#okay so DILFS !

[royaltea000]

Certified DILF chaser

[kyokutsu-sama]

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My Future Queen

A/n: Nothing to say other than I'm obsessed with this man🛐🛐 Julius Daddy Novachrono, I love you so much❤️👑

Tw: Nsfw under the line

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You entered the bedroom and let out a long, tired sigh. Today had been a tiring and busy day for royalty, a ball was taking place in the palace's great hall. Probably by now some of the nobility guests should be saying goodbye since some had already drunk too much and others were also tired just like you.

Julius must still be down there with a bunch of people around him. He was always the main star and the life of the party, something that the king of Clover would never be even with a crown on his head. Even for you, Julius was the true king.

You took off your shoes and arranged them at the entrance, then you walked to the table next to the bed and placed your accessories there. You ran your fingers over the diamond necklace that Julius offered you to go to the ball, it sparkled so much that you felt sorry for taking it off so you kept it on. You approached the window and saw the capital through the glass. It looked beautiful both night and day.

The door opened and you looked back to find your king walking in with a smile on his face and rosy cheeks. Probably due to alcohol, he was an excellent drinker and would last longer than anyone else.

"Good night my beautiful queen" He said walking towards you and hugged you from behind. "You left the ball early. Are you okay?" His voice next to your neck gave you goosebumps. You were right, there was a certain smell of alcohol coming from him when he spoke to you.

"Yes, I was just a little tired, that's all" You said looking to the side to see his face

"I was worried, I was already thinking that something had happened or that someone made you uncomfortable"

"No, nothing like that. Apart from the fact that some were a little nasty to me" You commented, remembering the scene in which Julius had to intervene after seeing another idiot trying to hit on you. As soon as the man found out that you would be the Wizard king's future wife, he was speechless and left after almost kneeling down and apologizing a million times. You couldn't contain a smile after seeing and remembering the scene once again.

"Are you referring to that man? Don't worry, he knows who you belong to now" Julius brushed the tip of his nose against the skin of your neck before kissing you, his arms tightened around you and pulled you against him

You closed your eyes and enjoyed a little of that pleasurable feeling he was giving you, you were on your way to witnessing a man who was a little different. Julius was a very respectful and affectionate man with you, he always treated you like the queen that you are but when exposed to situations like that he would go crazy and could get a little more harsh and if you still teased him with that, it would be the last straw.

"I never thought that being your future wife would make me a desired woman" You teased, smiling and he turned you to him and looked into your eyes

"It's a shame that none of them can have you because you belong to me, dear" He said before kissing you

His hand remained firm on your waist and the other on your face, his lips seemed soft initially but his gaze was lascivious and so it didn't take long for things to heat up and the kiss became more needy. His hands hurried to remove the white lace dress you had worn for the occasion, the same one he looked at and wondered what it would look like on the bedroom floor.

You then took your hands to your king's cloak and took it off his shoulders, he picked you up and took you to the bed and laying you on the soft sheets. He knelt on the mattress in front of you, looking at you and delighting in you lying in front of him, his hands running over your body before he leaned forward and kissed your neck and marked your skin. He removed your bra and kissed your breasts slowly, your fingers passed through his short blonde strands and your lips opened to sigh heavily, the excitement between your legs was only increasing the more he touched you. Julius moved away and opened your legs, licking his lips at the sight of the wet fabric. His eyes met yours and you felt a certain heat cover your face, he loved how cute you looked blushing like that and kissed you.

"You look so perfect now" He whispered against your lips."The necklace suits you beautifully"He said, appreciating the shine of the precious crystals

His fingers caressed you through the fabric and you shivered, he ran two fingers over your wet slit before removing your last piece of clothing and exposing you to him.

He positioned himself between your thighs and lowered himself to taste what he had been craving all night. Your back formed an arch and your legs weakened, his tongue opened your slippery folds and gave you goosebumps, your king was hungry.

"Julius..." You moaned his name, feeling a wave of pleasure running through your body

The fingers of his hands dug into the flesh of your thighs, his mouth turned his attention to your sensitive bud. You rolled your eyes, hands gripping his hair as you held him closer. You knew he would take out that slight jealousy towards the other idiot just because he messed with you. He was a peaceful man, but don't touch what belonged to him. He didn't express what he felt but those purple irises didn't hide anything from you.

It didn't take you long for you to came on his mouth, which ran down your slit and drank it. The man stood up, licking the corner of his lips and taking off his clothes, you just enjoyed the show, panting and with a slight smile on your face.

"Your smile makes me think you were thinking about this before, don't you?" He asked, running his fingers up your thighs as he looked at you.

"Would it be wrong for a queen to want some attention from her king?"

"No, you could have said it sooner, you know. I like spontaneity" He smiled

"And would you fuck me in the middle of the dance if I asked you, your majesty ?" You sat on the mattress and got closer to his face, only to see a the serious and thoughtful expression on his face, probably imagining the scene, changing to the smile again

"If you insisted..." He suggested and you giggled. "Who would I be to deny something to my future wife and queen?" He closed the distance between you both with a deep kiss as he laid you back on the mattress

One of his hands slid down your body and grabbed your thigh, you moaned against his lips when he took his dick and passed it through your folds, teasing your throbbing entrance.

"Do you want this?" He asked with his forehead against yours and you nodded.

He then kissed your forehead and entered you, your hands ran down his back leaving future red marks. His body started moving against yours, your legs hugged his body closer and his eyes on yours made you feel a little tense from the intensity.

The pace increased and he moved away a little, placing both of your legs on his shoulder, holding them with one arm and resting one hand on the wall behind the bed. The position allowed him to go deeper while he saw you squirming and your hands gripping the bed sheets tightly. The moans were heard even outside the bedroom, Marx would probably be shocked if he could hear it.

Poor baby, too innocent to imagine Julius in a situation like that.

"If that man could only see you now..." The wizard king said, breathing heavily. You felt the blush on your cheeks again at those words. "You will be my queen and everyone will know"

You whimpered beneath him, feeling him go faster and faster as he spoke, it was pushing you to the limit.

You could no longer think straight, much less feel your body, he was giving it his all and you knew you would be sore later. Your half-open eyes caught sight of the man in front of you and you could tell he was close.

"Will you be my good queen and take everything inside you?" He said, thrusting deeper and you writhed with pleasure

"Yeah...yeah, please, I'll take it all" Tears of pleasure prickling the corners of your eyes as he reveled in the sight

You fell apart at that moment, unable to hold it in any longer, he then filled you until you were taking everything and couldn't let it leak. His arm let go of your legs and he bent down kissing your lips, now it didn't seem as rough as at first, it was somehow softer but the desire was still there on his tongue. You moved away from the kiss for a moment to catch your breath since you're both panting now.

He took one of your hands that was holding his face and kissed it gently as his eyes met yours once again.

"You're beautiful, my queen" He whispered and then commenting on your rosy cheeks. "Why are you blushing again?" He joked

"I'm not blushing" You looked away but he turned your face towards him again and kissed your lips once again

"Don't hide your face, I love seeing you like this"He declared with a chuckle, laying down next to you and pulling you to lay on top of him. "We're going to get married soon and have another ball, but I'll make sure this time I hold your hand everywhere and I'll protect you from everything" He promised, kissing the top of your head

You looked into his eyes and saw his confidence in keeping his word. You would undoubtedly be in good hands if you married him.

[mobius-m-mobius]

#a man who DESERVES A SLICE OF PIE

[canyyon]

I love Trucy so much and so does her dad. Mans at an all time low but he does his damnedest for her

[visceravalentines]

What did you do for Easter, Meg? Oh you know, colored eggs and wrote sacrilegious porn, hbu? Couldn't stop thinking about the comments on this post so surprise whores here you go

Worship

Dilf!Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader

Bo has a few sins to confess and in the process he commits a whole bunch of new ones.

2.5k words. Smut. Super blasphemy, like so bad, and lots of religious ideas and phrasing. Oral (fem!receiving) and PnV sex in a semi-public extremely inappropriate place w/ creampie at the end bc that's what we deserve. Soft Bo, almost sub Bo if you squint. Reader wears a dress & heels and uses she/her pronouns. Extensive liberties taken with confessional booth architecture and suit pants physics.

A note: this can be read as a non-chronological part of my ongoing dilf Bo series or as a standalone.

You haven't been in this church since you were a teenager. Your eyes wander up and over the stained glass, the soaring rafters. It's a beautiful building, stately, tranquil.

"Got somethin' I need to confess," Bo whispers with his lips against your ear. Goosebumps roll down your skin.

You shoot a sidelong glance down the pew at your parents, less than two feet away. They're holiday Catholics and the sermon has them rapt, like tourists watching a wild animal from the safety of their vehicle.

You incline your head subtly in Bo's direction and hold your breath so you don't miss his next words.

"I can't get you outta my head."

You exhale slowly and shift on the bench, careful not to set the ancient wood creaking. When you sneak a look at him, he's the picture of innocence, taking in the gospel like a man who doesn't need it. You clasp your hands on your lap.

Casually, like he's commenting on the father's delivery, Bo leans in again and murmurs, "Bet you'd let me touch you here, huh? Get my hands under that little skirt...."

You shiver and shift. The bench tattles on you and your mother sends a reprimand your way with her eyes. You tug the hem of your skirt towards your knees and try to channel a modicum of the faux virtue sitting to your left.

He quiets down and behaves himself for just long enough that the flame flickering in your center dies down to an almost-appropriate level, but the heat of his leg against your bare thigh keeps you from turning all your thoughts to God. The weight of his hand on the small of your back as he guides you out of the pew for Communion is a stitch past purity. The look he manages to slip you as the father places the wafer in his open mouth makes you feel like you need to get back in line for a second pass at contrition, and maybe this time you'll mean it.

His hand brushes across your ass as you scoot back into the pew and you think about obedience, how you hate to be told what to do but you'd drop to your knees for him right now, right here, if he'd promise to quell the simmer he's started between your legs.

The father is thanking those who helped prepare the picnic on the lawn outside and Bo props his arm on the back of the bench, leans close and lets his lips graze your skin, and whispers, "Meet me up there once everybody's outside." He gestures with a nod.

You look at him with wide eyes. "The confessional?" you hiss.

He winks at you.

You follow your parents out onto the green, but Bo doesn't follow you. In fact you lose him immediately in the crowd, can't help but search for him among the abundance of pastel dresses and khaki suits. You agree vapidly with everything your mother says about the mass, nod politely at all your dad's closest acquaintances.

You excuse yourself at the second or third possible opportunity, afraid of running into the father if you sneak back too soon. Your footsteps are deafening in the now silent sanctuary, your eager uncertainty echoing back at you like an accusation.

Bo is nowhere to be seen, but neither is the clergy, so you step lightly across the stone floor and approach the confessional booth. The penitent's bench is hardly private, hung with a red curtain that only conceals from the waist up. You duck instead into the priest's chamber and inch the door closed behind you, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding once you're safely out of sight.

The small space is dimly lit by a single bulb recessed in the ceiling and the fractured light coming in through the screen on the one side. There's a bench built into the back wall and furnished with a velvet cushion. You sit, adjusting your skirt, and think about guilt.

Abruptly the door flies open and Bo slips inside, closing it all the way behind him. He's appropriately debonair in a blue suit, white shirt, no tie. For a moment, he looks a touch harried, glancing over his shoulder to be sure the door is closed. But then he looks down at you, meets your gaze, and flashes you a grin.

"Well what do we have here?"

You move to stand and he shakes his head, fighting to shrug off his suit coat in the confined space. "Don't get up, darlin', you're perfect right there. Betcha this is the first time anyone with tits has sat in that seat."

You giggle, a touch nervous. He reaches his hand out for yours and brings your knuckles to his lips. His mustache prickles your skin.

"You enjoy the mass?"

You're not sure if he's serious. "...parts of it, yeah."

He smiles. "Which parts?"

You open your mouth for a sharp reply but your gaze is hung up on his lips and when he shifts his weight you become unbearably aware of how close his bulge is to your face.

Bo laughs low and squeezes your hand. "I myself had a hard time focusin' on the good word. Had my mind on...other things." He eyes you with something like mischief. "I was hopin' maybe you could help me...unburden myself."

The smell of him is slowly permeating the tiny space, overwriting the stuffy scent of incense and oiled wood with tobacco and aftershave. He barely fits, too tall, shoulders too broad. He could swallow you whole and you wish he would.

"Anything you want," you say softly.

Bracing himself against the walls, he sinks to his knees in front of you. The pattern of the screen is emblazoned on his face in light. The wood pops and creaks. You remember to breathe.

"I'm a sinner, darlin'." He gazes up at you through those lashes, smiling sheepishly, big hands curving around your calves. "Done too much wrong to confess. Can't even remember it all."

You touch his cheek, brush your thumb over the crow's feet at the corner of his eye. "Start small."

His hands slide down to your ankles and he works at the strap of your heels with ungainly fingers. "I been tellin' lies, baby." He slips off one shoe and starts on the other. "Your mama asked me if I've been seein' anyone and I said no." His thumb runs along the arch of your foot. "Your daddy asked me if I knew where you was the other night and I told him I didn't have a clue."

He wraps his fingers around your ankles and squeezes gently, and then pulls your legs open. You stifle a gasp, try to press your thighs together to maintain a smidgen of modesty.

Bo kisses your knees. His hands creep up the outside of your legs. "Been gamblin'. Riskin' my reputation, my livelihood."

"Why would you do that?" you whisper.

He grins against your skin. His fingers are sneaking beneath your skirt. "Well y'see, there's this girl...."

You bite your lip as he curls one finger around the waistband of your panties on either side and tugs them down your thighs.

"She ain't for me...but she's all I want. And that's another thing." He tucks your panties in his pocket and you pretend you don't notice. "I been plagued by lustful thoughts. Day and night I'm thinkin' about this girl, thinkin' about the sounds she makes...picturin' her underneath me...." He guides your knees apart, drags his mouth over your skin, lighting you up from the outside in. His shoulders are solid under your hands, a foundation to cling to.

"See, I know it's wrong, but whenever she's around me I just...forget myself. Start wonderin' what she's got on under her clothes, what I gotta do to get 'em off of her...." He nips at your flesh, one, two, three up your thigh, and you gasp each time. "Keeps me up at night wishin' she was in my bed." He pauses, looks at you with cocked eyebrows. "I think about her damn near every time I defile myself, which is...often."

You exhale slowly, release the death grip you have on his shirt and run your fingers through his hair. "Sounds like you've got a lot of penance to do."

Bo lets out a helpless chuckle. "I know it, baby. I'm desperate." He blinks up at you, looking earnest. "I'm hopin' you got some salvation to offer me."

"I might." You tug your skirt up, baring yourself to him, and he groans, fingers digging into your flesh. "But you've got to earn it."

He inches forward and pins your legs open on either side of his shoulders. "Never been much of a god-fearin' man," he says, "but I know how to worship." He bows his head and you close your eyes when you feel his breath on your skin. "What d'you know about devotion, angel?"

"Nothing," you say, breathless. "Teach me."

The first pass of his tongue is feather-light and devastating and you sigh as that flickering flame roils brightly back to life. He teases the edge of your entrance, warming you up with the heat of his attention. You make a small sound and he responds with a slow, insistent lick up the length of your slit that makes you whine and clutch at his hair.

He cradles your clit in the cup of his lips and venerates you with his tongue in lazy spirals, up and over, and your blood throbs in the same rhythm. He sucks gently, and then harder, and you moan in the bliss of transubstantiation as his mouth makes the mundane into the divine.

With a growl in the back of his throat he hoists your legs onto his shoulders and penetrates you with his tongue, lapping at your pussy in search of absolution. Your eyes bounce around the blank ceiling of the booth as your hips buck mindlessly against his chin. His mustache tickles your lips, beard coarse against your inner thighs.

"Bo," you gasp as he sucks hard at your clit, "oh, god."

"I'm a bad person, baby," he mumbles. "Promise."

"No." You try and fail to stifle a cry, back arching, toes curled. "You're so good...you're so good."

Between your gasps you hear the sound of footsteps on the stone. Your steady-building climax skids to a halt and you stare wide-eyed at the confessional door.

Bo doesn't stop. In fact, he redoubles his efforts.

You clamp your hand over your mouth, trying desperately to keep still even as your body flexes and writhes against your will. You can hear two voices--you recognize one as the father but the other could be anybody, some stranger, some sinner seeking Easter confession.

Bo seals his mouth over your cunt and grinds his tongue against your clit again and again, gripping your ass, holding you to him as you squirm and seek purchase on the featureless walls.

The voices are getting closer and against all odds, so is your release. You're past the point of redemption, couldn't stave it off if you wanted to.

"Bo," you squeak under your breath, clawing at the back of his neck, grasping the edge of the seat, "please--"

He grunts softly. He's devouring you, hellbent on a miracle, bound and determined to introduce you to God. And seconds later, when your cup runneth over and your spine arches against the velvet and you have to sink your teeth into the meat of your palm to keep from howling his name, you see starbursts of pastel pink and sky blue behind your eyes and figure this is probably the closest you'll get to the pearly gates.

Your breath is hitching in your chest and you feel him slip out of your hands and you whimper, floating back into your body, unsteady as you try to sit up straight on the bench. The voices and footsteps are fading and you breathe a sigh of relief and release.

His hands are on your arms and he's coaxing you to your feet, supporting your weight on behalf of your shaking legs, turning you around in the tight space and murmuring in your ear.

"Need you, baby, right now, c'mere. Need to be inside you. Let me--"

He takes your place on the bench. He's undone his belt, freed his cock from his pants, and you clamber eagerly into his lap and let him guide you down onto him. Your head lolls back as he pushes into you, fills your empty space. The image of him looking desperately up at you is burned into the back of your eyelids.

"Angel," he breathes as he takes your face in his hands and brings your mouth to his. His kisses are hot with lust, with greed, with envy of everyone who's ever touched your lips before him. You can smell yourself in his beard, sweet and heady like original sin.

You move, rocking back and forth on his cock, and he moves you, hands on your hips, your skirt in disarray, his shirt falling open as you wrestle with the buttons. He pulls you closer, pulls himself deeper, and you can feel his heart pounding when you brace yourself on his chest.

"Ain't gonna last long," he pants. "So fuckin' tight, baby, so perfect...."

"That's okay, that's okay," you say, stumbling over your words. The frame of the booth is groaning in legitimate complaint, the entire structure trembling slightly, and you're going to get caught, surely you are, and you'll be cast out together beyond the reach of forgiveness but that might be alright as long as you've got him with you.

You press yourself against him, as close as you can get and not close enough. He cums with his face buried in your chest and your name in his mouth like a prayer. The kick of his cock inside you grants you another little climax, a little death, little moans jarred from your lips with each waning thrust of his hips.

"Kiss me," you whisper, and he obeys, his eyes glazed, his gaze soft and adoring. His needy grip on your waist melts into caresses and you finger the buttons of his shirt like rosary beads. One is missing; you're both hopelessly disheveled, undeniably sin-touched. You push his hair off his forehead and back into place. "Did this help?"

He shakes his head and laughs quietly. "No."

"Made it worse."

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"'S okay." He kisses you again. "You're forgiven."

[sincericida]

ANDREW GARFIELD

photographed by Alexi Lubomirski for Variety’s "Actors on Actors".

[frnkiebby]

his dilf era

oh FUCK yes~🎃

[novistarplanet]

toji taking tsumiki to her first daddy daughter dance!!! she’s super excited and she can’t decide if she wants to be tiana or elsa! She even makes toji practice on how to hold a teacup

LOL IMAGINE

You just came home from going grocery shopping stepping into you guys shared apartment you notice it’s no sound of a hyper 5 year old and your loud husband.

Looking around the apartment you came across loud giggles. Peeking your head into the room seeing toji with a little sliver crown on and a pink fur jacket.

“ ‘S that be 1 lump of sugar princess”

you couldn’t help but laugh at how the chair only covers a small portion of his lower backside

she quickly blobs a whole handful of sugar into his tea cup smiling at him showing her half develop teeth

he raises the cup like he was drinking beer and take tiny fake sips from it.

“daddy your not doing it right!! we have to clak are teacups together!” He face spins turns red as he stumbles out apologies.

he just loves his little princess so much

[moonchild-in-blue]

Not forgiving yall for making me believe Price was a proper Tired Old Man™. What do you MEAN he is canonically 38/39 💀

and what do you mean Soap is like? 27? sir you are but wee boy. where are your parents.

[uwu-scraptrappy]

New silly hc: zep is a super light sleeper. Like someone could be having a whispered conversation two houses over and it's enough to wake him up. On the opposite side logan is such a deep sleeper. That guy could sleep through ten hurricanes back to back. The only thing (other than the nightmares) that can wake him up is zep kissing him awake or melissa waking him up to tell him she has a bad dream :(

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price - House of Long Shadows (1984)

[bugtoast]

Happy valentines, i’m trying to learn how to draw the gay people’s faces after over 2 years of being in this fandom (they mean the world to me,,,,,,)

[skloomdumpster]

[sincericida]

ANDREW GARFIELD

for GQ Magazine

[article]

[louisplumpyass]

THAT'S DADDY OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK I CANNOT—

[pumpkinrootbeer]

Things I think about all the time regarding Peter B is how a lot of his movement feels almost like laziness but it's actually just an absurd amount of skill and experience. he's been doing this longer than anyone else there, so he knows how that villain speech is going to play out, doesn't look when he fires a web because he knows exactly where it's going to land, and he's absolutely able to predict where Miles is going to go and catch up to him when no one else can. because peter b has been at this longer than everyone else there and it's literally second nature to him. give me more middle aged experienced superheros please.