#meanwhile they're in cahoots baby

[shotmrmiller]

god going on a date with johnny whom you matched on tinder and he's the type of guy you avoid like the plague; jaw-dropping good looks, cheeky ㅤㅤsmiles, hits the gym more in a week than you've done all year and worst of all, could charm the pants off a snake.

so it's truly no wonder that you end up letting him bury his face between your thighs and lap at your glistening sex until your moans almost turn into screams and you haven't even left the bar's driveway, then left to watch johnny wipe the condensation off the windshield with a spare shirt so he can drive you home all the while his chin drips with your slick.

he fucks you against the front door once inside, legs hooked over his arms, then again over your couch, hand curled around your throat, and again, in front of your full length mirror while he tells you how pretty you look taking all of him, to look at how pretty you look, his crystalline eyes latching onto yours through the reflection, pretty as a peach.

then he leaves you with his spend sticking your thighs together, a languid kiss that tastes of you, and with his personal number on a scrap piece of paper.

and that's the last you hear of him. he'd said that he's quite a busy man, military and whatnot, and all in all, while you'd raked your nails down his back on the first date, it had been a date. you require more than good sex to get into a committed relationship.

a swipe of your thumb brings up tinder again, and you match with another bloke not your type. big, broad man, biceps the size of your thighs with a deadpan stare that sees right through false bravado. but he's doesn't seem to care in the slightest that he makes you nervous, doesn't care that you stutter out responses to his rather abnormal questions.

simon takes you home and sits eerily silent with his hands dwarfing the steering wheel as you chew on your lip before tentatively inviting him in for a nightcap, and you must be the luckiest person on the planet because he's just as devoted to your pleasure as your last partner.

he brings you peak after peak with his tongue, his fingers, swirls your pearl with the tip of his misaligned nose. then he lets you be on top first, concentration knitting your brows togethee as you try to fit all of him in and pride warms your cheeks when you can hear his teeth audibly grind as his fingers bite into the soft of your waist once you take him to the root, thighs flush against his hips.

you come undone more times than you can count, the neighbors more than likely knowing his name by the time he walks out the front door (after checking the locks on your windows) and that's that.

until it isn't because a text from johnny awakens your phone screen, an invite to a restaurant downtown next saturday, one you've only ever fancied of eating at and well-

a date is a date, isn't it?

you tell him to pick you up at seven and he tells you to wear something you wouldn't mind letting him keep underneath, preferably something in red. (must've seen that particular number while you looked for some sleeping shorts before he left that night.)

hopefully you won't feel too bad breaking things off with whoever doesn't ask you to be theirs first.

(simon and johnny fuck each other to the thought of you back at base, simon's fist viciously tight around johnny's cock as he's got him drooling into the flattened pillow, almost like she's fucking you too, eh, johnny?)

[wandasaura]

Please please please please go on for hours about Duckys relationships with the friends! Please, I'm begging you 🙏 😢

okay well literally to start, her and maria have the most hot and cold relationship ever. ducky was, and still is, terrified of maria. there's just this dominating aura to her and its nearly worse than wanda's, and god does maria play it up just to see how flustered she can make ducky before natasha comes to her rescue with a condescending 'are you making fun of my baby, hill?'. ducky knows both wanda and natasha are aware of their banter and ongoing teasing, and they have the time of their lives watching it unfold knowing maria won't cross any boundaries. but it does always leave ducky with a pouty face and a huffy mood, much to everyone else's amusement. maria is sweet in the same breathe though. she looks out for ducky in an almost older sister way. if she notices that ducks had too much to drink at a party and wanda and natasha are busy in another conversion or just misplaced from the crowd, she'll take her under her wing, getting her water and coaching her through small sips (which is no small feat because sober ducky is stubborn and drunk ducky is an entirely separate beast complete with incoherent babbling and huffing). she also gives some of the best hugs ducks ever received, so if she's feeling particularly cuddly when she's drunk and her girlfriends aren't around, she's leeching onto maria and the woman is loving it.

carol is one of the only people ducky would classify as a genuine friend, alongside yelena and kate. they'll text throughout the months, nothing frequent but always keeping in touch and updating on major life events or just small mindless things. carol always brings ducklings favorite hard seltzer to any parties they have, just generally being thoughtful which makes ducky want to sob because she's never been truly seen until now. carol is the best at advice, alongside maria although maria is typically harsher in her delivery so carols always confided in first. she takes no bullshit, she'll call ducky out when she's being utterly ridiculous but she's supportive and her delivery is always soft. carol also gives good hugs, but that might just be because her biceps are practically the size of ducklings head and it feels like hugging a giant buff teddy bear every time carol pulls her in.

kate and yelena are equally her older sisters and her little sisters, theirs truly no in between. she talks to them at least once a week, and whether thats just to send yelena a horrible picture of natasha asleep in random places, or to send kate iMessage games when she's bored and in class (she knows better than to send them to wanda) they're always in cahoots. at parties, kate is dragging her around by the hand convincing her to do the craziest shit, meanwhile yelena is 50/50. sometimes she's right on board with the chaos, and other times she's threatening to sick wanda on ducky if she so much as thinks about doing anything crazy.

everyone else just kind of blends into the background. they're the family friends that you only really talk to at parties but you still get excited to see them when the inevitable greeting rolls around.

[wheredostarsgowhenyoudie]

Once upon a holiday...

Bruce (enters the lab to see Tony and Rhodey tinkering): Hey guys. Happy holidays! So, is it true that Spider-Man will joining us at the party? I wanted to know what he likes. Any ideas? What's your gift for Peter?

Rhodey (groans and points a screw driver at the man who skateboard rolls out from under the car): Ugh, don't ask, man. He's been pestering me for weeks. He has a spreadsheet.

Tony (perks up): I'm glad you asked! Here, I'll show you. Then you can give me ideas if I missed anything. Friday, be a dear and show Bruce the latest list. Also, my kid's a nerd. So just be there and greet him like the scientist with too many Phds you are, and I tell you, kid's gonna combust. But if you really wanna make his day, invite him to work on something with you.

Friday (displaying the list in hologram): Here you go, boss. We now have a total of a five hundred and seventy eight items in the list.

Bruce (blinks): A total of- Man, that's a lot. What is even in that list?

Tony (waves them off): Please. I'm just being thorough. They're all necessities.

Rhodey: The iron-spider upgrade, I get. But a satellite? Men in black ninja body guards? A star? A Spider-Man museum? Man, if it's Star Wars, sure. Pete is a fanboy. But the other things? Mcdonalds franchise company? IKEA? Netflix? A condominium building? Shares of SI to be received when he's legal? How are those necessities?

Bruce (laughs loudly): You know all this can be simplified if you just convince him to sign adoption papers, right?

Tony: (freezes)

Rhodey (beams and turns expectantly at Tony): Now, why didn't I think of that?! Bruce, you are a genius!! Tony, buddy, you breathing?

Tony (stares dumbly for a couple of minutes, mind reeling): Hah. Right. You're right. Hah.

Tony: Friday, call my lawyers and ask May when she's available. I need to adopt my kid.

Meanwhile in Queens...

Spider-Man (pauses mid-swing to sneeze): Achoooo!

Spider-Man (wipes nose): Karen, is someone talking about me?

Karen (who is very much in cahoots with Friday): I don't know what you're talking about, boss junior, but boss set me to remind you that you now only have seventeen minutes before curfew.

Spider-Man (sighs): Yeah, yeah I know. But why do you call me that, Karen? I'm not your boss.

Karen: Mini boss?

Spider-Man: No!

Karen: Boss baby?

Spider-Man: No! I'm fourteen, and not a baby.

Karen: Searching for better nicknames.

Spider-Man (sighs and lands on a rooftop): Ugh, just, just stop please. Just call me Peter. Peter is a perfectly good name, Karen.

[gabessquishytum]

wait okay immortal throuple pregnancy gave me a thought. dream/hob/destruction pregnancy?? hob gets pregnant and none of them know which one's the father, not that any of them mind much either way. but hob gets... so big. so fast. so hey, maybe it's twins??

it's not twins. when hob gets himself off to get an ultrasound he learns that it's definitely not twins, and destruction is definitely the father, because apparently he's just pregnant with a shockingly large baby? which yeah, okay, hob can make a good guess about who's responsible for that one. he has a moment where he's worried about telling them -- what if dream's disappointed hob isn't pregnant with his baby? -- but dream just smirks and tells him that clearly they're going to have to stop going so easy on him. they've been treating hob like he's delicate lately, but if hob's going to manage to give birth to destruction's baby? they're going to have to make sure his poor cunt is good and stretched.

-🐈‍⬛

Omg yes bestie!!! Can't believe we haven't talked about Hob having Ollie's baby before now because Holy Shit I love it <333

I'm just imagining Hob hitting 8 weeks and he's already absolutely popped, it's no use him even trying to hide the fact that he's pregnant. He's almost worried at first because he's pretty sure he shouldn't be so huge so quickly... but hey, maybe he's just really bloated or something, first trimesters are wild.

Poor darling goes to his first scan and the sonographer is like 👀 and even Hob can tell from looking at the screen that his baby is massive. His first thought is "aww yeah big strong baby yay!" But that almost immediately gets taken over by worries. He doesn't need any paternity test to tell that Destruction is definitely the daddy, and of course he doesn't want Dream to be sad or upset. And of course he's wondering how much bigger the kiddo is going to get?!

Of course, Dream soothes him and calms him down. It was always going to be a 50% chance and he's quite content knowing that he can knock Hob up next time. And as for the size of the baby, well, Dream is unashamedly thrilled. He's so excited to see Hob grow bigger and rounder with the life inside him.

Meanwhile Ollie is. Indescribably excited. He carries Hob around the flat for a whole evening, just unable and unwilling to let go of him. And he immediately gets in cahoots with Dream to come with ways to prepare Hob for the birth. Destruction is intimately acquainted with Hob’s cervix already (comes with the territory of having a monster cock); it's time to help him acclimatise to the discomfort of birth a little bit before it hits him all in one go.

The pregnancy itself is surprisingly ok?? Destruction's baby obviously inherited his chilled out nature, because there are no real issues aside for Hob not being able to get up from the sofa without help. Having two boyfriends comes in very handy: one of them can hold his massively gravid belly for him while the other gives him a nice backrub. Poor Hob puts up with so much horniness from his two lovers but he doesn't complain. By 7 months he can't reach his own cunt so it's just as well that they're so enthusiastic to help him out. Having Dream’s entire hand inside him is rather lovely actually - so cool and soothing for his poor aching body.

And oh, after Hob finally delivers their huge, bouncing baby, he's doted on by Ollie and Dream. They both make it quite clear exactly how much they appreciate his post-pregnancy body, soft round tummy and stretch marks and leaking tits. Dream is admittedly rather keen to get his own baby fucked into Hob as soon as possible, but if he's lucky he might get a few months off: sandwiched in between the two Endless with his lovely, perfect baby sleeping soundly in his arms.

[iskinpeople]

OH? THE ENDING??

god going on a date with johnny whom you matched on tinder and he's the type of guy you avoid like the plague; jaw-dropping good looks, cheeky ㅤㅤsmiles, hits the gym more in a week than you've done all year and worst of all, could charm the pants off a snake.

so it's truly no wonder that you end up letting him bury his face between your thighs and lap at your glistening sex until your moans almost turn into screams and you haven't even left the bar's driveway, then left to watch johnny wipe the condensation off the windshield with a spare shirt so he can drive you home all the while his chin drips with your slick.

he fucks you against the front door once inside, legs hooked over his arms, then again over your couch, hand curled around your throat, and again, in front of your full length mirror while he tells you how pretty you look taking all of him, to look at how pretty you look, his crystalline eyes latching onto yours through the reflection, pretty as a peach.

then he leaves you with his spend sticking your thighs together, a languid kiss that tastes of you, and with his personal number on a scrap piece of paper.

and that's the last you hear of him. he'd said that he's quite a busy man, military and whatnot, and all in all, while you'd raked your nails down his back on the first date, it had been a date. you require more than good sex to get into a committed relationship.

a swipe of your thumb brings up tinder again, and you match with another bloke not your type. big, broad man, biceps the size of your thighs with a deadpan stare that sees right through false bravado. but he's doesn't seem to care in the slightest that he makes you nervous, doesn't care that you stutter out responses to his rather abnormal questions.

simon takes you home and sits eerily silent with his hands dwarfing the steering wheel as you chew on your lip before tentatively inviting him in for a nightcap, and you must be the luckiest person on the planet because he's just as devoted to your pleasure as your last partner.

he brings you peak after peak with his tongue, his fingers, swirls your pearl with the tip of his misaligned nose. then he lets you be on top first, concentration knitting your brows togethee as you try to fit all of him in and pride warms your cheeks when you can hear his teeth audibly grind as his fingers bite into the soft of your waist once you take him to the root, thighs flush against his hips.

you come undone more times than you can count, the neighbors more than likely knowing his name by the time he walks out the front door (after checking the locks on your windows) and that's that.

until it isn't because a text from johnny awakens your phone screen, an invite to a restaurant downtown next saturday, one you've only ever fancied of eating at and well-

a date is a date, isn't it?

you tell him to pick you up at seven and he tells you to wear something you wouldn't mind letting him keep underneath, preferably something in red. (must've seen that particular number while you looked for some sleeping shorts before he left that night.)

hopefully you won't feel too bad breaking things off with whoever doesn't ask you to be theirs first.

(simon and johnny fuck each other to the thought of you back at base, simon's fist viciously tight around johnny's cock as he's got him drooling into the flattened pillow, almost like she's fucking you too, eh, johnny?)

[browneyedwriter10]

Oh my fucking GOD 😍😍😍😍😍

god going on a date with johnny whom you matched on tinder and he's the type of guy you avoid like the plague; jaw-dropping good looks, cheeky ㅤㅤsmiles, hits the gym more in a week than you've done all year and worst of all, could charm the pants off a snake.

so it's truly no wonder that you end up letting him bury his face between your thighs and lap at your glistening sex until your moans almost turn into screams and you haven't even left the bar's driveway, then left to watch johnny wipe the condensation off the windshield with a spare shirt so he can drive you home all the while his chin drips with your slick.

he fucks you against the front door once inside, legs hooked over his arms, then again over your couch, hand curled around your throat, and again, in front of your full length mirror while he tells you how pretty you look taking all of him, to look at how pretty you look, his crystalline eyes latching onto yours through the reflection, pretty as a peach.

then he leaves you with his spend sticking your thighs together, a languid kiss that tastes of you, and with his personal number on a scrap piece of paper.

and that's the last you hear of him. he'd said that he's quite a busy man, military and whatnot, and all in all, while you'd raked your nails down his back on the first date, it had been a date. you require more than good sex to get into a committed relationship.

a swipe of your thumb brings up tinder again, and you match with another bloke not your type. big, broad man, biceps the size of your thighs with a deadpan stare that sees right through false bravado. but he's doesn't seem to care in the slightest that he makes you nervous, doesn't care that you stutter out responses to his rather abnormal questions.

simon takes you home and sits eerily silent with his hands dwarfing the steering wheel as you chew on your lip before tentatively inviting him in for a nightcap, and you must be the luckiest person on the planet because he's just as devoted to your pleasure as your last partner.

he brings you peak after peak with his tongue, his fingers, swirls your pearl with the tip of his misaligned nose. then he lets you be on top first, concentration knitting your brows togethee as you try to fit all of him in and pride warms your cheeks when you can hear his teeth audibly grind as his fingers bite into the soft of your waist once you take him to the root, thighs flush against his hips.

you come undone more times than you can count, the neighbors more than likely knowing his name by the time he walks out the front door (after checking the locks on your windows) and that's that.

until it isn't because a text from johnny awakens your phone screen, an invite to a restaurant downtown next saturday, one you've only ever fancied of eating at and well-

a date is a date, isn't it?

you tell him to pick you up at seven and he tells you to wear something you wouldn't mind letting him keep underneath, preferably something in red. (must've seen that particular number while you looked for some sleeping shorts before he left that night.)

hopefully you won't feel too bad breaking things off with whoever doesn't ask you to be theirs first.

(simon and johnny fuck each other to the thought of you back at base, simon's fist viciously tight around johnny's cock as he's got him drooling into the flattened pillow, almost like she's fucking you too, eh, johnny?)