#Embarrassing self plug

[rqnarok]

summary: old man!logan finds himself having a breeding kink.

cws/tags: smut, mdni! old man!logan. fem!reader. heavy breeding kink. dom/sub dynamics. unprotected p in v. pet names. not proofread. 

Logan’s younger self would not approve of this idea. 

Hell, it would not even cross his youthful, unbound, and liberated version. Younger Logan would have brushed off the idea - dodging it like a bullet - revolting against it. 

Having a kid? A noisy five-year-old child running around the house, screaming and kicking everything in sight? Yeah, fuck no. 

He’d even hate just thinking about it. 

But now that years have gone by and he’s almost hitting 200 years of age–a lot has changed in how he sees things, alright. Suddenly he’s not that idealistic-insufferable-annoying fuck anymore.

The heavy feels of his own body, his poor visions, his utter tiredness and wounds are slowly tended by settling down with you. Living in a small countryside home just outside Texas is the life Logan needed all along.

So he just can’t fucking help it when he sees how you act with those children at the Barbeque party. How you treat them with such care as if they’re yours. 

The smile plastered on your face after you give each one of them a cookie is Heaven sent for Logan. He’s too focused on being mesmerized by your acts that he almost does not realize how his trousers feel tighter.

He quickly hides his bulge whilst embarrassed of himself, thinking ‘M fuckin’ old for this shit. But who gives a fuck anyway? 

Oh, he in the past would not approve of this at all. 

“Fuck. You’d look so fuckin’ good with y’r belly swollen with my child.” Logan grunts out, thrusting his girth into you as his mind fills up with visions of you carrying his child. 

The images themselves make Logan go feral—growling when he feels how your velvet walls manage to clench around him.

“A-ah! Please!” The high-pitched noise you let out is almost humiliating as you bounce yourself on top of your husband, making the head hit your gummy spot every time you fall down.

“Hm? Y’want that, Little Missy? Want me t’give you a baby?” His calloused fingers rub shapes on your sticky skin, guiding your hips as he tries to search for the answer in your eyes.

You reply with a frantic nod, your mind feels empty as his tip deliciously kisses your cervix. The thought of being full of his seed, pregnant and giving him a baby—makes your eyes roll back in pleasure.

With one movement, Logan manages to manhandle you to a new position, his cock never slips out from your heat, “Want this old man t’give you one? Make you a momma?” 

The sound of his full balls slapping against your ass makes you squeeze your eyes shut. 

Now clearly hearing the obscene moans emitting through the dim room, “Yeahyeahyea—W-wanna be a momma—”

While you wonder how he still has this much stamina at that age, Logan leans down to your ear and buries his face on your neck, “Pretty wife. Gonna make the cutest goddamn babies, y’know tha’?” 

His palms hold your thighs spread open to reach deeper inside you, “Let me fill ya’ up real good.”

Logan’s eyes flicker to watch your pussy swallow his cock in and out. The sight alone makes him throw his head and let guilt wash him over for a minute.

He feels perverted—corrupting you by plugging his cock to the hilt as if it is trying to mold your insides. A dilemma growing.

You could feel how his thrusts steadily became desperate, “L-Lo.” Whining out, your fingers crawl into his back to pull him tighter. 

He can’t fucking wait to have you round up. Shit. You’d be so dependent on him—need him at all times. And he’d fulfill everything you ask him to do. Logan would never even let you move an inch. 

Everything caught up to him as an acute wave, “F-Fuck. There ya’ go, baby.” Logan mutters - his hands shake slightly as they lose their grip on your thighs. 

His cock never pulling out, “D’ya think it takes, pretty?” You could feel him deep inside you—how your walls are painted by his thick ropes of cum. 

Logan gives lazy circles of his hips before pressing a sweet kiss on your lips, whispering several ‘I love you’s’ before lowering himself so his face could level with your pussy.  

“Fuck.” The older man has never seen a far more beautiful sight than this. Watching his cum begin to leak out of you makes his cock twitches again. 

The scruffy feel of his beard scratches your inner thighs as he leans closer—dragging the tips of his fingers along your folds before plugging his digits back inside. 

“Logan-n!” 

A deep rumble comes out of Logan, “Shh. Be a good girl for your husband, yeah? Need’a to make sure it takes.”

[strawb3rryhachi]

“When did you get so sensitive here, Sy?” You purr, embracing him from behind, slowly releasing the clamps so they bite down gingerly on his nipples. His head lolls back, back pressed firmly against the chair he was sat in, crimson eyes locking with yours in sweet, sweet pleasure.

“Kitten— ah— more. Please.” He begs, though it’s comes out as a breathy whine as hands struggle against the flimsy restraints. He knows it’d take less of an effort to break out of them than it does to keep a lid on his self control. Your scent is in the air driving him mad, and that sadistic little glint in your eye makes his cock twitch with glee.

“More what, my love?” You coo, caressing his face softly, fingers dancing on his lips teasingly, “No use in being shy now.”

His jaw goes slack, eyes still boring into yours like a well trained dog as your digits slip past his parted lips, fish hooking the inside of his cheek to open that perfect mouth ever wider.

Tsk-ing at him for his lack of response, too enamored with the way your brow furrows, that hateful little look in your eye when he disobeys as you tug on the chains, the clamps pulling his nipples intoxicatingly taut. Mewling, tears of pleasure beading at the corners of his eyes.

You were like a beautiful little reflection, a relentless conqueror in your own right. Both of you feeding into the others ever growing greed and depravity. An ever evolving cycle of exchanging power.

“Be a good little pet and I’ll give you a reward.” You smile, your eyes wild and alight with a burning fervor to watch the big, bad man in front of you crumble by your hand.

“Touch me more. Please.” It’s hoarse and desperate, the image of you dominating him alone is enough to leave him spurting hot thick cum into his briefs most nights, actually seeing it without cumming on the spot is an intense act of self control.

You hum a small sound of approval, “Show me your tongue, pretty.” You gush, hearts practically forming in your eyes while you watch it loll out, drool cascading off the pointy tip and dripping down his chest.

And he should probably feel more embarrassed, shouldn’t enjoy being called feminine little nicknames as much as he does.

But, he can’t help the precum spilling from the tip of his blushing pink head as you cradle his jaw so mean and rough, craning his neck so his cheek is pressed flush against your plush breasts, nipples all but poking out of the top of your bra. Spitting into his maw so deviously, letting it pour slowly between you and into his eager mouth.

He can’t help the desperate little ‘thank you’s’ falling out of his mouth, especially not when you’re reaching down and finally touching his cock. He’s whimpering, the sweet, minty taste of you burning down his throat as your thumb plugs up his weeping tip.

“Would you like some for your cock as well, honey?” Your breathy whisper on the shell of his ear sends electric shocks down his spine. He’s bucking his hips so hungrily against your touch, only to put more pressure on that all too sensitive tip.

He’s nodding, mouth open but no sound escaping. You consider being cruel, making him use his words or threatening to leave him high and dry for the rest of the night.

It was a very attractive consideration. He’d probably end up rutting against you in bed just to feel some sort of relief, and another cycle of punishment would inevitably begin again.

But, you decided he’d been quite the good boy, he deserved a little grace. For now.

So you did as he so clearly needed, spitting aggressively on his achy head, the sensation making his balls squeeze.

You sauntered to his side, bending down so your clothed pussy was inches away from his face. Your sickly sweet scent invading his senses so meanly. You slowly untied his restraints, freeing both of his hands in minutes instead of seconds.

He looks up at you, eyes wide in anticipation of your next order, cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

“On your knees, baby.” You lilt, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead before stepping back. And he’s always been an exceedingly good listener so, like a good pup, he drops to his knees, dick slapping against heavily his stomach as his shins touch the cool marble.

“Let me see you cum, my love.” You smile, feeling an overwhelming sense of blood rushing glee as you watch his face drop, knowing he thought you’d be the one making him reach a mind melting orgasm. He whimpers, one hand gripping his shaft while the other wraps around his balls, unmoving.

You tut at him, “And to think I was going to let you eat my pussy.” You tease, pulling your panties to the side, displaying that pretty pink clit he so desperately wants to lick at as you use your other hand to spread your lips.

His hand squeezes involuntarily around his shaft, a deranged smile spreading across his beautiful features. “ ‘M ready to be your perch, kitten.”

And god, was the man beautiful. His eyes looking at you so lovingly as he pulled insatiably at his throbbing cock, your saliva squelching and bubbling through the gaps in his fingers, dripping down and coating his balls as he tugged and tugged at them.

“So good f’me, Sy.” You gush, standing on your tip toes to sit your puffy folds on his face, sinking down before gripping his silver locks, making him focus. “No cumming before me now.”

That wouldn’t prove to be too hard, he makes quick work of pulling your clit between his lips, suckling and nibbling on the bundle of nerves, eyes fluttering as they so desperately wanted to close in unadulterated pleasure.

“You taste so good, sweetie. So perfect.” He mewls, palm pulsing as he tries to replicate the last time he felt your plush walls milking and stretching around his cock.

You can’t help but praise him and belittle him, little breaths of “You look so pretty down there.” and “The big, bad leader of Onychinus is such a slut.” between giggles and held back moans.

His head is dizzying as he drinks in your nectar, your sweet slick pooling around the corners of his mouth, dripping down his chin as he struggles to collect it all in his crazed devouring. He’s bucking his slutty hips into his hand, releasing his balls to add another hand to his needy, long shaft. Crying fucked out sounds of pleasure into your pussy that serve as another stimulant.

And it’s then you decide to punish him no more. His brow furrowing as he chases and denies his own orgasm. He looked so perfect like this. A man of poise and status reduced to nothing but a begging, achy mess at your beck and call.

He sobbed as you pulled your drooling cunt from him, a stringy mix of slick and saliva the only thing tethering you, but just like a good dog, he continues his assault on his cock.

“No, please. ‘M sorry. I’ll do it better.” He pleads, hungry and yearning for the taste of you. Sometimes you wonder how you could’ve become so twisted as to enjoy this sight, but those thoughts don’t stick around for long.

Not as your pulling your panties the rest of the way off and stuffing them in his mouth. Watching his eyes cross and roll back as you, his one and only angel, his savior, come down to his level, swatting his hands away from his cock and gripping them in your own.

And he thinks this is the end for him, that this was the last reward you were going to bestow upon him. But he’s seeing stars as you hover over him, sliding the precum dribbling from his tip against your cock hungry cunt. All he can do is let out pathetic little cries with a smile.

Your head rolls back, a throaty moan escaping from you as you sink down onto him, taking every girthy inch in one go, needy hole stretching so deliciously around him.

“Oh Sy, I’ve been teasing you so long I forgot how good your cock feels.” You croon, fingers interlocking at the back of his neck. The praise isn’t helping the knot in his stomach that’s struggling to keep from snapping, trying to be oh so good for his precious kitten.

You’re mean too, wholly unfair. Cruel really. Holding him in place so he has to look into your pretty eyes as you tell him how good he is, how you wanted to break him in front of a crowd of people, show everyone who the Boss truly was, a good boy who sucks on panties while you fuck him. The way you tighten your walls around him purposefully in rhythm with every slide down on his cock, was damning him to eternal punishment.

His fingers were creating dents in the floor as he did everything he could to hold himself back, your ass slapping so furiously against his thighs, his balls covered in your cream and slick. He was babbling muffled, incoherent plea’s. Back and forth between begging you to let him cum and sobbing for you to slow down so he didn’t.

His length is prodding so perfectly against that spongey spot inside you, your mind going blank as you gush your release all over him. Like a dam that had broke, pooling on the floor underneath you, beading down his toned abdomen.

A switch inside him flips, the sounds of his pussy drunk moans reverberating in the space between you as he finally cums, his hips lifting to reach as deep inside you as he can, painting every inch of your insides white. His cock is pulsing, his orgasm almost painful as every nerve of his body is being lit on fire. He’s panting, whining, pathetic as his head lolls forward to rest on your shoulder. A myriad of ‘thank you’s falling from his lips.

You find pleasure in the feeling of it gushing out of you, absentmindedly pushing it out to make way for his still hard cock as he’s fucking up into you, that primal part of his brain overtaking him.

You rudely pop off him, letting the remaining mix of arousal pool on that patch of silver on his pelvic bone while he’s still twitching and groaning. You make your way toward the shower, but not before looking over your shoulder to give him one last tease.

“Next time, be prepared for my fingers.”

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

hi pookies posting earlier than i was planning hehe(: this one is a lot longer than my previous ones <3 i hope u enjoy my little freaks. HACHI LOVES U FOREVAAAA

xoxo

Hachi

[emmyrosee]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a modern!au sukuna x fem!reader in which they're dating and they're babysitting little yuji for the day, going to the park, grocery store, or whatever, and some old lady thinks yuji is their son and sukuna and reader had yuji as teens so she starts judging, making comments and kinda insulting them for having a kid so young. (but yuji is just sukuna's little brother)

I hope what I said made sens 😅 and feel totally free to ignore my request if you don't want to do it or if you're not taking requests at the moment :)

tw// mean old ladies, insinuations of s3x in teenage years, sukuna talking back, lots of swearing, mentions of death, I wouldn’t normally put warnings but juuuuuuuuuust in case

There’s a scoff that rings out in the air as the last of your footstep passes her. It’s enough to make Sukuna stop on impact. You turn to him, and Yuuji in his stroller looks up to see what the stop is, but Sukuna’s eyes are firm in annoyance, the vein in his forehead pulsing.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, spinning on his heel. “Is there a problem, maam?” His voice dribbles sarcasm, and you feel your heart rate pick up from anxiety.

When you turn to face the old woman, her face is twisted in judgement, wrinkles furrowed deeper than natural as she glares past Sukuna and burrows her sights onto you. A chill shrills down your spine as her cold gaze fixes on you.

“Babies having babies,” she snarls cruelly, and you see Sukuna’s knuckles lighten from the force of gripping the handles. “You couldn’t keep it in your pants, and you couldn’t close your legs, hmm? Reproducing when you shouldn’t be. You ought to be embarrassed.”

You cheeks heat up in embarrassment, but when you look up at sukuna again, his grin is curled devilishly. You sigh, “sukuna, come on-“

“No,” he hisses. “I want to hear what the crypt keeper’s gotta say. One foot in the grave, one on a fucking oil spill and you’re wasting your breath spilling bullshit? You oughta be embarrassed.”

She clutches her chest in offense, “I can’t stand you youths these days, wasting your life on each other, disappointing your parents. Why they’d ever approve of you keeping that sin in the carriage is ridiculous.”

You’re quick to grab Sukuna’s collar and keep him from launching at the lady. He’s not happy about being stopped, he’s practically frothing at the mouth in rage, but at your grip, he stands down.

His mouth however, does not.

“I’m offended people like you even get to breathe my air,” he snarls, and you try to ignore the look the old lady gives you- she looks almost prideful to be getting such a reaction. “That child is not sin, that’s my fucking little brother- and even if it was, if you looked at him and the first thing you thought of was my girlfriend and I smashing, you need to tell your fucking hospice nurse, you pervert.”

“Sukuna-“

“It’s not my fault nor concern that your husband died from an asthma attack your dusty old pussy gave him, but if you ask me, he dodged a fucking bullet because holy fuck if I had to spend my days waiting for you to die first, I’d pull the plug myself.”

“Sukuna!”

“You think you get to sit here and judge my girlfriend, my self, my fucking brother without consequence, you are sadly mistaken. And I sincerely hope that, with the bottom of my soul, that when your decrepit heart finally decides to stop and bless the world by taking your life, no one bats an eye. If this is how you treat strangers with a child, I would love to see how you treat your loved ones. Sit on it and fucking twist, you old bitch.” Then, he flashes her a smile, “have the day you fucking deserve, you twat.”

The woman stares at him, eyes wide and jaw agape. You also, stare at him with wide eyes and an agape jaw, and it isn’t until he wraps his arm around your waist and starts to push the carriage again, that you follow.

“Sukuna,” you say, voice shaky. “Why…?”

“Because no one gets to look at my fucking family in any way other than damn respect,” he growls, fingers digging into your hip from anger. “No one.”

“No, I mean…” you swallow thickly. “Why do people feel the need to be so cruel?”

“The world is cruel,” he says flatly. Then, he sighs and shakes his head, “but I have no issue in putting terrible people in their place. Especially for yuuji. Especially for you.”

You smile softly and lay your hand on his, lacing your fingers with his as they rest on your hip, “we’re lucky to have you then, aren’t we?”

He chuckles, “it’s about time you appreciate it.”

[softaestluv]

Three’s A Crowd

When you moved into your new apartment complex you thought your biggest concern would be something practical such as mold in the shower or weak water pressure. Maybe even the smell of lingering cigarette smoke or marijuana from previous tenants.

You never expected it to be your neighbors who seemed to have a sex drive that rivaled any succubus or horned college teenager.

Ghoap x Neighbor! Reader

This chapter does contain smut! 18+ content!

Tags: Teasing, Flirting, Attempt at humor, Ghoap are cocky dicks who also have big d!cks, butt plugs, lingerie, dirty talk, & self masturbation

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5 | masterlist

A box.

A small box left on your doorstep.

You had assumed it was a package you ordered, even though you didn’t quite remember ordering one. However, the box wasn’t what frazzled you; it was the contents inside that had your face burning.

It was a lingerie set.

Pink lace.

Tiniest thong you’ve ever seen, decorated with delicate frills.

Thigh highs with a garter belt, two white bows on the back of each stocking.

Baby doll dress, see-through and ruffled.

A small metal item, a pink diamond skull etched on the end of the cork, had you furrowing your brows at the sight. You didn’t know what it was, but you definitely didn’t order it.

You closed the box, reading the name out loud, “Simon Riley.”

You didn’t know a Simon. Didn’t know a neighbor named Simon. You couldn’t imagine any of your other neighbors ordering these items besides John and Lieutenant Riley next door. Though, the lingerie looked a little too small to fit John.

Either way you made your way over, knocking on their door. Greeted by a clothed Riley, thanking the gods above that you didn’t have to stare at his defined pecs or hips bones.

“Uhm, I think I might’ve got one of your packages on accident.”

“Hhm?” He hummed, opening the flaps of the cardboard as you held it out to him on your palms.

He pulled the babydoll dress out, holding it between the two of you. Your face burnt at the sight, embarrassment stinging your chest as he held it up like it was nothing. Held it for any other neighbor to walk out and see. Looked even tinier in his large palms.

“Hmm, no. It’s yours.”

You shook your head, laughing stiffly, “Ah, no, I didn’t order this.”

“I know.” He placed the baby doll back in the box and closed the flaps, tapping his fingers on the top, “I did.”

“What?”

“I ripped your panties didn’t I?” He mused, leaning against the door frame, and crossed his arms. A smug position you were starting to get tired of.

“This is more than panties.” You deadpanned, clenching your fingers around the stupid cardboard.

“Thought you would look good in these too,” He said, shrugging his shoulders like you were talking about the weather and not sexy lingerie that he had bought you.

You, a complete stranger to him other than living next to him. And he was buying you lingerie of all things. A first for a housewarming gift.

“What about this?” You asked, grabbing the metal cork, “What’s this?”

He chuckled darkly, “A butt plug.”

“What?” Your eyes widened, dropping it into the box like it burnt your fingertips, “What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Well,” He smirked, pulling it back out, “I got you a small one. I assumed you’ve never used one before, so it should be pretty easy for you to make fit. It just keeps you stretched and prepped for anal sex. Though, you’ll have to finger yourself first. But Johnny and I can always help you with that, if you want.”

Your mouth gaped, frantically waving a free hand in front of him to get him to shut the hell up, ears ringing with warmth, “Stop! Stop! Please! I get it!”

You placed the box against his chest, shaking your head earnestly, “I’m not taking this.”

“I bought it for you, doll.”

“I’m never going to wear this,” You said, emphasizing your words when you pointed to the butt plug, “Or use that.”

“Keep it. You might change your mind someday. Or think of us when using it, at least.”

With that, he closed the door and left you standing in the open hallway with a box full of lingerie and sex toys. At least you finally knew the masked man’s first name.

You had planned not to use the items— ever.

Had thrown them in your closet the moment you returned from the embarrassing interaction in the hallway. Couldn’t believe the audacity of your cocky-ass neighbors.

Just because they were sex addicts didn’t mean everyone was fine with receiving sex toys as gifts.

Your past lovers hadn’t even bought you sex toys or lingerie, for that matter. None of which would even imagine using a toy on you.

Except a few days later, you had been awakened to, big surprise, John’s Scottish moaning. You don’t know what came over you, why you had laid awake and willingly listened to the noises they were making. Didn’t try to drown them out with headphones or pillows.

Maybe it’s because in the back of your mind there was that box in your closet, dainty frills, and metal butt plug.

The fact that they had bought it with you in mind, imagined you in the delicate lace, and pink metal. Had thought you would look pretty in it, made you jump up, digging through your closet to find the stupid box.

You didn’t even know how to use one, never had anything near your ass before. But Simon’s words kept ringing in your head, and for some reason, their deep grunts had your body hot. Burning with uncertain desire. Laid there: butt plug in one hand, lube in the other.

Maybe this was their plan all along; moan so loudly that one day your body would react, would have your core warming.

It didn’t fucking matter why because they would never know, would never actually see you in it. So you gathered the lube on your index finger before you could have second thoughts, dipping into your panties. Goosebumps formed on your skin at the cold consistency, jumping slightly in reaction.

You started slow, spreading the lube around your rim. It wasn’t necessarily an amazing feeling, but your nerves had you reacting strongly, uncharted territory made it that more exciting.

When you built enough courage you slipped the tip of your index finger in, fighting the resistance from your walls, inhaling deep at the foreign intrusion. It didn’t hurt, but it did feel uncomfortable. Felt full, like your finger didn’t belong there. It was harder to push the whole digit in, had to regulate your breathing to bottom out.

“There we go, Johnny.” Simon’s voice came through the wall, hoarse and tense.

Made you clench around your finger, breathe hiccuping as you imagined he was saying it to you. That he was praising you for taking one of his fingers.

You couldn’t even imagine how his or John’s fingers would feel inside you. Your index finger alone had you adjusting to the stretch, and their hands were twice the size of yours.

Your hips arched down before you even realized it; instincts seeking out a different kind of stretch. A stretch only the men across the wall could provide, brawny and massive. Would have you stretched thin around their thick knuckles.

You tried to push your middle finger in, but your walls wouldn’t have it. Made you whimper quietly under your breath when you had to scrape your index finger through the ridges of your walls, making yourself lax and pliant to press your second finger in.

The second finger hurt, had your eyes widening and your body tensing tightly, but it was as if Simon knew, mumbled praises to John just when you needed.

“You can take it, be a good boy for me.”

His low drawl practically had your body loosening and the whine that followed from John after made the burn subside slightly.

Your legs were shaking as you bottomed the second finger out, couldn’t hold in the soft mewls that slipped past your throat when you slowly began to fuck them in and out of your walls. Trying your best to ignore the pain, focus on Simon and John’s moans and praised and not the sting.

Pretend as if you were in the room with them, that you weren’t a block of plaster away. That it was Simon’s fingers inside of you, John’s fingers on your clit, both of them on either side of your frame, whispering low hums in your ears.

You were embarrassingly close to finishing, hadn’t even inserted the butt plug. So you lathered the cold metal in lube, pressed it to your hole, tried your best to relax as you bullied it through your walls. Squeezed your eyes tightly shut as the slender tip enlarged, and broke through your entrance with a wet pop.

Made you snap your hips down with a loud gasp, eyes welling with tears at the intrusion. A gasp so loud the motions behind the walls stopped, noises dying into silence as you slapped your hand over your mouth. Eyes widened in embarrassment because they definitely heard that.

But that wasn’t even the most distracting part; the butt plug was pressed to the hilt now, gem rested against your rim. Had your breaths faltering in your chest, felt incredibly full.

“Did ya hear that, Johnny?”

“I did, Si.”

You cringed, burying yourself into your blankets, butt plug forgotten, face burnt too strongly to care about anything else.

“Think our birdie decided to join us.”

You held your breath, made yourself as tiny as possible between your sheets, and tried to make no noise. Hide from them even from the comfort of your own sheets. But your movements made the butt plug press deep into your walls, had you crying out in shock.

A noise that had both men chuckling darkly behind the wall, continuing the onslaught of thrusts, you presumed, to Johnny.

Their acknowledgment, the fact that they knew you were across the way, fucking yourself with the butt plug they bought you. To their fucking noises had your body heating in a way you’ve never felt before, embarrassment, humiliation. But it made any uncomfortable tenses from the plug evaporated from your body, melting into blinding pleasure.

Each thrust had you reacting stronger than the last, moans matching that of the men across the wall. Quivering as you replayed their words in your mind.

‘our birdie’

Made each movement that more intense.

Didn’t even care that they could hear you, synced your motions with them, clenching down sporadically around the bulb as you came, Johnny’s moans edging you along as you convulsed. Squeezed the plug so tightly you were sure it would break in two.

Came undone around the stupid butt plug they bought you, to the sounds you had grown to despise.

Tag list: @avatar-lover @cheese-pull @entityunbound @theheartcollecter @leon-thot-kennedy @yunho-leeknow @star-buck-barnes @bluebarrybubblez

[misc-obeyme]

Demon Brothers as Subs Headcanons

Almost didn't post this 'cause I'm feeling self conscious about it for some reason. So here's me being brave. I told y'all I was in a smut phase. I'm so sorry. Just gonna drop this and run, see ya.

GN!MC x the demon brothers

Side Characters as Subs Bros as Doms

NSFW MDNI

Note: There are a lot of warnings, but most of this stuff is just briefly mentioned. These are headcanons of things they'd be into.

Warnings: Dom!MC, bondage, blindfolds, gags, toys, praise, humiliation, degradation, spanking, edging, orgasm denial, collaring, begging, dacryphilia, role play, voice kink, dirty talk, biting, hair pulling, exhibitionism, shibari, food play, hot wax, breath play, blood kink, somnophilia. I THINK THAT'S IT.

Lucifer

He won’t do it until he’s comfortable with you. It takes some time, a little coaxing, and constant reassurance. You have to earn his trust if you want to see him being vulnerable. Once he’s agreed, though, you find him surprisingly compliant. He’s ready to take every order, easily falling into the role of obedience.

Once he’s fully comfortable with you, Lucifer likes to release all control. He wants to be told what to do, to surrender fully. He loves to be restrained. He enjoys watching you take the time to tie him up carefully. He’ll surprise you by requesting a gag. He likes to feel a bit helpless, like he can’t even speak to you, completely at your mercy. He appreciates a blindfold for the same reason.

Just as he wants you to give him orders, he wants you to enforce them, too. If he fails to do what you ask, he wants you to punish him for it. Lucifer has a high pain tolerance but a low humiliation tolerance. Pulling him over your knee for a spanking would be effective, but he might ask you to use an implement simply because he knows your hand won’t be enough. If he does manage to say anything about it, though, he’s blushing and refusing to look at you because the embarrassment is really the worst part. If you do punish him, it won’t be long before he’s whimpering in your lap, promising to be good and begging you to touch him.

Lucifer will swear you to secrecy. If you ever tell anyone, MC, especially his brothers, about any of the things he says and does during these times, he’ll kill you himself. These are empty threats, of course, because he wouldn’t do any of this at all if he didn’t trust you to keep it to yourself. He just feels the need to threaten you about it because it makes him feel better.

Mammon

He doesn’t have as much of a hang up about this and will readily agree to sub for you if you ask him. He’s going to be slightly embarrassed about it, but not enough for it to be an issue. And once you get into it, his embarrassment dissipates because he’s so focused on how good you make him feel.

Mammon is the one with a praise kink. He doesn’t like punishments and is far more likely to respond well to positive reinforcement. If you want to rile him up any time and any place, all you have to do is call him a good boy. He might even do things for you without you asking just to see if you’ll say it.

He also enjoys being tied up. He likes to feel that he’s entirely in your hands. He isn’t too fond of gags because he likes to be vocal. He’s always babbling the whole time you’re doing anything with him and it’s usually all begging. If you tell him to be quiet, it will be difficult for him. And anyway, it’s far more satisfying listening to him cry and whine and repeat your name over and over.

Mammon likes to be considered your property. If you want to collar him, he’s happy to wear it. He doesn’t care who sees it and if someone asks, he’ll tell them about it proudly.

While praise is his preference, he’ll be okay with a little humiliation, too. Please talk dirty to him, MC. Call him your little slut and he’ll be agreeing with you and asking for more.

He loves accessories and toys. Put that man in a harness, give him a cock ring, or one of those shiny bejeweled anal plugs. He loves to dress up for you, especially if it's in something sparkly or gold.

Also loves to be fucked. Let him sit in your lap and ride you (or your strap) and he’ll lose himself entirely. He won’t last long, but he’s also ready to go again quickly.

Leviathan

Although Levi is clearly the subbiest of subs, he’s also extremely nervous. You gotta calm that anxiety a little bit if you want him to make it through the experience without having a heart attack.

Because of this anxiety, he might not be willing to do it for a little while. He needs a bit of reassurance, to feel fully safe with you, before he’s willing to try it. Make sure you talk to him about everything ahead of time and establish some solid safe words.

Once he’s agreed, though… well, we all know Levi is the one with the humiliation kink. And not just calling him names, he wants you to degrade him. Tell him how useless and gross he is. Just make sure you give him some after care where you tell him that you don’t actually think that way about him. He won’t realize how much it matters to hear you say that until you do.

Alternatively, surprise him by praising him instead. It will shock him so much, he might start to cry. D-do you really mean that, MC?

Turns out, Levi is a bit of crier in general. It’s the embarrassment. He blushes so easily and when you make him feel good, especially in a humiliating way, he can’t help the physical reaction of tears. They’ll end up streaming down his cheeks by the time you’re done.

He’s not sure about punishment at first, but if you suggest it he’s willing to try it out. This can range from orgasm denial to spanking. He’s surprisingly receptive once he gets comfortable with the idea. He might find he prefers to be good, but occasionally he can get really bratty. So you might have to get a bit creative to bring him back in line. When you do, it flusters him so bad he doesn't do anything even remotely brat like for a long time.

Satan

Easily the most stubborn when it comes to getting comfortable enough to sub for you. It’s going to take a lot of trust and reassurance, even more than Lucifer. But eventually, you can convince him.

He will be much more receptive if you include something cute like a cat collar or even a maid dress. He likes the way you react to him and he also just likes to wear those things himself. They make him feel like he can let his guard down a little easier.

Satan does not like humiliation and will not respond well to this. He needs a gentle touch. He loves praise and a little pampering - he will be happy if you focus all your attention on him. He’ll accept a soft dom situation best. Tell him he’s a good boy, but be firm when you need to.

He has a voice kink. Tie him up and blindfold him then read erotic stories or romantic poetry to him. If you really want to rile him up, whisper dirty talk in his ear. He won’t like insults, but he will love to hear you describe what you want to do to him.

Satan also likes pain. Bite him, please, he wants to feel your teeth in his flesh. He likes the way the marks look on him, too, but he’ll insist they only arise in locations he can easily hide. He’s too embarrassed to let anyone else but you see them.

Requires plenty of after care, kisses, and praise. Take care of him well enough and he’ll even suggest it himself next time. But if you ever breathe a word of it to anyone else, he'll be in demon form so fast you won't know what hit you. Be careful because he will turn the tables on you, MC.

Asmodeus

Not even a question. Asmo is ready to do whatever you want, any time. He will sub for you without question, but don’t misunderstand him. He likes doing both and although he’s willing to do just about anything, he still has preferences.

He likes to be worshiped. He’ll indulge you if you want to humiliate him, but he thrives on being told how stunning and beautiful he is. He just wants to hear you say that he’s the only one you’re interested in, whether it’s true or not.

Although Asmo doesn’t have a problem with things that leave marks, he’s hesitant to do anything that could cause lasting issues for his skin. Just be careful with his delicate body, MC! But he’s also willing to let quite a bit slide in the name of feeling good. He does like a little pain with his pleasure and his favorite is hair pulling. Doesn’t leave a mark and it's easily fixed in the after math.

He also enjoys being on display. He always wants to have mirror sex or semi-public sex. If you’re into exhibitionism, he will agree to that readily. Let him perform for you (and anyone else who happens to be around).

Similarly, he’s happy to take orders that involve doing a strip tease or a lap dance. He likes to do role play and will dress up as anything you want. Also loves shibari, tie him up in some beautiful knots, please.

Finds punishments a little funny. He can get a little bit bratty about it. But if you seem like you’re really annoyed with him, he’ll switch to being obedient real quick. But he enjoys things like orgasm denial because oh what a rush! He sees it as a challenge. How much can he take? Far more than you’re likely anticipating.

Beelzebub

He will absolutely sub for you if that’s what you want. A very good boy who is willing to do just about anything to make you happy. He’s not embarrassed about it at all and he’s ready to dive right in.

Generally, he’ll do anything you want. Very easy, very compliant. He likes when you give him orders. He likes when you tell him what to do. He knows that if he does well, you’ll be happy with him and he likes that.

Beel likes praise, but he doesn’t have a problem with humiliation, either. In fact, it’s a little difficult to really humiliate him. He’s not easily embarrassed or flustered, he’s solid and steady, so you’ll have to work hard if that’s what you want. He likes to use a title for you, like master or whatever variation you prefer.

He considers any kind of food play a reward from you. If you involve the usual things like whipped cream or chocolate, he sees it as you doing something special just for him. And he’ll work hard to please you, even more than usual. Thank you for this treat, MC.

He can take a lot. He enjoys pain. Biting, spanking, hot wax, even choking, any of the above will be something he enjoys. He likes that he can feel both pleasure and pain at the same time. It gives him a rush and he gets excited about it, almost without meaning to. Similarly, he enjoys being tied up, blindfolded, or gagged. He likes when you’re in total control of him.

The only thing Beel really doesn’t like is edging. He’s fine with overstimulation, but edging will frustrate him. He can’t take too much of that and will absolutely devolve into begging you for release pretty quickly.

Since he's basically impossible to embarrass, he has no problem telling anyone and everyone what you get up to with him. You might have to be the one to tell him to keep it to himself, he just doesn't understand why anyone would care.

Belphegor

He likes the idea of subbing because he thinks it involves less work for him. But he is by far the brattiest sub of all the brothers. So he’s right because you’re the one with your work cut out for you. Be prepared to become a brat tamer.

He’ll take easy orders, but give him anything too involved and he’ll get petulant. Surprisingly, responds well to you being rough with him. If you’re going to be the dom, he really wants you to dominate him. He likes it when you manhandle him.

Yes okay he likes the breath play. But he also enjoys pain in general. He has a blood kink. Bite him and make him bleed. He’s gonna love any kind of vampire role play, he’ll straight up drink your blood if you want him to.

Belphie wants you to humiliate him. Tell him he’s a dirty whore, use him however you like. If you let him, he'll dish it right back to you, though.

Obviously into somnophilia. Is he asleep when you wanna fuck him? Go right ahead, MC. He doesn’t need to be awake for you to make use of him. Though if you start, he might wake up just so he can get off, too. If that happens, expect him to mouth off at you until you take him in hand.

Belphie is another one who will wear a collar all the time if you want him to. He likes strappy leather things and will gladly wear a harness or any other such items. He doesn’t care too much about blindfolds or gags, but he does like being tied up.

He doesn’t care who knows about the way he submits to you. If you want him to wear a collar, he’ll make sure it’s visible to everyone. Similarly into exhibitionism. It feels like he’s almost daring anybody to say anything about it.

side characters as subs | bros as doms | side characters as doms masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[orangeblossomsintheair]

TEENAGE DIRTBAG | CS55

this was for a request that i lost !! teenage dirtbag carlos is canon in my heart

carlos knows exactly how much you love his teenage photos.

every time you stumble upon one, you can’t help but coo over his younger self, especially the ones where he’s rocking his piercings, a small silver hoop on his nose and both ears pierced with black studs.

you always gush about how he looked so cool and edgy back then, teasing him about how he could've been mistaken for a rebellious rockstar.

carlos always chuckles at your enthusiasm, slightly embarrassed but secretly pleased that you adore even his more experimental teenage phase.

"you looked so badass," you'd say, running your fingers over his ear and pretending to look for the long-gone piercings.

it’s a random day in january when he catches you sitting cross-legged on the couch, his photo album open in your lap. “here we go again,” he sighs playfully. “how many times are you going to look at those?”

you glance up with a mischievous grin. “until my eyes burn a hole through it,” you reply, holding up a photo of teenage carlos giving a smoldering look to the camera, a sight that has become painfully familiar again these days. “look at you! a total heartthrob. why did you ever take the piercings out?”

carlos chuckles, dropping onto the couch beside you. “because I didn’t want people thinking I was in a boyband instead of formula 1,” he teases, leaning over to grab the album from you.

“but you could’ve been in a boyband,” you argue, tugging it back. “or a rockstar! I mean, look at this one-” you point to a photo of him with tousled hair and an almost-too-cool-for-school expression. “you’re telling me teenage carlos wasn’t stealing hearts left and right?”

he smirks, pretending to think. “maybe a few,” he admits with a wink. “but i think i like the fact that i’m stealing yours now even more.”

you roll your eyes, laughing as he leans in to kiss your cheek. “nice save,” you mutter, still grinning.

carlos glances down at the album and shakes his head fondly. “you really like those photos, huh?”

“like? i’m obsessed,” you declare, holding up another one. “you were so cool.”

“you think so?” carlos raises a brow, smirking. “you should’ve seen me trying to convince my dad to let me get those piercings. that wasn’t so cool.”

“oh, really? do tell,” you say, settling in closer, your eyes alight with curiosity.

he chuckles, leaning back as if replaying the memory in his mind. “I was.. 16? 17? I’d just gotten my ears done, and i was feeling pretty invincible, you know? like i was zayn malik. so i went to my dad and told him i wanted a nose piercing.”

carlos laughs. “he looks at me like i’ve lost my mind. he goes to say, ‘carlos, if you put another hole in your body, you’d better find a way to plug it up before you come back into this house.’ and ‘are you trying to scare off sponsors?”

he shrugs. “i told him it was staying. and it did, for a year. then i got tired of cleaning it all the time and took it out before a big karting event.”

“a year?!” you gasp, staring at him in disbelief. “you had a nose piercing for a year and never thought to keep it for the memories?”

“i have the photos, don’t i?” he counters, gesturing to the album.

you sigh dramatically, all wistful and dreamy. “i wish i’d known teenage you. i would’ve been all over that.”

he tilts his head, giving you a sly look. “would you, though? i wasn’t exactly charming back then.”

“you’re not exactly charming now,” you tease back, earning a playful shove.

there’s a short silence filled with you flipping the pages of the album, broken only when you blurt out. “you should bring the piercings back. just for me.”

“not happening,” he says almost immediately, laughing, shaking his head.

“why not?” you whine. “you’d look so good!”

“because i’m not 16 anymore. the piercings were a phase,” he says.

“lame,” you mutter, pouting

“but maybe… if you keep being this cute about it, i’ll wear a fake one and we can pretend.”

you gasp dramatically. “deal.”

“dios mío,” carlos groans, though the way he’s smiling tells you he doesn’t mind at all.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hi, hope you’re doing well! May I request a pillow fight with the prompt “you should’ve told me you were afraid of storms” with Aaron Hotchner? Maybe the reader is a bit stubborn about it but Hotch is just his lovely self. I trust your judgment!

Thanks for what you do! Happy sleepover!!

hi angel! you may request for hotch! i missed writing for that old man!

At the first crack of thunder you jostle and Aaron glances at you sideways. It's a quick glance; one you ignore when you feel his eyes burning into the side of your face.

Aaron is a good profiler because he already knows, but he's trying to be a better partner so he's waiting for you to come to him.

He's not sure how much longer he can wait for you to tell him that you're terrified of the storms.

At the next crack of lightning and the roll of the thunder you squeak, and Aaron puts his book down with a sigh.

"Honey," you look at him with wide eyes and a hand to your racing heart. "You should've told me you were afraid of storms."

You shake your head, "It's embarrassing." Aaron scoffs and pats his lap, calling you over.

When you refuse, he sighs hard. Aaron reaches across your sofa, hands on your hips as he tugs you into his lap. "It isn't embarrassing," you whine, and Aaron holds a back a smile. "It could be a little rooted in trauma, but it's not embarrassing."

"Aaron, it is embarrassing! I'm an adult scared of thunder."

He shakes his head, his big hands crawling up your neck to hold onto your cheeks. "You're scared of loud sounds, honey. That's okay, I just wish you said something, because then we could've been using those noise cancelling ear plugs."

You let your head drop further into his hands, voice barely a murmur, "Can't you just cover my ears with your hands?"

Aaron kisses your forehead, "I can do that too honey." his hands stay over your ears for the rest of the night, a gentle pressure to keep the sound from echoing in your ears as the storm carries on.

[diamonddaze01]

May i request prompt 81 "you weren't supposed to hear that" with Mingyu? But something cute/fluffy? <3

seasoned with love

pairing: mingyu x reader | wc: 0.9k prompt: "you weren't supposed to hear that." au: chef!mingyu au | warnings: none a/n: set in the same universe as love: best served hot (shameless plug you should go read that too if u love chef mingoo)

The evening rush was slowly winding down, but the kitchen hummed with its usual rhythm. The faint crackle of oil, the hiss of fresh vegetables meeting the sizzling heat, and the soft clatter of plates filled the air. The smell—garlic, rosemary, and something richer that you couldn't quite place—wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Mingyu's kitchen had its own energy, its own language, a chaotic comfort that you had come to love.

You hadn’t planned on staying long—just wanted to surprise him, maybe share a quiet dinner together. You were no stranger to the hours he worked, so you knew he'd still be at the restaurant long after most had already called it a night. You lingered outside, listening to the sounds of the kitchen, the laughter and chatter of the staff mixing with the low thrum of pots and pans.

The door to the kitchen was slightly ajar, and you hesitated for just a moment before quietly stepping closer, drawn by the warmth and the sound of Mingyu’s familiar voice. You had every intention of just slipping in unnoticed—an unexpected visitor who’d make his night a little brighter.

As you approached, the voices inside grew clearer, and you halted when you heard Mingyu’s low voice.

“I don’t know how she does it, man,” Mingyu’s voice rumbled from inside, smooth and casual. But there was something softer underneath, something vulnerable in the way he spoke. “Like, no matter how tired I am or how crazy the day’s been… when she walks in, it’s like everything just... calms down. I don’t even need to say anything, she just knows. It’s kind of crazy.”

You paused, suddenly unsure whether to reveal yourself. But Mingyu’s voice was too soothing, too filled with affection to ignore. You couldn’t help but lean in closer, silently listening as he continued.

“I swear, she’s my grounding force, you know?” His tone shifted, a warmth lacing the words as though he was letting something private slip out without realizing it. “She makes everything feel... lighter. More worth it.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face, heart warming at his words. You didn’t notice the slight creak of the door beneath your hand, and before you knew it, you had stepped fully into the room, revealing yourself to Mingyu.

His words cut off abruptly, and his eyes snapped to you, wide with surprise. The sudden shift in his demeanor was so evident you could almost feel it in the air. The cool, collected chef you knew now stood frozen, caught between a moment of revelation and his usual confident self.

“Oh—” His voice jumped up an octave as he quickly straightened, one hand instinctively reaching up to adjust the towel slung over his shoulder. His eyes flickered between you and the kitchen counter, a flush creeping over his cheeks. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” His attempt at nonchalance was laughable; his voice was suddenly louder, a little too sharp. You couldn’t miss the slight nervousness in the way he stood.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms with a playful tilt of your head. “And why’s that?”

Mingyu swallowed, clearly flustered, but the sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips betrayed his embarrassment. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to feign casualness, though his stance was all too stiff. “Uh, well... you know... it’s, uh, kinda embarrassing to talk about you like that... behind your back.”

You pushed yourself off the wall and took a step closer, a teasing grin forming on your lips. His warmth enveloped you as you moved, the familiar scent of his apron and the kitchen’s spices lingering in the air. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in just a little. “Mushy, huh? I think you’re just too scared to admit you’re soft.”

Mingyu blinked at you in mock disbelief, though the humor was evident in his eyes. “Soft?” He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “If anything, I’m just... real about how I feel.”

You raised a challenging eyebrow, a playful glint in your eyes. “Oh, so you feel like you need to ‘ground’ me now?” you teased, leaning against the counter next to him, nudging your shoulder against his lightly. “Making me your ‘everything’s worth it’?”

For a moment, Mingyu’s expression softened, and you caught the slightest shift in his eyes, a vulnerability there that he rarely let anyone see. But before you could say anything more, he closed the space between you, his hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek. His lips found yours in a kiss—warm, slow, and full of everything unspoken. You melted into it, a rush of affection flooding you.

When he finally pulled back, his hand still resting on your cheek, he grinned, a faint blush coloring his face. “Yeah. But I’m not apologizing for it.” His voice was playful, but his eyes were sincere. Then, with a wink, he turned toward the stove, reaching for a pan. “Now, how about you stay for dinner? I’ll make you my specialty.”

You smirked, crossing your arms as you leaned a little closer to him, feeling the heat of his body as he moved. “Is that how you win me over? With food?”

Mingyu grinned, shrugging nonchalantly as he started to prepare your meal. “Among other things,” he said, winking at you as he added a little more heat to the pan. “But mostly food.”

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[boypied]

pairings: roommate!henry cavill x male reader

request: Roommate Henry Cavill finds you after you tried some self bondage and couldn't free yourself.

warnings: SMUT ! , bdsm, swearing, anal sex, spit, degrading.

MDNI + FDNI !

A couple of weeks ago, while you were browsing through pornhub, you came across a self bondage video, and it really peaked your curiosity. You went onto amazon and brought a bondage pack filled with gag balls, restraints, leather whips, and even butt plugs.

You waited patiently for a couple of weeks, waiting for the package to arrive, and when it finally did, you were more ready than ever. You unboxed it, pulling out the wrapped whips and chains.

You lube up a vibrating buttplug, gently pushing it inside of you. It softly ripples inside of you, your body shaking with pleasure.

You attached the hooks to the ceiling and wrapped the end of the restraints around them. You tighten the restraint around your first wrist and just about managed to stretch yourself to reach the second restraint.

Your cock hardens in your jockstrap feeling the tightness against your wrists, the lack of movement and the vibrations inside you.

You squirm your body around, enjoying the pleasure that courses through your body until you hear your front door open. "Hey! I'm back from work. " Henry's voice echoes down the hall towards your room.

Panic set in when you realised you couldn't get out the restraint. "Who the fuck tries self-bondage" I mumble out realising how stupid I am.

"Where are you?" Henry calls out. Normally, you greet him when he gets home like you are an old married couple. Henry slowly makes his way down the hallway and stands outside your bedroom door.

"Hey, you in there?" Henry says softly, knocking on the door. "Make yourself decent, I'm coming in," Henry says with a chuckle, which slowly fades into a face of shock when he sees you.

You close your eyes to try and hide from the embarrassment. "Holy shit." Henry mumbles out, walking further into the room, admiring your body. "Can you untie me?" You ask trying to get out of this situation, "no." Henry says in a breathy tone.

Your eyes widen with confusion before your sight slowly gets darkened. Henry covers your eyes with a blindfold submerging you into darkness, you feel Henry's hot breathe against your neck.

Henry picks up the tassel whip, gently stroking it up your body before whipping it against your back, you groan out in slight pain but mostly pleasure "fuck!".

The vibrations from your ass and the whips against your body causes your cock to become rock hard, whilst it coats your jockstrap in pre-cum. "You're such a fucking slut. Look at you." Henry spits out, whipping at your body again. "P-Please fuck me!" You gasp out.

"I dont take orders from sluts plus I don't want to hear a fucking fag speak, so..." Henry says with a smirk plastered on his face as he places a gag-ball in your mouth tying it at the back on your head, he spanks your ass casting you to whimper out.

Henry grips your hips, pulling your body against him whispering in your ear "how fucking stupid do you need to be to get stuck like this?" Henry spits out through gritted teeth. You whimper out, feeling his hands grip your hips.

Henry whips against your ass until it's burning red, tears streaming down your face coming out from under the mask from the over-stimulation. "Do you want Daddy's cock, fag?" He whispers to you, your head nods quickly. Practically begging for it.

He pulls the vibrating buttplug out of your hole. He watches it pulsate, begging to be filled, Henry strips his clothes off, throwing them all over the floor.

He rubs his tip against your pulsating hole, rubbing his pre-cum over it. Your arms are beginning to ache, thrusting it deep inside you. You gasp, and your eyes roll back under the mask, Henry takes off the gag-ball, your mouth gaped open.

"F-Fuck! Henry" you shout out, whimpering at the feeling of Henry's cock rubbing against your walls. "Such a fuckin' fag" Henry says through gritted teeth, slapping your ass as he pounds into you.

"Look at how sloppy you are, slut!" Henry says, laughing out. Spit ran out of your mouth, eyes rolled back and dried tears on your face. You had become completely cock-obsessed with Henry, "M-My daddy!"

"Yeah, I'm your daddy. Fag!" Henry smirks, thrusting up into you, he rips your jockstrap releasing your hard cock from it fabric cage. As he thrusts into you his hand travels round to the front of your body, jerking your cock off.

"Cum for your daddy!" Henry whispers in your ear, commanding you to cum for him. You obey his commands, unleashing your load, shooting ropes of cum, all of them hitting the floor.

Henry lifts up your legs, fucking up into you. The over-stimulation of your hole causes your brain to become mush, the feeling of him fucking up into your g-spot before shooting his buckets of cum into your boy-pussy.

"Fuck! Your boy-pussy is milking me dry!" Henry gasps out, your cock tightening around his cock and he thrust into you.

Henry rests his head against your back before sliding his cock out of you. He unties your restraints, your body becoming limp from exhaustion. Henry swoops up your body into his muscular arms and carries you to him bed.

taglist - @starboye @mailmango @dcriddler

[saltwaterburns]

Hi, hi can you please do SFW and NSFW ALPHABET for Wolverine/Logan???💕💕💕👹

NSFW alphabet for LOGAN HOWLETT/WOLVERINE

This contains 18+ content, read at your own risk

SFW alphabet (coming soon)

a/n: My take on what kind of a freak logan is, winkwink

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

He comes inside you with a deep groan (could absolutely be mistaken for a growl) and I feel like what happens next depends on his mood. Sex with him is never just sweet and sensual, most of the time it's a primal fuck, so if it was angry/posessive or anything like that, he'd stay inside you until he's soft like butter again (I don't think he ever actually gets soft, though... this man has stamina), plugging you full of his cum so you won't waste a drop. He'll wrap his hands around you, pull you to his bare and so, so warm chest and hold you until you fall asleep. If it was a bit sweeter then he'd pull out, give you a forehead kiss and get a nice fluffy towel from the bathroom, wiping your trembling thighs clean. If he remembers he'll clean himself off too but i feel like he'll sometimes forget

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

He likes your hands. They're cute, they fit into his, they pull at his hair as he goes down on you, they play with his cock, they play with your clit, they claw at the sheets, they cover your mouth so you won't wake the whole building with your sounds, you get the gist. He really does like them for other stuff too - he likes how gentle they are with him.

As for himself, I'm having a bit of trouble. Maybe his arms? Dick? Jesus, this is a hard one. His arms cause they carry you and all the little things you buy but they can also protect you. (He has a love hate relationship with his claws, i shall dive into that someday but not now). His dick because he absolutely loves making you cock and pleasure drunk. What do you think?

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves cumming on your tits and then seeing you scoop it up and feed it to yourself, cheeks hollowed like they were around his cock 10 minutes ago. Sometimes after a particularly intense session he just stares at your glistening heat and the way you're clenching and unclenching, his seed dripping out and he feels himself getting hard, again

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I don't think this man has dirty secrets, per se. His sex life to me at least is an open book. Because he's been around for a long time, he's probably experienced and experimented a lot. Maybe that he's into anal play? Because he so is.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

I think he might be one of the most experienced men in the world. He has fucked his fair share of women over the years so he absolutely knows what he's doing and how to do it, he's an expert in pleasuring a woman. If you've been together for a while he will memorise your body like the palm of his hand

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy 100%. He's so gripping your hips to the point that his handprints are almost permanently bruised onto your skin. He also loves spreading your ass cheeks and dipping his thumb into your other hole just to tease and watch you squirm (both from embarrassment and pleasure)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's a grumpy, troubled old man, so sex will be intense. He'll only chuckle/grin/laugh just to mock you, and when you've done a particularly good job then he'll offer you a rare smile

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is so hairy but in a sexy way. Definitely not clean shaven down there, but trimmed. Very prominent happy trail, hairy pecs, hairy arms

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He isn't a person who connects well with his own feelings so there won't be any of that mumbo jumbo as he's balls deep inside you, but he will press occasional kisses onto your skin before, during and after

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As long as he's got you I don't think he really masturbates. The most I can see him doing is jacking off while you're on your knees so he can cum on your tits

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

From the top of my head - daddy kink, size kink, dirty talk, breeding kink, breath play, brat taming, (spit play), spanking !!!!

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Not necessarily at home, but on a bed/sofa/etc. (so you're comfy as he destroys your insides). In private because you're his and his only, no one needs to see you in compromising positions

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You, honestly. You being a brat, you begging, you looking nice, you being domestic, you being kind, just you

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

He doesn't really have turn offs, but an immediate no is hurting you with his claws. As much as you might beg him to indulge in knife (claw) play, the most he'll do is rip your clothes off with them. He is so, so scared of hurting you and seeing genuine fear in your eyes because you're too kind, too sweet for him anyway

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes both. He loves eating pussy, he's a pussy eating champ, he'll pull you to sit on his face, burning your inner thighs with his scratchy beard but he'll also never say no to you gagging and slobbering all over his massive cock (mr. wolverine, the size kink is calling)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast. And. Rough. Primal. Carnal. Animalistic. Growling, biting, scratching.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

No. Logan wants to take his time with you, really fuck you and claim you, bruise and mark you. It's either all out or nothing with him

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As I mentioned before, he's experimented a lot during his lifetime, but if you want to try something new he'll most likely say yes (as long as it doesn't involve you hurting)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He might be old and salt & peppery and grumpy but oh my god can he fuck. 5 rounds straight at least, then maybe a cigar and then another 3. He usually comes right after you because the way your pussy clenches around his dick during your orgasm is enough to send any man jizzing their pants

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

This doesn't really go under toys but he might indulge in letting you tie his hands up to the bed frame with a silk tie but you know as well as i do that when things get serious, he won't even have to move a muscle to "break" free. As for toys like vibrators, wands and etc. he doesn't really know about them or care for them

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Very. Teasing and edging you is his favourite hobby. Riling you up, teasing your cute little clit with his thick fingers or his mouth just to pull away right as you're about to reach the peak gives him serotonin

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Fuck meeeeeee mister Wolverine. He's not that loud but definitely will give you a few sounds, he loves to dirty talk (read as: growl) but mostly he's just grunting and chuckling at you

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I thought long and hard about this, so, here you go! He's lowkey into Wade, so he isn't particularly against having a threesome. If he's single, then he wouldn't exactly mind having a threesome with Wade and Wades girl, showing Wade how to properly pleasure a woman. If he finds himself achingly hard as you're jacking Wafe off, it's totally not because he's imagining himself doing that, absolutely not you freak !!!!

If Wade is the single one then he'd be slightly more reluctant but you will find yourself between the two men with Wades cock ramming into your pussy and Logans cock stretching your ass

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

He's fucking packing. Long && thick. I don't really know penis sizes i'm so sorry so imagine like a borderline massive dick. Rock hard abs, of course. Deliciously hairy pecs, wide shoulders, big. Goddamn. Arms. Biteable thighs

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Sex to him is an outlet, a massive one at that, so i'd say his sex drive is quite high. It isn't the answer to everything, though. He has good days and bad days, bad days mostly meaning that he's in a vicious mood and wants to punch rather than fuck

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If we're being a bit humorous then he'll fuck you long and hard, clean you up, give you a kiss, smoke a ciggy and start snoring. But he's not sleeping!!!! He's resting his eyes, dummy. If we're being serious then because he's a mutant of immense power and regenerative abilities then realistically he wouldn't be tired out. If you can stay up for that long then he'll get you some water and just hold you, enjoying the moment of peace

- Thank you so much for reading! As always, this is just how I imagine him. I've been influenced by countless of works here on Tumblr and countless of super steamy tiktok edits, so you're absolutely entitled to your own ideas ❤️

[3fingersofscotch]

Like a Party Favor

Like a Party Favor

Pairing: M/M/M/M/F Sylus x Zayne x Rafayel x Xavier x Afab Reader

‧₊˚✩彡Summary: In what scenario does MC get passed around like a party favor? This one!

‧₊˚✩彡WARNINGS: 18+ mdni!! GANGBANG, word porn with just enough plot to make your brain happy, double penetration, vaginal and anal sex, rough face fucking, rough cunniligus, creampies, tons of cum, like... tons, reverse harem, butt plugs, multiple partners, multiple positions, actual funny parts, gratuitous self pleasing smut.

‧₊˚✩彡Author's note: I started writing this back in August, so obviously some new cards have come out to spoil a couple of things. There is one chapter where Zayne is enjoying a martini. We know know he doesn't drink. Give me a break. This is a WIP. I'm trying to figure out how to fit Caleb in there somewhere.

‧₊˚✩彡Ao3- 3fingers_of_scotch Chapter 2

You must ask for permission to repost on other platforms.

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated anywhere.

You can’t hide your innermost desires from a man with an aether core in his eye. And this man in particular makes direct, sinister, enrapturing, infuriating eye contact with you as he plunders your body.

Sylus is a far departure from the men you are used to. You shudder at the thought. You’ve struggled with this for a while now. Grandma would be so ashamed if she were still around to find out.

You’ve sampled 4 men in as many weeks. 4 beautiful men with giant hearts and eyes that look at you like you hung the very stars in the sky. And while you let them ravage your body and lose yourself in their arms, in that brief searing moment, love seems so pure and so wholesome.

Then you come down from your high and that feeling is gone—replaced with the guilt of knowing you are nothing but a common, back stabbing whore who can’t pick one good man to give your heart to. You tell yourself that your love is true, that you aren’t a bad person. You don’t believe that lie for a second.

You know Sylus can hear the voice calling from the depths of your mind on occasion. He has heard your heart cry at some point-

Xavier

Rafayel

Zayne

And though he pretends he didn’t hear and that he doesn’t know, you can’t help but notice that those are the sessions that he fucks you the hardest. Those are the days that your orgasm rips through your chest because he fucks you like he paid top dollar to use your body like some common street walker.

‘This has to be grief,’ you tell yourself as you try to distract yourself from the mental and physical pain of losing your family in that explosion.

But if that were the case, grief is still not an excuse for being a bad woman.

Fuck me

He stares at you intently after you dismount the back of his bike and remove the helmet. You were painfully wet. Sylus had teased you all night when bidding became boring and he was certain no one was looking. You could tell he was wound up and ready to pop, especially since he’d taken the hand you had wrapped around his waist and placed it over his half hard erection when you were nearing his compound.

The wet spot you left on his bike was embarrassing. All of this was embarrassing. It is shameful how much you need him. It was disgraceful what your innermost desires confessed to him in the throes of passion.

You wonder why he hasn’t walked away. He continues to comply like your desires aren’t insane. He looks thrilled as he fulfills all of your darkest needs. He hasn’t said no yet. It appears he is also willing to comply tonight.

Fuck me

“In due time, kitten.” His voice is like warm honey in your ear and you tremble as his fingers tease under your skirt and slip into your panties. Sylus pulls your hips back into his clothed erection and you grind against his length, whimpering your want as the pads of his fingertips dig deeper to firmly tease your clit.

 You know you aren’t alone in the compound. Luke and Kieran are lurking somewhere, but you let Sylus rip open your blouse, buttons flying across the living room. His right hand is still playing with your pussy and you know your skirt has ridden all the way up, and the left hand pushed your bra up and over to expose your breasts so he could play with your nipple.

“Luke and Kieran--“ you begin.

“Will stay out of sight if they know what is good for them,” Sylus murmurs in your ear, making you shiver. His fingers sink in past the lips cloaking your entrance, making awkward squelching noises with each pump.

“Look down,” he orders. You comply and see him withdraw his fingers that are glistening with clear, sticky juices. He lifts his fingers to your lips. “Clean the mess you made, kitten.”

He normally likes some sort of resistance. Resisting has turned him on thoroughly in the past, but tonight, you just want to be fucked so bad and this back and forth is making you frustratingly hot.

You lap at his finger just like the stray kitten he imagines that you are and you hear him hiss with approval in your ear.

“Sweetie, when did you become so obedient?” the timber of his voice purrs.

“I won’t stay this way for long if you don’t bend me over soon!” Your frustration amuses him.

His evol envelops your body and lifts you off the ground to bring you upstairs and you feel your own juices tickle as they drip down your thighs uncomfortably.

His compound is too large. By the time you reach his bedroom, you are crying from need and Sylus hates seeing you cry.

“Shh, shhh,” he cooes as he unbuttons his shirt. His evol places you gently on the edge of the bed and you become increasingly frustrated as you try and tug his belt off. It won’t comply.

Sylus grabs your hand and lifts it to place a gentle kiss on the inside of your wrist as his other hand slides a notch on his belt buckle. It releases quickly and you unbutton and unzip his pants, feeling triumphant as the head of his big beautiful cock springs forward from his underwear. The front of his boxer briefs are nearly as wet as you are, and you lean forward to taste the tip of his cock.

It’s salty and bitter and oh so rewarding, especially as he hums his approval, fingers threading into your hair. You desire to be used. To be punished for being such a loose, despicable woman.

Fuck my face

And he does with hands firmly wound in your hair, he holds you in place as he thrusts. You can feel the head of his cock impact the back of your throat and that just won’t do. He clucks with disapproval, before repositioning you so that your throat lines up straight with is thrusts. You’ve practiced this before. Several times in fact, he has read your desires and given you exactly what you are too afraid to say aloud.

Today, the head of his cock enters the column of your throat, stretching out your esophagus. You clutch at his muscular thighs as you feel tears sting your eyes. He thrusts a few times, before abruptly withdrawing and throwing you back on the bed.

“I’m not ready to cum yet,” He growls and his right eye glows red. Your bra and panties are ripped off, but he leaves your skirt bunched up around your waist. 

Punish me

“How?” He asks as he kicks off his pants. You aren’t quite sure you even know yourself. But he always come up with an answer and you find yourself on your hands and knees in front of him. He sinks two fingers deep past the heat of your thighs and without warning, roughly finger fucks you, causing you to cry out blissfully.

This felt more like a reward than punishment and you want to be mad, but he is already making you cum and it catches both of you by surprise as you cry out and your inner walls clamp down around his fingers.

“Sylus! Ooh, Sylus!” He doesn’t need you to announce your orgasm because it won’t stop him. His fingers continue their plunder as his other hand caresses the smoothness of your ass cheek. You are screaming at this point, but the firm grasp he has of your ass is not lost on you. He squeezes roughly and as your second orgasm ripples through your body, his hand withdraws from your ass cheek and you are given a firm, stinging smack.

He’s never spanked you before, so he waits for you to protest before he dares to try again.

You love it. It only makes your orgasm more powerful and your cries only reflect pleasure.

“Hmm, this is interesting. Does the bad kitten need another spanking?” he asks. You can hear the amusement in his voice and although it annoys you, you also feel a wave of relief at the lack of disgust you were worried he’d feel.

You nod wordlessly in response and feel the crack as his palm smacks your ass with more force.

“Ooh!” You cry. Words are useless at this point and you quiver as you feel the bed dip behind you as Sylus climbs up, lining his cock with the entrance of your core and sinks in, filling you deeper than his fingers did. You moan as he gives you all of him and sighs your name under his breath.

He enjoys the feeling of your moist heat swallowing him for a moment before he moves, plunging violently deep within you.

Deeper and deeper and deeper. He’d crawl into you if he could, you were sure of it. The others could be too gentle when all you wanted was to be used. An endless stream of moans, curses and his name tumbles from your lips.

Punish me

Oh God, why is he reading you again right now? You were going to start thinking of the foulest, dirtiest things soon.

Sylus’ hand smacks your ass once more and you practically buck crying out sharply. That one was sure to leave a red welt. You want that and more and his cock feels so good and you feel so naughty.

“Slut.” Yes, you are his little slut. Your body was made to be wrapped around his, you are certain of it. His hand slaps your other ass cheek and the sting lingers.

“Oh, God,” you utter as you feel him reach forward and wind his fingers in your hair, using it as a handle as he continues to fuck you from behind. You are so close to cumming and the hair pulling nearly tips you over the edge.

“Does my little slut want me to cum in her tight pussy again?” Oh god, he was close too?

You love cum. You love being filled by cum. You love feeling a cock throb inside you as it releases rope after rope of cum.

Sylus never bothered to put on a condom. As a matter of fact, he never bothered to ask you if you were on birth control. You don’t think he really even cares. But every time he cums in you, he asks you for permission and its hot knowing that your pussy is good enough for his release.

Cum in my ass.

“Fuck!” Sylus bucks like he can’t believe what he just heard and you feel him coming completely undone, trembling and shaking as his cock throbs in you. He grips your hips, holding you flush against him, burying himself as far as possible and you are certain this is the longest he’s ever cum as you feel his body twitch and jerk against you.

“That was so fucking hot,” He murmurs as he rolls you onto your back. He kisses you the same as he always does when you are done. Deep, like he wants to say something that words can never convey. He leaves you, digging around a drawer in his room somewhere, but you can’t see because you are still trying to catch your breath. Despite not finishing, you are happy, ready to clean up and let sleep take you.

He returns, a lecherous grin you’ve never seen plastered on his face with a tube and a towel in his hand.

“Is that really where you want me to put it, kitten?”

Fuck, suddenly you remember that your inner most desire told him something you weren’t ready to reveal.

Sylus puts that nonsense to bed, silencing the protest you are about to utter with his lips. You feel the growing need as hope blooms in your chest. His lips taste the column of your neck and you realize that he is rock hard as his still wet erection rubs against your navel.

You want to touch him everywhere and he lets you as he continues to taste your chest. Your fingers grasp at his hair when you feel a lubed finger circle your asshole. Your cheeks burn bright red as he meets your gaze.

“Princess, you have to tell me. Is this what you want?” His voice is dripping with desire you didn’t know he’d hidden from you.

You can’t trust your voice, so you shyly nod and you feel his finger push in. You wince at the discomfort and he studies your face, pressing soft kisses to your temple to distract you and he pumps slowly, in and out until you nod that he can go faster. Whatever pain from initial entry subsided after a moment and you were ready for another.

You still can’t talk, so you nod once more and Sylus understands, grabbing the tube of lube and diligently applying more to his fingers before entering.

You can feel how hungry he is as his lips swallow yours. You try to match his enthusiasm, but his fingers scissoring and stretching you out distract you. He is diligent and gentle until he is not, needily nibbling at your ear and hungrily squeezing your body against his.

“Fuck, kitten, I need to be inside you so bad,” Sylus rocks his hips, grinding his erection against you. You can feel his leaking need.

“I’m ready,” you tell him. Honestly you aren’t sure, but you’ve never heard his voice drip with this much desperation. He withdraws his fingers and applies a generous amount of lube to his cock before rolling you onto your stomach.

“I’m sorry sweetie. This will probably hurt,” He whispers as he enters.

Despite Sylus’ diligent prep, it is searing. You feel the head of his cock ‘pop’ past the ring of your entrance and the pain is astounding. You buck and cry out as Sylus pins you down.

“Fuck!” Tears roll down your cheek and onto the mattress beneath you. “Fuck, Sylus!” You don’t think you can take it. His cock is so very huge and you are so very small.

“Shh,” he soothes and you hate him for it. “It will only hurt for a little while. Trust me.”

Sylus doesn’t press further and you focus on your breathing. It still hurts, but you think you can handle more.

“More,” you tell him and he obliges, sinking further into you as you continue to take deep breaths. It still hurts, but not as much as it did initially and you realize he is fully seated. He doesn’t move and you continue to focus on your breathing.

“Okay, Sylus. I’m okay.” Your voice is shaky and you are sure it betrayed you, but Sylus takes you at your word and gentle thrusts in slow shallow motions that are searing. You bite your lip, enduring the pain when you notice that suddenly, it doesn't hurt. As a matter of fact, it is starting to feel good.

It’s not long before your tepid breath becomes pleasurable moans and you feel Sylus huff in amusement against your shoulder.

“You like it, kitten?”

“Mmhmm, oh Sylus! Yes!” And that was all he needed to rear back and pound into your tiny body. Every bone and muscle in your body reverberates with each clap of his hips against your ass as you feel yourself sinking further and further into the mattress beneath you. You are swimming in a pool of sweat and your own desires and Sylus is unrelenting, encouraged by your screams of bliss.

“Fuck, your little asshole is so tight,” Sylus mutters and you can tell he is fighting a losing battle from the pitch of his voice. You can’t see him, but you imagine he is beautiful as he pounds you with abandon, glistening with the sweat you can smell all around you. His hand snakes its way under your torso and between your legs, teasing your clit deliciously.

“Sylus, mmm! Oh! Sylus, I’m gonna-“

“Me too," the way his moaning becomes more fevered as his breath becomes shallow confirms it.

"Cum for me, kitten!” You vision goes white hot. You are throbbing from multiple places. Sylus grunts are drowned out by your cries of pleasure and you feel him filling you up so nicely.

Sylus chuckles when he hears you whimper as he pulls out and pulls you into his arms. He places gentle kisses on your temple, like he wasn’t just balls deep in your asshole seconds ago.

“Thank you,” he whispers, gently running his fingers through your hair.

“For what?” You know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

“Your first time. It’s a big deal. Thank you for choosing me.” Sylus picks you up with his Evol and takes you to his shower. His aftercare is like a routine at this point and doesn’t surprise you.

What does surprise you though is the hour under steaming hot jets where he persistently showers your body in doting kisses until you feel the temperature drop and know that the hot water is about to run out.

You feel guilty and undeserving once more as he pulls you into his chest and rapidly falls asleep. He always does when you are around, despite your opposite sleep schedules. But your body is exhausted and sleep claims you as you ponder what to do to get out of your predicament without hurting four men you care about deeply.

The only thing there to wake you in the morning was the glimmer of sun peeking through the dark curtains in Sylus’ room. You plug in the cellphone that you realize you never charged the previous night and head down to the kitchen to see if Sylus’ chef can whip something up for you. It isn’t until you are completely down the stairs that you realize that Sylus is talking to the three people you’ve been avoiding since you went into hiding at the N109 zone.

You hear Zayne, Rafayel and Xavier call out after you as you turn and run as fast as you can out the front door.

Chapters 2, 3, 4, and 5 are already uploaded on my Ao3.

You must ask for permission to repost on other platforms.

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated anywhere.

[impala-dreamer]

A Rod & A Ryder

A Supernaturally Silly Story

~ When Dean decides to give Y/N a sexy DIY gift, he finds himself in a rather tight predicament ~

Dean Winchester x Reader, Castiel 

3,306 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Talk of Sex Toys and Self Love, Tiny Fleck of Jealous!Dean, Mishaps, Crack

For @jacklesversebingo “Free Square”

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Dean hung back while Y/N was at the counter. She was more than capable of interviewing the salesperson by herself, and besides, he had other things to investigate. Like, for instance, the extremely large red, white, and blue dildo sitting on the shelf by the window.

He blinked a few times at the toy, marveling at the size and wondering how a human being could open any hole, mouth included, wide enough to insert such a tree trunk of a phallus. Deciding it was simply a gag gift, and laughing at the word ‘gag’ even as he thought it, Dean moved on, trying not to become too enthralled by the offerings around the sex shop.

He’d been in porn shops before, but not in a long while, and they were certainly fancier than he remembered. Slightly more adventurous too.

Whips in various sizes and materials lined the wall to his right; plush handcuffs and spacer bars were displayed to his left. A section seemingly devoted to Fifty Shades held his attention for a while. More than a few things raised an eyebrow and he couldn’t help but look over at Y/N, wondering if she’d ever allow such things into their bedroom. It wasn’t like he longed to fix that cute powder-pink collar on her throat and lead her around on a leash, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before. Just like he hadn’t thought about her locking little Dean up in one of those tiny metal cages and teasing him until he-

“See somethin’ you like?”

Her question made him jump and Dean turned with pink cheeks towards his girlfriend.

Y/N was holding back a laugh, trying not to embarrass him and blow their cover. Federal Agents weren’t known to giggle like twelve year olds at vibrators and butt plugs, even the ones with fluffy tails on the ends.

One such tail drew Y/N’s attention and she picked the sample up from the clear display shelf and wiggled it in his face, making him cringe and back up a step.

“Gross,” he laughed, swatting away the faux fox fur. “Stop that.”

Y/N set the toy back in its spot and bit her lip. “Why, Agent Zappa, I never pegged you for a prude.”

Dean stood up straight and adjusted his tie. “First of all, you’ve never pegged me at all, and-”

A twinkle sparkled in her eye. “I could, ya know-”

He sucked in a quick breath and ignored the offer. “Secondly…” He cleared his throat. “I’m not a prude, I’m just a little… There’s a lot of stuff here that… I mean- come on.” He waved at a line of latex cocks behind her and Y/N spun around, coming face to face with a rather realistic looking, fully erect penis.

“Oh my…”

Dean hummed. “Exactly.”

Curious, Y/N picked up the corresponding box and scanned the information on the back. “Huh.”

“What?”

Holding up the box, she read from the description: “This lifelike replica is molded directly from one of the hottest porn stars of the new millennium. Sterling Rod’s eleven inch cock is crafted with incredibly lifelike, innovative material that replicates the texture and firmness of the real thing.”

Dean swallowed hard, looking up at the longer-than-life penis and then sadly down at his crotch. “Eleven inches?”

Y/N hummed a sexy little note and carried on. “The dynamic features of this beautiful dildo include realistically jiggling balls that enhance the authenticity of the experience…”

“OK, we don’t have to keep reading that…” Something about fake jiggling balls made him uncomfortable.

“The suction cup bottom gives you a hands free option to-”

“Suction cup?” Green eyes glazed over as a quick fantasy scene played in his head. Y/N, alone in the Bunker, bouncing on Sterling Rod’s rod suction cupped to the top of the table in the War Room, her juicy bottom illuminated by the glowing map. His slacks shrank a bit.

“The impressive eleven inch length…” Y/N let out an impressed breath and squirmed, adjusting her weight from one foot to the other.

He frowned at the measurement and her apparent interest. She always said he was the perfect size for her and yet-

“...Delving deeper than any other to pleasure you in ways no man can.”

“OK!” Jerking the box away, Dean put an end to his torture. “OK. I get it.”

Y/N pursed her lips and squinted at him. “Jealous?”

“Of a toy?” He leaned back, offended. “No.”

“It’s not just a toy,” she teased. “It’s Sterling Rod’s cock.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s not his actual cock. That’s just for advertising.”

“No, no. It’s really him.” Y/N picked up the box and pointed out the print she’d just read aloud. “Molded directly from-”

“Please don’t read it again.”

Shrugging, she returned the box. “They do that now, ya know,” she laughed. “For the girls too.”

Dean’s jealousy faded and his interest perked up. “What now?”

“Mhm.” Y/N spun on her heel and crooked a finger at him.

Dean followed without hesitation as Y/N led him to the other side of the store.

The multicolored dildos and clit-sucking vibrators gave way to pocket masturbators and lube, anal beads, and a set of manly blank nipple clamps that made Dean’s pulse quicken just a bit.

Y/N paused beside a display of what, from far away, appeared to be blooming roses. “See? Custom pussies.”

A joke tickled his throat. “Say that again?”

“Custom. Pussies.” She popped the P and Dean choked back a laugh. “See? This one is Angel Ryder’s.”

“Angel Ryder?” Dean smirked. “Good name…”

“You know her.”

Dean’s brows furrowed in thought.

“You know, the redhead in the trench coat from that one we watched on Christmas…”

The tip of his tongue pressed against his front teeth as he scanned his memory.

Y/N sighed. “With the tattoo… on her…”

Dean lit up. “Oh! Yeah. OK… I remember her.” He blinked and saw her in his head: big, fake tits bouncing on a muscular Santa’s lap. His lips puckered into a horny grin.

“Yeah. Her.” Y/N picked up the box beneath the flourishing rubber vagina and held it out to him. “Molded from her actual sausage wallet.”

Dean scanned the box and nodded in approval. “So they just like… stick some goo up there and-”

“Ew. No.”

“No?”

Y/N paused for a moment and pondered. “Actually, I have no idea how they do it, but I’m sure they don’t just tip her upside down and pour silicone in there.”

Dean smirked.

Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes. When she righted them, they were stuck on the ridiculously long length of Sterling’s erect silicone dick and she hummed in a way Dean didn’t care for.

He cleared his throat. “You don’t have any… ya know…”

It was endearing that he couldn’t even ask. They’d fucked in the back of his car, on the hood of his car, in random bars, once in the woods next to a flaming vampire nest, and even in the Franklin Mills County Morgue while sneaking in late at night for evidence. But the fact that he couldn’t ask her right out if she had a box of sex toys tucked away somewhere was too adorable to not tease him for.

“Dean, are you asking me if I have a dildo?”

He swallowed hard and tugged at the knot of his navy tie, loosening it a tiny bit. “Well, yeah.”

She refused to answer verbally but gave him a very affirmative shrug.

His jaw dropped. “In our bedroom?” He lowered his voice, comically leaning in so the saleswoman of a sex shop couldn’t hear them discussing sex stuff. “You have a fake dick in our bedroom when you’ve got a… pretty impressive human specimen right next to you whenever you want?”

His eyes were wide with worry and Y/N took pity. She lay her hand warmly on his arm.

“Baby, I don’t use it… all the time. It’s just there for like… .emergencies.”

“Emergencies?”

“You know, if you’re out or-”

He jerked upright. “So when I’m out getting pizza, you’re riding plastic probes?”

Her laugh was unstoppable but strangled. “No. Like, if you’re away for a while. I miss you, ya know.”

He softened a bit at that.

“And, excuse, me, are you saying you don’t masturbate anymore?”

“Uh…” Green eyes flitted about, looking for a safe place to land.

“It’s OK if you do.”

Dean shrugged just as she had. “A man has… needs, Y/N/N.”

“You’re cute.” Giving up on the conversation lest things get too intense, Y/N pushed up on her toes and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “But can we go? The scent of edible lube is making me sick.”

She turned away before he could answer and Dean gave Angel Ryder’s plump petals an intrigued look. Saying a farewell, he turned to the door, jogging a few quick steps to catch up.

“Hey! I thought you liked wild cherry…”

~

Time wore on and the memory of their explicit sex shop conversation had mostly faded into the Arizona horizon. Y/N hadn’t brought up their chat again after they’d banged it out in the hotel room that night, and she’d even stopped teasing him about how she would introduce him to the little purple pole hidden in her underwear drawer.

Dean, however, couldn’t get the idea of Y/N playing with some other dude’s joystick, even if it was made of plastic, out of his head. If she was fucking some dick, he wanted it to be his. If some asshole was plunging her depths, he wanted to be that asshole. Cowgirl Y/N should only be riding one horse and his lap was the saddle.

After two weeks of unwarranted jealous thoughts and sulking around, Dean had an idea.

One quick Google search later, Dean had a plan.

After four days of waiting for the slow-as-hell local post office to get its act together, Dean was ready to go.

That is, once he got Y/N to go.

Thankfully, Sam had found a case a few hours away and Dean convinced Y/N to take the drive, claiming he was feeling under the weather. He got an extra kiss on the forehead for that, and waved goodbye as headlights faded out of sight.

Dean laid out the materials on his bed. A bag of powder, a plastic tube, a tongue depressor, and a mug of water. The instructions said the water had to be 90 degrees exactly, and he waited until the water was cool enough to touch but still warm. If he was sticking his dick in it, he didn’t want to burn the skin off.

Working quickly, he mixed the powder and water, dumped it rather messily into the tube, and grabbed his dick.

“Come on, Dean. This is for Y/N.”

He closed his eyes and thought about her using his gift; naked and spread wide on the hood of the Impala, his hot pink clone pounding her sweet pussy. He jerked himself a few times, wanting to make sure he was as big as possible, and then stuck it in the goo. A bit of casting spilled over the top but he could clean it up later.

It was warm and wet. Somewhat squishy, and not altogether unpleasant. Humming happily, Dean leaned back against the wall and held himself in the tube, still fantasizing about its future.

Y/N licking it like a lollipop in front of a mirror; spit dripping down her chin…

Y/N on all fours, fucking herself on the toy, moaning his name…

Y/N nudged the dildo gently against his tight ass…

Startled but not disgusted by his subconscious desire, Dean gave himself a little shake to clear his head, and made a note to bring it up with Y/N at some point.

He checked his watch and more than five minutes had passed which was three more than the two stated in the instructions.

“Well, a little more never hurt anyone.”

Except, it did.

Dean carefully pulled on the tube of hardened casting and nothing happened.

He tried again, a little less carefully, and it moved not even an inch.

“Shit.”

Again.

“Fuck.”

He was stuck. More specifically, his now soft, over-sensitive penis was stuck in a tight tube of hardened plaster-like junk.

He tried to fit a finger into the mess, but it was too tight, sealed against his skin.

He thought for a moment about getting a knife from the kitchen and cutting his way out, but it was a very short thought that ended with him terrified to even move lest he cut his precious instrument.

If he called 911, he’d have to explain some things and they might also use something sharp. Calling Y/N would be even worse than being stuck, and he’d rather cut his dick completely off than tell Sam what he was up to.

That left only one option.

Sitting on the side of the bed, Dean grabbed a pillow and held it gingerly over his issue. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Cas? Kinda need your help, buddy.”

He waited a second and then peaked his right eye open, finding the room just as empty as before.

Gritting his teeth, he tried again.

“Cas! Help!”

A whoosh of air and the flap of wings opened Dean’s eyes and he found his best friend standing a foot away.

“Dean. What’s wrong?”

The worry in Castiel’s voice was strong and Dean felt somewhat bad for making him rush over. But then again, his dick was encased in stone.

“Are you hurt?”

Dean clicked his tongue, debating the truthful answer. “Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Cas’s head tilted dramatically to the east. “What’s going on?”

Begrudgingly, Dean removed the pillow from his lap and displayed his nakedness shoved into a long plastic tube.

Blue eyes squinted at the apparatus. ”Dean, what are you doing?”

“It’s a gift,” Dean confessed.

Confusion twisted the angel’s face. “For who?”

“Y/N!”

Castiel nodded in understanding. “Ah. Yes.”

To investigate, Cas bent at the waist and let his gaze zoom in on Dean’s crotchal region. Blood rushed from Dean’s face to dick and back up again. He was embarrassed and scared but it was still kind of hot.

Castiel poked at the tube with a gentle finger and Dean quickly swatted him away.

“What exactly have you done to yourself?”

“It’s a kit to…” Dean’s ease of speech was temporarily stunted. “I’m…” He looked away in an attempt to hide. “I’m making a clone of… well, me.” He cleared his throat. “And I got stuck.”

Cas stood up and nodded, but he still had questions.

“Why do you think Y/N would like something like this?”

“Well, it makes a… toy. A sex toy. For her. It’s a dildo, OK? Ya know, for when I’m away… or not in the mood.”

Another squint, another head tilt.

Dean huffed. “Yeah, OK, I’m always in the mood. But, I don’t know, I thought it would be a nice thing to do. A sexy gift. Thought it would be kinda hot.”

“And is it?”

Dean sighed. “Not currently!”

Sensing the urgency, Castiel knelt down between Dean’s knees and plotted his move. “Why did you call me?” he asked, getting closer than Dean could really handle.

Green eyes rolled in utter annoyance. “Who the hell else was I gonna ask? Sam?”

“Good point.”

“Can you just… Help.”

Castiel took a deep, unnecessary breath and locked eyes with Dean. Slowly, he set his hands on the plastic tube, ready to extract Little Dean.

“Don’t move, Dean. This may be a bit uncomfortable…”

~

Dean hung back while Y/N kicked off her shoes and tossed her backpack on the desk. She was tired and sore from the road, and more than happy to be home.

“You are lucky you got sick,” she told him, peeling off a sock and pitching it into the laundry basket by the door. “I have never seen so much ectoplasm in my life. And it stunk.”

Dean watched her from the door, his shoulder holding up the entire wall. “Oh yeah? Eggs or asparagus?”

She laughed and cringed at the same time. “Worse. Horse. Like, end of the parade, rainy, horse shit.”

Their eyes met and Dean licked his lips unconsciously. “I missed you.”

She beamed. “Me too.”

She held out her arms for him to join her on the bed, but he stayed put and nodded at the pillow.

“Gotcha something.”

“Oh?” Y/N held onto a smile with her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she turned to find a happy birthday gift bag lying on her pillow. The handles were tied together and price tag sticker residue smudged the bright blue outside. She laughed. “It’s not my birthday.”

Dean moved inside the room. “Yeah, well, they don’t exactly make gift bags for this.”

Curious, Y/N plucked apart the knot and looked inside at her gift. Her jaw dropped. Her eyes went wide.

“Is that?”

Dean held his breath. “Take it out.”

Y/N’s cheeks burned as she pulled a hot pink silicone cock from the bag. “This is… nice…” She held it in a light fist and marveled at how familiar it was. “This is…” She squinted at the top, traced the underridge with her thumb. “Holy shit, Dean! This is you!”

Proud, and rather impressed that she recognised his dick so easily, Dean grinned. “You like?”

Her smile was worth all the pain.

“I love it.”

Dean bent to kiss her softly. “I’m glad.”

“Also…”

He stood up, worried. “Also?”

Placing the replica staff gently on the bed, Y/N went to her backpack and pulled out a plain white box.

“I didn’t have time to wrap it,” she joked, handing him the present.

Carefully, Dean lifted the lid and nearly fell over.

Tucked inside was a silky smooth pink rose with a rather familiar petal formation. Stunned, he looked up at Y/N as he pulled the toy from the box.

“Is this your-”

“Kitty?” She laughed. “Yes.”

Dean let out a laugh that shook his shoulders and brought tears to his eyes. “Great minds, huh?”

Y/N nodded and then rolled her eyes as Dean shoved two fingers into the silicone hole and giggled.

“I’m glad you like it.”

His arms fit around her more perfectly than either would find again. She kissed him sweetly and he retaliated with more, licking into her mouth with hunger and intent.

When he let her go, Y/N hopped on the bed and picked up her toy, examining it closer.

“I do have to admit,” she said, sniffing the cock absently, “I had a little trouble making it.”

Dean joined her, stretching out on his side of the bed while still fingering her petals. “Really? So did I.”

“Not like this.” She laughed and hid her face in her hands. “I kinda… I had to ask for some help.”

Dean sat up quickly and turned to her. “Please tell me you didn’t call Cas.”

She cringed. “Well, who the hell else was I supposed to ask? Sam?” Embarrassment closed her eyes as she explained. “I was… It was making a mess and it was getting all up in… I just… I was kinda praying. Well, cursing loudly, and he popped in and…”

Dean’s silence caught her attention and she opened her eyes to find him red-faced and guilty.

“Wait.” She leaned in, peering into his eyes for a confession. “Did you call Cas?”

He squirmed and shrugged.

“Oh my god, you did!”

Dean laughed. “Like I said… great minds.”

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[roxoxoxoxy]

Includes: Minor pet play, cunnilingus, Sub!Anton with Dom!reader

Very self indulgent, Also my first time writing smut✋🏼

Multiple typos and no sense of grammar, I refuse to proof read more than once.

Anton had never pegged himself as the type of guy who'd be into getting dommed, truthfully he hadn't thought about his sexual preferences that much. He knew he liked it when women were direct with him about what they wanted, he's way too shy to ask upfront, but aside from that he always filled the more "Dominant" role during sex...that is until he met you.

He isn't really sure how he ended up here, in your room, on the floor. He's completely naked and his torso is tied up with shibari, it isn't restricting any of his limbs so he can move freely, it's just there for the aesthetics. Since they "accentuate his sexy muscles" as you'd put it. The shibari is by far the least embarrassing thing you've got him wearing, he's supporting a collar, no not a choker, a fucking dog collar, and on top of that you made him wear dog ears.

Well, he likes to think you "made him" but if Anton is being honest with himself, he knows exactly how he ended up here. He's here because he wants to be, because he craves this....craves you.

What makes this situation even more humiliating is that he's the only one naked, you took off your coat and unbuttoned a few buttons on your top but aside from that you were completely clothed. You've got this shit eating grin on your face, face full of glee, you know he's wrapped around your little finger and if he wasn't so in love with you he'd say you were full of yourself.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of you staring at him with that hungry look in your eyes, you say something.

"Crawl to me. like a good dog." Anton's eyes widen at your words, He looks offended you would even suggest that.

"Just because I put this on for you doesn't mean I'm actually gonna-" Anton trails off as he sees you get up from your position on the bed, closing the distance between you two. Before he can say anything he feels a sharp sting across his cheek....you slapped him, you actually fucking slapped him. His breath hitches in his throat and he closes his eyes, instinctively savoring the stinging feeling on his cheek.

"Aw did that turn you on? That must be embarrassing" His cheeks are red as he looks down at his cock, he's dripping precum onto your floor and he's hard as a rock. The humiliation just turns him on more.

"Fuck- okay fine I am. i just-...." He looks up at you, his eyes pleading. "what do you want me to do?"

You sit back down on the bed, using your hand to beckon him over. He reluctantly starts crawling towards you, his ears and cheeks burning from embarrassment as he tries to ignore how much this is turning him on.

He looks up at you with a sad attempt at a glare, it hardly feels threatening when he's wearing dog ears and crawling around.

".....I could get you a tail too, like with a butt plug-"

"No." He says cutting you off

You laugh at how serious he looks. "okay okay fine, one thing at a time"

You pull up your skirt, pulling down your panties, smiling at how his eyes immediately glue themself to in-between your thighs. You hook one of your legs above his shoulder as he comes closer, his face resting against your lower thigh.

"Go on. Be good for me" Anton doesn't need to be told twice, his lips attaching themselves to your inner thigh, eagerly kissing their way up. His hands find their way to your hips, eagerly pulling you closer, you consider reprimanding him for not asking permission but it's hard to tell him no when he looks so wanting.

His lips finally find your cunt, he leaves a small peck on your clit before he's diving in, his face buried between your legs. Despite his earlier protests Anton seems to have no reservations about acting like a dog now, he laps you up like a mutt eating his first meal in days. You decide not to comment, your words would get stuck in your throat if you tried.

You reach down to tug at his hair, pulling him towards where you need him, he's being too messy. Thankfully he gets the message, taking a deep breath before his tongue is being pushed inside you and he's angling his nose right against your clit. You moan at the feeling, your brain feels all fuzzy from the pleasure.

He uses his hands to guide you to grind against his face, he moans into your pussy making you wrap your thighs around his face. It ends with you half riding his face as you cum all over it, using your hand that isn't occupied with pulling his hair to cover your moans.

Anton pulls back, the bottom half of his face is wet from eating you out and his cheeks are flushed. His eyes look unfocused and hazy while his lips are swollen pink, he looks gorgeous. You instinctively reach down to help him get off too only to find that he already came,...from eating you out.

"....You're really into this, huh?"

"Shut up."

Puppy boy Anton, my beloved. Had this idea floating around in my head for a while, not sure if I executed it well but I had fun writing it.

[avaredava]

Okay so I'm a stoner. My husband is a stoner. We often (everyday) fuck (like whores) while high so thats where these thoughts come from.

Let's imagine Suguru.

Best friend Suguru. You smoke all the time together. You're bitching about these men not giving good head. He disagrees. Skip to being on your back, legs spread open and pushed back. Suguru is feasting while you smoke a joint.

OR

Plug!Suguru, but you've probably known each other for a year. He just gets the best bud. You always share a joint - his treat, always free. But man you're so thankful. Skip to being on your knees, between his legs as he sits on the couch, maybe smoking, maybe taking pictures (if you like that, i sure do) while you throat him.

Am I a whore? Hopefully yes.

Kisses ❤️❤️

EEK thats literally such beautiful writing *i say as i slowly pull out my meat* (I'm a girl)

This is the first request and this is the second

୨୧・・・・୨୧

MDNI

Master list's

⯌ Sum

Stoner Suguru and his best friend little miss "I swear to god getting eaten out doesn't feel good!" and he might want to change your mind or head I guess you can say (pun intended)

⯌ Wc

1.2k

⯌Warnings

Drug use (weed), quick eat out with another guy that was lowkey cringe and not good at it, Suguru takes things into his own hands, oral!fem rec, clit stimulation, doing most of it high, some bondage, ate out on the bed in his room, pulling suguru's majestic hair 😖, they are high most of the time, so a shit ton of smoking, fingering, after care

୨୧・・・・୨୧

"Suguru fucking Geto get your ass in here!"

That's what you say to him more than you would like to admit. He takes a bunch of things from you ranging from your weed stash and your other pills to your panties and bras.

He came into your room with the whites of his eyes a bit red. Obvious of what he took. The idiot couldn't lie. "Mmm what's wrong pretty girl?" He mumbles with that stupid high smile on his face.

"Don't call me pretty girl. I'm having someone coming over. So you better not flirt with me. Because I want actually want to have sex." You say with a frown. It's been awhile and you've been horny.

"I can-"

"I'm not having sex with you, your my best friend and roommate and guess what else you are? High. Also I'm mad at you for stealing my shit so- get out." You push him out of your room and go to the front door to let the guy in.

He's tall, and pretty hot. Suguru is sitting on the couch eyeing him down. But he's to slug right now to say anything so he keeps smoking. You bring the boy in your room and you both undress.

He throws you on to the bed and he kisses down your body nothing romantic and then he gets to your pussy and sucks uncomfortably on your vagina no where close to your clit. He licks your folds nothing pleasureful.

You faked moaned try to please him more than yourself. "You close?" He said with a grin. Holy fuck you wanted to throw yourself off a balcony from this shit. This is so fucking disgusting and just overall, devastating for this man.

"Mhmm..?" You let out a sarcastic mhm and the idiot believed it. You let out a small cough to get attention and let out a short. "I came." It was an obvious lie to get him to piss off.

"Are you not gonna make me come to kitten?" What the fuck. "Uhm you can go. Maybe next time." (There will be no next time.) You practically kicked him out of the house and flopped back down with Suguru.

"Those moans were clearly fake." He bluntly states. You feel your face heat up with embarrassment. You were about to back yourself up but he cut you off. "I can make those pretty moans real."

That made you wet. No- soaked. Yes, he's your roommate, more so your best friend. But the way his eyes were so seductive, his soft hair your picturing your self grabbing as he eats you out.

But you do have a problem.

"Suguru no, I've never gotten good head. Yours won't be any better. So don't get your hopes up."

He chuckled with that handsome smile and his messy hair. His eyes were beet red but still so pretty. "If you let me..." He takes a puff. "I'll make you feel so good. I won't force you, you know I never will."

You sucked your breath in and considered. Maybe that tongue piercing might feel good on your pussy. "Fine. But this might ruin our friendship though." You say in a worried tone.

"Pretty, I want you more than just friends and I won't stop until I have you. I hope you know that." he says, in a sappy tone. Being sappy isn't like him but the more his eyes get red and the more inhales explains a lot.

He grabs your hand and brings you to his bedroom. It has band posters all over and a very black theme. You let him lay you flat on the bed and he gently kisses you.

"Good thing I have the munchies." He says in a shallow, joking voice. He kisses down your body after taking off your shirt. He gropes your tits rubbing the nipples.

He pulls down your pants and panties. He sniffs your pussy breathing in deeply. He sticks his tongue out then stops. You sigh disappointed. "I thought you were gonna make me feel good?" You say in a smug and annoyed tone.

You had a feeling this was gonna happen. They either don't know what to do when trying to eat out and just give up and just pull out their dick or just do it bad.

"I will don't worry..." He takes a joint and some weed from your dresser and your brows furrow. He rolls a joint up and lights the tip up and puts it into your mouth.

"Pretty girl I want you to smoke it at the same time. Get you a little high, hm?" He says in a seductive tone. You can never say no to that especially if you want release for your pussy and that tight knot in your stomach.

He kisses your pubic area then slowly kisses your folds. Since he's still high (you're sorta concerned about how much he took) but it's really lazy. He licks your slit, low and sensual. Something about this just made you more wet.

What the hell are you doing?

This is your best friend! Plus it's someone you live with. But all your thoughts crumble to ash as he latches onto your clit and you start to get high. For some reason it made you feel even better.

You were embarrassed to admit but this felt really fucking good. You let out a true moan for the first time being eaten out.

He shoved two of his long fingers inside with black finger nail paint. He found your spongy spot in practically a second. He attacked your g-spot with his fingers, while he sucked on your clit like he wanted to leave a hickey. (Maybe he did.)

Your mind began to get foggy the more you smoked. All you could feel is pleasure at this point. "S-Sugu..." Your eyes brimmed with tears. That was the most you could say or do then shake and moan.

"You close sweetheart?" First time you could never be disgusted by that sentence. You just whined louder as an answer you really couldn't answer. He chuckled into your pussy causing pleasurable vibrations.

The more you smoke the more you relax, so the more you can't run or move. The more you moan and holler. This feels like the best kind of torture.

You pull at his hair and he moans and squeezes his eyes shut. "God woman." He groans. He thrusts his fingers faster while he grins and shuts his eyes the more you pull the faster he trusts and abuses your sweet spot.

"Sugu!" You squeal as you squirt he latches on to your clit again making you practically scream. He massages your thighs with small rubs while he gently sucks.

He licks your juices off drunk on your taste. You feel your eyes get hazy and droopy with the lazy licks after the best fucking orgasm you ever had.

You eventually pass out. Maybe it was the weed or maybe the mind altering orgasm. But he grabbed a wet towel and gently dabbed your pussy making sure it's clean from your cum and his saliva.

He slides your pink lacy panties on and one of his shirts. He crawls up taking the joint out of your mouth and puts it on the night stand beside his bed. He holds you tight against him kissing your forehead.

He licked his lips still drunk on your taste. He pulled the blankets up and kissed your forehead one last time. He whispered into your ear gently trying not to wake you up.

"Is being ate out still not good?"

୨୧・・・・୨୧

[kkanabel]

drunken confessions ✫ chapter ii

curly x reader

summary: Curly is the designated driver, so he’s helping you as you vomit your guts out because you pushed yourself too hard with the liquor. He knows you don’t like him the same way he does—right? At least he thinks so before you confess to him that you think about cuddling with him after sex. In this chapter, you both start to blur the lines.

directory/m.list ⇦ previous chapter - next chapter (comin soon)⇨

words: ~4.2k

t/w: friends with benefits!!, mutual(?) pining, confused!reader, hookup culture, slim jim exists (but isn't present in this chapter), pretty light yucky under the cut(very tame smut), gn!pronouns for reader (mostly, i think. if i fucked up somewhere, pls let me know), mention of s**ual harassment

a/n: more self-indulgent shit <3

The next morning greeted you with a relentless pounding in your head and a parched throat that felt like sandpaper. You groaned, shifting against the tangle of blankets before the events of last night hit you like a freight train.

At first, it had seemed like just a harmless, tipsy dream—a montage of Curly’s face, as breathtakingly gorgeous as ever. But as the dream played on, the edges of reality began to creep in. The heat in his cheeks, the incredulous look in his eyes, the sound of your own drunken voice slurring out “tiddiesss”—it wasn’t a dream. It was a memory.

Your eyes flew open, wide with horror.

“Oh my God,” you whispered to yourself, voice hoarse. You sat up so fast your head spun, and you buried your face in your hands.

I sexually harassed one of my closest friends, you realized, mortified.

What the hell is wrong with you? Curly was nothing but kind to you—always the one to look out for you when you drank too much or got yourself into some sort of embarrassing predicament. 

And last night? He’d been an absolute saint, driving you home without a single complaint. And what had you done in return? Made him feel uncomfortable and made a complete fool of yourself.

He wasn’t even interested in you like that—you knew that!—and yet your drunk self had decided to be the absolute worst.

You groaned again, louder this time, and grabbed your phone off the bedside table. Of course, Curly, ever the gentleman, had not only driven you home but also plugged in your phone to charge and even left a water bottle next to your phone. The reminder of his kindness only deepened the pit of shame in your stomach.

As you tapped the screen and drank from the water bottle, your faint reflection on the dark screen caught your eye. Your heart sank further. You looked like a disaster—deep shadows under your eyes, your hair sticking out in every direction, and your skin dull and puffy from dehydration. You sighed, resolving to pull yourself together.

Tonight, you decided. The group was coming over for dinner, and Curly would be there. You’d apologize—really apologize—not just for last night but for all the other moments when you’d let your insecurities spill over into bad decisions. But for now, you needed to get to the bathroom and make yourself look halfway human.

By the time the evening rolled around, the smell of simmering sauces and roasted meats and vegetables filled your small apartment, doing its best to mask the lingering scent of cleaning products from your earlier frenzy. You glanced at the table, double-checking that everything was perfect. Plates, glasses, and cloth napkins were arranged neatly, and you’d even lit a few candles in an effort to create a warm, inviting atmosphere.

You stepped back, pressing your palms against your thighs to keep them from trembling. Everything was perfect—at least on the surface. Inside, your stomach twisted like a wrung-out towel, the weight of seeing Curly again sitting heavily in your chest.

The knock at the door jolted you out of your spiraling thoughts. You smoothed your shirt and opened it, a bright smile already plastered on your face.

Daisuke was the first to step in, his easy grin lighting up the room. “I come bearing gifts!” he announced grandly, holding up a bottle of wine like a wizard revealing a prized elixir. He sniffed the air and let out a low whistle. “Wow, smells amazing in here!”

Anya followed close behind, giving you a quick hug before dropping her bag by the couch. “Oh my, you’ve outdone yourself,” she gushed, eyeing the spread on the table while placing down a pie she’d made on the kitchen counter. Everything about the pumpkin pie was perfect—a perfectly smooth surface with dollops of whipped cream that were piped on with precision.

“Don’t get too excited,” you said with a laugh, your nerves making it come out a bit stilted. “I might’ve accidentally over-salted the potatoes.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Daisuke teased, and you rolled your eyes at him, grateful for the distraction.

“And as if you didn’t overcook the salmon last time,” you shot back, elbowing him lightly. His groan of mock defeat made you smile, the exchange doing wonders to ease your nerves—until Curly stepped through the doorway.

The sight of him hit you like a freight train. His broad shoulders seemed to fill the doorway, and his casual jeans and perfectly fitted T-shirt might as well have been tailor-made for all the effect they had on you. His golden hair caught the warm candlelight, giving him an almost ethereal glow, and when he smiled—a small, shy one—you felt the air in your lungs turn heavy.

Your heart clenched. 

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor— 

You tore your gaze away, fixating on the food instead, pretending to fuss over the table settings.

“Hey,” he said simply, his voice warm and unassuming, as though last night hadn’t happened.

The way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the soft upward curve of his lips—it all felt like too much. Your chest tightened, the sting of regret bubbling to the surface.

“Hey,” you replied, the word slipping out softer than you intended.

As everyone settled in, you found yourself stealing glances at Curly from across the table. He seemed relaxed, chatting with Daisuke about some new project he was working on, his easy tone lulling you into a false sense of security. But every so often, his gaze flickered toward you—quick, fleeting glances that made your pulse race. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to catch your eye or trying to actively avoid it.

You poured yourself a glass of wine, swirling it absently as you stared down at the roasted zucchini on your plate. Your mind wandered, already concocting a way to escape your spiraling thoughts after the night was over. Maybe you’d call one of the people you regularly hooked up with, someone uncomplicated who wouldn’t make you feel like this. But first—you had to apologize. Properly.

Anya leaned closer, her voice a low murmur. “You okay? You seem… distracted.”

You forced a smile, shaking your head. “Just tired,” you said, your tone light but unconvincing.

She studied you for a moment but let it go, turning her attention back to the table. Meanwhile, you busied yourself pouring drinks for everyone, clinging to the repetitive motions to ground yourself. 

You needed to find the right moment to apologize. You just hoped Curly wouldn’t leave before you got the chance.

Unconsciously, you refilled his glass multiple times, oblivious to the way his cheeks grew pinker with each pour. 

He wasn’t drunk—not even close. Curly had always been a lightweight with his emotions, not alcohol. It was you being this close, leaning over him with your hesitant, apologetic air, that sent his thoughts spinning.

When the plates were empty, you clapped your hands, forcing cheer into your voice. “Who’s up for dessert?”

“Pumpkin pie courtesy of Anya!” you added, smiling at her.

Daisuke perked up immediately. “Any dessert Anya touches turns to gold,” he said dreamily. “I still think about that key lime pie sometimes…”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, watching him pat and rub at his stomach. Moments ago, he’d claimed he was too full to move, yet now he seemed ready to demolish an entire pie by himself.

“I’ll help,” Curly blurted suddenly, standing so quickly his chair scraped against the floor. He began collecting empty plates, avoiding your gaze as his movements turned brisk and purposeful.

The two of you found yourselves alone in the kitchen.

You watched him from the doorway, your gaze trailing over his broad back as he rinsed the dishes and placed them carefully into the dishwasher. So thoughtful, so helpful, so kind. Your chest swelled with something bittersweet—gratitude tinged with guilt. How could someone so lovely have been dragged into this… mess you created?

Your breath caught when you noticed the tips of his ears were pink. Why in the world-

“Curly,” you said, your voice soft, hesitant.

He stiffened slightly, pausing mid-motion. “Yeah?”

God, you felt so guilty. He must feel so uncomfortable.

“Later, when everyone’s about to leave… could I have a word with you? Privately?”

His shoulders twitched, and he tilted his head slightly upward, his blonde hair catching the light. You winced, imagining the worst—he must be uncomfortable, must hate this, must hate you. But then he turned to face you, his expression something softer, something… nervous?

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks a little red. “I’d like to talk to you too.”

Your heart plummeted to your stomach. What did he have to talk to you for?

You moved to the counter, your hands trembling slightly as you plated slices of pumpkin pie. “Curly, just to preface, I—” You stopped, your throat tightening. “I’m so sorry.”

His eyebrows flew up, confusion flickering across his face. His lips parted like he was about to ask you something, but Daisuke’s loud laughter from the dining room interrupted the moment.

You forced a weak smile, handing him two plates. “Let’s go.”

You carried the dessert back to the table together, but the knot in your chest only grew heavier. The words lingered on your tongue, waiting for a moment that might never come.

A couple of hours and a few glasses of wine later, Anya and Daisuke exchanged a glance you couldn’t quite decipher. Anya sighed—almost contentedly—while rising from her seat.

“Well, it’s about time for us to head out. Thanks for the amazing dinner!”

You walked them to the door, your mind already spinning from what was coming next. Hugging them both tightly, you forced a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thanks for the wine, Daisuke. And Anya, the pie was heavenly as always.”

“No problem,” Daisuke said, grinning as he patted his stomach. “And remember: dessert stomachs are a thing.”

As their laughter faded down the hallway and the door clicked shut, the air in the room grew heavier. Turning back, you saw Curly sitting hunched over on the couch, his elbows propped on his knees and his fingers laced together. His cheeks were tinged pink, and his biceps flexed subtly as he leaned forward, lost in thought.

Your gaze lingered on him—on the quiet strength he carried, the way the light made his hair glow like gold. But then you tore your eyes away, guilt curling tighter in your chest.

“Curly, I—” You hesitated, deciding to sit across from him rather than beside him, worried you might make him uncomfortable. Your hands fidgeted in your lap as you avoided his gaze. “What I did last night… It was so inappropriate, and I’m so sorry. I probably made you so uncomfortable, and—”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. The sound disarmed you, warm and low, like a summer breeze cutting through the tension in your chest.

“Hey.” His voice was gentle as his eyes met yours. “I didn’t mind it.”

Your breath caught. You couldn’t look away, the way his gaze softened and lingered making your heart beat faster.

Before you could process his words, Curly stood up and walked over, taking the seat beside you. The couch dipped under his weight, and the warmth radiating off him was so tangible you felt your pulse stutter. You wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him.

“Wait. What?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“I mean…” His face turned redder, and he coughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t mind if… you wanted to cuddle after… sex.”

Your mind froze, his words reverberating in your ears as your brain raced to make sense of them.

Cuddle? After what?

And then it hit you.

“Oh my God,” you shrieked, burying your burning face in your hands. “What else did I say to you while I was drunk!?”

The mortification was instant and complete. Your skin prickled with heat as your thoughts spiraled to the worst possible scenarios. Whatever it was, it had to be bad. You didn’t trust your drunk self to have any sense of shame or decorum.

Curly chuckled, the sound light and amused, and your heart twisted in response. “I don’t mind,” he said softly, gently prying your hands from your face. His touch was impossibly warm, firm but careful, as if you were something delicate.

You reluctantly let him, meeting his gaze with what had to be the most mortified expression he’d ever seen.

“I was hoping for it, actually,” he added, his lips quirking into a shy smile that made your stomach flip.

For a moment, you could only stare at him, utterly appalled. Sitting this close to you, holding your wrists, was the most handsome man you’d ever met. And he wasn’t just okay with what you’d said—he liked it? Wanted it?

This had to be a dream. Or a nightmare.

As if to confirm this wasn’t some cruel trick of your imagination, his hands shifted. One slid from your wrist to cup your face, his thumb brushing the curve of your cheek. His hands were big and warm, his touch tender in a way that made your breath hitch.

“May I kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The words sent a jolt through you. His gaze searched yours, his eyes patient yet tinged with vulnerability. He wasn’t teasing. He was serious.

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe.

“Yes, Curly, please,” you blurted, the words tumbling out before you could process them.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a soft smile before he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, as if testing the waters. The kiss was so gentle, so achingly tender, it made your chest ache. 

His hand stayed on your cheek, his other resting lightly on the couch beside you, keeping his presence steady but not overwhelming.

Your mind reeled. You couldn’t reconcile this—the softness of his kiss, the warmth of his touch—with your guilt and embarrassment. But as his lips moved against yours, slow and deliberate, the world seemed to fade away.

When he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his hand lingered against your cheek. His eyes searched yours, his expression a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

“You’re… okay?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with hesitation.

“I…” You blinked, still dazed, your heart thundering in your chest. “I don’t understand. Why would you want this? After everything I said—everything I did—”

He kissed you again.

“I know you’re embarrassed,” he continued, his voice steady but kind. “And I know you think you messed up, but you didn’t. Not for me.”

The sincerity in his gaze was unbearable. You wanted to look away, but he held you there, his hand grounding you as your emotions churned.

The kiss lingered in the air long after you’d pulled away. Curly’s gaze locked onto yours, searching for something—anything—that would anchor him in the chaos you’d just unleashed. Your expression was a mix of confusion and something else he couldn’t name, and he was sure his face wasn’t much better.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off before you could speak. “We don’t have to talk about it,” he said quickly, his voice lower than usual, rougher. His hand still rested on your cheek, the warmth of your skin seeping into his palm.

Your brow furrowed, but you didn’t push. “Okay,” you murmured, almost hesitant.

He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Maybe we... take things slow?” His stomach twisted even as the words left his mouth. He wanted you—God, he wanted you—but not like this. Not with you still looking at him like you were bracing for a rejection that he’d never even consider giving.

But then you nodded, a small, nervous laugh escaping your lips. “Yeah, sure. Slow sounds good.” Your fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, and he felt his confidence from the wine slipping.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward, exactly—it was heavy, charged. He could feel it in the way your shoulder brushed his when you leaned back, in the way your foot tapped anxiously against the floor.

“Curly,” you began, breaking the quiet. He turned to face you, his chest tightening at the seriousness in your tone. “About what happened. Where do we go from here?”

He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he waited for you to continue.

“We could...” He hesitated, biting his lip. “We could just keep it casual. No pressure, no expectations. We don’t have to make it... a thing.”

Although those words came out of his own mouth, it hit him like a gut punch, and he hated how quickly his brain latched onto it. He hated himself for even considering it, for wanting to be close to you in any way he could. “No expectations,” he said again, his voice flat. He was so afraid of you rejecting him that he ended it right there—putting you into a situation he knew you were comfortable with. 

After all, he knew you were completely comfortable with just hooking up with people. A part of him didn’t even consider that you’d ever want to be in a committed relationship. And honestly, you thought the same thing about him.

You nodded, expression unreadable. “Yeah, sure. I mean, we’re adults. We can handle it, right?”

He wanted to tell you “nevermind” and “no”. Wanted to tell you that he didn’t want “casual,” didn’t want to be another passing thing in your life. But the thought of losing you, the thought of not having what little you were okay with offering made his chest ache.

“Yeah,” he said finally, the word tasting bitter on his tongue. “If that’s what you want.”

Even then, his mind raced at the idea you’d even be okay with kissing him. Fuck, he thought you didn’t even find him attractive whatsoever.

The room felt smaller, the air thick with something. Curly’s hand started cupping your face again, his pretty eyes searching yours as if for answers to questions he didn’t dare ask out loud. His eyelashes brushed his cheeks as he blinked, watching the nerves show in your face.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

And with that, the dam broke.

With a groan that was half pain, half relief, he pulled you closer. Your mouths collided, the kiss deepening as he lost all semblance of control. His other hand found the back of your neck, pulling you closer still. Everything was so warm about him—his hands, his lips, his hold, everything. You found yourself trying not to melt in his hold.

It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken desires, of quiet yearnings kept hidden beneath a veil of friendship. Even then, it wasn’t honest.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you kissed him back with a passion that surprised even you. You felt alive, your body responding in a way it never had with anyone else. His scent was intoxicating, the warmth of his skin like a blanket on a cold night. You fumbled at the hem of his shirt, eager to feel more of him, to explore the muscular planes of his body that you’d admired from afar.

He broke the kiss, his chest heaving. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice thick with need.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. “Yes,” you breathed.

With a gentle nod, he stood, lifting you in his arms with no effort and carrying you to your bed. For all you knew, you looked up at him like he hung the stars. The thought of it made your eyes wrench away from his face, still.

He laid you down with care, his hands roaming over your body as he removed your clothing. You felt a thrill of excitement as his fingertips brushed against your skin, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

He took in a sharp breath as he felt the planes of your body, thoughts conflicted but so satisfied all at the same time.

The room was a blur of sensations as you lost yourself in the moment. The weight of his body pressing down on yours, the heat of his breath against your neck, the way his hands moved with a confidence that sent shivers down your spine. There was no room for doubt, no space for regrets. Only the here and now, the feel of his skin against yours, and the promise of pleasure that grew with every shared touch.

He unbuttoned his jeans with a smoothness that belied his own excitement and then slid off your pants and underwear off in one fluid movement.

Curly’s eyes roamed over your naked body, a mix of hunger and awe in his gaze. He leaned in, kissing a trail from your belly button to your chest, taking his time to savor every inch of you. His mouth closed around one nipple, eliciting a gasp from you, while his hand explored further down.

The world outside the room ceased to exist as he entered you, filling you in a way that was both familiar and new. 

There were no words, only the sound of your breaths mingling with his, the slap of skin against skin, and the heady rhythm that grew faster, more urgent with each passing moment.

You felt the tension build, your body tightening around him like a vice. He kissed you again, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hips, and you knew you were close. So close.

And then, with a cry that seemed to tear itself from the very depths of your soul, you climaxed, the waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. He followed, his own release a silent exclamation of ecstasy as he twitched and thrusted once more.

As the aftershocks of passion ebbed away, the room grew still, the silence broken only by the sound of your unsteady breaths. You lay there, staring up at the ceiling, your body warm against Curly’s, his steady heartbeat thumping beneath your ear as you leaned against his chest. The weight of what had just happened pressed down on you—not in regret, but in the terrifying awareness that this wasn’t just physical for you.

Your chest felt heavy, though you couldn’t bring yourself to move. His hand rested idly on your back, his thumb tracing soft circles that you weren’t sure he even realized he was doing. The quiet intimacy of it made your heart ache. You tried to focus on the present, on the afterglow, on the way his skin felt against yours, but your thoughts kept spiraling.

This wasn’t supposed to feel this way. It never has when you hooked up with others.

“Stay the night, Curly,” you said suddenly, your voice softer than you intended. You lifted your head from his chest to look at him, catching the flicker of surprise in his eyes.

His brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he smiled—soft, hesitant, but undeniably warm. “You sure?” he asked, his voice low and still tinged with the rasp of moments earlier.

You nodded, biting back the urge to explain yourself too much. “I don’t want to have to treat you like... the others,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The confession hung in the air, vulnerable and raw. You swallowed hard, the truth settling uncomfortably between you. You already knew—you couldn’t even imagine sleeping with (or even holding—at this point) anyone else after him.

His chest rose and fell beneath your head in a steady rhythm, his gaze fixed on yours. For a moment, you thought he might push back, remind you of the rules you both agreed on. But instead, his hand slid up to your hair, his fingers weaving gently through it. “You don’t have to,” he murmured, the weight of his words carrying more meaning than you could unpack in that moment.

You melted a little at his words, your lips curving into a small smile despite yourself. The knot in your chest eased just enough for you to breathe again. You hadn’t realized how tightly you’d been holding on until now.

You were still staring at his face after it all, still trying to regain your bearings. Then, breaking the tension with a casualness that felt both maddening and endearing, he grinned at you, boyish and bright. “Wanna grab milkshakes?”

The abruptness of it startled a laugh out of you, your forehead dropping against his chest as the tension between you shifted into something lighter. “Milkshakes?” you repeated, lifting your head to meet his gaze again.

“Yeah, I know a place that’s open late. Best chocolate shake you’ve ever had. Trust me,” he said, his grin widening. “Though I prefer malt.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, the sound soft and unguarded. “Fine,” you said, shaking your head. “But you’re paying.”

“That was the plan anyway.”

And just like that, the moment shifted. The raw, vulnerable edges dulled slightly, tucked away for another time. But as he kissed your forehead and started pulling on his clothes, you couldn’t help but feel it—your heart was already too tangled for this to stay as simple as you pretended it could be.

a/n: let me know what you all think pleeeease!

big thank you to all the commentors, reblogs, and general LOVE that i've been getting from these fics. it means everything to me & keeps me writing <3

true curly tiddie yucky coming in the next chapter lol

taglist is open! lmk if you want to be on the taglist for just curly/mouthwashing characters or if you want the news on alll my fics.

also might be accepting requests hehe! i can’t guarantee that i can do em, but i’ll accept ideas!

as always, not beta read, please let me know if there are any typos/inconsistencies lmfao;; stay safe & hydrated as always!

thanks for reading! <3

crossposted on ao3

taglist: @m-carriaga2021, @skyeconch, @wolfsune09, @luvsymai

directory/m.list ⇦ previous chapter - next chapter (comin soon)⇨

[yuellii]

“Your eyes are very pretty.”

In the incandescences of the night, Neuvillette feels heat rush to his cheeks in a matter of seconds. The sense was not quite unfamiliar, but it was certainly inexplicable considering it only came from your compliments alone. Perhaps it was the words you used, so casually thrown at him in a manner like this. He always felt this way when you were alone together.

Watching as you lean forward against the railing of the bridge, he chooses to reply: “You’re pretty, too.”

Your eyes widen. The moonlight mirroring the sea before you instantly illuminated the surprise in your expression, and he panics. Was he not supposed to say that? Should he have used a different word?

At this rate, he’s lost control of his heartbeat.

But then, you smile so brightly, it rivals the sun that has already set so soon. He feels the beating in his chest calming ever-so slightly, because your smile centered the notion that you weren’t upset with him. “Is that a compliment?” you lead with lingering laughter. “Did I just receive a compliment from you, Monsieur?—from the ‘heartless’ Chief Justice Neuvillette?”

At first, he was a little saddened at the fact you would believe such rumors that spread around the Fontainian citizens. Because they hurt him, inevitably—being deemed stone-cold and apathetic while he tried his hardest to understand human emotions. And those words coming from the mouth of someone he secretly loved—someone he truly wanted to understand him—well, it may have hurt him a little more than it should’ve.

“Does my outwardly presentation…” he began quietly, solemnly staring down into the calm water, “really look so unkind?”

The smile was swiped from your face immediately once you realized he took offense. “No, no, I was only joking, good Monsieur!” you quickly assured. Neuvillette found it difficult to swallow—if it was just a joke, why did he feel a sting in his chest? Perhaps this was yet another section of human speech he had to learn. “I just felt it was rare,” you looked up so kindly concerned at him, “to hear you say something like that. It was really nice, actually.”

‘Really nice?’ You were satisfied with him just speaking his thoughts? Because truly, he’s thought about how pretty you are, and every synonym to rival beauty—every day, he’s thought it. And today was the first time he’s ever voiced it.

“But,” he looked back at you next to him, confusion clouding his face, “you should know it. You’re very pretty.”

He watched as embarrassment flooded your face the moment he spoke those words. And now, he was even more perplexed. He was not even trying to get you flustered; he was only explaining why his compliment wasn’t necessarily a compliment ( but instead, a fact ) in the first place, so why were you suddenly so shy?

“I mean it,” he reinforced when you shoved your face into your hands. Did he have to explain more? “I’m sure everyone who knows you thinks the same way, so it should be common knowledge that—”

“Oh, Monsieur,” you cut him off in pure self-consciousness, “you’re such a sweet-talker even when you’re not trying to be!” Was he really? And then you laughed, staring up at him with a joyous little crease under your eyes. “And to think, here I was, trying to compliment you first...”

He cleared his throat as he cast his gaze down to the water again. “Ah, you don’t need to do that…”

What was this bubbling feeling in this stomach? His head, his abdomen—all felt so light, like he was sparkling inside and ready to float to the heavens. But his throat was dry and his lungs felt plugged, as if he could not utter another word without choking himself. This was all so unfamiliar to him, but he didn’t think he hated it, at least.

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow at him. “But I do think your eyes are pretty”—he looked away shyly once more—“and it should be ‘common knowledge’, as well.” Using his own words against him, how cruel… Could you not see how red his face was getting? How fast his heart was pumping? He could only pray that you couldn’t hear how loudly it was beating in his chest. You thought his eyes were pretty… His eyes, the very same ones people thought looked cold and emotionless. But you thought they were pretty.

Oh, he might just dissolve right now.

“You should know it, good Monsieur,” you grinned up at him. A grin that held a glint of mischief granted from the moonlight, and yet, he could not ignore the gentleness of genuineness that also radiated from your expression.

The more you look at him with such tenderness… He might just finally learn what human love really is.