#farts this out in the meantime
Text
Homemade
Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.
Warnings: 18+. Sneaky sex tape fun with dbf!Joel ;-) Unprotected p-in-v. Age gap. Daddy kink. Facefucking. Joel being the world’s worst cameraman. Shower sex. Overstimulation via adjustable shower head. Dirty talk. Screaming ‘daddy’ too loud, and your father shows up.
Translations: In Chile, pico is slang for penis. Joel’s is big.
Part of the Waiting Game series
“If this ever ends up on PornHub, I’ll kill you, Miller.”
Joel knew you meant it, too.
The only reason you’d agreed to make this dumb little ‘home video’ at all was because you were headed back to college tomorrow and wouldn’t see him again until May. Doing long distance was tough, but doing long distance while simultaneously trying to keep a risqué, torrid, and totally-not-age-appropriate love affair with your father’s best friend under wraps was infinitely more difficult. This was the safest way to keep desire alive in the meantime.
Immortalized on a Sony CCD-TR70—because neither one of you trusted iCloud to keep a sex tape secret.
It had also been the only video camera you could find in the closet before your dad had plopped down on the couch just outside your room and announced he would be watching Oppenheimer for the third time. You’d had to scurry off fast before he could invite you to join him.
“I’ll be damned—this thing’s gotta be as old as I am,” Joel mused as he stood at the foot of the bed, camcorder pointed at your semi-nude form.
“I didn’t know they had cameras back in the Stone Age.”
Your smirk didn't flinch, even when Joel flipped you off.
You were lying on your side, head propped up on one hand while the other picked at a few loose strings from the comforter. The lacy, pastel pink bustier holding your tits in place was currently making breathing feel like a chore, and your skin was on fire from the warmth of the room, but you tried not to show it. Joel twisted a dial.
“Alright, now...flash ‘em for daddy,” he grinned as soon as the lens focused in where he wanted: your cleavage.
You rolled your eyes.
“A little closer, please,” you said, patting the space in front of you.
Joel didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still cradling the camera, he clambered over the bed so fast he nearly tripped and took a nosedive in the headboard. You had to cover your mouth to contain a shriek of laughter—and terror—as his frame barreled into yours.
“JOEL!”
Fortunately, your cameraman was quick to recollect himself, planting a knee on either side of your chest once he’d knocked you onto your back. Then, from above, he angled the grey-black hunk of metal just a foot away:
“Anything you’d like to say to the folks watching at home, ma’am?” Joel inquired, suddenly assuming all the poise and matter-of-fact elocution of a news reporter.
You stuck your tongue out at the camera and blew the wettest, fattest raspberry you could muster in response.
Joel hummed, zoomed in on your lips, and nodded.
“Fascinating,” he said, pretending to make sense of the fart noise you’d just made with your mouth, “Have you ever given thought to maybe...sucking cock on camera?”
The swiftness with which he was able to dodge your kick was remarkable. He swayed the camera just out of reach before you could shove it away and say, ‘Joel, quit being GROSS’ and he promptly replied, ‘Ain’t that the whole point of a sex tape, sweet pea? Bein’ a little bit gross?’ And you playfully tried to kick him again, only this time, he caught your foot and yanked you closer to him. He turned the camcorder back to your face and grinned.
“That’s my little pornstar,” he murmured with affection. Then, zooming in again, this time to find your panty line, “Riiiiight there.”
You knew giving Joel Miller recording privileges for an occasion as momentous as this was a bad idea. At the rate you were going now, you’d be seeing the sunrise through the window before you ever got a glimpse of his dick. You needed to take matters into your own hands.
Literally.
You crawled on all fours to get to Joel across the bed.
The man, kneeling with the camera pointed in your direction, looked up to cock a brow at you.
“Sweetheart, hey, can ya do that one more—”
“Hush,” you muttered, closing in on his crotch.
Your head was lowered so you could undo the front of his jeans. Because of this, your back was arched, and your ass was pointed up just the slightest bit. For a second, Joel seemed torn between tilting the lens to your lower half or your face, which was inching ever closer to the bulge in his trousers. In time, he landed on the latter.
He swallowed. That sight never got old—and seeing it displayed on the camcorder’s semi-grainy screen only made it that much hotter. Joel shifted on his knees while you worked him out of his boxers, watching the nimble movements of your fingers as you wrestled the fabric.
“Wanna—” Glancing to the side of the bed, “—maybe—”
“Yup.”
Both of you liked it better on the floor: you on your knees in front of Joel, chin tilted up to see his reactions as you sucked him off. You loved to sink between his legs and then see and feel nothing but him, brain going blank the moment his cock filled your mouth. Joel slid a pillow under your knees before widening his stance some.
“Is it on?” Your hand was wrapped firmly around the base of his cock and your lips were hovering an inch from the tip. You resisted the urge to lick the precum off just yet.
“Darlin’, it’s been on ever since you stepped outta the bathroom in that— that—” Joel seemed to be searching for a word when the head of his cock was enveloped in a kiss. You dragged your tongue across the slit of him and collected the hot, salty beads with a muffled moan.
Then you pulled off.
“Teddy,” you said, reminding him of the name for that pretty little tulle and lace getup you currently had on.
“Teddy,” Joel echoed, his mind a million miles away from any lingerie jargon at the moment. He held the camera tighter as you took him back into your mouth and sank deeper on his cock. He struggled to keep it steady.
It was strange, watching Joel and the rounded glass of the lens as you did this dirty thing that was only meant to be shared between you and him. Knowing it would be recorded, saved for future viewing, displayed on some dimly lit screen in Joel’s bedroom maybe one, twice, or more likely than not, several dozen times over the next three months. You wondered how you might look from this new point of view; though, you weren’t so sure you needed to know what sight Joel was made privy to while you sucked and hollowed your cheeks around his cock.
As it turned out, that uncertainty wasn’t meant to last you very long, because Joel flipped the camera’s screen around two seconds later. Some sepia-tinted, pixelated rendition of your face, framed by the date and time and a bright red flashing dot beside the word ‘REC’ were the first to greet you. You flinched back just a little.
“Joel,” you said, almost bashful, “Flip it back.”
Joel just grinned. Then he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged you closer to him, thumb stroking over your scalp, “C’mon, darlin’, don’t ya wanna see how goddamn pretty ya look on your knees for me?”
You didn’t think you looked pretty at all. In fact, you reckoned your features looked something more like an alien utility funnel than a real, human face as you tilted your chin inward and seemed to be nothing but eyes and a hollowed-out expression, but you let Joel guide you back onto him all the same. You heard a low rumble of pleasure take shape in his chest as your lips slid over his shaft. Your gaze remained glued to the screen as you did.
Wet with saliva and a few faint traces of precum, you continued to bob your head up and down. Joel’s groans grew louder, and your drive to take him further and further surged as well. By the time his hand was tightening into a white-knuckled fist in your hair, you’d nearly taken him all the way to the back of your throat, and your nose was no more than an inch from the soft tufts of hair on his belly. Joel let out a shuttering breath.
“Fuck me,” he heaved. You might’ve smiled if your lips weren’t otherwise occupied. Then he clenched his hand even harder and murmured, “Can you— can I, please—”
Again, you didn’t need him to finish the rest of the question to know what he wanted. You moved your head back just slightly to nod, a low, ‘Mhmm’ reverberating down the length of his dick as you gave him permission. Joel swallowed and set the camera aside immediately.
He placed it on the nightstand, perfectly level with your head, to the side. Then he rotated the device just a bit, took one glance at the screen, and shortly returned to where you were watching him with wide, glossy eyes.
“Ready?” he asked. His right hand now joined the left at the back of your head, but not before thumbing a quick touch over your cheek to get a feel for your approval.
You hummed once more. You watched Joel’s hips move forward, hands secure around your scalp all the while, and you felt a gentle nudge at the back of your throat. Then another. You couldn’t help the impulse to gag, but thankfully, it was short-lived. Joel peered down at you, eyes searching yours for any plea to stop or slow down, but he found nothing. He sheathed himself deeper until your lips were brushing the base of his dick. He groaned.
“That’s a good…fuckin’ girl,” he managed, voice strained, “Takin’ my cock so deep.”
He shifted his hips to move an inch or two out, then slid his cock forward again, bumping that spot at the top of your throat. This time, you were better adjusted to take him and felt your muscles expand and contract around him without activating your gag reflex. Your eyes stayed trained on his face while he dragged his cock back again.
“My pretty girl and her—” Joel stabbed back into you, somehow tender in the way he did it, “—pretty fuckin’ mouth…Sweet thing likes gettin’ facefucked, does she?”
With the increased pace of his thrusts and the grip he had on the sides of your head, you couldn’t quite answer, but Joel could tell from the glint in your eye that you loved when he manhandled and fucked your throat like this. Watched the light sear gently behind those irises as you swallowed every inch of his cock, back and forth, and let your brain break down to little more than a happy, mindless mush. Joel was always keen to oblige you on that front—aroused to no end at the sight of all your thoughts being fucked straight out of your head—and within the next few thrusts, his gut was giving a familiar clench. He pulled halfway out of your mouth, paused, felt the pinch again, then withdrew from your lips fully.
“Get on the bed.”
You straightened back up and made it over to the mattress, quickly. Before you could assume the position you’d been hoping to take on all fours, you felt yourself flipped on your back. Joel yanked your hips to the edge of the bed and kneeled down between your legs. Hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and had them shuffled down your thighs and past your ankles in no time at all. Then, when he lowered his lips to your wet, aching core, you pressed a touch to the crown of his head.
“Joel, wait,” you said. All of a sudden your chest felt tight.
In spite of the fact that your airways were open and completely free from any obstruction—namely, Joel’s big ol’ pico—you still found it difficult to inhale. Some murky, amorphous sense of anxiety weighed over your chest.
When your hand didn’t move from his head and instead pushed him further, Joel furrowed his brows, perplexed.
“What’s’a matter, darlin’?”
You shook your head, more to yourself than to him.
“I haven’t…just— haven’t washed down there today…o-or shaved,” you stammered, “Don’t want you to taste it.”
That was largely a lie. You’d bathed, shaved, and prepared for this just fine, but really were more concerned about the novel optics that loomed overhead. Being filmed in such a singularly vulnerable state without knowing how to act. You were fine when the attention was focused on Joel and his pleasure, but something about having your every whimper and moan laid bare before you on film felt daunting. Unnerving, in a way.
Joel frowned while rubbing your thigh. His brow pinched inward again, as if he were considering something.
Then he moved across your body, and your muscles eased with relief at the thought that he’d just let it go and get to fucking you exactly how you wanted. You reached for him, ready to wrap your legs around his waist, when a yelp clawed out of your throat. You found that you didn’t get to touch his chest, or his cheeks, or his big, broad, beefy shoulders, as you were promptly thrown over the latter of the three body parts and lifted when Joel stood up from the bed. He started carrying you across the room, heedless of the startled, ‘What the FUCK, Miller?’ you’d cried the second he took one step.
Hardwood floors transformed to tile before your eyes, and shortly, you realized you were being brought into your bathroom.
You heard the squeak of some metal knob being turned, then a brief sputter, then a spray of water raining down on your shower floor. You were still being held hostage over Joel’s shoulder, try as you might to bite at his lower back or smack his ass in an attempt to break loose.
He set you down a second later, seemingly unfazed.
“Get in.” He nodded toward the shower.
Before you had a chance to respond, he left. You stood back in disbelief—refusing to go into the shower and let Joel have his win—but just as you opened your mouth to call out and tell him as much, his form slipped back in through the door. Naked, now, and wielding that stupid, goddamned camcorder with a devious glint in his eye.
“Will you—” You held out a defensive hand in front of you, cheeks already heating, “—stop with that?!”
Secretly, the corners of your lips were fighting a smile as Joel drew closer with the camera held up to your face.
“There she is, folks,” he announced, as though speaking to a crowd, or else reading off of a script from the world’s most cheesy porno, “My dirty, dirty girl says she needs a shower—don’t ya, sweet pea?”
It sounded so ridiculous and dumb that neither one of you could keep from laughing. Even as you lifted your middle finger in response, Joel grinned and smacked your ass. Steadied the camera out in front, nudged you closer to the shower, and watched you somewhat begrudgingly obey his orders. Once you’d stripped what little remained on your body, you stepped into the tub.
Add to ‘ridiculous and dumb’ just wildly unsexy as well—who the hell needed a soapy interlude to a sex tape?
Joel Miller, apparently. He constricted his grip on the camera and followed you in, tongue already skimming the backs of his teeth in anticipation. You turned away to step under the shower’s stream, and he wasted no time getting a shot of your derrière. You leaned forward and sighed.
The water worked wonders to get your muscles to loosen some, but still, you were nervous. You could clean up now, stall a little longer, maybe even offer to give Joel head again—but what if he really wanted to eat you out on camera? You couldn’t put off the conversation forever.
Or another minute, it seemed.
You let out a shriek when you felt Joel’s fingers sneak up between your thighs. You hardly knew what he was doing, just folding limply when he spun you around to press your back against the shower wall. Your eyes widened to see him descending your body once more.
“I lied,” Joel said, smirk painted clear across his features, “You’re not dirty—I just wanted to eat your pussy in the shower ‘s’all.”
Chivalry was evidently alive and well in Austin, Texas.
No truer words could have been spoken, and yet, you felt wildly uncomfortable the second Joel’s head dipped between your legs and that big, dumb, handsome face started licking stripes up your sensitive core. You cast a glance to the side and saw the camcorder perched on the sink—just through the open slit in the shower curtain, you could see it pointed directly at you.
You shivered and started to push Joel away.
“Can we maybe just—”
“Sweetie?!”
Joel’s lips tore out of your cunt quicker than a sneeze through a screen door. His eyes were wide.
“Y-Yeah, dad?” you squeaked, tone almost fearful.
“Everything okay in here? I heard ya scream,” your dad returned shortly.
You could only imagine the expression of confusion and distress painting his every lineament in that moment. Probably just barely sticking his head through the crack in the door and blinking anxiously through the steam.
Your dad was caring like that.
He just never knew the right times to show up.
No, there were very few times where you would’ve liked to see him less—apart from that one time you’d sucked Joel’s dick under the table at your dad’s birthday dinner. Your heart was thudding a wild, erratic beat in your chest, and you could only imagine how Joel was feeling. Probably seeing visions of a Size 11 boot being shoved up his ass if his friend happened to slide the shower curtain to the side and see him nose-deep in his daughter’s box.
That would be bad. So very, very bad and probably ten times worse than when Tommy had caught you blowing his brother at the aforementioned birthday party. You just couldn’t seem to catch a break these days.
You sucked in a breath and answered anyway.
“I thought I saw a spider.”
“Really?” You could already sense the embittered tinge to your dad’s voice, harking back to the war he’d once declared on all wolf spiders in the home, “Want me to kill it?”
The next thing you heard was two boots thud on the bathroom floor outside the shower, and you could’ve sworn you saw Joel’s whole soul leap from his body. He shot a frantic look around him, spotted a window above, and seemed to wonder for half a second if he might be able to shimmy his 188-pound frame through a space that probably wasn’t big enough to fit a fat raccoon. He slumped his weight against the shower wall and winced.
“No! I— It wasn’t even a spider. Just a…roach.”
Shortly, Joel’s eyes widened even more and met yours, as if to ask, ‘Why the FUCK would you say that?’
“A roach?!” your dad cried simultaneously.
Apparently, you’d forgotten that any derivative of the word ‘cockroach’ was like a sleeper agent activation phrase for middle-aged fathers who wanted to keep their homes free of all household pests. The look on Joel’s haggard, world-weary face communicated as much to you, and for a second, you remembered that he, too, was built the same way as any other semi-old dude you knew.
Just bigger and beefier and…harder below the belt than you would’ve expected most men around his age to be.
You quickly chided yourself for ogling Joel’s dick at a time like this and replied to your father, shrill, “No!”
Then, slightly more composed, “No, no— I already took it out with some hairspray and told it to fuck off to hell.”
An attempt at humor was the last leg you had to stand on. Fortunately, it worked.
Outside the shower, your dad chuckled, and his footsteps started to shuffle off toward the door.
“Ah. Atta girl,” he beamed, ever the advocate for brutal cockroach killings, “If you see another, just holler, okay?”
“Okay.”
You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, and you almost fell to the floor. Joel probably would’ve been facedown just as well—fear seeping out of his body along with every last ounce of willpower to stand—had he not made a dive for you as soon as your dad had left.
The force of his push sent you straight into the wall, legs forced to wrap around his waist as he buried his face in your neck.
“Thank fuck,” he breathed.
“You’re welcome,” you murmured, swiping the water out of your eyes with a grimace.
Then, just as you were about to request that Joel lower you back down to the floor and out of the shower’s spray, you felt a nudge between your legs. Luckily not a tongue this time—just Joel, or the tip of his leaking cock. The man below you grinned, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a wash of relief. Could it be?
“I’ll still eat you out if y’want,” he started, though speaking with a little less conviction this time around, “But after all that I, uh—kinda jus’ wanna fuck ya stupid.”
Well thank fuck for fake spiders and cockroaches, too; you’d just averted a dreaded tonguefuck, thanks to that detour.
You’d worry about your pornstar moans and on-camera charisma another time—now you could just sit back and let Joel do all the work while he took you against the wall.
Really, there was no need to concern yourself with anything at all from that point forward. Once you’d given Joel the green light, he was sinking you onto his cock with a grunt and making sure you felt nothing but him. His hands found your hips and held you firmly in place as he rutted into you from below, your own fingers latching onto his shoulders for some much-needed support. Both of you knew that you needed to be extra quiet now—seeing how sound seemed to carry in that tight, tiled space—so Joel snagged your lips in his for a kiss.
He was practically panting in your mouth by the time you started meeting his thrusts. His fingertips slid some and must’ve seared ten perfect crescents into the flesh of your ass as he fucked you into the wall.
“Look so pretty like this,” he whispered in between kisses and short, shallow breaths. His cock parted your insides with an excruciating welt of pleasure, and he hardly even seemed to realize it, “Look so damn pretty takin’ cock.”
Then, lips kicking up in a smile when it seemed he’d remembered something, he added, “Can’t wait to play this tape back home and watch us fuck all over again.”
Again. Again. And again. Shit, you could just see it now.
Your eyes traversed the compact shower space once more to find the video camera—still perched, still live, still perfectly implacable and silent atop the sink as it recorded your every grunt, groan, and shuddering moan. You were nearly as curious to know what Joel’s bare ass looked like rutting into you like this as you were to hear yourself getting railed against the shower wall. Maybe you’d beat this fear of secondhand embarrassment after all.
Maybe.
Joel’s teeth snagged your bottom lip and bit it, lightly.
“Every chance I get, you can bet I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout this…sweet pussy while you’re away,” he said, voice low and occasionally punctured by a groan, “Say one more thing f’me and I’ll…cum every time I watch this part.”
The kinks at the corners of his lips were endearing. You would’ve liked to supply them with just about anything they could’ve wanted, so when they leaned into your ear and murmured just what it was they needed to hear, you only hesitated a second.
Or maybe two or three, because, well…it was risky.
Moaning ‘daddy’ out loud at a time like this? It might get Joel off quick, but it might send your real dad running even faster. You weren’t crazy about the thought of anything that might draw the man’s attention again.
Joel seemed a little less risk-averse than you, notwithstanding the window-leaping fear he’d felt when your dad had rushed in before. Leave it to a criminally horny man to have the memory of a goldfish, though.
At present, Joel was blinking and gawking a bit like one, too, waiting for you to enunciate that one magic word.
You couldn’t deny he made a damn cute desperate sex fiend when he wanted to be. And you needed to cum.
You figured you could cut a deal with him just this once.
“Alright,” you mumbled against the top of his stubbled lip, “Make me cum and I’ll say anything you want, Miller.”
You weren’t sure if it was a chuckle or a strangled moan that jumped up in his throat when Joel squeezed your sides tighter. All you knew was that he was lowering you to the floor in the next instant, spinning you around, and walking you forward, swiftly and with purpose, toward the opposite end of the shower. Right where the crack in the curtain made you most visible to the camcorder.
Joel’s hand snaked around your front and gently eased between your legs. Then, pressing his chest to your back and nudging you to bend just slightly at the waist, he tipped your bodies closer to the camera’s line of vision and stilled. From the LED screen, you could see the ghost of a smile crossing his lips as he shifted his head beside your own. Next, they were kissing across your shoulder, your neck, that sensitive spot behind your ear, and finally the shell of it, brown eyes trained on the camera lens as he murmured to you, “Stay real still.”
You didn’t know if you could. But you tried. And you damn near cried when his fingers started working circles over your clit. Your body was raised on tip-toes, and your hand was bracing the wall as Joel fucked you from behind and made a mess of your wet, writhing body. In no more than three or four strokes, your fears of looking or sounding stupid on camera trickled away with all the rest of the silent, sizzling liquids circling the drain below. Your cheek pressed against Joel’s rougher one, and with the push of each new thrust, you came more unraveled.
When Joel’s hand closed over the front of your throat, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t move—couldn’t move, as the man was holding you still in such a taut, rigid grip.
“What do we say when we get fucked this nice, baby?” Joel whispered in your ear, words almost entirely masked by the sounds from the shower. You still heard it, though.
“T-Thank you,” you stuttered, cockdrunk and faint.
“Thank you, what?”
Your eyes were fluttering closed, but you could feel the smug expression just over your shoulder. You clenched around him and felt him snap his hips ahead even harder.
“Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered.
“Say it again.”
“Thank you, daddy!” you whined, still scared to be too loud.
Joel wasn’t scared. His hand ascended the column of your neck to pinch your chin between his fingers, jerking your head to the right.
To the crack in the curtain. To the camera.
You could’ve cried with how fast he was fucking you now. You opened your eyes and cast a pathetic look to the recorder. Joel made sure you maintained that gaze, too.
“Who’s makin’ ya feel this good?” he seethed, shaking your whole frame with the breakneck pace of his hips.
“You, daddy.”
“Who’s fuckin’ this sweet cunt like no one ever has?”
“You, daddy.”
Joel seemed sated and somehow not fully satisfied at all. Like he was pleased to see you falling apart for him like this, but needed to hear more. Feel more.
He withdrew from you, and you nearly collapsed with the absence of his arms holding you straight.
You pressed a shaky palm to the wall and almost moaned for him to get his ass back over here, you weren’t done, when Joel returned in a second. To your relief, his muscly arms found their way around your front once more, and his clock plunged back inside you, too—only this time, you sensed you were missing something else.
Water.
It wasn’t on your back anymore.
It was fanning between your legs.
Blasting the full force of its stream toward your most sensitive parts as Joel held the shower head up between your thighs. You would’ve jumped back and screamed were it not for his hand clamping tight over your mouth before you could, his lips grazing over your ear again.
“Try it one more time.”
You released a hoarse, muffled squeal into his palm when he lifted the stainless steel to your clit and started rolling his hips. The strokes themselves were relatively gentle, but paired with the ruthless spate of the water, your eyes were nearly rolling to the back of your head at the pulse.
You couldn’t breathe, much less speak. Joel hummed almost apologetically into your hair but didn’t seem sorry at all as he lowered his hand back down to your throat and squeezed. He continued rocking his hips into yours.
“You’ve said it dozens of times before—what’s’a matter?”
Joel Miller knew what the fuck was the matter. He just liked to see you desperate, fucked-out, and teetering on the brink of going feral before he let you reach your peak.
“D-D-D—”
Damn, you sounded stupid.
“D-D-Do you wanna cum? Is that it?” Joel said, mocking your struggle to articulate words as he fucked you.
In spite of your normal no-bullshit attitude toward him, you weren’t in quite the right frame of mind to be talking back to him. You just nodded and moaned, movements constricted by the grip of his fingers on your neck.
“Use those big girl words for me, honey. I know ya can.”
Again, you parted your lips and started to speak, but the oscillation of the water, the brush of his cock, the patently deprecating lilt in Joel’s string of praises, made it nearly impossible. You ended up sputtering again,
“D-D-ah-fuuuckfuckfuck.”
“That ain’t the word I’m looking for.”
But, just as you ventured to say it once more, he cut in,
“Here. Lemme help ya find it.”
Before you could blink, Joel was pistoning his hips against your ass like he had before, only this time, he held the shower head stationary between your legs as you seized and nearly fell to the floor with the force of all the pleasure coursing through you. Your body seemed to act of its own accord, head dropping to Joel’s shoulder and stomach giving an alarmingly fitful pinch as an orgasm tore through you. You couldn’t control how it came or where it went—or how your tongue jumped up and cried,
“Daddy!”
Joel nodded, fucking you through each violent spasm with all the composure and aplomb of a seasoned pro. While your eyes cycled back in the throes of delirium, he held firm and didn’t slow his hips—or the shower head.
You probably could’ve torn a hole through a cinder block if you’d happened to have one between your teeth just then. That was how fervid and merciless the aftershocks of your climax were pulsing through you, exacerbated to the nth degree by the continuity of Joel’s movements. You managed to grab the forearm that was holding the metal nozzle and plead a wild, slightly stifled, “JOEL!”
In truth, you didn’t really want him to stop. It felt too good. You could tell that Joel sensed this, too, because in the instant after that, his lips were sponging kisses to your shoulder, cock working steadily between your walls.
“One more, sweet pea.”
“Joel—”
“And say it louder this time.”
Were you in your right mind, you probably would’ve chided him for being so reckless and stupid about it all. How the fuck could he expect you to scream out loud when your dad was lounging right outside of your room? Did he really think the drone of Cillian Murphy’s smooth, American-ized tone would mask your unbridled moans? Honestly, you couldn’t be sure—and more importantly, you couldn’t be stopped to consider for much longer. With one last trembling vibration from the shower head and a thrust from Joel, you were cumming all over again.
Squeezing his arm, sinking into his sturdy frame, clenching over his cock in what felt like a hundred convulsions, and casting caution aside, you screamed:
“DADDY!”
You might’ve blacked out for a second or two.
Even a minute, as it was, because the next intelligible thing that reached your ears was the thunder of footfalls. And the thrum of Joel’s own hammering heart as he yanked you into his chest and stilled frozen inside you.
The door swung open on its hinges so hard it hit the wall.
“What is it, sweetie?!” your dad yelped.
“I—”
“Are you hurt?”
Just fucked raw by your best friend and shaking, Pops.
You sucked in a breath when Joel nudged your head with his nose and slowly pulled the shower curtain closed to move you out of view of the camera. But it was still there.
Your dad was still there.
The shower walls seemed to be closing in on you, but somehow, you managed, “No, dad, I’m fine! Just…coulda sworn I saw another spider in here, but it was nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
Your dad sounded unconvinced, pacing closer. You could’ve screamed, but Joel was likely holding you too tight to make any such sounds possible in that moment. The two of you recoiled, still stuck chest-to-back, away from the edge of the plastic shower liner when a boot thudded just outside the crack between curtain and wall.
You swallowed. Joel squeezed. Neither of you breathed.
“If it’s another roach, I gotta call the extermin—”
“No! No, it wasn’t a roach. I’m just seein’ things, I think.”
That didn’t seem to make your father feel any better, because he didn’t retreat like he had before. A tense moment fell over the compact, fog-infested room, like the man was chewing away at some thought in his head.
Then he sighed.
“Alright.”
Blissful footsteps away from the shower. You smiled.
Unfortunately, the grin was destined to be short-lived, because in the next instant, you heard boots screech to a halt on the tile. Pivoted, then paused where they stood.
Another gut-wrenching dozen seconds passed, and for one short, chilling moment, you could’ve sworn you felt your father’s gaze sear through the curtain and see you.
But he didn’t see you. Or Joel. Or anyone.
Instead, his gaze was fixed someplace else.
Suddenly, his voice rose above all the awful noises of clamor and panic in your brain, and broke out, loudly,
“What’s my camera doin’ in here?”
#TO THE CREATIVE MINDS WHO BROUGHT THIS MAN’S BUSH TO TELEVISION…..I OWE Y’ALL MY LIFE#it took COURAGE and TENACITY to decide that showing the happy trail was essential to the narrative#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us fic#joel miller x you#dbf!joel#dbf!joel miller
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
hello my foul little beasties, i am taking a (hopefully brief) hiatus to deal with some health & personal issues. in the meantime here are some terrible awful no good wholesome fun facts i've been meaning to share:
bone china is called bone china bc yes it contains bones!
i'm not saying that autistic bees exist but autistic bees exist
for 15 years sweden thought russian submarines were invading its waters; it turned out to be herrings farting
cows have regional accents
sometimes massive fields of ice eggs wash up on beaches. literally just ice shaped like eggs. that is a thing that sometimes happens and i derive joy from this peculiar world
15K notes
·
View notes
Text
why is it so BUSY AT MY JOB
#stress is having to fix the register by YOURSELF when your boss it out because nobody else jnows how!!!!#and having two thousand older adults breathe down your neck and fart up the room in the meantime stressing you out!!!!#AHHHHHHHHHHHH#i want to go home#and when u tell someone you dont have a bathroom for their kid to use they say loudly to your face yhat theyll let them use the parking lot#and then you go to the bathroom and cry while you eat your peanut butter crackers because youve already been sucked dry of all your energy#its TOO MANY AURAS AROUND ME
1 note
·
View note
Note
Hii can I request something with jealous Megumi and Gojo it can be spicy or fluffy as much as you wantt. Btw i adoreee your writting <333
I'm so glad you like my writing love, there you go <3 I don't know why I got so carried away by Gojo again, but I hope you still like it - let me know :)
How JJK men act when they're jealous
Pairing: Gojo x reader; Megumi x reader
Word Count: 3,2k (how lol)
Warnings: Gojo part escalated again and isn't that much about jealousy, language, mini mentions of intercourse
Gojo Satoru
„Urgh, this shit is so annoying. At least you’re looking hot next to me, Babe”, Satoru signs while casually placing an arm around your waist.
It really is annoying. The two of you were sent out in order to find a man who might have important information regarding three of Sukuna’s fingers. And there he stands, casually in a white suit while sipping on his glass of wine and talking to random women. But is this really the right way? After all, you smuggled into this extravagant event that seems to involve only the richest of the rich around Tokyo.
“We’ll never get to him by just standing here together”, you breathe out.
No, with all these women surrounding him, there’s absolutely no chance to start a conversation randomly. You pull up your black sleeves and look around. Damn, how pathetic these women are, roaming around as if they’re looking for meat. Some of them even tried to seduce Satoru, even though you’re standing right by his side. Well, you can’t blame them though. He’s looking absolutely delicious in his elegant black suit, probably the most eye-catching man they have ever seen.
“Maybe I need to join the fray too”, you suggest, eyes darted towards a random girl in a scandalous short dress who caresses the man’s chest.
“You? You don’t belong there, (y/n). I don’t want you near that disgusting old fart”, Gojo hisses through gritted teeth, his grip around your waist tightens.
“Too bad that’s kinda the job today. Listen, you are my boyfriend, but right now I need to seduce that man. You want to stop this madness too, right?”
Satoru signs audible, his jaw so tense that it might snap.
“But you look so good in that black dress babe”, Satoru mutters.
“And I do that just for you, okay? Just please, let me do my job darling.”
“I could rip out his fingers one by one until he tells me the truth, y’know”, he breathes against your ear.
You can’t help but let out a little giggle. It’s always like that. Satoru is so possessive over you that it’s making your life hard sometimes. As if he doesn’t know that he’s walking sex himself, as if your heart wouldn’t belong to only him.
“Come on, we both know you’d never do that. How do I look?”
You push your skin tight black dress up to make your cleavage look even better, fingers caressing the soft fabric so that it falls perfectly. Everything has to appear right. You want to get this mission over with as soon as possible.
“You’re always looking gorgeous”, he murmurs offended, bright blue orbs looking you up and down behind his sunglasses.
“Don’t make such a face, I’ll be back as soon as I have what we want. Maybe roam around in the meantime and look for sweets?”, you suggest kindly.
“You’re the only candy I want, babe.”
His words alone send goosebumps down your spine. God, this man will be your death, you just know it. But for now, you need to straighten your back, stick out your chest and swing your hips on your way to the old man who is the key to Sukuna’s disgusting fingers.
“I’ll be back in a minute”, you hush and get going.
It isn’t hard for you to catch his attention. To be exact, the second he lays his eyes on your delicious curves covered by an elegant black gown all the women around you seem to be gone. His gaze almost eats you up alive. God, how sickening. You want nothing more than a hot bath with Satoru with some Netflix and chill. But this has to wait.
“I have to admit, this is a very nice party”, you purr while showing him your most seductive red-lipped smile.
“Nice to hear coming from a woman that wasn’t even invited”, he remarks, a playful grin creeping up his old face.
“What a woman doesn’t do to put on a dress and act like a princess for an evening.”
You can see the way his eyes darken at the sound of your oh so sweet voice. Wow, if you weren’t a jujutsu-sorcerer you would definitely have become an actress.
Satoru can hear every word you sing-sang at that old fart in front of you, he can sense the way he’s longing to touch your delicate features. God, how much he would love to storm over, slap him away from you and get home. But he shouldn’t. He knows he can’t do that. You insisted on him staying in the background, you want to do this on your own-
“A woman like you doesn’t have to pretend to be a princess. You look like a queen, darling.”
Darling. Did he just call you by your nickname? His skin begins to tingle in hot anger, eyes piercing through the man hazardously. No one is allowed to call you darling expect him. No. one. Who does he think he is? Just because he has a shit ton of money.
“Then I’m a good fit for you. There’s actually something you could do for me, I want something you have”, you continue, your voice intoxicating Gojo’s thoughts.
You never talked like that to a man apart from him. That old fart doesn’t deserve the attention you give him, he doesn’t deserve that you even look his way. You should lay in Satoru’s arms light now, his hands gently stroking your hair while he admires how gorgeous you look.
“If you want something I have, you will have to give me something in exchange I fear.”
You knew this would happen. Looking good and flirting isn’t enough for men like him. In fact, you can tell by a glimpse into his old eyes what he wants. He desires to be alone with you, in a distant room far away from the crowds. The thought alone makes your gut twist in disgust. God, if he touches your body you might throw up. Do you really have to do this? Is this the only way to get a hold of Sukuna’s fingers before the enemy finds them? Fuck, what are you supposed to do?
“What do you have in mind?”, you hum, voice not giving any hint of your thoughts.
He lets out a deep chuckle, hands gliding in your direction.
“I say we’ll discuss this matter more privately, what do you think?” he murmurs.
This mission is very important, everyone at Jujutsu High made that very clear. That’s why they sent you along with Gojo. You’ve never screwed up a mission, always keen to do your very best at stopping the madness of curses. You never fail, you never miss. Even if it means you have to make sacrifices. Even if it means that you have to sell yourself for some stupid information…
Your gaze wanders to your gorgeous boyfriend, his jaw so tense that it could snap any minute, both hands balled into fists. How much he hates to see you like that, on your way to a place where he can’t follow. But you just have to do this. He needs to understand that. Hopefully he does…
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
He elegantly extends his shriveled hand to you and leads you across the huge hall into a stairwell, away from the crowds and the reassuring eyes of Gojo. You are now on your own with that stranger in a room with a queen-size bed in the middle of his.
“Finally some privacy.”
The man places himself between you and the door, his eyes roaming over you as if you’re his prey. Fuck, you feel like fainting, screaming and crying at the same time. Over and over you tell yourself that this is your job, that you have to make sacrifices just like everyone else, that you don’t need to have a bad conscience. But as soon as your mind wanders to your boyfriend you aren’t so sure about all of that anymore.
“There is no need to rush though, you don’t even know what I want to talk about.”
Your voice is solid and confident, but you can definitely feel your knees going weak. Panic flickers through your mind as he locks the door with a swift motion.
“I don’t need to know what you want. You need to pay first before you receive any information from me”, he remarks, voice cold as eyes.
“And now come here and open my belt for me, will you?
You feel like crying, all of your confidence is washed away in the matter of seconds. You thought you are able to take it all if it means to complete your mission, that it doesn’t bother you to touch another man apart from Satoru in exchange for Sukuna’s fingers. But you can’t. The thought of his hands on your body sends shivers down your spine – not in the good way.
“I’m not here for sexual interaction.”
“Sure, that’s why you shove up your tits and swing your hips like that. Don’t be so prudish, I’ll give you what you want after you gave me what I want.”
You want to get out, as far away from his approaching figure and back into Satoru’s arms. But the only way out is locked. Fuck, what the hell did you get yourself into? Satoru…You will certainly not look at him the same after this. Never in your life you should have allowed that to happen. No mission in the world is worth losing your pride over it, your power over your own body. Screw Sukuna’s fingers, sooner or later Satoru will find them anyway. This was a bad idea right from the start.
“Are you finally coming here or do I have to force you?”
Your face goes pale in an instant, body too shocked to move an inch. The look in his eyes tells you that he’s not playing around. This man doesn’t give a fuck about whenever you want him or not. Fuck, you are an extraordinary jujutsu-sorcerer, your powers surpass him in every aspect. Why the hell is all you can do to stare at him with your doe eyes? Why don’t you fight back as soon as his hands burn against your bare skin? Why aren’t you screaming Satoru’s name?
“Get your dirty hands off my girlfriend.”
The split of a second is enough for Satoru to force himself into the room, bright blue orbs gleaming in thick anger.
“Get the fuck out, young man. Do I have to call security? You can have her when I’m done”, he old fart hisses into his face.
“I’m really trying to be a good person, but you are testing my patience, old man. I’ll say it one last time: Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her.”
Tears of shock, despair and relief begin to cloud your eyes while his grip around your shoulder tightens.
“Fine. I won’t hold back then.”
A little motion of Satoru’s pinky finger is enough to blast the man away from you. His figure slams against the wall, head instantly covered in crimson while Satoru rushes to your side.
“If you ever dare to touch my woman again I’ll kill you. Got it?”
“Come on, fuck that information. Let’s get you out of here”, he gently mumbles against your ear.
Gently, he wraps his arm around your trembling shoulders and escorts you out of the enormous building into the comforting darkness of the night.
“I can’t believe I let this happen”, he snorts out, face completely twisted in fury.
Fuck the upper ranks and their senseless missions. You are his girlfriend, god damn. How could he let another man touch you, let alone be alone with you? The thought of this old fart and his dirty hands against your soft skin make his blood boil all over again. You belong to him only.
“It’s not your fault, Satoru. I thought I have to so this, that I’m a jujutsu sorcerer and the mission is always the most important. But…I can’t let another man apart from you touch me like that. It’s just not possible. You are the only one I want and need”, you blurt out, hot tears streaming down your face and ruining your perfect makeup.
God, how much he hates to see you like that. All of that for some fucking fingers? This has to be a joke. He is the strongest, if he can’t find them then who else can? Why do you have to feel miserable about something like that?
“And I promise you that I will never let another man touch you like this again. You are my girlfriend, my everything. (y/n) I-“
Desperately, he cups your face with his hands, forehead pressed against his. You close your eyes, take in this bittersweet moment. Satoru, the man you love more than the entire earth saved you again.
“I love you more than anything else. The thought of him being alone with you in this room killed me, I just couldn’t stand it. This will never happen again. You are my darling and mine alone, you hear?”
“I just wanna be yours, Satoru”, you breathe against his lips before he grabs your shoulders and kisses you so passionately that you feel like flying.
God, how much you loved this man. And moments like this make it very clear to you that he loves you too. Satoru Gojo would rather get into trouble with the elders than seeing you in the arms of another man.
“You are, darling. Let’s get home, shall we? Then I’m gonna show you how much I really love you…”
Megumi Fushiguro
He knows it’s absolutely dumb and ridiculous. You’ve been his girlfriend since three years, always by his side, not even the slightest interested in other boys. He just knows that you love him dearly, with all your heart. But why on earth does it hurt so bad to see you talking to this unfamiliar jujutsu-sorcerer? Why does it bother him so much to see him smile down at you and even worse, to witness you laugh at his completely senseless joke?
“Megumi, come here!”, you shout over your shoulder, smile as wide as ever.
He grumbles into himself. Megumi would rather die than to talk to this guy whose eyes are all over you and your gorgeous features. Who is this anyway? He never saw him around Jujutsu High, let alone on missions. So he can’t be that strong right? Surely, he isn’t any better than Megumi himself…Right?
“Don’t be shy! Come on!”
Your hand grips his arms tightly and shoves him into the direction of the stranger. Normally he adores the way you cling onto him – not today though, not in this situation when you force him to confront the guy who’s obviously flirting with you.
“Let me introduce you to my longtime friend Botan! Botan, this is my boyfriend Megumi!”, you introduce him with a proud grin.
Even Megumi escapes a little smile. Good, you called him boyfriend in front of this jerk. Then he should know where his place is.
“Your boyfriend? Are you sure about that?”, the unknown face replies, voice dripping in sarcasm while looking Megumi up and down.
“Come on Botan, stop the crap”, you giggle.
Megumi isn’t amused at all. In fact, he is absolutely furious. One look into this jerks eyes is enough to know that this statement wasn’t a dumb joke. Botan wants you, his girlfriend, his entire world.
“Yeah, stop the crap and get the fuck away before I make you.”
Your heart sinks into your chest, smile dropping immediately. One glance into Megumi’s face and the way the vein on his forehead pulsates is enough to understand that he is fueled with rage. And that almost never happens.
“You against me? I don’t want to beat you up in front of your ‘girlfriend’. Or wait, maybe she needs to see how I beat your ass to understand that I’m the better catch. You don’t deserve (y/n)”, Botan hisses back.
“Botan”, you breathe out outraged.
“Megumi has been my boyfriend for years! I love him dearly! Never in my life would I want to exchange him!”
“Look at him (y/n)! What does he give you, huh? He isn’t strong, he isn’t that handsome and from what I’ve heard he’s stone cold and introverted, you’re nothing like him! I’ve known you for more than ten years, when will you finally understand that I have exactly what you need?”
You are entirely lost at words, it seems like the world around you is collapsing. Of course you’ve been aware of his side-crush this whole time, after all he never made a secret out of it. But to hear it out of his mouth and even worse in front of your beloved boyfriend is terrible. Terrible and wrong.
Megumi shifts his weight besides you, figure now standing dangerously close to Botan’s. Your eyes widen in pure horror, terrified of what might happen next. You know all too well that your boyfriend is very good at making reasoned decisions – never hot-headed, never too hasty, never exaggerated. But the look in his cold blue eyes tells you otherwise. It seems like he’s only seconds away from completely losing it. The usual calm and collected Megumi you know suddenly seems so hot-headed.
“If that’s true, why is (y/n) my girlfriend since three years and I’ve never heard a single word about you? Do yourself a favor and leave us alone, especially (y/n). She is my girlfriend and will always be. A jerk like you won’t change that.”
He casually wraps his arm around your waist while still holding eye contact with Botan, who looks back and forth between the two of you.
“I love him, Botan. And that won’t change. We’ll never be a thing”, you clarify with soft voice.
“And now stop looking at her, we have a mission anyway. See you never.”
With that, Megumi turns on his heels, your frame in his tight grip, and leaves Botan standing in the dust.
“You are mine”, he hisses.
“Only yours.”
“Who does he think he is to take you away from me, huh?”, Megumi blurts out.
“Absolutely ridiculous.”
“(y/n).”
He grips your face and forces you to look at him. God, he looks so perfect, so turbulent, so…hot.
Instead of any other words, he simply presses his lips against yours. Your tongues intertwine with each other, you aren’t even able to catch a breath between the way he longingly gets lost in your mouth.
“I love you”, he mumbles against your lips.
You feel like drowning and flying at the same time, mind completely occupied by the hot-headed Megumi that seems to kiss you to death.
“I love you too, Megumi. More than anything else”, you whisper, hands gripping onto his biceps for dear life.
“More than him”, he speaks out, gaze now locked with yours as if he’s searching for the answer in your glossy orbs.
“A thousand times more than him”, you confirm.
“Good.”
And again, his needy lips crash against yours, remember you with every bite, every kiss and every hushed word that you are his.
Only his.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru#gojo saturo#satoru gojo#gojou satoru x reader#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#gojou satoru x you#gojo#jujustu kaisen#satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo jjk#gojou x reader#gojou satoru x y/n#gojou saturo#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro#jjk megumi#megumi x reader#jujutsu megumi#jujutsu kaisen megumi#fushiguro#fushiguro megumi
478 notes
·
View notes
Text
Silver Fox | Leon S. Kennedy x Reader
content: just fluff and kisses, assumed older Leon, gn!reader, assumed age gap, vague mentions of PTSD, potential sexual tension, no mentions of y/n
author’s note: dunno why but I just had to. proceed at your own risk. what is proofreading?
word count: drabble (also known as brain fart), like really short.
xoxo
***
You notice his silver hair in one of the earlier mornings when he packs for his next assignment, and you cannot take your eyes off him. Leon is too busy to notice your stagger for a while, but when he does, he frowns in puzzlement. It takes you some effort to hide your unbidden smile caused by his sweet frustration. He eyes his clothes and even takes a glimpse into the medium sized mirror on the wall while trying to understand what he did to attract that level of your attention. You see no reason for him to be that cautious with the way he looks in general, but you stay silent up until he orders, doing his best in taking you seriously.
“Stop staring,” he hides his own smirk while buttoning a shirt on a hanger. He is travelling through Washington, D.C., where White House is not the most appropriate place for wearing some cargo pants.
You move forward without saying a word, fixated on that beautiful colourless strand amongst the dirty blonde hair. That mildly triggers him, when you stretch your hand towards the top of his head and touch the crown, his long-ish hair thick and soft. Leon forgets about his expensive suit he wears to meet the President and patiently suffers through the torture.
“I’ll miss you,” he admits in the meantime, a moment before you pull the grey hair out of his crown, soliciting a half serious “ouch” out of agent’s mouth. He looks confused for a second, up until he sees a colourless string in between your fingers, then confused face expression now turning almost immediately terrified.
“Oh no, you didn’t!..”
Leon can’t finish the sentence when you pull him closer, cupping his face and leaving a soft kiss on his lips. He whines for a second more but shuts up right then, gently kissing you back. You know that he’ll be rough and on the edge when he gets back from the mission, so you don’t mind letting his soft side shine while it lasts. For what he has suffered through, he deserves it all.
“I’ll miss you,” you admit easily when the kiss is broken, and the sheepish grin finally touches your lips before you allow yourself to finish the casual confession. “My silver fox.”
He gives you a dirty look, and drops a loving “I hate you,” before eagerly engaging you in another, a lot more passionate kiss.
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#older leon kennedy#infinite darkness#vendetta leon kennedy#resident evil#resident evil x you#leon s. kennedy#leon s kennedy#resident evil x reader#leon drabble
581 notes
·
View notes
Text
Picky eaters, Tricky givers( Mihawk x gn!sick!child!reader)
A/N: Here is to the anon that requested a sick scenario with mihawk, but my brain farted massively and wasn’t able to understand the request, maybe I ‘ll have something in a bit for you to make up for it 👀 Yall did I or did I not COOK WITH THAT TITLE IM SO SMART AND COOL AND HYPE
I hope you get well soon anon : ( and thank you for your kind words!
Dividers by @/saradika
Mihawk enters his child’s room, ready to awaken them from their long slumber
“Reader, it is now noon; you should not be in bed at this time.”
A groan is all he receives as sniffles escape the bundle of blankets
Mihawk sighs and shakes his head as he starts pulling the mountain of blankets that laid on the bed.
“No matter how often I try, you are so difficult to awake...Come now; it is time to get up.” He said pulling the covers all the way
They groan at the loss of heat, sweat covering their body and face red, heavy breaths leaving the child
Mihawk sharp eyes were quick to notice the sweat covering the child’s body and his flushed red skin.
“You’re ill...” the swordsman states
“Im not…” they mumble, squeezing their eyes tighter before slightly opening them, eyes dazed
The child’s voice was barely audible to Mihawk; having to slightly lean closer to properly make out what they were saying.
Mihawk’s eyes furrow upon hearing his child’s reply and seeing their hazy and dazed eyes.
Even though they tried to deny being sick, it was clear that something was awry.
“That is highly unlikely given your current state,” Mihawk said, glancing at the small child, putting his hand over their forehead gingerly
“Im okay, look, im okay,” they drawled, pulling themselves up
Mihawk’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched his child attempt to get up, Sighing as he put biscuits hands on their shoulders to push them back into the bed
“Lay Down”
“You are clearly unwell; I can see your body temperature rising, and you are drenched in sweat... You are clearly unwell... Do not oppose me on this... I will not allow you to leave your bed until you are in full health,” Mihawk spoke sternly yet calmly.
The navy warlord’s eyes were fixated on his child as if trying to gauge the severity of their health.
“Is this regarding the medicine?”
They pout but don’t respond
Mihawk sighed
“I know you hate the medicine... But you must take it for your own good... ,” Mihawk told them carresing their head
“I don’t need it. Im not sick.”
Mihawk’s gentle caress comes to an abrupt pause when he hears his child’s words. He was clearly annoyed with the denial of the child’s sickness.
However, the child’s feverish responses were not matching with their words.
The child’s temperature was still rising, and they were getting increasingly sweaty.
“You need to hydrate yourself; you have lost too much water overnight, and the medicine.”
“It’s yucky.”
Mihawk lets out a light chuckle as he hears his child speak.
He continues to stroke the child’s hair as he replies, clearly amused by what they have to say.
“You can’t avoid things just because they are distasteful; you must accept things whether they are unpleasant or not... So drink the medicine; it will only take a few seconds.”
Mihawk sighed as they just shook their head, realizing this was not going to get him anywhere; only the same loop would repeat if he were to continue this approach.
“I will let the medicine be postponed for later in the day, but you must consume liquids in the meantime.”
They nod, happy with this development
“Apple juice!”
His child was, at times very stubborn about a lot of things, however their desires were quite simple.
“Very well,” he said, leaving them room and shortly returning with said drink.
Mihawk gently tilts his child’s head back, holding the cup filled with juice above their lips.
“Here, thread carefully, as I do not want you to choke,” Mihawk says with a soft but firm voice.
He awaits for the child to follow his orders.
They smiled, taking quickly, drinking the juice until they realized what they were drinking was not juice at all but the medicine that their father had strategically placed behind the juice, a straw in the cup of medicine rather than the juice.
They scrunch their eyes, moving backwards to spit the liquid out, stopped by their father's hand followed by his gentle touch trailing down his throat, stimulating their swallowing mechanism.
Mihawk chuckles as he watches the child realize that the “juice” was actually the medicine he’d been trying to give them.
Clearly, his methods of trying to get his child to consume the medicine were more effective than previously thought.
“ Perhaps next time you should just drink it the first time; I will make you drink it one way or the other,” Mihawk smirks.
“Meanie!” They exclaimed, digging themselves into their cocoons of blankets, leaving a chuckling Mihawk out of view
“I will leave your drink on the table. Be sure to stay hydrated, but do nor rush it.”
The only response he received was the child poking their head momentarily to stick their to tongue out at him
“I take it that you do not want the beverage? If that is the case, I will simply take it; I would rather not waste resources if you will not drink them.”
“No!” They exclaimed, shooting up, grabbing the drink, and gulping it down, glaring at their father as they did
I get more worried each time I do this that Mihawk is so oc to the point that it doesn’t resemble Mihawk anymore 🙃 Is this still Mihawk? Of course I have to be kind to myself as Mihawk also Isn’t super paternal, maybe to a teen like Perona but maybe not a toddler 😂, what we thinking?
#one piece x reader#one piece#one piece x child!reader#one piece fluff#one piece imagine#dracule mihawk#dracule mihawk x reader#dracule mihawk x child!reader#mihawk x child!reader#mihawk fluff#mihawk scenario#mihawk imagine#hawkeye mihawk#hawkeye#mihawk#op mihawk#mihawk x reader#one piece mihawk#mihawk x you#mihawk x y/n#one piece x gender neutral reader#one piece x gn reader#mihawk x gn reader#mihawk x gender neutral ability#Dracule mihawk x gn reader
169 notes
·
View notes
Note
I work in a really boring office, everyone just wears a suit and is so work focused that they never have time for anything fun. Is there anything that I can do with the chronivac to spice things up a little?
Thank goodness it's Friday. You still have two meetings to get through. Then it's finally the weekend. And then you can earn a little extra money by moonlighting on a colleague's building site.
Damn, what an absurd thought! How are you going to help out on the building site? By deducting the results of the inventory of bricks from your taxes? Hardly anyone knows as little about DIY as you do.
Your boss burps. Bloody loud. And takes a swig from the bottle of beer in front of him. His white shirt slips out of his trousers over his belly. Your colleague from HR stands up and says that he needs to go to the porta-potty to piss.
Something stinks here… You raise your arm. Yes, that's you. Damn, when was the last time you took a shower? Well, not this week. What's the point? You guys are all real men. Sweat and cum is your body lotion. Hehehe. Your blue button-down shirt disappears into thin air. The air in the portacabin where you take your lunch break is stifling. Sweat, onions, frying fat. A terrible mixture. Brppppppppp! And then there's your fart. Your colleagues laugh roaring. The foreman comes back from taking a piss and puts his hands under your nose. "Should I have washed them, mate?" You reach into his trousers, knead his cock and balls, pull your hand back and smell your hand. "Nah, but you should have your cock sucked again. It cud do with uh clean." The foreman whistles and the bricklayer's apprentice jumps up. Damn it, you wanted to have fun with this young guy behind the barracks after the lunch break.
Time to end the lunch break. You want to be in the car and driving home in two hours. Your husband is already eagerly waiting to suck your cock clean. Have a great weekend, Buddy! In the meantime, I'll think about how we can spice up your everyday life on the construction site even more!
Pic found @stargazerguy
#male tf#muscle tf#reality change#chronivac#male transformation#muscle transformation#inked man#white to blue collar tf#bear tf
158 notes
·
View notes
Note
Good day Factual! Hope you're starting to feel a bit better- colds that just refuse to go away are the worst! Glad you've been having some fun playing and drawing Pokemon in the meantime though- and thanks a million for giving us all that great art of Grimace! Him and Sylvester definitely have a wholesome, brotherly bond, and it would be sweet to see some more of them someday, though as always, draw whatever you wish! In the meantime, as a little side Ask- could you tell us how you met them perhaps? Both in game and in "story"? Did you catch them like usual Pokemon, or did they join willingly?
And as for my main Ask- I thought I'd inquire about two of my favorite lesser known Mario enemies, and their places in your AU- starting with the fire spitting, three horned menaces, the Reznors!
Despite them essentially just being chibified triceratops, I've always liked their designs, their pack mentality, and the goofy noises they make! Sadly, Nintendo hasn't used them for much other than a couple gimmicky mini bosses, but I figure if the Bowser of your AU had a few, he'd put them to much better use! Just spitballing here, but you've come up with some cool ideas of how the Koopas use various other creatures- what if they used tamed Reznors as battle mounts, like how humans have used elephants! Imagine the Koopas armoring them up, loading troops on to their backs, and then charging into battle, bullet bills a-blazing! ( Just my idea- what do you think? )
And then the other enemy I wanted to mention, is the rarely remembered, deadly dino from w 1-1 of Super Mario World- the Rex!
They were powerful, speedy critters with a nasty bite- and while Nintendo rarely makes use of them nowadays, many fans still hold them and their lore implications close to their hearts- due to their uncanny resemblance to Yoshis... Because of this, many have theorized they share a common Ancestor- though others fear that perhaps a form of evil magic was involved- which, I think would be a perfect fit for your AU! Since your Kamek has showcased powerful, corruptive magics in the past- what if he created the Rexs, either by mutating captured Yoshis, or enchanting stolen Yoshi eggs before they hatched!? Either way, id imagine they would be just as large and aggressive as your yoshis- and serve the Koopas well as guard dogs, or perhaps as alternative mounts- being weaker, but more nimble and agile than a Reznor. But what's your take? Would either of these guys make the cut? Or not be included at all- ( which would be fine too, I just wanted to ask, and pitch some ideas! )
(Grimace and Sylvester art in question)
Hey there! Unfortunately I'm going downhill a bit, I think my cold is really startin to take me down. Which is just wonderful 🥲 at least I have Pokemon Scarlet to keep my mind busy!
Speaking of Pokemon, Grimace and Sylvester actually do have a story to them..
Starting with Grimace, I actually kinda got him on accident due to a 3 day long brain fart. Let me explain- <XD
So picture this. It's early in the game and I spot a Duskull. I think "Oh cool! Dusknoir is my favorite pokemon! I gotta catch one so he'll eventually evolve into a Dusknoir! :D" So I catch one and name him Dusty.
I ran around with Dusty, training him, loving him, feeding him sandwiches, the works, for 3 days or so. 3. Real life. Days.
It's only when I'm a about to go to bed and I'm thinking about him that I realized..
Dusty is a Gastly. Not a Duskull. He will eventually turn into a Gengar. Not a Dusknoir.
I still can't figure out how I looked at a Gastly and had my brain go "catch one! It'll turn into a Dusknoir! :DD"
So anyways, I didn't really want a Gengar.. but by the time I had noticed my mistake, I had already gotten attached to the big guy. So I accepted defeat, renamed him Grimace and gave up on my dreams of having a Dusknoir. I'll get a Dusknoir in legends Arceus anyways it's fine- <XD
Now Sylvester...
I knew right when I started the game that I wanted a female Sylveon. That was a big goal of mine. And I knew of a place early on in the game where there was a chance for Eevee to spawn. So I ate a sandwich that increased my normal type spawn rate and hunted for a while.
It was quite the drag since Eevees we're still a rare spawn.. but I was able to find some and catch them all. Though there was one peoblem. Every single Eevee I encountered was male! I wanted a female eevee!
It was a few hours into Eevee hunting that I went and Googled the female to male ratio on Eevees. Females have like a 12% spawn rate... Whoops. Looks like I'm not gonna find a female eevee this early on in the game....
But I still wanted a Sylveon.. 🥺
So I did some thinking. I imagined my trainer as a character. I picture them catching a male Eevee and loving him just the way he is. Saying that he doesn't have to evolve for them. Classic Eevee/trailer relationship. And I imagined the Eevee being so happy with this trainer and loving his team so much, that he evolved into a Sylveon. And he's not ashamed at all! His form is the ultimate expression of his love for his friends and his trainer!
I also pictured tweaking Sylvester's body type to make him apear more masculine. Changing the shape of his bows and ears to look sharper. Making his eyes a bit smaller and making his paws pointier.
Point is, the story I built in my head and all the drawing ideas this gave me... Plus my inability to catch a female eevee.. resulted in me adopting one of the male Eevees and evolving him into a Sylveon XD
Anyways XD as for your Mario questions...
I'm actually unfamiliar with those enemies <:0 though having a little more diversity in the Koopa kingdom would be good.. perhaps I could look into the Reznors a bit more and incorporate them somehow.. like you said, making them battle mounts or something similar..
Now the Rex, what an odd critter.. definitely haven't seen that guy before- :00 he really does look a lot like a Yoshi.. I'd have to look into those guys a bit too before I decided what to do with them.. but I'm liking your ideas! Kamek corrupting Yoshi eggs or something similar to make more mindless drones.. that's something he would do! 😅 But I'd probably takes away the Rex wings.. Yoshis can't fly! ☝️
Aaaanywho, thank you as always for the ask and interest! :}} This distraction came at a very good time 🥹💔
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Little Men’s Toilet Slave Part 2
And with that he turned around and I got to see the most magnificent ass. It was big and round, muscular with a nice layer of fat and hairy as fuck! I’ve never seen an ass so hairy before! This is the type of ass that I ordinarily would have wanted to bury my face deep in and rim for hours but given what I knew was about to happen I wanted to throw up! This was made worse by the fact that when he bent over teasingly, I was assaulted by a smell akin to hot sewage mixed with garlic and there were stains and dingleberries all throughout his filthy forest of a crack. As he backed up to my face he reached back and further spread his cheeks allowing me to see his hole underneath a thick ring of fur and his hole opened and pushed out, releasing a nasty sbd before slamming his hole down on my nose. Fssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh “Ah, I need to get rid of some more gas before I open the flood gates or else I’ll drown our new toilet bitch and then he’ll be no use to anyone! Let me see the footage we’ve shot so far while I relieve myself!” he said rubbing his aching, bloated stomach. He sat there farting away with his filthy hair hole sucking my nose in and constantly dripping a sample of the sludge that was about to fill my mouth into my nostrils. It was getting harder with each fart for him not shit all over me. I could tell, but he wanted to drag this out as long as possible and to be quite frank I was in no hurry to get to the main even myself. Finally after half an hour he slowly stood up and groaned “Open your mouth toilet! It’s time! I really can’t hold it anymore! If I smell or spill any of this I swear to God I’m gonna vomit all over your cute face and i don’t want that so after I make you swallow I’ll let Josh (the hot asf blond guy from earlier) and his boys stomp the fuck out of you! This can go easy or it can be extremely painful! Your choice!” He gently patted my stomach and started to sit back down. I reluctantly opened my mouth and watched in horror as before he was even seated his hole seemed to spasm and out pushed the biggest pile of slop I’ve ever seen! It was soft, lumpy shit, not quite liquid, but definitely nowhere near solid and it stunk like rotten eggs that had been left under the burning sun for days! It quickly filled my mouth and with much effort Kyle managed to pull his hairy hole shut. “Hurry up and swallow that! There’s so much more inside me and I will let it out all over your face if I have to! Don’t chew, just swallow! You can savor my shit another time! I’m in too much pain right now!” I struggled to swallow, my throat burning and closing, gagging and trying not explosively throw up the toxic waste that was in my mouth and nostrils and felt like it was penetrating every part of my being. He slapped my stomach and said “Round 2! Here it comes in 5 seconds and remember what happens if it doesn’t end up in your mouth!” I hurriedly swallowed and opened my mouth right as the next blast came bursting out. This continued for 6 mouthfuls over the course of the next 40 minutes with many wet farts in between each torrent of loose, sludgy shit. Finally he exclaimed “Damn that felt great to let out! I can’t believe how much better I feel! You can’t imagine how much pain I was in! Now lick me clean!” as I sat there and thought to myself, You were in pain? What about me you piece of shit! You narcissistic asshole! What the hell is wrong with you? But I knew better than to say any of that so I just lay there licking his entire crack clean in silence before moving to his disgusting hole. He smiled down at me and affectionately rubbed my very full, very bloated belly. “I think you deserve a reward for being such a good helper! I can’t wait to give it to you later! I think you’ll like it! In the meantime I gotta get back to filming! Anyone else need a bathroom break with the new toilet?” Of course there stood Josh with an evil smirk on his face. Here we go again! (To Be Continued)
112 notes
·
View notes
Text
Batting for the other Team
It’s finally done!! This was a request from @bigbren1979 . I hope you like it my dude!! Please enjoy. I also have some interesting news coming up later today!!! Stay tuned!!
Brett Lawrie was a massive success on the baseball field. People loved seeing this very attractive man swing away, both men and women. Unfortunately for both of them, he was already taken, having a wife and kid. Even worse, Lawrie was a massive homophobe, making fun of and harassing all the gay guys that worked out at the gym. He didn't make it very obvious so he would not get into trouble, but everyone knew he really hated them all.
Sadly for Lawrie, he messed with the wrong guy today.
Andrew was having a beer with his friends in the local bar, when he saw Brett entering, clearly drunk. He sat down with his buds in a booth and immediately shouted for a waitress. When a guy approached the table, Lawrie and his friends immediately started calling him names. “Get us some beers, faggot” he said while spewing in his face. Andrew watched the scene unfold with his fists clenched. That bastard, always pestering the queer folk around town. He was about to get up to say something to the sportsman, when a thought entered his mind. A sly grin spread along his face as he sat back down and enjoyed the rest of his evening.
The following morning
Andrew walked into the gym, looking for his target. He found Brett on the leg extension machine. Andrew moved over to the baseball player and smiled.
“Hey man, You’re Brett Lawrie right? I’m a huge fan, dude! That last game was fantastic! Your swings were top tier!” Lawrie smiled.
“Thanks bro! It was such a great game. I’m glad there are still some actual baseball fans around here, and not just fags.” Andrew bit his tongue and smiled.
“Yeah man, been a fan for ages!” Lawrie beamed as his ego was stroked to high heaven. Andrew rummaged through his bag and took out a workout shaker.
“Hey man, so I wanted to give you this, it's a protein shake I developed myself. Gives you this hugeeee boost. Best workout you've ever had, trust me. And unlike pre-workout, you don't even have to wait!!” Lawrie took the bottle with big eyes and took a swig.
“Bro… this tastes divine!!” he took another sip and, kind of reluctantly, gave back the bottle to Andrew. Andrew saw the remorse in his eyes and smiled.
“You know what man, you can keep that one, I got another one in my locker.” Brett looked up. “Are you sure… you don’t-”
“I insist dude.” Andrew retorted and handed him the bottle.
Brett gazed at it and quickly took another mouthful. He stared up at Andrew and then immediately downed the whole bottle after which he let out a massive belch. “Jezus that was fucking great man. Thanks a lot”
Andrew grinned “No probz bro. Be sure to see me after your workout though. I can hook you up with some more”
Lawrie nodded. “Yeah sure thing bro!” Andrew turned and started to walk towards the weights, starting his own workout.
In the meantime, Lawrie continued with renewed vigor. He had actually been almost done but the shake had given him an energy reset. He was ready to keep going. He continued to workout his legs and ass. His girlfriend loved his massive ass. When Lawrie was headed towards the Squat rack, he felt his stomach rumble. He chuckled. “Oh dear, there come the preworkout gasses. Oh well, people should know I've been here, they'd better be honored to smell me.” He said with a smug look on his face. But the farts and burps never came. Even when squatting down with 50 pounds on each side of the bar, not a single puff of air came out of him.
Instead, his body slowly started to swell up a bit. His lean body started to fill out with some fat and muscle. His rough slender arms started to fill out his shirt. His stomach roared again, this time enlarging his pecs into soft, warm cushions of flesh. Another rumble and he shrank down a few inches, but as he was squatting down at the same time, he didn't even notice. The former 6 foot athlete, was now an adorable 5 '7. With another rumble came another set of changes. His 30 year old face started to lose some years. Patches of aged skin started to smooth out, the few wrinkles he had pulled away, and his beard receded into a soft stubble. His stern face melted away into a soft and cute face with boyish charm. His short hair started to grow out and turned wavy. Lawrie bit his lips as they slowly plumped up, making him look very cute, but also very, very gay. He squatted down once more and the ink on his body started to wash away with all the sweat that ran down his frame. He now had smooth and youthful looking skin. His final squat and his body hair all but disappeared leaving behind a slight dusting of hair along his new juicy pecs. Having some energy left, Lawrie decided to put on some weights and continue the squats. With every squat his ass felt like it was on fire. Each rep made his ass bigger, and more jiggly. His below average rod also started to grow. Not just hard, but longer, and thicker too. His balls grew too, with every rep making them bigger and faster. Lawrie’s ass was getting bigger by the second, almost ripping his shorts. He was also getting smoother, all the hair sucking into his balls and shaft, leaving a perfect smooth member.
He finally put down the bar and stood there, panting and sweating. “Fuck… that was amazing” he thought to himself. He grabbed his towel and headed to the locker room, ready to get some more of that delicious drink. As he opened the door he was met with an alluring smell that he could immediately place; it was the drink. He looked around and saw Andrew sitting on a bench, legs spread apart, with a towel around his waist, covering his manhood.
“Hey bro… I “ Lawrie fell silent. His usual rough voice was gone. Instead, when he talked a youthful, squeaky voice rang through the room.
“Hey man, you're finally done. Took you long enough. But damn you look good!” Lawrie looked down, and saw his clothes didn't fit him the same as they did when he put them on this morning. They were hanging lower on his body, but he filled them out much more.
He looked up in the mirror and screamed. Instead of the handsome, rugged face he knew, a new young, cute, and very queer looking face looked back at him.
“What did you do to me” He asked, in that annoyingly gay sounding voice.
“You just love to make fun of all the gays around here, so I thought, why not make you experience it for a change” he spread apart his legs a bit more, and Lawrie got attacked by a fresh, warm wave of the smell.
“Y-you …. Put something in the drink” Lawrie stammered, feeling a thread of drool run down his chin.
“You look adorable like that, but yeah you're right. You want more right, that’s why you came? Want it from the source?” Andrew threw off the towel and Lawries knees buckled. The smell spread around the locker room, and more drool came spilling out of Lawries mouth. Andrew slowly walked over, his thick dick standing at attention. As he came closer there were no questions needed about what the source was; Lawrie only had eyes for Andrews dick. Andrew stopped just in front of Lawrie, his dick on eye level with the former star player.
“Fuck you’re cute now.” Andrew cooed. He ran his thumb along Lawries soft jaw. “You want a taste, baby?” Lawrie gulped and bit his lip.
“N-no I’m.. “
“Lick it boy” Andrew commanded, and Lawrie immediately complied. He opened his mouth and swallowed the rod. The bear groaned as the boy started to expertly suck him off. Lawries eyes opened wide as the familiar flavor of his drink started to fill his mouth.
“That’s a good boy” these words filled Lawrie with a weird warm and fuzzy feeling. “You wanna make daddy cum, don't you?” Lawrie wanted to spit out the dick and curse out the man in front of him but instead he looked up into the bear's eyes and nodded.
“Very good boy, you're such a cutie. I’m gonna take such good care of you” As Andrew said that he shot a load down Brett Lawries throat. This in turn made the boy cream his own pants, shooting out all the old negative parts of the married baseball player. What was left was Barry, Andrew’s soft boyfriend pup, who was such a massive slut for his Daddy's cock.
“That was amazing daddy… did I do good?”
“You sure did pup… but I’ve got a question… What is your sexuality?”
“Im very gay Drewie. I’m so very gay for your cock… And those of your hot friends…”
Andrew laughed and he pulled his boyfriend up, giving him a warm embrace. “That's my boy. Lets get you cleaned up and home’
Later
It's been a few months since Brett Lawrie has been missing. The gay community of the town didnt really mind though. In his place, they got a new slut with a very cute face. Andrew’s new boyfriend made a very cheap onlyfans, and had plenty of time for visitors. His instagram is full of his dumb, cute face.
Brett doesn’t remember much from his old life, only that it got substantially better when he and Andrew met. He now gets endless attention, money, and dick from him so he doesn't have much to complain about.
#transformation#s2g#straight to gay#himbofication#transformation through drink#age regression#rakurai
738 notes
·
View notes
Text
Vesuvia Weekly: Apprentice and LI Dynamics
Decided to throw my hat in since I came up with so much material in my head about my apprentice, Venere, and then realized I never posted anything, poor girl has been sitting on the bench for so long like “Am I a joke to you?”
@iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia Thank you for coming up with these prompts, I had fun doing this!
(I also mixed a bit of poetry in these hcs because I love it so much. Unfortunately, I suck at it, so don't mind too much of what I call my wordy farts)
VENERE x JULIAN – In a nutshell? The overly flirty, bisexual disaster that we all know meets a very practical and unimpressed girl (also, tall lanky man x small menace). What could go wrong?
A whirlwind. She’s swept away by it. Masks and play, it’s easier that way.
A feverish dance, a push and pull, like sea waves.
Backtracking, pacing, restlessness. The mind never stops and thinks and thinks and thinks. Where do you see value? You should leave but you are under my skin.
Chasing shadows, facing gallows
He can only be a martyr, the guilt takes its toll as the bell tolls
The rope is made of faults and the executioner is called love.
Now there are more hurts, and another love turns into flaming anger.
How can she make him see? Gentleness, understanding, calm. We are in this together. Always.
Julian enters her life like a hurricane and turns it upside down. She is swept off her feet by his energy, but she is also sharp enough to see through him.
They have a rocky start. Julian is kind of intimidated, kind of intrigued, obviously his answer is to double down on the flirting.
Venere is… You guessed it: unimpressed. Don’t be fooled though, she is actually quite charmed, she likes Julian, but she needs her time to feel comfortable around new people. In the meantime, she has one of the biggest resting bitch faces ever.
Most of their early interactions involve Julian aggressively flirting and Venere blushing internally while exteriorly maintaining a deadpan expression.
Julian inevitably starts to question everything; does she find him so ugly? Does she find him annoying? Should he hide in the hole and never come up again? The poor man doesn’t know what to do.
Once they clear the air and Venere feels more comfortable, is when her true character starts to shine. She is passionate and has a fiery temper, which is good most of the time, but also means she tends to react with anger to upsetting situations. Julian is much better and practiced at controlling his anger and is a good counterweight to Venere.
This is also when the table turns and Venere starts shamelessly flirting with Julian. The poor doctor is a blushing mess.
She is ready to give him an earful whenever he is acting foolish, and she is not afraid of calling him out on his bullshit, but she also learns to be very patient with him. She is determined to make him understand that he is loved, and she is always there to remind him of what an incredible, beautiful man he is.
He teases her about her magic jargon, calling it her whimsical gibberish, she teases him for his medical fancy terms and most of all his unreadable writing.
When it comes to their respective work fields, they had to learn to communicate effectively; Julian is more comfortable with tangible and concrete things, while Venere tends to think in more abstract ways. Over time they learned to come together and communicate clearly.
They are actually a very good team. Venere is trying to implement Julian’s extensive knowledge of medicine with her magic, making medicines more effective and trying to come up with spells that can accelerate the healing process.
She is much more introverted than him, so she is always happy to let him handle social situations and let her full glorious resting bitch face shine while he charms his way out.
Their differences in social battery also mean that Venere needs her moments of solitude to recharge. The first few times it happened Julian panicked; was it something he said? After a much-needed conversation, he understands. Now, when she needs time alone, he goes to the Rowdy Raven or stops by to see Portia and Mazelinka.
Venere loves singing and dancing and Julian often accompanies her with his vielle. There's always music in their home.
After a period of travel, they settle down in Vesuvia and adopt a dog. Venere takes over her magic shop and Julian opens his clinic.
Their favourite moment is in the evening when, after a day of work, it’s finally time for a long, relaxing cuddle session. Julian wraps his arms around Venere and gives her one of his all-encompassing hugs and they snuggle on the sofa. They always say they’ll go to bed early but end up falling asleep like this.
RELATIONSHIP WITH OTHER CHARACTERS:
ASRA
Complicated. Abandonment. Hurt. Mistakes. Easier to run, easier to avoid.
She doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know how to explain.
The past is a heavy burden of memories forgotten and others that would have been best to let rest.
Only a half of what once was whole, but what has been broken cannot be repaired, you learn to live with what remains. You learn to live again.
Her relationship with Asra is very complicated.
There were a lot of hurt and misunderstandings. He kept disappearing without explanation and she never understood.
But the truth runs way, way deeper.
After everything is out in the open, they have many conversations.
After clearing up everything they share one of those incredibly rare and deep friendships.
They are family. They will always be there for each other and always root for each other happiness.
NADIA
Loneliness. The princess is trapped at the top of the tower, but the dragon is in her head, the dragon is everywhere around her. Judging eyes, power struggles, impossible expectations, who can you trust? Elegance, perfectionism, strength, intuition. She is many things, but most of all she is Nadia. Most of all, she needs someone to see it.
Nadia is… Well, she is Nadia! She is awesome!
Venere’s first impression was of someone very lonely. Although a bit intimidated, she took a liking to her very quickly.
In time, they cultivate a very profound friendship.
They chat about magic, and Venere always knows who to ask for fashion tips.
Most of all she knows who to turn to when she needs sound advice.
She has deep admiration for Nadia, she doesn’t know how someone can always look so perfect and in control and make appear so easy everything she does. But she is also there to remind Nadia that it’s okay to slip occasionally, and letting go sometimes feels good!
MURIEL
Gentle, coy, reserved. Violent scars on a delicate soul. Does a tree make noise when it falls in the forest? It’s easier to forget but if everyone forgets, were you even ever there? Long silences can become deafening in loneliness. And yet, when you start to listen you realize there is so much more life around you. Small details you usually don’t catch. It’s always in the details.
Muriel and Venere have one of those friendships that don’t require many words. They are content to spend time together, enjoying each other company in a relaxed silence.
When Venere needs some reprieve, she knows she can accompany Muriel on his walks around the forest and she loves being immersed in nature.
Venere adores Inanna, she gives the best belly rubs to the best of girls.
They spend time enjoying the quiet of Muriel’s hut and he allows her to feed the chickens! One of Venere’s favourite activities.
If someone bothers Muriel, despite Venere being much, much smaller than him, she is the one to fly into a rage and put the offender in their place. Has anyone never told them not to provoke a magician?
Venere often comes to visit him and brings him lots of baked goods to taste. She is still learning to cook decently, so not everything comes out exactly as intended. He still eats everything without batting an eye, probably to be polite.
PORTIA
Bubbly energy. Movement, flow, a tidal wave. Hunger for adventure, but she is always left behind. There is worth in the work you do but sometimes the work becomes all you are worth. There is more under the surface, you are allowed to slow down. You always have value.
Portia is Venere’s adopted little sister. She loves her energy and positivity and is always happy to pass the ball when Julian needs a good kick in the shin.
They have a book club now. They take it very seriously and religiously make time each week to sit down together to discuss stories and characters.
To the delight of Julian, Venere teaches her magic. He has a small panic attack when she accidentally sets a tree on fire. Luckily, Portia is an eager student and recovers very quickly without further fiery incidents.
In return, Portia tries to teach Venere to bake, with varying degrees of success. She is trying, okay? Luckily, most of her culinary experiments are still appreciated by Julian, Asra and Muriel.
When Portia feels like going on an adventure, she always knows who to call for.
LUCIO
Cold metal spikes all around. Hurt others before they can hurt him. Mistakes, regrets, there’s much to learn. Pride is always the mask shame wears, covering itself with sparkly meaningless.
Let’s say that she doesn’t take well of Lucio hurting her loved ones. When she discovers what he did to Julian she is furious.
In an alternative universe, she would be more than happy to be his friend. She believes in second chances and respects his willingness to be better.
Lucio ends up relying a lot on her when he makes an “Opsie” and needs someone to help him fix it.
With time, he gets better at handling his mistakes and learns how powerful accountability can be.
She isn’t one for big parties, but the rare times she needs some tips on the subject she can always count on Lucio.
When she needs to let out some steam, she knows he is the guy to go to. He has always a good monster on the list ready to chase, or some other adventure to go, Portia can come too!
#Definitely not my highest writing moment but I had fun and that's the point - no?#vesuvia weekly#MC/LI dynamics#the arcana#the arcana game#julian devorak#ilya devorak#asra alnazar#nadia satrinava#muriel of the kokhuri#portia devorak#lucio morgasson#OC: Venere#the arcana headcanons#my wordy farts#my writing
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Holy shit folks Leto Atredies was not holding it together by the end there. Shortly before the Harkonnens make their move in the novel the Atredies host a dinner for some of their financial accomplices, and the dude gets sloppy. Like we gotta get a petition together to make Oscar Isaac do a script read here.
So dude's stressed. The writing is on the wall that the Harkonnens are gonna blow up his family and rescuing the crew of that spice crawler like we see in the movie has got him on high alert for saboteurs. He starts off the shindig by pissing everyone off and giving away the customary party wash basin away to the poor. The water sellers don't like the precedent he's setting and even the serving lady is upset she's not gonna get the chance to sell second hand dirty water after the fact. There's some real tense back-and-forth because a couple of the guests keep flexing their wealth to show their host what they think of his generosity.
So Leto does what any reasonable person would do and dumps his glass out on the ground and insists everyone in attendance do the same. In one action things have gone from ‘double-layered banter’ to ‘its my party and I can force everyone to commit class warfare if I want to.’ Like I guess the subtext here is these guys are bragging about controlling the water and thus the power on Arrakis and Leto is going ‘control deez nuts,’ but for such a philanthropic dude it sure is the sort of gesture that gets the attention of Madame Guillotine.
So then he dips from the party to go handle some statecraft and leaves Paul to host the dinner. Herbert doesn't say it, but at this point I'm pretty sure the Duke is flipping double middle fingers and making fart sounds with his mouth while making the most aggressive sort of eye contact with the bankers. These are the actions of man who is verbally insisting how not drunk he is. The point of the scene is that shit is getting bad in the Atredies household because of all the paranoia, but like imagine actual people going through these motions. Everybody's sitting awkwardly in this communal shame-puddle and then the guy who made everyone do it is like ‘Welp, that's it for me. Everybody, my fifteen year old son is king of the planet in the meantime.’ Film it. We're a couple movies in, but Dennis Villenueve if you're reading this, you and I both know what has to be done.
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Day 6- Music is my Life
@texas-chainsaw-fanworks
A short, mostly silly fic taking place just before TCM2. Word count just shy of 2000, slight warning for sickness/ death in the beginning/middle, and general Sawyer -isms, but this one is ultimately pretty lighthearted.
Turn It Up
1986 was a good year for heavy metal. A good year for music in general really. Especially since he and Bubba found that groovy new rock n’ roll station on the radio- he and Bubba tuned in every night- and during the day when big brother wasn’t around- to listen to what Miss Stretch was playing for them. So, yeah, Chop Top was a little distracted.
But he didn’t think he was that distracted. He didn’t even notice it when it first started. Yeah, Cook was moving a bit slow and not hitting them as hard as he usually did, but Chop Top chalked that up to him being an old fart and moved on. The cough came pretty soon after, but Cook just said it was ‘cause Nubbins was stinkin’ up the place, and Chop Top gave him a bath and moved on. He really didn’t notice anything was wrong for real until one day Cook just didn’t get out of bed. And even then, admittedly, it was Bubba who actually went to check on him. Bubba came back bludderin’ and cryin’, and Chop Top figured he woke their old crotchety brother from a nap and got broomed for his troubles.
“What’s wrong, Bubba? He hit ya?” Chop Top started impersonating Cook, trying to make his little brother feel a little better, “I told ya and I told ya! Don’t you boys come an’ wake me up from my old man nap!” Bubba shook his head, hard, and Chop Top paused. “What, he comin’? '' He looked around the corner, but Cook was nowhere to be seen. Bubba pulled on his sleeve, and Chop Top went with him, right up to the little dead end tunnel Cook had put the old steel sliding door up in front of and claimed as his room. Bubba pointed at the door a few times, and Chop Top got the message. He lifted the door carefully, and slipped in. Cook was laying on his back, real still, and real quiet. Oh fuck, he’s dead. Was the first thought Chop Top had. The second was about trying to refurbish this place into ‘Namland, now that he was going to have to be the one in charge, but then Cook coughed so hard he woke himself up, and Chop Top relaxed. Chop Top moved closer, a little cautious. Drayton was pale, about the same color Chop Top himself was, which wasn’t ideal. There was a tinge of red to his lips, though not in a good way. Chop Top hoped he had just had breakfast in bed. “Hey, bro!” Drayton jolted and Chop Top expected a big reaction, a whole ‘Christ! What the hell are you doin’ here, you nitwit! Don’t you know better than to enter another man’s room like that!? I know you was raised better than that, I raised you!’. What he got was:
“Oh, fuck off, Bobby.” In a weak raspy voice.
“You really don't feel good, huh?” Cook barely responded, glaring up at him from his mattress on the floor, but not moving around much. Chop Top moved a little closer. The red on his lips was blood for sure. “You let Bubba do your makeup?”
“No,” he said flatly. “Been coughin’ hard. I'll… I'll be up soon, you boys just don't do nothin’ stupid in the meantime.”
He wasn't up soon. And Chop Top and Bubba probably did a lot he would qualify as stupid in the meantime. Bubba was stressed and getting stresseder as the days went on. Cook got better, then he got worse, then he was okay again. Bubba tried to nursemaid him, and that just made him more mad. Chop Top didn't bother foolin’ around like that. If Cook wanted something, he'd ask for it. The old man never had a problem bitchin’ before. He stayed out of it, doing his own thing, hangin’ out with Nubbins, writing new lyrics for the band he'd make some day. Stuff like that. Until, once again, Bubba dragged him into it.
Cook wouldn't wake up. He wasn't dead, that was for sure, but he'd gone to sleep in the middle of the day before, and now he just wouldn't get up. Bubba showed Chop Top all the ways he tried waking him, talking to him, and tapping on him, and shaking that old man like a ragdoll. But none of it helped. He was breathing, for sure, but he wasn't doing much more than that.
Chop Top didn't know what to do. Not even in the slightest. There were a lot of words for what could be happening, but none of ‘em were good, and all of ‘em would just make Bubba bug out more. If it was any of the things he thought it might be, they had two options. Take him to the hospital, or wait. Bubba couldn’t take Cook to the hospital since he wouldn’t take off his mask, and Chop Top couldn’t because Nubbins couldn’t come in. Chop Top didn't wanna leave Nubbins behind. Nubbins hated that. He had gotten real clingy since Bobby had to go away. Especially after that time he spent in his wooden bed. Chop Top had to dig him up and crawl in there with him. He still wasn't sure why Cook had done that. Momma had a wooden bed. Grandma made sure of that. But when Grandma had gotten all stiff-like, Grandpa refused to let her be put away like that. It was too cold he said- too cold down there in the ground. So Grandma stayed in the attic. Chop Top was surprised Grandpa even let Drayton put Nubbins down like that. Or why Drayton would want to. Cook was always the one bitchin’ about keepin’ Nubbins lookin’ nice- Be careful with him, boy, I don’t wanna have to stitch his head back on, and Now don’t take him out raisin’ hell, you’re just gonna get him tore up. And those worms had not been kind to Nubs, no siree. The poor guy just couldn’t handle being alone anymore. And Chop Top didn’t blame him.
So their only option was to wait it out.
Chop Top was okay with that. Cook either got better or he didn’t. And if he didn’t, if Drayton died. Well… Then he just wouldn’t. He wasn’t going anywhere, whether or not he died. That comforted Chop Top. But it did not comfort Bubba. The moment Chop Top said the die word he started panicking again, blubbering and pacing and whining. Chop Top tried to calm him down, really really hard, but it was not working well. He got Bubba to sit, but he was still fidgeting, still visibly upset. So Chop Top did the only thing he really could. He got the radio, and he got Nubbins, and he brought them to the kitchen to help cheer up Bubba.
“Hey, bro! What’s wrong?” Chop Top asked in his ‘Nubbins’ voice, positioning Nubbins’ head so he could look at him. Bubba looked up at Nubbins, with a pout still on his face. “Well uh, y-you know what I think, Nubs?” Chop Top asked, turning Nubbins’ head. “I think, it’s time for a little music!” He put the radio down, presenting it. “Yeah! Uh- yeah, what- what do you think about that, Bubba?” He turned it on, and turned the volume up, just loud enough that he was confident Bubba couldn’t hear Cook having another coughing fit in his sleep. “Let’s see what Miss Stretch is playin’ for us tonight!” They caught the end of Brain Damage by Pink Floyd. It was a good song- sure- but it didn’t have the energy they needed- it wasn’t the right feeling- it wasn’t right for dancing and jumping and shaking out the worry that naturally came with the whole “older brother’s dying of pneumonia or something” situation. C’mon Miss Stretch, don’t let us down now.
“Can’t go wrong with the classics,” Miss Stretch said. Bubba nodded, and Chop Top grinned. He always responded to Miss Stretch on the radio. Chop Top figured she was Bubba’s fave too. “-But for our last song of the night, we’re playin’ somethin’ hot and new.” Chop Top recognized it in the first few beats. That’s why you’re my fave!
“It’s our song, Bubba, it’s our song!” Chop Top hollered. He set Nubbins down, and pulled Bubba to his feet, bouncing with him. No One Lives Forever, Oingo Boingo. Perfect, perfect, perfect! Bubba started to bounce along too. Bubba wasn’t much of a lyrics man, but Chop Top already knew every word to this song. Chop Top started to sing along, “You worry too much, y-you make yourself sad, you can’t change fate, but d-don’t feel so bad! Enjoy it while you can, heh, it’s just like the weather! So quit complain’ Bubba! No one lives forever!” It was working fantastically. Bubba was bouncing up and down to the beat, trying his best to belt out the lyrics too. The two brothers didn’t exactly dance, but more so hopped around in a circle, holding hands and wiggling back and forth mostly in time with the beat. It was good. It felt good. Chop Top did his best to ignore exactly how poignant the lyrics were. It didn’t matter. It was going to be okay. Dead or alive, Cook would be okay. Chop Top danced harder and faster, trying to shake it all out like a wet dog, singing louder and louder, trying to just feel it. He and Bubba were out of sync for most of the song- Bubba not exactly being a words guy- until the howl. For one brief, glorious moment, the voices of Chop Top, Bubba, and Mr. Boingo himself aligned, and Chop Top felt good. Then the radio cut out. He turned, confused and a little angry and a lot embarrassed at how exactly his singing had sounded without the music- but then-
“What the fuck are you boys doin’? Makin’ all that Goddamn racket- how’s a man supposed to sleep around here? Are you idiots tryin’ ta kill me? Is that what this is? You sound like a pack of coyotes gettin’ flattened by an eighteen wheeler!” Bubba promptly flattened Drayton, squishing him to his chest like he was gonna blow away. Cook was still stuffy, and a bit pale, but he looked a whole lot better. If Nubbins could, he would say somethin’ about the power of music, and then tell Cook he needed more beauty sleep ‘cause he was still ugly, and then Cook would smack him upside the head. Chop Top just smiled, and moved to get the radio out of the way. He looked back at his brothers. Cook was trying to writhe out of Bubba’s arms like a ferret stuck in a Pringles can, and Bubba was babbling and trying to pet his hair like a dolly. Everything turned out okay.
“Thanks, Miss Stretch,” he said softly.
9 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello Support? i want to report my chronivac freezing up
I was getting annoyed at my body always smelling clean and bland even after a hard worout at the gym, no pheromones, no sexy stank no nothing, so i installed this to ramp up my body hair and musk, drive the guys crazy
i pressed on the button, nothing happned, i pressed 15 more, still nothing, then out of frustration i just kept spamming "Musk and hair UP""until it looked like it was stuck contantly pressing.
It's been hours now and no changes, what's going on? is it like a delay setting or smth?
You're not the brightest candle on the cake either, are you? You have set the "Process changes overnight" setting. And now there are about 126 captured changes waiting to be processed overnight. I'd like to delete some of the requests, but your account's memory is actually blocked by the high number of requests. All you can do is lie down in bed and wait to see what happens.
Shortly after you get into bed, your dog curls up at the foot of your bed as usual. In the middle of the night, he suddenly howls and leaves your bedroom as if stung by a tarantula. Fuck, it's 4:00 a.m., what did the little rascal dream about again? Phew! Probably less dreamed, rather massively farted! You hold your nose. While doing so, you lift your arm slightly. And despite holding your nose, you notice that the smell is obviously not coming from the foot of the bed. But from your body. Fuck, you stink like a skunk farm. As if you hadn't showered in a year. As if you showered with manure. Mate, I understand your intention, but I think you meant too well.
One shower and one use of your long hair clippers later, your dog dares to come out of his corner again. And you look like a homo sapiens again and not like a caveman. In the meantime it is 06:00 o'clock. The gym is open again. So you try out how the transformation works.
Freshly shaved three hours ago, you already have a five-day beard again. Beads of sweat glisten in the hair on your chest and your six-pack. And fuck, you smell like the locker room of a Midwestern college football team. I think everything should be to your liking now. And to mine.
128 notes
·
View notes
Note
anon to save my dignity but i am literally coconuts over your silly ink demon guy can you draw him farting as obnoxiously as he can manage i am on my knees
IM SO GLAD TO HEAR, you unfortunately caught me in a Massive Art Lag (I'm hoping it ends soon but we can only pray) but in the meantime check out this related commission I got of him 💗💛💙
Credit to @/SunnySideButts on twitter
22 notes
·
View notes
Note
[inbox call] The Living World had plenty to offer in terms of entertainment, but Jewel wants to test those limits. She honks the car horn outside of where Momo's staying. "Get the fuck up!" Her Hollow brother sinks in his seat as she persists. "ROAD{HONK}TRIP.{HONK}"
Momo throws open her window and shouts, "What the fuck, Jewel, it's seven in the morning! The sun is still rising!"
She groans and shuts her yukata over her cleavage. It isn't a nice car, but Momo can see snakes and booze. She sighs. "Let me shower and I'll be right out," she replies. "Lay off the goddamn horn in the meantime. You sound like an oni ripping a massive fucking fart!"
2 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
lifelongboyscout
rory🖇
mixingwithmanny
Mannyxologist
star-scribbles
star :]
lndianmoon-blog
Lovers Love, Liars Lie
thepigtailconnection
The Pigtail Connection