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the-californicationist · 2 months

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Hey🐻❤ Can i say something ? Yeah ? Sooo

Price and Reader have sex in an abandoned parking lot after going to a bar🍻

That's all I had to say 🙇‍♀️❤

omg hot!!! hope this is kinda what you were looking for. im so sorry for the wait. thank you for being patient with me!

The After Party

The MacTavish wedding was the party of the century, and you were feeling the effects of their pricey Brut champagne. Your husband, John, had stolen a bottle for you, and you were nearly half-done with it, carefully pulling it up to your lips and letting the tiny bubbles pop on your tongue.

Even though it was almost dawn, the party was still raging inside the bar Johnny had rented out. John had taken you aside and whispered into your ear,

“C’mon. Have a smoke with me, missus.”

While the newlyweds were distracted by their guests, so you and the captain had made a break for it, sneaking out of the reception undetected. You smiled, following him out back into the parking lot, admiring his ass in those silky black slacks. He always looked so fit when he got dressed up, even if he hated every minute of it.

John headed to his truck, popping open the door and digging around for another cigar. You leaned against the tailgate, trying to find some relief for your aching feet. John noticed your discomfort,

“Those heels botherin’ you, love?”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Here,” he helped you up onto his tailgate, sitting you on the cold metal, “Let’s sit for a while. Give me a chance to enjoy this.” He wiggled the fat cigar in his hands, smiling at you.

“Aren’t they gonna miss us?” You nodded to the bar, listening to the sound of muffled dance music coming from its bright, glowing windows.

“Ah, I’m sure the happy couple is plenty distracted.”

John hopped up on the tailgate with you, puffing on his cigar, making sure the tip was evenly lit. When he was happy with it, he offered it to you. You took it, sucking the smoke into your mouth and tasting its sweet tobacco and vanilla notes. It was a huge cigar, so too much of it and you’d really be wasted. The champagne was already enough to make your cheeks hot.

You closed your eyes, trying to sober up a bit. John’s hand rubbed your bare back, fiddling with the straps of your low-cut dress as he fussed over you.

“Is my girl a little bevied up tonight? Maybe I should take that bottle back,” he laughed at you, teasing you good-naturedly.

“No,” you clutched the bottle like a prize, playing with him, “Pry it out of my cold, dead hands, mister.”

He held his hands up in mock-surrender,

“Alright, alright. Just don’t blame me when you get into trouble.”

“What trouble?” You took his cigar from him again and purposefully took a long drag, challenging him, trying to goad him into flirting with you.

He fell into your trap, chuckling as he took one of his fingers and traced his way from your sparkling gold necklace all the way down into the cleavage of your dress, making you gasp,

“You know what trouble,” he leaned in for a smoky kiss, stealing his stick back, “My woman, dressed like that, gettin’ sloshed on champagne… I know where this path leads.”

“Oh?” You giggled, running your palm across his heavy thigh, feeling his muscles through the expensive cloth, “Where’s that?”

“I’ll show you.” He raised his eyebrows, getting a little smart with you, and hopped off of the tailgate. He stood in front of you, cigar bitten in his mouth, and used both of his hands to pull you closer to him, forcing your legs apart to accommodate his wide body.

You giggled, letting yourself be man-handled, enjoying every moment of it.

Then, he reached both of his warm hands up under the glittering hem of your dress, tracing up your legs, feeling their shaved smoothness, until he found your hips. John smiled, balancing the cigar expertly on his lips, enjoying the surprised look on your face. His fingers twirled around the straps of your thong, and he pulled it off of you, guiding it over your knees and past your strappy heels, admiring the gold lace that filled his palm.

He brought the panties to his nose and dodged your half-hearted kick as you admonished him,

“John!”

“What?” He was incredulous, “I know this smell.”

He had the audacity to sniff them again, and you smacked him on his chest, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him react. John smiled, recoiling, teasing you,

“Smells like sloshed, horny wife, so it does. Mmm.”

“Oh, my God! What if someone saw you?” You hissed, laughing in pure shock at your husband’s actions.

“And?” He put on a serious face for you then, pocketing your panties, spreading your legs, and tucking his body between them again, getting right up in your face and taking a long pull from his cigar, letting the smoke linger between you, cascading down his full lip. He snarled, “Who’s gonna stop me? Did you see any bloke in there bigger than me? Stronger, hm?”

You shook your head, feeling your heart race with excitement at his sudden dominance. Even if you knew he was just trying to get you riled up, it was working.

“Did you see anyone who would have the bollocks to stop me from touching my woman…” His hands were wandering, rubbing your smooth thigh up and down, pulling on the tight muscle of your calf, “Whenever, or wherever I want?”

You shook your head again, biting your lip, leaning back into the bed of the truck, letting your breasts lift towards his face, taunting him with your skin.

He took one of your shoulder straps and pulled it down, letting it dangle across your arm. As it did, the top of its delicate fabric triangle folded, lower and lower, until the top of your breast was exposed, falling almost as low as your nipple.

His eyes narrowed, giving you a hard stare,

“Give me your hand, missus.”

You held out your hand, palm up, submitting to his whim.

He took it in his and pulled you forward, lowering your arm until your fingers felt the rigid marble cock he was concealing behind his zipper. John pressed your palm on him, flexing his muscle for you, letting you feel his desire.

You were leaning so far over that his face was right by your ear, and he whispered to you, menacingly,

“If I wanted to, I’d have taken you in that bar, and there’s not a fuckin’ man alive who could stop me.”

“So,” you said, staring him down, showing him your fearless hunger, “Take me, then.”

It was his turn to wear a mask of surprise on his face, but it quickly turned to joy. He hopped up into the truck bed with you and pulled you inside, lifting the tailgate closed with a loud slam.

John kept a thick blanket in the truck bed for emergencies, and he folded it up, laying you down on it, making sure you were comfortable. He kissed your neck, but he wasted no time in peeling down the top of your dress, exposing your nipples to the night air. You took the cigar from him so he could suckle on your flesh, leaving little hickies where he wanted to, something for you to admire later.

You smoked his cigar, letting it get you high as your husband fondled you. His mouth was hot and greedy, and you realized John was a little more worked up than you had previously assumed. You could feel him thrusting against you absentmindedly, not realizing he was doing it, rubbing himself against your beaded gown.

You caught his furry jaw in your hands, pulling him away from his delicious work, dragging him up to kiss your mouth. You shared his smoke between you, letting it fill your senses. You’d take a drag in, share it with him, letting it fall into his lips, and then kiss him through it, tasting each other among the warm notes.

“John,” you whispered between his wet kisses, “I need you.”

“Need to work up to it, love. Don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispered, rucking up your dress.

You smiled, knowing he would realize the truth in just a moment. Indeed, as soon as you felt his fingertips dip into your pussy, his eyes shot up in shock and wonder. He breathed in a gasp, dipping his finger into you again, not believing what he was feeling,

“You are so wet for me. Naughty girl. So ready for your man’s cock, hm?”

“I told you,” you kissed him, feeling his finger sink deeper inside of you, drowning in you, “I’m ready for you, John. Don’t make me wait.”

He brought his hand to his mouth and sucked you off of his skin. Then, he went back for seconds, dipping his forefinger into you like you were the batter of a cake, sugary sweet and forbidden.

Then, once he had his fill of your taste, he fumbled with his slacks, raking his black leather belt off in one long pull, letting it clatter somewhere in the metal bed of the truck. His fingers pried open his button and yanked down his zipper, freeing his fat rod and jerking it with his hand.

Unceremoniously, and in a bit of a rush, he mounted you, rucking up your dress even further. You spread yourself for him, wrapping your legs around his strong glutes, feeling them squeeze together to help him thrust into your hungry core.

It was a tight fit, as usual. John was always so heavy and thick; you had a hard time working up to his size. But, you took a deep breath and let your wetness glide him in. His ragged sigh of relief was intoxicating.

“Oh, bloody hell, missus.” He furrowed his brow as if in pain.

“You alright, John?” You tried to relax, but you could feel your body responding without you, pulsing around him with a warm, eagerness.

“You’re warm, baby. Just what I needed. So fuckin’ good to me.”

He ducked his head into the crook of your neck and began to thrust into you, deeper and deeper until he found his end. In the back of your mind, as you gazed up at the sparkling stars, you hoped no one could hear you, but your husband’s earlier dominance made you care a little less. And as he built you up to a frothing orgasm, you found yourself caring not at all.

Suddenly, the music from the bar got louder, and you heard the door slam closed to the bar. John stilled above you, covering you with his body, watching over his shoulder for someone to come by. Your heart was beating hard in your chest, and you gave his cock a squeeze from inside of you, pulling at his shaft with your muscle. He looked down at you, smiling, and gave you a quick pulse in return, teasing you. Both of you were clearly excited about the prospect of being caught.

Footsteps made their way through the gravel lot, the loud jingle of keys, a door opening and slamming shut. Then, their engine revved and they pulled away, leaving you alone again.

“Filthy little thing,” John whispered, picking up his pace again, “Squeezin’ me like that. You tryin’ to get caught, missus?”

“Just wanna make you feel good, John. Want to feel you come in me.”

“Christ,” he lamented, clenching his teeth and fucking you faster, obviously heated by your words and your wet, sticky desire, “Squeeze me again, then. Yeah… ungh… just like that. Keep doin’ that, pretty girl. You’ll get your wish.”

When he thrust into you, you tried to relax, letting his cock slip inside. Then, when he tried to leave, you twisted your muscles against him, pulling him in, trying to milk his come from his swollen head. It was driving him wild. His eyes fluttered, rolling back into his head as he thrust into you, harder and harder, chasing down your orgasm with a vengeance.

He put his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself, growling at you through clenched teeth,

“Suck.”

You grabbed his hand with both of yours, feeling your tits bouncing as he fucked you, holding his fingers in your mouth, and you began to suckle on them dutifully. You could smell and taste your scent, and it was making you feral. You let your tongue loll between his fingers, sucking hard on his sensitive tips, watching his face as his jaw fell slack.

Then, he pulled them away from you and used them to rub against your clit, one finger on either side, making tight circles and teasing you until your legs began to shake.

“Holy fuck,” he said, watching you fall apart, “Such a good girl for me, aren’t ya? Gonna come on me, baby?”

You nodded, plucking at your nipples, squeezing your breasts as they shook from his thrusting.

“Good girl. Come on me. Let me feel it.”

You felt your body go rigid as the bright, flashing pleasure coiled its way into your belly, and you couldn’t help but let out a deep moan. Quick as a flash, John kissed you, letting you moan into his mouth instead of into the night air, quieting you as you exploded underneath him, shamelessly bucking against his hard length as you rode out your pleasure.

He kept kissing you, sucking at your tongue and bottom lip, talking to you through your bliss,

“That’s it. Just what I needed, pretty girl. Love this fuckin’ pussy.”

“I love you, John,” you said, suddenly overwhelmed with your emotions and the deep sensations he was giving you.

It caught him off-guard, and he smiled from it,

“I love you too, baby. You ready for me, hm?”

You nodded, whispering a yes into his neck. He looked at you with a pleading expression,

“Tell me.”

“I need your come, John. Come in me. Fill me up, please. I want you to come in my pussy. I want it running down my legs.”

“Oh, fuck!” He raised his voice just for a moment, but you didn’t care.

As you watched him tumble into his orgasm, shuddering between your legs, nothing would distract you from that gorgeous scene. His face twisted and then relaxed, exhausted from his efforts, a half-smile painted on his lips.

He looked down at you in surprise, breathing heavy and recovering. He slid himself out of you, leaving you with a terrible emptiness. You felt his cream drip from your body, and he wiped his cock on your thigh before he tucked himself back into his dress pants.

John collapsed next to you in the truck bed, staring up at the stars for the first time, resting his head on your breast.

You were wrecked, and you pet his hair, softly soothing yourself with him.

He looked up at you, that playfulness returning to his eyes,

“Runnin’ down your legs, hm?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes,

“Yeah, so? You seemed to like the idea, mister.”

“I do,” he kissed your breast and took your nipple into his mouth, watching you squirm from being overstimulated, “In fact, I think it’s a good idea.”

“You’re not serious,” you gasped.

“C’mon. No one’ll notice.”

He sat up, checked the surroundings to make sure the coast was clear and then helped you up. He lowered the tailgate and helped you stand. Your feet still ached in your shoes, and you had to catch yourself on his strong arm. He steadied you, making sure you were alright before he grabbed your hand and led you back inside.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this, John,” you felt your cheeks blush bright red.

“Be brave, missus. I’ll make it worth your while later.”

His face suggested more of his dirty fun, and you nodded, crossing your fingers no one looked at you too closely.

Luckily, no one had noticed your absence. John helped you into a booth and ordered two more glasses of champagne, sliding into the seat beside you. All night, through the slit of your gown, he rubbed your leg, getting little drops of his come and playing with it on your skin, working you up and teasing you in front of all of your friends, secretly smearing his gift into your thigh.

All night, and during the drive home, you couldn’t keep his hands off of your legs. He kept playing with you, getting bolder and bolder by the minute. When you got into the house, he stripped you, leaving your gown abandoned on the kitchen floor, carrying you straight into the den and laying you on the couch, not even bothering to make it to the bedroom.

He had a burning look in his eye as he commanded you, taking off his clothes as he barked his orders,

“Spread your legs, missus. Let me see you. Wider.”

You did as you were told, your mind reeling from his threatening tone, eager to submit to him again.

“Mm. You are fuckin’ gorgeous covered in my come. It’s everywhere,” he stared at your pussy and your inner thighs with wonder, using his hands to feel the shining fluids coating your skin.

Then, to your shock, he bent to lick you clean, sucking on your folds and lapping at your wet hole, wriggling his tongue deeper and deeper, trying to eat himself out of you.

“John!” You gasped, “What are you — ungh, fuck!”

His fingers fucked you as he ate from you, swallowing what your body gave him, licking up his mess from your legs and lips like a hungry dog, ignoring your cries of protest.

“You want me to stop, missus?”

You shook your head, petting his scalp and scratching your fingers through it.

“Aye,” he grinned, “Didn’t think so. Hope you’re ready for round two.”

If you enjoyed this story, please consider a reblog! Thank you!!

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#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x you #call of duty #john price x female reader #captain john price x female reader #oh captain my captain #ohcaptainchallenge #it's captain season

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buggy-boiii · 17 days

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𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

𝐒𝐨𝐚𝐩 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭

𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭: 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐞𝐱, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐨𝐚𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭..

𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖

The nights were long and lonely ever since I started this job, but it got worse when he left. That stupid chad of a man cheated on me with a lady he found at the bar. Did that year of being together mean nothing to him. Maybe I should've listened to them when they said stay away, but I thought they just wanted me for themselves. I hear a knock at the door and the first thing that comes to my mind is that it's Graves so I hide. I hear a knock again, but with a little more force to it this time.

"I don't have a key since you gave it to super stupid, oh and it's Soap. Ghost is here to, so will you let us in." I hear a man say in a strongly acciented voice. I stand up from the spot I was hiding in and wipe away my tears as best as I can hoping they won't notice. I can see the pissed off look in Soaps eyes as soon as I open the door, and Ghosts clenched his fists.

"Heard that Graves cheated, and we also heard that he was comein' to see you in about 10 minutes. We thought that we'd show him something he never could do." Soap says with a mischievous grin on his face. I look over at Ghost as he works on untying his boots shoe laces. Soap then takes off his shirt revealing his toned abs and biceps. He then pins me to the wall throwing his shirt to the side, and it lands on Ghosts face. The tall Brit gets up and puts his hand on Soaps shoulder.

"Are you ok with doing this darling?" Ghost asks kindly for a brut man like him. His massive hands grab my chin, and make me look at him as he awaits his answer.

"Yeah just go easy I'm still virgin." I say with a red blush starting to dust my cheeks. Soap then kissed my cheek with lust. He was about to say something when the door opened. Graves took one look and was terrified.

"This girl is ours." Ghost said slamming the door in Graves face then turns to look back at us. He walks over to me once more and gently caresses my cheek.

"Where were we? Oh right you said you're virgin, well, we'll have have changed that now won't we." Ghost says his protective ness slowly turning to lust.

"Eh, no promises we'll be easy either." Soap says with most unholy look on his face ever, as he kisses me once more. Ghost then grabs my thigh rubbing it gently. This going to be a fun night for all of us.

Sorry if this was bad it was a thought I had randomly at midnight and found it in my draft.

#cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #x reader #task force 141 #soapghost #soap cod #john soap mactavish #graves cod #cod x reader

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javispunk · 11 months

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Care

Summary: You wanted to surprise Joel with something nice, but a few thieves got the best out of you. Joel was not happy about it, but tries his best to take care of you.

Pairing: Joel x fem!reader

Content/Warnings: Mention of robbery or assault, 18+ smut (somewhat filthy, nothing too crazy) (minors don’t interact!), fingering, unprotected sex, but also pure fluff, soft!joel but also angry!joel.

Notes: Hi! Please excuse any mistake, as english is not my first language! Please feel free to leave any requests you'd like me to write.

You wanted to tell him, you did, but you knew it would be best not to. Something went wrong at the marketplace. You wanted to sell somethings you had laying around your house for some rations and you managed to do it peacefully. On your way back home, two kids stopped you in the street, demanding your reward. You were reluctant at giving it to them, they would be good to both you but specially Joel, who had been a bit ill and extremely tired lately. You wanted to surprise him. But once the two guys held your arms with brut force between their fingers, you gave up. They let you go with a push, and you ended up facing down on the broken stone floor, resulting in a few scratches, barely open wounds, but still noticeable, stinging your skin every time you moved your face.

You continued your way back home, defeated, not by the scratches you now carried, but because you lost everything. You grabbed your keys and opened your front door carefully, trying not to wake Joel up. He was still peacefully sleeping on the bed. You got rid of your outside clothes, covering yourself with a loose t-shirt. You headed over to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. You had a few scratches in the right side of your face, beginning at the high of your cheekbone, ending on the low of your jawline. You opened the tap slowly and grabbed some cloth, wet it and tried to apply some to your face.

“Shit.” You said to yourself, as the stinging got worse. You repeated this process a few times, hoping to not make a lot of noise.

“Hey. You’re home.” You heard Joel behind you, still half asleep, as he rubbed his eyes with one hand. With his eyes still closed from sleep, he slid both his arms, one on each of your sides, wrapping them up and connecting them on your stomach. His cheek rested on top of your head, still sleepy and rocking you gently from side to side, like a slow dancing move.

You panicked. What if he looked straight into that mirror and noticed your face? It was nothing much, but you know he would not like it a tiny bit.

“I am.” You tried to disguise your nervousness with a half laugh. You also escaped his arms quickly, and headed to the kitchen, where you pretended to do something for both of you to eat.

“I ate earlier, you don’t have to make something for me sweetheart.” He assured you while following you through the house.

“I’m just super hungry.” You tried to avoid to look him in the face. But he grabbed you once again from behind, pressing his body weight on your back against the counter. His lips hovered your skin, resting on the nape of your neck where he placed a sleepy kiss. Then your shoulder and after that the side of your neck. It was hard for you to reject his touch, but you were scared he would see you.

“How do you always smell so good?” He asked, more to himself than to you, his mouth still in your neck.

“I shower, Joel. You should try it.” You tried nagging him about it.

“Hm, alright. Got the message.” He started running his hand down between your legs. “Wanna join me in there?”

“I can’t Joel”. Your mouth said something your body didn’t want. You turned your head to the side, so he would have more room to kiss your skin. Your hips slightly pushed to the back, hitting the slight bulge on his jeans. “I really should make us something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry baby. C’mon, I missed you. You’ve been gone all day.” He placed one of his hands inside your shirt, just below your stomach, and the other tried to look for the hem of your panties.

He sent shivers down your spine with every touch you traded. And sometimes you couldn’t run from it, neither wanted to. He’s gonna see it anyway, you thought to yourself. You rapidly put down the hand towel you were grabbing this whole time and turned around to face him, grabbing his neck to pull him closer to you.

You felt him smile into your kiss. “That’s my girl.” You felt his hands each on both your sides, lifting you up to sit you on the counter, you immediately wrapping your legs on his waist.

His left hand touched the base of your chest, going all the way up to the base of your neck, which he wrapped easily with his hand, applying some pressure. You sighed a little. Even moaned his name when he pushed you to him by the throat. His hand caressed, rather feverishly the right side of your face, holding it in place. And that is when you slightly hissed in pain. Too rapid and loud to be just a sign of pleasure.

“What’s wrong?” He asked immediately, trying to analyse your expression, trying to fully wake up from his sleepy haziness. You watched his eyes change as he noticed the slight redness on your face and the change of texture on your skin underneath his fingers. “What happened?” His body language changed completely, not moving an inch from you but analysing you with care. “What?” His voice sounded deeper than before.

You closed your eyes in search for the best words. “Joel…”

“What?” He repeated, reaching forward in your direction while raising his eyebrows.

“It’s nothing!”

“Who did this to you?” He asked, as his body tensed slightly.

“Joel… it’s fine, they were just some kids who thought they were funny, I don’t know-”

“I knew I should’ve gone with you. Why did you insist on going alone, sweetheart?”

You shut your eyes, in defeat. “I sold somethings I didn’t need, and I traded it for more rations for you. It was supposed to be a surprise, and now I have nothing.”

You felt him reach for you hand. “For me? Oh honey, that’s okay. You didn’t have to do that. I’ll just do more shifts over night to make up for it.” He assured you.

“More that those you already do?” You paused, looking him in the eye. “Absolutely not Joel. You’re always tired and your health’s taking a turn, I can see it.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers, sighing slowly.

“Let’s just pretend this didn’t happen.” You pleaded.

“But it did.” His voice got low again. “Seriously, who were they?” He continued asking, analysing the right side of your face.

“I have no idea, I’ve never really seem them around.” You continued, as you grabbed his hand again in yours. “I’m fine, Joel, honestly.” You shot him a smile.

He looked at you with worried eyes, hoping he would bump into these guys and beat them to death. Just the thought of someone hurting you in any way made his skin crawl in horror.

“You’re so stubborn.” He finally spoke. “Please.”

“Help me get them clean.” You gestured to your face. Something lit in his face, realising your request. He got up, sprinted to the bathroom to grab everything he needed. You got out of the kitchen counter and sat on your couch. He came back with wet warm cloths and some medicine to apply to your skin.

“No Joel, it doesn’t even hurt that bad. We are so low on those right now.” You spoke with alarm on your tone when you saw him sit next to you, holding the little package.

He shrugged your hand, getting it out of the way, as you tried to take it from him. “Stop. Let me help you.”

You eased as you looked into his eyes while he compressed wet cloths into your wounds. You’ve seen that face a hundred times but still analysed it with such care each time. His worried brow furrowed, meeting the top of his nose’s bridge. Your stare went down his lips once more, alternating it between them and his eyes every now and then. He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen and here he was, taking care of your scratches, barely visible. You rapidly connect your mouth to his, which took him by surprise. You felt him smile into your lips as he whispered a “okay, let me do this.” and reapplied the cloth to the side of your face.

Your hands pushed his own, guiding them to the sides of your body, as you climbed to his lap, one leg on each side. You were rough on your movements and the pressure you applied on his lap.

“Fuck.” You heard him groan into your open mouth. You continued kissing him, grabbing the back of his neck once more, hoping he would just indulge. “Are you okay?”

“I said I’m fine.” You barely disconnected your lips from his.

“No, honestly, are you-”

“Shut up Joel.” You kept making out with the man below you.

“Yes ma’am.” He mumbled under his breath, as he grabbed your ass with both hands, lifting you up to position you better against him.

You let him feel how wet you were, guiding his hand to part your underwear to the side and sliding his middle and index fingers through your folds. He looked up at you immediately, showing a cocky smile before speaking. “What’s this about?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Seeing you take care of me like that.”

“Oh.” He started, before sliding both his fingers inside you with such ease from how slimy you were. “I’d take care of you for the rest of my life.”

You moaned some curse words into his face, making your mouth fall open to an O as you felt him fill you. He started slow, but picked up his pace while reading your expression. His cocky smile still plastered on his face.

“Faster, Joel.” You didn’t have to say another word. He’d been waiting for this all day. To curl his fingers inside you so deep it would hit your spongy spot he knew you’d love.

His expression changed, sending you shivers when you noticed his other hand tracing your spine and end up on the base of your thigh for support. “You’re so fucking hot when you use my hand like this.” He said, applying pressure on your clit with his thumb, in small circular motions.

You bounced on his hand slightly, desperate for more. “I need you.” You tucked at his hair, while pulling at his belt with your free hand.

Looking down at your hand, he spoke assertively, with a smile on his face. “Take it.”

Frenetically, you began unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans as best you could, pulling them slightly down so they would be halfway down his thighs, pulling down his boxers the same way. His cock shot right up, now free from all the restricting clothes, propped up in the perfect angle for you to enjoy it. As you felt Joel take his fingers from you, you immediately grabbed him with one of your hands and began to direct it with your entrance. You heard the noises you both made when in contact with each other.

“Ah, fuck.” You heard Joel whimper loud and clear when he entered you. “You feel so good.” You quickened your pace on top of him, letting him help you, positing his hands on your hips, guiding you through his length. “You like it when I take care of you.” He repeated.

You nodded your head in approval, looking him in the eye. “Yes Joel.” You said mid moan.

“Oh my God…” he whispered. “Would you look at that? So perfect for me.”

You cut him off just before glueing your mouth to his. “Make me cum, Joel.”

His hands gripped on your sides with more force, allowing him to fill up in all the way with each thrust. The air was filled with condensation, the sounds of your ass hitting his thighs rhythmically and the now not so soft grunts from him, accompanied with your desperate moans as you began to reach your orgasm.

“You’re so close, look at you.” His cocky smile reappearing in his face.

“I’m gonna cum Joel. Please.” You begged him to not stop.

“Right there with you, baby.” He continued his pace, hoping to get you through your edge. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten until it released with an explosion of nerves. You held Joel behind his neck, pushing his face into your chest, still with sloppy bouncing as you tried to ride your high. He wrapped his strong arms around your torso, holding you steady. As you closed your eyes you felt Joel’s warm spur shooting up inside you, which made you moan again. You were incredibly sensitive and he knew. He gave you some last thrusts while looking up at you, from between your breasts. His mouth open in his usual cocky smile. Your sighs filled the room with urgency while you recovered both, still wrapped around each other.

You melted into each other’s skin, until Joel raised his head and placed a soft kiss on one of your wounds.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you that surprise.” You said.

“I got everything I need right here”. You heard him with a stupid smile on your face. “But please let me come with you next time.” You quickly realised that he meant the market or any dangerous place on the city, but instead decided to mock him.

“The shower? Of course, c’mon now.” You got yourself up before he could pick you up again.

You heard him laugh behind you. “That’s not it, but I’ll take it.” As he rushed his foot, trying to get you in his arms again.

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #joel tlou x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut

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doll-elvis · 9 months

Note

Hi! I am interested to know how Elvis smelled (what perfumes he used, etc.)

hello and thank you very much for the ask <3!!

and tbh if I ever had the privilege of meeting Elvis I would have gone in for a hug and buried my face into his neck just so I could take the deepest inhale, the man looked like he smelled good 😩

anyways- to begin with the colognes/perfumes he used, I've heard a few different brands named such as Old Spice, Lenel, and Canoe, but the most frequently mentioned is definitely Brut, which I've seen people describe as warm, spicy, woodsy, with hints of herbs like lavender as well. Overall a really classic and “masculine” kind of barber shop smell

“He didn’t smell, though, because he loaded up on deodorant and cologne—Brut” - ( quote taken from “Elvis and the Memphis Mafia” by Alanna Nash )

According to Ginger Alden, Elvis used a cologne called Zizanie in the late 1970s, which has also been described as warm, spicy, woodsy, and earthy, with patchouli and sandalwood as its main notes

“He used a cologne called Zizanie and Neutrogena face soap; even today, those scents make me think of him” - ( quote taken from “Elvis and Ginger” by Ginger Alden )

And here pictured below is Elvis’ personal bottle of Brut ⬇️

( photo taken from “Elvis by the Presleys” )

As for other hygiene products, Neutrogena, like Ginger mentioned, has been named as his preferred brand of soap all across the board

“If he was in the shower, he had me talk to him from outside the curtain as the steam wafted the scent of his Neutrogena soap into the bathroom around me” - ( quote taken from “A Little thing called Life ” by Linda Thompson )

Nancy Rooks, Elvis' maid at Graceland, also stated that he used Aqua Velvet aftershave lotion, Colgate toothpaste, and confirmed that Brut was his favorite cologne ⬇️

( quote taken from “Inside Graceland” by Nancy Rooks )

Just from reading a few reviews I've seen many people, like Nancy, say that they really didn't like Brut, so I'm curious if any of you guys happen to have a bottle and could say whether you liked it or not 👀

I've been so tempted to buy a bottle of Brut, but I'm honestly scared that I'll get it and then hate the smell 😩 ... because I got the perfume “White shoulders” after reading that Elvis liked it on girls (mainly in the 50s), and I've been trying to force myself to like it, but it's not working so far lmaoo

it smells like flowers and face powder but not in the best way 😭

( quote taken from “Elvis: This one’s for you” by Arlene Cogan )

#oh to be enveloped in the smell of him #a girl could dream #I wore white shoulders to work and my coworker said I smelled like his grandma #💀#never again #elvis presley #elvisaaronpresley #elvis #elvis history #elvis fans #elvis asks

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ask-monster-men · 2 months

Note

The way you talked about kinerick and the accepting human being a display piece for his shop had me thinking. Would he set up a little area so they can lounge (naked except for the collar that marks you as his, of course) around and take naps and bring customers in? How would he react to big scary creatures eye fucking his pet and tapping on the glass to get their attention, cooing at them whenever they look over lazily like a fat house cat who just got woken up from a nap? Sorry if this is too much!!! He's just really interesting!!!

Kinerick would have a window dedicated purely just to you, he would deck it out with fancy pillows and bars to drill in the fact that your not going anywhere but also because he has a kick out of locking things that are his away but displayed for others to oogle at and become jealous.

Perhaps this was because as a child he was very jealous of what others had, always hogging his own toys and lashing out at anyone who tried to take what was his or even ask nicely to play.

He's not a greed demon for nothing

But as you sit in the window, sitting ontop of your red cushions with your golden collar and chain sitting neatly against your neck you couldn't help but notice a gargantuan monster that stood before you, his arms and tentacles tapped at the glass almost as if you where this exotic thing that he needed yo see move.

Your naked body sat up and you lazily looked over at him, with a smile and a wink the monster coo'ed at you before he look up at the sign above your head...."not for sale." It growled as it wanted something exactly like you.

However before he could get so enraged he would try and brut force it kinerick stepped out, with a wide grin and a ring of the door bell he greeted the monster, the monster knew of kinerick and instantly calmed down (not wanting to cause a war, remember kinerick is one of the top human dealers and alot of powerful overlords use his services) so the monster gleefully stepped in, knowing he would get just the human he desires (sadly not being you)

#monster #monster man #teratophillia #yandere teratophilia #monster x human #monster x reader #yandere #art #digital art #terato #kinerick

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callsignthirsty · 3 months

Text

Chapter 3: Behind the Door

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x F!Reader x Ron "Slider" Kerner Summary: Interrupting Iceman. Word Count: 4100 Warnings: Smut, bets and wagers, semi-public sex, fingering Chapter: 3/4 Minors DNI Previous Chapter

Slider's head whips around, shoulders drawn tight toward his ears as the crash of the door startles you both.

"Kerner!"

The split-second of terror subsides with that voice.

Ice.

Slider grunts, stubbornly diving back between your thighs. A man on a mission.

"I know you're up here, and I'm giving you to the count of three."

"No," you whimper, hips rocking against Slider's fingers, urging them to work faster. "Don't stop."

"One."

Instead of responding, Slider's breath ghosts over your clit as he presses two fingers into your cunt, curling them to pinpoint your sweet spot and hurtle you toward the edge.

The click of Ice's shoes is loud as he stalks toward you. "Two."

"So good," Slider hums against your slick skin. You squeeze your eyes closed, keening at the praise. "Almost there, baby."

Sli hisses as fingers fist in his short hair and yank him from between your legs.

"Three."

You whimper at the sudden loss of stimulation and the pour of cool night air over heated skin.

Slider has the audacity to flash Ice a smug smile. "Oh," he says as if he hadn't known the two of you were no longer alone. "Hey, Ice."

Pale eyes narrow as if asking Slider if that's the game they're going to play, then Ice pulls a tissue from his pocket and holds it to his RIO. "You've got lipstick on your face."

Slider's tongue peeks out to lick his lips. "That's not the only thing on my face."

Ice doesn't dignify him with a response, only releasing Slider when he stands and steps back to give you enough space for Ice to resettle you—steadying you on your own two feet and smoothing wrinkled velvet before procuring another tissue to help clean up the rouge smudged beyond the bounds of your lips.

Once you're deemed presentable, Ice descends the steps with his hand wrapped around your wrist, guiding you with an insistent tug that makes you feel more like an insolent child than his date. You want to stamp your feet as Ice assures you that he only needs to talk to a couple more officers he wants to speak with before you can get out of there.

Between the forced separation through staggered travel to D.C. and the night's two encounters—both of which had taken you to the very edge before leaving you high and dry—you're at your limit. So, to say you aren't paying attention to the conversation is an understatement. How are you supposed to pay attention to anything when you're oscillating between the jitters of unsated arousal and lightly filtered frustration?

Because who the hell does he think he is—do they think they are—to draw you into their little macho pissing contest? It's a wonder Iceman and Slider can both fit into the cockpit with their egos so blown out of proportion.

What should it matter in the end? They know you're going home with both of them.

Not that you get to say any of this. Instead, you're left to stew with empty eyes, a pinched smile, and a clenched fist at Ice's side as he makes a good impression on a commander. You're scraping the barrel with each half-hearted laugh at the officer's dull jokes, the Brut in your glass swirling between your fingers untouched. Each shift of your legs brings you closer to angry tears as the spit between them turns tacky, the microabrasions from Slider's stubble smarts reminding you of your lack of undergarment and the dissatisfied, borderline painful feeling of emptiness.

But it'll be a cold day in hell before you let any tears fall. You have your own pride to manage, and besides, no one wants to mingle with the serviceman whose date's eyes burn a tear-stung red.

"How much longer?" you ask Ice once the commander leaves.

Ice gives you an assessing look, eyebrows pulled down, and his head lightly tilted. You can't tell if he feels bad about what he's putting you through or is confused by your shortness of tone. "Impatient?"

You scoff, barely repressing the urge to cross your arms. Instead, you take a sip of your Brut, nose wrinkling as it bursts bitter across your tongue. "Whatever," you huff, done with the conversation and resigning yourself to more of the same. Ice had said there were "a couple" officers he wanted to talk with, after all.

Ice draws a deep breath in through his nose; lips pursed as he looks up to the ceiling. You know he's looking for the right words. You're still determining what those words would be. You know for a fact he won't find them painted on the ceiling.

Lucky for you—because you're not done being upset with him yet—Ice can't pinpoint what he's looking for before you're interrupted.

"Woah!" a familiar blonde excuses, bumbling into Ice and nearly spilling his beer on matching whites. "Sorry about that, still got my sea le– oh! Ice, hey!" Excuse dropped as a beamish grin overtakes Wolfman's face, cheeks tinged pink with drink.

"Wolf," you giggle as Wolf pulls you into a better mood with a friendly hug. It's hard to be all doom and gloom when Wolf's involved; he's a veritable ray of sunshine. "Where's 'Wood?"

"Pfft," he snorts. "Where's anyone? I mean, 'Wood's somewhere with his girl, but one minute I'm with Sli and Chip, the next Sli's gone and Chip's found himself a pretty little thing to dance with." He shrugs, not looking too plussed about his situation.

"I'll dance with you, Wolfie," you jump to offer. "Ice is being boring anyway."

Ice frowns. Wolf laughs. "Who am I to say no to a lady?" he asks, pulling you into an off-kilter twirl. "Don't worry, Ice, she's in good hands!" he calls over his shoulder as you practically drag him toward the dancefloor.

What Wolfman lacks in prowess, he makes up for in enthusiasm. By the time Hollywood and his fiancée find the two of you on the dancefloor—not a surprise since 'Wood and Wolf are practically connected at the hip—you're a little breathless from trying to keep up.

It's a good time, but you can only be so distracted, and it's only a matter of time before you begin scanning the crowd. Either you'll find Slider, or he'll find you, but you'll be damned if he doesn't finish what he started.

You know Ice has people he wants to impress and a ladder he's trying to climb, but shouldn't you be at the top of his list? With this thought at the helm, it isn't long before you spot a head of brown curls that towers above the rest. You rock onto your tiptoes to feed Wolf a lie—bathroom—and push through the crowd alone.

Except as you get closer, it becomes glaringly apparent that this tall brunet is not Slider.

You scowl at no one in particular when you come up empty-handed.

As you decide to keep searching until you find Slider—and, ultimately, relief—someone grabs you from behind.

You whirl around, ready to smack the person's hands off of you.

It's Pete.

You smack him anyway.

"Ow!" Pete yelps, more from surprise than pain. You didn't hit him that hard. "What the hell?!"

"Pete Mitchell, who do you think you are grabbing a lady–"

"You're hardly a lady."

"–from behind like that. You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Pete disarms you with a light pinch to your side that has you clamping your arms against your sides to protect against further tickling. "Where're Tweedledee and Tweedledum? Didn't think I'd catch you without one or the other."

You suppress a roll of your eyes. "Who knows."

"Sooo," Pete drawls a bit awkwardly, "does this have anything to do with the weirdness going on between the three of you?"

"Oh my god. You know," you groan, unable to stop yourself from hiding your face in your hands. How embarrassing.

"I don't know-know," Pete's quick to correct, "and I don't want to. But I know something's up."

This isn't something you're delving into with your brother. "It's nothing. Forget it."

"Doesn't seem like nothing if you're avoiding them."

"Like you're avoiding Penny's dad?" you snark back. Deflecting. "I'm surprised you decided to stick around."

"He's old. It's probably past his bedtime," Pete says confidently, a smile tugging at his lips. "The night's mine."

"Whatever will you do with this newfound freedom?" you tease.

Pete gives a half-shrug, surveying the room. "I'm sure some poor officer brought his daughter so she could meet the love of her life."

You don't bother holding in a mocking laugh. "And that's you?"

"No." Pete makes a face. "But I can be her something for the night."

"Ew," you grunt because you so do not want to get into that with your brother. "I need a drink."

A hand catches your elbow as you turn. "Going somewhere?"

You refuse to look as you shake Ice's hand off and continue walking.

"So you're going to ignore me." It's a statement.

"Don't you have other people to talk to?"

Ice reaches for your elbow again, turning you so he can meet your eyes with his own. "I want to talk to you."

"That's my cue," Pete mumbles as he slinks into the crowd, presumably to find trouble.

Neither you nor Ice move, and your stomach roils as his jaw sets, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You're mad at me."

Part of you wants to tell him off. Instead, you shake your head. "I'm not mad. I'm frustrated."

"Okay," Ice says, with a curt nod, his shoulders—which had been bunched—rolling back as he becomes more sure of himself. "I can work with that."

Something about the way he says it rankles you, and you sneer. Earlier, you'd been all aboard hanging off Ice's arm, but now you're wound tight enough to burst, and all you want to do is take a hot bath. And now that he's made you this way, you're something that needs to be dealt with.

"Let's grab some fresh air," Ice says, loud enough to settle any eavesdroppers as he leads you toward the outdoor courtyard with a gentle but commanding grasp on your elbow.

But you pass by the turn for the courtyard.

"Where are you taking me?" The smell of cigar smoke thins as you walk along less-traveled hallways.

"I'm taking care of it," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and continues to drag you after him.

Venturing further from the intended party spaces, the lights dim. You doubt the venue means for you to be down here.

Instead of voicing these thoughts, you scoff. "Helpful."

Making sure you're alone, Ice pulls you down a deserted hallway. "You're frustrated. I have people to talk to," he says slowly, sparing you a glance.

You frown. There goes Ice, talking about other people. Again.

He beelines for two unassuming doors, reaching out to the first, but its handle jiggles. Catches. Locked.

"I'm taking care of it."

Before you can challenge that assertion, Ice steps to the side and grabs the handle to the second door, marked STAFF ONLY.

It clicks.

Ice pushes you inside, following close behind.

The light coming through the foot of the door isn't enough to tell you where you are. But the clinical, electric-orange antiseptic smell of cleaning supplies invading your nose, singeing the hairs, is more than enough to give it away.

When you cross your arms over your chest, something falls to the ground with a wooden clack! "By dragging me into a janitor's closet?"

"Well, you said you'd be good for me, but that didn't last long."

You reach for where the handle must be, but Ice anticipates your moodiness and moves to intercept, deflecting your hand. "But the bet was that Slider couldn't get you off." His breath fans your face as he leans in, so you tilt your head away to avoid his lips. Stubborn. Undeterred, he kisses the long line of your neck, and the ghost of soft lips has you holding back a gasp. "So I'm taking care of it."

"What if it doesn't want to be taken care of?"

Sharp teeth are a shock beneath the hinge of your jaw. "Don't be a brat."

A strangled moan trips past your lips as he catches you off guard.

You don't have to see Ice to know he's smirking. "Noted." Then his hand is cupping your breast. "So, are you going to let me take care of you or not?"

You're not proud of how quickly you crumble, but it's like a switch flips. You hope Ice is okay with the whiplash because after an entire night of teasing, you're desperate for relief. "Please," you whimper, pushing yourself further into his orbit. You want so bad it hurts.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I've got you." Ice captures your lips in a heated kiss—nipping at your bottom lip so you hiss and open up for him. He knows what you need, and he's (apparently) going to give it to you.

Your fingers, clumsy in their haste, scramble for Ice's belt, but he brushes them aside. "This is about you. I'll get mine later," he says, tilting your head to the side so he can track wet kisses up to the spot just below your ear, electricity sparking down your spine as teeth tug at the lobe. "When I lay you out on my bed."

A high-pitched, excited moan is your answer, interrupted by Ice's fingers over your lips. "You've gotta be quiet," he purrs, voice low in your ear. "Wouldn't want anyone to hear us."

"Then kiss me." He does. And as you breathe in deep, the whole situation makes you feel like you're back in high school: shelving digging into your lower back like you're sneaking around, trading uncoordinated kisses in the janitor's closet with David Hodges until your brother finds you and rips poor David away for an ass-beating. But infinitely better.

Ice's lips are familiar. Urgent and addictive against your own as he swallows your whimper—nothing like David.

Ice pinches your fat bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it with a slick smack. You suck in a sharp breath, lashes fluttering open to look up at the shadow of him in the dark. "So pretty," he growls, fabric rustling as he hastily cuffs the sleeve of his jacket and pushes it up to his elbow to keep it safe from what he has planned.

Handfuls of velvet are bunched around your waist so you can spread your legs more freely, and Ice can slot his hand between them.

Threading your fingers through his hair, you return his lips to yours. You both groan from the kiss—you from the relief of his hands on you, the promise of a sweet release; him from how wet and needy you are (Slider's work, really, but Ice seems keen to reap the benefits).

When you break apart to gasp for air, Ice husks, "I'd get my mouth on you." And it conjures the image of Slider's wicked brown eyes looking up at you from between your legs, your cunt throbs. God, you want that. "Too bad I can't smell like pussy while I'm talking to the brass." But he allows himself the indulgence of a single taste, bringing fingers slick with your arousal to his lips.

You shake your head, unsure if his eyes have adjusted enough to see you. "Unprofessional," you agree, dizzy as his fingers plunge back into your heat. The heel of his palm grinds deliciously against your clit, his fingers working with the frantic cant of your hips as you chase a high that's walking the line of pain in its evasion of you. A steady, unignorable ache.

Ice drags his nails over the dense fabric covering your tits, your nipples pebbling at the faux cool sensation. "Tell me what you need," he whispers against your lips.

Relief is so close the air is thick with it. It tastes like Lysol. You stutter out a breath, and it morphs into a quiet whine. "Just like that," you mewl. "Keep touching me like that."

"Yeah?" Ice teases, a third finger sneaking into you and zeroing in on your sweet spot, thumb coming up to rub circles into your clit. What little light there is in the closet glints off the sharp point of his teeth as his lips part. "You're going to cum on my fingers," he declares, and your heart skips a beat when it jumps into your throat. "Then, you're going to go back to being my good, pretty girlfriend while I talk business," he presses a teasing kiss to the corner of your lips, and you can't contain a needy, lilting whine, "and no one will know you needed to cum on my fingers just to make it through the night."

"Oh god," you sob, nails digging into the starched fabric of Ice's jacket. You're right there. Liquid flames lick at your core, your tummy tied in knots and thighs jumpy as Ice speeds up his fingers, a muffled squelch each time his fingers bottom out, knuckles pressed tight to your cunt.

The two of you are so distracted that you don't hear the frantic footsteps until they're almost on top of you.

Ice jerks his fingers from you, yanking your dress back into place at the same time as he steps between you and the door to the closet, blocking you from whoever's about to fling the door open.

But it doesn't stop your eyes from meeting your brother's over his shoulder.

Pete slams the door shut.

Silence. Then: "You still dressed?"

Posture going rigid, Ice shoots the door a barbed look. "Maverick–" Pete shushes him through the door. He must be pressed up against the wood. Ice gives in but doesn't give up, continuing with a more hushed, "–what the hell?"

A pause. "That's not a no," your brother mulls. "Scoot over. I'm coming in."

"No!" You and Ice hiss simultaneously, but Pete is already squeezing himself into the closet with the two of you, pressed tight against Ice's back as he shuts the door firmly but with as much care as he gives his Kawasaki.

"Look," Pete whispers, and maybe his hands would be up in a placating manner if there were enough room, "I either hide in here with you two or hack it out there with Admiral Benjamin."

Without the distraction of each other, you and Ice hear far more measured footsteps hesitate at the far end of the hall before heading in your direction.

"I like your chances," Ice bites. "Leave."

Pete jostles all three of you as he turns to get into Ice's face as much as he can, given the confines of the closet. A shelf creaks, but nothing falls. "Well, it won't look good on you either," he whispers furiously. "Huh? Ice-cold, no mistakes, making out with your date in a closet like you're at junior pr–" Ice slaps a hand over his mouth, and the three of you fall deathly still.

The tension thickens until the footsteps pass you by.

No one dares to let out a quiet, adrenaline-shaken breath, even when the footsteps sound like they must have reached the other end of the hallway. Pete does, however, allow his shoulders to sag in relief.

Then, the footsteps pause.

They grow closer—louder—once more. This time, the muffled chaf of dress shoes on the carpet sounds like it's purposefully approaching the closet. Each step ratchets the tension up exponentially. You hold still, certain that if you shift your weight, something on the open shelving will give away your location. Ice, still shielding you from the door, brings a hand up to pet the back of your neck; the cool metal of his Academy ring—grounding any other time—sends a nervous trickle down your spine.

Benjamin is obviously after Pete, but how bad will it look that the two of you are in the closet with him?

There's a mechanical squeal of metal catching, handle turning, getting stuck. Jiggle. A grunt as he encounters the locking mechanism of the next door over.

Two shadows block the ambient light at the bottom of the door.

Well, you pinch your eyes closed. This will be embarrassing.

"Admiral Benjamin," someone calls from further away.

"Ah," the response comes uncomfortably close to your door. "Lieutenant…?"

"Kerner, sir." Slider. "I was with Lieutenant Kazansky earlier. Did you ever find Mitchell?

Two quick raps on the door. Pete flinches. "I believe I have." And Admiral Benjamin sounds smug.

The statement hangs in the air.

"In a closet, sir?" You can see the skeptical raise of Slider's brow in your mind's eye.

The shadow shifts. "I'm sure he came this way."

"Well, I just saw his RIO headed toward the taxis." A pause. "He's a slippery little shit. If he was here, he's long gone by now."

"Hm." Admiral Benjamin doesn't move, but from the sound of things, neither does Slider. "Well, Lieutenant. Really good stuff on the Enterprise."

Slider thanks him as the shadows disappear from the doorway and footsteps hurry off on a Goose chase.

When you're sure the admiral has left the vicinity—thankfully not asking Slider why he decided to stick around—Pete stumbles out of the closet with all the grace of a baby giraffe but none of the height. "Aw, Kerner," he teases with a dopey grin, "you do like me."

Slider snorts. "Don't thank me yet. The Geese are waiting for a taxi."

Pete's chin falls to his chest, and he mumbles a "goddammit" before hurrying to see if he can avoid Admiral Benjamin by sneaking through the courtyard.

"They're not the only ones," Slider tells Ice, nodding in the general direction of what remains of the Ball's attendees. "If you want to talk to anyone else, now's the time."

But as you practically tremble between them, Ice looks at you—really looks at you—and his features soften. He cups your shoulder, offering but not pulling you into his side. "I think I've networked enough for one night," he declares, tone light. His thumb rubbing back and forth, soothing.

Then those gray-blue eyes are on you, and his lips stretch into a slow, soft smile. "No one I can't talk with some other time."

"You sure?" Slider asks. Then, hushed, "I can take care of her while you finish up."

There is quite literally nothing you want less. The venue is clearly cursed, and you don't plan on sticking around long enough to find out what other ways you can get caught or edged tonight.

"The bet's off," Ice states before you can say 'no,' and your heart flutters. If Ice wasn't going to stick around for one last round of shoulder-rubbing, then winning was only a matter of getting you in a taxi.

For his part, Slider doesn't seem as shocked as you are by Ice's declaration.

Ice feathers a kiss to your temple before you can second-guess his decision. It's the most relaxed you've seen him all evening. "Let's get you a taxi."

"Wait." Slider pushes off the wall. He procures a key from his pocket and presses it into Ice's hand. "Holiday Inn. K Street. Leave in 10 minutes."

Ice fiddles with the thick plastic of the keychain but pays it no real mind.

"Don't give me that look," Slider boos.

Ice licks his lips. "You know our rooms were comped, right?" It's a perk of being summoned to the event, you're sure.

Slider takes a half step forward, the three of you the closest you've been all night. From this distance, Ice has to look up ever so slightly to meet Slider's cocky gaze. "You want to what?" he asks, voice going deep and quiet enough no one else could hear if they happened by you. "Pile into a single room at the same hotel everyone else is staying at?" He motions between the three of you. "How's that going to work?"

Some like to write Slider off as all muscle, no brain. But it's his job to see things others don't—things Ice doesn't. He knew they couldn't take you back to their fancy hotel rooms even before he came to the event tonight. The safest solution had been to shell out for a lesser room somewhere you were less likely to turn heads.

"She isn't exactly known for being quiet," Sli stresses.

Ice ponders the key for long seconds before he pockets it with a nod.

Slider smirks. "That's what I thought."

#thirsty's fics #fic: stuck in the. middle #fic: stuck at the navy ball #chapter 3: behind the door #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky x f!reader #ron slider kerner x reader #ron slider kerner x f!reader #female reader #tom iceman kazansky x reader x ron slider kerner #top gun smut #tom iceman kazansky smut #ron slider kerner smut #the '86 flyboys #because is fucking your rival-turned-friend's sister even fun if you don't have to be over-the-top sneaky about it?

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flower-boi16 · 5 months

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"I Wanna Dance With Some Ollie" Is a Good Episode, Actually (A Response to The Alphajay Show)

Before I start this post I want to say that I am a fan of The Alphajay show, I really like watching his content and I think he makes good videos. That being said, however, the TGAMM segment in his "Ranking The WORST Episodes Of 2023" video is awful and just gets a lot of shit wrong to the point I especially have the motivation to debunk what he says in the video. So... let's just begin.

He starts off the segment by saying this:

"I Wanna Dance With Some Ollie is one of the worst episodes I've seen this year. And it's one of the most disappointing episodes I've ever seen since making this channel. And to basically summarize my video on it, the first season of Molly Mcgee builds up her character perfectly. You have the girl who moves from town to town. Wanting to build strong memories in her now forever home. Even if she was cursed by a ghost. Her positive aura radiated the otherwise miserable town and her ambition combined with her amazing musical sequences and solid comedy that took her do gooder attitude, and gave her a very much welcome edge for an amazing character who I rooted for to save the town and was ready to watch season after season of it....she threw all of that away for a boy named Ollie"

....what? No she didn't. I really don't know what Jay's talking about here? Molly didn't throw away her goal of enhappifying the town for Ollie, all she ever did was just get a crush on him. Saying that she threw all of that away for a boy seems kinda disingenuous to me. It just looks like he's mad because...Molly got a crush on a boy. Like, is she not allowed to have crushes or something? After this he says this:

"However this isn't just romance shifting a person into doing things that they otherwise wouldn't do because that's natural that's understandable. This is about a show, brut forcing a romance that otherwise wouldn't have made sense without understanding why people clammer over the ones done right. I brought up Spider-Verse earlier and that's a great example of romance done right. Gwen has her own life own motivations and her own cool aspects that are not connected to Miles. Likewise, as said in my video about Molly Mcgee, Luz and Amity from the first season of The Owl House worked because Amity had a life, motivations and cool aspects before liking and meeting Luz. Also the Grom episode wasn't the like the 5th episode that they went to. They actually built up the tension of wanting to see them get together."

Wait...does Ollie not have his own aspects that aren't connected to Molly too? Like, he's a kid who was taught to hate ghosts and became a ghost hunter, and he got a whole episode where he went through character development over his guilt about hunting ghosts, not to mention the whole conflict of his parents finding out he's friends with a ghost. Ollie also does have aspects about him that are not related to Molly, are the ones I just mentioned somehow not enough?

Alphajay is saying this as if Ollie's entire character is just about his romance with Molly and that his whole character revolves around her, but that's just objectively false. After that he complains about the episode "Beats you over the head about how much it wants to you spread the ship" which really isn't worth talking about so lets talk about the thing he says after that:

"You'd think the girl who went to the ghost world and defeated the chairman to free all ghosts would be a little bit more quick to explain why Ollie shouldn't be discriminatory towards all ghosts, especially Molly's best friend who is a ghost who gets caught and trapped at that very same concern"

Ummmm...

Alpha. Didn't she literally try to do that in Book Marks the Sprite? Ya know, the last episode these two interacted in before this? She did try to explain to Ollie that ghosts may not be evil but she wasn't able to convince him.

So after that he ends the segment and moves on to talk about an episode that I am assuming is from modern Spongebob. Again, I do like Alphajay's content but a lot of the stuff he said in this segment was just straight up objectively wrong.

#tgamm #the ghost and molly mcgee #molly mcgee #ollie chen #alphajay

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swap-and-possessions · 1 year

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Wars & Bodysuits

“I must say. The last batch of suits was the best your company has provided me.”

Timothee, the CEO of BodyCo©, came over from the bar with a bottle of champagne in hand. It’s 1993 Dom Perignon Brut. A little inexpensive for both of us, but I must applaud him for knowing my tastes. I know the brand. France suffered nasty weather during the first few months of 1993, but not the Champagne province. He poured us both a glass, and I thanked him for it. The taste is subtle green herbs with a citrus finish. It’s just the way I liked it.

“I am flattered by your compliments, Hendrick. I assure you, next year’s batch will be better.”

“I’m looking forward to it then,” I said with a smile. Timothee hasn’t disappointed me yet, not then and not now. Standing before us is the latest bodysuit I’ve ordered. It’s one of many. Most will be used by my security profile, while the rest will be added to my private collection. And this one is mine.

Timothee has done an incredible job with getting this bodysuit. It’s muscular, which is the standard these days. There’s also that grittiness present in the stubble and face. Not many like such quality, but I do. I walked around the lifeless bodysuit, and one single order made it flex its muscles. Several veins popped all over his arms, and his abdominal muscles hardened. Then there’s the smell and how delighted I felt when the hard-hitting stench filled every inch of my lungs. I could not contain the excitement in my trembling fingers. My mind is desperate to enter the gaping hole in its back. However, I am a classy businessman. My late father taught me to show proper etiquette, especially in front of a long-time business partner.

“A decade has passed since my company started in BodyCo©, and you still haven’t told me how you create these magnificent bodysuits.” I finished the glass of Champagne to fill the momentary silence that befell our conversation.

“I am afraid that it is a company secret,” Timothee said, and as he did, he noticed the frown on my face. “But as BodyCo’s top investor and buyer, there are times where bending the rules serves the company’s benefit,”

Timothee asked me to follow him to his private elevator. Once we were both stuffed inside, he entered a code, and off we went several flights underground. The place must be several hundred feet of concrete and dirt because it took a couple of minutes to reach our destination. This secret floor is filled with men in hazmat suits while preparing future bodysuits. The company once explained that these bodysuits are artificially made. However, one wet bodysuit with no discernible hole on its back crawled to me while begging for help. Before he got too close, the men in hazmat suits apprehended the man and dragged him out of our sight.

“I apologize for seeing such a horrendous display. We could return if you want.”

“No. I am fine. Anyway, can you tell me what is going on here?”

We walked further into the lab. I saw towering and lifeless bodysuits on hooks. I saw how the men in Hazmat suits forced the living ones to drink this strange concoction which made them convulse and eventually lay unconscious on the floor. Another employee would create a hole in its back, while another group would squeeze out the air. There aren’t any organs inside, which surprised me. As for the next step, the bodysuits are washed, dried, and matured in a large storage room. Before we passed one such chamber, the men in hazmat suits gave us an N95 mask. There’s no danger of toxic fumes, but the smell might not be to our liking. Behind their gaze, I made a little hole in my mask, allowing the sour musk of the chamber to fill my lungs. I’ve never dealt with narcotics, but this must be what it feels like. My dick was getting hard just by being surrounded by these lifeless bodies and their smells.

A recently prepared bodysuit stares at me with lifeless eyes. I sensed that he was about to walk towards me, but a man in hazmat caught him before he did.

After the chamber, I pocketed the mask.

“I am assuming the claim that these bodysuits are artificially made is a lie,” I said to Timothee. The man looked at me with a blank expression. He’s probably thinking there is no merit in lying after everything I’ve seen.

Beep. Beep. The scanner sounded. “This one’s healthy,” the man in a hazmat suit said. He walked closer and squeezed the suit’s growing bulge. “A little too healthy, I might say.”

“You are correct, monsieur.” Timothee walked over to an employee who was in the middle of scanning a matured bodysuit. He asked him to leave, and to other employees in the room as well. “These men used to be alive. They used to have lives and dreams.”

“Then pray tell, where are you getting them?”

“Did you know that there are 27 ongoing conflicts worldwide?”

“Do you mean you’re getting them from active war sites?”

“About ninety percent of our products, yes.” Timothee spread apart the hole and climbed inside. The bodysuit convulsed, its skin ebbing to and fro like a wave. Seeing someone wear a bodysuit would never get old in my eyes. Timothee opened his new set of eyes as he closed the hole in his back. He coughed, which meant that he was adjusting his voice. “We get these bodysuits from different conflicts around the globe. Millions die in wars every year. Nobody would bat an eye if a couple thousand disappeared.”

“B– but that’s illegal!”

“So is the insider trading your son in Congress did three months ago. Or the two counts of homicide your boyfriend did, which you easily swept under the rug.” Timothee used to be this frail little man who was afraid of me. With that body, however, he stands taller with looks that can kill. “What are laws, if not poor people’s rules?”

“Wh– what do you want?”

“Showing you the scenes behind my company does not come for free. Given your line of business, I assume we can help each other.” I peered into his eyes and looked for the meaning behind his words. I have several companies under my name, but I’m mainly known for trading arms and providing mercenaries to various private personnel worldwide. If he gets these bodysuits from wars, then that must mean…

“You want me to instigate conflicts so you could get more bodies?”

“Right on track, Hendrick. I’ve known the various wars your company has caused throughout the globe. Thanks, by the way.” Timothee drew closer and played with his fingers on my shoulders. “The world’s getting a little peaceful lately, and my company’s stock is getting affected. If you helped me, I would ensure that you would get the best bodysuits we have. That would surely bolster the strength of your private armies. So, what do you say?”

I remembered the struggles I had to face to reach this level of success. This would never be possible if not for the alliances I had to forge. It’s a surprise that one would come knocking on my door. There is no other answer than “yes”

Read the NSFW-ish version on my Patreon. Click on this 🧡link🧡 to read it.

#Bodysuit #Male Bodysuit #Military #Skinsuit #Male Skinsuit

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heykoonsy · 2 months

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Word Count: 5.7k+

Pairing: Husk x Angel Dust (HuskerDust/AngelHusk), slight Angel Dust x OC

Summary: “Give him everything but your ass.” Angel Dust was tasked with one job: convince the investor to subsidize Valentino’s agency. Angel was more of a closer to Valentino, enticing the wealthier of his associates into funding projects for him. However, this latest pitch didn’t go as planned and Angel’s hubris prevented him from seeing the potential drawbacks of a one night stand with someone Valentino marked. In this slow burn love story, Angel must confront the worst parts of himself if he is going to win back his career.

Content Warnings: Rated 18+ for foul language and unprotected sexually explicit content

Author's Note: I hope this chapter was worth the wait, my apologies for the delay!

Angel Dust tried to calm himself as he sat in the meeting room that he’d more or less fired Mr. Jullien in several weeks ago. It was sobering to say the least how their roles had reversed. In the darkest part of Angel’s mind, he worried that Jullien had only set up this meeting to give him hope before letting him crash and burn. Angel looked towards the rest of his team, their faces showing just as much anxiety as his. He took a deep breath, exhaling from his nose.

Everything was going to be fine, Angel told himself.

Spitzers was seated at the end of the table, his hands folded in on themselves as he waited patiently. While his expression was muted, that did not mean that he was at all settled. Angel could tell just by looking at him that his mind was going through several back up plans. The only problem was, that he probably couldn’t think of any.

Agony and Brut were a different story. Their worries showed right on their faces. Brut seemed to always be anxious–it was in his nature to show whatever he felt. He could probably tell that they’d found themselves in a precarious situation–but negotiating deals like this was not his strong suit. It was likely that he was putting all of his trust in Spitzers.

Agony was strumming his fingers on the table, eager to get started with the meeting and yet simultaneously terrified that it would start. His eyes swept over the table as well, his eyes meeting Angel’s. He gave an unsteady smile–not quite sure what else to do.

Angel smiled back, trying to hide the feelings of dread he clearly felt. While none of his current partners knew that Angel fired Jullien, he knew that it would give them yet another reason to worry so he kept it to himself.

Like it was his cue to arrive, Mr. Jullien walked through the door to the small conference room. He looked pretty grim–and his eyes were cold as they swept over Angel Dust in particular. He did his best not to cringe, instead rising from his seat and offering his hand up in greeting since he was the closest.

“Thank you for coming,” Jullien said without a shred of emotion and a limp handshake.

Angel nodded, “Thank you for reaching out,” he grabbed his hand.

Then, Jullien went around the room and greeted everyone else, stopping only when he’d made a full circle around the table. He motioned for all of them to take their seats, and they did.

“It’s come to my attention that Valentino has blacklisted you,” Jullien said to Angel.

Angel nodded despite feeling singled out. “That’s correct,” he said politely.

Jullien chuckled wryly, “Well that’s karma for you.”

Angel took the comment on the chin, trying to laugh with him. He looked towards Spitzers, hoping that if anything, he had a plan.

Spitzers cleared his throat, “We were under the impression that you were here to form an alliance.”

Jullien quieted down, nodding towards Spitzers. “Since Valentino revoked his support, I’ve been forced into a lot of unsavory alliances,” he said, his eyes fixed onto him.

Angel gulped, knowing for a fact that they were about to get fired before their partnership even began.

“But my company is all the better for it,” Jullien said after a moment.

Angel–hell, the whole room–looked at him strangely.

“I was forced to look into investors, however a majority of them sided with Valentino’s decision to sever our ties,” Jullien recounted. “However, I was able to come to an agreement with one and our immediate concerns of bankruptcy dissolved.”

Angel sat up in his chair, his eyebrows knitting together.

“I was consulted with this investor once we learned of your blacklist, Angel Dust,” Jullien said. “And he convinced me that we would be fools not to capitalize on the biggest mistake Valentino has ever made.”

The entire room seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Angel Dust sat there, his mouth agape as the rest of his team started to chuckle nervously. He looked at Spitzers, who put his hand to his shoulder.

“Tezan said that?” Angel said, shock still apparent on his face.

Jullien was surprised that he knew of him, but nodded nonetheless. “He insisted that we put the past behind us.”

While Spitzers and Jullien went back and forth regarding the details of their merge, all Angel could do was sit there quietly. After Angel met with Tezan and they had their little exchange, he thought that would be it for him. Angel thought that once Tezan enacted his revenge that he would be finished with him. But to hear that he stuck his neck out for Angel–for an enemy…

Angel wondered if perhaps Tezan was simply righting the wrong–just like Angel had attempted to do with Agony and Brut. Perhaps Tezan truly regretted his involvement. That was a feeling that Angel was far too familiar with. As terrible as Tezan was–he’d really saved Angel’s ass with this one.

Angel rummaged through the pile of mail that had formed–all addressed to him. He read each one, flipping through the stack quickly. Bills, coupons, scam, invitation, scam, credit card, Angel rifled through the stack again, finding the black invitation. He threw everything else in the garbage can next to his door. He ran his fingers along the velvety envelope with gold lettering embossed on the front.

You’ve been invited…

Angel tore open the envelope and opened up the card inside. It was black, the same gold lettering used throughout the invitation.

You have been invited to the AVN’s Award Ceremony where you and many others within the industry have been recognized for exemplary talent.

Angel read on, his eyes catching the usual details–one being that he could bring a plus-one–and there was really only one person that came to mind. He rifled through his pocket with one hand, holding his invitation with the other. Angel opened his text conversation with Cherri.

Over the last few weeks, he’d been busy trying to repair his career that was in shambles–but he’d also been trying to repair his relationship with Cherri. He scrolled up on their conversation, which had been one sided ever since he’d sent those first few apology texts. So far, he’d apologized three more times–going into detail and being more vague–and nothing garnered a response.

Angel sighed. He knew that he didn’t really deserve a response–not with the way he’d pushed her away and ditched her. He thought that that was over the first time he’d done it–but it seemed that he was full of surprises, good and bad. Still, Angel took a deep breath and did the only thing he hadn’t had the courage to do all these weeks.

He hit the call button.

Angel went through all stages of grief as he heard the phone ring. There was no way she would answer–not after giving him the cold shoulder for this long. Angel knew she was one stubborn bitch anyway. If she answered, Angel knew that he could smooth things over but–

Oh God, what if she never answered? Angel thought, one of his hands going to his head as he paced his room.

Then, Angel heard a click on the other end of the line.

“Hey,” Cherri said quietly–almost like she was having the same crisis as he was.

“Hey,” Angel parroted, his voice low.

The two of them let the silence drag between them–and Angel regretted being so impulsive. If he knew she was going to answer, then he would have prepared something to fucking say.

“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t been around much,” Cherri said into the phone.

“Why the fuck are you apologizing?” Angel asked incredulously. “I’m sorry for being such a fucking asshole.”

Cherri laughed into the phone, “Yeah, you were pretty rotten,” she said.

Angel missed her laugh. “What have you been up to?”

Cherri recounted a few funny stories about what she’d been doing for the last few weeks. Most of it was dumb day-to-day shit, and Angel understood completely. Afterall, Angel knew that they were one in the same. Cherri was his person, and Angel was hers–without each other there…

“I’m sorry for shutting you out,” Cherri and Angel both said in unison. Then they both laughed.

It wasn’t like everything was magically fixed. There were still things that Angel knew he couldn’t tell her yet–and Cherri likely felt the same–but it was a start. She decided to give him the time of day again, and that was a good enough victory in and of itself. He’d missed weeks of his best friend’s life in an instant, all because he didn’t know how to deal with his own shit.

Angel inhaled deeply and sighed, “It’s great to hear your voice.”

“You too,” Cherri said. “Do you want to go out for drinks or something? Catch up?”

Angel smiled so hard his cheeks hurt. “You know, it’s funny, because I know exactly where we can go.”

“Are you done in there yet?” Husk asked, the frustration in his tone evident.

“Perfection takes time, Husky,” Angel shouted from the bathroom.

He looked in the mirror, giving himself a once-over before leaving. Then, Angel grabbed the knob and swung open the door. “Are ya ready for me?” Angel cooed.

Husk grunted instead of responding.

Angel walked over to him, his hands behind his back as he showed off one of the outfits that he’d thrown together for the award ceremony tomorrow.

“What do you think?” Angel asked, twirling the teal cocktail dress. His hands went to the hem of the dress, lifting his leg up to show off the sparkly heels he’d paired with it.

Husk raised an eyebrow, “What else ya got?”

Angel made a face. “What, is it the neckline?” Angel looked down at the halter neckline, which did hide a majority of his fluff. If he were honest, he really only chose it because he thought the color complemented his complexion.

Husk grabbed Fat Nuggets from the floor and began patting his head. “Try again,” he said before banishing Angel back to the bathroom.

Angel huffed the whole way, but he was excited to show off his next outfit. He hurried and shed the teal dress, his arms already searching for his second outfit. Without much of a fuss, he slid on the next one, his hands working the dress and sliding it down. Within minutes he was back out and modeling for Husk.

“Okay, what about this one?”

Husk nodded, “Better,” he said quickly.

Angel looked down at the sweetheart neckline–his eyes immediately drawn to the intricately lined beading that seemed to come from the right side of the dress and sprawl out towards the left. The dress was form fitting and stopped just above his knee. This particular dress was to showcase his legs above all else.

“You think so?” Angel said with a smile. “There’s one more after this.”

Husk waved him off and Angel got to work switching out the dresses. He traded out one pair of heels for another, using the sink for balance. He was out of the bathroom in record time.

“Close your eyes, this ones a real show stopper!” Angel hollered from just outside the bathroom door.

Angel waited a beat for Husk to comply–which he didn’t doubt that he did. Angel walked towards where Husk was seated on the bed, quietly stepping in front of him so that he could sneak a glance at him. Angel smiled, he had indeed done as requested and shut his eyes. He sat there with his ankle resting on his knee, Fat Nuggets spread across his lap getting the petting of a lifetime. Both hands.

There was a look of annoyance on Husk’s face, but Angel could tell that he was enjoying himself. If he was truly angry, he would have just left. But, the fact that he was here placating Angel meant that he was happy to spend some time with him. Truth be told, Angel had been so focused on the agency, all he had time to do these days was work and sleep.

And of course a trip to the deli before work when he remembered that he needed to eat to live. Belise always told him if he’d seen his pig or not that day. Fat Nuggets too. He brushed his hands on his dress, smiling down at Husk for one last second. He really wanted to soak in their time together.

“Open,” Angel said after a moment.

Husk opened his eyes slowly, his attention drawn to Angel’s shoes first. Angel kicked them out for him, showcasing the satin fabric of the shoe with flowers trailing up the heel. Husk followed the exposed skin of Angel’s legs, the train of emerald chiffon hiding them just enough to pique his interest. Husk sat up, his eyes tracing where the chiffon met the bandage-style crossbody bodice.

Angel’s eyes followed Husk’s as his eyes were finally drawn to the sweetheart neckline that was embellished with similar flowers to the heels he sported.

“Well?” Angel asked, gesturing towards the dress.

“Huh?” Husk said before shaking his head. “Oh, it looks great.”

Angel didn’t look impressed, instead he placed his hands on his hips and leaned forward. “Great?” Angel parroted.

Husk nodded, seemingly fixated on the gown. “It’s clearly the best.”

Angel looked down. “Well I’ll admit, I was secretly hoping that you’d choose this one.”

He made a show of twirling the train, letting the light fabric catch against the wind he’d created. He stopped as quickly as he’d started.

“Okay, that settles it,” Angel said happily. “Let me just take this off,” he clapped his hands together, taking a moment to reach behind him towards the zipper.

Angel watched from the corner of his eye as Husk put Fat Nuggets down on the bed next to him before he stood. He took a step closer, his hands stretching towards the chiffon. He grabbed it, rolling the fabric between his fingers. Angel’s arms fell to his sides and he watched as Husk palmed the exterior of his thigh–slowly dragging against the satin bodice. Angel felt the pressure of his hand as it made its way from his stomach to his ribs…and finally towards the small of his back.

Husk pulled Angel towards him, his face buried in Angel’s fluff. Angel was surprised, his hands going to Husk’s shoulders. Husk lifted his chin–his eyes immediately going to Angel’s. When he looked down, the only thing he saw was Husk’s face.

Angel opened his mouth to speak, but the only thing he could do was bite his lip as he felt Husk’s left hand travel up his other leg, moving at a slow crawl before sneaking its way up his back.

“Let me help,” Husk whispered to Angel before sneaking a kiss to his collarbone.

Angel felt his entire body heat up at Husk’s request. He tried to get himself under control once he felt Husk’s hands leave him. He watched as he stepped back, and Angel wanted nothing more in that moment than to close the distance between them. But instead, he turned his back to him and waited.

Angel breathed in when he felt Husk’s fingers tracing the back of the dress, right where his skin and the fabric met. He traced the outline of the zipper slowly, separating the satin overlay and revealing the metal teeth underneath. Then, like he was being paid by the second, Husk grabbed the slider and slowly dragged it down.

Angel felt the cool air against his back for a moment, the dress splitting down the middle. Then, Angel felt Husk kiss the space between his shoulder blades softly. He gasped at the gentle touch, and with each centimeter that the zipper exposed, Angel was awarded with another kiss. For a moment, Angel wished that he was in front of a wall or something because he desperately needed something to lean on. The slider finally reached the bottom of the track, right at the small of Angel’s back. When Angel felt Husk’s lips graze the sensitive skin there, he nearly collapsed.

Husk stayed low, choosing to kiss a trail upwards along Angel’s spine. Angel reveled in every soft touch of his lips, goosebumps raising on his skin. He exhaled the air he didn’t know he’d been keeping in and Husk wrapped his arms around his stomach in response.

“Almost there,” Husk whispered over Angel’s shoulder.

Husk raised his hands slowly, going at an agonizing pace as they finally met the neckline of the emerald dress. Husk scooped Angel’s fluff in his hands, breathing a contented sigh against his exposed skin. Angel leaned forward slightly, the tickling sensation from behind him making him antsy. Husk followed him, giving his back another kiss as his hands dragged Angel’s neckline lower as he undressed him.

Angel felt the fabric leave his chest and ball up towards his bottom row of arms. Husk reached around him and touched every ounce of exposed skin that he’d freed from Angel’s dress. When he cupped fistfuls of Angel’s fluff, Angel choked on a moan. He tried to stifle himself with his top set of hands since his other ones were currently struggling to shimmy free from their arm-hole prison.

Husk came to the rescue, pulling the bodice forward so that Angel’s arms could sneak out. Once they were free, he covered his chest with them, suddenly feeling very exposed even though it was just them and Fat Nuggets in his room right now. Angel felt Husk’s hands follow the bodice to where it was bunching up at his hips. He followed Husk’s movements with his mind, feeling as he lowered the fabric until it fell to the floor.

Once the dress was off, Angel felt Husk’s hands falter at his waist. His fingers played with the fabric of his panties–snapping the elastic against Angel’s skin. Angel shuddered as Husk’s face dipped lower, kissing a trail all the way from his back to his hip.

“Step out for me?” Husk whispered against hip.

Angel complied, stepping to the side so that Husk could pick up the dress off the floor. Once Husk picked it up, he draped it over his arm and presented it to Angel. Angel swallowed hard, taking the garment and avoiding eye contact with Husk. He walked towards the bathroom, grabbing the hanger he’d taken it off of and hanging it on the back of the door to deal with later. Fat Nuggets seemed to have followed him over, nudging his snout against Angel's leg. He looked below him, watching as Nugs chose to lie in Angel's discarded street clothes.

Suddenly, Angel heard Husk from the other side of his room.

“Let me take off your shoes.”

Angel felt his entire body reduce to jelly. There he stood in the doorway of his bathroom–his arms covered in goosebumps and his skin pinkening at his cheeks. His legs were damn close to giving out from under him…and Husk wanted to continue? Husk was clearly trying to kill him–why else would be trying to turn him on like this?

Angel tried to deny him, deny himself, but he left the doorway immediately. He walked slowly, giving Husk a show as he sauntered over. Angel liked to believe that his gate was laden with confidence–but he knew in his heart that he had the grace of a chicken as he stumbled over to Husk. He wasn’t normally this nervous, but there was something about Husk’s gaze that unnerved him.

Angel stopped just shy of Husk, giving him a moment to take him in. Angel was in nothing but his emerald green pumps and his black panties. Lesser men would have fucking died seeing him like this. But, Husk simply beckoned him to take a seat on his bed. Angel wasted no time and sat down on the edge of the bed. He kept his knees together, looking up at Husk.

Husk got down on one knee in front of Angel’s legs. He looked up at him, his eyes half-lidded as he reached for Angel’s calf. When his fingers made contact with his skin, Angel jolted a bit but ultimately rested in Husk’s hand. Husk let his fingers trail down his leg, moving slowly towards his ankle. Finally, they reached the flower detailing along the heel of his pump. Husk took extra care as he slipped it off of him, placing it beside him on the floor.

Angel’s breath caught in his throat as he felt Husk’s lips against his shin, peppering kisses all the way up to his knee. When Angel felt his hot breath on his inner thigh, Angel fell back against the bed, covering his face with his hands.

“Fuck, Husky,” Angel breathed.

Husk made a noise in the back of his throat–like he was goading Angel. Smug bastard.

Husk immediately switched to Angel’s other thigh, his lips using where Angel’s thighs met as a bridge. Angel felt his stomach drop as the kisses continued down his shin. Husk lifted up Angel’s leg and he slowly took off his other shoe. Placing them together on the floor, Angel hoped that the torture was over.

That was until Husk lifted Angel’s left leg in the air and spread his legs to compensate for his hips as he stood. Angel moved his fingers enough to look at Husk as he thrust himself against Angel. He moaned against his fingers, dropping his hands so that he could lift himself up onto his elbows.

“Angel,” Husk said, his voice thick.

Angel didn’t reply so much as he did whine, “Yeah?”

Husk lowered his body against Angel’s moving his hips forward, coaxing another moan from him. Husk stopped just short of Angel’s mouth, his arms keeping him in place.

“Do you want this?” Husk asked, his hips pressing firmly against Angel once again.

Angel writhed against the pressure, he moaned instead of answering.

“It’s already yours,” Husk dipped his head low, pressing a kiss to Angel’s chin. “I’m already yours.”

Angel Dust realized quickly what Husk meant, and Angel couldn’t help but hesitate for a moment. Angel’s eyes met Husk’s and he saw his reflection in them. Angel looked scared.

“Do you want me?” Husk asked, pulling himself away.

In a split-second decision, Angel closed his legs around Husk, preventing him from moving any farther away.

“I’m serious, kid,” Husk said, resting on his knees. He grabbed fistfuls of Angel’s thighs. “You gotta tell me if you want all this.”

Angel lifted himself up more, so that his arms were keeping him upright. He looked at Husker in the eyes, one at a time. Angel opened his mouth to say something, anything–

“I can’t be some fling to you, kid,” Husk said finally.

Angel tightened his legs around Husk and grabbed him with his lower set of hands. When Husk fell forward, Angel caught his face in his waiting set. He kissed him deeply, pressing his hips up to meet Husk’s. Husk pressed his right hand against the bed, his left weaving into Angel’s hair. Angel led the charge, kissing one of his lips at a time and getting Husk lost in the rhythm of it.

Then, once Husk resigned himself to keeping himself up with his upper body alone, he slid his right hand along Angel’s side–

In one quick movement, Angel flipped them over so that he was on top. Angel broke their kiss, letting Husk fall to the mattress below them. Angel straddled him, both sets of his arms caressing Husk’s chest and abdomen. He looked down at him, eyes sweeping over his knit brow to his parted lips. Husk raised himself onto his elbows and Angel pushed him back down.

“I can’t be some fling to you,” Angel said, pressing his finger against Husk’s chest.

Angel meant every word. He looked down at Husk, letting his expression speak for itself. He lowered himself onto Husk, kissing a trail up his stomach to his chest. He stopped when he got to the sensitive flesh of his neck, peppering wet kisses all the way to his ear.

“I want this,” Angel whispered, grabbing Husk’s hand and pressing it to his own chest. Angel let him feel how quickly his heart was beating. “I want you.”

Husk grabbed Angel’s arm and pulled him down to continue their kiss. Their lips moved against each other at a feverish pace, parting only to breathe or let a moan escape as they fought for more friction below. Then, just as quickly as their kiss began, Angel separated them. He sat back, his ass resting comfortably against Husk’s groin.

“Husky,” Angel breathed, the reddening of his cheeks worsening by the second.

Husk responded to his nickname being called by thrusting his hips upward.

Angel moaned in response, lifting himself off of Husk to prevent it from recurring. He looked down at Husk, eyes narrowing. “Husky, do you want me?”

“Yes.”

Angel looked down at him, “You didn’t even consider–

“I don’t need to.” Husk shook his head. “I’ve wanted you since you rigged that game.”

Angel thought back, remembering the exact moment clearly. He’d rolled three napkin balls and placed them underneath the jiggers–all without Husk noticing. Angel was suddenly embarrassed, awakening the nerves that he’d felt back then all over again. He was a nervous wreck after he’d given Husk his “present”. He felt the flush overtake his face–of course Husk knew he’d rigged it–he cleaned up their game after Angel ran off.

Angel sat back down, a hand going to his face to obscure Husk’s view of him. Husk replied by rising from the bed, propping himself up with his hands as he followed Angel’s meek expression despite his attempts to shield it. Husk grabbed Angel’s face with his right hand, dragging it towards him to press their lips together again. Angel melted towards him, coaxing Husk to lie back down onto the mattress. When he was in position, Angel separated their lips, propping himself up by pushing on Husk’s shoulders. Once he was seated again, he dragged his hands down Husk’s chest, his fingers tracing the bands of his suspenders.

Husk tucked his left shoulder in, his hand moving the band to the side. When he reached for the other one, Angel stopped him. He took in the sight below him. He was stradling Husk, his outfit all disheveled, his cheeks red and his mouth wanting. Angel slid his hands farther down, meeting the button of Husk’s pants. Husk inhaled sharply once Angel’s hand brushed against his cock.

Angel took him out, his hand feeling every inch that Husk had tucked away. He looked below him, where Husk’s eyebrows were knitting together and his teeth dug into his lip. It seemed that Husk’s stunt earlier had gotten them both a little hot and bothered because the only thing Angel could think about was–

Instead of just thinking about it, Angel leaned forward and reached into the drawer of his bedside table. The sooner he was all lubed up, the sooner he could…his eyes flicked down to Husk, who followed Angel’s hand all the way to the bottle of lube he grabbed. Husk didn’t hesitate to steal it from him, no doubt knowing exactly what Angel’s plan was. Working quickly, Husk spread the lube along two of his fingers before dropping the bottle beside them. He then forced Angel forward, pressing his slick digits against Angel’s entrance.

“You’re not getting off that easy,” Husk whispered.

Angel gasped, feeling the cool jelly warm up against his skin. Husk circled around the tight ring of muscle slowly, rubbing along the rim every so often to keep Angel engaged. And how could he be anything but enthralled? Angel arched his ass upwards to give Husk a better angle as he pressed one finger inside–which Angel responded to with a hearty moan.

With his free hand, Husk pulled Angel in for another kiss, which he continued for as long as he stretched him. By the time Husk pulled away, they were both gasping with saliva trailing between their lips, and Husk had been curling three fingers inside Angel.

After they both recovered, Angel stood up on his knees slowly. Then, he grabbed Husk’s cock and gave it a slow stroke as he positioned himself above it. Before lowering himself, Angel paused, his eyes going right to Husk’s.

“Tell me that you want me again, Husky,” Angel breathed out his request.

Husk lifted himself up, his palms dragging along Angel’s hips and thighs. He looked up at him–eyes boring into Angel until all he could feel was Husk’s gaze. “I want you,” his gravelly voice said before lowering his eyes so he could pepper kisses along Angel’s abdomen.

Angel pushed his panties out of the way and lowered himself down, his entrance giving way to the head of Husk’s cock far too slowly for either of their liking. Angel moaned as he took him in, grabbing onto Husk’s shoulders to ground him. Husk hissed as he felt each inch of his cock disappear inside Angel–loving every second of the sensation.

“Fuck, Angel,” Husk said, his fingers digging into Angel’s hips.

When Angel was satisfied that Husk was buried in him, he rose slightly and the motion shocked both of them. Angel held Husk close, obscuring his face in his fluff as he rotated his hips. The two of them moaned together–their voices seeming to harmonize as Angel slowly got used to his length. Before long, Angel was bouncing, the sounds of skin hitting skin echoing in the room.

Angel leaned back, his bottom right hand catching Husk’s thigh and stabilizing him as he continued. Angel closed his eyes, focusing on nothing but the tantalizing pleasure he was feeling. However, Angel soon felt Husk tugging at the waistband of his panties. He looked down, continuing the pace he’d set with no trouble.

Then, Husk palmed Angel’s cock and he moaned, feeling a wave of intense pleasure wash over him. He moaned again when Husk began stroking it in earnest. Angel returned his top row of hands to Husk’s shoulders, with his bottom ones, he sought Husk’s blurring hand.

“Husky,” Angel whimpered from above, “I’ll cum if you keep that up.”

Husk captured Angel’s mouth, separating his lips and pressing his tongue forward. Angel reciprocated, his stomach dropping from the intensity of their kiss. Angel moaned against his lips, swirling his tongue along Husk’s–not caring as saliva dripped from his mouth.

“Husky,” Angel whimpered into his mouth, feeling like every part of him that Husk was touching was liable to burst into flames.

“You gonna cum for me?” Husk asked, his voice dripping with lust.

Angel felt Husk begin to thrust his hips upwards, interrupting his pattern–however, it didn’t stop the tension in his gut that was slowly building. Instead, it pushed him closer to the edge as he realized that for as loud as he was being, Husk was moaning right along with him. In this moment, they were connected, sharing every action as one.

Angel moved his mouth to the side, his voice wavering. “Shit, Husky, I’m so close–

“I’ve got you,” Husk said, wrapping his arms tightly around Angel–his fingers stretching across his back and ass.

Angel bounced on Husk’s cock with reckless disregard as he let himself go. He trusted Husk to hold onto him, and he didn’t let go even when Angel was moving erratically. Angel could feel his orgasm building and building–

Angel captured Husk’s lips in a quick kiss before his ass clenched around Husk’s cock. As soon as their lips made contact, Angel reached his breaking point. He moaned loudly into Husk’s mouth, gasping as came. Husk kept pace with Angel, riding out his orgasm with him. Angel let his head fall to the side, gasping for air as his hips stilled and his legs turned to jelly.

“Fuck,” Angel said after a while, “Fuck.”

Husk chuckled, kissing Angel on the cheek as he came down from his high. He dipped his head lower, giving Angel some well deserved kisses on his neck and shoulder.

Angel felt Husk’s cock pulsate inside him, and he lifted his head. “It’s your turn,” Angel said as he propped himself up on Husk’s shoulders again.

Husk hummed in agreement, nuzzling Angel’s neck before grabbing his hips and flipping him over. Angel landed on the mattress, a dazed look on his face as their eyes met once more.

“You want it like this?” Angel cooed, his tone soft and sweet.

“I wanna look in your eyes,” Husk breathed out before he thrust his hips forward.

Angel gasped at the feeling, his ass adjusting to the movement yet again. He raised his legs, wrapping them around Husk’s back as he continued to fuck him. He met Husk’s gaze, watching as every minute sensation registered on his face. He watched as his brow furrowed, his cheeks pinkened, watched his teeth grind together when he found a rhythm he liked.

Husk propped himself up using his left arm, which he placed next to Angel’s head. His other hand crawled its way down Angel’s side, to his hip and then finally to his thigh. He tightened his grip, forcing them closer still. Angel moaned, forcing their mouths together quickly. Husk kissed him deep and fast, parting only to continue their eye contact.

Husk followed every movement of Angel’s eyes, and it bewildered him–but it was by no means a turn off. In fact, there was something about the heat in his gaze that made Angel feel butterflies in his stomach. Angel smiled up at him, his eyes softening. Angel wrapped all of his arms around Husk, one set feeling the expanse of his back, the other gently clawing at his ass.

“Angel,” Husk moaned, his pace getting noticeably more erratic.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Angel said, hugging him closer, lifting his hips so that Husk could have a better angle.

Husk went feral for a moment, losing himself in the motion–but keeping his eyes locked to Angel’s. He watched as Husk’s eyes narrowed with concentration and Angel could see the need in them. Then, almost as quickly as Angel recognized the emotion–it disappeared.

Husk pulled out quickly, his hips rocking forward as his cock shot out jet after jet of cum. Angel stroked Husk’s back with all four hands, staying with him as he breathed deeply. Their eyes never wavered–and Angel got to watch a new emotion fill Husk’s eyes.

Devotion.

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#Blacklist #Hazbin Hotel #hazbin hotel fic #Husk #Angel Dust #angelhusk #Huskerdust

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