#half nelson x reader

[grnherbs]

pretty girl. 18+ mdni.

cw: DEAD DOVE. implied teacher x student (college au, reader is 18+), intoxication mildly, sleepy sex, degradation (he refers to reader as a flesh light), cigarettes, finger sucking, dom/soft dom dan, implied size kink. i think that’s everything? written in headcanon style so not my finest work, slight somno? breeding.

“whats the matter sweet thing? you look so sleepy”

“why don’t you come lay down on the couch with me?”

“oh my sleepy angel, c’mere, come sit on my lap”.

he has you on his lap, arms wrapped around your waist ‘cuddling you’ but you can feel his hard on poking against your leg the whole time. lifts you up and shushes you whilst he pulls your panties to the side “wearing a pretty skirt for me hm? i like it, makes your legs look pretty”.

“shhhh, sh, shh it’s okay, i’m gonna make you feel good baby, don’t worry” pushing the head of his fat dick into your cunt. you’re whimpering and eyes are half closed, burying your head in his shoulder and taking in his smell, like cigarettes and cheap aftershave. you can feel his skin sticking to yours and you lazily grab his shirt for stability and he fills you up to the hilt with his dick, shuddering and breathing through his teeth.

he’s using you as his own personal fleshlight, pulling you up and down over his dick, slowly, dragging it in and out of you, you’re whining around him but it feels so good and he’s so deep in you, you’ve never felt this full before.

“you’re taking me so fuckin good baby” he says between drags of a cigarette you don’t even remember him having, too hazy to take in anything but him. he just carries on, slow pace, using you for slow drawn out pleasure, in no rush, he has you all night.

you’re crying a little and he shushes you some more, cooing at you and …he offers his thumb to you, you’re suckling on it lightly, and he feels his heart swell up with greed and love and desperation for you “fuckin perfect you are…think i wanna keep you here all day and night, my pretty little human fleshlight huh?” and you’re nodding? why the fuck are you nodding, so blissed out, surrounded by dan and all his things, cigarette smoke in the air.

he stubs his cigarette out on a nearby ash tray, one thumb still in your mouth, using only his hips to press up into you, thigh muscles straining ever so slightly, your cunt is fluttering around his dick and the feeling is more intoxicating than any drug dan’s ever tried.

he’s pressing open mouth kisses along your jaw and neck, he takes his thumb out your mouth and kisses you, hand going between you to focus on your clit, nearly gasping when he finally realises how wet you are, and how much you’re enjoying being fucked apart by your history professor.

“god you’re such a filthy brat aren’t you?” and you nod lazily against him “mhm, i know you are baby, i know atta girl, just take what i give you”. his thumb swirling around your clit, achingly slow but you’re approaching your orgasm quickly regardless, hips bucking against his in an unnatural rhythm.

“want my cum princess? want me to fill up this pretty pussy?” he whispers into your ear, kissing you again soon after “you gotta squeeze my dick first baby, gonna fill you up but i want you to cum on my dick first”

you nod and whine, rolling your hips against his thumb and cock, feeling it hit you in all the perfect places and you cry, wet hot tears soaking his blue shirt, nuzzling into his neck, hearing him chuckle at how sweet you were being for him “almost there, doing so good for me baby”.

your whimper and nod, crashing over your high as you hear a harsh smirk in his voice “fuck there you go, oh god, so fucking good for me” he kisses your cheeks softly and you ride your high out on him.

he moves his hands now, gripping your waist and using your hole to fuck himself deep, “f-fuck” he stutters and you feel his heavy balls contract before he’s panting and filling you up with his cum, warm and sticky against you. “oh.. fuck baby…” he groans out, low and gruff “fucking hell… so fuckin good f’me” he mumbles into your hair as you whimper some more, making the prettiest sounds.

“came so good f’me huh? knew you could do it baby, knew you’d feel so fuckin good” and he holds you on his cock, arms wrapped round you, stroking your hair with his big hands, “so beautiful…”.

[prudejudee]

HELLO JUDAS 😈😈😈😈😈 I come with thoughts of Daniel Dunne.

I’m thinking….im thinking….laying around with him in his apartment….smoking cigarettes and listening to vinyls….resting on his chest and noticing that his cock is just….its probably because he’s absentmindedly stroking your chest and your occasional kisses are making him horny. But he’s hard. Like really hard. And his pants are thin and his cock is MASSIVE AND

I’m sorry IM JUST RAMBLING BUT PLS DAN DAN DAN DAN DAN DAN DAN DAN

(ps his hands work as necklaces)

Hey i hc dan w a big fat thick dick hes a little scrawny so it helps the stereotype....

You're sprawled across his chest, your cheek pressed to the thin fabric of his t-shirt, your body a warm weight that rises and falls with his breath. His fingers trace lazy patterns on your shoulder, your arm, the curve of your hip something absent, automatic, like he's memorizing you without thinking.

You shift, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone. His hand pauses, then resumes its slow stroking. Another kiss, higher, just below his jaw. He exhales smoke, tilts his head back, and you feel the vibration of a low hum in his chest.

"You're makin' it hard to focus on the music.." he mutters, voice rough, a little amused.

You don't answer. You just slide your hand down his stomach, palm flat against the worn fabric of his sweatpants. And there it is—the unmistakable ridge, the thick, heavy swell of him, already hard.

Not just hard. Massive. The kind of hardness that makes your mouth water, that makes your thighs clench instinctively. His pants are thin, worn soft from years of washing, and the outline of his cock presses against the fabric like it's demanding to be seen.

"Been like that for a while," he says, voice flat, like he's stating the weather. "You keep kissing me like that—" He gestures vaguely with the cigarette. "—it's just gonna get worse."

You press your palm against the length of him, feel the heat radiating through the cotton. His breath hitches, just barely. His hand stops stroking your chest and grips your shoulder instead, fingers digging in.

"You want me to stop?" you ask, voice low.

He doesn't answer. He just stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray on the floor, then grabs your wrist and guides your hand lower, pressing your fingers against the outline of his shaft. It's thick—so thick your fingers barely wrap around it through the fabric. He lets out a breath, almost a sigh, and his hips buck up just slightly, seeking friction.

You slide your hand along his length, slow, feeling every inch of him straining against the thin cotton. The head of his cock is already wet, a dark spot spreading on the fabric.

He groans, low and guttural, and his hand finds the back of your head, threading through your hair.

"Take 'em off" he says, voice strained. "Take my pants off. Now."

You don't need to be told twice. You shift, straddling his thighs, and hook your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. He lifts his hips, and you pull them down just enough to free his cock. It springs up, thick and flushed, the head glistening with pre-cum, the shaft veined and heavy. It's almost intimidating, the sheer size of it, the way it curves upward toward his stomach.

He watches you stare, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "What, too much?"

You shake your head, lowering yourself, pressing a kiss to the tip. He shudders, his whole body tensing. His hand grips the back of your head again, not forcing, just there, guiding.

"Open up, sweetheart." he says, voice low, almost a command.

And you do.

Later, after you've swallowed every drop, after he's pulled you up to kiss you with the taste of himself on your tongue, he flips you onto your back. Your thighs spread wide, your cunt slick and ready, and he positions himself between your legs, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

He pauses, looking down at you and your soft belly, your plush thighs, the way your body yields to him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown.

"You're gonna take all of it," he says, not a question. A statement. "Slow. I want to feel every inch of you."

You nod, breathless, and he pushes inside.

It's a stretch—a deep, aching, perfect stretch. He fills you completely, the pressure building as he sinks deeper, inch by inch, until his hips are flush against yours. He pauses again, letting you adjust, his forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged.

"Ohfuck" he mutters. "You feel—" He can't finish. He just starts moving, slow and deep, each thrust pushing the air from your lungs.

The vinyl has ended by the time he comes, the record spinning silently. He collapses on top of you, his weight a comfort, his cock still pulsing inside you. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, then mumbles, "You're gonna make me buy a new record. That one's probably scratched now."