You are carrying the Morro nation😭 I want to request something, if your requests are still open, of course!
if you could write smut? Morro x female reader? I understand if you’re uncomfortable writing it.
Carrying Morro Nation ಥ﹏ಥ You really think that? It makes me so happy to hear , thank you for the support. To answer what you’re wondering- yes my requests are open for atleast the next 2 months, and yes I am comfortable with writing smut. The reason i don’t write it is because it’s difficult to appeal to peoples’ sexual preferences in a fic. Something specific to stories with smut is: when a character does something that turns somebody off- they’re more than likely to just click off, atleast in my experience 😭 furthermore, Smut’s pretty challenging to write and don’t think it would be as good as the fluff or angst I write. I’m only gonna improve if I try though :) I decided to make the reader the sub cuz I think that’s what most female fans of his are into. thanks for the rec. Disclamer !! He is not high to the point where he can’t consent in this fic.
Dirty Laundry ˚.🎀༘⋆
Morro x F!Reader, Ressurected!Morro AU. Contains smut, Sub!Reader.
Nsfw
❤︎
Please do not continue if you cannot handle mature themes and language involving sex.
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You like him when he’s on something. Whether he just took an edible or he drank tea with shrooms boiled into it, his gaze just relaxes. His eyes aren’t upturned anymore, his forehead isn’t scrunched up like it always is. Of course you love his forever frowny face, but it’s nice to see a change of pace.
He’s bolder now, body language communicating that he’s open, that he wants you on him, or your mouth on him— with the way he’s splayed out on your couch, the way his words are slurring. He’d probably get annoyed with himself if he was sober.
“You look so pretty.. stop teasin’ me..” He frogblinks at you, little smile on his face.
“You are such a spoiled brat. Me wanting to fold my laundry before touching you is me teasing you?”
“Yes. You have your boyfriend over and you’re doing chores instead of paying attention to him..”
“I started doing this two minutes ago, and I’m practically done. I paid all my attention to you the rest of the time.”
“Hmph. You n’ your logic, always have to have the last word… can’t let me have anything…”
You shoot him a puzzled look , wondering what this guy’s even mad about. But like a 4 year old, he gets over whatever it was a moment later, when he scoots over on the couch to touch your arm.
“Forget about your laundry. Do it after I leave.” He mutters while patting your arm.
“Oh come on. You weren’t talking to me before I started folding it. Now that I’m making myself busy, you’re just dying for me to talk to you? You’re such an attention whore.”
“That stopped being an insult the hundreth time y’said it.”
“You identify with that label now? Attention whore?”
“Neversaidthat”
You fold your panties in half, right when a sickly, desperate hand meets wrist.
“Izzat yours?” He grumbles
“No, it’s yours.” You snatch it back. “It’s frilly with bows on it. Who the hell do you think it belongs to?”
“Can I have it?”
That one actually renders you speechless for a second.
“No! It was expensive.”
“You’ve gotten me pricier gifts…”
“I haven’t even told you how much it cost..” You set your stack of clothes aside, turning your body toward him and peering into his eyes.
“Are you always this horny after taking an edible?”
“I’m practically sober..”
“Right. So all this desperation is just your default, huh?”
His grin doesn’t falter. “Only for you.”
You smile. “You’re too good at this. Come here.”
You put your hand behind his head and lean into his face. The kiss was supposed to be short, but he won’t pull away. He’s gotten his tongue involved, so you know he’s very serious about full on making out.
He’s got lungs of steel ; Kissing him is a workout. You’re out of breath by the time he pulls away. His hands are on your shoulders, gripping on before he moves his mouth over to your throat. You can tell his placement is deliberate, because he’s about to give you a hickey in a spot you need a shitton of foundation to cover up. He knows you don’t wanna waste all your product like that, and aren’t interested in wearing scarves and turtlenecks over the summer— so you’ll just have to wear the mark he left on you out in the open, in plain sight. You would’ve told him to stop if you didn’t like it. He knows that.
You’re gripping onto his hair, whimpering as he’s sucking onto the delicate skin of your neck. He presses on it a little bit after pulling away, which makes you wince and frown at him. He’s just grinning back, because he knows you aren’t opposed to it at all.
His thumb’s playing with your bra strap, so you tell him to cut the shit and to just take it off. And somehow, he does it with more coordination than you can, without even having to look at it. He wants pussy that bad.
He slides his hand under the band of your sweats. You put your on top.
“All this, and you’ve still got a jacket on… I wanna see something good looking too, you know…”
“So my face isn’t good-looking? Thass what you’re saying?”
“No, it’s not what I’m saying and you know that.” You take his jacket off, and he complies by pulling his arms out of the sleeves.
“Can’you prove it?”
“What?”
“Look at my face the entire time?”
“…That’s.. gonna be hard, you know..”
“Not’f you think I’m as good looking azzyou say I am.”
“God, you will just use anything to your advantage.Won’t you?”
He doesn’t confirm or deny. He just continues where he left off ; at your hips, until you're just in your underwear, something he can easily slide to the side.
He lays you down on your couch, one leg wrapped around his hip, the other dangling off the surface.
“Atleast put a towel down.” You complain, but there’s no real bite to it. You’ll live.
“Don’t feel like it…”
You’re soaked, but he keeps marking up your neck— like he wants to really drive that ownership point home when he finishes inside— that the love bites are just the beginning, they’re just the part other people can see.
“Oh and I’m the tease, yeah?” You tilt your head back, which just gives him more room.
“ ‘S called foreplay…”
“it’s excessive.”
“Don’ tellme whattuhdo”
You groan, letting him pin you down and plant red bruises all over your upper body. You reach for the zipper of his pants when he grabs your wrist and holds it down. He doesn’t say anything but gives you a look that communicates, “Seriously? You thought I’d let you?”
You’re about to start tuning it out when he abruptly pulls your hand out of his hair and moves back to where your ankles are. He lifts one up and places it over his shoulder. You hear his zipper being undone.
You feel him press against your soaked entrance. Just the head of his cock is wrapped around your warmth for a few seconds before he adjusts his position, pushes in, and sinks himself into your cunt, which elicits a sharp gasp from you. He’ll go from doing something that barely counts as touching— to fucking you like he’s trying to split you down the middle. You hold onto the armrest of the couch, panting as he experiments with what angle he wants you to cum on his cock in.
He’s so grateful for birth control at this moment, ‘cause he can’t imagine pulling out before finishing. You likely won’t get pregnant. And if you do? He’s not at all opposed to being the reason why. He’s thrilled to, even if you guys aren’t really ready yet.
“You aren’t lookin’at me”
“It’s hard… and awkward..”
“Ohhhh. Izzit? Then I guess you don’t have to anymore…” he rolls his eyes. “C’mon, baby. You can do it. Don’t get shy on me. You weren’t shy when you called me ‘n attention whore.”
“As if that’s even comparable…”
He takes your jaw in his hands. Not gripping, just holding between his fingers. Not forcing you to stare at him, but encouraging. And it works. You cave, you sink your back deeper into the couch and stare up at him, only ever looking away when you have to roll your eyes back ‘cause it feels so good. His response to you saying he’s in too deep will either be to try to go deeper, or to apologize and pull back a little. You can never predict what he’s gonna do, and in this case, he’s determined to cum inside of you.
He lowers his body, the space above his dick rubbing onto your clit with every movement of his hips. When he feels the warm walls of your cunt clench around him, he groans— any determination in his face disappearing and being replaced with a look of bliss. He’s loud, moaning incoherent variations of “fuck” “please” “shit” “ugh” “god” in your ear, into your chest, into your neck. If you weren’t so overwhelmed yourself, you’d call it cute how he can’t control himself when he feels a lot at once. Your whole apartment complex probably knows by now what a satisfied boyfriend he is.
You feel him throb inside you, matching the same pulsating rhythm as your own orgasm. His grip on your trembling thighs doesn’t get weaker, despite his control over his voice faltering.
His warm, thick, gooey release fills you up— and it wipes the thoughts from your brain for a couple seconds. What you can still comprehend though, is him muttering how it “feel’sogood” into your chest.
Minutes go by, and the space where you guys are connected is sticky. He pulls back a little, a string of cum connecting his cock to your cunt.
Neither of your senses are sharp, but you manage to notice him taking the underwear he took off of you into his hand.
“Answer’s still no… you can’t have it..”
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