#He will eat them; self control be damned

[siixkiing]

@sonxflight​ { ☯ }

"That doesn't excuse the fact you ate all of my peach mochi."

“Let this be a lesson to you than about leaving any peachy goodness around me unsupervised, cause I have no shame nor self control. I will consume it.”

[elliee3e]

imagine being logan’s controversially young girlfriend. like, controversially as in 19-early twenties… ugh i’m screaming MMMM

and nobody knows.

content warnings ;

size kink, age play, slight humiliation kink, praise kink, dirty talk, unprotected piv, teasing, brief mention of thigh riding, spit play also not proof read i got lazy !!! sorryyyyyyy😭

nobody knows how you show up to his room late at night in just a little nightdress, when the x-mansion’s quiet — filled only with the soft snores of students slipping out from their room… nobody knows how he’ll open the door for you and you two will be at it crazy.

he’ll take you into his bed — let you cozy up into his big arms until you’re squirming into his lap because you just can’t handle the size difference between you two.

and you were just making it so damn hard to stay rational for logan. every shift, every breath against his skin was making him want you more and more: and sometimes he’d give in, sometimes the guilt would eat at him.

“you’re a goddamn kid, baby. you don’t know what you want, let alone need.” he’d grumble, hand squeezing your soft hips again as he thought to himself that you should be with someone your age. not some old and broken man. and you were pouting at him, reminding him that you were well over the age of a ‘kid’. that small pout of yours that he thought was adorable, that soft, pretty pout, now was going to be the end of him.

“doll, you gotta just understand you’re too young for me. you need—“ he was cut off suddenly by that small body of yours against his thigh, your hips against the thick muscle, driving his mind wild. he exhaled a low groan deep in his throat, his hand gripping your waist on instinct. and this is where he knew he’d lost it.

that single roll of your hips against his thigh made him grip you tighter, his hand on your soft waist holding you down on his lap. He was trying to control himself, trying to think but you were making it damn hard when you were grinding against him like that. “jesus, darlin’..” he’d groan, voice deep and husky. “careful, don’t wanna hurt ya..”

and it was ironic, how he was worried about hurting you right now. because if he’s already that concerned with just you grinding innocently on his thigh, imagine how worried he’d be when you ride him.

as soon as your small thighs were spread on either side of his thick ones, his hands would move down to hold them — gently lifting you up so you could hover just slightly above his aching length, before slowly letting you slide down to take it.

he’d feel you trembling from the big stretch: you were just so small and delicate — and he always felt like he was definitely going to break you. he’d murmur soft little things like: “c’mon baby.. i’ve got ya, got ya right on me— that’s it.. mhm..” into your ear, big roughed up hands running through your soft pretty hair gently; tucking the loose strands behind your ear, watching your face in pleasure.

he’d keep at it like that, just letting you move your hips against him for your pleasure — milking it out of him. until he’d notice your moans turning into little whines, your eyes rolling back and fluttering shut. he knew he’d found that sweet spot when he heard you gasp out how good it was, and god was that an accomplishment for him.

“ah, yeah. there, huh? that feel good, baby girl?” he’d groan, making sure you were alright as his hands would grip your hips tighter, trying to prevent himself from throwing all his self control out the window as he started to push his hips up to meet your now sloppy little bounces. “found your spot, hm? right here?”

you’d moan incoherently at this point, nodding desperately, head lulling against his neck as you’d mumble how close you were, feeling the heat in your belly burning up more as his rough hand found the soft flesh there — grabbing at it. “close, ain’t ya, doll?” he’d pant, feeling more desperate as you’d moan his name desperate for more — your back arching and hips bucking for more.

but he couldn’t have you finish without him, no.

“not yet, baby. gotta hold it.. just gimmie a few minutes..”

he’d curse under his breath to himself as he watched your thighs tremble from the denial. god you were too damn pretty right now. his body trembled as you whimpered and whined even more. he’d then suddenly pull out, making you gasp and leaving you empty, his breathing short and heavy. however his hands quickly went to your hips to flip you over. “on your belly, baby.” he’d pant, needing you in a new position.

and holy fuck would that be the most life changing position ever.

slipping into your gorgeous pussy from behind, letting his cock stretch it to the hilt, buried so deep you felt him all tangled up in your guts with each and every thrust. the type of fuck that had your eyes rolling back in an instant and your lips parting, little whimpers and babbles spilling outta it like they were all your pretty mouth knew.

he’d grab your chin too, tease you for it, make you look at your reflection in the mirror.

“ah, such a mess. look at ya, you see yourself? gettin’ fucked stupid by me, baby?” his rough voice would ask, keeping his hand there to make sure you looked at your own fucked out reflection — and also the catch the drool that had pooled and fell from your lips.

he always loved you like this. it was when you’d get the most messy, and where he could really humiliate you — tease you — and yet even praise you, leaning down and placing little kisses all over the side of your pretty face whenever he had the heart to.

until finally, he’d let you cum.

only after you’d begged so much though your head was getting foggy, till your small body was quivering under his big one to the point that it looked like you were gonna collapse. his rough fingers would snake down and prod at your swollen clit, giving it the attention it had lacked this whole time.

“mm, i ignored her this whole time, didn’ i baby?” he’d lean closer to your ear and ask, as if he didn’t already know the answer. he just loved seeing you struggle even more to form something other than your meaningless babbles. and only when you’d manage to get something other than that, would he let you cum — letting his fingers do the work on your clit as he just kept you nice and full and satisfied, like the pretty princess you were.

౨ৎ

[thehauntedetheral]

YANDERE ASSASIN

Requests are open !

• You and your husband has been married for 2 years now. And you were happy with each other.

• You are an accountant for a company while your husband is an engineer.

• You were like any other normal couple working, eating dinner together, going out on weekends, doing the usual day to day stuff.

• But one thing you didn't knew was that well your husband is an fake engineer who pretends to be one.

• In reality he is a most sought after assasin who is hired to kill top level people.

• The "I have to go out for two days for a project darling" is nothing but a excuse he gives you to go and kill his target in another state.

• Have guns hidden in various places in your shared home for " safety purpose ".

• One time you found one of his gun and asked him why is it here? "Hehe well darling the crime rate is increasing day by day I bought it for us for our safety I even have a legal licence for the gun." (Yes a licence for being an assasin)

• This is the same man who melts into your arms, follows you around the house like a puppy, looks at you like you hung the moon and stars and also the same man who doesn't miss his target even from miles and shoots them mercilessly.

• Hits all the target in a shooting game giving you a huge stuffed teddy bear while saying "Beginner's luck, baby."

• Yan vowed in the beginning phase of his job that he would never get married due to his job risk but you entered his life, made him break his vow as he asked you to marry him after falling so desperately in love with you. How couldn't he? You are just so damn perfect.

• You mentioned in a conversation to him casually how a co worker creeped you out by his staring. Boom from next day the co-worker now always avoids you like plague. (Because some unknown assasin threatened his life if he ever came near you)

• He has never been guilty in his life for killing people or having it as job but becomes guilty in a millisecond when he sees you sad thinking how bad of a husband I am? And to make all the clarifications clear you were not sad due to him you were just having your usual period mood swings. Because no way in hell this man would ever make you sad. Before making you cry he would shoot himself with his own gun.

• You both were watching an assasin movie on a weekend and you said how good looking and skilled that assasin the movie character is.

Meanwhile Yan's Mind : Control your self yan no need to be jealous you are better than that freaking stupid looking loser assasin. y/n just doesn't know. Control.

• Yan at a Halloween night comes home after shooting his target with a little blood on his clothes wearing his assasin black clothes and a gun in hand knowing full well that you are at your friend's house. Only to be surprised that you are at home throwing him a suprise Halloween party with others. You looking at him with a confused look as he stands on doorstep shocked.

Yan : Suprise baby!!! I came up dressed up as an assain that you liked in that movie. I hope you like it. (Saying with an akward smile while telling himself to not be so reckless next time)

Meanwhile the people at party who know the true Yan : 🧍‍♂️

• Is so damn protective of you due to his work line that whenever he leaves for days makes sure your friend stays with you and making sure you are safe through all the hidden cameras spread all over the house.

• He loves you a lot. He might be a deadly assasin to the whole world but he is just a normal engineer madly in love with you who just wants to devour you whole so no one else can have you.

• Reader to their friends : My husband won't ever hurt a fly.

Meanwhile Yan listening to this conversation: 🧍‍♂️

• When he is off duty he just spoils you with his cooking and spending all his time with you cuddling watching shows and just talking.

• Prays to god that you never found out about his true job afraid that you would get scared and leave him.

For more yandere reading :

[keferon]

Part 4 of Drift/Deadlock and Hot Rods adventure in the mecha au!

Here comes the Sun do do do do- here comes the Sun at Mach five.

———————————————————————

Deadlock needed to kill something. Badly.

He’d kept it together through Ratchets confession. And he kept a relaxed mischievous banter going from the Hangar all the way to Ratchets makeshift clinic. When they finally arrived in Dead En-

The refugee camp. It was called a refugee camp and nothing else.

Deadlock almost transformed in the fragging middle of a refugee camp.

The memory snuck up on him okay?

Ever since he cracked open that one, tiny, memory from before he was Deadlock, pieces of Drift kept floating to the surface.

He gave Ratchet a quick goodbye, saying he needed something to eat. And sped off before the medic could question him.

He needed violence and isolation. Needed to reset his whole damn processor and banging his helm against a hard-organic-stick-thing? Whatever the fuck. Frag? Ugh. It wasn’t working.

He was shaky, couldn’t focus. His chassis felt like it was put inside a vise and someone who hated him had control of the handle.

Ratchet had been a breath of fresh air when Deadlock hadn’t even known he was buried alive. And since then the medic had been stubbornly digging him the rest of the way out.

It. Just felt good.

Being cared for. Being able to relax around someone. And knowing with absolute certainty it wasn’t just an act.

He got used to it. Comfortable with a certain level of vulnerability. Then Ratchet brought in Hot Rod.

If Ratchet was a breeze that slipped inside Deadlocks mental fortress, then Hot Rod was a Fragging bunker busting missile. None of it felt like he deserved it.

Ratchet laid out his spark for judgement. Because Ratchet, amazing and wonderful and impossible Ratchet, didn’t want Deadlock to be stuck with someone like him.

Something shitty inside him whispered, “What if Ratchet doesn’t want to be stuck with someone like him?”

He ignored it. Pushed it down. He didn’t leak coolant over slag like that. He didn’t need people like Ratchet or Hot Rod in his life. He just really, really wanted them in his life. For completely selfish Decepticon-y reasons.

You’d die for them you know.

Shut up.

Deadlock’s processor wouldn’t stop spinning.

He felt exposed.

He felt like slag.

He felt like Drift.

So Deadlock set out to do the most Deadlock thing he could think of.

———————————————————————

Deadlock fucked up.

Deadlock fucked up very badly.

Snow was getting caught in his optics, melting on contact into a slush that made it that much harder to see.

The fragging swarm of quintesson scouts surrounding him were not having that same problem.

They moved in a pack. Smaller and smarter than the standard issue quints that normally devastated the planet, these things unfortunately had a tiny sense of self preservation which made mowing them down that much more difficult.

Deadlock was forced to constantly turn on his peds to avoid the majority of the quints that kept going after his back. There wasn’t a moment he wasn’t beating them off with the stock of his rifle. He couldn’t switch to any close range weapons because if he stopped fighting them off for even a second, the quints would rush him all at once, forcing him to continue.

Couldn’t stop moving for the same reason.

They kept trying to get behind him. Snapping barbed tendrils at the backs of his knees, the gaps of his armor. Trying to force him down.

If I fall I’m dead.

Deadlocks vents were screaming. A brave little fragger went for his face, Deadlock swung his rifle like a bat.

Distraction.

Shooting pain went through the back of his left knee joint. Something with barbs was forcing it apart. Something tore.

Deadlock immediately brought down the barrel through an eye socket and pulled the trigger. Didn’t have time to register if the quint was dead before another one came at him from the opposite side. His peds dragged furrows through the earth and snow. Spinning. He had to keep spinning.

He was slowing.

If I fall I’m dead.

The quints redoubled their efforts to get behind him. More lashes at his back. Another quint darting the other direction. Didn’t even attack. But Deadlock wasn’t ready for the feint and swung at empty air.

The pack leapt at his back as one.

I’m going to die.

Deadlock wedged his rifle between him and the ground. The quintessons tore into his back but the weight was too much to throw off without help.

I’m not gonna see them again.

The rifle dug into his pauldron.

I don’t want to die.

A tendril wrapped around his neck. He clawed at it.

I don’t want to die like this.

One of them was dragging a ped backwards. Forcing his weight onto his injured knee.

I don’t want to die alone.

Drift screamed.

For a moment, from the corner of his blurry optics, he saw a light growing brighter and brighter.

“Huh”, Drift thought deliriously. “I always figured the last light you see before death would appear in front of you.”

IMPACT against the mob at his back sent Drift and the quintesson scouts scattering across the ground.

He fell.

He wasn’t dead.

Deadlock scrambled into an upright kneel, ignoring the lightning like pain shooting up his knee.

Leaning on his rifle, Deadlock saw another mech. Orange and gold with propane blue lights, he had multiple quints trapped in a bear hug. What hit him the hardest was an EM field overflowing with wild, unrestrained joy.

“HOT ROD?!?”

The mecha pilot only got about half the squirmy, bite-y little scrappers in the hold. The other half were quickly shaking off probable Roddy-induced concussions and began leaping at the nearest, newest prone target.

Hot Rod waved.

“Hey dude! Holy shit, that gun looks awesome!” Deadlock looked on in disbelief as more quintessons piled onto Hot Rod.

“What are you doing?! Rod get up!” Deadlock lurched to his feet, his last few thoughts repeated like a skipping track.

I was going to die. I was going to die. Hot Rod is going to die.

The cybertronian rushed towards the mecha. Hot Rod released the remaining quints who quickly turned to join the crushing mass subsuming him.

Hot Rod raised a hand, “Stop! Stop! Don’t get closer!”

Deadlock stopped just short of where the quints would turn on him. “Are you insane?! I’m trying to help you!”

“Just trust me!” Half of Hot Rod’s helm was covered in blackish tendrils. “And then help me in about five seconds!” Orange and gold disappeared under the writhing mass, the light snuffed out before Deadlocks optics.

He finally subspaced his rifle, switching to duel short range handguns that were both messy and loud. He counted five, fucking human seconds.

Something happened to the mass. The squirming suddenly stopped, and in the gaps of the knots surrounding Hot Rod, Deadlock saw something start to glow.

In the next instance, the quintessons exploded off of the mecha. Partially from the act of fleeing, entirely because Hot Rod was completely engulfed in flames.

“WOO! Now the party can get started!” Hot Rod wasted no time in engaging duel flamethrowers and began chasing after the remaining quints with manic glee.

Deadlock stopped questioning shit and started shooting with a vengeance.

Soon enough, the field around them was littered with the quintesson scouts burned and shredded remains.

Deadlocks vents were finally kicking down from maximum and he finally managed to wipe the stupid slagging slush out of his optics.

For the moment his eyes were offline, Deadlock felt a spike of happy that almost bowled him over. A half second before Hot Rod physically bowled him over.

Deadlock’s overtaxed fight or flight systems just gave the fuck up and let the tackle happen.

Hot Rod had him in a tight enough embrace he wasn’t sure he could have gotten away anyways.

“Holy shit I thought you were going to die.” Hot Rod crushed him to his chassis. The twin waves of Worry and Relief were doing things to his processor again. Deadlock (Drift?) was still feeling the aftershocks of it all. Memories skipped again. I’m going to die.

Dea-Dri- he wrapped his shaking arms around Hot Rod. Later, he could just say his knee gave out. Everything was spinning. Wait. No. Hot Rod picked him up and was spinning with him.

“You’re so lil now!” Hot Rod was ecstatic.

Deadlock was back. “Put me down. Gently.”

Hot Rod acquiesced, but seeing Deadlock nearly fall on his own, took the liberty of slinging one of his arms over his shoulders.

“M’kay. You look like shit. Need help walking back to Ratchets? Or can you drive?”

Deadlocks knee and entire back ached, but it wasn’t so debilitating once he’s had a chance to process it for a click.

“Uh, I think I’ll be okay to drive once I get to a road.” Hot Rod pulled him a little more securely into the supporting hold and started walking in the direction of the nearest road.

“Man, that’s still so cool you can do that. I wish I could turn into a car.”

Deadlock snorted, “Oh I’m sure if you keep practicing you’ll figure it out. Try stretching.”

Hot Rod laughed. It was so weird to think there was just a little guy in there. Sitting in like, a fancy cup holder. He sounded like the real thing. Moved like it too. If Deadlock hadn’t met Hot Rod the human first, the uncanny valley would have tipped him off something was wrong, but teeny tiny guy in a big person-puppet would not be his first guess.

Hot Rod stopped short, snapping his helm toward Deadlock.

“Wait. Do you ever drop off Ratchet at the shatterdome?”

Deadlock rolled his optics at the third near spark attack Hot Rod had given him that day.

“Yeeeah?”

Excitement started bubbling over.

“YOU’RE THE MOB BOYFRIEND?!” Hot Rod was stomping his peds while scream-laughing, probably because he couldn’t go for a run without dropping Deadlock.

“Dude! Dude dude dude. Pharma haaates you!”

Well that put Deadlock in a better mood. Albeit, only due to a “misunderstanding”.

“S’not like that. I just give him a lift sometimes. Make sure he doesn’t forget his lunch. Or to take care of himself. We’re not, you know.” Deadlock was pointedly looking the other direction.

Hot Rods cackled at the confirmation of the rumor, and his field steadily shifted towards mischief.

“Oooh Ratchet!” Hot Rod had begun speaking in a falsetto voice. “I love you sooo much! I’m from space but my favorite stars are the ones twinkling in your eyes! I wanna drive you to every beautiful place on this planet and when we finally come home we can watch Golden Girls while you pet my big bald metal head!”

“I’m going to punt you into a fragging Sun.”

Hot Rod laughed harder. He started making some weird wheezing noise that Deadlock hoped meant the imaginary strangling he was doing was working.

“THE UNICRON DAMNED SUN.”

Deadlock’s threatening was severely undercut by the fact that he was laughing now as well. They’d just about made it to the edge of the forest when Hot Rod asked a question that made Deadlock freeze.

“How’d you piss off so many scouts at once anyways? They’re normally way too spread out to all be grouped together like that.”

There were only two times when a pack of quintesson scouts were all gathered in the same place. When they first get dropped off, and when they gather to get picked back up.

Deadlock unhooked his arm from Hot Rod, turning behind them.

The change in air pressure made his finales tingle. Between the snow and the darkness, it was almost impossible to spot with the untrained optic. The snow had stopped falling. It was being blocked.

“Oooh shit.” Hot Rod checked the fuel levels on his flame throwers, glancing between those and the telltale green bio lights of the fuck off massive quintesson descending like the lethargic offspring of a meteor and a shark.

Deadlock brought out two of his heaviest duty guns. And then a third he handed handle first to Hot Rod. Ratchet had only warned him against encouraging Hot Rod’s stupid ideas.

Hot Rod was now looking rapidly between three points of interest.

“Wha-?”

Deadlock gave Hot Rod a gun.

“Do not tell Ratchet.”

Hot Rod held up the side arm. Focus zeroed in. Pretty nasty piece that looked more intimidating than it was. Slagged range but it packed enough of a punch to be worth keeping. Covered in spikes and blades and heavy enough to act as a crude but very nasty club, it was also one of the most over the top looking things Deadlock owned.

Hot Rod’s free hand started flapping faster and faster. His peds similarly bounced rapidly in place, until Deadlock was certain he was about to combust. Hot Rod was making A noise. One that was steadily rising in both pitch and volume. His field going supernova.

The quintesson broke through the clouds, maw open, carving up the earth before them with the bottom of its jaw. A cliffside of teeth was closing in at speed.

Hot Rod screamed.

And Deadlock followed suit.

Sprinting towards death, guns blazing and voices raised in preemptive victory, Deadlock and maybe also Drift, had a suspicion the he and Hot Rod were friends in every universe.

Much to the terror of everyone else.

———————————————————————

And that’s the soft finale to this tale!

Over the course of writing this, the story kept getting longer, but the two scenes it started with were “Hot Rod Meets Deadlock” and “Hot Rod Saves Deadlock” and then more ideas kept popping in between those two scenes.

There is more I plan on writing for these dipshits as well as Jazz and Prowl now but we’ll see what comes first.

I just wanted to say as well that @keferon you are a very talented writer and you’re the reason I was brave enough to share my own stuff. You fit so many little details into your work that just hits like a hammer down the line.

-SSTP

THE SWEET SWEET COMFORT YESSS THE SHENANIGANS!! ABSOLUTELY. Y E S. PL E A S E fklgjgidowjehrkrndhdof

Oh this is amazing. The dynamic you give them. The enERGY. It's like a candy for my soul I love it so so much ogkfhdgd I'm so happy you decided to share your writing! It's filled with joy and and I-dont-fucking-know purified enthusiasm?? I can't remember the right words rn but hopefully you get what I mean haha

[retrosabers]

𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

*relationship hcs written with fem!reader in mind*

contains: a little bit of everything. some relationship fluff, a bit of angst (mentions of death and past trauma), very flirty and filthy logan, 18+ CONTENT AT THE BOTTOM. MINORS DNI (body worship, praise kink, pain kink, dirty talk to the nines.)

word count: 1.5k

a/n: not me posting something for the first time in a) over a month and b) in 2025 😍😍

it’s been ROUGH in the brain and writing department for me, and this is the best i could come up with right now. i hope i can get back in my real groove soon, i miss writing real bad.

in the mean time, please enjoy my wolvie brain dump. feel free to share any of your own personal hcs in the comments or reblogs!!

GENERAL/PERSONALITY:

he’s secret tea drinker. always drinks coffee (no cream no sugar; nasty ass) in the morning but also drinks tea at night. though nothing can fully calm him down in the evening, the tea does relax him in some capacity, and logan takes whatever reprieve he can get. plus it was one of the first things you started doing together, so it’s become a part of his routine he can’t be without.

typically the first person up, and the last person in bed. you’d think logan wouldn’t be a morning person, but he’s surprisingly at ease in the early hours. as relaxed as someone like him could get, anyways.

likes to read a lot. he was in complete awe of the mansion’s library the first time he saw it. will often sneak in when no one’s around and read for an hour or two by the window if he’s got the time. when you discover he’s a secret bookworm, you start to leave a book on his desk that you think he’ll enjoy every once in a while. it’s a small gesture logan holds very near and dear to his heart.

can’t remember people’s birthdays or important dates to save his life BUT can recall something minor in a fleeting conversation from a long time ago. also remembers very random useless facts that have actually come in handy on more than one occasion.

if and when logan sleeps, he snores. so. fucking. LOUD, to the point where it can wake people up depending on how close quarters are. he denies it constantly.

likes to make sure his deodorant and cologne have the same general scent (i just know he smells like a sexy ass manly man URGH).

a lot of people hc him as a history professor but i have a hot take: gym teacher logan. not in the typical “let’s run laps and play dodgeball” way, but in the sense that he teaches the kids how to control and utilize their mutations to their advantage (with help from the rest of the xmen of course), and maybe even some light sparring to practice self defense. i personally just don’t see the history teacher thing working out because i fear he would subconsciously be reliving a LOT of trauma.

gets really anxious whenever someone is sick or injured. he’s been gravely reminded before that not everyone is indestructible like he is, and it scares him to see others get hurt in any capacity, because he’s terrified of losing them. the first time you get seriously wounded on a mission? logan damn near wears his boots down to the sole from pacing back and forth outside the medbay so much. he can’t eat, he can’t sleep, he can’t focus on anything other than you. time stops for him; and won’t resume until he’s certain you’re going to be okay.

legitimately purrs like a cat if you scratch his head just the right way. he will once again deny this until the end of time, but with less resistance and a much more flushed complexion.

“whatever,” he mumbles into your stomach, while guiding your nails back to his scalp.

hates ANY music made after the year 2000, but anything before that he’s pretty keen on. he’s got his preferences for sure (a little country, some rock, and maybe a bit of bluegrass), but isn’t above admitting that a pop tune is a little catchy from time to time.

IN A RELATIONSHIP:

you better not even THINK about ever opening a door for yourself ever again because if you do he’s taking personal offense to it.

he may be a slut in the sheets but he’s a near perfect gentlemen in the streets. i’m talking walking on the outside of the sidewalk at all times, always helping you out of the car even if you don’t need it, carrying your jacket or shoes after a night out, making sure you’re obscured from view if you need to adjust a revealing top; any chivalrous boyfriend thing you can think of, and he’s done it. with suaveness, might i add.

“here honey, gimme that, i got it.”

“hold on a second sweetheart, your strap’s all twisted.”

the definition of “you fell first but he fell harder.”

makes it a point to take you on a “real date” outside the mansion once or twice a month because he knows how much you enjoy getting dressed up for different occasions. whether that be dinner, dancing (yes, if you beg hard enough he’ll go dancing with you), and maybe even a trip to the museum or planetarium.

both the big and little spoon, it depends on the day, but he’s an insane cuddler either way. a human teddy bear for you and only you. this? he won’t deny, not for a second. and he’ll tell anyone who cares to tease him about it to fuck off.

always touching you in some capacity. a gentle caress on the back of your neck, or cold palms sliding underneath your sweater, logan has no qualms about being a bit handsy.

“if your girl looked like this, you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off her either.”

his favorite (and yours too secretly) is a hand in the back pocket of your jeans. there’s something equally sweet and sultry about it that makes your stomach flutter every time. a slightly possessive gesture, that when coupled with a cocky smirk and a shameless squeeze, never fails to drive you wild.

you thought he was a worry wart about your safety before you were dating? it amplifies by a million when you’re together, almost to the point of annoyance because he’s adamant on not letting you out of his sight. eventually after a few arguments and a scolding from charles, you remind him that you’re perfectly capable of handling things on your own, and yes, sometimes he does need to look out for you, just in case.

SMUT:

handsy logan = body worship logan. this man will make it his life mission to appreciate every single inch of your body. he doesn’t care if you’re tangled in between sheets for hours on end. you’re not leaving the bed until you know just how much he’s smitten with every part of you.

pain kink king who will cum significantly faster if you break skin with your nails raking down arms or back. gets an immediate hard on when you slap him in the middle of a dangerously intense argument, and implores you to do it again in a dark, lust driven tone.

to make up for the fact that you can’t mark your territory, with logan’s regenerative capabilities and all, he goes above and beyond to mark his. this man leaves hickies everywhere, and i mean everywhere. your hip bones, your navel, damn near the entirety of your sternum, your neck essentially a human canvas that he gladly paints in brilliant hues of lavender.

he may be a man of few words with most, but with you? logan can never shut the fuck up about how good you make him feel.

“look at you. doin’ so good for me honey.” “y’feel like fuckin’ heaven, you know that?” “my perfect girl. made just for me.”

cannot handle when you return the favor. immediately shoves his flushed face into whatever part of your body he can find and picks up the pace. praise is another surefire way to get logan to blow his load in record time. he thinks it’s a little embarrassing but you think it’s SO HOT.

loves a good tummy bulge OOP who said that

really enjoys sex in the shower or bath. there’s an additional layer of intimacy with it that makes logan particularly warm in the chest. will often suggest round two in the bathroom so he not only has the pleasure of ruining you again, but helping gently put you back together with a tenderness reserved only for you.

the ceo of teasing. loves to watch you get all flustered and squirmy so you best believe he’s teasing the fuck out of you any chance he gets. logan’s got wandering hands and a filthy mouth and that he uses to his advantage both in and out of the bedroom.

“what if i bent you over this desk, right here right now, hm? would you like that?”

“your skirt’s real pretty baby. think it would look a lot better on the floor of my room.”

“been thinkin’ about you all day. gonna let me fuck you real good later?”

aftercare is a learning curve. he’s not completely careless the first time you have sex, but he’s not as caring and attentive as he knows he probably should be. logan was used to quick one night stands, not getting intimate with someone he had romantic feelings for. once he realizes how in-deep he is with you, he takes the time to learn the ins and outs of true aftercare.

* for more smut headcanons, check out my logan nsfw alphabet here*

thanks for reading! <3

[wysteria-bloom]

⚝ " i'll never smile again "

The hazbin boys are visibly stressed

Warnings : I used female pronouns. There are mentions of Valentino. Highly suggestive in Vox's part because yeah it makes sense. Alastor offers to go on a murderous rampage with the reader 🥰

Genre : Fluff, suggestive

A/n : I hate the people in my life and they stress me tf out so I'm writing to vent my frustrations out. :) I only included my favs in this one but if you would like a part two with other characters then say the word.

Characters : Alastor, Vox, Lucifer

▢ vox ᯤ

- Offering sexual favours -

Vox growled to himself gently as he typed away at the screen in front of him, eyes honing in obsessively on the words and news articles.

He was on media control right now because fucking Val blew up on Angel in public today.

Now he's forced to get rid of every media that is sculpting Valentino out to be the bad guy.

Whoopee fucking doo.

"Fuckin' Val... stupid idiot.... stupidly hot idiot." He sighed out, running his hands down his face tiredly then his eyes widened with an idea,"... Where's my assistant."

"Here, sir."

"Fuckin' christ-!" He yelped out at the sudden voice and he spun around quickly in his chair, coming face to face with her amused little shit-eating grin. He glared, scowl on his lips," You been there the whole time?"

"Yes, sir." She nodded, hands folded in her lap modestly.

"You're a little creep, y'know that?"

"Yes, sir."

He sighed and rolled his shoulders, wincing at the painful cracks that resounded from them," You seen the media?"

She nodded," yes, quite the 'clusterfuck' as you would put it."

His lip twitched in amusement," perfect descriptor, honestly." He then clicked his fingers at the screen," Is Troy on today? Tell him to deal with the rest of the articles pl-"

"It's Troy's day off today, sir." (Name) interrupted, walking so she was standing next to him, she leaned over him a little to click away at the tabs he had opened," But I will call him to come in. You need rest." She replied promptly.

Vox watched her with an almost sleepy look in his eyes, watching her close down the articles with quick and manicured claws.

"What would I do without you, eh?" He hummed out.

A chuckle flitted from her lips and he found himself entranced by the sound of it," I think you'd do well for yourself without me, sir." She reassured with a gentle voice and stepped away from the desk a little, turning to face him," would you like me to accompany you to your room?"

He blinked and then smirked," how forward of you, sweetheart." He cooed out with that sultry tone of his," Take me out to dinner first, yeah?"

She tilted her head to the side with an owlish blink,"... Would you like to go to dinner? Would that be a better form of stress relief for you that the first option?"

His mouth fell open with a shocked look as he stared at her, a little buffering symbol in the top right corner of his screen for a moment before it disappeared, a dark blush appearing on his face," f-fuck wait... w-were you suggesting we..."

"We have sex? Yes. I hear it's a rather fantastic way of stress relief and you are a rather sexually frustrated individual so it would-"

He place a hand over her mouth as he stood from his chair, basically towering over her.

There was a hungry look in his eyes as he let that charming grin twitch onto his lips," You're about the best damn fuckin' assistant I've ever had."

She smiled beneath his hand and grabbed onto his wrist gently, maneuvering it so she could place an oh-so-gentle kiss to his wrist whilst looking into his eyes," I'm honoured, sir." She hummed out in a sultry fashion.

Vox gulped, his self-control snapping, red leaking from his mouth," I'm gonna fuck the shit outta you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, sir."

▢ alastor ⍋

- Expressing your issues over a glass of giggle juice -

A sigh and a huff fell from her lips as she made her way into the hotel lobby, shoulders sagging from a long day of work.

There seemed to be nobody in the lobby as she walked over to the bar and poured herself out a glass of whiskey.

"Late-night drinking? That's not like you." The familiar static of Alastor graced her ears.

(Name) blinked and looked over to him, noticing how tensed his smile seemed. His eyes looked... genuinely exhausted. His ears flopped downwards ever so slightly.

"Looks like you should be joining me," She hummed back and grabbed another glass, wiggling it at him suggestively.

He watched it for a second before relaxing and grabbing it, sitting next to her at the bar and pouring the liquid. He took a sip with her and his smile seemed to curl in a more soft way now.

"Hm, I dare say my dear, that does just hit the spot doesn't it?" He hummed out, a more relaxed expression on his face.

"You can say that again. No wonder Husk is an alcoholic, I understand the appeal after having an awful day." She replied with a nod of agreement," yknow, sometimes I wish Hell was just a personal purgatory instead of me having to deal with other people's shit."

"Agreed. It gets tiring, doesn't it? Makes you want to go a little batshit insane, yes?" He said this with a polite tone of voice, ears perked up.

"I want to go on a murderous rampage every second of every day."

"We could join forces if it ever came to that. We would kill twice the amount of demons."

She grinned at him," how flattering. You'd go on a murder spree with me, Al?"

He pressed a hand to his heart to express his genuine sincerity," Dear, if I ever say no to a question like that then I give you my full and utter permission to kill me in the most brutal way you can think of." He replied honestly, and (name) didn't know whether to be flattered or concerned but she found herself laughing along anyways.

"What a charmer," She grinned at him brightly," You can be so romantic when you want to, hm?"

"Romance has nothing to do with it. It is merely etiquette." He tilted his head at her, resting it in the palm of his hand, expression seemingly brightened from just a conversation with her," what's got you so downtrodden?"

She deflated a little, smile tired," Overworked and under-appreciated for the work I do." She replied simply, taking a sip of her whiskey," I'll never smile again~" She sang sadly.

Alastor perked up at the familiar song," until I smile at youuu~" he serenaded, smile only widening at the sound of her amused laughter.

Then he looked her over, an almost disappointed glint in his eyes," I still wonder why you work for that insolent shitbox after all these years." His smile seemed to sharpen at the thought of Vox," He doesn't deserve you at all. Not a single bit."

(Name) shrugged," I'm helpless, what can I say?"

"You're not. You're a strong woman, (name). Stand up for yourself. And if you can't stand?" His eyes glowed sinisterly," Break his legs off so you can."

She stared on for a second before raising her glass," Most sound advice I've heard for years."

Alastor barked out an amused laugh and raised his hlass to hers, "For that compliment? I will break his legs for you if it is needed, darlin'. "

Clink went their glasses as they enjoyed each other's company for a while longer.

▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝

- Gentle caresses and positive affirmations -

"Okay so... meeting with the angels next week... then I have to call Michael- eugh cowabummer... then I have to-"

(Name) watched her friend flail around his office with a concerned frown on her lips, arms crossed over her chest.

He's been so stressed lately. He had that little break in between where he could just... chill.

And make his cute rubber duckies.

But now with everything in the hotel, he's had a lot more work on his shoulders. Specifically with Heaven, as unfortunate as that was.

She saw his claws scratching through his hair as he paced back and forth, as though he was entranced by all these... issues. He's so entranced he's forgotten she's there with him.

So she sighed and lifted herself from the wall and walked into his walk-cycle path, grabbing onto his shoulders before he could crash into her.

He blinked in surprise and met eyes with her, a dumbfounded expression on his face," Oh... Hey."

She smiled," Hey."

"Sorry, you've probably heard me complain enough lately. Your pretty ears must be burning with all the yapping-"

"Of course not, Lou..." She huffed out, interrupting him with a frown of disapproval. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his arms, rubbing gentle touches of comfort," I think you've got too much on your plate lately - you using me as an outlet to vent to is the least of my problems."

He deflated a little, a tiredly wry grin on his lips," You're... you're too nice, y'know that?"

"What? You'd rather I spit and degrade you~?" She flirted teasingly with a fanged grin.

"No thanks... for now." He then sighed and moved his head to rest on her chest, cheek smooshing against her collar bone," I need a vacation."

(Name) laughed as she threaded her fingers through his mussed-up hair gently and soothingly," You were basically on a vacation already, hon. Now's the time to get back to work. Put all those wonderful thoughts and dreams to good use."

He melted in her arms, closing his eyes slowly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. This felt more domestic than platonic, but the two of them were too focused on eachother to admit that.

"You'll stay, right? I like having you here." He mumbled tiredly," U-unless you don't wanna which I totally understand and a-accept... y'know, you don't have to be here if you don't want t-"

"Stop worrying you dummy." (Name) chuckled out,"... I'd love to stay here with you."

"Phew..." He huffed and grinned sharply," Good to hear... a-amazing to hear!... Y... you're the best."

"Don't I know it~!"

[drgnflyteabox]

red ochre [4]

series masterlist previous || part four -> orchil || part five -> kermes

pairing: viking goap x fem! nun reader summary: double-edged swords, field trips, and wolf figurines w.c: 4.2k tags/warnings: religious & sexual guilt / shame, stockholm syndrome, inner turmoil, suicidal thoughts (minor), violent thoughts, oral (f), dubcon/noncon, stockholm syndrome, reader says "stop" / "no" but johnny continues, reader has some puritanical ideas about sex (virtue, virginity) but shes a nun so give her a break, power imbalance, thoughts of death/afterlife, self hatred, "little" used affectionately not as a size indicator lol

You wake up to the sound of a childs’ babbles the next morning, disoriented and confused - had sister Margery taken in another orphan girl to raise up in the convent? The softness of the bed beneath you betrays your confusion, rocking you slowly into reality as you blearily open your eyes.

Johnny sits at the table, cooing to a baby on his knee. He bounces them as they make sounds, soft happy ones that contrast with his muscles and scars and hair. In your observation of him you think about how a man so coarse-looking could be so soft to lay against, how he could go from sweet to firmer than stone in a moment. How his hands held you down not two days past, and soothed the skin that still ached as you shifted in bed now.

A conflicted series of emotions had risen in you since, and though something had calmed inside you, the primary tide was a pervasive sense of shame and it tended to overpower everything else.

“Who's that?” Johnny says, his voice high-pitched. “Is that my wife?”

He's cooing to the child, but still you burn and twist with too many things to dwell on lest you go mad.

Simon is nowhere to be found, but that's not been unusual in these winter mornings.

“Who's this?” You murmur, sitting up. Your woolen shift is warm, a soft red colour dyed by one of the village women that Johnny told you he'd traded for specially. Red ochre, he’d said, fingering the cloth. A beautiful muted red kind of colour.

A little like dried blood.

“Gaz's bairn,” Johnny says. “His house is gettin’ invaded by some rowdy boys, and the lasses’ are at the river.” 

He must see the confusion on your face, because he adds, “boys are gettin’ ready for a hunting party.”

The baby shrieks, clapping clumsily as Johnny lifts a carved wooden toy up to them. He crinkles his eyes, looking between you and the baby. You want to discourage whatever thoughts he's having, so you stand and move to the fire, away from his wandering blues.

“Should I make something?” You don't dare look at him.

“So sweet of ye,” Johnny hums. “The baby eats eggs.”

You nod.

As you steadily become more awake, thoughts begin to cloud your mind.

Guilt is strange; it spreads like a plague, tainting anything you've decided to take some control of. Cooking, chores, talking cautiously with the men or allowing your heart to soften. The poison has grown from your first peak, spreading outward from your core and into your mind, leaving you worse off.

Simon hadn't done anything else, nor had Johnny. You'd cooked them lunch and breakfast, asked for sewing equipment for mending and receiving it promptly after. From Gaz's woman, Johnny had said. She says hello. Any contact outside of Johnny or Simon hadn't once crossed your mind, especially not since having sat on Simon's lap at the feast like a prize.

But you were a prize, a stolen woman, taken to wife. However you spun the narrative it was hard to get past that fact and harder still to get past that it might fulfill something inside you that nothing else could or could've. That perhaps you were tainted, and the taking had been because they saw it in you somehow. Sniffed the false servant of God as you worked, not anything by coincidence but guided by some instinct that told them you were just as bad.

Your little book, the one you missed dearly, the one piece of physical evidence that damned you. 

Though God had never spoken to you back, you'd imagined in the convent that when you passed he'd simply show you the blasphemous, lustful evidence of your filthy mind and send you to burn.

Now you knew that He wouldn't have to do that. You'd simply burn without any chance, damned worse now by your treacherous cunt.

“-nun? Where's my little nun gone?” You turn, startled. The eggs are crisp, and darkening by the second.

You hurry to pull them out of the hot fat as Johnny watches you, still cooing and bouncing. 

“Sorry,” you slide him a nearly burnt egg. “Can the baby still eat them?”

 “Should be fine,” he tears the egg with his fingers, offering tiny pieces.

It's hard, but not too tough or burnt. Just browned, fried and crispy. You wonder if this could count as a sin, how nearly wasting food would weigh against coming on the fingers of a viking heathen.

The hopelessness gets you sometimes, gets you as you try to sleep and in moments like these. What option do you have? Adapt, or what? Sure, it's probably better to take advantage of their lack of extreme violence and make your predicament as best as possible, especially without an escape route and without the strength to fight them. 

You feel watched, judged, observed on all sides. Giving in and navigating how to be a viking wife might be better than resisting forever, but the unseen eye of divine judgement and its gaze rests heavily on you. In fact, it's like it seeps into you through your skin and connects with the shame to compound both feelings.

“There she goes again,” Johnny says, but you hear him this time.

“I'm here,” you say. The baby smacks their lips, enjoying the egg despite its texture.

“No ye aren't,” his blue eyes are piercing, cutting through the fog of unease. “Ye getting all worked up again? I better not catch ye out back again.”

You shake your head, though he's right to think that way. Cleansing yourself has been on the back of your mind, not only the holy kind but what they can bring you with a different kind of force. 

There's the sprout of desire that's grown bigger and bigger, as if some dry seed had always resided inside you and they had watered it back to life.

“I'm not,” you finally say, though too much time has passed and it's clear Johnny doesn't believe you.

The door opens and you're saved by the interruption. A new anxiety forms as multiple people enter, curling suddenly like a hook. Simon, Gaz, Gaz's wife and Price step in.

“Tyra,” Gaz says. “Where's my little Tyra?”

The baby shrieks again, reaching her hands out. You see the resemblance to both Gaz and her mother now, seeing them up close again. She claps for Gaz, her mother behind him and smiling at you gently.

“How are ye, Kari?” 

“I'm well, thank you,” Kari says. She's always so soft, so glowy every time you see her. No wonder Gaz has scooped her up, you think you'd have also planted a baby in her belly if you were both able and a viking. Such thoughts sometimes arrested you at random in the convent, admiring the other women and dismissing them as silly. 

You try not to put more weight into them now, as it doesn't serve your predicament. 

But still, you admire Kari. 

“And you?” her eyes soften.

“Well,” you parrot. There’s no way to explain how unwell you really are - or how your well-ness is causing that unwellness. It's confusing enough for you.

“She's settling in,” Simon says. He's trading looks like Price, whose beard is becoming a little overgrown.

Gaz takes Tyra, who babbles happily. For a moment it's like this place isn't all evil and temptation, but also love and care. It's easy to get lost in the image of Gaz and Kari making kissy faces to Tyra, who is unknowing of the world and happy to be in it.

They don't linger long. There are words exchanged that you don't pay attention to, hands clapped and Tyra kissed goodbye. You learn that she's nearly two, still a baby but getting bigger. Price teases the couple about their next as they leave, making Kari laugh a hearty laugh that fills you with warmth.

It evaporates a little when you're left with Simon and Johnny and silence, the atmosphere changing to something unfamiliar. This boundary you'd crossed with them has left you someplace awkward, with you mostly lost in your head.

Simon is good at getting you out of that space, but he's been gone often since the incident and Johnny's intensity tends to push you further inward.

He comes up behind you, now, and sets his heavy hands on your shoulders.

“She been like this all day?” He asks Johnny, who hums affirmatively.

Simon leans down, lips brushing the top of your head, hands squeezing your shoulders, before he pulls you backwards into his torso.

“Your god speaking to ya?” He asks. 

“No,” you say honestly. “He's silent.”

“Silent, eh?” There's a chuckle, then two. They're heathens, you remind yourself. Heathens.

“Lamb, why don't ye spend some time with the wee lady Tyra?” Johnny scoots forward on the bench, touches your knee, smiles.

“Might do you some good,” Simon agrees. “‘specially since we're goin’ on a hunt.”

You pause.

“A hunt?”

Johnny nods. 

“I'll be stayin’ behind,” he says. “Watch our little nun.”

Simon finally sits behind you, hands sliding from your shoulders to the softness of your upper arms, still squeezing.

“It's past time,” Simon says quietly behind you. He explains the yearly hunt, the walrus in the right location, the ivory they will sell and the oil they will gain for use. There's a whisper of something there, maybe longing, maybe not. You can't tell, not with his aloofness. He's closed off as a default, but he rubs your arms like he's comforting you and you decide to take it as such.

There's nothing left for you to say, so you just nod. You're still trying to resist taking on an intimate role, a wifely role, something that will make them think you've given up. You haven't yet, you might not. You have options, even if they're unpleasant or permanent. 

A shiver passes through you. That isn't what you want. You're stuck, but you have to rationalize: it isn't what you thought it would be.

You've felt good. You feel good now. The remaining pain comes from the twisting, growing shame that slowly turns in a circle and ensnares your insides.

That, and the taking. It still feels unfair, feels wrong. If you think on it too hard you start to feel like a thing, not a person.

Johnny seems regretful that night, a mix of pride and love for Simon warring with his need to stay home with you. He sleeps in the middle, leaving you near the wall and opting to join hands with Simon through the night. These moments humanize them to you as well – to your distress, and to your softening. 

They love each other in the way you've seen some of the villagers love each other, in the way that love is universal; it's a little different, because they're different, but it's tender nonetheless. 

Love is luck, you think. Luck enough to find someone to be tender with in a world that is hard to live in, that is so utilitarian, so survival dependent. 

Simon leaves the next morning with a group of hunters. Price leads the pack of them, slapping the backs of some of the younger ones who for them it'll be their first or second winter hunt, encouraging them. It's a mixed group with both men and women, younger and older, seasoned and green. 

You stand beside Johnny at the door, watching the group move through the village until they are gone. Johnny tells you that they’ll ride horses, but they’re further out. Lest we smell the horse shite, he laughs. Got enough on our plate with Si. The joke has a thread of longing in it.

You’ve never been truly alone with either of them, you realize. Sure, a few hours here and there, but never for the days that Simon plans to be gone. Never slept alone with either of them.

Simon has been somewhat of a buffer, even if he’s the one who initiated the incident and carried it out. He balances the infinite well of restlessness Johnny has.

It’s frightening and comforting all at once. For one, you don’t feel like a bug pinned by its wings, even if that means you’re even more anchor-less than before. Simon is solid despite his surliness, and without him to steady the dynamic you worry.

“Ah dinnae know what to make,” Johnny bemoans. He wants to prepare some kind of gift as a surprise. “Already got too many statues.”

“Statues?” you ask, tilting your head towards him.

“Aye,” he nods, moving to a far corner of the house. He produces a little leather pouch, then little carved wooden figurines. One of them is a wolf, the other a bird.

“You made this?” you take one delicately in your hand, as if it would break. Statues, he said. They’re cute, clearly having been made with care.

Turning the wolf in your hand, you admire the polished shine of the wood.

“Aye,” he says again. “Si’s got too many.”

He spends a portion of the day puttering about, stoking the fire, sharpening various tools. You can’t tell if he’s restless because Simon is gone, or if you hadn’t noticed his restless nature as much because Simon was his outlet.

An urge rises in you, that screaming urge you know more intimately than anything else, awakened and restless like a hungry beast – it stirs as Johnny stokes the fire, crouched and with his back to you.

The only way to go if not out is in and you won’t. Push him in, you think. If you want out, push him in. 

But you won't. There’s darkness at the core of you to be sure, but not that kind of darkness. Not the kind both he and Simon are steeped in. Violence, sadism maybe.

That would make you the other side of the coin. 

The same swirling pattern of thoughts plague you even as Johnny serves you fish and more turnip for dinner, even as he pulls you into bed for that night and wraps himself around you.

You want to kick. To scream. To have a fit. Some insane, perverse fit; something that would have earned you an exorcism or an execution in the village. These thoughts come unbidden to you as you try not to feel the grasp of Johnny’s hand to your waist, nor the scruff of his beard on your throat. 

Your identity has shifted, already. You aren't dead inside, not anymore. Not hoping for some outer force to take you away.

An outer force has taken you, and now you wrestle with the ramifications on your spirit.

It's unclean now, surely. But hadn't it always been?

Hadn't you willed this?

Happy faces appear in your mind. Kari. Tyra. Gaz. Price. Johnny. Simon is too hard to read, but the way he treats Johnny is enough to convey some kind of contentment.

And then the look at breakfast. The baby. Johnny’s gentle cooing, his attention. Simon’s hands squeezing you, reassuring you.

They contribute to the degradation of your spirit, to each rend of the glue that has held you together since first consciousness.

You try to hold onto the fear from before. Their words from before – behave and we won’t kill you. Does that still apply? Are you still under an ever present, looming threat? Were they only trying to get you moving? 

Some part of you shudders to realize that it doesn’t feel that way. Even when they had sprung it on you to marry you, you hadn’t felt the same mortal fear as when they had absconded with you. 

No, it had been hurt. Disappointment. The fear had shifted with your identity, staying present but becoming unfamiliar.

The you that they had taken was unfamiliar too. She’d have never built snowmen, nor ground her pussy into the hand of a viking and relaxed into another’s hold as you are now.

You wanted to live, you think. Even then.

A couple days pass. Johnny finally finds a suitable enough gift for Simon, a double edged blade he’s carving and sharpening.

The sight of it makes something tighten in your chest, so you avoid looking at it.

Between you both, it’s less awkward than you worried about. You come to a different understanding of him, one that comes from watching his independence without Simon. They truly do fit together, you think. Complement each other.

What about you? Are you here for them to have other options? A cunt, you think crudely. Something that gets wet without extra effort, something easy. You’ve certainly not made it hard. The thought puts you in another stink, frowning down at the pair of linen summer pants you’d found and started to mend.

“What’s this face ye got on?” Johnny steps up to you, setting the heavy blade on the table, and sitting.

You don’t speak, you just sew. Are you just a womb? Is that it?

“Awe, lamb,” he leans forward, hands finding the tops of your thighs and leaning on them. “So sour.”

When you still don’t respond, he reaches to take your sewing. You lose some bearing and prick him with the needle, frissy that he’s trying to take you out of your ruminations.

Provocative.

“Och,” he waves his hand, then laughs. “Prickly, are we?”

He forces the fabric from your hands, squeezing your hand until it opens with the needle and thread. You make some kind of irritated sound, like a growling cat, still half in reality and half in your mind.

“Ye’ve been stuck,” he pokes your forehead. “Stuck here, eh? Let me fix that.”

And then you’re pulled up to your feet, steered to the bed, and pushed before you can adapt.

“Simon’ll have’tae forgive me,” he murmurs. You’re sat on the edge, looking down at him with a frown.

“What-” you make a strange, caught off guard squeaking sound as he pushes you by the shoulders, lifting the edge of your dress.

“Sh,” he says sharply. “Should’a done this days ago.”

“Wait- don’t-” you slam your knees shut, trying to sit back up. Something sharp you can’t name explodes outwards from your chest, sharp spikes pricking your lungs and your heart, twisting.

Your struggle is mostly futile, though it’s easier that Simon isn’t here. Your arms flail, your legs scoot you away up the bed.

“Noo-” you try again. Your fear stems mostly from the uncertainty of what he’ll do, of the fear that he’ll steal the last true thing you have; your virtue. 

“Relax,” he strong-arms you into lying down, arms crossed at your chest and his huge hand keeping them pushed down.

He positions himself parallel to you, replacing his hand with his bigger knee, his face right where he wants it.

“Ye should’ve asked me, lamb,” he murmurs, then kisses the hair above your pussy. Your stomach tightens, breath coming out in strained gasps from the combined weight of his knee and your shame.

You’re wet.

“I won’t smack ye if I don’t have tae,” he says. His hands rub up your hips, then your thighs, before coming up to your pussy and spreading your lips open.

Your clit strains in the open air, a cool breeze from the gaps in the door making it jump. He watches for a moment, cruelly, listening to the sound of your laboured breathing.

Then he dives in, tongue first. Because of the angle, his tongue dips down towards your hole while his lower lip catches your clit, making you gasp.

“Let me,” he hums, pauses. “Let me take care of ye, lamb.”

And God, he does. Johnny licks over you like a starved man, sucking your labia before flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit again as sounds come out of you like someone is pounding a fist into your chest.

He slurps your wetness obscenely, using his fingers to scoop whatever leaks from your hole as best he can and bringing them to his mouth to suck clean. He murmurs fervently about how good you taste, how he can smell the desperation from you.

“So neglected,” he sucks the wetness from your hair, even. “Forgive me.”

He’s talking to your cunt again, leaving you trembling against the bed and tightening, tightening, rising, rising–

He stops. 

You damn near scream, but the sound gets trapped where he’s still putting his weight on you.

“I’m gonnae move, and yer gonnae stay right there all sweet for me, aren’t ye?” he turns to look at you, and though you can hardly see him you nod.

He lifts off, making you grunt involuntarily, then switches positions so he’s on his hands and knees nearly on top of you.

“Open those legs,” he says. Leans down to kiss your sternum over the fabric of your dress. “Let me ease yer mind.”

You can feel yourself falling further from grace, but God help you – you open your legs.

Johnny keeps eye contact as he slides down, getting on his stomach with those piercing blue eyes cutting through you.

When his mouth touches your cunt again, you feel yourself start to shake, growing more insane by the second. His tongue touches your hot, swollen flesh, dragging wetly against everything sensitive. He’s like an animal, you think. A heathen. No wonder these people have not seen God’s light. No wonder it does not reach here.

Something so sinful, so good, couldn’t possibly exist in the puritanical world you’d been taken from.

God, you think again, body twisting against the sheets, is this really what they kept from us?

“Please,” you cry out. Please stop? Please continue? It’s a plea for more than just Johnny, more than God. It’s a question that burrows deep in your mind and begs you to understand yourself, to untangle, to feel and release.

And oh, you’re breathing, breathing in, breathing in perhaps for the first time in your life. You wrench his hair in your fists, uncaring, screaming into the cold winter afternoon without a care. Your back arches, tilting your cunt further into his face, legs straining, gushing. Blood rushes in your ears, deafening you, once again turning the world into a small point where you can neither hear nor see.

All you can do is feel, ride, undulate. This is that fit you’d wanted earlier, it’s some insane hysteria, some sin that feels like ecstasy. 

Your nipples tighten, stimulated by the chill of the air and the scratch of your woolen dress. Your peak is maddening, drawn-out and pushed further by Johnny’s lips suctioned around your clit and sucking in hard.

The moment you truly finish, when the stimulation turns to discomfort, you release his hair and push at his head.

“Stop,” you gasp. “Stop it.”

He doesn’t. His hands find your thighs, holding you open, running his tongue from your clit and then piercing it into your hole. His nose rubs on you, and though tears spill from your eyes you grind into it, crying for him to end it.

“One more,” he grunts.

“No,” you moan. Then you peak again, mouth open in a silent scream and eyes screwing shut, the fusion of sharp, near-painful pleasure and actual, overstimulated pain brings you a climax you could have never imagined of on your own.

You weep again as he pulls away, feeling raw and tender. 

Boneless.

You wake in the middle of the night bundled and in both furs and arms. You’re pleasantly sore, pulsing a little still between your legs where Johnny’s thigh keeps you company. He’s so warm, so comfortable, that it’s easy for you to fall back asleep.

You wake again in the early morning, so early that the light of dawn hasn't yet breached the cabin.

Johnny snuffles behind you. Nose on your shoulder, hands migrating to rest just below your breasts.

“Mmmlamb,” he murmurs.

Your muscles are heavy, still. Weighed down with relaxation. It's true that you had gotten worked up, and that his actions had helped. You don't find any shame, not now. You've found a rare pocket of respite.

Simon is due back in a day or two unless there are extenuating circumstances. A winter storm, maybe. Or an errant predator. 

What would life look like if he never returned? It’s an uncomfortable thought. You’re still on the edge of how you feel, teetering between extremes, but you rely on them both for survival.

Where could you go? Even when you’d ran, the plan had been borne of heart, not mind. Without Simon or Johnny, you’d be in a terrible precarious situation.

Without Simon permanently? You weren’t sure.

You very slowly extricate yourself from Johnny’s arms, sliding out of bed and into the cold air. The fire is just coals, so you add a few pieces of wood and stoke it for the day. In the dark, you can see the reflection of the fire in the sword Johnny had left on the table.

You pad to it, staring, curious and afraid. It looked orange from the fire, only darker. It looked like your beautiful red ochre dress, your blood dress.

You reach your fingers out and stroke along the blade, breathing shallowly in the dark.

Dawn breaks.

[whtepony]

NSFW ALPHABET | eijiro kirishima

ft. eijiro kirishima x afab reader

warnings: no pronouns used but reader has a vagina, cucking, i think that might be it? this one isn’t too crazy y’all!! not proofread!

notes: for everyone who asked for kiri!!! he’s so husband material aghhhhhdbdndjdj hope u guys enjoy

aftercare: what he’s like after sex

i think he’s one of the most attentive partners you could have! he asks you directly what he can do for you while he’s cleaning you up a bit with a warm towel. he’ll give you anything you ask for, whether it be food, water, a shower, something funny to watch, or to just cuddle and be together. he likes to massage your hips while you spoon just in case he hurt you (even if you tell him a dozen times he didn’t). he just wants to make sure!!

body part: his fav on you and his fav on himself

on himself, eijiro likes his back and shoulders. he puts in a lot of time at the gym and it shows! he’s very proud of it and loses his mind if you compliment his back muscles. god damn. on you, he likes your legs - yeah, mostly your thighs, but really all of your legs. he loves when you wear things that show them off and has a tendency to kiss you from your ankles alllllll the way up before he eats you out. he has a picture of him laying between your thighs that was definitely his lock screen for a long while.

cum: anything to do with cum

eijiro is a smart man. unless you’re actively trying for a baby or it’s a really special occasion, he avoids cumming inside you so you have a lower chance of any surprises. but goddd if it isn’t his favorite thing in the world. he enjoys finishing on your ass or stomach but nothing compares to how it feels to paint your insides. he thinks it’s partly a possessive thing - seeing his cum drip out of you makes him feel like only he could ever do this, like he’ll be the only one to ever claim you that way. asks you soooo politely to take a picture on the few occasions it does happen and keeps them in a hidden folder that he opens when he’s missing you.

dirty secret: a dirty secret of his

he secretly would like to be cucked but doesn’t think it’d be emotionally healthy for him, so he never brings it up. he’s actually very possessive and probably couldn’t handle sharing you like that. but every once in a while, he’ll fantasize about watching katsuki fuck you in front of him, only to shake the thought from his head immediately afterwards. he’s more likely to bring up a threesome than to ever bring up this fantasy of his, because then he could be involved in some way - he’d have some sense of control then. as hot as it could be, he’s worried that his best friend would fuck you better!

experience: how experienced is he?

you’re definitely not his first, but there haven’t been very many before you. i’d say he’s probably had three or four previous partners and he clearly learned a lot from being with them! he’s a very attentive lover and a quick learner. he pays attention to what you like and don’t like, and he’ll check in with you often to make sure you’re enjoying yourself.

favorite position: self explanatory

he is a doggy and prone bone LOVERRR. literally anything that lets him look at and grab your ass. he’s an ass man and these give him a great view!! he loves how deep he can get in either position, and especially likes being able to put his full weight on top of you in prone bone. he won’t hurt you, but he knows you like being pressed up against each other like that and it gives him easy access to kiss your neck n talk in your ear. it also makes him feel hugeee bc he easily covers your entire body.

goofy: is he more funny or serious in the moment?

i think he’s a good mix of both! he loves to make you laugh but is capable of completely ruining you in the next second. he’s aware that sex is kinda funny sometimes and will take advantage of that (especially if something isn’t going as planned) but not to the point where it ruins the mood.

hair: anything to do with grooming

he doesn’t shave but keeps it in check. he keeps it trimmed fairly short and is pretty good about maintaining it, but he doesn’t mind shaving if you ask him to. he couldn’t care less about whether or not you shave bc either way he is IN THEREE. truly does not have a preference and will tell you how pretty you look no matter what. he just wants you to feel confident in yourself, so he likes whatever you like!

intimacy: how is he with the romantic aspect?

he is very tender and loving. not to be mistaken with gentle. he could be fucking the life out of you but you can still tell he’s doing it with soooo much adoration for you. this man worships the ground you walk on. he kisses every inch of your skin and tells you how incredibly beautiful you are to him because he means it! eijiro is the number one loverboy and plans out super romantic sex for anniversaries and your birthday. he’s the type of man to hit you with the trail of rose petals and candlelight before fucking your brains out just because he loves you!

jack off: anything to do with masturbation

he has a pretty high sex drive so depending on how much he gets to see you, he jerks off fairly often. he doesn’t like porn but has an album in his phone full of pictures you’ve sent him or the two of you together. sometimes if he knows you’re not busy but can’t be with you for some reason he’ll call you for phone sex because the sound of your voice helps him get off. bonus points if you’re touching yourself at the same time

kink: a kink of his

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again. eijiro kirishima has a size and strength kink. he LOVES being bigger than you and showing off his strength in bed. a big fan of a mating press because it’s just so easy to fold you in half! even if you’re tall or plus sized he is so so strong and the way he handles you makes it seem like you’re tiny. he’s also like. huge. so you probably are small compared to him, no matter what. this extends to how big his dick is as well - he’s thick and seeing the way you literally stretch around him drives him insane.

location: his favorite place to do it

eiji just likes to have you in bed, away from anyone else’s eyes or other distractions. he likes having the space to kinda toss you around and wants you to be as comfortable as possible. he’s okay with other places around your place if you live together, but ultimately he’s gonna want to have you in bed, which also makes aftercare and cleanup easier!

motivation: what gets him going

uh, the wind? anything you do has this man bricked up. wearing his clothes? doing your makeup? talking? laughing? bending over? kissing him? he’s ready. everything you do is sexy to him. he does especially love when you initiate though; you coming to him and letting him know you’re in the mood will always do it for him. he likes to feel wanted by you, so tell him you want him! if you come up behind him while he’s doing something and start rubbing his shoulders while you whisper in his ear he will take you to bed as soon as humanly possible.

no: something he won’t do

i feel like he isn’t into degradation at all. he thinks it doesn’t feel natural and why would he want to be mean to you anyway? he doesn’t mean any of that, so why would he say it? the most you could get out of him is him calling you a slut or something but even then it takes some convincing and he’ll only do it if he’s absolutely positive you want it. he has moral qualms with slut shaming and doesn’t really like calling you anything in that vain 😭

oral: preference giving or receiving

d1 eater. munch. face seat. this guy loves eating pussy and genuinely could die happy between your thighs. he likes receiving, don’t get me wrong, but he absolutely adores making you cum on his tongue. he’s waking you up with it and putting you to sleep with it. if he grew facial hair he’d be one of those guys that has bleached patches because he is just alwayyyssss eating you out. he likes having you sit on his face and will pull you down onto his mouth if you start to lift your hips. argue with the wall he is a MUNCH!

pace: fast, slow, stamina, etc

i think his stamina is pretty average and he tends to go fast and deep. his strokes are consistent and he’s good at pacing himself so he won’t get too tired before he can make you cum. he never ever finishes before you because he’s a gentleman! he usually is done after one round but if you want more he’s happy to use his mouth and fingers until you’re satisfied.

risk: is he game to experiment or take risks?

he has no problem trying new things but it’s usually something brought up by you. he knows what he likes and doesn’t typically feel the need to switch things up unless you express that desire. he isn’t particularly risky (e.g public sex) but he’s happy to experiment privately! sometimes he’ll see a tiktok or tweet about something you haven’t tried together and send it to you in case it was something you were afraid to bring up. he wants you to be able to tell him about the things you’re curious about so you can try them together, and he isn’t particularly bothered if it doesn’t work out!

stamina: how many rounds can he go?

like i said he’s usually satisfied after one round but on occasions where he’s particularly excited or pent up he can go two or (rarely) three rounds. you guys have sex often so he usually doesn’t feel the need to go several rounds, and he also gets overstimulated pretty easily, so he needs a little bit of downtime in between!

toys: does he own toys? does he use them?

he owns one fleshlight from before you got together but hardly ever uses it. once in a blue moon if you’ve been apart for a long time he’ll bring it out but he usually doesn’t feel the need to. he doesn’t mind using toys together but i don’t think he necessarily goes out of his way to do so! but uh if he catches you using one he’s finishing you off with it before fucking you himself.

unfair: how much does he like to tease?

eijiro kinda spoils you but he doesn’t really care. in his eyes, you deserve it! he doesn’t tease you too much because if you even give him the slightest signal that you want something he’s folding immediately. he just wants to make you happy! he’s not a fan of orgasm denial, he much prefers to overstimulate you if anything.

volume: how loud is he?

like i said before he’s all in your ear lmao. i wouldn’t say he’s loud but he’s very vocal. he moans so so so pretty and gets louder when he cums. he’s fairly talkative as well, he tells you alllll about how good your pussy feels and how good you’re taking him. he’s capable of being quiet but why would he be? he wants you to know how good you make him feel so why would he ever hold it back? he doesn’t understand guys who are quiet in bed and never has. he loves to tell you how much he adores you when he’s giving you the dicking down of the century and he thinks it’s cute when you get all flustered from it!

wild card: random headcanon

he whines if you pull his hair. that’s it.

x-ray: what’s going on underneath those clothes?

whew. 6.7 inches hard and sooo thick and heavy. slightly thicker just below the tip. he has a few prominent veins and it’s so so pretty just like the rest of him!! his tip is slightly pink and tbh he leaks a lot of pre, especially when you start touching him. he’s just gorgeous. i can’t even explain it.

yearning: how high is his sex drive?

high!! his love language is physical touch and this definitely extends into your sex life. he’s crazy about you and genuinely always wants to be touching you. if you’re living together, you probably have sex four or five times a week on average; he specifically makes time for it, even if your schedules clash. he wants you to know how much he appreciates you and shows it through world ending orgasms

zzz: how fast does he fall asleep afterwards?

he gets a short little burst of energy directly afterwards, which he uses to clean up and get you taken care of in any way you might need. but honestly, he is crashing not long after. he puts a lot of effort in! once he’s sure you’re comfortable he is knocked tf out in minutes and sleeps like the dead. he gets great sleep because if you’re around, you’re basically fucking each other to sleep most nights!

[killa-cookie]

how wwould the beast cookies react to gluttony reader wanting to eat them simply out of adoration but doesn't want to kill them so they resort to things like biting or sucking

I'll be calling this one a lovesick gluttony

A bit suggestive in a way..?

Oh how you ADORED (beast)

You just wanted to worship them, embrace them, maybe even try a little bit of them.. Would they be sweet? Spicy? Sour? Oh how you wanted to find out

REACTIONS

-

MYSTIC FLOUR

Oh my, when you were Temperance she knew you had at least some feelings for her... But now you have no self control, so you're just now ranting to her about how much she was so dear to you... She's enjoying the attention though. She finds it a bit endearing that the light of gluttony would hold back just for her.

If you bite her playfully, she'll let you be (as long as you don't actually bite her, but if you do she'd heal herself and probably send you somewhere you can eat as much as you want)

Don't. Lick . Her. She tastes bland anyway.

- you two were just chilling in the ivory pagoda, her listening to your rants as always. Your rants were rather interesting, they would always change topics at random times.

As she was peacefully meditating while you were talking to her, suddenly she just felt some sharp teeth digging slightly into her arm. She looks down to see your not so innocent face just nomming on her.

"...What is it are you doing dear?

-

BURNING SPICE

Holy shiagut he is SPICYY AFFFF

He's flattered, you ease his boredom whenever you try and bite him... (Definitely when you lick him augrhrhiej) he also laughs when you pull back from how spicy he is.

To be honest, he finds it cute that you bite him out of adoration. Although he knows that you can't handle his damn spiciness, he still kinda wants you to bite him more (think of this in the way you want to, or not.)

I'd advise you not to lick him, If you do the spiciness gets to you even more.

- you two were resting on a couch he had in his temple, he was ranting about the chaos and destruction he had caused. And slandering golden cheese cookie.

You were listening intently to every word he had been saying, not a single letter forgotten. You had thoughts racing in your mind, what would my dear taste like?

As he was ranting, he paused as he felt a mouth running along his arm. You were just kinda trying to get a taste of him. And shit he was spicy

" what darlin'? Too hot for ya?"

-

SHADOW MILK

Since canonically, gluttony still hates the shit outta this man... They would try to eat him out of anger, and spite.

But his lovesick fantasies THINK you're doing it out of adoration. But even though he thinks that he is not letting you near him. He's seen what you've done to other cookies. You would be trying to eat his legs and he'd be like -owhh you love me smile you wanna eat off my legs-

- you hated him so damn much, you don't remember why, but you just hate the hell outta this guy.

You were visiting the spire of deceit, just needing to give some things to him. And maybe try to eat some bits of him, does his hat taste good? Probably not

He sees you and immediately rushes to you. He's saying hi and all those cutesy shit, it was annoying you. Especially those dang nicknames of his.

You charge forward and try to bite his head off, but he quickly retreats back.

"Awhhh, do you adore me so much you wanna get a taste of me? Nom-nom nemesis over here showing their love in such bizarre ways!"

(Bizarre?.... ( jotaro menacing menacing(

[waynes-multiverse]

Hi, I first wanted to say that I’m a big fan of your work, I’m constantly rereading your fics and they have really helped me escape from my busy Uni schedule. I was hoping you could write some smutty head canons about dean, no pressure ofc. I hope you enjoy your day and thank you for taking the time to create and post fics for people like me who need a way to escape their hectic lives.💕

Aww, thank you so much, lovely! I gladly support the escapism 🥰

Sorry this took me so long! I was on a bit of a break there, but I was so excited to get into this. God knows I have so many headcanons 😆

Hope you’re doing well and hope you enjoy this 🤍

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18 for some smutty content (duh)

Main Masterlist || Tag List

Headcanon: Gettin’ Down and Dirty with Dean

Dean is very hands-on, which means he’ll touch you whenever he can, even if it’s just a hand on the small of your back while you’re pumping gas or walking into a bar.

This also means he takes PDA to a whole new level. He teases you under the table when you’re doing research in the library or eating in the kitchen. He weaves his arms around you when you’re doing dishes. He trails kisses down your neck while you’re cooking.

Especially while you’re cooking. Something about food just turns him on. So much so that every once in a while he stands in front of your door with some whipped cream, chocolate sauce, a cute wiggle of his eyebrows, and a giant grin, begging you to be his dessert.

Sam is mostly annoyed by his brother’s indiscretions, though. Too many times (almost every damn day) Dean has walked into the kitchen in nothing but his gray robe and announced his morning wood to you, not seeing Sam sitting in the corner. That’s when Sam usually folds his paper, takes his coffee, and hurries to the library before Dean’s hands find their way to your body once more.

Sam suffers the most, however, if there’s only one motel room available and the three of you have to share. Dean has zero self-control (and also doesn’t care what Sam sees or doesn’t see). While he cuddles you, he holds you so close to his body that it’s hard to breathe. And again, hands and lips – they wander. Constantly. The man doesn’t possess an off-switch.

It got so bad that Sam has established a rule that the two of you are not allowed to share a bed anymore and Dean has to take the couch for the night. But as soon as his little brother has dozed off, he crawls right back into the warm comfort of your bed.

Speaking of rules, Dean loves breaking them. If there’s a sign that says “Do not enter,” you can be sure as hell he’ll shove you in there and will enter you. For Dean, there’s no such thing as bad timing or an inappropriate place. He even breaks rules that don’t exist and are just common sense like, “Do not have sex in a museum while you’re breaking into said museum.”

And while he loves breaking rules, he also loves following them. Especially when it’s “sexy rules.” He loves when you playfully push him around, when you shove him backwards onto the mattress and tell him what to do. He will smirk at you giddily all the way through and be the best damn boy you’ve ever seen.

Overall, he’s curious about your fantasies and constantly asks you want you want to do. He enjoys it when you take the lead in the bedroom and loves to see what you come up with. He loves being underneath you and watch you ride him with his bottom lip tugged behind his teeth. It barely hides his huge grin. He loves to see your tits bounce from this angle. According to him, it’s the best goddamn view in the world – forget the Grand Canyon.

However, when he’s had a bad day or a rough hunt, he actually likes to be in charge. It all depends on his mood. But taking control of you helps him cope with the things he can’t control in this world. So whenever he comes home with tense shoulders and a tightly creased brow, you know you’re in for a treat.

When he orders you around with his deep voice and sharp tone, you melt into a puddle and only all too happily oblige to his every command. Your legs grow weak when he dominates you with just a look. God, he loves the way you whimper and squirm underneath him, loves how you moan his name when you’re on all fours in front of him, and loves how your lips feel around his cock when you suck him off.

You love to give him comfort in whatever form he pleases. And Dean loves that you trust him with all your heart – and he knows to never betray it. He will always respect your limits, even though he gently pokes them sometimes, testing how far he actually can go.

Sometimes he bends rules like he bends you.

And truth is, he can go pretty fucking far. There’s not much you won’t let this man do. His dirty mouth can convince you to do all kinds of things – things you would for sure refuse if anyone else was asking. But it’s Dean, and one look of his sparkling green eyes will have you on your knees for him.

But honestly, Dean is the same kind of whipped for you, too. He will do anything for you, short of moving actual mountains. Massages, hot baths, ice cream at midnight? He’s got you covered and doesn’t expect anything in return, except for your unconditional love. He’s got it either way, but you do have to reassure him sometimes.

Dean’s a giver, not a taker, so you do have to force him sometimes to ask for the things he wants. But boy, when he gives, he goddamn gives with both of his massive hands. After he’s done with you, there’s not a single inch of skin left on your body that hasn’t been worshipped. You always come first – literally.

Dean takes pride in making you cum, and it doesn’t matter with which body part of his he does it. They are all equally skilled – his fingers, his lips, his tongue, and his dick. He eats you out and fucks you like there’s no tomorrow, because you both know in a life full of monsters, there actually might not be one. He makes every night and every day count.

Then, there’s his mouth. It should be no surprise, but it’s goddamn filthy. He could make you come with words alone, and not rarely, he sure likes to try. A lot of times it’s stuff you haven’t even heard, dreamed, or thought about until Dean’s said it and put it in your goddamn head.

And yes, Dean’s very sexual and a great lover through and through. He enjoys sex, but most of all, he enjoys going to sleep and waking up next to you. He loves cuddling with you on the couch during a movie, he loves holding you close at night, and he loves that special moment when you’re both coming down from your highs and are still connected, bathing in the afterglow.

Dean has been so touch-starved all his life that he enjoys the little things. He loves when your fingernails caress his back and massage his scalp. He loves using you as his freaking pillow. At this point, you’ve learned not to drink too much water before bed, because you know you won’t be able to escape his prison of strong arms – not that you’d ever want to (unless you really do have to pee).

I honestly could've went on and on and on with this one... 😂

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[amourisms]

souvenir sent me to heaven, if you’re taking requests i’d love to see a part 2 or another wally one shot. you’re amazing! <3

tease.

summary : who knew wally was so sentimental about his souvenirs?

pairing : wally west x fem!reader

warnings : oral ( f rec ), gag used, fingering, dirty talk, wallys a bit nasty in this one, vibrator ( its him ), edging, begging.

wc : 2k

a/n : been meaning to get around to this for a while hope you enjoy ily

read part one here !

this. this was a golden opportunity, and now all you had to do was wait for wally to get back. you were only snooping around his room to find a mission file but what you uncovered was so much better.

it wasn't long before wally came back zipping all around the place, before finally stopping in his bedroom. if he was shocked to see you, he didn't show it. instead he only asked, "what are you doing in my room?" your hands were placed behind your back holding your little discovery and a shit-eating grin was plastered on your face that you couldn't control. "better question is… what was this doing under your pillow?" you asked teasingly, removing your hands behind your back and waving your panties in front of his face. the same panties he stole from you as a souvenir. your relationship with wally stayed unchanged for the most of it, but ever since the kitchen incident you hadn't stopped thinking about it. about him.

it hadn't been long but neither of you hardly said a word to each other since, and you had just assumed he was indifferent to what happened. but this? this truly was something else, and you'd be damned if you weren't going to act all smug about it. "wallace west, the honourable kid flash," you stretched out the word as you stepped closer, "tell me, what do you do with these?"

his lips were pursed together and his eyes flickered around in thought before he answered, "you want the honest answer or some bullshit one?" you didn't even need to open your mouth as a slight tilt of your head and darkened glare said all he need to know. "well if you reaaally want to know," he stepped closer, "its my favourite souvenir. keep it under my pillow for safekeeping and easy access" he says nonchalantly. you try to hide the shock enveloping your features but ultimately he noticed it faster than you did. "you're horrible," you tell him with a reluctant smile on your face. "horrible? i haven't even told you what i do with them yet." he says feigning hurt.

"i rub them all over my cock," he steps closer, "i think about your hands all over me, the way you said my name, how you looked on your knees" he steps closer, "how fucking heavenly you felt." your breath hitches in your throat, and its only then you realised you've been trapped between him and his bed. his hands find a home on your hips, which made you melt enough for your brain to ditch any remaining self control you had left. he embraces your lips messily, like all his self control had been thrown to the wind as well.

before you can wrap your arms around his neck he pushes you back onto the bed with zero warning. before you can get mad at him, wally climbs on top of you and starts kissing on your neck. somehow, he simultaneously manages to remove your clothes as he continues kissing down your body. his fingers hook under the waistband of your shorts, being sure to leave your underwear on. he speaks through the kisses on your stomach, "might need another souvenir." although the idea soaks his precious souvenir even more you lightly smack his arm in rebuttal to his words, "at this rate, i won't have any panties left to wear."

you can feel his smile on your skin as his hands finally move to remove your underwear. he lifts his head up, only just slightly, so you can see his piercing green eyes as he speaks, "i told you i like easy access." once he finally gets the pair off, he holds them up proudly, "such a gorgeous pair, babe, don't you think we should put them to good use?" and with that he wasted no time in stuffing them in your mouth.

before you could protest, he began to lazily drag his tongue over your cunt eliciting a soft whimper from you. it wasn't long before he began focusing on your clit, overwhelming sensations taking over your entire body. when he added a finger into the mix of it all, inserting it in your hole and gradually adding another, your hand couldn't help but grip onto his hair. your body felt out of your control as your thighs clamped around his face. now it was your turn to trap him in, and just as you didn't mind he didn't either. in fact, he wished he could stay between your legs forever.

you could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, but wally was keeping you on the edge. you tried telling him you needed to come but it all came out as inaudible mumbles. "whats that?" he asked sarcastically as his fingers remained working you up. you groaned and whimpered in response bucking your hips into his hand as further indication to what you wanted. "just tell me what you want," he tells you with a fake softness, "i can't give it to you until you ask." god, you hated wally west. even if your body showed the opposite.

as his fingers worked relentlessly inside you, it only got you more and more frustrated. he watched you in awe as you whined and wriggled underneath him, trying so badly to chase your high. in a fit of annoyance, you ended up ripping out your makeshift gag yourself and with wally's fingers slowing down in reaction you could swear you'd throw him into a wall. if only his hair wasn't so messy and tousled, and his eyes weren't so cunning, and his lips weren't curved into such a calculating smirk, and his face wasn't covered in your own juices. maybe you actually would've. instead you gave up with a sigh of defeat before softly whispering, "please, 'needa cum so bad."

he takes a second before answering, "i'm not sure you do," his tone is conniving as his fingers fasten. he truly was an evil, scheming son of a bitch. that knot in your stomach you were all too familiar with by now revived and you couldn't stop the sea of words that began flowing out, "please please please", "need you", "'want you to make me come, wally." hearing his name come out of mouth, so breathless and desperate, he finally decided to end your torture (and his considering the way his boxers felt impossibly tight and he was now rutting against the bed).

in a singular fluid motion, he had manoeuvred his arms around your thighs to force them apart against your instincts and began lapping at your juices. your hips grinded against his face while he ate you out like you were his favourite meal. you probably were. as his tongue fucked your needy hole, his nose brushed against your clit and it wasn't long before he was able to take you to the edge again. seeing you in this state, wally made every movement quicker and quicker until you could feel him vibrate. the sensation urged a moan to fall from your tongue and it only made the vibrations stronger. between his nose and his tongue, your clit and your hole, the vibrations, it all became too much. a wave crashed down, filling your entire body with ecstasy and relief. wally let you take a minute to come down as he wiped all your essence off his face with the back of his hand and took his shirt off.

you let yourself drink in his figure whilst he grabbed a condom from his bedside table before taking his pants and boxers off. you'd seen him shirtless during training before, but right now? the way his arms looked as he rolled the condom on himself and his abs contracted with every deep breath made you a lot more lustful than you'd like to admit. before he could try anything you managed to swap spots with him before kissing him again. as he kissed you back, you pushed him backwards onto the bed, so he leaned against the headboard whilst you moved your legs to either side of his. with a hand on his shoulder, you used your other to stroke his dick in slow motions. he bit your lip as his own way of telling you to go faster, but you decided to stop entirely only leaving your hand wrapped around the base of his shaft. he pulled away from the kiss only to be met with your alluring smile.

"you're a jerk, you know that?" wally told you as he leaned his head backward and looked at the ceiling accepting his karma. you leaned into his ear, "not as much as you, babe" you whispered before sliding down onto him. the action made his head snap back and his hands grab onto your hips almost immediately. you had a hand flat on his chest and another on his abs as you slowly rocked back and forth to get better adjusted to his size. you thought he stretched you out last time? this position made you feel him deeper than you thought possible.

his grip on your skin got tighter as he began to gently rock your body faster until you decided to outdo his pace on your own. your nails began to dig into his chest. you could've drawn blood but wally couldn't have cared less. in truth, it probably made him even harder and if you weren't so blissed out you most likely would've felt it.

your body moved with unwavering passion, as wally moved a hand to the side of your slack jaw. he placed his thumb in your mouth and you were quick to suck on it with a flurry of muffled whimpers rising from your throat. the entire scene was pure euphoria to wally. your brows furrowed, lips wrapped around his fingers, nails digging into his skin and your body working so desperately to chase your own high. euphoria.

wally removed his finger from between the warmth of your lips and moved that same thumb down to your clit as he kissed you. the synchronicity of his actions made your head drown in pleasure, making you moan into the kiss. "shit, you're gripping me like a vice," he told you breathlessly between kisses, "look so good fucking yourself dumb on my cock." you would've spat a remark back at him, but he was right and there wasn't a thought in your head except for him.

wally let out a guttural groan when you pulsed around him and once again his hands were on your waist as he planted his feet on the bed. he started meeting your movements with hard and fast thrusts. every movement he made had you teetering over the edge, but when your face nestled into the crook of his neck and he whispered in your ear was all the push you needed to send you over the edge. "that's my girl," he spoke in drawn out words as he noted to memorise every movement you made. he watched the rise and fall of your chest and how the hands on his chest had softened as a wave of pure pleasure washed over your body. most importantly, he took note of the way you clenched around him making his movements falter.

it wasn't long before his orgasm followed suit and you could feel him twitch inside you. a groan escaped from his lips as he bought his forehead to rest against yours. the both of you were now a sweaty, exhausted mess and the aroma of sex became noticeable as he helped you up off of him. wally took a minute as he laid beside you before sliding the condom off him and placing it into a bin whilst slipping into his boxers. you noticed he went to collect your clothes and before he could hand them to you, you rolled your eyes, "don't tell me you're taking another souvenir."

"thanks for the reminder" he answered with a growing smirk plastered on his face.

[urmum-lovesme]

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P4

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's every been is his best friend?

a/n: here's the part 2 to the gangs day out on the yacht. I thought it was about time to sprinkle some angst in here somewhere. I also wanted to give some of y/n's past, so I guess some background on her and Rafe's friendship? Also I've sort of planned out the series but in a sense it takes a little darker turn (it's giving psycho season 2 Rafe) would you guys like that or should I do something a little less creepy lmk lmk lmk. Pictures are from Pinterest so credit to who ever they belong to. ENJOY READING (I feel bad poor baby y/n and Rafe also tbh. my poor babies :( ) (kind of ooc!rafe cause would he actually act this way in season2???)

warnings: alcohol consumption, drugs, overdose, death, dismissive father figure, kind of asshole!rafe (but a redemption at the end), talk of rehab, idk what else!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was getting late, the sun was slowly setting over the horizon, the sky gradually shifting from a light blue to a dark red. Kelce and Topper continued talking, both of them clearly enjoying the sunset as they sipped on their drinks, both tipsy now, clearly proven from the cans which had ended up empty on the table. Rafe was half listening to them, his eyes however kept drifting over to y/n, watching as she sat there quietly eating her fruit. He was irritated, needing something to distract him from the petty excuse of a swimsuit which clad her bod which was laying merely feet away.

Y/n chewed on the sliced fruit the crew member had brought up for them as she looked at the three boys who were invested in their own conversation. She lifted the watermelon triangle taking a bite, the cold fruit cooling her throat as she swallowed its sweet juice, some of it dripping onto her chin, rolling down her neck to her chest. 

Rafe watched as she brought the slice of watermelon up to her mouth, his eyes fixated on the way the girls lips connected with the wet fruit. It took all his self control to tear his eyes away from her, trying hard to resist the thought of imagining those same lips on something else. He clenched his teeth as he turned his attention back to Kelce and Topper, talking their own nonsense, desperate for a distraction as he leant over and shuffled around looking for something in his bag. 

Y/n reached out taking a napkin and wiping her mouth, noticing the sticky juice which had run down her chest, fingers coming down to get rid of the residue on her skin. 

The boy dug through his bag, searching through the mess until he found what he was searching for. He pulled out the small clear baggy filled halfway with white powder, taking it out and placing it on the table next to him. Kelce glanced over as the bag appeared in front of him, a smile appearing on his face as he and Topper both realised what it was, 

“about damn time.” 

The commotion had caught her eye glancing away from the plate to the boys across from her. 

“No.”

She spoke out instantly as she realised what they were doing, the girl noticed Rafe opening up the baggy, Topper rolling up two 100 dollar bills. 

All three boys looked over at her as she spoke out, all of them being shocked by how firm her voice had been.

“Oh come on-” 

“Don’t be like that”

Topper added, both him and Kelce watching where she sat from across their table. Kelce picked up the money and began to roll it up, Rafe looking at the girl, waiting for her to give them a ‘yes’. 

“No, not on my yacht.” She sat up speaking out to the boys clearly reflecting her disapproval. They both let out groans and sighs as she firmly stated that they were not allowed to have any ‘fun’ on her yacht. Kelce slumped back against the sofa as he spoke. 

“Come on, since when was your yacht a drug free zone”

“I said no. You wanna do that, take that shit somewhere else.” She spoke coldly as she stood up placing the plate down onto the table next to her wiping her hands. 

Kelce and Topper watched as she stood up, the two of them looking annoyed that the girl had forbidden them from using on her yacht, wasn’t that the whole point of a boat day out…?

“It’s just a bit of fun sunshine.”

Kelce’s comment past by her as she noticed Rafe now making a line on the smooth surface of the table they were sitting around, 

“Hello?! I’m talking to you Rafe.” She spoke out irritated at the boy's ignorance. 

All three boys looked up from the small pile of drugs Rafe was forming on the table. Topper and Kelce now looking cautious, sitting away from the surface. Rafe on the other hand just looked annoyed at how firm she was being,

“What? What’s the problem?”

The boy had been worked up all day with y/n parading around in her bikini.

If that’s what you can call it. 

Having the urge to touch her all day all he needed was something to take off the edge.

“I’m fucking talking to you!” She spoke out harshly, hand coming out to hit one off the empty beer cans off the table they were sitting at the metal clanged loudly to the floor. 

“I said get this shit off my boat.”

The boy's eyes widened slightly as the beer can clattered against the deck, rolling away from the swaying of the yacht on the waves. Topper and Kelce both looked somewhat shocked at the way she spoke. Rafe however, not so much, he was more frustrated now.  Both the boys looked to each other, silently praying that Rafe wouldn’t upset the girl any further, not wanting to see her go off on a tangent. Rafe was too worked up to think about anything but himself right now, his eyes narrowed at the girl as he spoke, a hint of anger in his voice as he looked up from the line sitting on the table. 

“What’s wrong with you, It’s just coke-“

“-Don’t”

She snapped back at him, her brows furrowed as she looked to the boy then down to the table, 

“get this off my table before I do it myself and waste your stock.” 

Her attitude genuinely surprised them, having never seen the girl so worked up before. Kelce and Topper just sat in a stunned silence, both of them looking guilty for pissing her off - it was her yacht after all. Rafe huffed in exasperation,

What’s her deal? 

“Listen man maybe we should just-” Topper started. 

“Jesus alright, I’ll get rid of it.” Rafe spat out bitterly. 

“Don’t ever bring that on this boat again,” she turned away coldly, walking towards her seat, snatching up her t-shirt and pulling it over her head. 

Watching as she stalked over to her chair, pulling the t-shirt on aggressively. It annoyed Rafe that y/n was so bothered by him bringing a little coke onto her boat, but he knew there was no point arguing with her, to be fair she’d never done it before. Thinking about it, he never did any coke in front of her, maybe they’d smoke together occasionally but she’d never done coke, never wanted to see him do it either. He knew she had an issue with him doing it but this much? He sighed loudly as he quickly gathered up the remaining coke on the table in the baggy, shoving it back in his bag. 

“You really overreact sometimes, what’s your deal.”

Her head whipped around as she looked at his eyes narrowed angrily, 

“You know what my ‘deal’ is.” 

She scoffed, pushing herself up off the sun lounger and walking down the stairs off of the top deck. 

Rafe’s head shot up as she spoke out, he watched her  with confusion and agitation at her behaviour as she stormed off down the steps. Topper and Kelce both watched just as perplexed, with Kelce being the first to speak out,

“The fuck was that about?”

Topper ran his hand through his hair raggedly, huffing out the air that he was holding in his lungs as their interaction as he looked from Kelce to Rafe, realisation dawned on him. He knew what this was about, the girl was like his sister, both their parents worked closely over the years. He spoke up clearing his throat,

“I think it’s her brother.” 

Rafes heart stopped. 

Fuck

He’d forgotten about that. How the fuck did he forget about that, it wasn’t even that long ago. His heart picked up its pace as he brought his hand running it over his face angrily, “shit”.

Kelce and Topper both looked at each other, Kelce speaking out softly,

“You don’t think she’s still sensitive about that?”

Rafe’s heart dropped, as he held his head in his hands. He had been so focussed on trying to drown out the thoughts of the girl in her bikini, his other thoughts had left his mind. Kelce and Topper continued to sit around on the upper deck as they looked over the railing, both their eyes following the girls figure as she walked down the stairs and out of sight. Kelce spoke up, Topper interrupting;

“Maybe she’s just… I mean it was a few years ago…”

“C’mon man it was her brother, they were close.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The paramedics moved in and out of the front door, their boots heavy against the hardwood, carrying equipment and murmuring updates to one another. Red and blue lights from the ambulance and police cars outside bled into the room, casting shadows against the walls. She sat on the living room floor, her back against the couch staring blankly at the coffee table, the voices outside felt distant like they were happening miles away. She could hear her mothers wails from the porch, loud, raw and unrestrained and her father’s voice was low but tense as he spoke with the officers, his words short as he discussed what happens next.

Her brother’s lifeless face was burned into her mind, a vision she couldn’t escape. She could still feel the coldness of his skin as she shook him, the white powder tainting the desk next to his body. It made her chest tighten in shock yet she didn’t cry. 

She couldn’t.

Her phone sat beside her on the carpet, the screen black; she stared at it, unmoving, her body feeling heavy. She reached for the phone, her fingers trembling as she unlocked it, the screen was too bright in the dim room, but she forced herself to type out.

Can you come around?  (delivered 22:48)

It felt wrong, she felt guilty to burden someone else but the thought of sitting alone, drowning in silence was worse.

The sound of footsteps crunching on gravel outside jolted her from her trance. She turned her head toward the window, just as a figure passed through the flickering lights. A moment later, Rafe stepped inside through the open front door. He didn’t need an explanation—he recognised the hollow look in the girl’s eyes as he noticed her slumped against the couch. 

It was the same look he had when he lost his mom. 

She had been the one to hold him together then, and now it was his turn.

“y/n,” he said quietly, his voice soft, careful. He took a few hesitant steps toward her, his eyes landing on her. She didn’t move at first, her arms still wrapped tightly around herself. She just looked up at him, her eyes red and hollow, her face streaked with tears.

“Hey,” he repeated softer, lowering himself beside her. When she didn’t respond, he reached out gently, his hand brushing her shoulder. That was all it took—she collapsed into him, her body trembling. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, his grip firm. 

“I’ve got you,” 

he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He didn’t let go, even as her sobs quieted into shallow gasps, her hand gripping at the material of his top. He stayed, grounding her in the way she had once done for him.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice steady, 

“Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Her body was shaking as she buried her face in his chest. He caught her, his arms wrapping around her tightly, holding her like he was trying to shield her from the bright flashing lights from outside.

“...I should’ve been there,” 

She whispered against him, muffled against the material of his polo shirt, her voice cracking. 

“I should’ve done more-”

“You couldn’t have known,” he said gently, his hand rubbing slow circles on her back. “This isn’t on you.”

She shook her head, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “He was right there. He was right there in the room next to me.”

Her sobs quieted, but she didn’t pull away, letting his arms anchor her. The police had sat in front of her, Rafe's presence never leaving her side. Shoupe questioned the girl but she didn't respond, not in words, but in the quiet aching sobs that continued to wrack her body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n walked down the stairs, breath shaky as she made her way towards the lower deck, she walked to the front of the yacht, leaning against the railing as she looked down to the water. 

She was so angry. 

Well maybe it wasn’t anger, maybe she was just upset and didn’t know how to deal with it so she got angry. Her hand came up, rubbing her eye as she let out a sigh and looked down towards the water once more. Why did he do that? He knew how she felt about the subject. 

Fuck you Rafe. 

Rafe slowly stood up, looking conflicted as he looked over the railing and down toward the lower deck. His eyes spotted y/n leaning against the railing and staring out at the water, and at that point he knew he had to speak to her about it. He slowly made his way over to the steps and he made his way down towards her. 

The sound of footsteps filled her ears but she didn’t look up, eyes watching the waves which hit the side of the boat, falling and merging back with the ocean. He walked over to the girl slowly, his footsteps stopped as he stood next to her, looking out onto the water as well. He could feel the tension in the air and he knew he had to say something. It was his fault after all…

“Can we talk for a minute?”

She didn’t look over at the boy, neither did she speak. She sat in silence letting out a small hum to let him know she was listening.  He swallowed hard, knowing that he had to apologise, he knew he’d brought up some memories she didn’t want to resurface. He finally turned to look at her, his eyes watching as her eyes stayed looking forward out at the water.

“Look… uh, I’m sorry for bringing the coke. I wasn’t... it was a shitty thing to do”

She clenched her jaw as she kept her gaze away from the boy, her eyes burning slightly and she could feel the tears fighting to gather at her waterline. She shook her head in a silent acceptance of his apology. 

He could sense the discomfort radiating from her, the girl's shoulders tense as she looked away. His simple apology wasn’t going to be enough, he knew she expected him to acknowledge the real mistake. He sighed softly, before speaking again his fingers fiddling with the material of his shirt, his hand rose as he bit at his nail, a bad habit he’d picked up when he was feeling anxious.

“I’m sorry y/n…I wasn’t thinking, I forgot -  about Ethan.”

The words felt heavy coming out of his mouth, guilt starting to slip into his chest as he spoke. 

“It’s okay,” she said quietly as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She still couldn’t bring herself to look at the boy next to her but she could sense his uneasiness. The fact that she was still being so cold and distant told him that she wasn't okay. He stepped a little closer, standing beside her by the railing as he looked down towards the girl,

“It’s not. I should’ve realised-”

He paused, eyes catching the look on her face, his chest starting to ache as he realised the effect that bringing the coke onto the boat had actually had on her. She let out a sniffle hand coming up to wipe her tear before it fell down her cheek her voice shaky as her bottom lip trembled,

“You’re so mean Rafe.” 

He could feel the regret coursing through him, he knew he’d messed up, he shifted uncomfortably, the silence between them stretching longer than he could bear.

“I’m sor-,” 

He said again, softer this time, his voice almost cracking. He took a hesitant step closer, but she stiffened, and it stopped him as she cut him off.

"You always say you're sorry, Rafe."

 Her eyes flicked up to meet the boys, red-rimmed and glistening. 

His chest felt tight, guilt sinking its claws deeper. He’d never been good at this- at being someone people could count on. But looking at her now, he realized how much he wanted to be. 

For her.

"I know I screw up okay?" he admitted, his hand balling into a fist as the other flew up to his hair tugging on it aggressively as he rambled out. His voice had an edge of desperation now,

"But I’ll fix this. I swear I’ll fix it-"

 "You can’t just fix everything, Rafe. You don’t get it—" 

She let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. She broke off, her voice catching on the words, and she turned away from him, her back now a solid wall of hurt he wasn’t sure how to break through. He slowly reached out, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder,

“I know, I know it was mean of me, I’m sorry.”

She let out a shaky breath, both hands coming up to wipe her cheeks. She closed her eyes momentarily struggling to steady herself. She felt bad. She knew it wasn’t his fault for falling so deep into the rabbit hole, she blamed herself for not trying harder. 

“I thought you were quitting…” she spoke out as she turned to the boy, not even angry anymore, just upset. The look on her face was like a knife to his chest, he hated seeing her like this, especially knowing that he was the cause of it. He looked down, unable to meet her eyes,

“I know, I know…I’ve just…been really stressed out recently, I needed something to take the edge off.”

“Why don’t you just talk to me..?” She spoke out gently eyes slightly red from her tears, tip of her nose rosy from crying

His heart skipped a beat as she spoke so gently, so vulnerably. He slowly looks back up at the girl, seeing the tears in her eyes and the slight redness, his own starting to burn,

“I…I just-“ he paused, his mind searching for the word to say, his heart aching painfully, being the cause of y/n’s tears,

“I just- I don’t talk about that stuff, I’ve learned how to deal with it myself”

“You don’t have to deal with it by yourself Rafe…”

She shook her head as she looked at him. She knew it was his dad's fault he thought like this. His father always told him he needed to man up. 

 “There’s always help… I’ll listen to you”

He stayed silent for a few moments as he thought over her words. He knew that how he was raised had messed him up in a lot of ways - after his mom passed away. He had so many bad habits, one of those being the fact that he dealt with everything by himself, and liked to repress how he was feeling constantly. He only relied on himself, he didn’t let himself open up to anybody.

Except for you

Hearing that the girl was willing to listen to him, to be there for him…it comforted him, it made his heart beat a tiny bit harder, knowing she truly cared. Why else would she be nagging him for so many months about it. He knew she’d listen to him, he knew she’d ever judge him for needing to talk about his problems.

He was still struggling.

“I- know that…I just…”

“Let me deal with it too.” 

She spoke out, stepping closer to the boy, arms wrapping around him, holding him in a warm embrace.

Let me help you 

A shiver ran down his spine at her touch and the feeling of her arms wrapping around his waist as she stepped closer. His eyes closed for a moment as he relished in the feeling of the girl's body pressed against him. He could feel the tension in his own body disappearing slowly as she held him. He was still for a moment, surprised by the girl’s sudden embrace. But he quickly returned it, his own arms wrapping around her, pulling her in close against him. He took a soft breath, taking in the scent of her hair, the way her body felt against his own, trying to ground himself. He finally managed to speak his voice soft and quiet guilt laced in his tone;

“You shouldn’t have to deal with my problems…” He mumbled, his eyes still closed, “I-I don’t want to be-”

“I don’t care Rafe… you're my best friend, you don’t have to do this by yourself.”

As they stood looking out into the waves, now dark as they lapped at the boat, Rafe’s chest tightened with the weight of what he was admitting, what he was accepting. But as he looked at y/n, he felt the weight of responsibility. He knew what the girl was alluding to. She doesn't just want him to stop his habit but to get professional help. It wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time in a long time he finally felt like he was admitting the truth. He’d tried admitting before, tried telling his father but he dismissed him every time. Yet here he was, standing in front of a girl, who wasn’t even his family, who was prepared to devote her time for him. He let out a slow breath, the tightness in his chest easing just a little. “Okay,” he said softly, more to himself than to her.

“I’ll try.”

Y/n didn’t say anything more, she didn’t need to. Her hand slid down his arm to his, fingers gently intertwining with his in a quiet gesture of reassurance.

I’m gonna try for you

I promise I’ll do anything to help you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @evermorx89 @bellaed1t @user381953 @lovemanheim @loves0phelia @yourcrackleflame

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when you drunk-kissed them in front of Dreamies. 

Mark Lee

Will be frozen when you wrapped your arms around him and kissed him on the lips in front of his members! The other members will be surprised too, causing an awkward atmosphere. Mark would probably try to let out a small chuckle to break the tension, eventually placing an arm around you as he looks at his members apologetically, "Sorry, she's too drunk." would also try to calm you down if you're moving too much around the table. Lets you rest your head on his shoulder if you're sleepy.

Huang Renjun

Oh he's ears red and blushing hard right now when you peppered him with kisses in front of Dreamies. It's a good thing that no one really cares about your PDA but Renjun was still shy about the fact that his members are around you two. He'll probably lets you sit beside him, wraps his arms around your waist and gives you a small kiss on the temple as a reply so that you won't sulk. He brushes it off because it wasn't that erotic and understands that you did it because you were too drunk!

Lee Jeno

Jeno would have his signature eye smile as you cup his cheeks but he'll be eyes wide when you proceed to attack his kiss. The kiss was probably ten seconds long and will be longer if it wasn't for Jeno breaking the kiss first. The music of the bar was deafening but the silent stare from his members made him conscious about the sudden public display of affection, "We get it Jeno, you have a gf and we don't have," Haechan probably. Jeno will probably laugh it off and drags you out as an excuse to sober you up!

Lee Donghyuck

I am so sorry for the Dreamies because once you kissed Haechan, even if it was an innocent kiss on the cheeks because you were so drunk, trust me that Haechan will do every means to reciprocate the kiss! Cheeks? of course, lips? even better! That man has no self-control when it comes to you so best believe that he'll be so shameless that he doesn't care about his members at all. They'll all be gagging at the sight, thinking that "damn, no wonder they match each other." 

Na Jaemin

Jaemin is somewhat a flirt, so when you showered him with kiss, he'll like it! He'll ignore the way he was given a side-eye by his members because you kissed him in the lips and he kissed you back with much intensity. He'll have that shit-eating grin to tease his members who has a judgmental expression, "Take that somewhere hyung," Chenle probably and he'll take it! He'll take you out and tell them that he'll just sober you up but no one believes him though. 

Zhong Chenle

The moment you got your boyfriend's attention after minutes of him talking to his members, you find your way to cup his cheeks and peppered him with kisses, even leaving lip stains on his face. You ignored the way the Dreamies' expression changed from a blank one to a surprised one. Once you finished it, your hands never left but you're laughing tipsily because of your boyfriend's surprised face. Once Chenle got the hold of the situation, he'll apologize to his members because of your drunk antics but it was so so obvious that he likes it because he also has that shit-eating grin!

Park Jisung 

Jisung will sink into the depths of the earth the moment you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him for a kiss! He'll be frozen but will break it because he hears the hollering teasings from Dreamies. Look at their youngest!! He's doing a PDA at the club!! He'll be ears red but won't be mad at you because he knows you're too drunk! Probably will payback the next morning because he'll be teasing you nonstop about your sudden affection to him last night. You'll be shock and try to convince him that it didn't happened, it did because Jaemin filmed the entire thing lol. 

[phoenixyfriend]

AU where Xanatos is "redeemed by the power of cute," but it's actually a psychological whammy caused by Obi-Wan being supernaturally adorable as a species-specific juvenile defense mechanism, and is functionally immediate brainwashing by the 13yo who doesn't know that's what he's doing.

Tbh this is mostly just Defense Mechanism that makes Xanatos harmless, but in a way everyone finds very concerning and uncomfortable because it's kind of mind control.

Someone (@dracothulhu) asked if it was related to Mimic Spider AU, and it is not! Mimic spider AU is just "ohhhh you wanna fuck me so b--PSYCH! EATING YOU."

This is more "I'm a little baby, I'm SUCH a little baby, you don't want to hurt me, you could never hurt me, I'm so adorable I'm so cute doesn't it just kill you to think about hurting me?"

Mimic spider AU is just Hot and Confident. This is straight up Mind Whammie.

@threebea also thought brood parasitism, and offered:

I'm trying to figure out a reason for the Stewjoni to have like brood parasitism where they will stick their young with other families for awhile before picking them up Used to do it to Mandoalorians all the time, and it's part of the reason the Mandalorian adopt anything stereotype got so strong. Stewjoni looking at Jedi: those seem parent shaped here you go

Which is great, except I actually started with the idea of it being kind of the inverse!

(That said, I won't actually say no to the brood parasitism option.)

Xanatos: had been about to kidnap and put him on a deep sea mine now is feeding him pudding Is it he's acting normal but doing weird things or is he suddenly talking to Obi-Wan like he's an adorable puppy

He's kind of zoned out.

Xanatos: look at him so cute Omg Obi-Wan: standing there Xanatos: kriff I don't have a camera - also from threebea

Also cuddles! Which Obi-Wan actually Does Not Want. But if he's Very Very Still then maybe Qui-Gon will find him and fix this.

Like if a tiger held and groomed you and you just were waiting Very Still for the zookeeper to distract it and/or load up the tranq.

After the days he's had he'd perhaps like a cuddle but not from this guy Lol Xanatos: so soft The effect only works on humans and near humans so it didn't work on the hutt and (can't remember the other species) on the ship

We can say it works through the Force and that's why the Hutt is immune.

"Stewjoni are targets of slavers" but specifically for illegal adoptions. It's lucrative, because most bounty hunters last about twenty seconds before they give the crying baby back where it wants to go.

And most of the immune ones get caught by planetary defense forces.

So if you CAN steal a baby, the profit margin is insane, since it's so damn hard to do, but the baby up for illegal adoption is sooooo cute.

(…this concept would be hilarious with one of those "Tor adopts baby Ben Kenobi to turn into a weapon" AUs. Still a shitty childhood bc Death Watch can justify a lot under the umbrella of Teaching Self-Defense. But interesting.)

IF YOU HAVE READ TWILIGHT: do you remember the bit about vampire babies being so cute that people would let them slaughter entire villages without a qualm?

It's like that, except Obi-Wan doesn't have dreams of mass slaughter and it only really activates as a Threat Response.

I guess the evolutionary trigger is it's kind of a paralytic You can't move far from where you stole the kid

Which is exactly right!

[arpicityandneed]

Hi there! I'm so excited to hear your page is growing! Your work is amazing and I can't wait to see what you write next. Thank you for taking the time to share your work with us! 💜

If there's still space, could I ask for 2 or 10 with Steve or Bucky?

Thank you again and good luck in school!

Thanks!! It's my pleasure to share honestly.

Steve (#2 sex in front of a big window where anyone could glance up and spot them)

18+ f!reader. Cap!Steve. Dirty talk. Spanking. Semi public sex.

You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, all you could do was feel. Your cheek was pressed against cool glass as your boyfriend fucked you ravenously.

Alright maybe you shouldn't have teased him so much- each selfie sent during a tactical meeting was just your way of passing the time.

In your own defense, you'd been unsupervised.

But Steve had simply thrown you over his shoulder when he got back, ignoring your squeaks of protest. Your tshirt (his actually) was ripped in half before you got thrown on the bed, and all you got was one of his shit eating grins and a "you asked for it" before he was on you.

That was three- four? rounds ago, and at this point you weren't sure if you wanted to curse or thank Erskine's serum. Your boyfriend's stamina was endless.

"Come on pretty girl, where'd all that attitude go hm?" Steve was panting in your ear, thrusting his wickedly fat cock into your cum filled pussy over and over as his massive hand slapped your ass cheek.

"Thought you wanted my attention. Well now you have it baby." He bit down on your shoulder hard enough to leave teeth marks as you clenched down around him, every roll of his hips dragging the head of his cock over your spot and making you keen.

"Stevie," you moaned completely out of it as you fucked yourself back onto his cock shamelessly, each balls deep kiss of his tip to your cervix making your eyes cross.

"Yeah yeah, I'm here sweetheart. Just gotta gimme one more and I'll let you rest for a bit mkay?" Steve may be enthustiatic but he was still gentle with your nonenhanced body. (As gentle as you wanted him to be anway.)

All it took was his hand snaking around to find your clit before you were screaming his name, grateful for the soundproof glass of Stark tower.

Steve groaned and pulled your hips flush against his before he added even more of his super sized load to your overflowing folds. If you had hand shaped bruises on your hips tomorrow you wouldn't be surprised, but more importantly you wondered if birth control worked with super soldier sperm.

Gentle hands picked you up when you would've fallen to the floor happily, carrying you to the shower and turning on the hot water as they held you close.

"Hey baby, can you open your eyes for me?" Steve cajoled softly, cupping your cheek in his hand as you blinked up at him blearily.

"Try that shit again and I'll have Bucky deal with you, he loves putting little brats like you in their place." Your eyes widened in shock and more than a little bit of interest, and it just made Steve laugh.

"Next time baby, rest now."

~

(10 minutes prior)

Bucky moved silently, Steve's text with coordinates and a simple note 'enjoy the show' made him curious he could admit. But he wasn't expecting to see your pretty little self fucked out and pressed against the glass.

Steve had picked the perfect spot, the exact coordinates giving Bucky a private view of Steve's window and your fully naked body split open on his best friends cock.

"Well I'll be damned," Bucky muttered as he adjusted his erection in his pants.

Even 70 years later, Stevie was still a fucking punk.

[za-vandal]

Self indulgent, Pre-release Mr Reca thoughts (and hopefully prayers for me, because this man makes me salivate.)

Nsfw don't like don't read

This is filthy as hell.

Pet play, dacryphilia, and probably a few more I hadn't think of yet, this is a wild ride

I wanna make this man whimper so hard you have no fucking idea, this man makes me feral. I want to see him on the floor like a dog for me just augghhhhhhhhhh

Anyways.

Mr Reca with pet play. You saw the trailer, you will see the vision. Crazy director man who probably has a thing for controlling things because of his personality (maybe) or profession? Sign me the fuck up. I want to see this twink with a collar and leash. I want to fuck him hard and make him whimper and call him a pathetic little puppy. I want to make him wear a tail plug.

Or, alternatively, make him hump my shoe while he wears some fluffy dog ears. I see him as a dog boy, I have no idea why, but he gives possessive dog boy vibes. Bear with me here. Make him a custom collar or thigh straps with your name on it. I mean he already has them in his daily outfit, it would just make sense y'know?

Mr Reca with dacryphilia because I like my men crying and in pain. That thing about men whimpering and whining being hot is my whole personality when I'm reading fics, that is my vanilla, let's go. I want to see this pretty man crying while I suck him dry, I want to kiss his tears away while I prevent him from coming over and over. And by gods above I want to see this man full on bawling after all the overstim. Kiss away the tears because I'm soft like that.

Mr Reca but we tie him up with his straps. Why does one man need that many straps anyways? Or hell, his jacket thing works too, that shit def looks hot if he wore it without a shirt underneath like the back is 80% open, it covers nothing but it's giving everything fr. Y'all think we can hang him up with just his straps? Fuck him hard while he's up?

Mr Reca but we def filming, I shit you not that is the thing that started this post. Use his phone, your phone, do it on a private Livestream for yourself, use his freaking cameras, do it on set let's goooooooooo. I wanna watch him write his scripts as we fuck, let him sit on your dick if you can, if not cockwarm him instead. We winning no matter what. Make that man struggle and whimper, we ✨love✨ whimpering men in this house. If he feels generous maybe he'll let us wrap him up with his film tape of him being fucked and takes pictures with it. He probably won't though, but he'll probably keep them~♡ I wanna see him drool on camera so I can zoom in on his face and take pictures of it.

Mr Reca and a breeding kink???? A height difference and size kink??? I can see this going both ways. I feel like it's less breeding kink, and more he likes the feeling of cum. How to explain this? No clue. But I just think he would. Let him suck you off or eat you out, get his face wet~

For the size/height kink I think it goes both ways. I think he doesn't really care if you're smaller than him or bigger than him, he just likes it y'know? Maybe you're smaller than him but you can fuck his brains out. Maybe you're tall enough you can lift him up and fuck him against the wall without his feet touching the floor. ✨Just difference in general✨ baby. Bonus points too if you're big, I feel like he'll enjoy getting squished. Doesn't matter if you're masc or femme leaning and/or presenting, he likes getting squished.

And I hadn't really started on the real size kink idea yet, damn. Okay, size kink when he sees his stomach having a bulge as you fuck him. We love a skinny twink. I think he would see it and his mind would just go blank, like, "what the fuck, you're that big" kinda thing. Strap on or not, I think the surprise factor of seeing it is something he likes.

Mr Reca with mirrors. Listen. Trust me. Mirrors. I just love watching this unhinged man get his mind fogged by pleasure. This is a thing I love. I wanna see his face and watch him cry and watch him struggle. We've seen how deranged this man is in the trailer, now let's fuck him up literally so we can see his face more. Do it against those big, wall length mirrors you see in dancing studios if he's working on a musical or something. Do it in one of his trailers while he's out filming on set, bonus if it's not even room and we just press him against a random ahh mirror in a random trailer for costume and makeup.

I blame the unhinged energy today on my exams.

Hope you enjoyed? Well, technically I wrote this for myself but, sure. Posting this for funsies.