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chronically-ghosted · 6 months

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Dry Run

rating: T

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

word count: 1513

summary: you meet javi in a club and he shows you his favorite way to foreplay sex.

warnings: no smut, no y/n, this isn't explicit but outrageously horny, naughty language and bad touching in public, slutty dancing

a/n: @ravensmadreads reminded me that the songs "Gasolina" and "Rompe" exist and then forced me at gun point to write this drabble. no one talks about what a good dancer javi would be and i've had enough!

🤍Masterlist

It started simple enough.

A smile at the bar. The tang of tequila and the sour bite of a lime. A touch against your thigh to see if you are easily startled. He has to lean in close to ask if he can buy you your next drink, the deep rub of his voice only audible above the pound and hum of the music when his lips brush the shell of your ear.

Then you tug him by that linen shirt, the tails already creeping out of the waistband of his jeans as if in anticipation of what comes next. His damp throat visible through the shamelessly undone collar, you wonder if he barely dresses himself because he knows some woman will just tear him naked again. His breath smells smoky, rich, like the mezcal he’s been sipping on, his broad chest warm under your palm as he now herds you onto the dance floor. There’s a grin on his face, a dark fire in his eyes that tells you he likes to play with his food, that this is nothing more than foreplay to him. Practice before the test. A dry run.

He wants you to know exactly where you liked to be touched before you bring him home, to surprise and bewitch you as if he had known those places all along.

But you’re not so easily convinced. Not so easily made dumb by slim hips and wide palms. He wants to dance, you want bailar.

It starts simple enough. His head hung low, teasing grin on his face, he encourages your arms around his neck. You feel his hair stick to your forehead as he leans in rough palms easing down over your wrists, your elbows, your shoulders, then steadying against your hips. He moves like many men in this country do, with the self-assuredness that the music listens to him and not the other way around. He’s light on his feet, cowboy boots taking two steps forward, one step back, and you wonder what kind of a job he has. What kind of a man he is, that he can dance like this but his palms are so rough. You wonder how he would dance if he didn’t have plans of fucking you in the club’s bathroom. His hands rest lightly on your hips, hardly respectable but a little possessive, a promise and a warning that you are going to only dance with him tonight.

You watch his eyes flick down to your chest only a few times.

But then the music changes, the crowd drunk and eager for something stronger than seduction. The bachata gives way to music not about love but lust, its desirable twin. It’s faster, something more metallic and driven.

The hands on your hips tighten and the pulse in your wrists quickens. It comes as no surprise that this stranger, this man can easily handle the switch – the slide into something that demands a change of pace, the roll of the hips instead of a sway.

He is never rough and never grips too tight. His hands glide up to the arch of your back, hot and rolling like candle wax, as he suggests silently that you come closer, that you let him feel only what you’ve been showing. You go willingly, curious and painfully turned on. What is he capable of? What can he do to you? What would you let him do to you?

His feet widen apart and you slot in like you’re supposed to. He seems surprised by it, as if every move you��ve made towards him all night hasn’t been bold, hasn’t explicitly told him what you want. His arm now up around the low dip of your ribs, the thumb on the other hand brushes under your lip. He won’t kiss you, you don’t kiss to this music, but you see he wants to breathe you in, wants to make your air his.

“Hermosa,” he murmurs, everything about him from his hair, to his mustache, eyes and eyebrows dark and heavy. “Que hermosa.”

You don’t realize you’re pinned to his chest until his arm has nowhere to go, trapped between you two. So he doesn’t move it. He cups the back of your neck, fingers pressing into the damp lining of your hair above the knot of your spine. This isn’t what he expected to happen and neither did you. His belt buckle digs into your hips and you can’t resist pushing into that cold pinch. His nostrils flare, eyes searching, breath short. Sweat drips over his left eye and you half-bite, half-kiss the spot on his forehead, tongue printing on his skin.

You feel more than hear the groan in his chest.

The music changes again, the lights spinning and dropping in the low beats. In the half-dark, he tugs your elbows from around his head, finger rubbing over the lining of your panties over your dress, and he turns you, barely allowing an inch of space between you.

You feel his breath on your neck before those wide palms curl around you, that hot, damp chest curl around you, and he’s dragged you against him, all without missing the flow of the music. You moan when his hard cock, confined by the seam of his jeans, spreads your ass cheeks apart and you drop your head onto his shoulder. His fingers twist the hem of your dress but don’t move it. The bareness of your skin is for him alone, in private, in the half-darkness. Instead, he palms the hand pressing into your thigh, your legs screaming from the constant movement, and brings it up to your chest, his fingers intertwining with yours. He nudges your jaw with his nose, breath heavy against your ear.

He likes to fuck like this too, you realize.

His hips flow and buck with the music, yours nestled as tight as you can without him physically being inside you. You purposefully fall out of sync for a fraction of a second, your ass grindings against where he is so deliciously hard and he grunts. He drops his head, tongue then teeth digging into the muscle between your shoulder and your neck. You intentionally rub against him again, in the opposite direction, and his other hand again overtakes yours, threading his fingers and yours together, and wraps your arm around your ribs, his own like a hot steel bar across you.

You toss your head back, gasping for air before you are pulled back under.

Wrapped around you, he fucks you without penetration, the music a whispered instruction to the pace of his hips. You turn your head and bite his ear, making him groan deep, the metal teeth of his jeans imprinting their shape onto your ass. His eyes closed, his fingers dig into your palms. Hot, humid air puffs from his wet mouth over your shoulder, into the curl of your neck. Your skin beneath your wet hair twitches with sudden goosebumps.

You realize, in a daze, he’s muttering the filthy lyrics to you, smearing promises into your skin long before you can reciprocate that pleasure. You push back against him, a reward, and this time, he purposefully rubs against you, against the music, his hand over yours dropping to your abdomen, just where your panties sit under your dress. He cups you as if he could mount you – drive you under him, and eat you out on his knees.

On the next flash of light, the drop of the beat, you slide your hand out from under him and wind up into his hair. His free forearm binds you just under your tits, keeping you against his grinds, his sweat-damp body, so you curl your fingers into his hair and yank. His head drops back as he pants from the sharp spike of pleasure and pain.

His heartbeat is the same as the bass, you think. Maybe yours too, the heat of his chest felt all the way down your spine.

He is minutes away from unwinding himself from you, from flushing you cold without the fervor of his body, your own drenched in sweat, only to all but drag you into the nearest bathroom, shove your panties down to your knees and actually, properly fuck you until you have bruises and beg him for more. But not yet.

There’s an intimacy in dancing like this. A familiarity that is too often rapidly lost and gained in the physicality of later acts.

You think deliriously that all couples should have to dance like this before going out or even hooking up. Because this, this chemistry, this natural heat and rhythm, can so often provide honesty that can rarely be spoken about so early. This, this dancing, asks, “are you going to fuck me like I need it?”

Yes, his body proves as his strong, thick thighs cage you even further into him, yes, he can.

He will fuck you. He will, he promises every time he makes you squeeze yourself with his hands.

But not yet.

Not yet.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #javier peña x y/n #javier pena one shot #javier pena x ofc #javier peña smut #javier peña x you #narcos #narcos netflix

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dmitriene · 2 months

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THOUGHTS ABOUT VENTING WITH KYLE ON THE BEACH.

cw: tooth rotting fluff, comfort, established relationship, intimacy, lot of kisses, massaging, teasing, flirting, pet names, just a lot of romantic couple things, reader described as wearing a swimsuit. pairing: bf kyle gaz garrick x gf fem reader

author's note: that's my first ever try of writing for kyle, so he maybe might seem to ya'll ooc, or something else, but i just wanted to try and post something with him, so i hope that those who'll read it enjoy.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

the sun and slight coolness create a pleasant atmosphere on the morning beach, there are not many people yet, the pale sand has not had time to be filled with a huge number of plastic chairs and sun loungers, while the slightly warm rays play with reflections on the water and color the sand yellowish.

your trip to the beach with kyle was completely spontaneous, an idea that emerged during the dialogue that it would be nice to get out somewhere together to relax and unwind, especially considering that kyle has been sitting more at home lately, too tired from missions and definitely missing your presence to go somewhere from the comfort of home, therefore, the best option was the sea, light warmth, cool water, the images that popped up in kyle’s head, and not even yours, looked too tempting not to voice them

— “hmm, wha' abou' a beach, then, sunshine?„

that's why you were now sitting on his tailbone while kyle lay on his stomach on top of the beach mat, letting your hands touch his dark, sun glistening skin, starting from the bottom of his back and working up the white streaks of sunscreen, the cool, sticky texture making him shiver softly, practically arching, if not for the weight of your body pressing him down while you cover every visible part of his back with sun cream.

your hands slide to his shoulder blades, tracing the defined bones and muscles that tense and limp under your touch as your thumbs press in circular motions, moving to his shoulders, and kyle turns his head to the side, catching your slightly concentrated face, which causing him to have a wide, snow white smile, revealing his pointed fangs, while he practically purrs

— “can't really ge' enough of your touch on me, sweethear'„

his shameless flirting causes a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips as your body leans forward and you move your face closer to his, placing a quick kiss on his lips as he reaches back, propping himself up on his elbows and tilting his head to capture your lips with his, rubbing with his stubble against your skin and frowning his dark thick eyebrows with displeasure when you pull away from him, sliding off him and standing on the sand, flashing him a teasing smile and murmuring, playfully

— “well, i can't smear you with sunscreen until the evening?„

kyle laughs in response, propping himself up on his elbows and stretching to warm up after lying down for a long time, letting the sun's rays fall on his skin, illuminating him as his back and abs muscles work at the same time, rippling with every movement until he is fully on his feet, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you into the air without a single problem, narrowing his dark eyes in a smile, catching the sun with them and letting them light up as he lifts you slightly, placing his hands under your ass that is slightly opened by your swimsuit, allowing him to hide your pretty parts, while your hands rest on his shoulders

— “is tha' a question, sunshine? because my answer is definitely yes„

his slightly deep voice sparkles with perkiness, causing you to playfully roll your eyes back before you reach up to kiss him softly on the cheek, placing a warm kiss where he has a scar of two scratches, which brings a burning tenderness in his gaze, encouraging him to kiss you back just as reverently, fidgeting with his slightly plump lips against yours, his slightly shaved mustache tickling your skin as he presses closer to lick your lower lip and open a passage inside your mouth, freeing one hand from under your butt, and holding you on one, he touches the back of your head, pressing you deeper into the kiss, stroking your hair, until one of you pulls away.

and kyle does it first, allowing you to greedily draw in lungfuls of air through swollen and wet lips, not even paying attention to possible looks from the passing people, before you are brought back to reality by unexpected, literally childish behavior on his part, when he leans down and touches your nose with his, before biting the tip of your nose, and you gasp, your eyes immediately widening in surprise, before you furrow your brows and pinch his own nose, and he just breaks out into loud laughter, his body shaking and you with him while you mutter threateningly

— “you do this one more time and i would bury you in the sand, garrick!„

the laughter immediately becomes quieter, softening as he rubs his eyes from the slight accumulation of moisture there from approaching tears, before starting to walk towards the open sea along the sand, still holding you in his arms, even despite the slight frown in your eyebrows and feigned offense at his action, although it still touches him, which is why he bounces you slightly in his arms, jumping up, pressing his cheek against yours with an airy smooch and purring smugly

— “aww, come on, i'm sorry, sunshine, let's enjoy the woter, shall we?„

you look at kyle with suspicion, sincere, narrowing your eyes when he turns his head to look at you, smiling sickly sweetly, knowing that his charm always works without unnecessary problems, but you still give him a small warning, making him snort, but one way or another, listen to the end

— “don't try to pull out something silly again, i dare you„

he nods, as if obediently, but you see that sparkle in his brown eyes and it leaves nothing good to be desired, especially when kyle still gives you his answer, far from an agreement, but you can’t help but smile at his playfulness, sighing and resigned as you lay your head on top of his, kissing the top of his dark, curly hair, almost imperceptibly, but kyle is aware of your every warm touch

— “don' promise you anything, sweetie, but i migh' try„

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lovelybucky1 · 2 years

Note

"oh really?" / "yes, really." / "lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart."

with rooster?

send me enemies to lovers prompts with top gun characters from this post

im not even a rooster girlie but this sure got away from me

warnings: enemies to lovers, gender neutral reader, sexual tension, 18+ minors DNI

masterlist

The sun on the beach is hot and you can feel it scorching on your skin. The football game is winding down as the pilots are losing interest. Some have gone into the water for a swim, some, including you, are sunbathing, and the rest are digging a very large hole in the sand. Rooster isn’t with any of the others, and unfortunately for you, he deems you more appealing than any of the other activities.

He walks up to where you’re laid out on your towel, accidentally kicking some sand onto it which pisses you off before he even speaks.

“Y/L/N,” he greets with a smirk, still smug after beating your team at football.

“Bradshaw,” you respond curtly. You’ve never been a fan of the pilot, always having found him mildly irritating and, frankly, you think he’s a little bitch.

“What’s the matter? Still mad that you lost?”

“I’m mad that you’re blocking my sun,” you say, cracking an eye open to see his dark silhouette, and even despite the lack of light, his stupid mustache is very visible.

He moves out of the way quickly and you end up staring directly into the sun. You curse him as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will the colorful spots dancing behind your eyelids away.

“Maybe if you weren’t so distracted by looking at me, you wouldn’t have lost so bad,” he laughs, sitting next to you in the sand.

You roll onto your stomach and lift yourself up on your elbows and look at him over your sunglasses.

“I wasn’t looking at you, asshole,” you roll your eyes.

“Yes you were. I saw you,” he says with a taunting voice like he’s a child, not a professional navy pilot.

“Glancing isn’t looking, and either way, I wasn’t distracted.”

“Oh, I see,” he smirks, “So you just let Phoenix take you out like that?”

Maybe Rooster was right. She had caught you in a moment of weakness where you happened to turn your attention away from the game and saw Rooster, skin glowing with salt water, sweat, and tanning oil, doing a stupid celebratory dance. You weren’t distracted, though.

“Yes,” you respond through clenched teeth. “I hate to break it to you, Bradshaw, but you’re nothing special. I could go to the bar and find ten guys who look just like you, pornstache and all.”

Rooster isn’t affected by your dig in the slightest, laughing it off and continuing his pestering.

“Why find a lookalike when you could have the real thing? I know you’ve thought about it; pornstache and all,” he grins.

“I haven’t.”

It sounds like a lie even to your own ears. You have thought about it, usually late at night after Rooster spent a long, frustrating day of training poking and prodding at you with non-stop comments and jibes about your flying or your sex life or god knows what else.

“Oh really?” he asks, eyebrow quirked over his sunglasses in a way that makes you want to snap them in half.

“Yes, really.”

“You know, lying doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”

Frustration builds inside of you, and you almost think you might burst.

“What do you want, Rooster? Do you want me to admit I think you’re attractive? Do you want me to sleep with you? Do you want me to get down on my knees and thank god for blessing me with the Bradley Bradshaw?”

Maybe you had lost your temper, but after weeks of this, he deserved it. He looked taken aback by your outburst, and an almost remorseful look appeared on his face.

“No… that’s not what I want,” he mutters.

“Then why do you insist on fucking with me?”

Rooster is quiet for a moment while he thinks of his response. “Because it’s the best way to get your attention.” You furrow your brows in confusion. “You wouldn’t give me the time of day otherwise.”

“You’re kidding.” He shakes his head. “All this time you’ve, what, been pulling my pigtails so I’d like you back?”

He shrugs and gives a half smile, clearly embarrassed that his intentions are being exposed like this.

“That’s pathetic, Rooster. You could’ve just told me you’re interested like a big boy.”

“I did tell you!”

You shoot him a look that says really?, and he shrinks under your gaze. You sit up on your towel so you’re almost eye level with Rooster.

“You’re an irritating, annoying, frustrating son of a bitch,” you say, and it looks like he’s prepared to be slapped. Instead of slapping him, which you would have done in a heartbeat half an hour ago, you press your lips together in a bruising kiss.

He gasps into your mouth, but his surprise only lasts for a second before he kisses you back. It’s like you thought it would be. A kiss to break the tension, full of passion and weeks of built-up frustration melting away as you bite at his soft bottom lip.

When you pull away, Rooster is flushed, not just from the sun, and his eyelids are heavy and half open. He wipes the glistening spit from his mouth with the back of his hand, then clears his throat as he regains his composure.

“That was… good,” he says.

“Just good?” you lean in close again, and his eyes almost go crossed as he tries to keep eye contact. You put your hand on his abs, and you wish you hadn’t waited this long to touch him.

“Yeah,” he breathes, and despite the blush that spanks from his cheeks to his chest, he still has that infuriating cocky smirk.

“Lying doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #rooster x reader #rooster #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #x reader

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hotgirlmav · 1 year

Text

Cyrano — Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female!Reader (18+)

Description: PART 2 OF PARTING GIFT! One night stands were never truly your thing. After passing your college midterms and celebrating at a bar, though, a one night stand ended up being just what you wanted. You picked the hottest naval aviator in the whole building and soon learned that he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. He was set to deploy the next day, and you just wanted a cheap fix. What better way to ruin the convenience of a one night stand than him getting you pregnant?

Warnings: Explicit language, sexual undertones, abundance of angst, depictions of anxiety, vomit, alcohol, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, brief arguing, mentions of death, bits of fluff, Maverick and Iceman mention because I am WEAK.

Word Count: 4,684.

A/N: IGNORE THE FACT THAT I SAID I WOULD POST THIS LAST NIGHT, I TOOK A NAP THAT TURNED INTO ME SLEEPING FOR FIVE HOURS 😭 I also just wanted to take a quick second to thank you all for the response I received on the first part. The amount of comments, reblogs, and messages I got was just absolutely insane. You all genuinely make writing worth it. You have my heart.

Requests are still open!

From the very moment his words went through the phone and to your ear, you were in a state of panic.

Though it had only been a few days since he told you that he was coming, the thought of Rooster’s arrival left a deep wound right in the center of your chest. Fear had been your closest companion ever since you found out about your pregnancy, and over the past number of days, the dreaded nuisance of the emotion refused to part from you. You woke up with it at your bedside, you traveled with it throughout the day, and despite your attempts being to no prevail, you tried to make your peace with it at night.

While currently standing in front of the mirror in your bedroom, every emotion you had felt since you found out about your pregnancy was amplified.

Fear. Guilt. Sympathy for the baby inside of you. Slight excitement. You knew the situation wasn’t exactly ideal, but you refused to not be at least a little excited over what would end up being your child. You refused to let your baby suffer for what you believed to be your recklessness.

Only thirty minutes prior to your silent session in front of your own reflection, Rooster had informed you that he was quite ready to come get you for dinner. You had no idea as to whether he was very far from your house, very close to it, or even if he remembered where it was. In all fairness, he had only been there once.

Almost like he waited for you to doubt him, the sound of a knock outside the door pierced your ears in a way that might as well have been an explosion. You visibly flinched at the faint sound of his knuckles briefly hitting your front door and cleared your throat, trying to suppress the nausea you felt induced both by your baby and by the father. How fitting.

“Just one second!” You found yourself calling out to him, frantically looking around your bedroom. You rushed out to the living room and began to toss everything around in a way that would make it seem just a bit neater, pure panic coursing through your veins.

It took about a minute more until you raced to the door and sharply inhaled through your mouth, practically holding your breath once you opened the door.

Your heart completely stopped at the sight of him. Tanned, sun-kissed skin practically illuminating under the light provided by the sunset, hair so sandy yet golden. His mustache was very neatly trimmed in a way that told you he must have spent quite a few minutes on it, and for that, you fought the urge to grin.

His hazel eyes scanned you as his full lips curled into a cheeky smile, just before he furrowed his eyebrows. His large hand gripped the doorframe as he met your eyes with his own for a moment, then broke the intense eye contact just a second later, leaning his head inside of the doorway. Due to the fact that he was quite a bit taller than you, it was easy for him to do so.

His eyes scanned the now tidy living room, answering his internal question as to just what took you so long to open the door. The man was still essentially towering over you as he turned his head back to your face, gazing right down at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“You didn’t tidy up this well when I railed you.” He remarked in a way that made you let out a small gasp, earning a genuine chuckle from him when you swatted at his chest. Strangely enough, all of your panic evaporated into thin air once he spoke.

“Since you don’t appreciate my efforts, I shouldn’t have cleaned up at all. I should have made even more of a mess.” You teased him in a light tone, your lips already curling into a grin. With how good he looked, you refused to even try to fight it.

Rooster inhaled sharply, turning his head away from you as his face twisted in playful disappointment.

“Damn, and to think that I made a reservation for us.” He jokingly scoffed, shaking his head. He couldn’t even fight the smile on his face.

Your grin was playfully mischievous. You raised one eyebrow before you sharply inhaled as if to mimic the way he did before, pursing your lips slightly.

“Take one of your other girls. This ship,” you began in a light, yet firm tone as you used your index finger to point back and forth between the pair of you. “Has sailed.”

Rooster let out a chuckle that made your knees want to buckle, further proving to you just how easy it must have been for him to get you into bed that night. What he said next, though, that took the cake.

“I don’t want the other girls. I came here for you.” He told you so matter-of-factly, his tone reeking of casualness as he lifted his hand and momentarily stroked your cheek with his thumb.

From the way you couldn’t even fight the immediate beam that appeared on your face, Rooster let out a soft chuckle that came from deep within his chest. Your eyes rolled as your grin and your shyly flattered expression betrayed you, staring up at him through your eyelashes. You opened your mouth to jokingly insult him, but as your eyes landed on his face, you immediately found yourself stuck. At that moment, everything hit you like a ton of bricks.

The man in front of you was the father of your child.

You had only been considering his part in your pregnancy in a vague, common way, but everything was coming together in the most overwhelming way possible. Even if Rooster decided to have no part in your pregnancy and in the child’s life, your baby was permanently going to be partially made up of the man before you.

Noticing the way you fell silent, Rooster took the opportunity to take your smaller hand in his own, standing up straight. His grin remained intact on his beautiful face, blissfully unaware as to why you just fell silent.

“I will go fully fucking insane if they offer our table to someone else.” He casually chuckled under his breath as he motioned for you to come out, earning a small giggle from you as you did just that. Seeing as you had already been holding your purse, all you needed to do was lock the door.

After doing so, he led you to the quite beautiful Bronco, causing your lips to curl into a grin. You knew it was an older model, but it was taken care of as if it was brand new.

The car ride there went by smoothly. A few jokes were exchanged, your hand was being held, and the heightened part of your libido that came with pregnancy was really kicking your ass. You couldn’t look at the man for more than two seconds without shifting in your seat, causing you to look out of the window almost the entire time.

By the time you two had arrived, your table was perfectly ready for the pair of you. You silently thanked your lucky stars, as you just didn’t need him being even slightly cranky when you informed him of the parting gift he left you just two months prior.

You two sat down with ease and ordered soon after, but that wasn’t without any minor complications.

“Oh, no wine for me, please.” You quickly added once you heard Rooster order a bottle, earning a confused expression from the man. Even with the way your heart was skipping a beat, you still couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with him. His furrowed eyebrows and his broad shoulders under his open Hawaiian shirt just made you excited, and that was not an issue you wanted to deal with.

“Cramps.” You quickly excused yourself to aid his confusion, earning a look of understanding and a nod. Silently, you thanked yourself for the fact that Rooster was just another brainless man. You had to both love him and hate him for it.

Once you ordered your drink of choice and the server left, you tilted your head and sat back in your seat. You watched him sip the complimentary water that was given to you both, causing you to press your legs together under the table. You knew that if you didn’t break the silence, you’d just pounce on him.

“Are you going to tell me your name, or am I going to keep having to call you Rooster?” You questioned in a light tone, your lips curling into a soft smile as he chuckled at your question.

“It’s Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw, Rooster is my callsign.” He informed you in a low tone, raising his eyebrows slightly as you began to rub his leg with your own under the table.

“Wait.” You immediately stopped, furrowing your eyebrows. “Bradley Bradshaw…? Brad Brad?”

Seeing that you were fighting the urge to laugh, the man couldn’t even resist a chuckle of his own and shot you a warning glare. “Don’t even start.”

You let a soft giggle escape your lips as you gazed over at him mindlessly, tilting your head. It was almost as if you completely forgot what you had to tell him.

“You don’t even know my name.” You told him with a playful huff, immediately reaching for the complimentary bread that was just begging to be eaten.

“Sure I do.” He responded, reaching for a piece of the bread at the exact same time.

“Yeah?” You challenged him with an amused expression. “What is it?”

Like clockwork, there was a cheeky little grin on his face as he popped a piece of the bread into his mouth. His eyebrows furrowed as a way to fake concern for you. “Why, you don’t know your own name?”

You couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh at his response, shaking your head as his chuckle matched your own. “Asshole.”

After a few moments, your food arrived, and your thoughts began to remind you of just what was going on.

You were pregnant. Waiting any longer to tell the man wouldn’t have made any sense. He was sitting right in front of you, and God only knew when the next time that would happen would be.

Your eyes glossed over the man as he shoveled bites of food into his mouth, your head tilting to the side as your eyes furrowed slightly. Not even noticing the fact that your eyes were glued to his face, he spoke in between bites.

“I haven’t eaten since I landed. Don’t mind me eating this like I'm scared of it walking away.” He casually remarked, his lips curling into a grin as he wiped them with his napkin once he heard the sound of your light giggle.

It was no wonder why you even brought him home to begin with. He was charming, he was witty, he was funny, he was insanely attractive; Rooster truly was a million dollar man with the smile to match. Though it would just pain you to admit it, in the deepest recesses of your heart, you were glad that he was the partner you were given in such a tricky situation.

“No, no, don’t worry.” You attempted to reassure him, silently hoping that his remark wasn’t made out of any discomfort. “I’m just admiring you.”

Had the lighting in there not been so dim, you would have realized just how shyly Rooster grinned at your words. His body was slightly tense from the light form of flattery that you bestowed on him, proving to him that he truly did like you. Something about you just seemed so— different. So special.

Dinner went by smoothly. An incessant amount of flirting took place at that table, fueling your devious little crush on him. Had you not been haunted by the fact that you were carrying his baby and he was still yet to know, you wouldn’t have even considered not taking him home with you.

You two were just absolutely smitten with each other.

The ride home, though, was absolutely painful. Your chest felt very tight from the fact that you still hadn’t told him, and the warmth from his hand on your thigh could only hold you over for so long. Before you knew it, you were home. The opportunity was slipping through your fingertips.

The car came to a halt in front of your house, both relief and guilt washing over your body as it did so. Though you truly did come to love the feeling of being with Rooster, you missed a warmth from your home that even the sun could not provide. Had you not felt guilty about the fact that you still hadn’t told Rooster about the fact that you were about to be the mother of his child, being right outside of it would have drowned you in pure euphoria.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to throw the words over at him like a game of catch, but for the most aggravating reason in the world, you couldn’t. Your hand was finding its way to the door handle, despite the fact that you were silently screaming at yourself to spit it out.

Almost like he could hear you, you felt a large, warm hand gently grip yours before he pulled you over. Luckily, you had just taken your seatbelt off, so there would have been nothing to restrain you when you leaned over per his physical request.

Before you knew it, the warmest and most perfect pair of lips were pressed to yours, causing your heart to just melt inside of your chest. You lifted one of your hands and slowly pushed your fingers into his sandy blonde hair as his lips danced with yours, your eyes threatening to fill with tears. You just couldn’t fathom that being the last time you kissed him. That very well could have been the last good moment you two shared as people who liked one another, and not just as co-parents.

“What’s the matter, pretty girl?” He quietly asked with a playful grin once he detached his lips from yours, the volume of his voice mirroring the way it sounded the morning you last saw him. His long fingers were now gently massaging the very back of your scalp, your eyebrows furrowing at just how good it felt. He let out a small chuckle at your expression and pressed yet another peck to the very corner of your lips, small strands of hair from his mustache slightly tickling your skin. “Thought I’d just let you leave without giving me a kiss?”

Just like that, you felt a bolt of electricity shoot throughout your body. People all around the world walked across hot coals, went skydiving, and rode rollercoasters to replicate the adrenaline that just consumed you. For you, all it took was a small kiss from Rooster.

“Bradley, I’m pregnant.”

Silence. Pure silence.

The second the words hit the air, some might as well have dropped a bomb in the middle of the street. You wasted no time in retracting back to the passenger seat, studying the look of shock and confusion on his face.

“I know it’s confusing, I know you’re shocked. Trust me, I wasn’t exactly relieved and jumping for joy when I found out. I guess we were just too drunk to use protection, but—”

“It’s mine?” He cut you off in complete and utter surprise, his face looking awfully pale. Suddenly, your body was filled to the brim with rage.

“Who the fuck else’s would it be?” You couldn’t help but scoff, your eyebrows furrowing. You couldn’t stand the look of shock on his face. Being shocked about the baby, you understood, but being shocked that it was his? That is how he thought of you?

Rooster clearly did not enjoy your tone. He shot you a small glare as your sudden aggression filled the air, taking his keys out of the ignition. “Don’t do that. Don’t give me attitude; I have every damn right to be surprised.”

As much as you wanted to argue back, you knew that he was right. He truly did have every excuse to be surprised. Seeing as you essentially collapsed upon finding out, he was taking the news much better than you did.

“Why don’t you come inside?” You asked him in a very soft tone, earning another glance from him that made you want to implode. “I can make tea and we can talk about it.”

The silence that filled the air was deafening. At that moment, you just wanted to be completely sucked into the ground. You didn’t know if he was just going to shun you and send you on your merry way, but whatever it was, you wished he would just speak.

Very suddenly, he took his own seatbelt off and opened the door, getting out of the car. Before you could even think to open your own, he did it for you.

Even in his state of shock, he was a gentleman.

You pressed your lips together as if you were scared of what would come out if you didn’t. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you offered him a small form of gratitude for helping you out of the car, quickly retrieving the key to your house from your purse. The sound of crickets filled the night, and the scent in the air signified that it would rain soon. You usually loved smelling it when the rain was on its way, but at that moment, you felt smothered by it.

After unlocking your door with your key, you stepped inside and immediately rid yourself of your shoes, not being able to suppress the small grunt of relief when your feet were free. You were only two months along in your pregnancy, but the small heels you wore to pair with your black dress made you want to chop your feet clean off.

You tossed your keys into the bowl you had tastefully placed on an end table next to the door, rubbing your own shoulder as you heard the sound of Rooster closing and locking the door. He took his time in removing his boots, figuring you taking your shoes off was just a house rule. Had you had just a moment to recognize what he did, you would have sobbed about how sweet he was and begun to unzip his jeans.

“Which kind of tea would you like?” You asked in a soft tone as you made your way to your kitchen, feeling the presence of the aviator behind you.

“Whatever you have is fine.” He told you in a way that was not exactly cold, but certainly not warm. Regardless of that, you opened one of the cabinets and took a small box outside of it, setting it on the countertop. Once you turned to fill the kettle with water, you furrowed your eyebrows at the fact that it was missing from the stove eye it usually rested on.

Your head turned once the sound of running water hit your ears, and your lips parted at the sight.

While you were getting the box full of teabags, Rooster took it upon himself to prepare the kettle.

You didn’t have to ask, you didn't request that of him. Hell, you didn’t even expect it from him. To be quite technical, you served no greater significance to him than a woman whom he had a one-night-stand with.

Well— aside from the fact that you were about to be the mother of his children, but still.

In your house, doing his part in an action that you offered to perform, he assisted you in making tea. He wanted to. He wasn’t asked to, nor was he forced. He just— wanted to.

You knew the action was minuscule, and you knew that taking it as seriously as you were was foolish. You knew that the way tears began to fill your eyes was a bit extreme, but you were hormonal, goddamn it. In your pregnant mind, this was quite literally the nicest thing anyone had ever done for you in your entire life.

The symbolism of it all was what made you ache like no other. After spending what felt like ages in complete and utter fear of how Rooster would react to your pregnancy, the small action of preparing the kettle washed it all away like a wave crashing onto the shore. You were almost certain that the man would run out on you, or that he would simply refuse to take responsibility for his part in the situation. You knew it was wrong to assume that about a man you hardly knew, but you couldn’t refrain from fearing the worst.

The second you saw him with that kettle, though, everything changed.

He showed up for you. He was there for you, and you didn’t even have to ask him to be. Deep down, you wanted to laugh at yourself for making something as simple as filling a kettle with water and putting it on the stove into such a profound sentiment. Despite wanting to do so, you could not bring yourself to it. Just from the way he was there for you in the moment, you knew he would be there for you in the long haul.

Both of you.

“My dad died when I was still pretty young.” He broke the silence as he placed the kettle back onto the stove eye, turning it onto a high setting after doing so. He didn’t dare to look you in the eye. He refused to let you see the pain in his, and he was petrified of seeing whatever was in yours.

Your face fell at his abrupt confession, your heart now twisting in guilt as you blurted out the first thing you thought. “How old were you?”

“Two.” He responded almost immediately, his hands resting on the edges of the countertop as he leaned his head down slightly. From the way he was standing, his back looked incredibly broad, as did his shoulders. You knew the timing was awful, but the fact that you could see the slight curvature of his back muscles through his not-so-thin sweater made your mouth water. You were glad he wasn’t able to see the way you were devouring him with your eyes.

Immediately feeling guilty for the way you were lusting over a grieving man, you deeply inhaled and decided to carry the discussion a bit further. You knew that him bringing up such a topic was to slightly cover the topic of how little he knew about fatherhood, so you decided to push. “Did you have a father figure?”

“I guess, yeah.” He responded in a low tone, clearing his throat as he stood up straight. Practically feeling Carole scold him for his impoliteness, he finally turned his body to face you and leaned back against the counter very slightly. “My Uncle Tom was around as much as he could be. It was mainly my Uncle P—”

He fell silent rather abruptly, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. Before you could question it, he finished the sentence that formerly hung in the air. “Maverick. My dad’s old friend, he was flying when my dad died.”

Your eyebrows raised at his last statement. His words seemed to hold quite a bit of weight, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t curious as to why that was. You knew that pushing the topic even further would result in something neither of you would like. “And your mother?”

“Died two years ago.” He responded to you in a cool, casual tone. The fact that you brought her up after she had just crossed his mind was too ironic for him to laugh at it.

Immediately, the corners of your lips curved downward into a frown. Despite his collected posterior, you knew that the man in front of you was nothing short of haunted. With two deceased parents and an estranged uncle that formerly served as a father figure, Bradley harbored emotional trauma that would make even the strongest people wince. No one deserved that. Least of all, him.

At least he had an Uncle Tom, though, right? He seemed nice. Everyone loves Uncle Tom.

You took a deep breath as you found yourself shuffling over to the taller pilot, his gaze now tiredly placed on yours. Both of you saw what the other was trying to hide. His pain, your fear; once they were formally acquainted with one another, they disappeared. Your arms snaked around his torso before you simply laid your head on his chest, your eyelids slowly falling shut.

The warmth from his body almost completely consumed you. Rooster wrapped both of his rather strong arms around you without so much as one word. The two of you stood in each other’s arms silently, both silently scared and comforted by the fact that only you two could understand what the other was going through. It was your first embrace not as just soon-to-be parents, but as two people who cared about one another. The baby that was growing in your belly essentially acted as a Cyrano, forcing and tricking you two to realize that you were meant to be more for one another than you formerly realized.

“I don’t know how I’ll do it.” You took it upon yourself to breathe the silence with a whisper, your eyes still closed as you listened to the melancholic sound of his heartbeat mixed with the faint sound of the kettle.

“We’ll just have to figure it out, I guess.” Rooster muttered lowly to you in a way that made your heart melt, crack, drop, and burst all at the same time.

You furrowed your eyebrows in pure awe of his words. You had never felt so held by someone in your life, both physically and metaphorically. You lifted your head from his chest and looked up at the man, your desperately relieved eyes meeting his. “We will?”

“I don’t know if you know this, but I don’t think we have a choice.” Rooster teased you in a way that made you let out such a warm giggle, the grin forming on his face turning such a scary moment into something of pure beauty.

“Thank you so much, Bradley.” You abruptly whispered to him, your eyes still wondrously peering into his as you did so. “Thank you for being this nice about all of this, I— I was so scared of how you’d react. I’ve been doing nothing but panicking since I found out.”

Your voice began to tremble midway through your sentence as the sheer horror and exhaustion that you had undergone since finding out began to flash throughout your mind. You couldn’t fight the tear that fell out of your eye as you spoke, and Rooster immediately took note of it.

Before he could do anything, however, the sound of the kettle whistling to indicate that it was ready startled both of you. The pair of you looked over at the same time before you let out a soft laugh at how it tore the moment to shreds, watching Rooster simply turn the stove off. He returned to his prior position and instantly wrapped his arms around you just as he did before, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head once you laid it on his chest again.

The words he whispered to you would be engrained in your memory for the rest of your life. Any time the trials and tribulations of motherhood threatened your peace and your sanity, his words came back to you like a moth to a flame, calming you down completely.

“You don’t need to panic, pretty girl. I’m here.”

Yes.

Yes, he was.

TAGS:

@rosiahills22 @mak-32 @ghxst-heart @gretagerwigsmuse @aurisnightmare @twsssmlmaa @alldaysdreamers @mushy-mushroom04 @castle-bookworms-world @lunamooncole @maggiedanikka @mattyskies @classyunknownlover @lovelyladymayyy @adhxmoony @astroponyo @londonbeachgirl @belledawnidk @hope-love-equality2 @je-suis-prest-rachel @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ebonyhogan24 @alana4610 @affabletimelady @double-j @mrsjaderogers @littlesoulintheuniverse @bluelicious

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agentmarvel · 3 months

Text

nsfw alphabet - john price

afab!reader

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

divider credit: @/cafekitsune

♡ a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- Price is BIG on cuddling after sex. Physical touch is his love language, and despite literally just being inside you, nothing feels as intimate as holding you close in that post-coital bliss, carding his fingers through your hair and peppering kisses against your hairline while you both try to catch your breath.

♡ b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- This man is O B S E S S E D with your hips. He LOVES the way the skin indents beneath his grip when he digs his fingers in. Loves to think about his chubby little babies sitting on those hips. That appreciation isn't inherently sexual, either. The shape of your hips is unique to you, and nothing you wear disguises that. It's not a feature he found himself going crazy over until he met you.

He really takes a lot of pride in his hands. They are capable of a vast many things, most of which are only visible in intangible aftermath. But when he looks around the house he shares with you, sees all the furniture he's built, the walls he's painted; it all reminds him that his hands have made this home.

♡ c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- breeding kink. breeding kink. BREEDING KINK. John Price has the biggest breeding kink and will refuse to cum anywhere other than inside you. Birth control? Doesn't matter. He's gonna try his damnedest to test that precaution to its limits. If you end up becoming part of that failure statistic, he's perfectly fine with it.

♡ d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- John refuses to rinse his mustache after eating you out. If you go to kiss him and comment on it, he'll straight up gaslight you. Something about the scent lingering drives him crazy. He'll spend half his day adjusting himself to hide the reading hard-on from it.

♡ e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

- His experience is in the act itself, not the volume of partners. He prefers the idea of intimacy over the act of sex, but his drive is high, so he's had plenty of practice.

♡ f = favorite position

- Missionary or cowgirl! He needs to be able to see your face. Watching your eyes roll back every time you take him to the hilt is a borderline spiritual experience for him.

♡ g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

- John tends to be a little more serious because he's focused on making you feel good. Doesn't mean he's 100% serious at all times; he'll laugh or joke when it's appropriate. But he doesn't go out of his way to create those openings.

♡ h = hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

- Wild man status with this one. He's a hairy dude, and he sees no issues with being natural. Time in the field doesn't allow for regular maintenance, and he doesn't want to waste a second of his time at home worrying about it. You've never complained, so he sees no need to change.

♡ i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- Intimacy is so important to Price. He doesn't light candles and sprinkle rose petals every time you have sex, but he's very attuned to what you need in the moment. He's always looking for signs of discomfort or any inkling that you may not match his fervor, and he adjusts accordingly.

♡ j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

- John masturbates multiple times a day when he's away from home. He can't help it. He's used to cumming a frankly obscene number of times before falling asleep, and it almost feels like he's going through withdrawals if he doesn't maintain it.

♡ k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

- We've already touched on the breeding kink, but Price also has a raging daddy/authority kink. He almost exclusively wants to be called Daddy or Sir in bed, and if you call him by his rank? Don't expect to be able to walk the next morning.

♡ l = location (favorite places to do the do)

- He'll do it anywhere you let him, but he generally prefers your bed. Call him boring, but the comfort is important to him.

♡ m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- tbh, you just ✨️existing✨️ does it for him, but nothing gets him hard faster than imagining you pregnant. The thought of your souls being inextricably entwined forever through a child - a perfect mixture of the two of you - sets his soul ablaze.

♡ n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- While John is inherently the caretaker type, ageplay is a hard no. He's also not into heavy degradation. Nothing that will leave permanent marks because he feels awful even finding little bruises here and there.

♡ o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

- Man's a certified M U N C H. We're talking level 12 pussy monster. Price could find a fuck to give if it's reciprocated; he goes down on you for his own pleasure. He's so 🤤🤤🤤 at even the thought of eating you out. The technique is impeccable, and he can bring you to a convulsive orgasm in a small handful of minutes. He's not stopping until you're pushing his head away and begging him for a break.

♡ p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

- It depends heavily on what suits the moment. John is very go-with-the-flow. He's more than proficient at making love and fucking. The way you're kissing him tells him what you want. He's definitely biased towards the slow, gentle, delicate nights, but sometimes you both need the more primal nature, and he loves it all the same.

♡ q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- Quickies are a must. He's always ready to go, and it's not always the most opportune. Shower quickie before you leave for work? He's ready. Quick and dirty in the car before deployment? He's in. Bar bathroom because you absolutely cannot wait until you get home? Need only ask. They're not frequent, but he'll never say no.

♡ r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

- Always down to try something new and always trying to push the limits. Price isn't the type to shy away from a challenge. He competes with himself to see if he can get you more wound up than he did the last date night, see if he can get you barking for the check earlier than last week. No risk, no reward.

♡ s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- Despite the fact that he looks, acts, and fucks like a god, John Price is still just a man. He lasts around 15-20 minutes and has a refractory period of maybe 30, but he'll spend that half an hour between your thighs if you'll let him. He usually goes two rounds before he needs a little rest, even if he's taking up a third.

♡ t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- John doesn't own any himself, but he's 100% into using your own on you - or rather, against you. He'll buy you one of the remote or app-controlled vibrators and ask you to wear it in public. Or he'll surprise you with something he saw you eyeing online, only it won't be like a present. It's, to put it most accurately, a surprise. You won't know he bought it until he's using it.

♡ u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

- Ohhhhh, Price is a pussy tease for sure. 11/10. There's nothing he loves more than spending hours winding you up just to see you snap. It's more fun for him when he gets you to react as strongly as he constantly feels.

♡ v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

- He's a happy medium, I think. Grunts and sprinkled praise, but he isn't too loud or talkative on average. John wants you to know exactly how much he's enjoying you without it seeming forced or fake. Unless he's had a little to much to drink. Then, he won't shut up.

♡ w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

- Price has a second phone for deployments that he keeps on his person at all times. It has two layers of authentication to even reach the lock screen, which also has an obnoxiously efficient method of bypass. Hidden beneath all that security is a photo album disguised as a standard app - the calculator. An oddly specific equation has to be entered as a password. Only then will it bring up the hundreds of homemade porn files. Photos, videos, audio clips, all from his stays at home. There's a specific video that he defaults to if he needs to cum quickly; one with his cock in your mouth, somehow still noticeably smiling as he fucks your throat. Your eyes are watery but focused up on him. The sounds you make get him every time. It's almost like you're enjoying it more than he is.

♡ x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

- First, the obvious. John's a big guy - broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, tree trunk thighs, hairy af. He's built like a brick shithouse with a healthy layer of fat on his abdomen. A well-fed work horse, as he likes to boast.

6.5", slight upward curve, cut, thickkkkkkkkk like a Coke can

♡ y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

- HIGH. SO HIGH. I've mentioned it under other letters, but this man is SO HORNY. All the time. Like, this man is fucking insatiable. He'd go at it a baker's dozen times a day if you'd let him.

♡ z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep)

- Give him 10 minutes (post clean up and cuddles) and he's out cold. Once he's settled back in bed with you in his arms, everything is right with the world, and he has no reason not to relax entirely.

#john price headcanons #john price x reader #john price x you #cod x reader #cod x you #jj writes

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sin-djarin · 5 months

Text

footprints

Rating: T.

Word Count: 900ish.

Summary: Joel and Tommy stay up to wrap Sarah's Christmas gifts.

Warnings: Swearing, it's mostly fluff. Maybe some sadness. My awful spelling and grammar, probably - this was written is haste before caffeine and as such, not my finest work but sometimes you just gotta get the words out.

A/N: I made this post yesterday and hurt my own feelings. @rhoorl also mentioned the carrots.

Joel sat on the edge of his couch repeatedly glancing at his watch. Another five minutes and she’ll definitely be asleep, he thought. That was almost two hours ago. While he waited, his incisors chewed the splinters out of his fingers as Tommy sucked on a beer. The sickly sweet smell of the gingerbread house he’d helped Sarah construct earlier in the evening still lingers in his nostrils. His stomach churning as the smell of it clashed with the anxiety coursing around his bloodstream.

Don’t fuck this up.

When he thought the time was right, he gave Tommy the signal to haul in the bags of gifts from the truck that he stored at his brother’s house. Almost every night for the past month, Joel had given Tommy something else to add to the stash. Another book, another set of crayons, another stuffed animal.

Now, well into the early hours, the two brothers have set up a different kind of workshop on the hardwood floor. All of the furniture has been pushed out of the way to give themselves adequate space to wrap her gifts. Tommy sits cross legged and Joel works on his hands and aching knees. Both of them wearing deep set frowns because Joel has insisted on a single lamp as a light source.

Regardless, Joel carries on under a furrowed brow as he fights to align the paper and tape it in place, doing his best to smooth out any wrinkles and creases with his fingers afterwards.

As time passes, the area around them becomes increasingly littered with offcuts of paper and cardboard.

“Tommy.” Joel hisses through gritted teeth, his voice carrying across to his brother who’s violently ripping off another piece of tape from the roll.

“How the fuck am I supposed to wrap a football, Joel?” he mutters back, wrestling to try and cover the object with an obnoxiously large piece of snowflake patterned paper.

“Why did you take it out of the fuckin’ box-”

Joel sighs, stopping himself from arguing any further. He’s desperate to keep the house silent except for the sound of scissors gliding through paper and tape being pulled from and spat from teeth in frustration.

He has other cause for concern - how he’s going to wrap the three quarter sized guitar he’s bought for Sarah. He’s promised himself to teach her in the coming months. He’ll come home earlier and teach her basic chords.

He’ll be more patient with her than he’s being with himself right now when he realizes he’s bought too many presents and not enough gift wrap.

Don't fuck this up.

Joel makes it work. Taking the ends of two rolls, he just about manages to cover the cardboard box it comes in. His face contorts into a grimace, trying to stretch the paper to its limits far before sealing it along the edge with a piece of tape that he pulls from the back of his hand. He’ll tell Sarah that not even the elves are perfect and sometimes this happens.

When Tommy has finally wrangled the football and Joel slides the last box under the Christmas tree, the two of them stand up with a synchronized groan and look down to admire their handiwork. The bottom of it is barely visible for the small sea of boxes of all shapes and sizes.

While Tommy grins gleefully, Joel rubs his papercut fingers over his mustache and frowns - something’s missing.

“Grab me the flour from the kitchen.” Joel instructs Tommy, passing him to tiptoe to the hallway.

Tommy does as he’s told, returning with a box of cake mix in one hand and a carrot in the other, meeting Joel back in the living room who’s carrying his steel-toed work boots.

He rolls his eyes at Tommy’s efforts. Whatever. It'll work Joel thinks, slipping on his black boots that look ridiculous at the ends of his sweatpants.

Joel haphazardly sprinkles the cake mix on the floor and begins to walk in it, creating a path from the fireplace to the Christmas tree. He leans on Tommy's shoulder for support, finally off loading some pressure of the weight he's carried around for months to make sure tomorrow - today - is perfect. He presses each foot into the dusty floor, rocking back and forth slightly to create a perfect print.

Joel removes his foot and examines the print, revealing all the grooves his rubber soles have made. Not bad.

Meanwhile, Tommy takes a bite of the carrot. The loud crunch of his molars gnashing into it makes Joel throw him another death glare, pleading with him to shut up in case it echoes up to Sarah’s room.

“Dammit. You're gonna wake her.”

“Relax, she's on her third dream by now.” Tommy mumbles and tries to reassure his brother through an off-tasting carrot that coats his mouth.

Tommy puts the partially chewed vegetable down on the coffee table and Joel steps out of his boots, careful not to disturb his own footprints then walks back to his brother’s side.

“It's perfect, man.” Tommy whispers, patting Joel on the back.

It's not perfect. If Joel had his way, the entire room would be filled floor to ceiling with gifts and real snow but it’s more than his parents did for him. Still, a bittersweet smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he imagines Sarah running into his room in a few hours to wake him. The smile is followed by a contented sigh that escapes him at the thought of her leading him downstairs by the hand and her face lighting up at the sight of what Santa left for her.

“I guess,” Joel turns to Tommy, his voice something more than a hiss for the first time in hours. “I don't know how many more of these I have left, you know?”

#joel miller #tommy miller #sarah miller #pedro pascal #the last of us fanfiction

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clown-paws · 8 months

Text

> happy brian time :D just wanted to experiment with his metal plating and where it connects.

> hc stuff: i realised that because he's metal, he wouldnt blush (unacceptable) so i came up with the design hc that he has LEDs on his cheek plates that light up, either when he's awake or when his body heats up. he also just makes me think of lions when i see him lol, and wanted to give him a feline type of nose?and of course, copper wire hair, though its not obvious. i like him normal amount i swear i promise guys.

> id below and in alt text-

[Image Description: A digital painting of Drumbot Brian from The Mechanisms. It is a bust painting at a 3/4 angle to the left. He is smiling, top teeth showing, and looking off to the side. Brian's metal is a light orange, and a more saturated orange at the tip of his nose. His metal plating is connected around his face, ear and neck, which leads down to his partially exposed chest plating, with red L.E.D.s lining his cheek to imitate blush. His face has small bolts on the metal, and his neck has slightly larger ones. One of his teeth is more gold than the others. He has a fiery ginger beard, and mustache and long, curly hair of the same colour. He is wearing his black top hat, with gold goggles and a rose sitting on it's brim. The goggles strap is black, and the glass is cracked in both goggles. The collar of his white shirt is visible, but noting more. He is wearing a gold bolt shaped earring. The background is a grey-tinted purple.

End ID.]

#the mechanisms #the mechs #the mechanisms fanart #doods art #drumbot brian #drumbot brian fanart #dbb #lost in the cosmos #image described #id in caption #id in alt text #id included

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artemisthewh0re · 1 year

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Don't Go

Adam Sackler x Chubby Black Reader

Warnings: piv, biting, unprotected sex, whiny men

A/N: I finally finished. I feel like my dialogue is so bad 🥹

P.s. thank you for the people who signed up for my taglist ❤️❤️

"Can I just have one more kiss?" Adam looks up at you, pathetic puppy eyes and a pouty lip accompany his question.

"Ugh," you sigh, relenting to your boyfriend's demands. His little mustache tickles your upper lip as you place another light kiss on his lips. Large arms wrap around your waist and pull you down to Adam's lap.

"Adam come on, you know I have to go." Pitiful whines come from your childish boyfriend as he keeps his hold on your waist.

"No you don't, we both know you don't want to see your parents. Just don't go." It was true, you really didn't, but not showing up would just make things more difficult with them.

"Baby, I do have to go. I promise I'll give you all the kisses and cuddles you could possibly want when I get back."

"You can be a little late though," Adam flashes his signature devilish grin at you. His hands wander across your back, pushing your bodies closer together. Little pecks are placed on your chest, going from your collarbone to your breasts.

"Baby," you groan, knowing that you're going to be trapped in his apartment for at least the next thirty minutes. You sigh and let your frame relax into Adam's touch. Your fingers wander up his neck to his short black hair, the silky strands tickle your knuckles when you push your hand through them.

The warmth of your two bodies pressed against each other only encourages you both to start undressing. Adam rips off his shirt without a second thought. He reaches to unbutton yours but you stop him before he can.

"Uh uh," you wag a finger at him. "Remember the last time I let you undo the buttons on my shirt? You popped them all off." You carefully undo one at a time as Adam pouts.

"It was an accident," he states, pulling off your bra after you removed your shirt. Your large breasts fall as they're released from their confinement. Adam holds one in his hand, rubbing the nipple with his thumb. The sensation sends heat to your core, causing a pool to form in your underwear. Your hips move mindlessly to find friction against your aching clit. Adam's crotch provides the much needed pressure. His sweatpants are tented from the grinding and his cock is begging for more attention.

"You just can't wait to have this dick, can you?" Adam says cockily. He pushes you onto the couch. His lips are immediately on your neck, his crooked teeth leave little bites on your sensitive skin.

"Don't leave any marks! I don't want my parents questioning me more than they already will," you beg, lightly smacking his shoulder. Adam only chuckles at your plea. His fingers move to your jeans, taking them off your thick thighs swiftly along with his own sweats.

His cock is flushed with pink. A large throbbing vein is visible running through it. The tip weeps precum from its slit. Adam inserts himself slowly into you, making sure you feel every inch ease in. A moan escapes your lips as he starts thrusting into you.

"Oh this pussy was ready for me huh?" Adam whispers against your temple. Your wetness coats his shaft as he goes in and out of you, leaving your entrance covered in slick.

"Oh shut up," you respond, grabbing Adam's stubbled jaw and pressing his lips against yours. He moans into the kiss. You can feel the vibrations of it move from your mouth to your throat, down to your chest. As the thrusts get harder, your head bobs up and down, hitting the armrest on the couch.

"Ouch," you laugh, rubbing the top of your head. Your braids manage to soften the blow, but it still hurts nonetheless.

"Switch?" Adam asks, partially concerned for your head, but mostly thinking about how much he loves to see you ride him. You oblige him. His back hits the couch as you slide yourself down on his dick. You both let out a moan at the feeling of him sinking into you. Adam's hands move your hips at the perfect pace, allowing your orgasm to build in your core.

"Fuck, yes!" Adam shouts. His breathing is heavy and ragged. "Just like that." You bounce up and down on Adam, the curve of his dick hitting just the perfect spot to leave you shuddering.

Adam's chest is warm against your hands. His abs tense up and his grip tightens on your hips as he gets closer to his orgasm. The way your ass slams down on his thighs, and your breasts hang over his face, hypnotize him. The face you make when your climax finally overtakes you sends Adam over the edge. He bucks his hips into you, overstimulating your sore cunt.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Adam spills inside you. His teeth grit as you sit there quivering on his sensitive tip. Your face is dewy with sweat, and your once sophisticated makeup is left looking like you'd spent the day in a sauna.

"You look bad, kid," Adam chuckles, teasing you.

"I fucking hate you."

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premenstrualhomicide · 4 months

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2023 intentional feminism [SUCCESS]

hey ladies! about a year and a half ago i finally wrote a list of feminist goals for myself, and as of this month, i've completed them all. intentional feminist action is something that has become very important to me and has effectively improved my confidence, body neutrality, social awareness, and overall wellbeing. i'm really proud of myself so i thought i'd share my success with y'all and talk a little bit about the journey.

GOAL #1: STOP WEARING SKIN MAKEUP

this was one of the first ones i completed, although getting comfortable with the change took a bit longer. i threw out all concealers, foundations, etc. shortly after writing my list of goals, and luckily my frugality saved me from going out and buying more in moments of low self-esteem. the hardest part of this goal was when, about 9 months after i had stopped wearing skin makeup, i developed a chronic illness that frequently flares up and is very visible. since then, i have had many days where i have to force myself to go out with blotchy, red, even bruised skin covering my face, and limbs. it's been difficult to adjust to strangers staring at me, but i'm really proud to say i've grown more comfortable in my skin as a result and have not given in to the urge to cover my symptoms with makeup.

GOAL #2: STOP WEARING EYE MAKEUP

eyeliner was a lot harder to surrender. in my teenage years, i wore a lot of eyeliner, often sharp and dramatic wings. i leaned heavily into the alternative style because i felt i wasn't attractive enough to perform femininity in the more traditional or conventional way. so for many months after giving up my concealer, i still wore eyeliner frequently. but in the year 2023, i've worn eye makeup a total of 1 time (with the exception of costume/cosplay makeup). it's a difficult thing to let go of, because almost all the pictures i have of myself as a teenager depict me with my eyes neatly framed with dark wings. and i'll admit it: it looks fantastic on me. but i've found ways to keep myself from falling back into that addiction, like not taking selfies of myself as frequently as i used to, not using social media, practicing body neutrality, and remembering the ultimate reason i'm doing this: to help other women feel comfortable in their natural state.

GOAL #3: STOP BUYING UNCOMFORTABLE CLOTHES

right now my wardrobe contains quite a few tiny skirts, crop tops, and other mobility-restricting, revealing articles of clothing. i'm slowly phasing them out as i shift my apparel to more oversized clothes, sweaters, men's jeans, professional suits for my career, and long skirts in which i can easily move. what has helped is a new job at a company that sells bras, panties, pajamas, and loungewear to women who want to be comfortable. we provide a less objectifying alternative to stores like victoria's secret, and so my employee discount has made it easy to stock up on unbelievably soft cardigans, pajamas, and wireless bras.

GOAL #4: STOP SHAVING

two things i learned after i stopped shaving: 1. there's a significant number of women who don't shave but have such fine/light body hair that it appears as though they shave regularly. 2. i am not one of those women. shaving had been a sisyphean struggle for me since the age of 12. my body hair is dark, grows quickly, and will do everything in its power to make "smooth legs" impossible. i remember years of researching different methods of shaving and hair removal, googling how to prevent "strawberry legs", buying various creams and lotions and exfoliants just so i could obtain that air-brushed look that seemed to come naturally to all the girls around me. giving up on shaving forced me to confront the truth: i am a hairy woman. i have hairy arms, hairy legs, hairy toes, i even have some visible mustache hair. while i will sometimes meet women at university who don't use makeup for any number of reasons (yay!), it is very rare that i see other women with hairy legs. and god have i been searching. in fact, i can only think of one time in this year and a half i've seen another female who visibly doesn't shave, and then i found out they don't even identify as a woman. very disheartening. i'll keep wearing shorts and being hairy in hopes that my female peers and younger girls will have a change of heart, but for now it still feels a bit alienating.

GOAL #5: JOIN A FEMINIST ISSUES ORGANIZATION

!!!!!!! very proud to say i had the opportunity to work for the Feminist Majority Foundation during this past election season. my state had a very critical piece of pro-choice legislation on the ballot in november, so my job was to canvass students on and off my campus, and to provide reliable information about the issue. so happy to have played a role in securing abortion rights for women in my state. for any women wanting to get involved with feminist orgs and potentially make some money, the FMF has a great list of job listings!

GOAL #6: JOIN AN ALL-WOMEN CLUB

this is similar to goal #5, but i wanted to find a space where i could be away from men, but without the pressures of activism or employment. i just wanted a fun, preferably creative activity i could do with women! and this month, i was approved to join a feminist writing/art publication at my university! i'm on their design team, so i get to make cool t-shirt designs and will help with the aesthetics and layout of the publication once we have all of our submissions in. it's about 8 female students, all of which identify as women which is always a plus, and i'm having a blast so far. female separatism isn't something that's realistic for me at this point in my life, but having little groups like this away from males is really comforting.

GOAL #7: SOCIALLY SURROUND MYSELF WITH (MOSTLY) WOMEN

like i said above, i'm no hard separatist. it's a dream that maybe i'll be able to reach someday when i have more financial independence, but for now i do frequently interact with men. i have a couple male friends, i have a good relationship with my brother and my dad, and there's always going to be men in my classes. this goal was intended to remedy the issue i encountered during my teenage years: i'd spent so long removing myself from the idea of womanhood that i barely had any female friends. for the same reasons i didn't feel like a woman for a long time, i didn't interact with women on a personal level for years. there's a few ways i have worked to fix this in 2023. first, i have made substantial progress in mending my relationship with my mom. we hadn't been close since i was very young, and the fact that i related more to my dad only further pushed us apart. i always had seen her as a traditionalist, because she had some outdated beliefs and didn't affirm my gender identity when i was identifying as trans, but post-peak reflection made me realize she was incredibly progressive for her era. she had a college degree, she waited a long time to have children, she was independent and competitive. i took time to apologize to her for the things i said in past years, and acknowledged her positive impact on me as a woman. we spend more time together now and are planning a road trip together in january :) i also try to prioritize making plans with the female friends i have made at university. it's fun to find events to bring them to, or just to have dinner together. in addition, i had the opportunity to travel abroad with three women, and the (somewhat terrifying) experience provided some wonderful bonding. two of the three are now some of my closest friends. finally, i now have a part-time job at a women's intimates store, like i said above. every employee there is a woman, and i'm the youngest, so it's given me a chance to interact with a wide variety of ages. some of them are grandmothers, some of them have never had kids, some of them are married, some of them are divorced. it's the sweetest group of women and i especially love talking to my manager, a tall, loud, 50-year-old misandrist who lives alone with dogs she's rescued from abusive homes and spends her money on travel and her passion for football. i really value time and conversation with older women now.

2023 has been a year of purging. i've cleansed my life of beauty routines, body expectations, my ex-boyfriend (ew), and it's given me the strength to continue my self-improvement and feminist work. i started the year still struggling with eating disorder recovery, recently assaulted by my ex-boyfriend, and frequently having nightmares. now, my grades have improved, i often surprise myself with how little i care about my appearance, and i've stopped having sex with men.

for 2024, my goal is to continue my cleansing work and to make it a year of cultivation. i want to cultivate my education and to cultivate skills like sewing my own clothes, cooking, growing food, and writing fiction. in addition, i will cultivate the female relationships i've established. wish me luck, and happy new year! :)

#feminism #long post #radfem #radical feminism #radfems do interact

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dotster001 · 1 year

Text

People Will Say We're in Love

Summary:Yves x gn!reader. In which Rio, Licht, Leon, and Jin give indisputable evidence of how you and Yves love eachother.

A/N: inspired by this song. For those of you who know this song, you won't be surprised that as a classically trained soprano I have worked with this song a lot 😭 doesn't make it any less cute though! Tbh, Yves is such a Laurie, and I should totally do a "many a new day" song fic for him 😂

Why do they make up stories that link my name with yours? Why do the neighbors gossip all day behind their doors?

"I'm not in love with Prince Yves!"

You cried as Rio helped get your outfit together for the day.

"Y/N, I know you better than anyone. You adore him."

"I do not. What would even make you think that?"

"Well…"

I know a way to prove what they say is quite untrue. Here is the gist, a practical list of don'ts for you.

"Do you even hear yourself? I'm not in love with Y/N."

Leon, Jin, and Licht (of all people!) smirked at each other.

"I know that look! Get rid of it, I'm not in love with Y/N!"

"I guess we have to compile the evidence, gentlemen," Leon said with a laugh.

"Well, we knew our Evie wouldn't be easy to convince. Licht, please present exhibit a."

Don't throw bouquets at me.

"There was that time I brought you both tea in the garden…"

"That rose reminds me of you," you pointed to a soft pink rose growing all alone in a bush of red roses.

Yves didn't say anything, but honestly that usually meant you had either flustered or irritated him beyond speech.

You plucked the flower and put it behind his ear, brushing a stray piece of hair out of his face as you did so.

"Beautiful," You whispered.

Yves cheeks flushed a light pink that matched the rose in his hair, and his lips slightly parted.

"Tea time!" Rio said loudly, and the both of you stepped apart awkwardly.

Don't please my folks too much.

"The way Y/N is always ready to take care of us-"

"But especially our little Licht."

"Evie, seriously, one time Y/N-"

You looked over at Licht's plate. It had far more carrots than usual. You figured he must have done something to upset Sariel, but it was clearly making him upset. And an upset Licht, meant an upset Evie.

When Sariel had his back turned to shout at Clavis, you quickly grabbed the carrots of Licht's plate and stuffed them in your mouth, much to Licht's visible horror.

Don't laugh at my jokes too much.

"He thinks you're so funny…"

"Evie, Evie look!" You said, biting back a giggle.

He turned to look at you, took in the whipped cream mustache you had drawn on your face. He snorted, clearly trying to look irritated that you "wasted" ingredients, but then he burst out laughing.

People will say we're in love.

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"Yves, those were cooked carrots! They were mushy and slimy! No one would eat those willingly unless they had something to prove to someone!"

"Maybe Y/N has a crush on you, then! And that doesn't prove I'm in love with Y/N!"

Don't sigh and gaze at me

"Then why do you stare at them longingly?"

"I do not!"

"I've romanced enough to know a longing look…"

Yves hadn't touched his book in an hour. He'd just been watching you. The way you turned the page. The way your chest rose and fell as you breathed. The way your lips slightly quirked up when you liked what was happening in your book.

Enchanting.

He heaved a heavy sigh of contentment, but quickly put on an irritated look when you made eye contact and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"You're breathing too loudly," he muttered, staring at his page.

Your sighs are so like mine

Yves brushed a bead of sweat from his forehead, before continuing to whisk the eggs.

The concentration in his eyes, the tension in his arms revealing his muscles that you didn't often think about, his furrowed brow and his beautiful blond hair flopping in and out of his face.

You sighed to yourself. He was so beautiful.

Your eyes mustn't glow like mine.

Leon had brought you both some cocoa, but had now stopped to watch.

You and Yves were both in your pajamas, sitting side by side on a balcony, watching a meteor shower.

Both of your eyes glittered in excitement, and Leon watched as your head slowly, subconsciously, settled onto Yves' shoulder, and Yves' head settled on top of yours, nuzzling against it.

Leon smiled to himself and walked away.

People will say we're in love

"I give you flowers all the time," you said with a pout, the evidence rising against you starting to be difficult to defend against.

Rio laughed. "Those are friendship flowers. That's different. Your eyes don't glitter like they do when you give Yves flowers."

Rio booped your nose, clearly not done with his list of evidence against you.

Don't start collecting things

Yves had left his hairbrush in your room. You kept forgetting to give it back. As his next bit of evidence, Rio, who you had no idea knew it was there, pulled it out with a triumphant grin.

"Why haven't you given this back yet?"

"I keep forgetting!"

"So if I gave it back to him right now, while we both remember-"

"No!" You grabbed it from Rio, and clutched it close to your chest, ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks from Yves' remaining scent on the brush.

Give me my rose and my glove.

"So when do you intend to return Y/N's pillow case?" Jin asked with a smirk.

Licht and Leon both stared at Yves in shock, and Yves shrank in his chair as his face burned a bright red.

"Y/N let me borrow it when Clavis placed that goo bomb in my pillow," he attempted to defend. But even he knew it was a poor excuse. That had been months ago.

"Why would our sweet little Yves be holding on to a peasant's pillowcase?" Leon asked with a smirk.

"Their scent helps me sleep," he muttered.

Jin and Leon burst into a grin, while Licht's lips quirked upward.

Sweetheart they're suspecting things

'Twas a day later, and you were reading in the library, hoping to find something super romantic to confess your feelings to Yves.

Speak of the devil…

"Oh, Y/N, there you are. I was," he coughed, and began again. "I was hoping you'd come bake with me."

"Sure," you hastily hid the book you were reading, and followed him to the kitchen. "Anything in particular?" You asked.

"Carrot cake," he muttered.

You gave a mock gasp, and laughed. "What did Licht do?"

He glanced over at you with a smirk. "Don't worry it's not just him, he's just the only one I can get back at with baking."

People will say we're in love.

Licht, Rio, Leon, and Jin were all listening to you both through the door. Neither had confessed, but you might as well have, the way you were laughing and chatting together like a long married couple.

They heard footsteps come down the hallway, but were too happy to look at the person.

"Simpletons," they heard with a heavy sigh, but all of them noticed the "person" did not walk away, and remained listening to the two of you.

#ikemen prince #yves kloss x reader #yves kloss #ikepri #ikepri yves #ikemen prince x reader

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anonymouspuzzler · 1 year

Text

hey, it's a couple comics with the new blorbos!! I've been trying to make little one-off comics to practice drawing 'em, plus test out writing and characterization and such. it's been a lot of fun and I have more I want to do soon..!!!

bonus, a little one that, unfortunately for us all, really does sum up the dynamics:

(detailed image descriptions slash transcripts under the readmore!)

COMIC 1: BUCK MAKES COFFEE Panel 1 shows Buck (a middle-aged, barrel-chested white man with a bushy reddish mustache and two tufts of hair on an otherwise-bald square head), wearing his sleepwear (an off-white t-shirt that exposes his stomach, and forest green pajama pants), standing in a kitchen with orange wallpaper, staring at a 60's-style coffee-maker on top of a teal counter. He has an expression like he's just woken up and is reaching back to scratch his ass. Buck (thinking): ...hm. Wonder if Dynamo likes coffee...?

Panel 2 cuts in closer on Buck, who is looking thoughtful and reaching up with his other hand to scratch his mustache. Buck (thinking): Guess I could ask once he's awake...? But I dunno if he should even have any while he's still busted up-- Davey (off-screen): Oh!! Hey, good! You are still here!

Panel 3 cuts to Davey (a middle-aged, lanky Black man with long curly brown hair, a thin mustache, a diagonal scar from the top-left to bottom-right of his face, and right arm amputated at the shoulder) walking in a doorway. He is wearing blue boxer shorts and still has the amputated stump of his arm and some of his chest wrapped in bandages. There are also band-aids on his torso, elbow and ring finger. He is pointing up at the scar on his face, smiling and winking, with shoujo-style sparkles all around him. Davey: You were gone when I woke up, so I thought maybe you went out or something. Anyway, I'm feeling way better!! Got up and walked around without any vertigo, even! And look how well the stitches you did are healing!!

Panel 4 cuts back to Buck, who has turned slightly to look at Davey. His eyes are wide and he is blushing furiously, looking flustered. Buck (thinking, each sentence in a scattered thought bubble across the panel): OH NO HE'S HOT. okay calm down play it cool. say something clever already. BE NORMAL. quit staring at him oh my GOD. you have your whole rivals thing to maintain say something snarky. or just offer him coffee I don't know you gotta say SOMETHING

Panel 5 shows Davey from behind, looking at Buck with a mildly confused smile. Buck, still visibly blushing and flustered, leans back against the counter with one arm, the other on his hip, trying and failing to look casual. Davey: ...uh. Can I help with anything-- Buck (speech bubble overlapping Davey's and breaking out of frame slightly) DO YOU COFFEE

Panel 6 (the last panel) cuts to the other side as Buck, looking mortified, hunches over the counter facing away from Davey. Behind him, Davey stands with his arm stiff at his side, visibly holding back laughter and beginning to blush furiously. Buck (thinking, represented by faded words behind him, cut off in sections by Buck, the coffee maker and/or the edge of the frame): OH GOD O[cut off] NO WHAT TH[cut off]L IS WRON[cut off]TH YOU HE'[cut off]NG TO THINK YOU'RE A TOTAL ASOCIAL FREAK LIKE GOD DAMN BUCK [cut off] IS YO[cut off]FU[cut off] TALKIN[cut off] PEOPL[cut off]OW DO[cut off] SCREW [cut off]P THIS [cut off]ADLY Davey (thinking): HAHA OH NO An arrow pointing at Davey: instantly in love

COMIC 2: THE COMPUTER IS BROKEN Panel 1 shows a concerned Davey (hair in a ponytail and wearing a red leather helmet with built-in orange-lensed round goggles over his eyes, a light-blue pair of overalls, a brown leather glove on his left hand, and a prosthetic right arm made of various kitchen appliances and car parts) holding an old beige laptop that is emitting dark clouds of smoke. Behind him, looking on in concern, is Buck (wearing goggles on top of his head, a forest-green turtleneck sweater, brown gloves, and khaki pants), and Minerva AKA Minnie, a prepubescent white girl with freckles and red hair in giant twin braids. Minnie is wearing a white school uniform shirt with golden-yellow stripes on the sleeves, a light yellow sweater tied around her shoulders, and beige fingerless gloves, with her nails painted black. All three of them are totally silent, with a speech bubble with three ellipses coming from Davey.

Panel 2 cuts closer to Buck, on the left, glaring incredulously down at Minnie, who is shouting back indignantly and throwing her hands in the air. In the background, Davey is cradling the still-smoking laptop as if trying to reassure it. Buck: What did you DO? Minnie: NOTHING!! It's not my fault your ancient laptop barely works! Davey (in a tiny speech bubble as if under his breath): She doesn't mean it, baby.

Panel 3 shows Buck leaning over with one hand on his hip, the other shoving away a furious-looking Minnie by the top of her head. He is looking with mild concern over at Davey, who is clutching the laptop protectively to his chest, grimacing. Buck: Anyway... What's the diagnosis? Need me to steal a newer model? Davey: And deal with a planned-obsolescence brick of pure bloatware? Absolutely not. Trust me, I'll replace any parts that got fried and she'll be better than new.

Panel 4 shows Davey sitting down at a table, placing the laptop down. Minnie launches herself into a seat on the left side, stretching her arms out across the table, with a mischievously delighted grin. Minnie: Wait-- so you can swap out any parts? Could you add, like - a missile launcher code? Or hacking software? Or an infinite gil generator?

Panel 5 shows Davey turning to look directly at Minnie, who looks back with a neutral expression. Panel 6 then shows Davey leaning down towards her with a wide, knowing grin, while Minnie, grimacing, looks away guiltily. Davey: Minnie, did you brick the laptop playing the critically acclaimed MMORPG Final Fantasy XIV, [the rest of the meme text is in a word balloon that fades into the background behind him and Minnie] Minnie: you can't prove anything

Panel 7 cuts to Buck scratching his head, looking off to the side in confusion. Minnie is in the far foreground to the right, rolling her eyes. Buck: Final Fantasy...? Like... the thing on Playstation? Minnie: UGH YOU'RE SO OLD Buck: Is Barrett still in it? He was always my favorite.

Panel 8 shows Davey, to the left, and Minnie, in front, both sitting at the table, with Buck seen from behind in the foreground, facing Davey. Minnie has her arms folded on the table and is resting her chin on her forehead, looking up at Davey, looking slightly fed up. Davey is sitting with his legs crossed, prosthetic arm folded over his knee, left elbow resting on one knee so he can pose flirtatiously with his hand on his chest and a smug, playful grin, with sparkles and hearts coming off of him. Davey: Your favorite was the Black guy with a big metal arm, fighting against a corrupt system, with a heart of gold under it all...? Buck (visibly blushing): Shut up and fix the laptop, Davey

[Bonus, inline comic description: Minnie, left, and Buck, right, sitting in a car. Buck is in the drivers seat wearing a beige jacket over his turtleneck and round, orange-lensed goggles over his eyes, staring straight ahead, expression hidden by the goggles and his mustache. He has his right hand on the steering wheel while his left arm leans against the window. Minnie is sitting in the passenger seat with both hands resting on a rat cage in her lap, in which Oreo, a black and white rat, can be seen peeking out. She is looking over at Buck with eyes narrowed and one eyebrow raised. Minnie: why does Davey call you babygirl Buck: how about we stop talking for a little while.]

#anonymous puzzler art #tw for bare chest and amputation slash missing limb #i love my new blorbos so much guys.#anonymous puzzler originals #Villain Coded comic

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monkeythefander · 3 months

Text

A Witch and a Baby

Chapter 4: A Chaotic First Meeting

Summary: Logan and Roman are now good friends and things are going well in his life. But his life gets a bit more interesting one night, when a chaotic stranger suddenly enters his life.

Content Warnings: Breaking into someone’s home (it’s just Remus so nothing bad results from this), singing to calm a baby down (the merman’s singing is partly calming due to magic), Remus is shirtless just because, food mention (specifically cereal and baby formula), Remus briefly talks about wanting to take Logan’s eyes (he doesn’t though), let me know if I missed anything else.

Relationships: All platonic, but Remus thinks Roman and Logan are dating for a moment. They are not though.

Click below the cut to read the chapter.

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After meeting Roman properly for the first time, Logan’s nights became more enjoyable. Whenever Janus struggled to fall asleep, Logan would tap the gem on his bracelet and Roman would appear to help. The baby really seemed to enjoy the merman’s songs and Logan found the music soothing too, and would sometimes fall asleep from it.

When Logan didn’t fall asleep right away, Roman would keep him company and the two would discuss all kinds of things. Although they mostly spoke about Greek mythology, poetry, and books they’ve both read. These conversations eventually transferred into the day time as well. The two men would meet up at a cafe in the village to talk with each other, and would sometimes go to the library together. Janus would come with Logan most of the time, since the witch couldn’t always find a babysitter. But when Logan did leave Janus with a babysitter, it was typically Patton.

———————————-

One night, after putting Janus to bed Logan heard noise coming from another part of his cottage. Both on guard and curious, Logan quietly left his bedroom, shutting the door so he’d know to go protect Janus if he heard the door creak open.

Logan silently walks towards the noise, which appears to be coming from his small study. He stands on the side of the doorway and leans slightly to the side to peak in. He then watches as a figure looks through his bookshelf, throwing some books carelessly to the floor. Logan frowned at the sight of his books being handled so roughly. That’s no way to take care of a book.

Logan went to take a step forward, wanting to sneak up behind the intruder and confront them. But once he took the first step the floor made a creaking sound and the figure startled and turned around, making eye contact with Logan. The study’s lights were off and the moon wasn’t visible through the one window in the room, so the only part of the figure Logan could make out were their green eyes, which appeared to be glowing in the dark. Something about that shade of green seemed familiar. Where had he seen eyes like that before?

Suddenly, the figure started walking forward and Logan backed up as they left the darkness of the study and stood in the light of the hallway. Now that he could see the figure clearly, Logan could tell why the eyes seemed familiar. The intruder looked similar to Roman. He had green eyes, red hair, and was wearing pants that had a scaled pattern to them. But unlike Roman, this intruder had a mustache, a gray streak in his hair, green colored pants, and wasn’t wearing a shirt.

After examining the intruder’s appearance, Logan noticed he appeared to be observing Logan’s appearance as well.

“So…you’re the one my brother keeps running off to see so much.” The man then suddenly leans closer to Logan’s face, just staring at his eyes for a few awkward moments before exclaiming, “Your eyes are a very nice shade of gray! Can I have them?!”

“Um….no you cannot. I’d like to keep my eyes for myself.” Logan replies, very confused by this eccentric stranger. Once he got his bearings again, the witch then proceeded to ask the important questions. “Who are you? And how and why did you enter my home?” Logan knew some defensive spells from memory, so if things went wrong he knew he’d be able to defend himself. But first, he wants to hear the intruder’s story.

“Oh! I’m Remus! You can probably guess by my appearance but I might as well say that I’m Roman’s twin brother. To answer your second question, I simply picked the lock on your door and entered the house. I wanted to find out who had caught my twin’s attention so much that he’s been out a night so much lately.” Remus explains with a smirk.

“…Your Roman’s brother?” Logan stared in shock at the man. While it was clear Remus and Roman looked similar, the two clearly had very different personalities. Despite just meeting Remus, Logan could tell that the merman was very chaotic. After all, Remus did break into the cottage. He clearly doesn’t care too much about the law.

“Yes! I got tired of my brother leaving me alone so much. I wanted to go on the adventure, so I came here and found you!” Remus says and he points a finger at Logan. “So tell me, what has my twin been doing with you here so often. Are you his boyfriend? Because if so, then I don’t know why he didn’t tell me. We promised as kids to tell each other about any relationships we have in the future. My own brother has betrayed me! I’ve been stabbed in the back!” The merman then dramatically places a hand on his chest, as if in pain.

Logan sighs and tiredly shakes his head. “I thought Roman was dramatic at times, but you seem even more eccentric than him. And to answer your question, no, your brother and I aren’t dating. So he hasn’t betrayed you. Roman is my friend though. He’s mainly been coming over here to help me put my son to bed whenever he can’t stop crying.”

“So you’re telling me I��m basically an uncle now, and I wasn’t told about this! Roman has basically been playing house with you here and I wasn’t invited to join this family. I must meet my nephew now!” Remus says before he starts to curiously look around the hallway. “Where’s the little gremlin?”

“You’re not an uncle. Roman isn’t my son’s other dad. He’s just a friend who helps me out. But since you wanted to know what your brother gets up to here, I might as well introduce you to Janus anyway. But you need to be quiet. I put him to sleep before coming out here to look for you.”

“Okay!” Remus shouts before quickly correcting himself, “Okay, I’ll be extra quiet. I can be really sneaky when I need to.”

Logan sighs again before motioning for Remus to follow him towards the bedroom. The two men enter the room to see Janus sleeping peacefully in his crib. Logan glances at Remus to see him staring in what looks like amazement at Janus.

“He has scales on his face. Is he part dragon? Snake? Does he also have magic like you? I noticed all the spell books you have so I know you’re probably a witch.” Remus rambles quietly as he continues to admire the scales on the baby’s face.

“I think his scales resemble snake scales the most. And I don’t think he has magic, at least not right now. He might develop some in the future since he was created through a spell by the Dragon Witch. And you’re correct in assuming that I’m a witch.” Logan replies. Logan is impressed by how observant the merman seems to be. Remus noticed all the spell books and correctly assumed that Logan was a witch.

“You’ve met the Dragon Witch?! I’ve always wanted to meet her since hearing stories about how powerful she was when I was a kid! Can you introduce me?!” Remus shouts excitedly, forgetting about being quiet. This causes Janus to wake up and start crying. Remus looks over to the now awake and crying baby before looking to Logan apologetically.

“I’m sorry magic man. Let me make up for disturbing the gremlin.” Remus says quietly and walks closer to the crib before Logan can question what he’s going to do. The merman then kneels before the crib and starts singing a lullaby. His singing voice is more raspy than Roman’s, but it’s still just as soothing and Janus soon falls back asleep. Remus then looks to Logan and smiles slightly. “He’s okay now.”

“I can see that. Thank you for calming him back down. But please try to not disturb him again while you’re here. We can continue talking in the living room so we don’t disturb Janus.” Logan replies with a small smile on his face.

“You want to keep talking to me?” Remus asks, tilting his head in surprise and confusion.

“Yes. You had some questions before that I didn’t get to answer. And since you helped with Janus and seem harmless, I’d like to keep talking to you.” Logan says. The witch can tell that like him, Remus probably struggles when it comes to friendships. The merman only mentioned his brother and was clearly upset that Roman kept leaving him alone to hang out with Logan.

Remus smiles and replies, “Okay. I’d like to talk to you more too. You seem interesting, magic man.”

Logan smiles back and motions for Remus to follow him to the living room. The two then spend a good portion of the night just talking about whatever comes to mind. Logan tells Remus about the Dragon Witch, and answers any other questions the merman has. In return, Remus answers any questions Logan has about the magic of merpeople and life under the water. Eventually the two notice how late it’s gotten and Logan says they should probably get some sleep. The witch lets Remus stay the night on the couch and Logan goes back to his room to rest.

The next day, the two men and Janus eat breakfast together (the adults have cereal and Janus has a bottle of baby formula). Remus and Logan continue discussing random things and end up realizing they really like spending time together. After breakfast, Remus decides he should go home since Roman is probably wondering where he’s been. Logan agrees and walks Remus to the door.

“Thanks for stopping by. Despite you breaking in and initially startling me, I enjoyed getting to know you. Would you want to meet up again sometime? Without the breaking in part.” Logan asks, feeling more comfortable initiating hang-outs with potential friends.

Remus gives a big smile and nods, “Sure, I’d love to hang out again. And this time, I’ll knock on the door to let you know I’m here. Or I guess you know where to find me too since you probably know where my brother and I live.”

“Yes, I know where you two reside. Now you should probably get going before Roman starts to look for you.” Logan says and watches as Remus nods in agreement. Before leaving though, Remus quickly hugs Logan before pulling away and turning around.

“Goodbye, magic man! See you around.” Remus says with a smirk before walking away. Logan stands in surprise for a moment and watches Remus leave. The witch hadn’t expected to receive a hug right away. Patton was a hugger but he didn’t initiate hugs until he and Logan had been friends for a while.

Logan smiles to himself. That hug was nice, and he could definitely see himself getting used to sudden hugs from Remus in the future.

—————————————————————

End Notes: Thanks for reading chapter 4 of “A Witch and a Baby.” Please consider leaving a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyed it. I know I probably didn’t write Remus as well as I could have, but I tried to somewhat portray his chaotic energy. There will probably be two more chapters after this, and then I’ll have completed this fanfic.

-Monkey💜

—————————————————

Links for this fanfic

Link to the next part: To be added

Link to previous part: https://www.tumblr.com/monkeythefander/739099978507714560/a-witch-and-a-baby-chapter-3-a-lullaby-from-a

Link to this chapter on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52055863/chapters/135705025

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #a witch and a baby sanders sides fanfic #logan sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders mention #the dragon witch mention #her name is Delaney #witch logan sanders #baby janus sanders #merman roman sanders #merman remus sanders #sanders sides fantasy au

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zlomudry · 4 months

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As promised, he knows. He knew the moment Foolish crossed the mountains. It had been so tragically long since he had guests and he wanted to pull out all the stops for "the mushroom man". Calling him 'Foolish' rang like an insult and being a good host was branded into his DNA just as much as his curly coal black hair, though it was now salt and pepper with age and life's trials.

Both patiently and impatiently waiting for his new "friend" just outside the airport at the pick-up, he is clearly known and regarded fondly even here in Târgu Mureș and not just in his home. There are those that reach out for light touches of his coat for protection or his attention itself which he gives in a slight bow and a smile. A loyal guardian, a friend to all in his post so to speak. He knew them like Santa knows all those on his list.

Târgu Mureș herself is cloaked in perfectly white crisp snow and grey street slush. A beautiful woman in dirty boots as he would say. It would be easy to see how this place could be washed out and dreary, maybe even intimidating in spite of the occasional colorful building, maybe a hundred or so years ago, maybe more, but now she was bright and lively despite her age and purpose. Still decorated in New Year's finest she's a gem. She is bustling with hope and still held New Years resolutions and it shows on her flesh like a new tattoo. Vlad is filled with pride to stand in her and it shows. A big grin spread across his withered face that shows off his pointy teeth.

New friend sighted as Foolish escapes the airport and the old man makes a beeline for him. Commanding, somewhat accidentally, attention from all around him with a loud giddy clap of long nailed hands. "Welcome! My guest! Welcome!" He has been claimed, so to speak, territory marked. This man is under his protection. God forgive anyone who crossed him while he was under Vlad's leathery wing. Vlad's voice is like thunder and strikes like lightening. Some are left shaking from it, especially if they aren't expecting it.

Vlad himself isn't physically intimidating in the slightest on sight. He's small. Standing straight backed at 5'4 with a wild flyaway mane and wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. His nose is strong and crooked, broken more than once in his time, his bottom lip the only one visible under a massive and thick mustache that matches his hair. He looks like a small very friendly grandpa lost in the airport with nose and cheeks rosey from the cold. There isn't really anything else of him that can be seen besides the tips of his leather boots an those hairy clawed hands because he's wrapped in a massive black fur coat that blends in a little too well with his hair.

"Welcome to Romania! Welcome to Târgu Mureș! She is still wearing her jewelry and on such a bright and sunny day! Aha! She is all dressed up for you! See how she shines and twinkles!" He looks up at Foolish and reveals why all feel so small before him even at his miniscule height. Suddenly he seems so much taller, so much more. Hazel eyes so beautiful and bright they become hypnotic. Viridian and amber. Like a raw emerald and a topaz married and in the kind of love poets dream about. His gaze is intense, hypnotic, and knowing, but for right now at least... friendly.

@foolish-pleasure

#.ic.para.#//I am so sorry I went apeshit

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scarlettjohanssons-mistress · 2 years

Text

The harmony of fashion - part 2

Warnings: Smut and therefore 18+ only, first Meetings, fix-It, fluff, smut

Word count: 1.3 K

Pairing: Cruella x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Reader is the lead singer of a local London Rock group, and right in the scene where Cruella and the others are escaping from the police after the parade, Cruella and Reader accidentally bump into each other.

Requests: OPEN

[Main masterlist] [Emma Stone characters masterlist]

Part 1 HERE

"I will need all the information that can be obtained from the party" I spoke, while petting Buddy"I want to know about the guests, even who will clean the floors"

"That's a piece of cake," Jasper spoke up.

"Maybe, if we're lucky, someone might help us, from the inside"

"Help us? What do you plan to do?"

“Wait, and you will see”

———————————————————————————

The world was a small place, and London, it seemed, much smaller.

Turns out, the baroness's trusted bartender had to cancel she because of his little tooth extraction surgery, so the witch hired the star bartender of ' The Camden Assembly Pub', who happened to be T/N

Jasper innocently gave me the address of the place, but, I didn't even read the damn paper, I just had to walk a little further than Regent's Park, and there I could see her.

Now, she wasn't wearing a nice Rockstar outfit , she was just wearing black pants, a black blouse, and a brown apron; her hair was pulled back, and she only had a light layer of makeup on, leaving a few small spots visible to the naked eye.

She was at the back door of the place, talking and laughing with another boy, while they both smoked a cigarette, until she finished it, threw the butt away, stepped on it, took off her apron and handed it to the boy. With a quick movement, she reached into the room and took out her bag and a coat, put on the garment and let down her hair, letting the black sea cascade down her back, she said goodbye to her friend and began to walk.

I tried to follow her, discreetly and at a great distance, but, we didn't have to walk far, apparently, being a bartender by day and a rock star by night, makes good money, since the woman lived near the famous ' Road ST. John's Wood Ter'.

The woman was going to open the door of a large building, a group of apartments, so I quickened my pace, until I reached her side, just as she inserted the key into the lock.

"Will go up?"

“Yes, please” I tried to make my voice hoarser, so I could sound like a man, but the tickling of the fake mustache just tickled me, making the task more difficult.

"Come in please"

She closed the door and got on the old elevator, so, I went up after her, she punched number 5, making us both wait for the elevator to reach the floor.

“When were you going to tell me it was you?"

She, still leaning against the wall, turned her head to see me, and gave me a smile.

"I just wanted to see, how long it took you to find out if it was me"

“Honey, I identified you from Regent's Park. That mustache is very false to me” she mocked

Carefully, I plucked my mustache, and passed my hand over the area, to try to alleviate the burning a little, causing her to laugh.

"Thank God you noticed, I thought I'd have to have this dead rat on my face any longer."

The elevator reached its destination, and she got out, but she turned to see me

“Are you coming, or what?”

I followed her to her apartment.

It wasn't as big as ours, but she kept it well lit, and very organized, full of plants and paintings.

"Do you want some tea?"

"No, really, I'm here for my coat."

"Oh sure, I have it in my room, wait here"

She tried to get up, but I grabbed her wrist, causing her to stop.

“I accompany you”

We both got up, and walked to her room.

She took out her coat, she was going to hand it to me, but, just as she was going to take it, she quickly pushed it away.

"Eh, but don't you think I deserve a reward, for taking such good care of him?"

“Of course you deserve a reward”

She tried to hang her coat on the same door of her closet, but, I took it from her hands and with a quick movement, I threw her back to the bed, and with grace, I climbed on her lap

“You are such a good girl”

I started kissing her neck, tickling her

"Wow, I didn't think you were such a talkative woman in sex"

I made her get up, so we could both take our clothes off until we were in our underwear.

"You're always too loud" She unhooks her bra and I throw it somewhere in the room.

"Yes, but I'm very quiet when it comes to sex" it was her turn to take off my bra and throw it away

"Mm, it will be perfect, you will remain silent, like the perfect submissive that I want you to be, while I praise the good girl that you will be" without finesse, I pulled her panties, and I lay on top of her, putting a nipple in my mouth, making the poor woman hold a small gasp in her mouth

" Shh , no" I try to move away, but I stayed firm giving a light bite to the nipple, causing her to let out a squeal "my walls are almost paper, the neighbors..."

Without warning, my right hand went straight to her center and I started playing with her clit, causing Y/N to lose track of the conversation and roll her eyes.

"The neighbors will have to listen to how you shout my name, over and over again" she tried to suppress her moans, but some escaped her "honey, I barely touched you and you're already soaked. Say it's just for me” Y/N tried to turn her head and bite the pillow, but I grabbed her chin and forced her to look into my eyes “tell me you're soaking wet just for me”

"I'm soaked for you" she whisper between small and light moans

"That's my good girl"

I inserted two fingers into her vagina, causing her back to arch and her mouth to open, just a little.

"You look so beautiful like this, full" I spoke, my body lowered until my mouth was in front of her vulva, so I carefully gave her a long lick, to savor her "And you taste so good"

Mixing my fingers in and out of her hole, along with my mouth and tongue sucking and licking her clit, Y/N cums , slowing my movements down to a complete stop and seeing her face, with a light sheen of sweat, flushed cheeks, and slightly irregular breathing

"How was that?" I got up, kneeling on her

“It was amazing” Y/N got up a bit, sitting down

“This is where, you can thank me”

With a quick movement, she changed our positions and quickly began to caress my clit, through my panties, causing me to gasp.

"Why give thanks, if I can use my mouth for something better"

She lowered until her mouth connected with my clit, sucking a little.

"Wow, who knew a street rock star couldn't pronounce 'oral sex'" she nibbled lightly on my clit making me yell "Ahhh"

———————————————————————————

Y/N was a great caretaker after sex.

She took care of letting me use her shower, lend me her clothes, and even surprise me by taking me a cup of coffee, delicious French sweet bread and a good talk pending.

"I don't know you're supposed to be dead?" asks Y/N while giving me a beautiful smile, crossing her legs and bringing her cup closer to her delicious mouth

"Yes I am" I tried to pout "but it just makes me enjoy my anonymity more" we both drank her fantastic tea "Y/N I have a plan”

"Of course you do, you're an intelligent woman... And I like intelligent women" Y/N flirted as she placed her hand on my thigh, giving soft and light massages "But..." he approached my ear and whispered " What do I get?

“A night of luxury, chaos and a possible death”

"The thing about death doesn't convince me at all"

"It won't be yours"

"Good. But I'm still not convinced." She gave my neck a long lick.

“How about more nights like this?” It was my turn to bite her bare shoulder

"Well, where do I sign, princess?"

Note:

I hope you enjoy this.

I appreciate the reblogs, the likes and the comments

#cruella x reader #cruella x fem!reader #cruella #cruella 2021 #cruella imagine #lgbtq #female x female #cruella de vil

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japhan2024 · 6 months

Text

Day 29 of Kinktober: diner fantasy

Yooo, we're nearing the end! Honestly, it's been a bit harder every day to come up with new plots lmao! I also don't use any list or sth. But I do like pushing myself to be creative, so yeah, here's today's fic!

Diner fantasy

Fandom: Smosh

Pairing: Amanda x Damien , Amanda x Shayne

Kinks: public nudity, humiliation (consensual), orgy, gang bang

"Hello darling," Amanda said, her voice barely containing her arousal and eager anticipation.

"Hi babe," Damien greeted her. They were outside in on a simmering Nevada afternoon. He was wearing a white tuxedo and white top-hat. He looked cartoonish or rather animey, but his fiery eyes made Amanda weak in the knees.

"I've taken care of everything," he continued, "everyone we will meet tonight has consented - quite enthusiastically might I add - so we can live this fantasy to the fullest."

"I love you." Amanda blurted it out, like she blurted everything out. But it was the truth and Damien understood that. He took her hand and kissed it softly.

"It's time to let the girls out, Amanda."

"Are you sure nobody else will see?"

"Only those who are in on it."

"Oh my god, this is so exciting!"

Amanda wore a braless, strapless black dress that flowed down her legs with one huge split in the back.

"Do you want to do it?" She asked, making a cute face.

"I'd love to."

Damien pulled down Amanda's dress so her breasts were bare, there for all to see. They were big, they were out, they were there. Damien couldn't help but give them a little squeeze, making Amanda's nipples harden already, even though it was almost unbearably hot. The two colleagues hot into a small sports car. Amanda put on her seat belt which chafed uncomfortably against her bare skin. Damien drove and the road was not well maintained, so with every pothole, crack and bump, her tits bounced in all directions.

Finally, they made it to a small diner. It was already twilight, but Amanda's books were still very well visible. When they had parked, Damien lost control for a bit. He grabbed her tits, he kissed her passionately and kissed her nipples, using lots of tongue, making them drip with saliva.

"Don't dry off," he commanded.

Dripping, Amanda walked into the diner. She was so tall already, but she wore high heels, making herself the tallest person there by far. The people who sat there, looked at her, mockingly and with dirty thoughts quite visible in their expressions. She locked eyes with an old man with a mustache, who was rubbing his dick through his pants. Oh my god, what have we begun, she thought, scared but horny.

The waitress walked up to them. She addressed Damien and didn't look Amanda in the eye, but did stare at her boobs.

"Table for two, then?"

"Yeah it's me and sugartits here," Damien said teasingly. Then he grabbed the waitress by the tits and squeezed them tightly. "You can join us if you want?"

"Um, maybe later? I'm working now," she said while Damien slid his hand under her short skirt and fingered her. She took a step back and showed them their table. Damien licked his fingers. Then he dragged Amanda along by her breast, so she had to awkwardly bend over and walk behind him. When he finally let go, Damien sat down but Amanda looked at her chair.

"This isn't going to fit?"

"Have more faith in yourself," Damien said with a smirk and he blinked at her. His silver hair glistened in the light of the lamp hung above their table.

"Okay, I guess I'll try!"

Amanda pulled her dress up a little and pulled her panties to the side. She sat down on a giant dildo that was fixed on her chair. It did fit but barely. Damien showed her a small device he was holding.

"Click."

Amanda squirmed. The dildo moved wildly within her. How was she supposed to concentrate?! She took shallow, shaky breaths as Damien just stared at her funbags trembling. He gave them a smack, making them shake yet again.

"This is your evening. We're going to make it count." He turned around. "Waitress?" The poor girl approached again, wary of Damien. But he grabbed her by the waist anyway and pulled her on his lap. While massaging ger tits and dry-thrusting against her, undressing her top as well, he told her: " why don't you get us the menu and two pure vodkas dear?"

"Sure," she whimpered and hot off Damien's lap, but stumbled and fell, revealing her red laced panties to Damien and Amanda. She got up blushing and walked towards the kitchen.

Several men around their table were turning towards Amanda now, who still struggled to keep still.

"Look at her, the tits on her! They are huge! I'd like to get my dick in that."

"She looks delicious, would look even better with her legs spread wide."

"She's being fucked with a dildo, how pathetic."

The chef came to personally tell them the menu. When they had both chosen, the chef addressed Amanda.

"It's quite rude to flaunt those melons in my diner, by the way. I think you need to be put in your place. Open your mouth like a good girl and be ready for an aperitif."

He yanked his dick out and shoved it into Amanda's mouth. She wanted to say something, but only gagged noises came out. The dick went right down her throat and got bigger, making her mad with desire, being fucked in two holes already. The chef took his dick out her mouth and came all over her boobs.

"Here, let me dry that for you."

He dried her boobs off with a dirty towel from the kitchen. He slapped her face, and grabbed her chin.

"That's how we deal with sluts here," he said sternly.

Damien pressed the device and the writhing inside of Amanda stopped. What a relief.

"You can take it out now," he said to her boobs, not her face. She stood up trembling and removes the dildo with some force from the chair. She sat back down.

Their dinner arrived and they ate like it was a normal date, only Damien only had eyes for Amanda's nipples. After desert, the waitress came to clean the table but was caught in Damiens grasp once again.

"You're such a tasty treat, aren't you?" He teased.

"Please, be gentle," she said as he undressed her fully this time.

"Get on the table, on your hands and knees."

"But it's not cleaned yet..."

"You'll fit your hands somewhere."

The waitress obliged, the other guests looking at her laughing. Damien stood up, whacked his dong out and started thrusting against her ass. After a while she screamed, a sign that she had been entered and he was penetrating her ass right now. She looked right at Amanda's boobs.

Some of the guests had gotten up and two men stood behind Amanda now, one putting his dick into the waitresses mouth, the other was the old guy from before. He started to fondle Amanda's breasts, squeezing her nipples way too hard like he was milking a cow. Amanda squinted from the pain bit endured it.

"Get up, doll," the old guy said. The waitress was still screaming. Amanda got up and the guy felt her up and down, fingered her cunt and ass, grabbed her butt and her tits. He penetrated her vagina quite easily after the ordeal with the dildo. He pushed her down so her breasts were squished on the table, the waitress screaming above her, while he fucked her. He shot his sperm deep inside her and slapped her ass for good measure.

"Who wants next?"

A burly guy who had been keeping to himself before, approached.

"Shayne?"

"That's mister Topp to you," Shayne said and kissed her, pulling her head down and pushing his tongue inside her mouth. He held her tits tightly and went on to kiss her neck, turning her around and entering her asshole. Damien just came inside the waitress who quickly tried to run away but was now caught between two men, fucking her ass and mouth this time.

"Oh, Amanda, you're so hot, you have to know that you are. I always - argh, so good - always wanted to fuck you. And now Damien has given me the chanse. You two are so lucky to have each other. And live out these kinky fantasies!"

"Hey, don't break the fourth wall now, we're all actors here," Damien reminded Shayne.

"Right, right I was just too excited to see you, Amanda. Oh, you feel so good around my dick."

Shayne pumped harder and harder into Amanda and she moaned desperately. When he came, Damien announced:

"Time for the grand finale! Sperm her up!"

All the men in the diner stood over Amanda, pushing her down on the table, and jacked off above her, against her, between her tits and against her pussy. They all came, one by one and she was covered in sperm. Her dress was totally ruined. Damien paid the bill and took her outside.

"Wow, you look so beautiful. You're always a beauty but this is just gorgeous."

He went down on Amanda like there was no tomorrow. Licking around her sweet spot and munching on her labia, it was like he hadn't eaten at all in the diner. Amanda came after just a few minutes and screamed into the evening.

"Yes, succes!" Damien said triumphantly and signaled to the diner. Everyone came out, the old guy, the guests, the chef, the waitress. They all smiled friendly and said thank you to Amanda.

"Amanda, meet my improv peers from back in college. At least the ones who really wanted to do it, everyone here is a horny bastard. And there's Shayne, the horniest bastard of them all. He insisted on joining."

They all giggled and Amanda thanked them back.

"This was amazing. it's always been a dream of mine." Amanda glowed. This was the perfect present, and Damien had given it to her. She truly did love him, and she hugged him tightly before going back home in their comedically small sports car.

#kinktober 2023 #damanda #shaymanda #18+

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