#can the fucked up little guy not get a place in the future too? he had to die when blackbeard ended?
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thorasreblogpile · 1 year ago
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s3 better open with that fucking gravedirt being burst through
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pseudowho · 6 months ago
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You hadn't heard Kento arrive home, but moved from garden to living room like a moth to the flame, when you heard the telltale clink-clink of him removing his harness.
You sidled up behind him, a tease in your voice, dragging one languid finger down his spine.
"What's a guy like you, doing in a place like this, huh?"
A low chuckle. "I'm sure I'm meant to be here."
You bit your lip. "Me too. It must be fate. Does your wife know you're here, Mr...?"
"Nanami. And I certainly hope she does."
You weaved your way round to face him, now, sliding your hands from broad chest to shoulders, all peaks and valleys of stone.
"And what would she say," you whispered, circling one fingertip over his chest until he shivered, lifting one knee to brace against his hip, "if she knew there was someone like me, here?" Kento looked down at you, honey-rich eyes narrowing, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
"That's what you want, is it?" He whispered back, low voice barely audible in the moonlight-flood living room. "A little...roleplay?" Your eyes glimmered at him in confirmation, and he chuckled. "Alright, then." You felt yourself tremble with anticipation.
Abrupt and firm, his smile replaced by a scowl, Kento removed your leg from his hip.
"Get your hands off me."
You gawped at him. Kento stepped back, clearing his throat, and adjusting his tie, the wedding ring glinting on his finger.
"I'll excuse you, just once, but I'm a married man. Happily."
"Kento, I--"
"That's Mr.Nanami to you. I don't recall us ever meeting, and I don't enjoy such intimate familiarity with strangers."
"--you are just so--"
"I'm sorry for whatever has happened in your life, for you to have such little self-respect, or respect for others, that you have such ill-intent towards a married man--"
You withered onto the sofa under his cool tirade.
"--but I wish you all the best in your future endeavours, while I wait for my wife."
"You are a fucking nightmare--"
"And how did you get in my house? I'll give you ten seconds to leave, before I call the police--"
You screamed into a sofa cushion.
"--do you have somewhere safe to go? Are you hungry? Thirsty, certainly. I can pay for a taxi--"
You felt your soul leave your body.
"--I do hope we don't meet again--"
You laughed, humourless, face down in the pillow.
"-- good day to you."
Kento walked away to the bathroom, leaving you prone and mortified on the sofa. You heard the shower start to run. You lifted your head, shouting at him, furious in your laughter.
"Fuck you for being so fucking pure, Mr.Nanami! Your wife is a lucky woman!"
A deep laugh from the bathroom. "Yes, she is."
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dilf-docs · 22 days ago
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All Roads Lead To Rome
pedro pascal x younger!reader
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summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!! use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me), pedro wearing a skirt tehee
word count: 3,519 words
side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!
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"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"
Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.
"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"
The young man chuckles.
"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"
He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.
"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"
"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"
"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".
"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"
He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.
"Too bad I don't need you to"
Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.
"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"
"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.
"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"
He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.
"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"
"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.
"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.
"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"
"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.
"Stop being misterious and just drop it"
"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"
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When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.
During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.
Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.
You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.
It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.
To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.
Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.
You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.
And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.
"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".
"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".
"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.
So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.
"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"
"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.
"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"
"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"
"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.
"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.
"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".
You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.
"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"
He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.
"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"
"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"
"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.
"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"
Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.
"You must be punished for what you did today"
You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"
"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"
"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"
"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.
Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.
"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"
You swallow, "I am"
He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.
Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"
"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"
"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"
"I'm a naughty girl"
He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"
"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.
"You were a little brat, amor"
You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"
He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.
"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"
You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.
"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"
You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"
He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.
"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"
You whimpered "Badly, papi"
"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"
You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"
"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"
"No one!"
You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.
"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"
You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.
"That's your punishment"
"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"
“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"
You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.
He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:
"You have to take this off, what if we-"
"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"
"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.
As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.
"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"
You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.
Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.
"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"
You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.
"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.
You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.
You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.
"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"
He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.
"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"
When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.
"You gotta reward me" you cough out.
"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.
"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.
"Princess..." he warns.
"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.
"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"
"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.
"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.
"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.
"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.
A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.
His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.
Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.
"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.
You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace is rather frenetic.
"I miss your tummy" you pout.
"I miss eating too" he whispers out, tiredly. He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.
"No matter how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"
He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.
You're real, and his.
As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.
"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,
You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.
"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"
"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"
"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"
When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.
"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".
"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"
"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"
You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"
"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"
"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"
"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"
"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.
"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who will totally notice the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"
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pomefioredove · 3 months ago
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Imagine the overbloat gang as fathers or like proud/panicking that their s/o is having a child and they don't know what to do
Imagine the gang trying to give their kids a goid life and getting baby fever like who wouldn't because the kid is literally a mixed of him and you and they gush about how much they love their s/o and children like ???????
Overbload gang as fathers and i will start violently sob
I do have a weakness for familial headcanons :) future au time??
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ as fathers
type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral (no mentions of the child's origins), reader is not specified to be yuu, obviously takes place in the future
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I think Riddle is one of the most reluctant to have children
for years he was strictly against them. his excuses were always that children are messy, unruly, his career, his relationship with you... but he was mostly just afraid of turning into his mother
as he gets older and forms his own identity, though, he realizes that it takes a lot of intentional effort to fuck up a child like his mom did, and he changes his mind
I can see him with... maybe two kids
he would never want an only child. after all, the bonds he made with his peers are what kept him going
he is a pretty good parent overall. maybe a little to focused on bedtimes and table manners, but the kids don't seem to mind
Trey and Che'nya babysit often (and it's always disastrous)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
talking Leona into the idea of fatherhood is like diffusing a bomb with a blindfold on. the guy won't even JOKE about it
if you do end up with a kid, it's unplanned, whether that be pregnancy or baby left on the doorstep
but he makes a surprisingly(?) good father. defo a girl dad, he would spoil a daughter rotten. lets her beat the daylights out of Neji because that's his little princess :)
parenting is really not as scary as he thought it was going to be
he has "I'm just resting my eyes" *falls asleep for 8 hours on the reclining chair in the living room* dad energy
the hardest part?
pretending to like vegetables in front of the kid to set a good example
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Azul would actually be an awesome dad idc. IDC!
he has a good relationship with his mom and stepdad (who definitely babysit all the time; they insist on it), so he has good role models
he's not even worried about how it'll affect his career! Azul has a "do it all" personality: businessman, entrepreneur, father, aspiring millionaire...
and he is so overprotective
he'd cover that kid in bubble wrap if you'd let him
but he's really more concerned about their feelings. sending them to school is much harder than closing a business deal
he's a little sensitive, but he knows he'll have to trust them eventually
P.S. the tweels are NOT allowed to babysit. bad influences
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Jamil. ohhh Jamil :(
kids were never on the table for him, even after he met you and fell in love, he just... couldn't imagine it
regardless of whether or not he and his family are in a better place. (for the sake of this story, let's pretend they are. I want him to be happy) he just has so much generational trauma that he knows the child will end up with some, anyway
when, if, he's ready, it will still be a tough process. but worth it
he's such a supportive dad. bragging about his child at any chance, definitely the kind of dad to show everyone the baby pictures without being asked
it gets embarrassing for them as they grow, but he doesn't care
he thinks they're the greatest thing ever, and people should know that!
he is so proud
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Vil had always wanted to play a father on screen, but once he hits that age, he starts thinking about real life, too
he's gotten where he wants to be, after all: he's still young, he's in love, and his career, as successful as it is, is starting to wind down. so, why not?
he is the most supportive partner you could ask for. despite his schedule, he's involved in everything (yes, even the messy stuff)
he's got a customized baby bjorn and everything
I can see him with... one. just one is enough for him. he also has girl dad energy. he's already looking forward to playing princesses and letting her do his makeup (terribly, of course)
he knows his child will grow to have their own wants and thoughts and personality, and he's supportive. besides, if he has another Epel on his hands, he'll know how to handle them
just... gentler, this time
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
for you, anon, I will enterain the idea that Idia may someday reproduce. but there's still a 50% chance that kid is a robot
joking (kind of)
I don't think he'd even really want kids. considering his own unhappy childhood and the whole curse of his bloodline thing. but, like the others, he can be convinced!
I think he'd make a pretty good father, tbh. neurotic, sure, but he's not too clingy, nor too distant
whatever kids he has will be smart, and he trusts them. he likes teaching them nerdy stuff, too (finally, someone he can infodump to!!!)
he probably ends up with more than he'd think. 2 or 3
as long as you never bring up how cringe he was in college, he's rather mature and prepared for anything
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
out of the whole lineup, Malleus is the the only one to have thought your future children while at NRC. daydreamed, really
I know, not surprising. look at the guy. he's practically kicking his legs back and forth while coming up with baby names in game
it was just a fantasy at first, then you became closer, graduated, got older, and...
Lilia began teasing him about getting grandkids, and Malleus took him quite seriously
he knows he's still young (though, at his age, Lilia was already general), but he doesn't want to wait forever. you both have many long talks on the matter
and end up with... as many children as you can handle, basically
Malleus is somewhat of an awkward father (having been raised by Lilia will do that to you)
but he cares. and he tries! very hard. plus, there's always Lilia, Silver, and Sebek around to lend a hand
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chososlilprincess · 1 year ago
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okay last LAST part of Virgin!Choso…part 4<3 (i will probably do scenarios w Choso as a virgin in the future tho but this is the end of this lil series) other parts here: part 1. part 2. part 3.
alright….rly hope u guys like it!!<33
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Virgin Choso, who wakes up in the morning, blinking his eyes, trying to get used to the sunlight coming in through the blinds.
You’re laying on his chest, your arms hugging him close, breathing softly. You’d fallen asleep quickly last night, fucked out from him eating you out. He smiles at the memory of you kissing him, and how you’d said yes to being his perfect little girlfriend. He starts rubbing your back, kissing your forehead softly before moving you, he’d needed to go to the bathroom for 30 minutes now, holding it in because he didnt want to wake you, he wanted to stay with you on his chest forever.
When he leaves his bathroom he stands in his boxers and a white t-shirt outside of his bedroom, he needs a cigarette, and he wants to let his princess sleep.
He goes to his balcony and pulls out a cig from the pack, putting it between his lips and lighting it. He’s really happy he realizes, and his heart is at ease, even though it’s still burning up from how much he loves the girl sleeping in his bed.
A minute later he hears the door to his bedroom open, and the pats of your feet on the floor, walking to him. You wrap your arms around his middle, nuzzling your face into his back.
Fuck. calm yourself Choso.
“come back to bed please,” you tell him in a small voice, hugging him closer.
His heart clenches, “of course,” he says, he could never deny you anything, And he takes your hand as you lead him back to his bed.
“Wanna show you how much i like you,” you say as you place urself in his lap, straddling him on his bed. You feel him twitching in his boxers. And when he looks at you again, his eyes are full of desperation.
“been wanting you,” he breathes out “so much and i…” he pulls you closer by your waist, wrapping his arms around you. “i touched myself…every night, thinking about your pretty face and…” he’s embarrassed to admit it and his cheeks flush.
“it’s okay…i did it too choso..” you say softly and caress his cheek.
you touched yourself thinking about him. fuck that did it for him.
“wanna be inside you…please i,” he buries his face in your neck, bucking his hips and you feel how hard he is. You’re driving him insane, sitting on his lap so pretty, with only your top and panties on. He wants to show you he’s yours, he wants you to tell him youre his.
“shhh i want you too…” you tell him and he nods,
You kiss him then, giving him little pecks around his mouth. And when you put your hand on his cock, he whines and grinds himself into you.
“wanna touch it…can i?” you say innocently and trace a finger up his cock, all the way to the tip. He whimpers, “please,” and rubs his head on your cheek.
As soon as you get his consent you put your hand down his boxers, pulling out his dick. Its so pretty. Long and thick, the tip leaking and red. And you eye the happy trail from his groin all the way to his belly button.
“look…my hand almost doesn’t fit around it…so big…” you say fascinated, studying his dick. He groans deeply, holding onto your waist. “baby i…” he’ll cum if you say shit like that, while looking so perfect on top of him.
You stroke him once slowly and he kisses you again, groaning into your mouth. it feels so good, so much better than when he’s doing it himself. He bucks up into your hand, fucking himself into it. He’s panting softly, and when you pull away his eyes are half lidded, he looks fucked out already.
“cant wait anymore please fuck,” he almost looks like hes gonna cry, looking down at your hand stroking him, “let me be inside you princess please,” he begs.
You take your hand away from his dick, and he sobs at the lack of contact. “tell me,” you say, and he knows what you mean.
“loved you ever since you smiled at me for the first time, i think about you…f-fuck i think about you all the time,” his face turns into one full of affection, “ive never done this before,” He says, and doesnt tell you that not only is he a Virgin, but he also had no clue about sex before Yuji told him. Back then something in his human heart wanted you so bad, and now all of him does.
“ive never felt this before,” he sniffles, “fuck please princess i can’t take it anymore,” he’s shaking now, trembling from his desire.
“shhh…take your clothes off,” you tell him and he obeys you, pulling off his t-shirt to reveal his toned chest, his body full of scars. He pulls off his boxers and you pull off your panties.
“lay down,”
He gets on the bed, And you admire him for a moment. He’s completely naked, big chest and strong arms on full display. His hard cock leaking and stiff on his stomach.
When you get on top of him he mewls in anticipation. You put your hands on his chest, placing your pussy on his length.
He grabs your thighs tightly as he groans. Youre so wet, all for him. It makes his heart swell with pride.
You grab him and place him to your wet hole, putting his tip inside. And hes so big, your little pussy struggling to take even just his tip. You whine out and he stops you before you can sink down on him more. hes breathing heavily, cheeks a light pink, “dont wanna hurt you…” he breathes out.
“i…i can take it, just…give me a minute,” you say and bite your lip tightly. And youre so fucking adorable, how youre struggling to take his big cock, but you want to make him happy so bad, wanna have him inside you so bad.
When you finally sink down fully on him, you both moan in unison. And Choso groans at the way he can see himself poking through your tummy.
You look at him, silently asking for permission to keep going, he nods eagerly. You lift your hips and start fucking yourself on him slowly, letting out the prettiest sounds hes ever heard, It feels so fucking good. Your cunt is so wet and warm. He loves this, he loves you. He whimpers and cries while you bounce on him, moving his hands to your waist.
“you’re so handsome Choso,” you say it softly to him, clenching down on his length. You think hes handsome.
Choso looses his mind.
“fuck baby i’m sorry,” He grabs your hips and flip you over so that you’re laying on your back underneath him, he slides into you again, “need to…fuck i need you,” he whines and he ruts into you fast and desperate.
You’re moaning so pretty now. he keeps going.
“mine…mine mine mine mine,” he breathes.
You look up at him with your pretty big eyes, letting out the cutest sound hes ever heard. And with that he reaches his high.
“fuck i love you i love you i love you,” he repeats it over and over as he fills you up with his hot cum, trembling and crying from how good he feels, while you cum around him too from the feeling of him finishing inside you.
He passes out on top of you, breathing heavily, careful not to crush you under him. You reach up and stroke his hair, calming him as he comes down from his high. He nuzzles his cheek into you, kissing you softly as he pulls out of you with a whimper.
He lays down next to you and cradle you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head.
“i love being your boyfriend,” he says,
and you laugh, your body vibrating against him.
he looks at you with a smile, “what? whats funny?”
you stop to look at him again, “nothing,” you crawl on top of him then, laying flat on his chest, folding your arms and putting your head on your hands.
“fuck youre pretty,” he breathes, and you kiss him softly.
“And youre handsome…or maybe i shouldnt say that because you might go beast mode again,” you grin at him,
“shut up…” he mumbles, and you laugh even harder. “its okay…i liked it,” you say,
“say that youre mine,” you look at him and his face is serious,
“im yours Choso…”
You both fall asleep to the sound of eachothers heartbeat.
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YIPPIEEE!! yeah i made reader say he went “beast mode” sue me. i was giggling bru😭😭 (she said it ironically dont worry)
taglist:
@adanfore @the1exiled @tojicvmslut @natriae @mynahx3 @arabellatreaty @himboelover @saturnlus-stuff @sircatchungus @ladygunheild @peregrine-nation @otomebebe @kyouenredxviolet @dellalyra @bloombb @mimiemie @sodoney
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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months ago
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Can you please do one where the reader is Stan and ford’s childhood friend? I’d imagine that they would both be SUPER protective, and later in adulthood they move in with does to help with his research. Stanley and ford secretly developed a crush on them over time but neither have admitted their feelings 🤭🤭
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I made this one too fucking long as well the to might need to make a part two as not to overwhelming people.
You probably threw sand in some bullies eyes when they didn’t leave poor Ford alone/ and or comforted Ford alongside Stan afterwards bc confrontation wasn’t your thing. Either way it didn’t take long for you, Stan and Ford to become a well known trio in the town of New Jersey, one was never seen without the other two trailing behind.
You three were inseparable.
Ford was the brains and intellect
Stan was the protective fighter
And you were the mediator, the confidant, the person who’d encourage the twins to keep moving forward for that was the only way to go.
The mystery trio you called yourselves as you’d spend countless hours on the beech, searching for the abnormal and mysterious with nothing but your flashlights and determination to make a name for yourselves.
You didn’t give a shit about Ford’s six fingers, you thought they were cool and told him often that you were jealous.
‘Why?’ He’d ask.
‘It’s cooler to be different than it is to fit in the norm.’ You’d tell him as you’d both sit somewhere overlooking the beach, hearing the cries of seagulls and the crashing of the waves against the sandy beaches. ‘One day everyone is going to try and find something abnormal about themselves to fit in, as though they weren’t the same people who’d shun people for being a little different. They’ll never admit that they’re the bad guy and all they want is attention and will throw a tantrum when they don’t get it.’
You then placed a hand on Ford’s shoulder and squeezed. ‘So don’t listen to them Stanford, you’ll make a name of yourself one day and they’ll all flock to you like moths to a flame. High six?’ You raised your hand.
‘High six.’ Ford replied as you high-fived/ high-sixed each other.
Their dad didn’t like you but you didn’t give a shit because you didn’t like him all that much either with how he treated Stanley in comparison to Ford and would often refuse to go to their house when you knew he was there.
Shermie pines however adored you for keeping her boys in line and being their friend and practically adopted you into the family as she would then move her attention to her sons.
‘So which one of you is going to fall for them first?’ She would ask as Stan and Ford look at her with flustered cheeks.
‘They’re just a friend!’
‘Yeah a friend!’ The twins defective words would overlap which didn’t help their matching blushes that looked like cherry tomatoes by now.
Shermie would then throw her arms over the boys’ shoulders and said. ‘That’s what they all say until it becomes harder to ignore what you truly feel for them. Now it might be platonic but what about later on in the future where you look at them and suddenly think about planning a future with them.’
Now at this point neither Ford nor Stan truly understand what they felt for you at the time, they only thought they were being your protective friends who’d glare at whoever from behind your back if they caught them looking at you weird. They thought they were looking out for you much like you did for them as they stood on either side of you like two towering towers.
After all they didn’t have that many friends besides each other form such a young and so having you in their corner made you all the more special to the brothers.
You and Stan would playfully rough house, doddle in the margins of a notebook or write in code that you’ve only just made up on the spot to one, another and just do dumb goofy stuff in your spare time.
You and Ford would read, come up with theories about the things in New Jersey to make them more interesting than they were, go on a ‘monster chase of the week’ type of adventures when you were bored and in need of thrills.
Stan and Ford were your boys and you would have their backs no matter what as they always had yours in return. Much how like you made Cathy’s life hell after she threw punch at Ford, thinking that standing in solidarity with him as you and Stan both threw punch at each other and making a right ass of yourselves in order to make Ford feel better.
You and Stan then tp’d the bitches house and probably caused property damage but if they couldn’t see the person who did it, then did it actually happened in the first place? (Stans logical explanation to why tp someone’s house in the dead of night was a great guise.)
Or the time you had gotten stood up on a date and Stan threatened the beat the little shit up while Ford - equally as upset at the coward who stood you up- was more focused on comforting you and reminding you of your self worth and how it should be dictated by you alone and not some temporary crush.
You thought that it would be you, Ford and Stanley against everyone, that you’d get to live with them until you were old and grey but life ultimately took you and Ford in different directions from Stanley, who at this point had resorted to conning people for a living after being kicked out of the house by his cunt of a father.
The rift between the brothers that you though wouldn’t split from another for more then five minutes was larger then you’d like to admit, and it broke your heart to see them stand across from one another rather then beside each other.
Your parents refused to take him in afterwards despite your begging and pleading that you’ll do better in school if they house Stanley for a while. Needless to say you were gutted about not having your friend in your life that you didn’t take to your parents for a good while.
You did fairly well in school and ended up in Backupsmore university with Ford, who found a new friend in fiddleford and spent countless days and nights in the library doing extensive studies on the abnormal and the mysterious. You and Ford didn’t have as much time for each other as you use to as kids, that and you couldn’t contact Stanley who was god knows where, god knows what and getting into a fuckton of trouble. You missed it when days were a hell of a lot more simpler but that’s not how life worked and you were being told this constantly.
Ford was excelling at everything while you were average at best and while Ford tried to help, he could tell your heart wasn’t in to listening what he had to say and he knew the reason why.
‘You miss Stan.’ He says one day when you came to his dorm for help.
‘And you don’t seem to miss him one bit.’ You replied as you doodled a cartoon version of yourself, Stan and Ford celebrating a well earned victory over some weird lake monster that had a comedically large bump on it head.
‘He ruined his own life y/n why can’t you accept that.’ He reminds you but it was obvious that you weren’t so willing to hear him out as you use to be. ‘I could’ve helped him Ford, I could’ve!’ You cried.
‘But he didn’t want your help, he was on the path of self destruction and he didn’t want you getting caught in the aftermath of it all.’ Ford said as he placed his hand on your shoulder, much like you did to him when you were younger. ‘Stan is stubborn but wouldn’t avoid you for no reason.’ Ford adds as you look at him.
‘And how would you know that?’ You asked, brow raised.
‘Because I wouldn’t avoid you for no reason either.’ Ford admitted and you swore your saw a blush cut across his face. This conversation never gets brought up again by Ford as no matter how often you reminded him of it, he’s try to change the subject to something else entirely with a nervous laugh and shifty eyes.
You knew something was up and hated being left in the dark but you knew Ford was equally as stubborn as his brother, whether that’s something he’d like to admit or not. However life moved on and so did you as soon you found yourself becoming Ford’s assistant and moving to Gravity Falls, a small town not on any map but had a reputation for being a little odd much like its residence.
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whateverloomis · 6 months ago
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Hi! Can i ask for a billy loomis x reader where she gets a tattoo of his name either in the side of her breast or in her hip and she shows him and they fuck (if you decide to put the tattoo in her ass he would def drill into reader doggystyle 💀)
This was incredibly fun to write. Thanks for your request anon 💋
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🔞 Warnings: AFAB reader (she/her,) cheating, shower sex, fingering, roughness, reader has pre-determined interests, reader has tattoos, implied size difference, unedited
Word count: 2.6k
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"That's ridiculous Stu!" - "A dare is a dare Tatum, she has to do it!" Stu countered while laughing. The couple, Randy and you decided it was a great idea to play truth or dare while drunk. Sidney and Billy had to leave early and the four of you got bored. Stu was obviously the one who suggested the game.
"I mean, he does have a point." Randy said and Tatum gasped in disbelief; "Wh- Are you seriously siding with Stu on this?! YN! Are you even okay with this?" Tatum asked and you sighed, closing your eyes in defeat. "Look, I appreciate your concern Tate, but I mean... I already have tattoos, another small one isn't going to hur-" - "This is Billy's name we're talking about here, YN. What if Sidney sees it? Or even worse, what if Billy sees it? These two idiots aren't going to keep their mouths shut." The girl has a point, but you honestly didn't care. It could easily get covered up with something else in the future.
"You're right on that one." You said and glared at Randy and Stu before continuing; "But I can get it covered up once it heals, plus it's going to be hidden-" - "What about when we go to the lake next weekend, hm? It wont be hidden there, your hip is going to be exposed." Tatum interrupted.
You didn't know why she was so concerned. Maybe it was because of the whole "tattoos are permanent" or "don't get anyone's name tattooed" mentality.
You smiled at Tatum softly and placed your hand on hers reassuringly; "I'll be fine, okay? We're all friends and it's not going to be an issue. It'll just be for some laughs and then I'll get it covered up, okay?"
Tatum sighed, visibly calming down and glaring at Stu and Randy; "You guys are paying for the cover up too." - "What?! That's not part of the dare!" Randy complained and Tatum rolled her eyes; "It is now, dumb ass." - "That's enough guuyyss, who's up next?!" Stu finished the argument.
As promised, you went to the local tattoo shop and got "Billy Loomis" tattooed on your right hip.
"Hooh, that looks hot not gonna lie." Stu said while sticking his tongue out. Tatum rolled her eyes playfully and blew a bubble with her chewing gum; "I gotta say, it is a hot placement."
You smirked at your friends and stood up straight so the tattoo artist could put protective film over the ink.
"If Sidney wasn't with Billy he'd 100% be into this." Randy said and you gasped, smirking at him; "Randy shut up! Oh my God..." - 'Who said he wouldn't like it now?" Stu said and smirked at you. You bit your lip in response and rolled you eyes playfully. You knew they were just teasing and joking around, but having your crush's name tattooed on you was a total turn on, and you felt like a little slut with your dirty little secret.
When you arrived at your house that night, you couldn't stop staring at his name engraved with ink on your skin.
You modeled in front of the mirror with the bikini you were planning to wear next weekend and imagined how Billy would react to you looking as hot as you did with his name on you. You wondered if he'd actually like it, like Randy and Stu said. If he'd get turned on by it. Hell, if he'd fuck you because of it. Your imagination ran wild with all the possibilities.
Billy had always been low-key flirty with you, and you had to admit that it confused you considering that he has a girlfriend, but you figured that he's comfortable being around you and maybe follows your lead just for fun. I mean, friends casually flirt sometimes jokingly so you guessed it was normal between you guys.
It was finally the end of the week and you were leaving to the cabin that Stu's parents own. There's apparently a huge lake that's perfect for the hot summer sun.
Your bag was made and you were once again admiring Billy's name on your skin. The tattoo was small enough to peel and heal just enough to get in the water during the week.
You were putting sun block on your skin and the tattoo looked vivid with the moisture of the cream. You couldn't wait for Billy to see it.
Stu pulled up to your driveway and honked the horn of his parents van. You jumped in excitement and ran down the stairs, bag in hand. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you opened the door and walked towards the car.
Everyone was already seated and there was a space reserved for you at the very back with Randy.
"You ready to show Billy your new tatt- Ow!" you hit Randy on his bicep and Billy looked back from his seat. "Show me what?" He asked, confusion written all over his face.
Stu let out a breathy laugh and Tatum thumped him. Billy looked at the couple suspiciously and bit his inner cheek in annoyance. Luckily he didn't question you again, but he definitely knew something was going on with how obvious everyone was being.
After a three hour drive, you guys finally arrived at Stu's cabin and settled in before heading outside and picking a spot to set up a picnic in front of the lake.
The sun was shining bright and the water looked a nice teal color. It was still and quiet.
You could hear the birds and the wind swishing the trees. You helped Tatum and Sidney set up everything before sitting down on the blanket to bathe under the sun.
Taking your short flowy black sun dress off, you revealed your indigo blue bikini. It hugged your body perfectly and exposed just the right amount of skin and curves.
You sat down on the picnic blanket next to the girls and made eye contact with Billy who was taking his shirt off next to you. He raked his eyes up and down your body before giving you a subtle smirk. You bit your lip and looked away only to find Stu giving you a knowing look followed by a breathy laugh. You flipped him off and he shrugged, laughing before running into the water with Randy like a maniac.
Tatum gave you a knowing look as well and you nodded at her before looking at Sidney. "Hey uh, Sid..." You started; "I have something to show you, but I'm giving you context first because it's a little weird."
Sidney looked at you, a subtle smile on her face mixed with confusion; "Yes?" - "Last week when you and Billy left Stu's house early, the rest of us playd truth or dare an-" - "Oh my God, did you kiss Randy?" She asked jokingly and you placed your hand over your mouth to suppress a loud laugh; "What?! No! No... Ugh okay, I got dared by Stu to get Billy's name tattooed on my hip and I did it." You finished quickly and showed the girl your new ink.
Sidney gasped and laughed at the sight. "Oh my Gosh, you're crazy!" - "You see Tatum?! I told you she wouldn't get mad." You said, rolling your eyes at the blonde and she gasped; "Hey! I'm just trynna look out for my girlies, God."
All three of you laughed and looked ahead at the lake. "I wonder what Billy will say." Sidney wondered and you looked at her; "Do you think he'll get mad or something?" - "Nah, I don't think so. Well, maybe at Stu for being an ass and making you do it." Sid replied and you nodded in response, sudden nervousness taking over.
After a while, you and the girls decided to get in the water and enjoy the cool temperature after sun bathing.
You approached the shore and Stu swam towards you like a shark waiting to attack.
Before you could dip your whole body in, Stu gasped dramatically. "Oh myyy, YN? Is that a new tattoo?"
You looked at him in disbelief and thumped him; "Shut up, Stu" - "Damn would you look at that! It is a new tattoo" Randy said and looked at Billy. Subtlety wasn't part of both your friends at that moment.
Billy glared at both of them and then stared at you and the girls.
"What the hell is going on with you guys? You've been acting weird since we picked up YN." - "Ugh, Stu dared me to get your name tattooed on my hip and I did, okay?" You answered quickly, annoyance written on your face.
Billy raised an eyebrow and smirked, followed by a laugh. "You actually did it?" He asked while walking towards you.
Stu was trying to hold his laughter in but could barely do it. Tatum smacked his bicep and glared at him. "Don't be an ass." She whispered, the situation clearly being awkward for you.
Billy crouched down in front of you and you showed him the ink, trying to maintain distance, but he was making it impossible.
Billy ran his thumb over the tattoo and let out a breathy laugh. "You're insane." he said and looked up at you. He was amused and his touch made goosbumps arise on your body. It didn't go unnoticed by him and he smirked.
The boy stood up and towered over you, looking straight into your eyes. You blushed at his close proximity. "I like it, it looks hot on you," he said, loud enough for only you to hear before swimming away.
The rest of the group joined him and started playing with water guns and other toys, however you stood in the same spot a few seconds longer, but Randy snapped you out of your daze.
"You coming?" He asked, and you swam towards him. "Didn't know you have a little crush on Billy boy." he said, and you looked at him, faking confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about." - "Oh c'mon, you were tense as a rock." - "Shut up Randy. Even if I did, he's dating Sidney so I'd have to get over it." You countered and he lifted his hands in defeat. "Chill, I'm just messing with you." He laughed softly before swimming along with you.
After being in the lake nearly all day you decided to take a shower before joining the group. Little did you know, Billy was also in the cabin waiting to get you alone.
Walking into the bathroom, as you were closing the door something stopped it from moving. You opened it to check what was blocking it and saw it was Billy.
You gasped in surprise and looked up at him. "You can use it first, I can wait a few more minutes to shower." You said and Billy walked a bit closer to you. "Mm no, you go ahead. I don't mind waiting here." He said and stepped in with you, locking the door behind him.
"What um... Are you doi-" - Before you could finish your sentence, Billy pushed you against the wall and kissed you. You yelped against his lips but returned the kiss without thinking about it a few seconds later.
Billy pulled back and looked away, biting his lower lip. "Fuck... Sorry, I've been wanting to do that all day... For so long, at this point." He whispered.
You were at a loss of words and in disbelief. He actually wanted to kiss you? Wanted to feel your soft lips against his?
"Billy I... Why? You're with Sidn-" - "Fuck Sidney... God, that tattoo... My name on your skin? I wanted to fuck you right then and there when you showed me." He admitted, running his hand over your hip.
You couldn't believe what was happening. Billy Loomis wants you just as much as you want him. All this time you could've had him.
The feeling of want consumed your body. You didn't care about Sidney. Selfishness took over you and God did the thrill feel good.
You didn't waste anymore time and kissed him again, quickly reaching for his hair and pulling at the strands.
He moaned as quietly as he could and pulled you against him by your hips.
Billy squeezed the flesh and moved his hands up your back, untying your bikini straps followed by the ones over your neck.
The piece of fabric fell on the floor and he grabbed your tits in his large hands, squeezing them softly while pinching and playing with your nipples. The little moans you released made his cock twitch, it begging to be set free.
"Fuck... You're so hot." Billy whispered while snaking one hand down your body and untying your bikini bottoms.
He ran two fingers between your folds and felt the wetness coat them. He brought his hand up to his mouth and tasted you, moaning as a response.
"You taste so fucking good." He said and you whined at the sight. Billy gestured to the shower with his head and looked into your eyes; "Let's get in there."
You widened your eyes in surprise and bit your bottom lip; "Are you crazy?" - "Maybe, I mean... You wanted to take a shower, right?" He replied, smirking.
In the shower, the water ran hot over you. Billy had you against one of the cold walls, your tits pressing against his chest while he finger fucked you and rubbed your clit with his thumb.
"Fuck... Fuck, Billy please." You begged him to move his hand faster, but he was torturing you with his slow movements.
You squeezed his fingers with your cunt and it only made his cock harder against you.
"You feel so good around my fingers baby." He whispered in your ear and your breathing picked up. You were trying to be quiet but fuck he was making you feel so good that you wanted to scream.
You grabbed his cock and started to stroke it just as slow as he was fucking you with his fingers. He cursed under his breath and kissed you impossibly slow. You guys were driving each other crazy, and Billy didn't want to wait any longer to fuck that sweet cunt of yours.
Pulling his fingers out of you, the emptiness made you moan quietly against his shoulder.
Billy moved you towards the see through panel of the shower and pressed you facing forward. Your tits were squished against the glass and you could see the reflection in the mirror above the sink. You looked impossibly hot, and when you felt Billy lift one of your legs to the side, slipping inside your sopping cunt? It was over.
You let out a moan that was too loud for your liking and Billy covered your mouth with one of his hands while the other held your hip to keep you pressed against the glass.
He snapped his hips against your ass and filled you up deliciously with his cock.
You craned your head to the side and grabbed a fist full of his hair, pulling his head towards you and kissing him.
You breathed heavily into each other's mouths as Billy pounded into you.
Thanks to him working you up with his fingers you were incredibly sensitive, so when he reached between your legs and rubbed your clit in circles it was over for you.
You moaned against his palm and came around his cock, squirting in the process. Billy looked down between your bodies and the sight of his cock pumping inside of you while you squeezed your walls around him was enough for him to reach his own high.
Billy pulled out and jerked himself, cumming over your ass.
The water slowly washed everything off your body and you turned around to face him.
"This will be our little secret, hm?" Billy whispered and you bit your lower lip, nodding in response before initiating another make out session.
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itneverendshere · 7 months ago
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school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron blurb (+18)
warnings: future smut. paring: smart!reader x himbo!rafe; ps: this is just for fun cause someone asked me to post it (it was just a draft😬)
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you’ve never been one for academic sports spirit.
what’s the point? okay, your school has incredible athletes, that’s good, but why the fuck would you kiss and praise the ground they walk on? you’re a fantastic student and no one gives a shit. why do they get all the glory while brainiacs get zilch?
the double standards piss you off. somehow academics always take the backseat to sports. maybe that explained your dislike towards jocks like rafe cameron.
up until sophomore year, you’d only heard about him, saw him occasionally around school. it was understandable why people talked about him so often. he looked like he’d just been ripped off a page of an abercrombie and fitch catalog, and apparently – you’d never attended a game to check – he was the best player on the team, playing forward. but, unlike many, you didn’t form an opinion about him until you met him.
the verdict? total pain in your fucking ass.
ever since you two were paired in a class project together, an annual class at that, he suddenly took an interest in you, like you were some sort of exotic animal he’d never encountered in his life, only because you wouldn’t flirt with him.
outrageous, never done before.
for the first four months, it was just him laying on the cheesy pickup lines and you rolling your eyes so hard you thought they'd pop out of your head. eventually, rafe dialed it down and you were able to be civil, perhaps friends. if you could call it that.
wich is why, as his friend, you’re starting to lose your fucking patience. the season was not going well for his team. at all. there’s little to no chance they’re going to be able to win the championship.
not that you care, but apparently the whole school does. everyone seems to be on the verge of a meltdown.
“i swear to god if they lose to standford next week–“
“pope, will you kindly shut the fuck up? it’s just soccer.”
“just soccer?”
you let out an exasperated sigh, glancing over at pope who looks at you like you’ve just shot someone, “can we study? peacefully?”
"it’s not just soccer! it's about school spirit, camaraderie, y’know?"
you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "camaraderie? please. more like a bunch of testosterone-fueled egos chasing after a ball," you retort, disdain evident in your tone.
“you don't know what you're talking about. and i'm being dead serious, cameron’s been on edge lately. never seen him like this."
you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. "yeah, well, losing does that to people. don't why you're complaining soooo much" you sigh, "i’m the one who has to put up with all the brooding and pouting.”
pope’s quiet. too quiet. you can picture the gears turning in his brain as he blankly stares at you. nothing good ever comes out of that.
“what?” you press, wondering if you have to break the school spirit out of him.
“you should fuck him. after or before, don't care. but you should."
you recoil, nearly tumbling out of your chair at pope's suggestion.
your eyes widen in disbelief, your mind struggling to process what he just said. for a moment, the room spins around you, and you feel like you’ve been thrust into some surreal alternate universe.
“what?! pope?" you finally manage to sputter, acting like you're about to go into cardiac arrest, "the fuck's wrong with you?"
“don’t look at me like that,” he merely shrugs, “that man is depressed. he needs to get laid if he’s going to win something.“
you hardly think a guy like rafe is not getting laid every other day, but that’s irrelevant. your jaw drops, stunned by his audacity. "are you kidding me? you don’t even like him!”
“but i like winning!” he whines, all but pushing his books aside to place in his elbows on the table, “and he’s so obsessed with you it hurts watching. he’s like one of those little crusty white dogs always running after you.”
you shake your head in disbelief, "he does it to be funny, okay? he’s not actually interested.. t's just a joke”
your best friend only laughs, a raucous, almost maniacal sound that echoes through the room. he clutches his stomach, "just joking?" pope gasps out, his laughter still bubbling to the surface. "oh man. you're hilarious, honestly, wow."
you stare at him, lips set in a straight line, feeling like you missed the entire joke. "what's so funny?"
pope wipes away a fake tear, trying to compose himself. "he almost ripped a new one to jj after he pulled that stunt last semester.”
your eyebrows knit together in skepticism. “and? i still don’t follow.”
rafe and jj couldn’t stand each other. both are incredible athletes and everyone always gushes about how great they are together on the field. outside, however? not so much. they don't mix. ever.
“and?! why do you think jj randomly talked about you in the locker room?”
“because he’s a horny creep and got a kink for fist fights with undressed men?”
you love jj. really, you do. but sometimes he’d win a lot more if he just kept his mouth shut or thought before speaking. you've lost count of how many times that boy has been suspended.
pope leans in, his tone low and conspiratorial, “cameron practically threatened to rearrange jj's face if he ever mentioned you again.”
you narrow your eyes, “nop. you’re making that up.”
pope shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. "nah, i'm dead serious.”
your mind races, trying to piece it all together. while your brain always clicks instantly in class, feelings...emotions are a little more complicated to grasp sometimes.
"wait, so you're saying he actually cares about me?"
he nods, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "yep.”
“seriously?”
pope chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "head over heels. you’re our school’s only hope.”
your brain's on overdrive trying to process pope's bombshell revelation. rafe cameron, the big-shot jock, actually giving a fuck about you? it's like some twisted plot line from a teen drama. you didn’t see this one coming. but then again, you hardly pay attention to anything outside academics.
“so what? ’m supposed to fuck the mediocrity out of him?”
he grins, clapping you on the shoulder, “there’s that school spirit!”
you slap his hand away, “oh fuck off. ‘m being serious.”
he’s still grinning like he just cracked the code to life. "come on, hear me out. it's like a strategic move, y’ know? boost his morale, boost the team's performance. win-win."
you roll your eyes, not buying into his scheme. "yeah, because my sex habilities are definitely the key to winning soccer games."
he shrugs, undeterred. "it's not like you'd be doing it for him. it's all about the greater good."
you scoff, rearranging your notes for the millionth time, "this isn't some feel-good sports movie."
it’s not like you never thought about rafe. sure, he's a yapping idiot around you most of the time, but every time you need help or an extra hand, he’s always the first one to offer. that has to count for something, right?
“the ball’s in your court.”
yeah it is.
truth to be told, you’ve been sick and tired of rafe acting like a loser over soccer. what was the point in whining about it if he wasn’t going to try and do better? god, you'd never seen him like this before and it's been irking you to beyond. even more now that pope mentioned it again.
at this point, you just want to march up to him, shake him and make it come to his senses. you can’t even remember that last time he tried to hit on you. that’s how bad it is! the memory is buried under the weight of his brooding.
so maybe….maybe pope's onto something, y'know? maybe there's more to it than just you and rafe. and yeah, okay, you're not exactly thrilled about the idea of hopping into bed with him, but only because you’d hate the attention that comes along with his name.
but...a part of you is weirdly intrigued. not because you're dying to be his next conquest, but because you're just done with watching him drown in his own misery. maybe this could be the wake-up call he needs. a swift kick in the ass to snap him out of his funk.
you wouldn’t be doing out of selfish reasons! school spirit and all. you’d be doing everyone a favor. and you wouldn't need to blame it on yourself if things went downhill.
you had pope for that.
which is why you’re standing in front of rafe's room in his frat.
a jock and a frat boy? charming. you’ve certainly hit the jackass lottery. but you’ve been here before. he always saved the day when the library was packed or when your roommate was too busy fucking her boyfriend in your dorm room. this was weirdly your safe place to work.
taking a deep breath, you rap your knuckles against the door, trying to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. it's not about you! get a grip.
the door swings open, and there's the fucker, all brooding and rugged, like he just walked off the set of a sports movie. you roll your eyes at the cliché, but there's something weird about the way he looks at you. or maybe the tight wife-beater is doing a number on you.
you still notice the bags underneath his swollen eyes.
there's a flicker of surprise in him, like he wasn't expecting to see you, out of everyone in this school, standing there and you can't blame him; after all, you're not exactly a regular visitor to the frat house, only when your academic needs force you to.
“hey?”
“you look like shit, cameron.”
rafe's eyebrows raise in surprise at your blunt remark, “uh, what?”
you roll your eyes resisting the urge to scoff. "can i come in or are you going to stand there looking like an idiot all day?”
rafe chuckles, stepping aside to let you into his room, “come on in.”
you step inside, taking in the cluttered room with a mixture of amusement and mild disgust. it was never this bad before, you know rafe’s a clean freak and this? this is not him. but it is exactly how you imagined a frat boy's room would look like—dirty.
there’s laundry strewn across the floor, empty beer cans littering the desk, and a distinct musky smell lingering in the air. you shake your head in disbelief, shooting rafe a disapproving look.
"what are you? a divorced forty-five-year-old man?”
rafe laughs at your comment, though there's a hint of embarrassment in his expression as he scratches the back of his neck. "yeah, i know. sorry about that."
he’s doing worse than what you realized and it tugs a little at your heartstrings.
you raise an eyebrow, unconvinced by his apology. "sorry doesn't cut it, cameron. you should be ashamed of yourself.”
"okay, fair point. i'll clean up, promise."
“not just your stupid room. i mean your whole attitude. you've been moping around like a loser!”
rafe's expression shifts, defensiveness crossing his features. "hey, ‘m not—"
"don't even try to deny it," you interrupt, not backing down. "everyone’s noticed. you’re pissing me off.”
you don’t know why you’re suddenly so tempted to give him the scolding of a lifetime, but there’s just something about seeing someone with so much potential and drive wasting it all away without a fight. it’s not like him.
and by the kicked-puppy look on his face, you can tell he's not used to being called out so openly. but you're dead set on breaking through to him, no matter how awkward it gets.
“see! you’re just staring at me like—like, a fucking idiot!”, you fire off, frustration lacing your tone. the irony of the situation isn't lost on you. ��will you speak for gods sake? for more than five seconds? i spent months trying to get you to shut up and now you do?”
rafe's stunned expression makes you second guess your approach for a moment, but you push the feeling aside, knowing you can't afford to let sympathy cloud your purpose here.
“why are you mad at me?”
you can't believe he's still clueless after all this time.
"why am i mad at you?" you repeat incredulously, feeling the irritation rising your my chest. "seriously, rafe? have you even looked in the mirror lately?"
he blinks at you, his confusion evident, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"you've been moping around like the world's about to end.”
rafe's brows furrow even further, and for a moment, you wonder if he's playing dumb or if he genuinely has no idea what you’re talking about. "i don't—uh, i don't understand," he finally stammers out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
that’s it.
you’re gonna pull the feelings card and hope it doesn’t backfire.
“do you like me?” you blurt out, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
rafe snorts as he lifts his finger to scratch his face, “course i do. pretty obvious.”
for a second you get a glimpse of the real rafe and it soothes you inside.
“and you want to fuck me?”
you’ve never seen him look so gobsmacked in his life, you’d laugh in his face if it wasn’t such a serious matter.
“what?” he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. you can’t believe the rafe cameron is blushing. over you.
you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "do you want to fuck me? do i need to spell it out for you?”
he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and you can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at finally catching him off guard, “’m sorry? is this—are you…is this for punk’d?”
"punk'd? seriously, rafe?" you snap, incredulous that he would think this is some sort of prank, “it’s 2024.”
rafe's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, and he stammers again "no, i mean— i just...didn't expect you to— uhh”
“yes or no.”
rafe blinks at you before breathing out, “yes.”
“okay. so win your next match and you will.”
he looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, exhaling through his nose, trying to keep his agitation to a minimum. “what?”
“i’m sick and tired of this version of you. i need you to win, and if this” you gesture to the both of you with your hand, “is your motivation, then we’re doing it.”
"y’serious?" he takes a step closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious, “me and you?”
you nod firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilt your head up to look at his features, “dead serious. and it’s not just you and me. it’s for the team, and for the school spirit or whatever nonsense pope keeps going on about."
rafe lets out a small chuckle, a hint of his usual cocky confident demeanor returning. "is that so? can't say no to that kind of motivation."
“i figured.”
he reaches out a hand, his fingers lightly grazing the strands of your hair, eyes fixed on your lips. "are there any rules?”
you swallow hard, feeling your heart race at his touch. “no, just win.”
rafe's lips curl into a playful smirk— the money-making smirk that makes you want to punch him and kiss him, not necessarily in that order — as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.
"never would've guessed you'd be the one to offer yourself as my motivation, though," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, "i'm surprised."
you try to maintain your composure, but his proximity is making it increasingly difficult to think straight. "just doing what needs to be done," you manage to stammer out, trying to sound perfectly unaffected by his words.
rafe chuckles softly, his hand still lingering in your hair as he leans back slightly to look at you. "my pretty prize, huh?" he says, his tone teasing as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.
you feel a flush spread across your features at his boldness. you blame him entirely for this side of you. without thinking, you reach up to brush your fingers against his cheek, tips pressings against his skin lightly.
“just win the fucking match, cameron."
rafe's nasty smirk widens into a heart-stopping, soul-gripping grin as he leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.
"consider it done."
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1K notes · View notes
delusionalwh6re · 7 months ago
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neteyam sully headcanons
summary: how i think neteyam would be in a relationship
warnings: 🔞 this contains sfw AND nsfw content, you’re responsible for what you consume on the internet.
he’s aged up too before some of yall even start.
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im sorry but these have to be literal facts…
- protective
THIS MAN IS SO PROTECTIVE OVER YOU
especially if you’re a human, be ready for him to just randomly pick you up or hold onto you like you’re a child
even when you’re na’vi and can easily stand up for yourself he doesn’t give a singular fuck
he will not hesitate to grab onto your waist and guide you where ever you need to go
“neteyam im fine”
“oh yes you are” he smirked at you
you couldn’t help but laugh at your man “will you please let me go? im literally just going to get water..”
“i know but i can’t let anything to my cute little sugar plum” he replied playfully
you pursed your lips and stared at him
“never say that shit again”
when he’s “jealous”
- he has that stern tone WHEWWW 🫦
- like if he tells u to do something he expects you to do it…
- and if you’re the “boy you not my daddy” typa girl, oh trust and believe all of that will change
“i don’t want you talking to him”
“we’re just friends neteyam”
“i don’t care, he’s obviously trying to court you”
“and who are you to tell me who i can’t be friends with? you’re not in control over me” you rolled your eyes
“not how it was last night” he crossed his arms
were you silent or silenced? 😕
-honestly i don’t think he’s the super jealous type
-like he’s not finna go bat shit crazy when he knows he has yo ass locked down yk?
-he’s definitely not afraid to put a mf in their place when they get outta line tho
his confidence 😍😍
- like i said, he knows he has you locked down
-even before you guys were together he was still confident in himself which is a reason why he got you in the first place
- he’s not the cocky type but he’s the “my girl ain’t leaving me for any of yall bums” type 😭
- he’s never afraid to show you off either
- when i tell you EVERYONE knows, they know..
- so him being confident in himself + your relationship = future marriage
his humor
- im so tired of some of yall trying to make it seem like neteyam is so innocent or has no sense of humor
- unfortunately we didn’t get to see much of him (james check ur walls tonight)
- but i just know this mf was funny and so out of pocket
- it’s always them quiet ones im tellin u 😭
- the two of you would have such a funny and just a fun relationship in general
- especially if both of you have a sense of humor which real bad bitches have
- i just feel like neteyam wouldn’t be with someone “boring” or “dry” you feel me?
- so the two of you have quite the time together
- the things you guys say to each other are so unhinged like…
you watched as neteyam fished
the way his muscles flexed and back tensed up whenever he prepared to catch his pray
you have never been so down bad for a man and you prayed to eywa that she never took him away (well…)
eywa had really blessed you with the most gorgeous man on pandora
‘i just wanna eat him’ you thought
“what are you staring at sevin?” he caught you staring
“have you ever had it sucked from the back?”
“THATS POSSIBLE?”
and
you and neteyam were playing around in the lab
you guys were minding your business until the two of you found this thing called a ‘face mask’
it was a slimy, cold and thick consistency
so the two of you decided to play with it after asking norm for permission
it was a mess at first but the two of you got it eventually…
the two of you had the black goop all over your face and of course the two of you couldn’t take it seriously
“you look like a really old pile of shit” neteyam laughed at your zoned out face
“shut up, you look like a sky person’s soul”
the two of you laughed at each other which made the mask crease but didn’t even care
he smirked and licked his lips “you should put some on your ass”
you smirked back “you should put some on your balls”
“only if you put it on for me” he rubbed your thighs with a goofy smile
“EWWWWWW” you giggled at him
his bond with kids 🥹
- now me personally i don’t fw kids like that it really depends but if neteyam wants to make our own clan im spreading my legs IMMEDIATELY
- you find the way he is with kids so adorable
- it honestly came natural to him since he was basically a third parent to all his siblings
- you would catch him playing with the kids in the village and felt your heart physically warm at the sight
- it lead to you having thoughts
- like how he would be with your own children?
- and when that finally does happen. oh eywa.
- he’s the best father ever
- no matter if you have a daughter or son first he’s so insistent on getting rid of the eldest sibling curse
- he refuses for your children to follow in his unwanted footsteps
- he loves his family and wouldn’t trade them for the world but he definitely wish he had more of a childhood
- this causes the bond with his children to be stronger than ever
- he’s so understanding
- your kids are never afraid to come to him about anything and he always gives them advice
- even when there’s subjects he’s a little uncomfortable with he never pushes his kids away
i want him to be my baby daddy.
when there’s an argument
- every relationship has ups and downs
- yours and neteyam’s had no exceptions
- you usually talk your disagreements out since it’s the mature thing to do but when there’s an argument…
- this actually doesn’t happen too often but when it does the both of you just let out that built up frustration
- it sounds toxic but the two of you actually find it healthy to bump heads every now and then
- the arguments never get physical
- which helps because at the end of the day when the both of you calm down and sit down to get your shit together, it’s so worth it
you made your way back to you and neteyam’s hut after the big fight you two got in this morning
to be honest you were dreading it
you knew you had to face neteyam eventually and running wasn’t the smarted option, you knew he would track you down if he needed to
you audibly sighed before opening the flap
he was sitting in front of the fire and turned his head at the scent of you
“hey” he mumbled while picking on his loincloth
“hi” you gave him an awkward smile
there was a silence growing
“im sorry” you both blurted out at the same time
the two of you softly laughed at that
“come here” he stood up and reached his arms out
you practically ran to your man to hug him tightly before the two of you settled down for the night and never letting each other go
warning 🔞: NSFW content starting below!!
this man’s mouth is FILTHY.
- yall think he’s so innocent huh?
- yeah no thanks im not buying that shit
- when he has you pinned down underneath him all that goes out the door!!
- he’ll literally be pounding yo shit while you grip onto him for dear life and this mf doesn’t make it any better
“pussy so good” he grunted in your ear
honestly you didn’t even hear him, it felt so good that you literally lost your common sense
“mhm neteyam” was the only thing you could moan out
“fuck” he let out a long moan as his thrusts started to get sloppier which meant he was close
your eyes rolled to back of your head and your jaw dropped as he picked up his pace
- all you could hear was
“i could stay inside of you forever”
“cum on this dick”
“you can take it”
“we’re not stopping i hope you know that”
“wake up for me baby so you can see me cum all inside you”
“i want you bent over after this im not done”
“you’re so pretty fucked out it’s almost funny”
UM HELLO???
there’s dirtier things than that but you guys can use your imagination.. 😏
- even outside of the bedroom this man has ZERO shame
- like if some goofy ass nigga was trying to holla at you neteyam is NOT with it
- this fool will be all up in neteyam’s face talkin about some “just wait until i have y/n, she’s gonna be all mine mwahahaha”
- all neteyam had to do was hit him with the
“well when you do let me know how my dick tastes on both of her lips”
- safe to say that wannabe kept his distance…
he’s a certified pussy devouring god.
- he don’t care whenever or wherever it is
- if he wants to eat he’s gonna EAT.
- he’ll put you on the ground, rock, sand, table, chair, ceiling, bed, mat, against the door, air, upside down, on the side, bent over, in a handstand, in a split, etc
- he does NAWT care. like at all.
- he loves eating that wap
- he loves the taste and scent of you
- like it’s an actual addiction
- he loves giving and receiving
- definitely giving more tho
- the way you squirm around, grip his hair and let out those sexy moans you do every time he hits that spot
-there’s literally been times when he came untouched to just the sound of you while eating you out…
- he doesn’t give a fuck how many times you cum, if he’s not covered in your juices then he’s not done
if there was a reward for best dick ever neteyam easily got that
- now let’s be honest… are we shocked?
- nope! #bbc
- like everything else in his life that dick game is top tier
- he just KNOWS what to do with it
- you never worry about him not hitting those spots because he does every single time 😫
- he can’t help but laugh at how you act on it too
- the way you let out a breathy moan as he slides into you
- the way you throw your head back when he throws your leg over his shoulder to thrust deeper inside you
- the way you had tears streaming down your face when riding him because he felt so much bigger and deeper in that position
- the way you throw your hand behind you when he’s blowing your back out to get him to slow down only for him to slap your hand away
- yall know that audio that says “dear diary, it’s now day 16 without dick and im starting to lose hearing in my left eye and taste in my right”
- that’s how you feel every time you and neteyam spend sexual time apart
- yeah that dick is powerful.
the aftercare. omfg HIS aftercare.
- after neteyam rearranges all of your insides he immediately tends to you
- he basically teleports to get a wet towel to gently clean you up with
- he’s placing kisses all over your ENTIRE body
- he never shys away with showing you affection in or out of the bedroom and now is one of those times
- he’s nonstop telling you “i love you” “you’re so perfect” “my beautiful girl”
-now you know it’s the bare minimum BUT wait hear me out!
- he makes it feel like HEAVEN
- he massages parts of your body while soothing you in a calm tone
- “you did so good for me” “took me so well mama”
- like boy stop before we go for round 69
- you cry almost every time he lets you know how special you are to him
- he literally thanks you for giving your body to him because you have no obligation to do that and he feels lucky every time you open up for him
your head hit the makeshift pillow underneath you with a soft thud as you let out a moan of exhaustion
“that was so” you stopped mid sentence to gather your breath
you heard neteyam chuckle at you. you turned your head with a soft smile to look at him
“that good huh?” he smirked positioning himself to hold you
“yes” you blushed hiding your head in his chest
he smirked “I can tell, i got you shaking like crazy”
you lifted your head up to glare at him “alright now not too much..”
he laughed at you as always before kissing your head and laying you back down on his chest. the two of you just soaked in each other’s presence. one of the favorite parts of your day.
actually it was your favorite
as you listened to his heart beat, you felt it pick up like he was thinking about something to make his heart race
you traced hearts on his chest “you okay love?”
“yeah” he said after a while
“don’t lie to me” you slid your hand up and down his abs
he stiffened as you did that before speaking up
“i think i just fell more in love with you”
you froze
“no, i know i just fell more in love with you”
you lifted your head up to understand what he was talking about
“i just fell more in love with you too” you smiled
he smiled “you don’t understand how perfect you are. i swear i want this forever. you always make me feel at home, you are my home. you’re the reason my heart keeps beating. i couldn’t have asked eywa for a better woman. honestly i didn’t even have to ask, she just sent you to me. which is how i know we’re meant to be”
a tear fell down your eye as he moved the hair from out of your face
you jumped up to put your entire body over him
he let out a short laugh as he happily opened his arms for you to take you in. the two of you made eye contact
the type of eye contact that can make you fall in love all over again
“i love you” he gave you the most cutest face ever
“i love you more” your pupils dilated
that’s when a hard smack land on your ass
“OH HELL NAH”
“we talked about that”
you rolled your eyes
“roll em again and see what happens” he tightened his grip on your hips
“what are you gonna do?” you teased
“give you something that will really make your eyes roll back”
you giggled and placed kisses all over his face
“seriously though, i love you more”
“y/n stop fucking playing with me”
“what did i do?”
“you know what, i love YOU more”
“no”
“yes”
“NO”
“i can do this all night baby”
- and the two of you went back and forth for a while before you eventually gave up realizing neteyam wasn’t gonna let it go
- you let him think he was right even though you knew the truth
- men smh
- you both went to sleep cuddling and kissing all throughout the night
- you couldn’t have asked for a man better than neteyam sully because there simply wasn’t one.
THATS MY MANNNNNNNNNNN
okay so i thought this was a pretty cute and decent place to stop 🥹
in my next life i will be neteyam’s wife. idc what it takes.
these are some of MY headcanons, you don’t have to agree! but i would like to hear some of yours
should i do lo’ak next? 😜
love, liana
1K notes · View notes
a1ecmcdowell · 27 days ago
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dean winchester x angel!reader — innocence is a virtue.
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or, how on earth is he supposed to corrupt you? you? or, dean's newest passenger princess is killing him slowly and violently.
cw, fluff but with sexual elements. mostly fluffy though. reckless driving DO NOTTT do this!! professionals only!! dirty minded!dean. honestly just horny!dean really. innuendos galore.
word count : 2.9k
notes, guys can i be so honest i have not even gotten to the seasons where angels come into spn. this is all based on the lil bits n pieces i know of the future stuff ok. ik i'm a fraud but BE GENTLE IF IT'S OOC OR ANYTHING < /3
req. by anon & in honor of kas's dean & angel fics bc i LOVEEE them
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dean, honestly, had never met someone quite like you. when he'd told cas in passing that he was about the most naive, innocent thing he'd ever met, all he did was give him one of those looks he reserved only for dean. he thought, then, that it was just because he was being a bit of a shithead, and cas was telling him without telling him so.
very quickly, he found out how wrong he was about both of his assessments.
the day you came down to earth and graced everyone, literally, with your presence, dean was smitten. never before had he met someone so sweet. so honestly pure. until you, he thought that purity was nothing but an ideology based on impossible feats. a pipe dream and a half for the faithful. no, the reality was that he just hadn't met you yet.
sam was pouring himself into research, too focused to realize that dean was all but whittling away in his starvation, so when he offered to go grab some cheap shit from the diner a few minutes from the motel, all he got in response was a mumble of agreement and a wave of his hand from him.
but you, who'd been sitting on the motel bed, stiff as if you had something stuck up your ass holding you in place, turned to him and asked to come with. that struck dean off kilter immediately, because he hadn't been asked for anything in a long ass while. sam just usually assumed he'd be writing shotgun wherever they went. john — no, he'd never ask his son anything, usually buried that sentiment in harsh demands and orders. cas asked him lots of questions, but permission was not often one of them.
and when he looked at you, read over your features and saw the genuineness in your wide, expectant eyes... god, how could he say no?
so you sat there in the passenger seat. dean had to buckle you in with a joke that flew right over your head — another joke you would not get, even though he was fucking killing it with them right now — about not wanting to send you flying if they got into a wreck.
you proceeded to unbuckle and buckle and unbuckle again a few times, seemingly fascinated with the click of the mechanism. dean wanted to be annoyed. genuinely. if sam had started pulling this shit, dean would have pulled over and drove a few feet ahead as a warning to cut it the fuck out.
but with you, it was adorable in its own right. god, it was! somehow it surprised you, every time it clicked, even if you'd already done it eight times. like, how did anyone expect him to get pissy at you when you were doing those sharp, surprised gasps every few seconds? a few more times and he'd be pulling over to give you something to gasp at, he thought idly.
and then winced, scrunching up his face, when he realized how deep in the gutter his head was. no, he wouldn't touch you. wouldn't even try to plant that idea in your pretty little head.
dean didn't want to corrupt you. if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he wanted to keep that pretty little head as clear as his nose was, alright? he wasn't going to be the one to break you into what this world was, its hardships and its cruelties — and its more deviant pleasures.
but fuck, you made it so hard to keep his head straight.
you did this thing, he realized too, on that silent, clicky drive, where you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth when you were in deep thought. thought about what, fuck if he knew, because if you said something to him in the moments that he watched you do it, he'd never know. he was watching your mouth but not to listen.
dean was about to start reprimanding himself in his head, for what must have been the third time already, when you said something, nearly making him slam on the brakes in his surprise.
"how are you doing this?" you asked, as if that wasn't the vaguest question he'd heard in his entire life.
dean blinked a couple of times as he waited for elaboration that never came. he switched hands on the steering wheel, resting his right loosely over the gearstick. "doing..." he trailed off, shaking his head slowly in a gesture to make you keep talking, "what, exactly?"
you did not catch the hint, and he was probably a fool for expecting you to. it took a few more seconds of you staring very intently at his thighs for you to speak up, and by then, he was fucking squirming in his leather seat, trying to not let it get to either of his heads that you were so blatantly staring at his dick.
"this," you answered, twinges of frustration evident in your tone. he couldn't blame you. he was getting frustrated in this car ride, too. "making it move."
christ. he was going to hell. he was going to hell again, this time because of his own drifting thoughts.
"you're gonna have to be a little more clear, dove," he managed through his teeth, voice strained, "'cause i don't think we are on the same train of thought right now."
another blink, and another few seconds pass. your hand shot up in his direction and he flinched, honestly flinched, convinced from the filthy thoughts circling in his head that you were about to grab him by the—
"this," you repeated, and he almost bristled at the attitude, almost told you off about virtues or whatever, when he finally got it. your arm stuck out in gesture to his legs, which pushed the gas pedal and rested against the doorframe, as he drove.
dean closed his eyes briefly, metaphorically swapping his metaphorical wrist for his headspace. he was not, was not, the person that should be introducing you to this world.
dean shifted again, bringing his left leg closer to the leather seat as he readjusted into more of a comfortable position. he hadn't even realized how tense he'd gotten on this short car ride until now. he was as straight backed as you were, and breathing just as slow. "driving?" he asked anyways, like an idiot.
"driving..." you repeated, like the word was as fascinating to you as the process was. "how?"
the diner sign was right there. it was teal and glowed, retro in style, announcing benny's bistro as open.
he drove past it.
dean knew that you did not sign up for a driver's ed course with him with your question, knew even more that he was risking his baby for a pathetic attempt at flirting with someone who did not even know the definition of the word, but to hell with it. you'd asked to come along with him, and therefore placed yourself in his hands for his guidance. the least he could do was make some sort of effort, couldn't he?
"c'mere," he grumbled once he'd pulled baby off into an unassuming back road, parking it dead in the center. you'd need all the open space. he patted his spread thighs a couple of times.
your stupidly pretty pink lips sucked into your stupidly straight teeth. fuck. "why?"
"just—" he cut himself off when he realized he was about to get snippy. you didn't deserve snippy. he was just hungry and horny and you were pretty and he was...
he was pathetic. looking for reasons to get you into his lap. he'd already been to hell, what are they gonna do, drag him back by his ear?
"just do it," dean finished on a sigh, his hand dropping to the front of his leather seat, grabbing the handle and shoving the seat back as far as it could go. there you were, staring at his dick again, making him feel hotter and more bothered.
he felt his heart stop solidly in his chest when you started to climb over the middle console, so oblivious to the faceful of ass he was getting. dean was practically praying to god at that point. he knew he'd been a shit until then, and definitely a sinner by every means, but if he could grant him a little fucking strength—
you plopped your happy little ass right between his muscular, jean-clad thighs. you were warm, was his first thought. he was screwed, was his second.
"what now?" you asked him, that innocent lilt to your voice as you did, and he felt like a dirty little freak for wanting to bend you over the steering wheel moments before ( who was he kidding? for still wanting to bend you over the steering wheel ).
dean took both of your hands and placed them on the steering wheel. once he'd closed your fingers around the wheel, he dropped his hands to your thighs.
"this one," he patted the left one, and nearly went molten behind you, when you lifted that thigh and placed it on his palm. "nuh uh," he tried to lightly correct, "this one you don't use. jus' keep it out of the way." dean's voice was strained in his ears, in his throat.
you slipped your thigh out of his grasp, pressing it up against the inner of his own thigh, your foot tucked around his ankle. you were so trusting and compliant. he was so, so screwed, and so, so awful for thinking about breaking that sweet naivety.
"this one," he said, patting your right thigh, and when you didn't move it this time, he smiled, just a little, to himself. "you use to make it move."
the flush on your cheeks that followed his tease was so damn pretty it took his breath away.
he lifted his leg, not able to reach the pedals with you sat between them and his seat all the way back. he pointed his boot at the left pedal, knowing you were watching each of his movements intently. "that's the stop pedal. push it down to stop." he repeated the process he'd done with your legs, boot pointing at the right pedal as he explained it. "that's the ignition."
pause.
"that's the go," he corrected, sparing you any momentary confusion and any more questions, he hoped. dean could not keep sitting here idle with you between his legs. "makes the car drive. harder you push, faster it goes."
hell, hell, hell. he wasn't going to hell, because he was already in it, strung up and burning.
"i'll handle the gears," he added quickly, when he caught your head turning downward to the shift stick. "don't wanna overwhelm that pretty little head of yours, dove, with too much at once."
dean rested his right hand on the gear stick, his left hand gripping the handle on the driver's door for dear life. he needed the support; you were driving him up a wall with his claws out, and you were about to be driving him. driving his baby. it took a lot of coaxing from sam for dean to let sam behind the wheel. all you did was ask how do you make it move? and he was letting you drive.
you. who did not even know what a car was. who was learning how to drive literally that moment.
god help him. he'd prayed more in this fifteen minute drive than he had in years.
you pressed down on the gas pedal, and the car revved all pretty and loud. dean watched with bated breath as the response to your efforts registered in your head, the way your eyes lit up in that curious glimmer, the fucking teeth biting on your lip.
once you let up, he pushed on the gear stick's release, and tugged it down from park to drive. the car slowly began to move down the dirt path.
you slammed the brakes so hard that his head knocked into the back of your shoulders. "fuck, dove, gentle."
and you were, when you shifted your foot over to the gas pedal again. you pushed it down on it tentatively, the car starting to glide down the dirt road, the sound of pebbles grinding beneath the tires.
"better," he mumbled in your ear, leant forward to keep his eyes on the windshield. it's not that he didn't trust you, he just... yeah, he didn't trust you. "just like that, dove."
the praise, though, goes in one ear and out the other, because the gentle ease of baby's tires along the road is interrupted by you slamming the gas. the tires squeal. clouds of dirt and dust puff out from behind the car as it takes off.
dean's heart went from in his ass to in his throat in a manner of a second. "whoa, whoa, whoa!" he exclaimed, a nervous laughter bubbling out of his throat. "slower, slower, will ya? crashin' in the middle of nowhere is the last—"
you hit the brakes again, still hard but less this time. just enough to send his head knocking into your shoulder again as the car slowed.
slowed, but still headed toward the ditch. "right, see your hands?" he asked, chin nuzzling into the plush spot between your neck and your shoulder so he could see better. "twist 'em. nice n' gentle for me, to your left, yeah, good girl. makes the whole car move, yeah? jus' keep it on the dirt, not off "
you follow his instructions, and dean feels a swell of pride at this. maybe he should have gone into driver's ed or some shit. he was a good ass teacher.
"like this?" you asked, drawing him out of his self glazing. your voice, soft and hesitant, breathless with your excitement, has his chest heaving.
"yeah, dove, jus' like that," he rasped, his left hand moving from the doorframe to rest where your thigh met your hips. the car kept its slow pace down the long dirt road, and for the first time since you'd gotten your hands on the wheel, his heart doesn't feel like it's pounding in his throat. "no, no, don't stop. keep goin', you're doing so good for me."
his phone starts to buzz in his pocket, and like that, his self indulgent driver's ed lesson comes to a screeching halt. "you jus' keep on going like this, alright?" he asked you, patting your hip with his hand before he reluctantly let go.
he definitely answered the phone with more attitude than necessary. couldn't help it. he was having a great time. "what, sam?"
"everything alright?" sam asked, and then dean felt like a prickhead for giving him shit at all. "s'been thirty minutes."
dean sighed, his eyes lifting again to look out the front windshield. a stop sign was quickly approaching, and you didn't even need his guidance for that. you were slowing to a stop all on your own. he was so fucking proud, it was sick. "all good. long line at the burger place."
it was dead empty, four miles back.
"we'll be back in a few, alright? chew on one of your books or somethin' while you wait, make 'em useful."
"dean—"
he hung up before he could hear sam's sighed response.
his hand fell to your waist again, squeezing lightly to stop you from lifting your foot off of the brake just yet. "play time's over. calvary's callin' us back."
dean pushed the gear stick into park again before he moved both of his hands to your hips, helping guide you back into the passenger seat.
he adjusted the seat again, his hands finding their typical place on the wheel. he did a very illegal u-turn at the four-way intersection and headed back down the road that you'd driven him down.
"have fun?" he asked after a beat, eyes flicking over to see you. you looked so pretty in the orange glow of the sunset, your face lit up in deep gold.
you turned to meet his eyes, and he had to look away quickly, the bright glimmer of adrenaline in them knocking all the wind out of him. "yes."
"good." dean meant it. there were so few things he'd risk everything for, but that toothy smile of yours jumped to the top of that list.
"dean?" your voice rung out again, earning him another glance your way in acknowledgement. "what part of the car was in my back the whole time?"
dean faltered, eyes blinking in a bout of surprise and lips parting, searching for a response he did not have. his eyes dropped down to his lap for a second, dread and embarrassment pooling like ice water in his stomach at what he hoped wasn't— yeah. yeah, it was.
"i dunno, dove," he mumbled through his teeth, staring straight ahead, fingers tapping on the steering wheel, doing basically anything to not meet that curious look of yours. especially knowing you'd have your lip in your teeth all over again. "might have t'take it to the shop, while we're in town... get it checked out or somethin'..."
he was so damn screwed.
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tags, @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4nicholas @deanswidow @deansbite
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rafeskiss · 22 days ago
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juno ! ᥫ᭡
pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader
word count: 980
summary: boat days with rafey make you so fucking horny<333 based on the song ‘juno’ by sabrina carpenter
warnings: no actual smut, use of y/n, mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, probably more i dont fucking know
authors note: IM BAAAACK! bringing back the short n’ sweet inspired rafe fics
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boat days with rafe were your favorite days. you didn’t have to be sexual with rafe to have fun together, and you guys had your own way of showing appreciation— which, of course, included sex some days, but you also just got each other.
your love for each other was showcased best on the druthers on hot and sticky summer afternoons. you’d be tanning and feel a lack of warmth for a second, opening your eyes to see rafe towering over you, blocking the sun. a fruity seltzer in his hand, he’d hand it to you and you’d continue tanning. you didn’t ever have to tell him what you were thinking, he just gets it.
or he’d let you apply sunscreen on him— this was a rarity. he claimed he didn’t care if he got burnt or not, and you’d always reply with something along the lines of ‘you will care when you get skin cancer in 20 years!’ so you’d stand on your tippy toes, rubbing the white substance on his face, chest, back, arms, and legs until you saw fit. this was also a perfect excuse to feel him up. you hated his father, ward, for giving him life-long daddy issues but this was one of the only times you’d thank him. God bless his dad’s genetics, because rafe cameron is one sight to see and feel under the north carolina heat. beads of sweat dotting his face and chest, small freckles appearing on his nose and how gorgeous he looked driving the boat.
today was one of those days; you in a tiny pink bikini and rafe looking particularly fuckable edible hot pretty. you watched as he steered the boat towards wherever the hell he was taking you, his grip on the steering wheel showing off his toned, muscular arms. you just about melted in your sun chair rafe layed out for you.
it was days like this where you seemed to be so in love you’d do just about anything for him. rafe was too busy steering the boat, leaving you alone in your thoughts as you soaked up the vitamin d. you often thought about your future with rafe, and rafe doesn’t talk about the future rarely ever, but you knew he’d want your touch for life. he hasn’t and probably won’t ever come out and directly say he wants to spend forever with you, but his words always allude to it.
you never take the things he says during sex seriously; he’s always grunting about putting a baby in you or telling you to never ever leave him— you wouldn’t dare— but you wonder if he really truly means it. however, this doesn’t stop you from hinting at the fact you would like this all to become a reality. he’d be picking you up to go to dinner and you’d do a little twirl, showing off your dress. he’d tell you you look great, just like always, and you’d be like ‘well, there’s actually one thing missing…’ rafe would grumble something like ‘fuck are you talkin’ bout, kid? you’re fully dressed.’ and you’d stick your left hand out to him, showing him your naked ring finger. ‘missing a rock right there.’ and he’d roll his eyes and tell you to get in the damn truck.
you hopped off the tanning chair and found your way to a mini fridge that’s always stocked with various drinks. you opted for a twisted tea and you grabbed rafe a beer. you giddily walked to find rafe who was standing by the steering wheel, one hand on it and the other glancing down at his phone.
“here ya go,” you smiled and handed him the glass bottle.
“thanks, baby.” he said while placing a kiss to your temple, turning his phone off.
you looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing the lack of a wedding ring on his hand. you frown, “looks so boring right here, right?” you look up at him, your finger pointing to his ring finger.
“can you just wait?” he scolded.
“i just think this day would be even more perfect with a mini us running around!” you declared, looking around the boat imagining a tiny rafe or a tiny you waddling all over.
he rolled his eyes and continued steering the boat.
“like, one of me is cute but two though?”
rafe laughed, “are you ovulating or something? holy shit,”
you smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek, “can’t help it.”
“jus’… gimme time, baby.” he muttered before taking a sip of his beer.
so maybe having a baby at 19 wasn’t the best idea. but there were far worse things you could be doing with your life! rafe has enough money to support you and the baby until the end of time, including your retail therapy and regular therapy, so what is so wrong with that?
“give me one good reason why we can’t have a baby right now.” you said, crossing your arms which only made rafe take this conversation less serious because his eyes were immediately drawn to your tits.
rafe smirked, “shit, i dunno. i will say, your tits would be massive with a little baby in you.”
you gasped, “so you do wanna have a baby!”
“never said that.” he sniffed.
rolling your eyes you said, “whatever. god forbid i want a future with you!” you stormed off leaving rafe behind you.
of course, rafe didn’t want to hurt your feelings so he apologized very thoroughly later. he made sure to tell you that he did want a future with you, but he wants you to enjoy your young adulthood before potentially wrecking your life and freedom by bringing a baby into the world. in response to this, you stuck your tongue out at him.
“see, who needs a fucking baby when we got you around?” he said teasingly.
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TAGLIST (reply to my tag list post to be added)
@xcinnamonmalfoyx @neediestpuppy @ethanthequeefqueen @maybankslover @pankowblues @drewsphswife @wearemadeofstardust0
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bet-on-me-13 · 2 years ago
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Danny is the Crazy Old Man™️ of Gotham
So, the events of Danny Phantom happened decades ago
Like, Phantom Planet was one of the first instances of Superheroes in HISTORY. Early 1900's, just the Fentons were Insanely Ahead of their Time!
Danny is still a Halfa, but has allowed himself to grow old and live his best life before fully dying so he can accept his Throne in the Infinite Realms. He decides to experience Life in the fullest way possible, partying, drinking, making long lasting friendships that shape the lives of everybody he meets, all that!
Eventually, Danny's Party Life leads him to Gotham. And this place is just amazing!
It has all the comforts of Home, with so much more! He can Party! He can Fight! He can do anything he wants and nobody bats an eye, because a crazy old man getting into a fistfight in the middle of the road is just another Tuesday for Gotham!
He decides to spend the rest of his Mortal Life there. And this is still Early On in the DC Timeline, like, Batman Year 1 is happening Right Now.
He hangs around, befriends the local Homeless Population, and mostly just has the time of his Life! And he takes up the stereotypical Homeless Old Man look because why fight it? That's literally what he's going for!
He also unintentionally sets up a bunch of future events
He teaches Kid!Jason on his to steal Tires as repayment for driving off some muggers with a Baseball Bat (honestly he was looking forward to being mugged, it's a new experience after all)
He pulls Kid!Tim into an Alley after Tim gets caught out at night and gets chased by some Punks. He hides Tim behind a Dumpster and tricks the Punks into mugging him instead (Yay! He finally got mugged!)
He becomes kind of well known as the Old Man who wants to experience everything before he dies. He says as much too, not like he really has a reason to hide it. He just tells people "I want to live my life to the fullest, it don't matter if I live 10 more years or 10 more minutes, I'm gonna experience every second of it!"
He once walked into a Cloud of Fear Gas to see what it was like. Later he said it was a 6/10. "Not the worst thing I've had injected into my body!" He says with no Context.
He traded places with a Hostage during an active Crime Scene because he wanted to know what it's like.
He was once dared to take Batmans Utility Belt by another Homeless Guy as a joke, so he walked up to Batman later that night in full view of everybody else and just asked for his Belt. He gives up after a few minutes, and one guy asked "Why not fight him for it? It's an experience after all.". Danny replys "Nah, I've fought Vigilantes before. It was fun though, gotta say!"
...
This got away from me, but all this to say: Imagine the Bat Families Reaction when they find out "Crazy Old Danny" is PHANTOM. You know, THE FIRST SUPERHERO!
I imagine Constantine is having a stroll though Gotham after finishing up some business with Bruce, and just bumps into a homeless guy by accident.
Later that night:
Batman: Constantine, Why are you calling? Is it to do with the-
Constantine: Why the fuck is there a Homeless God in your City?
Batman: Wait wha-
...
Or imagine they know before Constantine meets him, and it goes instead like this
Constantine: Why the fuck is there a Homeless God in your City?!
Batman: You mean Old Man Danny? He's just a homeless guy? What do you mean?
Constantine: I swear on what's left of my Soul, that is a God.
Batman, a little shit: I don't think so, I would know (fully knows)
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nosyrobin · 2 months ago
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What if the superson trio swapped bodys like superman, batman and stargirl did in justice league action?
“Swapped bodies”
Summary: swapping bodies was the worst thing ever to happen to the future trinity of heroes.
Pair: Superson trio
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“Ugh! Catch him Robin!” Wonderboy yells, flying with superboy who trying to reach Mr Mxyzptlk who keeps swerving in the air. Robin clicks his tongue in distaste at the impatient Amazon. “What do you think I’m doing you brute.” Robin sasses as he keeps his eyes on the imp. He was on a roof, readying his grapple before Y/N spotted him. Y/N picked Robin up who “tt” at the male. Mr Mxyzptlk sticks his tongue out at the ten year olds. Superboy frowns, “Hey. That’s not nice dude.” Mr Mxyzptlk smirks. “If you think that’s not nice, then get a load of this!”
The imp randomly has a bender in front of the children, the flying boys stop. You still held Robin in your arms who was ready to aim his grapple right there. But sadly the imp had already put his action into phase as the souls of you and the supersons got sucked in the blender. Mr Mxyzptlk laughed his head off, seeing the ten year old boys scream and get their souls swapped. As the imp poofs away, laughing. The souls enter their not rightful place.
Y/N opened his eyes to see he was still flying, but turned his head to see that his body was holding Damian. Or was it Damian? “What the?!” Jon yells looking at the Amazon male. They had swapped bodies. And Damian doesn’t know how to fly, making him fall with a yell with Jon still in his arms. “Damnit!” Y/N yells, he immediately swooped down and held the two boys by their waist. “I hate this.” “Me too Prince.”
At the bat cave, Y/N were in Jon’s body, Jon was in Damian’s body, and Damian was in his body. Y/N immediately grabbed onto his body. Shaking the boy, “get out of my body Damian!” Y/N yelled. He was angry, confused, and annoyed. His eyes turned red, indicating heat vision that’s about to burst. Damian quickly pushed your head aside, the laser shooting off and damaging something. Jon awkwardly stood there, he felt happy he couldn’t hear things far away or even see through things accidentally. But still, he couldn’t do anything at the moment as the two super strong boys argue.
“If you were a little bit more patient, we would’ve succeeded in this mission!” Damian yells in Y/N’s body. Y/N gritted his teeth, pushing Damian from him. “Right, but you took your sweet time didn’t you Damian!” Y/N yells. Damian flew across the cave, before immediately tackling Y/N. Jon’s eyes widen, he tried to move towards the two angry boys. But with how they both were pulling hair and using their excessive strength. Jon said “nope, fuck this” and went to find the adults.
As y/n and Damian were tumbling around and wrestling. Jon came back with Batman and Superman. “Holy!—” Clark immediately tears the boys apart from each other. Y/N was still feral along with Damian. Trying to claw at each other. “Boys!” Superman yells out. The two stopped, looking at the kryptonian. “What is going on?” Jon, aka who’s in Damian’s body start to explain the situation that had happened.
“We sneaked out to do our own mission for this patrol but we caught this weird little goblin looking dude, can I say he was rude because he stuck his tongue at me and—”
“JON! Get on with it man!” Y/N yelled out impatiently.
“Oh right! Okay but like then he popped this blender out and switched our souls so now I’m in Damian’s body, damian’s is in Y/N’s body and Y/N is in mine and they started to fight so I got you guys here to se if yall can fix this.” Jon says, finishing in one blow. Clark and Bruce looked at each other and sigh.
What will they do with these three.
Time passed with the trio as Bruce went to contact someone. Firestorm soon walked in, smiling as he held Mr Mxyzptlk like a stray cat. The imp was nervously chuckling. “Ah Pooh, guess my fun is over.” Batman leaned his face at the imp. “Fix them.” Batman points to Jon who stands there with Superman holding two angry boys. Glaring at the imp, eyes filled with rage and distaste. Firestorm smirked, “or else professor would like a little talk with you.” Mr Mxyzptlk shudders again the thought of the professor in his head. “Fine! Here kids.”
“Kltpzyxm” the imp poofs away, not wanting to deal with the professor like last time. The souls of the boys went back to place. Jon smiled seeing his hands, Damian scoffed meanwhile Y/N rolled his eyes but smiled. “Awesome, we’re back to our bodies. You can put me down man.” Clark frowned. “Can’t do that sport.” The boys raised a brow as Jon looked at his father. Batman walked up to the trio. “You snuck out to do your own mission. You failed and got yourself in trouble. You are all grounded,” Brufe then points to the Amazon boy. “And I’ll be contacting your mother Y/N.” Y/N’s eyes widened, Jon frowns. And Damian scoffs.
“AH WHAT?!”
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sonicfanthenightfury5099 · 4 months ago
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Slashers and 69
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I've put the position of 69 in my first NSFW Alphabet for RZ Michael and put it in the Og Michael NSFW Alphabet. So I'm going to do this post of other gents that would do 69
Characters: Michael Myers (OG and RZ), The Sinclairs, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Saywer, and Brahms Heelshire
Minors DNI
Michael myers 1978
Michael is a total manic when it comes to giving oral. He's like a starving man going to town on your insides.
Giving him oral is a site he behold. Bobbing on his shaft to pleasure him feels so good
One night, as he's going down on you, you blurted out if you could blow him while he eats you out.
Seeing how this would happen, he laid down on his back as you sit on his face while you go to his erection to make him cum
Michael eats you out as you go down on him, making him moan from it
Thrusting into mouth as he held on your hips
He makes you cum before him
This should be in the rotation in sex
Jason Voorhees
Jason, being a gentleman he was taught to be by his mother. He knows how to make you feel good
When ask if you want to try this position, he follows along
You position yourself. You gave him a kiss on his glistening tip before putting him in your mouth
Jason licked your cilt before eating you out
Nearly there, you took him deep before you squirted into his mouth, and not too far, he released his load into your throat. Swallowing afterwards
Definitely want to do it again another day
Bo Sinclair
Oh kinky
He's done it before with other partners before you
I see him as a standing 69 type guy
Better hold on to his hips while he's eating you as he holds onto your body so you don't fall on to the ground
He's a master with his tongue it doesn't take too long for you to orgasm ripped through your body
Jerking him off before he cums which you catch with your mouth
"God Doll, you look beautiful. "
Brahms Heelshire
Sixty nine?
You mean sex?
Him being not up to date with sexual encounters doesn't know what the position of Sixty nine is. So have to show him
Laying on your back while he positions above you before slipping his tongue into your cunt
Lapping your tongue on his shaft before placing him in
The sensation of his act caused Brahms to start thrusting into your throat, causing you to gag at times
He made you came as he does down your throat
Definitely doing this again
Vincent Sinclair
Oh my
Much like Michael, Vincent acts like a starving man giving your oral pleasure
When you suggest the position of 69 to him, his face becomes red from the through of giving him oral while he does to you, it is going to be an experience
Getting into position, he licked your clit with long strokes before you leaned down to his crouch taking him halfway in
God, did his mind melt from this, the feeling of your velvety walls on his tongue mixed with you sucking his cock was going to make him bust so soon. But he must hold before he could. He wants to make you feel good before he can release
Before he knew it, you climaxed as you reached your orgasm and he shivered as he finally cums
This experience gave him ideas for future art pieces
Thomas Hewitt
Oh lord
Tommy loves the sight of you taking him or seeing you pleasured from him eating you out. But wanting to eat you out while you take him? Oh lord, he's going to die happily from this
Kissing your sensitive pussy before licking your folds
Watching you taking him from the amgle he's at is a sight to behold
Tommy was getting closer to his release but tried to hold for a little more longer till
But couldn't hold anymore he released his load into your mouth
But not letting that distract him to please you.
Not too long after you reached your orgasm by the power of his tongue
After the cool down, he wants to do some love making
The position is going into your nighttime routine
Michael Myers 2007
Oh Fuck yes does he love the idea of wanting to eat you out as you take his shaft
Cause of how big he is, he needs to maneuver himself before going to pleasure town for you if he's on his back
One hand on your ass and one on your head, he wants some control with the pace
Moaning on his cock while he eats your pussy as he moans.
Fucking your throat as he thrusts up
You came as he picked up the pace of his tongue
He pulls you off his dick before fucking you in the Missionary position to make you squirm even more
Lester Sinclair
Oh la la
He thinks you're saying sex as a number shortcut
"It's a position, honey." You clarify to him, "Oh. I thought it was another teem for sex only." He replied
Him a bit more of a reserve than Giver, he tries his best to give you oral pleasure, but he manages to get a technique down
Let's just say he gotten sprayed when you reach your orgasm.
Oh my, that was a surprise
He would try this again if he can do his magic on ya
Bubba Saywer
Shy boi blushed when you mentioned this position. You sit on his face while you give him fellatio at the same time
You had to guide him through this
Now in position, he started to eat you out like a starving animal
Taking him orally isn't no problem
Bubba enjoying this is like a drug
With one last lick you came as he released the same
He wants this to happen again right now
I hope this last one is OK cause my sleep schedule isn't great
482 notes · View notes
covetyou · 6 months ago
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stars and stripes
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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: nipple play, novelty underwear, balls, anxiety, democracy, the pledge of allegiance, friendly brotherly contest, alcohol, prelude to oral sex (m! receiving) word count: 5k summary: Roles are reversed this Fourth of July when you surprise Joel with a little festive treat of your own.
A/N: happy 4th of July to folks in the US and happy general election day to my fellow UK pals! If you haven't exercised your right to vote yet, and you're registered, you have until 10pm BST tonight to get to your polling station - as long as you're in line by 10pm, you'll be able to vote. do dress up Joel proud, and go do a democracy.
I make absolutely no apologies for anything in this fic. not a single thing. especially not that thing. tis the season. happy ballidays, pals!
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As it turned out, Joel knew a guy who knew a guy who could fix your AC, and within two days your house was a safe haven from the burgeoning Texas summer.
Easy as that, apparently. Your desperate attempts to call around HVAC companies the week your AC busted seemed stupid now that it was all a matter of simply knowing a guy.
Not that it was all easy. Letting someone else into your house after everything that had gone on suddenly felt scary, and it took Joel promising you he'd dip from his own job for the afternoon to keep an eye on things for you to feel okay with any of it.
But, even that left an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.
You'd told him to let himself in, though this time you'd given him a key, and that felt like something. For as many times as he'd broken in, and for as long as you'd left your house open and vulnerable - and, by extension, yourself - handing over your spare keys to Joel for the day felt more vulnerable than you'd ever felt with him wandering your house at unknown hours of the day and night.
It felt like something all over again when you handed them over to him the next week too - there was a jammed drawer he wanted to fix, and he said he could get in to see to it before work one day.
Even when you opened the door to him on the nights he didn't have Sarah - his daughter, you'd learned - it felt like something. Especially knowing that that spare key now sat attached to his own, jingling in his pocket each time he walked into your home, invited.
And the more somethings it felt like, the less you felt like figuring it out.
It continued the same way for weeks. Him moving back and forth the short distance between his home and yours, while you stayed safely cocooned in your own, cool, four walls.
Then, barely one month into this officially unofficial something that you were, it was finally time for you to make that short journey down the street to Joel's.
Being honest, the thought of it had terrified you, and you'd almost backed out multiple times.
Not because it was Joel, or Joel's house - at least, that's what you told yourself - but because a "the whole neighborhood is invited, bring snacks or beer" type of Fourth of July party wasn't the kind of way you'd envisioned your first time in Joel's home. You figured maybe it'd be dinner, or a movie, or a quick fuck against the stairs with Joel's balls trussed up in something. Normal things.
Not loud peopley things.
Still, you readjust your top once more, take the briefest of glances in the mirror, and head out the door anyway, nerves be damned. You can totally handle a Fourth of July BBQ at Joel's house.
You think you can all the way up to Joel's driveway, when the nerves come back with a vengeance and you stand there, feeling sick, listening to the sounds of people and music coming from the backyard.
You try to tell yourself it all makes sense. It's a new place, a place that should mean so much because it's his, but try as you might you can't fight back the panic rising as you think of the very many faces that are going to be in this new place too. Familiar faces, faces you'd seen most days as you went about your life down this street you called home, people you'd shared small talk with and said good morning to almost every day as you left for work.
Then there's this stupid outfit you're wearing. The you from weeks ago chose it the very same day you said yes to Joel's invitation, and the you of today didn't have the energy or inclination to think of anything else. Wear whatever, Joel had said, it's just a casual thing. So, you'd gone for casual.
Braless is casual, right?
Not that that was a specific choice, more a necessity. You'd chucked the third bra on the floor in a huff, cursing your shitty outfit choice and lack of bra to fit it, and instead decided to stick on some nipple pasties and be done with it.
All that's done now, and now here you are, still standing like an idiot in the driveway, closer to Joel's home than you have ever been, psyching yourself up to go inside.
With a deep breath of the dry Texas heat, you head for the open back gate, the soft sound of your shoes on the paving stones so loud in your ears as everything wooshes and fizzes in your head.
It's somehow both better and worse than your expectations.
You're immediately greeted by a sea of recognizable faces, the bottle of wine you forgot you were even holding whisked out of your hand and taken inside before you can even get your first round of hello's in. You don't have much of a chance to be nervous, or self conscious, or any of the things you'd worried about being in the days leading up to being here, because there's just so much of everything around you. Noises, smells, people.
Everything, except for Joel. You've not caught a single look at him since you got here - minutes ago - and you wonder if he's even here and not relaxing back at your place on the couch.
Then you see him. At least, you think it's him. His back is to you, locked into conversation so fierce he hasn't noticed the commotion about your entrance.
You think it's him, but you're also certain you don't know of anyone else who would dress head to toe in red, white, and blue candy stripes. The sight of it makes you forget your own outfit worries as a grin forms on your face, and that familiar rumbling of something in the pit of your stomach comes back all over again.
"Not eyein' the very slightly younger model, are you?" comes a gruff voice that has you twisting rapidly on the spot, the smile barely given chance to fall from your face when you spot the actual, real life Joel standing right there next to you, cold beer in hand.
In your own defence, real life Joel isn't dressed much better than the other Joel stood over the other side of the yard. He's probably dressed worse, actually. He's head to toe in stars, all the way from the novelty headband on his head to the flashing star lights clipped to his shoes. It's gaudy, and camp, and so perfectly Joel that the smile that dipped from your face for all of half a second is back, and you're grinning up at him, that feeling in your belly violently boiling away now that he's right there.
"Oh, him?" you say with a wave of your hand. "Nah. He's like a dollar store version of you."
"Really? I'll be sure to tell Tommy he's Dollar Store Joel from now on. He'll love that. Hey, Tommy!" he calls over the yard, before slipping his free hand behind your back. "C'mon. Let me introduce y'all."
He guides you over, hand never leaving the small of your back, touching you out here in front of all these people as if you are actually officially the kind of something that everyone should know about. And maybe you are.
But then, you're looking into familiar friendly eyes, so similar to the ones you've been staring into and dreaming of since Christmas, and watching this familiar strangers face light up so brightly you briefly wonder if his joy is misplaced until he's wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.
"Shit, he weren't lying," says Tommy as he rocks on his feet with you in his arms before releasing and looking down at you. "You are real."
Before Joel can land a firm whack to Tommy's shoulder, Tommy's pulling you in for another hug, telling you how nice it is to finally meet you, because he's heard all about you, dropping in a few choice words about his asshole brother here and there as he chatters to you, and Joel, and even himself.
At some point, whether it's during the fourth hug or the eighteenth, you're not sure, Joel slips off to grab you a drink, leaving you with his bizarrely dressed brother.
"Ain't never seen him smile so much without Sarah around," he says, the moment Joel's out of earshot, giving you a nudge and another fond smile. "Y'know, I think he might like you."
"Mm, I think I might like him too."
Small talk with Tommy is easy - the man's a talker, if you ever met one. He's a charmer too, and if you met him in a bar you might think he'd be coming on to you with the way he so attentively talks to you, only directing his attention elsewhere for the briefest of moments.
"What's with the outfits?" you eventually ask, with a flick to his striped top hat. "Joel never said it was a dress up party."
"Oh it ain't, this is just a family tradition. Dad always used to dress up in dumb shit for the holidays, make us laugh, and it just sorta stuck. 'Course, added in some friendly competition over the years too, and then this," he says with a dramatic sweep down his body, "was born."
"Competition?"
"Mhm. Joel'll tell you, won't you brother?" Tommy says with a wink over your head before ducking sideways to raid the snack table.
"What am I s'posed to tell you?" he says, handing you your drink, letting his fingers linger near yours and stroke a trail of burning heat gently up your arm before falling back to his pocket.
"The competition."
"S'easy. Stars or stripes," Joel points to himself, decked out in stars and then to his brother where he stands loudly chatting to yet more guests in his candy stripes. "You gotta pick. Most votes, wins."
"I've got to pick?"
"'s the rules, darlin'."
"So you want me to pick between you, or some costumed guy I don't know - a practical stranger?" you say, with a glint in your eye, watching Joel's face drop in faux offence.
"You wouldn't."
"Don't underestimate me, Joel. I think you know exactly what I'm capable of."
Your eyes meet in a silent stalemate, the glint in your eye never leaving as Joel bites at his cheek to hold back a laugh. Tommy was right - you do like Joel, some days too much, and moments like right now, you think maybe it's reciprocated, and you like him just the right amount.
Poking him in the chest, finger pressed to the middle of one of the sea of stars decorating his body, you let yourself break first. "Stars, Joel. I pick stars."
With a roll of his eyes, and a kiss pressed lightning quick to the side of your head, Joel's hand winds back around your back.
"Thank fuck for that. Let's get you a votin' card so you can make that official."
⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆
As the evening draws on, you think you've talked to just about everyone in your street several times over, and then some. It also turns out that Joel and Tommy take their little competition very seriously, and always have, if your neighbors are to be believed.
By the time the votes have been counted and Joel in his star spangled outfit is declared the winner, Tommy has sunk to his knees, his hat toppled off in his despair as he hangs his head in shame.
You're still listening to them bicker as you sneak off to use the bathroom, their voices only disappearing when you've slid the patio door shut and taken your first official step into Joel's house.
"The headband swung it."
"The headband is Sarah's, and your massive skull is breakin' it..."
Even through the mess of the party, you can see that this place is distinctly Joel, with hints of a 10 year old girl dotted around the place. From the pictures on the wall to the cushions on the sofa - mostly a rich navy, but one soft pink nestled in with the blue - through to small ornamental carvings on a side table and the drawings stuck on the refrigerator.
You're looking at one - not a masterpiece by any means, but very decent attempt at a bluebonnet - when the pressure inside the house changes again with the slide of the door.
It's Joel, arms laden with bottles, and the headband flopping forward pathetically on his head. "You snuck off quick," he says, dumping the bottles onto the counter. "Get lost findin' the bathroom?"
"Distracted. Never had chance to sneak around your house looking at your shit before," you quip with a smile, trying to get comfortable with the very uncomfortable thing that brought you two together in the first place.
"Then shoes off. Lemme take you upstairs, give you a little tour, and you can use the bathroom up there. Probably in a better state than the one down here now anyway."
He holds your hand in his all the way up the stairs. That something rears its head again, igniting your palm where it meets his, your brain not registering a single word he says as he points to various doors before dragging you through one, into his bedroom.
His lips are on yours immediately - or yours are on his. You can't quite work out who started it, you just know that you're a tangle as your hands roam each other, biting and licking kisses into each others mouths. His hand finds your ass, and you're moaning as he presses you forward, into him, and the soft lump in his pants. You want to grind yourself against him, but the angle isn't right, and a nagging forgotten thing is worming through your brain when Joel pushes your bodies together once more.
Oh. Right. You remember now.
"Joel - mmph - Joel," you say with urgency through his kisses. He pulls back, searching your face with panic and a pinched brow. "I really gotta pee."
With a kiss to your forehead he lets you go, pushing you toward his ensuite. When you exit a few minutes later, he's exactly where you left him, stood with his hands in his pockets, looking sheepish as he possibly ever could.
"I'm glad you came," he says, looking at you and setting that something off roaring through your body again.
"Me too. I... I've had a nice time."
"Just wanted you to know I didn't invite you here just for, y'know," he says, with a gesture to his bed. "Didn't bring you in here for it either. Just, sorta missed you. Not used to not bein' alone with you. It's weird sharin' you."
You don't want to remind him you've barely left each others sides all night. You don't want to draw too much attention to the something, just in case you scare it away.
"Damn. Got nothing for me? Nothing at all?" you joke instead.
"Got nothin'. Nothin' planned anyway," he says with a look around the room, his eyes focussing briefly on a drawer before flicking back to you.
Really, you should be leaving space between you and Joel. Space for the something to flourish, space that is just enough to not magnetize your body to his, smashing yourselves together and turning the nothing into something. What you should do doesn't have the power to stop your feet from slowly pulling you toward him again though. And it doesn't stop you from putting both your hands on his chest when you finally reach him.
"No? Got no magic tricks up your sleeve? I was hoping for a wand or a rabbit or somethin', you do look like you ran away from the circus."
"I'll have you know this shirt is the finest polyester you can find at Party City."
"Mm, sounds sweaty."
"Like you wouldn't believe."
"So you're sweaty and gross, and you have nothing to wow me with? I'm starting to wonder why you invited me." Which is a lie. You know why, and so does he, and you're glad for it, even if it still frightens you to think about it too much. You suspect he knows an awful lot more about you than you've told him. He's perceptive like that.
"Maybe I'm retractin' your invite."
"You wouldn't."
"No?"
"What if I've got a little something for you instead, am I still invited now?"
Joel's eyes light up and soften all at once, turning so bright and sparkling you think he might cry. It's not exactly that you've never done anything for him in the ways he has for you. When he mentioned his favorite snack, you got some in the house for nights you spend watching a movie before devolving into fucking on the floor. You bought new lingerie, which only ever stayed on if it was too difficult to get out of, and once or twice he'd caught you wearing the heart shaped butt plug before leaping on you and pounding you into whatever surface was nearest, thumb pressing down on the base and making you see stars.
Still, for all you had done, you never swapped positions in the little game you'd been playing with each other for over seven months. Each time, he was the one who came to you with some silly thing or trick or toy to tease you with, and each time you loved it. You hoped he would love this too.
"You do?"
"Mhm," you say as you put some distance between the two of you again. Space to breath, space to move, space to let the something calm back down into the pit of your stomach and curl in on itself like a cat settling down to sleep.
Your let your fingers glide up your body, gently pulling your skirt for a moment before they coast up your belly and reach your shirt, flirting with the hem before curling around it and tugging, letting your tits jiggle behind the fabric.
With a final soft tug, you peel the fabric up your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out the bottom of your top.
"Holy shit, baby," he says, a whisper of a moan on his lips. His eyes have been glued to you, wide and curious, ever since you suggested you may have something for him. And now, they're darting from your chest to your face then back down, taking in the sight of your covered nipples.
You had made some choices earlier today, in your nervous state. Going braless was only one of them. The pasties too, were another. And then, there was the shape. You has flowers, hearts, circles, straight tape and, finally, stars. It was a no brainer when you'd rifled through the packet for two that matched that white stars were the perfect choice for today. It'd only really occured to you when Joel had worn his own stars, that you were perhaps better matched today than you thought, that maybe you could have your own little game with him for once.
"Told you I was all in on the stars."
"Damn right you are," he says as he approaches, his hands finding their place on your waist, itching to move upward. "They don't hurt?"
"They're just pasties, Joel. They're soft. Feel."
And fuck, does he feel. His hands cup you, gently squeezing the softest part of your breast before letting his thumbs dance across where the pucker of your nipple should be. The sensation is muted, infuriatingly muffled by the feel of the pasties covering you.
"S'good?"
"Imagine I stroked your dick over your pants. It's good but it's not the same."
"Damn," he curses, thumbs still gently rubbing over your nipples, watching them slowly come to life and prickling beneath the coverings. "They come off easy?"
"Like a bandaid."
"Shit."
And you just know what he's thinking, because you're thinking it too. There's no real way you can take them off right now and let Joel have his way with your nipples like you're both desperate for, even if time and the swathe of people downstairs wasn't an issue. You have nothing else to cover up with and the soft breeze combined with the cold drinks and the age of some of the guests here means it's probably not a good idea to go without them.
That doesn't stop Joel from kissing you again though, more restrained than he has any right to be with your tits in his hands. You know from his frustrated groan when you bite at his bottom lip that he's two seconds away from telling everyone the parties over, only to come back up here and continue with a party for just two.
To your surprises, he pulls your top back down. Not before kissing one breast, then the other, then back to the first. You know he wants to sink his face into them, but he doesn't let himself, and he rises from his crouch with a groan and pulls you out of the room.
"Don't show Tommy," Joel whispers to you as you make your way back down the stairs. "He'll say the contest was rigged."
"Damn, I was so hoping to show your brother my nipples."
⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆
Joel's eyes keep flicking to your chest for the rest of the night. More than once he drags you away inside, either upstairs or into the garage, just to ask you to show him one more time. If you weren't covered, your nipples would have been rubbed and pinched raw by his eager fingers by now, just as your lips were swollen by his eager mouth.
By the time it's all over, you're positively exhausted, propping yourself up on the arm of a chair and talking to Tommy as Joel waves off the last of the guests and closes the back gate.
You had barely left his side all night, and if anyone had anything to say about it, you hadn't heard it. Neither had Joel. And Tommy, a clever man when he wanted to be, hadn't made a single joke about it either. All in all, it was as much of a successful day than you could hope for, initial nerves aside.
Tommy, continuing to be a clever man, doesn't put up much of a fight when you offer to be the one to stay behind and help clear up. Of course, he's already gone around and collected most of the trash, and put the leftover food inside, but he relents at your insistence he head home - you do only live down the street after all.
Neither you or Joel get much further with the cleaning. Once trash bags are dumped in the garage and you've both washed up, his hands are back under your top, damp fingers cupping your breasts and pulling you back into him.
"Stay?" he asks, as if there was any other ending to this night, as if Tommy hadn't left precisely for this reason.
You barely agree by the time his mouth is latched onto your neck, drawing unrestrained moans out of you right there in the kitchen now that you're finally alone.
His hands, of course, find their way back up to your top, stroking over the edge of the pasties once more.
"You really like 'em, huh?" you ask as his thumb brushes the edge of one, starting to curl and pull the point of one of the stars.
"Like that we match. Feel like you picked 'em for me," he mumbles into your neck, releasing one breast and tucking his hand into the waistband of your skirt. "Like that I've had somethin' to think about, somethin' to play with, even with all these people here."
Fuck, if you haven't liked that too. Letting him play had been one of the highlights of your night so far. Being manhandled into the garage, giggling and pushing Joel as he clasped his hands together in a plea to please see your tits. The souvenir love bite you'd let him suck into your left breast after dragging you back upstairs for a second time. You'd spent half the night flipping between Joels hands and mouth on your tits, to being dragged back out to socialize. Your pussy had given up trying to regulate itself after the third session of Joel's teasing, and you'd spent the rest of the evening wet and waiting.
This is a fact he finds out now, as he slides his hand down over your mound to cup you over your panties. You both let out the same curse as he presses and wiggles his fingers back and forth over you, rubbing your clit over your underwear. You had hoped to peel the pasties off before you fucked him, giving him full access to your nipples for the first time tonight, but you don't think you're going to make it that far, not now his hand is pulling your panties aside, feeling for the slick wetness between your lips and dragging it up, up, up to swirl around your clit.
Not a second later you're scaling the stairs for what you know will be the final time that day, this time you dragging Joel as you both kick of your shoes and stumble up the steps. You already ache from all the standing, and if you have it your way, your legs are going to be shaking and trembling too much for the rest of the night to possibly be of use to you.
With his door pushed open, left wide now the house is empty, you pull yourself back into him, only for him to slip his still wet finger between your lips, letting you taste yourself before he captures your mouth, licking your taste from your own tongue.
Then, your hands find his chest, that ridiculous shirt, and pull at it, tugging the fabric taught to his body, eager to get it off and tumble into his sheets with him.
You were right about how sweaty he'd be under the shirt when you finally get your fingers on the buttons, working your way down until you can pull it off. He's shining underneath it, the dark hair of his body slicked down as you drag your hands up over his chest, to his shoulders and then down to his belt.
He suddenly stops you, pulling your hands away, pressing kiss after kiss to your mouth as he fumbles with the buckle. In a huff, after a few failed, distracted, attempts, he pushes you away and pulls off his belt before unzipping his pants.
Joel has barely tugged them down his legs when you're staring wide eyed, howling with laughter, staring directly at his cock. Only, this time, it stares back.
At least, the bald eagle on the front of his boxers does.
"What are those?"
"Nothin'," Joel says, covering himself and trying to tug his boxers over his erection with one hand still trying to pull off his pants. Grabbing his hands, you stop him, pleading as you tug them away from his crotch.
"Show me."
"Look, s'nothin. Just another stupid thing Tommy got me and I thought it'd be funny but..."
"Sure looks like you got somethin' there for me. All this time you were sayin nothin'. Don't tell me you're getting shy on me now. C'mon. Please."
You pout, trying desperately to get him to give in when you have an idea and you're tugging your top off over your head and throwing it to the side, brandishing your star covered nipples to him once more.
"Pretty please," you say with a small shimmy, and Joel's hand immediately falls away, coming up instead to cover his eyes with a sigh.
It's a sight to behold. Really, it is. The eagle is staring back at you once again, still bolstered by Joel's solid length and the heft of his balls behind it. What you hadn't noticed before is it's sitting on a canvas of United States flag, stars and stripes covering his thighs, his hips, his ass.
"Oh wow. Joel those are -" you cough out a laugh "- those are amazing."
He's rolling his eyes. You can hear it in his voice and see it in his posture. "Yeah, real funny, I know."
"No, I like them. Very festive. And y'know what," you say, cupping his cock right over the eagle print of his boxers as you clear your throat. "I pledge allegiance -"
"No, don't you d-"
"- to these balls -"
"Stop."
"- and the cock they sit under -"
"Oh my god," he says, fighting through a laugh, your fingers squeezing and massaging as you pledge yourself, whole heartedly, to the appendage in your hand.
" - one - uh, cock and balls? Is there even a collective word for cock and balls? - under Joel -"
"It's just gettin' worse."
"- definitely indivisible, no divisible balls here - "
"You're killin' me."
"- say it with me now - with liberty and justice for balls."
You try to keep a straight face as you finish. Really you do. But as Joel's whole body shakes and ripples, his balls jiggling in your hand as laughter wracks through him, you can't help but fall into him, letting yourself be propped up by him as you crumple in on yourself in delight.
"You callin' my balls Liberty and Justice now?" Joel finally says through a laugh.
You slide a finger up the leg of his boxers, pulling gently on them as you stare down at the flag adorning his ass and balls.
"Yep. You're Star Spangled Joel with your side kicks, Liberty and Justice."
You give his balls a little squeeze again as you name them.
"Now that you pledged your allegiance, you gonna keep yappin' or you gonna prove it?"
But it's too late, because you're already sinking to your knees, right there in his bedroom, a place you both know you're going to wake up in the morning, wrapped in each other as the sunlight peeks through the curtains.
"Just try to stop me."
next part
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496 notes · View notes
tojipie · 2 years ago
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prison bf series linked here !
hii ! not rly phone sex, but sex nonetheless. i’m rly loving this series <33 prison toji unboxing fic coming someday in the distant future.
content: nsfw + phone sex
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the sudden vibrations of your phone’s ringer rips you from the boundary between sleep and awareness. you groggily reach for the device from it’s place under your pillow, clicking the off button twice to end the call.
the number rings again, then a third time before you finally pick up, ready to tear into the poor soul on the other line. it’s a facetime call from an area code you don’t recognize, probably just a misdial if you’re lucky.
you hesitantly accept and tilt the camera towards the ceiling, shielding your face from the stranger.
“hello..?” you mumble sleepily, trying to get a good look at your phone without revealing too much of yourself. the person’s screen is grainy from the lack of light, probably calling you on an older model.
the stranger’s camera pans down, revealing familiar tufts of straight raven hair. toji stares up at you from his bunk, shirtless with the sheets bunched up to his chest.
“you too good to pick up the phone now?” he asks, clearly teasing. the inmate’s voice is quiet, coming out in choppy rivets as his dated microphone picks up what it can.
“toji!?” you whisper scream, sitting up to turn your beside lamp on. the additional light helps illuminate your figure better, you notice his eyes perk up at the clearer sight of you.
“mmmh, happy to see you babydoll.” he grins, leaning closer to get a good look at you. your eyes are puffy with the promise of rest, giving you that extra bought of softness he loves so much.
“oh shit, were you sleeping? m’ sorry.”
he doesn’t sound sorry at all.
“nono i’m awake.” you reassure the older man, taking in the sight of him laid out on the narrow cot. your boyfriend had aged since the beginning of his sentence, though you figure that’s not out of the ordinary for someone serving time. “how’d you even get a phone?”
“s’ a secret.” he muses, clearly finding the situation amusing. “i get to talk to my baby though, isn’t that nice?” he states plainly, shifting to prop his head up with his hand.
“it is, actually.” you mumble apologetically, feeling bad at your initial lack of a greeting. “m’ happy you called me.”
you pause, choosing your next words carefully “don’t you have bunkmates?” you wonder, searching the background for any signs of other men in the dark cell. the promise of being ratted out by a cell mate was one that wouldn’t end well for either of you.
“nah, lawyers said i’m too dangerous to be staying in D-block with everyone.” he states boredly, shifting again to lie on his back with a grunt.
“wh— are you serious?” you whine, already mulling over the countless conversations you’ve had with him regarding his nasty fighting habit.
“pfttt, no?” the inmate chuckles, throwing his head back with a hearty laugh. “last guy in the cell got out on wednesday, ‘s just me in here till’ my sentence is up.”
he stills, looking you up and down quickly.
"fuck." he grumbles, you look real pretty right now."
you sigh in relief, ignoring the compliment to continue grilling him. “so you’ve been getting along with people?” you ask, skill skeptical.
“you know—hah- how i am.” he tells you, clearing his throat before continuing. the screen begins to wobble a little, blurring his figure for a moment. “when have i —fuck- ever been out of line, huh? ”
“i think you were pretty out of line when you went to fucking jail.” you tease, pausing to analyze his hurried breaths on the other line.
“toji? do you feel ok?” you ask, wishing you were there to check up on him.
“yeah—mmgh- why? his camera starts to pan up shakily, phone slipping from his hand. the last of his facade shatters as a pleased groan rings out in the tiny cell.
“fuck.” he whines, “fuck— oh my god. you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”
“show me.” you command, finally piecing everything together.
the older man flips the camera and brings it right up to his hard cock, stroking it from the base up with vigor.
his tip is an angry pink, weeping milky precum down his shaft to glaze his knuckles. the sounds coming from your phone are absolutely filthy, a hot mix of pants, groans and expletives .
“oh my god.” you giggle, propping your phone up to watch better. “is that all for me?” the dips and hills of his abs jolt as he laughs.
“all for you.” he pants, bucking his hips up every time his fist meets his tip.
“is this why you called me?” you tease, watching his cock bob back and forth in his hand. the older man stops to thumb his slit, massaging milky pre into the tip before starting up again. “you just wanted to get off? didn’t wanna talk to me or nothing?”
“no—hah. i mean—.” he groans, clearly too out of it to answer. “fuck. fuck i’m close.”
you squeeze your legs together to quell the ache between your thighs, content to just watch him enjoy himself.
sharing a room with 4 other people means little to no time alone, that much you knew from your visits. it wasn’t rare for him to pitch a tent during your supervised phone calls, squeezing his cock behind a glass barrier while you gushed about your day.
a hearty groan knocks your train of thought loose as ropes of cum stream down his knuckles and onto the sheets. you watch in awe as he milks his dick, slapping it onto his stomach for the added simulation.
you wait until his breaths even out to speak, watching him grab a towel from off camera to clean himself up.
“feel better?” you ask, so badly wishing you were there to kiss him in the midst of his afterglow.
“so much better.” he sighs, shifting to lay on his side again.
“they definitely heard you. i mean those rooms don’t have doors right?”
“of course they fucking have doors.” he grumbles, clearly embarrassed at the thought of getting caught dick-in-hand.
“did you..” he trails off, rubbing his eyes with a soft yawn.
“too tired.” you state plainly, shifting the focus from your pleasure to his.
“i don’t deserve you.” he mumbles, dark eyes barely open.
“course you do baby.” you whisper. “you wanna head to bed? i’m coming up on thursday to visit.”
“you are?” the excitement in his voice is adorable.
“mhm, might even bring you a charger for that piece of shit burner you swiped.”
the jab earns you a booming laugh, lulling you back to the precipice of sleep.
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