#The Ghoul in Pajamas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

covetyou · 11 days ago

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howl-o-ween

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: sex toys (a cock sleeve like this one), unprotected P in V, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), squirting, creampie, Joel in a dress, reader likes Joel in a dress, teeth as a euphemism for balls, talk of knots but this is not a/b/o, fluff. word count: 6k summary: The light beckons you over like a moth to a flame, and your weary bones follow, taking you across three lawns and up the steps, straight into the arms of Joel Miller.

A/N: a few months ago @missredherring said "how do you feel about those werewolf dildos?" and changed the entire tragectory of this fic. thank you, I love you 💛 this one's for you bb, and that beaut of an oracle card you pulled, position and all.

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The porch light is on when you get home and pull into your empty driveway. It was like a beacon - drawing your eye where it so often drew all of you; across three lawns and straight up the steps to Joel's front door.

Though, this time, it's not lit for you. It's not there to guide you through the darkness and into his waiting arms. And, though you'd never admit it, you feel oddly territorial about it - jealous. That's your light. Except, for today, it's not.

Today, it's illuminated for the swathes of little ghouls and beasties that have been stomping the streets in search for treats, swarming like a plague of locusts on each household until candy buckets were empty and one by one, the lights shut off.

But not Joel's.

You try to push it to the back of your mind as you fumble with your keys in the darkness of your own front porch, and stash yourself away inside to wearily climb the stairs to wash the day away. The shower you take is hot, yet the heat does nothing to stop you thinking of him, wondering whether that light was just a forgotten detail of the day or a beckoning call to the only person who would really understand it.

Even when you step out from the stream of water and stretch, pushing deep into one hip and another, all you can think about his him and how much better he could make all of this. The pains he could soothe, the emptiness he could fill, the ache between your legs he could make so much, much worse.

That's how you end up standing at your front window, face pressed to the glass, staring at the light that's still taunting you, wondering if maybe it is on for you after all.

It's also how you end up halfway down your driveway before you even think to call or text him.

And, as you step onto his porch in mismatched pajamas, unlaced shoes, and a flannel shirt that wasn't your own, you think you're somehow the most strange and yet most normal thing to have climbed up here tonight. There's no witches hat or vampire teeth. No empty bucket in your hand or silly t-shirt.

No, it was just you - tired eyes and all, hoping that the light that had been a signal to them was now a signal to you, and that he'd be happy to see you.

There's a shuffling stomp behind the door after you knock. Then, it's swinging inward so suddenly you jump back as something distinctly Joel-sized growls from behind a black net, only to stop with a surprised cough when you stare at it with wide eyes. One large hand tugs the net down and tosses it to the side, and the toothy grin of a dark eyed wolf greets you in the doorway.

It's undoubtedly Joel. You'd know those shoulders anywhere, even if they are beneath the prettiest pink dress you've ever seen. You look him up and down, eyes darting from the bonnet on his head, the stifling plastic mask strapped to his face, before pulling down his chest, following pink all the way down until pink turns into the gray of well worn sweatpants.

With a huff, he tugs at the mask, yanking it from his head to reveal ruffled hair, rosy cheeks, and a bashful look in his eye that says he's almost embarrassed to see you.

"Thought you were a trick-or-treater," he says, with a nervous rub to his neck.

"And I thought you were my Grandma."

"Very funny," he says, rolling his eyes and pulling you in toward him, closing the door the second you're in over the threshold. "Been waitin' for you."

If that wasn't the confirmation you needed, it is when he snaps the porch light off and leans down to kiss you against the wall, pinning you there with one broad hand to your waist while the other latches and locks the door.

"Joel, what about Sarah," you say after a moment, turning your head from the heat of his kiss.

"Little Red ain't here. Last minute change of plans. Her mom came to pick her up for some party her neighbor was throwin' for the kids. Been on solo door duty all evenin', killin' time waitin' for you."

You kiss him then, tugging at the curls at the back of his neck while his hands roam under the flannel shirt you'd stolen from him some weeks ago, feeling up and down the curve of your spine as you arch into him. Where you had felt so exhausted moments ago, you now feel energized, ready to leap at him and let him do as he pleased with you, even if it was right here against the door.

"So..." you mumble into his mouth, through soft kisses neither of you seem to be able to resist pressing to each others mouths. "You've been by yourself... for four hours... in a dress?"

Joel stops kissing you the moment he feels your lips twist upward into a smile.

"What if I have? Problem with that?" he says, with a quirk to his eyebrow as he stares down at you, still pinned to the wall.

Briefly, you consider if you really do have a problem with it. Mostly because you realize, as you look at him and the dress wrapped around him, that you really, very much, do not have a problem with it at all. Even in swathes of pink and frills, he's beautiful, and you can't stop thinking about the shape of him hidden beneath the loose drape of fabric.

"No," you say with a shrug, trying to keep the heat out of your cheeks. "You look great. Pink suits you, Grandma Joel."

A growl makes it's way up Joel's throat and he nips at your lips, tilting your head back with one strong hand and grabbing your wrist as your fingers plays idly with the fabric of his dress with the other.

"Do not call me Grandma," he says, pulling your hand down to the front of his skirt. "Feel like a Grandma to you, darlin'?"

"I can't say I've ever felt a Grandma before but - Oh, my," you say with a smirk, catching Joel's eyebrow raised in warning. You grind your palm gently against him, wiggling your fingers down and down, cupping the heft of his balls, feeling as the blood that was reddening his cheeks pumps to his cock, thickening it beneath your hand. "What big... teeth you have. Very big teeth."

"You sure about that?"

You nod into the cradle of his hand, his fingers scratching gently at your scalp as you tease and taunt him. "Uh-huh. Biggest teeth. Best teeth. My favorite teeth, actually."

"Never had any teeth you like better, huh?" he says, holding back a laugh.

"Never," you say, grinning back. "Question is, are they still your own teeth, Grandma?"

He growls again then, spinning you from the wall and scraping his teeth against your neck. He moves you back - further from the door and further into his home, guided only by the flickering light of the TV. He sucks the blood to the surface on your neck, bruising you while you sigh and turn to putty into his arms and then, with a sharp pinch to your ass and a swift smack that sends the muscle jiggling, he's pulling back and pushing you toward the stairs.

"Get your ass upstairs. I'll give you fuckin' Grandma."

You practically squeal in delight, cackling as you kick off your shoes and make a run for the stairs, legs quaking as you try to take them two at a time, give up half way and scramble up the rest of the way with your hands.

At the top, you turn to look at the smirking figure of Joel.

"Are you gonna come eat me, Grandma Joel?"

You can hear as he cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders, clicking his tongue against his teeth. You can barely hold in your giggles as he tries to look menacing in that pink dress, slowly ascending the stairs and staring daggers into you.

"You're lucky you're so damn cute, or there'd no fuckin' chance I'd be getting hard enough to give you what you're actin' out for," he grumbles, having to lift the skirt above his knees to stop himself from tripping.

"Is Were-Joel better?" you say through a laugh, taking a step back as he finally towers above you again when he reaches the top of the stairs and drags you toward his room.

Pulling you inside, he claims your mouth with a bruising kiss, cradling your head in his two massive hands while his tongue licks into your mouth.

"Were-Joel is stupid, but yeah," he mumbles into you, "Were-Joel is better."

Together, you make quick work of your own clothes. The flannel is the first thing to go, tossed straight onto Joel's laundry hamper for him to deal with. You'd steal another soon anyway. Your pajamas follow - t-shirt dumped on the floor and shorts pulled low enough for you to wiggle them the rest of the way down and kick them off the end of your feet. You moan the moment Joel's warm, rough hands connect with your bare skin, grabbing every part of you he can reach. He gropes your breasts in both massive hands, puckering the flesh with the soft grip of his fingertips, while your hands find his neck and scratch. He groans, stretching into the itch of your nails across his skin.

The front of Joel's dress has started to tent. You can feel it every time he grinds forward, pushing you back until you're forced to hop up onto his bed, legs spread so he can slot between them.You hold yourself to him, scratching through the pink fabric while his soft bulge stiffens with each roll of his hips into your clothed core.

Then, when he goes to yank the dress over his head, you stop him, gripping tight to his hands and sheepishly shaking your head.

"Leave the dress on? Just for a little bit."

Your face is hot as you say it, and Joel's inquisitive look turns to a laugh, then a smile, crinkling his eyes just before he gently bumps his nose into yours.

"Yeah?" he says. "You really like it, huh?"

You shrug, "Pink's your color."

"Really? S'the color that does it for you."

"Careful."

"Careful?" he taunts, licking his tongue across his teeth and looking you up and down. "Or what?"

He's still between your legs. He's still hard, he's still looking down at you, and he's still between your legs. Taking a deep breath, you try not to let the heat of him distract you, or the way he looks at your near naked body as you straighten your shoulders and look him straight in the eye. "Or I'll... huff and I'll puff and I'll blow you...r house down."

You hear his eyes as they roll in his head, and you have to stifle a laugh with a hard bite of your bottom lip.

"Come on. Ain't even the same fairytale any more, darlin'."

"So?"

"So, as the only wolf around here, and given you ain't got anythin' for me to blow, I best get to eatin'."

You fake gasp and clutch a hand to your chest, giving him a scandalized look as you try to mask the not so subtle way you feel the muscle of his arm flex beneath your other hand.

"No, Gran- Were-Joel, don't eat me. I promise I don't taste good."

"Now that's a damn fuckin' lie," he says just as your world is tipping on it's head, your legs pushed back and toppling you back onto his sheets in fits of laughter. "Best pussy I've ever tasted."

Forcing a deadpan look onto your face, you sit up on your elbows while he tries, and fails to grab hold of your panties. "Oh," you say. "Oh, we're talking about that kind of eating?"

One long, slow blink from Joel later, and you're laughing again, curling in on yourself, while he gives up with your panties and instead pulls down his sweatpants beneath the dress, and kicks them away.

"You're gonna be the death of me, you realize that, right?"

The touch of his lips to your thigh calms your giggles in an instant. Then, when the scruff on his cheek brushes your other thigh, you let your legs fall apart.

"There she is," he murmurs between your legs. "You gonna stop playin' around and let me take care of her now?"

You nod down to him, breath suddenly stolen from you as you look down at Joel, pretty in pink.

"Good."

With that, he presses a kiss to your clothed mound, taking a deep breath and mumbling something you think sounds like "so fuckin' good", before working fingers under the waistband and pulling them off your legs, leaving you totally nude.

"So fuckin' beautiful," he says, as he lowers himself to the floor between your legs. "Get more beautiful every time I see you, y'know that?"

His lips suck at your inner thigh then, nipping the skin before he trails kisses up higher and higher, tugging you slightly to pull you down the bed and closer to his waiting mouth. You're in half a mind to joke about your pussy being flattered, but you know the time for jokes is over, and that what he said he very much means, when you look down to see his dark eyes staring straight back at you before he makes that first, delicious swipe of his tongue across your cunt.

He starts softly. Kitten licks to your labia, slowly tasting all of you, before kissing around your clit were it waits for him, less and less patient as his teasing goes on. His thick fingers rest on your thighs, kneading and stroking the delicate skin while is tongue flicks out to make a tentative, soft lick over your clit. Then, he's sucking it into his mouth, releasing, licking, and kissing it before starting the cycle all over again, making out with the sensitive nub and suckling away at it while you start to moan and sigh beneath him.

You were right. This was the exact kind of ache you wanted him to give you. Throbbing, deep, and desperate. Each swipe of his tongue making you want more. A self fullfilling prophecy of tongue fucking you into oblivion, and you wish you had the patience to stay here forever, to not want to be pushed over the edge by him and his wicked tongue.

He parts you with his thumbs, spreading you wide and using the digits to dip inside ever so slighty, igniting your core and making you whine for more. He gives it to you - one finger slipping into his mouth and coming out slick before tentatively dipping into your hole, fucking you with the tip until he can sink it down to the knuckle.

Sliding another finger in, he circles your clit with a soft tongue, fingers moving slowly as they stretch you. You arch your back into him, already feeling the tightness in your belly coil, ready to snap the second he picks up momentum.

"Two good?" he murmurs, breath ghosting over your twitching clit.

The noise you make is neither a yes or a no. Two is good, but you're not really sure two is enough. There's a stretch you're craving, you think, and you don't quite know how to put words to it, so your vague "ungh" will have to do.

Somehow, despite not even really knowing yourself, Joel does.

"Want more? I can give you more, darlin'," he says, slipping in a third finger, letting the stretch ease as you groan through it, before pumping them gently and returning to his steady, measured licks over your clit.

That's it, you think, and your eyes are closing, sending you away with the sensation of Joel between your legs, fucking his fingers deep and flicking his tongue against your swollen clit again, and again, and again.

Your fingers are gripping the sheets, your head is turning from side to side, your back arching as you whine and quiver, begging Joel for something, anything, and then the pace picks up, the delicate circles of his tongue turning firmer until your feet are pressing into the mattress and you're pressing into his face, the orgasm you were chasing smashing into you while you fuck yourself against his fingers, his mouth.

Then, he's pulls the wet heat of his mouth off of you, kissing all around your dripping pussy as it pulses around his fingers, your legs now floppy and boneless.

"Y'good?" he pants, sliding his fingers from your core and giving you one final lick, tasting your slick hole and nudging his nose into your clit, humming a laugh when you twitch with sensitivity.

"So good," you slur, watching him stand up, pink dress creased at the knee, and a distinct darker pink spot right at the tip of the prominent tent in the fabric.

You're very awake suddenly, when you see it.

"You can take it off now," you say, not bothering to look him in the eye when something much more important has your attention.

"Can I?" he teases, wiggle the dress up to his knees before dropping it down again.

"Take off the fucking dress, Joel."

You can't explain how much you want him in this moment. Your slick is still on his fingers and his chin, and he's rock solid for you beneath the dress and you think that, somehow, he's never looked better. Only, you think - no, you know - he'd look better with the dress off now, wearing nothing but you sheathed around his cock.

He grabs at his crotch through the dress, gripping around his length so you can see the outline of him clear as day, a trail of wetness pulling up from the bigger patch that had been forming.

"It's Were-Joel," he teases.

"Take it off, Were-Joel."

He does. One second its around his broad shoulders and the next it's off, thrown somewhere behind him, and he's completely naked, cock standing to attention in front of him, the tip slick and shiny with pre-cum.

"This what you after?" he says, holding the thick shaft by the base and shaking it toward you.

"Just give me your werewolf cock already, Were-Joel," you joke, reaching for him and spreading your legs shamelessly for him. "Or I swear, I'm gonna start howling."

You can practically see the lightbulb flick on above his head.

"Oh, I got somethin' to give you alright," he says, and you watch his work-toned back as it retreats into the bathroom, ass wiggling with each step.

"Don't you dare, Joel," you say as the door pulls closed, leaving you there on the bed. "Joel!"

Of course, you could get up and follow him. You could throw yourself back and get frustrated with being left so suddenly.

Instead, all you feel is excitement as it creeps up your toes, wiggles its way through your belly, and settles at the back of your throat in an excited, stifled, giggle. You hadn't had a surprise from Joel in some months and, while the sex was excellent, there was something thrilling about not knowing what he'd come out with next. You already knew there were some secrets he was keeping - he never did let you into his toy drawer unsupervised - but knowing you were very likely about to get treated to one of the many weird and wonderful toys Joel had was making you giddy.

You just about stop the excited vibration of your legs when Joel comes out of the bathroom. You're not sure what you expected, but at first glance, you don't see much of anything wrong.

Even when he tosses a bottle of lube onto the bed behind you, you can't see anything different. It's only when he turns to the side before climbing up beside you that you see the seeming deformity to his cock - a large bulge near the base that definitely wasn't there before.

Then, you see the silicone ring hugging his balls, and it all clicks into place while Joel looks at you with amusement.

"Oh my god," you say, staring at it with your mouth open.

If it wasn't clear silicone, maybe you would've seen it more easily. The lump is sheathed over his dick on a cock sleeve, held to him with a cockring fitting snugly over his balls, and sat right at the base of him where you so liked to sit yourself.

"Wanted a werewolf cock, didn't you?" he says, grinning lopsidedly while you stare. "Remembered I had this thing."

"There's no way I can take that, Joel," you say, finally looking up at him now that he'd climbed beside you, hands skating over your body again now that he was finally close enough.

"Don't have to take all of it, darlin'," he says, kissing your shoulder. "Can take it off right now if you really want. Though I do remember a certain someone takin' both my balls in their tight little cunt not too long ago."

You swallow thickly, his mouth sucking gently at your neck while his hands stroke softly across your belly, your thighs. "That was different, I... fuck, Joel."

In truth, you do want it. The whole thing, weird Were-Joel knot and all. So, you turn to him, catching his mouth with yours, and reach for that bottle of lube, steely determination in you when you finally grip his cock with your free hand.

"Give it to me."

He lights up, fire in his eyes, and pushes you down, grabbing and kissing you as you try to push him up, hook your legs around him, pull him in closer, to line him up with your core so you can feel the rippled bulge of the silicone knot as it slips up and down your slick pussy.

Joel drizzles lube over the top of his cock, gasping when the cold liquid hits him, before turning the bottle to you, watching the clear fluid dribble out over your cunt. It's cold when it hits, trickling down your seam to wet the bed beneath you. Neither of you care, not when Joel's fingers are swiping through the mess and pushing in, other hand on his own cock, stroking the head as he fucks fingers into you and feels you flutter around them.

"Don't think you'll have a problem takin' all o' this, darlin'," he says to you. "You want it fuckin' bad, don't you?"

You haul yourself up to kiss him while he finger fucks you and fucks his own fist. If you didn't know about the thing wrapped around his dick, you'd settle for tonight ending like this, his fingers knuckle deep while he spurts ropes of cum all over you. But, you want it, so your fingers snake up his leg to squeeze gently at his balls, slick with lube and taut from the ring around them.

"I always want it bad, Joel."

Legs splayed, he pushes you back, and swpies his cock through the mess between your legs. He wastes no time pressing his broad tip into you. You gasp the second he breaches you, your hands finding purchase on his golden shoulders while he teases the tip in and out, before pressing in deeper.

"How do you always feel so good," you say in breathless amazement when he's half way burried in you. "Every time."

You both groan when he pulls out and pushes back in, deeper still, until you feel the edge of the toy nudging at your entrance, and he stops.

"Magic dick," he jokes, voice low and husky. "Maybe I shoulda been a witch this year."

"Not a wizard?"

He shrugs, moving onto his forearms to kiss you without pressing further in, beyond the rim of the knot strapped to his cock. "You liked the dress."

There it is. That feeling that'd been pushing down for months, blooming in your chest again. He so often said things like this - little things that meant not much of anything to most people, but meant the world to you. It wasn't about the dress, if you thought about it. It was knowing that there was someone in the world that was happy and willing to do something, just because you liked it.

You're still and staring at him with glassy eyes when he nudges your nose with his own.

"Think you can take more?"

"Yeah. I want it, Joel, please."

He's gentle when he presses forward next. He reaches a hand between you, pulling you open as he pushes in, checking the toy strapped to him is lubed up enough to not feel dry as it spreads you wider than you'd been in some time.

Because, despite what he said, it is bigger than his balls. They were pulled tight into a ball-torpedo that day, and while the girthy stretch of it was amazing, it was nothing compared to this. This one felt like him.

You could feel his head push deeper, while the solid slickness of his shaft parted you wider, and then the stretch of the silicone knot - firm but yeilding, and as warm and wet with lube as the rest of his cock. You could barely tell where he ended and it began, and you didn't really care to work it out. Even when it stretched you to the widest point, pressing into your entrance with the rest of him to finally slip home with one more press forward of Joel's hips. It filled you - he filled you - and you groaned at the stretch, the feel of yourself clamping around down his cock, the knot, moulding your insides to this new shape of him.

You're breathing heavy when he stills inside you, murmuring in your ear words that you don't hear until he's gently squeezing your cheeks.

"Y'ain't all fucked out already, are you?" he says, looking into your dazed eyes.

You aren't. Well, you are. The ridges and ripples of the toy lodged inside you along with his cock are pushing against just about every sensitive spot you have, and you don't quite think you have words to say anything, let alone explain it all to Joel.

So, you just nod dumbly at him, whining and grabbing at him to make him move.

The first rock of his hips barely shifts him inside of you, but you can't help the deep groan that pulls out of your chest. It's like he's locked so impossibly deep inside of you that every movement of his cock nudges deeper.

He's careful not to pull the full width of the knot out of you for a while. He just moves, slowly, checking your face where your brows draw tight together and your mouth quivers with the intensity of it all.

Then, when you finally adjust enough to kiss him again, he pulls out, swallowing down your gasp when the knot stretches your sensitive entrance.

Tears spring to your eyes when he pushes back in. It doesn't hurt - not even close - but it's so fucking much that you can't help it, your entire body alive and burning with each movement he makes.

"Joel," you wail, biting into his shoulder as you quiver and quake. You're entirely out of control of your body now, but it doesn't matter. It's safe with Joel - it always has been - and you grip him as best you can while the last dregs of your self control slip away.

"I got you," he says his hands sliding under your ass, and up your back, hugging you to him. "C'mere."

You're bonelessly hauled into his lap, Joel grunting with the effort and the feel of how you clench around him with the shift os his cock rooted deep in you.

"Fuck. There we go. Y'feel that?"

You do. He must know you do by how babble and whine in his ear.

However the toy felt before, it feels even more intense like this. You're sat with your legs wrapped around him, perched on his lap while his thighs are splayed wide to stablize both of you. His cock hasn't moved from it's place deep inside you, but the shift of your body is making the knot nudge that spot inside you usually only his fingers can find.

"Fff-uck, Joel. Joel," you manage to warn, before a tear spills over your waterline. "Don'tstopdon'tfuckingstop."

The flash of concern on his face is only brief as he swipes away the tear, but then he hears you, listens, and rocks against you, pubic hair grinding against your swollen clit as the knot lcosk the two of you together.

It's overwhelming how deep he is and how full you feel. So overwheleming, you just can't help it. That's your excuse, anyway.

"I lo- " you gasp, choking back your own words when he fucks particularly deep.

"What was that?" He asks, groaning as you pulse around him.

"I - I like you," you say into his neck, wincing at your fucking stupidity for letting anything slip, for being too fucked out and cock drunk to think of a better cover than you like him.

"Yeah?" Joel says, a smile in his voice. "You like me?"

You're about to answer, when he pulls back, the knot popping from you before pressing in deep again, making you scramble to grip hold tight of him with the feel of it.

"Ye-es! S-so much."

"Really?"

He does it again, this time pulling you up too, practically making you bounce and fuck yourself onto his knot, and you suddenly don't give a shit what comes out of your mouth now, just that it makes Joel keep doing whatever it is that's happening right now. You feel so wet, you're certain you're dripping, making a mess of his cock, his balls, his thighs, his sheets.

"Yes."

The knot slips out and you pull yourself down onto it this time, groaning when you bottom out and he holds you to him, fucking up into you in shallow movements that are so deep you can feel it in your belly.

"Oh god, yeah."

Wrapping his arms around you, he grinds deep then, pulling you down onto him with each roll of his hips, the friction of his pubic hair against your clit making you howl into his chest.

It feels like panic, but you know it's not. You know it's not because it's as much in your cunt, in your belly, in your spine, than it is in your throat. Still, it bubbles up just the same, frantic desperate words coming out in a stream of nonsense before you know what's about to hit you.

"Joel, Joel, fuck, Joel - I - uhhnng -"

But Joel knows.

He keeps grinding deep, keeps pulling you down, murmuring in your ear filthy encouragement. Your hands struggle to grip him now, the sweat on his skin making him slick as he holds you up, pulls you down, fucks you deeper than you've ever been fucked before.

And then, like a dam, it breaks. You silently scream into his chest, tears spilling down your face, your pussy throbbing and clenching and gushing all over him while he never, not for a second, stops fucking you through it.

Even when you slump in his arms, whining and still coming, flooding his cock, he keeps going.

"That's it," he growls. "That's it, come on it. Come all over me."

You wish you could see him. You wish you had the energy to pull yourself off of him and look at his beuatiful cock and the mess you'd made of it, how throbbing and desperate it was for you, balls gripped tight by the ring and base held stiff by the knot. You'd fuck yourself onto it, if you could. Instead, you just pant in his arms, nodding into his chest, kissing and licking at just about any part you can while he ruts into you.

"You want this?" he grunts, grabbing your ass and spreading your cheeks, letting you somehow slip further down him with the spread.

He grunts loudly in your ear then, panting deep breaths while his chest heaves. "Fuck - fuckin' thing on my balls, not gonna last, say you want it," he begs. "Tell me you want it."

"I want you, I want you, Joel, I want you," you babble into his neck, grabbing his face, kissing him as he grunts into your mouth, cock throbbing where it impales you, balls tight as he comes as deep in you as he's ever been. You think it might just be the hardest he's ever came in you, with how still he goes, and how long he groans - the deep sound of it turning into a desperate whine while his hips cant and rock and fuck you like he's possessed.

And, when it's over, he holds you still, unconciously rocking the two of you gently, bodies so slick with sweat and come that it's a wonder you can even keep yourselves held together.

It's with a groan that he lays you both back. Then, gingerly, he pulls out and tugs the toy off his cock and balls, throwing it to the floor. With delicate kisses to your sweaty chest, he milks the last drops of cum from his cock, smearing it over your used, swollen cunt, as more of him dribbles out of you onto the sheets.

"Marking your territory are you, Were-Joel?" you say with a sleepy, contented smile up at him.

"Not much o' one for pissin' on people, so," he says with a lopside shrug and a soft smile, "Yeah." And he wipes the last drop of cum onto your clit, before kissing you and falling beside you, pulling your legs over his and cradling your spent body against his chest.

You cuddle for a while, falling into a sleepy doze as your hands wander. Then the warmth of him is away, kissing your hairline, and back not a moment later with water placed on the bedside table and a damp towel for between your thighs.

The wet patch is whisked away, dragged off the bed by Joel and replaced with a different comforter as you crawl into his bed, waiting for him beneath the fresh sheets, where he flicks the room into darkness and holds you to him once more.

When you're both settled, your heartbeats calmed and your breaths shallow and sleepy, Joel clears his throat.

"You do know Were-Joel is just man-Joel, right?" he says, his voice rumbling in his chest and straight to your ear.

"Mhm," you yawn. "I told you ages ago I like man-Joel best of all. I'd take him over any of the other Joel's any day."

"Hm," he says with a smile. "That so?"

"Yep."

"Nothin' else?"

"Nope," you mumble into his chest, sleep coming for you quicker and quicker now that his voice is right there soothing you to sleep.

"Alright then."

And you think that's it, that that is all he has to say, that you can both drift off to sleep, warm and safe in each others embrace.

"I love you too."

Your head snaps up to look at him in the dark. He pushes your hair from your face, and you laugh, suddenly giddy and silly and with too much energy and nowhere to put it. "Joel!"

You can see a sliver of his gentle smile in the dark, feel it as he presses it to your forehead, and your laughter dies down knowing that it's not a joke, that he heard you, that he knows, that he accepts your silence not as rejection but as something else, something you know to be true but can't name, even to yourself, even here so safe and warm and content in his arms that it could never be anything else.

"G'night, darlin'."

And as you fall asleep you just hope that maybe, in the morning, you'll be able to say those three little words too.

next part

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

@youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123

@valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather

@stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr @joelsdagger

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #coveted fics #big bawl jawl #never forget the balls #fic: dress up joel

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bonchobrick · 2 years ago

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Dead on Main au where Jason is of course Danny’s Fright Knight and like all knights do he has a weapon—except it’s his gun.

The batfam + justice league + everyone (except ghosts duh) don’t know that his normal average everyday gun is actually like a super powerful spiritual soul shooter that is, yaknow, capable of blasting someone into an alternate dimension where their greatest fears become real.

So imagine there’s like a big battle where a ghastly ghoul reigns terror on Gotham. The world sends their best hero’s—wizards and occultists are notably high highest in demand—to stop the ghost but, nothing works. All of the weapons and spells and chants fail.

But,

As the fights worsens and the heros scream for people to flee suddenly--

Loud squeaking footsteps echo across the ground. Jason yawns strolling into the battle zone in a ghostbusters t-shirt plaid pants bunny slippers--he strolls up in pajamas--as if annoyed at being woken up and cocks his fucking normal 'i could buy you at walmart' gun at the ghost.

His brothers screech at him yelling ”Are you insane” and to "get the hell out of here" in fear and panic because their idiot brother is trying to kill a real life ghost with a damn gun.

But then Jason shoots the ghost and it works.

The ghost fizzles down with a cry into just a little blob.

The young man then spends 30 minutes lecturing the spirit saying things like “you’re glad I’m not calling the big guy” and “you know our highness would not be happy learning what you’ve been doing” before taking out a thermos of all things and sucking the ghost into it.

Jason then sighs and walks away as if he hadn’t just defeated a hell raising ghost with a gun people can buy off a corner pawn store and a soup container.

Immediately the bat family swarms him with questions

Dick grabs him by his shoulders tense with worry, “Are you okay?”

“Um yeah—“ Jason tries to reply squirming in his hold

Damian cuts him off, “How the hell did your gun a physical weapon hurt that ghastly demonic spirit!”

“Uh that ghost is actually pretty chill you guys just pissed him off." Jason replies plain

They stare at him with a look saying 'you did not call a ghost that has been decimating gotham chill' probably because he did just that.

Tim is the first to break out of the disbelief stupor as he very inteligently says, "What?"

Jason responds easily with a confused quirk in his brow, "Second, my gun affects entities of all sorts, perks to my job and all that."

"How did being a vigilante and also probably crime boss give you a gun that could do that?" Dick asks

Jason sends him a look saying "are you an idiot" as he replies, "Yea, sure, kicking petty thieves and druggies got me my all powerful spirit weapon--No you dumbass, it's from being the bodyguard of the King of the Infinite Realms! How the hell did you guys not think of that!”

Tim breathes in, then breathes out, then breathes in again and screams, "Why the HELL WOULD WE THINK OF THAT JAY?!"

"The--" Batman, suddenly beside them, chokes, "Bodyguard of T-the what."

Jason blinks at his family then his eyes widen, "Oh shit."

"What?!" His family screech in panic

"Oh fuck," Jason says with a growing hysteric smile, "Danny's gonna have a big ol' fucking laugh with this."

"Brother who is Danny!" Damian demands for an answer

Jason coughs into his palm, "Oh yeah you guys really dont dont know. So I may have forgotten to explain some... things."

Bruce levels him with a stare that says "you think?"

Jason chuckles nervously, "So y'know how I'm half dead?"

pause

Damian very eloquently responds for the suddenly dying screaming combusting members of his family, "...sure."

"Well I met the King of the afterlife which is like the Ruler of Everything and he was really cute--" Jason says distant in his own world

"Theres a afterlife?" Superman asks casually appearing beside the emotionally wrecked family

"Yea its pretty cool. So I start flirting a bit with the guy and we hit it off, I now im his zombie ghost knight boyfriend lover for all time. Oh and i got this sickass gun." Jason says with a happy grin

"That is a pretty sick gun." John Constantine nods

"I know right?" Jason chirps

"You wouldn't mind if I inspected--" John reaches his hand

Jason slaps it away, "Not a chance you soul whore. Y'know your basically the tax evasionist of the Ghost Zone right?"

John only sighs and leaves

"But yea so I'm like the ghost world equivalent to married with the king and became his knight and thats how I was able to stop that ghost guy." Jason reiterates as if explaining a simple question, "Y'guys get that?"

Tim is on the ground trying to decide whether; sobbing hysterically, interogating jason to find out all the things he doesn't want to know or sleeping would be a better use of his time.

Dick has decided to blame himself and has started to draft a reddit post in the middle of the street starting with "I (23 m) have a younger brother (19 m), who I used to resent but really regret now, he died and came back and doesn't even tell me about what goes on in his life anymore. How do I fix our--"

Damian is just staring at the gun and... Jason pushes it deeper in his holster and shifts to the side, better to be safe than sorry with this thieving shit.

As Jason adjusts his weaponry he hears Bruce sob in the background, "He didn't even invite me to the wedding! Am I that horrible of a father!"

Wonder Woman pats his shoulder reasuringly whilst the rest of the League seem to be trying to calm him down

Jason looks around tiredly at the mess he had created and decides fuck it

"Alright I'm heading out for the night, you guys get home safe!" He yells and without caring to listen to anyone and everyone voicing their confusion he zips open a green portal and stumbles in

He crashes down on an unbelievably comfortable bed

Danny blinks blearily before sending the young man a sleepy smile, "Hey Jay, what kept you up so long?"

Jason slipping under the blankets with a yawn says, "You would not believe the night I just had."

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

Edit: UMM HII The fic is out now here!! you guys are awesome I'll post the new chapter 2 in a hot sec after editting ^^

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wanderingsimsfinds · 5 months ago

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WanderingSims Fave CC - Teen Female List

1-2, 15 - Anzuchansims - CloudCat OneLastKiss Top Long Sleeves, Short Sleeves, & Skirt

3 - Nightospheresims - dissia Penelope Top

4-6, 18 Nightospheresims - jellymoo Grim Hoodie, Undead Tee, Zinc Tee, & Ghoul Skirt

7-8, 36 - Nightospheresims - Serenity Cate Top, Taylor Top, & Taylor Pants

9-10 - Nightospheresims - babytears Horror Void Sweater & Star Top

11, 59, 64 - AmerikoSteelie - Satellite 4t3 Elliesimple Cropped Sweater Top, SkittleSims 4t3 Elliesimple Midi Dress, & RolloRolls 4t3 Elliesimple Angel Dress

12 - polaesims - Serenity Barbie Fluffy Sweater

13-14, 46-47, 67-68, 72, 83-86, 88-89 - AmerikoSteelie - 4t3 Rimings Lazy Sunday Crop Top + Shorts, 4t3 AdriendPastel Keira Outfit, 4t3 Rimings Autumn School Uniform Outfit, 4t3 Rimings Summer Poison Midi Dress, 4t3 Arltos Evening Dress, 4t3 Rimings Summer Poison Swimsuit, 4t3 Jius Bowknot Hell Pumps, 4t3 Jius Bowknot Platform Loafers 01, 4t3 Jius Daisy Sandals 01, 4t3 Jius Y2K Loafers With Leg Warmers, Platform Leather Sandals, & 4t3 Arltos Geta Kimono Shoes

16-17 - SimSongs - Rusty Taylor Jacket & Belted Trousers

19-20, 45, 65, 80 - AmerikoSteelie - SugarSSims 4t3 BRS Sugar Skirt + Top, PuChiHouse School Uniform, R0ach3z 4t3 Serenity Lolly Dress, & UWillNeverFindMe 4t3 KK404 Japanese Kimono

21-23 - Nightospheresims - AxA Olivia Skirt & Trillkye Moonwalk Pajamas Top + Pants

24, 48 - AmerikoSteelie - simsoficeandfire 4t3 LazyEyelids Denim Miniskirt & simsoficeandfire 4t3 NitroPanic Cute ASF Dress

25 - VMSims - 4t3 School Korean Uniform Fem Skirt 2 + 2b

26-29 - KotaJose - Pleated Skirt + Loose Slacks & Kristal Leggings + Skinny Jeans

30 - SuteFlower - Gorilla3x Basic Jeans

31, 62 - RStar - Strada Jeans & Enchanted Dress

32-33 - elvgreen - Elliesimple Straight Levi's Bottom & Clumsyalien Riona Bottom

34 - xxbomixx - b0t0xbrat Dark Cargo Pants

35 - MickeyMouseClubhouss - Orion Sweatpants

37 - teekapoa - EP11 Bottom Edit

38-42 - Anzuchansims - CloudCat Avalon Outfit V1 + V2 & CloudCat Blight Outfit Jacket + Outfit & Marigold Ribbon Strap Off Shoulder Sweatshirts Dress

43 - VMSims - 4t3 Korean Girls School Uniform

44 - Nightospheresims - kumikya Carly Outfit

49, 91-92 - Anzuchansims - Nell Transparent Sleeves Dress & Carnival Scene Shoes V1 + V2

50 - VMSims - 4t3 Gorillax3 Blazer Vest Dress

51-53 - Nightospheresims - demondar Audrey Dress + Amity Dress & Trillkye Delight Dungaree Dress

54 - AmerikoSteelie - 4t3 NitroPanic Suspender Dress V2

55 - Nightospheresims - Trillkye Splash Cardigan Dress

56-57 -AmerikoSteelie - 4t3 Arethabee Secret Society Sabrina Dress & 4t3 Arethabee Wildflowers Violet Dress

58 - AmerikoSteelie - 4t3 CloudCat Fatal Frame Ruka Lace Dress

60 - elvgreen - 4t3 ekinege Chiffon Mini

61, 79, 90 - AmerikoSteelie - Xiasimla 4t3 SP23 Dress Silk, Xiasimla 4t3 Zeussim Asian Affair Dress, & VenusPrincess Zori With Tabi Shoes

63 - Nightospheresims - RR Marie Dress

66 - Nightospheresims - Madlen Daisy Dress

69 - AmerikoSteelie - 4t3 Elliesimple Pajamas Two Piece V2

70-71 - VMSims - 4t3 Gorillax3 Short Piping Pajama Full Body & 4t3 Sudalsims Homewear Dress

73-77 - Nightospheresims - Trillkye Thea Bikini, Madlen Sandy Bikini 1 + 2, Kumikya Lola Bikini, & ciao Glitter Bikini

78 - kent404 - Female Yukata

81 - sweetdevil - WA Cheongsam

82 - AmerikoSteelie - 4t3 Astya96 Lolita Platform Shoes

87 - AmerikoSteelie - 4t3 Madlen Sweet Harmony Melody Shoes

93 - Jamiesplayhouse - 4t3 Converse

94-95 - pixicat - Vans Sneakers & Dr Martens

96 - SimSongs - Madlen Kai Sneakers

97-102 - SuteFlower - Jius Platform Heeled Boots 01, Jius Star Fuzzy Boots 01, Jius Canvas Platform Sneakers 01, Jius Platform Pumps With Socks + Jius Heeled Jelly Sandals, & Jius Leather Ankle Boots 04

#cc list

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yvknda · 2 months ago

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the ghouls just love dressing pc up

jin (to which i doubt! tohma did all the work here, from handpicking it to managing the delivery, maybe?) sending pc matching sets to choose from for the ball fucking show off just from some first premarital handholding experience

vagastrom (AND pc!) cop undercover, shame we didn't get an illustration of it

haru lending ren's house uniform like some mom trying to set his son up with his crush (and i say, thank you for the boyfriend shirt, haru!)

homeboy haku taking every opportunity to see pc dress up other than darkwick's uniform, it's not just for the mission, come on! (heir to the clan and HIS lady, nom nom)

and THE tokutaisei outfit of them all! thank you, romeo scorpius lucci! (this gets worse in my head after reading and rereading romeo x pc/reader and yandere!romeo dressing us up RRAAAH)

special mention to mortkranken for dressing pc up on her patient garments, very romantic! let's try on another one, no? nurse outfit?

unfortunately, obscuary lost on this one, if only rui would let pc be his little house helper... maid outfit, save me, maid outfit scratch this one, a reblog just reminded me of the pajamas rui lent the pc and oml that's 7/7 houses making her change her wardrobe for whatever each needs her to be

#tdb #tokyo debunker

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egglain · 10 days ago

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Feel You (In My Bones) - The Party & The After Party

Rating: E (18+*) - mdni Pairing: Toji x reader, Choso x reader, Gojo x reader, Geto x reader, Gojo x Geto, Sukuna x reader, Nanami x reader Content: gender-neutral reader (you/yours pronouns), afab language used for reader's anatomy during the smut routes, Gojo party Halloween shenanigans, JJK men making moves (canon-accurate scary Toji & Sukuna), ShokoHime friendship, smut tags differ between endings Word Count: 3.3k/?

Summary: After avoiding it for years, your best friends Shoko and Utahime must bite the bullet; attend a Gojo Halloween party. As fate would have it, you'd fall into the care of a gaggle of ghouls; strangers at the party can't seem to get enough.

Trick, or treat?

Will you let them haunt your holes? Or will you leave the door unanswered?

A/N: welcome to the Egglain Halloween smuttacular! Each bolded phrase is a possibility, a chance to jump the bones of the men you bump into on your journey.

This part can be read on its own, or with any number of the endings; they each stand alone & are unconnected to the main ending and the other routes.

*while this part isn't explicit, the "routes" are. Routes will be posted as they are finished, in the order they appear in the fic; stay tuned!

Growing up, Halloween was good for two things and two things only—candy and costumes.

Candy had become less and less interesting as your frontal lobe developed, and with “adult money,” it was even less of a hot commodity. And costumes weren’t quite acceptable after you hit 14—at least not the same ones you wanted to wear.

So, Halloween evolved into something new.

Nowadays, it meant crowding around the TV with a big bag of popcorn, Shoko and Utahime putting on a scary movie for you to wind down to together. It meant slipping pajamas on early and huddling under thick blankets, lights off, as an anonymous killer pounced on a nameless protagonist. It meant falling asleep between your two closest friends, filling the hole in your heart that adulthood managed to whittle into its tender flesh.

You had grown fond of Halloween, in a new way—perhaps grown fonder of it than you were as a kid. It was no longer a short-lived rush of dopamine, dominated by consumption and the variable kindness of strangers. No, it was a celebration of your friendship. Of your new life. Of your family.

Which is why this sucked ass.

“Party?”

“Yeah,” Shoko took a long drag from the stubby cigarette between her lips, “a… friend’s. Haven’t seen him since high school, really.”

The way she was chewing on her words, speaking on a smoke-filled exhale, told you pretty much everything you needed to know about this friend.

“So why are you going?”

Utahime pinched the skin between her eyes, looking equally as unsatisfied. “It’s… complicated.”

“We’ve been skirting around him for a while now—but the thing about Gojo Satoru is you can only avoid him for so long… he’s like a disease,” Shoko murmured.

“Like a common cold—mostly harmless, but a pain in the ass. Now it’s time to bite the bullet.”

“So… no festivities?”

“Well… we were hoping you’d come along with us.” Utahime stalled, choosing her words carefully. “You don’t have to—it’ll probably be a lot of drinking and dancing and reminiscing on our high school years… probably some of Gojo’s bigshot friends. But you’d get to wear a costume!”

“And if any of Gojo’s freakzoid friends bother you, we’ll cut their dicks off.” Shoko flicked her cigarette to the pavement and crushed the dying butt under a heel.

You didn’t doubt she would.

Which is how you ended up here.

Firstly, Gojo Satoru’s house could put mansions to shame.

Secondly, this was not the “high school reunion” you were expecting.

Dozens of strangers filled the glass-paned main floor of the home, spilling out onto the well-manicured lawn with bottles and solo cups in hand. It was like a scene out of every shitty teen film—music blared from somewhere in the house, colourful LEDs illuminating the otherwise dark gathering. Skimpy devils and sexy cops hung off the arms of Ghostfaces and… an Elvis impersonator?

Shoko and Utahime on your flanks, you managed to push your way inside. They were skittish—on-edge almost. You weren’t sure who this Gojo Satoru was, aside from an old friend, but by the looks of it, he had to be important. If not for his seemingly endless wealth or his obscene amount of apparent social power, for this disease-like personality.

Nerves were understandable. But as Shoko and Utahime pulled away, whispering among themselves—as you lost them in the crowd—you felt less and less empathy.

Now, standing alone in the centre of a lofty living room, awkwardly swaying to the music in a sea of intoxicated bodies, you couldn’t help but feel a little resentment for this Gojo guy.

Dancers jostled you this way and that as you fumbled for your phone. With shaky fingers, you opened the group chat, trying to flag down your missing friends.

hey think i lost u guys

where r y’all?

hello?

“All alone n’ without a drink?”

A gravelly voice woke you from your stupor.

A tall man—probably a good head taller than you— held out a hand. A silvery scar tugged at the stranger’s lips as he grinned, clearly in on some joke you weren’t.

Something about this man was predatory; he was dressed in simple clothes, a slutty gun holster strapped to his left upper thigh overtop of too-tight black jeans. The muscles of his quads strained against the fabric, as did the full pectorals framed by his compression tee.

“Leon Kennedy?”

“Who?” The stranger cocked an eyebrow.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Your costume.”

“I’m a hitman.”

Taking in the gun and the way he composed himself—that arrogant mug, the bulging arms crossed over his fat chest—he played the bit well.

“Fitting.”

“Let me grab ya something to drink.”

You mulled it over.

“I’m good, thanks…”

“Aw, c’mon. I don’t bite.”

“Oh, no—no thanks.”

You really didn’t want to get on this guy’s bad side. The gun glinted as the LEDs faded to purple and he caught the way your eyes danced along the barrel. It had to be metal. Looked heavy enough, and very realistic.

“Ya like? It’s the real deal.”

Cold shot through your veins, and it took every fibre of your being to not falter at his words.

His grin didn’t meet his eyes. The empty way he was looking down at you left no room for interpretation—he was telling the truth.

You tried to laugh but the sound didn’t come out quite right.

You took a step back, bumping into someone behind you. You didn’t dare turn around. The man took a step forward, following your movement.

“Wanna touch?”

“Oh, no thanks.”

“C’mon—”

“No, man.”

Another voice. You turned around.

A guy—much closer to your age—wrapped a protective arm around your midsection. Deep brown eyes met yours, and the cold melted away inside.

The stranger looked terrifying. Long dark hair was pulled up into twin spiked buns. The pale column of his throat was constricted by thick leather collars, heavy with metal padlocks. He was slender—thinner than the other man—but the ink across the bridge of his nose, and down his arms and chest, made it clear he could handle his pain too.

However, there was one main difference between him and the other stranger—kindness. Dark eyeliner and purple bags rimmed surprisingly soft eyes. While he had wrapped his arm around you, his hand didn’t make contact with your hip.

“You okay, babe?”

Heat flooded your face. You opened your mouth to reply, but almost as soon as it began, his arm fell away.

“Sorry about that. The guy just seemed like he was bothering you, and I hate men who can’t seem to take no for an answer, and I wasn’t sure how else to—”

Looking behind you, the scary stranger from earlier had disappeared into the crowd. The man in front of you was scratching at the back of his neck, flushed in apparent shame. Something in your heart twinged.

“No, no—I owe you one. Thanks for helping… I wasn’t sure how I was gonna get out of that mess.”

The stranger seemed pleased with that answer.

“Anyone else would’ve done the same… no need to thank me.” He smiled down at his shoes—short black platform docs that were scuffing at the shiny tile. “But maybe we could… get to know each other better sometime?”

Your heart fluttered.

“I mean—I just sort of grabbed you, and I wouldn’t want a stranger to do that to me, so maybe um… we can stop being strangers?” He rushed to explain.

The panic in his eyes was endearing. That kindness in him was so painfully evident.

“I’d like that.”

The bright smile that spread across his otherwise sullen face could have put the sun to shame.

“I have to find my friends right now, but maybe I could give you my number?”

He was nodding so fast it was a miracle his head didn’t fly off.

You padded your number into a slim black phone.

“There. It’s nice to meet you…”

“Choso Kamo.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Choso Kamo.”

With that, and another brilliant smile, you were alone again.

You checked your phone. A “hi!” text from an unknown number—Choso, you assume—and two texts from Utahime lit up the screen.

out back by the pool

see u soon

You pushed your way through the crowd, on the hunt for your friends.

The backyard was an oasis—or, perhaps it would be, if it wasn’t packed full of half-drunk half-costumed partygoers. Utahime and Shoko stood at the marble edge of a too-blue pool, speaking with a tall Playboy bunny and… Pitbull?

Approaching, you could see the tension melting out of Utahime’s shoulders as you met eyes.

“This is Gojo Satoru—that friend we were telling you about.” Utahime’s well-manicured nails extended to the one in the Pitbull costume.

A jovial laugh—too youthful to match the bald exterior—filled the air as the man smiled at you. He was tall. Freakishly so. And startlingly pale. Long white lashes lined too-blue eyes, striking even through his tinted sunglasses.

“Oh please. Call me Mr. Worldwide.”

Shoko rolled her eyes.

Utahime’s hand extended to the man next to Gojo. “This is Suguru Geto. Another friend from high school.”

The man—Suguru Geto—was almost as tall as Gojo Satoru. Silky black hair was tied half-up in a loose bun, the rest of his tresses spilling over his shoulder and plump chest.

And oh what a chest it was.

Soft fat tits spilled out over a low-cut black corset, jiggling like pudding as he laughed at Shoko’s unimpressed expression. The latex corset tapered off sharply, curvy hips and large thighs caged in loose-knit fishnets. Black bunny ears sat slightly askew on top of his head.

He looked delicious.

“You feeling alright?” Suguru asked, head tilting a little.

“Oh—me? Yeah, totally fine.”

“Are you sure…?”

“We can take you inside for some peace and quiet,” the bald man supplied, nudging Suguru.

Utahime and Shoko were giving you a look.

The kind that you’d learned to avoid.

The kind that said absolutely not.

Creep-o’clock.

Stay away.

“Oh—that’s very kind. But I think I’m alright. Thank you.”

You made a mental note to ask follow-up questions later.

Shoko put a hand on Gojo’s shoulder, long red nails digging into his shoulder. “Why don’t we go in? I could use some water.”

Gojo, Geto, Shoko, and Utahime exchanged looks, speaking a language in gazes that you couldn’t quite understand. Utahime nodded, shepherding the men back towards the house. Shoko lingered behind for a moment.

“They’re losers. Enjoy your night; we’ll keep ‘em busy a little longer.” She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the front pocket of her costume—a white medical coat—and put one between her front teeth. “Give us a couple more minutes and then we’ll make up an excuse to head home, alright?”

You nodded, and she gave you a firm pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd after the other three.

Once again, you were alone.

“Keep getting abandoned tonight, huh?”

Warm breath fanned over the shell of your ear, low rich voice cutting through the incessant buzzing of the party.

“That’s not what ‘friends’ do, is it?”

“How is that any of your business?” Spinning around to face the assailant, the words died midway.

He was tall.

Impossibly so—comfortably towering over the crowd.

“Telling me I can’t look at you?” He snorted, cracking his neck and knuckles.

And he was large.

Larger than the man with the scar, even.

A monster.

“Well—no…”

With the cocky way he was smirking down at you, he was aware of it too. His eyes, red, glinted with amusement as you fumbled the ending of what was supposed to be a witty comeback.

“Good. Then I think it’s my business.”

Confidence—he wore it well. It suited the hard planes of his face, the arrogant quirk of his lips accentuating the strength of his boxy jaw. Big inked arms flexed as he dug his hands a little deeper into the pockets of his orange prison jumpsuit. The top half was undone, sleeves fastened around his waist. A black wifebeater clung to the contours of a strong chest, tattoos creeping out from beneath the straps to trail over his shoulders.

He was the picture of a stereotypical inmate.

The only thing that stuck out, however, was the soft pink of his hair.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

The man quirked a slitted eyebrow.

“Somethin’ funny, brat?”

“No, no—sorry… just your costume.”

“What about it?”

“Just looks like you put a lot of effort into it, is all.”

He was looking at you—really looking. His gaze was weighted, and you could feel his eyes bearing holes into yours. He struck you as a rich boy; the type who were used to getting what they wanted, used to women throwing themselves onto him. So, if he was going to try to intimidate you, it wouldn’t work. You held his gaze.

“Put a couple years into it, yeah….” The words were slow, dripping in an innuendo you weren’t sure you wanted to understand.

You opened your mouth to move the conversation elsewhere, but with him looking at you so unabashedly—so intensely—it was hard to think. Hard to breathe, even.

Your neck twinged, aching from the way it was bent to look up at him.

Fuck.

When did he get so close?

“O-Oh yeah?”

“Mhmmm,” he drawled, stepping in even closer. The toe of his heavy boots bumped against yours, and you could once again feel the heat of his breath on you. “Wanna see it up close?”

“You’re really close already—”

“I meant off my body.”

Fuck.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

He was no good—it didn’t take a psychologist to see there was something fundamentally off about this guy.

His aura—malevolent—set off alarm bells through your entire body.

He carried himself with a deeply-ingrained confidence, a surety that had your heart racing and your stomach dropping… but seeing him up close, you weren’t sure how you had ever mistaken him for some pampered rich boy. No. His tanned skin was littered with little scars and burns, well-worn. He was a fighter… and from the looks of it, a winning one.

Ice spread down your spine. Your body tensed.

Fight or flight was activating—fight, however, would stand no chance against this man. Turning on your heel, you began to walk away.

“Hey! Where you goin’?” His gruff voice called after you, but you didn’t dare turn back.

Beelining it back to the house, you sought out the kitchen. The place was a maze, but picking up the trail of partygoers with drinks in hand, you eventually found your way.

Shoko and Utahime stood around a large marble island with Gojo and Geto, huddled in to chat amongst themselves. Catching the movement in the corner of her eye, Shoko did a double-take upon your entrance. You communicated with your eyes in that secret language now; let’s go. Now.

With a tug on Utahime’s sleeve, the two were pulling away from the men.

“Wait—what’s happening?” Big blue eyes peered out from over the goofy sunglasses. “Leaving already?”

You couldn’t help but feel a little bad for this Gojo guy; not seeing his friends in a long time, partially because of you, and now having them torn away early because you made some poor choices with the wrong guy.

“Sorry, Gojo—I just… don’t feel well.”

Gojo looked between you and the two women, cogs turning in his mind.

“Nanami can take you home. He’s a good guy.”

“We’re leaving together.” Utahime spoke with no room for argument, hand on your shoulder.

You brushed it off, shaking your head. “It’s okay, ‘hime. Enjoy your night.”

Gojo clapped his hands together, too-white grin spreading across those too-white cheeks. “Then it’s settled! C’mon, let’s find him together.”

While you probably didn’t need the escort, you appreciated Gojo’s guiding hand, if not for anything but his lanky limbs and ability to part the crowd. It was a nice bonus that it gave some semblance of security against that inmate. Though, seeing the size of that guy, it was hard to imagine scrawny Satoru standing a chance against him.

In the living room, Gojo clasped a large blonde man on the shoulder, startling him from where he was chatting with a jovial brown-haired guy you didn’t recognize.

“Nanamin!.”

The blonde man sighed, turning around to eye Gojo warily. He was chiseled. The hard set of his lips matched the low seat of his brows as he met the host’s eyes.

“Gojo.” His voice was stern. Unimpressed.

“I need a little teeny weeny favour—could ya do one for me?”

The blonde man sighed, and he rubbed his forehead in a way that reminded you of Shoko. He clearly felt the same way about Satoru Gojo. Weirdly enough, it relaxed you.

“What is it?”

“I need you to drive someone home.”

Gojo dragged you between them by the shoulders, thrusting you towards the stranger.

Nanami smiled down at you sympathetically.

“Should have started with that, Satoru.”

“Oopsie. Noted! Well, I’m leaving things to you, Nanamin.”

Gojo released you, opting to wave his goodbye as the blonde man guided you to the front door.

Nanami, as you’d soon find out, was a gentleman.

Definitely too good for Gojo Satoru.

You’d also find out that he was a collector of old cars; ones which he cared for well, and ones with doors he opened for you. You’d learn he was the designated driver for all the parties he attended, as he had never found interest in social drinking, but appreciated a glass or two of whiskey alone. You’d also learn he was very single—the main reason why Gojo dragged him to every party he threw. Which he allowed, as it was his way of repaying his old friend.

Surprisingly, he went to high school with Shoko, Utahime, Gojo, and Geto as well—though he was a year younger than them (something you would have never expected from his visage alone).

(Gojo had aged him, apparently).

He drove you home with light conversation and soft jazz on the radio, a refreshing break from the mind-numbing bass of Gojo’s party playlist. He offered you water from a closed bottle—the expensive stuff—and rolled down the windows so you could get some air. It did wonders for your condition, although it was never much of a physical one.

Pulling into the driveway of your shared housing complex, he killed the engine and hopped out to grab the door again.

“Thank you, Nanami… you really didn’t have to do that.”

He raised a hand, stopping the thought.

“It was my pleasure. Thank you for the excuse to get some air; I don’t know if I would’ve survived otherwise.”

He smiled, soft and genuine, as he helped you up the steps. Unneeded, but appreciated. You didn’t have the heart to shoo him away.

“I wish we could have met under better circumstances,” he breathed as you reached the front door, fumbling for your keys.

“Me too… would you like to come in for some tea, maybe?”

Nanami chuckled, loosening the spotted tie around his neck. Business-casual looked good on him… though you weren’t sure you understood the costume.

“I should head back; someone has to keep Satoru in check.”

You nod, swallowing the disappointment.

“But I’d enjoy seeing you again. May I grab your number? If it’s alright with you, of course.”

***

Once again, you had grown a new appreciation of Halloween— maybe not a stronger one than the one you had for cozy movie cuddles with your best friends, but it was something. A celebration of the good friends you had. Of the new friends you’d made. Of the new adventures you could share together.

And oddly enough, you were looking forward to the next one.

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skele-bunny · 3 months ago

Text

"Just the tip?" (CW) Rain/Dewdrop

CW - Somnophilia

Tags: NSFW, trans! Dewdrop, cunt/folds/clit/t-dick used

Characters: Rain, Dewdrop

A gift for @hypnoneghoul after heavily discussing ghoul coochie and dick. We have intelligent conversations, obviously. Short and sweet!

(Divider by @ wrathofrats )

It felt like during the entire show, Dewdrop was teasing Rain. Heavily. Multiple times going up behind the bassist and during rests, bumping his guitar against Rain's ass. Making more obscene gestures, pointing at him. Of course, the crowd adored it. Maybe Rain did too, but he'd never admit it out loud of course. It was during their little 'interaction' had Rain finally felt weak in the knees once his observations were correct. Dew's hand on his throat, helmet pushed so close.

"Gonna ride you until I fuck your brains out, princess."

So, it confused Rain that once they got onto their bus and settled in, why Dewdrop looked so confused while Rain sat expectantly. Waiting. Patient. Rain had started whining, snuggled up against Dew's side, hand resting on his mate's thigh and gripping like he'd slip away any second. Was this part of his tease? Make Rain beg for it?

Dew had simply blinked. "What are you doing, Rainy?"

His tail began to wag at the acknowledgment finally, face lighting up. "I'm waiting! You said... You know... A-And I don't want to rush you or anything!"

"Baby, what are you talking about? Seriously." Dew tilted his head, confusion honestly written over his face.

"What you said to me on stage?" Rain slowly let go, but his hard cock continuing to make itself known as he was pressed against Dew's calf.

It took the fire ghoul a moment to think, clicking his tongue in realization. "Oh, shit— I'm sorry Rain, I was just teasing. Didn't actually mean... You know."

Rain's face turned warm, embarrassed from the misunderstanding and tone. He cleared his throat, crossing his legs on the couch so he wasn't pressed up anymore, hand quickly tucking a strand of hair behind his ear as it got too close to his eye.

"Sorry! Sorry, I must've... Yeah, just didn't think properly."

"Hey, hey... You're alright. I should've thought about what we were doing more clearly when I started talking." Dew's eyes flickered down between Rain's thighs. "I don't mind helping you, still. Kinda' feel bad now."

Shaking his head, "Don't be!" Rain gave a soft smile. "It's alright! Maybe we can just cuddle tonight instead?"

They had agreed on it together, continuing to talk in the back before exhaustion finally settled in— Dew stretching and slowly waddling to his bunk which Rain mimicked. Still, his words echoed through Rain's head, quickly finding himself still chubbed and watching how Dewdrop's back arched while pushing himself up into the bunk. He followed in after, pressing against Dew's back and curling with him, their purrs being shared back and forth. His hips bucked a bit closer, now completely resting on Dew's ass.

"Are you sure you don't want help?" Dew mumbled, readjusting the pillow under his head.

Rain simply nodded, hiding his face against Dew's neck. A low, soft whine left his lips, hand on Dew's hip slowly rubbing in circles before dipping down, fiddling with the fire ghoul's pajama strings.

"Rain—"

"Can I just put it in?" Rain blurted out, fingers curling more down and pawing helplessly at his mate's folds. "Please?"

The lead huffed, tail thumping against Rain's leg, looking over his shoulder some. "Princess, I really don't have the energy for that right now."

"Please?" Rain moved so they could have eye contact. "I-I'll do all the work! Just the tip, I promise! Please?"

The two held eye contact before Dewdrop sighed, nodding and rolling back over. "Alright, just this once. Only because you let me ride you that one time in your sleep!"

"Thank you! Thank you, thank you—"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm still going to bed, though." Dew hummed, feeling Rain press a kiss to his cheek.

Rain pulled his boxers down, settling the band right under his balls, making sure he was comfortable. His hand moved and pulled Dew's pajamas off with his underwear just to his knees, curling himself up so their genitals were lined up. He moved himself to paw at Dew's folds, whining again while his middle finger rubbed at his t-dick. The bud twitched and slowly came to life with accompanying feeling of slick moving sideways, Rain snuggling himself closer and grinding his cock against the feeling.

Staying true to his promise, Rain grabbed himself and watched as he sank into Dew's warm folds, listening to him sigh pleasantly. He stopped moving after his head popped in, snuggling back up with his hand going up Dew's shirt to slowly tweak with his nipple. Rain wasn't big by any means, but still comfortable enough to please his partners for hours on end. He slowly pulled back to hump back in, drooling as Dew's cunt welcome him and folds blossoming around him when he'd start to pull out.

He kept an eye on himself, making sure nothing else pushed past besides his cock head. The fire ghoul kept making little whines or breathy exhales, keeping himself still and holding his pillow as Rain tip-fucked him. Lost in his own pleasure, Rain jumped a bit when the sound of snoring came from his partner. He tilted his head up, giggling under his breath as Dew was drooling on his pillow, cheeks still flushed from the event.

There was a quick adjustment to where Dew was laid more comfortably against Rain's chest, the bassist wiggling some before going back to his humps. His eyes stayed locked onto Dew's sleeping face, cock twitching in response. His hand went down to squeeze his knot, eagerness through each pulse of his palm.

"You're so beautiful," Rain sighed to the sleeping body next to him. "So fucking gorgeous."

His knot was only semi-filled before it popped, Rain grimacing as he bit his lip at the quick release. Dewdrop had made a teasing comment a few weeks ago about how quick Rain came when anything involving sleep was involved—the bassist just rolling his eyes and not believing it. Yet, here it happened. A nerve wracking shiver went up Rain's spine, looking down to see his cum trickling from Dew's folds, his own cock still at full mast.

Grabbing back up to Dew, his hips were pressed down as he started rocking again, a newfound need burning in his core. The rocking motions did nothing but ease Dewdrop into a heavier slumber, lips parted and occasionally a small moan would slip through.

The head of his length stayed pressed into heat before being pulled back, then rammed in once more. Rain could feel his own heart in his throat at this point, hands shaking as the realization of the erotica playing out in front of him—how it controlled him, pressing every happy button in his body. Rain moved his mouth up, licking over his mate's closed gills and eyes rolling back as the taste settled on his taste buds happily.

If he was paying attention, he would've stopped from embarrassment at how quickly he came again. Matter of fact, Rain truly didn't know how many times he did. Just enough that when he woke up, Dew was annoyed at his mattress having a heavy wet spot that couldn't dry even as he held his flame over it. His thighs and cunt coated, completely smelling of Rain and sex.

That, and a quiet plead escaping Rain's mouth at the wondering question of consent to fully fuck Dew in his sleep.

#the band ghost #ghost band #rabrev writing #nsfwriting rambles #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #cw somnophilia

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