#and to me marlene just is not one of them

[oneawkwardwriter]

So High School

pairing: James Potter x fem!reader warnings/tags: none except some teeth rotting fluff, possibly inaccurate Quidditch team (I didn't know everyone's positions), allusions to suggestive content?, no use of Y/n summary: just James being an absolutely amazing boyfriend totally not self-insert what- a/n: and thus begins the saga of me taking Taylor Swift songs and turning them into stories about fictional characters. Don't even act like you're surprised, you shouldn't be by now <3 Also, I've been wanting to write for James but couldn't get it right, so a little thank you to Miss Taylor for making this possible wc: 0.8k

"And another goal made by Gryffindor chaser James Potter!" Remus shouts into the microphone while he reacts to the latest Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. "That is three in a row for Gryffindor. Sorry, Ravenclaw, it seems like you'll have no chance of winning today, better forfeit already-"

He is cut off by Professor McGonagall taking the mic out of his hands, "Don't get forget to stay objective, Mr. Lupin," She says, just loud enough for the microphone to pick it up, but the crowd is too busy cheering to hear it.

James does a victory lap on his broom, flying close to the crowd. When he comes close to your section, he sends a quick wink in your direction. You lightly chuckle and roll your eyes when a couple of first years nearly faint from being so close to their unrequited hallway crush.

Not that you can entirely blame them, seeing as you yourself still can't shake the giddy feeling of butterflies whenever James wraps his arms around you. Sure, you'd been dating for about half a year, but somehow he still managed to make your heart skip a beat.

Not long after, the match is over when Marlene manages to catch the Snitch. Louds cheers erupt once more from the spectators on the stands, and soon enough, they're running onto the field to greet the victors.

You're pulled along in the flood of people, practically carried towards the field until the crowd parts for the Gryffindor team. You smile as you lock eyes with James, who practically storms right at you before trapping you in a bear hug, slightly lifting you off the crowd.

"That was amazing!" You say as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. "You did so great out there."

"Only because my lucky charm was in the stands," James replies, burying his face in your neck as he grins, "Couldn't have done it without you cheering me on." You chuckle, knowing arguing against him would be pointless even though you know he's a great player whether you're there or not.

The celebrations continued in the Gryffindor common room, the firewhiskey flowing while people cheered, laughed and talked to each other. Throughout the entire night, James held you practically glued to his hip: always an arm around your shoulders or waist, kissing the top of your head or your cheek.

"-And then Mary fired that Bludger at the Ravenclaw Seeker, and I ducked down for the Quaffle, and then-" James rants about the game, completely caught up in his story.

"Remember to breathe, James. We don't need you passing out," Remus says, making everyone laugh and James shake his head.

"Oh please, as if I could breathe when this one here takes my breath away the entire time," James quips, "Not that I mind, though. I'd gladly pass out if it meant you sitting next to me in the hospital wing."

"James!" You exclaim.

"What? It's true," He responds shamelessly as he shrugs, making the others shake their heads and chuckle.

As if you weren't already glued to his side, James pulls you even closer to him, making you laugh when his breath tickles the nape of your neck.

"Oh come on, can you two act even more like high school sweethearts? We're getting cavities from looking at you " Sirius groans, to which you only raise an eyebrow and reply with, "That's rich coming from the guy who had his tongue down his boyfriend's throat less than a minute ago."

"I don't see the relevance of you pointing that out, but alright," Sirius replies with mock-ignorance as he sits close to Remus, who nuzzles his face in Sirius's nape and softly smiles.

As the night progressed, the firewhiskey started to take over your systems, making you a bit more bold and unfiltered.

"You know, sometimes I still don't understand how we got together," You say, slightly slurring your words as you look at James.

"Oh god, here we go again," Sirius sighed, turning to Remus, "James is going to confess his undying love for her again."

"Hey, I can't help it that this perfect angel walked into my life, you have Remus to blame for that," James shrugged as he kisses your cheek for the millionth time that night.

You and Remus had been friends ever since first year, finding companionship in your shared love for literature and classic history. James swears he fell for you when you were rambling about the works of some ancient philosopher, claiming that you could light up an entire city with the energy you put into it.

"Well, I don't know about perfect angel, but thank you anyway," You say, resting your head on James's shoulder as you whisper in his ear. "I love you, James."

"I love you too, love."

© This work belongs to @oneawkwardwriter, please do not copy this work to any other site or claim it as your own. Reblogs are allowed and appreciated!

Taglist: @unofficialxmarvelfreak

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#writeblr #divider by saradika #x reader fics #oneawkwardwriter fics #fanfic writing #so high school #james potter x reader #james poter imagine #james potter fic #james potter x fem!reader #just adorable fluff #it's teeth-rotting fluff #sry not sry #taylor swift #wolfstar #I do not support jkr

[autistpride]

Autism Acceptance

Prompt 10: Restaurant AU

Wordcount: 600

@wolfstarmicrofic

“Sirius, could you get table three for me?” Marlene asked Sirius, “I need a smoke break.” 

“Ya sure of course,” Sirius called back before walking over to the table in question and pulling out his notepad and pen. “What can I get for you?” 

“I’m sorry we need a little more time,” a red haired girl said.

Sirius glanced between the two people sitting at the small table and nodded before turning on his heel. Sirius watched from across the dining floor as the red haired teen whispered to the mousy brown haired boy that Sirius assumed was her boyfriend as they looked nothing alike. She seemed worried or anxious Sirius couldn’t tell. The boy seemed to be stressed and upset despite not having even ordered their meals yet. 

Sirius walked back over after a few minutes, “is there anything I can help you with?” He asked.

“No no I’m sorry but we still aren’t ready yet,” She said apologetically.

Sirius looked over at the boy who sat with his head in his hands. 

“Hey, do you need some help?” Sirius asked and the boy didn’t respond.

“You don't have his usual on the menu anymore. He gets it every time. When he tried to order it earlier, the other worker said it wasn’t on the menu. So we’re just trying to find something else.” 

“Ah, I see.” Sirius said softly before noticing the rainbow infinity pin. Sirius knelt down near the teen boy. “Hey, what’s your name?”

“That’s Remus and I’m Lily,” the red haired girl spoke before Remus had a chance to talk. 

“Thank you Lily,” Sirius said sincerely before asking Remus, “What was your usual?”

Remus glanced over at Sirius, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. After a minute he responded quietly, “California chicken sandwich.

Sirius grinned, “One California chicken sandwich with chips coming right up.”

Remus’ jaw dropped in surprise, “really?”

“Ya really. Anything special I should make sure to tell the cook?” Sirius asked.

Remus worried his lip again and shook his head no. He didn’t want to push his luck.

“Come on Remus. I can tell you want to say something. What is it?” Sirius asked, leaning down. “You can even whisper it to me like it’s a secret.” 

Remus knocked his fists together a few times and then whispered, “I like when they have a smile.”

Sirius's face scrunched up in thought and then nodded. “On it.”

Twenty minutes later Sirius brought out the plates of food. Sirius was glad James was working as the cook that day. He was always willing to make special orders when Sirius asked. 

Sirius set Lily’s food down in front of her and then Remus’ down in front of him. 

Remus looked up at Sirius with widened golden eyes and Sirius winked and said, “I hope you enjoy your meals”. Remus gently pried the top bun off the sandwich and made a very excited squeak. 

Sirius had placed the pickles to be two eyes. He made the eyebrows, pupils, and nose from mustard and the mouth from ketchup. He carefully arranged the lettuce around the top as if it was hair and the avocado around the bottom as if it was shoulders. 

“Woah,” Lily exclaimed from across the table.

When Remus looked up Sirius had vanished. 

The person bringing them their check was their original wait staff and Remus frowned in disappointment. 

“I hope you both had a lovely date,” she said.

“Oh! We’re not together!” Lily said laughing. 

“I’m quite gay,” Remus said, “no offence Lils”

Marlene passed Remus something.

She gave him Sirius’ number.

#mauraders #actually audhd #wolfstar #my writing #autistic remus #autism acceptence month

[rewritingcanon]

I have a probably controversial Marauders fandom take of my own, but what is it with the weird ageism towards women in the fancasts, especially coming from a fandom that’s mainly female.

Don’t get me wrong, I also agree that a 30-40something woman would indeed be too old to play a high schooler, but it seems like every 5 years only the popular female fancasts get younger replacements.

For example, Lily Evans: First it was Karen Gillan, then it was Sophie Skelton, and now it’s Annalise Basso (i’ve also recently seen like two or three fancasts with Harley Haisley, a tiktoker that recently turned 18, as Lily and one of them still used Aaron Taylor Johnson as the James of that fancast), yet the popular male fancasts are the same ones from 2012, despite the fact that Ben Barnes and Andrew Garfield are in their 40’s and older than all of these “old women” that were fancasted in the past.

I get that the edits are using young footage, and I actually really like Beabadoobee as Marlene and Sofia Bryant as Mary when the 2012 fancast is out of the picture, but what is the excuse behind the female fancasts getting replaced every few years? are the current young female fancasts going to get that same treatment in the future while Timothee Chalamet still remains as Regulus in his 30’s-40’s?

Maybe it’s not that deep, maybe I’m overthinking it, but it’s all so bizarre to me.

bro i am not caught up on the fancasts in the marauders fandom im so sorry. like i know of atj and ben barnes and andrew for the main three but aint got a clue about no one else (except timothee chalamet… that one is fairly popular and ive gotten complaints about him as regulus on here before). so im afraid i cant add much to the discourse 😭

it very much couldddd me misogyny. it could also be because girls are customising themselves better? they just look more interesting than boys, no offence to men. personally i find it much easier to fancast girl characters than boy characters so that might be a factor, but im not sure about the dynamics in the marauders fandom!!

#harley haisley as lily is criminal though im sorry #like ur right she is too young bro 😭 i always saw her as lily luna or a young ginny if anything #and is sofia bryant not mary anymore?? theyre changing her?? what 😭 #lily evans #marauders #marauders fancast #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #mary macdonald #james potter #remus lupin #regulus black #harry potter #hp #ask #anon #rewriting

[sceirlose]

I feel like all the Skittles have SOME sort of weird thing that's going on with them. Tw mentions of blood and dissecting

Barty is batshit crazy. Wild, messy, and all over the place. Almost terrifying. He makes ur mom jokes and threatens to kill or hurt or fuck someone who's messing with him. He also learned how to do his own tatoos and piercings, thats why he has a new tattoo or piercing every month. He finds it fun and silly to be stabbing his ear and shoving a piercing through it, likes the sting cause it gives him adrenaline

And there's Pandora who says the most out of pocket shit. She has weird visions sometimes and seems to be everywhere and knows everything. And she's so incredibly calm while saying the wildest shit ever that it scares some people. People never hear her footsteps, and she just shows up randomly. Her voice is so calm and peaceful that it really doesn't fit her liking in scary creatures

Then Evan, who is just as off-putting as his sister. Unlike Barty, who is chaotic, he's more reserved and calm. But sometimes does creepy stuff and acts like it's normal. He is weirdly fascinated with disecting humans and animals. Also has a weird interest in teeth and dead animal corpses. He probably learned how to preserve them somehow. He has a like thing where dead butterflies are stuck to and he wakes up everyday to admire it as a way to start his day.

Dorcas has an interest in lucid dreaming and shifting and all things psychological. Sometimes she'll say stuff like "oh I sent a message to you in your dreams, you got it, right?" Most of the time, you probably won't get it, but it happens sometimes. Mostly to the slytherin Skittles and Marlene. She also learned to do nonverbal spells earlier in her years because it helps give her more control over her own mind. She has definitely learned and did research on why the imperius curse does what it does to its victims

And Regulus, though never to admit out loud, fucking loves astrology. He learned about it through Pandora, and since then he's been doing astrological readings. He just finds it cool how something like a time of birth, the position of a planet, the moon phase of your birth, and all can say a lot about a person.

Anyways it might not fit some characters but it's how I think of them and I love them this way cause imagine like Pandora walking up to Barty and say "certain plants can bloom above dead corpses" and Barty suggests that they have to see it happen for themselves

Or Dorcas coming up reg like "did you get my message?" And Regulus said "yeah, it's written in the stars that your relationship will go well don't worry and stop pestering me in my dreams"

Or Barty making a new piercing and Evan suggesting that he should make a piercing out of one of his insects legs and Barty was really close to doing it before Reg stopped them

Or Regulus catching squirrels for Pandora to keep in her little squirrel cage and have as a pet that'll probably die because Evan keeps feeding it the wrong food

Sometimes, the Skittles all get hurt except for Dorcas, and she says stuff like "yeah because the universe is protecting me. I'm their favourite mortal"

Barty getting slightly unsettled and maybe a bit flustered when he sees Evan so focused on learning how to use his new dissecting tool, just tweaking it here and there for his own liking yk

Regulus in a bad mood cause today's horoscope says that it's going to be shit.

Yeah they're weird

#slytherin skittles #dorcas meadowes #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #pandora rosier #pandora lovegood #regulus black #dinara hcs

[spacexcowgirl]

and if I say my marlene is more jo maskin than renee rapp will the people hear me….

#rose rambles #ESPECIALLY with the recent switch to blonde #unfortunately we as a fandom have created too many femme lesbians #and to me marlene just is not one of them #marlene mckinnon

[her-midas-touch]

marylily coming back to their apartment after parties stumbling to the door just full on making out, smiling against messy kisses with their hands all over each other while one of them uselessly fumbles with opening the door and they stumble into the hallway not breaking apart, nearly tripping over themselves with just this giddy wanting to be so torturously close to each other like it’ll never truly be close enough.

#this is totally not me thinking about giddy schoolgirls marylily #like they are a great team but then they have these moments where it feels like a guilty pleasure kind of rush #also this makes me think of them sneaking away to kiss in corners at hogwarts and they’re careful to not get caught #but then there’s knowing smiles exchanged at all the times they both happen to mysteriously disappear at the same times #and little comments about “mary corrupting the head girl��� (which lily denies) #(but ofc no one believes her because the flush gives her away when the grin that threatens to break her face doesn’t) #(that woman does not hide it please she will be trying to bite back a grin and it’ll still show) #her walking in to the dorm with her tie crooked (hmm I wonder why) and marlene will raise her eyebrows with a smirk #asking her precisely what head girl duties she’s been out so late performing #and lily just mouths “not one more word out of you” #and refuses to elaborate but she’s making not so subtle heart eyes at mary at the table the next day lmaoo #marylily #mary macdonald #lily evans #the marauders #marauders era #marauders fandom #marauders

[saintchaser]

valentine's day headcanons

wolfstar

they have dates in the astronomy tower where they smoke and talk about anything and everything

sirius writes remus poetry, remus writes sappy cards (he tries to make his handwriting readable)

they avoid madam puddifut's. neither of them like it, it's too flashy for their taste. they've gone once, though; she was a dear, but the shop was not their kind of thing

the only day (when they share their cigarettes with each other) without bickering

hold hands under the table; love all the decorations that the school puts up

dorlene

their absolute favorite holiday as a couple, so they try to make the most of it

dorcas makes marlene jewelry, and marlene somehow manages to find flowers to give dorcas

their date is the three broomsticks and then zonko's. neither of them would miss a good prank, even on valentine's day

go off and crash everyone's dates for fun (none of them actually mind it)

stop by at madam puddifut's but they don't stay; they just say hi to her and off they go

jily

the king and queen of being saps

james writes very cheesy and extra poetry (think eyes as green as a fresh-pickled toad) and lily gives him little handmade gifts throughout the day

they love madam puddifut's, and they would go there even after they graduated

have breakfast in bed (james cooks it; lily always wakes up later than him, and she's not the best of cooks)

lily bakes cookies, though, with little hearts on them, white chocolate and cherry filling; james adores them

jegulus

regulus pretends to hate valentine's, but he doesn't fool anyone. when he's with james, everything's brilliant

regulus writes poetry; james brings regulus flowers, always a different sort ("a change of decor in your gloomy room, ay?")

they have a picnic outside, even though it's bloody freezing; they do some heating charms and they can keep staying there

lots of affection

raid the kitchens for sweets

jegulily

madam puddifut's! regulus pretends to hate it, says it's too pink, but he actually likes it, especially if he's there with his friends

lily gives both of them handmade gifts, regulus writes james poetry and lily, love letters, and james writes sappy poetry for lily and gives regulus flowers

at the end of the day, each of them has a huge bouquet of flowers to match

lily and james wear silly little valentine's outfits; at some point, regulus joins them in doing so, too, and they all love it

it's kind of become their thing

marylily

mary gives lily jewelry, lily gives mary flowers and sweets

they stay in their dorm, at least in the morning, doing each other's make up and trying on clothes

they have matchy valentine's outfits and make up

their dates always get crashed by dorcas and marlene but at the end of the day they just mix up and the whole thing becomes a double date

both of them stumble in the gryffindor tower with lipstick stains on their faces

xenodora

they both give the other knickknacks and cool rocjs they found

they walk, together, around hogsmeade and the grounds, and they visit hagrid to meet all the new weird animals he's gotten

xenophilius suggests hunting for nargles and pandora, although she knows they don't exist, joins him in his quest (she never saw anything, but xenophilius swore he saw something in the bush next to the forbidden forest)

they also have a picnic with food they made themselves

they give each other little kisses all the time

nobleflower

narcissa pretends to hate valentine's too, but she can't help herself when alice is her valentine

alice gives her sappy cards throughout the day, and narcissa writes her love letters and gives her jewelry

they spend most of the day in their dorm, giving each other makeover and trying on each other's clothes

alice makes the fudgiest brownie ever and she makes both of them two of them and they get eaten immediately

they're even more affectionate with each other tha usually

emmary

give each other (handmade) jewelry

talk about their crushes

always have picnics. it's their thing, and it doesn't matter when marlene and dorcas crash their date, they welcome them to join them, and it turns into a double date

hold hands literally everywhere, at all times

help put up the valentine's day decorations, and make some of them themselves. those always look the best out of all of them

#i didn't want to do just one of the ships so i did all of them LOL #if you want any of these as individual pieces feel free to tell me and i will do it for you #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #dorlene #dorcas meadowes #marlene mckinnon #jily #flowerpott #james potter #lily evans #jegulus #regulus black #jegulily #marylily #mary macdonald #xenodora #strangegift #xenophilius lovegood #pandora lovegood #nobleflower #alice longbottom #narcissa black #narcissa malfoy #emmary #emmeline vance #headcanons #marauders era headcanons #my writing

[marleneismydopamine]

lily evans and marlene mckinnon

- Ultimate opposites attract

- Lily leaves little notes in Marlenes bag that can just say little things like “I hope you have a nice day” or its a long ass poetic speech on why marlene is the greatest person she has ever met and is so lucky to have her as a friend. When marlene finds those ones she has to leave class to go cry in the bathroom.

- “You had a crush on me?” “Of course I did. Who wouldn’t?” except it goes both ways

- Imagine, head girl lily Evans who gets the highest grades in her year, has like 4 extra curricular activities and has never gotten a detention in her life, is dating stoner girl marlene McKinnon who literally only gives a fuck about 2 of her classes + quidditch and instead of doing her homework she spends all her time delving into whatever hyper fixation that has her in a death grip atm

- Love each other to bits but would rather die than be in a group project together

- Lily is the person who helps dye the back of Marlenes hair if she cant do it herself

- Act like an old married couple even though they insist they aren’t even dating

- Marlene has adhd and struggles with executive dysfunction and so she usually does her assignments in a caffeine fuelled haze at 2am the day before its due when she finally gets the adrenaline kick she needs to start, but she always gets the assignment submitted (maybe a few minutes late but still). And this generally stresses lily even without the added fear of relying on this “method” for her own grade. Which makes her pester marlene and that annoys marlene (and makes her feel really guilty).

- Marlene will rush outside without shoes if she sees it snowing and lilies behind her yelling to remember her coat

- And then lily takes care of marlene when she inevitably gets sick

- Those friends who REALLY blur the lines of platonicness

- Totally make out when theyre drunk and they both have been in love with each other at some point

- When lily is ready to burst into a pile of stress because of the high expectations she puts on herself to get a good grade, marlene is always there to distract her by whisking her away. Whether its just to the kitchens to bake something delicious or to sneak out to hogsmeade for the whole night to wonder the streets, it cheers lily up so much and makes her feel sane again

- They are both super protective of each other

- It took a really long time for them to open up to each other. They were both friends with Mary first which meant they were usually around each other but they never connected because lily hated the marauders in her younger years while marlene grew up with James and Peter so ofc she didnt like that some random girl was talking shit about her friends.

- In 3rd year Marlenes mother got remarried and she suddenly got a new stepsister and was really nervous about it (because she only has an older brother at that point) and asked lily for advice on having a sister. Obviously she soon decided she did not want a relationship like petunia and lilys but did bring marlene and lily closer.

- Lily and marlene have sensory issues and they can tell when the other is overstimulated so they do their best to make sure the other is in an environment that accommodates to their extreme discomfort (but sometimes they dont have control over their environment and it eats them up inside because they know how terrible the other is feeling and they cant help)

- Out of all of lilys friends, marlene was the loudest and most insistent that lily stops being friends with Snape. She knew the affect he had on lily way better than others because marlene was the one who found her sobbing her eyes out after Snape insulted her in front of his new friends for the gazillionth time. She was the one who always listened to her explain whatever bullshit he pulled and hugged lily for hours while she mourned what her friendship with Snape had become. And THEN marlene had to listen to lily justify why she was still friends with him just because he apologised and claims he’s going to do better. She is the one who saw the full extent of snapes impact on lily’s mental and emotional wellbeing and she was aware of how Snape manipulated lily into thinking how he was treating her was ok. She had absolutely no sympathy for him and always supported the marauders when they pranked him (even if they did go a bit too far) and occasionally joined in herself.

- They have matching friendship bracelets that they got in 4th year. Marlene was buried with it on her wrist.

#marlenes adhd is totally not me projecting… #definately not… #ok but these two are actually so adorable #i love them sm #i might start doing more incorrect quotes with just these two #part 2 of my marauders ship headcanons series #sorry it’s kinda late #i have no excuses #life just be like that sometimes #ship name: lilylene/ lilene (i’ve seen both versions before and idk which one is used more) #also seaflower or starflower (because lilies are flowers and marlene means star of the sea) #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #lilylene #lilene #marauders #marauders headcanons #marauders girls #marauders era

[lecliss]

I know I obsessed over it on my last playthrough, but I'm once again fucking EMOTIONAL over the kid asking Vincent to avenge his parents deaths. Like just. The silence. The fact that Vincent crouches down to the kid's level to let the kid know he's listening. Getting up and walking away without a single word to the kid. The refusal to be a part of more vengeance. And denying the kid any opportunity to be aided in an attempt at it. Like Vincent is genuinely so bad at talking to people and doesn't want to talk either, but he doesn't have to say anything in that scene for the intention to be clear. The world doesn't need to keep perpetuating that cycle and Vincent's not about to be an accomplice in that for a literal child.

#for as socially inept as he is and for as much as he hates talking and doing things and just everything really. hes still good with kids #hes quiet and patient with them and crouches down like with this kid and as annoyed by her as he is hes still there for yuffie #and he looks out for shelke AND MARLENE GOES TO HIM WHEN SHES MAD AT CLOUD AND HE OFFERS A HIDING SPOT IN HIS CAPE FOR HER #and since its vincent i doubt its even intentional. hes just got soke kind of paternal instinct #i have to wonder if grimoire was the same way when vincent was a kid and vincent got it from him without realizing #i mean. his one scene does imply he had a good caring relationship with vincent anyway so i would assume he was an awesome dad #it just fuckin makes me emotional man. vincent doesnt wanna take orders but when he does stuff himself hes so caring and selfless #even if he himself doesnt think or realize it #personal

[wrathful-ghosts]

Getting tifa at the gold saucer and just yelling “girl you can do so much better” the whole time

#honey sweety I know he wasn’t himself but this man did just push you into a reactor like a month ago #also girl barret is right there yall practically co parent Marlene already #cloud and tifa always seem so forced to me and it sucks cause I wanna like them so much but they’re so awkward and stunted the whole time #atleast with aerith the awkward is cute and funny #also I love you to but you gotta stop making shit heavy and sad everytime you have a moment. have fun one time #*two #ff7

[dangoulains-devotion]

thinking just a bit too hard about how the added depth given to tifa and aerith's friendship only increases the weight threatening to crush tifa after the forgotten capital, she already had so much to carry on her weary shoulders, she's going to have to carry even more when mideel happens, and it doesn't even stop after meteorfall, ohg od oh i love her so much i

#(sobbing and crying and snotting everywhere) AERITH GAVE HER SOMEONE TO CONFIDE IN ON SUCH A TUMULTUOUS JOURNEY #SOMEONE SHE COULD BE AS CLOSE TO FULLY RELAXED AS POSSIBLE #SOMEONE TO GOSSIP WITH OR SHARE HER CONCERNS OR JUST. BE A NORMAL GIRL WITH #YUFFIE'S THERE BUT SHE'S JUST A KID AND TIFA WOULD NEVER WANT TO HARM THE AIR OF CAREFREE CHILDISHNESS SHE MANAGES TO MAINTAIN EVEN IF #ITS BECAUSE YUFFIE IS HIDING THINGS THAT ARE CRUSHING HER #but poor tifa . gentle tifa. is now left to regret. to blame herself. #she has barret who acts like a father figure to her sure - but despite how much she cares about him and values her frienship with him #he's not aerith. he's not someone she can just gossip about first loves with. not someone she can fully Relate to. if you get what i mean #she is left to trace back the thread of how poor aerith got caught in this mess #she was the one to ask aerith to save marlene. but how did they get there? aerith refused to let cloud be a bystander in wall market #how did that happen? she made a risky choice that put her in a position where their paths crossed. why? because cloud was briefly lost #during the bombing mission. why did the bombing mission happen? she couldn't stop it. ETC ETC #NONE OF IT WAS HER FAULT... BUT SHE NEVER WANTED TO DRAG INNOCENT PEOPLE INTO THIS AT ANY SINGLE POINT #AND NOW SOMEONE WHO QUICKLY BECAME A CLOSE FRIEND IS GONE oh lord my heart #all of this added onto the things like how alone she was in nibelheim... it was just her and her dad for some years after the boys all left #and then the Incident happens and she loses that last person she had... and to an extent another she didn't even know was right there(cloud #god i could talk about her and how she has suffered more than jesus for ages (happy easter. lmao) #FF7 Rebirth spoilers #just in case?? for anyone who's only playing the remakes i guess. since this was basically already there the remakes just elaborate on it #i think about 'we found you!' 'i guess you did!' SO OFTEN #these two girls mean the world to me and i will not let you reduce them to love interest rivals #when tifa ran over to aerith's body i think everyone in the world heard my heart shattering into dust #these thoughts are a bit disjointed and don't articulate well what i mean but god. god. i am thinking about her today

[steelycunt]

I’m not saying that a lot of Regulus fans are only interested in him because they picture him as a Timothee Chalamet insert and wouldn’t give half a fuck about the character if that fancast didn’t exist but… oh wait that is what I’m saying.

yeah i mean. i definitely think there's something in that lol honestly. as ive said before i never really got the interest in regulus i just couldnt care less about the guy he genuinely has zero canon character but. simultaneously i can see how the little that we do know about him makes him an interesting character and i can see why people enjoy the idea of him as a blank slate that you can superimpose nearly any traits you want on to--treating regulus as essentially an oc gives you lots of room for creation. its for these exact reasons that he is of no interest to me personally, and i really don't like the common conceptualisation of him that has emerged from popular headcanon consensus (especially when it involves stripping his character of all agency and half the things that could arguably make him compelling in order to gloss over the fact that he was a death eater) but thats a matter of opinion i suppose. thats a me problem. its just not my cup of tea.

the timothee chalamet thing irritates me for the same reason the ridiculous instagram model/influencer/celebrity fancasts for most characters irritate me, because one of the ONLY things we know about regulus is that he is 'less handsome than sirius'. like ok why not work with that. especially with a character like him where there is virtually nothing to work with. like please explain to me why you refuse to accept that im genuinely curious. why is that the aspect of his character you are so firmly refuting lol.

all in all, if the character is only likeable or interesting or a convincing love interest if you have to pretend they were actually super conventionally attractive, maybe they're just not that likeable or interesting or well-suited to the character you're trying to pair them off with. its a personal thing again i am just not interested in reading/writing about a cast of characters who are all meticulously tailored to conform to beauty standards i do not respect. the minute u try to convince me all your characters are super hot n yassified it all feels less real to me sorry i care less about them. im bored of hot characters i think all fictional characters should be made to look like normal everyday people and i think everyone should be less afraid of so-called ugliness i triple dog dare u

#the 'you' here is just a general vague you btw it is not directed towards any one person and obviously not you anon we're in agreement #and reading it back i fear i may come off a little more aggressive than i intended so psa this is all my opinion like. do what you want #i am not the final word on this issue or any other. i am just a guy no 1 is obligated to listen to me if they dont want to. except about r #anyway remember talking to liv about the whole regulus thing and how. the personality that has been invented for him just seems like #people were bored of r/s they wanted something like r/s but new so they superimposed remus' personality onto him and then added a #few bits of sirius. and this is all me ranting about my opinion mindlessly now but i think #its reflected in those stupid terrible incorrect quote joke posts and how you see one of them where its remus and sirius and then see the #exact same post remade except remus has been changed to regulus and sirius has been changed to james. like yeah because regulus #is just a carbon copy of remus except if he was goth lol. we've done this one before its the same thing #and absolutely regulus can be done well and absolutely i am not a definitive judge of what is 'doing regulus well' just as no one else is #but i think if u want to do regulus well u have to make him less likeable. like he cant be ur soft loveable fav. girl he was a death eater #same as i think the whole barty / evan / regulus / pandora gang is just people refurbing the marauders. same thing different colour #anyway. i feel about regulus the same way i feel about dorcas or mary or marlene. they are not really characters #they dont have any definitive canon traits and i am not really interested in creating ocs. but other people might love that idea! #which is fine! #whew. love it when i get asks about things im scared to talk about of my own accord like i cant get in trouble if you guys asked me first x #anon #telegram #the brothers black #also girls he is a product of generation after generation of inbreeding. the black family should look like the windsors sirius was an #outlier. #oh also sorry i thought i was done but i want to clarify that i am no way saying you cannot be interested in morally grey characters or #find them compelling. instead what i am trying to say is that pretending a morally grey character actually isnt morally grey #in order to justify the fact that you are interested/fond of/compelled by them is boring and a disservice to your fav. hope that makes sens #within what we do know about regulus there are things that make him GOOD but not really anything that makes him likeable. and so much #of popular headcanon seems to be bestowing a ton of likeable traits upon him in order to redeem him despite there being no canon basis 4 it #like. we know regulus was a death eater 'it wasnt his decision he was forced into it!' we know regulus was less handsome than sirius 'no he #wasnt he was also super hot!' do you see what you're doing. you're losing me.

[devitalise]

Your taste in tv is so good! What are some all time favourites you'd recommend?

genuinely truly love and adore asks like this thank you anon let's get into it. disclaimer: not everything i like is Good it's about emotional impact, the feelings i've associated with it etc etc

orphan black - tatiana maslany is a generational talent. this is my favourite show. i always come back to it because its funny its dramatic its about family, its about the depths of women and their love for each other nature vs nuture whatever just phenomenal

bojack horseman - diane nguyen is me i'm her. i don't know how but this show was able to put all the feelings you've ever had about yourself into words that left me really raw and seen. so many impactful episodes. my personal favs are the view from halfway down and season 5 episode 2 when diane goes to vietnam. i feel like you either watch bojack or you get bojack

90210 - i rewatch this show like every 18 months. there are aspects of the show i don't like but everytime i rewatch it, especially as i'm getting older, there's always something new i notice and resonate with. the last time was when i was firmly pro annie like i get her i love her

midnight mass - this made me cry. it's my fave of the trilogy in comparison to the haunting of hill house or bly manor. if there's one thing mike flanagan is going to do it's deliver a monologue that will shift your worldview. i adored this show. i love the take on vampires, the religious trauma, the dichotomy of being a Good Christian vs being a Good Person. stunning

neo yokio - i almost forgot to include this. this is my favourite show, actually. i love it. i rewatch it every year sometimes twice a year i think its neat :)

i feel like i haven't really gotten the most Expansive list of shows but i spent like 9 years of my life stuck with game of thrones and pretty litle liars -- neither of which i'd actually recommend in good faith.

#imo inquiries #anonymous #there are a lot of shows i like i actually think s1-4 of got are amazing tv and what made me get into the books but nothing after that is #worth your time #same for pll s1-3 which is a very solid well written whodunnit that felt scary and menacing #once marlene thought she could try and outsmart the audience it's just not good anymore #i feel like these shows are me like they tell you a lot about me idk <3 #thank you for the ask anon if you've watched any of them and have thoughts and lmk #bridgerton can't count as my favourite show because i only like the one season so and even then only like 2 hours of it #the 2 hours being every kanthony scene

[ifyoucandaniel]

And if I write a Marlene centric fic that explores her identity and process of discovering how she wants to be perceived and sense of self in an attempt to explore my own sense of identity and sort through my feelings on gender and sexual identity????? What then. What then.

#one day I realized the marauders aren’t real and therefore can be whatever I want them to be and decided Marlene is just me #the day I realized I can project onto any fictional character I want was the day I realized there’s no hope for me #I’m about to project so hard #and when I put her through hell? #what then. #marauders #marlene mckinnon #Marlene loml

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — JAMES POTTER!

pairings ❧ james potter x reader

summary ❧ no one makes james potter feel the way that his girlfriend does and he definitely knows it

warnings ❧ female!reader, cheesy writing, lots of fluff, sunshine!reader, james is whipped for the reader, based on my girl, by the temptations, implications of wolfstar, pda, not proofread

word count ❧ 1.1k

additional notes ❧ my first james fic sort of blew up and i was feeling inspired to write another—thank you for all your support | i also have a longer version for this so let me know if you’re interested ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

You’re James’ sunshine, you’re his bundle of light and happiness on a cloudy day, and you’re all of his favorite things mixed into one beautiful girl. To James, nothing can ever compare to the way you make him feel. Every time you look in his direction with those captivating eyes that always sparkle with love—love that you constantly spread across the school like it’s your only goal in life—to make people feel loved, special, wanted—unlike so many—your contagious smile that makes him feel all giddy and causes his stomach to flutter with excitement.

Everything you do, everything you are, makes James feel like one of those special recipients of all the love you have stored in your overflowing heart. James feels like the luckiest guy in the world to have the privilege of holding you in his arms during the cold winter nights spent in his dormitory, the early spring mornings strolling through the flower meadow the two of you found in the outskirts of Hogwarts, the hot summer days spent in the backyard of the Potter residence, and the cool autumn evenings feeling the cool breeze blowing the fallen leaves past your feet.

Even now, you stroll through the doors to the common room and look so effortlessly breathtaking. The elegance you seem to carry with you to every room you enter makes James’ heart race because you’re his girl and no one else can take you away from him.

Yours and James’ friends always know when you’ve entered a room, not just because your presence is enough alone, but because James always seems to have an absolutely stunned expression dancing across his face, almost as if his heart has stopped beating—this time it leads the group to tease the love sick boy.

“What’s got you all smiles, Prongs?” Sirius asks curiously and with a teasing smile he playfully nudges his best friend’s shoulder, earning no reaction from James—who seems to be mesmerized, by your presence, “Is it that girl of yours, again?”

“Is that even a question?” Lily scoffs lightly and with a dramatic roll of her eyes she gazes past the small crowd of people also entering the common room in an attempt to spot your radiant figure, “Of course it’s (Y/n).”

“Let’s ask the lover boy,” Marlene suggests with a sly grin and points the book she's currently reading towards James, before calling over to him teasingly while tilting her head to one side, “Oh, lover boy?”

“Yeah?” James responds without tearing his gaze away from you and when your eyes finally meet he can’t help but let out a captivated sigh, his eyes screaming his absolute admiration for you.

“See, here she comes now," Lily smirks, gesturing in the direction of you, as you continue to make your way towards the group, who are casually sitting in their respective spots around the room—Lily and Mary are sitting together on the couch closest to the blazing, however warm fire, Remus and Marlene are reading on the couch across from them, Sirius is comfortably situated on the floor between Remus’ legs, and finally James is sprawled out on a lounge chair angled directly towards his lovely girlfriend—you. 

“Good morning, everyone.” You greet your friends with a loving smile, plop yourself down on James’ lap, and finally turn your long-craved attention toward your favorite boy, “Hey, Jamie.” You add sweetly and swiftly lean over to plant your soft, addicting lips upon his flushed cheek.

“Good morning, love.” James replies, adjusting his hands on your hips in order to pull your back flush against his chest—something you shamelessly lean into. As James wraps one of his arms around your waist and nervously fidgets with the hem of your shirt, you wrap your own arms around his shoulders, place your hands at the nape of his neck, and begin to twirl the ends of his curls (that need a trim, you notice) around your fingers—something you know he’s obsessed with.

You then glance around the room at your friends as they engage in each of their preferred activities on this peaceful and quiet evening. Your face transforms into a content smile, reminiscing on what your life might be like when you and your friends all leave Hogwarts. A day where all of your friends come over to the Potter resistance—you and James’ house, and spend the day around the fire, warm cups of tea within reach, silent communication being shared between you and James before the two of you sneak away and up the perfect wooden stairs to your bedroom, where laughter and secrets are shared under the sheets.

“Prongsy here hasn’t stopped smiling since you walked through that door.” Sirius smiles causally, leaning further back against Remus’ legs as the sandy-brown-haired boy nervously shifts in his chair and swiftly runs the hand that isn’t holding his book through his hair. Sirius’ comment is directed towards you, and you finally snap back into reality when you notice that knowing smirk plastered across Sirius’ face.

James lets out a dramatic groan while throwing his head back against the chair that the two of you continue to sit in. Your boyfriend’s reaction to Sirius’ constant teasing causes a quiet giggle to fall from your lips. The sound of your contagious laugh makes James’ stomach swoon with love and his face visibly lights up after lifting his head back up off of the chair. James can’t help but stare at you even when you’re sitting right in his arms. You look so sweet, radiating with love and warmth. At this moment, James can only imagine what those lips of yours might taste like. And that’s when he kisses you.

James can’t control himself and for valid reasons. You taste just the same as you always do—like honey, sweet as can be. It would be impossible for the bees not to be jealous of him. James could never get tired of kissing your lips and he’s not ashamed of it. If he’s going to spend the rest of his life with you then he’s always going to express his everlasting amount of love and affection for you.

The kiss catches you off guard, not expecting such passion and aggression in front of your friends, but you instinctively kiss James back. Your hands tangle through James’ hair while his grip on your hips and the waist tighten ever-so-slightly. This earns him a surprised squeak from you, and causes a boyish grin to form on James’ face as he kisses you.

“Get a room!” Sirius shouts jokingly from his spot on the floor which causes you and James to pull away with love sick grins consuming your expressions.

“You’re my girl.” James whispers into your ear and affectionately bumps his nose into the apple of your cheek, tickling your sensitive skin. A soft giggle bubbles into the air when James begins to pepper kisses all over your face.

“And I’ll always be your girl.”

masterlist . my taglist

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

#my works ೀ⋆｡💌 #masterlist #james potter imagines #james x reader #marauders james potter #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james fleamont potter #james fleamont potter x reader #james potter #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter blurb #marauders fandom #marauders fluff #marauders era #marauders #marauders fanfiction

[gutsby]

Abstaining Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.

Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.

Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’

Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)

October 26, 2024

Dear Joel,

Roses are red,

We’re a couple of sluts,

Abstinence camp is awful,

I miss you rearranging my guts.

You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.

“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”

You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.

Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.

It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.

What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.

Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.

He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.

That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.

Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.

Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:

Dear Tommy,

Fuck you, you fucking fuck.

Sincerely,

Joel

You grinned again just thinking about it.

If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.

For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?

Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.

The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.

You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.

Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:

“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”

The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.

Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.

Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.

“On your feet, skank.”

You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.

Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.

“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.

“How kind.”

“Yeah? Certain death?”

“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.

Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.

“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.

“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”

“Oh?”

Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.

“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.

Stupidly.

“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”

That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.

“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.

“Not my brother,” you hissed.

“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.

“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”

Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.

“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.

“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.

“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.

Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.

Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.

“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”

You had to stifle a laugh.

“I am not.”

“Then explain, Cersei!”

Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.

“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.

“Uh-huh.”

“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”

“Dangerous combo.”

“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”

“Right.”

“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”

Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:

“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”

“Oh shit.”

“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”

“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”

“As you should.”

“—hold that breath in right there—”

“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”

This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.

“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.

“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”

You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.

“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”

Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:

“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”

You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,

“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”

You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,

“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”

You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.

Then you felt hands.

Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.

You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.

“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.

Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?

About damn time.

Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.

“Fucker,” you hissed.

Fucker said nothing.

Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.

“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”

You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.

“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”

A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.

“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.

Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.

“Pack your shit.”

Dude.

You spun on your heels.

“DUDE!”

Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.

It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.

“Sweetheart—”

He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.

The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?

You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.

His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.

“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”

You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.

“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”

Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.

“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”

He was seriously trying to break you out?

You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.

“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.

What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.

Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.

“Joel?” You raised a brow.

“Mm?”

The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.

His gaze was alarmingly sedate.

“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”

“Just a quickie, Miller—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”

The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.

Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.

It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.

“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”

Shit.

Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.

“Joel—”

“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”

Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.

But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.

“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.

“Joel, I just—”

“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”

The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.

“It was a joke.”

No time to mince words now.

“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.

He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.

“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No.”

For the first time, you saw Joel��s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.

Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.

“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”

When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”

With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.

“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”

You needed time to think.

“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.

But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.

“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”

His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.

Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?

You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.

“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”

You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.

“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.

“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.

You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.

At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.

His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.

Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.

“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.

This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.

Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.

But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.

You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.

You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.

Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.

Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.

Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”

Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.

The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.

It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.

Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.

Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.

Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.

“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.

You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.

Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.

“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.

Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.

Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.

“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”

When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.

“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”

Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.

“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.

But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.

You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.

“Another,” you pleaded.

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.

Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.

“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.

His expression was hard.

“Fuck my hand,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.

Fuck my hand.

Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.

“Like that,” he murmured.

All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.

It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.

“Need more,” you keened.

“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.

“Yeah.”

A beat, then:

“Tough shit.”

But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.

“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.

“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.

Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”

That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.

And pleasure.

The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.

Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.

“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.

Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,

“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”

Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.

Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.

He nodded again.

Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.

After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.

“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.

“Too much?” he returned.

You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.

“Too soon?” he tried again.

“I—”

“Too fast?”

“N—”

“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.

There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.

You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.

“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.

“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”

Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.

“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.

Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.

“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”

Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.

“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.

“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.

When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.

“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.

Joel watched you with careful eyes.

“Yeah? And Tess?”

“Joel—”

“Or Tommy.”

“I don’t—”

“Everyone else?”

Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.

Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.

In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?

You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.

Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.

“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.

“But you did,” you panted.

Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.

Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.

He was a lot like you in that way.

You kept kissing him anyway.

The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.

All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.

“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.

You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.

In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.

“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.

“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”

Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’

You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.

Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.

Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.

“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”

Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’

Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.

He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.

Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.

“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

His face softened.

“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”

He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.

“Say that you’re mine.”

No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.

Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?

The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.

The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.

It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.

Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.

His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.

He kissed your hairline and hummed.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”

His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.

“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.

He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,

“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”

“But—”

“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”

His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.

“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.

You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.

“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.

You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.

Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.

Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:

“Joel!”

“That’s right.”

Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.

“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.

You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’

Oh.

Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.

Your legs were wet.

The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.

You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.

You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.

Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?

“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.

You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.

In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.

Where was that wetness coming from?

You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—

“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.

Your first instinct was to make a face.

That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?

“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.

Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.

“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”

Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.

Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.

Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.

“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”

You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.

And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.

Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.

“‘M’sorry,” he said.

Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,

“You did great.”

He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“So good.”

When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.

“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”

“What?”

Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.

“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”

At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.

He didn’t.

The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.

“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”

You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.

“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”

Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.

“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”

Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.

Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.

You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.

But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.

“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.

“No!”

“I’m not—”

“He’s from the other camp.”

“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”

You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.

“I’m—we’re—” he started.

“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”

She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.

But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.

Then laugh.

Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.

Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.

“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.

Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.

“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:

“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”

Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.

And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.

“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”

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