#shes arousing me and my homegirls...... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

popamolly · 26 days

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asks are open? right? cause I have a silly lil scenario!!

so imagine reader being Charlie's bestie and homegirl like, they tell each other everything, but what Charlie doesn't know is that reader is getting her brains pounded by none other than her best friends father, Lucifer 🤭🤭

ty and love your writing~!

‘ MY BEST FRIEND'S DAD! ’ ── LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR

𝝑𝝔 synopsis. how can you stop having sex with your best friend’s dad when he fucks you so good? you’re a terrible friend for going behind Charlie’s back.

warnings. fem!reader, p in v, taboo, age gap!reader (you’re 19) and in college with lucifer’s daughter, porn without plot fr, degradation, daddy kink, dom!lucifer, drabble, did i miss anything?

Charlie would never forgive you.

Your best friend was the most understanding, forgiving person you’ve ever met and when faced with conflict, she dealt with it head on and with an optimistic smile that could outshine a million of suns. You always told her that you didn’t deserve her, that you had no idea what good deed you had done in your past life to be blessed with a best friend like her. You both shared secrets you wouldn’t utter to another else but there was one secret you couldn’t share with her. That secret being something you’d take to your grave.

“Oh! Oh my— fuck! Mr.Star, please! ngh!” you mewl, hips bucking wildly. Too cock drunk to even form proper sentences as your best friend’s dad pounded into you with reckless abandon. The blonde tuffs of his pubic hair scratched against your throbbing clit.

If you were being honest you didn’t know how it started. One day you were sleeping over, as you usually do every now and again, and you bumped into Charlie’s father in search for a drink of water in the kitchen. Awkward small talk turned to whispered conversation, and before you knew you had kissed him— fully expecting a rejection in return but to your surprised he returned the kiss. The heated passion burned through both your bodies and one instant became two, then three, and eventually you lost count of how many times he had fucked you behind his daughter’s back.

How could you betray your best friend like that? This was wrong but yet, it felt so right at the same time.

“What a good little slut you are,” Lucifer rumbles, low and dangerous, “skipping class just for me?”

There was just something about the way your tight dripping cunt swallowed all of Lucifer’s dick that made him want to go absolutely feral. Every time his thoughts would try to smack him with the reality of things his mind would simply go to mush at the pleasure he was feeling. This sweet, dripping pussy was made just for him and he wasn’t going to let go of it now. He watched with a loud groan as his cock plunged impossibly deeper inside your pussy, his heavy balls smacking against you. Each one of his prominent veins dragging along your velvety walls, hitting that one spot that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head, making you scream into bed sheets.

“S’full,” you moaned, feeling Lucifer’s cock stretch you wide, his swollen tip bruising your cervix. You felt as thought he was in your stomach and that feeling alone was driving you insane with pleasure, “so deep..”

“God, you’re such a whore, making a mess of my bedsheets,” Lucifer could barely here himself over your loud moans and the sound of your slick wet cunt sucking him in greedily whenever he pulled his hips back slightly only to thrusts back in, “You want to be daddy’s good girl don’t you?”

Lucifer couldn’t help but gaze at the sight of your pussy, spread open so shamefully for him, quivering and leaking your arousal onto the sheets below. Charlie could be home any minute now and the thought only seemed to only turn you on even more.

You try to run from the overwhelming pleasure but Lucifer’s grip tightening around your waist with a dark chuckle, landing a hard smack onto your ass he continues to fuck you into the mattress— forcing you take in everything he gave you without complaint.

With your back arched and head down on the mattress, you gripped the sheets so tightly in your hand that your knuckles turned white, drool leaving the corner of your mouth as you continued to moan out his name, “I’m s’close..! Please, please, please!”

“You going to cum?” Lucifer teased, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair to pull your head up harshly, his grip so tight that you couldn’t help but look up, giving him full access to your neck as he leaned in close to your ear, “What would Charlie think if she knew you were cumming on my cock everyday, hm? Oh but I bet you don’t care, no, who knew Charlie’s bestfriend was such a slut for her dad.”

── ꒰ ‧˚ author's note. ｡˚ ꒱ this idea is everything, daddy lucifer? I think yes. hope you enjoyed this & thank you for your kind words anon! part 2 maybe??

── ꒰ ‧˚ official taglist ｡˚ ꒱ @irlvelvette

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ronindrew · 1 year

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so me and home girl saw this scantly dressed THICC girl, BODY was in MOTION

so it sparked this conversation

*prologue ends*

explaining to homegirl how seeing nudity or images/gifs that are usually considered sexual isn’t sexual for me personally

[note, she’s a WILD pervert]

and she’s like “HOW can you not see that as sexual????” 😂😂

my brain categorizes it as art

i don’t get aroused

my genitals ain’t involved, i don’t feel sexual in the slightest

it’s just art to me

she told me most men see bodies and they think about fuqin

and again she’s a wild pervert she herself sexualizes bodies albeit not ass intense as a man would

and now I’m thinking, have I always been like this? and I think so??

i can’t remember a time where I wasn’t? even as a child 🤔

#text

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robotpussy · 3 years

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melyssa ford was the standard

#melyssa ford #video vixens #video #shes arousing me and my homegirls......#2000s

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lihikainanea · 3 years

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don’t mind me daydreaming about how tiger probably gets aroused at some point when she has amnesia so she googles what to do because she’s just so confused. she ends up getting off but kept thinking of bill, which makes her feel so guilty and she’s still not sure why she’s so attracted to him. she starts to ignore him and he’s upset because they were doing so well in her progress and she finally confesses and he’s like a deer in headlights (also trying not to get hard)

I love this a whole lot god for so many reasons.

I mean, she probably recognizes the feelings and knows what’s up because it’s only the memory portion of her brain that is malfunctioning. But listen, she doesn’t know why, but she most definitely thinks of Bill while she gets herself off. And it doesn’t feel weird or strange or like an invasion of privacy. She’s pretty shameless about it actually, and it just feels right.

But like, maybe tiger too also kind of lost her filter. Maybe it’s even on purpose--look man, homegirl is dealing with enough shit already. If she had to worry about useless stuff like inhibitions and shyness, she’d never get anywhere. She’s got bigger things on her plate, so she’s kind of just adopted this YOLO attitude about everything. You can’t really have any shame when you’re relying on other people to fill in all the numerous gaps that is your own life.

So maybe at breakfast the next morning, Bill fixes her coffee and sits down at the table. And maybe she plunks her feet in his lap--because that’s what he says she used to do--and she takes a casual sip.

“I got off last night to the thought of you,” she tells him, “It was nice. Didn’t feel weird. So I guess I believe you when we say that we slept together.”

And poor Bill--oh my god. Bill literally spits his coffee out, his eyes buggin’ out of his head.

“You what?” he stammers.

“I got myself off,” tiger casually grabs an apple from the basket of fruit on the table, wipes it off on her shirt, “I thought of you the whole time.”

Bill’s jaw is on the fucking floor. He hasn’t blinked, his mouth agape, his cheeks turning pink.

“Was it uh,” he stops, clearing his throat when his voice cracked, “Was it good?”

Tiger takes a big bite of the apple, contemplating as she chews.

“Yes,” she said finally, “It was. Got a bit of a headache after, probably from the headrush, but it was good.”

Bill just like, has to excuse himself. Because he’s pitching a tent in his boxers that he can’t conceal anymore and now he has to go take care of it.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill

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irrelevantwriter · 4 years

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Feliz Navidad

Pairing: (Mayans MC) Angel Reyes x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, oral sex (female receiving), inappropriate use of a candy cane, a little hand job action, unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of bodily fluid, Angel being adorable hot as fuck, Angel’s ringed fingers (bc that shit is what keeps me up at night)

Word Count: 3.8K

Summary: There’s a Christmas party at the Mayan’s clubhouse and Angel has a sudden bout of inspiration that includes a candy cane, EZ’s trailer, and his very persuasive nature your extreme horniness.

AN: This is my contribution to @ne-gans follower celebration. Congrats on the shit ton of followers! And if you aren’t following her, please do! She’s an amazing writer of all things smut. My chosen prompt was “Who knew candy canes could be so erotic?” for Angel Reyes from Mayans MC and it was way too much fun to write. Hopes this puts you guys in the Christmas spirit, and if not, at least in the Angel Reyes spirit because that man deserves. Please read, enjoy, and share with your friends!

The amazing aesthetic was done by my fellow Angel thirst bitch and homegirl Ashley @negansdirtygirl22.

*Masterlist in bio.

*******************

Feliz Navidad

Próspero año y Felicidad

You hummed along to the music flowing through the speakers as you sipped from the eggnog clutched in your hand. The Mayan clubhouse was alive with holiday cheer and activity, a sight rarely witnessed within the walls. It had been a joint effort between you, the other wives, girlfriends, and of course Letty and Chucky, to bring some much needed spirit to the club. The last few months had been hard on everyone and you and the other women wanted to give the men something special to put their heavy hearts and minds at ease.

That’s where the Christmas party came into play. There had been plenty of parties around the holidays in the past, but nothing actually dedicated to one of your favorite times of year. This celebration was all about the horrible Christmas music, the way too boozy eggnog, the tamales that one of Creeper’s tias made, and the much needed sense of familia that had been lacking as of late. And it seemed to be paying off.

The space was decorated, all thanks to Letty and Chucky, who chose some of the most heinous looking plastic garland you’d ever seen. But it was the thought that counted. And everyone was having a good time. People were eating, drinking, laughing, and even playing Loteria in a corner. That’s where your eyes settled as they landed on your boyfriend trying to cheat in the game of bingo. His younger brother sat to his right, though he’d been banned from playing because of his unique memorization abilities.

You’d made a move to join him when Chucky appeared in front of you, mouth pulled into a wide grin. The man was obviously having a great time, if the red lipstick caked on his cheek was anything to go by.

“Señorita…” He greeted as he held up a candy cane, one of the larger ones that he’d purchased for the tree set up in the corner. “Para ti.” He held the treat out to you and you laughed, taking it from him.

“I accept that.”

If possible, his smile got even wider as he bounced off. You shook your head and smiled, truly taken by the oddity that was Chucky. Never a dull moment with the man.

You returned on your quest to finally join Angel. You two had rode together in your car, but had hardly spent time with each other once you’d hit the door. You’d been making sure everything was in place, helping El Presidente’s old lady as much as you could. Now you could finally relax and take in all the hard work; the outcome making you feel warm and impossibly cheerful.

“There she is.” Angel announced to the table, gesturing to your approaching figure.

You maneuvered so that you could sit on his lap, your legs pulled to one side and tightly together to keep your red dress in place. His arms welcomed you in, immediately attaching to you like a magnet. His calloused hands landed on your hip and bare thighs, unconsciously caressing the skin there. The motion made a rapid zap of heat shoot up your thighs.

“Baby, tell the guys that I don’t cheat at Lotería.” His voice sounded slightly petulant, like he’d been accused of the crime and teased mercilessly for it.

You sat your cup down and let your fingers dance in his hair, his dark eyes gazing up at you with boyish charm and excitement. It felt good to see him so carefree. It made all the pain worth it. All the late nights and brushes with death; the time you spent worrying that he’d never make it home to you. That all got erased in these moments.

“He doesn’t cheat at Lotería.” You dutifully repeated for him to the table of men. He nodded in satisfaction, feeling as if he’d won. “But he does at Uno.”

A loud series of “Ohhhhhs” and deep chuckles filled the space as they reacted to your statement. Angel looked at you in faux betrayal, his eyes crinkling at the sides from barely subdued laughter.

“Really, querida? Just like that. Telling my whole business.” His ringed fingers landed heavy on your lap, edging the hem of your dress up slightly.

You giggled and burrowed yourself into his neck. “Sorry, baby.” You left a chaste kiss on his neck, knowing your comment would be forgiven with the gesture.

“Hmmm,” He hummed, eyes squinted up at you in scrutiny. “You can make it up to me.” He raised his brows in question, lip pulled into a devilishly handsome smirk.

You let out a girlish giggle, unable to help yourself when he flirted with you. You vaguely noticed that the rest of the table had gone back to their conversations and the game, no longer paying attention to the wrapped up couple.

“Oh, I will…” You teased with a bite to your bottom lip. His eyes followed the movement, hands gripping your bare flesh just a little bit tighter in response. He ran his tongue over his own bearded lips and your breath caught slightly, feeling the alcohol and your sudden arousal start to take effect.

“How about right now?” He whispered into your ear, nibbling at the appendage. You closed your eyes for an instant, momentarily lost in the sensation before you remembered where you were. Angel had that kind of influence over you, and you hoped it never waned.

“And where would we go?” You responded breathlessly, only slightly embarrassed by your strong reaction to his minimal ministrations.

He smirked up at you, somewhat surprised by your willingness to go along with his mischief. Angel loved pushing your sexual limitations. He loved testing your boundaries and exploring all facets of pleasure. You felt comfortable enough with him that you found yourself ready to follow him to the ends of the Earth. Not to mention, the man owned your heart, fully and without condition. You were his in a way you’d never belonged to any man before. And you could confidently say the same thing about him. Angel was devoted to you. And he liked to show you just how much on multiple occasions.

“I got an idea.” He looked around you and to the room, inspecting your surroundings. He leaned up again and whispered into your ear, the grittiness in his voice making you shiver. “Let’s go outside.”

You nodded and wordlessly got up with Angel’s help, letting him lead you to the door and outside. No one called out for you. No one even seemed to notice your absence. Excitement pulsed through your blood as he gripped your hand and pulled you with him across the dirt lot. You didn’t ask questions. You didn’t stop him. You let him take control.

He opened the door of EZ’s trailer with a key inside of his leather. He helped you up the rickety steps, your black heeled boots not making the feat easy. He shut the door once you’d made it inside, the space cramped and narrow. EZ hadn’t been staying in the trailer lately so the place was a little dusty. You felt a small sweep of guilt at invading the space for your own personal debauchery. But seeing Angel eye-fucking you like he was right now made those feelings dissipate right out of the trailer.

“Have I told you how fucking hot you look tonight?” He asked from his spot near the small dining table. His intense study of you and his words made you instantly wet, your panties barely catching the residual.

“Yeah, you mentioned something about wanting to bend me over the counter before we left the house earlier. Does that count?” You replied with your own wicked smile.

He chuckled and stepped forward, hand smoothing down his whiskers. You’d started to see hints of grey within the strands and you’d let Angel know how attractive you found that as soon you’d spotted them. He was more than appreciative of your “compliments”.

“What’s this?” He pulled at your left hand, just now seeing the candy cane still clutched in your palm. You barely remembered you’d had it, too concerned with letting Angel get you alone.

“Chucky gave it to me.”

He took the red and white candy and pulled at the wrapper, removing it far easier than you would’ve been able to. He eyed the item closely and seemed to get an idea because his eyes bled into yours, the sizzling tension now undeniably boiling over.

He held out the long end towards you, near you mouth. You didn’t need to be told what to do. You wrapped your lips around the candy, sucking at the flavor. You stared up at Angel through your made-up lashes as you gently tongued the stick, the innuendo more than obvious. His breathing hitched when you took more of the candy down your throat, your mouth nearly meeting his fingers clutching the other end.

“Fuck…” He cursed once you finally released it from your clutches. He let the end dance over your lips, plucking your bottom one down and watching it fall back into place.

He pulled you to him with his other hand and captured your mouth. His tongue immediately sought entrance and you obliged. He tangled himself up with you, tasting the peppermint that now seeped from your mouth. Your hands gripped his kutte, desperate to feel his body pressed against yours.

You both pulled away, chests heaving. You could feel the heat around your mouth, the scratches of his beard burning your flesh. There were remnants of your lipstick smeared on his bearded lips, the sight fueling a possessive streak in you. He brought the candy cane up to his own mouth and sucked, intertwining the two of you.

“Come on, baby…” He grasped your hand and directed you to one of the cushioned benches. “Sit back.”

You had a weakness for Angel’s commanding nature in the bedroom. The way he would demand things of you while never expecting a response made you feverish. He knew he couldn’t get away with that treatment outside of the bedroom, but he more than catered to that desire when necessary. And he did it verywell.

You followed his lead as he gently sat you back against the cushion, kneeling in front of you. Your heartbeat accelerated, centering right between your thighs. His hands widened your legs and pushed your dress up, propping your heeled boots on his shoulders. He stared up at you with such intensity that you had to squirm against the seat to alleviate the ache. He caught the action and snickered.

“Relax, dulce. I got you.”

You nodded and bit your lip when his hands shifted your dress over your hips to expose the festive red lace panties you were wearing. You were exposed to him and you relished the unbridled lust that oozed from his pores and out onto you.

“Goddamn, you look good.” He swept a finger over your clothed slit, causing you to jerk. The material was damp, your body more than ready for his touch. “Feel good too.” He mumbled, finger still tracing your swollen lips.

You let out a whimper, his teasing having a more powerful effect than usual. You rocked your hips against his touch, encouraging him to explore you further. Angel was an impatient man, and while he was a master at teasing, he ran out of patience just as fast. He pulled the lace down your thighs and off, flinging the fabric somewhere behind him. You tugged at his thick locks and arched your back when his mouth finally connected with your opening. His hands split your thighs further apart, making room for his eager mouth. You threw your head back and moaned, feeling Angel lick up your walls. There was a slight cooling sensation and you realized it was the peppermint that lingered on his lips. The result felt amazing against your heated skin.

“Jesus, Angel…” You moaned when his lips attached to your clit. His face was buried in you, your slick coating him, and yet you felt as if he wasn’t close enough.

He pulled away with a smirk and suddenly brought the candy cane into your line of vision. You struggled to center back into reality and not on the neediness of your hunger.

“You trust me, baby?”

“Of course.” You answered without hesitation.

He nodded and moved back down to your spread thighs. “Lemme know if you want me to stop.”

You were about to chastise him for making you wait when you felt the pressure of something hard at your entrance. It was small, but firm and it slid into you easily. A low moan fell from your lips as it shallowly entered you and then traveled back out and up to your clit. Angel blew on your skin and the realization hit you. He was fucking you with the candy cane. The minty tingle left in its wake made you scratch at his scalp, unsure if you wanted more or not. The combination of dueling hot and cold sensations had goosebumps breaking out onto your flesh.

“You good?” He asked with a gentle lick to your weeping pussy.

You nodded, unable to find your voice as he continued to assault your clit with the candy.

“Want me to stop?”

“No.”

His mouth launched into a frenzied feeding as he opened you up to him. His tongue dived in and out of you, making your thighs clench around his head. That rush of lava-like heat started to consume your entire body as he worked you over, never stopping. His goal was clear as he sped up and you cried out when his mouth became too much. You stiffened and shook with each shock as you sailed through feelings of love, adoration, and immense pleasure.

“Shit, mi amor…” Angel rasped with amazement as he stared down at your now lax body. He didn’t let you rest as he pulled you into an upright position, locking your lips against his. You tasted yourself mixed with the sweetness of the candy and you found yourself wanting more.

His hands gripped your thighs and lifted you up, switching your positions. He now occupied your spot on the bench while you sat astride his lap, your needy pussy seeking out is hardened cock through his jeans. You pushed down on him, taking pleasure in the way he growled into your mouth. He began lifting your dress over your head and you aided him in removing it. His mouth immediately sought out your pebbled nipples through the red lace of your bra. You pulled him to you, your hands back to tugging at his hair.

He unclasped your bra and pulled it down and off your shoulders. You mirrored his actions by pulling off his kutte and unbuttoning his flannel. His tanned skin beckoned you, the black ink only fueling your want. You ran your nails down his chest, not hard enough to hurt but enough to let him know just how much you needed him in that moment.

“Take what you want, baby.” He taunted, directing your hands to his belt buckle.

You didn’t waste any time, pulling the buckle and button from its confines. He shifted his hips, helping you release his aching cock. At the sight of him you could feel your walls literally pulse, the phantom sensation of him buried inside you making you clamp down on nothing. You licked your hand, coating your palm with saliva. Cum was already leaking from his tip and you used it to pump his rigid cock.

“Fuck,” He cursed with his head thrown back. You took the opportunity to leave bruising kisses on his neck, suckling at the skin and making your way up to his ear lobe. You gently pulled at the appendage with your teeth, feeling his hips buck up into yours.

“Ride me.”

You followed his breathless request and slowly slipped him inside you. Your walls greedily accepted him, seating him inside of you perfectly. You both moaned in unison once you’d taken him in fully, his pulse synchronizing with yours. You sat in his lap, unmoving and soaking up the feel of him. He craned his mouth up, seeking yours. You met him in a slower, more tender kiss than the ones previous. He palmed your ass, rolling your hips against his. You took the hint and began moving, letting him slide in and out of you at a leisurely pace.

“Fuck, keep going.” He panted, fingertips gripping your hips and ass tightly. His mouth moved across your chest and collarbone, his hips attempting to meet yours.

The whine of the seat bench beneath you began to fill the space as you moved faster, chasing the fireworks that were sure to come. The trailer began to rock as you repeatedly fucked yourself on Angel’s cock. The girth of him burned, but the orgasmic bliss that came with it soon overpowered.

“Angel, right there…shit.” You rubbed at your clit as he fucked up into you, white lights starting to dance behind your lids, though that could’ve been the twinkling lights decorating the clubhouse that reflected in through the curtains.

“You gonna cum?” He nipped at your chin, his pace not letting up.

“Mmhm…” You moaned, biting into your lip to keep your enthusiastic screams at bay.

In the next moment, Angel had your hips halted in place above is cock as he rammed repeatedly against your cervix. You gripped his forearms, keeping your balance as he ravaged you. Your whole body reacted to the shift and when his hand manipulated your clit, you came undone.

You acted on impulse as you held Angel to you, gripped tightly in your quaking embrace. You no longer cared about being quiet as you moaned and whimpered, careening through space. He talked you through your orgasm, mumbling expletives and how beautiful you looked with his cock inside you. All of it added to the fire. All of it made both your heart and pussy flutter.

“Mi amor,” He called, his voice still sounding distant in your ringing ears.

You buried your face into his neck as he chased his own end. He grunted, his rings digging into your skin as he finally came. Thick warmth filled you, the feeling of being complete finally achieved. You watched his features twist in ecstasy and in a flash they were relaxed, his body following suit.

The distant laughter and music could be heard over the lot, the party still very much going strong. You both caressed and held each other, not in any hurry to detach. Angel touched you with a softness that made you smile lazily, the leftover oxytocin making you feel more connected to him. He mirrored your expression, caressing your neck and cheeks.

“Te quiero.”

“I love you too.” You confessed, shifting a strand of hair that had fallen against his forehead.

“Fuck...” He sighed tiredly. “Someone’s gonna come looking for us soon.”

“We can pick this back up at home.” You replied with a sleepy smile and wink. You shifted off his lap, hissing at the loss of him. His cum started to slip past your lips instantly and you rushed to find your panties.

Angel found them on the counter and helped you step into them, your legs still feeling unsteady. He smirked up at you once they cleared your hips, a lone finger sliding against your crotch.

“Quit, Angel.” You whimpered, pushing his hand away. He laughed, enjoying how sensitive you always got after sex. He was already dressed and pulling his kutte back on while you slipped your bra onto your shoulders and turned away from him. His fingers clasped the garment in place, hands smoothing down your back. He placed a soft kiss to your shoulder and reached for your dress. You took it from him and pulled it over your head, walking to the small vanity mirror above the sink to check your reflection.

After making sure your hair and makeup were still presentable, you turned to face Angel. He had the candy cane back in his hands, eyeing the sweet with a wistfulness.

“Where’d that come from?” You asked, having suspected the candy to have gotten lost during your activities.

“The table.” He motioned to the flimsy piece of furniture, the thing looking like it was on its last leg, literally.

You both moved towards the door, Angel opening it for you and taking your hand to help you down the steps. You took in gulps of the crisp night air, glad to be out of the stifling heat of the trailer. The thing surely smelled of sex and you made a mental note to air it out before you left.

“Don’t you think you should throw it away?” You gestured to the candy cane as you both walked back up to the clubhouse.

“Nah,” Angel shook his head and popped the thing right back into his mouth, a self-satisfying smile lighting up his face. “Think we should keep it. You can use it on me later.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You laughed as heat warmed your face. Thinking on where that candy cane had been moments before and how much you enjoyed it made you look away from his mischievous expression, the desire already making a fierce comeback.

“Who knew candy canes could be so erotic?” You questioned playfully.

The moment was interrupted by the clubhouse door opening as you both climbed the steps, EZ walking out with an unreadable look on his face. He took a moment to look between the two of you. Angel was sucking on the candy cane, suppressing a smirk, while you tried hard not to meet the younger sibling’s eyes. His gaze shifted to the trailer and he sighed, head shaking.

“Are you guys serious?”

“What?” Angel attempted in an act of innocence. It wasn’t believable.

“You find ‘em, boy scout?” Coco called from behind EZ, cigarette propped between his fingers. He joined you on the porch, eyes taking in the situation. He appeared to find the whole thing comical, leading you to believe that you did not look as put together and unassuming as you’d initially thought when exiting the trailer.

“You owe me.” EZ deadpanned to Coco. You watched in astonishment as Coco cursed and then reached into his pocket for what looked like a twenty dollar bill, begrudgingly handing it off to him.

“What the fuck?” Angel questioned, eyes jumping between the two men.

“I bet boy scout you guys left to handle business. He said you were handling it out here. He won.” Coco explained rather nonchalantly.

Angel scoffed out a laugh, male ego now inflated, while you rolled your eyes. “Are we really that predictable?” You asked.

“Yeah.” Both men replied in unison. They laughed and turned to go back inside to the party.

You went to follow when a hand stopped you. Angel tugged and motioned up, your eyes catching the mistletoe hanging from the wooden beam. You smiled and let him pull you in for a more PG-rated kiss than the series of impassioned ones moments before.

“Merry fucking Christmas, querida.” He whispered against your lips, dark eyes conveying emotion he didn’t have to voice.

“Merry fucking Christmas, baby.”

#lisa's 5.5k follower celebration #lisa's xmas challenge 2019 #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x female reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes fic #angel reyes fanfiction #mayans mc #mayans fx

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blst236talia · 4 years

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Sikkiim and Talia’s Musings

Recently we (Sikkiim and Talia) have been sending each other an obscene amount of TikToks, tweets, and videos in general when we should have been doing our work. However this has not been a fruitless endeavor as we have found these gems that we think are super relevant to the course. And so it begins.

First is the music video for DJ Chose and Beat King’s THICK which has recently blown up on TikTok as a new dance phenomenon. This song describes some women that the singer finds sexually attractive and talks about how their body types make him aroused. We started discussing this music video after the class discussion about WAP by Cardi B feat. Megan Thee Stallion. We found that WAP had themes of the Black female reclamation of sexuality and that THICK was the exact opposite with the overt sexualization of Black women. One of the themes that came up in class discussion was that while there were sexual elements of the music video for WAP, the central theme of the song and the music video itself was about female pleasure and women reclaiming their sexuality. On the other hand, THICK is centered only around male pleasure and the objectification of Black female bodies, within the video and the lyrics themselves. For reference view timestamps 0:20-0:26 and 0:42-0:46 and lyrics “Ooh, Ashley, aye, Ashley (hey), I get hard when she walk past me, (Look at that ass)” and “She talk too much, but I still hit cuz she a fool on that, D d d d d d d d d d dddd dick.”

youtube

In the first time stamp (0:20-0:26), DJ Chose elbows a woman aggressively on her buttocks and then proceeds to repeatedly smash his head against said buttock. Throughout the music video, he and Beat King are rough with all of the women and continually gropes them. Furthermore, the lyrics, “I get hard when she walk past me, (Look at that ass),” are all about experiencing sexual pleasure because of one’s objectification of a woman’s body.

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In contrast, consider the lyrics of the masterpiece that is known as WAP and how they describe a sexual experience that is pleasurable for both parties. Think of the lyrics, “I want you to park that big Mack truck, Right in this little garage, Make it cream, make me scream.” These lyrics, unlike the lyrics of THICK which describe sexual actions the speaker wants to do to someone, describe what Cardi B wants her partner to do with her. Another set of lyrics that demonstrate this contrast are “He got a beard, well, I'm tryna wet it, I let him taste it, now he diabetic, I don't wanna spit, I wanna gulp, I wanna gag, I wanna choke, I want you to touch that little dangly dang, That swang in the back of my throat.” These lyrics describe both cunnilingus and fellatio; sexual pleasure experienced by both parties. Both WAP and THICK are explicit in their lyrics describing sexual interactions but the connotations of the two differ as THICK only thinks about a male perspective of desiring women while WAP describes consensual, interactive sex between two partners.

I randomly thought of this scene from Atlanta. pic.twitter.com/IBuX0Q2ZJL

Another piece of social media that we shared and discussed is this tweet from user @rileywrittens which reads “I randomly thought of this scene from Atlanta.” and has attached a video clip of a 1:44 scene from the show. According to the user, the clip is from Episode 7 “Champagne Papi” in Season 2: Robbin’ Season. In the scene, Terry (Danielle Deadwyler) speaks to celebrity Devyon Johnson’s (Brandon Hirsch) girlfriend who is a white woman. Terry makes the point that Devyon’s girlfriend as a white woman fits the ideal of womanhood in U.S. society; Terry says, “Type beautiful woman in Google images, honey. Then you can talk to me.” Devyon’s girlfriend reacts defensively to Terry’s conversations and claims that their relationship is because “two good people found each other and I’m a good woman who found a good man” and disregards race in the conversation. Terry calls her out on this and says, “There are plenty, plenty, plenty, plenty of good Black women but you don’t see Brad Pitt tryna date Shonda Rhimes.”

Looking back, homegirl had a point about white women being defined as the standard for beauty. But also, its kinda weird on how homegirl is being portrayed in this scene too. https://t.co/RFUSPxw7We

In a followup set of quote tweets, the OP says, “Looking back, homegirl had a point about white women being defined as the standard for beauty. But also, its kinda weird on how homegirl is being portrayed in this scene too.” and “Almost as if black women aren't supportive of black men and their goals/dreams. Maybe I'm reading too much into it. Idk.” The writer and director seem to make a racialized choice in this scene about how Terry, a Black woman, and Devyon’s girlfriend, a white woman, are presented. Terry is made out to be extremely aggressive and as if she is attacking this white woman for nothing; she begins the interaction by saying, “Yeah. I’m staring at you. Ho.” Meanwhile the white woman is played as apologetic and sweet; she replies by timidly saying, “Is there a problem?” This scene exemplifies the ideas that society associates with white womanhood (victimhood) and Black womanhood (matriarch, aggressor). Terry comes across as the angry Black woman stereotype. This is even shown in the lighting of the shots. Terry has a dark background while Devyon’s girlfriend is backlit by the fire; likening both of them to a lightness and a darkness. This tweet and our subsequent conversations reminded us of Michelle Wallace’s analysis of the Moynihan Report in Black Macho and the Myth of the Superwoman. Wallace details the consequences of the Moynihan Report on the relations between Black men and white women and how that affected Black women.

It has been interesting seeing how much of what we consume on our various platforms of social media relates to the themes of this class. Most notably is how there is such an overlap between the works that we are reading that were written in the 20th century and our experiences with 21st century pop culture.

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essaysbyciara · 5 years

Text

Thy Neighbor II: Lovin’ The Crew [Chapters 9 + 10!]

[Prologue] [Chapters 1 + 2] [Chapters 3 + 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapters 7 + 8]

THANK YOU MILLIONS for the love, y’all. Again, such encouragement to keep doing this. Loveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

As always, taglist is still open. Peace and love!

CHAPTER NINE

“You didn’t have to send that text, Mahalia. You dead-ass wrong for that.”

Mahalia has no regrets firing off that text to Ciara, the brown liquor racing throughout her body faster than she can keep up with it.

“Yes, I did. He’s trash.”

“Well, that trash is coming right now to my side of the bar, so watch it…”

“How you gonna tell a North Philly girl to watch it, bitch…?” Mahalia gulps down the rest of her Hennessy with force.

Trevante walks up to Ashley in hopes to close his tabs and send the kids on their way towards their next destination where he won’t be present. He feels Mahalia’s eyes slicing him up as he navigates the crowd to get close to Ashley’s side of the bar.

“Hey, Ashley. Can I get one more round of tequila shots for my table and close me out. Oh and something for Mahalia. She’s empty.”

“I’m a grown ass woman, Trevante. I don’t need you buying me drinks.”

“I’m being nice, damn.” Trevante couldn’t believe Mahalia’s behavior in this moment yet he could. He would notice her slick jabs and feisty comments when he and Ciara would be together at Ngosi. He knew Ashley couldn’t stand him either but she always kept it civil. Civility is not in Mahalia’s repertoire.

Ashley has had enough. “Mahalia, here. Stop.” She places Mahalia’s drink in front of her. “This is your last one too.” Mahalia’s face screams ‘over it’.

Ciara’s face screams tired as the large clock inside of the library hits one a.m. As she packs up her belongings, Winston lifts up his blurring eyes from his laptop for one more conversation with Ciara before she vanishes back into his dreams.

“How are you getting home?” Winston asks.

Realizing that Trevante wasn’t going to be her knight in shining armor, she starts to order an Uber. “Oh, I’m just going to Uber home.”

“Wait? Where do you live?” Winston wondering where Ciara’s “boyfriend” must be.

“Mount Airy.”

Winston finds his other chance.

“I live in Germantown. I’ll take you home.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. You’re close enough.” Winston isn’t sure how close Mount Airy is to his house. He just knows he wants more time around Ciara even if he couldn’t have her. Ciara giggles on the inside of herself at Winston’s boldness. She knows he has no idea either.

“Are you hungry? We can grab a slice at Archie’s before we head out North.” Ciara could no longer ignore her hunger pains. In this moment, a piece of the greasiest pizza would solve all of her problems and her growing anger that Trevante would leave her to her own devices to get home. Trevante told her to not drive into school since he’ would be around to take her home tonight. Looks like he forgot.

“Ahh, man. Like some New York greasy sh---stuff?”

“Yes, like that. It’s super close. We can walk there.” Ciara throws her tote bag over her arm and turns off the lights to the study room.

Ciara and Winston walk into Archie’s, tables crowded with drunk college kids taking an alcoholic break from midterms. As they navigate the drunkards to get in line, a girl stumbles onto the back of Ciara’s legs, her body overpowered by whatever she’s been drinking. Ciara turns around to instantly grab her falling body.

“Hey, it’s okay. Are you friends here?” The girl strains to even say yes as she points over to a table full of girls just as pretty as her. “Meganne, oh my Goddddddddddd! I’m so sorry.” Meganne’s soror grabs her from Ciara’s clutches.

“It’s cool. She’s cool.”

Ciara adjusts her sweatshirt, grabbing an unfortunate whiff of liquor plus drool Meganne left on her shoulder.

“Can I have two slices of cheese, please!” Winston yells over the counter.

“And for your lady…??!” Ciara looks at Winston as if to reaffirm the pizza shop owner’s question.

Winston looks back at Ciara, the lack of words showing evidence of his shock to this moment.

“Oh, she’s not…uhh….”

“Three slices of sausage, stacked!” Ciara yells her order as she grabs a Tahitian Treat from the cooler.

“You got it, sweetheart!”

CHAPTER TEN

It feels weird for Ciara to leave Winston’s car without a hug. She wants to know how that massive yet soft frame would feel around her body but when she sees Trevante’s car in the parking lot of their apartment complex, right next to her late model black Acura, she grows irritated.

No, she didn’t send Trevante a text saying that she was almost done at the library. No, she didn’t call him once she closed her laptop. She desperately wanted him to reach out to her first after leaving her alone on her couch last night, soaking in the puddle that he created. She wanted to know that her treatment as a second-class citizen was without intention.

As her keys go into her door lock, Trevante exits from his apartment.

“Yo, how did you get home?!” Trevante says, his shirtless torso peering over Ciara’s startled body. Ciara finds his protective nature annoying yet arousing.

“A classmate drove me home, Trevante. Chill out.”

Trevante realizes his blunder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I forgot you left your car here. That’s my fault. I’m sorry…” Trevante grabs Ciara’s waist to apologize, pulling her closer into his body. He smells like brown liquor and bad decisions, a combination Ciara wants to try. She can’t help but fall into his body, her lips grazing his chest, placing gentle kisses as he grabs her butt. “You’re feeling yourself a little bit, huh, Tre?”

“Don’t forget your keys in the door,” Trevante says, grabbing Ciara’s hand to guide her into his apartment. Ciara wants to eat her food before Trevante tries to guide anything into her.

She plops down at his kitchen island, flipping open her box of pizza slices. Trevante then goes into steal one, Ciara too amused by Trevante buzzed behavior to stop him. He decides to trade that piece of pizza for a glass of Jim Beam, straight no rocks. Ciara obliges. They tap glasses before they take a shot, Ciara’s chest growing warm. She signals for another one and they again tap glasses. She sips this time while Trevante goes straight to the head.

“Mahalia texted me tonight. She said she saw you at Ngosi with your new frat.”

“Yo, your girl got a fly-ass mouth. She lucky she’s your friend.”

“Boy, chill out…” Ciara chuckles at this bad boy iteration of Trevante. As she hulks down her last slice of pizza, she finishes her drink and quickly pours another round. She’s trying to get where Trevante is at the moment.

Ciara walks over to Trevante playing video games. She pulls the game controller out of his hand and tosses it onto the loveseat. She proceeds to straddle Trevante which grabs his attention and every body part that comes with it.

“You know she means well, Tre. That’s the homegirl.”

“Well tell homegirl…” Trevante takes a quick slap to Ciara’s butt causing her to giggle uncontrollably “... she ain’t got shit to worry about. I know I need her approval to take your ass away…”

“Away from where, from who?”

“From her. I think she thinks she owns your shit…”

“Trevante, stop…”

“Nah, you stop…”

Trevante lifts his body off of his couch, carrying Ciara’s straddled body alongside with him. “Give me that…” He grabs Ciara’s drink from her hand, squatting down to place it on top of his coffee table. Ciara wraps her arms around Trevante’s neck, allowing for him to bend over to lay her body down onto the couch. She now finds his body hovering over her.

“Let me take off my kicks, Tre. Shit.”

“Let me grab protection, Ciara. Shit,” Trevante says, mimicking her tone.

Ciara takes off her hoodie while Trevante walks into his bedroom. As she awaits his return, she notices Trevante’s phone on the coffee table buzzing from a call.

Meganne Thee Intern 💦🍑🏢

Something about that name triggers thoughts back to tonight, to the girl that bumped into her at Archie’s. Ciara hopes that she’s okay, remembering those years in college when the late night would catch up to you in ways your body couldn’t handle. She forgets about her once she realizes that Trevante is getting a phone call at 2:00 am from another woman.

“Hey, Tre….”

Trevante walks into the living room, “What up…,” unhooking Ciara’s bra with one hand as he walks around the side of the couch.

“You ain’t leaving me on the couch like the other night, right…?”

Trevante quickly ponders what that means.

“Tapped out? Yep.”

Taglist: @doublesidedscoobysnacks @diva-princess-on-fleek @voyagetoadinas9 @walkrightuptothesun @wvsspoppin @dreamlovealways @rockwit609 @thegayaxeman @joyfulwombatdreamermaker @blackpinup22 @hookedtoherfire @kris-did-it @l-auteuse @styleismyaddiction

#trevante rhodes #winston duke #y'lan noel #thy neighbor #fanfic #trevante rhodes x fanfiction

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theclaravoyant · 6 years

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Fitzskimmons + 6 or 7 or 8, whichever you prefer!

Thanks for the prompt! Sorry I made you wait 500 years

I chose number 7 (from here x): You and I were innocently making out but then I got aroused and so did you but we knew Person C would be home literally any minute so we just decided to wait for them at which point they walked through the door and took one look at our faces and realized exactly what was going on before sighing at us disappointedly and taking off their shirt.

Of course I paraphrased it for fic purposes but the point still stands.

FitzSkimmons. Skimmons + Person C: Fitz. Est. rshp. Rated hard T. Fluff with a little bit of smutty flavour & making out (fade to black style) and shameless references to Hayley Kiyoko’s vid for Curious (slightly nsfw)

Read on AO3 (~1000wd)

Daisy dropped her keys in the bowl by the door and pulled her earphones out, intrigued by the sounds coming from further inside the apartment. Jemma had been home all day, but she had been nestled up on the couch with some printouts and a highlighter when Daisy had left for her run, and this sounded like something much more interesting. The palate of music had changed, first of all, from Daisy’s heavy-beat workout music to a more lightly stepping indie-pop style. And the smells – something smelled good.

“Hey, I’m home,” Daisy announced, closing the door behind her and moving toward the sound. Unsurprisingly, thanks to the smell, it was coming from the kitchen: cupboards and drawers, pots and pans. Daisy grinned as she leaned over the bench, watching Jemma set up. “Ooh, are we planning something special?”

“Just bolognaise,” Jemma replied.

“Can I help?” Daisy asked.

“Don’t you want a shower?”

Daisy scoffed, but sniffed her shoulder just in case. It had only been a light run, so while she had a slight sheen of sweat, she could spare the time, especially considering they didn’t get a lot together these days. Decision made, Jemma welcomed her into the kitchen, gleefully circling her as she moved first to the phone charger and then to the sink, to wash her hands.

“I thought we’d try turkey mince,” Jemma suggested while orbiting. “It’s defrosting by the stove. Onions are already cut. Carrots and zucchini are waiting.”

“Zucchini me up,” Daisy offered, taking a knife and embracing her task, moving quickly and easily through the vegetables. Jemma was monitoring the pot of spaghetti. Every now and then they bopped and bobbed to the music, as they passed banter about their days, and sometimes they even sang along.

“- hang on, is this-“ Daisy frowned as a song came on which she mostly didn’t recognise, but somehow almost did.

“Hayley, yeah,” Jemma pointed out. “It’s from her new album.”

“Her new album called ‘how many women can I seductively drape over myself at one time?’” Daisy wondered, taking a peek at the music video. She nodded appreciatively. “Damn. No offence but homegirl is living the dream right there.”

“It’s actually quite clever,” Jemma retorted stubbornly. “I’ve been trying to teach myself the dance.”

“The dance?”

Daisy frowned at Jemma. Jemma gestured back to the video just as the chorus launched, and complicated series of dance steps began. Of course, Daisy was impressed, and of course this launched into a challenge, rewinding and replaying and analysing the dance between steps of making the meal. The two of them greatly enjoyed the chance for not-strictly-necessary physical contact, but most of all, having a laugh at themselves and each other.

“Oh my God, you’re so British,” Daisy snorted, painfully endeared by Jemma’s prim little dance – so restrained in comparison to the video. “It’s more like this.”

If you let him touch ya touch ya touch ya touch ya – yeahThe way I used ta used ta used ta used ta

Daisy launched into a loose-limbed imitation of the dance, dragging herself through the air as if in slow motion on each sighed yeah, in time with the music, and while she was not quite the dancer as Hayley Kiyoko she managed the attitude – confident, carefree. A little bit of a showoff. Jemma blushed.

“Ah, stop it, I get it!” she insisted, feigning anguish as her cheeks grew hot. “I’m climbing the Kinsey scale as we speak.”

“Wanna climb something else instead?”

Admittedly, not the smoothest as far as pickup lines go, but that hardly mattered as their bodies crashed together. Daisy spun Jemma around and lifted her onto the bench, shoving vegetable peelings and the empty chopping board out of the way.

That was how it started: enthusiastic but innocent. Then Daisy tasted the pasta sauce on Jemma’s lips, and Jemma the sweat on Daisy’s; just enough to ponder her strength, her exertion. Daisy’s hand climbed under Jemma’s shirt – a soft, pink cotton pyjama shirt. Jemma’s laughing, writhing body felt good under her fingertips. Daisy’s fingers felt good on her skin. Heat, tingles crept over her belly and the back of her neck and she moaned. Instinctively, Daisy chased the sound with kisses and Jemma threw her head back, eager to let Daisy and the heat in her wake cover her neck and her chest and –

“Daisy,” she moaned, because there was no other way to speak like this.

“Mm, yeah,” Daisy moaned back, as close to the bench as she could stand to be, her hips drawn to Jemma’s like so many magnets.

“No-“ Jemma gasped – “Daisy!”

Daisy turned to look where Jemma was pointing, to where the spaghetti was boiling over. Cursing, she ran to switch the stove off and disperse the steam before the smoke alarm could have a conniption. From a few feet away, she felt the flush in her skin and the swell of her lips and the yearning at seeing Jemma’s disheveled pyjamas for what it was: unadulterated desire. Her voice, though a little hesitant, was gravelly with arousal when she asked –

“What time is Fitz getting home?”

“Any minute.”

“Should we wait?”

The sound of a key in the door was like music to their hearts. It could only be one person, and that was the person who could make their decision for them right here and now.

“Oh hey!” Fitz called from the entry, dropping his bag on the way to the bench. “Smells-“

The words fell from his lips when he saw them. Their mussed hair and clothes. The swell of their lips. Not to mention, the carrot and zucchini peelings and even a peeler that had somehow been let fall to the floor. The signs were obvious – even without the young woman in lingerie draped in more young women in lingerie on the screen in the corner. Even without their moony eyes, begging him to agree to postpone dinner to satisfy a very different kind of hunger.

“Oh, all right,” Fitz sighed dramatically – as if it were a chore, being loved by these endlessly stunning and inexhaustible women. “But one of you is going to have to help me with this thing.”

Smiling rakishly, Fitz hooked a finger around the knot of his tie, already working it undone as Jemma and Daisy swarmed toward him. He retreated toward the bedroom, drinking in the girls’ energy until all three of them were buzzing with excitement, and they collapsed in a heap and a flurry of kisses, keen for the next level of fun to begin.

#fitzskimmons #ot3: fitzsimmons #aos fic #aosficnet #aospositivitynet #prompts #prompt me stuff #imagine your ot3 #clara's fic tag #florchis

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lihikainanea · 4 years

Note

Talking about that bachelorette party: Tiger and her girlfriends would each get a lap dance from male strippers and like- she loooves her big dude but she’s also a human with human um- reactions? Anyways she gets wet and when she comes home to Bill he asks her how it went and she tells him all about it and that night I bet Bill is so petty that he’d tell her to go take a shower before they get it on bc he won’t do anything with something that another man has done to her if you catch my drift...

Aright so like, hear me out for a second. If you can hear me at all, because I’m whimpering.

Listen, it’s a bachelorette party. And tiger is buzzed, my friends. In a great way, and she’s having a blast. And she’s kind of very used to not going on social media when she’s out if she’s with Bill, because even if he’s nowhere in the shot it just makes him nervous and edgy and she knows he would really rather she didn’t.

But Bill is nowhere around, in fact Bill is tucked away safely at home, and tiger is just having a great time. And she feels a bit weirdly free--and it’s not meant to be in a bad way, but Bill comes with a lot of, you know, clauses. And they are clauses that she GLADLY accepts because for as careful as he is with her, for as much as he is obsessed with her safety and comfort, she feels the same way about his. So if recording a quick insta story while they’re out at a bar--even if he’s nowhere near the camera--makes him uncomfortable, then it’s the last thing she fucking does. In general, they have an unspoken rule that when they’re together, the phones get put away. It makes him much more comfortable.

So when she is able to go out and be the typical human who immediately defaults to posting everything on instagram, there’s a weird sense of freedom that she hasn't felt in awhile and she enjoys it. And her friends are tagging her in stuff. And one of them happens to upload a story of tiger getting a lap dance from a dude dressed as Tarzan--and like, there are layers to this, right? Because one, it’s a fucking lap dance so Bill’s jealousy radar is already a little piqued. But then it goes a step further because his big brother played Tarzan--his big bro, whom he sometimes wants to murder when he gets too close to tiger. And Bill is like, fucking seeing red. But I mean, just to clarify--because jealousy is a tricky, tricky thing, folks--Bill knows it’s ridiculous, and he’s not actually mad at tiger because she’s more than allowed to go out and to have fun with her friends. Bill is just a wee bit irrationally possessive of her, and she allows it. Bill’s okay with feeling this way because he also knows that TIGER likes it when he gets a little possessive of her.

In any case, it’s a really, really good lap dance. And maybe the dude is pretty tall, which is only reminding her of Bill and how fucking hot he is, and how hot for him she is. This dude is gyrating away and tiger’s enjoying it tremendously, but she’s also thinking about Bill’s hips swivelling in her face, about wrapping her lips around him, about the sharp carve of his V-line that she loves tracing with her tongue so much. Homegirl is worked up for 800 different reasons.

So she comes home in the wee hours of the morning, and Bill is waiting for her. And when she walks through the door, she no sooner closes it that Bill is invading her space, backing her up against it. He spins her around, pinning her chest to it as he yanks her hips back and she moans.

“God yes,” she breathes, “Hello to you too.”

But if she could see him, she would recognize the hard set in his jaw. The malice in his eyes. He yanks her skirt up, and she clenches her knees shut in surprise when he suddenly jerks her panties to the side and glides a hand between her legs. He has to stop the angry growl from escaping when he feels what’s on his fingers, and he holds them up to her face as he presses her cheek more into the door.

“Is this for me?” he asks lowly, rubbing his fingers together and smearing her arousal over them.

“Yes,” she moans, “Only for you. Always.”

But he pulls his hand back, landing it hard on her ass instead and she shrieks in surprise.

“Is it for me?” he snarls, and he pulls his phone out of his pocket, thrusting it in her face. She watches in slight horror, the video of her on her friend’s instagram, getting pretty enthusiastic about the lap dance.

“Or is this for him?” he growls. Tiger doesn’t get the chance to answer, because another spank lands on her ass and she whimpers. He moves away, pulls away from her suddenly and she turns slowly. He’s glowering at her, looking pretty angry, and he doesn’t even have to say anything or motion to her. She slowly sinks to her knees.

“You got wet for another man,” he says, and it’s gravelly and low and dangerous.

“No,” she tries feebly, “I was thinking of you.”

“I thought I was the only one who made you wet, tiger,” he accuses, but it’s eerily calm and full of icy venom. He crosses his arms, and she crawls to him but a menacing look stills her actions quickly enough.

“You are,” she says, “Please Bill, it’s you. It’s only you.”

“Is it?” he challenges, and she nods frantically, “Then why don’t you show me?”

She looks at him confused, but he bends to pick her up at the hips, slamming her back onto the ground on her back. He holds her legs open, his hands on her knees.

“If this is all for me,” he swipes a hand brusquely through her folds and she jerks in sensitivity, “Then why don’t you prove it? Go on. Show me how wet you get for me.”

“Bill--” she starts, but a wet smack landed between her legs cuts her off and she whimpers again.

“Show me,” he demands.

She sniffles a little, reaching a hand slowly between her legs as he looms over her, forcing her knees further apart. She runs her fingers gently over her slit as Bill’s eyes drill into hers, pausing to rub slow circles over her clit.

“Talk,” he demands, and she bites her lip.

“What do you--”

Another smack, wet and filthy, landing hard on her folds.

“How do I get you wet, tiger?” he asks harshly, “If this is mine, then what were you thinking about?”

“You...” she tries meekly, “Your mouth.”

“What was I doing with it?”

He makes her detail it. Everything. He sits there over her, holding her legs apart, and makes her get herself off and talk him through every damn thing she thought about. He makes her detail every single thing he does that makes her feel good. And it’s nothing but possessive on his part, it’s dominance and possession and jealousy.

And I’ll bet tiger has a hard time getting off, because uh--who wouldn’t? He’s doing nothing but watching her, forcing it, and she’s trembling and so small for him and so exposed and vulnerable. But it’s clear that he’s not letting up until she actually does it. If he’s feeling mildly sympathetic--if she’s so small and good for him and he just can’t resist--he might hold his hand to her, press it into her mound. And he won’t move it, but he’ll give her that to grind down on, to help.

And guuuuuuh oh god how delicious--afterwards I’ll bet he brings her into the shower, gets her nice and squeaky clean. And then he’ll lay her out on the bed, nice and comfy, as he scoots between her legs. He’ll nuzzle her mound softly with his nose, give it a gentle kiss, before looking up at her.

“Now it’s mine,” he says softly, ”Only mine.”

And then he’ll, very slowly, just do all the things with his tongue that she told him about before.

FUCKING DELICIOUS NANI.

#bill skarsgard #BFF!Bill #bill skarsgard drabble

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