bosomybozophile

[bosomybozophile]

MDNI i will block u and hit you with hammers -5000 aura not safe for ford jorkin it under the cut

[bosomybozophile]

Ford Pines NSFW Alphabet

(Written for my best friend <3 I hope it makes you feel better)

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

Absolutely doting. Brings them a warm, wet rag to clean off, water, a fresh shirt, you name it. Very touchy, lives off the closeness and skin on skin contact. Asks a lot of questions about what they liked and what they didn't, if anything. Catalogues the marks he left. Sometimes draws them if they falls asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part is mouth, I think. Knows what it's good for-talking and as a seat. (I do think he would grow to like his own hands after being with someone he loved)

His favorite body part of his partner is this one specific freckle/mole behind their knee. Oh, you wanted something like boobs/ass? Neither. The crux of their leg.

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

His cum is a little more liquid than not. Comes a normal amount but it comes in waves. Whines through it.

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

Thought about his partner sexually before their first time together and considers that a dirty secret for sure.

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

Not very experienced. College took up a lot of his time, then he was paranoid as hell, then he was in alternate dimensions for 30 years. Did fuck around with aliens, partially for science and partially cause he was lonely.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary??? He's classic. That, or spooning, him behind them and lazily rocking against them. So much skin contact.

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

Definitely more serious, he's trying very hard and he needs to focus, dammit. Once he gets started it's hard to stop.

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

Takes very good care of himself, keeps it trim and neat. Has a happy trail and also grooms that.

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

Very romantic, I think, or tries to be. Sometimes he gets caught up in his head/too focused but most of the time he's very about his partner and he's so, so sweet.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Did in high school/college to see what the fuss was about. Did not when he was working on the portal. Rarely did when In between dimensions cause he wasn't often safe.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

If they wear his shirt. Or on the opposite end of the spectrum of tameness, making them come until they cry. Somnophilia, if they gave permission first. If he can't sleep it's a nice way to pass the time and feel close.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In bed??? (Later they could convince him to do it in his study)

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

Every touch is like electric to this man. Touch starved as hell. If they look in his general direction sometimes wonders why his pants got tight. It's a process.

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

He wouldn't want to hurt them at all. Would also not want to be restrained, triggers him to Weirdmageddon. Do not degrade him, he takes it too hard.

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

Preference to give for sure. Would stay down there for hours if they let him. Gets lost in it. He's greedy. Wants to see how many times he can get them to tremble for him. Tell him he's made for it and watch how red he turns.

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

He's half and half. Ideally he wants it slow so he can focus and commit it all to memory and slowly take them apart. Sometimes he just gets too caught up in it and then he's much faster.

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

He would much rather take his time. What's the point if he only gets to make them come once??

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

Experiment, yes. He's definitely made an aphrodisiac/stimulating gel before. Has made an experiment about how many times he can physically get them to come (actually had to be begged to stop, he apologized with lots of kisses) Risky? No. Wants them safe and happy always

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

He's so touch starved I think he comes pretty quick. Prefers lots of foreplay and for them to come at least twice before he gets his. Is a little embarrassed about it but makes up for it in spades.

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

Makes toys, but more for teasing than actual insertion. I mentioned the gel, but I could also see remote control vibrators or experimental stimulations.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to think he can tease but he's too desperate for that. He can't tease for long before he wants more. Sometimes he breaks before his partner does.

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

This man is loud. Whines a lot. Moans. Whimpers. He would try to talk through it and get cut off by his own sounds.

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

Listen I'm still on this-the mind reading helmet. Making them wear it and going down on them. In a less sexy note, is self conscious about all the scars and old tattoos. Lichtenberg scars are really sensitive, though. They can replace his self conscious thoughts with other ones. ;)

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

Hairy but well groomed. Has a little tummy. His arms are built but not as big as Stans-Ford is built more for dexterity and speed. His pecs make perfect pillows. Has “Flirty Girl” and “Hey now you're an all star” tattoos. Definitely had old Bill worship tattoos that he burned/scarred the eyes off of. Has Lichtenberg scars after Bill electrocuting him and has many scars from knives and bullets from his time in the portal.

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

Before he meets the love of his life, very low. (I headcanon Ford as Demi) After??? He can't get enough of the physical contact, though it's not always sexual. Just wants to be touching them. He yearns more for them sexually then he yearns for his own release.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Ford doesn't sleep very well anyway (cat naps or like, an hour or so increments) knows it's not healthy but he has nightmares and is not used to being safe when he sleeps. Anyway, after sex he stays up looking at his partner, memorizing every mark, freckle, mole, wrinkle, scar. He is very doting in aftercare and will absolutely cuddle. Draws them, like I mentioned. Sometimes reads in bed.

[bosomybozophile]

I hope you don't mind the message but your tags made my entire morning, and also, you are SO right about Stan having a dildo modeled after him I'm wheeeeeezing thank you lmao

AHHH omg no i dont mind! this ask made MY morning (night) hehe!! im so glad u liked the comment <3 its such a Stan thing to do like hes so full of himself lol, he'd affectionately name it lil stanely too or smth hes such a dork

speaking of dorks i also just read ur ford nsfw alphabet nd ough... gotta rb that one too omg u truly understand these men. i hope 2 see more from u in the future :o3

[bosomybozophile]

Stanley Pines NSFW Alphabet

(Written for myself. lmao)

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

Tbh I think this depends. If it's with a one night stand, he's pretty “hit it and sleep” or he goes to the Stanmobile to sleep if they're being clingy or he's spooked. A quick “thanks, toots” and a slap on the ass and he's out. If he's with someone he cares about, he's very clingy. Will give them a sip of his Pitt from the side table and lots of kisses and his hands are everywhere. Does not care about sweat or wiping anything down. Wants to be big spoon to sleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: His hands/arms. Knows he's muscley and knows his hands are huge. Also likes his crooked grin cause it's very different from Ford’s smile. Theirs: loves a good pair of thick thighs. Tbh I don't see him disliking any part of his partner but he loves them “with meat on their bones” as he says. More to grab and squish. (When they've been together for a while, will say he adores their eyes, too, but especially when they're looking at him.)

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

Comes a lot and it's pretty thick. Doesn't taste bad but not good either (his diet isn't great) Would prefer to come inside but is fine with it on their face/chest/stomach/ass/etc. He's not picky.

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

I could see him keeping panties in his pocket and randomly touching them or holding them against his face.

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

He's…experienced in one night stands. Knows what he's doing but only when it's rough/fast/etc. If it's slow and sweet he gets flustered and is easier to overwhelm.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Sitting against the headboard with them in his lap, their back to his chest, slow deep fuckin or using his fingers. Will whisper naughty things in their ear and watch his hand between their legs. Would never forget the image of his lover wearing his gold chain, riding him, the pendant swinging with their movements.

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

Once he's comfy, he can be both. I can see him teasing and picking lil fights and trying to make them laugh, but I could also see him just wanting their attention focused. Is very “keep your eyes on me”

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

Grey hairs around the base. Probably doesn't care about trimming it unless his partner asks him to, and will probably make a grumbly comment about the effort. He does not care if his partner shaves.

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

Again, depends if it's a one night stand or not. If it is, it's not romantic at all. He's there for one thing only, no strings attached. If it isn't, he's absolutely worshipful. Kisses stretch marks, moles, scars. Nuzzles everywhere he can get to tickle with his stubble. Calls them every pet name in the book. Says how lucky he is to have landed someone like them.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Probably doesn't do it much after he takes over the Mystery Shack, reminds him of how lonely he is. When he was drifting, he does it to forget but only if he can't find a willing partner to spend the night with instead. After he gets Ford back and has a partner, he would do it but only to a, tease his partner or b, cope with them being gone for a few days. Prefers them on the phone for it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Definitely into edging/overstimulation. Stealth collars, makes his chest puff up in pride.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His office or in front of a mirror. Or his armchair. Or his car. He has a lot of favorites, sue him.

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

For most of his life, he's only in it for himself. Likes when his partners beg and make him feel important. Later, when with someone for a while, domestic shit gets him. They brought him a Pitt and kissed his cheek and he's hard???? Still really likes feeling like the “big man of the house” tho.

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

Doesn't like handcuffs on himself, they remind him of prison. Doesn't like if he can't see/hear/move his hands. Will never involve another in the bedroom. His self esteem is too low for that.

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

Prefers to receive I think. Again, makes him feel in control. Much rather use his hands on his partner so he can look at their face easier and see their expressions.

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

Generally rougher for sure. Sensual is a once in a while thing if he needs reassurance.

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

Often. Hell yes. He loves em. Wants to see how quickly he can get them off on a back closet, or his office, or in the shower. Power trip.

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

Experimenting sure, I could see him trying a lot. Risks, depends. Doesn't want the twins to see. Doesn't want Ford to see. Doesn't want anyone to see, really.

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

He’s good for one round himself, but he's more than willing to use his mouth or hands until his partner is satisfied. Doesn't mind if that takes a while. Would absolutely lay in bed all lazily while fingering them after he's finished.

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

Some of them?? More into using them on a partner than himself. Would love collars, nipple clamps, maybe a flog. Would be strangely intrigued if they had different kinds of dildos. (What shape is that?? Let me watch you try it)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Merciless tease. Whispers naughty shit all day. “I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you, babe, say it again? Louder?” Touches everywhere but where they want most.

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

He grunts and groans a lot. Will not shut up, talks for the entire time.

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

If you say he's a “good man” it breaks him. He still has a hard time remembering some things sometimes (can wake up missing pieces). Sometimes the bad things come back first and he needs kind words and to be reminded he's safe

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

Huge arms, very very strong. Prominent gut, obviously. His legs are skinnier than the rest of him. Very hairy. Brand on his back and maybe a few tattoos from his gang days, but nothing too serious.

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

Once he has a partner he loves? It's high. Wants them constantly, even if it's just their body near his. When he was drifting, I think it was only if he wanted a place to sleep or was really lonely. Sometimes he felt worse after.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He likes the after sex cuddles, so he stays up a bit. Will tease them about the sex in a rough, quiet voice.

[bosomybozophile]

You know I had to gif this

Source 39:19

[bosomybozophile]

Losing Bets

Disclaimer: So this is not a Ford fanfic because I need to show my man Stan some love. Sorry about that. Also, I’m going to post the whole thing just to tumblr and to ao3, so you won’t have to click on a link to read it. This is a smut btw

Summary: Reader bets that Stan can’t go a whole day without touching them. It’s a win win situation 😉

If there was one thing about Stan Pines, he was a handsy man. You had been dating him since you first got a job at the Mystery Shack working the check-out counter when Wendy wasn’t working. There wasn’t a day that went by where he didn’t squeeze your butt as he shuffled behind you or grab your hips while you restocked. You didn’t mind it one bit, though. Stan always made you feel sexy and loved. He was a good man, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. However, you also knew he was a gambling man, and you were looking for fun.

It was a slow day at the Mystery Shack, and you were putting snow-globes on display when you felt a hand snake around your waist. “Lookin’ good, sugar.” When you weren’t expecting Stan’s voice, it always managed to give you butterflies. You smiled and set the one in your hand onto the unsteady wooden shelf in front of you.

“You talking about the snow-globes or me?” you teased, looking over at him. His eyebrow raised as his hand moved from your waist down to your ass. He cupped one clothed cheek in his big hand.

“Both,” he answered. “I love these shorts on you. Can’t help myself.” He had a devilish grin on his face and was staring into your eyes. God, he was so handsome. He had an almost intoxicating aroma of cigars and cologne that you wanted to drown in.

You giggled and patted his chest. “Stan Pines, you’d still find a way to get your hands on me even if you were handcuffed.” You picked up the empty cardboard box at your feet and carried it to the check-out counter to break it down.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Stan purred, following behind you as you flattened the box. You shot him a look that caused him to chuckle.

“You need to behave,” you playfully chastised him, bending down behind the counter to get your to-do list out. You set it next to the register and checked off the box next to “Unpack Snow-globes.” “There we go, that was the last thing I had to do.”

Stan set his elbows on the counter across from you. “Ah, I actually added something else for you to do. Should be at the bottom,” Stan stated.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What? Really?” You picked up the notepad to see “Stan Pines” scrawled at the end of the lined paper with an empty box next to it.

Stan burst out laughing at his own joke. “See. I put my name there because I want you to do me,” he explained while you rolled your eyes.

“You’re so dumb.” You couldn’t help but laugh with him, though. “You know this reminds me; I have an idea for a bet. That is if your up to it.” Your eyes glimmered with mischief. You and Stan were always betting on trivial things, so this was a normal request.

“I’m all ears, dollface. Shoot.”

“I bet that you can’t go a whole day without touching me.”

Stan’s head perked up. “I better get something really good if I have to go the whole day without touching you,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

“If you can go a whole day without touching me, I will do that thing you’ve been begging me to do for an entire week,” you declared.

He gasped. “You mean you’re going to cook me stancakes naked every morning for a week?” he asked incredulously.

You chuckled. “Yup, but if I win you have to come to karaoke with me at Greasy’s every Friday for a month.” At that, Stan groaned and rubbed the part of his nose where his glasses sat.

“Jeeze, you had that one ready didn’t ya, kid?”

“Oh, yes,” you replied. “You accept the bet, old man?” You extended your hand towards him. He flashed that million-dollar smile at you before shaking your hand in agreement with the bet.

“Deal.”

                                                                                ~ The Next Day ~

You looked in the mirror at your outfit you had prepared to tempt the “Man of Mystery” himself. You were prepared to play dirty to get karaoke nights with Stan. You were wearing a tight t-shirt that was tucked into some daisy dukes. You also were wearing some boots that went up to your knees that you knew drove Stan wild. He was a confirmed leg man for sure. You fluffed up your hair and applied some light makeup. It was nothing too crazy but just enough to have you singing BABBA with him Friday night.

When you were satisfied with how you looked, you walked out of your bedroom and down the hall to the gift shop. Stan was giving a tour outside, so he had no idea what you looked like just yet. You went about your job as usual restocking the freezer, sweeping the floor, and pricing new items. It was about thirty minutes later when Stan entered the gift shop with a group of tourists behind him.

“Step into our gift shop and marvel at the quality of the Mystery Shack’s merchandise. Such beautiful craftmanship is deserving of your money, so make sure to spend a lot of it,” Stan’s voice echoed throughout the room. Some tourists “oohed” and “ahhed’ at the new shirts you had just hung up on the wall while the others piddled about the store. You sat at the register waiting for customers pretending not to notice Stan ogling you from the other side of the room.

When you finally decided to give him your attention, you gave him a coy smile and a little wave. His mouth was slightly agape, and his eyebrows were raised. He looked you up and down as he approached you.  It was go time; you got him.

“Y/N, you look smoking!” Stan exclaimed, his hands reaching for your hips. They stopped just inches away from them. He frowned and let his hands drop to his sides. “Damn. Forgot I can’t touch you.” He sounded disappointed. You were about to respond when one of the tourists got his attention by asking him about his newest taxidermy creation. This might be harder than you thought.

You exhaled through your nose in defeat. You couldn’t ponder on your plan too long, however, because a line of people had quickly formed in front of you. They held fistfuls of cash and novelties waiting to be paid for. It took a while, but finally everyone had picked an item they wanted and purchased them successfully. You couldn’t see him, but Stan had been eyeing you all over.

Once the last person left the shop and Stan reminded them about his “No Refunds” policy, he turned the “Open” sign on the door to “Closed.” You tilted your head at him and walked from behind the counter towards him. “Stan, why are you closing the shack? Are you-‘’ You were interrupted by him quickly turning around to face you and throwing you over his shoulder. You yelped in surprise as he bolted down the hall to your bedroom. You were not expecting this. He kicked the door open and dropped you on the bed.

“You like to play dirty, don’tcha?” Stan growled, grabbing your ankles and dragging you to him. “Dressing like that in front of me knowing I can’t touch ya. You’re such a tease.” His lips crashed into yours, his beard tickling your neck. You moaned into his mouth, letting your hands explore his thick, gray hair. The passionate kiss turned into a hot, open-mouthed one. Stan’s tongue slipped past your lips as you gripped his back. You grinded against him to get some friction going but to also see how hard he was. He was rock solid, his bulge pressing against your thigh. You wrapped your legs around his waist to bring him closer to you, earning a groan from him.

His lips parted from yours and he began to pepper kisses along your neck, stopping to suck at your collarbones. “Stan…” you whined.

“Use your words, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

You felt Stan’s lips curl into a smile. “That can be arranged. But these,” he tugged at your shorts, “will have to go.”

You looked him in the eyes. “Then why don’t you take them off for me?” you asked, grinning at him.

“With pleasure,” he responded. He removed your boots before undoing the zipper of your shorts and pulling them off. You lifted your hips up to help him get them fully off your body which revealed lacy red underwear. He wasn’t a huge fan of any particular color, but he loved red on you. He let out a low whistle. “Sweetheart…You shouldn’t have.” Stan’s tone caused blood to rush to your throbbing clit.

His hands slid up the side of your legs to grab your thighs. “God, I love these legs,” he whispered, his thumbs rubbing into your inner thighs. His long, calloused fingers were splayed over the side of them as he admired the way they dug into your flesh. He adored the softness of them.

“Can’t wait to have them around my head,” he breathed, moving his hands over your underwear and under your shirt. “But first, I gotta get this off. Been wanting to get my hands on these.” You blushed as he pulled your t-shirt over your head. You were revealed to be in a matching red bra that pushed your breasts up to make a delightful cleavage.

“Fuck,” Stan said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Come here, sexy.” His hands found your waist and guided you to his lap. He began peppering kisses on the top of your breasts as his hands fumbled to remove your bra from the back. He eventually succeeded causing the straps to fall down your shoulders and exposing your hard nipples. His pupils were dilated and filled with lust as he gazed at your body. He took his time, letting his eyes wander.

Stan slowly exhaled before letting his lips make contact with your skin once again. His tongue licked across your nipple gently and cupping your other breast. He massaged the tender flesh and let his thumb drag over the nipple as he began to suck the other one. You hissed, raking his hair between your fingers. He repeated the same action but on the opposite breast causing your hips to instinctively grind down on him. You were so turned on you were becoming light-headed.

Stans arms encased you as he lowered you onto the bed, kissing in a line down your stomach. You knew what was coming next, and butterflies were already beginning to form. “Mind if I take these off, doll?” Stan asked gruffly, his eyes meeting yours. You nodded your head in response. His fingers hooked around the band of your panties and removed your last garment of clothing. He began to bury his face against your thighs, giving them little pecks. Your eyes rolled back in your head from how his mouth and stubble felt against such a sensitive area. He then removed his head away from your core to look at you.

“Let’s see how much I’ve riled you up,” Stan said, letting one of his fingers enter you. He slid in easily due to your wetness. He let out a shaky breath. “Shit, baby.” He began to pump his finger back and forth. You cried out in pleasure, letting your nails rake along his muscular forearms.

“Oh, God, Stan,” you whimpered. If he kept going like this, you were going to cum before his dick was inside you.

“As hot as it is to see you like this, I just gotta taste ya.” Stan muttered, removing his finger and lowering his head back down to your bottom half. “I’ve been craving you all day.” His tongue slid into you as his big hands held your legs around his head. He moaned into you as you gripped the bedsheets behind you. One hand travelled upwards to play with your breast as he used the tip of his tongue to manipulate your clit. Stan continued to lap at you, bringing you closer and closer to an orgasm. He knew you were close too. You were bucking your hips on his nose to help relieve yourself. He loved it when you did that; he wanted you to use him to get all the way.

“I want you inside me,” you pleaded. “Please, babe.” Stan stopped what he was doing to give you a sloppy kiss. His mouth and nose were covered in your slick which was now partially on you. He stood up to unbutton his shirt while you scrambled to unbuckle his belt.

He laughed cockily. “Someone’s eager,” he teased, waggling his eyebrows.

You glared at him. “Shut up,” you retorted, taking off his boxers to see his painfully erect dick. You slid off the bed and onto your knees. You started to suck on his balls and rub along the bottom of them. Stan moaned loudly; his hands were now in your hair. You licked a stripe of the base of his dick to his tip before taking him into your mouth. You went slowly at first, creating a suction with your cheeks.

“Y/N…” Stan breathed, pushing your head onto him, wanting you to go faster. “Okay, okay. I can’t go anymore. I wanna feel you,” Stan interrupted, holding your face. “Put your boots on. Those were so damn sexy.” You chuckled and put on the shiny, leather boots from before. You were entirely naked other than your feet.

“Alright, hot stuff, you ready to ride the Stan O’ War?” Stan asked, throwing your legs on his shoulders. A boot was on either side of his head.

You giggled in response. “Yes, captain,” you answered.

He lined up with your entrance, and finally was inside you. He stretched you out painfully good. He wasn’t the longest, but, God, he was wide. That’s how you like it. He held onto your boots for leverage as he pounded into you. His breathing became ragged as he went back and forth inside you.

“You feel s’good,” he groaned. “So fucking good.”

His voice sent you over the edge making your body start to quake and pulse. Your legs shook around his head which, in turn, caused Stan to cum. Your convulsions were enough to make a “dead man come back to life” as Stan would describe. As you both rode out your highs, Stan laid on your chest as you twirled his hair. You laid in blissful silence until you remembered something.

“So…does this mean karaoke Friday?”

His face scrunched into his signature grumpy frown. “Can you just let me enjoy what’s left of my dignity until I lose it all?” You giggled at his answer as he laid his head back on your chest. You kissed the top of his head and leaned your head back on your pillow. Little did you know, he was more than happy to sing cheesy songs with you in public. He would just never let you know that.

[bosomybozophile]

the inherent homoeroticism of the relationship between god and devotee

[bosomybozophile]

Learning Moment - Satan x AFAB!Reader (18+)

CW: 18+ NSFW; reader has female anatomy, but no gender-specific terms used and no gender-specific clothing; early stages of a relationship; use of a vibrator; mutual masturbation (with toy and without); fingering; no pet names, no use of MC or Y/N. Satan is unfamiliar with human world gadgets 😆; slight differences in human vs. demon male anatomy but nothing pearl-clutching. Not proofread, this already got away from me enough as it is...

WC: 3,858

"What is this?"

You turn around and freeze when you see your boyfriend holding up your vibrator between thumb and forefinger. His brow is furrowed, aqua eyes staring at the thing with confusion.

"Where did you find that??" you demand.

He glances at you, his neutral gaze taking note of your obvious discomfort. "It was under your blanket."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit... you thought you'd put it away...

You reach out to grab it from him, but Satan retracts his arm, holding the object higher and out of your reach.

"Give it to me!" you demand, your face growing hotter with each passing second.

"Tell me what it is, first."

"It's nothing!" you exclaim. "Just some... earth thing. It's not important."

"Really?" Satan turns his back to you and holds it closer to his face for inspection, his hands turning the object over and over. "Then why are you so keen on getting it back?"

"B-because!" you reply defensively. "It's... personal!"

But Satan half ignores you as he sniffs it. "It smells like you..." he half turns to look over his shoulder at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Do you use this to pleasure yourself?"

"WHA-" you freeze, eyes wide and hands shaking. You clench them before covering your face.

You want to die, to stop existing this very instant. Let a hole open up and swallow you whole...

Satan's eyes widen at your reaction, and he lets out a gentle chuckle. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about... I just want to know what it is."

Your words are muffled by your hands. "Come on, you really don't know? You have to be teasing me."

"We have sex toys, but there are some differences between our world and yours." He talks about it so casually, all the while his eyes grazing over the smooth surface, eyeing the size. "Ours are... bigger."

His tone holds a hint of concern, his eyebrows furrowed.

"They're not all like this," you say defensively. "Some of ours are big. This just... isn't one of them."

"But you enjoy this one?" Satan asks.

"Why do you sound so worried??" you ask.

"Of course I'm worried!" he huffs, his cheeks flushing pink. "If this is the size that you like, then we might have a problem when we finally..."

Your eyes widen in understanding. "OH." Then you repeat the word, drawing it out as the pieces fall into place. "Ohhh...."

Your humiliation subsides and you cross your arms over your chest. "That's not... I mean, it can be, but it's more about what it does."

Satan's eyes widen in curiosity and he stares at the object in his hand. "What does it do?"

He shakes it a little and pokes at it, hoping to activate whatever spell he thinks makes it work.

You bite your lower lip in amusement. "You, uh..." - you wiggle your finger at it in a circular motion - "have to turn the bottom... like a dial..."

Satan turns it over in his hand and turns the black base. It immediately begins vibrating in his hand and he jumps slightly, before his eyes widen even further in understanding.

"It's called a vibrator," you explain. "You put it on the, uh... the clitoris, and uh... yeah."

Satan's mouth curles into a small half smirk. "Yeah, I figured that much out... I'm not exactly a virgin, you know."

You put your hands up in playful defense. "Hey, I never said you were... but maybe demon and human anatomy is different for all I know."

It wasn't like you'd gotten very far yet with him to find out... you always managed to get interrupted whenever things got steamy in his room or yours.

Satan gives you a side glance that makes your spine melt. "We're not."

He states it so matter-of-factly, that it has you biting your lip to stifle a whimper.

"Hmm," he hums as he looks back at the still-vibrating toy. "I'm always impressed by human ingenuity. Our toys can do these sorts of things too, but it's different. More spells and chemical reactions, pheromones and aphrodisiacs."

Satan finally pulls his attention away from the vibrator, and puts it entirely, completely on you, aqua eyes trapping you like sunlight beneath the water.

"Show me," he says.

It's a statement, but feels like a question, the way it always does with him. He's always been direct, and yet he always leaves you room to refuse.

But even so, you blanch, your brain left lightheaded as the blood drains from it to pool low in your stomach.

"W-What?" you stutter.

Satan turns off the device and steps forward to hand it to you, closing the distance between you in the same move. What little air remains between you feels electric.

"Show me," he repeats. "I'd like to see how it's meant to be used."

There's a momentary lapse of silence as your brain glitches on what he's asking of you. Your mouth opens and closes a few times before you finally find your voice, hiding behind the dry lump in your throat.

"W-what? Why? You pretty much already know..."

Satan keeps his eyes on you as he takes your hand and turns it palm up to place the vibrator into it, the cold plastic warmed by his touch.

"Being told and witnessing it are two different things," he explains, eyes dark and cheeks flushed. "If this brings you pleasure, then I want to learn about it."

He puts his forehead to yours as his arms wrap around your waist affectionately. "Please," he adds quietly.

Satan, you realize, can be very persuasive when he wants to be... it's not a side others usually see, but then again...

He's not exactly trying to get into anyone else's pants.

You let out a short laugh. "Okay."

Satan's lips curl into a pleased smile.

"But..." you continue. "...you have to kiss me."

Satan's smile widens, and he tucks the knuckle of his finger beneath your chin to bring you closer. "Whatever you want."

He kisses you, softly at first, gently as he always does as if he's afraid he'll hurt you. His tongue draws against your lips, wet and warm, and you open your mouth to him, letting him in.

Every nerve was already awake and waiting, ever since he asked those two simple yet insane words.

Show me.

But now the nerves are singing like a siren's call, luring you into drowning in the presence of him.

Your arms wrap around his neck, and his arms pull you against him, his fingers splayed across your back and caressing in soothing strokes.

As he kisses you, he turns you so your bed is behind you, and begins to walk your backwards. You don't fall back when your thighs touch it... Satan's arms around you keep you against him, as he lowers you gently into the soft bedding.

You scoot back towards your pillows as you lead him into your bed with your mouth, your hands, your legs opening to make room for him.

Satan settles himself between your parted thighs, the denim of his jeans pressing against your own. The pressure is enough to pull a moan from your lips, and Satan responds with a hum to match, as his body covers yours.

Each movement and transition between you is fluid, carried on a tide of longing that neither of you have had the opportunity to fully pursue. Your leg hooks around the back of his thigh automatically, your hips beginning to roll to a rhythm your body demands. Satan's mouth leaves yours to plant wet open-mouth kisses down the curve of your jaw and into the soft pulse of your neck as your head tilts back. Your mouth is parted as breathy gasps bloom from your chest and your fingers tangle themselves into his golden strands. Satan groans, his hand trailing the side of your body from thigh to breast, his hand slipping beneath your shirt to cup the warm, soft flesh--

"Aren't you supposed to show me something?"

He's whispered the words against your neck, and they bury themselves into the small indents left by his teeth.

You suck air into your lungs, your wide eyes staring at the ceiling. You can't seem to find your voice, your thoughts far too muddled beneath the pleasure you feel.

You feel the weight of him leave your body, the cold air rushing in to take its place, and suddenly he's in your field of view.

He's gorgeous, chaotic. Hair tousled messily, a tainted golden halo. His irises are nearly drowned out by black pupils that spark with latent, electric magic. His lips glisten wet, his canines slightly sharper than you remember them, and he's smiling down at you, cheeks flushed in the color of affection, skin lightly sheened in the sweat of desire.

Satan has one hand braced into the mattress to hold his weight as he hovers, while his other slowly slides down beneath your shirt, his touch hot against your skin. Down, down, over your ribs, covering your belly, and now he's at the boundary of your jeans, his single hand working apart the button. It sticks, the denim unyielding, and he glances down at it with a glare.

"Curse this thing..." he growls. You giggle, and finally it comes undone, and he's returning his eyes to your face, victorious. "Got it."

You wiggle yourself out of your pants, leaving your underwear on. Satan helps, leaning back to tug them off your ankles and toss them aside.

He leans over you again to kiss you, long and slow, his tongue invading your mouth, savoring. As he does so, you feel his hand press the toy into your open palm.

Then he leans back, perching himself back on his heels as he keeps his seat between your open legs. The air in your room is cold, but Satan's hands are warm as they rest against your thighs, waiting patiently.

Well, not exactly patiently... a moment later, he takes the vibrator from your hand and turns it on, and then puts it back into your hand with a satisfied nod, his eyes glittering with eagerness.

You can't help but giggle at him.

"Are you really that excited to see me do this?" you tease.

"Why would I not be?" he asks back.

You bite your lower lip again. Satan watches the action intently.

"It drives me crazy when you do that, you know..." he mutters.

Your mouth curls into a grin and you slowly move the vibrator gently, sensually down the center of your belly from solar plexus to navel. Then you let it travel further, past the edge of your underwear, over the soft mound of venus to finally slip over the edge. Your breath hitches slightly as it passes your clit, but you keep going further, until it's gently humming against your covered entrance. God, you're already so wet, you realize... you can feel it soaking through the panties, coating your pussy lips.

You hum in pleasure and your eyes flutter closed. Satan's hands tighten slightly on the meat of your thighs then loosen.

Slowly, gently, you circle your vibrator over the fabric of your underwear, teasing yourself, avoiding your clit entirely. You had no doubt that giving it any attention would send you quickly over the edge, and the last thing you wanted was to disappoint Satan by coming too quickly.

The slow and gentle stroking turns into gentle pressures against your hole, the wet fabric acting as a barrier, even as it slips and slides with ease. You feel his hand leave your right thigh and you open your eyes just enough to see Satan's gaze trained on your pussy, his hand stroking his stiff cock through his too-tight jeans. His cheeks are flushed, his mouth parted prettily, and you can tell that he's struggling to keep himself quiet.

"Take off your belt," you whisper.

Satan's eyes meet yours, wide with surprise, pupils blown wide with lust. He does as you command, his fingers quickly undoing the buckle and yanking the white leather from the loops to land on the floor with a clink.

His hand is back on his covered cock, stroking the shaft with a firm grip that has the muscles of his thighs tensing against your own. His human form flickers out for a brief moment, and you catch the glimpse of sharp, curled horns and the flicking black movement of his tail behind him. But then it's gone just as fast, his human form returning.

Fuck he's so hot.

You moan as a small wave of pleasure makes your cunt throb. You use your free hand to pull aside your underwear, finally letting yourself be exposed to Satan's heavy gaze.

The air leaves his lungs on a heavy breath of "oh fuck" and once again his demon form flashes, stronger this time, lingering for a few seconds before being tightly locked away out of sheer willpower.

You put your toy to your swollen pussy and it glides against it easily, coated in slick. Your hole flutters a needy spasm, the band of muscles between your legs tensing to the point of aching. You can feel your pulse in your clit, and you want to whimper, to take what you want selfishly.

But Satan is in front of you, his expression pained with arousal, his jaw clenched as he stares down at your sex, and you realize that even though he's not in you, even though he's not touching you, that this is still something you're sharing together.

"Satan..." you beg softly. "You can touch yourself... it's okay..."

Satan's strokes halt, and he stares up at you for a moment, hesitant.

He swallows around a dry throat, his voice slightly graveled. "A-are you sure...? I don't think I can keep my human form if I do..."

You smirk. "I like your demon form. It's hot."

Satan's mouth turns down into a small frown and he averts his gaze. "No, I mean... it might be a little... different..."

Oh. Oh.

He doesn't want to scare you, you realize. Your gaze softens and you tilt your head slightly.

"It's okay. I promise."

There's no more words, just a heavy gaze of uncertainty being transformed into gratitude. Then, he licks his lips and undoes the button and zipper of his jeans, and shoves his hands into the waist-band of his boxer briefs. A heavy sigh escapes his lips and he leans his weight back onto his free hand behind him as his head tilts back. His human form shimmers away until only his demon form is left, and now you can appreciate the parts of himself that he usually keeps hidden from you, parts that have only ever come out when he's angry.

Never when he's aroused or happy.

You watch his adam's apple bob when he swallows, and you nearly want to cry with how sexy he is, how he doesn't even realize it, and how fucking lucky you are that he's yours.

With a single stroke, he pulls his cock free from the confines of his pants, and you suck air deep into your lungs at the sight of it. It isn't entirely human, but not entirely monster either. Gorgeous like the rest of him, the tip flushed, the size manageable. The part that stands out, however, is the darker coloration and smooth ridges along his shaft. His hand moves over it firmly, the tip leaking precum, and you swallow at the thought of what it would feel like inside you, those ridges rubbing against your sensitive walls...

It is a cock made for pleasure, and now you're strongly considering throwing the vibrator out the window.

No wonder he was so worried before...

And you would have, too, if Satan asked it of you. But instead, he does what you don't expect.

"Keep going," he mutters. His hips are jerking into his hand now, and you realize he's close.

"If I do, I'm gonna cum..." you whimper. "I don't think I can hold it back anymore."

Satan let's out a soft chuckle, the corner of his mouth curling upwards to flash his sharp canine.

"Don't you want to cum?"

"I do, but..."

"But what?"

You lean up and reach your hand to him, and Satan grants your request by sitting up and giving you his free hand. "I want to feel you..." you whisper. You take his hand and place it palm up against your heated, wet cunt. "Here."

A puff of air escapes his lungs, coating your lips. "Fuck..."

Satan freezes his own strokes, withholding his release to help you through yours. He takes your hand that's still holding your vibrator and puts it gently against your clit. "Hold that there."

You listen, and his hand abandons yours, fingers slipping down between your legs until they're kissing your entrance. You're fighting every impulse, every nerve, withholding your impending orgasm even as the thrumming against your swollen clit sings like a tuning fork, and you're the glass, ready to shatter.

"How many fingers do you want?" he mutters. His face is inches from yours, his eyes staring into yours, strands of his messy hair sticking to his damp forehead.

You swallow as your nose brushes against his, and it takes an extra ten whole seconds to process his question. "Um... two?"

He kisses you then, his mouth capturing yours sensually, lingering and slow as his fingers push into you. They glide in easily, your body wet and ready for him, and there's not a hint of discomfort, only relief. Sweet, sweet relief.

He glides his fingers out and back in, and your breath shudders within the cage of your chest. He does it again, his lips pulling away just enough so he can watch your expression, gauge your pleasure.

"You like it?" he asks, the huskiness of his voice nearly hiding his worry.

You nod.

But Satan is perceptive, and can tell that while you're enjoying it, that there's something more... something you want...

"Tell me," he whispers against your lips. "Tell me what you want me to do."

Your free hand is clutching his shoulder now, nails digging into his shirt that somehow never made its way off his body.

"I..." you swallow, and withdraw the vibrator just slightly. "I want you to curl your fingers... when you're pulling them out..."

You feel his lips curl into a smile against your own and he kisses you.

"Like this?"

He does it, and that familiar high note of pleasure cuts outward from between your legs, and you moan loudly into his mouth.

"Yes! Yes, just like that," you beg.

Another moan as he repeats the action. Once he's confident he has it figured out, he begins stroking his neglected cock again.

But then suddenly, a heavy silence falls like a blanket, and you quickly realize why...

"Oh shit..." you groan.

Satan pauses, confused as he stares at your now lifeless vibrator. "What happened?"

"The battery died...." you toss it aside and give a pained laugh followed by a frustrated growl.

Satan stares for a moment, then smiles mischeviously.

"Do you know how to touch yourself?" as he's asking, his fingers begin pushing back into you, slow and gentle, until he's knuckle deep.

You suck in air, and force your answer out through clenched teeth. "Of course I know how."

"Then maybe we don't need it this time..."

He curls his fingers for you, and your back arches as you gasp.

"Uhh, no.... no we don't."

"Good." He plants a kiss to your lips. "Then touch yourself so I can watch."

Oh fuck...

You lay back against the bed as your hand dips between your legs, fingers finding your swollen clit with ease. You begin to expertly roll tight circles over the sensitive nerves, and within seconds, your thighs are tensing, legs shaking.

Satan keeps his fingers in you, his pace following the one you're setting for yourself with each press of your fingers. His other hand is pumping his cock again, and his breaths are turning ragged.

"Can I cum on you?" he asks, his voice strained.

Another wave of pleasure jolts as your impending orgasm rapidly builds. Your head is pressed back into your pillow, chin lifting, back arching as the tension overtakes every inch of your body until it feels like ropes made of fire binding you, restricting you.

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes please."

"I'm close," he mutters through clenched teeth. You can feel the vibrations of how rapidly he's fisting his cock, the motion shaking the mattress. "I'm not cumming without you."

Your eyes open to look at him, and the sight of him all messy and suffering in his pleasure of you is the push you need. The tight band finally snaps, and you're moaning, gasping, your fingers working yourself vigorously while Satan's thrust in and out, fingers caressing that sensitive spot on each swift withdrawal.

Then his fingers withdraw and you feel his weight shift, his thighs lifting until he's on his knees between your legs. Immediately comes the hot, wet sensation of his cum spilling onto your fingers, your clit, your cunt. His moans are rough and guttural, nearly animalistic, and you're reminded that he's a demon, all inhuman strength and tightly guarded rage, coating your sex in his seed. It only turns you on more, and you ride out your orgasm, your fingers rubbing your clit vigorously, mixing his cum with your juices, as if you could imprint him onto you, carry him with you always.

Finally, the crushing, fiery waves ebb for both of you, and you're left with your cunt slightly aching and spasming with aftershocks. Satan is spent as well, sitting back on his haunches. You open your eyes to look at him, and you realize he's staring at your pussy, now covered in his seed, underwear still yanked to the side, now stretched out and ruined. You can feel a dribble of his cum sliding down your lips, and he gingerly takes his finger and rubs the droplet against your sensitive clit. You suck air in through your teeth, your back arching at the overstimulation, and he smiles.

He leans over you and lays his body onto yours, allowing you to feel the softness of his cock against your body. He kisses you tenderly, and you reciprocate as your arms lazily wrap around his neck.

"Thank you for this," he whispers against your mouth. "It was very... educational."

You chuckle at him. "You're a quick learner."

"Well, I am pretty smart..." he grins. "But... there are some things that can't be taught through books."

"So we'll have to practice more, then. So you can study..."

Satan hums at you, as he stares down at you, his cheek propped in his hand. "Hm. Yes, lots of studying."

You giggle and kiss him. Then he rolls over to his back to lay next to you, his eyes staring at the ceiling.

"Although..." he continues, "I think next time I want to hold the vibrator."

[bosomybozophile]

Old men

[bosomybozophile]

i'm obsessed with your writing and i have a little request...

could you write something about morning sex with shane?? 🫣

take your time of course. thank you!

yes i absolutely can.

contains ; nsfw. purely smut. drabble. fem!farmer. morning sex (duh). quickie. kind of implied newer relationship. v brief fingering (sorta). lotus <3. unprotected sex. creampie. he’s a little selfish in this 🤷‍♀️. lots of dialogue. read w caution cus it was the middle of the night when i wrote this and…u know what that means.

note ; wrap it before u tap it amen

“shane—“ you murmur through swollen lips, hardly pulling away despite the verbal protests you can’t even manage.

propped with one hand on the mattress, bent forward just to meet him where he stays in bed, you’re standing half-dressed next to your boyfriend who is doing his absolute best job at distracting you.

your attempt to hold your ground crumbles piece by piece the more his lips work against yours, dazedly. his fingers buried deep in your hair, planted at the base of your neck, with no avail to let you go. not after you’ve already stepped away once to get dressed after your annoying alarm woke him up too.

“mmf, sha—ne,” your mumble hardly managed to pass through his lips.

he’s shaking his head slightly, the same moment he leans back just enough for you to be pulled forward, balancing yourself with your knee pressing against the mattress. good, he’s halfway there.

“shh,” he stubbornly breathes, his free hand finding the small of your back.

he knows he’s not strong enough to pull you entirely into him, so when all of your weight finally lifts off the floor and you’re kneeling over him on the same sheets you were just in minutes ago—he knows you’re not trying nearly as hard as your words make it seem.

your half-buttoned jeans, bare chest aside from your singular cotton bra somehow has him entranced. his hand pinches your skin, peeking his fingertips underneath your jeans.

“what’s gotten into you this morning?” you sigh, a short whimper spilling from your throat when he sucks desperately on your upper neck.

“just—five minutes…what’s five minutes?” he pants, so depraved in a singular breath it sends goosebumps straight to your lower stomach.

“five, huh?” you tease, hardly managing a chuckle before his tongue against your skin causes you to choke out a moan.

he grazes his hand down your ass, until he presses hard against your thigh. you don’t even bother fighting back as he pulls your leg over his, situating you in his lap.

maybe out of curiosity, but mostly just to be an even bigger tease now that he’s properly riled you up—your hand falls to press against his boxers to feel exactly what’s got him acting like this so early.

he groans, breathy and quiet, but it has your lips pulling into a smirk.

“what was it?” you egg on, raising your chin to give him more room to work with, “just the sight of me in my underwear, or what?”

“can you blame me?” he fervently sighs, and you can practically feel his smile against your skin as he works lower.

the hand that was held against your neck, has long since made purchase with his other, pressing against your back to bring you closer.

your own hand presses atop his shoulder to hold balance, fingertips warm from his skin.

and maybe it was because of all the heat he’s taking from your words, your actions, but he’s not even shy to slip his hand underneath the rough fabric of your jeans to give your ass a squeeze.

you continue to counter like ping-pong, gently squeezing his hard-on over his boxers.

he can’t hold back the stifled groan no matter how hard he tries. his body tenses against you, and his throat bobs as he swallows.

“don’t be a tease.” his voice is low, almost a whine, lips grazing the mark he made on your neck.

you know exactly how horny he is by his needy tone. it’s rare he ever gives in like this, he’s such a fan of making it seem like you’re the one who’s so depraved, even if he starts it all.

“then fuck me already, i have work to do.” the vulgarity of your comment has his tongue jutting out the side of his cheek, catching his scoff between.

you don’t really have to ask twice in this instance, despite him usually making you.

his fingers graze against the hem of your underwear, nothing particularly sexy as you’d think, but—well, panties are panties.

“yes ma’am,” he whispers, pulling away from your skin to look you in the eyes. he knows exactly what he’s doing, showing it with subtle upturn of his lips, even more so when he finally dips his hand under the layers of fabric and the rough pad of his middle finger presses against the bud that makes your breath hitch.

he’s focused on you, his finger delving quicker then he usually does, but he’s also hornier then he usually is.

you sigh, shoulders relaxing, you lean into him a little. his fingers doesn’t stray further from your clit—another thing he usually doesn’t do. when he wants to rile you up, he’s going in.

but you remain satisfied with this, mainly because you’ve already lost a chunk of time you could be using for work.

whatever, what’s one late start?

“is this alright?” he asks, mostly asking if he’s touching you properly, but also just genuine wondering.

“yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes, “feels good. give me a minute.” and he knows that’s for you to warm up.

so he does, always loving the way you look when he’s doing you right. your lips are glossy (probably his doing) even before you peek your tongue out to wet them.

there’s a quiet, faint whimper that sounds from your throat, pulling a smirk onto his cheeks like always. his teeth press against his own lip on instinct, eyes dragging down to the mark he made on your neck, then your cleavage, down to where his hand sits under your clothes.

your hips rock once, humming, “okay, that’s good.” you pull away all too quickly—to which he instinctively frowns—until he realizes you’re repositioning to tug off your pants.

it’s the same instinct when he squeezes his erection similarly to how you did previously, dragging the fabric of his boxers under his fingertips along his length while you slip out of your jeans.

you don’t even bother being a tease, and frankly he doesn’t care either—throwing both items of clothing off in one go.

he looks at you like he’s ravenous—to which he may as well be.

you reposition over him like you just were, and he thinks you’re going to drive him crazy, so crazy he might finish right then and there as you wrap your hand underneath his jaw, tilting his head up for a messy kiss.

your other hand tugs down his boxers just enough to free his length. you wrap your hand around him, thumb dragging along his slit and he shudders at the feeling, his breath escaping into your mouth.

“something tells me it’s not going to be five,” you remark with a teasing lilt.

“probably not.” he sighs honestly. even the sound of your laugh makes him twitch.

you lift your hips, angling yourself over him. he sighs when you slowly lower, head lulling back against the headboard.

you sink yourself down, eyebrows pinching at the feeling only because you’re still a little underprepared, but it’s not enough to hurt.

“fuck,” he breathes, seething at the feeling of you tightening around him. his hands don’t hesitate to wrap around your back, tugging you against his chest.

you stay still longer then he likes, and he has to fight himself not lift his hips.

until you do, and he sighs again, lips pursing and his eyes close. he can feel your hand give his shoulder a gentle squeeze, your forearm resting against his other so your fingers can ravel through his hair.

he starts talking before he can even stop himself, “i had a dream about you last night.”

it’s obvious what kind of dream he means, that you don’t even have to ask. the revelation flatters you.

you look down at him, lowering your hips once more, almost as quickly as you lift them, starting a solid rhythm. he groans under his breath.

“yeah? why didn’t you wake me up?”

his head rolls to the side, lidded eyes opening his gaze at your hips. “we haven’t really talked about that yet.”

“i don’t mind.” you hum, a short moan slips the back of your throat and you roll your hips a little, eliciting the same reaction from him.

“i will next time. i dream about you a lot.” he admits easily. his gaze drags up your body again, stopping at your bra and he thinks he wishes it was on the floor like your other clothes.

his fingers dig down into the fat of your ass, rolling your hips forward once more on his own. he can’t help the vocal response, you stifle yours with a thought, “like what?”

“like this.” he answers quickly, swallowing a breath.

the pace you held, previously slow, quickens at his words. his eyes stay lidded, half-focused on the soft bounce of your breasts, the other half lost in your movements making him progressively weaker.

you let out a short chuckle, and it causes his attention to turn back to your lips.

“nn—yeah, me too.”

he looks at you like he needs to know more, head tilting straight.

“you’re good at eating me out,” you answer with a shameless laugh, continuing to make his erection twitch inside of you.

you roll your hips forward once more, this time a little more practiced. your moan is heavenly, and if he wasn’t already letting out the same sound from your action, then he is just from hearing yours. “yeah? you think so?”

“i know, i was surprised too.” you jest with a smile.

he grips your thighs tighter, pulling your hips down while lifting his at that. “hush,” he shakes his head, amused when his reaction has you letting out a whine.

the same whine that made him realize he’s not going to last much longer.

while he’s at it, he starts to use his minimal strength to continue controlling your pace. it makes his chest heave a little.

“sh—it,” he shudders under his breath. you fall forward, lips brushing against his and your breaths even out together. “i might cum.”

which is a lie. he will, he knows this. you do too, because you scoff at his attempt, nothing more then a shake of your head.

you’re a little grateful he’s taken more control in this, it feels good when he lifts your hips and you roll forward to stimulate your clit, instead of doing both.

he purses his lips, throat closing, eyebrows pinching, there’s a torn groan that he croaks out, sending goosebumps down your spine. you drop your forehead onto his shoulder.

he starts to nod slowly, pressing his hands against your ass to drag your hips one last time, before he uses his strength to stop them entirely.

“nngh, fuck me,” he breathes, quiet and right in your ear it almost could’ve been enough to send you over the edge.

he stills, and you’ve memorized every one of his reactions so well to know he’s cumming inside of you—thighs twitching just once and his head falls against the headboard.

you don’t miss the sight; quickly looking up to see his eyebrows pinch. to see him swallow multiple times. to see his teeth bite down on his lip while he tries his best to stifle his last moan—always a task he fails time and time again.

you hardly let him catch his breath.

“is that a new record?”

and he’s too fucked out to even poke back. he nods his head, giving in. “i think so.”

his willingness makes your pride soar, smirk on your cheeks.

you lift your hips after a moment longer, pressing a gentle kiss against the corner of his lips whilst you do so. still resting on your back, his limbs lay weaker which disallows him from not letting you go.

he opens his eyes to see you standing up, and he’s instantly frowning when you start to step into your panties.

“you’re not gonna let me finish you off?” he almost groans, throwing his arm over his forehead.

“save it for tonight, i have work to do.”

[bosomybozophile]

erm um purrhaps 40 (don’t give me that look) and 34 (i’m afraid i can no longer remain professional) with my beloved Papa II? i’ve been craving him sm teehee 💖💖 (u can do just one of them if you’d prefer ^^)

"Have you finished addressing the envelopes for today?" Secondo asks, barely looking up from his own legal note pad as his hand flies across the page, finishing his notes for the day. You nod to yourself, content to watch him in his natural habitat until he clears his throat and looks to you. "I can't hear you when you nod, Sister. Have you finished?" His tone is stern enough to snap you out of your reverie, flushing slightly.

"Yes, Papa! All labeled and placed in the outgoing mail slots appropriately." You nod again and flash him a smile, pushing back from your desk and crossing one leg over the other-- the perfect show of a Sister who's already finished her duties... and is ready for recreation, instead.

"Don't give me that look," he grumbles, turning back to his own work and shaking his head. Still, you can see the smallest hint of an upturned smile cross his skeleton-painted lips. Another moment later and he looks at you again, his eyes lingering on your long legs, crossed and swinging as you wait. "Don't give me that look..." he says again, this time allowing his gaze to slip to your feet, where you've already started toeing off your shoes.

"Or what?" you ask, a hint of sultriness creeping into your voice. It's been weeks now since he's taken you after work, and you can practically feel your restlessness vibrating on your skin.

"Or I'm afraid I can no longer remain professional." Secondo's hand goes to his throat where he loosens his tie slightly, pulling it away from his neck. The clatter from your heels falling to the floor draws his attention again and he swallows hard. Keeping your eyes on his mismatched ones, you swing your legs until they're on the desk, arching your foot and gliding a hand down your stockinged leg.

"It's been so long, Papa... Don't you want to relieve some stress with me?" Another drag of your hand up your leg, pulling your skirt up slightly until he can just barely see the peek of red panties and you lean back in your chair. "I could certainly go for a certain type of massage right now, you know."

"Mm?" Papa raises his brow at you, grip tightening on his ink pen as he does so. You bring your hands up your own body, surreptitiously squeezing your breasts together and rolling your shoulders towards him-- it's absolutely shameless, but you're beyond subtleties at this point. Another moment later and a button pops open on your blouse, completely unintended, of course.

"Papa-"

"Sister." Papa cuts you off, pushing his chair back from his desk and standing, leaning heavily on his desk as he looks over at you, a certain headiness in his eyes and dominance in his breathing. "If you keep behaving this way, I might just have to bend you over that desk that you're rubbing yourself on." A flush creeps into your cheeks but you level your gaze with his before crooking a finger at him-- a dare, then.

The drag of his chair on the stone floor feels loud as he straightens himself to his full height, moving the few steps to your desk and towering over you. His eyes narrow, the white one piercing into your own before he leans closer, putting his hands on the arms of your chair and boxing you in. Papa stands still for a moment, allowing you to squirm under his intense gaze and menacing presence, shrinking beneath his stature and sudden all-consuming attenion.

"You want this?" he asks dangerously, his voice low and rumbling from his chest.

"More than anything," is your only answer before his lips take yours.

[bosomybozophile]

i think peter is turned on by domesticity <3

cws for fem reader.

-

He can’t help but feel this deep hunger starting in his belly as he watches you flit around in the kitchen; hair sticking in odd directions, one of his old band t-shirts hugging your figure, mismatch socks on your feet, and a white pore strip placed over the bridge of your nose.

You’re not doing anything but trying to decide between putting jelly on your bagel or cream cheese, softly muttering to yourself as you tap your foot against the tiled floor, but there’s a warm flush in his cheeks and a throbbing in his boxers as he sits at the kitchen island, chin propped up on his fist as his eyes rake over your form.

“…think I’m gonna go with the jelly, actually.” You finally decide, and then you’re padding over to the fridge, a low hum filtering through the kitchen as you pull it open and bend to look inside. Peter groans at the peek of your panties between your plush thighs, the pink cotton practically screaming out for him to push it to the side and get a peek at what’s hidden behind it. “Annnnd we’re out of jelly. Cream cheese it is.”

You straighten up with the small tub in your hand, and then you’re moving over to where he’s sitting and placing all your items down onto the surface of the counter. “Do you want one, too, or no?” Your eyes flick up to his, eyebrows furrowing when you make out his flushed skin, and then you’re rounding the counter so you can stand in front of him. “God, you are red, Peter. Are you sick?” You place one hand on his thigh to steady yourself as you raise up on the balls of your feet, the other moving to touch his forehead. “Yuck, you’re clammy. No fever though. What’s up with you?”

“You smell good.” He mumbles, ignoring your question entirely, and he pinches at the end of your shirt, stretching the material down, the fabric pulling taut against your breasts that are free from a bra. He admires the shape of them before letting the material go.

“Cocoa butter.” You smile, the gleam of your retainer catching his eye, and Peter groans again as he drops his forehead against your shoulder, arms tightly winding around your waist as he pulls you between his legs. “Peter, what is up with—oh.” He turns his face into your neck, cool lips pressing open mouthed kisses to the warm skin there. You swat at his shoulder. “Absolutely not—you’re gonna sweat off my pore strip just like last time. These aren’t cheap, y’know.”

“I won’t.” You kiss at your teeth in response. “I won’t.” A hand travels down your back until he’s palming at your ass, fingers sinking into the soft flesh. “I just want a taste, that’s all. Nothing major.” His teeth gently nip at your skin, fingers slipping down lower, lower, until the tips of them are brushing against the outline of your cunt in your panties and feeling the growing wetness forming.

“But . . .” He pushes up, fabric getting stuck between your puffy lips, and then he’s dragging his fingers up until he reaches your clit, basking in the way you sigh his name and tug at his hair. “O-Okay—b-but nothing major! I have work in a bit.”

“Nothing major.” He echoes, slipping out of his stool to drop down to his knees in front of you, lidded gaze looking up at you as he licks his lips. He taps your leg, signaling for you to lift it, and you hook it over his shoulder, hands moving to steady yourself on the counter.

His gaze drops back down to your cunt, heat from emanating from it, scent heady and strong in his nose. Saliva pools in his mouth, and he hooks a finger into the seat of your panties and slowly tugs it to the side, a drawn out moan bubbling up from his throat as he watches strings of your arousal stretch between the fabric and the fat lips of your cunt.

“So fucking pretty.” It’s like he’s in a trance as he leans forward and kisses where your slit begins, right where he knows your clit is tucked away and hidden from view, and you suck in a sharp breath, a whine of his name on your lips.

He thinks you’ll be a bit late to work today, and he also thinks he’ll have a few new boxes of pore strips waiting for you when you get home.

[bosomybozophile]

Praise kink with Lucifer 🥺

I wasn’t sure if you meant that lucifer has the praise kink, or mc, so I’ll do one for both alskjdakls

Lucifer:

will vehemently deny he has a praise kink

he doesn’t need anyone to give him praise

he feels that he only does whatever needs to be done--things that are naturally his responsibility, or things about himself he’s never thought on twice--so there’s no need for compliments

however...mc’s compliments and praise make him a bit flustered, because he knows that mc is being genuine when they say things like:

“you’re such a good brother; really someone they can look up to”

“do you know you’re so goddamn handsome that it’s kind of infuriating?”

“I really am so proud of you for coming this far”

and when mc notices how their comments affect lucifer, they decide to take it a step further

(nsfw below)

apparently praising lucifer while his dick is in your hand or mouth is a sure-fire way to get him blushing

“mmm~ you’re so perfect. really something crafted by the gods. how did I end up getting so lucky?”

“you’re always working so hard--let me love you, and make love to you, and help relieve your stress. I want to help you feel as good as you make me feel.”

honestly lucifer more often than not only gives into mc using praise against him in a sexual fashion when he’s stressed out. bc despite himself, their words really do help to ease the tension from his body.

MC:

Lucifer becomes aware that mc has a thing for praise the minute he places his hand on their hair, and tells them fondly that he’s proud of them for studying hard for that last exam

mc immediately turns pink, becoming flustered, and a light bulb clicks on above lucifer’s head

from then on, he makes it a point to feed mc cute little praises whenever warranted

“You look very cute today...the outfit suits you.”

“thank you for the delicious meal. your cooking is wonderful. And if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to sample more food from the human world. I’m sure you can do any recipe justice.”

Of course, a simple finger under mc’s chin, prolonged eye contact, and a “you did well” or “i’m proud of you” works just as well.

He doesn’t necessarily consider using such a weakness against mc in the bedroom until mc is on their knees sucking his dick 

(nsfw below)

“you know just how to pleasure me, mc. you look so perfect, servicing me like this”

and if mc is on top he’ll be praising them for their dutiful efforts while riding him

“such a good little human. riding me even as your legs shake. how did I get so lucky?”

so yeah, least to say, Lucifer definitely weaponizes mc’s praise kink and uses it against them far too often

[bosomybozophile]

got any of that cirrus smut up your sleeve?

Sure do, baby.

NSFW below.

She’s not like any human or ghoul you’ve ever had. 

Not when she’s like this.

Her cold, callous facade drops once the sun has set and she’s alone with you and she’s suddenly attentive and loving and kind. She’s usually the leader - commanding you, guiding you. But you had asked if you have her, if you could just… love her. She had been hesitant and you’d dropped it - perhaps not afraid. Only hesitant to let you see that side of her anymore that you already have.

A few nights later she’d quietly given you permission. 

She tastes so sweet - you run your tongue up the length of her and sigh into her, her thighs tremble and threaten to close and you gently push them open, giving them a reassuring squeeze. I love you. Let me love you. You kiss the apex of her thigh and smile up at her - like honey and wine and summer nights. Lilac on the breeze and sweat and sex and musk. It clouds your senses and you don’t know if it’s her or you or destiny but it only spurs you on. 

You slip two fingers inside of her, she’s hot and wet and her back arches with each curl of your finger. You roll your tongue around her clit and her eyes roll and her head falls back. Every move, every touch is echoed in her breath, in rise and fall of her chest. She is immaculate in spite of her origins. She trembles and exhales in a breathy moan. 

You still have on your habit - you don’t intend to take it off - it isn’t about you. Cirrus has seen you to your end without ever touching hers. She has loved you and cared for you and defended you. You are forever indebted to her loyalty. She is the lioness that she is called - fierce and violently protective. She stands behind you and fear no one. She stands next to you and you belong to no one but her. Not even the Morningstar could call you from her side. 

She sighs your name and you kiss her stomach, replacing your tongue with your thumb on her clit - you rise to meet her mouth, muffling the moans that you pull from her. You plant a trail of kisses up her belly and slip your tongue around her nipple. She is like silk beneath the sun - soft and slick and hot. She reaches her peak and her body quakes around your fingers. You never want it to stop but she presses her forehead to yours and nips at your lip - she's close and she wants it. She wants you. You whisper her name, kissing the corner of her open, silent mouth as she cums on your fingers; her legs are tight around you, her toes pointed. She is lost as your hand works between the two of you - stroking her and pulling her and pushing her - her eyes squeeze shut, you wrap your hand around the back of her neck, working her through her orgasm and eking another from her before she can come down. You remind her how loved she is, how much you need her and want her. How beautiful and dangerous and perfect she is.

She clings to you, her hand wrapping around your wrist as you slow - sensitive and exhausted - you finally pull your hand from her and she relaxes into the nest of blankets and pillows that surrounds you. You suck your fingers clean and she watches you with onyx eyes, her breathing slows and her tail thumps, conspiratorially and she purrs, an eyebrow arched.

You squeal when she jumps you, pushing you onto your back with otherworldly speed and strength. She smiles down at you, pulling off your veil and tossing it across the room, "Cir," you say, running your thumb over her lip. She kisses your palm and eyes you - begging to you argue that you don't want her face buried in your cunt, her fingers stretching you, her mouth edging you to oblivion. She leans down and nuzzles into your hair - inhaling your scent and slipping her hand up your skirt. 

Though you had not planned it, you are happy to give in to her. And though she's sated, you've riled her and you stretch with a smug grin on your face. She nips at the buttons of your cardigan, popping them off one-by-one. You groan but, she'll mend them in the morning. She always does. It's difficult to put a finger on who might be the dominant one in the partnership - it's a luxurious, aching ebb and flow of give and take.

You peel off your sweater and tank and Cirrus sits you up against the headboard - taking you in before attaching her mouth to your nipple and pinning your hands above your head. 

It's hard to say who gives and who takes more - and it makes you smile - because tonight? Tonight everyone seems to be giving. 

[bosomybozophile]

Can we get a letter from Swiss? NSFW included too if you would love

Yeah, I can do letters again! I love doing these tbh.

Swiss Cheeseman below!

Sweet Cheeks,

Sup darlin’? Hope you’ve been keeping well. Been keeping those dancing shoes shined for me? I know this tour is runnin’ long but I figured I’d send you a little note along with some gifts that I picked up for you. Hope Dew hasn’t ripped em to shit yet. 

Just in case he has, here’s what should be in your box besides me: a beret, some brie, half a log of havarti (I had to), some crackers, and a new journal. If all of that’s there, then he didn’t touch it. 

Don’t worry too much, my little honey bunny. I’ll be home soon to make ya sing. Do that thing I know ya like with my tongue. I love it when you purr for me. Makes me all hard and ready for you. Maybe when I get home, we just spend the whole day in bed yeah? Let me feel you on top of me, gliding and grinding and moaning and screaming. Gimmie some of that sweet honey all on my tongue and let me taste you. How’s that sound?

Love that I bagged a mate with rhythm. I know you can keep up with me when it’s time to dance. Can’t wait to have you back with me. I need my partner. 

Always, Swiss.

i didnt take the fuckin cheese cause who wants a cheese basket man its not even a good gift, and a diary? you need to pick a better mate darlin’. i’ve heard i’m available. Dew

[bosomybozophile]

Do you think Secondo would confess it if he had a crush on a brother or sister of sin?

I don't think Secondo is the type to be so... open.

But you'd know it. Oh, would you know it.

You're out to dinners and day trips. Flowers in your room, in your office. Notes to join him for lunch in his. There are gifts and whispers of sweet nothings. His facade is breaking as fast as he can court you - he's not the stoic, ice king, Papa everyone thinks he is. He's quite sweet and you've elicited more than one raspy, happy giggle. He kisses the back of your hand and it literally sends you. He's romantic and sweet and you can't get enough. You find reasons to slip into his office, sitting on the edge of his desk - gossiping over an afternoon latte. You know he doesn't really care but, he humors you. Sitting back in his office chair and gazing up at you.

He puts his hand on the small of your back as he walks to you to Mass. Nothing blatantly sexual - he wants it but, doesn't dare attempt it. Yet. The longer he waits, the better you'll taste. But you're smitten and take the lead - wrapping your arm around his and following him to hit seat in the first row. He smirks but, stays silent. His hand his on your thigh and you share a hymnal although he doesn't need it but, it keeps you close; your arm pressed against his.

After mass, at dinner, he makes your plate and never lets your wine go dry. You chat with Primo through the meal and still, Secondo remains silent. Without looking away from Primo, you find his arm and then, his wrist and give it a squeeze, letting him know he is still very much on your mind. The corner of his mouth pulls upward and Terzo stares at you in awe. You run your fingers over Secondo's hand, tracing the rise and fall of his knuckles and he allows it, reveling in your affection.

You ask Secondo to walk you to your room. It's a slow walk, neither of you ready to part. Secondo would rather hoist you over his shoulder and toss you onto his bed, trussed up and begging for the rest of the night.

But you have other ideas.

You kiss him goodnight and step inside your apartment, "Shall we get breakfast?" you ask.

"Whatever you wish," he says, his mitre beneath his arm.

"Hm," you bite you lip and smile, "Whatever I wish? Anything?"

"Anything."

Secondo grunts in surprise when you grab onto his shirt collar and yank him into your bedroom. You have him until the sun comes up. A rare thing it is, to allow a Sibling to take him so but, he has a crush.

Secondo might not come out and tell you he's feeling feelings.

But oh, he'll certainly show you.

[bosomybozophile]

goddamnit lorraine, i crave the ghouls reactions to a fem s/o asking for either anal or rough sex, whichever youre most comfortable with, and i need it now,

I did an anal tag here, so I’ll drop some rough sex ones below!

NSFW 18+ TW: verbal degradation, daddy kink, rough sex, marking, choking, manipulation. Female reader. 

Aether: 

He’ll eye you up and down, making fierce eye contact and tilting his head in a quick motion.

“Would you like that, luv? Would you like me to be a little rough you? Take control? Take the reigns for the night and just let you lose control underneath me?”

When you tell him yes he’ll pounce, holding you down and biting his way down your neck, twirling his tongue around your nipple. “Are you sure luv? Give me that beautiful ‘yes’, please.” 

Pins your hands over your head and thrusts into you over and over again, the headboard of the bed smacking against the wall in time with his hips. He’ll hold one hand over your mouth or your throat, depending on which you’re more comfortable with.

“Call me daddy, eh? Tell me who owns you. Who owns this body. Who do you want to fill you up night after night and breed you?”

His aftercare is the most comforting of all of the Ghouls.

Dew:

“Oh love...oh baby. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to ask me for this. How do you feel about adding another into our midst?” He’ll steeple his fingers together deviously as he waits for you answer. On your affirmative, he’ll grin and instruct to, “wait here, my treat”. 

He’ll return shortly with Swiss tailing him, evidently excited. They’ll quickly go to work tying your limbs to various bed posts with comfortable ties and making sure that you’re not too stretched or anything.

“You’ll be here for a long while while we have our fun, little bird. Make sure you enjoy yourself though, yeah?” The two will warn you before they leave for a moment, preparing themselves and getting whatever supplies they’ll need for the night.

They’ll take you so thoroughly you’ll wonder why you ever held yourself back from asking previously. Have you ever wanted all of your holes filled? You’ll get that and more, don’t worry. Claws will mar your flesh, tails will choke and hold you open, and teeth will bite and scrape at you. There will be times when you aren’t quite sure who’s fucking you. 

It’s okay. Just let it happen, baby. 

Rain:

Asking Rain for this was a mistake. He may seem soft, but he’ll fuck you up in ways you never dreamed was possible. As soon as you ask him for this, something seems to flip inside of him like a switch. He goes from being the ‘soft and smol’ boy you know to something much sharper and devious. 

His claws and teeth will mark you enough that you’ll still feel and see it for days after your encounter, but you’ll love it. Sitting will hurt and make you wince if you sit a little too hard on the wooden pews in the chapel. One of his favourite things to do is mark his elemental symbol into your ass cheek as he pounds you from behind, gripping your hair in one fist. 

Expect some verbal degradation. This is something that Rain adores but is hardly ever comfortable enough to let it out. Of course he’ll warn you about it beforehand and if you aren’t comfortable he won’t do it. Calling you his “bitch” or “slut” is his favourite. 

He’ll sneak a hand around to your face and slip a finger into your mouth, tugging your lips open and to the side in a Glasgow smile, taunting you. “Tell me who owns you, bitch. Tell me how good this fucking feels. You like this? You like it?” When you try to respond he’ll mock you and wipe your own spit onto your back.

Afterwards, if he sees you around the Abbey grounds he’ll grin at your under his mask and pull his own lip to his cheek in a silent mockery of you. Occasionally he may pull you into a broom closet for a quickie, making sure to mark your neck so everyone knows you belong to him. 

Mountain:

He’ll give it to you rough but it isn’t his preferred because of his size. He doesn’t want to hurt you on purpose. 

His rough sex more involves toys and his hands. He’s quite agile with them, so expect to have both of them inside of you at some point- one in your mouth forcing you to suck on them while the other is twisting and flicking inside of you. 

When he finally slides his cock inside of you it’s only after eking two orgasms out of you. He’ll have you thoroughly stuffed with a toy in your ass, making you beg to be fully stuffed and used by him. He loves to hear you beg his name.

Sometimes he may get Rain involved if you’re alright with the addition to the game. If Rain is involved he’ll be much more subdued than when he’s on his own, allowing Mountain to take the lead and playing the dutiful role of follower.

One of Mountain’s favourite things to do when asked for rough sex is to hold you down. He won’t physically restrain you because he likes the play fighting, but he’ll hold you down and slide slowly inside of you, watching your pupils dilate with lust. When he’s fully seated he’ll slide out and then snap his hips back into you quickly.