treehobii05
treehobii05
Troy
108 posts
he/him multi fandom || might have some nsfw contents
Last active 3 hours ago
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treehobii05 · 3 hours ago
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I'd love to see more on Parker turning making out into a competition!
SUMMARY: parker turns kissing into a competition. it gets very, very side tracked.
WARNINGS: uhhh making out. tongue stuff. its not suggestive i think its very fluffy actually. but yk.
COMMENTS: YES ANON o7 i havent written anything like this in. checks watch. two years? so pardon me if its rusty (i hope its not T0T)
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We each roll a die. The number that comes up is how many times we kiss the other person. Whoever breaks first loses.
Parker knows this was his idea. And sure, maybe it wasn’t the best one he’s had, but you seem pretty damn enthused about it. Resting on the table, is a single die. Resting on his thighs, is the comfortable weight of your body. And resting on your warm, soft hips, are his shaking hands.
Your face is nothing short of calm, hearts floating in your pupils as you look at him. He wants to say something so badly, to rattle off some rules just so he can regain some control of the situation, but nothing comes out of his dry throat. His mouth simply trembles like a fish out of water, and for the first time ever he’s curling in on himself, shy.
He knows what you want. it’s so obvious just based on the way you’re looking at him. It was his idea, his fantasy, so he couldn’t back out now. Not when you were right here, mere centimeters away, your faces so close together. He can feel your hot breath on his lips. The silence drags on, and if he doesn’t say anything now you might just spend all night taking in each pore of his face.
He opens his mouth. You beat him to it.
“Do you want to roll? Or should I roll first?” you murmur, caressing his multicolored hair, “I will say, I’m a bit sad you only gave us one die...we could have kissed twice as much if you brought a second one down.”
“I—fuck, uh—should I get one?” he babbles, staring at the wall right past your head.
“No. I don't want to get up,” you wave off his concerns, leaning into his chest, “Let me roll first.”
He’d let you do anything you damn well pleased just so long as you kept yourself pressed against him. It felt so good to be this close to you. Fuck, he’s whipped. Parker hopes you never leave his thighs.
“Four,” you whisper, cupping his cheek—he missed the roll while fantasizing about you, but here you were, real and breathing and wanting and—
He shrieks a bit when you kiss him, his eyes going wide. Everyone has a different kiss—Parker has never kissed anyone else, but in that moment, he knows it to be true, because who else could have a kiss as good as yours?
He can’t breathe. He’s frozen, unable to move. No, he doesn’t dare move, because what if you vanish into thin air and he’s left all alone in the attic again?
You pull away. The second your wet lips part and release a soft sigh, his hand flies to the back of your head, yanking you back into him and into a crushing kiss.
It’s all consuming, the way his hands fly to cup your face, to keep you there. You gasp against him, your teeth knocking against his before he eases up. Parker isn’t a good kisser, and you didn’t expect him to be—but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a fast learner. As if he’s learning the rules to a game, he applies less pressure, works his way around your mouth, pulls your lower lip in between his teeth and nips, making a soft noise of interest in the back of his throat when you shiver. Parker doesn’t let up, kissing you longer and longer, until you’re running out of air and have to brace yourself against his chest.
“Air, baby,” you pant, no longer sitting directly on his lap but hovering over him, taking in the sight of Parker’s beet red face and kiss bruised lips.
“Uh huh,” he nods sloppily, totally blissed out.
“Parker, that was two kisses. Are you already done?” you huff, amused.
He shakes his head like a dog trying to dry off, and snaps back into his competitive attitude faster than you would have thought. Your arms drape around his neck, and you sink down just enough to bump your forehead against his. There’s something beautiful about the softness of the moment, something sweet and kind that warms your belly, but you can’t deny that the desperation Parker showed you earlier made you more eager to continue were you had stopped. His hand finds the back of your head and gently scratches the nape of your neck.
Parker is back on you before you can blink, guiding your head down to meet his waiting lips. He’s slow, inexperienced, but he doesn’t have to be the best kisser in the world to make you happy. He just has to be himself, with his jittery legs that are starting to bounce and his hands that won’t stop shaking. He parts from you for just a second to take a comically deep breath before he dives in for the fourth and final kiss, daring to try something new.
You squeak when his tongue presses against your lips, flicking back into his mouth a second later. You can feel Parker about to pull away, as if embarrassed that he even asked, but you latch onto the back of his head and press your tongue against his lips in turn.
Parker whines, low in his throat, parting his lips for your tongue. His hands find their way back to your hips, his thumb catching on the hem of your shirt, and he finds that the space between your bodies has grown much, much warmer. It’s frustrating that he can’t get closer to you, that he can’t merge with you until you’re both one being, together forever and never apart like you used to be, leaving him every night because the Dateviators needed to charge, leaving him all alone over and over again with the memory of your soft voice and touch to hold him at night—
He breaks the kiss with a ragged gasp, and rushes in for another, only to be stopped by your finger. He opens his eyes, looking like a kicked puppy at your breathless expression.
“Only four, remember? It’s your turn now,” you say, like he didn’t completely take over your turn and start kissing the life out of you.
Refusing to part from you for even a moment, Parker flails behind him for the dice, managing to grasp it and roll it on the floor beside the couch.
He rolls a one.
He whines pathetically, bonking his head against your sternum. You laugh softly, stroking the back of his head.
“You just have to make it a good one, Parker. Make it count. You know that,” you reassure him.
“I want to kiss you forever,” he pleads, lifting his head up just enough to make eye contact with you, “We...We should get married.”
You laugh again, but it’s not cruel. It’s the laugh of someone in love, so warm and adoring and heartfelt, the type of laugh that makes you cry a little because you cherish the person in front of you so much you couldn’t bear being separated from them for even a moment longer than necessary.
It feels lovely, to hear that kind of laugh from you.
You, the absolute deity that you are, have mercy on him, and calm with bristling energy with a soft kiss. Technically it’s his turn so he should be initiating, but everything that he is—aside from your lover—turns to mush at your kiss. Parker softens against you, soothed by your touch, running his fingertips along the curves and edges of your face until he can picture you behind his closed lids. He burns you into his retinas, worshipping the taste and sound of you, so that he’ll never forget it.
You pull away and he jolts forward, trying to follow you, but stops when he realize what his body is doing.
“We should get married. I think that’s a good idea,” you reply softly, “I’m sorry I didn’t answer immediately. You were just so cute, I had to kiss you.”
This cannot be the last time you two do this. It just can’t.
“Again. Please.” he begs.
Fuck, how do people not die every time they kiss their lovers? Parker feels like he’s been gone since you sat in his lap. It’s unthinkable that he could be anything but coherent right now and you pull him into another kiss, threading your fingers through his hair, giggling and smiling and laughing as you two pull away, then come back together, your die left on the floor.
Please.
You kiss him again.
Please, please, please—
Again, and again, and again.
You’re so good to him. Too good to him. His hand trails down your arm and stops at your left hand, the pads of his fingertips toying with the flesh at the base of your ring finger.
He imagines a golden ring, nestled between your digits—a promise of forever as he kisses you again.
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treehobii05 · 3 hours ago
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more jerry art, he's trapped, free my guy! (i was going to color it in but like... im a busy (lazy) guy yknow???)
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treehobii05 · 3 hours ago
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GoldenShower ♥️
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. . .
Other variants (text/shadings) - v
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Hope you liek !
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treehobii05 · 15 hours ago
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repost cause i forgot parker's tattos TT
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don't mind my sona being their third...
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treehobii05 · 2 days ago
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hello tumblr, again...
anyways diceplay!!! or rollplay idk
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treehobii05 · 2 days ago
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I LOVE YOU PARKER BRADLEY!!!! 🎲🧩🎉
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treehobii05 · 2 days ago
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PARKERRRRR
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treehobii05 · 2 days ago
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Even though you're a filthy fuckin cheater, I still love ya😭!
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treehobii05 · 5 months ago
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more metal boyfriends making out with tongue piercings
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treehobii05 · 5 months ago
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BRAUN & HOOVER
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treehobii05 · 5 months ago
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Bertl’s daily adventures
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treehobii05 · 5 months ago
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[read from right to left] One night I though about this scene and I had to draw it.
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treehobii05 · 5 months ago
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wow
Bonus:
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treehobii05 · 5 months ago
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can I draw these two nerds for the rest of my life please
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treehobii05 · 5 months ago
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giant babies
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treehobii05 · 5 months ago
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OK
Keep reading
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treehobii05 · 5 months ago
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HI I’m back
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