated. You let out a sob; the triple stimulation ripened a tangle of bliss in you as Father Miller pushed you over your limit.

“Cum for me, little lamb.” He ordered between a suck before flicking his tongue on your aching nerve. “Give me that orgasm.”

“Yes, father.” You strained out as you rocked harder against his face. Your body tightened mightily at the ecstatic release while he circled his tongue around your swollen clit.

Your orgasm hit you like a brick before waves of pleasure crammed into every nerve of your body. Your body went limp as you felt him gradually start to pull the vibrating steel out of your stretched cunt. A sob left your throat as your chest frantically heaved. Every nerve in your body buzzed as your walls spasmed around the wooden beads while the aftershocks came in.

He licked your puffy bud a few kitten licks, helping you ride out your orgasm. When your breathing eventually stabilized, he finally detached his lips from your pussy.

In exhaustion, you rested your head against the oak, blankly blinking at all the empty pews in the chapel as you gradually came down from your high.

From behind you, you heard him switch the vibration settings off before pressing himself right against your sweaty body. Your body stiffened when you felt the girth of his shaft right on your ass. He leaned forward while snaking his hands into your frizz hair, holding it in a loose ponytail. “Clean your mess up.” He instructed as he brought the vibrator that was covered in your thick fluids up to your lips.

You swiftly obeyed his order, wrapping your lips around the steel that was now warm from your body heat. The immediate citrus taste of yourself struck your taste buds as you sucked harder.

You bobbed your head up and down, the tip hitting the back of your throat. He then shoved it deeper into your mouth, earning a gag to escape from your throat. For a few seconds, he kept the toy in your mouth, forcing your mouth to produce an excessive amount of saliva that it started to messily roll down to your chin.

“I expect to see you here every Friday.”

——————————————————————————

Taglist: @strawberrylipglossx , @stargirl331 , @haloramyun , @drabbotsweetheart , @pedrofan , @4ngelarchive , @an5559275555gel @shrewdreader @readerlover-x @alyloops @untamedheart81 @speaktothehandpeasants @k-d--h

[controversiallyyoungergf]

Something something size kink with Joel Miller something something…

18+ below the cut

“‘s too big, Joel,” you whine, pushing his hips back, his cock practically splitting you in half.

He grips your wrists, pinning your hands above your head.

“Don’t you ever push me away like that, got it?” He says lowly, eyes piercing into yours.

You just nod in response, ever the good girl, wanting to please him.

“You can take it,” he says, voice gruff, hips pulling back before driving into you harshly, your chest bouncing with the force of it. “I decide when it’s too much.”

His words shouldn’t affect you the way they do—your cunt clenching around him, eliciting a groan.

“Fuck, sweetheart, squeezing me so tight.”

His hand moves down to press a palm against your lower stomach, the action making everything that much more intense as you can feel the outline of his cock bulging through your stomach.

“You feel that, angel?” His breath is hot against your ear as he speaks. “Feel my cock stretching you open? Taking it sooo good for me.”

[s0wxt]

abby is so hot idc if it’s basic either

[abbystanaccount]

Abby with a ponytail!

[lanadelreyylover]

Retail Therapy

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Brat!Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: When the two of you have a nasty fight the night before, you take Chris's bank card out for a day on the town. As he sees the transactions roll in on his phone, he decides he has to come home and teach you a lesson. Word Count: 2.6k Based on this request from @lostdreamsx (sorry this took for-freaking-ever, but it was a labor of love, trust)

“Whose phone keeps buzzing?” Chris barks across the table, the sound of his interruption bouncing off the concrete walls of the briefing room. There’s red-hot anger in his voice, and he realizes he’s still harboring some leftover emotions from the fight the two of you had last night, the cold shoulder you gave him this morning as you both got ready for the day, side by side but without speaking or making eye contact. He doesn’t even remember the catalyst of the argument, just that, in hindsight, it was silly and things were blown way out of proportion. 

Every tiff starts the same way: he forgot to fix something around the house, or he smoked inside the house, maybe he’s been coming home from work late and you feel neglected. It’s always a trivial matter that ends in an explosion–you yelling, waving your arms in the air, voice as frantic as your gesticulations. He doesn’t match your fire, however. He keeps his control tight in his fist like a leash, taking the beating you give him. 

You’re too pretty to yell at, so he yells at his men instead. They can take it. 

“Huh? I asked whose fuckin’ phone keeps interrupting this meeting.”

He watches intently as some of his men glance around the room, others resigning their gaze to their laps, the floor, their own reflections on the surface of the table. 

Baker finally has the gall to clear his throat and speak. “I think it’s yours, Captain,” he says, pointing to Chris’s phone, resting on the table in front of him. 

Chris sighs, mumbling an apology into his hands, feeling like a fool for not realizing sooner that the chirping was coming from his own device, only a foot away. 

“What the fuck?” He mutters under his breath, finger nearly cramping at the amount of notifications he has to scroll through. They’re all from the same application. His bank. And they all read the same message. 

Recent Transaction. Plus an exorbitant amount of money, in red, with a minus sign in front of it. 

“Something wrong, cap?” Smith asks, narrowing his eyes to read the contorted expression on his Captain’s face.

Chris shakes his head, eyes still glued on the illuminated screen. He scrolls down the recent transactions page on his banking app, eyes nearly crossing as they try to focus on the individual purchases. 

One after the other. Triple digits, sometimes a comma separating a number that makes his gut twist. Names of stores he only recognizes from the glossy shopping bags you leave littered around the bedroom, the floor of the closet for him to trip over. 

Is this how you have decided to punish him today? By taking the card he gave you, an authorized user on his bank account, and going on a shopping spree? 

You bought clothing items that weren’t even in your correct size, blouses that you would never wear, accessories that won’t fit into your jewelry box, trousers that were half an inch too short on your legs. It was like taking a hit of a drug every time you swiped that card–so depraved that inserting a piece of plastic into a machine and hearing it chime could make you feel so euphoric. Not to mention the molten gold that ran through your veins when the satin handle of the shopping bag was placed in your hand. 

“We only have these in the half size above or below yours,” the saleswoman says, the corners of her painted lips falling into a frown, her hands clasped against her chest as she delivers the disappointing news. 

For a moment, your shoulders sink as you grieve the pair of pumps you had been eyeing on the display stand–a pretty satin pair you’ll never have the occasion to wear unless invited to a ball at Versailles, but would look pretty sitting on a shelf in your closet regardless. Then, you cut your eyes toward the mountain of shopping bags on the chair beside you. The entire morning has consisted of you hopping from store to store like a bunny on speed, swiping and tapping and inserting to purchase items that make no rational sense to buy. A half-size too small didn’t stop you earlier. Why quit while you’re ahead?

“They’ll stretch,” you respond sweetly with a smile, taking the box in your hands.

She furrows her brows. “I don’t think that material will–”

“I’ll take them.” 

As the woman remembers that her commission is on the line, she nods, taking the shoe box up to the register to scan and place in a bag. You stand up, grappling with your prior delights, all wrapped in tissue paper and gloss, taking the handles into your fists as you walk to the counter to complete the sale.

Another tap. Another cha-ching. Another wave of dopamine right to the brain. 

A diamond tennis bracelet. A pair of matching earrings. A babydoll slip you’ll torment him with later. 

You told the shopkeeper it was a gift so she would wrap it in specialty paper and a big, satin bow, just for you to tear into like a kid on Christmas morning when you returned home.

The salon smelled like acetone and bleach as you got a fresh manicure and pedicure, and a blow out as bouncy as the clouds in the sky, leaving a very generous tip as you practically skipped out the door. As you admired your fresh makeover, the card in your wallet felt a bit lighter.

A booming voice echoes your name through the downstairs hallway, the sound punctuated by the click of the lock, the door shutting to a close, and a pair of thick-soled boots being taken off and placed on the hardwood floor.

It’s four o’clock. He’s home early. 

And you’re in trouble. 

“Get down here, please.” 

The tone of his voice all but shares the politeness of the message. So you wait. 

Another shout of your name.

Your eyes bug wide as you remain settled on the closet floor amid the fortress you have created from shopping bags, crumpled tissue paper, ribbons of receipts, and shoe boxes. Heavy footsteps make their way up the stairs, down the hall, heading toward you. 

“What the fuck?” Chris asks as he appears in the doorframe, taking a look around the closet, which was already busting at its seams and hinges before your little spree. There’s genuine shock in his words, as though he’s concerned you bought out the entire city. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?” 

“Hmm.” Your lips pucker into a pout as you turn away, pivoting your body back to the wool sweater you were folding into a neat square, tags still attached. It’s July…

He says your name once more. “Don’t look away from me while I’m talking to you.” 

And yet you do. To punish him some more. To tempt him. 

He attempts to come to you, stepping over the mountains and valleys of the spread, nearly tripping over the discarded lid of a box, almost slipping on a loose sheet of crepe paper. 

“Shit–” he curses, deciding to stay on the clear side of the barrier you’ve created, not wanting to add to his humiliation by slipping on a sheet of silk strewn on the floor. “Can we talk?”

“No, leave me alone,” you bite, glancing over your shoulder. He’s standing with his hands on his hips, a conflicted look in his eyes. It is decidedly less conflicted, however, when he points his finger to the empty patch of space beside him.

“Get over here right now.”

“Make me,” you bark back, immediately regretting the words, knowing that Chris has never been one to back down from a challenge you present him. 

Chris growls–a deep, ursine sound that, if you weren’t still so mad at him, would shoot straight to your core. It does anyway, and you can feel the damp patch on your panties spread across the lace gusset, a betrayal of your anger. Yet you don’t banish it away. 

He stomps over the pile of evidence, grabbing you off the floor by hooking two arms under yours. 

“Hey–” 

His hands move to find your waist, pivoting you until the two of you are face to face and there’s nowhere to hide. 

“Look at me,” he commands, as if you’re one of his men at their captain’s mercy. “What is going on?” 

You refuse once more, cutting your eyes to the side, though it’s difficult not to melt under his voice, the warmth of his strong yet gentle hands on your figure. 

“You don’t want to talk this out like adults? Fine.” He picks you up by your midsection, and tosses you over his shoulder, slapping your ass hard before he stomps out of the room. 

You’d be lying if you said a part of you wasn’t planning on this. 

“Dealing with a fucking child,” he bellows under his breath as he throws you onto the bed. You land on your back, bouncing once on the mattress. You quickly turn from your seat onto your hands and knees, attempting to crawl to the headboard for safety. A futile endeavor, because the next thing you know, there are a pair of calloused hands on your hips, dragging you back. His fingers snake around your waist to unravel the tie of your satin robe, yanking the fabric straight off your back. 

You glance over your shoulder to see your husband nearly buckle at the sight of the lingerie beneath it: a white babydoll slip with powder blue ribbons around the chiffon hems. He groans to himself as he slides the fabric up your spine, palming the skin beneath it. Up and down. 

The pair of panties you don are pulled down your thighs, slipped out from under your knees, and discarded onto the floor. 

You watch behind you as Chris yanks off his shirt and unzips his pants, pulling down the article along with his black briefs. His cock is red and weeping as it sits heavy in his fist. The anticipation that leaks from the slit in the head gushes as he squeezes and strokes a few times until it’s at its full, punishing length. 

“If you’re gonna spend my money like you’re the one who goes out and works for it,” he says as he lines himself up with your entrance and, without warning, enters you in one mean thrust. “You’re gonna fuckin’ work for it.” 

With a cry, you fall down to the mattress, aided by his hand that presses your back down into an arch. He uses it to steady himself as he pounds into you relentlessly, using another hand to unforgivingly pull your ass against his hips. 

The stretch is something to be savored, the bittersweet sensation soon being replaced by complete, unadulterated pleasure when your body begins to lubricate itself and the sting dissipates. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” he confesses, though he immediately regrets it, forgetting that this is supposed to be a punishment, a lesson. Clearing his throat, he gets back into character, and both of his hands travel to your hips, fingers digging into the flesh. 

There’s a smug smirk that appears on your face, and you do your best to hide it behind a curtain of hair as you bury your face into the linens, fingers grappling at the cotton sheets as he pounds into you from behind, grunting like a rutting animal. 

“You spent thousands,” he barks, pulling out until only half his length remains buried inside you. “Thousands,” he repeats, pistoning back in, eliciting a whine from your throat. “What do you have to say about that, mhm?”

“Fuck you.” You clench around him and he nearly plummets forward onto your back at the sensation of you squeezing his dick. 

“Fuck, baby,” he breaks, palms flat on your back, your smooth skin glistening beneath the orange glow dripping from the fixture above. 

Such beautiful skin, he thinks. Unmarred by years of fighting and killing. No scars strewn across your shoulderblades. He revels in the sight of it, clean and unwounded. You’re safe and sound here, and he’ll keep you like that for the rest of his days. 

Still, he has a point to make, and he can’t get distracted.

“I work my ass off, put my life on the line to keep you safe here.” He spits out a curse before continuing his tirade. “To give you anything you want. And this is how you repay me? Shit. Punishing me with the very thing I do to show you I love you?”

Cruel woman.

His hand dives to smack your cheek, and you hiss at the sting. “Not under my roof.” He doesn’t sooth it like he typically does, with a gentle kiss or a soft, caressing palm. He lets the air conditioning lick it like a dog on a hot wound. “Got it?” Another slap. 

“Got it?” He repeats, and you answer quickly, lest he plant another merciless hand on your skin. 

“Y-yes, Chris.” 

He thrusts into you again, picking up the pace until all you can think, hear, or feel is the slap of his hips against your ass, and the rhythmic song of his grunts harmonizing with your crying moans. 

Once he finishes, he bows down to kiss the red marks on your skin before you fall onto the bed, dragging the sheets over your sullied body. The cool cotton works as a salve, tending to both your stings and the burn of humiliation red-hot on your face. Now you can hide. 

That is, until he yanks the sheet down to your chest, revealing your rosy cheeks and glassy eyes to him as he wags a disciplinary finger.

“None of that.”

After he cleans himself up, he reclines on the mattress, lying next to you, his spine flush up against the headboard. He pulls the sheet over his lap and lets out a sigh as he tips his head back, closing his eyes.

“I’m sorry about today,” you say meekly, fidgeting hands picking and poking at the skin around your nails, eyes affixed on the anxious movement. Suddenly, the sheet draped across your upper body is oh so fascinating as you study the tight weave of the cotton threads–

Chris leans over to plant a kiss on the top of your head, scooting closer to you so he can wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. 

“I can take everything back tomorrow,” you assure, still unable to meet his gaze. 

“Keep it all,” he says from above as you nuzzle into his chest, coated in the thinnest sheen of sweat. 

You snap your head up to look at him, whole-heartedly expecting there to be a jovial smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, a laugh escaping his chest. The expression on his face is nothing but genuine, and it makes your heart sink through the layers of insulation in the mattress. “No, Chris. It’s too much. I can take everything back, really.”

He shrugs, his broad, boulderous shoulders shifting against the upholstered headboard. “I like taking care of you. I want you to have everything your heart desires, and I’ll gladly work for it.”

The way his voice trails off into nothingness…you expect it to be punctuated by a ‘but’, followed by a lofty exception.

“Are you sure?”

Another kiss. “All I ask is that you don’t use it as a weapon against me. Got it?”

You nod against his side. That, you can do.

“How about you give me a little fashion show, huh? Show me all the pretty things you spent my money on? It’s the least you can do.”

A light giggle escapes you, and you nearly jump off the bed to do as he asks before you remember all those half-sizes and ill-fits you bought just for the sake of it. 

You’ll make a trip back to the shops tomorrow.

taglist: @cakeofhorrors @rainyxie

[maymay-anderson]

6DYRHRHHR HER POUTTTYHCF I NEED TO SOB INTO MY PILLOW FOR 36HRS STRAIGHT

[sun-blood-red]

The Last Of Us Part 2 Scenery

[gardengnosticator]

[lemonbbars]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ streamer!ellie x influencer!reader hc’s

a/n: purely self-indulgent and i rlly wanna do a full one for gamer!ellie head (also just a liiiiittle bit smut at the end)

streamer!ellie who first sees you when she’s on stream—chill saturday doomscrolling sesh where she lets her chat pick out what to watch. it just so happens one of your videos comes up on her screen. it isn’t even anything that special—just you in your room, showing off your outfit as you lip sync to a song. nevertheless, it has ellie entranced. the awe on her face is so clear it was all her chat would talk about until she ended stream half an hour later. “fucking—chat, i’m not blushing!” “yall r actually delusional, ohmygoduhhhh.”

streamer!ellie whose clips of her reaction to your pretty face are all over everybody’s twitter and tiktok timeline the next day—including yours, to her absolute embarrassment.

influencer!reader who’s initially horrified to learn that her name is trending on twitter, only to discover that it isn’t for anything bad at all. her eyes find ellie’s name next to hers, and soon she’s watching the clips, not being able to help the smile starting to stretch across her face as she watched the streamer turn impossibly red.

influencer!reader who thought streamer!ellie was kinda cute.

influencer!reader who’s quick to take to tiktok the next day, the text on her post reading; ‘quick what’s your type?’ ‘awkward twitch streamers who get flustered easily.’ the caption reading; and are named ellie ;)

streamer!ellie who cannot believe what she sees when her fans bring the already viral post to her attention.

streamer!ellie who, almost immediately after ending stream that day, slides into influencer!reader’s dms with a ‘so i’m your type?’

streamer!ellie and influencer!reader who throw both their audiences into a tizzy when they stream together for the first time. it’s just a few games of fortnite, but the natural banter has the chat going crazy.

influencer!reader who finds streamer!ellie’s tendency to get concerningly red nothing short of adorable. she’d turn to the chat, pointing to ellie. “is she always like this?” secretly giddy with the sheer amount of ‘NO’s in the chat.

streamer!ellie who lets influencer!reader boss her around like she owns her because she secretly likes it, earning herself a “holy submissive” from influencer!reader every time she follows.

streamer!ellie who repeatedly flirts with reader on stream “as a joke”. firing out “let’s count shoulders” and “woahhhh your hands are so small” as the chat spams ‘airball’ after ‘airball’.

influencer!reader who makes a disgusted face at every one of streamer!ellie’s joking attempts to flirt, though they both know she actually does enjoy it.

streamer!ellie who is under all of influencer!reader’s posts in no time, making her presence known with a ‘first’. it gets so bad influencer!reader’s fans start commenting ‘here before ellie’.

streamer!ellie and influencer!reader who kiss for the first time during a makeup stream, cloaked by the walls of ellie’s closet after they went to retrieve an outfit.

streamer!ellie’s chat who gets so freaking suspicious when the two start being extra giggly the rest of the stream, ellie’s face being beet red and not being able to hold eye contact when influencer!reader has to hold her face to apply mascara.

streamer!ellie who’s makeup stream vod goes absolutely viral between clippers and editors alike.

streamer!ellie whose friends start asking her what the fuck is up the second they catch the clips on tiktok.

streamer!ellie and influencer!reader who start going out in secret, their fans still obliviously making tiktok ship edits to encourage them to get together.

NSFW BELOW!!

influencer!reader who likes to torture ellie when she works nights too late, sinking down on her knees and settling beneath ellie’s desk, as she tries to keep quiet for the mic.

streamer!ellie who once felt so good she almost got them caught.

streamer!ellie who had to shut off her camera mid game with no explanation, just so chat wouldn’t be able to see her arching off her gaming chair, hand on top of influencer!reader’s head, brows knit together, while she got the best head she’s genuinely ever gotten in her life.

streamer!ellie whose chat catches on quick when she lets a whimper slip, spamming ‘ayo’s and ‘is she under the desk?’s she’s too focused on keeping quiet to see, let alone address.

streamer!ellie who’s still slightly red when she turns back her facecam back on ten minutes after she cums, completely ignoring her chat’s incredibly suspicious messages.

streamer!ellie who just barely escapes a twitch ban and career ruin by pleading sick, claiming her whimpers were due to ‘stomach issues’, and telling her chat to get their minds out of the gutter.

taglist: @rjfjfufjfjfuc @purinukie @rhian88 @valeisaslut @liztreez @andreaaaxoxo @diorbymel @babydollbruise @ar1-angel @hitmehardmommy @elliespinkstrapp @kisszythe @bellsapatilha @like-a-dirty-french-novel @joyispunk @kirammanss @pleurspetal @ellieskitty @minaridior @andieprincessofpower @bellsapatilha @archivedfilesofmei @haithone @machetegirl109 @sashaaaur @madibookmarks @motelgloss @wasted9rain @moonlightinatlanta @girlfeelsgood @mulan-but-gay @morphids @vqxen @thatredheadloserlesbian @ghvtcnxx

[elsvinyl]

✿۫⠀ 𑂁 ฺ

autistic!reader x gf!ellie headcannons

pls note i wrote this with my own experience with autism in mind + very much written to cope while on holiday 😭 not gonna be perfect at all

♡ ellie researched your disability when you had timidly told her you were autistic, n she had decided then and there she would do the best she could to take care of you and provide a space where you can be yourself

♡ ellie knows your nervousness when it comes to dinners with friends n always makes sure to pack a safe food for you. whenever you need it, ellie assures you “hey, its okay, its okay. nobodys getting mad at you, you do whatever your comfortable with.”

♡ whenever you have a hyperfixation on an interest, ellies always the one there to be listening. asking you questions n being there to rant to, always patient and letting you take your time when your explaining. learning more about it in her own time to ask you about it later. making you trinkets of it/buying you merch of it and bringing it up whenever she feels like you need a gateway to talk about it when you get too scared to ask so yourself

♡ double & triple checks ur headphones to make sure its charged before going out. the two of you have a shared playlist that you listen to, it reminds you that ellies here n makes being in public less of an isolating experience

♡ takes note of what textures you do n dont like very precisely. your preferences are the main factors that ellie takes into account of when shes buying new bed sheets, clothes, blankets etc.

♡ has grown to notice the small details to look out for when your overstimulated. especially when your out, she makes sure to be checking up on you if you need anything at all

♡ drops everything when she notices your overstimulated. she gets you into a space with no prying eyes so you dont have to keep masking n rubs circles into your back. you take all the time you need, being around ellie doesnt make you feel like a burden

♡ takes charge whenever the both of you interact with unfamiliar people. ellie has the ability to make conversation while also including you if she notices your feeling left out, driving questions n facts your way. otherwise, ellie simply keeps the conversation going without you having to deal with it if you dont want to.

♡ with time, you began to feel comfortable enough to unmask around ellie. creating a space where you felt like you could speak your mind without having to worry about sounding rude or coming off as “weird.”

[snuffuri]

if you don’t got a needoh you’re a weirdo

[kae9s]

abby x harpy!reader drabble

synopsis: your beloved gf keeps using the sensitivity of your wings against you, but maybe it's not all bad..

tags: smut!!, wingplay, strap riding, scratching, top!Abby, referenced sub!Abby, teasing. 0.6k wc.

author's note: ty for the request! never done this b4, hope it suffices.. I did start working on some sfw headcanons if you want me to finish them, lmk. creds to @honeyluvsw for the divider

“Jeez, that’s got you squirmin’, huh?” Abby cooed, lips curling up in a slight grin.

Your nails dug into her shoulders in warning, arms shaking slightly. Her skin wasn’t only adorned in freckles, but with red lines from your nails.

A throaty noise left you, back tensing as Abby dragged hands over the arch of your wings. Your wings twitched slightly, the heavy drag of her hands sending sparks through you.

Your hips ceased their rocking, silicone still inside of you. Abby had nagged you to ride her, and now she was tugging at your wings, teasing you relentlessly. She didn’t deserve it, really.

“Oh, seriously?” She drawled. “Come on, baby..” She urged, voice rough, thumbnail dressing between feathers and dragging over delicate flesh. You shuddered, panting slightly.

“Keep moving. Need me to lay you down?” She warned, still smirking. You shook your head.

“No.. I can do it, just..” You pouted, face screwing up slightly as she moved her hands to your shoulderblades, tracing the line between skin and feathers, admiring the muscle that supported the weight of them.

“Just what?” She prodded, still teasing that same seam. You clenched up around the plastic inside of you, pussy still aching. It was never as simple as just getting off with her. She had to pull some bullshit first.

“My wings, you keep.. It feels..”

“Does it hurt?” She pulled her hands back briefly.

“Well, no, but..” You protested. She returned to her stroking and prodding, watching you wriggle again.

“Then what’s the fucking problem then, baby?” She rasped, cocking her hips upwards slightly. Your eyes fluttered shut.

“I.. nothing..” You yielded, rocking yourself down. The deep press of the silicone was jarring, it felt fucking good, and so did her touching your wings, it was just foreign, and it was a lot at once, and you hated getting too mushy and fucked out. She’d tease you about it.

“You can do better than that, yeah? Lift up a little..” She coaxed. You were content with getting off by rocking back and forth on it, but Abby wasn’t. You protested under your breath, shifting your weight, settling into a motion of lifting and dropping your hips.

The silicone knocked that special spot right up inside you, making you clench up, pussy squelching lewdly around the faux dick.

“Fuck.. that’s good, babe, jus’ like that..” Abby murmured, gripping your wings, eyes locked on where you pussy swallowed her strap.

“Keep.. keep touching them.. My wings, fuck Abs, that’s.. So fucking good..” Your head dipped back slightly, wings extending and curling back in jerkily, muscles twitching under the sensation.

Your clit ached, swollen and untouched, but you questioned even needing her to touch it. You never came from penetration alone, but she’d never played with your wings before. They'd always stayed tucked back, out of the way, so you didn’t whack anything with them.

“Oh, so you like it now?” She teased. Your jaw tightened, the rolling of your hips growing faster, pressing the base of the strap into Abby hard. She swallowed back a noise, but you didn’t miss it.

“Shut up..” You whined, fingers digging into her shoulder painfully as an orgasm coiled up inside of you. You chased the feeling, choking on a hoarse, loud moan and you clamped up around her and came, legs twitching and shaking.

Abby watched, eyes heavy, lips wet and parted. Your scratching was painful, but she welcomed the pain. It was worth it to see you like this, though.

“That’s it.. Mm, yeah, so good f’me..”

You lifted yourself off of her, your cunt making a lewd wet noise. Your fingers hooked into a strap of the harness, tugging impatiently.

“Get this shit off so I can eat your pussy” you panted, pulling at clasps. Abby squirmed slightly.

“Am I in trouble?” She grinned. 

“Yeah, you are..” You breathed.

[dearbaes]

𐔌  .  STAINED  !  ୧

synopsis: you have an unfortunate leak at the middle of the night, and your girlfriend, abby, takes care of you

content: period blood, you’re on your period, sweetheart girlfriend abby, cuddles, comfort and fluff

Rain thundered against the windows so hard, the glass shook with every burst of strong wind. You both were huddled up underneath the cozy blanket, your arms draped over hers. Abby laid on her back, knocked out entirely from how tired she felt which you didn’t understand. 

This woman could sleep all day, and wake up just to tell you she’s tired, wants water, and has to pee. 

You kept waking up every now and then, you were exhausted but for some reason you kept waking up. 

You didn’t know what it was, you also didn’t know why there was a dull ache at the pit of your stomach. Then—the moment you finally found a comfortable position—you felt that awful leaking feeling. 

“... No.” You whispered to yourself. 

Abby twitched in her sleep, and then kept sleeping on, mouth falling open. You carefully tried to remove Abby’s arm from your torso so you could get up, and go to the bathroom but then—her eyes snapped open. 

“Y’okay?” She woke up with a start. 

“Yeah, yeah!” you said quickly, “I’m fine, I just—...”

Abby groggily rubbed her eye with the heel of her palm. “Well?” 

“Just gonna go to the bathroom…” you slowly moved. 

Abby’s hand closed around your wrist suddenly. 

“Huh—?”

“You’re bleeding,” she grabbed the edge of the blanket and yanked it off, “... Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m fine—”

Abby turned the lights on, her eyes laced with concern. She got you before you could and slid one muscular arm under your knees and the other around your shoulders to pick you up. 

You rested your head against her shoulder, “you really don’t have to do all this.”

“I want to.” She carried you to the bathroom, setting you down on your feet as she opened the cabinet and got some towels out, followed by some sanitary napkins. 

She set them aside on the bathroom counter, and turned the water on, waiting until the tub filled with warm water. 

“Get in…” she said gently. 

Once you were in the tub, you withdrew, your knees to your chest, and looped your arms around them. Abby was gentle as she ran the water over your body and cleaned you up. 

You stayed there, staring at the surface of the water, and then finally you mumbled, “I’m sorry, I should have marked my date, but I didn’t.”

“S’not your fault.”

“Oh, you’re up at the dead of the night, giving me a bath… because of me.”

Abby pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That doesn’t make it your fault.”

You weren’t sure how to react to that, because everyone you had been with before Abby always treated you being on your period as something disgusting. Even if you did date women before Abby as well, for some reason they didn’t really feel the need to care about you the way Abby was.

It wasn’t even just the care in general. You knew that Abby had to be up in just a few hours. Yet she was here, sitting by you on the edge of the tub, and giving you a bath because you’re on your period and you’re cramping.

After the bath was over, she got up and gave you a towel to dry yourself. 

“Stay right here, I’m gonna go get you some dry clothes.” 

You nodded. “Thanks.”

She gave you a faint, sleepy smile before she disappeared outside the doorway. Abby was so caring. Always. Even if she was swaying every now and then with exhaustion, she was taking care of you. You heard rustling sounds and slowly inched towards the door, and peeked out—Abby was changing the sheets quickly, so you don’t feel embarrassed when you come back to the bedroom. 

You watched with wide eyes, blush creeping onto your cheeks. She really was the woman of your dreams. 

After a little bit, she came back with your fresh pajama set.

“Here, sorry I took so long, I was trying to choose which one you should wear…”

“You’re all good,” you said with a smile. 

You knew that was probably a lie. She was changing the sheets. 

You put the clothes on, and followed her out to the bedroom. You looked over, and looked back at Abby. 

“You changed the sheets.”

She looked away. “Yeah, well obviously…” 

You giggled, laying down, “come here.”

Abby laid down, and tugged you closer. “Comfortable?”

“Very,” you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. 

“Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, my love.”

Abby watched you drifting off. The way your breathing evened out, your lashes rested on your cheeks, your hand loosely clutching Abby’s pajama shirt. 

You were so precious. 

She pulled you closer, more secure against her chest. You’re her girl.