Slow Hands

sometimes i think abt what if pervy brothers + innocent mc that unintentionally does stuff that turns them on like bending over in front of them or eating a popsicle in a less than sfw way aaaa

nsfw content MDNI

Let’s be real almost anything you do is gonna turn these boys on- They are demons after all~!

Like the first time they saw you eat a popsicles, everyone in the room popped a boner lol

The collective thought that, “It should be my cock in their mouth!” Running through the demons minds.

Thinking of how soft and warm your mouth would feel~

And imagining that bit of popsicle juice running down your chin was his cum~

Watching you lick ‘n suck the popsicle and how your tongue seemed to tease the ‘tip’ before sucking it into your mouth as far as it could go-

Do I even have to mention whenever you bend over, even just a little it has their minds running all over the place~

Thoughts of just how cute you’d look with your ass cheeks flushed red with his handprint, or just watching the fat jiggle when he’s pounding you from behind~

Hell even just watching movies with you is dangerous~

The little gasps of surprise you let out at certain parts, or when a jump scare actually catches you off guard and you bounce in place a bit-

It sends the demons minds all over the place~ ‘what sounds would you make when he’s inside you~? Would your gasps sound as pretty? What about your moans~’

Fuck they all wanna know so bad~

And after your favorite demon (or more then one of them~) has gotten to fuck you and he knows exactly what you look ‘n sound like underneath him it only gets worse~

Now whenever you bend over now he’ll slap your ass just to hear the little yelp you let out~ or even fuck you bent over right there if you’ll let him~

Then again on movies night, they’ll even fight over who you sit next to during movies or if you’re up for it who’s lap you’ll sit on~

i feel so bad because i love this place and i love the people that have stayed with me on here but like hm

・✶ ｡ﾟyou finally let mammon feel all of you for the first time. warnings : f. reader, some possessive talk, mammon goes raw for the first time.

“fuck.” mammon spits quietly as he kneels over you, the base of his fat cock in his hand while he guides the blunt head through your folds.

“ya sure ‘bout this, baby? t-thought about this s-so much—“ he curses softly when he fumbles slightly, the other hand that’s resting on your waist tightening as he tries to line himself up again, a little too eager to sink into your tight cunt and feel all of you.

your lips part to answer him but you only manage a whimper and a nod when the fat head finally pushes into your already flexing walls and mammon groans, gliding past the spots that have your thighs twitching around his waist to force even more of his cock inside of you.

he feels like the rooms spinning, your walls tightening and sucking him in the deeper he goes and he can feel every flex of your muscles against his cock until he’s almost hunched over you, resting his forehead against your shoulder when he finally bottoms out, the hand that was previously on your waist moving to twist in the sheets beside you.

“o-oh fuck, baby. you’re so tight, fuck! ya feel so good.” mammon grunts, the muscles in his back expanding with each of his shakey exhales as he tries to catch his breath above you—a little embarrassed at how close he already feels but how can you blame him when he can feel every twitch and flex of your pussy around him, arousal pooling in his lower stomach as he hisses through his teeth before finally drawing his hips back.

“‘ts g-gonna feel so good fillin’ up this perfect—fuckin’—pussy, all mine.” his voice is low, slightly shakey with anticipation and need as he follows each word with a sharp thrust, cursing under his breath when you babble and grab at him so needily with each smack of his hips against yours, his cock thickening and twitching against the addictive, needy hug of your body—your walls almost desperately trying to pull him back each time he rocks his hips “oh, baby. ‘ll give it to ya—it’s all y-yours too.”

mammon growls wordlessly, leaning over you once again as his hands grab at the pillow next to your head—his other hand digging almost painfully into your waist to help with pulling your hips down to meet each of his heavy thrusts, your body clapping against his as he fucks into you, panting over the skin of your neck before his lips are gliding over the most sensitive parts that have you keening below him.

“‘s it feel good? yeah? shiiiit—ya drive me fuckin’ crazy. ya love—“ he takes a ragged breath, rolling his hips into yours a little sloppily before he groans again “y-ya love how good i make ya feel, don’t ya?” and you whine, grabbing at his broad shoulders to keep yourself some what grounded as his thrusts speed up, and he curses roughly when you leave red marks on his smooth, tanned skin, his pace stuttering when it only makes his cock throb inside you—his lips parted as he pants and growls in your ear, his thrusts loud and clapping.

“goddamn, wanna feel all of ya, baby—ughhhh—“ the silver haired demon babbles, his brows furrowing as he drinks in the sound of your sweet moans and the feeling of your walls around him, memorising every dip of your body. “f-fuckin’ cum for me. holy shit—i gotta feel ya, fuck!”

© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

HighSchool!Cartman x Reader Smut

Basically I have a high school au where Cartman goes to fucking therapy and becomes a slightly better person

He doesn’t support hitler anymore and isn’t racist/homophobic, just a general bitter asshole now. He joins the high school’s boxing team and earns the nickname “The Bull” because of how strong and big he is, and he gets one of those funky nose rings and a tongue piercing (which will come into play later 😳👉👈). He’s still friends with the others but trying to focus a little more on his academics as well so he’s not seen as some kinda dumb jock.

Reader is afab with gender neutral pronouns because I’m kinda half writing this for myself but I want all y’all to read this too 💀

Some ideas of what they look like ^^

OK ON TO THE FIC

—————

You stepped out of the car and onto the icy ground, shutting the door behind you. You waved your mom goodbye and turned to look at the entrance of the school. South Park high, one of the shittiest schools in the country.

Walking up the steps, following the stream of people, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. You were about to turn and look before a gloved hand clapped you harshly on your back and slid down to your waist, hooking you tightly to the side of the person grabbing you. You immediately knew who it was.

“Kenny! Off, off you perv!” You shoved the taller guy off of you, his muffled laughs getting louder as he took his hood off.

“Sorry babes, I just can’t help myself with that pretty little waist of yours.” He purred, looking you in your eyes with those piercing blue points. You scoffed, not fazed one bit.

You had moved here in your freshman year, two years ago, and quickly became acquainted with Kenny and his group of friends, eventually joining them on their outlandish adventures. You were used to Kenny and his perverted nature, although he had become more persistent towards you this year. You supposed you had hit some sort of growth spurt over the summer, but you were all together during the break so you couldn’t understand how he would be able to tell a difference.

The others caught up to you and Kenny, panting and almost slipping on the ice. Stan smacks Kenny on the head.

“Stop creeping on y/n, Kenny.” He scolds him.

Cartman chimes in. “It’s not his fault they got so fucking hot over the summer.” You blush and look up at him, he’s staring directly at you. He has an almost hungry look in his eyes. You turn away.

“Don’t talk about them like that!” Kyle spouts, towering over Cartman.

Kenny laughs, “Kyle, you’re just saying that because you want a turn with their gorilla grip pu-“

“Can we please change the subject?” You interrupt him. They all look at you sheepishly, except for Cartman. He’s still eyeing you hungrily.

“Right. Sorry y/n. We’ve uh, reached class anyway.” Stan apologized for his friends.

You all sat in your respective seats and listened as Mr. Garrison (who according to the group really shouldn’t be teaching anymore) drawled on about nonsense in his personal life.

You caught Cartman staring at you a few times, to which he would resort to playing with his nose ring and looking at the back of Bebe’s head.

He had always been a bit interested in you, but recently you kept catching him looking at you all the time. You wondered if he would make a move at some point. You would definitely accept if he did, you knew that. He had grown more attractive each year you knew him. This year he let his hair grow out, and every time he would box, two locks would fall in front of his face and his hair would get all messy. You loved it.

His reputation as “The Bull” had grown recently when, during a match, he knocked his opponent straight out of the ring. To celebrate his victory, he took his shirt off and flung it into the crowd, spurring a movement of girls to start fangirling over him at every turn. They called themselves “The Bullshitters” which was literally the worst name they could think of. Cartman acted like he hated the attention but you could tell he secretly loved it. They followed him everywhere when he wasn’t under the protection of the friend group.

Anyways, by the time Garrison actually got to the topic you were supposed to talk about that day, the lunch bell rang.

You got your lunch from the lunch lady, the group making their usual remarks about how they missed some guy called Chef. You all sat at a table, you taking your place next to Cartman.

After talking for a while, Cartman laughed at something and placed his hand on your thigh. You froze and looked up at him, but he kept talking with the others and didn’t move his hand. You bounced your leg once to try and get him off, he didn’t budge. He gripped a little tighter and rubbed it with his thumb.

You knew you weren’t able to move his wrist, he was one of the strongest kids in school, so you just accepted your fate and kept eating.

Suddenly you noticed a girl walking over wearing a shirt with Cartman’s face on a Bull’s body on it. You groaned.

“Bullshitter, four o’ clock.” You muttered to the occupants of the table. They all turned to look at the girl approaching. Cartman finally took his hand off your thigh so he could stand up.

“I got this, it’s fine guys.” He waited for the girl to fully approach. He hulked over her like a beast. “What do you want? An autograph? Lock of my hair? What.” He crossed his arms, clearly trying to seem intimidating.

“i want bnnbvjvjbmb” she mumbled softly.

“Speak up.” He held his stance.

“I want to have sex with you.” She said, looking him in the eyes. He kept his cool, although you could tell he wanted to laugh in her face.

“No.”

She teared up and tried to punch him in the stomach, but he caught her fist, twisted her arm behind her back, and pushed her on the ground, leaning over her.

“Stay away from me and my friends, you hear me?” He growled into her ear. He glanced at you through his peripheral, making sure you could see his smirk. Almost as if saying ‘wish this was you.’

He let her up and she ran off crying. He sat down like nothing had happened and started eating again. After a second of everyone staring at him, he said, “What? She attacked me.”

They all shrugged and agreed and continued eating until lunch ended.

——

After school, Cartman got the attention of the group before you all split up.

“You guys wanna stay over at my place tonight? My mom’s out, probably fucking some guy, and the house is free. I have Zombie Destroyers 4~” he said, a lilt in his voice on the last word.

“Sounds good.” Kyle said.

“Yeah fine with me.” Stan.

“Mhmhmhh!” Kenny mumbled through his hood, you all took it as an ‘absolutely!’.

“Yeah, I’ll ask my mom.” You said, texting her. You got a quick response, a yes. “Yeah I’m good, let’s go. I have extra clothes with me already.”

“Sweet.” Cartman said, mostly directed at you.

——

After hours of playing Zombie Destroyers 4, watching badly directed pornos, and gorging yourselves on all the snack cakes and cheesy poofs you could fit in your stomachs, you were exhausted. Everyone except you, Cartman, and Kenny were sleeping. Kenny was still up watching some shitty porno on the living room floor and you were sitting next to Cartman above him on the couch.

Cartman had snaked his arm around your shoulders a long time ago and pulled you close into his chest. You could feel his warmth radiating into your body.

Currently the girl on screen was getting nailed by the guy and moaning like a bitch in heat. Cartman started to breathe heavier, you could feel it on the back of your head. You turned up and looked at him.

“You good?” His stone cold gaze twitched down to meet yours, and you could tell something was up.

“Follow me.” He grunted, yanking you from your seat. You looked back at Kenny, who waved and wiggled his fingers, smirking.

Cartman dragged you all the way up to his room where he threw you onto his bed. He leaned over you and pressed all his body weight into you, knocking all of the air out of your lungs.

“Cartman..?” You wheezed. “What’re you doing..?”

“You have NO idea what you do to me.” He groaned, grinding into you. You whimpered and closed your eyes.

“Please don’t hurt me...” you cried softly. He stopped. He lifted himself off of you and backed away, looking almost scared.

“Hurt you? I- I would never- Jesus Christ y/n what makes you think I would ever hurt you?!” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Because you’re so big... and like...” you mumbled. You saw the thought run through his head but he didn’t dare say it. “You almost broke that girl’s arm earlier..” You crossed your arms over your chest.

He paced the short length of his room. “Yeah, but, I would never do that to you.” He paused. “Y/n, I dragged you up here to rail you.” You clenched your thighs together under his gaze.

“You don’t actually want to do that, do you? I’m not as pretty as those Bullshitters.” You frowned.

“Y/n, it’s literally taking every bit of strength in my body not to hurl myself at you and go fucking haywire right now. I don’t give a shit about those bitches. Please give me your consent or I’m gonna go throw myself into the snow to keep me from going into a frenzy.” He huffed, his voice strained. He wanted you. Bad.

You slowly uncrossed your arms and spread your legs to him. “Ok.” You whispered. As soon as it clicked in his head that you were saying yes he rushed back over to you and gave you the strongest kiss you’ve ever had. He strung his fingers through your hair to pull you impossibly closer.

“Fuck, y/n, I’ve needed this for so long...” he groaned into your open mouth before resuming his barrage of rough kisses. He moved down to your neck and sucked deep hickeys into your skin, not caring how visible they were.

He quickly lifted your shirt over your head and gave you a sharp toothed smirk once he saw you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Doing my job for me, huh?” He purred.

“I was just trying to be comfy...” you shied away from him, covering your chest. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head on the bed and snarled in your ear.

“No way, cupcake. If you want out, you gotta say... hmm...” he thought for a second. Then he smiled. “Kenny fucking sucks.” You frowned.

“Whyyy?” You whined. “I don’t wanna say that about him.”

“If you want me to stop, that’s what you’ll have to say.” Then he pinched your nipple, spending a bolt of pleasure down your spine. You squeaked and gave him the stink eye. He grinned.

He made his way down to your navel, giving your s/c skin sloppy wet kisses the entire time. He pulled down your pajama pants and underwear at the same time, not being patient at all.

He lifted your legs over his shoulders and sneered up at you. “You ready?” You looked confused.

He stretched his tongue out to its full extent, showing off the little black piercing on the tip, glinting in the light of the moon shining through his window.

You shivered. You had always heard rumors from his hookups about how that piercing enhanced the feeling while he was eating girls out. You often imagined what it felt like, and now you were about to experience it for yourself.

He stretched your folds open and licked a stripe up the middle, hitting your clit with the piece of metal affixed to his tongue. You jumped at the sensation between your legs.

Then, he held you down by your hips and ate you out like you were his favorite fucking meal. Your body shuddered as you tried to keep your scream inside. He shoved a finger inside you and started to curl it towards him, making it harder for you to be quiet.

He maneuvered that little piece of metal around your clit like it was an 11th finger, at the same time pressing into your g-spot with his middle finger as hard as he could.

You arched your back, whimpering and screwing your eyes shut. It felt like heaven, what he was doing to you, yet you knew this act would be looked down upon there.

You grabbed a chunk of his hair and pushed his face in farther, moaning as he went faster. He dug his free hand deep into your hip, anchoring you to the bed so you couldn’t squirm away. You were gonna end up with some crescent-shaped bruises there in the morning.

He entered another finger and you knew you were reaching your end. You groaned and threw your head back.

“M’ close-“ you grunted, clenching your teeth together. He abused your clit, making it sore and sensitive.

The then somehow hit just the right spot, making you writhe underneath him and put both of your hands on his head as he finished you off.

He kept going through your orgasm, and as you tried to pull away he held you to his face. Your eyes rolled into your head and you saw stars. You finally collapsed into his bed. You couldn’t take any more.

“Kenny fucki- ng sucks-!” You choked out, tears from overstimulation streaking down your face. He pulled away immediately.

“Good job, using the safe phrase. You alright?” He asked, petting your head. You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to calm down. You felt like you couldn’t move and yet everything inside you was going insane at the same time.

“Cartman, I knew you had a good tongue but I didn’t know you were THAT good! Who knew you cared so much about your partner’s pleasure?” You said, astonished. He scowled at you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just kind of have a reputation for being a selfish asshole...?”

He huffed. “I’ll show you selfish.” He stomped over to his bedroom drawer and rummaged around for something.

After finding it, he came back and sat down on the bed. You heard a belt unbuckle and his zipper unzip, and his pants fell to the floor. You lifted yourself on your elbows to see what he was doing.

He had his cock out and was putting a condom on it. It wasn’t that long, maybe around 5.3 inches or so, but it sure was thick. He was gonna fill you up and you didn’t know whether to be scared or excited.

He stood before you and lifted your legs again. He glared sternly down at you.

“Are you ready?” He asked, tapping the inside of your thigh.

“Not really but I doubt you’re gonna let that stop you.” You laid back down, preparing yourself as best you could.

“Damn fucking right.” He rammed himself inside you to punctuate his sentence, making you let out a choked moan. He was just slightly too big for you, stretching you out a little farther than you were used to.

He leaned over you so that his body pressed into you once more but allowing for you to breathe a little better than the first time. You could feel his breaths on your lips as you looked into his eyes. Something felt different this time. More… intimate. You looked down at his lips, back up at his eyes, down at his lips again, and leaned up and closed the gap between you two.

It was a sweet, gentle kiss that you held for a few seconds before he broke it and dropped to your ear. His breaths grew heavy and you could feel his length twitch inside you.

Right. He was still inside you.

He put his lips up close to your ear.

“You are my. fucking. cocksleeve.”

You whimpered, and at that, he fucked into you once more, earning a louder whimper. Again. A louder sound. Again, harder. Again, louder. Cause and effect. He picked up a steady pace, digging his face into your neck and his hands into your hips.

He got harder with every thrust, and it got easier to take his girth, but more difficult to be quiet. You slapped a hand over your mouth to which he immediately grabbed and pinned down by the wrist.

“No. Let them hear. You’re mine now. Let the whole fucking world know, I don’t care. Just make those beautiful fucking noises.” He groaned into your neck, lifting your hips with his remaining hand so he could angle his dick deeper.

“Oh, fuck it!” You exclaimed, finally wrapping your legs around his waist to get as close to him as possible. “Cartman~” you moaned, grabbing on to his hair with your free hand.

His pace slowed and he growled. “Say my name.” You whined from the lack of friction.

“Cartman.” You said again. He groaned.

“No dumbass, my other name.”

You were confused. “The Bull?”

“Eric! My name is fucking Eric!” He snarled, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head, fucking into you at a manic pace.

You shrieked, your fingers opening and closing, grabbing at nothing. “Eric! Fuck, Eric! Oh fffffuck~” your moans grew louder. Tears started to stream down your face, you were so fucking overstimulated. You were so close, and he was not. Your eyes were cloudy and you couldn’t see anything, but you could tell he leaned closer again. He started to kiss the tears off your cheeks, all while railing you like an animal. It felt so… good.

“Ngh, Eric…” You moaned, clenching your fists. You could feel the knot building up in your stomach. “M’so close- FUCKNH~” you screwed your eyes shut and the tie broke. He fucked you through it, keeping his pace up. His cock stretched your walls deliciously, even as your orgasm threatened to push him out. He shifted a hand back down to your hip and gripped it tightly, holding you in place.

You were so fucking blissed out at this point. Stars danced in your vision, distracting you while Eric used you as his personal fleshlight. He pulled out at one point, flipping you over and pulling you to the edge of the bed.

When he reentered, it brought you back to consciousness a little bit. You turned your head enough so you could see his face, and he made eye contact with you. “M’tired..” you whined, clutching at the bedsheets. He continued to fuck you, but the look he gave you was a gentle one.

“I know. Almost done.” His voice sounded a bit strained, so you believed him. Your thighs were wet with your own arousal, the sounds of skin on skin filled the room for the longest time.

It suddenly felt like he had some kind of energy boost, and he rammed into you as hard as he possibly could. It felt like he was in your stomach, and it was delectable.

He grabbed your shoulders and slammed you onto his cock over and over, making you release guttural moans that were sure to be heard by the others downstairs.

You came once more, electricity shooting across every nerve in your body. Every sense was alight. Your skin felt so cold but so hot at the same time.

His grip on your shoulders loosened.

He leaned over you one last time, encapsulating you in his arms as if he was protecting you. He gave a few more hard thrusts. “Fucking. Mine.” And he stilled. His hot breath felt heavy on the nape of your neck. He didn’t move.

“Yours.” You whispered.

That finally caused him to stir, kissing your neck, down to your back, before unwrapping you from his arms and pulling out. You heard him dispose of the condom before returning and flipping you over. You sat up slightly so you could see him.

He looked so… ethereal. His hair framed his face, two locks coming down in the middle just like you liked it. You guessed you looked worse, and rubbed your eyes with a sore wrist. You laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. You were so blissed out you could barely think.

“Fucked ya stupid, didn’t I?”

You didn’t answer.

He sighed and stepped over to get something, before pressing the cloth of your panties to the base of your legs. He helped you into them before sitting you up.

“Arms up.” You complied, lifting your arms over your head. A shirt three times your size was placed onto your figure, and your foggy brain managed to compute that it was his shirt.

He put on his own clothes and tried to help you stand. Your knees wobbled like crazy, but eventually he got you to walk with his aid.

You went back downstairs to, no surprise, Stan, Kyle, and Kenny all awake and staring at you two. Kyle’s mouth was agape as his eyes searched your sex-riddled figure, while Kenny just smirked at Eric. Stan glared at you both.

“Jesus Christ, Cartman, what did you do to them? You guys look terrible.” Stan huffed, punching his pillow a few times and slamming his head back down into it. “We’re having a talk in the morning.” He grumbled.

Kyle just laid back down, unable to take the sight of you like that when it wasn’t done by him. Cartman led you over to the couch, stepping over his body.

“Can I have a turn with them next, Cartman?” Kenny gave you a cheeky grin as you laid on Eric’s muscular but cushioned chest.

“No.” His voice rumbled throughout your body. “They’re mine now. Isn’t that right?” He asked you, rubbing your back. You hummed and nodded your head, too tired to form words.

“Worth a shot.” Kenny shrugged and went to sleep.

“You do want to keep doing that, right?” Eric whispered to you. You nodded again and snuggled deeper into his chest.

“Mine.” You mumbled. He hummed.

“That’s right. Yours.” He petted your hair gently.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Stan called.

“Shut up asshole, I’m tryna have a moment here!”

“Fuck you, fatass!”

“Fuck you!”

Eric turned over and enveloped you completely into him. You felt so tired, and finally succumbed to the exhaustion.

This was the best sleepover ever.

casual horniness because it's halloween n i love werewolves ☁️

imagine ur werewolf bf being the runt of his litter. he's shorter, more submissive, not terribly strong, more like a cute puppy than a fierce wolf, n dying to just be in charge for once! you, his beloved mate, are all he's ever wanted! you're so sweet n so soft compared to his skinny roughness.

imagine it finally being a full moon n him going completely feral for your ample hips n waist. he's gripping everything he sees while eating you out, long tongue drooling all over your cute cunt while you scream out in ecstasy <3, he's not gonna stop eating till you've cum at least three times from his tongue alone :)))

once you've cum enough he's pushing you back onto the bed with a deep growl, almost daring you to challenge him n pressing his heavy, dripping cock to your soaked pussy. he's so slow abt giving you what u need too!! what a bug meanie :(((((

ofc he could never leave his mate hanging! a few gentle thrusts against your hole n he slid in with easy, letting out such cute lil awoos from how wonderful you feel around him :))))

imagine him going so feral that his mind goes blank n he starts using u like a living pocket pussy :))), he's got his arms around you, watery eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth wide open for him to drool n tell u how good you are, how tight ur pussy is, n how much he loves u <3333

imagine his thrusting only getting rougher as he begs u to keep scratching his ears n petting his back, the thick knot at the base of his cock swelling n ready to tie you both together,,,ofc he's gonna cum inside! cumming anywhere else would be blasphemy!

his hug gets even tighter as he holds u still in order to knot your tight hole <3 n once he squeezes in???? sweet boy is throwing his head back for a big awoo with his tail wagging rapidly behind him.

once down from his high, he's kissing ur neck n apologizing like the good wolfie boy he is, all while shyly asking if he can fuck you like that again once his knot goes down <3

happy halloween, babies! get that free candy n stay safe <3☁️

totally wasn't thinking about gorou n tighnari from genshin impact when i wrote this tho- definitely wouldn't let them both blow my back completely out <3

she’s mine ; george x reader

(L-R) John Lennon, George Harrison, Pete Best, Paul McCartney and Stuart Sutcliffe at the Indra Club, Hamburg, 17 August 1960

request: 25. w/ George? 25- “You so much as touch a single hair on her/his head, I will tear your spine clear out of your body.” a/n: why do i always have the same plot???? like ur friends with a beatle and surprise, they like you lol pairing: george x reader summary: you visit george, your friend, in Germany and his bandmate, Stuart flirts with you. george doesn’t like that and he reveals something warnings: swearing year: 1960 word count: 785

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Purple led lights

Summary: What was supposed to be a sweet date night wound up as a situation of lewd feelings and voyeurism. Dear Donnie, you fucked up big time.

Set on 2k14/16 verse

Donnie's 24 y/o

Fem!Reader

Warnings and story under the line. Only click on keep reading if you're 18+~♥

Warnings: NSFW / SMUT / voyeurism / dildo use / exhibitionism if you squint

-------------------------

There is a strange fixation on doing something without being noticed. At least, that was what Donnie used to think. Now, that principal threatened everything he worked for in his relationship with you.

Donatello could hear your small gasps and how you took a deep breath before releasing it in a soft moan. He is suddenly hyper-aware of the light surrounding the scene: led purple, illuminating your naked body. His pupils dilated, absorbing as much of the image as he could.

How did this come to be? He went to your house to surprise you with a full terabyte of new movies he knew you’d like. He planned a romantic night, it was his wish to make a good impression to try escalating things into something he had been wishing to do for so long: press his lips into yours and find out if they were as soft as they looked.

Little he knew his plans would be upset when you weren't home. He had texted you, but you didn’t answer either. Next thing he knew, Don was wandering your apartment, driven by that curiosity that new lovers have to know more of one another. Soon, he found himself in your room, your scent filling his lungs, blurring for a minute his common sense as he opened your closet. Donatello grabbed your clothes and sniffed into them, allowing the intoxicating aroma to fill him.

Just at that very moment, he heard your voice humming something outside of the room where he was invading your privacy. Panic shot through his body, sending his anxiety levels to the sky. The only thing he could think about was hiding. Well, not that there was time to do more than that, anyway. When you opened the door to your room, he had finished closing the closet door, locking himself inside.

True. He put himself in this awkward, arousing, and incredibly wrong situation.

You had turned on your led lights and set them on purple. Your hands caressed the buttons of your shirt, expertly unbuttoning them so the cloth could fall out of your body, and you went on removing every other garment on you until only remained a small turtle necklace.

His first thought, –aside from guilt– was that you were utterly ravishing, breathtaking, stunning. The way your nipples hardened to the feeling of cold, made him weak. You pulled out a device from your drawer. Donnie quickly recognized it as a dildo.

He felt a hot weave hit his cheeks. Donnie suddenly felt the need to fidget so to release the uneasiness he was feeling. He resolved to play with his fingers would be okay, since there was no space to do more.

You took a seat on the edge of the bed, holding up the seemingly plastic dildo. You licked a stripe on it. His hand flew to his mouth when he heard himself gasping, and for a moment there, Donnie thought you’d hear him, so he waited, closing his eyes, squeezing them, and holding his breath hoping not to get caught.

A few seconds passed before he heard a vibration sound, followed by a small whimper. Donnie took a deep breath and made himself look through the slot in the closet door again.

You were laying on the bed, butt naked, caressing your neck with the small device, sliding it down to your chest, your face twisting into a delicious frown that talked about how nice it felt to have it navigating your sink.

Donatello sighed, wishing to replace it with his hand. The desire grew stronger when you drove it close to your hard nipple and pressed over it. A loud moan escaped your lips. Electricity ran through his spine.

Donnie's heart was beating so fast he was surprised you hadn’t heard him. It beat faster when driving the toy lower. The vibration filled the room, along with your small whimpers.

By that very moment, his crotch was already killing him. It was painful to feel the pressure of his dick in his pants. It felt weird to have such a low instinct awakened by an action that was completely fucked up, but for some reason, that thought made it even more arousing.

Was he a bad person? Surely. Disgusting? undoubtedly. But everything had happened so fast, and Donnie could swear he did not come into your place with bad intentions, he just wanted–

“Donnie,”

He froze, eyes widening in disbelief. Did you moan his name? He surely must have misheard, yes, that was–

“Like that, right there…” You closed your eyes, moaning softly, pushing the toy inside you. Now the vibrations sounded different, and so did his name when you cried it out one more time: so desperate, so inviting that Donnie almost threw his self-control off the window and came out of the closet.

Almost.

Instead, his hand moved to his crotch, stroking it lightly as he bit his lower lip so as not to moan. His breathing became heavier, despite his attempts to keep it down. Donnie's eyes narrowed when fisted his cock, pre-cum already sliding down the tip. He used the liquids to lube his shaft, making small movements that were intensifying with every passing second, with every moan leaving your mouth.

“Donnie… more,” you whimpered as you took one finger inside your mouth and sucked on it. “Fuck me.”

Your voice started to echo throughout the room. “Fuck me deeper,”

He increased his pace. Wet noises filled the small closet. He grasped one of your clothes to drive it close to his nose. Gosh, the sounds his dick made embarrassed him endlessly as a pleasant, familiar feeling coaxed in his lower belly.

“Make me come…” you moaned “Donnie please… please,”

He saw you elevating your hips, your head falling back as you came long and loud. Donnie bit his tongue while waves of pleasure spread through his body, roaming it as he came all over your closet door.

The delight was so intense he couldn’t help to lose his balance, and in a desperate attempt to stop himself from falling, his hand flew to the front, seeking support in the door, but small closet doors were not made to hold up a mutant’s weight.

Before he could do anything, the door swung open, and Donnie stumbled out of his hiding spot, dick still in his fist.

“What the fuck?!!” you screamed, contracting your legs toward your chest in an attempt to cover yourself up.

All traces of arousing left his body at once. The only thing he could focus on was your shocked expression, gaze stuck in his cock, realizing what he was doing. Donatello wanted the floor to open up and swallow him right then and there.

Instantly, he knew it: he had entirely fucked up everything.

GNreader, humiliation, aphrodisiac;;

it's just a small blurb yet I can't stop thinking about jealous Barbatos who don't really like how much time you spend with his Master, so in one of your usual tea parties he put something interesting in your cup and then just keep standing near Diavolo's chair with the most calm and relaxed face, watching as after some time you start panting more and more, blush creeping to your cheeks slowly as it starts to be hard to focus your gaze on something.

Oh, of course, as a good servant he would immediately take your hand, supporting you and helping to get some fresh air. Or at least that's what be said to Lord, before leading you in his room.

..needless to say there wouldn't be any gentle foreplay or even possessive sex, as he sat on his bed and just enjoyed your sobs and whines, while you sat in front of him on the floor, begging to do something. Well, of course our generous Barbatos would lend a helping hand for you. Or should I say a helping leg?

It's so humiliating to hump his foot like that, yet you better experience some mockery from this cunning demon than trying to fight this unbearable heat between your thighs. Your whole body leaning to his leg, as you almost press your whole weight to it, bouncing and gyrating your hips for more friction. But for Barbatos it's the most beautiful view to see, as he absolutely adores your red from shame face, and the way you grasp on his knee so desperately…

Fine, he will help you relieve this aching arouse, but only with the tip of his shoes.. And only after you promise to never get too close to the young Master again. There's much more interesting things in this castle to explore besides his stupid little talks, you know? Barbatos is sure you will find some quality time all alone with him much more …pleasurable.

love's no problem in my hands

includes: barbatos x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: 1.5k | rated g | m.list | cross-posted on ao3

a/n: just had to get this out quick i swear im on hiatus lololol. for @messysketchyobeyme as part of the @omsecretsanta2022 event. i hope you enjoy!!

please reblog <33

Now, he keeps his feelings close to his chest, aware that he’s not the only one who holds them for you. That knowledge should be souring, should bring him to his senses, but it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because of you, because of how you make time for him, make him feel like the only demon in the world when you look at him, make him believe, if only for a second, that impossibilities are possible. Okay, yeah, it’s definitely because of you.

So he holds his feelings, keeps them to himself, and it’s okay. He’s not prone to jealousy, or possessiveness, has learned over the many, many years to be satisfied with what he has, and what he has is more than enough. He has Diavolo and a place in a wonderful community filled with wonderful people, and your friendship, which is more than he could’ve dreamed of.

Barbatos doesn’t know how it started. 

Well, alright, he knows when he first noticed it. But he has a feeling the feelings had been there, building, culminating, for a lot longer than that. 

He first noticed his affection for you on a spring day, one of the warmest the year had seen so far. You’d shed your uniform jacket, rolled up the sleeves, and gone outside during lunch, claiming the quad as your own. Claiming the attention of everyone on the quad. And like moths to a flame, everyone had followed, as they always did. Him included. 

“It feels so nice out,” you’d chirped, face turned up to the non-existent sun, and Barbatos had become aware of a buzz under his skin, a curious warmth that he’d never really felt before. It didn’t take a genius for him to place the feelings, and he accepted them a lot easier than he thought he would, with them clicking into place like the last piece of a previously hidden puzzle. He finally understood what everyone was talking about, finally understood why people were pushed to invent, to create, to conquer in the name of love.

Of course, while he was going through all of these realizations and acceptions, time had moved forward, and you were now surrounded by everyone, with him on the outside, like always, slightly distanced, the few feet like an uncrossable gorge. But you, you with your crooked half-smile and wonderful gleam in your eyes, had looked through, to him, smile somehow widening just for him, and that had made it all okay, made that gorge seem like nothing more than the few feet it actually was.

Now, he keeps his feelings close to his chest, aware that he’s not the only one who holds them for you. That knowledge should be souring, should bring him to his senses, but it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because of you, because of how you make time for him, make him feel like the only demon in the world when you look at him, make him believe, if only for a second, that impossibilities are possible. Okay, yeah, it’s definitely because of you.

So he holds his feelings, keeps them to himself, and it’s okay. He’s not prone to jealousy, or possessiveness, has learned over the many, many years to be satisfied with what he has, and what he has is more than enough. He has Diavolo and a place in a wonderful community filled with wonderful people, and your friendship, which is more than he could’ve dreamed of.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” you tease, poking him lightly with the blunt end of your pencil. He blinks, coming back to himself, coming back to the club meeting, and gives you a half smile. The club was one you both co-ran, some ‘community wellness’ thing that you were a lot more passionate about than he. But he put his everything in it, for you.

“I apologize, I must have been distracted. Remind me of our discussion,” 

“Barbatos? Distracted?” Your face is bright, cheerful. “Who are you and what have you done with the real Barbatos?” 

“Funny, really,” he returns, and the laugh he is gifted with is quickly saved, pressed into the scrapbook of his memories, to be taken out and admired every now and again, treasured close to his chest. 

“Anyway…” you pull him back into the meeting with vigor, with enthusiasm, as with everything you do, and he lets himself be pulled willingly. What a fool he must be, to take the chains from your hand and wrap them around his wrist himself.

Once the meeting is over you check your D.D.D., cursing. He directs an inquisitive look at you, and you grin guiltily. The school is dark, and mostly empty, and it feels like the two of you are the only ones in the world.

“It’s a lot later than I thought it was,” you explain. “Is there any way I can beg a ride off of you? I’d be really thankful.” 

“I suppose,” Barbatos replies, making a show of being long-suffering. You draw out his humor in a way no one else does, and he’s grateful, so immensely grateful, that you see his dry, deadpan remarks for what they are and don’t just think he’s dreadfully boring. 

“Thank you so much!” You squeeze his side in a hug, apparently not feeling the staggering static that emanates from where the two of you touch, that sends shivers of electricity up and down his entire frame. “I owe you one.” 

“You always say that,” he accuses lightly. “At this point, I believe you owe me a lot more than that.” 

“Probably.” You shrug, unrepentant. He really shouldn’t find that shamelessness so charming. 

Being in a car with you is like torture. Torture he can stand, revels in, delights in. 

You’re close, within touching range. Not that he’d ever put his hands on you without your express and explicit permission, but the forced intimacy gets to him. You’re so comfortable in his car, shown by the way you commandeer the radio, the way you dig through his glovebox like it was yours for the taking. 

(Everything of his is yours for the taking, for the having, for the keeping.) 

“What’s this?” you ask, more to yourself than anything, but he looks over anyway. You’ve got a CD in your grip, reading the back. 

“That,” he says, “is my favorite CD. So be careful with it, please.”

“It’s your favorite?” 

He nods, and you give him that crooked smile, ejecting the CD that was in the player, exchanging it out. 

“We don’t have to listen to it,” he tries, and you wave him off. 

“Of course we do! It’s your favorite, and I want to hear it too!” 

 You pull pieces of him to the surface, almost by accident, and he stands there in front of you, exposed. But you’re always careful with the new parts of him that are revealed, treating them as preciously and as kindly as you’d treat an invaluable glass sculpture.

The first track starts and he keeps his gaze on the road, humming along. He can feel your eyes on him, and eventually, eventually gives into the urge to look over, meeting your eyes. 

“I can see why you like it,” you murmur, quiet for once. “It’s very…” you hold the words in your mouth, tasting them, savoring them. “It’s very you.” 

“Thanks, I think.”

“You’re quite welcome.” 

It’s quiet in the car, aside from the CD, of course, but he doesn’t mind the silence. Never has. Others feel it as a pressure, but he doesn’t, and knows, despite your propensity to talk and laugh and be in constant motion, don’t either. It’s a comfort, to be in silence with you. 

The drive to the House of Lamentation takes forever. Isn’t nearly long enough.

When he pulls into the circle drive, past the immaculately pruned bushes and other ostentatious landscaping, he resists the urge to go slower, to coast at a snail’s pace. He’s better than that. Barely. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you say as he pulls to a stop, lowering the volume of the music. “I really appreciate it.” 

“Of course,” he says. “You know me. Barbatos: butler, glorified babysitter, and part-time chauffeur.” 

He’s rewarded again with your laugh, but it fades into something thoughtful, something intimate.

“You’re so much more than that,” you say, and when he looks over at you in muted surprise, you’re not returning his gaze, instead focused somewhere in the far-off distance, maybe in the far-off past. Either way, you blink and come out of it quickly, but don’t take your words back. Instead, you do something, that even with all of his overthinking, his planning, his habit of examining every possibility, he’d never seen coming: 

You lean over and kiss him on the cheek.

Your lips are warm, and dry, and un-lingering. He stares at you in shock as you pull away, heart pounding a mile a minute. 

“Well,” you say with another laugh, much more high-pitched and nervous than the others he’d heard from you, “thanks again. I’ll be going in now.” 

You slide out of his car quickly, crossing the distance between it and the door in seconds. He almost thinks you’re not going to look back, until you do, that damned crooked smile on your lips, fluttering your fingers in a wave, even as embarrassment and joy war in your eyes. 

It takes a long time, too long, for him to pull himself together enough to pull away from the House of Lamentation, and he has to take the most convoluted way home he can think of to fully rid himself of his blush– a herculean task, considering that kiss plays on repeat in his head, the memory of your smile almost tangible. Who would have thought a simple kiss on the cheek would have been enough to bring the always-composed, always-distant Barbatos back down to the realm of unstoppable, human emotion?

Maybe you returning his feelings isn’t as far-fetched a possibility as he’d thought. 

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

walk me home (tmnt x gender neutral!reader)

haven’t written for the guys in a while and i’m a sucker for hurt/comfort, so here’s the result!

also, this one’s a little hard to tag because you can honestly interpret it however you wish - purely platonic, implications of romance with your favorite turtle, poly!turtles, whatever. enjoy!

You’re kidnapped by the Foot Clan on a sunny Saturday afternoon. 

Snatched off the street, stuffed in an unmarked van and blindfolded, you quickly lose track of where they’re taking you, and your only attempt to glean some information is swiftly discouraged by a fist to your jaw. 

You lose track of time from there, the only information available to you restricted to what you can hear, smell, and feel: the astringent scent of chemicals, the voices of your captors barking orders at each other, the cold concrete of the holding cell you’re tossed into and the scratch of the rope binding your wrists.

Your jaw hurts, the chill of your makeshift cell sinks into your bones and leaves you shivering, but you’re not afraid. Not really. You know the boys will come for you. 

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