#small and clearly gay? CHECK

[kedreeva]

When I was a kid, maybe 14 or so (which is, you know, 20+ years ago), I belonged to a Yahoo! mailing list for an anime called Gundam Wing. It was mostly populated by other teens, of varying ages, as it was started by a teen and her friends. Eventually it migrated, when Yahoo! groups started as forums, and even branched off into non-GW related stuff in a second forum.

One of the things I remember the most clearly is the oldest person in the group. Her name was Steelsong. She was a 40-something Dom with a sub whose name we knew even though we knew nothing else. She ran her own fanfic archive because the web was still handmade HTML and navigated in webrings and I’m pretty sure Google didn’t exist or was only barely, barely launched and not well known. She was kind and patient and we loved her. She treated everyone on the group with the respect given any adult, even though most of the rest of the world was still treating us like we were children. Not teenagers even, but children. She never once condescended to any of us, never made our youth a barrier to her respect, never treated us like we were incapable of being full people or like we were less than her because we were young.

I remember that she hosted our fanfiction, as absolutely terrible as it was (and I still have some of it, I am WELL aware of how cringingly terrible it is, just absolute nonsense garbage), right there alongside of other fic that was soul-achingly beautiful. Not a separate section for her friends or for kids, just right there like we were good enough to feature alongside other authors. I never once received crit from her that I didn’t ask for, only support. Only love. I am still writing today partly because Steel was so kind about our fic, fanfic and original.

I remember that when I started doing clay sculpture, she commissioned a tiny pair of dragons from me, to support me doing artwork. She sent a check my mom cashed for me, and my mom helped me mail it when it was finished. It broke in transit, and Steel assured me that she mended it and that it was still beautiful. It was a small gold dragon curled up with a small silver dragon.

I remember that her patience knew no bounds. I remember that she was there for us, regardless of reason. When we wanted to know silly things like what to do with a single AA battery, she answered. When we had serious questions about sex, she answered.  When we had questions about writing, she taught us. When one of our group members, a young gay teen in Australia, ended up in the hospital and then stopped making posts, and we all knew what had happened, she let us talk to her about it because we couldn’t go to our own parents, even though we had just lost a friend.

She was not a replacement to my parents, but she was an extra parent, in some ways. A friend, certainly, but someone that had been through more life than we had and was willing to pass on knowledge if we asked for it. Someone older that we trusted with things that were too uncomfortable to go to our parents or teachers or whatever about, because we already knew she wasn’t going to judge us or something, and that we would get an honest answer.

I don’t know why I’m remembering this so hard tonight, and I’m not sure if there’s a point to sharing this, except that I know she’s gone now. She was ill the last time we spoke, and her site went down a long time ago, and I miss her. She was a huge influence on my life, then and now. She was hope, for me, that life as an adult didn’t have to be boring, it wouldn’t have to mean giving up the things I loved and Becoming Only Responsible With No Fun. Her presence meant I had hope I could still write and play with friends even when I wasn’t ‘a kid’ anymore. And she’s gone, and I miss her, and I wanted to share her from the perspective of youth, and the perspective over twenty years later has provided me.

And I think of her, when people go off about older folks being in fandom with younger folks. I’m an older folks now, or at least middle aged folks because there are certainly folks older than me still, but I wasn’t always. I’ve been here since i was a younger folks, and I know how much Steel’s presence and support meant to me, how much she helped not just me but everyone on that group. And I think of the people saying older folks don’t belong in fandom, and that they shouldn’t interact with younger folks at all, and I just think... I can’t agree. I needed that kind of solid presence in my life back then and even at the age I am now, I need the folks older than me to stay. I want them here.

So I guess, like, if you’re here and you’re 40 or 50 or 60 or 70 or 80 or whatever, I want you here in fandom with me, still. Your presence here is a comfort. It is hope. It is a reminder that life will continue to be fun, even as I get older, myself. And if you’re younger and you have this sort of elder in your groups, I hope that they are like Steel. I hope they are kind and patient and supportive, and that knowing them gives you hope for your own future. I hope in twenty years you look back and remember them fondly.

#steelsong #personal #stories about ked's life #dash stretcher #fandom #god she would have loved ao3 so much #i wish i could tell her about the good things that have become

[hellavile]

━━ 𝑘𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 .ᐟ satoru + getou.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 2.9k. fem chubby reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, black coded, threesome but getou’s our boyfie so boyfriend’s best friend trope!, anal + vaginal penetration, oral [ f ], handjob, a few lil gay moments teehee, getou is kinda insecure, satoru takes most of the lead, spitting, choking, check ins, impact play, praising, condom use, cockwarming, creampie, potential polyamory?, minors aren’t welcomed!

━━━ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱ ; dedicated to my bestie bc she harassed me about a getou + gojo fic since i never continued impure :/ <3 @thecoochiefairy

their postures are statue-like once you step foot out of the bathroom, both men eyeing you from head to toe, getou instantly standing to his feet with clammy hands he rested on his hips. satoru remained seated, legs spread as he groaned and pulled at his soft snow hair. they were lost for words. while they were busy finding a bar to grab a drink at the mall, you wandered off in search of a lingerie set, finding a simple pearl white babydoll, sheer mesh bodice, an open flyaway back, and matching panty set. it made you feel pretty, so you wore it for them.

their silence made your heart race nervously, playing with the fabric as your eyes flicker between the two faces, waiting for a response.

"you like it?" your voice is quiet as a mouse.

"i love it," they say in unison. getou blinks, forgetting he was here, honestly.

"you're fuckin' gorgeous, baby," satoru finally stands, being the first one to walk towards you, cupping the side of your face in his palm. you grow hot immediately. "stunning."

even though you've never had the slightest sexual encounter with satoru, the way he had your mind running wild with imagination was near insanity. of course, it was wrong to think of another man while clearly in a committed relationship. but, it was impossible when he was always around you. making jokes here and there about clearly wanting to fuck you. the infatuation was clear as day. you hated your attraction to him. that's why you had to do this, why you wanted it. both of them at once. your feelings were mutual towards them equally, and the sexual tension would never ease unless this happened. plus, it was your birthday. and as your gift, you asked getou for this one thing. your puppy dog eyes making him unable to object.

"give me your hands," you hold out both of yours, getou swallowing and coming forward to gently clasp your small hand, satoru doing the same before you smile and turn, the men stumbling behind you with their eyes on your ass, guiding them towards the bedroom.

a rush of confidence sparks through you now. you've been wanting this for so long, so it's only right that you show them. closing the door behind them, they stare ahead, looking down to see your fingers delicately skid across their abdomens, lifting their shirts and moaning at the abs on both of their bodies. they were toned, buff in the arms but nothing steroid-like. deeply cut v-lines and slim waists. you nearly drool from the feel, desperate to clutch their waists as they fucked you hard without a care.

"baby," it's clear you're referring to getou by the purr in your voice, tits pressed firmly against his side as he looks down at you with a clench of his jaw.

"mhm?" is how he responds, trying his best to remain complacent.

"take control," you bat your lashes. "it's your pussy before his."

getou groans, satoru's grin is sadistic, finding himself clasping your wrist, taking your attention from your boyfriend and burning his eyes in your own, tugging you near him. he caresses your face admirably, humming.

"aren't you obedient," satoru's palm slaps against the side of your cheek as he chuckles, and to getou's point of view, it's absurdly violent. you've never felt this spark before, the action making your heart thump with excitement. the look on your boyfriend's face was pure anger, that deadpanned expression only meaning that he was ready to snap. satoru tries to do it again, but is stopped as soon as getou catches his wrist forcefully.

"are you asking to die?" getou seethes, satoru only raising a brow, no remorse.

"you're really blind, huh?" satoru laughs, side-eyeing you. "she likes it. don't tell me your sex life is that dull."

getou inhales, releasing his wrist once you touch the side of his face reassuringly, smiling hazily. "i like it, it's okay."

he's stuck. not sure how to respond nor react. there's so much more he has to know about you. teach himself about. even though it's only been four months into your relationship, he feels like a stranger, uneducated about your sexual desires. now he's concerned if he pleasures you enough or not. maybe this was a lesson. maybe he should let satoru do most of the work and observe while still being present. watch your reactions to things he says or does that rile you up. there was nothing wrong with being taught.

"tell me what you want," getou clenches his jaw, grabbing the back of your head and tugging softly. getou was extremely soft and caring during sex, and although you were fond of it, sometimes you wanted him to be the opposite. "i'll give you anything. just say it."

warmth fills your chest, so entranced by his sweetness. your eyes lock with satoru's, "wanna ride his face."

satoru tongues his inner cheek, looking you up and down once more. " 'course you do."

getou has his eyes on you the entire time, those big eyes of yours wide with anticipation. "can i?”

"don't ask me with that innocent tone. you're anything but," getou grunts, taking you back by his side possessively. "come sit on me."

you follow like a lost puppy, getou taking his seat on the middle of the bed, one leg propped up as you crawl on your hands and knees to him, your face in his hands he caressed gently with his thumbs, kissing you and admiring you a while longer. satoru stands behind you, tilting his head to the side to capture a picture of the cute set on your body, his hands on your ass he brings back to rub the outline of his jean-clad cock against, groaning.

"fuck, you're really soft," his hand gropes your ass hard and it makes you whine, getou watching as you bite your lip and brush back against satoru who's dry humping you through the mesh thong you wore. "my dick is so fuckin' hard right now."

you swear your clits pulsating like a goddamn vibrator, moaning into getou's mouth after he kisses you, his eyes dark and pointed viciously in satoru's way, shoving his tongue in your mouth, barely paying you attention. he's watching satoru, making sure he takes care of you, doesn't hurt you. because if he did, he'd have to hurt him. satoru chuckles from the quiet obvious threat, molding your flesh in his rough palms. you're arching your back like a cat, panting in your boyfriend's mouth who's aware of your body sensitivity. the smallest touches leaving you feral. a cool breeze of air hits your soaked core as satoru pulls your panties to your knees, raising them so they're off fully, needing access to every region.

"fuck, that's a nice ass pussy," satoru grins, knitting his dark brows together, crystal blue eyes darting between getou and your weeping cunt. you yelp when two of his fingers brush over your clit, sliding it up to your core he taps a few times and hums. then he's bringing his fingers to his nose, liking the smell before he's sucking them off. "damn, this really all yours?"

getou rolls his eyes after satoru whistles, not waiting for him to say anything, which he doesn't, blocking him out anyways. it's all about you. he wants you and he's gonna stay focused on that. he's lowering to his knees on the ground, positioning your thighs so they're spread wider, barely preparing you before he's literally kissing at your cunt with tongue, like full on making out with it. you shudder instantly, mouth dropping and gripping at getou's thigh as satoru grunts and slurps up your juices, thrusting those same fingers into you. your eyes widen partially when his tongue trails up to your puckering hole, spitting, then kissing it up, bobbing his head up and down the entirety of you.

"ooo, my god. . ." you gasp, grinding back against his face, blindly tugging at the waistband of getou's jeans, getou studying you as your face turns in ecstasy, fumbling with your hands as you pull out his cock, whimpering as you spit into your small hand before wrapping it around to pump. getou clenches his jaw, placing his hand over yours to stoke it together, his bubblegum lips pouty as he kisses you hard, swallowing your moans.

"like fuckin' candy," satoru kisses your clit hard, lips wet before he's sucking on it hard, tongue moving everywhere, skidding over your thighs as he laps you up with a deep ‘fuck’, jaw moving side to side and his hand spanking your ass slow like he's drunk, the impact hard. it's a pattern, his spews of fuck become monotonous the more he eats at it.

fuck. spank, then moved his mouth. fuck. spank, then applies more pressure with his tongue. fuck. spanks you ten times harder, then growls. it was driving you mad, unable to stop shifting your ass.

"he's not gonna stop until you cum," getou says, now holding your throat in his hand, your face contorted as you whine.

"not once," satoru counters, getou looking over your shoulder with a brow raised, eyes trailing back to yours without disagreement.

"more than once."

"m'almost there," you cry, his mouth all too good, never reaching an orgasm this quickly.

"are you?" getou hums tauntingly, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. you nod, your breath hitching as he bites your lower lip and sucks, blood rushing. you jerk your hand faster, keeping it on the tip like he liked, getou folding easily, hips twitching.

"gonna give it to me?" satoru asks, never ceasing his assault, in love with the way your knees buckle.

"nnn, yea," you chew on your lips, already fucked out. not prepared for what they had in store for you next.

"yeah?" satoru mocks your tone, stuffing his fingers into you and moving to your desired pace. your vision goes static like an old television when you cum, falling forward to rest your cheek on your boyfriend's chest, both the men half stripping throughout your fixation. getou stops you from pulling at his dick, afraid he'll cum too quick. you have that affect on him.

satoru doesn't stop when you cum, he keeps going, more than once, he said. and he meant it. it's worse when getou pulls you up to suck on your neck, tugging at the hardened buds of your nipples , both men touching you at once was filthy, your head buzzing and your mouth nonstop with pornographic sonances. satoru takes his breath when he stands, licking you off his lips as if you were the best fucking dessert he's ever had. while you're left breathless, getou and satoru are pulling off the rest of their clothing, achingly hard they couldn't stand it any longer. you could read them well, especially getou, knowing when he's near done.

getou lays on his back and he pulls you on top of him, your messy face still so adorable. satoru grabs the bottle of lube and two condoms stashed in his drawer before coming back to the bed, brushing the white hair from his face and staring down at you as you turn to look behind yourself, teasing him by grinding your hips midair. satoru snickers, climbing on the bed and resting on his knees. he looks at getou.

"you go first."

your smile is lazy, hugging your man by his neck and cradling your face between it. getou holds out his hand, satoru passing him a condom, the gold packaging being torn with his teeth before he's tossing it aside and sliding it down his cock resting on his stomach.

"lift your hips," getou rasps, hands calloused on either side of your thighs, helping you up till he's sinking you down on it, stretching you good like he always does. you whimper by his ear, clenching your cunt around him once he's fully inside, swaying your ass, belly to belly as you grind and say his favorite word he liked to hear most of all from you; his name.

after satoru's secure, he spreads the lubricant over himself and then some on his fingers he uses to prep you. your cute little hole tensing when the heat from them grazes you, satoru telling you to take a deep breath and relax yourself before he's pressing against the unused entrance. you gasp when he managed to get them in, carefully thrusting past his knuckles. his fingers were as long as getou's. getou tries not to lose it, your pussy warming his cock with little to no movement. satoru continues to prep you for two more minutes, wanting to make sure he eases the discomfort just a bit.

"satoru," you whimper his name, giving him permission to take his turn.

it's a clear signal, and he doesn't waste time, towering over you and pinning down your lower back to arch you a little more. getou soothes you by caressing the sides of your legs, as well as smoothing them over your back. satoru aligns his reddened cockhead to your hole, kissing up your back as he gently pushes into you, inch by inch. the unknown stretch burns, getou turning his head to whisper comforting words to keep your mind off the pain, lifting his hips to fuck into you. the mixture of pain and pleasure has you clawing at his shoulders.

halfway in, satoru decides to bring you up, clutching your chin and getting his turn to taste your lips, sliding, slowly, deeper inside the longer his mouth moved with yours, getou observing you both.

"it's good? you're good?" satoru says in between breaths, hips so close to touching your ass.

"m'good. move, please."

it's enough to make both men move in sync, satoru biting at your neck with his face scrunched up, eyeing getou beneath you. the pain subsides, and all you feel are the tingles in the pit of your stomach, dragging out your moans as they both pounded into you, satoru finally getting deep like he wanted since you relaxed more.

"jesus, fuck . . . mmm," for some reason, the erotic expression on satoru's face makes getou blush, biting his lip as he watches the two of you lose yourselves. how you scratch at his shoulder and the elicit eye roll satoru does. getou never thought he'd feel like this, or like seeing you fuck another man so much.

"you look pretty as fuck taking both of us," getou grunts, smacking at your tits and you keen in shock. satoru must be getting to him now. you scream as the two men fuck you like they'd lost their sanity, gushing around getou's cock while satoru aggressively knocks his dick into you, both following each other's rhythms for you. your skin clashing, pouncing back on them.

"shit," getou whimpers, hips stuttering as he cums inside his condom, chest heaving erratically. you rush your hand over his hair, tugging and riding them still. satoru has his arm around your neck now, slamming his hips against your ass which makes you let go of getou, holding onto his forearm as your tongue lolls out and satoru switches positions.

you're lifted off getou, satoru tossing his condom off to slide into your sluice cunt, groaning and closing his eyes from the new feeling.

"cum inside me," it has getou stunned since you've never said that once, deathly afraid of the idea of pregnancy. maybe you gained a breeding kink overnight. he wonders what videos you researched prior to this that sparked this sudden fantasy to be dominated by two men, two roommates, two new best friends.

"was doing that anyways," he licks the shell of your ear with a malicious cackle. "bet you'd let me fuck you raw every day if it meant I'd get to fill you up."

"yess, baby," you weep, out of your mind entirely.

"baby?" satoru whistles, glaring at getou who only blinked. what's up with you? were you under his spell or something? "i like that. you tryna' make one with me?"

"get smacked," getou threatens.

satoru only grins, grabbing your chin and pressing his nose to your cheek, keeping his eyes on getou. "don't wanna be a daddy with me? it'd be fun. I'll push the stroller and you hold her hand so she doesn't trip with the other kid in her belly."

"cut it," getou seethes.

"you're no fun," satoru pouts, still fucking you back on his dick like it's nothing, your head spinning. his attentions back on you. "say it one more time for me."

"baby," you slur, swallowing the extra saliva built up in your mouth from drooling, giggling when he groans in approval.

"good fuckin' girl," satoru hisses, yanking you back hard, like some rag doll, your screams softening the longer he prolonged, balls slapping against your sticky clit and your tits bouncing so cutely in your babydoll set.

you slap your hands on getou's torso once you cum for your third time, tone drowning out by satoru's who growls and paints your tight walls white, your legs frantically twitching as you fall forward, getou swallowing, endlessly fascinated by you as he rubs you to cool you down.

"wanna watch it drip," satoru keens, raising your ass and holding the dip of your spine down, licking his lips as he watches the way his cum glides from you. "damn, i think it's my birthday, honestly."

you're spent, still shaky and barely having air left in your lungs. satoru leans over you, kisses your cheek with a loud 'muah!' before doing the same to getou, only he kisses him on the lips.

"don't kiss me, asshole!" getou splutters, palm over satoru's face as he shoved him away. you giggle weakly into your boyfriend's chest, reaching behind yourself to keep satoru pressed to your back for warmth, the three of you snuggled up comfortably.

“thank you babe,” you smile, elated.

“you’re welcome, baby,” they say in unison.

getou rolls his eyes, a petty grunt released. “she’s not talking to you.”

“s’okay, her pussy did,” satoru cackles, kissing your cheek with tongue to piss the black-haired man off even further. he remains silent. this time.

© 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖊. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

#𑄽𑄺 ━━ ꒰ 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎'𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑦 .ᐟ ꒱ #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #getou smut #satoru smut #gojo satoru #satoru x suguru #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #getou x reader #getou x you #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #getou x gojo x you #black reader #getou x black reader #satoru x black reader #satosugu

[youcancallmeelle]

She’s got a boyfriend anyway…

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Word count: 7K

Warnings: Semi public sex, Missionary, Cowgirl, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Sneaking around, Secret relationship, Brief David mention, Ellie being a menance, Tommy trying to play matchmaker.

Summary: Tommy has been trying to set Joel up for AGES, he’s got other interests.

Or

You and Joel have secretly been seeing each other.

A03

Read below…

Life in Jackson is promising, nearly a year and half here and Joel feels comfortable, no longer itching for a way out of civilisation because he’s just not used to that no more. Ellie is settled too - finally. She’s attending school three days a week, enjoying the new responsibilities that come with being sixteen and the tad bit of freedom it brings. She helps out at the stables, in the kitchen too but she’s not a fan. She likes being in the library most, checking in and out books, tidying shelves, using her art to create eye catching displays aimed at the younger generation of Jackson.

Joel is proud, his heart feels like it could burst out of his chest all the time. Ellie is still full of wit and charisma that comes out in curses and daft puns that make Joel roll his eyes and get her in a headlock until she’s laughing so hard she’s pink in the face.

There’s times when she skips school completely if a male teacher has subbed in, she flinches away if someone comes too close and sometimes if it’s stew night at dinner, she’ll stare blankly into her bowl at the chunks of meat and see a severed ear, she’ll try to swallow but gag instead. These are nights Joel gives her his bread and Tommy will too, then he’ll make her a fruit salad when they get home with a little double cream poured over it.

The nightmares are persistent on these bad days where triggers occur, he finds Ellie in bed screaming and thrashing multiple times a week. She’ll sob and cry hoarsely as he holds her, hushing her gently and resting his cheek on her head. Most of the time she’ll fall back asleep with him beside her, curled into him like she did back at Silver Lake when death was close.

But mostly, everything’s okay.

Joel had been with Tommy every single day this week so far and it was Thursday evening, they’d been focusing on fixing up the bathroom in a house way further down from his, they were getting it ready for a family that had expanded to move in. The floor was rotten and the pipes wrecked, neither of them were particularly fond of plumbing but they sorted it between them. There was still the kitchen to do but that was a job for tomorrow and probably Saturday too but not Sunday, that was his day with Ellie.

Sunday’s were for late breakfasts of bacon and pancakes - before and after the world ended. The only thing that changed was the kid for Joel, he used to serve Sarah indulgent breakfasts on a Sunday and they’d do something together and the tradition was carried on with Ellie and Sarah remained tucked in his heart.

Tired and stiff from working hunched over all day, Joel was enjoying a quiet drink with Tommy. They were tucked away on a small table with two stools, Joel would have preferred something with a back but beggars can’t be choosers; he was grateful for the cold glass of bourbon nearly empty in front of him and the sound of Dire Straits playing over the old speakers.

As always, Tommy is picking and prying into his lack of a love life. Since he’s noticed his older brother being more settled within the community, he’d been trying his hardest to set him up with various women and Tommy Miller was nothing if not persistent.

At this point in the day, Tommy’s voice is almost just white noise.

“Cath is nice.” Tommy pointed out, Joel snorts.

“She’s also gay, Tommy.”

“Oh shit, really? I didn’t know.”

“Clearly. Can we please stop talking about this? It’s the same thing every fuckin’ time I come drinking with you.” Joel begs, Tommy sighs heavily but drops it for now.

Joel takes in the scenery as he sits there, grateful for the moments silence from Tommy. His eyes stray to the left of the table and he listens as you speak to Denton, an older gentleman in his late sixties with a love of horses. He’s quizzing you about the new mare in the stables, he hears you mention checking on her again after your shift because she’s been particularly temperamental since she was brought in from outside but you’ve developed a nice bond with her, she’s slowly becoming more trusting.

It occurs to Joel that everyone likes you - literally everyone, even Ellie and she was a tough nut to crack. You’re sweet, soft spoken yet confident. You’re always helping out where you can; on patrols, stable duty, in the communal garden, sometimes at the school and also here at the bar when Darius needs his shift covered.

You find good things on patrol and give them to Joel or Ellie before taking the rest for the community, so they get first pick of everything.

You’re just the sweetest thing.

Tommy sees you and beckons you with a friendly wave, you mutter a goodbye to Denton and pat his hand.

“Hey.” You hear your name called over the music and you turn as Tommy Miller grabs your attention as you scoop up two glasses and an empty bowl that once held nuts and dried berries from the table two away from his and Joel’s.

“Yes, Miller?” You patter over with your hands occupied, you sneak a look at his older sibling, sparing him a wink as a greeting, he smirks softly back.

“Has Darius got an other fuckin’ music or are we strictly limited to the sounds of 1985 tonight?” He questions and you laugh, shaking your head.

“You don’t like Dire Straits?”

“He doesn’t appreciate good music.” Joel interjects, shaking his head at Tommy.

“I do - but other music. Eminem or even fuckin’ Britney! Anything but this shit.” Tommy groans, tossing his head back.

“Keep talking smack about Dire Straits, Miller - and I’ll snitch to your wife about the fact you’ve switched patrols with Mark twice this week because you were too hungover to go.” You smile sweetly at Tommy, tilting your head.

“Snitches get stitches.” Tommy remarks playfully, not an ounce of malice in his dark brown eyes and your eyebrows rise, you beam back.

“That right? Well, troublesome men get barred for life.”

“Oooooh.” Joel chimes in, looking amusedly between you and his younger brother.

“Touché.” Tommy quips, folding his arms.

“Tell you what, next time I’m in, I’ll have a rummage out back and see if I can find you some Britney. Bless you.” You pinch his cheek as you walk past and he swats your hand, rubbing the spot while Joel laughs.

“You’re pushing your luck giving her lip, I’m not sure if you’re aware but this is the only operational bar in Wyoming.”

“Tell me about it.” He grumbles back, Joel shakes his head once more as the door behind Tommy on the back wall opens.

“Joeeeeeel?!” He hears yelled from close by, he looks up and sees Ellie dragging her sneakers across the floor, scouring the bar for him with her honey coloured eyes eagerly. She spots him within seconds, beaming and practically skipping over to him and Tommy in the corner. “There you are, I looked fucking everywhere for you.” She groans dramatically, throwing her head back. “I wanna go out, I’m bored shitless at home. There’s nothing for me to do and yes - I’ve done my school work.” She quickly adds.

“You done those quadratic equation questions we were going over last night?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Yep. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, though I did ask my teacher because I’m pretty sure you were figuring them out wrong. You were, by the way.” Joel puffs indignantly, rolling his eyes. Ellie spins to Tommy, the soles of her shoes squeaking. “Can I try that?” She’s laser focused on the bourbon swimming between globes of ice in Tommy’s glass.

“What have I said the last twenty times you’ve asked, El?” Tommy’s dark brows are high on his forehead, his mouth is twisted with hidden laughter. Ellie rolls her eyes with annoyance, sloping over to Joel now.

“No.” She huffs, swinging her lanky arms around Joel. She hums and rubs her face into his shoulder bone, resting there for a second before her attentions shifts comically fast. There’s a warmth that spreads through Joel every single time she does this, she’s so casual about it and he’s drawn the conclusion that it’s a teenage thing because Sarah was the same. There’s a sadness that blossoms too, a darkness that twists and anchors in his chest as he thinks of her and who she’d be now. He can’t dwell for too long, not now - he did that for too long.

At one dark point in time, human connection was not key to survival, hence why he always kept Tess at arms length and then referred to Ellie as cargo until one snowy day it became apparent she was no longer cargo when she was frenzied and panting in his arms, splattered with the blood of a predator and gasping like she was taking her last breath. The sound haunted him for a long time, all memories of Sarah hitting him like a freight train. He had to protect Ellie, the minute he drew her in - oh baby girl - and held her tightly, wrapped in his coat and clinging to him just as hard.

Ellie’s his kid now. She’s his. He’s hers. They’re a family. Ellie Williams Miller - that’s how she’s known now. It’s scrawled on her school books. The love he feels for this human tornado in sneakers is unmatched, the one thing he’s ever been truly good at has been restored and it’s a role he knows well; being a father.

Sure, this teenager that he’s raising is the furthest from bubblegum pink and Avril Lavigne she could be, she’s particularly jagged around the edges and does have the temperament of an unsocialised cat that will bite if you get too close.

He looks down at her, rubbing into him like she’s trying to get his smell on her because it’s comforting and she feels safe and feels his heart ready to burst.

Of course the sweet moment of affection is shattered when Ellie yawns directly into his fucking ear because why wouldn’t she?

He grunts when she bears most of her weight on his aching shoulders, leaning easily into him and twisting her small fingers into his flannel.

“So? Can I go or not?” She presses.

“Go where?” He prompts, raising his eyebrow.

“Toni’s from school. Her cat had kittens a few weeks ago and they’re starting to play. Five of them, Joel! That’s a lotta kittens!” Ellie enunciates, brown eyes wide and Joel can’t help the smile that graces his otherwise tired face.

“You mean a litter?” He corrects and Ellie pauses, frowning.

“Huh?”

“A bunch of kittens is a litter, Ellie.” He informs her and she somehow manages to frown even more, she makes a noise like she’s computing the new information.

“Yeah, whatever.” She mumbles, Tommy snorts in amusement. “So I can go see them?” She presses, shifting her weight again and Joel groans louder now, unhooking her arms from his shoulders with a quiet ‘don’t do that, baby’ that’s full of affection.

“Yes but you’re back at nine latest, okay? Nine. I’ll be waiting for you, the minute those street lamps turn on, you’re home.” Joel says, Ellie’s mouthing along to his instructions that he’s been laying out since Summer began and the evenings stretched longer. “Be good.” He speaks more softly now and she nods, he presses a kiss to the side of her head, her eyelashes flutter happily as the warmth blossoms in her too with the security that’s Joel Miller.

“Peesh. I’m always good. Bye Tommy!” She says excitedly, fist bumping him when it’s offered.

“See ya, squirt.” Tommy replies but before he’s even voiced his reply, Ellie’s hurrying away and knocking into a patron while waving to you on the way out of the door so hard it slams. Joel sighs, thinking she’s a literal hurricane.

The door hinge has barely stopped shaking before Tommy starts with the suggestions of suitors once more.

“What about Myleene?” Tommy proposes, Joel shakes his head quickly, downing the remainder of his drink.

“Too young.” He replies.

“She’s twenty five.”

“Too young.” He repeats firmer this time.

“Okay, fine. What about Michelle? She’s what forty? I was talking to her in the cobblers the other day, she’s definitely interested - mentioned something about making you a pie?”

“I’m good.” He grumbles looking down into his empty glass but quickly shifting his gaze to the bar, you’re leaning on your elbows, laughing heartily with a patron.

You look beautiful tonight - just like every other night. Your shoulders are sunkissed, your cheeks a little flushed and skin glowing from the summer humidity. He absorbs the way your hair tumbles down your shoulders and the way the thin straps of your tiered sundress slip down occasionally, only to be tugged back into place with dexterous fingers.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Tommy jibes, Joel looks over with a firm scowl.

“What?” He asks, Tommy shakes his head.

“You can dream, brother.” Joel rolls his eyes, trying to act nonchalant. “She’s got a boyfriend anyway.” Tommy adds, Joel eyes him with full attention.

“A boyfriend?” He asks, trying to be sure he heard right.

“Yeah, overheard her talking to one of the girls in the garden a few days ago. Didn’t mention no names but she definitely said she was seein’ someone.” Tommy shrugged, Joel hummed with interest. “Anyway, it don’t matter because she’s way out of your league.”

“Thanks.” Joel retorts, sneaking one last look before focusing on the door behind Tommy, the one Ellie had not long barrelled in and out of just moments ago.

He wonders about the kittens she mentioned and gulps as he imagines her taking to one with its big eyes and soft paws, his mind is pulled back to a time in April when he’d come downstairs one morning to a sink full of tad poles she’d ‘rescued’ from birds out of the neighbours pond.

Basically, his girl can’t resist animals she deems too vulnerable to leave.

“Scared Ellie’s gonna come home with one of them kittens?” Tommy wonders, reading Joel’s mind.

“Terrified.”

********************************************

The sun is setting in bursts of burnt orange and marigold by the time he leaves Tommy to his own devices at the bar, he hazards a look around as he makes his way in the complete opposite direction to his and Ellie’s house.

He slinks around the back of the school house, slithering through the gap and walking up the winding path that leads to the stables. He climbs the short fence and hops to the other side, his boots kick up the dust from the dirt path and the crickets chirp beneath the skyline.

With one more look around, he opens to rear door to the stables and slips inside, shutting it softly behind him.

Immediately he hears the horses further down huff and puff, he can make out the swish of their tails hitting the walls as they munch on hay, there’s a neigh that is absolutely Shimmer kicking up a fuss about something.

He slopes around the riding gear and sees you leaning against the wall, hands behing your back. You grin.

“Took your time, cowboy. Was beginning to think you couldn’t take the hint and stood me up.”

“Never, honey.” Joel prowls towards you, ready to grab you. “Missed you.”

“You just saw me.”

“Not the same.” He yanks you close like a man starved, you’d shared company less than 24 hours ago but you greet and leave each other like it’s the last time you’ll ever be together. It’s the apocalypse affect, you know that, he does too

This arrangement had been going on for almost two months now, all started by a late night patrol together where you’d shared more about yourselves in an eight hour shift than both of your time in Jackson combined. There was an instant attraction, it was so easy to talk to one another and that’s what you did every single time you were partnered together and it became the highlight of your day. It started innocently and friendship had bloomed, then before you knew it you were sharing a rum laced thermos of tea with him in the bed of a truck and kissing him with reddened cheeks shortly thereafter. You’d first slept together in the same truck, just as dawn began to break. It was clumsy and quick but you couldn’t get enough of one another. You hadn’t cum but Joel promised next time would be better which lead to the question of next time? You’d been seeing each other most nights since.

Any chance you got, you were together. Nobody knew about you both, hence why Tommy was incessantly trying to hook Joel up with other women around town and jealousy burned as you listened in on their one sided conversations in the bar whenever you were covering for Darius.

You’d left the bar shortly before Joel had, waving farewell to him and Tommy, coming straight up here to check on the mare just as you’d told Denton. This was a usual spot to meet Joel, it wasn’t your first rodeo in the stables with him. It was the one place you could be alone after a certain time.

“Were you hiding from me, honey? Hmm?” He growls playfully, pulling you to him even though you were barely a millimetre away in the first place. You hum in response, so utterly lost in him. You’re nuzzling his throat, fisting his shirt, desperate for his attention. “God, you look so good today.” He murmurs, mouth finding yours. You moan softly, standing on your tip toes and kissing him in a way that makes his lungs and loins burn alike. His grey tinged moustache prickles your upper lip beautifully, his beard feels familiar beneath your soft hands.

He’s crowding you and guiding you backwards, kissing you hotly in a sense that makes your cunt throb eagerly. You moan into his mouth when he nips your bottom lip, squeezing the left cheek of your ass.

You love when he’s like this - playful and easy. He feels lightyears younger around you, it’s like the heaviness dissipates the moment he’s in your company. He loses himself in the way you smell, the way your hair feels when his fingers are entwined between the sun kissed strands, the way in which your eyes sparkle with mischief.

It’s easy to pull him towards the back of the stable, where the bales of hay were stacked created a nice wall of privacy. You’d been in here a couple of times with him, having gone as far to stash a flannel blanket in one of the cupboards to lay down as to protect you both from the cold floor and the prickle of loose hay.

Once behind the hay and seated on a bale with you in his lap, strong hands are moving the thin straps of your sundress down your shoulders, you momentarily break away from his mouth to aid the removal of your dress to your waist where Joel roughly bunches it up so that your underwear is now on show and so are your tits.

His eyes light up at your bare chest, like he hasn’t seen your breasts countless times before. One thing among many that you first noticed was that Joel Miller is a tit man through and through. His rough and work toughened hands cup them both gently before his tongue swirls around your left nipple.

“Joel.” You murmur, arching into him, rolling your hips into his. He’s hard already, age not affecting him like that in the slightest. He’s a hot blooded male, every single inch a man and that warms you to your core. You grab his hand, bringing it to the top of your panties and he slides it in without hesitation.

“Christ.” He curses, exploring your lips with his fingertips, gliding through the dewy wetness gathered there and coming back up for a split second to drag it over your clit roughly. You whimper, bucking into his hand. “Mmm, babydoll.” Joel huffs against your cheek in a hot pant, repeating the action.

“Need you so badly, Joel. Almost got started without you.” You confess.

“Fuck. You can’t- don’t say shit like that, honey.” He growls lowly, unbelievably hard beneath you. His fingers explore again, you aid his explorations by canting your hips just so.

Joel is eager to get things moving, he’s hard and frustrated, he has a beautiful woman in his lap and the perfect setting. He pulls his hand from your underwear, looking down to see the shine of you on him. He loses his mind when you take his hand and lead it to your mouth, sucking the tips of his index and middle finger as he watches with eyes blown wide; they look black instead of the earthy brown that sometimes melts into caramel or runny honey.

The minute you hum like a content cat, he has you lifted off his lap and braced against him. You squeal at the sudden shift, the ceiling looking closer than the floor but then he gently lays you back on the blanket and settles between your legs.

“Hey, who was Tommy trying to set you up with?” You blurt, Joel pauses.

“Cath.”

“She’s gay.” You frown.

“Michelle too.” He adds before diving down into your chest, pressing your breasts together, mouthing at the swell.

“I’m not sure you’re Michelle’s type, she’s a cougar apparently.” You remark, Joel ignores you in favour of sucking your nipples until they feel raw. “Why Michelle? I don’t understand why Tommy thinks she’s a good match for you.” You don’t know why this is coming up now, your mouth seems to have a mind of its own, the jealousy settling like lead in your stomach.

“He said she wants to make me a pie.” Joel pipes up, the confession half muffled.

“What kind of pie?” You ask, pulling his face from your tits. Joel groans frustratedly, looking up at you with eyes dark and deadly.

“I don’t know. Why does that even matter?”

“A cream pie probably.” You snarl under your breath, the jealousy swirling in the pit of your stomach like a rattled viper.

Joel laughs, shaking his head and coaxing your mouth back to his. “Gross.” He murmurs, kissing you softly and squeezing your hips as if to guide you back. “You know I only like your cream pies.” He jokes, this time you break into a smile.

“Now whose gross?” You snort, tugging his plain grey undershirt over his head and to the side. You run your palms over his chest and down to his softer stomach, digging your nails in as they drag a long his skin. Goosebumps erupt all over him.

Joel is softer in his older age but strong too, years of walking different terrain, heavy lifting and fighting have made him lean also.

You hum contentedly, tracing over those familiar scars that have been made in the 20 years since the world imploded.

“He said you were out of my league.” Joel suddenly admits, resting his hands on your spread knees. You frown up at him. “Tommy said you were out of my league.”

“Tell Tommy he doesn’t know shit.” You retort with an eye roll, grabbing Joel by his belt and yanking him forward. “I like you, Joel. Fuck what anyone else thinks, it’s not anyone’s business who we choose to be with.” You say softly now, kissing your way up his chin to his lips. “I like you.” You affirm again, Joel kisses you tenderly, weaving his hand into your hair as you moan quietly.

“Well, I like you too.” He says, kissing you with so much passion yet so much tenderness all at the same time as you fumble to unbuckle his belt. You yank it apart, tugging open the button and prying the worn denim apart with the hiss of his zipper.

He barely lets you wrap a hand around him over his boxers before he has both your wrists pinned above your head, you make a sad whine but all disappointment quickly dissipates when he shuffles down the length of your torso and yanks your underwear down so fast you feel the material leave a friction burn. He grabs your thighs and then manoeuvres your legs by the backs of your knees, you like where this seems to be going.

Your spine curves against the hard floor when his mouth makes that first contact, he starts slow with a lick up the length of you, then he lightly suckles your lips and gently licks over the hood of your clitoris.

“Joel.” You murmur, twisting the blanket beneath your fingertips, scrunching it and bitting down on your lower lip as he continues his gentle assault on your clit, the rubber toes of your hi tops dig into his ribs almost painfully.

His thumb comes up to gently push the hood of your clit back, the sensation of his tongue directly stimulating the nerve causes you to gasp and wind one hand down into his hair, you tug and he groans against you.

You’re transported back to one of the first times you’d been intimate together after sleeping together in the truck.

For some reason, it had shocked you that Joel Miller ate pussy like a champ. The first time he’d gone down on you - behind the bar just after you’d blown him - you’d prepared yourself for dissatisfaction and disappointment, only it never came. Joel had licked into you with such ferocity and precision that you’d almost keened over.

He’d made you cum so quickly that you’d barely had time to process the first swipe of his tongue on your clitoris and the climax that followed minutes later.

He’d looked up at you, moustache and beard slick with his eyes wide; ‘I forgot how much I enjoyed doing that’ he’d panted while you squeaked back in shock.

Now, as you live in the moment, you feel that tingle of pleasure building but you don’t want to cum without him inside of you. As much as it pains you, you tug on his hair, urging him back up.

“Wanna cum with you.” You pant when he looks up with dazed brown eyes, frowning a little. He seems to accept that and sits up, shucking his jeans and boxers down over his ass with the help of your clumsy hands. “Lay back.” You demand, he does so and you move to take his place.

You throw your legs over his and settle above his lap, he’s got one arm behind his head and watches as you take him in your first and tease yourself with the flushed tip of him. He breathes in sharply through his nose as you do it again before notching him at the site of your heat, you steady yourself and begin to sink down.

“Fuck me.” Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly because he’s so sure he’s in heaven. The sensation of your wet heat surrounding him never gets old, he’d forgotten how much he loved sex before meeting you.

“You’re so big, Joel.” You whimper, stroking his ego deliciously and he hates to be such a guy but the compliment goes straight to his dick.

“Fuck, honey. Take what you want, I’m yours - just fuck me.” He begs as you slowly begin to move, your nails scrape across his torso as you fall into an easy rhythm of rolling your hips into his. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.” He babbles, looking up and admiring the curve of your back and the way your tits bounce as you ride him.

“Mmm.” You whine, picking up the pace and throwing your head back which exposes your jugular and Joel just wants to sink his teeth into you because you truly look good enough to eat.

“Come here, babydoll.” He urges, pulling you down so you’re chest to chest. Your peer at him with pretty doe eyes, your lashes flutter as they shut to kiss him deeply, your tongue swipes his and you taste the tang of yourself on him. You moan louder when he manages to plant his boots on the floor and thrust up into you roughly, tangling his hand in your hair to keep you pressed against him.

It’s so hot in the stables, you’re both sticky and warm. But with your pretty moans and keens filling the air, Joel manages to easily forget the irritation from the heat.

You push against his chest to sit up and Joel grabs your hips, guiding you easily and you feel yourself getting close but you can’t achieve orgasm through penetration alone.

You brace one hand on his thigh behind you, tipping your head back as the pleasure becomes almost too much to handle. Your hips roll in an easy rhythm, his cock head hitting your G spot perfectly and you whine when the hand on your left hip moves ever so slightly until Joel was able to thumb your clit. He knows you so well.

“Oh f - fuck. You feel so good, you’re so good - fuck.” You babble, your hips moving faster.

“Jesus christ.” Joel huffs, throwing his head back against the hard floor, biting his bottom lip hard to stave off his orgasm. You feel so good wrapped around him; wet and snug, like crushed velvet.

He knows he can’t stay like this, he’s too close to finishing and he can sense you’re not quite there yet despite being edged so he makes the conscious decision to hold you and flip you both over with a nimbleness he didn’t know he possessed in his older age.

You stutter out a choked moan, arching into his strong hands. You drag your nails down his toned back, leaving a little spatter of blood in the red tracks.

Joel hisses when your nails puncture the skin on the globes of his ass, somehow trying to pull him closer and push him away at the same time.

“Where?” He asks, nodding downwards as he fights off his climax.

“Inside.” You reply without hesitation. You’d counted your cycle days, marking in a blank notebook the day number and your symptoms, pretty accurately guessing your fertile window and probable ovulation day by cervical mucus alone. You were four days from your period being due, it was safe.

“You sure?” He hesitates, brow furrowed hard with concentration, he’s a stroke away from finishing. He knows better than most people to not trust the pull out method and he knows the importance of contraception but he still ended up a Dad before he hit his mid twenties. Pushing sixty he’s still playing a dangerous game but so far, neither of you had gotten burnt.

“Yeah.” You gasp, fingers on your clit rubbing faster. You groan suddenly and twist into him, making pretty little whimpers and purring. He groans too, thrusting in hard once, twice and then three times. You feel his cock stiffen and twitch, then the pulse of subtle warmth of his cum spreading inside and aiming for your cervix. He works himself through it, you push in return as the aftershocks slow to a flat line.

Joel heaves a breath, resting on his forearms as you lazily kiss his neck in satisfaction and rapture. You sit there for a minute, basking in the afterglow until Joel grows too stiff and has to withdraw from you slowly, kneeling up between your legs to pull his boxers and jeans back up but he leaves them unbuttoned and his belt loose.

You don’t miss the primal look in his eyes when they drift to between your legs, he can see his cum leaking and the pearlescent finish it leaves on your lips. His cock twitches, perhaps if he was younger he could go for another round but alas, he settles next to you on the blanket, pulling you to his chest and cushioning your head with a strong bicep.

“I think that might have been the best time yet.” You pant breathlessly, looking up at the ceiling and seeing the evening sky through the cracks of wood.

“Maybe one day we can do it in an actual bed, I’m not sure how much more of these places my back can take.” Joel jokes, you giggle and turn into him, listening to the rapid pace of his heartbeat as it settles, a perfect mirror of your own.

“Not bad for an old timer.” You tease, giggling when he growls and squeezes your hip.

“Was patrol okay today?” Joel questions you, you nod lazily against him. “You come across anything?” Now you speak, leaning up to peer down at him.

“A couple of runners. We shot them in that abandoned gas station near the entrance to the offices off the trail. I think they were probably people passing through, one was infected on the journey and turned, then bit the other.” Joel hums, rubbing your lower back and hip. “I have some things for Ellie I found, by the way. I’ll drop them over tomorrow. Nothing crazy, just some things I thought she needed.” You say between kisses down Joel’s chest and sternum, your delicate fingers tracing out old battle scars.

“What like?” He asks, catching your hand as it reaches his happy trail, bringing it to his lips instead where he presses tender kisses to your fingertips.

“Pyjamas, underwear and some toiletries. Oh! And get this, a new casette tape for her walkman.”

“What tape?”

“Teardrops.” You grin.

“Womack and Womack? She’s gonna love that.” Joel says, laying back and smiling at the ceiling of the stables, humming the song in his head. “Fuck, I haven’t heard that song in - jesus - years.” He’s frowning, contemplating lost time, the whole concept of time evades him, it never used to at the start but now? It’s one big jumble, his time is defined by events and not a calendar.

“She still playing that one you got her on repeat?” You wonder.

“Yeah.”

“What was it again?”

“Bowie. Heroes.” Joel replies.

“Nice.” You nod.

As you lie there together in an easy silence, content to be together in the quiet solace of the stables, Joel’s mind wanders back to his earlier conversation with his younger brother:

“Hey, er - Tommy actually said something else earlier.” Joel winces at how awkward he sounds and you huff loudly, ready to hear what other dumbass thing he’s said. “He said he heard you say you have a boyfriend or that you were seein’ someone.”

You sit up, frowning down at Joel.

“Okay…” You reply hesitantly, uneasy now. “Am I not seeing you?” You frown.

“No - no! It’s… that came out wrong. I just meant - “ Joel grumbles, covering his face momentarily while you try to will your stomach from not sinking. “I don’t know, I just wanted to know if you meant me.”

“Seriously, Joel? This conversation is going so well.” You say dryly, utterly unimpressed.

“No! Oh my god! I can’t do this.” He groans, realising his mistake. “I’m sorry, that came out so wrong.” Joel apologises, you snort.

“Look Joel, I was talking to Mrs Patterson in the garden and she was telling me about her late husband, saying how lovely he was and how men just aren’t like that anymore. She asked if I’d found anyone and I let it slip that I was seeing someone, I didn’t mention any names and I can totally understand why you’re freaked when we haven’t even had that conversation ourselves. I shouldn’t have assumed this was anything more than sex, I’m sorry.” You annunciate, warm in the cheeks.

“You want to just have sex?” Joel is sat up now, matching your frazzled expression.

“If that’s what you want.” You shrug, taking an interest in your cuticles. A large hand lays over yours, squeezing. You shift your focus to his knuckles instead, tracing out the scars.

“Honey, look at me.” He urges softly, you hesitantly meet his eyes. “I think somewhere we’ve miscommunicated.”

“How so?” You press.

“Look… it’s been a long time since I’ve done this, I’m a little rusty. I’m sorry if I haven’t been clear about what we are or what I want us to be, I kinda just assumed you knew and yeah, that’s real shitty of me.” He says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I wanna be exclusive with you, honey. I mean, I have Ellie to think about so we’ll need to go slow just so I can ease her into the change. Is that okay?” He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

“That’s more than okay, Joel. I completely understand, I don’t want to spook Ellie either.” You confirm, Joel let’s out a relieved sigh.

“Good - good, okay. We’ll figure it out, baby.” He assures you, nuzzling his nose against yours and kissing you softly.

It’s easy to lose yourself in Joel Miller, you’re swept up in the gruff voice and strong arms, the softness beneath his outer shell reserved for those closest to him.

You’re kissing him back in earnest, he’s reclining to lay back down with you on top of him and you’re sure this could lead to round two or at least head from either one of you, maybe even both.

However, the moment is spoiled when you hear voices creeping closer to the stables. You both stiffen and wait, looking at each other with eyes opened wide.

The voices are getting closer and you decipher it’s two sets, it’s not made clear who it is until they’re walking behind the stables and you can see their shadows slink between the thin gaps in the planks.

It’s Ellie and Tommy.

You and Joel scramble, you yank your dress back over your breasts and pull the hem of it over your ass. Your panties are on the floor and you narrowly dodge Joel’s elbow as he hastily buckles his jeans back up just in time for the door around the corner to open with a shriek of the hinges.

“What if he’s gone out on patrol without telling me? Or maybe he’s swapped with someone and gone hunting? I know I’m back way earlier than he said but he said he’d be home! Do you think he’s left the gate? What if he’s hurt? What if - “ Ellie begins to ramble and Tommy sighs.

“Kiddo, stop worrying. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere, let’s look at the whiteboard and see if his name’s on there. I highly doubt he’s swapped shifts and he wouldn’t leave without telling you, he’s gotta be around here some…” Tommy’s reassurance comes to a stop when he round the corner of the hay bale wall and abruptly stops, staring at you and Joel with as much shock as you return.

Ellie slams into his back and he wobbles but his gaze never falters.

“What the fuck, man!” Ellie exclaims, shoving Tommy and stepping around his statue like form but also freezing too.

You look between them both, trying to formulate an excuse but Joel shoving his t-shirt on, the fact your clothes are crumpled and there’s absolutely hay in your tousled hair says it all.

Your panties are shoved behind your back out of view.

“Well I’ll be damned, you’re the guy she’s seein’!.” Tommy snorts, looking between you both. Joel growls, yanking on his flannel while Ellie manually retrieves her jaw from the floor.

“What the fuck is this?” She asks, looking between you and Joel. “You have a girlfriend? What the fuck, dude? You didn’t say anything!” She fumes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Look, it’s complicated and new.” He says, which placates her slightly. She stares at you again and you see the betrayal hidden behind a scowl, she looks at Joel again.

“Fine. I guess this isn’t that bad, it could be worse - we could of caught you with Esther.”

“That’s true.” Tommy nods, pointing at Ellie, she nods back.

“Esther?” You question, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, Tommy’s neighbour, she totally fancies Joel.” Ellie tells you. “You should fight her.”

“No, she doesn’t and stop shit stirring.” Joel warns Ellie, she hides a smirk which tells you she’s winding Joel up.

“I could take Esther.” You say, playing along, Ellie’s eyes brighten with mischief.

“Nobody’s fighting no one.” Joel settles, you’re all silent for a millisecond and then Tommy throws in his two cence.

“You could take Esther.” He agrees.

“Enough about Esther, please!” Joel begs, beside himself.

“This is fucking embarrassing, Joel. What the fuck do you expect us to do? It’s awkward!” Ellie complains, Tommy nods in agreement, you do too.

“Yeah? Try being where we’re stood, kid.” He retorts.

Ellie kinda has to resist the urge to throw up in her mouth because Joel has sex which is so horrifying that she almost can’t bare to look at him but she’s equally happy for him and utterly disgusted, she swallows back a retch.

“Fine, whatever. I’m very happy for you and my da - Joel.” Ellie bursts and corrects herself at the last minute, you don’t miss the hitch in Joel’s breathing but this is not the time for that discussion. “I’m willing to negotiate a price for the emotional damage you’ve both caused me by lying to me, sneaking around and also having sex in front of my horse.” She lists.

“My horse too!” Tommy adds.

“And Tommy’s horse too, Crash and Shimmer didn’t want to see your bare ass.” Ellie continues and for some reason Joel knows exactly where this is going, so he braces himself.

“Name your price.” He bites, Ellie looks at him with a levelling glare, it’s getting hard not to laugh when you see Tommy observing like he’s watching a mafia deal go down.

“A kitten.” Ellie reveals.

He fucking knew it.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal fanfiction

[greatooglymooglyyy]

Drowning (Chris Sturniolo)

contains: angst, drinking, verbal fighting, general sadness, a makeup, happy ending, 1.4k+ words

“Girl, what the hell are you thinking?” I snap at my best friend and roommate, Kelsey, as we whisper fight in the kitchen.

“Please, friend. I need you to wingman me. It's way too awkward if it’s just me.” She pleads, grabbing my wrist.

“This looks like a two man, Kels. Chris will kill me if he finds out there are three boys in our apartment.” I say with a sigh.

“Noooo, it’s so innocent.” She insists. “One of the boys is gay, and the other has a girlfriend."

“Kelsey…”

“Pleaseeeeeeee.”

I tilt my head back in defeat, closing my eyes, and pull my arm away from her. “Fine, but let me call Chris.”

She grins and kisses my cheek before grabbing a bottle of vodka and heading back into the living room with the boys.

I call Chris twice, but it goes straight to voicemail. He’s probably filming. I shoot him a text to call me when he’s done, and I head off after my friend.

***********

I throw my head back in laughter as one of the boys completes his dare to pretend to call his mom from jail. They have all actually been really cool so far, and I can tell Kelsey’s crush is feeling her as well.

I look down at my phone as I see Chris’ name flash across the screen. But as soon as I’m about to answer, the boy next to me accidentally knocks his drink over, right onto my phone.

“Fuck!” I say, hopping up and running to the kitchen to dry it off.

“Shit, I am so sorry.” He says, following right behind me.

“It’s okay. Just an accident.” I tell him with a tight smile.

He reaches above my head and grabs rice out of the cabinet and a zip-lock bag. “Here, leave it overnight, and it’ll be fine.” I nod and give him a small smile before dropping my phone in the bag with a sigh. I go back in the living room to Kelsey, my mood a little ruined.

“Can you text Chris that I broke my phone, please? I’m just gonna head up to bed.” I ask her. She frowns and checks the time, but I guess she reads the look on my face and just nods instead of complaining.

“Goodnight guys.” I throw over my shoulder as I head upstairs.

*****************

As soon as I wake up, I have a nagging feeling in my stomach. I head downstairs and, to my shock, see the boys from last night asleep on my couch. I massage my temples, feeling my irritation grow, and slip into the kitchen. “Thank god.” I say, as my phone powers on instead of the black screen I got last night. My stomach drops as I read all of Chris’ worried text from last night. I even have a couple from Nick and Matt.

I click his name to call, and he answers on the second ring.

“Hello?” He rasps, clearly fresh out of sleep.

“Hi, baby. I’m sorry about last night. My phone-”

“Hey, do you have an extra toothbrush?” A deep voice calls from behind me.

Shit. My breath hitches as I wait for Chris’ reaction. But instead, there’s just silence.

I turn to the boy behind me and shake my head, shooing him away, then clear my throat and call Chris’ name.

“There’s just no fucking way you’re that bold.” He says, his voice like steel. “Who the fuck is that?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you last night.” I say quickly. “Kels invited some friends over. That’s all.”

He’s silent again for a second, so quiet that I double-check that he didn’t hang up.

“So it’s a coincidence that the night there are boys in your apartment, you literally go ghost all night?” He says. His voice is so calm that if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was asking about the weather.

“Chris. I don’t know what you are trying to say, but nothing happened. How stupid do you think I am?”

“I honestly never thought you were stupid at all until right now. Or a fucking liar.” And then all I hear are those three distinct beeps.

***********

I’m laying in bed, watching my comfort show, and trying not to think of watching this same episode with Chris. It’s been a week since he went no contact. I stopped trying after calling back to back for two days straight. I can’t make someone trust me, and I’m not the type to chase a man who’s running. But it doesn’t stop my chest from tightening up when I think of him. When I think about the weight of his head on my chest and the calmness of his presence, it takes all I have not to cry.

I hear a knock on my door, and I sigh. I’ve been avoiding Kelsey, but it’s really not her fault that my boyfriend had no trust in me. I get up, swing the door open, and find her standing there next to Chris.

He looks about as good as I feel. He’s got deep purple bags under his eyes, like he hasn’t been sleeping. I want to pull him into my arms and hold him. I want to wrap my legs around his waist and never let go. But instead, I just stand there with my arms crossed because I don’t know how to love a boy who doesn’t trust me.

“Before you say anything,” Kelsey starts, reading my expression like only she can. “Me and Nick trapped him into hearing me out. I told him how it all went down. And I’m sorry, I played a part in this, but you guys need to talk this out.”

She pushes Chris into the room and slams the door shut behind him before I can even get a word in. And then I’m so close to him, I think it will kill me. I look down at his shoes so I don’t have to meet his eyes as I say, “It’s okay, Chris. You can go.” I feel the heat of his fingers on my face before I feel them. He tilts my head up to his face, and steps very slightly closer.

“I’m sorry.” He says, barely above a whisper. And his words pull me out of my trance, like I’ve had cold water dumped on me. Because I’m not just heartbroken, I’m angry. I’m pissed. I take a big step backwards and give him my most convincing, nonchalant shrug.

“It’s fine. It showed me what kind of person you think I am.” I bite out. He flinches and rubs his hand over his face. When he meets my gaze again, his eyes have a bit of fire in them as well.

“Are you honestly telling me that if I told you this same story, you would believe me, no problem?” He asks with a sarcastic edge to his tone.

I step back toward him, narrowing my eyes. “Maybe not.” I concede. "But I would have heard you out. We would have talked it out. I mean, fuck. Maybe even fought it out. But I would have never disappeared on you. I would never give up on us without a fight. But clearly, you don’t feel the same.” This hits him right where I want it to, and I can tell. Regret and defeat flood his face, and he goes to reach for me before thinking better of it and lowering his arms.

“If I didn’t trust you, it would have never hit this hard. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never had anything I was this scared to lose.” He leans against my door now, and I can tell he’s fighting back tears. I’ve never seen him cry before, and it absolutely guts me. All I want to do is forget all of this. But, my mom always said, to forget is to be a fool, and I need assurance that he's a safe place to land.

Then he meets my eyes again, and I feel all my resolve cave in on itself.

“How do I know you won’t take the next chance you get to run?.” I ask, fighting to keep my voice steady and backing up to sit on the edge of my bed.

"Because I’m telling you I won’t.” He says, following me and then kneeling between my legs. “I know you think I was running away this week, but really I was just drowning without you.”

I loop my finger around his chain and pull him up to eye level. “Never again, Sturniolo.”

“Yes ma’am.” He says with a smile before pressing his lips against mine.

#chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo angst #sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic

[bountycancelled]

LOST CAUSE

bada x reader (part 1)

MASTERLIST | NEXT

warnings: none really, it's just kinda sad

content: petnames (only one is used in reference to reader, but a few are mentioned) alcohol mentions (reader drinks away her feels) sad gays and bad gays, unedited becusse I'm lazy, a whole lotta projecting myself onto reader

being bada's best friend would be the death of you, you were calling it right now.

she wasn't a bad friend by any means, quite the opposite actually. from the late night talks that would last until the early mornings before you both passed out, the tiny, sentimental gifts she would randomly get for you without expecting anything in return, to the way she would hold you, god, she was perfect. you loved everything about her.

but, that was the problem, wasn't it? you loved her. and a part of you wants to blame her for making it so easy, falling for her, but you know that would be unfair. not only because she wasn't leading you on or anything, but also because she couldn't do any wrong in your eyes.

everytime your heart fluttered at one of her actions, it would sink just as quickly. she's doing this as a friend, you would always remind yourself. but your not so friendly reminders didn't stop you from hoping. for something more, that one day, miracously, bada would realise that she was in lo–

"what's got you so worried?" you were pulled out of your daily dose of dramatic reality checking by none other than bada. her head was in your lap, she stared up at you with a look that you could only describe as... content. comfortable. and so, so beautiful.

"huh?" you answered, having not heard her clearly, too busy being in your head instead of in the real world, where unfortunately, you belonged.

she raised her arm and pressed on the space between your eyebrows, a small pout on her face. "you're frowning. what's wrong, pretty?"

the nicknames. the fucking. nicknames.

pretty, gorgeous, baby, love, honey. it was things like that made you believe, even if just for a moment, that she knew that you liked her, loved her, and was just toying with you for enjoyment.

you'd feel guilty everytime you had that thought. she wouldn't. not to you, not to anyone, not ever.

"it's nothing, really. I'm just in a mood today." you shrugged, hoping that she would, for your sake, take your half-hearted explanation and leave it there.

she nodded, clearly unconvinced, but moved one nonetheless. "do you still wanna go to the club tonight? we can cancel and spend the night together instead." she offered, lifting her head off of your lap in favour of placing it on your shoulder, waiting for your answer.

"no, we can still go, we'll just come back here together. we've blown off our friends enough times, I'm starting to feel bad." you joked, and once again, the atmosphere was light and airy. with that settled, you both stood up, trying to find something to wear for the nights activities.

you walked into her closet, sprinkled with tops and skirts from your own, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation. for someone who claimed that being around bada was painful, your personal stamp on her home sure made it hard to believe.

"how's this?" you said for what felt like the 29th time to bada (it was only the third) as you spun around for her, showing off one of your options for the night.

she sat at the edge of the bed, ready to go about 20 minutes before you, as she usually was. her head was tilted back, staring at the ceiling as she waited patiently for you to finally choose something to wear.

you tried not to stare at her neck, which she made easier for you by finally looking at you, tilting her head to the side as she inspected your outfit.

"I was gonna say its looks as good as the other two because you look amazing in anything and everything, but... I like this one. a lot."

the way she looked at you when she said that, with her bottom lip between her teeth, stayed with you as you walked to the club together, hand in hand. did she really have no idea how much she affected you? you weren't sure if you hoped that she didn't, or did.

but you weren't going to think of that tonight. you were going to drink, and dance, and hang out with your friends, and not let bada affect you. if only for just one night.

okay, maybe you had had one too many drinks by now, but you weren't drunk just yet. it was still the normal you, just with a few tweaks. a little less shame here, a little more confidence here, nothing too major.

you were half in minah's lap and half in tatters, singing obnoxiously, almost as loud as the song blasting from the speakers. you weren't even thinking of bada... wait, where the hell was bada?

you squinted your eyes as they darted across the dance floor, hopelessly trying to locate her in the dim lighting of the club. but you didn't have to look for long, because she was headed back to your table, a smile painted on her face.

you stood up, suprisingly not stumbling as you walked up to her, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. "where were you?" you shouted over the music, wearing a curious expression.

she bit her lip excitedly before speaking into your ear, sending involuntary shivers down your spine. damn you and your natural charm, bada.

"I met a girl." you didn't mean for your face to drop in the way that it did, but from the looks of it, bada didn't even notice. if she did, then she didn't mention it.

"she actually wants to come over to my place..." bada trailed off, sending you a pleading look, a certain lust-driven glee shining in her eyes.

"oh." you said flatly before you could stop yourself, moving your arms away from her and crossing them over your chest.

she quickly wrapped her arms around your middle, squeezing while pleading her case in an effort to soften the blow. it doesn't help, not one bit.

"I know we were supposed to have a binging marathon, but please baby? just this once? I'll make it up to you real good, you know I always do." 'because I always let you.' you wanted to add, but you bit your tongue, you weren't feining for a fight with bada right about now.

you sigh, your arms hanging limply by your sides. "okay. I'll just crash at lushers'." you fight the urge to gag as she squeals in excitement, at the prospect of spending the night with someone who isn't you.

she gave you a curious look, most likely sensing your jealousy apprehension, her arms still around you, feeling more suffocating than comforting at that moment.

"...are you sure?" no. I'm not, don't go with her.

you nodded furiously, removing her arms from your frame, and turning her around, pushing her toward the dance floor where she had left her pursuit for the night. "go, she'll think you're blowing her off if you keep talking to me."

"are you actually, super, one hundred percent certain that I can go with her?" she pushed you further, and you knew that she knew that you weren't really all that okay with it.

but what was the point? you could easily sway her into sticking to the original plan, but she would've spent the whole night daydreaming about what could've been with the mysterious girl at the club. you didn't want to deal with that. you were tired of feeling like a second choice.

you wanted her to choose you, because she wanted to choose you. not because you asked her to.

'no, I'm not sure. I don't want you to go with her. I want you to choose me for once. choose me.' you screamed in your own mind, but all that could be seen on the outside was you smiling the best you could at bada, nodding once more before walking back to where the rest of your group sat, downing the drink in front of you.

you didn't know if it was even yours, but it didn't matter to you right now.

minah noticed your sudden change in mood, holding your hand in hers in a silent attempt to comfort you. you squeezed it as means of expressing gratitude, you didn't wanna talk about it.

but, you didn't need to. she knew, and if the downright pitiful looks the rest of the group were throwing your way were anything to go by, it seemed that everyone else knew too.

you wanted to leave, so you left. lusher had no problem going home early with you, she could tell that you weren't in a good headspace. you left with lushers arms around you, half to make sure that you didn't stumble, and half to try to make you feel a little better.

you left with a bitter taste in your mouth, and not from the shitty drinks you were downing.

you left without saying goodbye to bada, which you never did. she waved when she saw you by the door, that big smile still evident even in the dark lighting.

you didn't wave back.

a/n: this wasn't planned, and I wrote it in a day, but I hope you guys like it. also, doing a bada series and and a bada smau at the same time isn't my brightest idea, but fuck it, we ball.

#smau #bada lee #bada lee x oc #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #masterlist #bada lee fanfiction #bada #bada lee fluff #bada lee fanfic #bada lee smut #bada lee x y/n #bada smut

[billthedrake]

ACCOUNTABILITY (PART TWO)

Jim felt deeply ashamed. There was the shame that he'd caved to his baser sexual urges. Even when he having conjugal relations with his wife, the married father imagined he was fucking some nubile 19 year old porn chick from the Hot Guys Fuck video. Then, as Jim got closer and closer to cumming, Jim imagined a hot, jacked college dude in bed with them, hot masculine hands touching his body while he fucked. The very forbidden notion made him cum like gangbusters. And kept him hard after.

But the real shame came from the fact that his son had more willpower than than him. After the two escalated their infractions on the Covenant Watch app, Ryan stopped looking at porn. Cold turkey, stopping as quickly as he started. There were some exchanges of eye contact between them, almost like Ryan was apologizing silently for stopping the little game the two were playing.

Jim never felt prouder of his boy. He'd imagined his role as a father was to lead his family by Christian example, and here his eldest was taking that role for him. It was humbling as hell, but Jim McCready also realized that humility was part of the church's teachings. His Ryan had led him astray almost to teach him that lesson.

And it was reassuring to have his world returned. Family life. Church twice a week, dinners together, soccer practice for the younger kids, football games on Friday.

Thanksgiving Eve was the big end of regular season for Ryan's team. Practically a high holiday in their small town. It was a close game, which only made the victory that much more thrilling. On a Ryan McCready TD catch no less.

It was a storybook end to his son's high school football career, which is what made the notifications on his phone bright and early Thanksgiving morning that much more of a surprise.

Covenant Watch showed 92 infractions.

"Fuck!" Jim thought to himself, almost saying it out loud. He was mad at Ryan, genuinely mad. This wasn't dipping his toes into sin, it was wallowing in it. And Jim was mad that Ryan was doing this only because the teen expected his father wouldn't do shit to stop him. Jim was angry he'd been made accomplice to this, because of his own weakness.

Jim slipped on some casual clothes and made his way to his study. He wasn't sure he could use the excuse of checking work emails on Thanksgiving morning, but he needed privacy.

Every video was a gay porn video. Jim began clicking on each link. There were ones of jocks with coaches, and ones with two college-looking guys fooling around. There were amateur hookup ones, and some gloryhole cocksucking vids. Jim was lightheaded as he watched each one.

He wasn't going to get through 92 of them, or close. He didn't have time. And he was too turned on. He quietly lowered his sweats and spit into his palm. He went back to one of the coach and jock ones and pressed play. Four tugs was all it took for the man to send his cum flying all over his desk.

"Fuck!" he grunted as he came down. He grabbed some Kleenex to wipe off and clean up. He felt out of control, like a teenager, like Ryan, but strangely the intense emotions of guilt were gone. A good orgasm will do that for you.

Even when his son came down for breakfast, sleepy from what was clearly a late night stroking off, Jim didn't feel self conscious. Ryan and he had more in common than he ever expected. Jim wondered if he'd have to have a talk to check in with his son.

Ryan took a private moment later that morning to lean in and whisper to his father. "I needed to treat myself after winning the game last night," he said. "Hope that's OK, Dad."

Jim McCready was in full accomplice mode now. Ryan knew he wasn't going to say anything or do anything. And the comment was as much to save face for Jim as anything.

Still, the father didn't want to let on that anything bothered him. If Ryan was gonna make Jim his accountability accomplice, he was gonna lean into it all. "With that catch buddy, you probably earned more than 92 dings."

Ryan was surprised, at first. But then broke into a smile. "That was pretty awesome, right?"

Jim clipped his son's strong back with his hand, a paternal pat of affection. "Insane, Killer..." Jim winked. "Doesn't mean you don't get out of helping out your mother today, though."

Ryan laughed. One of his duties was to help with the prep and cleanup for his mom for Thanksgiving dinner. He was kind of her go-fer for the morning. "I'll get dressed."

***

Jim felt like he'd handled it well. This was just Ryan's hormones spiking. The kid would get over his kink soon. Find his willpower again. Hopefully settle down with a steady girfriend, though Jim's doubts there were starting to nag him.

Besides, he had his own hormones out of control. He found himself with an alone moment and idly pulled out his phone. "Two can play at this, kiddo," he said quietly and pulled up Pornhub. Selected Gay setting and searched for "coach." Some of the thumbnails looked fake. 28-year old "jocks" with 30-year old "coaches." Fake sets, fake clothes. But one was real enough. Hidden camera, dim lighting, real bodies. The jock was of age, Jim reflected thankfully, but maybe a college freshman or sophomore. Bent over a standard-issue metal desk and getting railed by a beefy coach, zip up top and whistle around his neck and naked from the waist down.

Jim McCready was hard as a rock. Even after jerking off that morning, his dick pressed a thick ridge in his jeans. He didn't have time to watch more than this and over the next four minutes he forgot he was doing this to taunt Ryan. He was caught up in the fantasy and his own bodily response to watching two men fuck.

"Fuck," he hissed as he closed the vid and slid the phone back in his pocket. He was hyperventilating. He reached down to grip his boner, trying to pinch it into submission. Thinking about his work stresses or the friendly wager he had with his buddies on the Cowboys and Lions games that day.

When he was presentable, he made his way back to the family room. The younger kids were watching some movie on TV, and the domestic scene made Jim feel another pang of guilt. He had a wonderful family, a devout family, and here he and Ryan were sinning. Not just sinning, but enjoying their mutual sin.

But the father let his attention drift into the movie.

"Hey Dad," Ryan's voice said from behind him. Jim turned to see his strapping son standing there, car keys in hand. "Mom wanted me to go pick up some milk at the convenience store... need anything?"

Jim used to chastise Ryan for going out underdressed for winter weather, but the kid seemed not to have a normal relationship to cold. It might be Alabama, but it was still November. Only now the father was glad to see Ryan in just shorts and his FCA t-shirt, the gold cross necklace matching his father's. Maybe it was the way Ryan's clean-cut image hid a truly naughty side.

"I'm good, buddy," he said, trying to take his eyes off his son's lean, tall, muscular body.

Jim was still processing his thoughts after Ryan left when he felt his phone vibrate. There was a text from Ryan.

"Good taste."

It was cheeky and impertinent and just the right thing to write to turn Jim on. Somehow Ryan's text arrived right before the Covenant Watch notification. "Video watched: Pornub, Coach fucks player after the game"

Jim McCready's heart pounded. He slyly looked to make sure the family was engrossed in the TV before he typed a reply. "I would have thought 92 would have been enough for you, kiddo." Gently chastising but mostly playful.

Ryan's reply was immediate. "I'm 18, Dad. What do you think?"

Jim's throat felt tight. He was getting horny. Again. The idea of Ryan getting off multiple times a day fueled his imagination. "I think I should be stricter with you," he wrote back. Jim couldn't tell if he meant it tongue-in-cheek or earnestly.

Ryan didn't reply. Hell, for all the times he'd told his son not to text and drive, he should have been happy. But Jim worried he'd put an end to his game. And he hated that he wanted it to continue.

Ryan picked it back up when the father least expected it. There was always a flurry of activity in the McCready household as the kids helped their mother bring all the food to the table and as Jim poured the water glasses at each place setting. They were just sitting down when Ryan appeared, face flushed. His son was up to something, Jim knew, and from the buzz in his pocket, Jim had a good idea what.

"Let's say grace," he said. Then he led the family in prayer.

The meal was sweet torture for Jim. Keeping his good-father poker face on while they ate and talked. He didn't feel boner-horny but that kind of nervous energy horny. And Ryan's flitting eye contact had something else going on. The kiddo was nervous.

And when they'd finished up, Ryan offered to do Jim's normal task of cleaning up. "You go watch the game, Dad," he said. "I got this."

Jim's wife gave a look of pleasant surprise. Jim returned it the best he could but he had a feeling Ryan had an ulterior motive.

The women in the McCready household would watch Auburn football but had no use for the NFL. So Jim's wife and their two daughters got ready to go out to the park for a post-meal walk. They were always making talk about eating too much and needing to walk off their meal.

They'd barely left when Jim checked his phone. The Covenant Watch notification read: " Video watched: XVideos, Gaycest, Sauna Time." The father looked over at his two boys. Mitchell was engrossed in the game. Ryan was pretending to be, while sneaking glances over at his dad.

Jim gulped. His heart raced. This was so wrong.

Slyly he picked up his phone again and typed out a text to Ryan. "Can't wait to watch it buddy." Blushing as he did.

Ryan smiled as he read it. And quickly typed back a reply. "It's really good, Dad."

Jim was throwing hard. He didn't really want Ryan to see his boner, and he definitely didn't want Mitchell seeing it. With a lewd thought the father realized his younger son would probably grow into the studly jock looks Ryan had. But that was a ways off.

The dad slid the phone into his pocket and waited for a commercial break. His hardon had almost gone down. Almost. He stood up from the couch and made his way to the restroom. He probably didn't have a lot of time, but he needed to watch this, at least part of it.

His heart was in his throat he was so excited. The title promised the taboo material, but surely this wasn't gonna be what Jim thought it was? As he clicked and watched, it was. There wasn't any explicit dad-and-son dialogue, but the two guys were clearly cast that way, in a sauna, getting hard with each other, before sucking each other.

Jim wanted to stroke. But he was already taking longer in there than he should. If Mitchell hadn't been around, he thought with a shudder. With a pinch at the base of his prick, he willed himself into a softer state then stuffed his meat back into his briefs.

His face was flushed when he returned. Ryan noticed and had a grin. Mitchell was oblivious.

"Good?" came Ry's text.

Unconsciously, Jim nodded. But he typed anyway. "The best I've seen."

Ryan gave a darting glance over to his little brother. The jock was enjoying the sneaking around, Jim knew. Jim couldn't tell if he enjoyed that part too or if it was just uncomfortable torture.

A message came in on Jim's phone. "I've thought about that for a while."

Jim hadn't. But he knew he would now, and the idea Ryan had perved on him only made the idea hotter. "Yeah buddy?" he typed, now getting into the flirtation.

"You have no idea Dad." Ryan's cocky expression was giving way to a shy one.

Jim grinned now. "Maybe you can tell me sometime."

"I'd like that sir."

Jim McCready was boned now. Full on hard. He angled his body so Mitch couldn't see. But he spread his legs so Ryan could.

The high school senior smirked and did his own manspreading. There was a hard ridge riding up his son's loose shorts.

Just then the front door opened, the sound coming in from the other room. The women were back.

***

Ryan woke up late. He'd stayed up edging before finally shooting a huge load. It wasn't quite 92 videos this time, but it was a couple dozen. And some incest porn stories. He was a little mad at himself for even denying himself porn before.

He had to laugh at his morning wood now. His father had actually eyed up his cock. And shown his own. Ryan leaned up in bed. Plenty of time to take care of his needs later. Maybe he and Dad could tease each other some more. Ryan was VERY surprised at how this had escalated. Maybe the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree.

And, as he checked his phone, there were 117 Covenant Watch infractions. Most incest themed, at least the top listings. Ryan didn't bother to scroll through them all.

"Fuck!" he gasped.

He got dressed and made his way down to the kitchen. It was empty and he could see why. It was 10 AM. His mom and sisters liked to hit the Black Friday sales. Ryan wandered through the house. He had a good idea where his father was. Indeed as he approached his father's study, he saw the door cracked. He gave a quick knock.

"Come in, buddy," came his father's voice.

His dad was seated as his desk, in his preppy polo shirt that molded to his fit muscular upper body. From where Ryan stood he wasn't sure what his father was wearing below the waist, but the man's hand was down at his crotch, clearly jerking off while he held the phone in his other hand.

Jim looked up at him with a horny look. "Mitchell's over at his friend's, the girls are gone... it's just us, Killer." The tone was jocular but with a raspy edge to it.

"Yeah?" Ryan asked. The implications setting in.

Jim nodded and with a fateful motion he set down his phone and stood up. The man was indeed naked beyond the polo, and a thick hard ridge of dad meat stood up, a slight curve to the otherwise ramrod straight boner.

"Fuck!" his son gasped. Any retreat of his morning wood was giving way to a renewed hardon.

Jim's heart raced. This was so wrong, and he couldn't even believe he was doing this. Showing off his cock to Ry. But the young stud had worked him up, enraged him as surely as waving a red flag at an angry bull. The father's libido was now out of control. "You wanted to see me, right?"

Ryan nodded. He'd been the one to push the envelope so it was wild to see his father take the initiative like this. Silently he pushed his own shorts down, over his matching teen boner.

"Nice..." Jim grinned. "You're hotter than those porn dudes," he added.

Ryan could barely speak he was so horny. "You, too. I mean... fuck!"

Jim walked around, slowly, his thick hard paternal dick waving some with his steps. "We got a few hours alone, buddy."

Ryan was moving toward his dad, too. Was this really gonna happen? The touch of his father's hand on his hip was the first indication it would. Then a second later, their dicks touched, two McCready cocks making contact.

"God help me, son," Jim hissed as leaned in and turned his head just slightly before his lips pressed against Ryan's.

The jock was light headed as he felt his father's tongue trace his lips, then press into Ryan's opening mouth. It was his first french kiss was a dude, and it was his own dad. The videos of incest had been hot as fuck, but this was on another level. Pure mindblowing thrill. He hissed back and started feeling up any bit of his dad's body he could.

Jim was doing the same, humping Ryan's hard crotch and feeling up the kid's bare ass. "My room or yours buddy?" the man finally asked with a bedroom voice Ryan had never heard from his father. It was one that could have barely imagined. Sultry, deep, and playful.

"God, yours, Dad," he hissed. It was SO wrong to fool around in his parent's bed, and yet that's what Ryan wanted.

Jim grinned at that and gave Ryan's rump a light slap. For 18, the kid had an amazing rump, muscular and thick. "Naughty boy," he hissed. "My room it is."

Ryan's heart was pounding double time as his Dad led the way. Jim had an incredible ass, too, meatier and thicker with age. But his father was in shape and still a total stud. The two stripped down completely before the man sat on the bed's edge and pulled Ryan's cock body toward him. They kissed in that position a second, before Jim grunted and used his strength to leverage his football jock son up and on to the mattress.

Ryan was seeing a new Jim McCready, and feeling his father in all the man's nakedness too, as Jim climbed on top of his son, kissing and mauling every inch of the younger flesh.

"Dad," Ryan grunted. So turned on, but his mind racing a million miles an hour. "We could get caught."

"Fuck yeah we could," Jim growled before covering his son's mouth with his own. Again, that deep tongue kiss, more urgent than before. Jim McCready was full-on enraged with lust and it was rubbing off on Ryan. The older man had a grin when he finally pulled back. "But we're probably not gonna."

Already his was using his legs to push his son's legs apart. "You cherry, Ry?" he asked in a throaty rasp.

Ryan nodded. He was nervous but harder than he'd ever been in his life. Feeling his dad's body, seeing his dad's cock, and witnessing his dad's sexual hunger. That gold cross necklace a reminder of his father's outstanding public persona, a contrast to the sin they were committing now. "Yes, sir."

That answer made Jim's nostrils flare in excitement. Already he was reaching over for lube in the nightstand. It didn't get a lot of use. His and Kelly's sex life was normal, vanilla, and while Jim resorted to masturbation some he kept his habit in check. At least until lately.

"You can say no anytime, Ryan," he said, the father role returning, even as he applied the liquid to his son's jock hole.

"I want it, Dad," Ryan answered, his body breaking into goosebumps to feel his Dad's finger circle then penetrate his tight sphincter. He looked down at where Jim's arm was wedged between his spread legs and back up into this dad's hungry eyes. "I'm scared," the teen added. "But I want it."

Jim nodded. His finger pressed in and out slowly. "I got ya buddy. I just want this SO bad." He leaned in and kissed his boy while he fingered Ryan with a second digit. Then a third.

They didn't extend the foreplay. They were too worked up, and they'd been building up to this for the last 24 hours.

Ryan wish it didn't hurt, but the penetration stung.

"There, buddy," Jim said, the softer side of his bedroom voice coming out. "I'm inside in ya, Killer. Inside my son."

"Fuck, Dad," Ryan gasped. The psychological side of the incest fuck was winning out over the physical sensation.

More dad dick was sliding in him. "This is what you wanted right? What you wanted when you first sent me those videos?"

Ryan pulled his legs wider. Trying to accept his father inside him. He needed every inch of his dad now. "I don't know. Is this what you wanted when you set up the accountability buddies thing?"

Jim bottomed out and wildly kissed his son again. Not a protracted kiss, but deep. He pulled back with a leer on his face. Already his was pumping Ryan, fucking him. "I had no fucking idea, Killer. No idea how depraved I was."

"I like you depraved, Dad." Ryan said, maybe louder than he should. But they had the house to themselves. Hopefully.

His dad's hips pumped faster. The physicality of the cock thrusting in and out felt good to Ryan, the harshness turning into a pleasant intensity that made his ass and cock and hole buddy buzz.

"You got it, Ry. Gonna be hard to keep my hands off you." The man was losing focus, the pleasure and tightness of Ryan's ass getting him close so soon. He paused and reached over for the lube again. He'd watched this in the videos, the bottom jerking off while getting fucked. He wanted his son to get off, too, like one of those porn dudes.

The second Ryan's hand wrapped around his lubed prick, the sensations in his ass felt night and day different. No longer challenging, every movement of his father's cock, whether small or deeper, made his cock feel more pleasurable.

"Go for it, buddy," Jim urged. Fucking faster, leaning in more to gaze down into Ryan's youthful handsome face. The father was gonna cum any minure, any second, but he hoped his son would get there too.

"Fuck me Dad!" the jock cried, his toes curling and his body entering a deep O.

"God yeah, Ry! Shoot it!" Jim watched in excitement as heavy ropes of white cum shot out and landed on Ryans' mostly smooth ripped torso.

Three more hard shoves was all it took for Jim to unload. Ass fucking was so different than sex with Kelly. Jim was addicted.

The father and son made out, clinging to one another while the dad's prick slowly softened and retreated it.

Jim was in tender lover mode as he stroked Ryan's hair and held the boy close. "So.. I got your cherry...."

"Yes, sir," Ryan said. It was wild the number hormones did on you, the teen thought. Making you hard charging one minute, clingy the next. He'd experienced this with girls, but with his dad it was a hundred times deeper. "I'm glad you got it."

"I'm going to hell," Jim said, half a joking comment but the religious misgivings were real and coming on strong.

"It'll be worth it," Ryan said softly. "Please... don't freak out on me, Dad."

Jim gave a smile and patted Ryan's warm chest. "OK, no freaking out, buddy. Promise." He looked up at the clock. "We have maybe two hours. Wanna get showered off?"

Ryan nodded. He was glad his father helped him up off the bed. The jock felt surprisingly drained from the sex.

The energy came back as they shared a shower, though. Sudsing and rinsing each other. Kissing each other beneath the spray. Getting hard again. Jim held his son and pulled the wet warm athletic body toward his. The kid was right. Hell would be worth it. His hands snaked down to cup Ryan's bubble ass, a finger digging in naughtily.

"How you doing down there, Killer?" Jim asked, concern but also flirtation in his voice. The father felt very honored to have taken his stud son's anal virginity.

Ryan gave a soft grin. "Empty, sir."

Jim let out a soft grunt. He kissed Ryan, harder, then pulled off and turned the football jock around.

Ryan knew what was happening and he wanted it. Who knows how often he and Dad would have the chance for this. He braced one arm against the tile wall and reached back to pull one cheek apart, letting his father in.

Jim was fuck hard now, and quickly sudsed up for lubrication. The entry was easy now, Ryan now learning how to relax.

Ryan grunted a grunt of pleasure. His dad hit some amazing spot deep inside him. "Yes," he hissed just as he felt his dad's lips kiss the back of his neck.

"It's like fucking honeymoon sex," Jim growled. Thrusting into his boy once more.

It was a thrill to hear his dad curse and get that bedroom voice. But Ryan's head also went to the idea of his dad fucking his mother on their honeymoon. Maybe that's when Ryan was conceived...

Their pairing was less verbal as the men communicated with their bodies. Jim's slow but urgent pump in and out of Ryan's ass, the father's hands caressing and holding the jock's wet muscle. Ryan arching his back in just the right position to be taken.

Jim came alone this time. His muscular middle aged body thrusting more spasmodically into his son's smoother one, the grip around Ryan's torso getting tighter and more possessive as he nutted inside his son's bare ass for a second time. Then the soft kisses and relaxation returning.

"God, Dad," Ryan whined. He so turned on. He never wanted this feeling to end yet he also needed to get off.

There was that light smack again as Jim withdrew. "Turn around," came the back of an order.

Ryan complied automatically, showing off a hardon that was matched in size and shape to his father's. Not a twin, but clearly related.

Already Jim was crouching down in the shower, the spray soaking his hair as he leaned in and swallowed his boy's prick.

"Yeah!" Ryan gasped. He was so primed it wasn't going to take long. Just six or so bobs of his father's mouth on his cock did it. Ryan was spurting hard and heavy into Jim's craw.

The jock didn't know what to expect but he watched as his dad clearly swallow it all. The man had a proud look on his face when he finally stood up too. "All right, let's get dressed. I better air out the bedroom too."

Ryan was concerned that the post-nut business-like vibe was his Dad's way of feeling guilty. Or dealing with the guilty. As he went back to his room and got properly dressed, Ry felt like he should be feeling guilty himself. But he wasn't. He went to his father's study and gathered his and his dad's shorts and brought them and his father's phone to him.

"No one can fucking know," Jim said. Not harshly but clearly needing to say it.

"Of course, Dad. Jesus."

Jim smiled and patted Ryan's arm. "You've certainly grown into a fine looking man."

Ryan grinned back. He could see a glint in his dad's eyes. "You wanting round three, sir?"

Jim laughed. "Can't fucking risk it, buddy. But yeah..."

An idea occurred to him. "Why don't you keep a watch?"

That got the dad excited. "You mean?"

Ryan nodded. So Jim stepped to the bedroom window, where he could peer out onto the driveway.

Meanwhile his son knelt down and started unzipping his father's jeans. The dick was plump and firmed out completely in Ryan's fingers.

"Oh yeah, buddy," Jim hissed. Ryan had about as much technique as he did - not a lot - but it didn't matter. His kid was eager and the idea of getting a Ryan McCready blowjob had Jim getting close in due order.

"I'm gonna blow," that bedroom voice hissed. A warning.

Ryan kept at it, though, sucking a little faster and trying to take another inch of his dad's cock into his throat. The whole experience was incredible. He didn't even know if he'd enjoy sucking another guy remotely like he did his father.

The cum shot wasn't heavy. Just a spurt and some dribbles. But Ryan was tasting his dad's cum for the first time. Sweet and briny. He knew he'd want more in the future.

He finally backed off to see his dad grinning down on him, even as the man was already tucking himself back into his jeans. "That, young man, was amazing." He looked out the window. "Fuck!" he grunted.

Ryan didn't need to be told. He got up and made his way down to the family room. He turned on the TV and found some ESPN channel, right before he heard his mom and sisters walk in.

"You're dressed," his mother said when she saw Ryan. "I thought you might sleep in the whole day." Then, "Where's your dad?"

Ryan shrugged, playing dumb. "I don't know. In his study, maybe."

Already his sisters were rushing past with shopping bags, acknowledging their older brother, but barely.

Ryan's phone buzzed. He saw he had a message from his friend Kyle. But the latest one was from his father. "Thank you, buddy. I owe ya."

Ryan smiled. Then another message came in. "James McCready, Covenant Watch app removed."

"You dog," Ryan quietly said to himself. Then proceeded to remove the app on his own phone.

#drakestories

[ctitan98official]

When Steve, Tony, Clint and Y/N go on a small mission

Everyone: *Piling into the quinjet*

Y/N: *Happily walks onboard*

Steve: *Holds a hand out, stops Y/N* Alright, Y/N. Do you have everything you need to keep you occupied on the flight? I don’t want a repeat of the last mission when you got bored and forced us to play charades for nine hours.

Y/N: *Checks their backpack* Let’s see… Comic books, my yo-yo, a rubiks cube, aaand… A dirty girly magazine! *Shows it to Steve* Full frontal and everything!

Steve: *A respectful gay man, cringes, sighs* Anything else you’re missing?

Y/N: Nope! That’s it. I- *Gasps* WAIT! *Runs back into the compound*

Tony: *Getting impatient, groans from his seat* What the hell’s the hold up?!

Steve: Y/N is-

Tony: *Nods in understanding* Ah, say no more.

Steve: *Shakes his head, goes over to the controls and sits down*

Y/N: *Comes running back* Okay! All good.

Steve: *Turns to Y/N* Great. Are you sure you- What the?!

Y/N: Can you believe I almost forgot these?! *Carrying Wanda and Natasha over their shoulders* That would have been a disaster!

Wanda: *Embarrassed* Hi…

Natasha: *Waves casually* Hey, guys.

Steve: Y/N, this is supposed to be a small mission. You can’t just bring your wives along!

Y/N: *Expression darkens, clearly about to throw a childish tantrum*

Clint: *Panics, looks at Steve* I think it’ll be easier on all of us if we just let Wanda and Natasha tag along.

Steve: *Ever the stickler for protocol* But the mission-

Tony: Steve, why screw up a good thing. *Points at Y/N* Look at how quiet they are.

Y/N: *Already snuggled up in the corner, getting a head massage from Natasha and kisses from Wanda, blissed out*

Tony: I don’t know about you, but I’m not really in the mood to listen to Y/N explain why they think Limp Bizkit is the greatest band of all time again.

Clint: Or hear them complain about us not stopping at McDonald’s on the way home…

Tony: *Nods emphatically at Clint* Yeah! Or hear them-

Steve: *Wearily rubs his eyes* Fine, Wanda and Natasha can stay.

Y/N: *Happily cheers from their wife cocoon* Yay! Thanks, Steve! :3

Masterlist

#marvel mcu #mcu #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #peter parker #y/n is stupid #tony stark #mcu incorrect quotes #clint barton #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

[rehfan]

*opens calculator app* 😂 Wait so you were nearly the same age as the kids in Stranger Things in the RL 1980s? I'm so curious, do you have any pet peeves or things you chuckle about when it comes to the younger generation writing about experiences they've never had? Example, I'm in my early 30s so it's funny to me when I can clearly tell someone is currently in their early 20s by the way they write conversing on a landline phone. Like, not judging anyone or their writing. But it's amusing to be able to tell they grew up with mobile phones and wifi as the norm and I am really curious if you have that about the way my or any other younger generation writes certain things.

I was nearly the same age as the Party, yes. In 1986 I was actually 12 - which puts me in 7th grade/beginning of 8th - so I was more Erica’s age.

I had a Trapper Keeper. (Several actually.) I had leg warmers (red - given to me as a present) but I only wore them once because they felt stupid. My VERY FIRST CRUSH was on a senior student the next year (our school was a Jr/Sr High School so everyone from grades 7-12 were all in one building) and he looked JUST LIKE EDDIE. Not exaggerating. So when I saw the beginning of Season 4… I kind of lost my mind a little.

My “Eddie”:

When I finally got to high school (1988-89) I looked just like Eddie. Denim jacket with the buttons and pins, wild curly brown hair, all that.

I’m the chick circled in red talking with my friends:

So when I read fic written by younger people, I do tend to fact check them in my head. For instance: CDs were not a widespread thing until the 90’s y’all. (Google is your friend.) And most people of means had a set of encyclopedia in their homes, but they tended to only buy ONE set. Once outdated, there was no replacing them because they were EXPENSIVE. So going to the library for research was a thing. A BIG thing. There was no internet, of course, so that’s all we had. That, and our parents and teachers. That’s all we had to go for information about EVERYTHING — including sex.

Remember too: this is also 1986 and that’s the beginning of the height of the HIV/AIDS crisis. Gay men were dying in droves. No one knew the cause, but most figured that if it was relegated to only the gay male community then… *collective society shrug*. The insidious illness also added to the intended insult of being called “gay” or a “gaylord” at that time. Effeminate males were ostracized, treated as “other”, and even beaten and killed. It was dangerous to be Out - but it was also dangerous to exist. It was (for the most part, and to my limited understanding) a hidden-away hookup culture by necessity with an even darker underbelly because having sex could be a death sentence. Most all the Steddie stuff I’ve read set in that time tends to ignore these undertones - including homosexual characters practicing unprotected sex.

But if a writer is only smut-focused when writing their fic, I can see why that choice was made.

And even the Duffers kinda fucked up. In Season 4 Ep 1, the song that played (“Do You Want To Play”) when Dustin and Mike are tearing around the school looking for an extra to fill in for Lucas for D&D, that song (by Extreme) didn’t come out until 1988. I know - I owned that album. On cassette tape. Bought it when it came out.

So all in all, no one’s perfect and all these stories are based around a small town experiencing supernatural craziness, so I’m willing to give it all a pass.

Go write your fic, kids. And if you want An Old to 80’s-pick your fic, my ask is always open.

#fanfic #writing #personal #fandom #stranger things #eddie munson #joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe keery #steve harrington #steddie

[hauntedestheart]

Security Footage - Bodyhoppers

One of Trevor & Andy’s misadventures, a more detailed account of the sort described in Security Measures - Hoppers

This was the bar Paolo always went to when he was looking for a hookup, and he'd hit the jackpot tonight with this guy. Andy, as he'd introduced himself, was a tall drink of chocolate milk with a pretty face and a killer body who seemed very into himself (who could blame him?) and very interested in getting out of there with Paolo... and Paolo was thinking that he just might let him.

They'd been chatting for about twenty minutes, the obligatory idle small talk that allowed them both to pretend they were interested in each other as people rather than just warm bodies, but Paolo's patience was wearing thin and he was spending less time looking into Andy's deep brown eyes and more time looking at the deep crease between his pecs. Andy was talking about some kind of video game when Paolo chanced another glance, and when he looked back up, he found Andy looking at him with a knowing smirk.

"You're checking me out," he said, a hint of smugness in his voice like he knew he was hot, and got pleasure out of being admired- Paolo found it incredibly attractive.

"I've been eyeing you up since the second you sat down and you know it," Paolo fired back, not a trace of shame in his voice. His eyes flicked up and down Andy's sculpted form. "Come on. Look at you."

"Look at me? If you insist..." Andy tugged the hem of his shirt up for a moment, exposing the abs Paolo had been hoping lurked beneath the fabric, and Paolo licked his lips. Andy, for his part, seemed equally delighted by the sight of his tight midsection and was still staring at them as he popped his next question. "Damn, I look good! Are you maybe interested in helping me see what this body can do?"

Paolo grinned- finally.

He leaned forwards and closed the gap between the two of them, pressing their lips together into a deep kiss, sticking his tongue into the other man's mouth to get a taste of what was in store for the rest of the evening. Andy groaned into his mouth, his deep voice sending shivers down Paolo's spine, and he yanked his partner even closer with a sort of roughness, like he didn't know his own strength too well, but Paolo, swept up in the moment, seized on the momentum and leaped onto Andy's lap. He straddled the hunk's strong thighs and Andy's hips bucked up instinctively in response; Paolo felt an almost comically large mass of flesh grind into the seat of his pants and press into the crack of his ass.

"Jackpot," he heard Andy mutter, and Paolo couldn't disagree- he was even more excited by the prospect of a hookup now that he knew Andy's private parts were just as impressive as his public ones.

Speaking of public, both men seemed aware that they were making a rather brazen display of themselves in a public setting, but neither seemed to care. They were far from the first couple to be spotted making out at the counter of a gay bar- Paolo had even heard rumors that management encouraged it because it "set a good tone" for the establishment. Two hot studs getting physical for all to see... what was there for anyone to complain about?

Because of this, it took Paolo a bit by surprise when he heard someone clear their throat and felt them tapping on his shoulder to get his attention. He growled, more than a little upset at such a hot make out session getting interrupted, but he pulled away from Andy and turned his attention to the newcomer- a skinny young Latino guy who was staring at the two of them with bemusement.

"Hey, I'm Trevor," the stranger announced, giving a shy little wave. "Sorry to interrupt!"

"Enjoying the show?" Paolo gave the interloper a withering glare, placing one hand on Andy's firm chest as a way to clearly mark his territory, and as a reward he felt Andy's big hand snake around him and pinch his bottom. Trevor glanced down at the hand and raised his eyebrow, and Paolo sneered in the most bitchy manner possible. "As you can see, we're kinda in the middle of something, so..."

"Of course," Trevor said through gritted teeth, then he met Paolo's eyes and gave him a dry smile. "I just need you to know that the guy you're sitting on is actually already taken."

The young man called Trevor lifted up his phone and held it out to display a photo of him and Andy together, Andy's big arms wrapped around his midsection as he leaned down to press a kiss into the top of his partner's head, and then he flicked his thumb to swipe through several other photos of the two in similarly romantic positions. Paolo noted that each photo was timestamped, showing a variety of dates from over a year ago to as recent as the week before. Alarm bells started going off in his head so he glanced back at Andy, who seemed just as surprised as what was on the screen as he was.

"Oh shit," Andy muttered, looking distinctively guilty, but he didn't tell the guy to get lost, which confirmed to Paolo that the two probably did have some form of relationship. Well, fuck.

In light of new information, Paolo found himself struggling with indecision. On the hand, he was horny as hell and the fat bulge he was sitting on let him know that he wasn't the only one. But on the other hand, Paolo was not a homewrecker and acting as someone's side piece was so tacky! But on another hand, he didn't know the full situation and if Andy was into it, who was he to say no? But on a fourth hand, getting involved with a guy whose "boyfriend" was willing to make a scene in the middle of a public bar seemed to be a questionable choice. But also, one of his real life hands was currently on Andy's massive bicep and it felt like pure sex so maybe the trouble was worth it?

Fortunately, Trevor seemed to read Paolo's thoughts and decided to make up his mind for him.

"Look, I'm going to level with you-" Trevor began, and there was a somewhat bored look on his face as if the interaction were more akin to customer service than anything else. He pointed at Andy, who was still gaping at him like a fish, and he shook his head. "I know he's hot and you're probably thinking of risking it for him but there is some weird stuff going on here you don't want to get in the middle of. Move on."

He stared at Paolo with an even, steady gaze, and something about his confidence was incredibly unnerving- it made Paolo think that despite his small stature, Trevor was the kind of guy who would cause a lot of trouble if he had to.

Fuck it, Paolo thought to himself, and he reluctantly slipped off of Andy's lap and shot the man an apologetic glance. "This is getting too weird for me, I'm out. Hit me up sometime if you ever work out... this."

Andy muttered a half-hearted protest but he let his hands fall from Paolo's waist, allowing the other boy to slip away from him, and Paolo took one last longing look at the sexy stranger before he shuffled off in search of a safer conquest for the evening.

Trevor slipped into the empty stool he'd left behind and flagged down the bartender, glancing sidelong at his boyfriend before setting his phone down on the counter and digging into his pocket for his walled. An uncomfortable silence settled in and Andy winced awkwardly- one hand came up to rub the back of his neck as he searched for words.

"Hey baby, I can explain, I was just-"

Trevor cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You can stop there, I know you're not him." He ignored the other man's dumbfounded expression in favor of flashing the bartender his ID and setting some cash on the counter. "Can I get a hard cider? And get him a rum and ginger ale with a splash of lemon please, it's his favorite."

The bodyhopper, now exposed, swore under his breath- he thought this had been one of his cleanest snatches yet, the dude fit him like a glove, but apparently he hadn't done as well as he'd thought. He should have known that snagging a hunk like Andy on a Saturday would be too good to be true. With a sigh, he slumped over the counter and lolled his head sideways to stare at the other boy.

"Fuck, did you see me hop him?" he asked, double checking to see that the bartender wasn't nearby and they could speak freely.

"No," Trevor shook his head and gazed at the back of the bar, idly studying the assortment of bottles lined up against the wall. "But when I got back from the bathroom and Andy was gone I kinda figured that something was up." He turned and wagged a finger at the body hopper inside of his boyfriend's body, almost like he was chastising a disappointing student. "You were on the right track taking him to a different bar- smart to leave the scene of the crime -but disappearing without giving some kind of excuse to the bartender or sending a text was a mistake. Leaving is one thing but leaving without an explanation raises questions."

"Damn, you're right," The hopper grimaced at his rookie mistake- he'd been so excited to be inside such a handsome body that he'd forgotten to cover his tracks. Speaking of which... "How did you track me down?"

"Location services are on," Trevor tapped the back of his phone. "I always know where Andy is."

"You just track your boyfriend's location all the time?" The hopper's eyebrow raised a little judgmentally. "That's kinda creepy."

"Creepy? I guess it kinda is," Trevor's tone was as dry as a desert. "Boy, I sure would hate to feel like I'm doing anything too... let's just say invasive, to him."

Trevor gave the hopper a pointed look, and the hopper slouched a bit and shuffled in his seat awkwardly. Touché.

The bartender arrived with perfect timing, depositing Trevor's order in front of him, and the young man nodded his thanks. He grabbed the bottle of cider for himself then slid a glass full of pale amber liquid across the counter towards the hopper, who eyed it with confusion.

"Here, try this," Trevor said after a sip of his own beverage, nodding towards the glass. "Ginger ale, lemon, rum. Andy prefers it to beer."

The hopper thought it sounded like a strange combination but, not wanting to be rude, he sat up and took a small sip. When the concoction hit his tastebuds, he groaned.

"Oh my god, that's good," he licked the spare drops off of his lips, savoring the tangy flavor, and Trevor shot him a look that said I told you so.

"Yeah, the big guy swears by it," Trevor said, referring to the real Andy, and he shook his head and gave a fond little smile. "It takes like cleaning fluid to everybody else but it's magic on his tongue."

Then the smile dropped from his face as Trevor adopted a serious expression and clasped his hands in front of him, turning in his stool to face the hopper occupying his boyfriend's body. Instinctively, the hopper sat up straighter.

"Anyways, now that formalities are out of the way, let's talk business," he began, speaking with a firm, steady voice. "As you've probably gathered I'm rather fond of the guy you've hopped tonight and I don't take kindly to people who try to use him, so here's what's gonna happen: I'm gonna sit right here next to you all night and chase off any guy who comes close. If you try to leave, I will follow you. After a long night of nothing, you're gonna get bored and leave us alone. Or, you could skip all that, just leave now, and maybe salvage the rest of your evening inside of someone else."

The hopper was about to argue (he'd finally managed to hop a guy like this and now he was being told to give it up?) but a second look at his host's boyfriend caused him to close his mouth. Getting involved in a situation with too many strings was a rookie hopper mistake, and he'd already made too many of those for one evening. Still, the hopper glanced down at his stolen cock which (somehow) was still hard in his jeans and he grimaced.

"So you're really just gonna make me sit here all night with a boner?" he whined, flexing his ass to make the tent in his pants jump a bit, which Trevor seemed unamused by.

"Yup," Trevor said flatly, popping his lips on the final "p" sound. He crossed his arms. "It's a nice dick and I'm in charge of keeping it safe."

"Damn it, I thought I was gonna get laid tonight!" The hopper threw his hands in the air and bowed his head, giving it a good natured shake. "But you win, I know when I'm beaten and I accept defeat." He glanced at the still full glass on the table in front of him. "Can I at least finish this drink first? It tastes so good with his mouth."

Trevor let out a puff of breath and the hopper could visibly see tension he hadn't realized was there seeping out of him as he relaxed back into his barstool- it took guts to face down a hopper, and the relief he experienced at his success was palpable. Trevor eyed the hopper, then the clock, then he shrugged.

"I suppose that's fair," he said, and then he lifted up his bottle and extended it towards his companion. "Cheers."

"Cheers!" The hopper clinked his glass against Trevor's bottle and took a small sip- he intended to stretch this one drink out for as long as possible so he could extend his stay inside of Andy's delectable body. Even if he didn't get to use it, just getting to sit there in it was a treat in itself. Trevor raised an eyebrow at him, so the hopper took another, slightly larger sip, then changed the subject.

"You're being awfully chill about this," the hopper remarked, and he eyed Trevor up and down- he hadn't thought much of the other boy at first but now that he looked closer, he could see the appeal in the boy's sweet face and delicate proportions. "You a hopper too? Nice choice of vessel, you wear the whole 'little brown twink with the heart of a bulldog thing' well. He's not bad looking either."

"Uh, thanks I guess?" Trevor said awkwardly, his cheeks suddenly a shade darker. He looked away and fiddled with the label of his cider. "But I'm just a regular human, this is my real body."

"Oh!" The hopper blinked and took a big swig of his drink to cover his surprise. "Shit, and there I was just talking about you like you're a Halloween costume. It's a hopper thing, don't take it personally." He paused. "Or do, I guess, if you like the compliments." He paused again, feeling like there was one more thing he should add. "And, uh, sorry for hopping your boyfriend I guess."

"Don't worry about it, happens all the time," Trevor chuckled bitterly, running a hand absently though his hair while the other hand gripped the counter tighter than was strictly necessary. "The fact that you're still wearing clothes and didn't try to punch me in the face and bolt off the second I showed up already puts this in the top half of the encounters the two of us have had."

The hopper whistled. "Sounds like there's a story there."

"There is," Trevor looked a bit guilty and he stared up at the ceiling, squinting his eyes shut like he was recalling a painful memory. "I was, uh, actually the first one to snatch his body with some random spell I found on the internet."

"Oh really?" The hopper eyed Trevor with a newfound sense of respect. "That's ballsy for a human but I can't say I blame you, this guy is a nice vessel. I thought for sure your boyfriend was gonna be my golden ticket for tonight, like, look at him!" The hopper lifted both of Andy's arms up into an impressive double bicep flex and gave an exaggerated smolder that drew a laugh out of Trevor. The hopper relaxed a bit and leaned back in his stool, arms crossed behind his head because he liked the way it made those same biceps bulge. Might as well enjoy them while I still have them.

"Man, if you hadn't come along I was gonna be rolling in dick tonight," he mused, running a hand over the strong line of his jaw and admiring his smooth caramel skin. "Nobody could turn this face down."

"Yeah, I'm rather fond of it," Trevor said wistfully, staring at Andy's body with a bit of a sad expression on his face, and suddenly the hopper felt a twinge of guilt he usually didn't experience after snatching someone. But then Trevor shook his head and furrowed his brow. "But you don't need to look like that to find someone- I'm living proof of that. I still managed to net Andy looking just like this."

"Shut up, you're cute," the hopper said, rolling Andy's eyes. "But seriously though, the thing about being a hopper is you get to try on all these different faces and forms and it kinda starts to give you an inferiority complex. My true body is around the same age as this guy but like, he's made out of bricks and I'm made out of straw, if you get what I'm saying. Nothing wrong with wanting a little upgrade every now and then!"

"Oh yeah?" Trevor's eyes flicked up and down the hopper's body- he knew it well, of course, but it was always a sight to see. He licked his lips. "What's your favorite part?"

The hopper blinked. "Huh?"

"I wanna what your favorite part about being in my boyfriend's body is," Trevor clarified, his fingers toying idly with the neck of his bottle of cider. For a second the hopper thought the boy might be nervous, but this seemed to be something else. "I'm not gonna judge, I was in there myself once! I just think it would be interesting to... compare notes."

"Well he's-" The hopper stumbled over his words for a second, not entirely sure if a joke was being played on him, but Trevor's big brown eyes stared at him expectantly, so he continued in earnest. The answer was easy anyways.

"He's jacked, you know?" The hopper shrugged and shook his shoulders out a bit, putting the full broadness of Andy's shoulders on display, and he tilted his head down so he could watch the way his host's hard earned physique rippled visibly beneath his clothes as he moved. With delight, he pushed out every muscle that he could until he felt so big that he was worried he might burst. "Like holy fuck, is he ripped! This guy is jacked from head to toe in the best way possible- because sometimes you go for a really muscular guy and he turns out to be some roided up gym rat so you wind up feeling like a dried out piece of beef jerky, but this guy is juicy."

He relaxed a bit and leaned back in his chair, wrapping one of his hands around one of his thick thighs and squeezing to feel the firm handful of meat giving way beneath his fingers. He shuddered- he'd taken over a good number of bodies in his time, and none of them had legs like this.

"His body has a bit of a bounce to it, you know? And I like that, I like that I can feel him move when I move." He paused, almost embarrassed about what he was going to say next, and he took a big swig from his drink for courage. His eyes remained trained on the glass as he continued, but he still felt Trevor's eyes drilling into the side of his face. As he shifted in his seat, he felt his stolen glutes roll beneath him. "But the first thing I noticed about him when I spotted him across that bar was his giant cakes and they don't disappoint, there's almost a kind of luxury in getting to sit on a pillowy ass like this."

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean..." Trevor murmured, blatantly staring down at the aforementioned butt, and one of his hands drifted absently down to his lap. The hopper raised an eyebrow. "What else do you like?"

"Is this..." The hopper glanced around the room to check that no one was listening, but then leaned in closer anyways. "Dude, is this turning you on? Are you getting off on this?"

"Maybe a little bit," Trevor shrugged, his cheeks flushing dark brown, and he hunched his shoulders defensively. "What? It's not often that the people who snatch Andy's body are interested in doing much talking. Indulge me for a minute."

The hopper was all too happy to oblige, relishing the opportunity to speak openly like this with someone else about his experience. He puffed his chest out, feeling the natural swagger that came with being in such a studly body, and continued.

"I like how hot he is. I like that people's heads turn when I walk by them, and they can't keep their eyes off of his body because even when he's dressed head to toe you can still see these big fucking muscles busting out of his clothes, like this body is to be contained."

He leaned in closer to Trevor and lowered his voice, bringing Andy's tone down to a deep rumble. "And I like just sitting here knowing that I'm probably the biggest guy in the room. You know," his hand slipped under the bar and closed around his crotch. "with this fucking thing your boy is packing... that's a hell of an ego boost."

He squeezed tight, unable to hold back a little groan as he felt what was hidden inside of his pants, and he thinks he heard Trevor make a little noise too. His face grew hot and he took another swig to cool down, savoring the taste of the golden mix, and when the hopper set his drink down on the counter he heard it clink- glancing at it, he realized that there was nothing left in the glass but ice. He reluctantly let go of Andy's swollen cock and ran his hand down his face instead, knowing now that his time was up.

Trevor cleared his throat and brought his hands back up the countertop, taking another sip of cider and then gesturing with the bottle towards the empty glass. "You finished your drink."

"Seems like it," the hopper said with a sigh, then clapped his hands together decisively. "Well, a deal's a deal, I guess I'll get out of your hair now."

Trevor's lips quirked up at the side and he glanced up at Andy's wooly hair. "Technically his hair."

"Hardy har har," the hopper droned, shooting Trevor a dry look. Unable to resist, he gave Andy's pecs one last rub (seriously, he thought, this guy has an incredible rack) and bounced them a few times for the road. "Damn, and I was really hoping to get laid tonight!" The hopper laughed and shook his head. "But it seems like you two have a good thing going and I don't wanna mess with that."

He gestured with his thumbs towards the privacy of the bathrooms. "I'd better-"

"Do it right here," Trevor interrupted him, and the hopper froze.

Now that was a risky proposition- only the most daring of hoppers would do it in the open unless they were absolutely sure they wouldn't get caught. But... the hopper glanced around and it seemed that no one was giving the two of them much attention. And if Trevor and his boyfriend had gone through this before, they were unlikely to make a fuss, which meant even less risk...

"No one is watching," Trevor egged him on. "Come on, it'd be hot."

Unable to resist the temptation to do something a bit naughty for once (well, naughtier than usual for a hopper) the hopper slipped out of his stool and rose to his feet slowly, doing his best not to draw too many eyes to himself. He took a deep breath, taking note of the way the air made his massive chest expand, and he still thought it was a damn shame that he wouldn't get to take such a lovely body out for more of a joyride. After one last survey of the room to make sure the coast was clear, he closed his eyes and-

"Wait," Trevor interrupted again, and the hopper's eyes flicked open. What more could there be? he wondered as he stared at Trevor, who looked at him with a coy expression. "Before you go, what's your name?"

"Oh!" the hopper said, a bit surprised. Asking a hopper their real name was something of a faux pas, but Trevor seemed nice so for some reason he decided to answer the question honestly. "Dante. My name's Dante."

Trevor extended his hand. "Well, it'll be nice to meet you Dante."

Dante smiled and reached out, returning the handshake, and then suddenly it was Andy's hand that Trevor was holding.

"What the hell?" Andy blinked rapidly and shook his head out as if trying to physically chase the confusion away, and his hand instinctively pulled away from Trevor's in confusion and groped blindly for support. He found the counter of the bar and grabbed onto it, lifting his head and searching the room wildly as he gathered his surroundings, but when his eyes recognized his boyfriend he instantly relaxed.

"Hey Andy," Trevor said meekly, and he didn't have time to get another word out before Andy crashed into him and enveloped him in a great big bear hug. Trevor grunted, because he was being squeezed a bit tight, but he rubbed his boyfriend's back to comfort him anyways- Andy was always a bit clingy with his boyfriend after regaining control of his body, finding that the other boy's presence helped him to feel grounded in himself once more. (And Trevor needed a bit of reassurance as well sometimes.)

"Shit, Trev," the bigger boy groaned, his face buried in the wavy hair atop Trevor's head. He breathed in the familiar scent and focused on that instead of his disorientation. "Did I let it happen again?"

"You did get snatched," Trevor gave two firm claps on Andy's back (the sign that he was running out of air) and Andy released him, pulling back to gaze into his partner's eyes, and Trevor smiled at him reassuringly. "But everything is okay now. Nothing happened."

Unnoticed by the two lovebirds, a Dante was sitting in the stool that had formerly hosted Andy's body and watching the tender proceedings with mild interest. He had to admit that the pair made for a very cute couple, which made him feel he'd made the right choice in letting Andy go... but that didn't make his balls any less blue after a night of striking out, and seeing two hot young college boys getting physical right in front of him wasn't getting his mood up in the right way.

Feeling a bit dejected all of the sudden, Dante snatched up the glass that he had been drinking from before and upended it to his lips, letting the last few drops of alcoholic concoction slide into his mouth. He winced at the bitter taste.

"Shit, he was right," he said out loud. "It's only good with his tongue."

Trevor glanced over at the visitor and his eyes widened in surprise at the sight of what Dante looked like in his real body- a black man with skin a few shades darker than Andy's who seemed just a few years older than the boy as well, an average build and median in height between Andy and Trevor.

He was, Trevor noted, not unpleasant to look at.

"Andy, this is Dante," Trevor directed his boyfriend's attention towards the hopper, who gave Andy a nod. Andy nodded back. "He hopped you earlier tonight but he's very graciously decided to step out of you before he could cause any trouble."

"Really?" Andy breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at Dante. "Thanks man, that's really cool of you."

Dante sniffed and gave a casual shrug but Andy, apparently unsatisfied with a simple verbal thanks, stepped closer to Dante. For a moment the hopper was worried he was about to get clocked, but Andy just stuck his hands out and pulled the other man in for a firm bro-hug, and the two clapped each other on the back.

(Dante let his hands linger for a moment on the other boy's back and damn, his body felt just as good from the outside. Maybe he should have tried harder to fuck someone using it.)

"Don't worry man, it's nothing," he said after they'd pulled apart, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Always down to help a guy out."

"Sick t-shirt by the way," Andy's eyes flicked down to the Trials of Osiris top that Dante had picked out for the evening, and he gave a nod of approval. "You game?"

"More than I should," Dante admitted, and Andy let out a big laugh. Dante gave a little snort and rolled his eyes. "Dead game."

"Dead game," Andy repeated, and Trevor looked a little bit lost but smiled and nodded anyways.

"This is my good luck shirt," Dante explained, feeling a bit more at ease around the duo now that he knew they didn't bare him any ill-will. "It doesn't really matter what I wear when I go out because I- well, you know, I'm gonna be wearing whatever my host was wearing." He coughed awkwardly. "So I like to wear this one."

"Seems like you two are hitting it off, that's cute," Trevor glanced between the two of them with a coy look on his face. He leaned over and draped himself across Andy's shoulder, his smaller frame fitting nicely onto his boyfriend's sizeable bulk, and he rested his chin by Andy's ear. "Hey, Andy, you know how we went out tonight so we could find a guy that we could, you know..." his voice trailed off. "Try that thing with?"

Andy tilted his head to the side and looked bewildered for a moment. "Yeah? So you still wanna find someone to have a-" Then the switch flicked in his head and he perked up. "Oh! With him?"

He turned to face Dante and looked the young man up and down, and Dante shuffled uncomfortably- he was a hopper, he wasn't used to having his real body looked at like this. But apparently Andy liked what he saw because he placed a hand on Trevor's shoulder and squeezed tight. "Yeah, yeah I'd be down for that."

Dante glanced between the couple, who were both eyeing him up in a strange way, and his eyebrow raised. "What are you guys talking about?"

"You know how you wanted to get laid tonight?" Trevor asked, squeezing in closer to his boyfriend and tracing one finger against his chest in a motion that landed somewhere between casual seductive. He looked at Dante expectantly. "What if that was still an option?"

#male possession #Series: Security #Idk why this is 5k words with a three act structure #didn't go into it with super much of a plan and was caught off guard by the ending

[weebsinstash]

could we get some valentino x male reader pls?

Bruh I've been actually on Valentino x male/intersex male Reader so hard lately (and I don't mention intersex for like fetish reasons but. I don't know what having a dick feels like and sometimes I'm like "well what if boy but. Vagine" and, shut up its my gender expression power fantasy, maybe I wanna have muscles and broad shoulders, leave me alone 💀)

Right off the top of my head, I've had ideas recently for:

-boy band lead vocalist! male Reader! Just. Ok. Imagine Reader and Angel having kind of a beef with each other and at some point it becomes a sort of "oh yeah, well I can XYZ better than you" kind of competition amd Angel says some shit like "you wouldn't know what it takes to come out here and strut for a bunch of perverts who look at you like you're a piece of meat" and you just hit him with some shit like "bitch I LITERALLY sucked FIVE DICKS so I could headline for the Superbowl, you fucking LOSER, you dont know ACTUAL music, i was AN ARTIST" and you start belting out something sexy with a choreographed dance that is clearly professional level skill

-male Reader with a little sister and you protect her from Valentino by offering to take her place. You've never sucked a single dick in your life and hell you might not even be gay but Valentino has your baby sister's life in his hands and, you've got to protect HER if not yourself

- ughhhhhh I'm probably gonna make this it's own post too but I've been ON my "unwilling red string soulmate" personal indulgence lately and. Just. Valentino who sees his red string appear and OBVIOUSLY he's gotta RUN to find his boo and he finds you and immediately thinks you're the most precious adorable sexy little thing, BUT. You just. Look straight at him and how HUGE he is and reply "i-im not... actually into men 😳" which is a LIE of course and, here's Valentino thinking, AW, his poor little baby gay! You've never had a boyfriend or gone to any clubs? TRAGIC! But also perfect because he is just TICKLED watching you get flustered beyond belief! So cute!

-I feel like. He would try and give you boners on purpose and think it's the cutest most erotic thing. He's got you sitting next to him and you're filled with liquor and he starts REALLY laying on the flirting, maybe even... places his palm on your upper thigh and BOOM. Hard as a rock and you can't even hide it because he makes you wear tight pants all the time. He's just over there, "what's going on amorcito? :3c you feeling a little hot under the collar?" as if he didn't just spend like 15 minutes talking about how he'd love to get you on your back and touch EVERY INCH of you, how he'd love to TASTE you--

-this is gender neutral but, convinced he eventually forces you to do some of those sexy pin-ups with him and one day you're walking around Vee Tower and he just has that shit HANGING UP. Poster You is just braced against his chest looking at the camera all demure and vulnerable while he's like. Got his guns out looking all tough like "mess with my pookie and you're through" and of course he makes you do. Sexy ones. Matching lingerie?

-I think of forced feminization with a male Reader sometimes actually. Like you wear boxy unflattering shit on purpose and one day Vals just like "you've got a small waist for a guy" and is checking you over. It starts off small. He starts wanting to style you. Then he wants you to update your skincare routine. Which is all fine right? But then he starts pushing his personal tastes. You've got such nice muscular thighs... which is why you would look so nice in some fishnets. He'd love to see your cute little butt in a thong while you cover your dick with your hands in MAJOR EMBARRASSMENT. You've got such pretty eyes; can Daddy put some mascara on you?

Valentino straight up punishing you by dressing you in full lingerie, your ass is in garters, heels, full glam makeup, and forcing you to pose for some cell phone pics

-still over here just mentally 🤌🤌🤌 at the idea of Valentino taking male Reader out with him and Angel and you've got matching outfits. You and Angel are in little skimpy, color matching fits while he's in a suit and gold chain, something that makes him feel powerful while he shows off his favorite toys

-I rllllly like the idea of like, a male Reader who is a honeypot assassin. You can be extremely charismatic and charming and seductive but it's all a front; you're an S tier actor and you take your targets down when they least expect it. The Vees are all at the club and some upstart wannabe new Overlord decides to attack and you just JOHN WICK THAT SHIT. Picture the Vees just sitting there, everything is peaceful, suddenly, in a flash, you move your serving tray in front of Valentino just in time to block a bullet. All three Vees are like wtf? How did you even know? What's going on? You proceed to totally wreck shit improvising weapons as the attacker and his goons charge forth and you even wind up grabbing a whip from a nearby dancer and using it as a WEAPON WEAPON and that shit looks like it HURTS. You're out here "Michelle Pfeiffer taking out 5 mannequin heads in one take"ing that shit. You're cutting people IN HALF (because having hell powers is cool leave me alone)

-i like the idea of male Reader who was a professional male model and a bit of a tailor himself, like a real kind of posh art student kind of type. You're with Valentino and Velvette notices how impeccably you're dressed and asks you where you bought it, you just, not so humbly brush yourself off. "Oh no, I made this myself. Nothing down here really fit my tastes" and suddenly you're like, custom designing wardrobes for ALL the Vees

Honestly just "Reader in XYZ Profession is exploited by Val/the Vees for their skills" is an idea I've had a lot. You have a hobby in baking so they always want food from you. You used to cook drugs so they make you work for them. You're a polyglot so youre taken along on business meetings to make sure none of the Vees business partners are planning shit in front of them. Like. Imagine just being the bitch who sits in the corner of the meeting room and shoots project/product ideas at them and it's like ACTUALLY successful and they're totally receptive and like you. You're just "Hey Valentino, what if you and Velvette did a collab on a waterproof mascara where you shot a porno in one continuous take so you can show the actor putting on the mascara, setting it down on the vanity, and then they start choking on a dick and their mascara doesn't run" like. They love you. Vox is just like "so, any new ideas today" and you're just using your VoxTek Premium Exclusive Black Card to cut coke into lines, "*snooooooort* uhhhhh.... I got some ideas for some stupid little mobile games you can put tons of micro transactions in? Like just before i died there was this one game that was getting really popular but it had a lot missing, we could-" and they could all just kiss you

-on God, Fs in the chat for virgin male Readers who have Valentino finally pop that cherry. I feel like he'd find out you've never had so much as fingers in your ass and within that WEEK you're being dosed with love potion and taking him balls deep

-Val's the kinda yandere where he tells you you're safe being closeted with him, he'll keep your secret, he'll let you stay on the downlow, but one day he so much as ASSUMES disrespect from you and he's immediately letting everyone know exactly who you belong you. You're arguing with him and you go completely silent and cross your arms or some shit and he just takes a hit from his cigarette, "you know you looked a lot more handsome when you were screaming on my cock the other night" and outs you just like that, either as gay or as fucking him or both. Imagine Angel not knowing you slept with Val and he immediately gives you this hurt expression BECAUSE HE TOTALLY DOESNT HAVE A THING FOR YOU TOO

-Valentino would absolutely make male Reader and Angel fuck while he watches and or films it, and also tbh I feeeeeeeel like. Angel would be ok with trans or intersex men tbh? Idk. It's not clear exactly what his taste in men is? He doesn't mind when men are shorter than him, so, like, is he a switch? He gives huge switch energy and let's face it, that's one TALL twink. I mean look at him holding Charlie! He's strong for his size too! Pole dancing takes a lot of upper body strength!

Oh no... not me suddenly thinking about a scarier yandere angel dust who is a lot stronger than you thought... Yandere Angel Dust who corners you and takes you completely by surprise and you get a GUTTING display of just how strong his arms actually are. You're thinking "oh he's just some lanky bottom twink, he couldnt overpower me, in fact I'm scared i might hurt him, he's delicate" but like HONEY HE CAN SUPPORT HIS ENTIRE BODY WEIGHT BY JUST HIS ARMS OR THIGHS. He's a FIT twink.

-ive said it before but uh once Angel Has It Bad Enough, like Bad Bad Bad, he's over here, "oh Daddy, I'm just soOoOo scared uxu ya know my buddy Reader, that one ya think is cute? Well, he was drinkin' earlier and he mentioned wanting to move FAR away and he wouldn't tell me WHERE 🥺 I'm just so worried he won't be able to take care of himself, you know, what, with all that trauma about his FATHER and-- oh he didn't tell you? He's really vulnerable to BIG. SCARY MEN and im wooooorrrrrriiiied, what if he gets hurt, talk to him Daddy PleeeeEEeEease? 🥺" like. He might still hate Val's fucking guts but he's high on coke and watching Valentino put some real inches in you and he's having the most explosive guilt-filled nut of his entire afterlife

-im sorry I'm just picturing Reader being like "I'm not fucking gay, fuck off, leave me alone" and Velvette just not even looking up from her phone, "I saw you using that $200 hand cream. You're so deep in the closet you're finding Christmas presents"

"I'm not fucking gay" "amorcito I've seen the pants you like to wear. No straight men wears those"

"I told you guys I'm not into men!!" "That's what I thought too until I met Al- VAL! Until I met VAL! [OuO']"

Then one night you're off work and none of the Vees or even Angel know where you're at and they wind up in a club and, there you are, getting absolutely fucking wasted, on top of one of the counters, you know those clubs that have random pokes everywhere, and you're dancing, you're getting real zesty with it, you're dropping your ass, and here's Valentino jumping to his feet pointing a finger, "so you DO know how to pole dance!!!" and your fate is sealed from there on in 💀💀💀

#yandsre hazbin hotel #hh #yandere hellaverse #yandere x reader #sinprompts

[male-fanfics-for-days]

Check-ups Can be Rough

Arthur Morgan X Male Reader

A/n: A little fanfic idea I had while doing laundry, please don't ask why I am just really gay for this cowboy.

Warning: a slight sexual theme towards the end

Some of the men in camp had just gotten back from a decent-sized robbery, Arthur and you included in that group. Now in camp, you were quick off your horse and ushering the men into your medical tent to be checked before they were allowed to go about the rest of the day.

You were the camp's actual doctor, as helpful as Reverend Swanson's medicines could be in the harder situations, you were actually trained in what you did by professionals. Those same professionals taught you how to use a gun, specifically long-ranged weapons, you favoring the sniper. It was actually your attempted killing of Dutch van der Linde that brought you into the gang.

Charles went into the tent with you first, as he was usually the one in first if no one was obviously hurt. He wasn't ashamed to get checked over by the doctor, other men in camp thought going to you was a slight show of weakness.

After Charles was Javier, then John, a stubborn Bill Williamson, then Micah

Arthur would have gone after Charles but Dutch wanted to speak with him just as he had gotten back. Never one to half-ass things, you had Arthur promise to come to visit the medical tent after he was done, even if you gave him a quick once-over to see he was fine.

So, after talking with Dutch, he made his way over to your tent. Most times your tent flaps were closed when checking over someone, but you had assessed that none of them were hurt enough to need the privacy of a closed area. This meant Arthur could see you looking over Micah as he walked up.

He stayed quiet outside the tent, crossing his arms and leaning against one of the poles of the tent fixed to the ground, simply watching you work.

Arthur wasn't too ashamed to admit he was impressed by you. You worked in an efficiency he could only dream of achieving, always on point with everything you do but especially your shots. He's seen you first hand down men 100 meters away, and that was with a bow!

Then came your medical work. You never left anything to chance, not a cut, bruise, cough, or sneeze that happened in camp you didn't hear and check on. It was seen as overbearing and unnecessary to some, but Arthur knew that this carefulness came from a good heart.

You'd confided in him about how you were taught. Sure, you had read some books, but you were mostly learning by action. You saw firsthand how even the smallest cut could kill a man by infection, that an unassuming bruise of the skin could lead to amputation because of an ignored issue.

You knew you could be a bit too much sometimes, but after coming to care about (almost) everyone in camp, their wellbeing was on your mind constantly.

He watched you switch between looking over Micah's physical form to listening to his breathing and his heartbeat, which made the man swat your hands away.

"Alright alright, we're done here." He stands from the chair you had everyone sit in, glaring at your hands. "I ain't need to be fussed over anymore, I'm fine."

"That is for me to determine, Mr. Bell." You grit your teeth at him, putting away your stethoscope, pushing on his shoulders to sit him back down.

"Everyone gets the same checkups, and I just had to dig a 3-day-old bullet out of your shoulder."

"And I'm telling you, Doctor," Micah spits out in mockery. "I'm fine."

Micah goes to push you off him, but you shove him into the chair quickly. You put your knee on his chest, forcing the chair to lean back and hit the table behind it. Micah flailed for a moment but went still when you just as quickly brandished a small nearby scalpel (still clearly covered in Micah's blood from getting the bullet out) and put it close to his throat.

"Now, Mister Bell," You speak lowly, your eyes going dark as you lean in closer to him.

"I am a doctor, the only one here, in fact. You may not like it, but I'm the only one who can keep you alive in this camp, and if I see fit? I could turn a blind eye to your injuries."

Despite being pinned in a chair, leaning back on a table, and unable to sit up, Micah chuckles darkly.

"You ain't got the nerve." His voice dripped with venom. " The only kills you've gotten were from people dumb enough not to look in the trees, you monkey. Even today, you were hiding away and shootin' from afar, too afraid to fight like a real man."

"A real man, you say?" You scoff, leaning back and letting Micah's chair fall back to the ground as you back away.

You turn from him to the table on the other side of the tent, and having thought he won, Micah smirks.

Then, yelps and flinches as a much bigger knife than a scalpel embeds itself into the chair, right in the space between his legs and extremely close to his nethers.

Micah looks at the blade in shock then turns his head up to look back up at you, still standing in the motion of throwing it. A dark look in your eyes as you sigh through your nose.

"I'll tell you right now, Micah Bell, as good as I am with a rifle?" You point to his crotch. "I'm even better with a blade."

Looking back down, Micah sees that the blade was so close to his crotch and so sharp, that it sliced a thin hole right through it. While looking at the knife he doesn't see you walk over and pull it out of the chair's wood, swiping it near his face so close that it took a few strands of hair with it.

You take a cloth off your belt and wipe the blade down as if it being close to Micah was enough to dirty it. You turn your back to him once more and wave the blade out, dismissing him.

"Now get the fuck out of my tent."

Micah sat for a moment in stunned silence, as if he didn't expect you to openly threaten him within earshot of others. But then he huffs, standing quickly and stomping out of the tent, pushing past Arthur even despite having enough space to leave.

Arthur had watched all of that happen with so much focus, he only just noticed after Micah had left that his eyes were dry from leaving them wide open the whole time.

He wasn't sure why, but his heart was racing and his face felt hotter with every passing moment as he replayed what happen in his head. The way you silenced Micah, the way you held the blade, the way you stood, the way you talked. Everything about what happened made Arthur feel... something.

"Arthur," you called out, snapping him out of his thoughts as he looks at you.

You have a growing grin on your face as you clean your hands off in a bucket of water.

"Looking to camp in my workspace?"

Arthur gives you a confused look as you chuckle a bit and point down at his pants, a mischievous look in your eye.

"With your tent pitched I assumed you'd be staying awhile."

Horrified, Arthur looks down to see that, indeed... he had a very visible bulge in his pants. He gave an awkward cough, taking off his hat to cover himself, all the while you laughed.

If he wasn't red and hot in the face before, he sure as hell was now, your laughing at him sure didn't help.

"Alright, big boy, let's get you checked out quickly so you can deal with that in private."

With the realization of some feelings he had towards you, he also came to the conclusion that this was by far the most embarrassing medical checkup he's ever had.

#arthur morgan x male reader #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x male reader #rdr2 arthur morgan #x reader #x male reader #red dead redemption fanfic #character x you

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

Yet another average day in Family Video:

"Hey. Remember when you said that you'd totally fuck Jonathan."

"When...? Oh, yeah. What the fuck that was literally a month ago why are you mentioning that now?"

"Because that was the same conversation we decided to get the matching tramp stamps. And trying to hide those from my parents is a literal pain in the ass. Pun fully intended. I can't even sit straight and-"

"I'd say you can't do anything straight"

"Not like I can do anything str- fuck you"

Steve swaggers to the back and takes out the whiteboard they purchased together - on ROBIN'S SUGGESTION may he add.

"Can't believe you're losing in your own game. About bad jokes. And being gay. Which are basically your two only personality traits."

Robin's side is embarrassingly empty. He sees it as cosmic karma for her you-suck-game during their scoops ahoy era.

"Alright mister little bitch"

"And yet, this little bitch is beating you in your own game"

Robin shows him the finger. Steve bites the finger because he is a little shit and things like boundaries and personal space have already lost all meaning between the two of them.

In this moment the front doors open. The elderly man takes one look at the scene before him and leaves without a word.

"Where did the Jonathan thing come from?"

"Dunno. I was bored. Thought it'd be funny to see you go through a gay crisis."

"Not much of a crisis if I already admitted to it."

"You're no fun."

"Really? That was not what my dad said three months ago. According to him I am a fucking joke."

"Coming from Harrington Senior that's honestly a compliment"

"Please remind me of that the next time I radio you at 3 am. Who is on tape duty?"

"I did it last time."

"Alright" Steve nods towards the small pile of romcoms they have pointedly not been reshelving for the last half an hour. "Enjoy your alone time in the romance section."

"Do you think it would be an invasion of privacy if we checked who returned all that? It was either an epic girls night of an awful breakup." Her voice gets fainter as she moves to the back of the store.

"Nah. We're in the land of the free or whatever. Wait, let me do it"

"You're only saying that so you can procrastinate asshole"

"Does that mean you don't want to know who took them? Because I promise you, you really really do."

"Don't ask if you already know the answer dingus"

"Guess"

"Ummm....power bottom."

"What?"

"Like with Jonathan. Would you rather he call the shots or the other way around?"

She makes a series of incomprehensible movements that are probably supposed to represent intercourse between two men.

"This is the reason god made you a lesbian"

"And thank him for that. Amen."

"Why are you so obsessed with Jonathan anyway."

"You're deflecting"

"Yeah sure, I am deflecting. C'mon, Buckley. Resume or later?"

"Who was the one who took all the romcoms?"

"If I tell you, will you tell me what's really going on?"

"Depends on your answer."

"I thought you weren't interested in my sex life? Every time-"

In this moment the door opens again. Two girls come in, arm in arm. One is wearing a look that can only be described as disgust, the other is clearly trying to hold in laughter with moderate success.

Over the course of many painful months of customer service (plus surviving an interrogation by the actual Russian secret service) Steve and Robin have developed the ability to hold entire conversations without speaking a single word. It is a very neat talent to have when they want to make fun of someone right in front of them. It is less neat when he is the target.

Robin raises her brows. C'mon dingus, tell these random ass girls about your sex life since you're so proud of it.

Steve frowns in response. Yeah, sure Mrs. Never Even Had A First Kiss.

Robin narrows her eyes. I did have a first kiss. Even if it was absolutely horrible.

Steve puts on his most insufferable expression. You yourself said that it doesn't count. No need to be so jealous Buckley.

Robin rolls her eyes. Alright, I want to see you trying to find a-

"Do you have ET?", Robin doesn't say because, oh yeah, they've got actual customers.

Steve solemnly informs them that ET is current out of stock, but that it should be returned in two days. Robin somehow manages to force her last two movies upon them. They leave with a dazed look on their face that Steve can relate to. Sometimes Robin will start talking and the next thing you know you have a tramp stamp.

"Tommy Hagan"

Robin looks absolutely disgusted. "Tommy Hagan?! You would kiss Tommy Hagan? And then you have the audacity to make fun of my taste in women?!"

"First of all: me and Hagan? Been there done that." Robin looks as if her entire worldview was just flipped upside down. "Second: probably not, he uses a bit too much tongue for my liking. I mean that Tommy Hagan was the one who rented all the romcoms"

Robin takes a moment to process this information. Then she dramatically falls to the floor and squirms around in laughter like a bug on its back trying to get up again. Truly a drama kid through and through.

"And thirdly: for your information, I super could make out with Jonathan Byers. Unlike you, I've got game"

"You don't mean gay-me?"

Steve rolls his eyes and takes out the whiteboard again. He is still in the lead.

"And also, excuse you, I totally could make out with Nancy if I wanted to, okay?! I'm just not a homewrecker unlike some other people"

"Excuse me? I was the one who was cheated on?!"

"I'm insulting your taste, dingus"

"Rich coming from you, since we apparently share the same one"

For a moment she looks confused. Then she thinks back to what she said. Steve can pinpoint the exact moment she realizes it.

"Is this the reason you want me to be into Jonathan so bad? Because you're into Nancy?" Steve feels like a smug cat when her entire upper body grows red.

"Shut up she's just pretty okay?!"

"And badass. Don't forget badass."

"Oh my god I know. Ever since I saw her shooting I haven't been able to get her out of my mind."

"Right?! And as if that isn't enough, she has to go and be smart too! Like, c'mon, she has to have some faults. Some downsides. Nobody is that prefect!"

"Oh my god I know! And-"

They continue like that for a while. Time runs away from them and suddenly Hellfire Club is over and Steve's kids (minus Max, he notes with a heavy heart) are barging into the place as if they own it, for no reason other than to be absolute menaces.

"And like. Robin. She was so hot in that moment. I swear to-"

"Who are you talking about?". Steve is used to Dustin being a rude little shit and automatically answers without even thinking about it. "Nancy."

He realizes his mistake too late. He looks up. Mike's eyes are wide in horror. "I hate you so fucking much" he says before turning around and leaving.

Robin sighs. "I guess that is the downside."

-> the tramp stamp conversation

-> gatekeeping 101

-> breaking out of a heteronormative mindset

#an average day in family video #btw the reason mike is so mad #is bc he has a crush on steve that he refuses to acknowledge<3 #and yes i am on the steve carol and tommy had a weird lowkey toxic and obsessive relationship with each other #robin buckley #steve harrington #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #stonathan #stobin #ronance #stranger things drabble #stranger things #platonic soulmates #platonic with a capital p #pen. #tommy hagan #stancy #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction

[corpsekittin]

Helping A Bro Out

Hunter and Jake were getting really annoyed by just how nerdy, faggy and weak their little bro was so they decided they needed to do something about it. They were REAL men , but Arthur was an embarrassment to them. He was a short, skinny blond twink nerd. They needed a plan of action that would make him into the man he should be... A strong, confident stud jock bro who could fuck any woman he wanted.

They tried to force Arthur into working out a couple days ago and they tried to hook him up with some chicks they knew despite knowing him to be gay, which caused them to have a huge fight and they haven’t talked much since.

A few days later Arthur heard a knock on his bedroom door and opened it to see his brothers.

"Hey, bro," said Hunter, holding out a small box that looked like it probably had clothes in it. "We're here to apologize for the other day”

Arthur smiled at them both and took the box from Hunter's hand. He then closed the door behind him as he opened it up. Inside was a shirt of his favorite superhero.

He texted them and thanked them both for the gift and put the shirt on. As he did this, he felt himself wanting to work out for some reason, despite him hating getting sweaty.

He ran out to his brothers as they were about to set off for the gym. They grinned as he approached, knowing what he was about to ask. “Hey can I come with you,” Arthur asked. The pair obliged, pretending to show amazement at this.

Once inside the gym, he found himself wanting to lift more weights than he ever had before and to work out. He went over to the stack machine to begin his work out. As he was working out, his changes started to progress further. Arthan felt his muscles begin to grow in size and his shirt began to become looser and smaller. Athan’s pecs bubble up and jut out with thick hard muscle, his abs grew thick and tight and his legs grew longer and became hunks of thick meat.

His face was also changing, becoming recognizable. When he saw glimpses of it in the mirror, he only saw the face of some masculine stud.

After he finished his workout, he looked at himself and saw just how much he had physically changed and the fact that at some point he had entirely lost his shirt. He looked around to see where it could’ve gone. He felt quite embarrassed at being half naked in the gym, as he hadn’t been like this before.

Hunter saw his bro was clearly uncomfortable being shirtless, so he pulled off his own and tossed it to him, telling him to put it on and to stop being a wuss about showing his muscles off.

When Athan put on his older bro’s shirt, he felt his muscles explode to even more massive proportions. His blond hair grew to a dark brown color and his face grew facial hair on it. He felt his mind and memories alter and change. Ethan suddenly remembered playing sports growing up, joining the football team just like his older bros had done, getting any chick he wanted, bullying the nerds and the fags and wanting to become a professional bodybuilder.

Ethan turned around to see a hot buxom woman checking him out and he walked up to her.

Hunter and Jake eagerly watched as their little bro wooed her back to the men’s room. As he opened the door he caught them and winked before falling in behind her. The pair bumped fists and grinned as their little bro was just how they wanted.

#gay to straight #nerd to jock #homophobic

[maxislvt]

Silent Night

Summary: Even rock stars get caught up in the holiday rush.

Warnings: R being gay, Wanda being a mommy, me projecting a tiny bit but that's what y'all are here for!

A/N: No, I am not addicted to popstar Wanda at all!! (I'm lying)

Event Masterlist

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

The Christmas rush was not something to be ignored, especially if you were a musician. Where most people only had to start worrying around mid-November, you were forced to start all the way in October. Halloween had come and gone, but you were on crunch time in your studio.

Despite the weeks-long headstart, you had nothing ready to spark holiday cheer. You did technically have some songs. Several fully completed songs. It was just that none of them satisfied you. The Thunderbolts was a band filled with magnificently talented people. Your music had to be perfect. You didn't care if that meant you spent long hours in your studio. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, did care. Wanda was a festive woman and refused to celebrate the holiday without you.

Originally, you two had compromised. You'd do all your lyric writing at home and then spend a few hours at your studio mixing and sampling as needed. Regardless of what you did, you had to be done by 6 pm and spend the rest of the night at home with Wanda. The lack of your familiar hums and empty driveway upon her return home told Wanda you hadn't kept your end of the deal. One slightly annoying drive later, her suspicion had been confirmed.

"I know the fingerprint lock on the outside is to keep people from getting in, but I didn't know it stopped you from getting out."

Wanda's voice made you stop in your tracks. For a moment, you just sat there. There was no way it had been past 6 o’clock. You left the house at 12 that evening and only wrote about 12 lines you were proud of. Checking your phone to see it was 9:46 pm was a major blow to your confidence. "I, uh, I thought I had another hour?" The statement sounded more like a question. Mostly because you were genuinely confused. You slowly turned around in your chair. "I'm sorry, I think I just lost track of time. I —"

Wanda cupped your checks and slowly examined your face. "Baby, how long have you been here? You look like you haven't slept in days." The bags under your eyes were genetic, but they somehow looked heavier. The once perfectly soft skin on your lips had been chewed and rubbed raw. She pulled you close and forced you to rest your head on her stomach. This wasn't the first time Wanda watched you overwork yourself, but she was happy to be the one to pull you out of your habits. "Why don't we go home and rest up for a bit? I brought back some of that hot chocolate you like."

Normally, the promise of good hot chocolate and cuddles would be enough to get you to do anything, but you were far too stressed. You shook your head and pulled away. "I can't, I gotta finish at least one of these songs before we go home." Pulling away from Wanda's touch was near impossible, but you forced yourself to do it anyway. "Just give me another hour, I promise I'll be done."

Wanda sighed. This was clearly important to you and dragging you away from your studio wouldn't do any good. She’d lost count of how many times you’d snuck out to work on music. "Fine, but I have to help and you have to sit in my lap." She giggled at the embarrassed face you made. "It's either that or I take you home and wrap you up in blankets like a newborn cat."

You huffed in disapproval but stood up and allowed Wanda to sit in your chair. It was hard to tell what you were feeling exactly. Either stress had entirely consumed you or you were falling into Wanda's trap. Part of you hoped it was the second option. "I wrote a bunch of stuff earlier, but these are the only complete songs I have." You opened some files on your laptop. "Only two have music behind them right now."

Wanda nodded along as you spoke. Her hand slipped underneath your shirt and rubbed small circles on the skin of your stomach. Sure, Wanda had promised you an hour but she was going to get you home as fast as she could. "Lemme hear the two with music, we can work on the 3rd one last." She put on the headphones attached to your laptop. She tentatively listened to the song as she rocked you side to side in her lap. "This is beautiful, baby! Why don't you like it?"

A heavy yawn fell from your lips. "It just doesn't sound festive enough! I feel like I'm not hitting these notes right." Staying awake in Wanda's grasp was an endless uphill climb. Keeping your will to fight was even harder. "I was thinking of giving it to someone else, but I don't wanna let it go."

"We can make a duet." Wanda smiled when you excitedly turned around towards her. "Tamper with the notes a bit and split up the lyrics and we'll have our first song together." She peppered your excited face with kisses. "We can record it next weekend and then the company can release it on Christmas day if you want. "

The longer Wanda kissed you, the harder it was to ignore that familiar warm buzz underneath your skin. Sleep was calling your name, but you wouldn't give in unless Wanda prompted you to do so. "That's fine with me…just highlight the parts you wanna sing." Your eyelids felt heavier than the metal you made a living singing. Your highlighting and annotating were so hard to read, Wanda had to guide your head through the rest of it. You didn't even register the fact Wanda moved on to the other song until you saw a new file opened. "Wait, I don't remember…"

Wanda hummed softly. "Hey, I think you've done enough for today. Why don't we head home?" Her arms wrapped around your stomach, pulling you impossibly closer. She had you wrapped around her fingers. There was no way you'd say no to her now. "We can watch that reindeer musical you like so much. Then I can wrap you up in your favorite blankets. Doesn't that sound nice?"

That was it. You had fallen under another one of Wanda's magical spells. "You mean the one about Rudolph and the dentist elf?" The confirmation was all you needed. "Okay, I'm ready to go home now."

Wanda gave you another kiss before letting you stand up. "Don't worry about your car, I'll have someone come pick it up in the morning."

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

The promise of a movie night and hot chocolate had seemingly reinvigorated you. Though you were hesitant and sluggish when leaving your studio, you couldn't sit still during the car ride. Wanda thought it was adorable.

"How did you get the shavings so small? Mine are all big and chunky." The lack of a break was still clearly affecting your performance a bit. Cooking had always been Wanda's thing. You were always her little lab rat or dish cleaner, never an assistant. Even if you were a mess in the kitchen, you were proud of yourself for making your fancy hot chocolate without much help.

Wanda giggled as she took a sip from her mug. "I told you to use the other side of the grater." Being famous came with its perks, but nothing would ever top having you all to herself. To Wanda, you were perfect. All your odd preferences and little quirks only added to said perfection. "Y'know, I think I might have my own little Rudolph just like Santa does."

You turned your head around so fast, you got whipped cream on your nose. "Really? Wait, did you buy the reindeer antler for Sparky!?"

Wanda laughed and shook her head. "No, I just meant you." She playfully licked the cream off your nose. "Every time I give you a compliment, you hop around repeating it for days." She placed her mug on the nightstand. "I'm cute! I'm cute! She thinks I'm cute," Wanda said, recreating the scene that had played just a few minutes ago.

You huffed your chest out in defense. "I don't sound like that! If anyone does, it's you…or maybe Bucky, he's been a real simp these past few weeks."

"Oh no, don't bring your little friends into this! You wrote an entire EP after I started publicly calling you my partner, lord knows what you'll do when we get married." Wanda turned away to take another sip of her hot chocolate. When she turned back, she was met with the cutest puppy dog eyes she'd ever seen.

"You wanna marry me?"

Wanda could only laugh. "Of course, I wanna marry you! You're too perfect to slip through my fingers." She cupped your face and kissed you on the lips. "Also, this totally proves my point."

#pvntherz #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fanfic #pop star!wanda #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda fluff #panther's 12 days of christmas

[orangepanic]

I'm probably going to regret this later.

I had a good friend say to me recently that she's not reading any more books by white men. Clearly she was looking for congratulations. Instead, all I could feel was sadness.

To me, the point of pushing for diversity and representation in media is exactly that. Diversity, and not just to put points on a scoreboard or get kudos from your socially-minded friends but because you actually care about broadening your mind. For too long, too few people's perspectives and experiences have been overrepresented in history and popular culture, which limits our thinking and perpetuates the kinds of marginalization and discrimination that hurt society as a whole. We need to actively, aggressively correct that. But to me that means a process that is additive, not subtractive.

Add books to your reading list by people from different backgrounds and cultures, or that center characters who aren't like you. And "aren't like you" should be broad. Read a different genre than you'd normally pick up. Read about somebody older or younger than you, someone whose brain works differently, or someone who grew up in a different part of the country, even if they might look like you on the outside. Do this, but don't only do this to the point that reading becomes a chore or a performative action, or to the point where you're now cutting out other perspectives entirely. I hear so many sad stories these days about how little people read, and I think part of that is because there's been a push for reading as a requirement, as education, and that only certain kinds of books are okay to read because they contribute to this goal. That's such crap. Read what you want because it is fun! But then also add to that experience with new, different books. You never know what else you might like (looking at you, native Hawaiian vampire story). Growing your reading pie isn't about "no more of this" but "yes, more of that."

And the same can be said for fandom. Fandom has always been as space for people to explore different kinds of characterizations and relationships that aren't heavily reflected in popular culture. That's largely why we have transformative works. But lately I see this almost puritanical push in fandom for everything to check certain boxes when the whole point of fandom and fan creations is to make shit up. Don't see enough hairy-chested mlm werewolves on screen? Draw your favs as hairy gay werewolves who kiss! And if you've never thought about your OTP as werewolves, be open-minded enough to explore it, or to read someone else exploring it just to see how it is and stretch your brain a bit. Maybe you'll like it, or learn about werewolves. Maybe you'll hate it. Either way, support each other.

And like the books, this process should be additive. Push yourself to be open to more ships and interpretations of characters and canon. Also, curate your fandom experience, and if you explore something and it isn't for you, that's okay. It's for somebody else. And the fact that it contains no werewolves doesn't make it wrong, or boring, or toxic, or anti-werewolf, or something you need to tell the creator not to make anymore because you want to be seen in online spaces as coming out against what is unpopular so that you, by reflection, will look popular. If you do this you're looking for the fandom equivalent of kudos for saying you'll never read a book by a white man, leaving everything from Neil Gaiman to Tolkien on the table and thinking that makes you look progressive instead of sad and small and like you're trying desperately to sit at the right table in middle school. In short, fandom isn't a zero sum game any more than reading is. And real diversity in fandom means adding in the content and perspectives and characters we're missing, both on and off-screen, (and not just the ones you like, but the ones you might not) as well as not weeding out the ones that we already have. We can have more together, not less.

#rant #will probably delete this #but arggh

[gemsofthegalaxy]

OKAY SO i have not read the full succ scripts back to front, ive been looking at some posted on twitter mostly around tom and greg bc. i like them. some stuff, im glad they didn't include, others, i am sad we missed.

I actually really liked the scene with Disgusting Brothers, LLC. Hilarious that Greg cannot even reference licking cunt or pussy. gayass.

i think in some ways it may be redundant, because we already know Greg is trying to cheer tom up, checking in on his eating and sleeping and such but, at the same time,

It really shows that Greg is trying to continue this dynamic that was implied to have been established between seasons that we barely got to see, mostly in s1e1, while Tom is pulling away due to Stress and not giving Greg the attention Greg has clearly come to expect from him?

Greg even says "I did this for you". There is no way you can convince me he is sleeping around for the sake of it, or because he likes it, what he likes about it is getting to hang out with Tom and being Tom's friend and having a special nickname with Tom. even if it's platonic, his best guy friend is more important to him than the women he's apparently sleeping with (again. he can't even say 'licking cunt' like sir you are an adult, you don't have to act like girls have cooties)

The one part i don't like, however... why they would make it explicit only now that Greg is actually in contact with his dad, when his only mentions before were used as a weapon against Greg because he's Gay and presumably ran off

To me, it throws so much about Greg into question and makes me feel crazy. Were were not supposed to read Greg as someone abandoned by his gay father and having issues stemming from that?

This has always been an issue, for me, with how succession treats it's side characters. Even if we don't SEE the backstory, I vastly prefer it when the storytellers HAVE one that is guiding the character's actions, and for this line to have been written, it makes me feel like Greg doesn't, or that I have wildly misunderstood the subtext/hints up until now.

Because, if Greg were actually in contact with his absent gay father, why would he not have hit him up for support earlier? And "Family whatsapp" what??? with his cousins? or with his mom and dad!?! i was under the assumption Marianne didn't talk to her presumably ex-husband. I thought we were meant to think that Greg's Dad, by virtue of being gay, was probably pushed out of the Roy family because he would besmirch their fox-news conservative rep, or that he left to slut it up once he was found out and couldn't hack it being with a Roy.

It's a small moment but, to me, it's just..... wild how it goes against everything I thought I knew about Greg.

The rest of the scene I did like, though. Licking Lots of You Know What, hehe.

#greg hirsch #tomgreg #succession scripts #long post #succession meta #succession #sorry about to be annoying about greg hirsch and try to make logical sense of his stupid character. again.