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violentdelightsandviolentends · 10 months

Text

Honey Girl.

Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.1k

Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).

Author's Note - part one is finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it. i can't wait to write more of this series for you x

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight.

Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/

An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.

"Babe! Babe! Babe!"

"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"

You can guess. In fact, you already have.

Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.

You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.

You wish people would shut up about it.

The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.

You fall into the latter.

You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.

You're not sure you ever want it to happen.

The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.

Not everyone shares the same sentiment.

"Babe, you still there?"

Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"

You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.

"Sure. I'll see you in ten."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."

You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.

"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.

The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.

"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"

She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.

"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."

As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."

"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.

"Like fucking magic."

You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.

"Magic?" you prompt.

"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"

She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.

"So, what's his name? What's he like?"

"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"

"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.

"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."

You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.

"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"

"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."

You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.

"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"

"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."

Jackpot. She's read you like a book.

"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna be spending the rest of my life with!"

"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"

"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"

You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.

"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."

"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."

Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.

"Hi, Mama."

"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."

She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.

"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."

"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."

She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.

"You've poured four, Mama."

"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."

"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."

"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"

She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.

Your Dad's best friend.

They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.

He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.

Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.

She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.

It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.

A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.

Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.

Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.

Might as well make the most of the freedom.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.

"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.

"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.

"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.

"I brought your favourite, Lori."

"So did I," you echo, laughing.

"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"

"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."

"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.

The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.

"Lacie got Tethered."

"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.

"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.

"Tell me about it."

"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."

"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."

"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."

"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."

"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."

"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."

"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."

"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.

And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.

"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.

"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."

You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.

"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."

You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.

"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.

"You got big late night plans?" you tease.

"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."

Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.

"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"

"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."

"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.

You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.

"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.

"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"

They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.

"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.

"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.

"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.

"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.

"Maybe?" he smirks.

"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."

"Like hell you will," he grumbles.

You quirk a brow in confusion.

"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."

You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.

"Why don't we go somewhere?"

"Where?" you ask tentatively.

"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"

You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

"I fucking love the beach."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.

The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.

The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.

A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.

"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."

He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.

"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."

Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.

"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."

"And what is this?"

"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."

You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.

"Me too," he whispers.

You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.

"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."

You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.

"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"

He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.

"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."

"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.

"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.

You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.

"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."

You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.

"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"

"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."

He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.

"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.

"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."

"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."

You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.

"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."

"You're the best, sugar."

You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.

"Nope. You?"

"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"

The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?

"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."

"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.

Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.

"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"

You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.

"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."

He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.

"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.

"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.

Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.

"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."

You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.

"Woah, easy. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.

He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.

And then, it happens.

Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.

Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.

Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.

After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.

You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.

He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.

You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.

He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.

"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.

A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.

"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."

Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.

You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.

You lunge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.

Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.

You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.

A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your Dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.

"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."

"My soulmate," you whisper.

The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.

Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.

"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.

He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.

He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.

"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."

"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.

"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."

You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.

You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.

"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.

He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.

"My honey girl."

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ghelgheli · 1 month

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Afab people can also develop a gendered subjectivity in response to transmisogyny, whether they've been victims of it or not, just as amab people can develop it as a result of misogyny. So, if transfemininity is also defined by this characteristic, afab transfem also fit into it. Your objection to this fact is just a bias based, at best, on ignorance.

It's is a bioessentialist prescription because you're adopting a conception of transfemininity that dictates that to be transfeminine, you have to fulfil to expectation of being male assignment at birth. this is no different from someone who uses the bioessentialist conception of womanhood which require female assignement at birth. Both are form bioessentialism that we should not perpetuate at our level, but rather we should re-thinking these gender categories in a way that doesn't align with bioessetialist conceptions

whoops! you caught me out aha. I forgot that afab trans people have subjectivities shaped by transmisogyny. I also forgot that cis womanhood is defined in large part thru transmisogyny: the fear of being clocky, constant affirmation by distancing from the tranny-object except when it's hot to have a bit of a jawline now, palatability as opposition to the monstrosity of being the shemale. I guess cis women are transfeminine too!

let's remember, while we're at it, that transmisogyny is the spectre that haunts the subject of the cis man. the gendered border policing lest one take a step too close to sissification, the prohibition on behaviour that could threaten to make him a girl—oh! cis men are transfeminine too!

in fact, we're all transfeminine! transmisogyny, as the recognition and attempted correction of the tranny-glitch that undoes the threads of gender, asserts itself against all of us. it is impossible to be a gendered subject without having contours shaped by the domineering pressures of transmisogyny, because that is what demands we all fall in line to the gendered nightmare. oops! all transfem!

but wait. a certain group, deprived now of unique identification, has just lost the ability to describe its gendered situation. it has been swallowed up by the seas of inclusive thinking or whatever. I guess that's okay :) I guess we'll drop our complaints :) we were a nuisance in the first place, weren't we? sorry. so sorry for existing this way.

listen to me. listen to me not as your fucking ephemeral gender oracle telling you what you want to hear before being thrown away, not as your bullshit mouthpiece granting you entrance to this mystical domain you want to claim for yourself, but as a god damn person for once—an impossible thing to ask of the transmisogynistic tranny wannabe, I know, but try!

you cannot escape hegemonic gender and its violent devices with flaccid platitudes about "re-thinking these gender categories" as though by changing the names of things you can change the things themselves. transmisogyny is the bioessentialism, and transmisogyny is why I am a failed man—the faggot embodied—something less than both man and woman—a gender traitor specifically against my assignment itself. and if you cannot recognize the unique ways that transmisogyny is deployed unrelentingly and irrevocably against the ones who will never be able to resort to birth assignment as a defense—against the ones who cannot throw their hands up and say, "I was never supposed to be a man in the first place!"—you have not understood the first thing about the root source of transmisogyny, and it is no surprise to me that you have no sense of transfemininity as a political category, a(n un)gendered class.

#ask answer #what is it with the tranny wannabes stuffing their heads so far up their own asses they become fucking klein bottles #no more patience for this nonsense #but to my moots who are girlies dolls transfems tma whatever i love u all

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whatsnewalycat · 13 days

Text

SURRENDER

Part Two of Ruthless | Stepdad Joel Miller x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 6.2k+

Warnings: non-canon, Boston Joel, dub con, step-cest, sneaky sex, use of the word daddy in a sexual context, dad kink (that’s a thing right?), age gap, degradation, praise kink, avoidance, silent treatment, sneaking into bedroom at night, angst, collective grief, mentions of explosions and gunshots (nothing graphic), *it’s about the yearning*, hair pulling, no physical descriptions of reader aside from hair can be pulled, reader is 18-19, Joel being a bad dom and a bad caretaker, hot shower, food mention, mentions of religion, unethical D/s dynamics, dry humping, anal sex, physical restraint, face fucking, sub-space unlocked, dirty talk, dd/lg maybe i think, masochism, like a lick of fluff if u squint

A/N: Heeeey buddy. As stated above, this is a second part to Ruthless. Big thanks to my love @frannyzooey for the help and hype, you're the best. Please be mindful of the warnings and tell me what cults you think exist in post-outbreak tlou.

[ my masterlist ] [ taglist ] [ AO3 ]

———

As the 19-year anniversary of Outbreak Day draws near, unrest festers in the streets of Boston.

Whenever August ticks over into September, residents of the QZ seem to divide into three distinct categories: people who want to forget, people who won’t let them forget, and people who are too young to remember.

Born post-apocalypse, you fall into this third category.

Which doesn’t mean the ripples of loss don’t touch you, contrary to what some may think. You still lost something. Everyone did.

This fact is apparent when you take the scenic route home from your job posting at the distribution center.

Rubble crunches under your shoes as you walk down the crowded sidewalk, passing by a message spray-painted over the battered brick building: WE’VE BEEN FORSAKEN.

Graffitied sentiments like these pop up constantly this time of year. Overnight, almost. Your mom and Joel mostly blame Fireflies for the vandalism. The bombs, too. Apparently they stir shit up to make people uneasy, then recruit those who seem susceptible. That’s what your mom thinks, anyway. ‘Leveraging their grief against them,’ she says.

You think it might be more than that, though.

Yesterday you saw three separate arguments break out in the streets. When you were taking inventory of k-rations this morning, an explosion went off so close-by that boxes rattled off the shelves. It was the second bombing this week, and you don’t foresee it getting better until October.

Sure, the Fireflies lay claim to the lion’s share of vandalism and destruction, but their activity is consistent year round. They are the baseline. But this? This is different.

You attribute the excess chaos to this heavy, static feeling in the air. It clings to your skin and gets stuck under your nails like a thick cloud of invisible dust or spores. Microscopic particles embed themselves in the cracks and creases of each person inside the QZ, fertile ground for clusters of violence to sprout up at every turn.

If you had to guess, you’d say this phenomenon probably spans the globe. All of you felt the loss of Outbreak Day, the whole human collective. Echoes of what humanity lost will likely still be heard a thousand years from now.

Some people refuse to accept this.

Like the guy a few strides ahead of you, who walks by an orange spray-painted message that reads REMEMBER WHAT YOU LOST and sneers, “Almost twenty goddamn years, fuckin’ let it go and move on.”

You watch him. See his neck get all red as he mutters to himself and clenches his fists at his sides. He looks around like he expects someone to challenge him. Nobody does.

This doesn’t seem to satisfy him.

Further up the sidewalk, he encounters a memorial made up of candles and wilting flowers hugging the side of a residential building. He kicks it over and repeats his earlier sentiment, this time louder and directed towards the brick wall.

“It’s been twenty fucking years, get the fuck over it already!”

Of course, a passing spectator indulges him.

“Hey—watch it, asshole!”

The two men puff up their chests and start yelling back and forth, so you cut right down an alleyway to avoid the situation completely.

When you arrive home, you find Joel at the dining room table, hunched over a map, holding a glass of whiskey like it’s a lifeline.

Neither of you say hello, but when you glance up while untying your gritty shoelaces, you catch him staring at you.

A jolt of electricity shoots through you.

He corrects himself, returning his eyes to the map as he takes a big swig from his glass.

“Mom home?”

“No.”

Nodding, you rise to your feet and slip out of your shoes, squirming with the excitement that one syllable brings you.

“When’s she gonna be home?”

He doesn’t look at you. Just shrugs and takes a sip of whiskey, too engrossed in his project to spare you attention.

For weeks, he’s been trying his hardest to pretend you don’t exist, which would be typical behavior if he didn’t fuck you dumb a few weeks ago. Sometimes you’re not even sure that what happened between you was real.

But, then again, sometimes… sometimes you feel him staring at you when he doesn’t think you’ll notice. Sometimes he touches your waist as he passes by. Sometimes at night you hear him pacing the hall outside your bedroom, the faint squeak of the warped floorboards giving him away.

When this happens, you stare at the door and will him to do it. Aching with something stronger than want, you pray for him to cross the threshold. But he never does.

You exhale through slack lips and wrinkle your nose at the canned goods.

“Hungry?”

He grunts in response, which is Joel for ‘I could eat.’

Tilting your head at the handwritten labels, you present the options, “Stew or… meat and beans?”

Another grunt, roughly translating to ‘Both options are fucking terrible,’ a sentiment with which you wholeheartedly agree. You grab the stew and empty it into a saucepan on the gas stovetop.

While it heats, you steal glances at Joel, noticing the rigidity in his demeanor. His set jaw and tense muscles. The deep creases in his furrowed brow.

You’ve coexisted with him long enough to understand he’s not immune to the heady thrum of anguish in the air this time of year. Like you said, nobody is.

Joel distinctly falls into the “people who want to forget” category of the forsaken, but carries whatever or whoever he lost on Outbreak Day like a ten thousand-pound weight on his broad shoulders. He white-knuckles his way through the season of chaos and mourning and tries to act like it doesn’t affect him, but it does.

You can tell, not just from the way he holds the grief captive in his body, but also from the obvious indulgence in his favorite coping mechanism: planning.

Joel is a meticulous planner.

Between smuggling runs, he comes home after a long day of manual labor at some job site and unwinds by plotting logistics. Drinking, too, but he clearly has a favorite.

Hours will go by while he pours over reference material, maps or blueprints, making addendums of any notable changes he and your mom discovered. After this, he deliberates. Joel could chew up weeks with this step. He plots out each possible route, taking into consideration all the penciled-in shortcuts and caches they’ve stashed within a 30-mile radius, then determines the most beneficial path for their next big adventure.

Given FEDRA’s current paranoid state, with the increased patrols and surveillance and whatnot, your mom and Joel won’t be making a trip outside anytime soon. But still, he drinks and plots and winds himself up into a tight obsessive knot.

You divvy up the simmering stew into two bowls, placing one next to his glass of bootleg booze while you take a seat across the table from him. He ignores your presence, just flicks his eyes around the map like it’s supposed to give him the answers.

When you’re halfway done with your bowl, you gently prod him, “It’s gonna get cold.”

Sitting up in his chair, he sighs and scrubs his face with his hands, then folds up the map and sets it aside.

The two of you eat in silence. Each wordless second twists hot beneath your skin. Your mind wanders to the dig of his fingertips in your soft flesh. The sting of his flattened palm. The stretch of his thick cock. The things he said to you—fuck.

You’re tempted to tell him to do it again. To tell him that you’re still abiding by his rules. That you don’t sneak out anymore. That you haven’t felt the sweet bliss of release for weeks because you don’t fucking come without his permission.

Over and over, you rehearse it in your head. You imagine yourself telling him, ‘I’ve been so good for you and you haven’t even noticed.’

The sound of him clearing his throat pulls you from your thoughts.

He shifts in his seat a little, studying you, “You still seein’ that boy downstairs?”

Your heart stutters. Heat floods your veins as you shake your head.

“Why not?”

All you can do is stare at him while trying to verbalize an answer. For weeks, you ached for his attention. And now that you have it? The words are stuck in your throat.

You shrug, pushing your empty bowl away to lean your elbows on the table. When you look up at him again, he blinks. Waiting for a response.

A rush of adrenaline makes the world around you buzz.

“Why do you care?”

He clenches his jaw for a moment, then parts his lips to respond.

The apartment door swings open.

Both of you start at the intrusion. You jump to your feet to collect the dirty dishes while Joel turns to greet your mother.

“It’s a fucking madhouse out there,” she grumbles, then pulls out the seat adjacent to him and starts telling him about her day.

———

You step into the shower and hiss in reaction to the scalding hot water.

The fact that it's warmed at all surprises you. Not an unwelcome surprise, even if it hurts a little. Most days the water comes out tepid at best, and you’d gladly accept a third-degree burn over a lukewarm shower.

Besides, the sting feels right on your skin, as weird as that sounds. You relish the pain while washing yourself, thinking, ‘this is what I deserve for feeling this way.’ Hell fire, if the sidewalk preachers are right. If there is such a thing. If you’re not there already.

Only once the water runs cold do you turn it off and go back to your room, leaving the door cracked open behind you. After putting on a big t-shirt and some underwear, you turn off the lights and climb into bed.

For a while you stare at the water-stained ceiling and listen. You hear the roar of FEDRA’s armed vehicles patrolling the streets. Far away, gunshots ring out into the night. Some kid starts crying next door, then his mother lulls him back to sleep.

Closing your eyes, you try to tune it all out and focus on the noises within this unit. Concentrate on the drip-drip-drip of the bathtub faucet. The ripping sound of your mom’s snores.

Then, you hear it.

A creak from the floorboards. Footsteps.

Their bedroom door squeaking open.

Everything goes silent long enough for you hold your breath and scream inside your head, please please please—

It starts again. One careful step, then another.

His presence hovers there at the door for six restless seconds before he opens it and steps inside, closing it behind him.

Your pounding heart squeezes your breath ragged. It comes out this shallow, shaky push and pull that broadcasts your consciousness.

Still, you pretend.

You keep your eyes pinned shut and listen to the advance of his footsteps to your bedside.

Down by your feet, the mattress shifts under his weight. He doesn’t touch you for a while, only watches you, his gaze burning into your skin.

Then, he murmurs, “I know you’re not sleepin’.”

You blink your eyes open to look at him, in boxers and an undershirt, all hunched over at the foot of your bed. Always carrying that weight on his shoulders. The glow of the street lamp outside your bedroom window casts this perfect golden light on him that makes you kind of hate how good he looks.

“What are you doing?” you ask in a whisper.

Over the blanket, he rests his hand on your calf, then takes it back and shakes his head.

You roll onto your side, swinging one leg over the blanket and tucking it between your thighs, a wordless plea for him to touch your hungry skin. Joel shifts further onto the bed, turning his body to stare down at you with a straight spine. His gaze drifts up your exposed skin, fingers twitching in his lap.

This faltering self-discipline compels you.

Joel is nothing if not self-disciplined. That much is true for all the forsaken, yourself included.

Your working theory is that nobody wants after the world ends, they just need. Need to sleep, need to eat, need to fight. Anything to survive one more fucking day. It’s all any of you can ask for.

So do you want him, or do you need him?

And what about him? Joel fucking Miller, with his reinforced concrete walls and heavy heart. Was he ever capable of wanting?

“Joel,” you reach out to touch him, beckoning him to meet you halfway.

His eyes flick to your outstretched hand, then back to your face. He shakes his head, as if declining the offer, but you don’t retreat. You sit up and crawl across the bed to him.

The column of his throat bobs, head rocking back as he watches you come to a stop. He almost lets you touch his cheek when you try again, but snatches your hand away before you can make contact.

“Don’t,” he warns, the tone of his hushed voice deadly serious.

He squeezes your fingers while you study his stonewalled expression, tilting your head at him, “Why did you ask me that earlier? If I’m still seeing Bert?”

“I was curious.”

“Curious why?”

His lips part, then close, gaze dropping to your mouth.

Heat pulses through every inch of your body. You drop your voice to a breathy whisper.

“Were you thinking about what you did to me?”

Something flickers behind his eyes when they snap onto yours. It draws you in, urging you to scoot so close your knees butt-up against his jackknifed leg.

“You fucking loved it, didn’t you?” you ask quietly, smirking a little when his stern face twitches, “You loved how it felt to make me surrender—”

The dull throb of his tightening grip around your hand makes you gasp. A rumble slips from his chest, which could be read as a warning if you had an ounce of self-control left. If you didn’t need him to combust.

You let your gaze drift from his burning gaze down the slope of his nose to his lips, “Do you think about it every time you see me, like I do with you? How fucking good it felt?”

“It was wrong—”

“Then why are you here?”

Your question comes out louder than you expected. It ricochets through the charged space between his body and yours, popping the bubble of awareness around you.

All the little sounds you picked up on earlier seep back into the foreground. FEDRA patrolling. The whiz-pop of firecrackers going off maybe a block away. A faint murmur of conversation in the upstairs unit.

He holds your stare, but doesn’t make a sound until a snore rips from your mom’s chest, signaling crisis averted. When he speaks, his words come out hushed and calm.

“You need to be quiet. Understand?”

The command liquifies your bones.

You lick your lips and nod, “I understand.”

“Good.” He studies you as if deep in thought, finally releasing your hand to pinch your chin and assert, “You know why I’m here. Stop pretendin’ you don’t.”

It’s hard not to fall in line when he’s looking down at you like this, all hot-blooded and self-assured. Cocky, almost. But you try to push his buttons anyway.

“I thought it was wrong.”

“Don’t get cute with me. Yes or no?”

Your pulse flutters. Tongue goes numb. All you can do is nod.

He jostles your head a little, “Say it.”

“Yes.”

“Say yes please.”

“Yes please.”

He works his jaw back and forth, studying you, then tugs your shirt.

“Take this off.”

While you pull the offending garment over your head and toss it aside, Joel moves further onto the mattress, leaning back against the wall.

You follow him, swallowing the static buzzing in your throat as he ushers you onto his lap. The scrape of his rough hands on your waist may as well be a live wire crackling across your skin. He pulls you closer and closer until your belly presses into the worn cotton of his shirt. The heat between your legs settles on his stiff length. When he twitches against you, a heady electric current courses through your body and coaxes a whimper from your lips.

It seems too intimate to look at him, so you cast your gaze downward. Your shaky hands lay flat against his chest, absorbing the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

Being with him like this feels strange. Not strange how it sometimes is with a new partner, that clumsiness before you know how your bodies work together.

It’s strange in a fucked up out-of-context sort of way. Of course, growing up around him never conditioned you to think of him like this. Joel fucking Miller, with his scarred-up knuckles and unending apathy. The only man who could make big brown eyes like that seem cold.

All those years, you never considered him anything more than an obstacle.

Even then, if there was some tiny shimmer of attraction lingering under your skin, a piece of you that wanted more from him, you never thought he could feel so solid and soft and alive. You never dreamed he could make you feel so fucking good.

“This stays between us,” he tells you, more of a command than a request.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

The tips of his fingers dig into your hips, and he purrs, “You’ve been good for me, haven’t you?”

You preen at the warm timbre of his voice, body arching into him as you breathe, “Yes.”

Under your touch, his muscles tense. He exhales hot against your cheek and guides your hips in a rocking motion, slow and steady, rubbing all those aching nerves hard against him.

“You liked it, too. Didn’t you? How I fucked you last time?”

A low-frequency hum throbs deep inside you, amplifying every sensation tenfold. You nod, rolling your hips faster, “I did, I liked it.”

“Yeah, you liked it? Or did you fucking love it?” he hisses, “Dirty little slut like you. Bet you loved getting fucked in the ass, didn’t you?”

“Oh my god, Joel—”

“Tell me.”

“Yes yes yes I fucking loved it—”

Too loud.

He ceases all movement, locking you in place with a steel grip. All ten of his digits bury themselves in your skin. The exquisite pain makes you gasp.

“Hush.”

You clamp down on your lips in an attempt to stifle yourself. Each heaving breath wiggles down to your core and back.

“Look at me.”

If you do, you’ll dissolve at the edges. You know it. You are sugar paper and he is a humid room and you are so incredibly fucked.

Pinching your eyes shut harder, you shake your head and whisper, “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll come if I do.”

The confession makes him throb underneath you. He husks, “Do it, look at me.”

You do.

Even in the shadows you can make out his features, his parted lips and hooded gaze. The desire etched into his face as he stares at you, looking mystified in a way you’ve never seen before. Heat percolates beneath your skin, sending your heartbeat racing.

His hips arch into you just so, then he pulls you in and pushes you back, rubbing your body against his, “Do you wanna come? Come for me just like this?”

“Please—please,” you whine, feeling pleasure branch out from your middle as he slides you back and forth, “Please I wanna come for you it’s been so long—”

“Will you be quiet?”

Swallowing a moan, you nod frantically.

His eyes flicker around your face and he breathes, “Go ahead.”

You’re not sure if it’s the flames in his eyes or the fact that you haven’t had an orgasm in almost two months, but the second he gives you permission, the ecstasy you tried so hard to contain spills over the edges and floods your body. It pulses through you hot and hard and makes your mind go white. You have to clasp your hand over your mouth to muffle the guttural noises that try to escape.

“That’s it,” he coos from far away, still grinding your twitching body against him, “There we go. That’s my good girl, hmm?”

“Oh my god—” you whimper at the sharp aftershocks that shoot through you, “It feels so good, Joel, fuck—”

“Do you wanna come again?”

Nodding, you link your hands behind his neck and set yourself in motion, rubbing against him a little faster than his set rhythm. His eyelids flutter as he throws his head back, the muscles under his shirt going taught. Beneath the thin fabric of his boxers, he’s hard as a fucking rock.

Releasing the tight grasp on your hips, he roams up your sensitive skin to your breasts and tests their weight before squeezing. It shoots through you, the pleasure and pain indistinguishable, just a throbbing rush of need. Your breathing comes in heaving gasps and you pinch your eyes shut again, tilting your head towards the ceiling as you once again find yourself struggling to keep quiet.

“Eyes on me,” he reminds you.

You snap them open and meet his.

“Good girl.”

And—god, the way he looks at you, his gaze hungry and wild. Fucking maddening. Simultaneously, you wish he would stop—the contact too intense, too intimate—and pray that it never fucking ends.

Heat bubbles up inside you. You bury your fists in his hair and roll your hips faster, chasing the scorching need for more.

He hisses and pushes back against your thrusts, murmuring, “That’s it, grind that pussy on me, make yourself feel good.”

“Fuck—fuck yes, it feels so fucking good—”

“I can feel how fucking wet you are, leakin’ all over me. You do love it, don’t you, baby?”

You start to tremble and nod, trying your hardest to whisper when you tell him, “Yes yes yes I do I fucking love it—I wanna come again, can I please come again, please please—”

“Listen to you. So good, askin’ for permission.” He brings a hand to your face and brushes his knuckles against your cheek, “Such a quick learner.”

“Joel—”

“Do it. Make yourself come again.”

Something untethers inside you. Heartbeat pounding behind your ears, you work your body against him in jerky movements, each one more delicious than the last. His eyes burn into yours, all heavy-lidded and lust-blown in the darkness, watching your face twist up with pleasure as the hot gooey feeling between your legs stretches wider and wider, then overtakes you completely.

You give in to it with a shattered breath, burying your face against his shoulder to muffle your moans. He holds you down, making sure you smother your cries in the damp cotton of his t-shirt as wave after electric wave washes over you.

When your spasms start to peter out, and your rolling hips come to a stop, he releases his stronghold to pet your hair. Your heaving chests meld together, breath syncing up into a steady ebb and flow as he smooths his palm up and down your spine.

For a moment, it’s just this. Just the soothing motion of him rubbing your back, calming your boneless body. Soft and quiet with everything else stripped away.

Emotion swells in your chest and tingles up your throat, behind your eyes. You try to hide it, the fact that you’re crying, but it becomes obvious when a sob escapes you.

Joel shifts a little, then tilts your chin up to meet his eyes. He searches your face and frowns, furrowing his brow.

“I’m sorry,” you wipe your tears and cast your eyes downward, “I—I don’t know why this is happening, I’m sorry. I’m stupid.”

“No—hey, no,” he assures you, “It’s fine.”

You shake your head.

“Look at me,” he commands, and when you do, he cups your cheek and holds your gaze, “It-it’s normal to feel… emotional. Really, it’s ok.”

The warmth and sincerity of this—his touch, his eyes, his words—makes your heart stutter. It curls up inside you and sedates your jumpy nerves.

You sniffle and nod, “Ok.”

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he studies you, bringing his hands to your waist. The longer you stare at each other, the more all the subtle signs of his lust come back into focus. How his tongue peaks out to wet his lips when he looks at your mouth. The heavy thudding of his heart. His strained breath and throbbing cock.

Your gaze drifts to his lips. A needy, aching desire simmers at the base of your spine. It seems wrong to kiss him. More sensual than sexual, rooted in something he will never have for you. But still, you wonder.

You wonder how soft his plush lips would feel against yours. How he would taste. Whether or not he would use tongue, or teeth, or both.

Your fingertips twitch hesitantly towards his mouth. He doesn’t pull away or admonish you, even though you give him ample time to protest. When you make contact, smoothing your touch over the pillow of his bottom lip, he murmurs against your fingers, “I’m not your boyfriend. I’m never gonna be, either, I wanna make that clear. That’s not what this is.”

“I know you’re not my fucking boyfriend, Joel.” You scoff at the thought, “Boyfriend. I don’t want that. I don’t need a boyfriend. What I need…” you watch your touch drift from his mouth to his jawline, where you scrape your nails through his scruff, “What I need is someone to fuck the thoughts out of my head.”

“Fuck the thoughts outta your head,” he repeats, almost a chuckle, “That’s what you need, huh?”

“That’s what you need, too. Isn’t it?”

Something smolders behind his gaze as he searches your face.

“You can use me, you know. Take whatever you need from me. Use me like a fuck toy, Joel, I fucking need it.”

His whole body reacts to your request, muscles flexing taught as he clenches his jaw.

You bat your lashes at him and pull yourself close enough to feel his breath on yours when you ask, “Don’t you need a little fuck toy like me, daddy?”

“You’re a sick girl, you know that?”

“You like it.”

Neither of you can deny the other’s accusation, resulting in a stand-off that tingles beneath your skin and makes your heart pound in your throat.

Subconsciously, you rock your hips forward and suck in breath when his cock throbs against your clit. He pushes back, flooding your veins with fire, “Are you gonna keep quiet if I fuck you?”

“Are you gonna shut me up if I can’t?”

He lets out one single amused chuckle, then asks, “Are you really tryna test me right now?”

Suppressing a smile, you shake your head.

“That’s what I thought.”

Something in the way he says it blooms heat in your chest. His tone teasing, almost playful.

He gives your ass a light smack, then tugs at your underwear, “Take these off.”

You roll off him onto the mattress and slide them down your legs while he stands to strip naked. Seeing his cock makes your body hum. It stands at attention, bobbing a little when Joel catches you staring.

Sidling up to the bed, he beckons you closer, so you follow his silent guidance and crawl over to him, wrapping your hand around his thick length. You glance up at him, licking your lips as you await further instructions.

“Get it nice ‘n’ wet for me.”

Nodding, you bring your mouth to the head of his cock, exploring first with your tongue, licking up the salty dribbles of lust. You taste a hint of yourself on him too, arousal that soaked through his boxers and marked him yours. Temporarily, at least. At least for tonight, or at least for right now.

A pleased rumble erupts from his chest when you wrap your lips around him and start to slide up and down his shaft. He feels solid and warm and fills your mouth completely. The first time he hits the back of your throat, you gag and pull off him, working him with your hands as you catch your breath.

“Do it again.”

You take him in your mouth, rutting up and down a few times before sitting up taller to drive him down your throat. He buries his fists in your hair and thrusts his hips forward, “There we go, that’s it—fuck, you’re so fucking good at that.”

His praise sparks at your core. You whine around his cock and bob against his thrusts. It doesn’t matter that you can’t breathe. You don’t need oxygen, you just need this. The sting of his grip prodding your movements, the raw stretch of him fucking your airway, the wet squelch that fills the room.

When he yanks your head back and unclogs your throat, you gasp for breath and stroke him with both hands, churning his slick length. Fire roars in his eyes when you look up at him.

He grabs your chin and husks, “Say thank you.”

“Thank you.”

He smacks your cheek and grabs your chin again, “Say thank you for fucking my face.”

“Thank you for fucking my face, I fucking love it—”

“Say please can I have some more.”

“Please can I have some more, daddy?”

Stifling a groan, he crams it back in your drooling mouth, down your throat, snapping his hips in sharp, quick thrusts that make you gurgle with pleasure around him. Far away, you hear him panting, “Take it take it take it—”

The chorus makes your body tingle. You think about your mom sleeping in the other room, how there’s just a wall between her and this. How she could wake up at any moment and follow the muffled, hedonistic noises. How she would find Joel balls deep in your mouth and you giving him something she never could: control.

This time when he pulls you off his cock, he uses his white-knuckle grip on your hair to make you flip over and turn around, ass in the air towards him.

The head of him nudges up against the tight ring of your asshole. You hear a wet splat, then feel the heat of his spit trickling down between your cheeks. Your body clenches with anticipation as he smears it around.

“Remember, you gotta relax,” he murmurs, releasing your hair to smooth a palm against your spine.

You inhale a deep breath and exhale the tension from your muscles, letting your heart melt into the mattress.

“Good girl,” he arches forward, breaching your entrance.

The sharp sensation splits you open. It pulls a wanton moan from your lips that rings through the silent apartment like a siren.

Yanking you up by your hair, Joel secures your back to his humid chest and clasps a hand over your mouth. Stars invade your field of vision as he drives his cock deeper and deeper, only stopping when he can’t go any further. You sob against his palm, so he pulls it down harder, muffling the noise until you stop.

Everything goes silent and still, but you can’t even bring yourself to worry that you woke her. Not when all you can hear is your thudding heart and his ragged breath, coarse with what you assume is rage or lust or both. Not with his lightning rod cock vibrating hot up your middle.

It doesn’t matter that she could walk in to find her common-law husband fucking your ass, or that this discovery would burn all your lives to the ground. All you care about is more. More stimulation, more attention, more Joel—more more more—

You try to move your hips in an attempt to create friction, but his vice grip renders you immobile. So you stay in place and try not to make noise as the flames lick at your insides. You squirm and ache and claw at his arms while he muffles your whimpers.

Then your mom snores in the other room.

He pulls his hand from your mouth and you gasp for air.

Thinking you can get ahead of the inevitable scolding, you plead, “I’m sorry—”

He drags his cock out of your body, then plunges it back inside, all the while hissing, “If you’re gonna be my little fuck toy—”

“Holy fuck—”

“—You have to be fucking quiet. Do you understand?”

Nodding, you gasp, “I understand, I’ll do better, I promise—please just fuck me, please please—”

You strangle a moan in your throat when he slips a hand between your legs and draws tedious circles on your clit.

“Try ‘n’ breathe through it,” he coaches, “I’ll go slow for you this time, ok? Just remember, shut the fuck up and take deep breaths.”

You suck in air until your chest is full, then release it, restricting its flow through a narrow space between your lips. You do it again. Tension begins to melt from your bones. It has a clarifying effect, allowing you to relish in the heat of his touch. You take another deep breath, only hitting a snag when Joel starts to rock his hips.

It feels fucking unreal. Rough and raw, the steady drag of his cock fills you with static electricity over and over.

“Oh fuck—”

“Shhh…”

Your inhale stutters, but you regain control on the exhale. Everything disappears except him. His heated skin sticking to yours. How fucking full he makes you feel with each thrust. The thick swell of pleasure that accumulates every time he flicks his wrist. You surrender to all of it, to Joel, entrusting him with everything except your breath.

“That’s it, baby, let go.”

“It feels ssso gooood,” you whisper, head rolling back onto his shoulder, “Nothing’s ever felt this good, holy shit—”

His lips tickle your ear as he purrs, “Such a good little fuck toy, aren’t you, baby?”

You gasp a little when the velvet of his tongue rolls against your pulse. Nodding, you reach back behind his neck to scrape your fingernails through his curls. He does it again, this time sealing his lips to suck on the sensitive skin. Your heart pounds thick and hot through your body. The edges peel back at the corner of your mind. You push back against his thrusts, panting out subdued whimpers as the fire in your belly begins to spread.

“Do you wanna come?”

“I do, I wanna come—oh my god I wanna come, please make me come, daddy—”

His hand covers your mouth and holds you down so he can fuck you harder, stretching you out wide and filling you deep. He works your clit faster. The bed frame thumps against the wall in a frantic rhythm that matches the wet slap of his thrusts. Tears prick your eyes and heat swells beneath your skin, pressure building more and more until you think you can’t fucking take it anymore—

His palm smothers your moans as you fall apart, breaking into a million pieces and coming back together again with a choked sob. Joel buries his face in the crook of your neck and groans as his hips snap forward, then stutter to a stop.

The two of you go slack propping each other up, too loose-limbed and lethargic to peel yourselves away at first. He makes the first move to separate, though, uncovering your mouth to brush the damp hair from your forehead, “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you tell him instinctively, then second-guess yourself and look up to meet his eyes, “I mean, I don’t know. I think so.”

He studies you, nodding.

Hesitation buzzes in your chest when you contemplate whether or not to return his question. It seems unlikely he’d cooperate even if you wanted to know the answer. So instead, you give him his out.

“Is this goodnight, then?”

“Suppose it is.”

A flicker of something passes between your bodies as you stare at each other. It feels so hot to the touch that you chicken out, glancing away as you whisper, “Will you do something for me before you go?”

“Hmm?”

“Tuck me in?”

The noise that comes out of him is half-grunt, half-chuckle. Joel for, ‘You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.’ But he obliges, pulling his soft cock from your body at a mercifully slow speed before allowing you to make yourself comfortable. He sorts out your blanket and drapes it over your body, then starts fishing his clothes off the floor.

Tugging his shirt over his head, he asks, “Need anything else, princess?”

You’re sure it’s a dig, but choose to ignore it as you snuggle into the covers and hint, “Don’t make me wait so long next time.”

He sits down at the edge of your mattress and threads his legs through the boxers, “I’ll make you wait as long as you need to. What else?”

“Mmm. Goodnight kiss?”

“Goodnight kiss,” he scoffs to himself, then looks back over his shoulder at you, “Fine, then I’m goin’ to bed.”

He turns to face you more directly, folding a knee onto the bed as he leans in and tilts your head to the side, pressing a gentle kiss into your cheek. Even though you wish he had kissed your lips, you close your eyes and savor the affection while you can.

After murmuring goodnight, Joel leaves. He crawls back into bed with your mother while you memorize the sound of his retreating footsteps.

#joel miller #x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us smut #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #ruthless joel miller #whatsnewalycat writes #pedro pascal smut

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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months

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Summoning Game Show Part 5

Masterpost

I just spent an unnecessarily long time making A Quiz so I would have questions and answers ready to go, only to not put any of them in. And spend a ridiculously long time doing math because I had to redo it like three times. Numbers are not my strong suit. In any case I now have a fully functional Jeopardy game and the next part.

~~~~~

It’s a close race. They were equal on the mountain track and neither really got sidetracked by Skulker on such a straightforward route. They made it to Zone Two almost even, but Jason almost immediately falls behind as Skulker hits him with a paintball. Being shot at shocked him more than anything, but realizing it was paint, he stopped trying to avoid it and just kept going, letting his armor deal with most of it. Skulker got bored and quickly went after Johnny instead, who got irritated and started a shouting match with Skulker as he drove. The different terrains meant they had to keep slowing down and speeding up, and Skulker got bored with the paintballs and started throwing water balloons instead. This was more annoying for the drivers because the water made the sand and mud trickier to drive on. Both Johnny and Jason both got their bikes temporarily stuck in mud and had to drag them back out while Skulker cackled above them.

Zone three allowed Jason to catch back up to Johnny. This was what he was used to and he was able to go faster with more confidence. Johnny and Jason separated after Skulker shot a net at them both. And they found each other again on a straightaway leading to the finish line. It was close at the end, but Jason managed to pull out ahead.

They shook hands at the finish line, walking back into the main room together. They separated when Johnny left to go back to the stands, followed closely by Skulker.

“Wonderful race, very intense, great driving all around.” Danny says, very entertained. “Well earned win, Jason. I’ll remind you this is what you have currently.”

“What letter would you like to guess?”

“I’ll take I.”

“Another vowel, very good.” Danny waves his hand again. “There are two I’s!

“The next challenge is trivia, which will be played by Red Robin as he is the only one who has yet to participate in a challenge.”

A new podium appears on stage as Danny’s podium rotates so the two are facing each other. Red Robin walks up to the new podium.

“ The theme is SPACE!” Danny is so excited he is practically bouncing. A jeopardy-looking game board appears on the screen. “ You have 6 categories, all space themed, they are: Earth, Other Planets, Space Numbers, Stars, Other Space Entities, and Spacecrafts! There are 9,000 possible points, you need to get at least 7,500 in order to win! The game can stop as soon as we’ve reached that number.”

Red, being Red, decides to do all the hardest questions first. He starts at the bottom left corner, gets the first question right. Tim thinks since he got the hardest one he could probably finish out the Earth category pretty easily, so he goes down the list and gets them all correct.

With 1,500 points he decides to start the next category with the hardest question as well. This is his first wrong answer. He starts going up the list, and gets the 400 incorrect for this category as well. Danny is disappointed. The rest of the boys are infinitely relieved that Tim is the one doing the trivia part. They probably would have lost already.

Tim does get the rest of the ‘Other Planets’ category correct and moves on with 2,100 points and 6,000 points left on the board. He decides to start ‘Space Numbers’ with the 100 point question and keeps going, acing the whole category. He now has 3,600 points. With 4,500 points left on the board he needs 3,900 more points. This means he can only lose 600 more points. He aces the ‘Stars” category, then moves on to ‘Other Space Entities’. He misses the last question, leaving him with 6,100 points and 1,500 left on the board. Tim can only afford to miss the 100 point question, so he decides to start at 500 and get it over with.

He continues until he reaches the 200 point question. If Tim answers this one he will win, and he does so correctly the screen changes to shoots of confetti.

#batman #danny phantom #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #alternate universe #tim drake #redrobin #jason todd #red hood #skulker #johnny 13 #space!!!#summoning game show #my writing #fanfiction

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macgyvertape · 16 days

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It's pretty fun to think about what perks SPECIAL build Lucy, Maximus, and The Ghoul have since it feels like the writers had that as character reference, even though it varies in implementation from game to game.

I'd say the obvious is The Ghoul has level 10 Charisma, Lucy somewhere in the middle, and Maximus though I love him has 1 or 2 since he isn't passing any speech skill checks. Where Maximus really shines is with Strength and Endurance since he takes a lot of hits that he can keep fighting through. Lucy seems to be spread with a few points in a lot of categories from her introductory pitch but a focus on Intelligence and Charisma, which reminded me of my first character where I did a few points in a lot of categories which then made combat very hard. Overall considering how all three characters finish the show alive with all limbs (re)attached they must have a decent Luck stat.

As for perks:

The Ghoul - it's pretty obvious he has Bloody Mess: "Increased damage with all weapons, and enemies can explode upon death." There's 2 big fight scenes where it's him vs multiple enemies and it with how many shots he gets off, it seems like he has Grim Reaper's Sprint: which returns action points when killing an enemy. Then we see him cut up Roger the ghoul for meat so he also has the Cannibal perk. I'm not sure whether the game would class him as Chem Resistant with how he shrugs off Lucy's dart, or if that would fall under addiction mechanics.

Lucy - an obvious guess is the FO3 perk Daddy's Girl: "Just like dear old Dad, you’ve devoted your time to intellectual pursuits. You gain an additional 5 points to both the Science and Medicine skills." Her rewiring of Mr Handy suggests Robotics Expert. I might be reading too much into the random encounters she has, but she has a number of them so something like Wild Wasteland makes sense.

Maximus - Toughness: which reduces damage threshold/damage taken is an obvious one. He notably doesn't have power armor repair skills, but in older games a perk like Power Armor Training was needed to use it. There's a few different melee attack perks in the games but Fo4 Big Leagues fits well

#fallout show #fallout prime #fallout spoilers #fallout #lucy maclean #the ghoul #maximus #fallout maximus

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 9 months

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I don't know if this was addressed already but how many fae types have we seen or heard of so far?

Off the top of my head, the two main classifications of fae seem to be nocturnal fae and diurnal fae, and there are several other kinds of fae that fall under each. Here is what I can recall:

All fae have pointed ears.

Depending on the subspecies of fae, they may have additional traits or powers.

Some fae can make their own magic, as well as absorb magic from nature to use.

Generally, fae govern certain natural elements such as fire or water.

🌙 Nocturnal fae

Nocturnal fae have many yet-to-be-named subclassifications; for example, both Lilia and Sebek's mother and grandfather are considered nocturnal fae but Lilia resembles a bat/ and Sebek's family resembles crocodiles.

The Zigvolts’ specific subspecies have not yet been formally named to us. Their subspecies is known for having scales and a strong bite.

Lilia says that "his kind" of fae can live up to 1000 years. It is said in book 7 that he is a bat fae, which may explain his weakness to the sunlight.

The language of the nocturnal fae sounds like animalistic snarls, grunts, and growls to the human ear.

Dragon fae (Dragon fae are also most likely a subspecies of nocturnal fae, which may be why the Briar Valley army’s slogan mentions the night. Malleus, as well as the Draconia line, are dragon fae; they are descended from actual dragons. Dragona fae are considered babies at 200 years old, teenagers at 500 years old, and adults at 1000 years old.)

Lilia, Malleus, and Sebek demonstrate enhanced senses. Lilia and Malleus also have enhanced physical abilities (strength, speed, etc.)

It is implied that fae in the Briar Valley are nocturnal fae. Additionally, silver hair is more common for nocturnal fae. Blonde hair is not common.

☀️ Diurnal fae

They do not get along with nocturnal fae.

The Fairy Queen from Fairy Gala is considered a diurnal fae.

Pixies are a smaller type of fae that fall under the "diurnal" category; they speak in a language which sounds like bell-like tinkling.

Pixies are usually associated with the various elements of nature so there are fire pixies, water pixies, and flora pixies.

We also see crafting pixies (those are the ones with blonde hair and leafy clothes), which fix items and can make a special bell which translates pixie speech.) The leader of the craft fairies is named Macy.

An honorable mention goes to dwarves, which were suggested to be a kind of fae. In 5-55 of the main story, Yuu thinks the Seven Dwarves are a type of fae because of their pointed ears:

However, even if you select the bottom option it’s not confirmed that the dwarves are a type of fae until a few chapters later (5-59) by Jamil.

It’s not stated whether dwarves are diurnal, nocturnal, or neither. Based on just aesthetic alone, I’d guess diurnal.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #Lilia Vanrouge #Sebek Zigvolt #Baul Zigvolt #Baal Zigvolt #Bal Zigvolt #disney twisted wonderland #question #notes from the writing raven #Fairy Queen #Seven Dwarves #Yuu #twst resource #twisted wonderland resource #Jamil Viper

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absolutebl · 4 months

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This Week in BL - Top 3 Are HEATING UP

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Dec 2023 Wk 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Honestly, 3 are neck & necking for top position! They are all so good in different ways. But The Sign had me hooting with laughter this week, so it scooped #1.

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 4 of 10 - This show is literally everything (except straight) all at once. It's BL, queer, band of brothers, romcom, erotica, paranormal, fated mates, mystery, suspense, slasher, and horror. It’s the king of genre mash-up chaos. I have no idea what I’m watching but I’m ON this ride. Is it a roller coaster? Is it a haunted house? Is it a twirl & hurl? Is there candy floss? Am I even tall enough? Who tf cares. All through the second scene, I was laughing. It was legit funny. Billy has great comedic timing. Guess he’s not just a pretty face.

Everyone should be watching this. Sure, it's madness but there is genius in it.

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 6 of 12 - Yech. August may be one of GMMTV’s least likable characters ever (and that is saying something). Meanwhile, MOAR language play! They spoiling me!

Mhok letting Day go then walking away at the party hurt so bad.

Argh this show is great!

Ep 6 so that kiss was right on schedule. I’m looking forward to the boyfriend eps before doom & pain in the new year. Carry on GMMTV.

Speaking of...

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 2 of 12 - Oh they’re great. It’s great. It’s paced oddly, moving quickly through most of the key scenes of the original JBL in these first 2 eps. I think it’s intending to encompass more of the manga series than that one did. Which is good, cause that will get us all the way to The Library Kiss (TM). It's the best kiss in the manga. I also like the sides in this show (better than the JBL version).

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) ep 8fin - What a lovely slightly unhinged little show. Tew, can we talk? Un-ironic suspenders, that takes courage. Also, the revolver was a crazy gun choice.

Final thoughts:

This show is just as ridiculous as its title. About a gaymer who falls in love with one of his in-game teammates, who just happens to be a IRL gangster. A real gangster, the kind that actually kills people regularly. The lead pair is doing their best with a ridiculous story and shoddy script, but I enjoyed it. Although I was grateful it wasn’t very long, what we got was oddly satisfying if, frankly, a little bit silly. Recommended. 8/10

That said, what's important about this BL is not the show, but the production and style. Let me explain... no, too much, let me sum up.

This is a chimera BL. Regarding characters: it has Japan's style otaku + Korea's style gangster + Thailand's style friendship group. It used Thai talent + Korean money (Kakao) & IP (adapted from a manwha) but aired on a Chinese channel globally (iQIYI). I'm delighted by the eclectic insanity of this production and truly doubt that any other genre but BL could ever produce like this. It's like diplomat's BL and it's the great wonder of our age that it happened at all. This BL deserves its place in the history books on production alone, even if that place is only in the footnotes. A remarkable little monster.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - The sides are… messy. Using the same actor for the old bf is… odd. But in the end, this show leaves me smiling. Which means, I like it despite myself.

Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - It's decent. It’s basically what I wanted Antique Bakery to be when I first watched that way back when (not to mention Bite Me). But there’s been so much BL since then that, for some reason, this is falling flat. I think it’s moving too fast for a Thai series. Although, say what you like, Ohm has to be one of the best soft kissers in the industry. He's just good at mouth tenderness.

Ugh, that doesn't sound right. But you know what I mean.

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 7 of 10 - I love how First is so upset when Sprite starts chatting and being nice to Koh. Sprite is just a sweet easy-going likable boy. I enjoy Sprite as a main character, he’s a bubbly little communicator. And they had a cute kiss.

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 5 of 14 - Because there was more Alan and Jeff and they were more key to the plot I was more into this ep. I do compare it to green smoothie down the pants in the Trash Watch.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 3 of 12 - Look OffGun are truly great. But I’m just not sure we need them in BL anymore. That said, it’s nice to see Off as "the one with the crush" for a change. Also, this show is only good when OffGun are on screen together, otherwise it kinda, well, sucks.

Night Dream (Sat YT) ep 1 of 6 - Cafe setting featuring a cook and a writer. *Seems awfully familiar.* Except these two are exes and this is a reunion romance. It’s stiff and very pulp but not bad (no crap sound effects) and I am a sucker for a reunion romance. That said, Rookie Thailand is not to be trusted, proceed with caution.

Absolute Zero (Weds iQIYI) ep 12fin - I'm grateful this is over. It was tense but for the wrong reasons - sadness and confusion. This final episode was fine, but that’s because it was mostly them being together + flashbacks. Plus all the familiar actor faces of the grown-up friends (hi, Karn my lovely, still stunning I see). But 2 of 12 episodes is not enough for the 10 of suffering and confusion that came before.

In conclusion:

A man is killed on his 10th anniversary resulting in a time paradox, for which the only solution is him never meeting his childhood sweetheart until later in life. Both lovers cycle back to the past at different ages, so that they each become their own 1st & 2nd great loves, but every time it ends in pain, until each also endures 10 years of separation. Finally it gets fixed, but leaves them with multiple memories of time's failures like temporal PTSD, and everyone around them has chronic deja vu. Me? I got both. This is one of those BLs that is high-quality with great acting but poor story. If you like your BL dwelling, maudlin, and tense due to angst and suffering, then you might enjoy this. But I just regret it, 6/10. Recommended only if you like confusing time travel emo pain.

In which case, just watch Tokyo in April is... instead. Give over Thailand, Japan does it better.

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 6 of 8 - While our main couple isn’t working for me... the side couple isn’t working for me either. I really wanted to give LeoTai a chance, this is the 3rd show I’ve seen them in, and still nope. I like Jade a lot more when he’s sad. He’s a much more pleasant screen experience depressed. I would like him to stay hurt for a couple of eps, just so I can enjoy this show a tiny bit more. But then he just goes unhinged again. Argh. I just don’t like it.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) Pisces of Me ep 17 of 24 - Codependent boyfriends in middle school planning for high school dealing with stuff. Including other boys being into them.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 5 of 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. DNF

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - It’s cute but I don’t think BL in this short format is Taiwan’s strength these days. And this is quite slow and dull. Perhaps they should have whacked it down to 6 eps, not 10.

Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 8 - This is one of those JBLs that I should like on paper but is failing me. The drag bit was ridiculous but handled gently. The kiss was… well… something wasn’t it? It’s all very odd. I like the photographer cutie character.

It's Airing But...

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if it's safe.

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed with ep 1. Been told I shouldn't bother.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until after it completes its run next week.

Dear Kitakyushu (Thai/Japan movie) in theaters in country only, I know nothing about distribution.

Behind the Shadows (Korea movie) this is a historical I was interested in, but I've been told they kill the gay so I'm OUT.

Next Week Looks Like This

Still coming:

12/23 Dead Friend Forever (Thai horror) iQIYI

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED). With the end of the year upon us I'll do an "announced for 2023 but never happened list" soon.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

He so pretty.

I forgot how likable TayNew are, and frankly I think New is a better version of this role for me, personally. I like him a lot. He's a conscientious sweetheart. And a good egg. (Cherry Magic)

Ah the rooftop my old friend. (Last Twilight)

I would like to point out that it's no accident the naga's sex dream happened in the shower, he's a water creature after all. (The Sign)

(Last week)

#the sign the series #was very hot this week #this week in bl #bl updates #Last Twilight #Thai BL #cherry magic #my dear gangster oppa #my dear gangster oppa review #for him the series #Bake Me Please #antique bakery #twins the series #cooking crush #offgun #Absolute Zero review #bl reviewed #bl reviews

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elliebarker · 1 year

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one of the many. ( e williams )

category: modern!college/university!ellie x female!reader : angst, fluff

summary: after her devastating heartbreak with her first girlfriend in highschool, ellie swore off dating, everything she did was casual, non-committal. that was until you showed up. (basically logan and rory troupe but make it happy)

warnings: alcohol consumption, implied smut, “friends with benefits”, cheating(?), use of the word “baby”, a somewhat copy of rory and logan’s fight, fuck boy!ellie (LMAO I’M SORRY).

word count: 2.1k

it had been almost three years since ellie’s first, and only, breakup with her ex-girlfriend, cat. she was older now, more mature, i mean for god’s sake she was a junior in college she couldn’t still be hung up on some stupid girl from highschool. that is why she had resorted to this. one girl in today, another one tomorrow. no attachments. casual. she was hanging out in a cramped party at her friend's house, sipping something alcoholic, with one, two, girls on her arm, laughing and giggling and tracing their fingers up and down her fore-arm tattoo. she was, enjoying herself, she guessed. the party life wasn’t exactly dull, it was the crowd she was surrounded with, a bunch of drunken girls over-exaggerating their laugh so that she’ll go home with them. she wasn’t opposed to it, if fact she probably needed to let loose and celebrate the compilation of one of her tests, she just hadn’t found the right girl yet. that's when she spotted you. an absolutely gorgeous girl, trying to find your way through the crowd. and she immediately took the opportunity to…introduce… herself.

“hey girl,” ellie said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, her action causing your spaghetti strap to fall slightly lower on your shoulder. “i’m ellie, what’s your name?” she asked and you introduced yourself, pulling your strap back to a more comfortable position, and smiled up at her. fuck it ellie thought i’m just gonna go for it. “wanna get out of here?” she asked, earning a smirk and a cheeky ‘sure’ from you as she led you out of the party’s front door.

ellie woke up and stretched her fingers, sore from last night, to see your body draped in and out of the sheets of her bed, still resting. her heart fluttered a little but she chose to ignore it. she sighed, clearly, you didn’t know how this worked. but it was early, and she had never slept with you before, so she gave you cut slack, she’d find a way to get you up and out of her apartment later. a few minutes passed and your body started to feel the lack of ellie’s presence. you woke up in a dingy bedroom full of music posters and scattered clothes. one pile, of which, being yours. your legs were sore as you stood up and grabbed your clothes off the floor, with a little shame in realizing the reality of your situation. you eventually got up all of your belongings and went to find ellie.

“hey,” you greeted, voice hearse and sleepy, as you walked up behind ellie’s sitting figure in the living room. she was wearing new clothes, jeans and a shirt, layered with a flannel with her hair half up pulled into a lazy barely-ponytail. her eyes racked up your body, hair messy and outfit sagged from it being thrown off the night before. “so, um, do you want my number or? i’m sorry i haven’t really done any of this before…” you stuttered on your words.

“look,” she said getting up from the couch, “i like you,” she began, “i really do. it’s just i’m not really into all that relationship crap, you know? i don’t feel like i should be tied down to someone.” she explained, moving her hand to rub the back of her neck.

“oh no i get that,” you lied, “i just, was hoping we can still…hang out.” you said, trying to come as casual as you could.

“oh no, definitely,” ellie said, smirking, as she looked you up and down. you kissed her on the check before you said goodbye. and that’s how it was. at least once a week you’d be over at her place, ‘hanging out’. it was nice. nice, until, “hey,” ellie said whilst scrolling through her phone, looking over at you gathering up your clothes, “down to go to a party?” she asked.

“sure!” you said, a smile rising to your face at the anticipation of spending time with ellie, outside the arrangement the two of you had. you went inside ellie’s bathroom, it was small and a little dingy, in order to fix up your hair and get ready to face the outside world. once you were both ready to leave, ellie locked the front door behind her and walked you to her car. it wasn’t until you were both buckled into her car and driving down to some girl’s house with her hand on your thigh that you realized you and ellie would be out together in public for the first time. i mean, sure, you’d see the other girls ellie was hooking up with but she decided to come to the party with you. you. ellie eventually pulled up to a house and slipped out of her car, with you not far behind. it was obvious with the loud music and yelling coming from the white brick house which one would be entering. you slipped through the front door with ellie by your side and went around to make conversation with the few people you knew here. you knew ellie wouldn’t want you clinging to her side the whole night. more than a few moments passed and pop music remixes blared through low-quality speakers all around the house. you did your best to socialize, and decided to look around and find ellie. luckily, she was in sight. on the other side of a heep of sweaty, dancing bodies. you were going to make your way over until an arm stopped you. the arm tan and delicate resting atop ellie’s knee whilst she sat atop the kitchen’s barstool. you felt a green-monster flash of despair, both anger and sadness. of course ellie wasn’t yours, but fuck, did your delusional-ass-self really think you meant something to her? something more than just a girl she fucks? acid rain fell from your eyes as you stormed your way out of the crowded jungle of drunken bodies. time had passed and you’d gone numb. you’d rationalized it. you and ellie weren’t exclusive, you knew that. so why did that girl fucking bother you so much? it wasn’t her fault, of course, she didn’t know. and that's the thing, know what? exactly, nothing. that’s what you were to ellie, nothing, disposable, replaceable. but your whole pissed-off attitude disappeared into a mear thought when she approached you, body lanky and oh so attractive.

“what’s with this whole ignoring me thing?” ellie laughed, leaning against the wall next to you, looking over your pouting frame. you didn’t want to start anything, god knows you didn’t, but the edging creepy feeling of jealousy washed over you.

“what was that?” you asked simply, not-answering her question with another.

“what was what?” she asked, seeming genuinely confused. you sighed, then began again, uttering the first answer to a question since the conversation first started.

“her…” you said, looking around the room for the girl ellie was with earlier, “that…girl…you were all flirty with.”

“oh,” ellie sounded surprised, “that’s dina,” ellie laughed, “another, friend, of mine.”

“friend?” you asked, as if you doubted her use of the word, “that’s what i am?” you asked, jestering to yourself, “a fucking friend?” you saw the gears turning in ellie’s head, the fight or flight kicking in. she composed herself without the slightest reaction that she was ever the least bit scared, to the untrained eye that is.

“yeah.” ellie’s voice grew impatient and angry, as if to say, ‘i don’t have time for your crap’, “that’s what we agreed upon.” ellie moved her hand from her hip to in front of her, “friends.” her stern voice and your overwhelming guilt and regret was building up and you felt tears starting to form in your eyes. you let out a,

“y’know what? i- i can’t fucking do this,” before your voice could break and left the party, letting you walk yourself home. it wasn’t until you reached the welcoming doors of your bedroom that the tears that were welling in your eyes finally fell. and they fell fast. you sobbed into your pillow all night, so much so, when you woke up your pillow was still damp. you knew you couldn’t do it anymore. you slumped off your bed, and made sure to take care of yourself. you showered, did your skin care, put on something more comfortable. you opened your phone, scrolled to ellie’s contact and pressed ‘call’. there was only one ring until,

“hello?” she called out your name.

“we need to talk, ellie.”

you walked through the mountains of fall leaves and cold air to reach her apartment. you planted a solid two knocks on her door and she immediately opened the door, you could tell she was nervous. her nails were picked at and her eyes darted everywhere around the room but you. the tension was thick, and you knew you had to settle, or rather end, it.

“ellie, i don’t think we should see each other anymore.” you bluntly stated.

“ugh, c'mon is this about that stupid shit last night? you're still hung up on that?” ellie questioned.

“look it's like you said, you can’t be couple-y with me and i get that it’s just i’m a ‘girlfriend’, ellie, i have ‘girlfriends’ not…friends.” you explained, used your hands to display a pair of air quotes when you pronounced the word friends. “i’m sick of…i’m sick of being one of the many, i can’t do it anymore, that’s it okay? i can’t be your friend anymore, i thought i could be different, but i can’t, i’m sorry.” you huffed out the big speech you’d crafted on your way to her apartment. after an erie second of silence, ellie spoke.

“don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“i get it,” ellie said, rubbing her hands together trying to settle her nerves and her voice at a calm level, “i get what your doing.” ellie accused you.

“i’m not doing anything,” you stated, plainly, confusion written all over your face, wondering where she was going with this.

“if that’s what you want, a…a girlfriend, then just come out and say it okay? don’t make me sit here and worry and feel like i fucked up, don’t make me pace around my apartment, don’t come here saying ‘i can’t see you anymore’ don’t fucking do that! i’ll be your girlfriend? alright? that’s what you're really saying huh?” ellie lectured you.

“that’s not what i’m saying, ellie.” you tried to explain, but she kept going on,

“no, no, but that’s what you mean, don’t you?” she sighed, putting her hands on your waist, “c’mon, i’ll do it”

“what?” you gasped.

“i said i’ll do it, okay?” ellie forcefully stated, “i’ll be your girlfriend, it’s either all or nothing baby.”

“you can’t be my girlfriend,” you pushed her back.

“who says i can’t? huh?” ellie’s hands slithered their way back onto your waist.

“um, you, last night!” you declared, recalling her aggravated tone from the night before.

“oh come on! last night was last night, forget about it, right now is right now and i want, scrap that i need you, don’t– don’t leave me sweet girl.” ellie pleaded, begged you. you placed a hand on your hip in an attempt to display fake confidence.

“you have a hundred girls on speed dial.” you scoffed, disbelieving of this ‘new’ ellie.

“who cares about them? they don’t matter to me.”

“look,” you began, “i know you, i know your type, commitment is not your thing and that’s fine! non-commitment isn’t mine so it's better if we just go our separate ways.” you turned to leave. ellie’s hands, previously placed on your waist, went up to arm and turned you back around to look at her.

“just let me try,” ellie said, looking deeply genuine, “if i say i can do this, then i can do this.”

“ellie–” she interrupted you calling out her name, with your own.

“do you really want to stop seeing me?”

“no,” you stuttered, “but i can’t–”

“‘cause i don’t wanna stop seeing you.” ellie smiled at you.

“are you sure–?” she cut you off a third time, this time with her lips. waves crashed and goals scored in that moment. her lips, never so delicate until this point, landed on yours and connected each other. it was utterly and absolutely euphoric. her lips were soft, softer than other times you had kissed. and it was then you knew. it was then you both knew. you were the one. she didn’t want anyone else. only you. her girlfriend. and she was finally proud to call you that.

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #college!ellie williams #college!ellie #ellie tlou #tlou fanfiction #ellie angst #ellie williams angst #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fan fiction #ellie williams fanfic

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sophies-junkyard · 8 months

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NOBODY ASKED but… Obviously Simon’s arc in adventure time solidified the series as one of greatest of all time (and I’m so hyped for this ice king sadness renaissance) but now I’m thinking of OTHER Adventure Time moments that rewired my brain as a kid. In no particular order:

1. “Once the strong guys got it how they liked it they said ‘this is fair now. This is the law.’ Once they were winning they changed the rules”. They really had the cartoon dog say that on tv in 2014.

2. “People get built different. We don’t have to understand it, we just gotta respect it”

3. The entirety of All The Little People. That shit was absolutely nuts for a kids show but also like…. I can’t articulate the lesson I just know there was one and it haunted me. The danger of the human ego. Hubris. Irreverence. Don’t play god bro.

4. Lady and Peebles. When PB ripped Ricardio’s leg off and bashed his skull in with it. And it was so hardcore they edited it out of the episode. Bro. I remember watching that after school one day and how my jaw just DROPPED at a PRINCESS being so brutal. They let her be so fucking angry and that was a game changer.

5. [Finn, about a horrific memory] “that one’s going in the vault. Aaaaaaaaaandd. It’s gone.” I quote that CONSTANTLY. It’s a great way to bring levity to a bad situation, but also forces me to go “hey wait a sec that’s not gonna work forever”. Things don’t stay in the vault.

6. Puhoy. He lived an entire life in that pillow world. He had kids. And then it’s just gone like a dream.

7. The deer. It was probably my first real introduction to horror. The hand wiggle. You all know exactly what I’m referencing. Were the candy people stuck in that well for 6 months???

8. What Was Missing!! Obviously now because it foreshadowed (and confirmed past) Bubbline, but back then just because it was so good??? IMO, this is the episode that defined WHO our main cast was, and how their relationships needed to grow for them to be content. It set up the next 6 years of the show! Plus it gave us 2 absolute BANGERS. Ugh i rewatched that recording so many times it wasn’t even funny.

9. Ghost Princess. Really just for the line where he sounds like he’s gonna shit his pants remembering his death and then in a clear narrator voice he’s like “I was a broken man.”

10. The pajama war episode. Now I’m doing this from memory so I could be wrong, but I think this really marks the start of Finn growing up. “I’ve really enjoyed just… hanging out with you.” The ability to start over with someone you’ve got complicated history with. The kindness. The growth from both of them!! It’s a direct parallel of episode 1 but their tones couldn’t be more different and I love it.

11. The slow and horrifying realization that The Mushroom War was nuclear Armageddon. Mushroom clouds. That went so far over my head as a kid even though they reference it constantly. It finally clicked during “I remember you”. Which I am NOT gonna go into because holy fuck that’s like 18 posts on its own.

12. Goliad! A child mirroring EVERYTHING they see, for better or worse. Seeing Jake in a bad moment screaming at the kids and goliad absorbing that behavior. Seeing she can use fear to control people. Also PB was Fucking Crazy! Her line “I’m not gonna live forever… I would if I could” is even more unhinged when we learn (like years later) that she’s already 900 years old. But she does physically age so I guess there’s that. The Suitor also falls into this category of episodes.

Ok getting into some of the more talked about moments

1. OK I LIED I have to talk about I remember you. I was 11 years old. I turned on the new adventure time episode like usual. 10 minutes later I was grappling with a grief I had never imagined before. Absolutely BAWLING not just for Simon and Marceline (the PLOT), but for what it showed me. The reality that every kid tries not to think about: your loved ones will leave you someday, even if they don’t want to. It’s an episode that becomes more powerful with every year I get older. To get a bit personal, dementia has completely taken my grandparents from me. I’ve seen sides of my grandfather that should never have existed, and I must constantly forgive him for what he does… now that he doesn’t remember me. And someday it’ll be my parents. That’s just the way of the world, ya know? Anyways, I remember my mom got home right as the credits were rolling and we had a long talk about keeping people alive with memory, mortality, and how the future was far away and we should decide on dinner lmao.

2. The Hall of Egress. I was almost 15. Life was changing. I was changing, and it was strange and frightening. That feeling where you know you’re losing your childhood but you just want to cling to it. Follow the same old familiar path, stick with what’s comfortable. But life doesn’t work that way. It took me years to really understand this episode and it’s symbolism. Honestly I still don’t think I could fully explain it. It’s like. How do I put this. I was so glad to be in the target age group in that moment. I was so glad that something I was growing up with was assuring me “you’re changing, but we’re changing too”. And isn’t that the theme of adventure time? Everything stays, but it still changes.

3. The absolute horror of Ferns existence. He’s Finn, but he’s wrong and warped. All those memories of the people he loves and they can’t stand to be in the same room as him.

4. Susan Strong. The introduction of a RUNNING PLOT. The show up to that point had really been so goofy and so monster of the week. I think the only really plot heavy episode before this one was It Came From the Nightosphere? And then suddenly they call into question the fact that Finn really is the ONLY HUMAN in all of OOO. And then… is he? It was SUCH a departure from the usual tone. Ending that episode with him reaching below her hat and gasping in shock, but never telling the audience what he found. And then she’s just gone. Which leads us to Islands!

5. Min and Marty. Second saddest episode in the entirety of adventure time, made worse because you know exactly how this family is gonna end up. There’s SO MUCH to dissect about Martins behavior in the series. A reformed con artist receives a traumatic brain injury while attempting to save his son. They’re both lost at sea, and he never looks for him. Was it the emotional trauma? Was it the physical damage? Meanwhile a mother loses her husband and her child in a single night and never EVER learns why. Nobody but Martin knows what happened that night. Also Finns fear of the ocean from season 1 is finally explained. 7 years of ignoring Finns origins and then they throw you THIS??? Watching it live was unreal.

Anyways I’m sure I’ll think of more. I might add on to this later for my own sake lmao, but I’d love to hear other peoples formative moments, quotes, episodes, etc. I really just needed to dump this information out of my brain so I can get on with my week.

#If you see this you’re obligated to comment an adventure time moment that lives rent free in your head #or don’t it’s your life babe #I have nobody in my life who has watched adventure time and therefore I must ramble here to myself #adventure time #princess bubblegum #marceline #ice king #finn the human #fern #Fionna and cake #this is my life #bubbline

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distinguishedstudentfishalien · 2 months

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AHHH ok, let's talk about Lucifer and Alastor

I've been reading a lot of reactions to Hazbin: from the gushers who think the show is perfect to the hyper-critical who hate the show, the creator, and everything in between. I don't fall into any of those categories. I had a lot of fun watching it, but there were some things I liked, and some others I didn't. You know, as it's usually the case with any piece of media one interacts with.

I love reading other people's opinions. It makes me pay more attention to things I might have missed. BUT for Hazbin, most of the criticism I've seen boils down to two things: either "I, personally, didn't like it, so that means it's bad" which is not the hot take people seem to think it is, or just lack of media literacy.

I won't go over all the examples of that last point (there are plenty), but one example people are using to criticize the show --which I can't seem to get out of my head so now I have to write about it-- it's how out of left field it was for Alastor to think of himself as a father figure to Charlie.

My guys and guysettes, that's because he doesn't.

He does it to piss off Lucifer, because he doesn't like him. That's it.

"But they just met, why doesn't he like him?" I don't know! but let's go over some examples, shall we?

In the first episode, during Alastor's TV ad, we see a picture of the hotel, clearly drawn by him. I ask you to look to the bottom left where it says "No tacky circus decor! I promise"

Do we know what he is referring to? Sure we do! the ring circus master himself! Lucifer Morningstar, whose whole schtick is circus-related. Clearly, Alastor is not a fan.

When Lucifer arrives to the hotel, did anybody catch Alastor's first reaction? (besides calling him short to his face, ofc)

Do you see that trembling eye? He is PISSED. Why? Who the hell knows! But he clearly does not care for the King of Hell himself (if you force me to give you my opinion on this, I think it's because of Alastor's delusions of grandeur, and plain-ole narcissism, but that is a conversation for another post, if I ever gather enough energy to write it)

He introduces himself and immediately does this. R-U-D-E.

Now, let's talk about the song itself, which, again, is clearly just an attempt to piss off Lucifer and not really about Charlie. At all.

He only cares about Lucifer's reactions. Because he is not being HONEST. We can all see that? right?? I mean, it is pretty FREAKING obvious. He is just trying to get a rise out of Lucifer.

And now, the moment we were all waiting for, the infamous "call me dad" moment.

Which had nothing to do with Charlie, and it was just another example of Alastor being the most annoying bastard alive. He is not even looking at her! He is staring Lucifer dead in the eye and saying "piss off shortie".

Why? Again, I dunno. Your guess is as good as mine. I hope we'll get the answer in season 2, because immediate animosity against the King of Hell himself is something I need some context for. Is it funny? Absolutely! I love that song! The violin solo? PURE GOLD (he he)

But for the love of Christ and the Antichrist, please stop thinking of "Alastor thinks of himself as Charlie's dad out of nowhere" as a valid criticism. As some have speculated, Alastor involvement with Charlie will probably have something to do with Alastor's deal and 7-year absence. If it's never explained, then sure, what the heck Vivzie?? please include it on the show!

There are PLENTY of things we could criticize about Hazbin (and people smarter and with more energy than me have done so already). But there are so many examples of "criticism" that are just examples of "I don't know how to interact with media anymore" and I beg of you to do better. This is a tiny example of the show showing and not telling, and some of y'all failed the comprehension test.

It is a fun show, guys. Enjoy it.

TL;DR: Alastor does not think he is Charlie's dad, ffs. He just wanted to piss off Lucifer.

#and NO #he is NOT jealous #I do not ship Alstor and Charlie #she has a girlfiend #he is an ace in the hole or whatever it is that Rosie said #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #my beloved #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie

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tasteofthedivine93 · 26 days

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Into You (18+) 🌶️🌶️- COD Fanfic

TasteOfTheDivine // Masterlist

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54933550 Rating: Mature 18+ (MDNI) Category: F/M // F/M/M Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games) Relationships: John Price (Call of Duty)/Reader // John "Soap" Mactavish/Reader // John "Soap" Mactavish/John Price/Reader Additional Tags:

Warnings: None Words: 10,377

Summary:

You confess to your boyfriend Johnny that out of his friends, you'd let his Captain, John Price be your one to choose to look after you if anything happens to Johnny. Johnny decides to invite Price over to see if he's worth his girlfriend and if you're happy with your choice.

Notes:

I've been working on this fic for months. I also love Soap and Price very much equally so this is an indulgent fantasy for me. Maybe make a part 2 if I'm feeling it in the future?

Running up to the front door of your house rain beats down heavily around you. Droplets of water drip down your nose and off the ends of your ponytail and down your back, workout clothes sticking to your skin. You feel a puddle splash up your leg and you groan in frustration. The weather app said it wouldn’t rain till the middle of the evening, so you decided to go on your daily run early - unfortunately to be caught in the rainstorm. You cut your path short and decided to head home.

Slamming the door shut behind you, you let out a few pants at the change of temperature, you didn’t realise your skin was cold from the rain absorbing your body heat. You shout into the house for your boyfriend; “Johnny?”

“In here,” his voice echoes from the living room.

“God, I’m soaking wet,” you shout from the hall, “and not the good kind of wet.” You chuckle to yourself. Shaking your head, more drops fall to the floor, toeing off your damp running shoes. You pad your way into the living room, a smile plastered on your face and your eyes meet another pair of blue orbs. Price. Johnny’s Captain.

In a surprise, you stop in your tracks and place a hand on your décolletage. “PRICE!” You yell a little louder than you intended, but his presence shocked you. Normally Johnny would warn you of a company coming over, be it Kyle or Simon.

You hadn’t seen Price for months, yet he looked the same, still beaming masculine energy. His beard is a little unkempt, no bags under his eyes but he is still rugged and handsome.

You hadn’t even really thought of Price of late, since Soap had been on an extended leave. The last time you feel you could recall was a few months back when you and Soap got very drunk and played “confessions” with each other. Naturally, you turned the game into something sexual and wanted to make your boyfriend just a smidgen bit jealous.

****

“Okay” your speech was starting to slur. You took another sip of your rum and coke. “My go, and this one is… gonna be interesting.” You bat your lashes at Johnny playfully with a smirk on your face but you giggle it away.

“Oh, this sounds fun” He smiles back at you, eyes dilating a little.

“If I had to pick one of your friends… to … yaknow… sleep with… then I’d pick…” You feel a blush creep up your neck. Soap remains perfectly still, holding a strong poker face. You can see the cogs in his mind turning and turning.

He smirks at you. “You’d pick Price.”

Opening your eyes wide and biting your lip, “How did you guess?”

His eyes never leave yours. “Really?” He replies, his voice a little deeper than before. “I believe the striking blue eyes kink you have gives it away.”

“It’s not a kink, it’s a preference.” You pout.

“Price, huh?” He rumbles deep, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“I mean…” you begin but trail off. Blushing and looking at the glass in your lap. “Only if it was life or death… which would never happen…” you mutter, worried you’d upset Soap. “Or like if you need someone to look after me… someone you trust.”

He looks away from you, the dim light of the lamp in the corner of the room casting sharp shadows across his face, making him look menacing for a split second.

“Not upset you, have I?” your eyebrows arch upwards, a coldness shivers down your spine.

He turns to face you, leaning closer and planting a kiss on your cheek. He stored that information away somewhere in his brain to remember even when sober.

“I’m not upset,” he replies as if he was reading your mind, “Mine would be ‘Busty-Rachel’ as you call her…” he chuckles and you gasp.

“OH FUCK YOU!” You laugh while smacking him on the shoulder.

****

You let in the breath you just lost and feel a small blush on your cheeks, embarrassed by your crude comment. “I’m sorry about that, that was…” you trail off, letting out a small sigh.

“It’s alright love, it’s good to see you again.” he smiles at you, eyes crinkling at the edges and clasping his hands on his lap as he reclines back into a more casual position. You smile back timidly while running your hand through your wet ponytail and finally turning your attention to Soap.

“Hey, sweetie, everything okay?” you lean down and give him a peck on his stubbled cheek. He reaches out and grabs your hand and pulls you sharply onto the sofa next to him. He returns the kiss, his lips soft and warm against your cold and damp cheek.

“Of course,” he said with a slight twang in his voice, and he never gets nervous. “I’m just gonna jump straight to it.” He shifts in his seat, squeezing your hand as if you signal to you everything is okay but he’s unsure how you’d react. You feel your heart jump, your blood pumping harder in your veins, and your throat closes a little. You start to think the worst, that maybe he’s trying to dampen the blow of some news you wouldn’t like - such as a 6 month to year mission or change of location.

“Oh, no, is it bad?” You blurt out as soon as Soap starts to speak. He smiles at you but his lips tremble and lets out a nervous laugh while squeezing your hand.

“No, no sweetie, it’s nothin’ to do with work, that’s all good. It’s something else… a proposition.” He glances at you and you drop your shoulders in relief.

“A few months back you…” you start, looking at Price for a second and then back to you. “A few months back, you mentioned something about Capt- Price.” He clears his throat, and you feel his and grow warm in yours. You tilt your head confused.

“I did?” You question, eyes flicking to the man opposite your living room.

Soap nods silently.

“Aye, you did. And I’ve been thinking about it… a lot.” He confesses, bowing his head to hide his rosy cheeks. “And one night out with the lads, I might have, let it slip…” he trails off.

Out the corner of your eye, you see Price shift in his seat, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his legs. He lets out a cough to draw attention to himself, both your heads face the older man.

“What he’s trying to say, love, is that he told me, about your little ‘confession’”, he smirks at you, you feel something in the air shift and you feel very exposed right now. “And I’m truly honoured you’d want me to be your… support system. But only with Soaps approval.”

You feel your eyebrows rise in confusion, eyes darting between the two men. You part your lips slightly and feel a small breath escape your lungs. A flash of heat bursts from your core with a mixture of acknowledgement and embarrassment - knowing exactly what they’re talking about.

Oh.

You snap your head back to face Soap and lean towards his ear, whispering. ‘My “Life or Death choice?!” You hiss at him. “You TOLD him?!” You try and pull your hand from his but he places a death grip on your fingers, not wanting you to leave.

“It wasn’t done to upset you, lass, it just slipped out.” He looks up at you with puppy-dog eyes, blues shimmering and melting your soul. You knew you couldn’t stay mad at him when he pulled the “Puss-in-Boots” card at you.

“So why is…” You point at Price, still sitting stoically in the chair, hands gripping the armrests in a death grip watching you have your little freakout.

“Little Johnny here wants you to have a test run… And I honestly couldn’t say no.”

“Why?”

“Have you not seen yourself, love?”

“Really?” You blush at the compliment.

“Yes, love. A test-run. See if I am suitable to… care for your needs if I’m required.” His moustache twitches.

“Johnny, he’s joking, right? You’re joking, right?” You feel your stomach burn with embarrassment but also a little desire. You look between the two men who just stare at you like you’re acting foolish.

“I mean, what if something does happen - I want you to be cared for, satisfied… and I thought you’d like it.” Soap confesses.

Your jaw becomes slack, you know you’re sporting that “adorable but very confused” look on your face right now. You honestly feel as if your brain has fried, melted and poured out of your ears.

You didn’t expect your evening to go in this direction.

“I don't… want to cheat on you, Johnny.”

He lets out a chuckle, “It's not really cheating…” he begins, now himself letting out a nervous laugh and dropping his gaze from yours to stare at the ground. A small blush formed on his cheeks.

“What do you… mean?” You question, genuinely confused, tilting your head. You feel your heart skip a beat.

“You think I’d leave him alone with you at first? Heck no. I’ll be there with you… both.” He whispers the last word. A threesome? You both have brought up that question a few times in the bedroom but thought it was just flirting and something to fan the flames. Not thinking you’d do it, but also you’d thought the first time would be with another woman, not… a man. Let alone Price. His Captain. “I mean, gotta make sure he’ll treat you right.”

You stare at Johnny, slack jawed and mouth becoming dry.

“I know your porn history,” he whispers into your ear. You blush deep red. Both of you are open to pornography, sure you both have photos and videos of each other solo and together for when Soap is away, but you both understand it’s sometimes not enough. You both are open about your kinks with each other. You trust each other wholeheartedly. He’s seen the searches, lesbian, threesome… tentacles was the one that made him confused but he didn’t judge.

“Big burly men, fucking a sweet little thing, eating her out, spit-roasting her.” His breath on your ear was hot, he trailed his finger up your spine, making you shiver.

“It's all about you, sweetheart, we both want you to be… centre of attention.” Price looks you up and down like a lion ready to pounce on its prey.

Soap chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m too jealous too much to fully give you to someone else while I’m still here.” Plus, you know, that the bond the 141 have somewhat overshadows your relationship with him, having near-death experiences solidifies a core connection.

“Won’t do anything you don’t want to, love.” Price smirks. “Say the word and I’ll leave right now and we’ll never speak of it again.” He smiles that cheeky grin you’ve seen him do a few times when trying to persuade someone to do something. Lines form around his eyes, showing his maturity and age. You feel a tingle down your spine.

“I… I um…” You stutter, completely lost for words. Your eyes darting again between the men. You speak the first thing that pops into your mind. “Would it happen now? Tonight?” You panicked.

Price lets out a huff from his nose, his signature move. “I’m a busy man, love. Yes, it’s tonight.”

“We thought it would be best to… drop it on ya’. So you wouldn’t overthink it and change your mind.” Soap squeezes your hand again, god it’s annoying how well he knows your mind. You glare at him, hating how he knows you too well sometimes.

“I… “ you look between the men again, biting your lip and blushing. “Okay, yes.” You nod. “But no ass stuff.”

Price raises his hands as if to say ‘fine with me’ and Soap nods, smirking. You don’t see it, but Soap signals at Price with his finger and thumb nearly touching as if to say ‘just a little bit’, making Price huff out a small laugh.

“I'm going to shower, I’ll see you both in the bedroom soon - you can… plan things.” You stand up quickly and without looking at them you leave - you thought if you see their sparkling blue eyes piercing you then you might overthink it again.

Bouncing up upstairs, you make a b-line straight into the bathroom, you stare at yourself in the mirror, planting your hands on the countertop and breathing in deeply. Your heart is beating so hard that the vein in your neck is thumping. It's just sex. You think to yourself.

He’s not your Captain, you can let Soap deal with his consequences and awkwardness later. Fleeting thoughts pass over your head about how close the team has been in the past. Long cold winters in the Russian tundra, months such in Rainforests and scorching deserts. It can be a lonely time.

You shake your head at your fantasies and turn on the shower, jumping in while the water is still a little cold to wake yourself up. A quick shave and use of your expensive body wash.

Once out, you gently pat yourself down and are thankful you keep some underwear and a bralette hidden for a surprise for Johnny. Now seems to be the best time for it.

You slip on the red lace, the tone compliments your skin well. The fabric is just sheer enough to see your nipples already peaking to attention. You fluff up your hair and put on a small bit of mascara and tinted lip balm.

Taking in another breath, you grab your silk robe and slip it around you, tying the belt into a loose knot. You exit the room, steam trailing behind you and slowly head to your bedroom door. You hesitate before pushing the door wide open to see Johnny on the bed in nothing but his underwear and Price the same but lounging in the chair in the corner - the pair of them turn to look at you when they hear the door squeak.

Eyes flit between the two men, taking in their muscles, their near nakedness. Price had much more chest hair than Johnny but both a somewhat similar build, however Price has smaller arms and a much slimmer waist than Johnny. Both their eyes look you up and down, you stand in the doorway nervously, playing with the silk belt between your fingertips.

Johnny can sense your nerves and pats the bed next to him and then offers an open palm to you. Skirting around the bed you take his hand and sit down, nervously smiling at Price… John, you should say, less formal.

Johnny leans over and kisses your cheek, squeezing your hand.

“Anytime you want to stop, just use the safeword, yeah?” He raises his eyebrows waiting for your confirmation.

You nod, “Yeah, it’s peaches.”

You hear Price huff out his nose and question; “Why ‘peaches’?” he asks trying to calm the tension in the air.

“Oh, it’s a long story…” you smile at him and he just nods in return. Price stands from his seat and walks over to you, he cups your chin in his hand and tilts you to look up at him, his slightly taller stature shadows over you. Your eyes glide over his small stomach pudge, his pecs, up to meet his once blue eyes now blown out and black with desire. You swallow. Your heart is beating so hard in your chest you could probably see your chest muscle pulse.

“It’s all about you, love, don’t be scared to speak up, tell us what to do, what not to do.” He confirms, running his thumb over your bottom lip. His voice was so low and deep it vibrated into your core, you felt yourself already getting wet. “Also, I want to hear you… don’t be shy.” He smirks.

“Don’t worry, sir, we’ve had the neighbours complain before.” Johnny chuckles to himself, pushing your hair away from your shoulder and kissing the curve where your neck meets your shoulder. Closing your eyes, feel your cheeks flush at your boyfriend's confession, slightly embarrassed but forgiven from his delicate kisses.

Price toys with the seam of your lip, daring to push his thumb further into your mouth. He tilts his head at you, watching Soap kiss your neck, you already let out a few grunts of approval.

“Can I kiss you?” Price asks softly.

Your eyes snap open and you nod, standing up. Johnny whines at the loss of contact from you but hand still holding yours.

Standing still, Price moves his hand to cup your cheek and leans down to take your lips in his. It was a gentle kiss, his lips were soft but his beard tickled, more than Johnnys, it reminded you of when Johnny came back from a longer mission with an overgrown mohawk and rugged beard to match - you demanded he didn’t shave it off straight away, you liked the way it tickled your inner thighs. That thought alone caused a moan to escape your throat into the kiss, more wetness pooling into your lingerie.

You hear the sound of bed sheets rustling and two strong hands snake around your waist, Johnny knelt on the bed behind you, pressing himself against the curve of your ass - you could feel his semi-hard erection already. You smile into the kiss with Price at how you easily turn your boyfriend on. You press your ass into him a little and you hear him grunt at the pleasure.

Johnny cups your tit over your dressing gown, kneading softly, fingers gliding over your nipple. Price pulls away from the kiss first and presses his forehead against yours for a moment - a somewhat romantic gesture that makes your stomach flutter. But you knew it was him offering trust.

He steps away from you slightly;

“May I?” he asks while fingering the silk belt, you nod and Soap removes his hands from you.

The robe opens slowly and Johnny grabs the fabric at the shoulders, draping it slowly off your skin, exposing you.

Price stares at your body and you swear you see his cock twitch in his underwear, slowly growing harder, you feel slightly shy and you move your arms to cover yourself but feel resistance from Johnny holding you back. He leans closer to you, his radiating heat on your back soothes you, lips pressing against your ear.

“No, lass, now isn’t the time to be shy.” His lips kiss the shell of your ear, moving back down your neck to your shoulder. He gently grinds into your ass, letting out a groan at the pleasurable pressure on his cock.

Biting your lip, you look up at the stoic man in front of you, he balls his hands into fists for a moment as if stopping himself from ravaging you, holding himself back. Instead, he lets his shoulders drop and reaches out to you - his fingers gently glide over your waist, your hip, over the smooth red fabric, he toys with the strap between his fingers, pulling it from your skin and letting it go - it snaps against your skin making you squeak. Johnny laughs into your neck.

“You look perfect.” Price compliments and you feel your stomach flutter again.

Johnny returns to kissing the apex between your shoulder and neck, you let your head loll to the side, closing your eyes and exposing more of the flesh to him and he grinds into you. You feel a hand drawing lines over your stomach and down toward your core. Price gently cups your cunt, letting his finger trail over your clit, you let out a moan at the touch.

You feel a gentle pull on your arms, Johnny pulls you away from Price’s touch back to the bed. “Let's get you comfy, pet.” He strokes up and down your arm, comforting you. You turn onto your knees to crawl up the bed but find yourself unable to move, two large callused hands grab onto your hips. Price pulls your bent over ass toward his groin and grinds into you.

“Sorry love, just needed you know what you do to me… us” he corrects himself. You bite your lip at the praise and continue up towards the pillow and lie back down. Johnny lies on your right and Price comes to lie on your left. The warmth of them both is making your head swim, the anticipation of their next moves and the night's activities make you shudder at the thought alone.

You hear Price let you a chuckle and carefully strokes his hand up your inner thigh, parting your legs already. You turn to look at Johnny, once blue eyes blown out from lust and the dusk of the room, you lean towards him and take his lips in yours. He cups your face and lets his tongue slowly drag over your lower lip, requesting an invitation. As you push more into the kiss, you feel Price’s fingers back on your cunt, you’re not fully wet yet but know you’ll be there soon enough. You gasp into Johnny's mouth at the foreign touch. He pulls away from your mouth to trail kisses over your cheek, down your jaw, your shoulders and down towards your breasts.

“Red is a good colour on you, love.” He mutters as he lets his lips drag over the red lace cup of your bra. He kisses the mound before seeking out your slightly exposed nipple, taking the encased bud into his mouth. You moan out his name and close your eyes for a moment at the increasing pleasure already growing in your stomach.

You feel that tonight might be a bit of a playful battle between the two men, who can get you wettest, who will make you cum the most, who you’ll want to be on top and who below. Nothing vindictive, a bit of fun to add to the evening, but still a reminder of how they’re here for you and you’re the centre of their worlds right now.

Price leans over and places a kiss on your cheek, you turn your head and catch his equally blown out eyes. You kiss him slowly, matching Johnny’s movement and letting his tongue snake into your mouth. He added more pressure to your cunt, you feel yourself soaking through your thin panties now.

Feeling a hand snake around your back, you feel Johnny undo your bra and gently pull it away from your body exposing your breasts, nipples at attention. He continues to lap at the skin, sucking you into his mouth and letting little moans escape your mouth. Price in return gently pulls your knickers to the side, exposing your wet cunt to the air of the room and without pause, runs his digit between your folds, already teasing your hole.

You sharply pull away from Price’s soft lips, sucking in a breath. You rest your forehead on his cheek and pant onto his beard at his touch.

“Fuck,” is all you can speak, causing Johnny to snap open his eyes and look at you through his lashes, still lapping at your nipple. He takes his free hand and pinches the other between his fingers. You feel so sensitive all over and you gasp at Johnny’s gentle nipping and pinching.

Price tries to one up Johnny and moves to give your clit the much needed attention, you jerk your hips, hissing between your teeth.

“Feel good, love?” He rumbles, you nod as you breathe in hard and fast. He picks up the pace a little as he circles your clit faster and faster. Johnny kisses around your breasts and back up your neck, he tilts you away from Price and nips at your lower lip. Invading your mouth again with his tongue, he draws another moan from you.

Pulling away, he replaces his lips with his thumb and gently pushes the digit past your swollen lips and presses against your tongue. You start to gently suck, matching the speed of Price on your clit. Johnny lets out a grunt, grinding his erection into your thigh.

“How about you use that pretty mouth of yours on me and let’s see if Price can use that tongue of his just as good as me?” Johnny asks so deep and low it vibrates in your chest. “You taste so perfect, lass, it’s rude to not share.” Opening your eyes that you swear roll into the back of your head and nod at him and turn to look at Price, eyes already half closed and you’ve not even cum yet.

Johnny was the first to strip fully naked, kneeling next to you on the bed, he throws his underwear somewhere in the room and you’re met with his leaking red cock in your face. That’s one of the things you love about your Johnny, it’s brass enthusiasm and openness. You feel your heart skip a beat when you stare at his broad figure for the millionth time - but still makes you flush and bite your bottom lip.

Price meanwhile moves down the bed, planting kisses down your stomach, hips and mound. Finally slotting himself between your thighs.

“You smell so sweet,” He grunts as presses himself into the bed, relieving some of the pressure in his cock. “You still sure, sweetheart?” He asks again as his fingers toy with the hem of your panties, already pulling them down over your hips.

“Ye-yes”' you breathe out, his warm breath feels like heaven on your clothed cunt. Johnny goes down on you all the time, he’s like a man starved, eating you out like it’s his last meal. You feel like Price will take his time, draw out your first orgasm until it's painful. You take in a breath and feel him pull the thin material from your body. Parting your legs, he kisses the hot and sensitive flesh of your inner thighs and he hooks your knees over his shoulders. He looks at your glistening folds, smirking at himself.

“Can’t say I’ve never thought of this pretty cunt, sweetheart.” His ocean blue eyes are blown out as he glances up at you. You see lust and passion in his eyes, something you thought you’d never see from anyone except Johnny. Teasing you, Price kisses all around your thighs, over your mound and everywhere except on your cunt.

Meanwhile, Johnny snapped his vision away from the man slotted between your thighs and stroked the back of your hair, slowly inching his cock closer to your mouth. Your eyes flick to the swollen and already dripping head - you lick it away with the tip of your tongue, tasting his salty cum. He lets out a small whimper, he’s felt your tongue countless times before but it always leaves him weak at the knees when he feels you on his throbbing cock. You reach and take hold of the shaft, pumping him a few times.

Johnny grips the back of your head, tangling your hair between his fingers. He gives you a gentle tug, tilting your head back. You grin at the pain-pleasure and continue to pump down his thick shaft as he inches closer to your mouth.

Price though, demands your attention and nips at the tender flesh of your inner thigh. You let out a small hiss at the sensation and met his eyes again, still pumping Johnny. His beard tickles you more than Johnnys and you feel your legs start to close from the feeling. Price lets out a primal grunt and pushes you open, exposing your wet cunt to him more.

His fingers squeeze into the muscles, eyes still locked on yours he takes a long and slow swipe up your folds and lets the tip flick your clit. Your hips buck already and you’ve only just got started. Johnny groans at the same time as you as the flick on your clit causes you to squeeze harder on Johnny's member and he in return tugs at your scalp.

Your brain reminds you again that tonight is going to be a battle for your attention and you’re not sure how to handle it. Part of you wants to be dominating, telling the men off and explain to them that they are to share you. However you worried that would sound too demanding. Another side of you wants to watch them fight for your attention by playing with you more. Your brain was fuzzy from lust and desire you couldn’t choose.

You shake away those thoughts.

Warmth envelopes your wet folds as Price laps at you, drinking you in. His tongue was fast, tiny flicks cause your clit to pulsate and you already start to feel your first orgasm building. You let out a moan. Price smirks at each little whimper you make. He uses the flat of his tongue to lick up your seam, he pulls back the hood on your clit to expose your sensitive bud more. He attaches himself to it and sucks, hard.

Hips buck under the change of sensation and you let out a sharp squeak. You feel Johnny’s cock twitch at the delicious sound.

“Jesus, fuck,” you mutter out as you watch Price’s cheeks hollow. You feel engorged and swollen. He pops off you and your clit is hard pink and twitching. A small line of sweat beads on your brow. It’s only the first act and you’re already putty in his hands. His eyes meet yours again, he kisses you softly, but eclectic shocks still strike your core. Without thinking, your spare hand comes flying up to your breast, you knead at the soft flesh and pinch your own nipple.

Johnny besides you lets out a groan as you squeeze him harder at your reaction. Coming back to earth you refocus yourself on your boyfriend.

Half lidded eyes meet him and you lean to take his swollen head into your mouth. He hisses at the temperature change. Already you can feel him pushing your head further down his shaft but you resist. You let your tongue swirl around the head tasting the tang of his pre-cum on the back of your tongue.

Price continues to lap at your sex, mixing between long and slow flicks, using every inch of his tongue to draw you closer to your orgasm. The first of many tonight. He teases your hole with the tip of his tongue, drinking you down. With your free hand, you entangle your fingers into Price’s hair, pushing him further into your cunt. You try to match his movements with your own on Johnny's cock, but he seems to have his own ideas. You feel his hips slowly start to rock as he fucks your mouth, the tip getting closer to the back of your throat.

You let out a groan in protest that vibrates straight down his shaft and he moans in return. You feel Price smirk against your cunt and you open your eyes to catch him staring at you both. His cheeks are flushed and you feel his fingers dig into your thighs at the sight of you with a cock in your mouth. Planting your palms on Johnny's slender hips, you try to stop him from going too far down your throat - compensating you start to bob your head a little faster, swirling your tongue with fervour.

“Enjoying yourself, love?” You hear Price ask as he pulls one hand away from your thighs and tenderly swipes a digit through your slick. You feel the digit rest against your hole, gently poking in and out as if he’s requesting permission.

You give yourself a moment and pull off Johnny's cock with a pop, a string of spit still attaching you both. You pant, gasping for breath and you nod - before your brain could even register, Price penetrates you with his finger. You clamp down already on the intrusion and let out a breathy “fuck”.

He chuckles as returns his attention to your clit, helping you relax as he curves into your sensitive spot. The pressure causing you to arch your back a little, eyes rolling into the back of your skull from the pleasure. You feel Johnny's hand cup the back of your head again, gently stroking your hair as his chest bursts with lust at the sight of you in pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful when blissed out, lass.” He bends down and kisses your parted lips, a few gentle kisses before letting his tongue swipe your lower lip, requesting entry. You let your jaw loosen and let his tongue swirl around yours as he tastes himself on you. You feel your hand trial up and down his abs, nails scraping at the sensitive skin. Johnny shudders at the sensation.

Price looks up at the two of you in your passionate kiss and feels that pang in his stomach - that doubt that he should be here. Instead he tries to regain your attention and inserts another finger into your dripping hole. He hears you groan at the stretch. Feeling brave, he inserts another and curves all three against your clenching walls and presses upwards hard. He feels your thighs shake at the sensation and he keeps rubbing that tender spot.

You pull away from Johnny's kiss and let out a breathy moan into his mouth, you feel yourself gripping at the bedsheet as Price brings you closer and closer to your first orgasm. Looking down at him, he locks eyes with yours and starts to lap at your engorged clit. You suck in your lower lip, biting the skin hard enough to draw blood as the coil in your stomach pulls tighter and tighter. Your hand still entangled in Price’s hair, you tug hard at the strands, causing him to groan into your cunt. You feel Johnny press a kiss into your shoulder, rising his head to your ear he whispers deep; “Com’on, lass, I wanna see you cum on the Caps fingers.” The warmth on the shell of your ear tickled but his words went straight to your core, causing you to finally snap as Price continues to gently pump his strong fingers in and out of you.

Finally after a few more pumps and a last lick to your clit you snap, orgasm washing over every inch of your skin. You pant out a moan, throat tightening as Price doesn’t slow down, he continues to overstimulate you and keep your orgasm going for as long as possible. He attaches his mouth to your mound, sucking at your clit, he removes his fingers and wraps his hands around your thighs, holding to his face. He’s worried he’ll leave bruises but he also wants to leave a mark for you to remember him by.

You shake your head, you try to protest but he’s a man on a mission. You try and wiggle away from him, pulling at his hair, as he continues to suck and lick at your sensitive bud but Johnny holds you down. Price just grunts at you, still lapping till you twitch and your legs start to shake. You lock eyes with your lover, you see Johnny stroking himself, more pre-cum drips from the tip. Johnny loves to watch you cum, even if it's not from his own hands, mouth or cock. The numerous videos he has of you on his phone and midnight calls must have given him a kink. He loves your noises, your squeaks, your moans. All those lonely nights in the abandoned safe houses or on base where he’s got only his hand and your videos.

“Just one more, you can do it.” He strokes himself faster now, tangling his spare hand into your hair more. He grips at your scalp and tugs, causing your head to jolt back. The pain-pleasure causing you to gasp. As if like a switch, you cum again, slick pouring from your hole and your body shakes. Price looks up at you, breathing heavy through his nose as he draws out the second orgasm to completion. His cheeks are flushed red as he grinds into the bed trying to relieve the intense strain his cock is under.

Johnny watches as you twitch and convulse in your orgasm, he lets out a shaky “fuck” and climaxes himself as well. Strings of thick cum spurt over your breasts and collarbone. He tugs harder at your hair as he strokes the last few drops from the tip, you groan at the pain. He lets go of your hair and gives you a quick peck on the lips, his cock slowly softening in his palm.

You look down at Price who finally removes himself from your molten core - strings of spit and slick still connect the two of you. He pants into your pussy, licking his lips. His beard is soaked. You bite your lip at him and smile as your afterglow sends buckets of dopamine through your bloodstream.

“Fucking hell, Price.” You breathe out. He rests his forehead against your inner thigh, taking in deep breaths. You reach down and stroke your fingers through his hair, soothing the man. You let your nails rake his scalp and he lets out a moan. As you continue to say wordless thanks to Price, Johnny takes out a tissue from the strategically placed box on the nightstand and wipes away his spend from your chest. You let your head flop back onto the pillow for a moment as you bathe in your afterglow.

Price lets out a chuckle; “Does John ever get you to cum twice like that?” he tilts his head.

Leaning up on your shaky arms, you purse your lips and cock your head as if to say “not always” but you feel a small smack to your shoulder from Johnny. You let out a laugh, leaning up to kiss Johnny's abs and a quick peck to his softening cock.

Flopping back onto the bed, closing your eyes, you let out a blissful sigh as your bloodstream glows with your afterglow.

“Now now, lass, no time for resting, we gotta give our guest his turn.” Johnny smirks as he looks down at Price and winks at the man. Price can only chuckle at his sergeant's cocky nature. He plants one last kiss to your thigh and slowly sits up onto his knees. His cock straining his boxers, leaving a small patch of damp from the pre-cum that’s soaked through. He palms himself at the sight of you, and you feel yourself blush.

You let your eyes wander his frame again, taking in as much as you can. You whimper at him touching himself, so you sit up on your wobbly knees, becoming face to face (chest) with him. You give him a quick peck on the lips, tasting yourself on him and getting some of your juices on your chin. Letting out a small chuckle, you wipe away the residue and begin to turn to Johnny.

“Johnny-”, before you could finish you feel a cloth on your shoulder. Smiling at him, you turn back to Price and gently brush the fabric on his damp beard, cleaning him up. A small blush grows on his cheeks and you smile at him through half closed eyes. You feel a small burst of something in your stomach and chest again as his blue eyes flit across your face. His hands come up to cup your cheek.

Behind you, Johnny shuffles on the bed and presses his hard chest to your back, wrapping his hands around you and gently cups your breasts, letting his thumbs roll over your sensitive nipples. You let out a moan, letting your head drop back for a moment onto his shoulder. With eyes closed, you feel Price’s hand cup your upper-arm, letting his hands slowly draw down your skin till he holds your hand. Brining it to his lips, he kisses your knuckles tenderly. You blush as the chivalry and smile at him. You turn your head and return the kiss into his palm.

You both gingerly smile at one another.

Price lowers your hand and presses it open on his hairy chest, you can feel his heart beating hard and fast in his ribcage. Eyes meet once again and you feel your own heart flutter. Slowly you follow the trail of hair down his hardened abs, not as defined as Johnny’s but there. Down his stomach that has a small pudge to it, and you graze past the hem of his boxers till you feel his hardened cock.

You palm him, and he lets out a hiss at the pleasure. His other hand, still on your cheek, gently strokes your rouged skin as you gently squeeze him. He’s radiating such heat, your cheeks flush. But also because he feels big… ungodly big under your touch.

Johnny starts to kiss your neck, down the sensitive spot between your neck and shoulders, nipping at the skin. He slowly grinds himself against your ass, still playing with your nipples.

Letting your eyes fall from John’s blue irises. You hook your finger into the band of his boxers and slowly pull down the fabric till it passes over a thick bush of hair and you see the thick base of his cock. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight, and you slowly release more of him till he springs free.

A small bead of pre-cum flicks off the tip onto your stomach.

He’s big. Really big. Bigger than Johnny. You feel your mouth water and you just stare at it. The tip is painfully red, a thick vein runs down the side and it doesn't stand up well - since it’s so heavy.

“John… I can’t…” you begin to protest. But Johnny stops you.

“Yeah, he’s big lass, but you can handle it… can’t you?” He kisses your neck again, this time moving his hands from your breasts down your waist and onto your hips, he knees your flesh, calming you down.

You turn to Johnny. “Did you know he was so…” you trial off.

Price chuckles at your bashfulness. Slowly removing his boxers and throwing them to the floor.

“I’m a ‘shower’, love. Course he knew.” He grins at you, eyes crinkling at the corners. He reaches for your hand that lingers in the air and guides you to his cock, it twitches as it feels the heat of your hand.

You wrap your hand (barely) around him, slowly pumping him. He felt so heavy in your hand, you felt a burst of something in your stomach. Price grunts as you squeeze him, using him pre-cum as lubrication. As you stroke Price a few times, you feel Johnny’s hand snake around your body and down your stomach. Grazing over your small patch of hair till his fingers meet your soaking hot pussy, he swipes over your swollen and puffy clit. You let out a moan and rock your hips on his fingers.

“Greedy thing aren’t ya?” He smirks into your neck, still dotting wet kisses on your warm skin. You nod, humming in reply. His finger parts your folds till he toys with your entrance. He dips just his fingertip into your heat. You feel Price twitch in your hold as he watches Johnny stroke you.

You raise your head from Johnny's shoulder and lock eyes with Price again, who’s staring at you with such intensity it sends a shiver down your spine. You lean forward and kiss him, slowly and tender kisses. You pump him harder and he grunts into your mouth, you feel his hips rock against your hand. Tongues wrap around each other for a moment before he pulls away - noses nearly touching. His once blue eyes now blown out and black with desire.

“How do want me?” He mutters. You shake your head, you don't care how, you just needed him now.

“Anything you want.” You whisper.

“On your knees for me, love.” He rumbles deep and quiet. You nod, you feel a twang of disappointment as you’d love him to press you in half - but knowing the porn you’ve seen, it’s more fair this way for 3 people involved. Johnny peels himself from you and you start to turn around. You slowly drag your hand off Price’s cock, watching it bounce under its own weight.

Johnny moves himself to the head of the bed, repositioning the pillows and leaning back on the headboard, arms spread out wide.

“Gonna give us a show then?” he asks no one in particular, but you do scrunch your face at him as you crawl onto your knees. You still feel weak from your two, very intense, orgasms but carefully you position yourself between your boyfriend's legs. You lean forward and kiss him again, when you feel a small sharp pain on your asscheek as Price spanks you. You let out a small squeak into Johnny's mouth, eyes widening.

You turn to look at John, whose hands are gently caressing your ass, squeezing the muscles.

“Do it again.”

Eyes meet and Price spanks you again. You can feel a small drip of slick run down your folds at the sensation.

“Like that dont’cha?” Price mutters as he swipes his finger through your puffy folds. All you can reply with is a nod of the head. You suddenly feel a sharp sensation now on your nipples as Johnny cups your breasts and tweaks the sensitive buds again - getting your attention back. You whip your head back and look up at him, he removes one of his hands and cups your cheek.You meet his eyes that are filled with… something, you can’t figure out what. You smile at him and mouth “love you” to calm him.

You feel Price’s thick cock now at your entrance, he swipes the shaft up and down your folds, covering him in a healthy coat of slick.

“I’ll go slow love,” he assures you. “Just relax.”

You close your eyes and rest your forehead on Johnny’s abs, breathing in his scent mixed with sweat. You relax as much as you can till you feel the blunt tip of Price pushing into you. The burn wasn’t too bad. You feel Johnny rub his hands up and down your arm and back. Price kneads your hips, thumbs pressing against your lower back.

“You look amazing like this, it’s so hot” he says smirking even though you don’t see it, but you can hear his tone.

Price lets out a grunt, muttering under his breath.

“So tight for me” as he pushes in more, you feel him twitch inside you and brush past your sensitive spots causing your hips to shiver and you let out a shaky moan. “Nearly there.” He assures you. “You’re taking me so well”

You can feel him splitting you open, the sting getting worse as he nearly bottoms out, he’s thicker at the base than his tip and it’s both painful and pleasurable. His hips finally meet your ass. You let out a breath and open your eyes, looking up at Johnny whose jaw is slack, eyes fixated on your ass and the man behind you.

Price stops for a moment, letting you adjust to his incredible girth. However before he can ask if you’re ready, you move on your own accord and start to fuck yourself on his cock. You slowly rock back and forth - his tip pressing against something inside you that makes your toes tingle, a deep moan escapes your lips. Your eyes are still looking up at Johnny. It reminds you of that video you sent him of you fucking a suction-cup dildo in this exact position.

“Fucking hell,” both men say as they can just do nothing except watch you. Price’s fingers press deeper into your hips as he guides you as you rock on him. He lets out a huff as you squeeze around him as you enjoy the fading burn of the stretch of your hole.

With your gaze locked onto Johnny, your jaw falls slack and you let your tongue rest on your bottom lip. He smirks at you and places his thumb in your mouth. You suck hard on the appendage in time with your thrusts onto Price's cock. A small bead of drool escapes past your lips and onto Johnny's stomach, he lets out a small chuckle as he watches you in awe of how easily you’ve taken to the Captain's thick cock and make it your own.

You feel yourself start to slow down as your thighs start to burn.

“Don’t worry love, let me take care of you” Price mutters deep behind you. Before you could respond, he pulls back his hips, leaving only the tip inside you and snaps forward, hips slapping against your ass. He wanted to test the waters with you, see how much you could take. You let out a deep moan around Johnny's thumb, your eyes closing as Price fills you up perfectly. He does it again, the squelching sound of your wet pussy echoes in the room, followed by skin on damp skin. Price’s grip on your hips starts to hurt, but you ignore the pain as he starts to thrust at a more consistent pace.

These army men have patience, stamina, and self-discipline. You thought Johnny was bad, but Price has more experience with holding his own. Johnny is amazing in bed, but easily cums but has the quickest refractory period you’d seen in a man. He’s back to humping you before he’s even gone soft.

You open your eyes, lined with tears. Johnny looks down at you with those puppy dog eyes - you feel bad he’s left out of this. You pull your mouth from his thumb and slowly lower your head till you meet his slowly hardening member. You lick the tip a few times, grabbing the base and slowly ease him into your hot mouth again. Swirling around the tip, he hisses at the over stimulation. Johnny lets his head fall back as he can think of nothing but your talented mouth on him, your moans and the sound of Price fucking you so good. Just as you deserve.

Price has to smirk at the sight in front of him, he feels his cock twitch as he feels himself getting close. He humps you deep and shallow but fast, hitting the edge of your cervix that sends shockwaves from your toes to your nipples. You groan around Johnny's cock at the increased pace.

“Oh I knew you’d like it rough, love.” Hips slap against your ass over and over, you arch your back into that delicious curve and let the tip of Price’s cock pound into that sweet spot over and over. You let Johnny from your mouth with a pop, spit strings connecting you both as you feel your third orgasm slowly grow deeper inside you. Your moans turn into louder groans at each deep thrust.

All you can do is rest your forehead on Johnny’s stomach, squeezing the base of him. Johnny cups the back of your head, stroking your hair as you drool onto his abs.

“God you look so good from this angle,” Johnny runs his hand down your spine, his finger teasing the top of your ass cheeks. His eyes meet Price’s and he raises his eyebrows at the man and nods. Price slows down his thrusts into you and you can feel Johnny’s finger swipe down your ass crack towards your puckered hole. You’re so wet between your legs, he circles the hole a little and Price feels you squeeze his cock on your walls. He lets out a small whimper, hips losing rhythm for a moment at your tightness.

“Johnny… don’t go… in far…” you pant out between thrusts, sure you said no earlier but deep down you know you like the added pressure and pleasure of a tease on your second hole. He lets out a chuckle, with his middle finger he penetrates you, feeling the soft ring of muscles tight on his finger. You clench down all over your pelvic floor, you hear “Fucking hell” from Price and a “Good girl” from Johnny but you also can’t comprehend their words. You're so cock-drunk your brain is mush.

Johnny fingers your ass gently and Price picks up speed again. Your toes start to curl as your orgasm nears the biting point. The added pleasure wasn't enough. You let out a squeak as you feel thick rough fingers rub your clit. A few more thrusts and strokes and you cum hard around Price and Johnny. You clench down hard on Price he thought for a second he wouldn’t be able to pull out of you, your walls flutter and hold him inside you. Johnny quickly removes himself from your pulsating hole and sits back, his other hand still cupping your cheek.

Before you can let your orgasm fade, Price thrusts deep once more, taking in your incredible tightness before pulling out. You whimper at the loss of him, feeling so empty. Grabbing his cock, he jerks himself a few times before cumming over your ass and back. He lets out a breathy groan and you feel the warm ropes of cum on your skin.

You feel like you’ve blacked out. Your brian has turned off and you sit in a bath of dopamine and pleasure as the chemicals swirl in your bloodstream. You try to flop down onto the bed but Johnny’s hands guide you to his side. You feel a tissue on your ass as someone, probably Price, wipes away his spend. Once you feel you have been cleaned up, you roll onto your back, still wrapped in Johnny's arms.

Lying on the bed, chest rising and falling as you take in very deep breaths, you close your eyes for a moment as your afterglow washes over your skin. You feel a rough hand caress your stomach, drawing lines with the finger. You can’t recall who it is, but you smile and giggle from the touch.

“S’tickles” You wiggle. A deep rumble of a laugh vibrates through you as Price pulls his hand from you, he lies on his side facing you, wrapping his arm around your head and you bring up your hand to lace your fingers with his. Opening your eyes slowly, you see him looking down at you as if you’re a piece of priceless art. You feel a pang of something inside, a mixture of lust, admiration, and infatuation, but also concern and guilt for the man.

You wonder for a moment how this will affect Johnny and his relationship, or is that just how it is in the army? You just move on, carpe diem and all that. They didn’t flinch when naked around each other, didn’t even bat an eye at the praise. Makes you wonder what goes on behind closed doors. You shake your head of the thoughts.

“You ready for me?” Johnny asked softly. “I’ll be gentle, I need ya lass.” You nod and he crawls on top of your body, hips gently grinding into yours. You wrap your legs around his hips and rock against his hard cock, slow long moments as you both are spent. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. While Price leans down and plants a few kisses to your forehead, squeezing your laced fingers.

For the last time of the night, you feel Johnny slowly sink into your sensitive hole and begin gently rolling into you, slow and passionately, making you feel every inch of him. You let out a sigh at the change of pace, you kiss his shoulder. You feel your legs shake from the over stimulation, but you don’t want Johnny to miss out, even if he has already cum once this evening.

Price uses his free hand to snake between your and Johnny's bodies till he reaches your apex, toying with your very sensitive clit one last time. You thought you would pass out by now, your body pushed over its limit. A tear falls from your eye as Price circles your swollen abused clit and Johnny pumps into you.

“Please, lass, I need to feel ya, for me, please”, Johnny babbles into your ear. You nod at his pleas and tense down around him - let out a shudder at how tight you still were and Price picks up a faster pace. The warmth grows one last time inside you as Johnny brushes against that sweet spot of yours over and over. You let out a whimper close to a sob, you were extremely over stimulated and emotions were at an all time high. Price coos at you praises, lips pressed at your temples. You squeeze his hand from the pleasure.

You feel the core inside snap but not as intense, you feel yourself gently pulsating around Johnny as you’ve done many times but this felt warmer. You pant out a few moans and Price pulls his hand away, letting Johnny grind against you. Your chest bubbles with love. Price teases your abdomen again, letting his finger glide up your sternum, between your bouncing tits. Till he cups one of your breasts and teases the nipple gently. You shudder.

Johnny thrusts into you a few more times, his hips start to lose rhythm and you know he’s close. Your pussy was sore but worth it after all the pleasure you’ve been gifted this evening. Your legs slowly start to fall from his hips from exhaustion. Pressing his forehead to yours, he thrusts once, twice more and finally cums inside you with a final slap of skin. You can feel his cock twitch as he coats your walls with ropes of cum. He grinds into you a few times, getting as deep as possible.

He lets out a breath and kisses you, cupping your cheek in his palm and then rests his face into the crook of your neck. Price leans over and kisses your forehead, for a moment you forgot your hand was locked with his.

“You did so well for us, love.” He praises you.

Johnny drops his dead weight onto you for a second, you feel his muscles shake from his aftershocks and his cock slowly grows soft inside you. He kisses your neck and gently pulls out of you, knowing you are extremely tender. Once free, you let out a groan at the emptiness, already feeling his cum dripping out of your hole.

Johnny flops to the bed at your side, still panting heavily and wraps his arm over your waist.

“Love you.” He mutters. You let out a small giggle.

“Love you too.” You cover his forearm with your hand and squeeze.

The three of you now just lie in silence on the bed, the air was thick with the smell of your sex, sweat and heavy breaths.

Price slowly rolls off the bed, slipping his fingers from yours and collects his underwear, tugging them on as he plods out of the room pulling the door too.

Once alone, you turn to head to Johnny, who’s nearly falling asleep already.

“Johnny…?” You ask timidly and so quietly. He turns to face you, eyes drooping shut, he smiles at you.

“You okay?” He mutters.

“Yeah, that was….” You giggle, still feeling euphoric from your many, many orgasms.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” He leans closer and kisses you softly. “Come here.” He pulls you to him, turning onto your side and slots himself behind you. He presses his face in between your shoulder blades, kissing the sweaty skin. His hand drapes over your waist and reaches upwards, cupping your exposed breast like he does every night. You feel the corner of your mouth curve into a smile.

You hear the door squeak open as Price returns with a few bottles of water, and a damp flannel. You smile at him, he hands you the flannel and you wipe yourself with it, cleaning up the mess between your thighs. It was cool and soothing. He places 2 bottles on the bedside table and opens the third, dropping back into the chair he was in many hours ago, taking a huge drink.

Your eyes never stop watching him, watching his muscles move and contort under his skin.

His eyes meet yours and you blush. He nods at you and you mouth at him thank you.

Smiling at you, wrinkles crinkle at his eyes and he reaches to the side of the chair to collect his jeans, but you pipe up.

“What are you doing?” You ask quietly.

“Getting dressed and leaving you two love birds.” He looks away at that, sadness and jealousy flash in his eyes for a brief second.

“No.” You say sharply. You reach your hand to him, wiggling your fingers, beckoning him over. “Need to make sure you’ll be a good cuddle after-care lover too.” You smile.

Price simply shakes his head and tuts. He couldn’t refuse you. He drops the fabric back into the pile of his other clothes and struts over to the bed. He tucks himself next to you, lying on his back. He reaches his arm around your head, hand resting on Soap’s shoulder, who grunts at the touch. You rest your head on his peck, and your free arm drapes over his waist.

“Do I get approval? Do I pass?” he whispers.

You pause for a moment, as if pretending to think about it. You let out a hum.

“Think you’ve passed the first stage of interviews. Might need you to come back for further tests and demonstrate more skills.” You let out a laugh. “If Johnny say agrees. Which I think he will.”

Price lets out a small breathy laugh, kissing the top of your head one last time tonight.

“Night, love.”

“Night John.”

You let out a sigh and close your eyes. Price reaches over and turns down the bedside lamp too low, leaving the three of you in a sunset glow, falling asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

Hope you enjoyed! Kudos/Likes, Comments, Shares/Reblogs are more than welcome. As well as any typos, mistakes or just general feedback is welcome. I really hope I was able to make this a bit funny, some fluff as well as the smut, just not as deep as it could be? Either way, hope you've enjoyed!

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