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tew1122 · 4 years

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Cigars and Singlets

Huge thanks to @vcmdr who provided the pictures for this story. I wrote it with his help and domination.It was very fun (and arousing process). Can’t wait to see him evolve further into a cigar pig. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Josh was screwed. His grades slipped for one class and he lost his academic scholarship.

His only hope was a sports scholarship, but he wasn’t very athletic. He knew some of the coaches would take a few newbies to add to team numbers or to serve as assistant coaches.

Josh ran from office to office and asked various coaches if they would be willing to help him. They all declined. The football coach even laughed at him.

His one last chance was the wrestling coach, who is apparently very peculiar about his assistant coaches and hasn’t chosen one yet.

Josh caught the grizzled man as Coach was getting into his car to leave for the day. Coach was in his 50s, with the bulk of his years in the gym. Coach was known for his different sense of style. He rejected the chinos and polos of his colleagues. Instead, he wore large boots and a closed leather jacket when he wasn’t in a singlet of his own for practices. He had a beard a little more grown out then Josh’s, and short salt and pepper hair. Josh’s gay roommate had described coach more than once as “Daddy “ and, now that he had a good look, Josh agreed he was a handsome man.

Josh explained his plight to coach and begged him to take him on. Offering to workout constantly to become a proper wrestler. To study the holds day and night. To follow a strict diet regimen. Whatever it took.

Coach looked at Josh and seemed to contemplate his request. After a few minutes, when Josh thought he was gonna answer, Coach instead took out a cigar and lighter from his leather jacket and lit it up. Josh watched the red ember glow and dim repeatedly as Coach took slow, careful draws. He found himself unable to look away from the bright puffing as twilight set in through Coach’s office window. Josh thought he should say something, but knew better than to speak out of turn. Coach was his last chance, and besides, as the ember of Coach’s cigar bobbed up and down, Josh found himself less and less nervous. If Coach was relaxed enough to smoke, why shouldn’t he relax too?

Suddenly, Coach broke the silence: “Strip”.

Josh took a second to snap out of staring at the cigar and looked at Coach, confused.

“I want to see your muscles boy, take off your shirt.”4

Josh had a fleeting thought that this, too, was odd, but it made sense. Coach had to see his body. He needed to know what he was signing on for. Josh needed the position more than Coach needed Josh, after all.

“Oh...okay.”

“That’s okay, Sir” Coach reprimanded.

“Right, sorry Sir “

Josh took off his shirt and blushed. His frame was not impressive at all, especially against this much older man. He was thin and wiry. He knew this was a long shot--there was a reason he saved the wrestling coach for last. Still, there were weight classes in wrestling, right? Maybe he could sneak by in the ultra-light-feather class, or whatever it was called.

“Not a lot to work with.” Coach said as he stood up from his desk and circled Josh like a vulture, eyeing him up and down as he puffed on the cigar. The smoke had started to fill the room at this point.

The cigar smoke invaded Josh’s nostrils. The bitter scent made him hazy, and his eyes started watering a bit. Coach was mumbling something as he circled him, but Josh couldn’t make out the words. All Josh could think about was that this large, confident man was in control of his future. Coach’s eyes were boring into him. He felt like his soul was being exposed.

Coach finally stopped in front of Josh.

“You’d need a lot of work. You’re more boy than man. Are you willing to be useful to me to prove your sincerity?”

Maybe it was the desperation turning into a flicker of hope, or maybe it was his exhaustion combined with the cigar smoke, but he wanted to please Coach. Not just for his credit and degree, but because Coach was this paragon of masculinity. He was so self-assured. So powerful. Touch, and strong. Josh hoped he could learn from him and stop being boyish.

“Yes Sir, I will be useful”

“Good boy” coach blew more smoke into Josh’s face. He didn’t find the smell as strong or unpleasant as last time--his future was in Coach’s hands, now. He felt calm for the first time all day. Relaxed. Coach had saved him from his worries.

“Prove your dedication by licking my boots, boy.”

Josh froze. Lick his boots? That’s not normal wrestling stuff. Was this a joke? A test? Initiation?

Coach took another drag and blew more smoke straight into Josh’s face, scattering his thoughts. “Lick Coach’s boots, boy”

With his resistance scattered by the smoke and his free will hazy by the smell. Josh’s thought process was simple.

He must please coach.

Coach ordered him to lick his boots.

Josh will lick Coach’s boots.

Josh got down on his knees, still shirtless, and began using his tongue to clean Coach’s large leather boots. The mud on his tongue felt weird but it felt good to obey Coach. He knows he wants to please coach, so this must feel good.

After finishing his first cigar of the evening, Coach had Josh get up. His boots were clean for the last 15 minutes but he wasn’t going to let that fact interrupt his cigar.

“Good boy. You proved you’re obedient, now you need to prove you’re useful. I am going to do some work in my garage tonight, and you’re going to help. Think of it as your first workout. You’re going to drive so I can enjoy another cigar in the car.”

“Yes Sir!” Josh was elated. He has proven his first task successfully, and now Coach wants to invite him over. Professors and staff only invited students they’re close with to their homes, so this is great. Maybe he can get a look inside Coach’s house and see how a real man lives, so he could imitate it at home.

The car was an old but cared for vehicle. Josh was ordered to put his shirt back on for the drive. Coach said he didn’t feel like driving and made Josh drive, joking that he’s gonna be his personal chauffeur.

Meanwhile Coach took his own shirt and jacket off and lit another cigar, as he press play on the CD player, which started emitting some strange electronic music. The beat made it easy to drift off and focus on the road. After a few minutes, something else entered Josh’s senses. It was a mixture of cigar smoke trapped in the car and coach’s musk.

“Sir can I open a window? It’s getting kinda stuffy in here.”

“You may not boy. Is my cigar smoke bothering you?”

“Just a little Sir.”

“Pull over”

Josh’s heart sank as he moved to the side of the empty road. He hoped that his comment didn’t cost him this opportunity. He was worried about his scholarship, his future, and most importantly disappointing this stud of a man.

“Alright boy, so you want to join the wrestling team.”

“Yes Sir, I want to join your team.”

“And the wrestling team needs strong, testosterone filled men, not boys “

“Yes Sir. Wrestlers must be strong men.”

“So I’m going to have to make you a man, correct boy?”

“Yes Sir, please Sir. I don’t think I can do it without your guidance.”

Josh was surprised at the strength of his conviction. But he knew he was right. Without an alpha man like coach to take him under his wing he’d always be weak. He HAD to please Coach, so that he could remake him in his image.

“And who smokes cigars, boys or men?”

Josh knew that no one would call coach a boy, and he was smoking now. He was a boy, and he wasn’t smoking.

“Men smoke cigars, Sir “

“So you’re going to need to get used to cigars and musk in order to be a man. Is that right?”

“Yes sir, I will need to get used to cigars and musk”

“Good boy. Now take a big inhale and repeat after me: I like cigar smoke and musk.”

Coach said, blowing his smoke into Josh’s face once again.

Josh inhaled the bitter cloud and tried not to cough. He felt himself changing , starting to enjoy the smell and haziness. He started to pick up on the subtle notes of cedar and cinnamon. It was hot and bitter, yet smooth. Coach’s own smell intermingled to give it a sort of tangy flavor in his mouth. ”I like cigar smoke and musk,Sir”

Coach blew another cloud onto Josh.

“You like Coach's cigar smoke and musk.”

After Coach said this he turned up the volume on the radio.

The music combined with the haze was making it hard to concentrate. Josh tried to consider if he did enjoy coaches musk- does he need this po- is coach coming onto-. Fuck, the heavy beats pounding at his brain wouldn’t let him finish a thought. Fuck it, he decided. Just fuck thinking for tonight and obey Coach.

“I like your cigar smoke and musk, Sir.”

“Good boy. You also like pleasing me and being called a good boy.”

“ I like pleasing you and being a good boy Sir.”

Josh repeated those three facts and inhaled smoke clouds until they were seared into his brain. A mental rebranding by three important metaphorical cigar nubs. After half an hour of this brainwashing, Coach took another large drag of his cigar, but instead of exhaling it he grabbed Josh and kissed him on the lips, pushing the smoke inside of him.

Josh was very confused for a second, but he was getting a strong taste of coaches musk and cigar smoke, which is good; and he was obeying the coach, which is good. So clearly kissing Coach is good. It definitely made Josh feel good.

It felt even better when the coach edged his cock and ordered Josh to lick his pits. Josh was enjoying the sweaty smell of coaches musk wrapped up into the cigar smoke, but now he is getting a full blast of manhood. He enjoys Coach’s musk, which is good; and he is pleasing Coach, which is good. So licking Coach’s body must be good.

After a thorough pit cleaning and smoke session, Coach ordered Josh to continue driving.

Josh felt good obeying the coach. His brain was so full of smoke he didn’t really hear Coach’s quiet whispers too well. Something about “obedient jock” and “smoke pig.” He didn’t know what that meant, but it was okay. Coach knew, and that was all that mattered.

After a little while longer they arrived at Coach’s house in the suburbs. A bit on the smaller end but it looked like a perfectly vanilla white suburban home.

Josh parked the car outside and Coach opened the garage, guiding Josh inside. Coach lit another cigar in the messy garage. It was filled with assorted boxes, garbage and junk.

Coach explained “junk from the last owner of the house, a hoarder. I’m planning on turning the garage into a cigar lounge and home gym.”

Coach blew a cloud of smoke into Josh’s face. This one was much stronger and bitter. Josh’s sinuses burned as he inhaled the smoke like he was taught. He knew even though it hurt to inhale, it was necessary to be a man. “Start throwing out everything here. It’s 10pm, you have till sunrise.”

Josh got to work, lifting and moving the trash out. Lifting and moving the trash out. And repeating. Over and over. His muscles started to strain and his shirt got coated with sweat. It hurt, but he started to develop his own musk, which felt good. Not as good as Coach’s musk but it was a start.

Whenever Josh would slow down, or ask for water or to use the bathroom Coach would stand up, take a large puff of the cigar, and kiss Josh, showing the smoke down his lungs. The smoke would make him forget his exhaustion.

At 4 am, Josh was coated in sweat, sleep deprived, and dehydrated, but the garage was finally empty. Josh felt very light headed from the ordeal, as well as all the smoke from the coach's cigar, by now heavy and starting to settle in the garage.

All Josh could think about is that he obeyed Coach, and how good that made him feel. He felt rock hard, pleasing Coach, smelling his musk and cigar smoke.

Coach finished his cigar at around the same time. This time he pulled up two of them.

“You’ve done a good job boy. You’re part of the team. Here’s the cigar to seal the deal “

“Thank You Sir! “ Josh said, as he clamped the cigar in his jaw. It tasted strong but Josh was so happy he can be like Coach. He knelt on the floor in front of him as his cigar was lit. He puffed it to life, as for the first time he tasted the bitter spice and intricate flavor of the tobacco.

The cigar smoke filled Josh’s exhausted brain. It felt so good as it finished the corruption coach started. He wasn’t used to smoking cigars so it was a bit awkward and his smoke clouds weren’t very impressive, but Coach helped him by blowing smoke in his direction. Coach was always helping him. He owed everything to Coach.

Coach told Josh to focus on how good serving him feels, and how manly he feels smoking the cigar. The control he felt with a cigar clenched in his jar. How strong the smoke was, and how strong he felt. The force of blowing out a smoke cloud. The power of the cigar. Josh was getting harder and harder as his mind got emptier.

“Repeat after me, boy:

“You enjoy smoke and musk”

“I enjoy smoke and musk, Sir”

“You’re a cigarpig and love it”

“I’m a cigarpig and fucking love it”

“You’re my jock”

“I’m your jock, Sir”

“You will do whatever I say”

“I will do whatever you say, Sir”

“Good boy “

“As you smoke that cigar, your old personality will burn up with it. Ashes of tobacco leaf are ashes of character. You’ll be empty for me to fill up with wrestling and cigars. “

Josh smiled, knowing that Coach will recreate him. Turn him from his weak self into a real cigar smoking wrestling man. He puffed on the cigar eagerly. As the minutes passed and ashes fell to the concrete floor, Josh felt his personality slip away, like Coach said. His memories stayed, but he didn’t care about classical literature or good grades anymore. He no longer found video games interesting. His interest in women faded away too.

Finally, the cigar cap dropped to the floor as the sun rose. Josh was empty, a look of bliss in his face.

Coach smiled at his new toy.

“Time to lay some ground rules boy “

“You will always wear a singlet, either alone or under your clothes. Or you will be naked”

“Always... wear... singlet...or naked” Josh droned. He slowly stood up and stripped, then went back to kneeling before Coach.

“You will smoke a cigar every day”

“Smoke... every ... day”

“You will work out every day to improve your body”

“Work... out... every... day”

“You are only attracted to men, and find me very hot”

“Attracted... men... coach is hot”

“You will live with me so I can mold your progress”

“Live... with... coach”

“Good boy. Now as you breathe this smoke into you will embrace your new personality”. Coach took a long inhale of his cigar, and grabbed Josh’s head. He kissed him hard and pushed the smoke into Josh. Josh slowly awoke from trance as the smoke hit, and he was overcome by lust and obedience for Coach. He started making out with him, hungry for the taste of the smoke and the taste of Coach himself. Coach picked him up and carried him to the bedroom. Josh’s first morning in his new life was spent with a cigar clenched in his jaw and Coach’s cock in his ass.

6 months later:

Josh was overseeing a new wrestler working in Coach’s garage gym. The puny boy, Jake, was panting and sweating like a pig. Josh expertly blew smoke in his face and commanded “again, 10 more reps”. As soon as the pig began again, Josh thought about his own start. After converting him, Coach helped him move in. His old clothes got torn up, he needed singlets and sports wear now. Coach made sure he had a cigar in his jaw every waking minute, and it wasn’t long before Josh couldn’t stand not having one. The workouts were the toughest part. Three hours every day, he felt like he’d never been as sore in his life every night, and then again the next night.

It has all been worth it though. Coach has shaped him into a man. His muscles in the singlet proved it. The cigar in his mouth proved it. The smirk as he imagined fucking the new wrestler on the bench press proved it.

After getting used to pleasing Coach for 3 months, Josh got a taste of dominance when Coach put a wrestler under with cigar smoke during some “additional training” at Coaches house. It was so hot seeing the strong wrestler realize he belongs to Coach and crave cigars. After that weekend the wrestling team had two cigar pigs. Josh helped Coach covert the other team members, one by one, into cigarpig jocks. Now the entire team wore singlets 24/7, smoked cigars, and served coach. Coaches favorites lived with him and Josh as house boys.

As his final test, Coach is having Josh convert this newbie all by himself. It’s going great. Josh found this lanky guy asking if he can work in the Athletics office to get a gym credit. After a few blows of smoke Josh got him to admit he was envious of jocks. After a cigar Josh convinced Jake he needed to come to coach’s house for the interview. After a few puffs and a lot of suggestions, Josh got him to wear a sweaty cumstained singlet for this workout. That was 5 hours ago. This punk won’t be able to move tomorrow. His muscles are swelling and red but Josh keeps breathing smoke and he keeps going. Josh enjoys this transformation. He specifically picked a scrawny weakling like he was before Coach changed his life. Josh can’t wait to see the weakness leave him and be replaced with obedience and cigar smoke. As the newbie finished the workout, he collapsed into a pile of meat and sweat. Josh blew the last of the cigar smoke in his face and said “relax boy. Relax your body and mind. Do not move, do not think”

“Not thinking... sir”

Josh pulled two cigars, lit both, and placed one in Jake’s mouth. Jake was still catching his breath so his eager pants turned into big puffs as he inhaled the smoke. The smoke invaded his empty mind, corrupted him as Josh was once corrupted many weeks before. Josh got hard as he saw the smile of corrupted bliss on Jake’s face. Josh wanted to stick his dick into Josh’s ass, but he had to finish the conversion first, just as coach said.

“As you smoke that cigar, your old personality will burn up with it. Ashes of tobacco leaf are ashes of character. You’ll be empty for me to fill up with wrestling and cigars. “ he scratched Jake’s head as he said that, and he smiled as his worries, cares, dreams, and personality went up into cigar smoke.

Josh was excited about his first boy. He’s going to make a good cigar pig for Coach. He’s going to push Jake to his absolute limit until his muscles are like a bull and his brain fried by cigars.

Josh got down on his knees and started whispering into Josh’s ear and edged him through the singlet with his hands. How good it feels to obey Coach and Josh. How relaxed and horny cigar smoke makes him feel. How good wrestlers work out every day, how good boys wear singlets all the time. How he wants to worship Josh’s cock. This continues on and until the last ashes simmered out.

Josh looked at Jake’s face and kissed him, long and hard and sweet, as he marveled in his first pig. He slipped another cigar in their mouths and went around to the other side of the bench. He lifted Josh’s legs up and started to finger him through the ass slit in the singlet (coach’s idea for easy access.) as Josh moans through his second cigar, Jake loosened him up. Josh then thrust his hard cock into Jake, claiming Jake as his. He fucked him nice and hard in rhythm with his cigar puffs. Jake moaned, but that only made his cigar fall deeper into his mouth. Despite the exhaustion he flexed his ass like a good pig, he knew no matter how tired he was, Master Josh’s pleasure comes first.

Josh continues this steady rhythm for about half a cigar, letting his new pig associated the pleasures of cigar smoke with getting fucked by him. Finally, he thrust hard into Jake’s ass and came. Large ropes of warm sticky cigar pig cum erupted into Jake, as his fate as Josh’s cigar buff wrestling bitch was sealed. Josh felt a euphoria after covering his first pig. He’s never cum so much, and when he finally pulled out, Jake’s hole was dripping. Jake came too, right into the singlet. His cum stain right on top of Josh’s dried cum, since it used to be his singlets and coach fucked him in it often. Josh admired his handiwork , A exhausted cum pig on cloud nine smoking a cigar. A new team mate, and Josh’s first boy .

Josh started to head back into the house. Coach has to confirm his handiwork and make sure Jake’s ass was fully broken in. And if Josh did a good job, Coach will reward him with a one on one “training session”.

#original story #transformation #cigar #cigar pig #jock #singlet #wrestling

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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 3 years

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Girls Just Want to Have Fun

It’s always fun jumping into a movie I know next to nothing about, and this requested review for Wes will be no exception. All I know is that Girls Just Want to Have Fun is an 80s teen romp with the worst photoshopped cover photo I’ve ever seen. It looks like Michael Scott put it together. I know it stars girls, AND I know what those girls want. That’s half your narrative battle right there. So do they achieve the fun they seek? Well...

They do! A lot of weird shit happens along the way, but yeah, fun is had and that’s all that really matters. God, 1985 was a simpler time. I mean, I know everyone was living in constant fear that the Russians were going to invade Kansas and we’d be faced with a neverending nuclear winter, but in the face of all that existential terror you also get movies where the entire pitch is “So there’s this girl (Sarah Jessica Parker) who wants to be a dancer on tv, but her parents don’t want to let her. But she does it anyway! And her partner is chosen for her and, boy, they do not see eye to eye. But then they do! And they have to practice a lot. And then they win the dance contest!”

You know some studio exec heard that and screamed at his secretary to hold his calls for the day so he could sign the contracts and then do a mountain of blow off them.

Some thoughts:

It’s so weird to see Sarah Jessica Parker without curly hair! I was never a Sex and the City fan, so my exposure to SJP is purely Hocus Pocus based.

This dance sequence over the credits is incredible. Why do we not have shows anymore that are just a large group of young attractive people dancing in sync? No host, no dialogue, just the power of dance. I was born in the wrong decade. I would have appreciated the shit out of the 80s when I was alive.

Poor Helen Hunt - she must be one of those people who always looked like she was 35, even in high school. Granted, she was 22 when this was filmed and she’s playing a teenager, but still.

Helen Hunt is wearing dinosaurs in her hair. 80s fashion was on a wavelength that I don’t think any of us living will ever see again.

Omg this rich bitch (Natalie, I guess? She’s not named for at least the first 30 min of the movie) had Claire’s closet from Clueless 10 years before the movie existed! This is already groundbreaking.

NOW SHE HAS A BUG ON HER HAT. A big plastic green grasshopper. This review is mainly going to be about the insane things Lynne (Helen Hunt) wears.

Speaking of - I’m getting big lesbian vibes from Lynne Stone and I am so here for it. The homoerotic tension when she acts like she’s gonna fight the rich bitch? Delicious. The immediate intimate connection she makes with SJP? Practically U-Hauling.

I love an 80s dance montage, and this movie promises to contain basically nothing but that tied loosely together with some nonsensical dialogue in between. This is gonna be my new favorite movie.

Ooh Nestle Quik syrup! I forgot about Nestle Quik.

Favorite line: “There is a time and a place for calypso music, young lady.”

Ohhh I see what this is gonna be - Janey (SJP) is a classically trained dancer and gymnast, and Jeff (Lee Montgomery) is more of a rough and tumble music video kinda guy from the streets. You can tell cause he’s got a motorcycle and a leather jacket. And he wears cutoff sleeves! He’s a white guy in Chicago, who could be more street than that? And they’re butting heads! How will they ever be able to make it work for the big dance contest??

How did Natalie know Janey’s phone number? She specifically said it was unlisted. Unless she remembers it from overhearing it offhand after the dance tryouts...? That’s insane, I can’t even remember what I wore yesterday let alone a 7-digit number someone shouted in a crowd.

Lynne Fashion Alert: Is she wearing a belt made out of bullets? And a Davy Crocket hat. This is galaxy brain lesbian fashion. If the costume designer for this movie didn’t win 10 Oscars...

The music director on the other hand...not sure what is up with all these weird KidzBop covers of excellent songs like “Dancing in the Street” or the titular “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” but if you’re gonna include them, you gotta spring for the originals. This is just sad.

I’ve never been at a party with an ice sculpture. I think that’s how you know you’re among the rich.

Whatever happened to Jonathan Silverman? I miss when he was the nebbishy sidekick in every 80s movie.

Who enters a party by catapulting through the damn window?? Punk does not mean that you no longer know how to use doors, sir!

Who serves a full roasted turkey at a party? Is this how rich people live? This feels like the equivalent of using Google translate to identify rich people food in another language, then translating it back to English.

Lynne Fashion Alert: Now I think she has space shuttles in her hair.

Wow we got a real 1-2 punch of sexual harassment in this club. Who wrote this Tune in Tokyo gag and was like “You know what would be hilarious? If this shitty little nerd convinced this girl to raise her arms so he can just grab her boobs full on, front and center. And then she gets upset and runs away. God I’m good at this *snorts another line*”

Lynne Fashion Alert: Now it’s two globes (like, two Earths) with crab claws on them? This is a choice that I don’t understand, but I think I may just not be seeing what it is clearly. I am digging her mirror sunglasses though.

I know Janey is smart but when did she learn how to hotwire a security system? It’s not like Google or Youtube existed, and I doubt there was a library book about how to dismantle that specific system. MYTH BUSTED.

Oh god oh no I’m so gay for these Dixon sisters from Kansas City, these two gorgeous black women in tuxes and spandex leotards. They 100% should have won this dance contest.

Why did guys stop wearing crop tops? Can we bring back slutty quarterback as a fashion trend for dudes? Seriously, the costume design here is everything.

I really love Jeff and his little family - his sister and his dad are so proud of him and supportive. You never see that in dance narratives featuring guys. I like the reversal here of gendered expectations.

Did I Cry? No, but my heart was warmed at various moments.

Honestly, why can’t more narrative arcs in movies be solved via dance battle?

Lynne Fashion Alert: She’s now dressed as...Cleopatra? Wait why the fuck is there a horse here?

Oh that’s it that’s the end! Man, you can’t be mad at a tight 90 min film like this - it gets in, it gets out, bing bang boom you’re done with enough time to read before bed.

Is this a cinematic masterpiece? No. But is it good clean fun? Absolutely. Barring the brief [obligatory 80s] sexual harassment scene, there’s very little to be upset with here. Kids wanna dance, they’re told they can’t dance, they dance anyway! It’s the power of dance! You’re either into it or you’re not, but if you’re not, I ask that you search your heart and try to find one teeny tiny sliver of joy inside it. You’re gonna need to feed that joy if you wanna make it through 2021, and watching this movie is a darn good place to start.

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

#121in2021 #girls just want to have fun #sarah jessica parker #helen hunt #lee montgomery #movie reviews #film reviews #patreon review

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vinatintasupernovita · 3 years

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Rating Fictional Characters I at one point or another in my life was DEEPLY invested in!!

- this is so embarassingly long as we can clearly tell i am mentally ill, let’s get started:

Mystique Sonia from Hero 108: Amazing design, weird concept but was probably based on something that i wasn’t aware of at the time, my first official oc was literally a copy of her in another color. 8/10

Noah from Total Drama: This is so embarassing it’s almost laughable but it’s also not. I was projecting. -4/10

Pai/Sardon from Tokyo Mew Mew/Mew Mew Power: He falls into a similar category of Kyoya from Ouran who to save space, id like to call “stoic men who Fresa thought were hot/the reasons not to question her sexual orientation” 3/10

Rowdyruff Boys from Powerpuff Girls/Powerpuff Girls Z: I was a tomboy/‘very clearly going to be a lesbian when i grew up’ kind of person and them being my favorites was a clear sign of that. They were equal in my eyes but I did like Butch the least, very ironically considering the obvious joke in the room. Again, they were family of my longest loved OC Brittney she was their little sister and she’s the reason i started talking to people on the internet. 9/10

HIM from Powerpuff Girls/Powerpuff Girls Z: Again, clearly going to be a lesbian. minus 2 points for realizing he was just a heavily queer coded villain. 6.5/10

Tallest Purple from Invader Zim: I would like all traces of my obsession with this miserable little gay dictator to be wiped from the internet I was very clearly going through it. Now i also realize he was in a relationship with Red but being 11 i said they were brothers so i could project. 2/10

The Weird Sisters from Sailor Moon: Talk about character development!! I still call them by their english dub names bc i haven’t watched the sub so 🧍‍♀️ 7/10

China from H*talia: Nope nope nope not even going here. -100/10

Frederick from Fire Emblem Awakening: He’s a good man but not for me anymore. I would still love if he chopped me firewood. 8/10

Izana from Fire Emblem Fates: Id still let him hit for free. Lovely man and he actually still makes me smile and i will not be marrying anyone else in my birthright play throughs ever 9/10

Charlotte from Fire Emblem Fates: I would do literally anything for her literally anything baby i’ll provide for you. 10/10

Rose Quartz from Steven Universe: I was also emotionally abused as a child so big kinnie vibes here, im no apologist for her actual bullshit but i do think she did the best she could’ve. 6/10

Holly Blue Agate from Steven Universe: I.. girl call me like. I’ll still hit it. 9/10

Shannon from OK KO!: I was just being a lesbian. I miss her and this show it was genuinely one of my favorites 7/10

Athena from Hercules: The Animated Series: Imagine taking so many screenshots of a character it slows down your device and not realizing you’re gay. That was me. I still love her and her design so much and seeing her in a KH3 cutscene was the highlight of the entire game which i did not play 8/10

Jaehee from Mystic Messenger: i literally played that game cus my best friend told me there was a lesbian option 🤭 I love her so much it’s unreal babes if i had as little care for my sleep schedule as i did when i was 16 i would be playing again just for her. 10/10

Persephone from Hadestown: Amber Gray is amazing and im in love with every note she sings. Persephone as a character is so rich and interesting and i want her dress so bad. I’m gonna cosplay her eventually. 10/10

Anathema Device from Good Omens: I have written more words than several harry potter books advocating for this woman to be a lesbian. Says a lot about me. 11/10

The Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse from Good Omens: First off who gave them the right to be that hot? Who did that?? second, They’re literally all like, in my brain, 95% fanon that me and Hannah made up. Which is incredibly valid and sexy. Neil Gaiman and a lot of the fandom wasted their potential anyway 12/10

Frannie Miller from Good Omens: ok someone call up god and ask how he made me so deranged i just made up an entire life backstory character motivations and personality for a character who has a total of like 6 lines max. 12/10

Hela Odinsdottir from Thor: me and her are married as far as i’m concerned it was a summer wedding 1000000/10

#god this should just be given to a therapist w a lil note at the bottom that says diagnose me #fresa is rambling #i think that’s everyone #if i have anymore revelations i’ll add to it lol

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ascreamingstrawberry · 6 years

Text

Prompt : 18. “He’s so pretty it makes me cry.” “That’s a bit dramatic but I support you.” from this list

Pairing : Prinxiety (and highkey Logicality, I didn’t mean to make it about them too, but ya know)

Word Count : 2,250

Requested by : @prinxiety-and-chocolate

Roman appreciated his roommate very much. Logan sent him Chemistry lecture notes when he decided to skip and go get coffee with Remy. Logan was the one who remember to take out the trash late at night when Roman was doing homework he should’ve done earlier. He also, on more than one occasion, would physically pick Roman up out of his chair and throw him on his bed while tiredly mumbling about the benefits of a good sleep schedule. His roommate was great. But probably his most valuable trait was the fact that he would sit idly while Roman showed him pictures of the incredibly attractive edgelord he’d met in his Psychology lecture.

“I mean, come on, Logan, have you seen him?” Roman shut the door behind him quietly, as Logan would not appreciate the slam that he wanted to emphasize his statement. He put his phone on the charger and flopped dramatically onto his bed.

Their beds were closer than most roommates had them, and they were only separated by their respective nightstands stacked on top of each other in the middle. But their desks were on the opposing wall, faced away from their beds, so Logan had his back to him.

“If we’re talking about Virgil, again,” Logan was probably rolling his eyes, based on his tone. “I have seen him. Multiple times. You’ve shown me every picture he has ever taken.”

“Probably not every picture.” Roman thought out loud, more for the way Logan turned out and pointed aggressively at him, than his own amusement.

“If you finish that thought, I will come over there and stick my fist down your throat.” Despite threatening him, Logan had the smallest of smiles on his face. Surprising too, considering he was doing his Calculus homework. It had to be whoever ‘Blue Heart’ emoji was that he had been texting.

Logan didn’t use contact names, he used emojis. Made it easier to him to remember. And since the boy never used Siri there was never any downside to it. Logan and Siri, didn’t get along. Roman had seen them fight once. Logan had almost broke his phone.

“Kinky.” Roman rolled over to check his phone, despite his own knowledge that it had probably only charged like a percent or two. snapchat from dark and handsome

“Logan, give me your phone!” Roman hopped off the bed and ran over to steal Logan’s phone right off the charger plugged into his laptop, despite Logan making grabby hands at him. “Shush I’m not going to look at anything, I’m just taking a picture of his snapchat.”

“You really need to stop doing that, he’s going to think you’re a pervert or something.” Logan groaned. Roman had a system, since Snapchat let the other person know when you took a screenshot of their picture, he used Logan’s phone to take pictures of the cute selfies Virgil would send him. He’d admire it for a minute, and then make Logan delete it. He wasn’t weird. He just needed more than ten seconds to admire Virgil Sanders’ beauty.

“For that comment, I might just look at your texts to Mr. Blue Heart.” Roman wasn’t going to, he wouldn’t invade his friend’s privacy, but the actual fucking whine that came out of Logan’s mouth made him toss the phone back in Logan’s direction. “You can delete that now.”

“Weirdo.” Logan mumbled, and Roman barely had a chance to see 2 snapchats from dark and handsome when Logan continued. “Hey Roman, did you see what this message said?”

“Actually, no. Isn’t it weird to say I was kind of just focused on his face?” Roman said, typing in his code leisurely. He opened Instagram first, checked the dm from Patton, the guy down the hall, as well as his groupchat from back home.

“Yes it is.” Logan replied, turning around in his chair to face Roman now.

“What did he say?” When he opened Snapchat, Roman went to open the next picture but it was just a message. What? Virgil never messaged him.

“He’s asking you out.” Logan deadpanned.

“What?” Roman panicked. Well more, he panicked because Virgil was probably panicking. When the man informed him of his anxiety, Roman had been a little shocked. Not personality wise, Virgil had been wary when Roman had first reached out via a friend request on the university website, let alone snapchat. It just seemed unfair that someone as naturally attractive (and wonderful) as Virgil had a mental illness that prevented him from just going up and talking to anyone he wanted. ‘

dark and handsome : sorry i probably shouldn’t of done that over snapchat

dark and handsome : it’s okay if you don’t want to

me : no no, i’d very much like to.

me : if you want

dark and handsome : roman i asked you

me : i’m just making sure!

dark and handsome : okay ,well see you tomorrow i guess

me : yeah!

dark and handsome : gn roman

me : goodnight virgil!

To say that Roman annoyed Logan very much that evening would be an understatement. First he had to check the time and place on the photo, then he spent most of the night worrying about what to wear, what to say how to act. Dress like you normally do, say what you normally do, act like you normally do. Wait.

“But what if he doesn’t like what I normally do, Logan?”

“As insufferable as you are Roman, the right person will. I have no doubt Virgil will like you as you are just fine.”

“Aw, you do love me.”

“Do you know what insufferable means?”

And by the time it came for the actual date, Logan had to walk Roman to the Starbucks on the edge of campus himself, or else he was pretty sure his poor love stricken friend might faint. When Roman sat down nervously across from the dark haired, all-black teeager, Logan had fully intended to just grab a coffee and hide himself among the other caffeine dependent students. However, fate had a different plan for him it seems.

“LOGAN!” Patton attacked him from behind. Normally Logan would’ve had better reflexes, but something about the smell of chocolate chip cookies and caramel kept him frozen in his spot. When Logan didn’t return his hug, Patton pulled away, a sad smile across his face. Somewhere in Logan’s brain told him that just wouldn’t do.

“Patton, you’re looking lovely as ever, how are you today?” Logan tried to his deer in the headlights look as that those words slipped out, but found he didn’t have to because Patton’s gaze fell to his shoes, trying to hide a blush. Well, that’s a visual representation of the word cute, if Logan’s ever seen one.

Across the tiny Starbucks with baristas that were always way to chipper, Virgil was laughing. It wasn’t intentional Roman was sure, his own joke hadn’t even been that funny, but he was blessed for being able to bear witness to the sight. Virgil’s hand was kind of hovering in the air like any moment he would cover over the beautiful smile that made his eyes light up under the dark eyeliner. He was beautiful.

“Fuck, I’m gay.” Roman mumbled, covering his own mouth as soon as the words slipped out.

“Well that’s good news.” Virgil’s shoulders kind of closed in on himself. He took a minute to scan the cafe, looking for someone maybe, but when he didn’t find what he was looking for or either didn’t like what he did found, he looked down to the floor.

“Do you want to head back to my dorm?” Roman asked, noticing his discomfort.

“Hm?” Virgil looked up, and while he reached down to take another sip of his drink, the blush on his face betrayed the nervous and almost fearful eyes he had.

“You know just cause there seems to be a lot of people here. We could always just hang in my common room or something if my roommate’s there.” Roman shrugged, hoping it came off as nonchalant.

“Sure.” Virgil was up before Roman had even realized he’d answered. And Roman grabbed the coffee that Virgil had forgotten on the little table that had been in between them that was really too short for anyone to use properly, and followed out the door. And it was like as soon as they were outside, Virgil had taken a big deep breath. Figuratively, well, guessing by Virgil’s state, maybe literally too.

Virgil stretched his arms out, shook at the hands as if he was dispelling some kind of energy from with him and his mouth was half opened, and his shoulders tucked up into his ears. And then he let go. Of all the tension in his body, at least, he hadn’t really been holding onto anything since Roman had his drink in his hand.

“Better?” Roman perked up and Virgil turned around to blush again at the fact that Roman had been watching him. He handed over the other boy’s drink and the two fell into a comfortable walking pace, making to Roman’s dorm in under five minutes. Roman didn’t mind the time that much though, he really just like listening to the way Virgil’s hands moved subtly at his sides as the other boy talked. He was entrancing that way.

“Race you up the stairs.” Virgil called, just as soon as Roman had slipped his ID card back into the holder he kept on his keychain.

“I’m only on the second floor.” Roman called, trying to keep up as Virgil’s long legs made it so he could do three stairs at once compared to the normal one (or two in Roman’s case). Virgil barely stopped to open the door on the stairwell, whipping it in front of Roman’s face as Roman’s called directions from behind him. By the time Virgil skidded to a stop in front of the door that read ‘Logan and Roman’, the man from the second half of that label had been out of breath.

“Been a while?” Virgil laughed, barely sounding winded.

“Yeah.” Roman leaned one of his hands on one of the walls of the hallway, bending over a little bit to catch his breath while taking his time to stare at Virgil’s ass. He may not have been subtle but by the way Virgil walked over, took Roman’s chin in his hand, and pulled him up into a quick kiss, the other boy hadn’t seemed to mind.

“You’re kinda cute, I guess.” Virgil laughed when he pulled away, running a hand through Roman’s hair. Roman stood up straight, tried to ignore his blush as he moved past Virgil with his key in his hand, and unlocked the door.

“Just wait til I get you in-” Roman’s statement was interrupted by a giggle as he opened the door to his room, and reached over to turn the light on, managing to turn it off. When he flicked the light back on, his roommate was cuddling with Patton, from down the hall, on his bed, while two two drinks stood on the nightstand. “I didn’t realize this room was occupied.”

“Uh, Roman, hello. I didn’t think you would be back this early.” Logan said, moving to stand up but Patton kept his arm wrapped around Logan’s waist where they laid.

“Hey Pat.” Virgil said from behind Roman, moving around the boy stuck at the door with his hand gripping the handle. When Roman stayed still for even longer, Virgil reached down to pry his hand off the doorknob, taking it in his own, and pulling him over to the desk. Roman blushed as Virgil sat down, plopping Roman on his lap.

“Somebody got awful confident.” Patton’s voice was teasing, Roman knew, but something still made him squeeze Virgil’s hand.

“It’s his fault.” Virgil mumbled, laying his head on Roman’s shoulder while still trying to look up at him. Roman twisted a little. Sure, they’d been on half a dare, but they’d talked for weeks maybe more, and something about the glimmer in the other boy’s dark brown eyes made him lean down and kiss him lightly on the noise.

The four boys made their way downstairs playing pool by the front door, swapping jokes and staring at their respective crushes, until they grabbed food together from the vending machines and went back up to Logan and Roman’s room to watch some shitty Adam Sandler movie on Logan’s laptop.

It was six o’clock by the time Virgil headed back to his dorm and Patton left for his room down the hall. Closing the door behind them, Roman locked it shut and walked over to his bed to dramatically flop his upper body against the bedding. He kept his feet on the floor, and he crooked his head to look over at Logan who was sat at his desk again, but he was just leaning backwards in his chair kind of staring up at the ceiling.

Roman let out a deep sigh, and Logan made a noncommittal noise in response. Something about that made Roman laugh, and Logan made eye contact with him, watching as his roommate’s neck was crooked back and that made him laugh. Roman sighed again, “He’s so pretty it makes me cry.”

“That’s a bit dramatic but I support you.” Logan replied, the amusement never leaving his face.

“Shuddup.” Roman replied, tossing a pillow backwards as he climbed up fully on his bed, face first, knowing very well that Logan was probably blushing over his own crush as well.

#platonic logince #platonic moxiety #platonic analogical #platonic royality #romantic logicality #romantic prinxiety #prinxiety fic #prinxiety #logicality #logicality sanders #logicality fic

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autisticmight · 5 years

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gimme that echoes commentary, bruh

one: i spent the entire time ruminating on past stangsts and which parts hurt you the most. i pushed them as far as i could go. this is your personalised angst

two: the opening paragraphs are just me being very gay about the ocean and open communication. i kind of wanted to get a scale of “hey, this is how big the ocean is. it’s full of unknowable mysteries. if they die out here, nobody will know. also they’re best friends and brothers and they love each other a lot yay”

three: i purposefully avoided dialogue for most of this fic. when you dream, some senses don’t make it through when you’re awake. i often used vague, imprecise descriptions in order to develop a sense of dissociation

four: i like my greek mythology references. i’m kind of very unintentionally pretentious. ford is my equal in that regard

“…as the nightmare goes crawling to the bottle with the metaphors and fears; a simple echo of an echo of a long-gone trauma.”

behold: one of the lines that sum up the fic. i think i meant like boats in a bottle, but that’s the thing about how i like to write. it means a lot

five: if i had the patience and ability to portray it, i would have drawn this as a comic. there’s something like oil pastels that i remember feeling when i wrote this, in buttercup yellow and the peachy-reds of sunsets, and midnight blue against lurid gold

six: mabel’s presence, as usual, is very important to contrast warmth and healthy coping skills, and, for a word i’m a little wary of using, purity, against all of ford’s neuroses.

seven: remember, every metaphor means something more. almost every sentence has at least two more that could extrapolate. these words are zip files. i’m very much avoiding a director’s commentary like this. fuck. lemme try this again

this is a story about addiction, and suicide, and paranoia, and most of the things we can extrapolate about ford’s mental state from gravity falls. those are the content warnings. heed them. this is echoes, and it’s all fex’s fault

i wanted to explore the stan twins’s decision to sail around the world in a tiny boat. i wanted to explore the fears of isolation and the claustrophobia of living so closely to someone you have a complex relationship with

honestly, i mostly wanted to see how melodramatic i could be

this story is mildly dissociative. it takes place in chronological order, but the thing is, time doesn’t feel like it exists when you’re isolated. that’s why the feeling was important. that[’s why it starts off simply; as simply as ford can get, because he’s verbose. i don’t have to hold back on my words when i write him

calling their communication a “dance,” and the lack of elaboration, also kind of sets them up as still not being fully communicative. they talk, but they still have barriers. there’s still a mutual unacknowledged fear of abandonment, that is only amplified by the isolation. there’s nowhere to hide from each other if you get mad and need some time alone. there’s nobody else to mediate. and they both have issues that they refuse to acknowledge

ford’s dreams, though i don’t mention it, seem to take place on a weird combination of my favourite beach, which is just off of a campsite in france called camping la plage, and glass shard beach, where stan and ford grew up, obviously. i’m not sure if there are more pebbles there or sand. his family being mermaids is about their connection to fancifulness, and the ocean, and him being away from them is. him being away from them. he still isolates himself, only he’s isolating himself in his head now

segment one is about love, and belonging, and the lies they tell themselves. it’s about the little things, and the small events, and living in the moment. it’s about the broad openness

segment two is about rocks. i like hag stones. i have quite a few. i love erosion, and how everything fades, and smoothens, and. it’s just really cool. the ocean does cool things. hitting things together, over and over, until they wear away. oh shit, that was the metaphor i was going for with the rocks. see! there were a lot of metaphors that i didn’t remember, because they were layered in the background. that’s how hag stones are formed. erosion that bores a hole through a rock. hit something for long enough, and a hole forms

it’s about the first segment becoming more corrupted. the fear starts to make itself known again, and ford tries to ignore it, and live in happy ignorance. it doesn’t work, of course

mentioning yellow means that bill is present, maybe. this fic was written with the same coin theory in mind, and deconstructing the misled belief that it erases the happy ending. bill’s existence is up for debate. schrodinger’s giant squid, if you will. the thing is, the same coin theory is canon to me. it’s the perfect culmination of both stan and bill’s arcs

then i did icarus references. then i ruined it with sex jokes and references bc i hate any non-platonic relationships between pineses

they mislead each other

the third segment amps up the contrasts. with mabel, as i said before, an element of purity is added. mabel’s morals and beliefs are strong. that’s why she’s pure. she loves her family. mabel’s just. she’s love central. you could say maji love 1000%. her association with yellow isn’t bill, but ford sees bill in it, because he’s seeing bill in everything

ford is unintentionally gaslit by his family because they don’t believe that he has been sleeping, because he is a known sleep hypocrite, so that adds to ford’s lack of trust in the outside world. and that also cuts into the time he has with mabel. it cuts into his time with purity

this segment’s dream involves bill more prominently, but with a little bit of mabel in the soft yarn. the softness also adds to the dissociation. it’s not real

then there’s a puppet metaphor. that’s. that’s pretty obvious

Stanley holds the hag stone to his eye, closing the other eye and laughing in an awful, vaguely familiar way.

“Hey, Sixer, I can still see you!”

this is bill and stan. bill or stan. maybe

the fourth segment is just a little way of contrasting the warmth of hot chocolate established in the previous segments. he pours away the hot chocolate; he throws away his family ties. stan thinks he drank the hot chocolate; stan thinks that ford is still with him

segment five! pattern recognition in the abstract! all these bills keep piling up, and ford can’t stop seeing them. i think he’s having a psychotic episode by this point, but i’m not sure. damn you, past len, for writing your vague dissociation fic in vague dissociative ways!!! i barely have any idea what i was thinking during this part!!!

…your ridiculous dreams that don’t even mean anything past the fact that you’re paranoid and not alone and still aching for the echoes of Bill.

this is just. i guess that usually, when i used the word “echo” or its derivatives, i was summing up the general emotions of the fic at that point

ford drinks fruity liquers, not only because i think that was fex’s headcanon, at least at the time, but also bc he’s a classy boi

the alcoholism themes start here. it’s more about secrets, but it’s also about the lack of control. addiction is, on and off, a special interest of mine, because of reasons

then segment six. it’s a full dream sequence, and it’s mostly just about how stan is also a liar. the mabel in this dream is distant and less real, because, to ford, she is less real. she’s kind of idealised, so for her to be on bill’s side, in ford’s head, kind of strips her of a lot of personality

stan is called “grunkle stan”, because that’s how mabel sees him, and spoke of him, and it’s ford’s frame of reference at that moment

the swig from the memory gun is something i keep forgetting but it’s very abstract. very meaningful or meaningless, depending on your viewpoint. very pretentious. 10/10, past len

the seventh segment, i believe, is the only one that is achronological. it’s just a flashback to jhselbraum, and the fogginess of a shifting brain chemistry, and also that ford feels like a failure for his relapses. it’s his rumination on his past

that segment is the shortest, which is why the last one is the longest

the final segment combines ford’s two places. i hesitate to call them “dreams” and “reality” because, for all intents and purposes, right now, for ford, they’re the same. it starts with bill, and how he enables ford’s self-destructive behaviours, and that ford still loves bill, on some level, even though he hates him, and how e’s scrutinised

he wants to disappear. he wants to die, and he wants to die, on some level, throughout all of the fic. i’m still a little ashamed to say that suicidality never really goes away, even when you think it’s gone for good

bill’s dialogue is intentionally slightly wooden. he gives an evil monologue. he does exposition in a story with little to no exposition. he doesn’t, ironically, fit into the dreamlike airs of the fic. his story has holes that ford doesn’t notice

ford, at this point, is terrified. obviously. he had his happy ending and it’s all gone. bill is poking at all of his insecurities. then he’s abruptly with stan, who is stan. he’s in the stanley body. he’s himself. but because of same coin, and because of bill’s words, ford doesn’t believe that

ford is continuing the conversation from his dream, but stan isn’t, because he wasn’t there. obviously

each time that ford tries to kill bill, he uses a gun. the first time, he’s in bill’s home, which isn’t actually his home but the in-between spaces of the multiverse that bill has invaded, and he fails. the second time, he’s in gravity falls, where bill has invaded, and he succeeds

this time, he is in the stan o’ war, which was supposed to be a safe and innocent and pure home, that “bill” has invaded

and ford breaks. in each segment, a string holding him together has snapped, and this one is the last string

so, ford has a gun, stan is crying, and ford’s lining up their temples so that a single shot can kill them both. it was something i read being attempted in a les mis fic before, and it stuck with me, because those fics were good, if kind of questionable. this is me pushing my angst limits. i did this for you, fex! i messaged you like “hey is this going too far” and you were just “you can never go too far”

ford loses his metaphors during the countdown. there were so many metaphors throughout this fic, but at this point, i was just like “meh idk” and it fitted thematically with the fact that ford has no clue what’s happening

then ford’s life kind of flashed before his eyes, and stan starts crying, but ford perceives it as laughter

wait fck i wrote an unreliable narrator fic. i’ve been thinking “damn unreliable narrator is so cool i wish i could do that” for a Very Long Time WELL GUESS WHAT

at the end, ford drinks from the bottle, despite having drunk from a glass beforehand, because he’s lost his dignity. but, also, his barrier has been torn down. he’s been left defenceless. both of them have been at the other’s mercy. ford has held and then relinquished some form of control, even if it’s a loose definition

it’s an abrupt ending, because sometimes thhings happen like that. if id stretched it for much longer, it would have been hurt/comfort and not stangst. hurt/comford. excellent

anyway bye

#helen stfu #fex #asks #i just spent like. an hour and a half on this

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grant-spiraltf · 7 years

Text

Who Makes You Feel

Hey dudes, since i missed last friday’s stuff, take this longer one to compensate :) Tomorrow’s story will be at the usual time (i hope) Happy transforming!

My mate Sean and I decided that since it's such nice weather, we should take our hot girls and show them off on the beach. Luckily we live extremely close to the coast, so we just jumped in Sean's beach buggy (can't live here without one) and we just drove. So now we're laying here, getting a nice tan while our muscles and the girls' tits are on full display so that lots of men and women squeal in envy and pleasure. There are a few women who are lustfully checking my girl out, but nowhere near the amount of fags checking me and Sean out. I nudge against him and point my eyes to the gays checking us out. Like... I don't mind them? But I sure as hell don't need them near me. Sean gets my message and we both turn over in perfect synch so we're on top of our bitches and we start making out. Most fags understood what I was trying to tell them and turned and left the crowd to tend to their own tans, a few staying to enjoy the action. When I quickly took a pause and looked up, I saw only five more men which were lustfully checking me out, while the rest of the crowd were looking at my girls tits. Some dude had weird green eyes that made my stomach feel weird when I looked at them, but I felt a soft feminine touch on the back of my head, directing my attention to the slut under me while her other hand had rubbed against my dick a few times. I'm glad I found someone who's smoking hot, knows what she's doing AND is almost as much of a horndog as I am. I returned to my girl and I invaded her little mouth with my big manly tongue, feeling her moans. I grope her ass and we roll over onto my towel with her on top of me.

Since I'm now on the bottom of this kiss I can freely look around in the crowd which hasn't gotten any smaller since I last checked, one of them being a lifeguard who was on his way to tell us to cool it, but now he's drooling over us like the rest of them. Some dude is actually stroking his pathetic cock through his barely tenting swimming trunks. There's a hot chick checking out my massive chest, I might have to check hers out later too, possibly have a three way with her since my girl loves 2 on 1. But there that weird dude is again, his lime green eyes burning into my vision. I close my eyes to block him out and focus on the boobs in front of me, but I still see the lime green blobs, slowly expanding and taking over my entire non-existent vision. It drips down into my brain and I feel dizzy. Suddenly it's all gone again.

What the fuck is this bitch doing on top of me?! I quickly throw her off me and stand up. Hearing soft sobs, Sean breaks his kiss and sees me standing and this girl lying on the sand, her eyes constantly excreting tears as shock came over her. "What the hell bro?! Why did you fucking hurt Lucy?!" Sean screams at me, and I see the confused crowd back up a bit, except for that one guy. "Who the fuck is Lucy?" I ask, my dick instantly hardening as I see my bro's huge arms and cock and I say "I don't care about this bitch bro but how about you and I make something happen? Fuck bro you look great, I just wanna suck your di..." I trail off and feel my eyes glaze over. As if I'm on autopilot I start walking into the crowd, which quickly disbands in areas to make sure I don't collide with any of them and whoop their asses. Everyone steps out of my way except for my Master. His lovely green eyes looking into mine and I walk up to him, planting a hot, wet, sloppy kiss on his lips. I have to lean down since I'm a 2,10 meter muscle beast and he's around 1,70 and so lean that I could probably grab both his arms in one hand.

I feel his tongue invade my mouth and I let it happen. I'm his, but my old personality is still the same, so I'm reluctant to actually do something. He senses it and he breaks the kiss, grabs my hand and leads me over the boulevard, out of the sight of the crowd into a little tent that's usually used for dressing yourself, lunching and the occasional fuck. Since we're both nude the second we enter and it's not even 11:00 am, it's obvious that I'm going to have my cherry popped. The old me is quite afraid and Master sits on the little bench. He beckons me to sit in front of him and I kneel, my head bowed. Master touches my scalp and I feel new feelings and needs fill my mind. I'm gay. I always try was and Master just awakened it. I feel him stand over me and his cock touches my forehead. Precum is smeared over me and I feel a hunger that I have never felt before. I also feel very energetic and extremely horny, like I could cum all day. I cock my head up and look into my Master's eyes, he nods and I swallow his dick like a pro. The further the cock is in me, the less I'm entranced and when my nose is nestled in his pubes, I can think and act on my own again. I start to bob up and down on my Master's cock and he moans loudly and starts cumming down my open throat. I litter the sands beneath us with mine and I stand up, my cock at full attention, ready to cum again. He beckons me to sit on his lap and I hurry over, sitting on the bench with my knees on both sides of him and our cocks pressed between us, saliva dripping over them from our hot make out session.

I hear the tent's zipper give way and Sean screaming at me. My head trails down to Master's nipples on which I suck, while I feel Master lift his arm and make a gesture with his hand, followed by a thud behind me and I stand up. Sean is on all fours, asking us what we're gonna do to him and he screams at Master what the fuck happened to me. I punch him in the gut since he's rude to my Master and he tries to flinch but he's frozen in that pose, so I grab my cock and start pushing it into his closed mouth, feeling his lips tightly pressed together to keep me out. Master steps behind him and touches him. I can feel another mind being connected to Master's and mine, but Sean is different. While I'm still completely myself, Sean is still straight. Sadly for him though he's addicted to dick and he knows it, but with every cumshot down his throat or in his ass by another slave (which in this case is just me for now) or by our Master, he'll slowly become gay and less of a cum dump. I can sense Master has our roles planned out for us, and I'm happy to be his new trainer/boyfriend. Sean isn't as lucky as I am, and he's Sir's new maid/cumdump.

I step out of our thoughts and notice that Sean now has his cock out, completely erect but he's not paying attention to it. Instead he is pounding himself on Master's dick while sucking mine, and Master comes closer to me and we make out. I shoot my cum and I feel Sean resisting most of it making almost all of it drip down my legs and his chin. Master cums as well and Sean tries to unload the spunk out of his asshole, but he's still frozen. "We're going to have to work on that boi" Master laughs, knowing it'll not take long before the problem will start taking care of himself.

Two months later...

I awaken in a lovely queen sized bed. Since the beach only 2 others have joined us. One of them is a very wealthy banker, in who's mansion we now live. He works a lot to provide for all of us and when he gets home he unloads his load into Sean who eagerly awaits by the door.

Next to being our sugar daddy, he also maintains the pool in a very slutty speedo during the days since he works at nights. That's one of the perks of swallowing Master's cum; you don't have to sleep again. Cum now fuels all of us and when we're having an energy dip we immediately go to the huge tank in the middle of the house which has taps in almost all of the rooms take a sip of our cum cocktail and feel energetic again. Well, I say all of us, but Sean of course doesn't. Master has made a few adjustments, one being that he has to suck every dick he sees, which was problematic when we were watching tv and a nude scene came on, luckily Master was able to put a little spell over the actor which made him drop by for a quick fuck and forget all about it. But to make sure that this won't happen again, Sean is now too dumb to watch TV. In fact, he's too dumb to do anything. We place food on a plate in front of him, and he just bows down and starts munching like a dog. At one point Master had enough of trying to fix him so he just made him into the dumb, cum-loving muscle pup he is now.

The other addition is a celebrity chef. Master made him announce his retirement and break all contacts, so now he's nothing more than our chef. His best dish in my opinion is the Cum Brûlée, but Master loves his Spunk Burger more so we eat that a lot. When he's not cooking, he’s cleaning everything, since Sean can’t do anything in the household except being a cum deposit. Being the new maid luckily doesn’t interfere with his cooking job, since when you ask him to make you a little something, he instantly drops what he’s doing and does what he was asked. This is particularly funny when he’s cleaning the massive collection of dildo’s, sometimes he has to reach over him and then you ask him to make you a sandwich and during the time the request travels to his brain, he drops the dildo onto himself, sometimes dropping it in his mouth when I’m lucky but he’s not able to remove it without making the sandwich first. At least he doesn’t notice it, it all feels natural to him.

And me? I’m the personal trainer! I have 2 individual hours with all of the slaves and now they are really pumped! Of course Master has different work-outs for everybody, Sean needs to be a twink with the biggest ass possible, our money maker has become a lean jock, our cook is a complete bro and Master is such a muscular man, old me would feel so ashamed to even be near him. Luckily for me, Master wanted his boyfriend to be a bodybuilder, so I became just that. I’m as heavy as all of the slaves combined, and I’m so strong I can lift them too. Life is good and Master loves me. I’m a good boy...

#straight to gay #muscle tf #tf story #harem tf #grant-spiraltf

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theartificialdane · 7 years

Text

Nebula: The Courtney chronical

A/N: The Year: 2004. The Place: Brisbane, Australia. Baby Courtney is 11 years old. And she has her first crush. And it is not going well…

(Special thanks to @samrull for providing the inspiration for Courtney’s obsessive desires.)

Written by @veronicasanders ❤️

***

Loving someone from afar was hard work. Ever since Isabelle’s family had moved in the summer before, Courtney had been praying, wishing, hoping against all hope that the older girl would notice her. Would talk to her. Would look in her direction for more than a passing, dismissive glance.

Courtney loved everything about her. From the red streaks in her platinum blonde hair, to her wide hazel eyes, to her sarcastic laugh, to the dimples that appeared in her cheeks when she flashed her crooked smile. She loved how Isabelle didn’t give a fuck what the “popular” kids did, but instead had her own style, her own interests, her own laissez-faire attitude. She kept a leather-bound journal and used to scribble in it angrily, glaring at people when they pissed her off. She told one particularly dickheaded boy in their neighborhood that she was a witch, after she saw him push his sister down a hill. Helping the girl up, she stared at him with daggers in her eyes, swearing to curse him for all eternity unless he apologized.

She was everything.

Of course, a girl like that - the epitome of cool, the queen of counter-culture - that girl had no use for Courtney. Who never spoke up, who never made trouble. Never stood out in any way. Courtney was everything Isabelle was not. Ordinary. Vanilla. Boring.

And then, one day, at the start of Summer holiday, a miracle happened. A bone-fide Christmas miracle. Courtney’s parents decided to take her brother to Sydney to look at colleges (as if Ben was going to college. Courtney’s parents meant well, but they were a little slow on the uptake sometimes), and voila! Suddenly she was staying with Isabelle’s family. Sleeping on a twin bed in her room. For five. Whole. Days.

***

“I hate ALL my clothes!” Isabelle moaned, tossing yet another outfit dramatically to the ground. “I have literally NOTHING to WEAR! This fuckin’ SUCKS!”

Courtney bit her lip. She wanted to offer a solution, but wasn’t 100% sure how a drag closet would be received. “Um...we could go to my house. Ben has some pretty cool shit.”

“Boy clothes?” Isabelle looked skeptical.

“Well...not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s sort of hard to explain.”

Isabelle narrowed her eyes and sighed, exasperated. “Alright, Miss Mysterious. Let’s go.”

Butterflies filled Courtney’s stomach as they walked outside, through the garden, across the narrow creek, up the hill to Courtney’s house. Courtney led her up the steps to Ben’s room, where giant, dramatic black letters warned them to “KEEP OUT OR SUFFER THE DIRE CONSEQUENCES!!!!!!!!” She pushed open the door, feeling more nervous about Isabelle in her house then invading her brother’s sacred personal space.

She slid open the mirrored closet door, revealing the two-third’s of the closet where Ben kept all of his drag stuff. Sequins and feathers and lace...fringe and sparkles and pleather and fishnets. Rows of heels on the floor below the clothes, and stacks of wigs and boxes of jewelry on the shelves above, along with his extensive makeup collection.

Isabelle’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “This is your BROTHER’S stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“So...your brother is gay?”

“Um...yeah.”

Isabelle considered this for a moment, and then nodded approvingly. “That’s cool as.”

Courtney felt a sense of relief wash over her, pride replacing her edgy nerves. “He does my makeup and stuff all the time.”

“Really?! You’re sooo lucky. All my brother cares about is surfing and his dumb motorbike.”

Courtney gestured grandly to the closet. “Well...you can try some of his stuff on if you want.”

Soon enough, they’d both concocted entirely new ensembles. Isabelle in a shiny copper halter top and houndstooth shorts, and Courtney in the more ridiculous outfit that Isabelle had insisted on: a padded, sequined bra and pleather mini-skirt with a fringed bolero jacket. After Isabelle used Ben’s prized palette to add some color to Courtney’s face, all that was left was loading themselves up with every piece of jewelry Ben owned, before collapsing, giggling, onto his bed.

Isabelle gazed around the room at all the pictures on Ben’s walls. She smiled appreciatively at his Moulin Rouge poster, and then her eyes lit up at the shrine to Robbie Williams over his desk.

“Your brother has good taste. I’d give anything to pash Ewan. Or Robbie.”

Courtney nodded in agreement, though she wasn’t sure she saw the allure, exactly. Although she had to admit that Ewan was at least relatively cute, compared to most boys she knew.

“You ever pashed anyone, Courtney?” Isabelle had a slightly teasing lilt to her voice. As if she already knew the answer.

Courtney bristled a little. She was determined not be seen as a baby. “Yes,” she lied.

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. “Really? Who?”

Thinking quickly, Courtney answered, “Greg.” The tall, soft-spoken boy on her cheer team was always nice to Courtney, and he was clean and didn’t smell nearly as bad as most of the other boys in her class. If she was gonna have to pash any boy, it may as well have been him.

Isabelle burst out laughing. “You sure love the homos, Court. Greg is gay as mardi gras.”

Courtney felt her cheeks heat up. She cleared her throat, racking her brain to try and divert the attention away from herself. “Have...have you pashed anyone?”

“Nope!” Isabelle said. “I want my first time to be magical. Like in the movies. My friends think I’m weird but I don’t care.”

“I...I don’t think that’s weird.” Courtney suddenly wished she hadn’t lied. “I think it’s cool.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not just leaving it up to fate, though. I practice a lot.”

“How do you practice?”

“Like...you know...on your hand, or a pillow, or...you know, with your friends.”

“Your friends?”

Isabelle flashed a crooked smile, revealing those dimples that Courtney wanted to reach out and touch. It took all her strength to keep her hands to herself. “You know...like...girls don’t count. That’s just like, so you can get good at it for when it’s time to kiss a boy. Like, for real.”

Courtney’s palms began to get sweaty, and her mouth was dry as chalk. She swallowed.

“Of course, you don’t need practice, since you’re already an expert. You and Greeeeg.” Isabelle winked and Courtney thought she might die of embarrassment.

“I...may have lied about that,” she whispered.

“No shit,” Isabelle replied, hazel eyes glittering with delight.

Courtney focused away from her eyes, on her shoulders, tanned a deep caramel from the summer sun, such an enticing color that Courtney had a desire to lick her. She heard rustling and felt Isabelle moving closer to her on the bed. She looked up, saw her plush, round, plum-colored lips. She wondered if they would taste like the watermelon candy they’d eaten earlier.

“Do you want me to show you?” Isabelle asked, one finger just barely touching her chin.

Courtney prayed that she didn’t appear overly enthusiastic when she nodded, closing her eyes. And then Isabelle’s soft, moist lips were on hers, and her fingertips itched, tentatively reaching out to graze her bare midriff, circling her waist, just as Isabelle lifted her head.

“Okay, now, remember, I’m the boy,” Isabelle reminded her, rolling Courtney onto her back. “So you need to follow my lead. This time, you gotta open your mouth.”

Courtney nodded, glassy-eyed. At that point she would’ve followed her off a cliff. Her lips parted eagerly and Isabelle slipped her tongue inside, shifting the weight of her body so that she was pressing Courtney down into the mattress.

Hands cupping Courtney’s face, Isabelle murmured soft instructions to her. “Rub your tongue against mine...suck on my bottom lip...squeeze my butt…” Courtney tried to hear and follow as she floated through the clouds, ecstatic and breathless by the sheer proximity of their bodies, bare skin of their bellies pressed together, the scent of her strawberry shampoo.

Skin flushed and burning, Courtney arched her body up, rolling her hips, lifting her knees, rubbing against the older girl, in a state of utter lust, until she was slammed back into reality by the sound of laughter, Isabelle rolling away. “Damn, Courtney. You’re a little nympho, aren’t you?”

Courtney raised herself onto her elbows, panting, hair falling into her eyes. She tried to catch her breath, watching Isabelle straighten her top and fix her lipstick, at a loss for words.

“It’s cool if I borrow these clothes, right? I’m meeting Megan and Zoe at the mall.”

“Y-yeah. It’s cool.”

“Great. See you later!”

***

By dinnertime, Courtney was still too embarrassed to join the family. She told Mrs. Peterson that she had a stomachache. Did Isabelle think she was...what did Isabelle think?

It turned out that her fears were for naught. Isabelle didn’t seem to think anything at all about her. She spent the next few days out with her friends, mostly, and when Courtney’s mom came to pick her up that Saturday, she merely gave her a casual wave and a “see you around,” barely looking up from the fashion magazine in her lap.

They didn’t see each other much over the next school year, either, since Isabelle was in the High School and Courtney was still in Primary. It was probably for the best when her family moved again the following summer. After seeing her boyfriend dropping her off a few times, Courtney knew that there would be no more “practicing” required, and she couldn’t bear those knowing smirks Isabelle would toss her way on the rare occasion she actually acknowledged her existence. Like she KNEW something.

She didn’t know anything.

With Isabelle gone, it was much easier for Courtney to paint on a smile and be the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the little angel that everyone wanted her to be. And over the next few years, the sharp pain Courtney felt every time she thought about the older girl faded into a dull ache, a small, insignificant scar on her psyche that she barely remembered, a part of who she was without ever thinking about it.

Although occasionally, the kissing lessons did come in handy.

#galactica #au aag verse #nebula #rpdr fanfction #my fics

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walkerstormfanworks-blog · 7 years

Text

Happy Valentines to My Collaborator

@aidennestorm because we’re all jealous of that soap.

This was the worst part of his job, Alexander thought to himself. He’d never worked for someone who put in just as many hours as he did at the office before. No, before he started working as George Washington’s assistant he was always the first to arrive and the last to leave and his work ethic was never in doubt.

Then he’d taken the job as personal assistant to the CEO of Mount Vernon Technologies and that had changed. Alexander still did his regularly scheduled eighteen hour days and some nights it was Washington shooing him out of the office while Alexander knew the man would just end up sleeping on his office couch.

It was always on the tip of his tongue to suggest that he could stay and work. Help out if Washington needed it. No matter how Washington needed it. Then, when the other man was finally done working, they could share the narrow couch— Alexander draped over Washington like a blanket. Or under him if that was what his boss preferred. Either was fine with him really.

He shook his head and tried to push that thought away. George Washington was his boss. The CEO of the company and he’d never treated Alexander with anything but professional courtesy. He was polite. He was friendly. A little online snooping before he’d taken the job had twigged him to the fact that his boss was out. Had been out for years. Had married his long-time boyfriend as soon as it was legal and they were divorced less than two years later. Whatever had happened— and no one would ever say— George was generous with Friedrich’s alimony checks— and Alexander was in the position to know since he was the one writing them out each month.

He was the one who wrote out all the checks. Who paid George’s bills and reconciled his accounts. Made sure Virginia Power was paid and ordered the groceries that George’s housekeeper emailed him about each week. He saw the charges for Louie’s— a low key gay club— where George went once a month. More if they landed a good deal and he felt the need to treat himself. A little more snooping and Alexander realized his boss’s bar tabs was for three drinks at most and then a second charge for a private dance with a stripper named Ben (that had taken a little more, slightly less legal snooping, not that Alexander had been troubled about that). Once he’d seen a picture of the boy it was all Alexander could do to keep from driving down to that bar and punching pretty, perfect, porcelain skinned Ben dead center of his pouty pink lips.

“Stalker much?” His roommate Hercules had laughed when he saw Alexander fuming the Sunday that he’d finally given in to his natural inclination to snoop.

“He’s just—” Alexander ran his fingers through his hair and groaned.

“Getting paid to grind his ass on a dick you’d be happy to grind on for free?” Hercules suggested.

“Shut up.” Alexander glared at him. “It’s not—”

Hercules raised an eyebrow at him.

“He’s just…” Alexander pointed at the strippers promo picture on the club’s website. Pretty and smiling and muscular. He looked mischievious and playful and like he didn’t obsess over the tiny details of reports. He could probably contort himself into two dozen weird sex positions and liked to be tied up. He probably didn’t snore or toss and turn when his lovers spooned him. He was always this close to turned on and no one had ever broken up with him because he was too vanilla in bed. “Well look at him.”

“Meh.” Hercules shrugged. “He’s all right.”

“Well George thinks he’s gorgeous obviously.”

“George thinks he’s figured out the right combination of wiggle, grind and moan,” Hercules retorted. “You see any other date charges? Any diner purchases after that club closes? Fancy clothes at shops marketed to young and spending a sugar daddy’s money.”

“No but—”

“But nothing,” Hercules answered. “You know as well as I do ‘don’t fuck the patrons’ doesn’t apply when it comes to a whale like George Washington. That man walks into the club and a sign that says Available Sugar Daddy appears over his head in blinking rainbow colored neon.”

Alexander had growled at the thought of some slut taking advantage of his George like that. His boss, he’d reminded himself. His boss, George. Not his George. George wasn’t his. Because Alexander knew George was gay. And George knew Alexander knew that George was gay.

And George knew that Alexander was gay. He’d been silently supportive in a low key way when John had decided that John and Alexander and Alexander’s job wasn’t the type of threesome John was looking for and decided to tell him that over text— while he was at work. He’d taken Alexander’s phone from him as he’d sat there, staring at John’s text rant about how selfish he was, and how he was a workaholic. He’d shut the phone off and put it in his own pocket as texts about how Alexander didn’t appreciate John and didn’t meet his needs and how he was boring in bed and their sex life sucked and—

His stomach squirmed at the thought of George reading those texts. Some part of him knew that his boss hadn’t. Wouldn’t invade his privacy that way. But the idea of George Washington seeing John discuss all his failures in bed? Jesus, no wonder the man didn’t want to fuck him.

George had just put a hand on his shoulder and given it a squeeze. Had ordered from Alexander’s favorite deli for lunch and gotten curry from his favorite takeout place. He’d even ordered a double order of samosas and only taken one— leaving nine for Alexander because George knew they were his favorite. So he was gay and George was gay and they both knew they were gay and single. But somehow that didn’t seem to link up in the way that Alexander wanted— which was him, spread out across George’s bed, stark naked and freshly fucked, his boss laying beside him.

Which brought him back to the worst part of his job. George had slept at the office the night before and Alexander had stopped to pick up his dry cleaning and come in to find his boss in his shower. And a client in Japan was on the phone and he was not going to talk to anyone but Mr. Washington and he was going to do that now. He was not leaving a message for Mr. Washington to call him back. And yes, he’d hold.

He knocked on the bathroom door. “Mr. Washington?”

He knocked again. No answer.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before reaching for the knob. The last thing he needed was to see the boss he had a massive crush on naked and dripping wet in the shower. Not today. Not with the way his libido was going.

He turned the knob and opened the door, staying on the other side. “Mr. Washington? Sir?” His voice cracked on the last word.

“Mmmm.” His boss let out a groan and Alexander felt himself stiffening.

He peeked his head around the door and glanced in. There was Washington, eyes closed, head tilted back under the spray as he ran a bar of soap across his heavily muscled chest.

Alexander licked his lips as he saw soap suds slipping down George’s abs, following the bar of soap. God what he wouldn’t give to chase those bubbles with his tongue.

George continued to scrub lower and for the first time in his life Alexander found that he was very much jealous of his boss’s soap.

George put the soap aside and reached down to palm himself and Alexander swallowed. This is definitely where he should speak up. He should let his boss know that he was there. He should clear his throat or say George’s name. He should not watch his boss—

The other man started to stroke his length and all rational thought left his brain. He should definitely say something. Anything. Or just get the hell out. Run. Pretend he was never here. He should do anything other than stand here and watch as his boss jerked off in the shower.

“Alexander,” his boss moaned and the words landed like quick dry concrete around his feet, rooting him in place.

George continued to stroke and his other hand slid up the length of his body to play with his nipples.

Alexander’s licked his lips and tried to ignore the fact that he was harder than he’d ever been in his life — including the time he was fourteen and discovered gay porn and the fact that he didn’t get hot and bothered around cheerleaders like all the other guys in his group home suddenly made a lot more sense.

“Oh yes,” George moaned. “Alexander.”

He whimpered low in his throat.

“Are you going to keep watching or are you going to come and help?” George’s voice washed over him and the man didn’t even bother to turn his head or open his eyes.

Was his boss actually talking to him or was he talking to some fantasy Alexander in his head?

“Want you on your knees,” George crooned. “Want to watch you suck me.”

Yeah, Alexander reached for his tie. It didn’t matter if George thought he was talking to a fantasy in his head or not. Alexander wasn’t going to let that invitation go to waste.

He pulled himself out of his clothes as quickly as he could, dropping them just outside the bathroom door and hurried toward the shower.

Do or die time.

He pulled open the shower door and stepped inside.

George opened his eyes and gave Alexander a lazy smile. “Took you long enough.”

“I…”

His boss’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him in for a sweet kiss, tongues tangling, their erections trapped between them. “God you’re beautiful,” George murmured.

“I… um…” Alexander let his hands trail up George’s muscular chest as the other man kissed along the length of his neck. “I mean… Me… You… You’re not interested in me that way.”

“Says who?” George lifted his head so they were eye to eye and raised an eyebrow before grinding his body against Alexander’s.

“You haven’t even flirted. Not once.”

“Not in the beginning,” George answered. “You had a boyfriend. And I am a firm believer in monogamy. I don’t fuck other men’s boyfriends.”

“We’ve been broken up three months.”

“I was giving you time to get over it,” George answered, nibbling his earlobe. “I was trying to be sensitive. Besides, I very much do not want to be your retaliation fuck.”

“Not my style,” Alexander whimpered as the other man brought his hands up to start teasing Alexander’s nipples and making him squirm. “I’m more of an eat chocolate ice cream and watch Hallmark movies kind of dumpee.”

“I’ll remember that,” George murmured as he let one of his hands trail down to wrap around Alexander’s length and began to stroke. “But let’s not talk about your ex. Let’s talk about how distracting your ass is every time you lean over my desk.”

“I…” Alexander shuddered as pleasure skittered along his spine and he could feel his balls tightening as George’s fingers brought him to the edge. He whimpered as George’s grip tightened and he began to stroke faster.

“Or how many times I’ve fantasized about sitting at my desk and letting you kneel at my feet and suck my cock. How many times I’ve sat there, you just outside my office at your desk, and got myself off imagining what it would be like to fuck you in this shower. To let you ride me on that couch. Spread you out over your desk and wreck you all over those contracts you worry so much about.

White lights flashed at the sides of his eyes and every muscle in his body clenched as every cell in his body simultaneously tried to force itself from his cock.

“Good boy,” George crooned as he held Alexander up on weakened knees.

“You’re even prettier than I thought you’d be when you come.”

He squirmed out of his boss’s grip and slid to his knees, nosing along George’s length. He wrapped his lips around the other man’s cock and started to suck, swirling his tongue and bobbing his head. He wrapped one hand around his boss’s shaft to control just how far the other man could go because he’d suspected his boss was big but he was pretty sure he was going to earn some sort of merit badge for not getting ripped in half the first time they had sex.

“So good.” George panted as Alexander worked his length.

Fingers combed through his hair— not pulling, not holding him in place, just caressing him— and Alexander hummed in approval.

He felt a soft tap on his shoulder, George’s courtesy signal that he was about to come, and Alexander began to suck harder, moving his hand along the shaft and trying to coax the other man into coming.

George’s hips twitched once and Alexander tasted the first salty spill along his tongue. He swallowed and let George empty himself as Alexander drank him down.

“Mmmm.” He licked his boss clean and then tilted his head up to stare at George.

“I have a feeling you,” George ran his thumb across Alexander’s lower lip. “Are a very wicked boy. And you’re going to make it very hard to remember that I’m here to work and not spend my days seeing how sweet I can make you moan.” George reached behind him and flipped off the now cooling shower.

“It’s not technically work hours,” Alexander said as he pulled himself upright.

“Never the less,” George said as he pressed a quick kiss to Alexander’s lips and opened the shower door to retrieve two towels from the rack. “This can’t happen again.”

Alexander felt his heart drop into his toes. “Oh.”

George wrapped a towel around his own waist and then handed one to Alexander. “Which means we’re both going to have to start being very productive so we can get out of here at a reasonable hour each night.”

“I…” Alexander stared at him, failing to see the connection.

“Because if I can’t fuck you here,” George said. “I’m going to need to make sure we both have plenty of time in my bed for me to do the job thoroughly.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened. George didn’t want to not do this again. He just didn’t want to do it at work. That… That actually made sense.

“Now.” George said as he finished drying himself off and reached for the suit bag hanging on a hook on the door. “Did you come into my bathroom for a reason or was it just ‘make all your horny boss’s fantasies come true day’ and no one wrote it on my calendar.”

Come in here… Oh shit. Alexander’s eyes widened. He’d actually come in here for a reason. And it wasn’t mind blowing orgasms.

“You have a phone call. Mr. Abe from Japan. He refused to leave a message. He’s on hold.”

George snorted and Alexander could see his lips curling as he hastily pulled on his clothes. “Well, I’ll just have to tell Mr. Abe that I was unavoidably detained.”

#hamilton #alexander hamilton/george washington #whamilton #alexander hamilton #george washington #fanfic #valentines day #one shot

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