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#like i said these are some of my goddamn rocks right now
trashbaget · 11 months
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hey bitches 💖
🎼 it’s music monday 🎶
💫oof it’s been a while 😬 but happy fucking monday!!! monday’s my favorite day of the week if you didn’t know by the way! here are some tunes that have been my fucking rocks lately☺️🌱
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bachibabe · 6 months
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— 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫 ♡
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synopsis: oh no! what is a cursed spirit supposed to do when he gains interest in a mortal girl? probably not make sex dolls of her, kidnap her, then fuck her until she breaks. but no one told him that!
𖦹₊┆ mahito x fem! reader
𖦹₊┆ wc: 4.5k
𖦹₊┆ warnings: noncon, dubcon, kidnapping, sex doll, cruel and unusual punishment, mindbreak, fear play, blood, biting, marking, minimal prep, cervix bruising, dehumanization (?), creampie, mahito is gross, referring to the sex doll as if it was a real person
𖦹₊┆ notes: the fic ive been writing on and off for a month… she is my baby… i have birthed her. please please please read the warnings and enjoy <33 kms if this doesn’t show up in tags
18+ → minors / blank blogs dni
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Creak.
Footsteps. Footsteps right in front of you. Right in front of your safe haven.
Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please keep walking. Please. If there’s any god out there please make him keep walking.
Bang.
His fist hits the desk right above your head. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Why the fuck did you even hide? It was dumb. So dumb. You can’t get away. Maybe if you ran, kept running forever you could get away. But you can't. Not anymore. It’s too late for any of that.
“There you are, pretty doll.” His sick smile is all you see as he leans down, coming into view. He’s crazy. He’s fucking crazy. You know that. You do.
You knew from the moment he knocked on your door in the middle of the night. Practically buzzing as he rocked on his heels. His speech was slurred, manic. He’s never spoken like that before. So. . . so crazy.
You tried to be polite, you really did. You tried to make small talk, to politely excuse yourself even though your hands were shaking.
You tried to close the door on him but it just wouldn’t shut as he kept rambling. His foot shoved in the way, preventing your escape. His dirty fucking sneakers– god even now you remember them so clearly. You remember so many things you wish you didn’t.
How he fucking smiled when you looked back up at him.
It makes your stomach churn to think about it now.
You remember clearly how he grabbed you. He forced his way inside, slowly backing you against the wall. You remember how he grabbed your wrists, talked about how tiny they were in his hands. Showed you only a moment of warmth before harshly biting into the skin, red rising to the surface, coating his tongue. A sound of pain was retched from your throat, trying to pull away while his grip only got tighter. His hips forced you into the wall, trapping you. Keeping you as prey.
He said you taste delicious.
It fucking echos in your head. Makes you go insane with how it repeats over and over again. Exactly how he said the words. The lilt in his tone, the smile that made him look like he just saw the face of god. How excited he sounded at the first taste of blood.
The way you could tell that he craved more.
Craved everything you had to give.
You didn’t think demons were real before that night. Ghosts, angels– anything that goes bump in the night was just a figment of one's imagination. Maybe hallucinations. But this, this was real. How you wish this was all just some stupid hallucination.
Nothing is paranormal before you face the devil himself.
Nothing is more terrifying than when the devil wants you.
You learned that that night.
He dragged you next door, throwing you to the ground. He looked like a shadow, only a silhouette as he stood in the doorway. The moon casting a glow from behind him. You couldn't see his face, none of it was legible as you scrambled backwards. Trying, trying so desperately to put some space between yourself and the beast.
His shoulders heaved as he panted. Like a fucking monser that just got his kill.
He had.
He closed the doors. Locked them with what felt like a million keys. He started fucking giggling. Giggling like a goddamn lunatic as his demeanor changed completely. He was smiling like an innocent little kid. He was happy. The happiest you had ever seen a person before.
“Ahhh~” He sighed, glee laced in his all too cheery tone. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Speaking, churning in your ears so it's all you can hear. It mocks you. Mocks your very being. Mocks you for trying to live a normal life away from him.
You remember how he clung to you that night as you sobbed. Whining about how you shouldnt be sad, that you were home now. He’d coo, playing with your hair as he tried to ‘soothe’ your trembling body. His arms wrapped around you in a vice. It felt like he was choking the air out of your lungs.
Maybe he was trying, maybe he wanted you dead. You really had no clue. You just wanted to get away– be as far away from him as you could. You’d do anything, you told him as much. Change your name, leave the country. You promised you wouldn’t tell anybody! You would tell him anything if it meant you could leave.
But he kept you in place. Tucked in his arms. His entire body wrapped around yours, keeping you close. Keeping his face nuzzled into your neck. Smelling you. Smelling your fear.
He loves that smell.
If you let him he would breathe it in all the time, treating it as the very thing that keeps him alive. Well, until you die anyway. But he knows that won't be anytime soon! You’re strong. You're tenacious. He knows you are. You’ve dealt with so much in your life, you can deal with him too. He just knows it.
He wonders what all of your other emotions smell like.
Hmm.. What about love? That would be an interesting smell. Maybe it would be sweet like honey? Maybe bitter like chocolate… Humans are so interesting. They're so fun.
You are especially. And he knows you’ll like him too. He’s sure of it as you finally tire yourself out, falling asleep on his beat up mattress. Mmhmm crying for hours must really hurt your soul. Poor thing. He would fix it. Fix you up all nice and pretty. Yeah, he knows just how to. His pretty experiment.
Well, he thinks that’s all you are. A nice human experiment for him to play with. To learn everything about. Learn what makes them tick, what makes them laugh, what makes them cry. Kenjaku told him as much. He could keep a little human as a pet, dispose of them when necessary. But… he doesn’t want to let you go! Just the thought makes him want to cry!
You are already better than he ever imagined!
Bang.
The chair blocking your body is thrown back, assaulting the wall with a deafening crash. Your hands come up, covering your ears. Shit Shit Shit! Fuck, what are you going to do, what are you going to do?! Your body forces itself as far as it can into the corner of the desk. All you can hear, all you can think about is the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears.
Why are you so dumb?! You knew you couldn’t win! You never win any of his games!
He squats in front of you, blocking your only means of escape. You hear him, watch him inhale deep before letting out a sick laugh. One that makes you want to cry. One that makes you feel like trying to run– trying to hide is useless. Maybe it is. You don’t see how you could possibly get away.
The pictures covering his walls tell you everything you need to know.
“Found you.” He smiles, crawling towards your body, crawling towards your last bit of safety. He looks like a monster– he is a monster. He can’t be human. He can’t. You refuse to believe it. Your legs kick, they try to get away. They try to be your last line of defense but his face only shows that of an owner looking at a puppy having a fit. He looks so fond of you.
You want to scream.
He grabs your ankle. It hurts. Everything hurts. You should’ve become numb at this point, you wish you had. You feel your body slip out from under the desk, dragged against the hard floor. Pick you up with ease, lay you down in his bed. His gross disgusting bed.
He pouts. He fucking pouts at you. Sits in front of you.
“Don't tell me you’re jealous.” His frowns, tilting his head at you. “I didn't mean to make you! I swear! I just wanted to show you. How much I love you…how good I could make my pretty doll feel.” You could never be jealous. Not of anything involving him.
Especially not involving the putrid fucking sex doll that lays next to you in bed.
How he fucked it last night, making you watch. Made you hold his hand while he thrust into the thing. Made you cup his face as he came inside.
“How I’ve been practicing just for you.” He coos, a smile gracing his lips as he moves to his knees, crawling towards you in the bed. “Humans are hard to understand…And I really just can’t wait for you any longer.”
You don’t hear his words. Your eyes fixated on the doll that looks just like you. Every freckle the same, every mole. Every fucking tiny detail mirrored yours in a lifeless, hollow core made of silicon. Filled up with his cum. You don’t want to think about how many times he’s fucked it. How many times he’s pretended having sex with you while holding it close. How much he had to have spent to get such a thing.
How deep whatever he feels for you runs.
You swear it probably coats his veins. Running under every inch of this skin. Giving it color. Giving it life. It's all you’re able to think about when he leaves you alone in the apartments. It’s hard for you to swallow. To believe for yourself. You wish it is a lie.
You let him get close. You let him into your bubble for only a second. You allow his face into your neck. Biting your skin, drawing blood once again. He loves the taste. You think he's probably obsessed with it. You wanted to recoil away, disgusted with how he hums, lapping at the skin. But you don’t. You need to let him have this. Even if it's just for a second.
You close your eyes tight. You feel him relax. He thinks you’re giving in. You know he does. You can do this. You can do this. You may have only made this decision a moment ago as you stared at the doll, but you had to do this. You had to do it for yourself. It may be the last chance you get. You can’t stop fighting.
You can do this. You can do this.
The mantra chants over and over again in your head like a prayer. You feel his hand reach up, covering your clothed breast with his palm. Massaging it carelessly, without any thought or respect for you. In his head you’re probably the same as that fucking sex doll.
Your knee shoots up. Right into his crotch. Right where it hurts the most. Your hands shove him with all the strength in your body, getting him off of you. Getting him away for only a moment while he recovers. Maybe. Maybe you can make it out of the door. Or maybe you can make it to the bathroom and lock yourself inside. Maybe you have a chance. Just maybe.
Your body scrambles off of the bed, moving faster than you ever thought was possible. You race towards the door, arm reaching out for the handle. You’re so close. You’re almost there. You’re almost able to get away.
Freedom is within your grasp, it's so close you can taste it. He forgot to lock the door, you know he did. You didn't hear any of them click back in place when he came inside. He was too caught up in the moment with trying to find you. If you make it there then maybe, just maybe you can get outside. Run as fast and as far away as you can. Call the police and escape from him. Spread the wings he’s tried to clip.
You land flat on your face.
Not even your arms are able to cushion your fall.
A stitched hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you, dragging you again. Backwards. Back into the cage. Back to him. His chest heaves. His shoulders hunch. He looks disheveled. Crazed.
He has that fucking smile plastered on his face.
“I love it when you run. It's so pretty.” He giggles, “You know me so well.”
You kick at him, thrash your body as he pulls you closer and closer. “Get the fuck away from me!” You yell, though it falls on deaf ears. All the strength in your body is being used to get away. To try and escape from him. He can’t be human. He’s too strong. Even with your struggle he still lifts you easily, like you’re just some fucking little kid having a temper tantrem.
“I’ve been so patient…” He sighs, placing– rather, forcing you onto the edge of the bed. Your knees on the floor as your torso is pressed against the mattress. Your arms pinned behind your back with one of his hands. Your hips pinned in place with his own. You can feel his cock against you. He’s hard. “I really am patient, you know?”
He hums, gently rocking his hips against you. His entire length pressed against your cunt. Taunting you. Words are not needed for you to know what’s to come. “It’s really too bad you know? I’ve run out.”
The simple statement makes your blood run cold.
“I’ve been so gentle…so caring…” He purrs, forcing his sweatpants down his legs. Just enough for his cock to spring free. Just enough for him to be able to stroke himself. For him to press the fat head where he wants– no, no. Needs to be. “I’ve really been trying my best to be good for you.”
You wish you could see. You wish you could see everything– exactly what he is doing. What he is planning to do to your wrecked frame. If, if everything wasn’t such a surprise then maybe… maybe you could make it a little better. But like this… you’re helpless. You’re trapped. You hate it. You can’t stand it. You wish you still had more tears left to cry. But you know it’s over. You can’t do anything now.
Exactly how he wants it– wants you.
You feel him stop moving, an excited gasp resonating from his throat. His entire presence changes in a flash, giddiness taking him over as the cogs in his brain turn. Making his own story, his own reality changing all over again. “Unless, you don't want me to be good for you? You want me to take what I want? That’s why you’ve been trying to run and hide?”
His frame towers over yours, his full weight pressing against your back forcing you deeper into the bed as he mumbles into your ear. “All you had to do was say so~ ♡”
All you can do is whimper in response. Whimper like a wounded animal that's been forced to accept their fate. Your head is blank, devoid of all thoughts and feelings. There is nothing. Nothing you can do.
Maybe he’s right.
Maybe a small part of you does like it. Who knows. You certainly don’t.
He blows gently on your ear, teasing you before he leans back. Your bottoms are forced down, exposing your cunt to the entire room. You can feel him practically buzzing with excitement. With some sick pleasure found deep within his gut.
“So pretty!” He whines, spreading your cheeks to get a full view of your pretty little cunt. You hate that you’re already wet. You hate that the feeling of his cock did it to you just moments before. You hate that he can see it. You hate the way pride bubbles up in his gut. The way you can hear him lick his lips like a starved man.
Hate what the other little voice is saying inside of your head. Hate that even maybe a little bit of your soul wants to feel him. The quiet fucked up voice that you always try to scilence.
“Mm… I wanna taste you so bad but… I really can’t wait anymore… what am I supposed to do!!” You can practically hear the pout plastered on his lips. “Ah~”
The fat head of his cock finds its way back to your cunt, dragging itself up and down your lips. Milking every last bit of wetness out of your hole. Your nails dig into your own hands— maybe his. It’s hard to tell where you stop and he begins. When he’s this close it’s hard to tell much of anything.
“We have forever together don’t we?” He chuckles, his head stopping at your unprepped little hole. Attempting to push into it with just enough pressure to have you squirm. Have you bite down on the sheet to silence any sounds that might try to come through. “We can try out all sorts of fun things together~”
His thumb aids as he tries to push the head of his cock inside. Prodding, trying to force his way inside without a care in the world for how it might hurt. How it might feel for you. He’s too big— you’re, you’re too tight. You can’t take it! It won’t fit you just, just!
“Mmmm!!” A muffled cry breaks free from your throat as the head of his cock buries itself in your cunt. Your ears ring, pain taking over your senses as he lets out a mouth watering, near pornographic moan from above you.
His grip on your wrists tighten, eyes staring at where he’s fucked himself into you. Wow~ it’s so pretty. He never expected a human to feel this good! It’s incredible! Magnificent! And this is just the first inch of him? Oh my… he can only imagine what bottoming out with feel like— how it will feel when his cock is pressed against your cervi—
Wait wait!! He’s getting ahead of himself again. A gasp leaves his throat as he pulls out, a muffled whine leaving your own. Your hole clenches around nothing. What a cute little thing! It’s calling him back in!! He knew you wanted this, he knows all about you huh?
He drags his cock back and forth through your lips again, red mixing in with the pretty white. He dips his cock head over and over again into your entrance, thrusting himself deeper and deeper every time. Stretching you just perfectly around his length.
Hmm, humans like prep right? He figures that this is close enough. His doll doesn’t need it. She just takes him right away— someday you’ll be the same! He just needs to break you in! But until then, he needs to savor this… who knows when you might come around again?
Mmm… you’re too mean to him. Yeah, that’s all it is.
Ah, it’s too bad he’s too lost to notice you’re already falling apart. Your back is arching on its own. Working without permission to give him a better angle. Your hips bucking, leaning back ever so slightly as he presses into your cunt. Urging him just a little deeper. Your pussy is too wet to think about anything, your head in a daze as he teases you, taunts you relentlessly.
You don’t want this— at least you think you don’t. But, it’s so hard to know what you really want when you’re head gets like this. When it’s actually feeling good. When the pleasure mixes with pain to concoct something dangerous. Something that makes you unsure of anything really. Maybe you’re dumb, maybe you’re stupid. Yeah. You probably are. But that’s okay. He likes that.
He likes you.
He slides his cock inside of your hole, his hand moving to your ass as thrusts his hips. Forcing his cock deeper and deeper with each stroke. Your walls clenching around every inch that pushes its way inside. God, you’ve never felt so full. You’ve never felt anything like this. Anything like his cock, anything like him.
Whimpers, whines, all sorts of sounds escape your throat as you let him do what he pleases. Give into whatever twisted pleasure is being given to you. It’s hard to stop them when he’s even louder— panting like a fucking dog as he feels you. Feels every inch of you. Makes you two become one.
He fucks into you so hard it hurts. So hard that your entire body is being pushed into the bed, spine curving up to meet him with every demonic thrust of his hips. Every time the skin of his thighs meets your ass, every time the head of his cock meets with your cervix, pain racks through your body. You can’t take it. You feel like you’re going crazy. You feel like you’re the insane one.
The sound of skin against skin penetrating the sound of your ears like some sort of sick, twisted song. A song he plays so well. One you don’t want him to stop. No matter how much it hurts, how it stings you, you just can’t find it in yourself to push him away. His moans feel like a siren’s voice, luring you closer and closer, pushing you so close to the edge.
“Why’s she so mean!” He whines, his thrusts frantic and hurried. Only caring for his own pleasure, only caring about him. “Won’t let me in any deeper doll! Can you believe that?” He groans, pressing his cock so hard against your cervix you nearly scream in pain. Your body thrashes, trying to get away from the sensation.
He shushes you quietly, leaning his torso against your back as he coos. “Shh… shh… it’s okay… we won’t try that today okay? Must be too much for you… poor thing.” His hips relent, slowly rocking into your battered cunt to give you a little bit of a break. To rest before the main event.
You want to cringe at how wet you sound, how messy you’ve become due to his cock and his cock alone. How greedily your pussy takes him, urging him back with every thrust. Wanting it. Wanting him.
You see his arm reach past your head, grabbing onto your mimics hair. Pulling the doll closer. Holding its head so it’s staring right into your eyes. It’s so lifeless. So hollow.
“It’s okay.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Someday you’ll take me just like she can, yeah? You’ll be sooo~ good for me.” His hips start to pick up their pace again, thighs slapping against your ass so hard you might see stars. So hard you actually want to listen to him.
“I had to break her in too, real good.” He pants out, loosing himself in the feeling of your tight, warm walls.
You flinch away. You can’t look at it anymore. Can’t look at a face that is exactly your own yet so cold and distant. So lost. Used for months on end. Maybe a little sense comes back to you, a small part of reality seeping back into your skull.
He tsks. Fucking tsks and shakes his head in disappointment. “That won’t do… I need my girls to like each other…” He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at the thing. The creature with your hair and eyes.
“Kiss it.” His voice changes in a second, morphing into something commanding. Something scary. Fuck reality. Living in whatever dream you’ve created for yourself is better. Better than facing this. You don’t want to disobey. You want to listen, want him to let you cum. Maybe want his praise, even if it’s just a little.
Your lips meet with the cold, lifeless silicon. Tasting whatever disgusting leftover cum can be found on its lips. He pushes the head against your lips, forcing you to lick your tongue inside. “Adorable!!”
He likes it. He likes it too much. You can tell.
Tell by the way his hips pick up speed, forcing your used hole to take him over and over again. Forcing you to accept him into your body. Forcing you to fall for his cock. Make sure no one else will ever be able to use it. Use you like the way he wants to.
Can tell by the way his cock twitches, his thrusts becoming sloppy. His pace completely out the window as he searches for nothing but his own release.
Maybe you like it too. Like the way his cum tastes. Like the way he took this, took all of you for himself. All of you flesh as his. The coil tightens in your stomach, white specks start to form behind your eyelids. You’re close, too fucking close you just can’t take it anymore.
A loud moan leaves your lips, muffled by the silicon held against your mouth. Waves of pleasure crashing through your frame like a tidal wave of ecstasy as white paints the inside of your walls. Ears ringing, vision gone white as endorphins fill your brain making you forget— forget everything about this moment. How fucked up it is. How you want more.
Your walls clamp around his cock as it jerks in your cunt, milking every last drop of cum from him. Filling you up until you’re full. Until you can’t think anymore. Until you’re so tired you just want to collapse.
He drops the doll letting you pull your head back to finally be able to breathe again fully. Your frame slumps against the bed. Tired. Drained of everything it has to give.
He slowly pulls out of your abused little hole, watching the way it flutters around nothing. Watching the white mixed with red slowly drip out of it onto the rug. “Humans are such incredible little things…”
He smiles, shallowly dipping a finger inside your hole before popping it in his mouth. Just a little taste. “You did so good doll…” He pets your hair, gives you some sort of comfort after everything he’s done. It’s the least you deserve.
He moves your body into the bed with ease, pulling a blanket over your shaking form. A nap would be good right now. It’s always good to give humans at least one nap a day! Mhmm… and you seem like you could use one.
He moves behind you, wrapping an arm around your body from behind. Pulling you close to his chest. Making no mind to fix your clothes. This is good. This is right. It’s how it’s always supposed to have been!! Ah, and now he has all the time to make you understand that too. He’s so lucky. So lucky to have found such a good human.
“Night night dolly…” He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair gently. Coaxing you to sleep. “Let’s have a great day tomorrow too, yeah?”
Right. Cause this is forever. ♡
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emptyjunior · 1 month
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It looks like with the movies taking off, everyone is on the Dune train now!! Which is very exciting, I’m glad a bunch of new people are discovering this media and reading the books, but can I recommend you the David Lynch, Dune (1984) movie.
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First of all, if you are invested in the lore of the books and the deeper messaging of the story, you’re going to need to turn that part of your brain Off. If you love kick ass shit and are willing to be slightly tipsy while you watch and have a great goddamn afternoon, this is the flick for you.
Now first fun fact I’m going to share with you. David Lynch (twin peaks, eraserhead director, celebrated surrealist) turned down the opportunity to direct Return of the Jedi for this film. A film that was devastatingly slow to make, changed hands multiple times, had a pricy VFX budget of $40 million and then made barely $31 million, David Lynch turned down Star Wars to work on it. And he did this when he had never read the novel, and did not even like or engage with sci fi media. THAT’S how you know we’re really in for something.
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Now this film has some big names in it! We’ve got a young Kyle MacLachlan who is rocking some Devastating outfits:
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We’ve got Sir Patrick Stewert as our Gurney and Sting, lead singer of the police, playing the 15 year old Feyd Rautha! If you wanted to see a grown man, sprayed orange, basically naked playing a free wheeling maniac you are in for a treat! And another fun fact, David Lynch also did not know who these actors were, he made a mistake and thought Patrick Stewert was someone else and when Sting said he was in the police he assumed he was in an organization of lawmen.
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Now these characters are familiar to you, but let me get into the unfamiliar. Lynch made some directorial executive decisions throughout this film, for I suppose the ease of the viewer? I mean an adaptation is supposed to adapt so he went let me change some stuff up👏👏👏.
Those who paid attention to Jessica’s backstory may know about the Weirding Way. This is a martial arts style created by the Bene Gesserit, and practiced by Paul. It is more than just a fighting style but also an important philosophical concept, like Aikido or how Kung Fu has foundations in Buddhism.
You may also be familiar with the quote “My name is a killing word.” This inner monologue of Paul’s refers to how his title Muad’dub will be used to spur a holy war. A simple name is what people will die and bleed for, it will be what they scream as they cut down enemies.
Dark! Intense! That’s Dune, anyways in the novel it’s easy to take your time exploring these concepts. Introducing the audience to the religious ramifications of a simple name and fighting practice and how these things can have rippling repercussions upon a society like the Freman.
Now David Lynch didn’t have time for that! He had the belief (that may be right🤷‍♂️!) That watching a bunch of people kick each other on top of a sand dune would be Lame😭😭
So he made the choice for his film that “My name is a killing word” was to be taken Absolutely Literally and invented a device where if the freman said the name Muad-dib, shit would explode.
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If they said Paul’s name, they could Explode Stuff. Let it sink in how rad that is. Hell yeah man, hell yeah. Imagine me interpreting religious text that way, imagine if I made a bible movie and the moral I took from a parable is that when Jesus asked for food and everyone donated fish, I concluded that Jesus was a mutant who had fish powers and could immediately conjure fish with magic and gave him fish death rays that shot out of his hands.
So that’s what you can expect from this interpretation, the weirding way now means everyone has Lasers its rad as hell.
Some other incredible choices made! This is a spoiler, but in the novels and the new films you can see the Freman collecting every scrap of water they can. Dr Liet-Kynes, the planetologist, reveals to us it’s because they have a long, multiple generation spanding plan to fix the planet. By introducing this water back they hope to reset the ecosystem over centuries of work. The reason they have been unable to do this is because a green planet would obviously not have worms and sand who produce spice, the most coveted drug in the empire, so imperial and harkonnen forces have been stopping this from ever happening. They want to be free from oppression so that they can start to work on slowly fixing their world, a project that plays out in Paul’s adult life and has its own dramas and complexities.
In Dune 1984??? The moment, the Moment Paul lays out his cousin and throws the final punch, it begins to rain in Arrakis. As if they were all under a magical curse and were just waiting for a teenager to come fight another teenager and then the water will come back. It’s so good, it’s so funny.
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Also Pugs! House Atreides official Pugs! Paul has pugs in his lap!!
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This is honestly an adaptation choice that I really really like! Paul is the result of centuries of selective breeding, this practice is an artform to the Bene Gesserit and a skill that they monitor closely. It produces bizarre and sometimes terrifying results and is the reason for Paul’s existence.
I think having an animal that was also created through selective breeding, was engineered from a wolf into an animal that can hardly breathe is an incredible metaphor! A smart and identifiable symbol for the audience, I think it’s a slam dunk and the new movies should have done it to.
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Anyways can not recommend this film enough.
-The body suits the bad guys wear are made out of real body bags, that actually had been used.
-David Lynch to this day hates it.
-The original cut was four hours.
-The cast and crew were sick the Entire shoot with something they called Montezuma's Revenge, which was probably just food poisoning, side effects from the constant smog because they shot the whole thing on backup generators, illness from the cockroach infestation and terrible morale.
-Frank Herbert saw it multiple times and said he absolutely loved it.
-When they ride the worms, sick rock jams play.
If you love electric guitar, lasers, worms and will forgive me for not including all the trigger warnings cause Yes this film will gross you out, then go watch this movie.
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jenosbigtoe · 7 months
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brother’s best friend!lee jeno x reader
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minors dni
summary: your overprotective big brother's best friend is just too irresistible. too bad you have to keep your relationship a secret from him. established relationship au!
warnings: jeno is a freak lowkey, creampie, breeding kink, possessiveness, unprotected sex, size kink (if you squint), mating press, jeno fat cock, jeno is a simp, squirting, pussy eating, literally just pwp
wordcount: 2.4k
a/n: intentional lowercase (i hate autocaps) and not proofread so if you see any grammar mistakes lmk. IK THIS IS A WORN OUT TROPE BUT IDC BROTHERS BEST FRIEND JENO FTW this is just so self indulgent so if its ass um ☠️
pretty pink lip gloss, fresh set of french tip acrylics, short white mini skirt, strawberry scented lotion, and a pink lacy camisole. you, na y/n, were going to be the death of lee jeno.
"dude stop looking at my little sister like that you freak," jaemin threw a dirty sock laying around at his best friend's face as jeno stared at your plump ass like a piece of meat while you were in the kitchen making yourself a snack.
"shut the fuck up man," jeno grumbled as he proceeded to knock jaemin off course in moo moo meadows in mario kart.
you smirked knowingly with your back turned. you knew exactly what you were doing. it was 10 pm on a friday night, meaning jeno and jaemin were having their weekly guys night and would crash in the living room, playing video games, drinking beer, and eating pizza.
and it also meant you would get to dangle yourself like a piece of meat in front of your boyfriend and oblivious brother as you watch your hungry boyfriend try to behave himself.
"jaem let me have a turn," you whined, inviting yourself into the living room, and sat between the two boys on the verge of beating the shit out of each other over mario kart.
"y/n you know damn well you're shit at these types of games now why would i let you play when im about to rock jeno's shit," jaemin didn't even look over at you and continued to focus on the screen. "FUCKKKK JENO THOSE GODDAMN SHELLS. FUCK YOU DICKFACE”
jeno on the other hand glanced over at you, eyes never looking once at yours and instead focused straight on your plump titties popping right out of your push up bra. and he drove right off course, leaving jaemin to yelp in victory as he finished in 1st place.
"fuck you jaemin. here y/n you can play on my controller," jeno rolled his eyes and passed his controller to you. his character was already pink yoshi, making your heart melt because he knew that was your go to.
“thank you, jeno. at least some people are actually nice and considerate,” you rolled your eyes at your older brother.
"well okay you asked for it. prepare to get your ass kicked like our dear jen over there, y/n," jaemin said with an evil glint in his eyes.
as the game was about to start, you suddenly had an idea and paused the game. "wait jaem, i don't really know how to play. can you go easy on me?"
"hell no. you wanted to play with the big boys so now you gotta face the consequences."
you turned to look at jeno, who was very obviously just staring at your tits the entire time. "jeno, jaemin is being a bitch to me. can you teach me how to play since he doesn't want to go easy on me?" you tilted your head and pouted your lip in a way that you knew he liked.
you knew damn well how to play and beat the shit out of jaemin at mario kart but you also knew how good you looked right now and how this would be the perfect opportunity to tease your sexy boyfriend.
"aw hell no that's cheating, y/n," jaemin whined.
“too bad. it ain’t up to you, sore loser.” you gave jeno a smirk with a knowing look in your eyes.
"well i don't mind. plus you won the last round anyways, jaem," jeno spoke up, shifting around and subtlely fixing his sweatpants. you were teasing him so bad and it was going straight to his cock.
jaemin looked at jeno, then you, then right back at jeno, narrowing his eyes a bit. "hey since when did you two get so chummy?"
"jaemin stop being a bitch and let's just play. i don't even know how to play and jeno helping me isn't going to suddenly make me become a mario kart god."
jaemin rolled his eyes. "whatever man."
jaemin unpaused the game and the race started. you pretended to freak out, not knowing where to go as jaemin left you in the dust.
jaemin started laughing his ass off as he quickly climbed the ranks as you were left in dead last. "kiss my ass, y/n."
jeno leaned over to show you the controls but you took this opportunity to yank him to sit behind you, causing you almost be sitting in his lap as his arms wrapped you. "now show me the controls," you grinned evilly and shifted around so your ass rubbed against his dick.
jeno was stunned. doing this literally right in front of your brother? who forbade you two from ever seeing each other? he could just smell your sweet strawberry perfume, which had him wanting to just gobble you up. and your cute little outfit, god he just wanted to rip it right off of you and mark your body up, claim you as his. and not gonna lie, the thrill of being right next to your brother and his best friend had his heart pumping blood straight to his boner.
you both were lucky jaemin had tunnel vision when it came to video games, his face literally glued to the screen. otherwise he would've seen how your little white skirt rode up your thighs and your panties were literally grinding against his best friend's cock.
you let jeno take the controller and pretended to still be the one playing, occasionally screaming out curses at your brother and let out cheers when you hit him with shells. meanwhile you were really just shifting around on jeno's cock through his sweat pants as you ran your manicured nails up and down his veiny arms that were wrapped around you. his hands just looked so big and meaty on that controller, had you fantasizing about what they would be doing to you tonight.
as you neared the final lap, you in 6th place and jaemin in 2nd, you suddenly grabbed the controller out of jeno's hands and shoved him back beside you. he let out a loud grunt as he fell to the ground. jaemin suddenly took 1st place and finished the round. you were 8th. you gave jeno a fake apologetic look as he glared at you.
“oops,” you whispered, sticking your tongue out.
jaemin looked over at you and gave you a triumphant look. "now what did i tell you?"
you rolled your eyes and stood, your skirt rode up almost all the way and on the verge of exposing the little cream panties with red hearts on them that you knew jeno loved. the way jeno was sitting, you standing up gave him the perfect view of the way your puffy pussy fit in your little panties, making him even harder than before.
"whatever loser i'm heading back to my room. have fun being bitchless on a friday night." jaemin threw a pillow at your turned back. you sauntered back to your room, making careful sure to sway your hips as you knew jeno's eyes were trained straight on your ass.
it was 1 am and you were still up, bored out of your mind and scrolling through your phone. he should've been here by now, you pouted. you got frustrated and started ripping your clothes off, leaving you in just your push-up bra and panties when a voice from behind startled you.
"baby, you already starting without me? i'm hurt," jeno wrapped his arms around you, pressing his body against yours, and whispered softly in your ear, causing you to shiver.
you puffed out your cheeks. "waited for so long. was about to go to sleep because my shithead boyfriend left me needy over here."
jeno started groping at your body, squeezing your juicy tits and lightly grinding his erection against your barely clothed ass. "sorry sweet girl. jaem wouldn't fall asleep because that girl from his econ class finally texted him back, corny ass." he left a trail of kisses down your neck and sucked at a particular spot on your collar bone that had your knees weak.
you smiled to yourself. you couldn't pretend to be mad at him for long, not when you're so whipped for him. you turned around and looked up at him, admiring your sexy boyfriend. he finally listened to you and dyed his hair back to black, leaving it long and messy just how you like it. he was wearing a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants with the simple gold chain you bought him for his birthday. he knew just how you like it. what a fucking manwhore. you were ready to devour him whole.
you smashed your lips on his, messy and hot, tongue everywhere and spit dripping down your connected mouths. suddenly, you pushed him down on your bed and started straddling him, grinding your pussy directly on his cock through his sweatpants, causing him to groan into your mouth. one hand gripped at your hair and the other groped your ass.
"baby i need you. i missed you so much," you whispered, looking into his eyes.
he connected his lips to yours with a renewed fervor. clothes started flying off as you kissed each other passionately. he reached for a condom in your nightstand but you stopped him.
"raw baby. i need you in me right now." you grinned at him.
he cursed, flipped you over on your back and used his weight to press you against the mattress. his thick, muscular body pressing you to the mattress had you breathless and in need for more. "is my baby needy? is my baby needy for this cock?"
he reached down and began to lightly caress your pussy, gathering your leaking juices and spreading it around. his fingers teased your hole, rubbing circles around it and occasionally deciding to stick one in for one pump before going back to rubbing and teasing.
"had me thinking about this pussy all night. fuck. love you so much baby. you're so sexy and you get me so hard. no one does it for me like you. you looked so cute today, just wanted to eat you up. didn't care if that shithead was there, just wanted to love on my girl." he continued to tease your little pussy and alternate between fingering and rubbing you.
then he crawled down until he was facing your wet pussy directly. staring at your pussy like a piece of meat in front of starved lion, he gave one long lick all the way up your cunt and started sucking, making sure to make lewd noises. your legs were shaking with need as you gripped his hair.
"fuck you taste so good. all wet just for me. this pussy is mine," he groaned into your cunt.
at this point, your pussy was gushing so much you felt a puddle beneath you. his fingers and lips felt so so good on your pussy but you were tired of his teasing. you got up and suddenly looked down at him seriously. "jen if your cock isn't in me in the next 5 seconds i'm seriously going to break up with you and fuck haechan or something."
this lit a fire within jeno, whose eyes darkened. he lifted his body and gave his impossibly hard cock a few pumps, rubbing your juices all over his massive cock. he grabbed your thighs, lifted your legs over his shoulders, and shoved his cock into your little pussy with one big thrust.
you both moaned out, your pussy leaking happily as he bottomed out, balls deep. he set out on a fast past immediately, pounding your pussy deeper and harder with each thrust. you could feel his heavy balls slap against your ass.
"yes, jen yes yes yes! oh god more more! love you so much baby," you grabbed at his hair as he pounded your pussy into oblivion. in the deep mating press he had you in, you could feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. his cock was just so so big, you could never get enough of it.
you could see the veins pop out of his neck and his beefy arms were pinning your hips down as his hips were pounding you with each powerful thrust. he looked so so so sexy and he was all yours.
"god baby your pussy was made for me. love you so so much. mine. all mine. everything about you all mine, just for me," jeno kissed you passionately, both moaning into each other mouths.
he used one of his hands to press down on your lower belly, making your pussy leak and throb around him. "you feel that, princess? you feel me deep in your tummy? only i can do that to you, only me."
your mind was blank at this point, body completely numb to everything except the pleasure he was giving you. you could feel yourself about to get sent over the edge, your pussy spasming and clenching hard around every vein on his cock.
"bout to cum baby don't stop don't stop!!" you orgasmed with a loud scream, pussy squirting all over his stomach.
jeno continued fucking you through your orgasm, grunting at the feeling of your little pussy spasming all over his cock. "baby m close too, fuckkk."
fat tears rolled down your face at the overstimulation of pleasure. "jen please cum inside please."
jeno groaned, thrusting every harder and deeper than before. "such a slut. you like that huh? you want your boyfriend to knock you up? you want to have a baby with your brother's best friend? fuck. how about you just get pregnant? he wouldn't be able to disapprove of us when you're already round and waddling around with my baby."
with one loud groan, he bottomed out inside of you and let out his thick load. he collapsed on top of you, cock still balls deep inside, crushing you under all his weight with your face pressed against his sweaty chest.
you stayed like that for a few seconds before you tapped on his back, signaling that you couldn't breathe. still keeping his cock deep inside your leaking pussy, he flipped you over on your side and cuddled your back, wrapping one arm around your waist and the other pushing your hair out of your face. you panted, eyes closed in bliss. jeno drew circles on your arms and left kisses up and down your jaw and neck.
"just saying, you would look sexy as fuck pregnant with our baby." jeno whispered.
you opened your eyes to turn back and swat at his chest but what you saw made your blood run cold in horror.
it was your brother standing right in the open doorway staring at your naked bodies with a look of fury, surprise, horror, and shock that you had never seen before.
the three of you screamed at the sight of each other in unison.
a/n: i intentionally wrote the ending like that because i'm unsure if anyone would even want to continue reading this lmaooo so lmk what you think
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neteyamsilly · 1 year
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 1
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summary ;; As Jake Sully's oldest daughter, you never see eye to eye with him, always challenging him and pushing his buttons to the limit. What happens when things go too far one day? [PART 2] pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; welcome to the labor of my daddy issues and my very own therapy. this fic is inspired by this one by @layonatanvi and I only wanted to borrow the running away from home to get an ikran idea/prompt! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any.
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There’s a widespread belief among sky people that every first-born daughter is a direct copy of her father. 
You listened in on your own father complaining to your mother about this privately one time; according to him, this was why you guys kept banging hammerheads like 'angtsìks. 
Lo’ak was his troublemaker, yes, but you were the rebel pain in his ass, wouldn’t stop questioning one tiny simple step he made, never took anything seriously when he needed you to be on top of things hundred percent of the time... Even your younger brother knew boundaries after he was given the stink eye, but you hadn’t stopped testing him every single goddamn day after the sky people had come back. 
His youngest son and oldest daughter were nearly identical in the speed they got him seeing red, but the similarities ended there. Lo’ak would go behind him to cause trouble, and you would do it right to his face, that fearlessness and defiance made you more dangerous than your brother in your father’s opinion.  
His blood pressure skyrocketing was reserved for Lo’ak and the shenanigans he knew right away the boy was getting into, and you got his explosive anger the moment you would open your mouth to defy him — he couldn’t talk to you, a normal conversation even about your mother’s cooking wasn’t possible without you being passive-aggressive and things snowballing from there. 
(“This is delicious Neytiri, thank you for the food. Sturmbeest?”
“Sturmbeest meat ran out like two weeks ago, father. You ask this everyday and mom answers the same everyday.”
Cue him reprimanding you for talking to him like that, you saying maybe he should greenlight a hunt soon to calm his nerves and promptly being sent to your room. It was Neteyam who’d saved some food for you that night.)
If only you would stop talking back to him and listen for once, he’d said, pacing in the tent with hands on hips like an agitated viperwolf as mother watched on, most likely tired from going through this loop for yet another day. You are the older sister to Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk, why can’t you be a role model for them like Neteyam is? 
(Mom had given him the flattest, “She is at the age for such behavior, Ma’Jake, we’ve talked about this. Let her be.”)
In your defense, he didn’t make sense sometimes, what harm was there in wanting him to explain the thought process behind his decisions?
Apparently you simply were prohibited from doing that to the Olo’eyktan. 
But he was father, he was your family. Why did that have to be disrespect? 
He wasn’t like this before.
A small part of you was aware this was you lashing out because you missed your father — the lighthearted rock in your life, the big shadow protecting you from the heat of the world, who knew how to smile and show his love before all of this. Now he was just the leader of the clan, the weight of the revered Toruk Makto on his shoulders made him a total stranger you didn’t recognize. 
He barely ever called you sweetheart anymore, punishing you for being a brat, most likely. You tried to act like it didn’t hurt. 
But it did. You missed him dearly when he was right in front of you. The rest of the family did, too, they just didn’t say it out loud the way you expressed through what you called standing up to him — in reality, it was a statement about the man he had become, father couldn’t read between the lines to understand.
Mom did. 
She would always explain he did it out of love and worry, and his every move had a reason behind it after the scoldings ended. It was as if she saw right through the prickly exterior of her eldest daughter.
Her love wasn’t held back like his was, not shared like military MREs at decided moments in a day in between attacks, raids, meetings and duties. Hers were long touches, hugs, kisses on your temple, shared time and hunts together, her letting you ride on her ikran with her, the warmth of a meal and soft smiles; whilst his was randomly asking how you were after training and where you’ve been if he caught onto your absence sometimes. He didn’t have time for you or your siblings except for Tuktuk these days. That’s why you were now a mama’s girl.
Sooner or later, the breaking point was finally bound to arrive. 
Yours did after a particularly heated-up fight about your rite of passage. You had had enough of father postponing it when Lo’ak, younger than you, had already gained his own ikran and gone through uniltaron. He was present in the tent while you were fussing and debating with your immovable mountain of a father only answering with single syllable responses, and his light snickers made you all the more aggressive. He got a strong jab from Kiri after a loud snort.  
Kiri, you could get. She was built different from the start — got her mount earlier than anybody else, just walked up to it and asked. Besides, the girl wasn’t a dick about it like Lo’ak was. 
“You aren’t ready yet,” father answered the more you asked him. You thought he'd say a different thing the hundredth time, but he didn't. “Your brother was.”
Lo’ak puffed his chest at that, desperate for a drop of recognition as always, and you could only roll your eyes. “So you think I’m weak? I’m not strong enough?”
Father sighed at the provocation. “That’s not what I’m saying. This and being ready are two different things.”
“How are they different? If I’m on top of my training, that means I’m ready.”
“Physically ready, and mentally ready are not the same.”
“How can I not be mentally ready, I’ve already seen what happens—”
“Enough!” He stood up, towering above you and leaning in slightly. Your younger brother had stopped smiling so quickly you almost let a laugh escape you, and father got agitated when he saw that, thinking you were making fun of him. “Some don’t return from the dream hunt. Do you understand? The strongest sometimes don’t return from that. Your mind needs to be strong.”
“And mine isn’t?”
He gave a slow exhale through his nose, not actually wanting to say it for some reason. “No it isn’t.”
“Why?”
There it is. Your signature phrase. ‘Why?’
And it made your father look above, asking silently for patience from Eywa as it always did. 
“Ma’ite, why don’t we take a break, hm? Come walk with me,” your mom interrupted, taking your hand and standing next to you, your four fingers got enveloped in her larger, warmer grip, strong and insistent. 
“No, I wanna hear it. What do you think makes me not ready?”
You insinuating that your father was entirely going off his own wrong opinion and not knowing any better set him off. You saw the change from ticked off to borderline on edge, but instead of giving into it, he turned his back on you and went back to cleaning his gun, movements choppy and harsh. “That immaturity for a start.”
And you hissed at him—actually hissed at him when none of your siblings would ever dare to talk back to him during a lecture. 
The audible gasps, the holding of breaths, and the slow turn of your father’s head looking like he was going through confusion of reality upon being hit on the head had followed. His eyes narrowed and the lines of his eyebrows got gradually lower on his face, his form seemingly expanding in mass from building anger, spine slowly straightening after fully comprehending what you just did.
“I’m way past you giving me attitude missy,” his baritone and low voice was so steady that you’d rather him yell at you like usual, but he was scarily calm, pushing you to raise your chin righteously at him to show you weren’t bothered by him none, but your ears betrayed you by cowering flat and taut against your skull. “But you’re hissing at your father now? Hm? You think this right here is gonna get you the respect you think you deserve?”
“You don’t listen,” you said, ignoring your heart trashing away from how coldly father was to you.  “Disrespect,” your fingers quoting in the air resulted only in making him angrier. Neteyam to his right, silent and observant the whole argument, was furiously shaking his head that the beads in his braids were clicking loudly. “is the only way you ever pay attention to anything anymore. See? Look how sharp you are right now. Mission accomplished, I guess.” 
“Bro…” Lo’ak, frightened by the wide eyed glare father was giving you, weakly protested, but you knew he would never be able to interfere in the verbal struggle between you and father the way you did to his. 
“You will go to your room,” father said between his teeth, “Do not let me see your face. I swear to Eywa—Neytiri, get her outta here.“
“Do you ever want to see our faces anymore, father?” 
A beat. 
Mom gasped your name in shock, grabbing your arm this time as if she wanted to drag you away. 
All his fury froze away immediately. “What did you just say?” 
You just stared at him. 
“That’s enough,” your mother snapped at you, but you didn’t hold it against her, she was more worried about what would follow if this went on. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
“Okay.” Father slowly shook his head, the storm brewing right under his skin got you preparing for the impact, and all the kids flinched when he threw the unloaded gun back in the crate. “You know so much, don’t you? You’re smart, wise. Know better than Tsahik herself. Fine, you get your way. Go.”
You froze. “What?”
“Yeah, go. Get yourself an ikran.”
“Father—”
“Don’t father me. Go on. I’m not stopping you. Since you’re so ready and you’ll say just about anything to get what you want, who am I to get in your way, huh?” 
But you didn’t want it to be like this. Iknimaya was supposed to be something exciting, prideful — a ceremony. He was saying it like you were being thrown out. Who was going to paint your face? Be proud of you? 
“Why are you just standing there?” He poked your crushed ego further, confident in the fact that you wouldn't set one foot outside of the cave systems at this hour of the day. “Didn’t you want this?”
You didn’t want this. 
“Dad, it’s the middle of the night,” Kiri said, appalled, not quite believing her ears. 
“What does it matter?” He showed you in mock pride, up and down that you couldn’t stop the tears from stinging the corners of your eyes. “Mighty hunter here is ready.”
“Jake,” your mother warned in such a threatening tone that he stopped and shifted on his feet, almost uneasy. 
“What? If she doesn’t want a father’s concern I’m not giving it to her.”
Like you weren’t standing right in front of him at all. 
“Jake!”
That was the final straw. You wrenched your arm free from mom’s iron grip and screamed, “I hate you!” at the top of your lungs at him before storming off the tent.
His ears flattening was the last thing you paid attention to as everything became a blur because of tears swelling. Yeah, right. You wished you could hurt him, unfortunately he was too much of a wall for that. You bet he was scoffing at your declaration right now.
Your body thought faster than your brain did even when the emotions had you drowning under the current, deciding you were going to sneak off to the ikran rookery tonight. You knew he would send Neteyam after you — him barking, “Follow your sister,” at the boy right after you hid yourself between the rocks surrounding the tent was the confirmation of the hypothesis. He was to make sure you didn’t leave High Camp. 
Everyone in your family knew your favorite hiding spot to cool off, Neteyam of course was heading there automatically, and it was the headstart you needed to get a move on. 
Fine. You would complete your iknimaya yourself without anybody’s support, as if these things had any value anymore with how military he’d conditioned the clan to be. You were going to make him eat his words for humiliating you.
The muffled of father drifting off flared up your determination as you soundlessly sneaked off. "Jesus, I've spoiled her too much..."
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pradabambie · 4 months
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the roommate. rafe cameron x reader x felix catton. pt. 3
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"are you sure you like it?" you asked rafe for the fifth time, running your hands on your pink dress, trying to get rid of the few wrinkles.
"you look hot as fuck," rafe said as he planted a kiss on the crown of your head and playfully slapped your ass, earning a laugh from you.
"so, remind me again, why do you have to wear pink?" the blonde asked as he sat on the table, a blunt in his right hand, which he lit up "trying to calm the fuck down after the little stunt you pulled," he had explained.
"it's a little tradition felix and i have," you mumbled while retouching your mascara.
rafe rolled his eyes in response.
"can you try to loosen up tonight, rafey? it's important for me that the two of you get along."
you turned to look at him with your best puppy eyes, the kind rafe couldn't ever resist.
he sighed. "i promise to be on my best behavior," you smiled, "as long as he doesn’t touch you, talks to you, or looks in your direction!" he finished off with a grin.
"now let’s get out of here before i change my mind about letting you out in that tiny dress."
a couple of minutes later, you were already at the door of the pub. the scent of smoke and alcohol invaded your lungs, and the pounding music invited you in.
"there she is! over here, love!" lex called for you from the other side of the crowded room, waving his hand to get your attention.
the pet name seemed to annoy rafe, who clung to you possessively as you guided him to the table.
you introduced your boyfriend briefly to the rest of the people there, not that they paid any attention, except for a couple of your closer friends, who got up and greeted him.
felix saw an opportunity when rafe was distracted making small talk with one of your classmates.
he lowered his head to your ear, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck as he said, "you look fucking incredible tonight, not that i can say it out loud, but just so you know."
he winked as he stood straight again, making you look up at him since he was so goddamn tall.
"so, pink, felix? really?" rafe mocked as he pointed at the fuchsia shirt the boy was wearing, matching perfectly with your dress. "what’s that about?"
felix, catching the comment, grinned in response. "come on, mate, not everyone can rock the posh boy look like you do," he said, taking another sip of his beer.
as the night unfolded, felix and rafe engaged in a subtle competition for your attention.
if felix wanted to do shots with you while licking salt off each other's hands, rafe would get extra touchy with you on the dancefloor, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer and closer to him, so close that you could feel him.
and when rafe went into a full make-out session with you in a corner, a result of the building tension the two felt while dancing, felix got needy and wanted to take pics with you in your matching outfits. of course, he wanted rafe to take them, so he could stare right at him as he placed his hand on your waist.
he was getting to rafe, and he loved it.
eventually, you all got drunk and returned to the initial table, taking a break from the nonstop dancing and drinking.
the conversation was light between the few people left, and at one point, felix leaned in, his voice low. "you know, you and i should get matching bracelets someday. what do ya think?"
his finger traced imaginary figures in your hand.
rafe, catching wind of the conversation, shot felix a disapproving look. "she doesn't need more bracelets. she's got plenty. all bought by me."
felix chuckled, acknowledging the tension. "easy there, tiger. just a suggestion."
“i need to get some air,” rafe said to you as he got up from his seat.
“you don’t want me to come with you?” you were kinda worried felix’s banter was getting to him.
“no, baby, you’ll freeze,” he stopped you from complaining by planting a kiss on your lips, holding your face with both his hands. after that, he made his way to the outside of the bar.
you didn’t notice felix staring, and you didn’t notice when he went after rafe.
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steddie-island · 5 months
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@steddiemas day 7 - mall and/or workplace WC: 952 | Rating: M (for language) No content warnings, full tags on ao3
Update: @doomcheese made lovely lovely art of them and you should go look at it and show it and her all the love!!! 🥰
Jingle Boy Rock
Wearing the usual Scoops Ahoy uniform was bad enough 11 months out of the year. Wearing it in December was fucking miserable. 
Gone were their usual hats, and in their place were elf hats– the kind that were red with green trim, with a bell on the end and giant felt elf ears on the sides. They were given bright red shorts, with a green and red striped shirt that had bells hanging from the spikes around the collar. 
Steve would have preferred to wear the regular uniform everywhere every day for the rest of his life than wear the goddamned elf outfit all month long. 
Especially when Eddie fucking Munson, the goddamn bane of his existence, worked right across the mall, at the record store. Eddie had taken one look at the Scoops uniform and decided that he was going to be the biggest nuisance in Steve’s life. Every lunch break, every time he was bored, every time he just felt like it, he was there. Leaning against the freezer and smiling that crooked smile. Steve really didn’t want to know how much worse the wheedling was going to get when Eddie saw their holiday uniforms. 
“Jingle boy!” 
Steve groaned– he hadn’t been at work for five fucking minutes, and already Eddie was calling across the mall to him. He pushed both hands over his face and grabbed the hat to pull it off. “He only does that because he always gets a reaction out of you,” Robin pointed out. At least her outfit– a red dress with a green shirt underneath it and matching white and green striped tights— was cute. 
“He does that because he’s a pain in the ass,” Steve said. He dropped the elf ears onto the counter and leaned back against it with his arms crossed over his chest. “I can’t deal with this today.” “Right. Like you don’t love it.” Robin shook her head. “Just kiss him already, dingus.” Steve had heard this at least five times already, and just like he had every other time he waved it away. “Do you say that shit to him, too?”
“No, just to you.” She pushed away from the counter. “Hey, Eddie.” “Hey Buck!” Eddie sauntered over to the counter. Surprisingly he was wearing a hat, too, but it was black velvet with white fur trim. 
“Santa’s goth now?” Steve asked. “Metal, actually. I have to shake things up somehow, right?” Eddie leaned against the freezer. “I like the new getup. It’s very… ‘Hallmark threw up on me.’”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Do you need something, Munson? Some of us actually have work to do.”
“No one’s here,” Robin pointed out. She just grinned when Steve glared at her. 
“I’m actually here ‘cause I have something for you,” Eddie said. For the first time that Steve could recall, Eddie actually looked… nervous. 
“You have something… for me?” he asked. 
“Yeah.” Eddie pulled a box out of his pocket. “It’s not a big thing, just… something that made me think of you.” He slid the box across the counter and tapped the lid with his fingers. “Go ahead, open it.”
“It’s only the 7th,” Steve said. 
“I know, but I want you to open it early.” Eddie tucked his hands into his back pockets. “Please?”
“You said ‘please.’ Does that mean something’s gonna jump out of the box at me?” Steve joked. He untied the pretty red ribbon and took the lid off. Inside was the cutting of a plant, just a stem with a few little shoots that ended in green leaves and little white berries. There was a matching red ribbon tied around it. 
“Is this…” Steve looked at Eddie. He wondered vaguely if his cheeks were as pink as Eddie’s were. “...mistletoe?”
“Yeah.” Eddie ducked his head so his hair fell into his face. “I, um… I realized that I don’t think my flirting has been working? And I figured, before I turned you off of me forever…”
“Wait– wait, you’ve been flirting with me?” Steve asked. “Since when?”
Eddie looked at him with those big, deep eyes. “Since I walked in and said ‘hey, big boy’? What did you think I was doing?”
“Trying to get under my skin!” Steve said. “Are you– really?”
“I wasn’t trying to get under your skin. Maybe in your pan–” “Hey! Maybe you two should go to the breakroom to finish this conversation!” Robin said. “Quickly, though, Santa’s almost here and that means we’re gonna be packed.”
Steve caught Eddie’s hand and tugged him towards the back room that had a couch, two folding chairs, and a wobbly card table. “You’ve really been flirting with me?” he asked. 
It made sense, when he thought back to all the time Eddie spent tugging at his scarf or flicking his hat, talking about his shorts and–
“Oh my god, I’m an idiot.” Steve shook his head and lightly hit himself in the forehead with his fist– a move he wanted to repeat when the bells around his neck jingled with the movement. “Oh my god!”
Eddie giggled and wrapped his fingers around Steve’s hand to stop him from doing that. “Be nice to yourself,” he said, and Steve was shocked when Eddie leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “Anyway, Stevie… my gift. What’d you think?”
“I think… that it’s bad luck, if we let it go to waste.” Steve lifted it out of the box by the stem and leaned in with a smile. 
He wasn’t sure what the mistletoe was supposed to mean exactly, but as their lips met, and as his fingers curled into Eddie’s soft hair, Steve found that he was more than willing to find out. 
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fuckmyskywalker · 5 months
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❄️ 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟐𝐧𝐝 : 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 - 𝐒𝐚𝐦 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞.
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— CW: 18+. Smut. Oral (f). Masturbation. Brief vaginal penetration. Creampie. Exhibitionism. | Word Count: 0.8k
— a/n: I'm finally free and I'm no longer sick! I'll catch up with the 23 and upload 24 <3. Kissies and sorry for the inconvenience!
— Anyafest 2023 + Taglist!
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When Sam invited you to spend Christmas with his mom’s side of the family, you clearly weren’t expecting to be dragged behind the tall, leafy Christmas tree; the bright colorful lights bathed your face, highlighting the confused expression on your flushed cheeks. “What are you doing?” You whisper at your boyfriend, looking between the thick branches, making sure his mother or his aunts are still chatting in the kitchen.
Sam pushes you against the wall, his hip brushing against the tree and making some ornaments jingle softly. “I want to fuck you,” He states simply as if it was obvious— it kind of was. “It’s so stupid my mom is making us sleep in separate rooms.”
“We can’t fuck in the living room!”
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
Smashing his lips against yours, Sam slides his cold hands under your loose T-shirt, cupping your breasts and squeezing them. His erection rubs against your thigh, barely concealed by those ridiculous red checkered pajama pants his mother bought for everyone to wear… including you. His thumbs circle your nipples as he drinks your moans with harsh, demanding kisses. With your palms against his shoulders, you try to push him away to protest a little more, but it seems that he has other plans; one hand releases your chest, yanks the waistband of your pants down, bringing your underwear with them. “You better be quiet,” He threatens you before kneeling and burying his face between your legs.
His tongue traces your folds before using his thumbs to spread them. Licking his lips, Sam runs his tongue flat over your clit, flicking it repeatedly. The thrill of doing it behind the goddamned Christmas tree is making your head go dizzy, you should be ashamed, have an ounce of respect for his family… but right now you can’t seem to care when your boyfriend is sucking your clit with equal need. He wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to fuck you. Your hand reaches for his dark locks, tugging at them to grind against his face eliciting a quiet laugh from him, his hot breath hitting your cunt in a way that sends shivers from your head to your toes. 
“You taste like a whole fucking meal,” He mumbles, returning his tongue to your swollen nub and torturing you a little more. “This pussy is just perfect.”
Staying quiet becomes quite the challenge when you lower your eyes, no longer focusing on the white ceiling, just in time for Sam to pull his pajama and wrap a hand around his throbbing member, smearing the precum that trickled down the tip. 
“Sam—” You choke, furrowing your brows when his tongue slides in. Stroking himself quickly, Sam’s hips rock back and forth, seeking his own release while hurrying yours. The heartbeat ringing loudly in your ears mutes the laughs from the kitchen, his family being the least of your problems now.
The flick of his wrist speeds up as he returns his mouth around your clit, stimulating it until you are sure you are touching heaven itself— you are so close to coming, maybe it is from the adrenaline, the high risk of getting caught, or to be fair, Sam’s skilled tongue can be doing the trick. 
“I’m gonna come, don’t stop—” He nods at your words, slowing his pleasure to only focus on yours until it happens. Biting your lower lip, your climax hits you like a strong electric wave that lasts longer than you expected. The world spins around you, your mind drowned with the ecstasy and oxytocin that burns in your fingertips. 
“That’s it, dolly,” Sam whispers hotly, panting and already sweaty. Standing up, he guides his cock between your slick folds, pushing it and stretching you in a swift motion. “Shh, it’s okay— I’ll just come inside to save us the mess. Be quiet.” He says, thrusting quickly and fast before he grunts and presses his forehead against yours. His eyebrow twitches as his cock mimics it in rapid jerks, shooting his load deep inside you. You hold him, savoring the small intimate moment and humming at the familiar feeling of his cock filling you up. 
“You are insane.” You laugh, catching your breath— when you hear footsteps coming from the kitchen.
Sam’s eyes widen and he quickly presses his body flush against yours, holding his breath as his face presses next to yours. Thank fucking God the tree is tall and wide enough and covered in decorations to cover you both. You side-eye him with a terrified expression, if his mother finds you two… you can’t even imagine the embarrassment. 
Robin calls your name followed by Sam’s. No answer. She calls again, this time louder. Your heart stops beating for a second or at least it feels like. You two are screwed. 
“Leave them alone,” Sam’s grandma yells from the kitchen and you have never been more thankful. “Come back and help me with the turkey.”
Reluctantly, Robin looks around the living room and grabs the TV remote, the forgotten movie you and Sam were watching no longer concealing the noises you two made. She walks away, replying something to her mother you can’t quite catch. Sam exhales, relieved that he dodged the bullet.
“Sorry,” He chuckles, kissing your cheek. “I promise it won’t happen again.”
But it’s a lie, you know it will happen again.
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— ❄️ Taglist! : @offthethirlwall | @pockcock | @shellxrls | @anisdoll | @wifeofasith | @anakinsgirlfriendreal | @anisgurll | @mortalheartache | @arzua10 | @haydensgirlaela | @bimbo-baggins86 | @https-luvaviva | @bunnylovesani | @glazelilies | @slvttedoutmars
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lanadelnegan · 1 month
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Ghost - Part 3
Negan x Glenn'sSister!Reader
Part 2 here // Part 4 here
Warnings: 18+, negan masturbating, negan being all sweet and protective
A/n: I thought this would be the last part, but it was so long I had to break it up. Part 4 will be posted soon!
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Negan’s POV: 
I waited all night for her but she never came. Hopping back on my bike, I drove back to the sanctuary the next morning. I spent the next few days drinking in my room and missing her. Trying to give her space was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. 
Two of my wives came to check on me, and I rudely dismissed them. And told them to kick rocks, for good. I wouldn’t even be able to get my dick up with anyone else but her. This girl has me wrapped around her goddamn finger and I don’t even know her name. 
I sat on the couch, closed my eyes and imagined her face. Our night together. How I fucked her through her little shorts. I imagined her lips between mine and the little sounds she made as she scratched my back. Fuck. 
I rubbed myself through my pants, imagining myself between her legs before I got impatient and pulled my cock out. I spit in my hand and began stroking it, focusing extra on the tip. My head pressed against the couch and I groaned, jerking my dick faster. Fuck, fuck fuuuuck. 
"Boss, we've got a problem." Fucking Simon. 
Tucking myself back in my pants, I walked over and flung the door open, clearly annoyed with an extreme case of blue balls. We walked towards the back exit quickly while Simon filled me in on the situation. 
“Rick and the rest of them are outside." Simon explained. "He said he only wants you.” 
“Of course he does.” I chuckled before walking out onto the balcony. “Well, what a nice surprise. This better be good Rick. I was right in the middle of something.”  
Her silky black hair caught my attention almost instantly and I couldn't take my eyes off her. She stood beside Rick and my heart sank for two reasons. I couldn't let her get hurt in the middle of all this. And what the hell was she doing? She couldn't seriously want this.
I leaned next to Simon's ear and whispered. “Make sure everyone knows that one is off limits." I nodded towards my girl. "If anyone harms a hair on her pretty head, it'll be the last thing they ever do."
Your POV, earlier that day: 
“We go in quick, and we don’t leave until Negan is dead. Understood?” Rick’s voice sounded far away and I realized my mind had been wandering the entire time, not able to concentrate.. Or accept Rick’s plan for Alexandria to go after the Saviors. I couldn't lose someone I...
Care about… again. 
“Y/n?” Rick asked, tilting his head at me. 
“Yes, understood.” 
The ride over took ages it seemed like. My head rested against the window of the truck while I watched the sun slowly start to disappear. I should be thrilled. This is what I’ve wanted for so long - to get revenge. 
So why did I want to save him?
“I dunno if I can do this.” Daryl’s focus remained on the road as I spoke. “I know you don’t understand it, but there’s good in him. I’ve seen it.”
Daryl scoffed. “Unbelievable.”
“I just don’t wanna see anyone else die, Daryl.” I wiped a tear from my cheek.
“Some people deserve it.”
“And we don’t? Think about all the ones we’ve killed.”
“Not the same.” Daryl mumbled. 
“But it is. That’s the world we live in now. We do what we have to to survive. We’re all… psycho murderers, really.”  
“Listen to yourself. What do you think Glenn would think about you defending the man who killed him?” 
I sat quietly for a few moments, focusing my attention back on the clouds. “I think he’d be proud of me.” The gravel suddenly rumbling beneath the truck let us know we were getting close to the sanctuary and Daryl pulled over, parking near the others. 
“You’re either with us, or ya aint. But you need to hurry and decide.” Daryl warned before he quietly exited the truck and met up with the others ahead. 
I owe them for everything they’ve done for me. Everything they did for Glenn. I closed my eyes before hopping out of the car and quickly caught up with the rest of the group. Daryl gave me a nod and the rest of the tread was quiet. I tried focusing my mind on anything but Negan, disassociating to the best of my ability - a skill I’ve perfected over the past few months. 
“Negan needs to surrender. This has to happen now. This is the only way.” Rick’s voice rang through my ears as I stood near him, shielding myself with the metal that stood between us and the Saviors. Peeking out, I watched Negan appear behind the railing, an arrogant smirk forming on his lips.
“You’re gonna make me count?!" Rick shouted. "Okay, okay. I’m counting. 10….”
Negan eyes traveled to mine and his gaze softened. I stared at him, silently begging him to surrender while Rick counted. He studied me as if he wondered if I wanted this. 
Of course not. Surrender, goddammit. 
I watched him lean over and whisper something to Simon while his eyes were still on me. Simon nodded and took out his radio, signaling something to the others that I couldn't hear. 
The sound of Rick's gun cocking distracted me, and without thinking, I jumped in front of him, pulling the gun with with me. A bullet went straight through my foot, but I barely felt it.
I heard Negan cursing in the background amongst all the other chaos transpiring. Walkers were filing in now and everyone eventually scattered. I limped as quickly as I could, trying to escape before my feet lifted off the ground. I quickly realized it was Negan and he rushed us to an empty trailer nearby, shutting the door behind him when we made it inside.
“Oww.” I groaned, limping over to the wall and sliding down it. I pulled off my bloody sock and shoe and cringed at the bullet hole in my foot. The pain was starting to set in now.
“Shit.” Negan grabbed a first aid kit from a cabinet above and kneeled down, wrapping my foot. “The hell were you thinkin' darlin'?.”
He looked up at me, slightly grinning and I rolled my eyes. He finished wrapping it up, kissed my forehead, and sat next to me on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. His hand rested on my thigh protectively and I wanted to reach for it and hold his hand but I couldn’t. We both sat in silence for a few moments before he finally spoke.  
“You never came. I waited on you all night.” 
My heart ached at the thought of him there alone. “I told you, Negan. I don’t want to see you anymore.” 
“Yet.. you just took a bullet for me.” I could hear the cocky smile through his voice. 
“Why did you want to meet?” I asked.
“I guess I thought maybe if we went back to our place, you’d see me differently. The way you did that night, and I’d actually have a chance to win you over.”
When I looked over at him, I saw the man he was that night. Before I knew his name and all the horrible things he had done. I replayed everything in my head - the steam from his shower, our deep talks about our old high school days, his wife Lucille and how her death broke his heart, and how he read to me. And then I remembered him in between my legs, but stopping before it got too far because we were both tipsy.
How could the same man who bashed someone's skull in be the same one the had enough decency not to take advantage of a woman? I wanted so desperately to believe in the man he was that night - for that to be the only version of him. 
“Listen baby, I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have." His voice was lower than usual when he spoke. "I get that you don’t wanna see me anymore and I’ve gotta learn to be okay with that. I don’t want to be a constant reminder of your brother’s death.” He leaned his head against the wall. “Fuckin' stupid of me to think this could ever work, huh?” 
With every word he spoke, my heart broke into smaller pieces. If Negan would have died today, I’d hate myself for the rest of my life for not going back to the cabin and meeting him that night. As difficult as our life would be together - for so many reasons, I can’t live without him. 
“Negan..” 
“Yeah?” His hazel eyes met mine and he looked like a sad puppy that I desperately wanted to comfort.
“I don’t think I can ever forgive you.”
He nodded, clearly hurt and I watched his eyes fill with tears before he looked down. 
I sighed, hoping I wouldn’t regret what I was about to say. “But I love you. And I want to find a way to make this work.”
His eyes darted back and forth between mine before his hand cupped my face and he kissed me all in one motion. I've missed his lips so much. His mouth was gentle, like he was scared to break me, but I wanted him to, so I pulled him closer and opened my mouth slightly. His tongue slipped in and collided with mine, making me see stars. After a few moments, he pulled away, breathing heavily and resting his forehead against mine. 
“I love you so fuckin’ much, sweetheart. I’ll never disappoint you again.”
“I know.” And I did. I believed him. Gunfire in the distance quickly snapped us back to reality but we held each other, neither of us willing to let go first.
"Negan, I've gotta go back with them."
"No. Stay with me at the sanctuary until we figure out a plan? I'll take care of you and-"
"We can't. You can't stay here, Negan. It's not safe, they'll come back for you. Rick won't stop until you're dead."
"Then I'll kill him first, doll. Simple."
"No. You're not killing anyone else - none of my people. I can't lose anyone else. The only way everyone survives this is if you surrender."
Negan scoffed. "And then what? Be a goddamn prisoner and Rick's little bitch for the rest of my life? Not gonna happen, darlin'."
I sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.
"Hey, you're not giving up on me already are you?" Negan's hand rested again my cheek as he urged me to look at him.
"No.. no, I just, I dunno what to do."
"We've got all night to figure it out, doll. We don't have many options. There's no way you're going back to Alexandria on that foot. Come on." Negan stood, holding his hand out to me and I took it. "Stay close behind me, baby."
I nodded, gripping the back of Negan's shirt as he kicked the door open, flinging a few walkers in the process. I helped as much as I could, stabbing a few with my knife as Negan worked our way through the crowd.
Luckily the sanctuary itself seemed untouched. The walkers were only outside in the yard while a couple of guards secured the entry to the sanctuary doors. They opened them quickly as Negan and I tumbled in. His hand wrapped around my waist, helping me walk with my hurt foot.
We could hear Simon and the others around the corner. Turning the corner, Negan whistled his favorite tune and I watched in awe as the rest of the saviors bowed before us.
"I bet you all thought I was dead, huh?" Negan chuckled. "Here's a little refresher on who the hell I am. I wear a leather jacket, I have -“ He paused, leaning into you. "Hell’s your name darlin’? You never told me.” You whispered your name in his ear and giggled. He turned back to the saviors, finishing his speech. "I have y/n, and my nut sack? Is made of steel. I am not dyin' until I am damn good and ready."
What a dork. My dork. I thought, looking up at him as he spoke.
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a honeymoon to get to. No one knocks on my door. Simon, you're in charge. Don't make me regret it."
Simon nodded and Negan lead us down the hall to a large door at the end. He held the door open for me as I walked through. A bachelor pad of the apocalypse. Exactly what I imagined. I smiled at him and he returned the gesture, flashing his white smile before he walked towards me and immediately wrapped me in his arms. My head rested against his chest and I felt his heart beat. For once, I felt safe.
Part 4 here. If you’ve read this far, thank you. 🥹💗
tag list: @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor @dilfsandmartinis @sarahhxx03 @minaxcarter @kukka-roo @rinsdesires @6kaja9 @sasiiik9174
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fbfh · 8 months
Text
older!logan x reader hcs
wc: 1.6k
genre: age gap, sort of sugar daddy logan
warnings: big (but legal) age gap, logan is early 40s reader is like early 20s, brief odette mention, logan is a killer lawyer, rory kinda traumatized Logan lol, I haven't finished gilmore girls or ayitl yet so don't come for me lol, logan is obsessedddddddd with reader, mildly smutty, mentions of marriage and proposals, your relationship progresses really quickly
summary: you were reading in a coffee shop when a charming gorgeous much older guy decided to strike up a conversation. little do you know that within a very short time that same charming stranger will know your dress size, your shoe size, and your ring size.
song rec: off to the races - lana del rey
a/n: the choke hold older logan has on me..... euthanize me at this point lmao
tags @yesv01 @magcon7280
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As with all nsfw works, all characters are aged up to 18+ (like way over 18 in logan’s case lol)
That being said jesus christ let’s dive right into the brain rot
First things first, a little more about Logan
He’s in his early 40’s and aging like a fine goddamn wine
MEGA MEGA dilf vibes
After the whole millions of dollars sunken into a bad investment in his family’s massive media conglomerate mishap, he still faced a lot of pressure to join the family business
But with Rory rejecting his proposal, he felt so fucking down and beaten up by life
He just had two massive blows to his ego back to back
And he needed a win
Then the strangest thing happened 
He just got back from another late night of partying with his friends and switched on the tv so he wouldn’t have to fall asleep with his thoughts, and some random movie was playing
The girl in the movie is at dinner with her boyfriend and thinks he’s going to propose, but he breaks up with her instead
It hits a little too close to home and Logan’s about to switch it off
Then she decides to go to law school to prove herself
He finds himself getting more and more invested in this movie, relating more to Elle with every scene, and by the morning he confronts the idea he’s been shoving away for too long so he doesn’t rock the boat
He talks to his dad and they decide Logan will go to law school, but remain a prominent board member and shareholder of the family company
Mitchum is surprised by how responsible and well thought out Logan’s plan is
He’s forging a path to a very lucrative field - one Mitchum can tell he’s going to be very successful in - while still staying involved enough in the family business 
So Logan goes off to law school, and 20 years later he’s a total shark 
He’s a prestigious, expensive lawyer with a reputation for never losing and a long streak of killing it with really high profile cases
Now the Huntzberger name carries all the weight and power of his father’s media reach, and Logan’s success in the courtroom 
He’s excelling 
And he’s excelling enough to keep his family out of his personal life for a while 
He’s living the bachelor life until he hits 40
That’s when his parents decide it’s really unacceptable that he’s still not married 
So they tell him if he doesn’t get married soon they’ll arrange something
Some french heiress or something 
And Logan finds himself right back where he didn’t want to be
And then, like a gift from god, he sees you
Like I said in my initial drabble, Logan first saw you in a cafe reading some dusty novel no one actually reads like war and peace or crime and punishment or something
He's seen people your age do that before, reading complicated stuffy literature to seem smart and make some pretentious English class commentary that barely makes sense 
So he calls you on it
"War and Peace, huh?"
He’s expecting you to say something fake and pretentious
Some bullshit fake deep pseudo intellectual shit
But you look up at him, only pausing for a moment before you speak
You’re surprised to see such a gorgeous guy in a little cafe like this
Especially one that seems interested in talking to you
And god, the way you talk about it
The way your eyes light up
It takes him by surprise
He's not just interested
He's invested 
You start talking and realize that you've been talking for way longer than you expected to
And he wants more
He wants to know more about you, wants to see you sweet smile and hear your cute little laugh when he says something charming or compliments you
So he takes you out to dinner, his treat 
He guides you out the door and into his Porsche with his hand on your back 
It's a subtle gesture but it makes your stomach flip 
Then he buckles your seat belt for you
If you weren't sold before you sure are by now 
So he takes you to this nice fancy restaurant, wines and dines you, and he is laying on the charm thick
"Oh, come on. A pretty young thing like you must have a boyfriend."
"Really, you have excellent taste.”
You don’t miss the way he’s been eyeing you all night
And he doesn’t miss the way you squeeze your thighs together when he touches your face or plays with your fingers
One thing leads to another and after he pays the bill and leaves a generous tip, you find him ushering you back into his porsche
And yet again he closes your door for you and gets you all buckled in
This time when he drives his hand rests on your knee
He thinks he can handle this
He’s the biggest whore on the east coast /affectionate 
Then you grab his hand and move it up your thigh
There’s no going back now
He’s in just as deep as you are
Before you know it you’re tearing off each other’s clothes
His lips are all over you and motherfucker does he know what he’s doing
He worried for a moment he might have lost his edge
But as he lays you down into his big soft bed, your skin touching his silky sheets for the first time
But definitely not the last
As he finally touches you and feels how wet you are for him
He knows he didn’t peak in college
“Shh, listen,” he says between kisses that make you feel dizzy, “you’re gonna tell me if it’s too much for you, can you do that?”
You nod while he holds your face in his big hands
“You gotta say it,” he chuckles at how sweet you are, how well you respond to him, “use your words, baby…” 
You manage to choke out a desperate yes between kisses that makes his stomach twist
And that is the very beginning to your intense affair with Logan Huntzberger 
He’s desperate to see you again
He sends flowers and a dress and a gorgeous necklace to your apartment
And not the normal amount of flowers
The Logan amount of flowers
So a lot
And you can’t believe your luck finding a hot rich older guy that’s so into you 
You really like this attention
Your daddy issues are SCREAMING
And Logan likes having someone as gorgeous and intelligent and into him as you are
And he wants to do this right
But he’s rapidly approaching the deadline his family set
He doesn’t want to scare you off
GOD that’s the last thing he wants
But he is terrified of proposing and having it end up like it did the last time
Eventually he works up the nerve to talk to you about it 
He’s explaining everything to you while you pay your bills 
But it says they’re already paid
And your credit cards are paid off
And your debt has just disappeared
Even your student loans are gone
And there’s a fat deposit in your checking account 
He paid off all your debt and didn’t tell you
By the time he’s done explaining that you basically either need to get married asap or you can’t see each other anymore he still hasn’t brought it up
And you realize he’s not going to
He didn’t pay your bills to guilt you into anything
He’s not holding it over your head
He’s taking care of you
And all you’ve ever wanted is someone who will take care of you
Logan is surprised when you agree
But he’s even more surprised at how fast you agree
You sit in his lap and end up rambling about how much you love him, how you don’t think you’ll ever find anyone you like as much as him or anyone that treats you as well as he does
To no one’s surprise the conversation ends with him taking you on every surface of your apartment
Hours later you’re cuddling naked on your couch, resting your head on his muscular chest and listening to his heartbeat
“So like… are we engaged now?” you ask looking up at him
He laughs sweetly
“No, not yet. I have to actually propose first.”
You think back to your conversation earlier when you first said you’d want to marry him
“So that didn’t count before?”
His heart breaks at how little you ask for
“No, that didn’t count.” He kisses your head, “I’m going to take you out somewhere nice, give you a proper proposal, with a nice ring.”
You get butterflies thinking about it
You can’t believe how much he does for you
How much he wants to do for you 
You’re quiet for a moment, and he can feel you smiling into his chest
“...Okay.” 
Your voice is so small and bashful, and he can hear you suppressing a flustered giggle
Fuck he can’t get enough of you 
He laughs and pulls you closer, grabbing your chin and makes you look up at him so he can kiss you 
You fall asleep in his arms
And you think that you won’t mind being married so young if it’s Logan you’re marrying
Logan is looking at you with so much love and adoration
And right before he falls asleep 
He thinks that maybe it’s not too late for him to find love after all
635 notes · View notes
nekassvariigs · 1 year
Text
I saw someone having a post mentioning if a character from one piece would be certain about age gaps so here i am in a silly goffy mood.
ーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーー
Idea: Waking up/Walking around not realising youre wearing a shirt saying "Dilf patrol" and going out on the ship/certain places causing some interesting conversations.
Raighley, Shanks, Mihawk, Law, Kid, Doflamingo
Special addition: Bepo for cuteness
I know kid and law arent dilfs but theyre fun to write
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Kid
Way too busy to notice it at first until someone points it out.
Hes flabbergasted.
"Into experianced men huh?" he comments brows furrowed in question.
It took you a while to register.
"I know i dont qualify as one but give me a few years."
You couldnt be more embarrassed, not to say anytime he asks you to stand on lookout he'll yell "DILF PARTROL" full blast embarrassing you each time.
If hes into you he'll paint over one of his shirts the words "certified dilf" while working on his gagets. If you catch him in the act give him a sly smirk and run for your goddamn life.
However if you both happen to wear it at the same time again its now your turn to shout over the entire ship "DILF SPOTTED" the moment you see him. You'll distract him so horredusly he wont be able to unhear it for the next week.
At some point you both take a picture, altough the main focus is you zooming in on his tits where the label he drew on was.
"Let me see the photo."
You show it to him proudly and prepare for self defense.
"You little shit." hed scoff ,however his ego was lifted that hed certified dilf material.
Doflamingo
This pink flamingo has been walking around you all morning trying to be subtle.
It was getting on your nerves.
"Can you ATLEAST pretend that your subtle, Youre like 10 meters tall dude you wear a PINK FEATHER COAT."
"So?" He picks his teeth with a toothpick.
"Why are you following me?"
"Your shirt."
"What about it?" you get more annoyed by the second.
"Not your dresscode madamoiselle?" you give him a fake smile with your eyes.
"Ha..Hahaha..HAHAHAHA, i must send this to the navy." He takes a photo.
"Fuck do you mean send it to the navy?!"
"Look, i can already hear "it's the dilf parol woman" with your face plastered all over it."
Oh he really was pushing it huh.
With a loud FWAP the shirt lands flat on his face right on the centered plastered with the writing.
"I think they'd like this one better."
You show him the picutre. There he is this wooden shelf for a man in his pink ridicilous coat with his face covered in a shirt thats says "Dilf patrol" boldly.
"My ass im gonna let you have your way with it."
Onsues a battle between two idiots.
Nearing your defeat you splur out "Y'know if you had a kid you'd qualify for it."
"Huh- Yeah right."
"Im dead serious."
"..."
"Time to take one for the team." He said confidently.
Raighley
Usually you stay over at Shakky's rip-off bar having known the owners well half owner Raighley. You never managed to catch his wife on time however, she was always out so one good day you treated yourself to a hands on barman experiance pouring yourself a drink, mind you its late so its okay.
Whilst mixing your drink you hear the front door open Raigley in sight he catches a seat.
"One whiskey on the rocks ma'am." he gets cozy until seeing you prepare your drink. You shake the mixture the tshirt you wore frurrowing all sorts of ways.
"?" He sees something written on it.. not fully tho, so he'll take a another peek in a bit.
Your drink made, you start his grabbing some ice and whiskey for the foxy man.
"Here ya go~" you happily chirped at him offering his drink.
It wasnt until you were mid drink he said "Say would i qualify as a dilf?"
ah the burning sensation of choking on alcohol.
"What?" you ask him barely able to breathe.
"You know, I mean not to shoot myself in the foot i do happen to look good for my age." he takes a swig of his drink calmly.
"F-First off, where is this coming from? Second off what!?" You stutter, Raighley barely dared being so cocky, and now all of a sudden this!? Did he hit his head?
He doubles the K.O pointing to your shirt at which you stare down, immidiatley embarrased for showing your interest in older men un such a dumb way.
Cheeks blazing you admit defeat, giving him a thumb up weakly.
"You're overqualifed.."
"That so?" He smirks hand on his beard in question.
Now confidently you humm altough your legs were giving out.
Who woulda thought you had one of the hottest man, not to mention the most humble one around teasing you like this when youre compleatley unprepared.
[continuation awaits ( ̄^ ̄)ゞ]
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Law
Poor guy was hoping to eat his meal in peace when you come in theough blazing the words dilf patrol on your shirt.
He literrally chokes.
"You alright capitan?" you ask him.
He swallows dryly, "Yeah..." he stares at you, then at the writing, then at you,the writing and at you for the last time.
"Y/n-ya, You know our crew mostly has guys around the age of 20, right?"
"Riight.. , point being?" you curiously ask.
"Point is WHO ARE YOU PATROLING FOR?!" Not gonna lie he was determined to know.
"!!?" Shocks sets in as you realize what youre wearing.
"Haha oh this thing, well you know give it a few years everyone will be aprooved, even you Law." you chuckle lips pointing in a whistle like manner.
He mentally stopped until he lowered his cow-print hat lower over his face, continuing eating without furter comments.
Hoo... Oh my.
"C-Capitans blushing!" Bepo alerts everyone in the dining hall. Startling you and Law himself.
"Was not, shut up!"
"I'm sorry!" he bows apologizing.
"Well in anycase we have time dont we?" You chuckle pouring yourself some tea.
Few meters behind you you hear more bickering about "Dont joke about this!" et cetera.
Mihawk
The silent man was trying to enjoy a morning newspaper till perona started babling to him about you.
"Whats the issue?" the blandly replies.
"Have you seen what shes wearing its not cute at all!" she pouts pointing to you , a pastry in your mouth the shirt revealing the writing.
Lightning stuck in his head.
"We all have preferances.."
He didnt want to even think about it.
"Thats right, we all have preferances" you pouted back disagreeing with her.
"Of all things you choose old hot guys seriously!? Pick something cuter next time!"
Bwaaa~ You drop your pastry.
"Who says i like old hot guys?"
"Your shirt says.." He nonchalantly interrupted.
"Ah so it does, WHAT?!" You strech out your shirt noticing the writing 'Dilf patrol'
"As long as she can handle it, i see no issue." He adds in.
Your jaw dropping, how can he be so relaxed about this.
"Stop embarrasing her old man-"
The bell dings in everyones head striking a nerve.
Everyone locks eyes.
Silence follows.
It was the tensest breakfast youve ever had with the two of them.
After breakfast you chose to clean the dishes upon hearing a knock.
"Not my buisness, but good choise." And he leaves just like that.
No dishes were washed for the next 30 minutes out of sheer incapability to understand his approval.
Shanks
All bark all bite he doesnt hold back.
He digs the shirt, calls it trendy,odd but trendy, hes seen worse.
"Y/n, i qualify."
"For what?"
"You can count me as a dilf, no?"
Your brain shortcircuts.
"Well.." You eye him up and down making him wait impatiently.
"I mean sorta? Youre not really the hot DAD material are you? "
"I can be though." he shoots you a grin.
"Caaan you?" you hiss back at him.
"Wanna seee for yourselllf?"
[Continuation awaits ( ̄^ ̄)ゞ]
Bepo!
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You had just woken up having no actual shirt to wear from your regulars you scramped one from the dryer. You didnt even bother to check which one it was you had agreed to train with bepo.
"Goodmornin'. " Hes as polite as ever.
"Mornin' bepo, lets start some warm ups?"
You both proceed to train along eachother however the longer it lasted the more people gathered around you two.
"Whats this about?" You question wiping the sweat off your forehead with your shirt.
"Mm Maybe because youre wearing that today?" ,his fluffy paw points to your shirt.
Every guy in a 10 meter radius was giving you thumbs up making you red as a raindeers nose.
"Y/n, whats a dilf anyways? Some new monester out there?" He innocently asks
"Haha y-no?, Do you wanna know?"
He nodds.
"Well its a preferance for older attractive looking men that have kids or had kids who grew up."
"So.. Do you like ..." he was deep in thought..
He didnt know what to ask.
"Ah mabye Vice capitan Ben?"
Pffttjfjfhdha
"Dont think hes got kids, but hes attractive so i approve." You wipe ur nose at the thought.
Next day Bepo shows around with a shirt labeled
"Shaved ice patrol."
What an innocent creature..
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hrh-prince-butt · 10 months
Text
alex and henry plan to dress up as barbie and ken for an upcoming costume party, but they can't seem to agree on who should be barbie and who should be ken...
(hello this is possibly the dumbest thing i've ever written, and i have no regrets, it was so much fun to write)
-
“You can’t deny the Kenergy, babe.” 
“You’re right,” Henry shoots back. “I can’t. And if anyone has it, it’s you.” 
Alex crosses his arms and glares stubbornly at Henry. Henry glares right back, just as goddamn stubborn. Looks like they’re in a stalemate. 
There was no argument that they absolutely had to dress up as Barbie and Ken for their couples costume this year. It had practically been telepathically agreed upon before they even left the cinema. Apparently, the hard part is agreeing on who should dress up as who.
Alex had thought it was obvious that he should be Barbie. But when he brought up speculations about his costume - should he copy an outfit from the movie or figure out something of his own? - Henry had frowned and said he thought he was supposed to be Barbie. 
“Just face it, sweetheart,” Alex says, patting Henry on the shoulder. “You are clearly the Ken to my Barbie.” 
Henry huffs. “How am I the Ken to your Barbie?”
“Well.” Alex leans back on the couch and gestures to himself. “I’m the successful career person, and you are my hot blond accessory. Obviously.” 
“Unbelievable,” Henry says. He sounds genuinely offended. “David, are you hearing this?” David the Beagle lifts his head lazily at the sound of his name, but finding no imminent threat and no promise of treats, he goes back to napping on the couch. 
“All this time,” Henry goes on, and Alex can tell he’s really amping up the theatrics now, probably working up to a dramatic monologue of some kind. “I thought you liked me because of my intelligence, my wit. I thought I was more than just a pretty face, but no. Apparently I’m just some attractive himbo boytoy to you. Utterly unbelievable.” 
He punctuates this absolute scene with a very undramatic bite of chocolate chip cookie. This batch is his third attempt, and Alex has to admit they aren’t terrible. They are overbaked and therefore rock hard - Henry’s annoyed chewing can probably be heard halfway down the street - but they’re already miles better than the last batch. Alex thinks it best not to speak of the last batch.  
“I can’t believe you just called yourself a ‘himbo boytoy’.” Alex is wheezing with laughter, and Henry’s stubborn chewing, his failing attempt to look dramatically offended while crunching on a cookie the texture of a brick, only makes it harder to stop laughing. “Those are your words, not mine.” 
He deigns not to mention that while he has been busy with important law shit all week, Henry has been busy baking cookies. And being really bad at it. That’s definitely Kenergy. 
Henry sighs and washes down the remains of the tragic cookie with tea. “You’re not seeing my vision, love. You would really make an excellent Ken. And I would make an excellent Barbie.” 
“Damn,” Alex says. “We must already be in Barbie’s Dreamhouse because… uh. Keep dreaming.” 
“That… was a truly terrible comeback.” 
Alex sighs. “Yeah. They can’t all be winners.” 
Henry nods gravely. “I’d say this proves my point. You’re Ken, and I’m Barbie.”
It most definitely does not prove anything. “If you’re Barbie,” Alex says, “then you’re definitely Depression Barbie watching the Pride & Prejudice movie like a million times.” 
Henry apparently doesn’t have a response to that except indignant spluttering. Alex laughs so hard he wakes up David. He almost falls off the couch laughing when Henry responds with: “How dare you, I am clearly Irrepressible Thoughts of Death Barbie!” 
Then they’re both laughing, while David watches them in utter confusion. 
“Alright,” Alex says once he has calmed down. “Fair enough. But we can’t both be Barbie!”
“Why not, though?” Henry counters. 
“It’s a couples costume!”
“Well,” Henry says. “Two Barbies can love each other! It’s the 21st century!” 
Alex tries to sigh but it comes out as more laughter. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “Gay rights for Barbie or whatever. But two Barbies won’t be as recognizable as a couples costume. People will just think we’re two people who independently decided to dress up as Barbie!” 
“Alright.” Henry picks up his phone. “I’m settling this once and for all.” 
“What? Who are you calling?”
That question is quickly answered. The dial tone only rings twice before the call goes through, and Pez’s voice fills the living room. “Well, if it isn’t my second favourite disgraced royal. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Henry wastes no time on niceties. “Pez. Out of Alex and me, who is Barbie and who’s Ken?”
Pez doesn’t even take a moment to consider it. He just says, “Darling, you’re definitely Ken.” 
Ha! Told you, Alex mouths, his face lighting up in a vindictive grin. 
“That is the wrong answer,” Henry tells Pez, whose laughter comes out a little tinny through the phone speakers. 
“Oh come on, you know I’m right,” Pez says. “Or perhaps I just really want to see your boyfriend's magnificent arse in that Barbie-pink pantsuit. You know, the one Margot Robbie wears in the film?” 
More indignant spluttering from Henry. “Pez, you’re on speaker.”
“Oh good, I hoped I was,” Pez replies. “Hello, Alex! I look forward to seeing your Barbie costume. Do come to me if you need help putting it together. Toodles!"
And then he hangs up. Henry glares at the screen like he can magically will Pez to come back and take his side this time. 
“Well, you heard him,” Alex says, not even trying to hide his laughter. 
Henry huffs and shoves the phone back in his pocket. “Well, who made him the expert, anyway?”
“Pretty sure you did, when you called to get his opinion. To, you know-” Alex clears his throat and puts on his best Henry impression- “settle this, once and for all.” 
Presumably at a loss for words, Henry picks up another cookie and, with considerable effort, bites into it. There’s nothing more to say, anyway. They both know Alex has won. 
“Besides,” Alex says, holding up his phone to show Henry the transaction on the screen. “I already ordered the “I am Kenough” hoodie in your size, sweetheart.”
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anonymous-dentist · 5 months
Text
It's a rainy Saturday evening, and Cellbit is alone in his apartment agonizing over his bills yet again (it's hard to pay rent when you're a convicted felon unable to hold a goddamn job.) His dinner is cold and uneaten in front of him, and the news is playing quietly on his phone on the other side of the room: another bank robbery, oh, wow, cool.
Cellbit, as usual, is completely alone. He's an orphan, he has no friends, his neighbors are all either dead or at work. No pets. No one.
He glances up from his bills when there's a light knocking at his door. With one last look at the bullshit in front of him, Cellbit pushes back from the kitchen table with a sigh. He cracks his neck, messes his hair up, grimaces and flattens it again, and then he goes to answer the door.
He opens the door to thin air.
And then he looks down and sees a young boy in an oversized yellow football jersey looking up at him through his hair, a smile on his face.
"Uh," says Cellbit. "Can I help you?"
The boy sticks a chubby hand out, rocking back onto his heels. "Hi, I'm Richarlyson!"
Cellbit only hesitates a little before crouching and sagely accepting the hand and shaking it. (He likes kids, so what?)
"Where are your parents, Richarlyson?" he asks.
Richarlyson's smile only widens in response. "Right here! You're my dad!"
Cellbit laughs, he can't help it. "Yeah, funny."
He stands and puts his hands in his pockets. He looks down the hallway and sees nobody, not even any of the usual rats.
"I'm being serious!" Richarlyson huffs. He stomps his little foot, cheeks puffing out in annoyance. "Here, I'll show you!"
And then he pushes his way into the apartment, ducking past Cellbit and running to hop onto Cellbit's couch. He pulls his backpack off and starts filtering through it without a care.
Oh, God, no.
Cellbit follows Richarlyson in and closes the door behind him, reaching for his phone on the table and closing the news. He can-not have some random runaway kid in his apartment, that's basically a jail sentence already.
"See, once upon a time there were all these fairy tales, right?" Richarlyson asks. He pulls a hoodie- blue, oversized- from his backpack and tosses it aside. "But then they all disappeared!"
"Fairy tales," Cellbit politely says. "Right."
"But I know what happened to them! The Evil King made them all lose their memories, including-"
"Don't you mean the Evil Queen?"
Richarlyson frowns. "Don't be sexist."
Cellbit blinks, mildly taken aback. His finger hovers over the phone app, ready to call the police. When Richarlyson isn't looking at him.
"Anyway," Richarlyson continues, turning back to his backpack, "as I was saying, the Evil King cast a spell and made everybody forget who they were, including you."
...So maybe Cellbit should call an ambulance instead.
But, before Cellbit can try anything, Richarlyson makes a triumphant noise and pulls a big, heavy-looking storybook out of his backpack. He hops off the couch and runs to Cellbit, holding the book out for him to take.
Cellbit looks at the book, and then he looks at the kid, and then he looks at his phone and starts calling the police.
Richarlyson shouts and slaps the phone out of his hand. "No! Listen to me!"
Cellbit scowls and bends down to pick his phone up. "I'm calling your parents."
"Are you deaf?" Richarlyson demands. He smacks Cellbit hard upside the back of his head with his book. "I just said you're my dad!"
Cellbit yelps and clutches the back of his head, still crouched. He glares at the kid.
"I don't even know you," he says.
"Yeah, because the Evil King made you not know me. He made everybody forget, and now everybody is in danger! You need to come help everybody before it's too late!"
"I'm not a hero," Cellbit tells him. He snatches his phone up again, finally. "Which of your parents can I call? It's either them or the police, and I do not want to deal with them tonight."
(Especially not after they caught him trying to feed the stray cats outside of the bus station earlier that evening, ouch, he's going to be sore in the morning...)
Richarlyson's eyes light up. "You're a criminal? Cool!"
"Not cool. Crime is not cool."
(It is.)
"You're supposed to be a hero, though," Richarlyson muses. He frowns again, thoughtful. He drops to the ground, cross-legged, and he opens his book and starts flipping through it. "I remember reading that."
Okay, no phone number from the kid himself. That's fine. Cellbit likes to fancy himself a bit of an amateur detective (he's played enough Ace Attorney for it, anyway.) He can find the number himself.
While Richarlyson reads, Cellbit sneaks around him and tiptoes to the couch. Picking up the kid's abandoned backpack, Cellbit starts silently going through it looking for any kind of identification- a bus pass, a school I.D., anything.
"What's your last name?" he asks.
"Dunno," Richarlyson responds, nose deep in his book. "None of my dads really have one. Unless you do?"
He looks up, wide-eyed and hopeful.
Cellbit carefully hides the backpack from view.
"Legally, no," he answers. "But you should know that if you're really my son."
Richarlyson glowers. "It's not my fault the Evil King sent you all the way over here instead of letting you stay with us!"
'Us', okay, that implies a family. That's a good start.
Cellbit relaxes against the back of the couch. "With you, you and your mom?"
"Nope, me and Pai Forever and Pai Felps and Pais Tazer e Craft and Mãe Bagi."
Cellbit blinks. "So I'm not your father."
"No, you are. Now shush, I'm researching."
Richarlyson puts his finger to his lips; Cellbit acquiesces, miming pulling a zipper across his lips.
Speaking of researching...
Cellbit starts rummaging through the backpack again. Now that he has some names to work with, it'll be easier to find some kind of identification, right?
His hand brushes against a hard piece of plastic tucked into the backpack's front-most pocket. Bingo.
Pulling it out, Cellbit looks it over until he finds a 'Forever' and an address, but no phone number.
Quesadilla City, hmm. That's unfamiliar.
"Found you!" Richarlyson announces.
He runs to Cellbit's side, book clutched to his chest. He hops onto the couch and sits next to him, legs swinging as he places his book in his lap.
Cellbit has always been a painfully curious man, so he can't help but look down and see what fairy tale Richarlyson has decided he is.
His face falls.
Puss-in-Boots.
"Yeah, no," Cellbit scowls. He stands and drops Richarlyson's backpack onto the floor, heading to the kitchen to grab his jacket off of the back of a chair and his keys from off of the counter. "You're going home. Get your stuff."
"So you're gonna help?" Richarlyson asks. He does, at least, start packing his bag up again.
"No, I'm taking you home, and then I'm coming back here to my home so my landlord can kill me when I don't pay my rent this month."
"What, you're broke?"
"I'm not discussing my financial situation with a child."
"Even though I'm your son?"
Richarlyson scurries to the door, waiting for Cellbit to open it before rushing out into the hallway.
"You aren't my son," Cellbit sighs. He shuts and locks the door behind the two of them, already grimacing at how much he'll have to pay for gas trying to get Richarlyson to wherever Quesadilla City is. "I've never even had a partner."
"Not here, you haven't."
Cellbit trips over his own shoelace, bristling at Richarlyson's giggle.
"Come on, let's go! You've got a world to save!"
Cellbit yelps as Richarlyson grabs him by the arm and starts pulling him out of the building and towards the parking lot.
Fairy tales, yeah, right. Cellbit's lived long enough to know better than to believe in happily-ever-afters, let alone evil kings or fantasy curses. Happy endings aren't real. Especially not for him.
-
Or, the Once Upon a Time AU
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vintageshanny · 1 month
Text
Waiting for Love - Part Eight
Healing Hands
Content: February-March 1971 (this picks up right where it left off 😉), smut, fluff, tiny bit of angst, references to some possible health issues, 18+
Catch up here: Waiting for Love series
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Mid-Februay 1971
“Oh, Elvis, oh, Elvis, oh God…”
Elvis looked down at Vivien’s face, her lips softly moaning his name over and over as he inched his way inside of her. He could feel her involuntarily clenching around him as her hands gripped the bedsheets. “Ya okay, baby?” he asked tenderly, pausing his movements. Vivien nodded, searching his face for some reassurance. “Honey, I want ya to wrap your arms around me, okay?” Elvis felt Vivien release her grip on the sheets and move her clammy palms to his back. “That’s right, baby, jus’ hold on ta me. Try ta relax and I’ma go in a little deeper, okay?”
“Okay, I’m relaxed, I’m relaxed,” Vivien whispered, trying to sooth herself, her fingernails running softly down Elvis’ back toward the curve of his butt. “Elvis, I want you so bad, I want you all the way inside of me.”
Elvis stifled a groan at her words, it was all he could do not to explode right then and there. He resumed his slow advance, feeling the friction of his foreskin against her tight opening as he pushed deeper inside until he was completely consumed, her wetness coating every inch of him. “Goddamn, Vivien, it feels so good in there,” he moaned out, rolling his hips, thrusting as gently as he could.
Vivien felt almost delirious with pleasure as she allowed herself to rock back and forth in rhythm with Elvis. The words flew past her lips almost faster than her brain could form them. “Oh God, Elvis, oh my, I can’t, oh God, it feels so good, I’ve never felt so good, oh God you’re so amazing…”
Elvis smiled down at the look of pure ecstasy on Vivien’s face, taking some pride in his ability to make her feel so good. “Honey, did ya, I-I mean, are ya havin’ an orgasm already?” He continued his thrusting, the intense passion of his movements growing, little beads of sweat now trickling down from his hairline.
“I, I don’t know, I’m not sure, it just feels so good,” Vivien panted, trying to get a handle on all the sensations happening in her body. Elvis reached down to where their bodies were connected and rubbed her clit with his thumb, applying a little pressure to it. Vivien’s back immediately arched, her legs shaking on either side of him. “Oh, Elvis,” she cried out, her head tilted back into the pillows. Elvis tried to stay in control as her pleasure gushed over him, but the feeling of her fluttering around him as she moaned his name was just too much to bear. With one final thrust, he could feel himself pulsing inside her, filling her up with everything he had to give.
Ah shit, I should’ve pulled out, he thought to himself as he rested his body on top of Vivien’s, Little Elvis starting to soften inside of her. The thought of any consequences for his actions was clouded by the depth of love he felt in this moment. As he slowly eased himself out of the warm hold Vivien had on him, he noticed the tears that were sliding down her cheeks.
“Honey, what’s wrong? I-I-I didn’t hurt ya, did I?” Elvis asked nervously.
“No, no, it’s not that, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying. I mean, wow, that was incredible, it’s just everything feels so intense.”
Elvis smiled as he leaned down and pressed his soft lips against hers. “I thought it was incredible too, honey. That was such a sacred gift ya gave me. I-I-I’m honored that ya gave yourself ta me like that. It’s okay if ya need ta cry, baby. I understand how special that was. It was special for me, too. I love ya so much, Vivien.” Suddenly overcome, Elvis blinked and glanced away before his own tears could spill over.
“I love you too, Elvis.” Vivien pulled him close, holding his body tightly against hers until her tears subsided.
“Lemme get ya cleaned up, baby,” Elvis said as he finally lifted himself off the bed. “Although I hate ta leave those nice pillows ya got,” he said with a wink. Vivien giggled through her tear-stained face as she shyly tried to cover her breasts. Elvis disappeared into the bathroom and came back wearing a pair of briefs and carrying a warm wet washcloth and a silky pink nightgown. He gently wiped between Vivien’s legs with the cloth and then helped her slip into the nightie. “Now c’mere and hold me, sweetheart,” he said, patting the bed next to him.
“Actually, first I have to, um, I mean I think I need to…pee,” Vivien whispered, her face turning red.
Elvis let out a loud guffaw. “Honey, we jus’ made love to each other, I think you can say the word ‘pee’ in front of me.” Vivien laughed at herself too as she headed for the bathroom.
She came out to see Elvis reaching for a bottle of pills on the nightstand. “Is everything okay?” she asked worriedly.
“Yeah, baby, I’m healthy as a horse,” Elvis said reassuringly. “I jus’ get so keyed up from performing that I need a lil’ help fallin’ asleep.”
“Well, I could help you fall asleep,” Vivien grinned.
Elvis paused, the pill bottle in his hand, before setting it back down with a slight nod. “Okay, we can give it a try. What magic tricks ya got up your sleeve?”
Vivien cleared her throat nervously, hoping she wouldn’t sound like an idiot. “I’ve, uh, been reading about the power of touch. Physical touch, especially from someone you love, can have calming, healing properties on your body. So I could give you a massage and see if it helps you fall asleep.”
Elvis looked excited and intrigued. “I’ve read a lot about that too! I actually tried a technique on Jerry when he hurt his back. Okay, let’s see if it works on me.”
“You should really take those back off, though,” Vivien said, nodding toward his underwear.
“Oh, I don’t know about that, baby. I-I-I mean, he gets a little shy after a performance,” Elvis laughed self-consciously.
“I think the touching would be more effective with no barriers between your skin and my hands, but I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anything. And I’ll be trying to relax you, not turn you on,” she added, her cheeks turning pink.
“Honey, you ain’t gotta try too hard, that’s the problem,” Elvis teased. “Okay, I must really like you, cuz I don’t let jus’ anyone look at me like this.” Elvis pulled his underwear off and lay back on the bed completely nude.
Vivien climbed up next to him. “Well I must really like you too, because I don’t give just anyone a full body massage.” Elvis chuckled at that and squeezed her hand. “Now close your eyes,” she instructed. “And try to just clear your mind and breathe evenly.” She started rubbing his arms, his hands, and then worked her way down toward his legs, massaging the muscles in his sturdy thighs. He lay there peacefully, trying to breathe steadily as she’d instructed. Vivien felt almost guilty looking at him in this vulnerable state, but she couldn’t help but admire his thick soft cocoon nestled in his patch of pubic hair and the wiry little hairs that decorated his inner thighs.
“Honey?” Elvis mumbled, sounding half-asleep already. “I can feel ya starin’.”
Vivien blushed profusely and wondered how he could see her with his eyes closed. “I’m sorry, I thought you were asleep. I wanted to give him a goodnight kiss, but I didn’t want to ruin your relaxation.”
Elvis snorted a little bit and opened one eye to look at her. “Ya wanted ta give him a goodnight kiss?”
VIvien’s face flushed hotter with each passing second. “I’m so sorry, that sounds stupid,” she whispered, hoping he would think this had all been a dream.
“Naw, honey,” he mumbled, closing his eyes again. “I think it’s sweet that ya love him so much. Not ever’one’s like that. It’s a little weird, but sweet.” A teasing grin spread across his sleepy face. “You can give him a little kiss, but don’t wake him up or this will all be for nothin’ cuz he’ll wanna get back in where it’s nice and soft and warm.”
Vivien blushed and leaned down, pressing her lips very gently to his velvety soft skin. The smile still spread across Elvis’ face told her that he enjoyed the attention, no matter how much he might tease her about it. She continued to massage his legs until a very light snoring sound let her know he was asleep this time. She pulled the blanket over the two of them and rested her head on his chest, letting the steady beat lull her to sleep.
*************************************************
“Honey, I did really appreciate the massage last night, it was really nice, but I need ta take these.” Elvis could see the way Vivien eyed the pill bottle suspiciously as they got ready to lay down for the night. Elvis had needed to mingle with some special guests after the show, so they hadn’t had much time alone together, but she could see he looked exhausted.
“But we could just try it again-”
“Dammit, Vivien, is this gonna be a problem? Me takin’ the medication I need?” Elvis snapped.
Vivien flinched at the anger in his voice. “No, I’m sorry, I was just trying to help. I care about you.”
A look of guilt flashed across Elvis’ face. “Honey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean ta snap at ya. It’s jus’ that I know what my body needs ta get through these performances, okay? I don’t want ya ta stop carin’ about me, though.”
“I could never stop, Elvis,” Vivien whispered, trying to stop the tears that were welling up.
“Aww, baby, don’ cry now, you’re gonna make me feel bad. It’s okay, honey.” Elvis pulled her into a hug.
“I’m sorry, there’s just a lot of things I’m worried about,” Vivien sniffled. “I’m not sure what to do about my job.”
“Why? What happened?” Elvis asked with concern.
“Um, I didn’t want to tell you and upset you, but I overheard my boss calling me Elvis Presley’s whore,” Vivien whispered, hanging her head in shame. When Elvis didn’t respond, she looked up nervously to see his reaction. The intensity of anger in his eyes was something she’d never really seen before. “I didn’t tell them anything, I swear. But my nosy neighbor might have seen you leaving my apartment…” she trailed off.
“I ain’t mad at ya, honey, I’m mad at that boss of yours. He might jus’ need a good talkin’ to.” Elvis’ voice had a cold, steely edge to it.
“Oh, no, Elvis, I would get fired if you say anything to him,” Vivien pleaded.
“Honey, you ain’t goin’ back there anyhow. No one’s gonna talk about my baby like that.”
“But I need a job, I won’t be able to afford my apartment.” Vivien was starting to regret having said anything at all.
“Baby, I can pay for your apartment, it ain’t a big deal,” Elvis said nonchalantly. “Besides, you’ll be livin’ with me at Graceland soon enough.” Despite all her stress and confusion, Vivien’s heart fluttered at those words. “Now you jus’ leave things ta me baby, I’ll take care of ya. Let’s jus’ get some sleep.” Elvis took his pills and pulled her in close to him, his warm hands holding her tight and secure. As he drifted off, he mumbled something almost incoherent.
“What’s that?” Vivien asked, turning her head toward him.
“Not since mama,” he mumbled. “I think not since mama has anyone loved me for who I am the way you do. I don’t take it for granted, baby. I really love you…” his voice trailed off into a soft snore.
*************************************************
March 16, 1971 - Baptist Hospital in Nashville
Vivien’s stomach was in knots as a nurse led her to Elvis’ room in a private wing of the hospital. Joe trailed behind her, silent and unfriendly as usual. She normally wished that Elvis would have someone else, almost anyone else, make arrangements and pick her up from the airport. But right now she just wanted to make sure he was okay. He said it was nothing to worry about, just an eye problem, but still, a hospital is a hospital.
As soon as she saw him lying in the hospital bed, Vivien rushed to his side and grabbed his hand in hers. “Elvis! Are you okay?” her voice quivered with emotion.
“I’m okay, honey. ‘Specially now that my baby’s here ta take care of me. None of these guys know what I need,” he said, squeezing her hand and nodding toward his crew. Vivien looked around and blushed, as if it had just dawned on her that they were not alone.
“And Priscilla’s taking care of something in Los Angeles,” Joe announced with a smirk.
Elvis’ eyes shot daggers in Joe’s direction. “And I didn’t ask her ta come back early, did I? Why don’t ya make yourself useful for once and go get us some hamburgers?” Joe nodded and turned, looking relieved to leave the line of fire that he’d put himself in. “Ignore that asshole, baby,” Elvis said, turning back to Vivien. “First thing I did when I got in here was call ya ta come be with me. Now get over here.” He patted the spot next to him on the somewhat narrow hospital bed. Vivien looked around shyly at the other people in the room and then back at Elvis. “Don’t worry, honey, they were jus’ leavin’,” he said, waving everyone off.
Vivien climbed into the bed and curled up next to him, snuggled into his body, enjoying the feel of his silky pajamas against her. Before she could protest that someone might walk back in, his lips were smashed against hers, his strong hand gently squeezing her hip. “God, I missed ya,” he said, pulling back with that grin that still made her heart skip a beat. “I’ma need ta bring ya along to the next recording session. Now tell me what ya been up to while I’ve been wastin’ away here without ya.”
Vivien bit down on her lip as she considered her next statement. “Well, um, I’m having a little trouble finding a new job. So Roxanne said I could move in with her if I need to…” VIvien’s voice trailed off as she saw the look of fury on Elvis’ face.
“Why are ya lookin’ for a job and tryin’ ta move? I said I’d pay for your apartment until I can move ya into Graceland with me. Didn’t I tell ya I’d take care of ya?” His tone grew more biting with each word.
Vivien cleared her throat nervously. “Well, yes, you did say that, but Elvis, I don’t know if I could take that money from you-”
“When is ever’one gonna stop tellin’ me how ta spend my own goddamn money?” he snapped. “First Daddy, then Cilla, now this? It’s my money, dammit.”
Vivien had never heard Elvis sound so angry, not even about the sleeping pills in Las Vegas. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to take advantage of your kindness,” she whispered, trying in vain to fight back the waterworks that she knew were coming. She shifted on the bed as the tears started to fall. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I should just go.”
Elvis could see by the pained look on Vivien’s face that he had crossed the line with his temper. He grabbed her wrist, careful not to be too rough. “Wait, honey, wait. Don’t go. I-I-It’s jus’ that ever’one’s been on my case lately. I-I-I shouldn’ta taken it out on ya. I guess I ain’t used ta havin’ someone be worried ‘bout takin’ advantage of me. Usually jus’ got people tellin’ me what ta do.” He laughed hollowly at that as he pulled her back in close to him.
“Well I guess I’m not used to having someone want to take care of me,” Vivien whispered as she laid her head on his chest. “So maybe this is something new for both of us.” She felt suddenly very warm inside, as the hairs that were escaping his pajama top tickled her cheek.
Elvis looked down at her affectionately and kissed the top of her head. “Honey, ya jus’ better get used to it, cuz all I wanna do is take care of ya. I’ve done a pretty good job so far, huh?” he teased as he let his hand slide down her hip to her thigh and then back up under the hem of her short skirt. His fingertips danced along her bare flesh. “Is that why I can feel your heart poundin’ right outta your chest, hmm? Ya thinkin’ ‘bout me takin’ care of ya?” Vivien nodded and blushed, wondering how he always seemed to know what she was thinking. “Y’know what I’m thinkin’, honey? It sure would be nice ta feel those healin’ hands of yours again. And this time ya ain’t gotta worry ‘bout wakin’ no one, cuz he’s all ready ta come out and play.”
“I can tell,” Vivien laughed as she looked down at the protruding part of his pajama pants. Elvis leaned down and caught her open mouth with his, letting his tongue taste hers before biting softly on her lower lip, eliciting a sweet moan. “No one could take better care of me than you,” she whispered, diving back in for more of his sweet kisses. As his fingers found the elastic leg band of her panties and continued to tease her, she let her hands wander under his pajama shirt. His soft warm skin felt so comforting. Right as she reached one hand into the waistband of his pants, Joe came barging in with the hamburgers.
“Jesus Christ, son, ya forget how ta knock?” Elvis exploded, looking to make sure Vivien was all covered up. She was frozen in place, her hand still tucked inside his pants. “Leave that on the table and get the hell out, man.”
“Sorry boss,” Joe muttered, actually looking a little embarrassed instead of like his usual smug self.
“Now where were we?” Elvis murmured, turning back to Vivien. “Oh, that’s right, about ta work up a good appetite.” Vivien giggled and wrapped her hand around his hard length as Elvis slipped his tongue in her mouth again, each kiss growing more passionate. She was so deep in love, she couldn’t possibly concern herself with what anyone else might think about it.
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delphi-dreamin · 1 year
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Delphi darlin', I simply must know: What do you headcanon to be the brothers' favorite sex positions? Maybe pick up to 2 for each, in case you can't decide.
-SK😈👑
Sassy, my love, light of my life...You must be trying to kill me. Because, sweet hell, I about sublimated reading that. I can't even begin to describe how red my face is right now. But y'know what? That's okay. We're gonna have some fun on this most horniest of nights.
All right, kids, buckle in. Because it's getting hot in here, that's for damn sure. 🥵
(AFAB reader, mentions of somnophilia, breeding kink, mating press, exhibitionism, mirror sex, pegging)
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Belphegor
Let's start with the youngest for once. Belphie is a sleepy boi. We all know this. He likes to let you take the wheel and do most of the work. Cowgirl/Reverse Cowgirl are perfect for that! He gets to watch your tits or ass jiggle while you fuck yourself dumb on his cock and he only has to put in the minimum amount of effort. It's honestly a dream come true.
Speaking of dreams, though...I also headcanon that he has no qualms with you waking up stuffed full of him as long as you have no qualms with it. And so spooning comes into play. Maybe he lifts your leg, maybe not, but he loves how well you respond to him even in your sleep.
Beelzebub
Beel knows he's bigger than you're used to. He knows that he could easily hurt you, and he never wants that. This sweet boy is going to take his time working you open so that you can take every inch of him. He likes to lay you out of the kitchen counter with your knees over his shoulders to start.
But it's when he takes you upstairs to him room and puts you in a mating press that he really gets worked up. It's the way he's able to rest his hips against yours, how his tip kisses your cervix with every thrust, the thought of filling you to bursting with his seed...
Asmodeus
He has his own bathroom for more than one reason. Asmo enjoys to have sex face-to-face in the bath. The intimacy, the warmth, the wet slide of your bodies against each other as you ride him or he guides your movements, he loves it all.
He also loves sitting you in his lap in front of the full-length mirror in his room. Having you watch where he disappears into you, how your fluids combine and make a mess of his silk sheets. He likes to watch how your tits jiggle with every thrust and the beautiful expressions you make when you moan his name.
Satan
Satan's a goddamn freak, okay? You have the option to fuck him in front of not one, but TWO of his brothers. He has no qualms. None whatsoever. I fully believe he'd bend you over the dinner table in front of God and everybody just to show them that he can. That said...he likes to bend you over. Tables, desks, study carrells in the library, the back of the couch in the HoL library (while Lucifer is in his office, of course), you name it. The best part? At least one of you can read while he does.
Jokes aside, Satan is also a hopeless romantic and I think he'd also enjoy lotus. Sitting with you in his lap, your arms and legs wrapped around him, foreheads touching as he rocks into you slow and deep...
Levi
Sweet Levi. He really, really, really wants you under his desk, sucking him off while he games. He's so red and stuttering so bad the first time he asks, but after that, he starts to get bold and will gently push you under the desk and spread his legs.
I also think Levi is another one who would enjoy spooning. Poor thing is so anxious most of the time that I don't think he'd be comfortable with eye contact at first. So, you facing away from him is the way to go. He can hold you close, maybe even wrap his tail around you, touch you to his heart's content, but he doesn't have to be nervous about you watching him.
Mammon
He likes to fuck you in his car. Full stop. Doesn't really matter the position as long as you're in his car with your pants off. He really likes to put the seat back and have you ride him, though.
Mans is also a massive switch. Like. Switchiest switch to ever switch. As such, he enjoys when you peg him. Either bent over his couch or pool table, or with his legs over your shoulders in bed. (Call him a good boy, too. He might combust.)
Lucifer
I'm probably gonna catch some flak for this, but this man is the horniest motherfucker in the game and he is ready to fuck as soon as you are. Whenever, wherever, however, he is down. Now, that being said...
One of Lucifer's favorite pastimes is spreading you out on his desk with the door open for all of his brothers to hear. It's especially fun when they've been a particular nuisance lately, as it serves the dual purpose of letting off some steam and punishing his brothers. All this with your consent, of course. He's a gentleman, after all.
I also think that Lucifer would be particularly fond of lotus or face-off. One where you can move at your pace and he can worship you, but that he can still take over if he wants. He thinks you're absolutely perfect and he likes to be able to show you. Face-to-face positions are perfect for that.
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atinylittlepain · 1 year
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I got love in my tummy and a tiny little pain, joel and no-outbreak like fluffy family time with reader joel sarah and ellie 🥹
i took a lil liberty with this sweet request, love. i hope that's ok <3
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Yours and Mine
no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader
no warnings, 18 and up tho
.......................
“And you were worried they wouldn’t get along.” Joel glances over his shoulder from where he’s stirring pasta sauce on the stove, eyebrow cocked.
“Sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you over all the goddamn noise.” She has to laugh, the sound mixing up with the music coming from upstairs, an intrusive guitar riff blaring through the whole house. Now that they’ve officially moved in together as a family, it’s become Ellie’s and Sarah’s after-school routine to charge upstairs and immediately start playing rock music as loud as the poor CD-player can handle. And they said this blended family stuff would be hard. Not with the power of tween girl’s shared love for Avril Lavigne it’s not. 
“Girls! Dinner’s ready!”
“Seriously? Curtis and Viper Two? Can’t we pick something else out?” “Oh c’mon, mom. It’s a good movie.” Joel grins at Ellie’s exclamation, holding out his hand for a fist bump that she gladly reciprocates.
“Yeah, what she said.” She lets out a huff at them, sitting back on the sofa and turning her head toward Sarah who looks equally unamused at the movie selection.
“I feel your pain. Dad’s been making me watch these movies since before I could walk.” 
“Hey, I thought you liked them.” Joel leans over her to look at his daughter, brow furrowed. Sarah just shrugs.
“Alright, alright, we’ll watch your blood and guts and guns movie tonight. But Sarah and I get to pick the next time.” Ellie groans at that where she’s sitting next to Joel.
“Oh god, please don’t let it be one of those rom-coms you like.”
“Hey, I don’t remember you having any problem watching rom-coms with me before.” Ellie rolls her eyes as Sarah nudges her.
“Just for the record, I’m also team rom-com.” She shares a smile with her stepdaughter at that as Joel lets out a huff.
“Are we gonna watch the movie or not?”
“I think this one is out, darlin.” 
“Hmm, so is this one.” Joel lets out a quiet laugh, the thrum of it vibrating through her skin where she’s pressed into his side. To his left, Ellie is fast asleep, head lolled onto Joel’s shoulder. And to her right, Sarah is also conked out, head resting on her thigh where she has curled up on the couch. 
“I’m sorry, I love you, but that movie really was terrible.” It’s a whispered giggle that makes him grumble, playing footsie with her where their legs have tangled up.
“S’better than some nonsense like the Notebook. We’d all be asleep if we watched that.” She lightly smacks his chest at that, his eyes crinkling at her as she scoffs. 
“Sure, Miller, whatever you say. It’s not like you cried when we went to see A Walk to Remember or anything.” Joel just shakes his head at her, pinching her thigh where his hand is resting as she grins at him.
“Enough of that, Miller. We better get our girls to bed, huh?” Our girls. She loves it when he says that.
“You’ve got mine and I’ve got yours.”
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