#like. his pink and satiny panties!!

[profoundgayness]

Absolutely criminal that there’s not more edits of Dean Winchester to Mother Mother’s Verbatim

#like. his pink and satiny panties!! #mother mother #supernatural #mothermothernatural #dean winchester #but fr Rhonda Hurley we salute you 🫡

[hamsterclaw]

hookup

Your big dumb goon's changed his hair again. Part of the Freak on a bike AU - read the rest here.

Pairing: RM x afab reader

Word count: 1.1k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Sex, swearing, big dick Joon

You have another job at the weekends, the bar girl at some swanky new club uptown.

There’s no uniform apart from skin and black satin, a bow tie if the table’s especially corny.

You’re pretty good at keeping your flammable clothes from setting alight, especially with all the cheap sparklers you bring out for the big spenders.

You step out for a breather after you’ve served your latest table, your lungs grateful for the respite from musk and sandalwood cologne, Lynx body spray.

There’s a commotion by the back door you’ve just stepped out of, you watch, amused, as two of the bouncers escort some nouveau-riche city asshole out.

Wait.

You’d know the back of that neck anywhere.

Your big dumb goon’s had a haircut since you last saw him, close-cropped to his head so you can see exactly how his hair grows out of his scalp, no extra length to weigh it down.

He looks like the fat boys you went to school with, you think you like it.

He turns, spots you braced against the wall opposite.

‘Nice suit,’ he says, smiling all over his big dumb face, easing you out of your reflex snarl so easily it’s ridiculous.

‘Nice hair,’ you say, eyeing him the way he’s eyeing you.

He runs a hand over it, leans down like he’s inviting you to touch.

You pat him on the head. His hair is softer than it looks. You try to get enough of it in your fingers to pull but you can’t.

He’s all dimples and round head, and you’re endeared.

He’s still looking at you, more than a hint of hope in his eyes, the horny motherfucker.

‘You’re too cute to fuck now,’ you say, turning up your nose at him to head back inside.

He just laughs as he follows you back in, when the hell did this dumb goon become so cocky?

***

You usually get changed after work, who the hell wants to be walking around the nightclub district at 3am in a satin choker and stripper heels, but you’ve been thinking about him all night.

His stupid new haircut and how you want it between your legs.

You wander casually round the front to say goodbye to Yugyeom the bartender, look around.

Your big dumb goon doesn’t let you down.

His hands are shoved in the pockets of his suit pants, head hung so you don’t have to look up so much to see him.

‘Wanna ride?’ he asks, tongue in his literal cheek, making his dimple pop.

‘Yeah.’

You want to ride everything about him.

***

His car’s parked three streets over next to the underpass where you first met.

‘Where’s your bike?’ you ask, a tease in your voice.

‘I got my license, remember?’

He slides into the driver seat, reaches over to open your door, his pants stretched over his thighs, tight.

He catches you looking, you weren’t trying to hide it anyway.

‘You can ride,’ he says, manspreading a bit, now who’s the tease.

‘You got bigger,’ you say.

‘I’ll make it fit,’ he assures you.

You can’t see his face clearly in the dark, but you can hear him snicker, low.

Then he starts the car, gets going.

***

He parks up outside your block, turns to you.

Looks hard at how you’ve unbuttoned the top two buttons of your satiny waistcoat.

‘Eyes up here,’ you murmur.

He smirks a little, this big dumb guy, and his gaze drops even more, centering on the flash of pale pink panties between your legs.

‘I got a roommate,’ you tell him.

He takes that in his stride.

‘I got a backseat,’ he offers.

You roll your eyes. ‘Kiss me.’

He likes kissing, he’s big and clumsy but so fucking endearing. He kisses you like he’s sneaking kisses at prom, hungry and like he wants to put a corsage on you or some shit.

You part your lips, let him slip you his tongue because you know he likes it sloppy and wet.

When you pull away he’s breathing hard.

You both look down at your hand touching him over his pants.

‘I missed you,’ he says, a declaration, heartfelt, sweet.

Your own heart skips.

‘That you or your dick talking, pretty boy?’ you ask.

You don’t give him a chance to answer, unzip your skirt so you can climb into his lap.

He’s getting his pants down, he’s not that dumb, not when it comes to this.

He’s as big as you remember, maybe even bigger, the way he’s holding himself up.

You start to lower yourself down on his fat cock, hissing a little at the sting, when movement outside his window distracts you.

Shit it’s not that the outside is moving, it’s that the goddamn car is moving.

‘The brakes, fuck,’ you moan, mad with frustration and that he’s still only halfway in.

He yanks up the handbrake, bucks his hips up into you so hard your head hits the roof of the car.

You don’t feel it, don’t feel anything but his cock splitting you open all the way.

Shit, he feels good.

He reaches into your top, scoops your breast out and sucks at your tit.

You know he’s trying to distract you from being mad at him for not parking the car properly.

You know it’s working.

He’s panting now, flushed and pretty, skin gleaming as he helps you ride him.

‘Can’t hold it,’ he warns, words muffled by your tits right in his face.

‘Let me have it, baby,’ you soothe, because you know he’s going to make you come, he’s always been good at it.

He grunts, fucks harder, makes you squeal on his cock and squirt all over him.

Fuck.

Fuck!

You can feel him tense and hard inside, feel the groan in his chest as he spills, face buried between your tits.

You put your hand on his head, stroke his almost buzz cut, silky and soft, until he stops groaning your name.

***

You realise in his haste to get to your tits he’d pulled off three buttons on your three button waistcoat, the big goon.

He shucks his shirt to give you willingly enough, and for some dumb reason hands you his sunglasses too even though it’s 4am and dark as fuck.

You slip them on anyway.

‘I’m working tonight, want me to pick you up?’ he offers.

With the sunglasses on you can look at him as much as you like without him getting the wrong fucking idea.

That you care about him or some shit.

‘Sure,’ you say, nonchalant.

He smiles so brightly it’s like he’s just won the lottery and your heart feels like it’s free falling.

You turn away deliberately, open the door to let yourself out.

‘Hey,’ you say.

His dimples should be illegal, a big goon like him’s got no business being so goddamn cute.

What’s he so goddamn cute for?

‘I missed you too,’ you tell him. You try to sound sour but it comes out sweet, kind of like his smile.

#bts smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon imagine #bts rm #freak on a bike

[incesthemes]

dean's sexuality is an overwhelming recurring theme throughout the show: his fetishes are prominent, he flaunts his sexuality and sexual behavior freely, he's a relentless flirt, and he has the most sexual encounters in the show. what i want to briefly consider here is how his sexuality and, more importantly, his fetishes may symbolize a freudian eroticization of a fantasized domestic life, particularly in his fetishization of femininity.

so hear me out: dean subconsciously eroticizes his mundane desires because he can't externalize them in a safe or realistic way. the desires are, namely, a longing for a domestic, "apple pie" life, which is a desire that has been explored in the show multiple times. dean routinely covets domesticity, through his desire to raise a child (ben and lisa subplot), the djinn fantasy (2.20), his "nesting" in the bunker (8.14), and his displacement of that desire onto sam (who is the primary subject of his erotic fixation in general and a subconscious extension of himself—if sam acquires a happy domestic life, dean can live vicariously through it).

he also routinely denies himself this domesticity because he's given up on getting out of the hunter life. he was raised in a survival environment and never was given a real opportunity to escape (even sam had to fight tooth and nail to get out, and we all know where that got him). the one time he had a chance to reject john and embrace normality he returned smiling because of sam (9.07). he's the one that vehemently secludes himself (and sam, like in 1.06) from society because connections are a liability. he leaves potential long-term relationships preemptively, always choosing hunting (and sam) over them before anything "real" can happen (1.13, 6.01, 6.21, also consider 8.19, perhaps more abstractly). he's so broken inside that he lacks any real desire at all (5.14). et cetera, et cetera. he denies himself his domestic desires to the point that he lacks desire at all—he's a broken shell of a man.

so the violent repression of the id causes the secret desire to leak out through erotic fantasy, a playground of fiction that is used by, well, most if not all people to explore desire in a safe and controlled medium (see: how many women have rape fantasies, for example—the sexual fantasy is a constructed world for safe exploration of certain desires, often abstracted through erotic symbols).

dean is so repressed as an individual, likely by external pressure to conform and control himself via john, that dean could subconsciously transform his secret desire for domesticity, into an erotic fantasy. he displaces those unacceptable desires from the unattainable mundane onto the safer erotic and they eventually distort into fetishes. the fetishes themselves are then abstractions of the things he covets but can't obtain.

and i want to focus specifically on his desire for domesticity and make an argument for feminization as a fetish (thank you rhonda hurley for your contributions to society) and how that relates back to that base desire.

there are several episodes in the show which suggest that dean fetishizes femininity itself, or rather feminization as it pertains to him (4.07, 5.04, also consider 10.05 in a more abstract sense). in 4.07, dean openly fantasizes about living in a "hot cheerleader's" body (youthfully feminine). in 5.04, dean recounts the time rhonda hurley forced him into her pink, satiny panties, saying that he liked it. 10.05 is a meta episode which additionally posits a plotline where dean becomes a woman through supernatural means, suggesting that fans are invited to draw a connection between dean and feminization. (these are the episodes i can pull off the top of my head; it's probably not comprehensive but i can't remember others atm)

so let's consider this feminization kink: we have dean fantasizing about femininity, womanhood, and especially girlhood, which he notoriously eroticizes (again in 4.07 and also in 4.13 and 10.13, to name specific references, but there are so many examples of this) in relation to himself, specifically. you can layer this in the way his deeper desires are of domesticity, and the home is traditionally (importantly) the domain of the woman. if dean would come to associate domesticity with femininity, then he would subconsciously connect his desire for domesticity with a desire for femininity. therefore, this feminization kink can represent an eroticization of his own (perceived) femininity. dean craves domesticity, but the domestic can only be achieved through womanhood, and therefore his desire for the domestic manifests through femininity, and thus feminization.

this "perceived femininity" of the domestic is important because of how dean conceptualizes the world largely through his consumption of media (see also: his "wild west fetish" via 6.18), which enforces gender roles and the relegating of the woman to the domestic sphere. this additionally aligns with dean's lived experiences: he had a domestic life while mary was alive, and when mary died the domesticity died with her. his only personal experiences with a settled home life are inexorably tied to the presence of femininity (his other excursion is when he lives with lisa, strengthening this association), and the absence of it and subsequent domination of john (the masculine) also took with it that domestic life.

and then you could even go so far as to make the argument that his eroticization of girlhood and his fetish for barely legal girls is a symbol of the domestic life he didn't get to live himself. it can represent a longing for youth in an environment that was inaccessible to him, a stability and domesticity walled off by womanhood. his youth was masculine, and his desire is for the feminine. it would stand to reason that when he yearns for an idealized youth, it would be through the lens of the symbolically feminine. and so this desire manifests through a fetishization of youth (girlhood) and his subsequent creep behavior. it all comes back to the life dean didn't get to live, eroticized and represented through a sexual fantasy born of rigidly enforced gender roles and the loss of femininity in his home life.

#supernatural #dean winchester #this is so long. i know no one is going to read it #but that's okay i'll survive #i've been thinking about this since before i saw a poll going around about 4.07 #and whether his 'hot cheerleader' thing was him being a creep or him being trans #and then i got to thinking about it again because i saw the poll. creep is much closer to my answer but this is my full response to it #i just think he is a mess of psychosexual fixations on everything he wants but can't have #and it manifests in the weirdest and creepiest behavior imaginable #so thanks for coming to my ted talk i guess #.txt #dean #the winchester gospel #spn posting

[dawn-moths]

“Pink silk, angel soft”

Nanami Kento x Female Reader

part 1 ♡ part 2

word count: 4500+

(set in my sugar daddy nanami au.)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! smut, daddy kink, sub/dom dynamics, size kink, posessiveness, alternate universe (no sorcery), reader is collared, reader is called “princess, baby, baby girl, good girl, bad girl, brat, sweetheart, and angel”, multiple orgasms, oral (reader receiving), bathing together and aftercare.

*ao3 mirror*

♡♡♡

The dainty, delicate jingle of a pretty gold bell paired with your beautiful, breathy moans filled the master bedroom. Nanami loved seeing you like this, his perfect little angel laying underneath him in expensive lingerie of soft, satiny pink and delicate froths of white lace decorating the body he so cherished, worshipped, owned.

He was still working his way down your neck with tender kisses and teasing little nips, drinking in the way your body shuddered as he pressed his jutting arousal harder against your needy, insatiable sex, the only thing between you two being the designer fabrics of his trousers— the champagne colored ones he wore for his really important business meetings— and the thin lace of your panties, growing wetter and more ruined with each passing minute.

“Daddy, please…” you begged in a whispery whine, your eager little hands pawing for the buckle of his belt. “Can’t take it much more… I need you…”

Nanami would often scold you for being impatient, punish you if you became too bratty, but tonight, after the hell week he’d had shuffling endlessly from one meeting to the next, spending more time away from his precious baby than either of you had wanted, he craved your greed for him.

Besides, he’d been the indulgent one this time, practically pulling you into his lap to straddle him then pinning you to the couch cushions the moment he’d walked through the door and gotten his hands on you as you’d just woken from your late afternoon nap, his tie tugged loose and carelessly abandoned somewhere on the floor in the living room amidst his fervor, his suit jacket shrugged off and left draped over the arm of the furniture.

“I know, princess…” he sighed dreamily with that rich baritone of his, pulling back only far enough to gaze into your eyes, gently brushing a stray strand of your hair back from your face before kissing you lightly on the nose and saying, “But I promise if you’re patient like a good girl then Daddy’ll make the wait worth it for you.”

The butterflies that Nanami had raised and released in your tummy fluttered back to vibrant life with all the possibilities of what your Daddy could have in store for you tonight.

He never failed to surprise you, whether it was with a brand new Chanel bag in a color that matched your most recently purchased outfit or the latest pair of Miu Miu heels, an impromptu weekend getaway to northern Italy or the south of France, the lavish shopping sprees and decadent dinners and gorgeous hotel suites, Nanami had many different monetary ways to shower you in his love.

But, as nice as all the designer handbags and dresses and jewelry and extravagant trips were, there was only one thing you’d trade it all away for. And that was the feeling of your two bodies becoming one, moving in tandem with each other and creating a priceless artwork of skin and sweat, a hypnotizing symphony that could never be conducted the same twice.

Though, lucky for you, you’d never have to choose between luxury items and amazing sex, as Nanami was able to provide both in constant abundance.

At least, so long as you did your part and remained his perfect little angel. It was an easy role to play, so long as you didn’t begin to feel neglected when he became caught up with work. After the busy week he’d just had though, you’d been teetering on the edge of morphing into a disobedient little devil, willing to do just about anything to receive some of his attention, even if it meant breaking his rules and facing the whip or his belt for exhibiting such bad behavior.

Rest assured, from past experience, once you’d taken your punishment like the good girl he knew you still were deep down, Nanami would grant you the pleasure you so deserved.

So he went about exploring the familiar planes of your body, your skin silky smooth to the touch, your scent like vanilla and honey and the distinct flavor that was indisputably you.

He ran his hands over the supple hills of your breasts, down the dip of your waist and the curves of your hips, kneading the plush flesh of your thighs as he kissed you like it was the only thing he remembered how to do, savoring the way your tongue felt against his, trading each other’s breath like it was the only source of oxygen filling each other’s lungs, keeping his lips to yours until you were left breathless and panting in short, hot huffs once he finally broke away, both your lips shining with each other’s spit.

And once you regained a little bit of your senses, you looked up at him and you smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile too, because your eyes were glittering with all the adoration and devotion you held for him, knowing how much adoration and devotion he also held for you.

“Guess what?” you asked, your voice dripping with endless affection.

Nanami’s grin remained, and he prompted your question with an equally infatuated, “What, sweetheart?”

A hum of amusement found a home in your throat, and for a moment you kept him in suspense. Then you said, all velvet and rose petals, “I love you!”

Nanami never had to wonder if you really meant it.

He could’ve identified you out of a hundred other girls by a single touch alone. He could go blind and still recognize you by the way you cupped his face in your little palms and traced his sharp features as he rested his head in your lap after a long day, the sound of your lilting giggle as it echoed down the halls accompanied by the muted pitter-patters of socked feet, the way you whispered his name in the morning in that adorable, loving way of yours.

And that was because he loved you too.

He loved you more than life itself— even if that life was composed of the finest things money could buy, none of it mattered unless he could share it with you.

“I love you more, angel,” he replied, bumping his nose lightly against yours, and if you could’ve purred like the adorable little kitten you were right then, you would’ve. “More than you’ll ever even know.”

And then he was pulling you up to straddle his lap, a cute little gasp escaping your lips at the sudden unexpected movement, and Nanami sighed out a quiet chuckle as he ran his palms over your bare shoulders, down your arms, back up again.

“I take it this one’s still your favorite,” Nanami crooked one long finger under the shiny gold bell on your bubblegum pink collar, flicking it to hear that playful jingle ring out softly, “isn’t it, princess?”

You nodded, looking up at him through the fan of your lashes, the perfect picture of his demure little doll. Though he knew, aside from the looks of you— all your lace trimmed thigh-highs and ruffly knee socks, your flirty, flouncy pink and white skirts and dresses of pale blues and lavenders, the cashmere cardigans with buttons that sparkled like diamonds or were made to look like bows, some delicate jewelry laying across your collar bones or your wrists or dangling from your ears, usually paired with heeled mary janes or platform oxfords or whatever else you picked out that day because you’d deemed it the cutest— you still nurtured a little demon inside of you.

It was a devil he’d had to learn to control, to collar, to conquer, only letting her out when he decided it was time to open the cage. But once he did, so long as it was in the bedroom, at least, that mischievous little monster morphed into the desirably divine.

And it was only for him, Nanami felt a dangerous sense of pride in knowing. Only for him.

“Well it looks good on you,” Nanami complimented as he slightly adjusted the way the accessory wrapped itself around your pretty neck. Then he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his heart swelling when you nestled your cheek into his palm, those misleadingly innocent doe-eyes of yours blinking up at him and silently pleading for him to touch you more, more, more.

“Alright, baby, I know, I know,” Nanami agreed in a low, mirthy chuckle. His hands were resting on the outside of your thighs now, inching higher to toy with the thin waistband of your panties, fingers absentmindedly fidgeting with the sheer ruffles sitting daintily on your hips, hooking them underneath just to tease you, to get you to squirm. “Daddy’s gonna be good on his promise, just be patient.”

Now he moved onto unhooking your bra, savoring the way such soft, pretty skin was revealed beneath the pink silk and white lace, the way your sensitive nipples perked in the cool air of the room, a wave of goosebumps raising over your flesh before fading away like a gentle wave pulling away from the shore to return back to the sea.

Nanami layed you back against the bedsheets, taking a moment to unbutton his shirt, though was interrupted by a different kind of jingling sound as your little fingers tugged lightly at the shiny silver buckle of his leather belt, a soft whine crawling its way up your throat as you looked up at him and pouted.

Normally, your Daddy would use your repetitious impatience as an excuse to punish you, in this case, most likely by edging you until you became a trembling, crying, drooling mess just begging for release, but again, Nanami guessed today he was feeling rather lenient.

Besides, he wanted this just as much as you did. He was just better at hiding it.

“Want something, sweetheart?” he asked mockingly, words dripping with condescending mirth as he quirked an eyebrow up at you, faking confusion. After you nodded, your hands finding a tighter grip around his belt and giving a quick tug to signal you wanted it off, gone, right now, Nanami cooed at you and said, “You know you have to use your words, baby. You know Daddy can’t give you what you want unless you tell him.”

Instead of abiding by his request to speak your wants, you gave a grumbled whine and tried again to unbuckle his belt, which caused Nanami to grab up both your wrists in one of his strong palms, movement swift and smooth, pinning them above your head and actually seeming to startle you for a second.

Your heartbeat stuttered before leaping back to fast-paced life between your ribs as Nanami glared down at you, his face only inches from yours, the dim light of the room casting eerie shadows across his chiseled features.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, princess…” Nanami warned, a little more steel to his voice now, though you could sense that it wasn’t entirely serious. Something about that sinful sparkle in his dark eyes gave him away. “Or do you want to be punished?”

Either way, you figured you wouldn’t risk it, so that time you opened your mouth to respond, a weak, shy mutter of, “W-want your cock, Daddy…” barely breathed out under your breath.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you,” Nanami pressed, acting chillingly indifferent with that air of oncoming cruelty that sent both spiky barbs of fear shooting through your veins as well as a flutter of excitement blooming in your belly. Then, capturing your jaw in his grip, though not in the bruising way he tended to do if he was really about to punish you, he said, “You know, if you insist on being a brat, you’re gonna be treated like one…”

“I-I want your cock, Daddy!” you whined, much louder that time, though you knew he’d heard you the first time.

At this, Nanami’s expression softened back into that gentle pride, letting go of your face only to grab his belt, undoing it and pulling it through the loops to be tossed to the floor in a short bout of clacking and clinking like it would’ve been that easy for you to do it yourself.

“Good girl…” he cooed, releasing your wrists momentarily to undo the button on his slacks. “See how you get what you want if you just do as Daddy says?”

The moment he’d kicked off what remained of his clothes and his cock was free, he crawled back on top of you, beginning to grind against your soaked core, likely on his way to ruining yet another pair of your favorite panties.

That’s alright. He’d just buy you more, after all.

A hiss was sucked in through clenched teeth as your eager little hands found his hard cock, wrapping around and giving a squeeze that was just enough to tease him. He’d always known that two could play at that game— the game he’d sometimes convinced himself he was the reigning champion of against you— only to be reminded that, yes, you may have looked like an angel, but he was the only one who knew how to bring the devil out in you.

After recovering from his unexpected wince and locking eyes with you again, he saw that mischievous little grin painted across your adorably defiant face, a lilting giggle upturned into an amused squeak speaking to the fact that you were fully aware of the power you’d momentarily held over him and liked catching him off guard. But when his dark eyes flashed with that calculated, dangerous glint, you knew you wouldn’t be smiling for much longer.

“You’re in the mood to play, huh?” Nanami taunted, grinding against you harder that time, quickly becoming ruthless. It was a nasty habit of his— becoming too rough too fast, often just to prove a point— but it was a habit you’d learned to enjoy, over time.

Because sure, he might fuck you fast and hard enough to make tears well in your eyes, to make weak little pleads of “Hurts, Daddy—!” and “S’too much—!” get caught in your throat in an attempt to get him to let up a little, your nails biting into the toned muscles of his broad shoulders and back as he pinned and pounded you into the mattress, but you both knew part of you had learned to like the pain. Sometimes you craved it, the mischievous little masochist in you breaking one of his rules just so he’d bend you over his knee and spank your ass or have you tied up while he teased you to tears.

Coyly biting your lip, you glanced up at him through your lashes and replied with a lazy half shrug, “I dunno, maybe…” And that…

That had Nanami grinning for an entirely different reason.

“Well, it’s up to you, baby…” Nanami began. “We can either play nice—” He reached down to gently rub enticing circles on your needy little clit through the soaked laced clinging to your pulsing pussy, pulling one of those melodic moans from your throat, your head thrown back against the fluffy pillows as pure, unadulterated pleasure coursed sweet and hot through your veins. But then, just before you felt yourself teetering on the edge of release, he was pulling back, causing you to whine and cast him a confused and irritated little pout. “Or we can play dirty.”

“I’ll play nice!” you were practically pleading, chasing his hand with an impatient buck of your hips. “Swear it, Daddy! I’ll play nice, so please—!”

Your sentence was cut off with a clipped gasp that turned into a low, sated moan, Nanami slipping his fingers in through the side of your soaked panties to touch you for real, the pressure on your swollen, throbbing little bud a skillful alternation of soft and firm, unraveling you more and more with each motion.

He had you arching your back and crying out before the minute was up, stomach clenching as he helped you ride out the aftershocks of your first orgasm of the night, your eyes rolling back and fluttering shut as they sparkled with sugary, seraphim lust.

He gave you some time to recover before the next round, but not much.

You weren’t even entirely sure when Nanami had removed the last piece of lace left clinging to your person, but as the cold air of the room registered on your weeping cunt, that fiery spark of anticipation reignited in the pit of your stomach.

The moment you felt his hot breath fanning over your pussy, you gripped the sheets in your trembling little fists. You knew this next part was going to last long, whether you wanted it to or not. Nanami was a master of savoring every last, painfully sweet taste of you, enjoying every slow lapping of his tongue along your slit like you were the world’s rarest, most radiant delicacy, syrupy nectar dripping from a fruit so ripe it was ready to burst.

He had to wrestle you still when your squirming turned to thrashing, your body unsure whether it wanted to get away from him or get closer, the agonizing push and pull of the electric pleasure zapping through your insides enough to fry your brain until the only thought you were capable of was how good Nanami made you feel.

Each moan that left your pretty mouth was pitched higher and higher until your second orgasm was crashing over you like a wave against a cliffside during a storm, limbs tensing and trembling violently as you tried to twist away, fisting the bed sheets until the skin over your knuckles was pulled taught and aching over your bones, Nanami forcing you past your limit until he’d drank up every last heavenly drop of you.

And as you lay there, shuddering and spent and slowly slipping back into serenity, he couldn’t help but admire the way your soft skin glistened with a thin sheen of sparkling sweat and your hair lay perfectly tousled and splayed beneath your lolled head, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths that hitched every once in a while in gentle little gasps when his fingertips ghosted over your bare thighs, hitching your legs up and pulling you closer to him.

You weren’t sure if you had a third round in you, but it wasn’t up to you, so in the end that didn’t matter.

Nanami had played nice like he’d promised, though had still found a way to be strategically cruel in tiny doses, so now it was only fair you let him take his turn.

Lining himself up with your neglected entrance, Nanami made sure to ask before beginning to nudge his way in, “Are you ready, baby?” and after you gave a weak, fucked-out nod, Nanami proceeded to push his way into you, stretching your sensitive little hole inch by stinging inch, only slowing his already lenient pace when you whined or hissed or made those adorably broken, pitiful little sounds of pain that he’d practically burned into his memory by now, replaying them in his mind like a song stuck in his head whenever he was away for long periods for work and was missing you, just dreaming about the next time he could sink into that tight cunt of yours.

“D-Daddy—!” you gasped, a thin film of tears glossing over your shimmering eyes as the stretch on your unprepared entrance bordered on too much. You were gripping his arms in your trembling grasp, begging him with your eyes to mask the pain with some of his gentle coos or tender kisses.

“Almost there, princess,” Nanami promised, his voice a little strained from just how tightly your insides were constricting around his cock, knowing he was going to have to make it up to you for not helping properly prep you beforehand.

You’d been eyeing a brand new dress in the window of your favorite designer store a couple days ago but hadn’t had time to stop in as Nanami had been running late for a meeting that Gojo had only bothered to inform him of a few hours beforehand while he’d been out shopping with you. He figured he’d go back tomorrow on his way home from work to surprise you with. That might make the fact that you’d probably have a little trouble walking comfortably for the next few days by the time he was done with you tonight a little easier to bear.

“You’re doing so well for me…” Nanami sighed. “Always such a good girl—” Finally entering you down to the hilt, there was a moment of brief respite for the both of you, Nanami catching his breath while he gave you time to adjust to being so painfully full of him.

As a few of your tears fell, Nanami wiped them away and gently pressed his lips to your temple, leaving a trail of loving pecks from there to your neck as he whispered words of praise in between kisses.

“Love you so much,” he told you, brushing a few strands of sweat-damp hair from your forehead, preparing to start moving as he felt you relax a little around where he had split you in two. “So much sweetheart… You know that, don’t you?”

And there was another one of those saccharine smiles he lived to see, your flushed face beaming up at him as if he were the sun in your sky, reaching up to cup his face in your little palms as you said, voice reverent and doting, “Of course, Daddy. And you know how much I love you, too, right?”

Nanami couldn’t help but smile now too, playfully nudging your nose with his as he muttered, low and loving, “More than anything in the world?”

“More than anything in the universe,” you corrected, nuzzling your cheek against his, feeling the barely detectable roughness of where he’d shaved that morning, lightly twining your arms around his neck, the two of you just resting in this essence of tranquility that had blanketed itself over the room. Then, in a lull, as if drifting off to sleep, you muttered, “More than anything…”

Nanami almost felt bad that he couldn’t let you fall asleep right then— you looked so serene— but there was one act left in this tale of angels and demons and he was determined to have you both make it through to the finale.

Slowly, rhythmically, he began to move, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in with more force than you’d been ready for the first time.

But as the pace began to pick up until he was maintaining the perfect speed for you both, Nanami also toying with your overstimulated clit as he felt himself approaching his own release, you could feel that haze of sharp-edged ecstasy clouding your brain for the third time that night, barbs of twisted pleasure splicing with the sounds of his grunts and whines as your core fluttered and squeezed around him everytime he was buried deep inside of you, grazing against your sweet spot every time.

“C-can feel you in my tummy, Daddy—!” you gasped, your next moan clipping with that perfect, pain-laced pleasure. “F-feels so good! Don’t stop—!”

And that…

That was enough to send Nanami over the edge.

You’d barely whimpered half of his name out before you both were coming undone, him filling you to the brim with his hot, sticky seed and you gushing all over his cock, both of you painting each other in glistening arousal and pent up desire.

You were both sticky and slick with each other’s sweat and cum, your mouths seeking each other out one last time for a long, lazy kiss before Nanami carefully pulled out of you, watching with reverence as your abused little hole leaked more of your combined pleasure, unable to help himself from collecting it on the pad of his thumb and smearing it in absentminded patterns through your shining, gooey slit, painting it into your puffy folds and pushing some of it back into you once his touch migrated back to the source.

Would it be too selfish of him to force one more round out of you, to wring you dry, if that were even possible (in his experience with you thus far, it wasn’t)?

But then your adorable, tired little voice was registering to him once again, a feeble inquiry of, “Daddy…?” barely mumbled out of your glossy, swollen lips, causing his gaze to snap back to yours. “Can we take a bath together?” you asked, and before answering, Nanami took a few more seconds to admire you in your beautifully debauched state.

“Of course we can, baby,” he smiled, standing from the edge of the bed after unfastening the collar from you throat and draping a sheet over your bare form. “Just let me clean you up and then I’ll run us some water.”

Just before he could turn to head for his navy robe hanging off the back of the door, you asked, all silky sweetness and tender hope, “Can we use the bath bomb… one of the sparkly pink ones…?”

Nanami hummed out a note of gentle amusement, knowing how much you loved those things, loved the way the glitter lingered on your skin afterward and the sickly sweet scent of bubblegum or strawberries and cream wove its way into your hair, which he’d make sure and wash for you whenever you two shared a bath or a shower together, massaging your scalp with all your favorite products and brushing out the tangles for you as he did so. “Of course we can, princess,” he affirmed, now slipping into his fluffy robe and beginning to tread towards the master bathroom. “Anything you want.”

And when he returned from filling the porcelain, clawfoot tub full with your preferred temperature, he half expected to find you fast asleep, but your resting eyes blinked open and gave him another one of those genuinely devoted smiles.

After using a warm washcloth to wipe away as much of the mess that you two had made from between your legs, Nanami helped you to your feet and guided you into the expansive, spotless bathroom, all of its mirrors and pristine tile shining under the dimmed vanity lighting. You kept your hand in his as you lowered yourself into the tub, sinking into the bath with a little bit of a wince as the hot water touched your raw center, then a sigh as the warmth wrapped itself the rest of the way around you.

Nanami brought you over one of your bath bombs, placing it in your waiting, cupped palms so you could be the one to drop it in and watch it fizz, turing the bath a vibrant, glittering cerise, before carefully stepping in and settling himself in the tub behind you, letting you lay with your back against his chest, his knees slightly poking above the surface on either side of you as you both submerged yourselves further into the lulling calm of each other’s embrace.

And for all the stress and the long business trips and last minute meetings, being able to spend this time with you made it all worth it.

Because Nanami knew his job was, above all else, to provide and care for his very special, most favorite girl, no matter the cost or the sacrifices.

And you probably wouldn’t believe him if he told you how truly lucky he felt to have you in his life, to be able to come home to you every day and fall asleep beside you every night.

But, then again, you actually might. Because you felt the same exact way.

♡♡♡

I wanted to write another lil something for my sd!nanami since, well, I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately haha.

In the future I think I’d like to do something with a little more plot for him, but honestly, I feel like this version of him lends itself to pure smut just fine ;)

Anyway, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

See you next time~

#nanami kento #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

[cherryjuiceblues]

is it too early to ask for a sneakyyyyyy?

NOT AT ALL!!!!! i was literally just about to ask if anyone wanted one :D great minds 🫶 here u go !!

“Sweet girl,” he traces her upper lip with the pad of his thumb, sliding past to brush the round of her cheek. His voice lacks his usual soft inflection and his face stays hard. “Came to bring me my lunch like a good friend.” She frowns, pulling her head back with sad eyes. Harry’s presence looms over her as she perches on his desk. What is usually a comforting and safe crowding of space now feels discomforting to Y/N. She doesn’t want him so near if he’s upset with her. If he’s upset with her she wants to run away—move countries in fact.

He closes his eyes, brows relaxing, and then he leans forward to rest his forehead against hers in a short window of reprieve. “It’s okay. Let me be spiteful. Let me, love.” It’s confusing—of course it is. What he’s asking of her is completely unreasonable! But she’s… she’s perfect, she’s a wonder; an angel reincarnated. Because she nods slowly, unsure and hesitant, and then he kisses her gently. An only slightly lingering enmeshment of lips. Then he steps back.

“Lock my door,” Y/N lags a little but she listens. Harry hadn’t even taken note of her dress; pretty in silky pink—a portrait from a wedding. But he likes that she kept it on to come here, no matter the formality in which she suggests. He can’t deny he admires too, the speed in which the fabric can be loosened from her shoulders. Two dainty straps to push aside and pool the silk at her middle. “Good girl, sit back down.”

“I’m very busy today, Y/N,” he spans his hands over her knees, “I don’t have the time to be dealing with you professing our friendship all over my workplace. Because now—” Harry steps impossibly closer and edges the hem of her dress a few centimetres up her thighs, “now, I need to alter your definition of the word.”

Y/N doesn’t quite know how much Harry is playing. If a part of him is upset but he’s channelling it into sexual energy, if he’s punishing her for coming to see him—clearly something about the way she’d described their relationship has riled him up—Y/N’s not that oblivious. But she’s not a mind reader… and Harry has never been stern with her like this.

It feels fitting to use his preferred honorific. “Sir…” she whispers, unsure of what exactly to say to him. “Have I done something wrong?” It’s a reasonable question.

Harry drags his blunt nails across the tops of her knees. “No,” flattening his palms to slip under the silk until his fingertips tease the satiny skin above the hem of her panties. Y/N grips the edge of the desk with clammy hands. She’s not convinced… but she’s also not inclined to ask anymore questions—she finds that she trusts him regardless—a new discovery considering they’ve never had a conversation so tense before. But it relaxes Y/N a little to realise she still feels safe.

But she isn’t so wrong to wonder if this is a punishment.

With his soft fingertips trailing underneath her dress, his thighs pressing into her knees and his face looking down at her, shadowed by the harsh line of his brows, Y/N feels small. She feels as though he could squeeze into her skin and shrink her down into the palm of his hand, push her back with his strong legs and pin her to his desk, and burn her with the stoniness of his glower.

Those things do happen, in minimised ways, but in order for Harry to reach her neck—as he heavily leans forward for—it’s sort of unavoidable that Y/N’s body makes room. That her head tilts back, and her thighs widen, and her lips part in a silent gasp when he kisses underneath her ear. It’s deceivingly sweet—the sound his mouth makes when it parts from her skin. A quiet smacking and gentle breaths hitting her neck. Y/N’s eyes flutter shut and she just feels as Harry kisses her. Parted lips paying attention to the spot that he knows makes her melt and hands—that manage to balance being soft and rough at the same time—scratching against the tops of her thighs.

Y/N moans quietly into the air, knuckles tightening against the desk when she feels Harry’s teeth tease the underneath of her jaw. Then he takes her skin between them and nibbles—rolling, teasing, harassing the sensitive flesh in a way that makes Y/N squirm. She can almost feel her blood rushing to the surface, hooting and hollering to make an appearance on her neck. Look at us! We’re desired! She hopes and prays her red blood cells choose to calm down. Because Harry certainly isn’t going to… and Y/N finds that she doesn’t want him to either.

His hands push upwards underneath her dress to the bottom of her stomach, and then back to her thighs, and then to her hips. Almost frustrated in the restriction of his movement. And then he lifts her just slightly, enough to pull her dress from underneath her bum and pool on top of her thighs. The cool wood makes Y/N jump a little, straight into Harry as he crowds even closer to her mollifying body. Now much more satisfied with the easier access to the state of her undress, he squeezes her waist with bruising fingertips and tugs her quickly wettening front to his own hardening one.

“Do you do this with your friends, Y/N?” He bites down particularly hard and she gasps.

“No,” her voice barely carries as she tries to shake her head.

“No?” Harry pulls back, lips wet and pupils large, feigning shock, “So, are we not friends?”

“We are!” She pleads, trembling fingers tangling in the front of his shirt.

But Harry disagrees. “No. I am not your friend.”

Y/N’s head scrambles, the high of his lips on her neck providing it difficult to maintain conversation. “I don’t—” She didn’t want to ask ‘what are we?’. It felt so juvenile.

Harry takes her earlobe into his mouth before trailing back down, across her jaw and all the way to her chin. Down the column of her throat and back up to the underneath of her ear. He kisses, and licks, and sucks. And marks. Then he loosens his tie and removes her hands from his shirt. “Hold your wrists together,” he demands, voice deep and commanding. Y/N’s heart beats like a warning—unable to identify that she’s as safe as she can be—and her mouth dries out completely when she realises what he’s about to do. His tie around her wrists, looping through and underneath her hands to incarcerate them entirely.

#anon #sneaky #sneak peek #mutually beneficial #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #domrry #dom!harry

[aforestescape]

something about using pervert konig’s face as your toy

content includes: fat konig, afab!reader, gn!reader, subby konig, strap gag

i might’ve skipped a few parts that are still in the drafts but… first part here

his fascination with your panties hadn’t wained since you finally let him inside of you. weeks of torture you put him through since catching him sniffing them, hand rubbing over his his hardened cock in his jeans.

you took your time, enjoying how desperate he was for you. how good he was for you. obeying your every command with the hope of finally being able to feel your warm, wet walls wrapped around him. between making him sit there, hands cuffed to his bedpost while your rode his hairy and fat tummy. your cunt dripping through the fabric of your panties as he let out pained whimpers.

sitting on his face, braced against the headboard while he ate you out. strong hands holding you down as he licked and spit on your weeping pussy. moans floating from you and him as you rocked your hips back and forth until you reached your peak. moving to sit over his clothed lap. holding his head in place as you messily kissed him. all tongue and teeth biting while his cock angrily leaked through the fabric of his pants. you’d spent that night edging him as he cried for more, giving him kisses and praise while denying him release.

words of “you’re doing so good for me, such a good boy koni”, “awe baby, do you think you deserve to cum? hm, i don’t think so”, “but you came so much without permission, i don’t think you deserve it yet baby.” leaving konig a sobbing mess under you, nodding his head in understanding while his body trembled with need.

and when you finally let him fuck you, he felt like he’d been given the key to heaven. thanking you through tears every time he spurted his thick, creamy cum inside of you.

when you asked him to lay down for you on the bed he eagerly followed. his massive form dwarfing the bed as he lay on his back, body spread out. you moved over his form to straddle his stomach. giving him kisses down his jaw and neck. his hands flexing at his sides as he let out moans. you laughed at his reaction, biting on his neck.

“you’re always so sensitive baby. does that feel good already?”

he agrees with you, eagerly bringing his hands up to your body when you give permission. his large hands greedy as they squeeze and grope your hips. his fingers digging in as he takes his fill. moving one of his hands up to cup your breasts. he loved them, loved how they looked in his pale hands. loved the weight of them and difference in size compared to his hands.

you let him continue to touch you as you leaned down to continue kissing him. soft lips leaving wet kisses and quickly turning red bruises along his chest. arching your back and grinding your clothed pussy against his stomach. the wet patch in the fabric quickly growing as you get off to his body.

moving your lips further down to his sensitive nipples. you placed a soft peck on one, humming against the bud as he sucked in a breath. you kissed and licked the pink flesh, swirling your tongue around it. taking a bite of it and pulling between your teeth. you ignore the way he bucks under you. his hands moving back to your hips and squeezing tightly as he pants under you.

you lick over the bud again, soothing it before pulling away. sitting up enough to brace on one forearm as you bring your other hand to tease him. groping his tits and then bringing your hand down in a harsh smack. konigs body jerking as you slap him, laughing as he lets out a loud whimper. repeating the process of kissing and slapping until the area around his nipple is just as pink and angry as it. moving on to do the other when you’re satisfied.

when you’re done you stand up, telling him to stay put. grabbing a blindfold and gag before moving back over to him. leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth before tying the black satiny fabric behind his head. he waits so patiently, his cock throbbing and pressed tight in his pants. you give him another kiss on the other side of his mouth, enjoying the smile that grows on his lips.

reaching up to caress his face, whispering praises to him for being so patient. for being so willing to please you.

you keep praising him when you’re moving to hover over his face. facing his legs as you straddle the sides of his body. moving your hips up and down to rub yourself against the slicked up dildo. guiding it towards your entrance before sinking down. a breathy whine passing your lips as you stretch yourself out.

you have to adjust a bit, bracing your hands on his stomach as you slowly move your hips. rocking back and forth while he lays pliant for you. as you fuck yourself down onto the toy you trail your hand down his abdomen to his cock. palming over the aching length in time with each drag of the length inside of you.

the sounds of your slick hole and konig moaning around the smaller side of the toy in his mouth echoing in the room. konigs happy to be useful to you like this, beyond ecstatic that you’ve even given him a chance to please you. as you grow closer to your release, he holds onto your hips. helping to keep you on the toy as your bounces become more choppy. moving you up and down as it grows slicker and slicker with each thrust inside of you.

when you cum you moan out his name, hand on his covered cock gripping him tight. the sound goes right through him and has him creaming his pants. dick twitching under your hand and the wetness seeping through to your palm. when you’ve come down enough from the high you smack his dick, making his spent cock twitch in its confides.

“i didn’t give you permission to cum. i’m going to have to punish you.”

think ima go back to edit the last part to make them roommates instead🙈 this was gonna be about konig giving head while reader is in underwear but it grew legs and i saw a twitter video that fueled me

#pervert!konig #konig x reader #konig x you #aforestescape

[miasmaghoul]

Rain spitting in Dew’s mouth, there really no subtle way to put it is there

No need for subtlety if you ask me!

Also I made this dom!Rain forcedfem because I am in a Mood(tm) and no one said I couldn't.

It's long! Enjoy!

Dewdrop swallows hard as he stares at himself in the mirror.

Sometimes he doesn't know why he lets Rain do this to him. Lets the water ghoul dress him in satin and lace, lets him paint his face and clip his hair back. It's the most degrading thing in the world, being made to feel like-

"How's my sweet girl doing?" Rain's lilting voice drifts through the door. Dew's dick throbs in his panties, a frission of combined excitement and shame skittering down his spine. Oh, right. That's why.

"Almost done," he huffs, palming himself through the soft fabric. His face is bright red in the mirror, and it matches Rain's choice of outfit for the night. A lacy red bralette and matching garter belt, red fishnets and an embarrassingly small pair of white satin panties. He's barely half hard, but Dew can see every bit of the way his cock is filling out. There's already a damp spot forming at the front, the satin practically see through.

He's gotten better at doing his makeup. The wings of eyeliner almost match, and there's only a couple little smudges of mascara on his eyelids. The lipstick Rain had chosen for tonight is baby pink and glossy, shining in the too-bright light of the hotel bathroom. Dew can't stop making ridiculous faces at himself to see it glint. His hair is tied back in a loose tail, as he was instructed. Nothing fancy tonight. Rain must have plans to fuck it up. Dew shivers at the thought.

There's one more piece to the outfit though, and for some reason it was the one Dew was stuck on.

"Don't make me wait, baby," Rain coos, and Dew whimpers under his breath.

It's just a necklace. That's all. He's worn them before when they play like this. It's no big deal. Just jewelry. Nothing more, Dew tells himself. But his hands still shake as he stares at it.

A length of red ribbon, smooth and satiny. No closure, intended to be tied around his neck. That part was fine. He was mostly struggling with the gold hoop at the center of it. The one that had the word 'SLUT' dangling from it in sparkling charms. "Bought it special, just for you," Rain had whispered in his ear, "I think it's perfect for you."

Dew turns from the mirror, takes a deep breath and ties the collar around his neck just tight enough that it takes effort to swallow. Rain will like that. He steps out of the bathroom, fingering the letters that sit at the hollow of his throat.

Dew has to give his eyes a moment to adjust - the room is dark, lit only by the ambient light filtering in through the open curtains. They're on a higher floor and Dewdrop can see stars speckling the night sky. Rain clicks on a lamp and Dew looks over at him.

"Look at you," Rain purrs. He sits across the room in a plush armchair, legs crossed, head tilted. Smirking as he sips from one of the wine glasses on the table. His icy blue eyes flash in the warm lamplight and Dew feels himself shiver. "My beautiful girl."

Dew groans and nods. Rain uncrosses his legs and pats his knee, canting his head. Dewdrop pads over and perches himself in Rain's lap, hoping the low light hides how flushed he is. No matter how many times they do this, the initiation is the hardest part. But soon Rain will have him floating and absent, and Dew knows his suffering will be well worth it.

"You like your present, princess?" Rain murmurs, setting his drink down. His fingers ghost over Dew's sharp collar bone, fiddling with the letters and making them clink together. Dew swallows and gives a stilted nod, breaths already starting to come quicker. Rain chuckles, leaning in to nose at the soft skin behind Dew's ear. "Use your words," he says, flicking his tongue over the lobe.

"Y-yes," Dew rasps. It's not entirely true, but he hopes Rain doesn't hear his hesitance. The ribbon is tight around his throat. That part, at least, he does like.

"Tell the truth, sweetheart," Rain says, nipping the shell of his ear with a fang. His fingers slip beneath the ribbon, tugging it even tighter. "Good girls don't tell lies."

Dew makes a strangled sound as his cock kicks against the satin. He nods fervently, licking at his lips. He wants to say yes, wants to tell Rain he means it, but the words stick in his throat. Rain tuts at him, and Dewdrop is immediately disappointed in himself.

"Kneel," Rain instructs, tugging at Dew's ponytail. He slides from the taller ghoul's lap with a whimper, looking up at him with sad eyes. He doesn't want Rain to be upset with him. He wants to be his good girl. Always. Rain runs his thumb along Dew's jaw. "You look so pretty down there. Open up for me, gorgeous."

Dew does without argument, tilting his head back when Rain tucks two fingers under his chin. He expects them to slip between his lips, for Rain to make him suck them, and Dew sighs at the loss of Rain's touch when he pulls back instead. He reaches for his wine glass and Dew swallows with his mouth open, an odd, wet sound.

"Thirsty, hmm?" It's not a real question, and Dew doesn't respond. He simply watches, mouth watering as Rain's tongue glides over the rim of the glass. The crimson liquid flows over his lips, dark and decadent, and Dew has to grip at his garters to keep his hands from shaking.

Rain puts the glass down and leans over, smiling. He slides two fingers into the collar again and Dew lets himself be pulled forward, his breaths coming faster and faster. Rain's other hand grips at his jaw once they're nose-to-nose, and Dew feels his eyes glaze over.

Rain opens his mouth and lets the wine pour free. It flows over Dew's tongue in warm rivulets, sharp and smooth, berries and oak. Tinged with petrichor. He keeps his throat closed, lets it pool at the back of his mouth as he shivers. Rain is staring into his eyes and Dew wants to get lost in them. Rain pulls back once the last drops have fallen from his tongue, but his grip on Dewdrop's jaw keeps him from swallowing.

"One more thing," he says, voice edged with something dark.

Rain spits into his already filled mouth, and Dewdrop feels like he's drowning. Rain releases his grip and Dew swallows greedily, panting hard. His body is electric, the edges of his mind going wonderfully fuzzy already.

"Tell me what you are, babydoll." Rain's fingers tug at the ribbon again, and Dew is only too happy to say what he wants to hear.

"I'm...I'm your slut," he slurs, feeling the wet spot on his straining panties grow.

"Good girl," Rain breathes, and Dew thinks he's never been so happy to degrade himself. Rain leans in and licks a droplet of splashed wine from Dewdrop's painted lip. "Now let me treat you like one."

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #rain/dewdrop #dom!rain #sub!dewdrop

[flownwrong]

and you shall receive (due south fic)

Fraser/Kowalski, rated E; tags: established relationship, panties; 1.7K words

Summary: He wants to ask, what's that about, what were you thinking about, is this a woman thing, is this a gay thing, is this a Ray thing, what, what?—but it feels weird when he's already doing this.

A/N: @nigeltde-fic mentioned Ray and panties in one sentence. I said, I wanna write that. I wrote that. In under two hours. Thanks, Nige!

read on ao3

"Thank you kindly, ma'am," he hears Fraser say. "You can reach detective Kowalski at this number. Please don't hesitate to call if you remember any details."

Ray's at the back, running his fingers over the lavender silk of a camisole. Stella used to have one like this, way back, and it was thin and skin-warm under his fingers when he'd put his arm over her as she read in bed, and he was beat from the long day, squeezing his eyes against the glare of the bedside lamp until he'd pass out, and somehow that was what got him going later, when they had the time and the mood was right, seeing that loose, familiar thing on her when they'd brush their teeth side by side, golden light filtering through the frosted bathroom window, making the silk shimmer—oh yeah, that was the ticket.

Fraser puts a hand on his shoulder, and Ray turns to look, and he has this—expression, staring just above Ray's shoulder. Not deer in the headlights, more like a flashbulb over his head. He licks his lips and looks back to Ray, eyebrows raised.

"Gimme a second," Ray says, and Fraser nods, looks at Ray's hands still on the camisole, nods again and leaves. Ray waits until the wind chimes ding to see what the hell got Fraser's flashbulb on.

It's a rack. With panties. Not the hot pink scratchy monstrosities, but more subdued, all delicate patterns and price tags that bite. Ray takes a deep breath. Okay. Okay. So Fraser has—a thing, which thing? He'd read the files, knows damn well Fraser doesn't mind the implication—and hey, he should ask about that some time. But this is new, and that anybody could look at him and—

"Need a hand, love?"

The lady—the owner, their witness—barely reaches his shoulder and reminds him more of a librarian than a lingerie connoisseur. He sees, actually sees himself nod, like he's staring at the back of his own head. His hands are clammy and—yep, shaking.

"Um," he says, and she puts a hand on his arm, pushes him gently until his nose is practically touching the damn things.

"Let's see about the size." She eyes the rack critically, gives him a once over for good measure.

"Uh," he adds, ever helpful.

She reaches up with this hook-on-a-stick thing, pulls down a pair of navy blue panties from somewhere above their heads and holds them up, as in near his face, for some reason.

"Blue is your color," she says, with the finality of a judge, and pushes the things into his hands. They're soft, satiny, no bells and whistles, just fine dark fabric, except for the little mesh piece in the middle that would be an invitation on a girl, a road to the prize, but on him—probably go right over his dick and—do what? He has no idea.

And then he's somehow out the door, and god, he's really doing this, he is.

He drives Fraser to the consulate in a fog, squeezes his knee weakly and lets him go. Opens his jacket and sticks the little bag into the glove compartment, can't go into the station like this.

He's home before Fraser—thank fuck. 

He stares at the razor, puts it down, feeling a little sick. What if he read this wrong, what if he's—what if he chickens out and misses out on some new and unfamiliar Fraser? Perish the thought.

He showers, feels weird about rubbing down with his old towel, well overdue for laundry. Pads around to the cabinet, dripping on the floor, and grabs the one Fraser bought him because—hell knows why, but it's red and soft and big enough to wrap himself in and he instantly feels better.

The panties aren't exactly uncomfortable, but all he can see in the mirror is his skinny ass and his soft dick and his weird rib cage and—yep, no, they're not doing anything for him. But it's not what this is about, right? So he pulls the sweats over them and leaves the bedroom while he still can.

By the time Fraser's key turns in the lock, he's mostly breathing fine, and the dishes are all done—a necessary evil, something to do to keep himself from going batshit.

Fraser's managed to change and is walking towards him before he can talk himself out of it. Ray meets him in the middle, presses a hesitant kiss to his cheek. Has to hide his face in Fraser's neck then and hold onto his waist, and Fraser's hands come up to hold his shoulders, which, shit, he's got the shakes again, so much for the dishes.

Fraser puts a gentle hand on his face, tilts it up, eyes wide and disbelieving. Fuck knows what his own look like. He wants to ask, what's that about, what were you thinking about, is this a woman thing, is this a gay thing, is this a Ray thing, what, what?—but it feels weird when he's already doing this.

"Hey," he says and manages a smile. Fraser's warm and sure and safe and he feels the chills grow dull, let him go.

"Ray," Fraser says, a question, not a greeting. "You shaved."

He only shaves in the mornings, unless they have some fancypants place to be, which is not often, and even then Fraser has to give him a look, the times he pretends to forget.

"Uh, yeah," he rubs the back of his neck. "You hungry?"

Say no, say no, he begs silently; he's hungry, but his stomach is in knots and he's half-hard from the adrenaline alone—and yep, the mesh is stretching over him, not unpleasant, hugging his balls, too—and he doesn't think he could live through dinner.

"No," Fraser says, and it's a lie, he can see, but he thanks the patron saint of sexual experimentation anyway.

He doesn't know the next step, so he presses tighter against Fraser, with his rolled-up henley sleeves and his wondering eyes and his fingers spanning Ray's cheekbone, nestling themselves behind Ray's ear.

Fraser gives him this nod, this 'wow, really?' nod he gave Ray the first time Ray put his hand in Fraser's and meant it. Grabs his wrists, leads him down to the bedroom, gentles him down like he's spun glass, fuck, and closes the door—against what?

Fraser's hand spreads possessive over his ribs, and then he's down on the bed and Fraser's nestled between his legs and the sweats are off and he whimpers at the relief of it, at being spared the words and the wait.

Fraser doesn't even look at the panties—which, what? He takes Ray's hand, kisses his knuckles, frowns a little at Ray, and he closes his eyes, tries his best not to burrow into the pillow, whispers, "This what you meant?" and Fraser puts his head gently just above his knee and whispers back, "God, Ray, how did I—," and Ray says, "What, what?", and looks down at Fraser shaking his head, wearing this helpless, almost pleading look, and then he's kissing his way up and into the crook of Ray's thigh, and Ray shivers and draws his leg up and back and over Fraser's shoulder, and oh yeah, now it's the eyes-on-the-prize, all-in Fraser, nosing under the edge of the fabric, cupping him whole with one big hand, pressing down—and then he licks between his own fingers, keeps it up until Ray's leg jerks, almost kicking him in the ribs, and he keens and reaches for Fraser's shoulder and the back of his neck, thrusting up and up and up, his dick wet and full and almost hurting, and he could cry from the way Fraser's moving his whole body under Ray's hands, like he can't stay still, needs to put his fucking back into loving Ray, and his next breath catches on a sob, and Fraser's saying, "Thank you, Ray, fuck," and Ray can see the frantic movement of his hand where he's holding himself up on his knees, feels when he groans into Ray's belly and drops down and gets himself off against Ray's fucking calf, and Ray's gone, has to close his eyes and take deep breaths for a minute so his heart doesn't explode and take them both with it.

He zones back in as Fraser's sliding the panties down his legs gently, holding up one foot, then the other, so nothing catches on anything.

He waits until Fraser settles down, faces him on his side like a mirror image, pinkies touching on the pillow between them. 

"So," Ray says. He's not keyed up any more than usual, thank you kindly, and that just means the curiosity is back full force.

"Yes?" Fraser says, looking at Ray like he wants to pet his head or something. Ray shrugs and puts Fraser's hand in his hair, butts it gently until Fraser giggles and gets the message.

"So, you liked that."

"Mm-hmm."

"You're not gonna ask stupid questions, like how, or why, or am I okay, right?"

"Uh-uh."

Great. He broke the Fraser. Fucking underwear.

Ray has to squint to hold back a laugh. "But I get to ask?"

"And you shall receive."

"Freak," Ray says, presses a kiss to the inside of Fraser's wrist. "So, what's that about?"

"You," Fraser says, the kind of deadpan Ray can tell means serious.

"Me, what, me?" Ray waves a hand vaguely at the foot of the bed, where the panties must be still, he's not looking. "They'd look hotter on you. Uh, hypothetically." Not at this juncture.

"It's not about looks, Ray, and I disagree." Fraser leans over to kiss his shoulder.

"No? So you don't want me in, like, a getup or anything?"

"No," Fraser says, simply, "unless you'd like to," and smiles like a dope.

Ray sighs and goes to take care of the cleanup. Puts yesterday's excuse for risotto on the stove while he's up. Remembers Stella's lavender silk, and how Fraser held him before he even saw anything, gentle, gentle.

"So, you knew I'd do it if you looked at me right, and it's not a woman thing," he says, walking to the bedroom, and then he gets it, and stops in the doorway. "Shit, Frase. It's a trust thing?"

He waits a bit, lets him think—but when he looks, Fraser's asleep, his open hand waiting.

#my writing #how and why did i even manage to write this right now #like—i couldn't write all year #i just had a major crunch with a different fic #and i have another deadline staring me in the face #i think for the first time in my life i get what inspiration is supposed to mean #you know what #in spirit of christmas and such—i'm gonna say i think I'm getting better at this writing thing #due south #due south fic #f/k #fraser/rayk #fraser/kowalski

[narcissisticmf]

time to come | dean winchester x fem!reader

description: when dean is thrown five years into the future, he comes face to face with himself.

trigger warnings: angst, mentions of death, gun usage, slight seductive behavior, spoilers from season five, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: 1.4k

The room was dark and night has risen over the light sky, overwhelming blackness amongst the atmosphere. Dean slowly blinked as he felt his body was positioned in an irregular fashion, causing strains in his muscles. He grumbled and looked to his side seeing that his wrist was handcuffed to a rusted ladder. He looked across the room, through the darkness, to see himself cleaning a gun with an oil rag.

"What the hell?" Dean mumbled in a whisper as he stared blankly at himself.

"I should be asking that question, don't you think? In fact, why don't you give me one good reason why I shouldn't gank you right here and now?" Replied the other Dean, pursing his lips as he leaned forward after he placed the gun down onto the table as he was seated in a chair.

"Because you'd only be hurting yourself.." Dean released in a single breath.

"Very funny," Grumbled the other Winchester.

"Look, man, I'm no shapeshifter or demon or anything, okay?" Dean's voice was shaken as he had no idea where he was or why.

"Yeah, I know. I did the drill while you were out. Silver, salt, holy water—nothing. But you know what was funny? Was that you had every hidden lockpick, box cutter, and switchblade that I carry. Now, you want to explain that? Oh, and the, uh, resemblance, while you're at it?" Folding his hands together, he looked at Dean with an angry glare in his eyes.

Dean sucked in a breath and sighed in defeat, "Zachariah."

Pushing himself out of the chair, the other Dean stood up and stared down at himself, "Come again?"

"I'm you from the tail end of 2009. Zach plucked me from my bed and threw me five years into the future," Dean replied.

"Where is he? I want to talk to him," Future Dean clenched his fists.

"I don't know," Dean shrugged.

"Oh, you don't know," Future Dean mocked and rolled his eyes.

"No, I don't know. Look, I just want to get back to my own friggin' year, okay?" Dean looked up at his future self and watched as he knelt down before him.

"Okay. If you're me, then tell me something only I would know," He stated flatly.

Dean thought for a moment and felt his lips curve into a smirk, "Rhonda Hurley. We were, uh, nineteen. She made us try on her panties. They were pink. And satiny. And you know what? We kind of liked it."

Future Dean formed his lips into a frown and nodded softly, "Touché. So, what, Zach zapped you up here to see how bad it gets?"

"I guess. Croatoan virus, right? That's their endgame?" Dean questioned as he watched his future self stand and walk back towards the table. He lifted his gun and continued wiping it down further.

"It's efficient, it's incurable, and it's scary as hell. Turns people into monsters. Started hitting the major cities about two years ago. World really went in the crapper after that," Future Dean replied while looking down at the gun.

"What about Y/N?" Dean asked softly.

The room fell still as Dean's future self glanced up at nothing in particular. His shoulder fell as he swallowed a thick lump, his eyes looked back to Dean with his teeth clenched together.

"She's dead," Future Dean muttered, looking back down at the gun. "The virus infected her.. so I had to take her out myself."

"We killed her?" Dean's brow furrowed as his pupils dilated with the thought of having to do such a thing to you.

"She was with us at camp for a while, but after we came back from a supply run.. she took a hard hit and started to turn pretty fast," Future Dean cringed at the images flashing throughout his mind. "I had no choice," He looked at his past self and straightened his posture, swallowing thickly.

"You didn't bother trying to find a cure?" Dean cocked a brow. "Maybe Cas could've healed–"

"Cas?" Future Dean scoffed, "He's mortal here, he lost all his angel powers.. gave them up."

Dean released a quiet sigh, one without any sound as he noticed his future self grabbing a duffle bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Where you going?" Dean asked.

"I gotta run an errand," Future Dean spoke flatly.

"Whoa. You're just gonna leave me here?" He asked with his brows raised.

"Yes. I got a camp full of twitchy trauma survivors out there with an apocalypse hanging over their head. The last thing they need to see is a version of The Parent Trap. So, yeah, you stay locked down," Future Dean replied.

"Okay. Alright. Fine But you don't have to cuff me, man," Dean mumbled and watched as his future self headed for the door, "Oh, come on. You don't trust yourself?"

"No. Absolutely not," Future Dean replied and exited the cabin.

"Dick," Dean mumbled and released a soft sigh as he looked around the cabin, seeing a nail that stuck out of the floorboards. He smirked softly and reached over to pry it from the wood. Once it was pulled from the ground, he slowly reached it to remove the cuffs from his wrist. It took a few tries before he finally freed himself and sighed contently when he heard the cuffs fall against the floor behind him.

.

Sneaking out of the camp through the bushes, Dean glanced around and found that several people from his timeline were scattered about the field doing work and gathering rations. He looked ahead of him and crouched down to flee from the camp, attempting to find a way to get back to his time and to you.

Able to get away from the camp, Dean did his best to stay low and kept a handheld gun – that he took from his future self – low at his side between his fingertips. His gaze flickered across the street when he was several miles away from the campsite, seeing a cemetery sign.

Crossing the empty street, Dean walked along the dirt path that took him deeper into the abandoned place. It looked as though nobody had been there for years, but so did everything else in this time period he was thrown into.

His eyes flickered around the gravestones and soon laid upon yours. He furrowed his brow and walked towards it, seeing your name plastered amongst it:

Y/N Y/L/N

1979 - 2014

He stood before it with tears burning in his eyes. He wondered if being buried was something you wanted, since it wasn't a typical hunter's funeral. His knees sank into the ground as he gazed at the tombstone, gently reaching his fingertips up to trace your name.

"How could I let this happen?" Dean whispered as a few tears slipped. "I'm sorry, Y/N/N.. I'm so sorry."

His head hung low as he let a few more tears fall down the bridge of his nose and drip against the grass. Sensing a presence behind him, Dean pushed himself off the grass and turned around to see Zachariah standing with a smirk to his lips. He took his index and middle finger and gently pressed them against his forehead.

.

Taking in a sharp breath, Dean shot up from the bed of his motel room drenched in a cold sweat. His eyes looked about the room to notice he was back in 2009. He sighed softly and let his gaze flicker to the door that was opening.

"Hey, Dean, look the store didn't have any apple pie so I got you cherry instead, is that o–?" You were interrupted after you placed the bags down on the table as you noticed Dean hurried off the bed to walk towards you.

He cupped your face and pressed his lips against your passionately. You were taken back at first, but eased into the gesture and let your hands hold his wrists softly. Your lips molded together effortlessly. His tongue slipped between your lips and battled with yours for a moment.

"Dean.." You released a soft breath after he pulled back, your cheeks flushed with heat. "Are you okay?" You smiled softly at him.

"Yeah.. I am now," Dean muttered and gazed down at you fondly. You smiled sweetly and felt him dip his head down to kiss you once again.

.

a/n: hi, my dears! so i've been feeling really down in the dumps lately and writing with dean has been helping a ton. i hope these comfort you guys in any way. i love you all very dearly. be safe and treat people with kindness. — angelina.

#smut #imagine #x reader #reader #edit #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #spn #spn aesthetic #spn x reader #spnfandom #spn spoilers #spn fic #spn x y/n #spn oneshot #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shot #spn season 5 #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean x you #angst #comfort #future #spn imagine #spnfamily

[toxophilitis]

Mom Loves It Outdoors    cont

CHAPTER FOUR

That evening, Susan came from her bath into the living room, where her son and daughter were. She stood in the hall doorway, smiling as she watched them, wrapped in a big towel, long legs showing to her hips.

Toby was sitting at the end of the eight-foot couch, turned to face the other end. Ginger was sprawled on it, her head resting on the padded arm rest, her hair a lovely halo around her sweet face. She wore a dress, but it was open at the top, her small tits displayed in saucy sweetness.

Her right leg was bent at the knee, resting against the back of the couch, the left over the cushions. Her dress was at her waist, and the tight, sparkling white panties showed. The crotch was tight, molding the sugary slit of her succulent cunt for her brother to enjoy.

Toby gazed with pleasure upon his sister's body, his cock out of his jockey shorts. It was very hard, the head smooth and swollen. He had pulled his jockey shorts to one side, freeing his preciously hot balls, too.

Susan smiled with fondness as she watched them, her hairy cunt vibrating with tingling delight. Ginger, although expressing shyness, was obviously excited to be exposing herself so freely now.

"Wanna see a pussy, Toby?" Ginger asked softly, her small fingers toying with her panties.

"Yeah, show me your pussy, Ginger," Toby panted, his cock swaying. "Let me see your cunt."

Susan's legs trembled as her daughter moved a fingertip along the tight crotch of her panties, tracing the outline of her cunt. Susan moved her own hand into the fold of the towel, running her fingers through the softness of her pussy hair, her eyes turning glassy with desire.

Ginger pushed her finger into the edge of her panties and glanced up at their mother, a shy smile spreading over her lovely features. Susan nodded her head, unnecessarily, parting the fold of her towel so Ginger could see her fingers toying with her soft pussy hair. Toby caught his sister's glance and turned to see his mother. He grinned at her, then his attention went back to his sister.

Susan moved into the room, pausing a few feet from the couch, watching her daughter as intently as her son was. She loosened her towel, letting it fall to the floor, standing in beautiful nakedness before them. Toby gazed at his mother, drinking in the slender form, the thrust of her tilted tits, the flatness of her stomach, the inviting swell of her rounded ass. His cock beaded at his piss-hole, and Susan worked her tongue in her mouth as she watched his juices slowly slide over the smooth head of his cock to the shaft.

"Show us your pretty little cunt, Ginger," Susan moaned hotly.

"Oooh, yes," Ginger gurgled, her finger stretching her panties to the side.

The pink, sugary slit glistened wetly. The flesh was puffy, and the tiny tip of Ginger's clit poked upward from the folds. The slit of Ginger's cunt was narrow, flowing flawlessly into the cheeks of her compact ass. Looking at Ginger, Susan felt a strong impulse to bury her face between those satiny thighs, lick and kiss her daughter's cunt, run her tongue and sucking mouth up and down the slit from clit to spine, tasting it all, even her crinkling pink asshole. Her cunt seemed to draw inward, a fiery sensation building swiftly.

Toby was panting as he swivelled his eyes from his sister to his mother, excited by the difference in their bodies. Where his mother had a very hairy cunt, his sister's was practically hairless, smooth as velvet. His balls hardened as his cock jerked back and forth.

Holding her panties to one side, Ginger used her other hand to caress her own cunt, making little sounds of pleasure, her ass writhing. Like her brother, she looked at their mother, then at her brother's cock and balls. Dipping her finger downward, she eased her finger into her pussy, grinning impishly at her mother and brother, a slight flush on her face, a combination of excitement and shyness.

Toby groaned as he watched his sister ease her finger in and out of her cunt, and grabbed his cock, squeezing it hard, the head bulging, more wetness coming from his piss-hole. Susan drew in a deep breath, her firm tits lifting. She leaned over, pushing her son's hand off his cock, taking it in her own, eyes blazing as she watched her daughter agitate her small, vibrating clit with the tip of a finger.

"Toby, I want this in me," Susan panted, pumping her son's cock vigorously. "I want your cock in my pussy! This cock belongs in mother's cunt, baby!"

Before he could respond, Susan stepped onto the couch, facing her daughter, her back to Toby. She straddled her son, and slowly bent her knees, lowering her crotch. Holding her knees wide open so Ginger could see, she used her fingers to spread her cunt. She touched her cunt to the head of her son's cock, rubbing back and forth, soft gasping sounds coming from her.

Ginger's eyes smoldered as she stared between her mother's legs, watching her fuzzy, wet pussy rub over the head of Toby's cock. Her finger moved faster into her cunt, making soft squishy sounds.

"Sit down on him, Mother!" Ginger urged. "Sit down on Toby's cock!"

"Toby's cock," Susan repeated in a throaty voice. "You like watching mother put his cock in her cunt, honey?"

"Ohhh, yes, Mother! I love to see his hard cock in your cunt!"

"Watch it go in me, Ginger!" Susan whimpered, lowering her ass.

From behind her back, Toby was gazing with excitement at the spreading of his mother's shapely ass. He saw the pucker of her light brown asshole, and on an impulse, touched the tip of his finger to the hot crinkle.

"Ooooh, Toby!" Susan gasped as she felt his finger there. "Ohhhh, baby, feel me right there!"

With the head of her son's cock inside her cunt, spreading it, Susan writhed her ass in a circular motion, breathing deeply as steamy sensations flooded her body. Her tits tilted upward, nipples straining with hardness, her shoulders back. Toby rubbed at his mother's asshole, panting as he felt her cunt close around his cock. The soft but tight clasp of her cunt sent shivering ecstasy through him, and he rubbed firmly at her puckering asshole as he gazed at her ass twisting in quick circles.

Ginger was moaning as she watched her mother push her bushy cunt down onto Toby's cock, her small finger darting rapidly into her own pussy with juicy sounds. When her mother pushed all the way down, she cried out softly.

"It's all in, Mother! You've got all Toby's cock in your cunt!"

"God, I know that!" Susan gasped, feeling her son's cock throb deeply in her cunt. With one hand, she cupped his balls, twisting and pulling them, a finger of her other hand working on her knotted clit as she whipped her ass about on his prick. "So hard and long inside me, Toby! Ooooh, I can feel your cock jerk in my cunt! Rub my ass... finger mother's asshole! Ahhhh, I'm going to fuck you good, baby! Mother is going to fuck your hard cock good! Mother's cunt is going to eat your sweet, hard cock up!"

"Fuck him, Mother!" Ginger sobbed, twisting her small ass about as her finger rammed in and out. "Fuck his cock off! Bounce up and down his hard cock, Mother!"

"Oh, yes!" Susan cried softly, thrusting her ass up and down, her cunt riding her son's cock with tight heat. She lifted high, but not so high that his cock came out, then rammed down again to the base, grinding and breathing with excitement. She was now squeezing her tits as her hips rotated wickedly in an up and down screwing motion. "I'm going to fuck your brother's cock off! I'm going to fuck my son's hard cock with my hot, wet cunt! I want you to come a gallon in mother's wet cunt, Toby! I love to feel a hard cock squirt up my hot pussy!"

Toby wiggled his finger against her asshole, making his mother squeal with increased pleasure. Juices began to build at the base of his cock. He stared at his mother's grinding ass with hot eyes, unable to see his sister now. But what he was seeing was enough. His mother's cunt was holding his cock very tightly as it slid up and down, and his young body was starting to shiver with wonderful sensations.

"Take your panties off!" Susan moaned as she bounced up and down. "Take those fucking panties off so I can see your sweet cunt, Ginger! I want to see your soft cunt while I fuck the piss out of Toby!"

With gasping eagerness, Ginger stripped her tight panties off swiftly, flinging her slender legs wide apart for her mother. Susan's eyes glazed with passion as she stared at her daughter's sugary cunt. She pounded as hard and fast as she could on her son's rigid cock. Dropping her hands from her tits, she shoved them along her daughter's inner thighs, her thumbs parting the soft lips of Ginger's cunt. She stared at the way the small clit bulged, the wetness that was seeping from the pink flesh, glistening on the creamy cheeks of that excitingly rounded ass.

"You're wet, Ginger," she moaned. "Your little cunt is so wet! Oh, you look so hot... so wonderfully wet and hot!"

Ginger arched her hips, her legs flung as far open as possible. "I am hot, Mother! My cunt is on fire!"

"Can you see me fuck Toby? Can you watch my cunt suck his hard cock up inside? Can you see how his cock stretches and fills mother's wet pussy?"

"Ooooh, yes, Mother! Fuck him, Mother! Fuck Toby!"

"I am fucking Toby!" Susan sobbed.

"Ohhhh, I'm fucking my son, Ginger! I'm fucking my son's big, hard cock, and it makes my cunt feel so good! Ooooh, I want to come and come on his hard cock!"

Toby was hunching his hips up and down now, fucking into his mother's cunt as she thrust and churned. He felt her asshole crinkling against his finger, and began to rub at it again, making his mother's hip-churning movements become wilder. Each time his mother lifted her ass, he saw his cock in her cunt, the soft hair clinging to the shaft with wetness, the pink slit gripping him. He would catch a glimpse of his sister's cunt when his mother lifted her ass, which added to his rapidly growing rapture.

Susan, with soft cries of ecstasy, pulled her right hand away from her daughter's cunt, grabbing her son's balls again. She held them tightly in her hand, pounding her cunt up and down his cock. She then pushed a finger into her daughter's cunt, and began to stab in and out, making Ginger thrust her young ass into the air with cries of delight.

"Do it to me, too, Mother! Ooooh, fuck me with your finger, Mother! Ahhhh, I like that, Mother! It makes my cunt so... so hot!"

"Ohhhh!" Susan yelped. "I'm going to come!"

She smashed hard onto her son's cock, grinding back and forth with a quick twist of her ass. She felt her son's finger pressing at her asshole as the contractions gripped her cunt. She screamed out as the convulsions swept through her, her cunt gripping in waves of tightness at the base of Toby's cock. Her finger thrust as deep as it would go into her daughter's cunt, bringing a cry from Ginger. Her thumb smashed the small, hard clit. Ginger's hips shot upward, and she grabbed her mother's hand with both of hers, holding it tight at her pussy.

"Me, too!" Ginger gasped. "Ohhh, I'm coming too, Mother!"

Through the steamy orgasm of her own cunt, Susan felt her daughter's tight pussy grab at her finger, then the sucking waves as Ginger exploded with a hard orgasm around it. She began to thrust her finger rapidly in and out of the spasming cunt as she crushed her own to the base of her son's cock, grinding in mindless ecstasy.

Toby was gritting his teeth as he felt his mother's cunt grip his cock in orgasm. She was holding his balls almost painfully, and with his finger still pressed against her puckering asshole, he gripped her hip with his other hand, pushing his cock hard at her straining cunt. He wanted to come badly, and his balls ached with fullness, yet he held off. The feeling was so intense, so good, he wanted it to last. He stared at his mother's grinding ass, mouth gaping as he panted heavily.

"Ohhhh, Mother!" Ginger moaned as she calmed somewhat. "You made me come so hard!"

With her own orgasm fading, Susan giggled. "I know I did, Ginger. I felt your cunt. God, that's a tight little pussy, baby."

"I didn't come yet," Toby said to his mother's back.

Susan twisted her head to look at him, eyes shining. "You will, don't worry. I'm not finished with your cock yet, darling. When I fuck a guy, he can say he's been fucked!"

She drew her finger out of her daughter's cunt, seeing how soaked in pussy juice it was. She brought it to her mouth, licking up and down it, then at her wet palm. She stared into her daughter's fiery crotch as she started once more running her cunt up and down her son's jerking cock. Ginger's whole crotch was glistening wetly, with juices still dribbling from the sweet slit to her ass. Ginger, as young as she was, had a very wet cunt.

Without a word, Susan leaned over, her face hovering above her daughter's cunt, breathing in the heady, sweet scent of it. As she leaned, she scooted her knees backward, and held them open with her son's cock inside her bushy cunt. Toby now had a fantastic view of his mother's crotch, of the way her cunt clung to his cock, and could watch her light brown asshole crinkle. Leaning forward with her upper body held by her elbows, Susan began moving from her waist, fucking her son again.

"Can you see all of me this way, Toby?" she moaned.

"I can see everything now, Mom!" he moaned.

"Then watch my ass, baby! Watch mother's hot ass and cunt fuck you!"

As her ass twisted and bounced, Toby stroked the satiny cheeks, running his fingers into the spreading split to rub her asshole again. Susan squealed in pleasure, humping on his cock almost frantically. She pushed her face down and gave the creamy inside flesh of Ginger's thigh a wet kiss, sliding her hands underneath the lifted little ass, clutching the cheeks in her palms. She stared glassy-eyed into the juicy cunt, and with a soft cry, opened her mouth and smashed it over her daughter's cunt.

"Ohhhh, Mother!" Ginger gasped, thrusting her crotch against her mother's mouth and grabbing the back of her head.

Susan sucked at her daughter's cunt, her tongue working at the soft, hot lips and bulging clit. She squeezed and manipulated Ginger's tight ass, her own ass pounding wickedly up and down, fucking her son's cock with her fiery cunt in wanton abandonment. She darted her tongue into the scalding wetness of her daughter's pussy, probing and wiggling at the velvety walls, her upper lip crushing the vibrating clit, her bottom lip at the lower end of the sugary slit. Her mouth filled with the sweet juices, and she swallowed them greedily. She twisted her mouth into Ginger's cunt, smearing her face into the soft, hot wetness.

Toby was plunging his cock up and down, ramming into his mother's gripping cunt as fast as her ass moved on him. He rubbed at her burning asshole with his finger.

Susan's mind spun with erotic excitement. The feel of her daughter's soft cunt on her mouth created more wildness in her. She lapped up and down the fiery slit, licking the swollen cunt from one end to the other. She closed her lips around the swollen clit, sucking hard on it, her tongue flicking hungrily.

"Ooooh, Mother, that's so good!" Ginger cried out, grinding in a frenzy at her mother's licking, sucking mouth. "Lick it for me, Mother! That feels better than a finger! Lick my cunt, Mother! Ahhh, suck on my cunt! Oh, keep doing that and I'll come again, Mother!"

Holding her daughter's thrashing ass tightly, Susan tongue fucked the sweet pussy with eager pleasure, her cunt in constant movement on her son's cock. Her asshole was burning as her son kept up a steady rubbing against it. The tingle was new, different.

Lifting her now soaked mouth, she urged her son with a breathy voice, "In there, Toby! Put your finger inside my ass, baby!"

"Really, Mom?" he asked excitedly.

"Yes, really! Put your finger up my ass!"

When her son increased the pressure on her asshole, she held her ass still, his cock halfway in her cunt. She held her breath, her mouth closed again around Ginger's wet cunt, eyes closed, holding Ginger's tight ass in her palms. Toby eased his finger past the ring of his mother's asshole. Susan, gasping as her asshole stretched, felt her cunt squeeze his cock convulsively.

"Ohhhh, that feels good, Toby!" she hissed against Ginger's cunt. "Ohhh, does that ever feel good! Hard cock up my cunt and your finger up my asshole! Ooooh, this will make me come so fucking hard! See if you can fuck me in my asshole with your finger, darling! Just hold still and I'll fuck your cock with my cunt, and suck Ginger's sweet cunt at the same time!"

Once more pounding her cunt up and down her son's throbbing cock, she began sucking and licking and tongue fucking her daughter in frenzy. Her son's finger stabbing into her asshole created a delicious sensation. She felt stuffed from cunt to asshole, and her mouth was hungrily sucking slippery juices from her daughter's delightful cunt.

"Suck her cunt, Mom!" Toby gasped as he rammed his rigid finger in and out of their mother's clasping asshole. "Suck Ginger's hot pussy! Make her come in your mouth, Mom! Oh, I can see your cunt fuck my cock, and your asshole is so hot and tight! Do you like getting fingerfucked in your asshole, Mom?"

"I love it!" Susan wailed into Ginger's twisting crotch. "Fuck my ass! Fingerfuck my asshole! Ooooh, I want more pussy... more cock! I want to suck your cunt dry, Ginger, and fuck your balls dry, Toby!"

"Lick me, Mother! Lick my cunt and fuck his cock!" Ginger cried, slamming her crotch up and down, gripping the back of her mother's head tightly, clamping the fiery thighs about her mother's face, then flinging them wide apart as her cunt attempted to pull her mother's face into it. "Ooooh, this is sure gonna make me come!"

Susan swung her ass rapidly as her son gripped it. She arched her ass, feeling him bang powerfully into her cunt, smashing the swollen pussy lips. Her leaning angle caused her clit to be rubbed by the shaft of his cock, and his finger was ramming faster and faster into her asshole. She plunged her tongue deep into the steamy softness of her daughter's cunt, feeling an overwhelming orgasm swell in her body. Her cunt was reacting with rippling waves on her son's cock, and for the first time in her life, Susan was finding she had a very sensitive asshole.

"Mother, you're gonna make me come!" Ginger cried out. "Ohhh, your tongue is so deep in me! I'm gonna come, Mother!"

Susan plunged her long tongue rapidly and squeezed at Ginger's tightening ass, pulling the fiery cunt hard into her open, sucking mouth. At the same time, she rammed her cunt down onto the base of her son's cock, and felt his finger move deeply into her clutching asshole. With a muffled wail, Susan began to come, her cunt squeezing the base of her son's cock, her asshole gripping so tight that it seemed to be trying to sever his buried finger. As she came, she sucked juices from her daughter's cunt, gulping them down hungrily. She thrilled to the flexing softness about her tongue, and as her orgasm gained power, she felt as if her asshole was having an orgasm, too.

"Here it comes, Mom!" Toby shouted.

Again Susan screamed into her daughter's cunt. Toby's cock squirted hot juices into her, flooding her clasping pussy, making her thinks the juices were expanding the walls. She ground onto her son's spurting cock, her contractions tightening more and more, her cunt compressing about Toby's spewing prick and her asshole gripping in hot waves at his still-darting finger.

Weakness came over her when it was finished, and she slumped. Her ass was lifted because her knees were at Toby's hips, and she rested her face in her daughter's steamy crotch. She felt Toby's cock soften inside her cunt, and when he gently pulled his finger out of her asshole, she moaned. Her cunt began to squeeze his cock out, and she moaned happily as her daughter caressed her face and her son stroked her parted thighs and creamy, naked ass.

Susan shivered, glowing with pleasure, hugging her daughter's hips as she kissed at the pink cunt as if it were a mouth, feeling come juice drip from her cunt.

[cooloddball]

I've just finished reading the latest insallation of Hello,Goodbye and I have to ask, why does Dean have a pink dildo called Missy?

Btw I can't wait to see what Emma and Claire uncover in their investigation? Will they find out the truth? And if they do what then?

*hides face*

look, it was supposed to be called rhonda hurley instead but i forgot to edit it. it was inspired by dean's reveal in s5 of spn when he told his future self that rhonda hurley made them wear pink satiny panties and they liked it.

i'm going to hide now.

*as for emma and claire how i can't say much about whether or not they'll tap into their inner nancy drew but i surprise myself with every sentence i write. let's find out how it goes; together.

#asks #anon #my writing #hello.goodbye.

[inkykeiji]

Hello Baby!!!

I have some darling questions (sorry, that's what I call the reader or y/n, if you don't like it I'll change it!) I really feel a beautiful attraction to darling, you see, I identify with her a lot, I like to be pampered, my boyfriend calls me baby, crybaby, dollface and his favorite, angel (he says in his own words "You remind me of something pure and soft and you're so pretty that it's hypnotic to me, the reason I chose that nickname was that with you I learned to love and be loved. Being by your side makes me feel that I can overcome my problems, that I can leave them behind and rest. That I can make mistakes, I can lose control, not be the best and still you stay by my side"), when i read darling i feel like we're best friends! So I would really like to get to know her more or even know more about you!! you look so cute to me!! I want to know more about both! What kind of perfumes do you use or which ones would darling use? what kind of underwear (not in a perverted sense! I just think that underwear can be so cute! WUAAA what kind of nails would darling do?! (≧▽≦) I don't have female or cute friends who share this type of aesthetic but finding This blog gave me a space where I can get my baby side, I hope we can be friends!

my favorite character is touya in the twins! He reminds me too much of my boyfriend <3 so perfect, hard-working, protective, classic but intimidating! but also soft, playful and safe.

sorry for my english! I hope everything I say makes sense! little kisses!

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭

hello!!! (´∀｀)♡ anon i love u so much this is such a CUTE message!!!!!! <3

it’s perfectly fine if you’d like to call my readers ‘darling’!! that’s such a cute term of endearment, i really love it <3 aw anon!!! that’s so sweet of him to say 🥺🥺🥺 i’m glad you both feel comfortable and trusting towards each other!! and i absolutely love being called those nicknames as well!! <3

AWW HEHEHE that’s actually the cutest thing ever, i’m so happy to hear that you relate to her!!!! <33 oh thank you so much for that hehe <333 well you’re welcome to ask whatever you’d like about me!! i usually won’t answer super personal questions but you can ask about whatever you’re curious about! it’s always worth a shot c:

okay so since my readers are all technically different people/characters from one another, their answers for some of your questions would be a lil different! since twin!touya is your favourite, i’m going to answer your questions for her, okay?? <3 if you’re curious about any of my other readers you are once again welcome to ask for them as well!

what kind of perfume do you/reader use?

clari: i use both jimmy choo eau de toilette and jimmy choo eau de parfum.

twins!reader: she’d also use both jc EDT and jc EDP like i do (tbh in my mind all of my readers use these in my mind!), and probably something like ysl black opium eau de parfum!! both twin touya + twin dabi would be absolutely obsessed with this scent <3

what kind of undies do you/reader wear?

clari: i love love love delicate and lacy panties!! either in bikini cut or thong <3

twins!reader: i discussed what type of lingerie the twins enjoy her in, but for her personally, she’d love sweet, soft satin and silk undies!! bikini cut, in various shades of pink, ivory, black and crimson. bonus points if they have some cute ruffles on the back or a little bow on the front! <3

what kind of nails do you/reader do?

clari: i actually really dislike painting my nails so mine are always left natural!

twins!reader: the shape of her nails would be squoval & she’d get shellac manicures in satiny, metallic reds, pinks, and whites <3 (they match her undies!!! how cute! touya would love this)

aw anon!!! of course we can be friends!! i’m super happy to hear that my blog can be a space for you to safely explore this part of yourself!! please do not apologize for your english, it’s perfect! <3 little kisses right back to you, sweetpea ♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )

#soooooo sweet!!!!! #this ask made me feel all warm inside <333 #thank you for your questions and your interaction!!! #i am very happy to hear that you resonate with my characters <3 #have a marvellous friday and enjoy your weekend!! #stay safe + drink enough water my friend!! #inky.bb #clari gets mail #letters to clari #long post

[myriaed]

Random question time! How did Rhonda manage to make Dean try on her panties?

girls can be very persuasive...

but in this case, rhonda was a very special kind of sexual awakening for dean. they were both young, though rhonda was a little older than him, and a bit more sexually experienced. she had a genuine interest in him beyond just a one-night stand, and they spent most of the whole first night they were together just hanging out, sharing a few beers, and shooting pool. rhonda has the kind of personality that makes people want to open up to her, tell her their secrets, and who don't often mind trying things when she has a crazy (but safe and fun) idea.

this was exactly the case with dean trying on her panties. they had spent a few nights together, and the topic of clothing had come up as they were stretched out on rhonda's bed in little more than their birthday suits. rhonda mentioned that one of her favorite fabrics was satin, and dean (of course) said he'd never owned or worn anything made of satin in his life. rhonda got a wild look in her eye and jumped up to rummage in the top drawer of her dresser, pulling out a pair of pink satin panties that she hung on one finger and waved in dean's direction.

R: "try 'em on." D: "what? no. no way." R: "oh c'mon! it's not like anyone is gonna see you. don't you wanna see how good they feel?"

it may have taken a little convincing, and a promise of a certain blissful activity being in his near future with that very same pair of panties wrapped around a very specific part of dean, but eventually he agreed and put them on. the blush on his cheeks matched the satiny fabric on his other cheeks, and rhonda has still never to this day seen a prettier sight.

#headcanon: rhonda hurley

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

The End (5x04) is a goldmine of memorable moments

From Castiel's frustrated, "This isn't funny, Dean. The voice says I'm almost out of minutes." to him just waiting by the side of the road, at night, in the dark, so his human friend can sleep.

To Dean's running that I have totally not watched about a thousand times...

To Baby being ruined 💔

To Dean being handcuffed like this by his future self

To “Okay, if you’re me, then tell me something only I would know.”

“Rhonda Hurley. We were, ah, 19. She made us try on her panties. They were pink and satiny, and you know what? We kinda liked it.”

“Touché.”

To the thigh holster that I'm not at all jealous of.

To Castiel’s sex cult.

To the foreshadowing of 2020...

To our boys making up…

“Maybe we are each other’s Achilles heel. Maybe they’ll find a way to use us against each other, I don’t know. I just know we’re all we’ve got. More than that, we keep each other human.”

#spn 5x04

[daddycest-hub]

P3 of Ask: Suddenly remembering Emily already left for Work, taking their 2 Youngest 2 school, leaving him & his Y/N with the house 2 themselves, Cordell's Handsome Bearded Face is soon Covered with a Mega-Sleazeball Sleazy Smirk. He Whips out his Phone, Activating the Video Recording Function, & Sneakily Sets it on the Toilet Top, aimed directly at the Y/N Walker Bubbly Shower Show! He then leans against the DoorF, resting his shoulder against it, Arms Crossed, like he's just minding his own B!

P4: Just minding his own Business, not Staring with Lidded Lusty Eyes, a Sleazy Smirk on his Face, & Thick Bulge in his Pants straining against the Zipper, Recording & Enjoying his Personal Private Daddy Eye's Only Porno! Out of the Corner of his Eye, a Flash of Bright Pink, Like a Wolf his Lecherous Gaze Snaps down in the color's direction, locking eye's on his Princess's Pretty Lacy Frilly Silky Satiny Pink Panties & Bra, in a Pile on the floor. Eye's Widening & Lighting up, ... P5 Sorry! ;)

P5: Cordell's Eye's Widen, Light up, & Darken at the same time, his Smirk getting Wider/Sleazier, & after a Quick Look at his Lil Princess, Bends down 2 the floor & with one hand of Twitching & Wiggling Fingers, Scoops up his Discovery. Pinching them by the Corners he holds them up before his eyes, presenting the Pink Bowed Crotch 2 his gaze. He then looks at his Daughter, still Unaware & Showering, & brings them 2 his Nose 4 a Deep, Manly Sniff, shuddering/quietly groaning at the Scent of her!

P6: Perhaps beneath the Cute Pink Bow, right where her Pretty Kitty touches the Crotch Area, there's a Dark Wet Stain, a Lil Morning Nectar from a Naughty Dream perhaps? ;) Heart Pounding Wildly, Blood Pumping Downwards, Cordell Lasciviously Licks his Lips at the Sight, looking at his Lil Sugar Cube, just in time 2B Blessed with the sight of her Lovely Pussy, as she Washes her Nether Regions. His eye's Fixed on her Dripping Cunt & Cute Clit, he brings the Stain Cloth 2 his Lips. P7 Sorry! ;)

P7: Tongue Sleazily Sliding from his Mouth to Flick that Seductive Stain, Quietly Groaning at how Sweet his Daughter's Honey Tastes on his Tongue, a Taste he'll never get enough of. He Presses his Prize to his Face with one hand, Sniffing and Licking it, using the other to Palm his Thick Daddy Bulge, Humping his Hand, as he Watches his Lil Girl! Soon Fantasizing he's Licking and Sniffing Y/N's Panties, as she wears them, Eating her Cunt as she Showers, Savoring her Slick and Sweet Honeypot! P8!

P8: As she Rubs a Sudsy Sponge over her Thighs/Pussy, Cordell Slowly & Sleazily Slides the Material over his Bearded Face, Marking himself with her Sweet Sexual Virgin Scent, Enviously Dreamin he was in that Sponge's place, leaving Whiskey Burns of Love & Horny Hickeys wherever the Sponge goes! Growling in Lustful Jealousy in2 the Fabric, when she slides the Sponge up her Lil Belly, 2 her Sweet Succulent Saddlebag Tiddies, So Beautifully Bouncy and Juicily Jiggly. Oh! What Lovely Ripe Fruits! P9

Sorry for getting distracted/off course, here's Part 9: As he Watches his Sweet Sugar Cube, Wash her Saddlebag Boobies, her Lil Pink Nipples all Hard from the Hot Water, Cordell wonders if they Taste like Sugar Cubes, Growling at the sight and thought, biting Down on his Daughters Panties! ;) His hand not Cutting it anymore, he Slowly Slides the Material from his Lips, as he does this, he undoes his Pants with a Light Jingle of Belt and Unzipping Sound of Zipper, his Cock Bulging in his Boxers!

P10: Desperate to Cum, Cordell shoves his Daughter's Soft Sweet Panties in2 his Boxers, Shuddering & Groaning Lowly as the Silky Satiny Material comes into contact with his Thick Daddy Meat, the feel everything he's ever Dreamed of & More. As he opens his Eyes, having Squeezed them Shut at the Sensation, he continues his Lil Peep Show, Jackin his Cowboy Cock, Sliding her Panties up & down, all over his Plump Daddy Balls! ;) He can't resist the Delightful Dirty Daydream that fills his Horny Head!

P11: As Y/N slides the Soft Bubbly Sponge over her Flesh, Reveling in the Calming Sensations of her Shower, she Fails 2 hear the Door Close. Her eyes closed in Bliss, she doesn't see her Father, Cordell Walker, Lock it with a Satisfying Click! Doesn't see him Silently Slink toward her with a Sleazy Smirk, Lustful Eyes, & Sporting a Huge Bulge between his Long Thick Legs! Stopping B4 his Daughter, he Enjoys the view for one final Moment, before his hand Shoots out like an Angry Rattlesnake. P12!

P12: His hand bites into the Foamy Sponge, Ripping it from her hands, throwing it over his Shoulder sending Suds everywhere, as it hits the wall with a hard wet thunk. Y/N lets out a Cute Squeak of Shock and Fear, her eyes flying open, Blushing and Quickly Covering trying herself with her hands, accidentally making her Tits look even Bigger as she presses one arm/hand against them, using the other to hide her pussy, when she see's her Dear Daddy standing right in front of her! P13

P13: "D-Daddy? What are you d-doing?" Y/N Cutely Squeaks in Confusion & Embarrassment, trying & failing to hide her body, her Tits just Squishing & Spilling up through her arm. Cordell just stands there, eyeing her up & down, a Gleeful Dark Glimmer in his Eyes as he Smirks. "Daddy's Hungry Sugar Cube." He growls lustfully, licking his lips as he devours her with his eyes. Sweet Naïve Virgin Y/N blinks & smiles sweetly, "Oh! You want me to finish my shower & make you breakfast? Of course Daddy!"

[Cordell and his Sugar Cube are alone at home. After spotting her in the shower, he decides it’s time for his baby to learn just how much he loves her.]

Cordell saw the bathroom door was just slightly open. He wouldn't have looked in at all except he heard Y/N's gentle humming over the spray of the water. So, he peeked and found that not only was Y/N in the shower, but she'd left the shower curtain open. Her soapy, naked body was bare for anyone to see.

He stared for a few moments, processing the glorious gift the universe had just handed him. He really should finish getting ready for work but.... Emily had already left with Stella and August and he had a little more time before he really needed to get into the office.....

Mind set, he whipped his phone out and pulled up his camera, the hit record. He wasn't going to waste a good opportunity. He palmed his hardening cock over his jeans while he recorded the show. It wasn’t his first time seeing his Sugar Cube on display but there was something especially arousing about the spontenaity of this. He was never meant to see his Y/N like this; it was like a special treat.

A flash of pink on the counter caught his eye and his mouth watered when he saw a set of bright pink lacy underwear sitting in the open. He set the phone down, still recording and pointed at the shower, and reached over to grab the panties. With a quick glance to make sure Y/N still hadn’t seen him, he moved them closer to his face to inspect them.

They were bright pink and sanity with pretty little lace flowers on them and a small bow right above her crotch. He brought them up under his nose to sniff them and groaned at the scent. That was what his Sugar Cube smelled like. He was already addicted to it.

He inspected the panties closer and he nearly drooled seeing there was a wet spot right where her pussy would be if she was wearing them. He knew she didn’t piss herself, so that spot must be from her sweet slick. He glanced over at Y/N again and smirked to see that she’d turned toward him. She was washing between her left, so her glistening cunt was on full display. And it was beautiful.

He brought the fabric up to his lips and licked and sucked the stain on the crotch of her panties while he kept his eyes focused on her pussy. He imagined it was her sweet, slick pussy under his tongue and groaned into the fabric as his long, hard cock strained against the confines of his pants. The zipper was going to break if this kept up, so he quickly reached down and undid his pants. He slid his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock and took it in his hands, stroking slowly while he licked her panties and watched her touch herself in the shower. His eyes followed the sudsy sponge as it moved away from her crotch, up her belly, to her large and perky saddlebag tits. His eyes darkened as her tits bounced and jiggled with each movement and pictured his own hands doing that.

As the sponge moved up to her soft neck, he dropped the panties from his face and wrapped them around his cock. He thrust into them, imagining it was her warm cunt he was fucking into. He moved his boxers down a little further to reveal his plump balls and rubbed the panties over them as well.

He was so, so close to cumming. But no matter how much he imagined licking her sweet pussy and groping her saddlebag tits, it wasn’t enough. He’d spent too long fantasizing about this. Having the opportunity right in front of him....he couldn’t resist.

Y/N was so caught up in her shower that she didn’t notice anything her Daddy was doing. She didn’t hear him shut the door and lock it. She didn’t see him double check that his recording was still going and adjust the angle slightly. And she didn’t notice him stalk toward her like a predator stalking his prey. She didn’t even notice when he stopped right in front of her, his eyes roving over her naked body.

He enjoyed the view for a few more moments before reaching out and ripping the sponge from her hands. He flung it over his shoulder and it hit the wall with a loud “thunk”.

Y/N yelped and opened her eyes, surprise and confusion clear in her face. It was soon replaced by embarrasment when she saw her Daddy standing in front of her wet, naked body. She rushed to cover herself, covering her saddlebag-sized breasts with one arm and reaching down to her pussy with her other hand. All that did was make her tits look even bigger as they were squeezed together and Cordell couldn’t help but stare at them.

“Daddy? What are you doing here?” she asked sweetly.

Cordell’s eyes traveled back up to her face and he smirked. “Daddy’s hungry, babygirl....”

“Oh! You want me to make you breakfast? Sure thing!” She turned around, releasing her breasts to turn off the shower water. “I just need to get dried off.”

Cordell shook his head, even though she wasn’t looking to see it. “Not what I meant, sweetheart.”

Y/N was so confused she forgot to cover herself when she turned around, leaving herself bared once more to her Daddy. “What did you mean then? If you’re hungry, I should make you something....”

“There’s something else I want to eat; it’s not in the kitchen,” Cordell explained gently, his eyes roving her body.

“Oh! You want to go out and get something with me? Well, I’ll have to get dressed....” She tried to step out of the shower but her Daddy stood still in front of her, not giving her the chance to move. “Daddy?” she said, her voice tinged with confusion.

“Lean against the wall, Sugar Cube,” he ordered, gently pushing her shoulders back.

Y/N looked even more confused but did as she was told. “Daddy?”

Cordell ignored her and got on his knees. He spread her legs until he could see his prize: her juicy cunt. “There’s a good girl,” he murmured.

Y/N blushed and looked away. She knew it was wrong for her Daddy to be looking at her like that but she didn’t try to close her legs or anything. She gasped a little when his rough fingers brushed against her sensitive flesh but she still didn’t try and stop him. It felt good when he touched her like that. Besides, Daddy was a good man. If we was doing this, it couldn't be bad.... His fingers stroked her pussy folds again and she moaned aloud.

Cordell smirked and brushed his thumb iver her clit a few times, enjoying the sounds it drew from her. He watched her get wetter and wetter under his touch and he knew he couldn't wait any longer.

Without warning, he leaned forward and licked from the bottom of her labia up to her clit. Then he did it again. And again. And again.

Y/N gasped and mewled with each lick. This felt even better. It was strange; she knew this wasn’t normal but...her Daddy wouldn’t do anything bad to her. It must be a good thing..... It certainly felt good.....

Cordell groaned at the taste of his Sugar Cube. “So sweet for me....my Sugar Cube,” he muttered. Then, he dove in and started licking inside of her and rubbing her clit with his thumb.

Y/N screamed then. “Daddy,” she keened. “Feels so good, Daddy.....”

Cordell couldn’t help but smirk to himself. He knew his babygirl would love this.

He ate her out until she came on his face, a long and loud moan leaving her plump lips. Her Daddy had given her the strongest orgasm of her life and she felt weak in the knees as he pulled away. 

When Y/N came, Cordell also came, his seed spilling all over the bathroom floor. While Y/N was still dazed, he used her panties to clean it up and stuff them in the pocket of his pants before putting his cock away. “Thanks for letting me eat you. That was delicious,” he said, a sleazy smile on his face.

Y/N smiled back at her Daddy. “Y-You’re welcome.” She chewed her lip. “Ummmm.... You- You can eat me anytime. I....I liked it.”

“That’s good to hear, Sugar Cube.” He helped her out of the tub. “You better get ready for school now; I’ll drop you off on my way to work.”

“Yes, Daddy. Thank you.”

Cordell waited until Y/N left before he grabbed his phone and stopped the recording. That video was definitely going in his spank bank. He wondered if he could get away with recording it next time......

[casmick-consequences]

So Dean Winchester:

gets flustered when men hit on him at a bar.

calls his bestie “devastatingly handsome”

acts like a suicidal widow after said bestie passes away, and does a full 180 when he returns.

cuffs his jeans

has multiple scenes with “bi lighting”

looked for (and prayed to) his angel every night for a year hoping to find him in a place where hope is pretty much nonexistant

fished his pal’s coat out of the water and kept it with him at all times, in the trunk of his car.

has a crush on Doctor Sexy

has a cowboy fetish

likes wearing pink satiny panties

cuffs his jeans

can’t sit on a chair straight fo the life of him

has a perfect slow-burn love story written for him and his broski, even removing a previous written love-story with another angel just for the sake of the “bromance”

gets a broner when his buddyboo walks out of the bathroom all cleaned up

and you’re still telling me the boy is straight?!

#something ain't adding up chief #idk #it's one thing to give him vague hints of being sexually ambiguous #it's another to explicitly bi-code a character to the point where it just gets ridiculous #like #to me calling him straight sounds more odd than calling him bi #sam NEVER gets any gay encounters like this #If you gave some of Dean's lines abt Cas to Sam it wouldn't make sense #you know why? #cause they're in l[GUNSHOT] #oof nearly dodged that one #it's because dean winchester is b[GRENADE EXPLOSION] #oof where are these coming from? #weird #lol #anyways destiel is c[NUKE] #supernatural #spn #destiel #deancas #dean is bi #bisexual dean #dean winchester #castiel