#“Kneel... Gay men...”

[frankencanon]

Just realized that Neil is pronounced the same as kneel...

"Kneel, Neil."

Huh. Never gonna look at that name the same, ever again...

[dimitriross]

[elizabethrobertajones]

trying to work out if there's any symbolism to characters having green/hazel eyes in Stormblood is futile... they all do. That said, Hien and Yotsuyu being unknowing cousins or half siblings would be the most tragic option. Hien being Gosetsu's kid because of his past throuple with Hien's parents is the best option.

Also funny: Lyse and Zenos are the blonde/blue eyes symbolically linked pair being youths competing for nations like she took all his whimsy and concern for other people in the (symbolism) womb. But if you throw in that Sadu is the other character with blue eyes, you just get a GREAT squad who would meet to brawl in the carpark at night, every night, in the Modern AU.

[brachiochannie]

princess (jung sungchan x male reader)

wherein sungchan gets fucked by his student... out of all people 

sub bottom teaching assistant sungchan, dom top student male reader, smut, college au, handjobs, morning sex, intercrural sex, protected sex, sungchan calls male reader daddy, male reader calls sungchan princess, feminization, lemme know if i missed something, not proofread 

2, 248 words

sungchan stirred, blinking softly as he took in the warm glow cast by sunlight across the room. he groans right upon feeling his head throb from the drinks he had the night before. just how much whiskey did he down last night? this might be just be his worst hangover headache to date. he glances down at his body, and sees marks scattered down his torso and thighs. abruptly, sungchan brings his hand to his neck to feel if there are any marks. safe. he won’t need to wear a turtleneck in the summer heat and he won’t feel conscious teaching in front of his students. 

sungchan moves his body. shit. there’s that soreness on his backside, and he remembers. the sound of his high-pitched whimpers and moans. his sensitive parts being licked and kissed. his face being pressed on the sheets while being fucked from behind. his knees bent toward his ears. his dick being spent from cumming again and again. fuck, he gets hard just from reminiscing from arguably the best sex of his life. he slowly turns his head upon feeling soft breathing on his side. he freezes, heart skipping a beat. of all men, how in the world did he just wake up next to you, his student in topological structures? though you were not the most participative student, you managed to have the highest marks in his class despite sleeping more than half of them. 

how dare you be so lethally handsome with your hair tousled, muscled skin on full display, with a teasing grin on your handsome face? it didn’t help that your cock was semi-erect and leaking. sungchan couldn’t help but stare. 

“like what you see, T.A. jung?” sungchan blushes. “or should i say, princess?” “shut up.” he whines, landing a slap to your chest, before turning around to hide his blushing face. 

“you liked being called princess though,” you purr, pulling him close and wrapping him around your arms. “last night, you become so enthusiastic whenever i called you princess,” you tease further, kissing his shoulder. 

sungchan screams internally. how could he switch to T.A. mode and tell his student to stop when he is being spooned and kissed in the neck by his top student he didn’t expect to be so hot and beastly in bed? is it even ethical to for him to have the raunchiest thoughts—being bent over his desk while you fuck him from behind or him kneeling down and sucking off your cock inside the classroom—about you, his student, who only appear in class with that damn gray sweatpants and compression shirt? should he condemn himself from sleeping with you and leave the room immediately? why would he when he is right here subtly rubbing his cute ass cheeks against your hard cock? screw the teaching assistant- student relationship. you weren’t in school anyway. 

he brings one of your hands to his erect nipples while the other wraps around his leaking erection. “y/n… fuck,” he moans softly once you began grinding against his sensitive hole.  “more… daddy.” 

you let out a small chuckle as you fondle and pinch sungchan’s nipples and slowly pump his aching cock. “y/n,” he whimpers loudly, throwing his head back towards your shoulder. his hand grips you by the hair before bringing you close to his neck, while his other hand grips tightly on the sheets. his core and toes curl from the pleasure building up as you twist his nipples and swirl your thumb around his pinkish tip. his moans become breathy when you lick and kiss on his neck before leaving a few marks. fuck. his far too horny to be rational. too gay to function. 

“boo, you whore,” you hum as you thrust your hard cock between his thighs. sungchan moans loudly as your cock brushes into his sensitive taint. sungchan leaks more precum upon feeling the size of your length between his thighs. “fuck, daddy, you’re so big,” he whimpers, realizing how much huger your cock feels now that he’s sober. 

“yeah?” you smirk, grabbing sungchan's hand and wrap it around your cock. his breath hitches as he strokes the fat girth and traces the veins that ran along your length before feeling your bulbous tip. “shit, that's all yours?” he asks in disbelief. 

“it’s all yours,” you whisper before closing the distance between your faces with a kiss. you lead the kiss with dominance, moving against his messy lips and tongue as you swallow his blissed out moans. he whimpers louder, squirms harder as you stroke his dick faster and twist his nipples harder. 

“mmmhhh, fuck!” the smaller male moans as he releases all over your hand. he whimpers with his head thrown back over your shoulder as you milk him throughout his orgasm. “daddy, fuck.”

you hum, leaking profusely at the delighted sounds he makes and the way his body trembles. you remove your hand from his cock and plunge it to sungchan's mouth to let him taste his release. sungchan groans languidly as he sucks your fingers. not long after, you pull your fingers out before kissing him hungrily, tasting his sweet-salty cum mixed with his drool. he lets you devour him in the kiss, lets you leave more marks in his neck while positioning himself under you. 

“fuck me now, please,” he begs, looking at you with his teary eyes. sungchan spreads his legs widely, showing you his pink hole you wrecked the night prior. “please, daddy, i wanna feel your cock inside me again” he moans, clenching and unclenching his hole while sucking his fingers to make up for the absence of your fingers inside his mouth. fucking desperate. you grin at how the edges of his rim do not even touch by how wide his hole gapes. 

you wrap your cock with the last condom in your supply before getting it slick with lubricant. “fuck, fuck, daddy, yes!” sungchan squeaks, back arched and legs spread, ready to take your length in. you both moan at how your cock slides easily into sungchan's hole before spending the minutes making out while he adjusts around your girth. sungchan cards his fingers on your hair as he sucks on your tongue. you hold him close, caging his head with your arms while grinding softly, reaching for his prostate. 

“mmmhhh.” he whimpers, wrapping his legs around your waist before tapping you at the back, to which you responded by slowly grinding your cock in his warm insides. sungchan moans and whispers so good as he looks at you blissfully with teary doe eyes. “so good, daddy,” he whimpers as he claws on your back. “do all the work, please,” he gazes with that damn fucked out look. fucking princess. 

sungchan lets out a squeal when you hoist him up, holding him by the globes of his buttocks while you position yourself on your knees and thrust upwards inside his hole. “daddy, oh god!” sungchan instantly grabs onto whatever his hands find nearest: your hair. as you pummel deeper into him, sungchan rakes his fingers on your back and shoulders while gripping your hair tighter. you hiss at the sting, yet feel so turned on by his high-pitched moans. god, how could someone so respectable inside the classroom turn into some cockdrunk whore who'd let you do anything to him? he could barely form a sentence and just curses at how good you drill him using your cock. a full 180 from someone who never stutters in the university setting. 

“happy, princess? you like being held and fucked by your student? have you no shame, mister jung?” you grunt, landing a stinging slap on sungchan's ass. “god, you're so fucking loose for me. i could use you over and over until i get satisfied.” his moans get louder, more shameless as you increase the speed of your thrusts. “fuckfuckfuck, harder, daddy!” he wraps his legs around your hips, his toes curling. 

“you're scandalous, mister jung.” he lets out a loud yelp when you flip him, positioned on all fours. a wrecked sungchan moans obscenely upon feeling his head pressed down in the pillows while you draw circles around his loose rim with your cock. “imagine the rumors if anyone knew,” you purr,  stabbing his prostate with your cock all of a sudden that air gets punched out of his lungs. “teaching assistant mister jung sungchan being fucked by his top student,” you chuckle darkly, gripping his hips while drilling him mercilessly. “imagine they'd find out you like being called princess.” his cock twitches. you pull him towards you by his hair. “how would they react once they find out you're a fucking bottom.” you smirk, spitting on his face and pressing it once again down the pillows before he'd have the chance to sputter nonsense. 

sungchan whimpers and sobs over the pillows. he may be your topology teacher but in the four corners of your apartment, he's mere cocksleeve, a toy for your pleasures as seen by the way he gets slammed down your cock. every violent slam of your cock towards his prostate and the depths of his bulging belly sends sungchan's legs shaking that he'd fall if not for you holding his hips up. 

sungchan rarely gets laid and fucked in the ass since he always gets confused as a top. him? topping? he retches at the thought. sungchan loves being a princess being taken care of, although he doesn't mind being tossed and thrown around like some useless cocksleeve. he's a sucker for cocks through and through and he'll trade anything he has to bottom under someone's mercy. such as last night. and today. 

“fuck, daddy! oh my god!” he squeals, legs buckling as he squirts, wetting your sheets below. the liquid gushes that he moans obnoxiously, gripping onto the pillows as he experiences the first electrifying orgasm of his life. he swears he must've passed out for a second that he's surprised, finding himself lying on his back, his legs pressed his chest. 

“god fucking damn, princess.” you grunt, thrusts being inconsistent. “you made a fucking mess for daddy.” you reach for his hands, which he weakly intertwined with yours. “messy little girl.” you spit on his face, to which he responded by a weak moan. your moans become increasingly louder as you feel the familiar twitch in your cock. 

you lean down, nuzzling his neck. “shit, you feel so good for me, princess. fuckfuckfuck, you're making daddy cum.” all sungchan could do was whimper at the sensitivity as his cock leaks again, threatening another release. 

“fuck, girl, i'm cumming.” you whimper loudly, pressing your face against his sweaty neck as you bury your cock deep inside him. the condom gets flooded and bloated by the hot, thick cum gushing from your cock. you bury yourself deeper inside sungchan's warmth as you empty your balls’ content inside the condom. sungchan's breathing gets labored as he squirts for the second time between your bodies. warm fluids fill up the hot sticky space between your bodies before they spill down the sheets. you both stay still together, cocks pulsating, breaths labored, high from the recent orgasm. 

sungchan makes a sound. shit, he might feel uncomfortable being crushed by your weight. you instinctively pull out before laying on your back beside sungchan. both of you stare at the ceiling in silence for minutes as you recover from the intensity of what just happened. you broke the silence first, pulling the used condom from your cock, hissing at the remaining sensitivity before tying it and tossing it to the trash bin. sungchan whimpers at the emptiness as his hole clenches around nothing. you sit up, muscled back full of scratches in full display for sungchan. but sungchan was rather focused on something else. 

“is this the part where you throw me out?” you look back at sungchan, now sitting up, learning against the headboard. he looks rather sad, right after the sex. the longer you gaze at him, you see his eyes turn sad and his lips to a pout while he fidgets with his fingers over his knees curled towards his chest. he shifts his gaze at you, like you're the lollipop longed for by the kid inside him. 

“well, not when you're sticky and probably hungry and messed up like this.” you gestured at his beautifully messed out form. “not until i have run you a bath and fed you breakfast.” silence. just you and sungchan gazing at each other. part of you wants to hold him close and give him the sweetest kisses while another tells you to think about the student-teacher relationship. you don't plan on listening to the latter. not when sungchan gazes at you more affectionately than he does with the rest of his students. not when your hands heat up and both your eyes meet when you hand him your homework. not when you want to hold him close and feel the heat of his body against yours. 

“unless you want to go.” you stand at the edge of the bed and grab a few wipes before cleaning his body. there goes the butterflies again. the blush in his cheeks. the beating of his heart getting faster whenever your skin touches his. he'll definitely hurt himself suppressing the feelings deeper than attraction. 

sungchan holds you by your arm. “lay down with me, please?” he asks, teary, hopeful eyes meeting yours. his grasp firm, with no intent of letting your hand go. 

you say nothing, gently removing his hand from yours, before laying on the clean side of your large bed. “come here,” you gesture, extending your arms towards him. 

“baby.” 

[nobigsecrets]

In honor of Buck and Tommy's anniversary here's a (rather random and incomplete) list of fic I read and loved and bookmarked throughout the past year. Happy reading! 🩷💜💙

the air it hurts by Anonymous Rating: G, Words: 7,569 After Tommy gets hurt in a near-fatal accident, he learns that there are some things he doesn't have to be afraid of. And that he no longer has to feel jealous of the family he left before it became one.

Relax and Breathe by @nine-one-wanton Rating: M, Words: 2,213 Tommy teaches Buck some introductory yoga. And Buck can’t stop wondering.. “Are we still talking about yoga?”

i want it all by @firehose118 Rating: M, Words: 964 Tommy kisses Buck and Buck understands why he gets so horny at the gym.

smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze. by milominderbinder Rating: T, Words: 4,059 Buck meets Tommy Kinard while rescuing him from a car accident. Buck's got no problem with being flirted with on the job, really, it's just — well, it's not usually older men with biceps bigger than his head who are doing the flirting. And he didn't really expect how much he'd like it.

Second Wind by Persiflager Rating: E, Words: 2,210 “I want to blow you,” says Evan, kneeling in between Tommy’s legs. “Knock yourself out,” says Tommy, because he’s generous like that.

i'll make a wish on a star (and i'll wish i was home once again) by @26-cats-in-a-trenchcoat Rating: M, Words: 9,735 tommy and evan have big feelings after jee-yun picks the 1983 best of ernie cassette tape as her bathtime soundtrack when they're babysitting. they figure it out. pinkie promise. or: the best thing the buckley parents ever did was bring maddie's old boombox and tapes with them while visiting california.

they begin by @screamlet Rating: M, Words: 12,784 Buck, lost in the bisexual sauce, seeks counsel from his elders: his boyfriend, his co-worker, and her wife. AKA: Buck, Tommy, Hen, and Karen go on a big gay double date.

Hotshots' Number Two Fans by @herrmannhalsteadproduction Rating: T, Words: 7,748 Tommy gets sucked into the Hotshots fandom. (It's Karen and Maddie's fault.)

makes me want to pull you closer by @screamlet Rating: M, Words: 2,674 Buck finally takes Tommy up on his offer to fly somewhere sometimes. The trip is shorter than they expected.

Closet Conversations by @eyesonstars-feetonground Rating: M, Words: 10,559 After his boyfriend dumps him, Evan Buckley goes on a date, makes a new friend, has some conversations, and realizes he's queer. Tommy haunts him every step of the way.

We shall by morning / Inherit the earth. by Anonymous Rating: T, Words: 4,621 Karen offers Buck a political perspective, looking for a political victory, in the face of everything.

Misperception by @emphasisonthehomo Rating: M, Words: 7,289 There’s a new kid at Harbor. He’s the youngest rookie they’ve ever gotten, one of those guys that went for the academy right out of high school. He’s also gay. Flamboyantly gay. Tommy’s jealous. OR It doesn’t occur to Tommy that he should come out.

Truth or Dare by writerdot Rating: E, Words: 1,114 Buck and Tommy and a kind of new beginning.

These are the days of miracle and wonder by @geddyqueer Rating: M, Words: 4,080 Tommy goes grocery shopping, runs into his ex's sister, gets stuck in the middle of a shelter-in-place order, and delivers a baby. Things only get more awkward from there.

"I'm different, too" by federaldust Rating: E, Words: 5,406 Buck takes Tommy back to his place after Chimney and Maddie's wedding. any part of this series can be read as a standalone.

Won't You Come By and See Me (I'm a Love Letter Away) by @dharmaavocado Rating: T, Words: 42,149 In which Buck's world gets bigger and he tries to be better.

A tunnel to crawl through by @geddyqueer Rating: E, Words: 25,538 Tommy makes a decision. Buck meets him halfway. (TW Suicidal Thoughts, Self Harm)

from the shallows to the deepest end by @gaytommykinard Rating: M, Words: 10,557 Evan Buckley (an ally) signs up on Grindr looking for a fake boyfriend to take as his plus-one to his parents' wedding anniversary. Tommy Kinard (guy who should know better) agrees to be his date.

>>> Part 2

[redroomreflections]

Her Best Secret Final Chapter

1950s Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Natasha and R are having an affair.

Note: I wrote this after watching Mother's Instinct with Anne Hathway and Jessica Chastain. I needed to make it gay. I don't know what this truly is, but it's here.

Note: Me and my cliche endings. It's my own personal trope at this point.

w/c: 7k

Natasha could tell a lot about a person by the shoes they wore.

Scuffed boots meant hard work and long days spent on their feet. They were usually worn by men who were sleazy enough to give her looks but too tired to be bothered. Shined leather meant money and status—someone who never had to kneel or scrub. Those types showered her with presents and toys to keep her out of the house.

Women’s shoes were different. More challenging for her to understand. Her mother’s shoes had always been worn thin, heels clicking against wooden floors as she danced with the newest addition to their lives. Neena Romanoff was not rich by any means. She knew how to work her charm. Natasha memorized how her mother moved, how she laughed at men’s jokes, and how she never let anyone get too close.

They never stayed in one place for long. A new town, a new apartment, a new man. Natasha learned to pack light to keep her expectations low. She had never met her father—never even heard his name. When she was younger, she made up stories about him, piecing together fantasies of a man who might’ve loved her mother enough to stick around. But as she got older, she stopped wondering. Neena never seemed to care, and Natasha convinced herself she didn’t either.

If anything, it taught her what to expect from people. Love, in her world, was something fleeting—conditional. People came and went, and even the ones who claimed to stay had limits.

Now, standing on the carpet of the inn, barefoot, heels abandoned by the door, Natasha wondered what her shoes said about her.

Could people look and see the times she’d cheated? Could they tell by glancing that these were the only pair she had brought when her husband kicked her out?

The leather was creased, and the soles were slightly worn. She didn't wear them often—only on nights when her feet felt like they might give out, and she needed the added support. They were her second skin—one she could take off at the end of the day.

Natasha had always preferred to walk barefoot.

She sat on the bed, feeling the springs bounce and shift beneath her. The sheets smelled clean, fresh out of the wash. She could see by now that the housekeeper was growing suspicious about her time here at the inn. It had been nearly a month, and she still hadn’t found the courage to go home. It wasn't for lack of trying. She'd called home more times than she could count.

The phone rang and rang and rang, but nobody answered.

Natasha thought maybe, after a few weeks, Steve would get tired of waiting and come to find her. But he hadn't. Not yet. He must've been more furious than she realized, which was to be expected. She wasn’t naive. She didn’t think he would forgive her and he had a right not to. 

A knock sounded on the door, and Natasha froze.

She hadn't ordered anything from the front desk or even called the kitchen.

She stood on the tip of her toes, peeking out the peephole, gasping at the occupant on the other side. She quickly unlocked the door, tearing it open and gently pulling you inside.

"You shouldn't be here," She whispered, but she didn’t let go of your wrist.

Neither of you moved for a moment. Too overwhelmed and apprehensive about how to properly greet each other.

"I had to see you," You admitted.

Natasha swallowed. She didn't know what she expected—to be relieved, to feel something solid beneath her feet again. But she only felt that same gnawing uncertainty, the same ache in her chest that hadn't left since Steve found out.

"You look tired," You murmured, scanning her face.

She huffed a humorless laugh. "I haven't been sleeping well."

"I figured," You said softly. You hesitated, then reached up, fingertips brushing the edge of her jaw. "Natasha..."

She shook her head, stepping back. "Don't. Please."

You let your hand drop.

"Why did you come?" She asked.

"To bring food," You lifted the Tupperware to show her the contents. "It's a casserole. I'm unsure if you like those, but they seem the easiest to make. And I didn't want to make anything too complex, but I figured you haven't had anything home-cooked in a while and-"

"Thank you," She nodded. "You can set it down here." She gestured. You stepped further into the room, glancing around as you set the Tupperware on the small table by the window. The place was tidy enough, but it was almost disorganized for Natasha. The sheets, though clean, were half-pulled from the mattress, the desk was cluttered with cigarette cartons and half-empty glasses of water, and a few articles of clothing were draped carelessly over the chair. It wasn’t what you expected.

Natasha had always been meticulous, with everything in its place and never a wrinkle out of line. But in this dimly lit room, it looked like she had unraveled.

You didn’t say anything about it.

Instead, you cleared your throat, smoothing your hands down the front of your dress. “Is this a bad time?” You asked, hesitating. “You don’t seem like you want to see me.”

"I do, " She said softly. "I just haven't heard from you in a week."

"I was sick," You explained. "I came down with a case of stomach flu."

Natasha raised her eyebrows.

"Really?"

"Really," You affirmed.

She glanced away, chewing on the inside of her cheek. You weren't sure if she believed you. It was better not to ask.

"How are you doing?" You tried, stepping closer to her.

She shrugged.

"You've been drinking a lot."

"Not more than my body weight," She attempted to make a joke.

"Natasha."

"What? I'm fine. I can stop whenever."

"Nat-"

"Stop it," She snapped. "Just stop. I'm fine."

You swallowed thickly, taking a step back. "Okay. Fine. You're fine."

"I am."

"Then why are you still here?"

"It's not like I have anywhere else to go," She shrugged. "No family. My friends are his friends. I'd imagine he's told the entire neighborhood."

"He hasn't," You shake your head. "Neither has Sam. He's ignoring me. Which is better than the alternative, I'd say. We've fallen into a sort of weird co-parenting situation." You wanted to explain more but didn't know how she would take it. She hadn't made much eye contact with you since you stepped foot inside of the room.

The silence between you was heavy. You shifted on your feet, fingers curling at your sides, wanting, aching, to close the space between you. You wanted to hold her, touch her, kiss her—anything to take away the pain. But you weren't sure if that would help or hurt the situation.

Natasha seemed to think so, too.

She sighed. "Why did you come, Y/n?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"And why did you want that?"

You exhaled slowly. “Natasha—”

“Don’t,” she cut in. “I know what you’ll say, and I don’t need to hear it.”

You hesitated, heart hammering in your chest. “And what do you think I’m going to say?”

“That it’ll all be fine. That things will work out. That you’re not angry.” She scoffed, shaking her head. “You should be angry. I ruined your life.”

You took a step closer, and she stiffened. She was shutting down, retreating behind her iron will, the same one that had made her so untouchable all these years.

“My life isn’t ruined,” You said softly.

Natasha laughed humorlessly, but no real fight was left in it. Just exhaustion. "You should hate me."

"I don't."

"Why?"

"Because I know how it feels to be so in love you forget what's right and wrong," You dared to lift her chin for her to look at you. "I'm not angry with you. I'm unhappy with the circumstances, but don't blame you."

"You should," Natasha repeated.

"But I don't," You shook your head. "I couldn't."

"I was reckless, and I shouldn't have kept a journal,"

"Have you been doing this all this time? Beating yourself up about all of this?" You questioned, cutting her off.

"Y/n," She warned, but she didn't back away.

"It's not your fault, Natasha."

"He hates me," She choked out, eyes brimming with tears.

You shook your head. “He’s hurt. But he doesn’t hate you.”

Natasha let out a shaky breath, her gaze darting away. “He should.”

“But he doesn’t.” You softened your voice, thumb brushing lightly over her chin before you let your hand drop. “And neither do I.”

She swallowed hard, blinking rapidly like she could will the tears away. “I don’t know how to fix this,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

You exhaled slowly. “Maybe it’s not about fixing it. I don't think this is something we can apologize for and fix. It's-" You shook your head. "We chose to be together in whatever way we could. We acted on lust at first, and then, well, we fell in love. This isn't a mistake, Nat. You can't apologize for love."

"I can try," she whispered, looking up at you.

"Why?"

"Because I broke apart a family."

"I'm not one hundred percent sure we were well put together to begin with," You bit your lip. "Also, you weren't the only one doing the work."

Natasha shook her head, eyes fluttering closed.

"Hey, none of that. Don't beat yourself up. Please." You begged.

"I have to go back eventually," she mumbled. "And he won't forgive me. I won't ask him to."

"Do you want him to?"

"I want him to understand why I did it. Why we did it."

"Nat, this was between us. No matter what he thinks, we're the only ones who could ever know the true nature of what was happening. If you tell him, great. If you don't, that's fine too. But the one thing we both have to remember is that Steve doesn't own you. Sam doesn't own me."

"So," Natasha sat back on the bed. "You're a whole new person now. With this confidence..."

"I'm not a new person," You chuckled. "I'm still the same me. But I've had a long time to think, and I've made peace with myself. And I hope you can do the same."

"I'll try."

"Can I have a hug?"

"A hug?" She smirked, standing up.

"Yeah. A hug." You smiled.

Natasha took a few steps towards you, her arms wrapping around your waist. You held her tight, closing your eyes, relishing in her touch, the warmth of her body against yours. It was like coming home after a long trip away.

"Are you going to be okay?" You whispered.

"Eventually," she nodded.

"I've missed you so much," You confessed quietly into the collar of her shirt.

"I missed you, too."

"I want to be there for you," You leaned back. "However, I can be your friend and partner. I want to support you, even if it's just a shoulder to cry on. But I need to know that's what you want."

"It is," She assured.

"Do you need more time before I see you again?" You tilted your head.

"No, no," She shook her head. "Please. Stay."

You smiled. "Then, I'll stay. However long you want me here."

Natasha kissed you, her hands cupping your cheeks, lips brushing lightly over yours. You melted into the touch, kissing her back.

When you pulled apart, she rested her forehead against yours, her eyes closed.

"How's Claire-Bear?" She asked.

"Claire is good," You nodded. " Sam and I are in this sort of silent agreement. I think he doesn't know what to do with me, so we work around each other. She's been asking about you. Says she likes the way you do braids better than me."

"Well, she has the most beautiful hair I've ever seen. She's a lucky girl."

"I agree," You smiled.

"Y/n," She paused.

"Yes, Natasha?"

"I...I know this is hard. But I want you. I want you in my life, and I know it's selfish, but I want you, even if Steve hates me for the rest of our lives."

"I want that too," You agreed. "I don't care what the world thinks of me. I know the truth."

"You're not scared?"

"No," You hesitated. "Yes."

Natasha kissed you again; this time, it was tender, as if she were afraid to hurt you. Her lips pressed against yours, soft and warm, making your heart pound and your head spin. You didn't know how long you had been without her touch. How long had you gone without feeling her skin under your fingertips?

But here, in her arms, the world was right again.

"Are you okay?" You asked, leaning back. “Truly?”

"I'm okay," She smiled.

"I can sit with you a little longer," You suggested. "Maybe help you tidy up a little?"

"You don't have to,"

"But I want to," You insisted.

Natasha kissed you, smiling softly as her lips brushed against yours. She was still smiling when she pulled away.

"Okay," she agreed. "But only because you asked so nicely."

*****

There were moments when Natasha wished she could turn back time and redo it all. When her guilt ate her alive, she could think of nothing else but how horrible she felt. When the days seemed longer and the nights were darker, she could only think about how alone she was.  She looked up at the home she'd built with Steve and felt nervous. She was not an anxious person. She was someone who was always in charge of her emotions. Always knowing what was going on and able to deal with the situation accordingly. But right now, she was lost, unsure.

It was hard.

To face the person who thought he knew her. The man who loved her.

It was difficult.

She had to live a lie, to pretend she wasn't hurting, and to smile and pretend everything was okay. She wasn't a martyr. She was the cheater. She stomped on their vows. She broke Steve's heart, so she avoided this for so long. Coming home after being away felt different. She was a stranger in her own home.

She let herself into the house. Hanging onto the key rack, she’d painted herself. The radio played softly in the background, and she could smell something cooking in the oven. She hadn't expected anyone to be home since the car wasn't out front.

He looked up, hearing the sound of her heels. His eyes widened when he saw her.

"I'm sorry," Natasha began. "I ran out of clothes and didn't expect you to be here. I can come back."

"No, it's fine," Steve shook his head. He turned back to the oven, leaving her standing there and wondering. 

"Are you cooking?" Natasha dared to ask.

"Yes," He nodded. "Well, I am trying to, at least. It's a recipe from my mom's recipe book."

"It smells good," She commented.

"Thank you,"

They stood there for a moment, both of them staring at each other. Neither seemed to know what to say or do next.

Finally, Natasha cleared her throat.

"I'll just go and grab my clothes," She hitched a thumb over her shoulder.

"Okay," Steve nodded, turning back towards the stove.

Natasha walked quickly down the hallway, not wanting to prolong the awkwardness further. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her stomach twisted. She wanted to throw up, but she pushed the urge away, swallowing down her nerves and anxiety.

She reached the top of the stairs and turned towards their bedroom. It was the same as she left it. Not that she expected there to be much of a difference. It had only been a month.

Natasha walked over to her side of the bed, grabbing her suitcase. She packed some of her favorite pieces and another pair of shoes.

"Natasha,"

Steve's voice was gentle, almost hesitant. She didn't respond; she just continued packing.

"How are you?"

"Fine," Natasha shrugged, her gaze focused on the clothes.

"The inn's getting expensive," He tried again.

"I know," She nodded.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do?"

Natasha paused. She glanced up at him but couldn't look him in the eye.

"No," she answered honestly.

"We should talk," Steve said. "About us."

''Is there still an us?"

"Of course," He replied.

Natasha swallowed thickly. "I can't go back to how things were."

"I know," Steve shrugged. "I don't want to either."

"You didn't do anything wrong," She started. "You were perfect. You are perfect."

"I'm just not her," He finished.

Natasha sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping forward. "Yeah."

"When did you know you were a lesbian?" His brows furrowed as if it were painful to say.

Natasha hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. "I'm not sure."

"Did you have a crush on your best friend in middle school? The way you would talk about her always seemed a little odd."

"I did," Natasha said. "Hilly Thompson was a girl in my class. She was smart and funny and pretty. But I didn't realize I was in love with her until we got older. After she moved away."

"Did you ever kiss her?"

"No," She admitted, blushing. "Y/n was my first time being with a woman."

"How many times have you slept with her?"

"Steve, that's-"

"How many times?"

"Eight or ten? It could be more. I haven’t exactly counted. It was only a couple of months."

"That's all?"

"It's not like we had time."

"Was it the sex that made you cheat? I could do more. We could try new things," He suggested. "I know I wasn't as experienced when we got married."

"Neither was I, Steve," Natasha sighed.

"What if I learned," He swallowed. "Would that be enough for you?"

"What are you saying?"

"That I can't lose you," He admitted. "That I don't want to lose you."

"I don't think changing how we have sex would make me feel any different," She swallowed.

"We never had children," Steve looked down at his feet.

"We tried," Natasha pointed out. "It wasn't something we could control. It just didn't happen for us."

"You didn't want a baby, did you?"

"Not especially," Natasha sighed. "But I wouldn't have minded."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you did." Natasha shrugged. "I wanted to be a mother. Then I didn't. When we found out I had trouble conceiving, I just threw the idea away."

"What else aren't you telling me?"

"There isn't anything,"

"Don't lie."

"I'm not. I'm not lying," She shook her head.

Steve sat on the bed, his hands folded in his lap. "Then why did you come back here at this time? You know my schedule like the back of your hand. You knew I’d be home.”

"I didn't know what else to do," She admitted. "I missed you. I came to get my clothes, but part of me hoped to see you."

"Have you seen her?"

"Don't make me answer that," Natasha swallowed.

"So, you have," He nodded, a bitter tone seeping through his words.

"Yes," Natasha exhaled. "We've talked."

"You have an affair with a married woman, and you still choose her over me," He chuckled.

"Steve-"

"No, no. I understand. You two have history. I'm just the one who had to find out the hard way."

"It's not like that. If I could, I would go back and change it all," Natasha insisted. "Please believe me."

"What happened? Did you realize she was the love of your life?" He scoffed.

"Yes," Natasha said without thinking.

"You're serious?" Steve gaped.

"You wanted the truth," She sighed.

"She's not leaving Sam," Steve stated. "I've seen them together recently."

"I don't care," Natasha shook her head.

"But she's still married, and she's the mother of a young child."

"And I'm still married," Natasha countered.

"So you remember?"

"I'm not divorcing you," She stated.

"Then what's the point of this?"

"To give us both time to figure things out," Natasha explained. "You can't expect me to jump straight into a decision. We both have some healing to do."

"But if she leaves Sam-"

"She's not leaving Sam. He's her husband, and Claire needs both her parents."

"If she leaves him, will you run to her?"

"I don't know."

"I want a divorce, Natasha," He said suddenly.

"Okay," She nodded. "I'll get a lawyer."

"And I'm staying with Bucky until I find a place." He nodded. "You can keep the house."

"Whatever makes you happy."

"I'll have all my things out by the end of the week." He decided. "The car is at an auto shop."

"That thing crap out on you again?"

"It did," Steve nodded. "Buck's got a spare bed for me. I'll stay there."

"Okay,"

"Nat," He started.

"I'll leave," She grabbed her bag.

"I'm sorry,"

"For what?"

"For not being the right man for you."

"You were the right man, Steve."

"But I'm not her."

"No," Natasha swallowed thickly. "You're not."

"She makes you happy?"

"She does," Natasha nodded.

"Does she make you feel alive?"

"Yes."

"Like the sun's coming up inside you,"

"Yeah,"

"Then, I can't compete with that," Steve said. "I wouldn't want to."

"So this is it for us? Our marriage is just over?"

"I guess so," He tucked his hands into his pocket. "I've been thinking about joining the army again." He admitted. He didn't know why he told her. Maybe because he felt he had nothing to lose.

"Really?" Natasha raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah," He nodded. "My therapist thinks it could be good for me."

"You're seeing a shrink?"

"It helps," He shrugged.

"What do you need from me?"

"I need you to sign the papers," Steve answered.

"You have them drawn up already?"

"No, but I will."

Natasha studied him for a long moment. There was something deeply unsettling about seeing Steve like this—so resigned, so… defeated. He had fought for so much in his life, their marriage, and the future he thought they would have together. And now, he was letting go.

But what else could he do? She had given him no choice.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she admitted quietly.

“I know,” he said. “But it did.”

Steve had always been good, always steady. If anyone could have given her a safe life, it was him. She had tried to love him how he deserved—to be the kind of woman who would never stray or feel the pull of something beyond her quiet, respectable life. But trying had never been enough.

She thought of you, of the way you looked at her like she was something precious, something worth breaking all the rules for. She thought of how her chest felt lighter when you were near and how your touch made her feel like she was stepping into the sun after years of cold.

Steve must have seen the answer on her face before she could even say it because he exhaled deeply and nodded. “That’s all I needed to know.”

He wasn’t bitter. He wasn’t cruel. It would almost be easier if he were.

“Steve…”

“I’ll have the papers ready in a few days,” he said. “Take care of yourself, Natasha.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving Natasha in the middle of the room, her bag hanging loosely in her grip.

******

Through all of the commotion, Claire had been the highlight of your life. Her constant, steady presence gave you a reason to believe you were still a good person. Her tantrums gave you something else to focus on, her giggles reminded you there was still joy in the world, and when she tucked her little hand into yours without a second thought, everything felt less impossible.

She sat cross-legged in the grass, plucking petals from a daisy, humming some half-remembered tune. You stretched out beside her, letting the sun warm your face as you glanced toward the porch where Sam leaned against the railing, watching the two of you with the look he always got when he was about to ask something you were not ready to answer.

"Mama," Claire said, drawing your attention back to her. "Are you sad?"

"No, love," You frowned. "What makes you think that?"

"Because you didn't smile at my joke," She shrugged. "And daddy didn't give you a kiss for morning wake-up."

"Your dad was busy this morning," You told her. "And I was tired."

You hadn't realized how important something like a morning kiss was for her.

Claire considered that for a moment, her little fingers twirling the daisy’s stem. She doesn’t look entirely convinced.

"Do you want me to tell you another joke?"

"Yes, please." You smiled, and she beamed up at you, her eyes bright.

"Okay, okay. What did the grape say when he got squeezed?"

"What did the grape say?"

"Nothing, he just let out a little wine!" Claire burst into giggles, dropping the ruined flower in her lap.

"Who taught you that joke?" You questioned with a smirk. You weren't even sure she understood what she was saying.

"Daddy did," She said. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," You replied.

"Good." She smiled. "Mama?"

"Yes, honey."

"Will you be happy now?"

"I am happy," You promised. "I'm always happy with you."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Claire seemed satisfied with your answer, and she leaned back onto the grass, her hair fanned out around her head, eyes closed.

"Daddy, you should come over here and feel the sun with us," Claire called to Sam. You looked over to him. Family things like this made him uncomfortable now. He had been actively avoiding you except for when it came to Claire. You didn't understand how long the two of you could keep this act up.

"Sam," You sighed.

"Y/n," He began.

"I'll go," You sat up, brushing your hands off. "Spend some time with her."

"It's fine." He shook his head. "She wants both of us."

"Are you sure?" You asked.

"It's fine," Sam repeated. He walked over to the pair of you, crouching to Claire's level. She rolled onto her stomach, a smile on her lips.

"Hey, baby," He greeted. "How's the sun feeling?"

"Good," She said. "Warm and soft."

"Good," He nodded.

"Do you feel it, too?"

"Yeah," He said.

"And Mama," She pointed to you.

"I do feel it, baby," You nodded.

"Hey, why is there so much grass in our yard and not in Mr. McCready's yard?" She asked with wide eyes.

"Hmm, I don't know, pumpkin," Sam shrugged. "We take care of our yard a little better.”

"Because Mr. McCready is not nice," Claire stated.

"Right," Sam chuckled. "And you have to be nice to your plants and flowers, right?"

"Yes," Claire nodded.

"And why is that, sweetie?" You prompted.

"Because the world is beautiful, and we have to take care of it," Claire recited, and Sam shot you a grin. It was the first time he'd smiled at you in a while. Claire pushed herself up, brushing grass off her dress before taking off across the yard. She giggled in a way that indicated it would be nap time soon. It was the sort of subtle loopiness that only children could manage. You smiled after her, but a wave of dizziness washed over you when you moved to stand. You pressed a hand to your temple, blinking hard as the world tilted slightly.

"Whoa, easy," Sam said, stepping forward to steady you with a firm grip on your elbow. "You okay?"

"Yeah," You exhaled. "Just stood up too fast."

Sam watched you for a second longer before letting go. You took a slow breath, shaking off the feeling.

"She’s somethin’ else, huh?" Sam nodded toward Claire, now twirling in circles near the oak tree.

“She is,” You agreed, softening.

Sam shifted, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

"You went to see her," he said casually.

Your stomach clenched. "Sam—"

"I'm not mad," he interrupted. "Well, actually, I'm pissed, but I'm just sayin'—I know."

"I wanted to make sure she was okay," You explained. "She's alone."

"You're her best friend, I get it," He nodded.

"She is,"

"You know when we got married, I thought it was the best day of my life," He folded his arms over his chest. "I told my sister that as long as I had you, she never had to worry about me or us."

"I never thought you'd have to worry about me." You admitted.

"But then I found out about the affair." He said more to himself. "I found that this happy life that I thought was happy wasn't."

"I'm sorry."

"You've been sorry," He pointed out. "It hasn't fixed anything."

"What do you want me to say, Sam? What can I do to make it better?"

"Nothing," He shook his head. "You can't."

"We're leaving each other in limbo," You sighed. "Claire's picking up on it. I don't think you realize that."

"So, what?" He scoffed. "You're telling me I should divorce you?"

"I'm saying, I think it would be better for us."

"You mean for you," He narrowed his eyes.

"No," You denied. "This isn't what I want, and you know it."

"You can't have both of us," He said. "You can't have a husband and then have an affair. It's not how this works."

"I know that," You said, your jaw tightening. "And I don't want that. I never wanted to hurt you, Sam. I never wanted any of this."

"Then what did you want?"

"I wanted someone to love me," You whispered. "I wanted her to love me."

"Oh, so my love wasn't enough?"

"No, yes, Sam," You squeezed your eyes shut. Why were feelings always so complicated? "I told you how she makes me feel. Claire, honey, not too close to the street!" You called after your daughter.

"Why her?" He asked. "Why not someone single?" 

Why not a man? It was a question left unsaid but settled loud between the two of you. 

"Because I fell in love with her," You answered.

"And how am I supposed to trust that now?"

"You're not," You sighed.

"So what now?"

"I don't know."

Sam exhaled, his shoulders falling forward. He seemed tired, his usual optimism gone.

"What if I wanted to leave you?"

"Do you want to?"

"I don't know. It's a big decision," Sam said.

"Yeah,"

"But maybe we should think about it," He swallowed. "I didn't come from a broken home."

"I know,"

"And Claire—"

"We would figure it out," You reassured. "You're my best friend, Sam."

"You were mine too," He said, his expression painful.

"Were?"

"Am," He sighed. "You're still my best friend. No matter what. Even if I'm not yours anymore."

"Sam,"

"Don't." He shook his head. "Please."

"We don't have to figure it all out right now," You said.

"We need to figure out something."

"Yes," You nodded.

"And you want to be with her?"

"Yes," You closed your eyes.

"I guess I can't compete with that," He mumbled.

"There's no competition, Sam. This isn't a contest."

"It feels like it," He admitted.

"You're still my child's father and best friend," You explained. "No one can replace that."

"Not even her?"

"That's different."

"It shouldn't be,"

"Sam,"

"What?"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore,"

"Then what do you want to talk about, y/n?"

"Nothing."

"You can't keep shutting me out,"

"I'm not,"

"Yes, you are."

"Can we just not fight for five minutes?" You pleaded. "Just for a little bit? Most days you ignore me. Other days, it's this. Talking in circles. I think I would feel better if you just kicked me out."

"Why haven't you left yet, then?"

"Because Claire is here," You explained.

"Nah, that's not it," He narrowed his eyes at you. "You're scared."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're afraid to lose us,"

"Us?"

"Claire,"

"Of course, I'm afraid of losing Claire," You snapped.

"But you're also afraid of losing me,"

"Sam,"

"And Natasha,"

"You don't know what you're talking about," You glared.

"You're afraid you made a big mistake," He continued. "You're afraid that whatever life you had with me is the best it gets. That what the two of you have done is the biggest mistake of your life."

"It's not the mistake," You whispered. "Cheating is a mistake."

Sam exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "And yet, here we are."

You didn't have anything to say to that. Because he was right. Because you did this, both of you did. And now there was nowhere to put it—nowhere to hide from the weight of it.

Sam scrubbed a hand over his face, then exhaled. "You think I don’t know what this is like for you? You think I don’t get it?"

You swallowed, looking away. "You don’t."

He huffed out a humorless laugh. "I don’t? You don’t think I wake up every damn day wondering where I went wrong? If there was some moment where I could’ve done something different, said something different, been different? And then I look at Claire, and I think—none of it even matters. Because we have her, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. Not even to go back and fix whatever the hell happened to us."

"Are you still in love with her?" He asked after a beat.

Your breath caught.

"I don’t—"

"Don’t lie to me, Y/n," he said quietly. "Please."

Your eyes burned as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. "Yeah," you whispered. "I think I am."

Sam nodded once as he expected it like he’d known it all along. "Then what are you still doing here?"

You thought over his words. This entire conversation was almost as if he was urging you to go to Natasha.

"You should have her," Sam added.

"What are you talking about?"

"If you want her," He said. "I won't stop you."

"What about Claire?"

"I would never take her away from you," He promised.

"Mama, I have to potty bad," Claire chose that moment to abandon her flower picking.

"Come on," You sighed, scooping her into your arms. You gave Sam one last glance.

"Mama, hurry," Claire wiggled.

"I know, baby," You nodded, rushing her inside.

What now?

***********

The knock at Natasha's door came later than she was used to. She wasn't used to visitors, it was too late for housekeeping, and she wasn't expecting a second visit from you. But she knew. Before she reached for the handle and pulled the door open, she knew it was you. She hoped it was you.

"Hi," She greeted, trying to ignore the sudden flutter of her heart.

"Hey," You smiled, leaning against the frame.

"You're here pretty late," She commented.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to see you," You shrugged. "Can I get a proper hello this time?"

"Really?"

"Yes," You grinned.

Natasha stepped back, pulling the door wide enough for you to enter. Your eyes met hers, and suddenly, all the words she'd planned to say disappeared.

"Come here," She whispered, pulling you in.

"God, I missed you," You murmured against her mouth, hands sliding over her hips.

"How much?" She challenged.

"So much," You pressed another kiss to her lips, this one harder, more desperate. Natasha moaned softly, tugging at the hem of your shirt. You broke the kiss only long enough for her to pull it over your head.

"Not that I'm not happy that you're here," She said through peppered kisses against her neck. "But I thought we weren't doing this. At least until we figured things out."

"What if I said they're figured out?"

"Sam-"

"He wants a divorce," You explained. 

"Oh," Natasha breathed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not," You shook your head. "But, we've been talking and... I can't stop thinking about you. So, we decided—"

"We?"

"We talked," You nodded. "A long talk. Lots of wine and tears. He's willing to let me go."

"To me?"

"If I want," You confirmed.

"And you want this? Us? All the things that come with it?"

"More than anything."

"Are you sure, y/n? Because the second we do this, there's no going back. You know that, right? We won't be able to show or tell anyone."

"I don't care," You cupped her cheeks. "As long as I have you and Claire has us. I don't care what the world thinks."

"And what about your family, y/n? The neighborhood? We have to keep things a secret."

"I'm a sinner," You shrugged. "So, fuck them. I want you. All of you. And no matter how hard the world tries, they won't be able to take us apart."

"What's gonna happen with Sam?"

"He's keeping the house," You explained. "For Claire's sake. There will be too many changes for us to take away from her right now."

"Will he tell?"

"No," You shook your head. "I'm the bad guy here, not him. It's easier for him this way."

"How are we going to do this, y/n?"

"One day at a time," You answered. "I have no idea. I have no clue what the future holds, but I know I want you, Natasha."

Natasha leaned in, kissing you softly. "You have me, Y/n."

"I love you," You mumbled.

"I love you,"

"Natasha," You breathed.

"Yeah?"

"Let me touch you," You whispered.

"Okay,"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," She nodded. "Touch me."

Your hand slid under her nightgown, caressing the skin of her stomach. Natasha gasped, arching into your touch.

"Bed," She urged, tugging you by the hand.

You followed her inside, pressing her up against the wall and kissing her hard. Her nails dug into your shoulders, and you hissed, grinding your hips into hers. You hadn't realized how much you missed her until you were touching her. Her lips were everywhere, and her touch seared.

"I've been thinking about this," You told her, pulling her top over her head and letting it fall to the floor.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes,"

"What else have you been thinking about?"

"About your legs around my waist and your nails on my back," You said as you fell back onto the bed.

"That's a lot of thinking," She smirked as she hovered over you.

"I've had time," You ran your hand up the back of her thigh, tugging her toward you.

"Show me," She urged. And you did just that.

After what could have been hours of lovemaking, you collapse onto the bed with Natasha in your arms. She traced patterns into the skin of your chest as she cuddled closer.

"There's something different about you?" Natasha broke the silence.

"Is there?"

"Mhmm," She hummed. "I don't know. Maybe it's the sex. It's been a while since you've had any."

"Maybe," You chuckled. "I think it's more than that."

"Do tell,"

"I finally found a way to live without lying," You explained.

"How's that?"

"By not hiding who I love," You turned and kissed her forehead.

"You're cheesy,"

"You like it,"

"Maybe,"

"Tell me something,"

"What?"

"What are we going to do next?"

"I found a place right outside of Colombus," Natasha began. "Just a drive away. It's beautiful. I've already put an offer on it."

"They let you do that? By yourself?"

"I have a good realtor," She grinned. "And they're not a bunch of close-minded assholes like around here."

"So, when are we leaving?"

Natasha smiled wide at that.

"We're doing this,"

"I love you, and I don't want to spend another day without you,"

"You know I was so scared to let myself have this," She admitted. "I knew what the consequences were."

"And now?"

"Now I have hope," She answered.

"For us?"

"Yes,"

"We can make it work,"

"I know,"

"You're so beautiful," You breathed.

"And you're sappy," She giggled.

"But I'm all yours," You leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"Y/n?"

"Yes, my love,"

"Thank you,"

"For what?"

"For giving me a chance,"

*********

Living on Natasha's farm was a dream and a learning curve. It differed from the lives both of you led in the city. Natasha divorced Steve. They kept minimal communication as he kept true to his word and joined the army. You and Sam were still married but had plans to divorce eventually, wanting to avoid raising suspicion. Sam ended up selling the family house and moving to the next town much closer to the farm. So Claire still had that stability. She loved the animals you had and didn’t fully understand the nature of your relationship, but she enjoyed having two moms.

You didn't think that life would ever be this perfect. It was better than perfect.

"Daddy's coming," Claire announced, hopping onto the porch with a bright smile. She was much taller now and certainly more energetic, if possible.

"Is he?" Natasha asked from her spot next to you on the swing.

"Yup," She nodded. "And he said he has a surprise for me."

"Oh yeah? What kind of surprise?"

"I don't know," Claire shrugged.

"Did you give him any hints about what you wanted?"

"I already had my birthday," She furrowed her brows.

"So a late gift,"

"Yeah,"

"It must be a pretty good surprise,"

"It must be,"

Sam pulled onto the dirt road like always, and you watched as he parked. The door opened, and he stepped out with balloons and a box of chocolate.

"What's all that for?" You stood, walking down the stairs to greet him.

"Just a sweet gift for my pumpkin because I missed her." He greeted her with open arms.

"Hi, Daddy," Claire jumped up and hugged him. She left a slobbery kiss on his cheek that had him feigning annoyance.

"How are you, little lady?"

"Good,"

"Did you eat your vegetables like I told you to?"

"Yup,"

"And did you help Mama with her chores today?"

"Yes,"

"Good girl," He smiled. "You've gotten so tall. Soon, I won't be able to carry you."

"No, I'm not getting too big," Claire waved a hand. She wiggled out of Sam's arms to show the chocolates to Natasha, who was still sitting on the swing.

"Natasha," Sam acknowledged shortly. There was still tension there, but they were cordial. "And how's my little man?" He asked, directing his smile to the baby boy in your arms.

William Sawyer Wilson. 

You hadn't expected your belly to get bigger in the months after your separation. Swept up in the whirlwind of divorce and heartache, you hadn’t realized you were pregnant. Coparenting with Sam was already great, but another baby made you nervous. Especially since his parents and the community would question how a woman could get pregnant during a divorce, Sam and his mother had tried their best to explain it away as a miracle child, and the gossip eventually died down.

“He’s perfect,” you answered.

Sam reached out, his large hands cradling the baby’s tiny form. William blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes. “Hey, little man,” Sam murmured, his tone softer now. “You’re getting big on me too.”

You watched as Sam gently bounced the baby, his movements natural, familiar. Despite everything, the past and the tangled mess of emotions, there was no denying his love for his children and even you. After all this time, he was still a part of your life, and there was no one else you would trust more to be the father of your kids.

Sam looked up, catching your eye. His gaze was steady, unreadable. Then, his lips curled into a small, private smile.

"We did good," He nodded, and your heart squeezed.

"We did," You agreed. "Come inside, we cooked dinner."

"Daddy, do you want some cake?" Claire asked, pulling on his shirt.

"Cake?" He repeated. He bounced William in his arms and followed the three of you into the kitchen.

"Mama made it."

"Oh?" He gave you a knowing look. "Which one?" He eyed Natasha suspiciously.

"It wasn't me. You don't have to worry about it," Natasha smirked.

"It's really good," Claire added.

"I'm sure it is," Sam rolled his eyes.

"It's strawberry," You smiled. "It's her favorite."

"Can we have dinner now?" Claire asked.

"We can," Sam answered.

"And cake after,"

"And cake after,"

"Mama, can daddy come live here too?" Claire asked.

"Not yet," Sam said before you could answer. "But I'm only a couple of miles away, okay? So I can visit any time."

"How about a sleepover?"

"A sleepover, huh?" Sam looked up at you.

"Maybe," Natasha shrugged. "If that's what daddy wants."

"Then we can have a sleepover," Sam confirmed. As the conversation died down, Claire beamed, satisfied with the idea of a sleepover with all of her parents. She skipped towards the kitchen, already gabbing about setting up blankets and pillows.

You met Sam’s gaze, a quiet understanding passing between you. It wasn’t conventional; it wasn’t easy, but you were making it work. For Claire. For William. For yourselves.

Natasha stood, stretching her arms before resting a hand on your lower back. “Dinner, then?” she asked, voice warm, steady.

You nodded. “Dinner.”

Sam exhaled, a small, almost reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Let’s eat.”

And just like that, the four of you entered, the scent of home-cooked food filling the space. It wasn’t the picture-perfect family you once imagined—but it was yours. And that was enough.

[sacred3ugene]

I need a story with Nate Jacobs, where after Nate and Maddy break up, a boy appears, and from the moment Nate sees him, he falls in love and wants to protect him with all his heart. Maddy and Cassie feel jealous because only this boy was able to make Nate treat him so well, like a true prince. And if possible, Nate didn’t struggle much to come out of the closet because it was for this boy.

THERE'S THIS BOY . NATE JACOBS X MALE! READER

SUMMARY ; nate's going through a breakup, he drowns his sorrows on alcohol while at a party where he happens to meet a boy who will change his whole life - for good.

TW ; homophobia by third party.

The air was thick, the smell of booze and sweat loud among the room. People were naked, some eye catching bodies meanwhile others weren't worth of looking, that's what Nate thought.

He avoided to look too much, his eyes contradicting his mind as he catches himself looking at the dicks surrounding him in the tight place. He was drowning his sorrows in alcohol, sniffing drugs and smoking weed.

People was crashing into each other, the room full of people. There wasn't place to walk and you had to scream so your friends could hear - incoherently - what you were saying. The music was loud, the room smelled like poppers and drugs, people was naked, you couldn't speak without yelling and you couldn't move without being skin to skin with sweaty bodies, yet among so many stimulants, his eyes caught yours, lost in your mind as you didn't know where to go next.

He won't lie, you were pretty, but it ain't gay to think about other men like that, right?. I mean, it's not like he's looking at you with other eyes, contemplating every part of your face as if to remember once you're gone, or wondering why your lips looked so smooth under the dim light of the room, or how your hair started to stick against your forehead, I mean, obvious details everybody would notice.. right?

His hands gripped the bottle tightly, drinking a huge sip before walking towards you, cleaning the dripping drops off his chin with the back of his hand, like an animal ready to hunt his prey.

"Who invited you?" his rough tone loud so you can hear, attracting minor attention towards both of you. He didn't like seeing new faces wondering around his place.

You looked up, his tall entity intimidating anyone but you, his eyes were soft when spotting you, sparkling under the dark light while trying to keep up his intimidating mask.

"Friends." you answered simply, watching his face slowly wrinkling into frustration, body language was loud and he won't tolerate the new kid trying to act tough, people started to gather around, small group, but enough to pressure a fight into Nate's shoulders. "Why?"

He ignores the people around him, an action even him is shocked to do, he was all about throwing fists to anyone who would get in the way, but is the new kid who avoids them all of the sudden. "Have fun.." he left, trying not to catch any words as he passes through the multitude, going upstairs to his room.

"Fuck!" he slams the door shut, holding himself in place to not destroy his whole room as he watches his facade fall apart before his eyes, the man he used to be kneeling to the feet of the unknown new kid in town.

The click of the lock tries to keep his violent manners inside his room, throwing a lamp as he walks to his bed, laying in there, hands in his face wanting to erase him from earth. "What the fuck..." the whisper falls from his lips, the doubtful feeling tingling inside his body while the world falls shut. "What the fuck is wrong with me." some tears start to draw a path down his face, wetting a spot in the pillow.

Nate tries not to cry, something he can't get to control, the internalized homophobia everybody around him taught him too much to bare. He's feeling something he shouldn't, he knows. Why would he feel this was towards someone unknown and that is a man?

He feels drowning in his own breath, his head spinning around too much it makes him dizzy, his veins popping out his arms as he grips his hair tightly, wanting to erase the face of that boy out of his mind, wanting not to have these self-destructive thoughts.

"So new kid, what is the life of a fag like you in the city?" he chuckles quietly, enjoying how much he is annoying you, knowing you can't really beat him because that would cost your scholarship.

"Fuck you!" you say, rolling your eyes as you try to grab some books inside your locker.

"Watch out what you sa-"

"Hey, don't mess with him." a rough yet quiet voice gets between you and the guy trying to pick on you. Nate doesn't look like playing games, so the guy is quick to walk away while giving you a last glance. "You okay?" he whispers, loud to hear, two girls look at you from a couple lockers away, the unexplainable jealousy in their eyes pierce through you.

"Yeah" you give the simplest answer. From the biased mouths, you heard he wasn't someone to trust, so you try not to put so much attention to him, although his actions contradict the popular opinion, maybe his violent and horrible persona will soon appear.

He opens the locker next to you, grabbing some books and placing them in his bag. Great, just what you needed. "So, you're new."

"Is that a question or...?" you could swear you hear everybody holding their breath, as if you've just challenged the king to a death ending battle. He laughs, a cute, sweet chuckle as he lowers his head, his teeth shining through his smile. Pretty, you think to yourself.

"What i meant is, where you come from, you're not from here, right?" everybody exhales, his body language doesn't show any signs of frustration or annoyance, and you're starting to think people were on drugs when they told you he was not a good person.

The bell rings, an annoying sound that causes you satisfaction as the school day ends, saving you from a very awkward interaction that you had ever since you came here.

"My number's 01---" he says quickly, your body spinning around to face him, a proud smile planted on his face as he watches you leave. "Fuck..." he mutters to himself, a new feeling burning inside him tells him he might be in love.

"Hey." you greet, your eyes looking up at him, a shy smile forming as he wiggles his finger that hold the strap of his backpack in his shoulder. "Sooo..." your eyebrows move in direction to the two gorgeous girls whispering to each other while they look at you, quickly removing their eyes off you when Nate looks back at them.

He chuckles slightly, letting his head fall, looking to the ground before looking at you, his smile somewhat fading as he talks. "She's my ex girlfriend and her friend, Maddy and Cassie." he explains exhausted, as if the memories still hold a heavy position on him. "She's a crazy bitch if I'm being honest." his characteristic smile is contagious, stealing a small chuckle from you as he opens the locker, shoving some books and belongings inside.

You've been chitchatting for a while now, you got to know him better, although you're still cautious, the people's advice ringing in your head everytime you look at him. You try to ignore those people, he's different, you know it, you can see it in his eyes, maybe as if you're the reason he's like this.

"I was thinking mayb-"

"Shit." you rolled your eyes, watching the guy who likes to pick on you getting closer, his cocky smile glued to his face.

"What?." he turns around, his eyes lock on the same guy as he passes by, embarrassedly walking away once he spot Nate next to you. "Ain't he the asshole that was annoying you?" his tone's rough, protective rather, looking at you with his brows frown, obviously upset.

"Don't worry about it-"

"I do worry about it!" he cuts you off, eyes penetrating through you, his frustration and anger showing, your alerts starting to go off as you remember people's words on his behavior. "They shouldn't be picking on you just because you're a new face in this shitty neighborhood." yet, you can't but look at him with adoration as he tries to protect you, to shield you from the ones who are problematic.

"You worry about me?" and with the loud bell ring, the conversation ends, and you know nate is thankful of that, almost as if he was praying to not have this conversation. But you won't let it go so easily. "No, answer to me first!" you raise your tone, people looking at you, eyes advising you not to.

"I guess." he roughly shakes his arm, taking your hand off him as he walks away, knowing you had broke through the walls he had worked to build for no one to see who he truly was, he's now watching them crumble thanks to the new boy in town. "I'll see you at my house, I'll dm you the address." he tries to sound angry, trying to get angry at you with a failing outcome. You just smile, mesmerized as he disappears into the crowd of people trying to get to their classes.

"You're lucky, he's most of the time selfish." the black-haired girl whose moments ago was gossiping about you with her friend irrupts your thoughts, your eyes filled with confusion, to which she laughs. "You'll see his true colors once it's too late."

She leaves, giving you a last glance before walking with her blonde friend, who also gives you a last glance, although she gives you a more threatening one, you're stealing something from her.

The night is cold, the birds singing start to shut as they fly to sleep, the moon is the only source of light in the dark of his room, his laugh being the only noise filling your mind. His feet at the end of the bed caresses yours as his eyes speak more than his words could. "You're pretty..." he speaks between giggles, eyes shining and reflecting the full moon.

His smile, his paper white teeth, his slightly closed eyes as he laughs, his wrinkling nose, his hollow cheeks, everything about him is perfect to say the least, everything everyone said about him falls into lies as you start to think how can someone hate somebody like him.

You can't deny it, you feel like floating everytime his eyes are put on you, it doesn't matter what he'll always look for you gaze, your heat rises along with your heartbeat everytime your feel his strong arms wrapped around you. And he can't deny it either, he can't deny the nameless feelings he has for you, the way he has more patience since he met you, that he's growing a big soft spot on you.

"Pretty?" you question, staring at him in look for answers, a cocky smile on your face as he shuts, eyes a little wide. "You said I was pretty-"

"Pretty funny!" he cuts you off, exclaiming as he regains his posture, sitting with his back straight against the wall, avoiding to look at you at all cost. "You're pretty funny- I mean you're funny, you make me laugh and you're pretty as well but that it's not what I meant- I mean I do mean your pretty because you are but you made me laugh and that's what I wanted to say, you're pretty.. and funny." his breath is heavy, chest rising up and down after speaking more words than he should have.

The room stays quiet for a while, both of you looking in separate ways, trying to figure out what to say or whose going to talk first. Silence, silence and silence.

"I need to go to the bathroom, sorry." he abruptly gets up, leaving you alone in his room watching him part, and it's in that brief moment you find yourself holding your hand in the air, trying to make him stay and failing.

You swallow, your mind not knowing what to think, your lips dry as they try to look for words to say to make him come back. I should give him time, you think.

"Actually no!," Nate comes back, entering the room with outstanding energy in his body, as if adrenaline was running his his visible veins in the dark. His breath still heavy as he tries to force himself to say something you still don't know. "I-" he stops, rethinking his words before he makes a mistake. "I like you..."

The once awkward silence becomes anxious, his words lingering in the air as you try to process what just happened, the words that come out of his mouth so quick that it stuck you.

"Say something, please." words fall from Nate's lips in desperation, his eyes soft, almost pleading you for mercy, pleading you to say it back.

"I like you too, Nate." the wait ends, his eyes widening in excitement as his lips curl into a smile that you never seen on his face, throwing himself in bed, crawling to you and softly grabbing your face between his big hands.

Your eyes met for a brief moment, the world felt heavy, it stopped spinning, the air was lacking as your faces got closer, eyes blind as your lips sew together, the night young and the moon the only witness of the passion igniting in the room.

The soft caresses of his fingertips are enough to make you sleepy, laying your head on his lap, fingers tangled around your hairs and the soft cracking noises of the leafs make you feel in heaven.

You know he's looking at you, admiring you better said, eyes unable to unglue from your beauty. If you would said to Nate the same day he met you he'll be falling in love with they new boy in town, he would probably beat the shit out of you, send you to the hospital and leave you paralyze for the rest of your life instead of ignoring it, but here you have him, looking all dumb for the boy he thought was just another person in his life he felt curious about.

"Woah, Nate, I didn't knew you liked cocks." a voice makes you open your eyes, trying with your whole strength not to beat him after he broke the most beautiful moment of your life. "Mostly from guys who are new around here." he gives you the most disgusted look ever, why the fuck is this guy so obsessed with you, that looks more gay than nate jacobs hugging a guy.

"What, you're jealous?" Nate is unfazed by the boy's words, still caressing your hair as he tries to ignore him, a drastic change in his behavior that has everybody around surprised.

"What? No!" the guy is quick to answer, dismissing the question with a disgusted tone. "That's gross!"

"Then why are you so obsessed about who I fuck or not?... Mhm? That sounds fucking gay to me!" everybody stays silence, and when I mean everybody, I mean everybody, you can hear the birds chirping so clear it hurts your ears. The boy tries to formulate words, falling into deep silence when he doesn't found anything to refute Nate's claim.

His big arms wrap around your torso, as if he was afraid of someone else taking you away from him, still unfazed by the boy's presence. You hear his steps as he leaves, knowing it'll take him a time to recover from the wild comeback. Oh, how you love a man who knowa how to fight - fist included -.

"I love you." you hear him mutter before closing your eyes, feeling his lips press against your forehead and a few ' awws ' in the back from some girls. "I love you too." you respond, knowing he'll always have your back, in every sense - pun intended -

A/N ; i totally forgot about this acc omg, anyway here's this soft little fanfic - if u can call it so - about our favorite toxic man, nate fuckin jacobs. tell me how i did and please give me some honest feedback so i can do better for next time. thank u for your time and hope you enjoyed my writing.

dividers credits ; cafekitsune

Remember you are loved and appreciated, stay hydrated !!

[m1lfsh4ke]

Hiii! I adore everything you’re doing on your account (thank you for fueling my gay panic 😚)

I’d love to request an Emily Prentiss x reader that is just,,,,pure filth. Dom Emily, mommy kink, strap-on, gray hair, the whole nine yards. I want Emily Prentiss to call me a good girl so damn badly. Go wild with it.

Thanks :) -🧪

Overcome by Jealousy 18+

Pairings - CME Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: smut • blowjobs • strap-on • squirting • hair pulling • choking • mommy kink • Dom!Emily • Sub!Reader • praise • degrading

Summary: During a night out at the bar with the team, Emily caught a glimpse of you flirting with the bartender at an attempt to get free drinks for you and everybody else.

I actually haven’t written anything in a hot minute, so I apologize for the lack of everything in this

Emily groaned, one of her arms keeping her balanced on the wall in front of her while the other went to create a messy, makeshift ponytail on your hair.

You were kneeling in front of her. Trapped between the wall and Emily’s hips thrusting forward making you gag on her strap. You look up at her with dark, watering eyes as she drives her cock deeper into your throat.

Saliva began to trail from the corners of your mouth and down to your chest, creating quite the view for Emily.

“God, you look so good like this.” She panted, dropping the bunched up hair she held in her hand to push your head deeper until the faux cock rested in your throat, nose touching the base of her strap.

“Oh god, sweetheart- fuck, that’s it. Take me-“ she whimpered, beginning to move her hips again. You knew by her erratic pace that she could feel the strap rubbing against her clit.

You let out a gagged whine, her gaze not daring to look away at the sight she had kneeling in front of her. Your hands were placed on her thighs to stabilize yourself.

“You like that, baby? Having a mouthful of mommy’s cock shoved down your throat?” She taunted, slamming the strap deeper into your mouth as you choked out a pool of saliva. Emily was taking in the sight of tears running down your cheek with the visible outline of the strap in your throat.

When she hit a particular thrust, you let out a gagged moan, slipping your mouth away from Emily’s cock to gasp out huffs of air to try and catch your breath. A trail of saliva kept you connected as you looked up at the older woman with your heaving chest.

Leaning back on your heel, you felt a tight hold on your hair immediately bringing you back up to your feet. Emily turned around to push you down onto the soft duvets of her bed before she made her way towards you.

“You’re a fucking slut, aren’t you?” She seethed, kneeling in front of you to spread your legs open as she lined up her cock against your already soaked pussy. “Is this what you do when I’m not watching?” She slammed her hips forward, not even letting you adjust to the size of the 9 inch strap. “You flirt with trashy men who aren’t good enough for you to get free drinks?”

Emily never faltered when it came to her rough pace. She was practically pounding you into the bed, one hand wrapped tightly around your throat as the other pressed down against your lower abdomen to feel where the strap is hitting.

“God- fuck- mo-mommy!-“ a broken moan was forced out of your throat as she violently drove her cock in and out of you, leaving the room to fill up with your cries of pleasure and pain with squelching noises coming out of your sopped pussy. “Please, I can’t-“ your back arched off the bed, eyes glued shut while your legs began to involuntarily close as you reached your first orgasm.

Emily slowly pulled out, leaving just the tip before she pounded the whole length inside of you, setting her brutal pace again. “Fuck!- t-too big“ you spoke between when her hips met yours sharply. You couldn’t help but shut your legs closed again to which Emily’s response to that was to pull them apart.

“Nuh uh, none of that.” She tutted, pushing your legs open by your thighs. “Hold them apart and show mommy how much of a slut you are.” Of course, you complied. You held them open from the area under your knees as the older woman hummed in approval.

Her hand returned back to grasp your throat as the other drew lazy circles around your clit, driving you crazy. You were close. So fucking close to reaching another orgasm for the second time tonight.

“So pretty. Such a pretty fuck doll for mommy, aren’t you?” She questioned, fingers tightening just a slight around your throat as her cock drove harder into you. “Yes- I-Im your pretty fuck doll!-“ you wept with each of her thrusts. She was quite literally fucking you into another orbit as you never had a second thought about the words that came out of your mouth.

“Good girl, I love when you’re vocal for me.” She leaned down to kiss the spot just right below your ear as she softly sucked on your earlobe. It’s almost like that had been your breaking point.

“M-mommy- it’s too much- please, I can’t-“ you dropped your thighs, hands coming up to claw at Emily’s shoulder blades as your body began to shake. Though her pace slowed down the slightest since she leaned down to you, she fucked into you harder again, lifting up one of your legs and letting your ankle rest over her shoulder with an arm wrapped around your thigh.

“Be a good girl and give me one more, yeah?” She panted, brushing away hairs that covered your face as she placed a gentle, loving kiss to your cheek.

“Oh fuck, mommy, shit—!” Your mind went blank, a chant of high pitched moans bounced off on each side of the walls, feeling yourself squirt around her cock as she continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

“That’s it, such a good girl for me..” she spoke above a whisper. Slowing down her pace as she let you ride out your high.

You could’ve sworn that you were about to black out. Your eyes fell shut, body shaking until it lazily went into limp as your breathing was worn out. Emily was careful to remove the strap out of you as the rest of your wetness gushed down to the bedsheets.

“You okay?” You had heard the older woman ask, looking down at you with a soft expression. “More than okay.” Letting out a tired chuckle, Emily gently slapped your thigh, playfully rolling her eyes at you before she got up to rid herself from the strap.

“You weren’t supposed to enjoy your punishment, you know?”

“You make it too easy.” A lazy smile crept up your lips, signifying that you were already worn out for the night. Emily notices as she kisses your head, lying beside you.

-

Ew, I can’t stop cringing at the fact that this is so bad😭 I did get drunk a few hours ago, but this is just me genuinely forgetting how to write smut

[izanakore]

Characters: Zayne x Sylus Fandom: Love And Deepspace

TW: CNC, Somno, Gay, OOC? Idk.

“Nghh..” zayne feels his body rock in time with the heavy thrusts behind him, it was early in the morning when he felt it, their cocks have been inside him so many times, he memorized the way they fuck him “unh…sylusss” he hissed, throwing his head in pleasure, his lover leans closer, pressing his chest to zayne’s back as he sinks his teeth into the man’s neck, adding to the many marks already present “sorry snow…couldn’t help myself”, his sinful mouth traces his ear, ” you’ll forgive me, wont you?” zayne shudders, out of all of them, sylus knows all of his weakness, his most sensitive spots- “ah!” A thrust slams deeper into his sopping hole, making zayne sees stars “right there, baby?” He pulls back to grab hold of zayne’s hips, skin marred with the fingertips of his many lovers, yet to be healed.

he angles himself, raising one of his legs on the bed to kneel before he continues to slam down into the tight heat that is zayne’s divine ass, his pace getting faster and harder.

“There!…ah there!” He cries out pushing his hips back to match his lover’s brutal pace, his huge cock battering his insides like no tomorrow. “Ngh, want me to give it you, love?” Sylus reaches forward to grab zayne’s cock, the poor thing leaking like a broken fountain, with its red- almost purple tip, his hand moves in time with his thrusts. “Uh….Sylus….wanna come, wanna comeeee….”.

It was a given rule that zayne had to ask for permission to come- if he were to bottom. It wasn't a hard rule but it became something that they(everyone) seem to like doing to him and zayne has no complaint and it always makes him cum buckets. “..haa… wont you wait for daddy?…nghh!” His hips slams down even harder, sylus’s gaze is mesmerized by the intoxicating jiggle of zayne’s plump, well-trained ass with every movement, promising to mark and bruise it for the next time he eats him out.

“Im gonna fill you up..ugh will you let me baby?..huh? Let daddy fill you alllllll up?” faster and faster they move, the bed creaking with their fanatic movements, threatening to fall apart, zayne reaches behind to grab his lover’s neck, bringing him to a kiss that was sloppy, full of tongue and teeth, saliva dripping everywhere in their pursuit to reach their high, the slapping of wet skin echoed around the cold room, bouncing off the walls, no doubt letting the other occupants in the house know that their other lovers are awake and ready. Especially Zayne.

“Ahn..! Sylus! Faster,haah….” His eyes roll to the back of his head “ give it to me! Please….inside!”, his ass tightens deliciously around his beloved’s cock, “fuck!…Fuuucck” sylus’s hips stuttered, his thrusts becoming short and deep, before one last deeeeep slam inside zayne’s fluttering hole has him seeing stars and he fills his lover full of his thick release, spurts of heavy cum, fills zayne’s hole, he groans, the feeling of getting to the brim was so addicting and he never got used to it.

His hand was still on Zayne’s dick, the base hot and slicked up in so much pre, its amazing he still hadnt come yet, his other hand comes around to torturously rub Zayne’s extremely sensitive head, the tip an angry purple-red, “Syluuuuus..! ah-…Ah!” His cock finally spurts out his milk, coating his hands and the bedsheets below them, he continues stroking, milking him of all he has for just that morning.

“Ah…haaah” the doctor collapses beneath his lover on the soft bed, sheets all crumpled and sweat sticking on his skin despite the cold of the room, he groans,taking a minute to level his breathing before turning his head to glare at sylus “what time is it?” The man behind him chuckles, he slowly pulls out, a satisfied groan leaves both men, his cock was still hard and an angry red, one measly round was obviously not enough for the sex fiend, zayne eyes it dangerously. “It’s currently 4am, my little snowfox”, he leans forward to leave his sorry kisses all over his cheeks and forehead.

Zayne groans again, “ sylus, you could have just woken me up”, the fair-headed man lets out another deep laugh once more, the rich timbre sends shivers down his spine “Im actually surprised you woke up his time, you usually sleep through it..” zayne wasnt really surprised to know that,he’s already given his consent for his body to be used if sylus was ever feeling too much and no one was awake,it seems that it actually worked, with the proof usually being their naked bodies together and a pleasant ache in his ass that wasnt there before.

Now he’s not mad, if anything he feels happy in a way, that his body doesn’t fight back as proof of their unwavering trust in one another.

Proof that he knows sylus would NEVER hurt him.

But it’s literally been the 5th time in a row that sylus has done this, something to do with his new schedule, what not. Do mafia bosses even have schedules? “ you know i cant help myself when you look like that…” he lays beside him after wiping them both clean, “ you look so precious, so delicous, it doesn’t help the fact that you slept naked today..” Holding his raven-haired beloved close, “tell me, did you do that on purpose?” he breathes in his scent, the comforting smell helping him relax. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” he answers, a slight smirk on his handsome face, not giving any intentions, “ but..” he presses their foreheads together, “that’s why i told you to wake me up..so that at least we can both be awake together..” his earnest reasons makes his eyes soften, zayne was honestly too good for them.

“Now sleep” zayne demands, reaching over to turn off the lamp that had been on for the past hours “doctor’s orders?” Sylus teased, pulling his lovely doctor closer by the waist as they lay side by side to bask in the morning afterglow, zayne softens, his hands caresses his lover’s face to help him cool down, “yes,” he whispers, “ plus i have multiple surgeries scheduled for late in 5 hours and i will NOT be late for that”, he kisses him again, “ good night, sylus”, sylus watches him til he falls asleep, the man chuckles, eyes gazing at the morning dawn filtering through the drawn curtains.

“ Good night to you as well, doctor dear”.

[mashkdemss]

And that's the exact same reason Mike told El she was pretty when she dressed feminine? Or he kissed her in the Snowball when he was feminine? Or told her he loved her new style? Make it make sense 😂

Actually, I'm even glad that I was asked such a question, because I wanted to continue my thought from the last post. Now I will tell you why I think that Mike is not attracted to girls and that his feelings for El cannot be considered romantic.

Important: you can consider Mike whoever you want, bisexual, asexual, gay, even straight. but I think that he is gay, because there is a huge amount of evidence for this, and if his feelings for Will are confirmed, then it will be much more logical to say that he is gay.

Let's start with the first season, where the arc of the romantic relationship between Mike and El begins:

I think it's obvious that El looks like a boy at that point, it's mentioned several times in the series, perhaps this was the reason why it was easier for Mike to treat her kinder than Dustin and Lucas did. Another reason for this occasional kindness on Mike's part is that El helped Mike find Will. Mike's main goal, after all, was to find Will, and that's why he needed El. He didn't treat her like a cute girl he fell in love with at first sight, he treated her exactly as a weapon or their key in finding Will (as rude and unfair as it may sound to El, but nevertheless, these are Mike's words)

Why Mike kissed El, or asked her to dance, or called her pretty, is hard to understand unless you've been in his situation. And by situation, I mean social pressure and expectations, and how they don't match your internal identity.

Let me explain: when you're a little boy who doesn't yet fully understand that he's gay, who lives in a small conservative town in the 80s, in a nuclear family with a father who makes homophobic jokes at your expense, you're going to try to be more normal. You're going to model your parents' relationship, you're going to model your friends who are openly attracted to the opposite sex, you're going to model your behavior on stereotypically masculine men on TV, etc. And you're going to end up telling yourself that you HAVE to like girls, because otherwise you're "wrong."

If it weren't for Lucas, who with his childish stereotypical thinking noticed Mike's affection for El, or if it weren't for Nancy, who for the first time saw her brother with a girl, asked if he liked her, then Mike would not have decided on a romantic relationship with El. When Lucas comically depicts Mike kneeling in front of El to show him that Mike is supposedly in love with El, Mike at first does not even understand what Lucas means. The final point in the question "Was Mike in love with El in the first season" is put by the words of Finn Wolfhard, when asked about Mileven relationship, he said that at the time of their meeting, Mike did not even have a thought about love in his head.

Only when he realized that he had a good chance to start a relationship with the first girl he met who wasn't disgusted by him (Lucas' words btw) did he decide to take things into his own hands and start showing her the signs of attention that he could see in the movies, for example. And a kiss, an invitation to the ball, or little compliments were these signs of attention, albeit very, very childishly awkward.

Also, don't forget that words and their hidden symbolism play a big role in interpreting the ideas of this show (crazy, stupid, bullshit, etc., they all matter). Let's remember when else have we heard the word "pretty"? I can think of two instances: In Season 1, El looks at a picture of Nancy and calls her pretty, and in Season 3, El tells Billy that she saw his mother in visions and that she was really pretty. In both cases, there is no romantic subtext, especially the first moment, because it is a direct foreshadowing/parallel to Mike's words. When El calls Nancy pretty, Mike agrees. Reluctantly, but he still agrees. The fact that he may find Nancy and El pretty does not confirm his attraction to girls, because if finding El pretty = being in love with her, then Mike is also in love with his sister, which is obviously not true. Besides the parallel between El and Mike's sister, I want to say that finding someone of the opposite sex beautiful when you're gay is a completely normal experience. Like, I'm a lesbian myself and I may find some guys good looking, but that still doesn't mean I'm romantically interested in them, romantic attraction is different.

Mike initiates the kiss in season 1 and 2, and the reason for this is because of the pressures of heteronormativity, he takes on the role of the man in the heteronormative relationship that everyone expects of him. And then later, during the kissing scenes in season 3, El is the one who initiates the kisses. El leans in while Mike basically stands there like a statue. Mike takes her hands off of him. During the second kissing scene in season 3, El is the one who holds Mike's face in her hands while Mike literally just sits there. Even though he is still affectionate with El as time goes on + as she develops her own identity + comes across as more stereotypically feminine, we see him become more and more uncomfortable with it, especially during the last kissing scene in season 3.

Mike and El's final kiss in season 3, or to be more precise, Mike's reaction to that kiss, is a whole other conversation, because I think that was his final stage of realizing his lack of attraction to girls. He may not have realized yet that he liked boys, but he did begin to understand that he wasn't interested in El or girls in general. I won't dwell on that, I'll just say that if Mike really liked girls, that embarrassing scene wouldn't make sense. If he didn't realize then that he didn't like girls, then what? I don't think he realized that he just didn't like El. That would be weird, because given his previous attention to her, it's unclear what could have changed in El so much that Mike "fell out of love" with her in one season.

Anon also mentioned that Mike liked El's new style, but I don't even see the point in analyzing that, because it's just a parallel to Hopper, who literally said the same thing. Another parallel between Mike and El's parental figure, nothing romantic.

Now I want to tell you why I think Mike isn't attracted to girls, but let's move El aside a little to look at Mike outside of their relationship.

Mike is the only one from the entire party, or even from the entire series, who does not show interest in the opposite sex, with the exception of his partner. Dustin is dating Suzie, but he still thinks Phoebe Cates is hot. Lucas is dating Max, but before that, he also competed with Dustin for Princess Daphne in slot machines, and also called Max "perfect in her own special way." Max is dating Lucas, but he likes to look at boys in magazines and finds Ralph Macchio attractive. El, apparently, enjoys the idea of Max dreaming about other guys, and El also imagined herself in the heroine's place when she watched Hopper's TV. If we consider other, slightly more adult characters: Steve actively shows interest in other girls, Nancy has a poster of Tom Cruise in her room, and Robin, the first confirmed LGBT character in the series, also showed interest in Tammy Thompson, Phoebe Cates and Vickie.

Mike, on the other hand, has never shown any interest in girls other than El. Ever. When Max shows up at school, Mike is the only one who is extremely negative towards her and tries hard to keep her out of the team, acting in complete opposition to the rest of the party. His negative attitude towards Max not only helped create an interesting dynamic between them and make El jealous, but it was also an interesting way to differentiate Mike from the other boys based on his attitude towards girls. I've heard people justify his behavior by saying that he misses El and doesn't want Max to take her place, but that sounds crazy because how could Max take her place? Does Mike really think that if Max takes El's place, he'll have to date her and forget about El? That doesn't make any sense. The only way Mike's behavior makes sense is if he was jealous of his friends' (and especially Will's) attention to Max and didn't want Dustin and Lucas to have a love interest while Mike has no one to project his feelings onto.

When Dustin and Lucas compete for Princess Daphne in a game, Mike shows no interest in it. When Dustin says his girlfriend is hotter than Phoebe Cates, Mike makes his signature face. He doesn't respond to it, while Lucas expresses his doubts that Susie couldn't possibly be hotter than Phoebe Cates. When Ted calls El a "sweetie pie," Mike makes that face again, even though there was no reason to do so.

Oh, and let's not forget about those shots, which could very well be a complete accident, but could also be brilliantly planned symbolism:

Even though the main characters are 14 years old in season 3, in the midst of their teenage years and growing up, Mike still has no interest in girls other than El, both because he is fixated on her and because he has no attraction. The scene in the mall where Mike, Will, and Lucas are looking for a gift for El has always caught my attention. Especially that moment when the boys stumble upon a lingerie store and, as befits normal teenagers, get scared and run away. I find this scene interesting because of what the boys are looking at: based on the sequence of shots, it is clear that Lucas is looking at women's underwear, Will is looking at the bottom of the underwear, which can also be identified as men's, and Mike is looking at stockings, which have no clear gender.

This is an interesting decision, because if Mike was attracted to girls, there would be no point in putting a shot with gender-neutral underwear after it. While this may sound like an argument against my point, I'm mainly just bringing this up to include this screenshot of a post from the official Stranger Things Twitter account:

And finally, let's get back to the take on the Tom Cruise poster in Nancy's room.

Did you know that posters can say a lot about the person whose room they're in? In the show, we also saw Billy's room, who is obviously attracted to women, which is why he has posters of women in bikinis. We also see Steve's room, who is also attracted to women, which is why he also has posters of women in bikinis. And what do we see in Mike's room? Yeah, I think you know what I'm talking about... A half-naked muscular dragon being fought by a little wizard? Oh, okay.. A poster for the 1982 movie "Conan the Barbarian"?!? With another half-naked muscular man, I guess... Okay, but there's also a woman in the corner of that poster, right? Yeah, I hate to spoil the fun for you guys, but this is definitely not the kind of movie a man who likes women would watch. "Conan the Barbarian" is FULL of misogyny, toxic masculinity and... half-naked muscular men, yes.

In general, I think this topic can be discussed for a long time, but I will probably stop here and I will be glad if you share your thoughts if you do not agree. I will be grateful if someone explains to me why he thinks that Mike is bi or even hetero, since I am not used to looking at this character from this point of view

[issdisgrace]

Hi can i request a carlos sainz fic, smut preferably and top male reader. Maybe the reader being charles or max's brother and them meeting at the bar were some of the drivers celebrate after a race week, then maybe something funny like carlos realising he got his back bent by his rival/teammate.

Sorry if its to much! 😖 im just happy that theres a dom male reader blog that writes for f1 drivers :>

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

WARNINGS: religious references, blowjob, bareback, praise, idk its gay and horny what else can I say

You were like the forbidden fruit. You were his teammate’s older brother. He shouldn’t have wanted you in the way he did, but he couldn’t help it. Your low voice, smooth words, handsome face, tall stature drew him in like a moth to a flame. Maybe those same things were how he found himself on his knees in front of you, sucking your cock. Everything beforehand was blurry for Carlos, he couldn’t remember most of his time at the club where he and others were celebrating the recent race or the ride here to your hotel but he didn’t care. He wanted this so badly; he dreamt of this very moment. You looked better than he had ever imagined. The top buttons of your shirt unbutton, revealing your chest, a sheen of sweat on your forehead, pants pooling at your knees. You looked angelic to Carlos, no you looked godly. Yeah, that was correct. You were like a god among men and Carlos was your dutiful follower, worshiping your cock. Sucking and licking your cock with such precision that you would have sworn Carlos had done it thousands of time. 

While Carlos thought he had the best view, you would’ve argued that you had the better view. Carlos looked so fucking hot on his knees, hair sticking to his forehead, shirt clinging to his perfect body, cock straining against his pants desperately wanting some sort of simulation. Bringing your shoed foot up, you pressed it against his hard on. He rutted into it as he continued to suck you off. It was heaven for both of you and it wasn’t long after you started showing Carlos neglected cock attention that he came moaning around your cock. The vibrations sending you into bliss as well, spilling down his throat. Carlos happily milked you for everything you had, swallowing it eagerly. Once you came down from high, Carlos slowly pulled off your cock. 

Looking up at you, he thought you were the most gorgeous being in the world. You looked probably even better than before with a blissed out look on your face. Carlos smiled to himself as he rested against your thigh. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander, wondering how it would feel for you to fuck him. The mere thought making him hard again. Looking down at Carlos, you admire his gorgeous face, your hand coming up to gently brush his hair off of his forehead. You could definitely get used to this sight. Yes, you could, but there was another sight you would like to see that being what Carlos would look like speared on your cock. You could only imagine the sounds he would make. He would probably sound heavenly, hmm, most definitely.

“Round 2?”

“Please.” Carlos said, looking up at you with those big beautiful brown eyes. Even if you wanted to say no, you couldn’t. That look was too precious to say no to.

“Alright, get up.” He nodded as he slowly rose to his feet the pain from kneeling for so long now finally making itself know as well as the uncomfortable feeling of his cum in his boxer. He looked to you for the next direction.

“Undress.” You say as you start unbuttoning your shirt the rest of the way. Carlos nodded again, doing what you told him as you did the same thing. Now both naked, you gently held Carlos’ hips bring him into you, your lips locking with each other. Carlos hummed at the taste of liquor still on your lips. The taste was addicting just like everything about you. But all good things must come to an end and you pull away to allow both of you to catch your breaths. Gently pushing Carlos back onto the bed, you take in his body like you’re admiring a piece of art because that was truly was what he was. 

“Your so pretty, I can’t wait to devour you.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please, fuck me. I want you so bad,” He whined, those puppy dog eyes on display once again.

“Can’t say no to that.” You say as you go over to your luggage, rummaging through it. Carlos wants to ask what you're looking for, but you soon pull out lube and condoms.

“No condoms, I want it raw. Want to feel all of you.”

“Ok, love.” Walking back over to the bed you join him on it. Kissing down his body, you get him as comfortable as you can be your squirt lube onto your fingers before gently toying with his hole. It’s been awhile since Carlos had done this. The anticipation is killing him, but he doesn’t have to wait long till your first finger is breaching his hole. It feels fucking amazing. He forgot how good this feels. You gently work him open words of praise spilling from your mouth. Telling how good he is, how good he’s being for you. Little noises making their way out of Carlos’s mouth as you add the second finger after he’s worked open enough. Those little noises make your ears perk up. You want here more of them, they sound so lovely. And by the time you’re slipping your third finger Carlos little noises have turned into full on whines as he begs you to fuck him. He doesn’t care if he’s not fully prepped to take your cock, he wants it to hurt, it wants to feel it tomorrow and the day after that. Because god knows if this is ever going to happen again. He wants to soak up as much of you and as much of this as he can to memory. He hopes this isn’t a onetime thing because he feels wonderful and he has no doubts you're enjoying yourself to, but he throws all thoughts of doubt at the window in favor of being in the moment. especially when you pull your fingers out of him. 

Finally, the main course, the thing Carlos has been eagerly waiting for. You take a moment to lube up your cock before placing yourself at his entrance and slowly start pushing into him. Carlos let out the sluttiest sound that he had let out all night as you push in. The stretch, the burning that accompanied it had Carlos leaking onto his stomach. Carlos immediately started fucking himself back on you as you fully seated yourself in him. He felt so full and he wanted you to absolutely destroy him. 

“That desperate already?” You laughed. Carlos felt his face heat up and he tries to hide his face with his hands. But you pull them away and pin them above his head as you start fucking into him. 

“Don’t hide your pretty face. I want to see all those little looks and hear all those little noises. You hear me.” Carlos nodded.

“Good.” You say, leaning down to kiss him. The kiss is rough, hungry, almost carnal, and Carlos loves it. It adds to the position he is in now, it adds to the roughness that are in your thrusts. It adds to everything, and it’s made even better as you start kissing down to his neck. Sucking hickies in it, if you were anyone else he would have pulled you off, but you were you and he wanted a visual reminder of this even if he had to pull out his makeup skills to cover them in the morning to not get the press all over him as he made his way home today. But that was a later him problem same with how he was going to get back to his hotel in the morning without being seen all marked up. His mind didn’t linger on these for long as you found his spot and started to abuse it. The loud almost porn star like moan Carlos involuntarily let out had his face heating back up and if it wasn’t for you holding his hands above his head, he would surely be covering it.

“You look divine.” You whisper in his ear as your hands lower to finally giving his poor aching cock some attention. Your hand were soft but at the same time had this roughness to them that made your movements feel heavenly like the feeling of your cock deep within him, abusing his prostate. Carlos was overwhelmed to say the least. With the way you were fucking him and the way you were jerking him off and the words of praise and encouragement spilling from your mouth. The culmination of everything that was happening/ had happened finally made him cum, spilling all over your hand. The smirk on your face as you speed up your pace now chasing your high. It didn’t take long for overstimulation to hit. It was so dizzying and so much that he couldn’t place a single word to how he felt. But it was certainly delectable. Delectable like how he imagined the forbidden fruit tasted. Yes, you were his ultimate forbidden fruit and there was no going back now that he had a taste of you. And you surely weren’t going back either now that you had a taste of your own forbidden fruit. Now there was truly no return as you filled Carlos to the brim. You were addicted well even more than you were before. You let out a sigh as you filled him. It felt right. You hoped it felt just as right to Carlos as it did to you. But I guess that is something you would learn later when you both were completely sober and had clearer heads untainted by lust. As you begin to soften, you pull out and lie next to Carlos. Despite both of you being hot and sweaty, you pulled him into you, giving him a kiss on the forehead. You stayed like that, holding him for a bit before you got up to run a bath for the two of you. The bath was serene and blissful as you cleaned the two of you up, allowing Carlos to just relax and be taken care of. No worries in sight for now, all of those being future Carlos’s problem.

After a morning of some gut spilling and a lot of heart spilling. Carlos happily made his way back to his hotel in some clothes that you had lent him with plans to meet up when you both were back in Monaco. As he was waiting for the elevator, he heard Charles greet him from behind, patting him on the shoulder. Carlos felt his heart drop into his stomach. He shook it off quickly and greeted him, trying to pretend everything was normal and he didn’t get his guts rearranged by his brother last night or had hickies from him on his neck. 

“Where did you disappear last night? I was looking for you?” Carlos stayed silent as he thought of an excuse, but Charles noticed the hickies on his neck. A smile spreading on his face.

“Got lucky last night, huh?”

“Yeah.” He said, avoiding eye contact. He wouldn’t have been embarrassed if it was with anyone else but this was different. It was scandalous to say the least, fucking your best friend and teammates older brother. Yeah that didn’t go over with most people and right now Carlos didn’t want to find out if it would go over to Charles.

[archangeldyke-all]

Reader who crochets? And she makes these special sweaters with the left sleeve cut out for Sev’s arm?? Omg

-🥨

ANON did u see logan @sevikasenby 's crochet tapestry of our wife!?!?? THE TALENT IS BEYOND

men and minors dni

there's a superstition in the knitting/crocheting community called 'the sweater curse.' the idea is basically that when you hand make a prospective romantic partner a sweater, you doom the relationship to fail.

you've read countless horror stories on crocheting forums about relationships going up in flames once a sweater is gifted.

'she called the sweater ugly after i spent a month on it.'

'he thought a hand-made sweater was too intimate and i was moving too fast.'

'they left with no explanation the same day i bought the yarn for their sweater.'

you've seen it all.

you know that the curse is something to fear. and you really don't want to lose sevika. but she's stubborn.

sevika thinks the fact that you crochet is so. fucking. cool.

most people think it's a grandma hobby.

sevika thinks it's the most impressive thing in the world. you can make anything. she's watched you knit blankets, sweaters, tops and socks. little stuffies for the neighbor kid next door, hats for your friends' birthdays. mug cozies, coasters, pillow cases and dog clothes-- she's seen you make it all.

and she's dying to have you make her something.

"don't you love me?" sevika whines one night as she cuddles in bed beside you while you crochet a scarf.

"can't stand you, actually." you grunt, already knowing what she's about to bother you about. she huffs.

"you don't understand baby. i was sooo cold at work today-- freezing, really-- and it's not like i can go buy a sweater 'cause of my ar--"

"you're so fucking annoying." you groan. sevika chuckles.

"is it so bad to want to show off my baby's work?" she asks. you huff, shaking your head.

"it is when it means we'll break up!"

she wears you down over time.

you start crocheting her little things, wanting her to feel loved but not wanting to subject the two of you to the curse.

you crochet her a little keychain charm on your anniversary; a hat for winter solstice. in the spring, you make her a few new scrunchies for her half-ponytails.

for her birthday, you give her the first big crochet project you've made for her: a purple poncho in a thick, warm yarn, perfect for the colder windy days when her thin red poncho isn't enough.

she cries when you show it to her. (she nearly gets heat stroke a week later when she tries to wear her new winter poncho on a blazing hot day.)

when you propose to her (kneeling in front of her where she sits on the couch kissing her hands, metal and flesh alike, as you bat your eyelashes at her,) sevika doesn't even let you finish the question before she's pulling you off the ground and into her lap, kissing you breathless, and pulling away with a sob. "yes!"

"you didn't even let me ask!" you laugh. sevika kisses you again.

"you have to crochet me a sweater now. make it white, i'll wear it to our wedding." she cries.

you don't do that. (though you do crochet the neck tie she wears on your big day.)

you wait until you've been married for a year, until you're settled in married life and comfortable, until sevika's not expecting it anymore.

and then, on the night of your first wedding anniversary, you give sevika her first sweater.

it's the most intricate thing you've ever made. the cable crochet pattern you used was complex and time consuming, but it looks fucking gorgeous. beautiful royal purple-- her favorite color-- her exact measurements, and sleevless on the left side.

sevika wears the sweater everywhere. all the time. whenever she can.

you only planned on making her the one, but her reaction (and the wear and tear the sweater receives from being worn by the scary woman of zaun) inspires you.

you knit her a new sweater, every year, for the rest of your lives.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob

[homosexualgirlandbags]

(had a friend rant to me abt gay shit here, so we're projecting rn)

Something something about Price and Nik being expected to fill in the traditional role of a man.

It's stupid that they care, especially since they were two men dating in the military. They should be more immune to the judgemental stares of soldiers on base, or the scrutiny of the people when they walk down the street.

It's a disgusting feeling, the feeling that you're ostracized, left out by some invisible barrier to the people. Two men, hand in hand walking down the street. Two men with decorated backgrounds in the military with enough blood on their hands to paint the whole damn town red, shifting in their stance as the mother with three kids glares at the nails holding John's hands in the cold.

It doesn't make it better when Nik could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up with how the dad in the park was staring at him, full on glam out whilst playing with Soap's niece, carrying the girl with him around the park on the monkey bars.

He ain't stupid. He knows what's up when the dad sneaks a picture of him. He knows the resulting conversation that would happen based on that. He also knows there's sweet fuck he could theoretically do about it. And that only serves to take a blow towards himself.

And when the group of teenagers stare at John like some oddity as he kneels over to check the price tags on some body oil and lotion, John has to keep himself in check from dealing with brats, the military way.

The scars that decorate his arms doesn't help, nor does the years of grime stuck on his face and the muscles bulging for actions under his shirt.

All that masculinity, blown away because of some lotion.

And when John complains about that fucked up knee he has, or Nik plays with his hair for fun, there's an underlying sense of criticism laying under their tone. Hidden under some form of concern.

Because after all, shouldn't men know how to suck it up? Shouldn't they know how to provide? How to dress according to the rulebook? Surely men built like John and Nik should have it down pat by now.

They already let them have each other, why shouldn't they expect the both of them to be a man?

It's stupid how it seems to be one thing traded off for another. A husband for a sense of normalcy. Something tangible for people to bite down on, to look at the men holding hands in London and be able to be blinded by the fact that they were the image of traditional masculinity rather than face their own bigotry.

John and Nik aren't men that would buckle down to orders from people, lord knows their attitude towards orders barked at them like a dam dog.

But this. This slow psychological warfare wasn't something they were trained for. Certainly not the way people stare at them like some oddity when John smiles at the chocolate Nik stuffed in his mouth, and certainly not when Nik paints his nails and wraps his arms around John's shoulders.

At the end of the day, they both still exist under the scrutiny of others, and John fixes his hair in a certain way before he walks out, and Nik leaves the nails at home as he holds his husband's hand, hair tied in a bun.

But at the end of the day, the way the man looked at Nik when he admits to not knowing how to replace a tyre, and how John could feel eyes on him as he reaches for the small pink frosted cupcake would never change.

[faghubby]

Eyes wide

I was living in a run down efficiency apartment over a bar. Working the late shift. It was 1am when I turned into the alley that led my appartment door. I saw two men. I thought one was getting mugged at first and ducked behind a dumpster. I peeked to see what was going on. And realized that a it was two men having sex. One man had the other bent over as he fucked him hard. His whole body rocked as the man drove his cock in and out of him. The other man just moaned kept trying to touch his own cock which looked big but with every thrust had to steady himself to keep from falling over.

I had no idea why I couldn't look away it was gay sex. Why was I so drawn to see. I was rooting for the bent over man to touch his cock. So he could cum. When the other grunted pushed the man against the wall. And I guess finished in his ass. The man pulled up his pants and went in the back door of the bar. The other man took a few more minutes. Once he had his pants up. I acted like I had just enter a the alley. Nodding to the man as I passed by. Going up to my appartment. I showered and laid in bed. I couldn't get what I had witnessed out of my head. It aroused me. I was straight, it had been awhile okay over a year but I liked woman. Didn't stop me from jerking off. I fell asleep.

It was hot my fan doing nothing to cool me when I woke the sun high in the afternoon sky. The noises of cars and people flooding in from the open window. I took a shower hoping it would cool me. I dropped the soap and instantly thought of the guy bent over last night. I rocked back and forth trying to grasped my dick which was hard again as water ran over me. I found myself leaning against the wall jerking myself off. Thinking of a man fucking me. I csm so hard my legs buckled and I was kneeling on in my shower as the water turned cold.

I tried to push it out of my mind and made myself a sandwich. It was just about time for work. I headed off to catch the bus. I found myself checking out people. Normally I sat with my head down and my ear buds in. But today I looked around. Imagining thier sex life. Even the old lady I pictured her bent over a table as she took a huge cock from a little old man. I pictured everyone having a huge cock. Or taking a huge cock. What would it be like to get fucked by a huge cock. What the fuck was wrong with me! I just needed to get laid I thought to myself. At work I again kept picturing everyone having sex. I wondered what color underwear the waitress where wearing. But also how big the dishwashers cock was. I kept thinking of secneros of the dishwasher pending over the waitress and fucking them. By the end of the night I pictured it was me he had bent over. I shook it off and went home to my crappy appartment. I was hoping to catch a shoe again as I turned down the alley. Instead I heard the music from the bar and decided to get a drink. I had never been in this bar before. I wasn't a big drinker and when I did it was usually with the guys after work. It wasn't very crowded. The music seemed louder then usual. I went up to the bar.

"Can I get a light beer" I asked. The bartender a man with broad shoulders covered in tattoos. Just nodded. I took my first sip when a large black man. Sat next to me. Their where lots of seats but he sat next to me.

"I got that Bill" he said motioning to my beer. I had never had anyone buy me a drink before.

"Um. Thanks" I said

"No problem" he seemed to sit very close. He seemed amazing I thought. He was also dressed very well.

"Just get off work?" He said with a big toothy smile.

"Yeah live upstairs just stopped in for a cold one" I said making small talk. God this guy was practically on top of me. I thought but didn't move.

"Upstairs well that's convenient" he laughed. Bill set another beer in front of me. I hadn't ordered. I realized I drank the first one fast.

"I never seen your pretty face in here before" this man whispered in my ear.

"What?" I stood and stepped back.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be so forward. Names Alex" he said extending his hand. I shook it and looked around. I noticed two men dancing actually there where no woman man couples. This was a gay bar?.

"I think I am the wrong bar" I said.

"Are you sure?" The Alex's hand slid up my leg and gropped my crotch. I was rock hard. "Calm down have another drink"

I swallowed hard and Alex ordered me a shot. I sat there quietly as his hand rubbed my crotch. He shifted getting even closer. His mouth to my ear.

"You are awful excited" He whispered as I drank my shot he ordered me another.

"Want to shoe me your place upstairs?" He said he nibbled on my ear. "I'll be gentle since it's your first time" he said then he kissed me. His tounge parted my lips and he held me in his arms as he seemed to suck out my soul. He paid the bill and led me out the back door. I motioned towards the door going upstairs. He took my keys and unlocked it. His one hand now inside my shirt rubbing my nipples.

He stripped as soon as the door closed. I just sat on the bed. I didn't want this. I should throw him out. He pulled down his pants and boxers in one motion. I was in awe over the size of his manhood. E laid in bad next to me. Pulling off my shirt he kissed my neck, chest, nibbled on my nipples and kissed my stomach. Then stopped and leaned back. I sensed he wanted me to do the same. So I did. His muscles where so well defined I found my fingers tracing them as I kissed him all over. When I got to his stomach I was staring at his cock. It was big. Well bigger I guess.

"Are you going to fuck me?" I asked shaking.

"Yes, that's what you want isn't it?" Alex said. I kissed down kissing his cock. I did everything I could remember from porn and the few times a girl had ever put my dick her mouth. I licked and kissed down to his balls then licked his balls. I just went with it taking one ball in my mouth then the other. Then back to licking the shaft. He had grown even harder. As I took the head in my mouth. He had me stop only long enough to remove my pants. Then postioned me so he could lube my ass as I continued to suck his cock. He found the Vaseline I used to jerk off. And worked his fingers into my ass.

The more he worked my ass the more I enjoyed playing with his cock. I had no idea what else to do when he lifted me up and held me over hos cock. I held his cock to my ass. And he slowly let me down. I held myself I liked the pressure his cock provided to my hole then suddenly it gave way. And the tip of his cock slid in. Pain shot thru me but also pleasure as I came all over his chest at the same time. I let him keep sliding inside of me ignoring the discomfort and focusing on the pleasure. I started to ride hos cock. I leaned down into his cheat lifting my ass to fuck him. I kissed his chest tasting my own cum as I did. After a few minutes I started to cramp. Alex rolled me over never pulling out of me and fucked me. With such force the bed collapsed. He didn't even slow down. I came a second time all over our stomachs before he filled me with his load. Alex got up to leave. I begged him to stay. Even sucking his cock again even after it had been in my ass. But I didn't even manage to make him hard.

I went back to the bar every night for a week no Alex. Another man hit on me but I wanted Alex. I needed him. I laid in my bed one night when there was a knock on the door. It was late.

"Who is it?" I asked scared from behind the door.

"Alex" he replied I opened the door and jumped into his arms. Alex traveled alot. So every few days. Sometimes weeks he would just surprise me. We fucked all night. I had learned to suck his cock properly but almost drowned the first time he came in my mouth.

He started to send me presents. Flowers as if I was his girlfriend. I was sort of I thought. I only came when he fucked me. He never touched my dick. I was his girl. I had no reservation that I was gay. As I thought back maybe I always was. It had been going on for months we never went out just fucked. At his place which was awesome. Or my little shit hole. I had not noticed the changes in my behavior. Until I asked Alex why we never went out.

"Paul, I love you. But I work alot oversees. Countries where being gay will get you in prison or dead." He told me.

"So we could be friends different rooms" I told him.

"Paul, your hips swing like you need a cock. You flirt and act like a girl half the time" he laughed.

He then hugged me"you are my girl" he told me. While he was away again I did some research. And a bit of online shopping. I bought myself some sexy lingerie and removed my body hair. I would make myself into a woman for him. I tried to do my hair and makeup but failed. So when he called and told me he would be home tomorrow. I confessed everything to one of the waitress. At work. We where friends I guess. She loved the idea of a makeover and helped me learn to style my hair. Even though she loaned me a wig instead. She also loaned me a form fitting dress that barely covered my lacy panties. She added a padded bra with some tissues. I went to surprise Alex at his apartment. He opened the door and was not alone.

"PAULA! what a nice surprise" he said shocked. But invited me in with a worried look. He introduced me as his girlfriend to two men both named Mohammed. I slipped into the other room why they spoke business. After they left Alex came in a bit mad but also excited to see me. I wanted hin to throw me on the bed. But he insisted on taking me to dinner. I felt my shoes where wrong but I couldn't walk in heels yet.

Twice Alex held his jacket in front of me to hide my excitement. When we got back to his place he asked me to move in. If I was willing to live as a woman forever. I agreed. Then we the wildest sex. Alex only had one issue. My inability to stop getting excited. He solved that quickly by placing me in a tiny chastity cage. At first he would let me out when we had sex. Then less and less. He bought me clothes. Jewelry, makeup,perfume. Any thing and everything. He told me what to wear. He liked me slutty. But not around clients then I was class. I learned to act more like a woman.

Its been 5 years. And he is taking me to Italy for our anniversary

[misfitwashere]

How we get rid of the American oligarchy

ROBERT REICH

JAN 16

Friends,

In what was billed as his “farewell address,” President Biden yesterday warned America that the nation is succumbing to an “oligarchy” of the ultra-wealthy, and the “dangerous concentration of power” they pose to democratic ideals:

“Today, an oligarchy is taking shape in America of extreme wealth, power and influence that literally threatens our entire democracy, our basic rights and freedoms and a fair shot for everyone to get ahead.”

He’s right, of course. 

Fascism starts with the Trump derriere-kissing we’re now witnessing by the wealthiest people in America, who own the biggest megaphones and thereby determine what information Americans get. What they get back from Trump is raw power to do whatever they want. 

Elon Musk — the richest person in the world — controls X, which under his leadership has become a cesspool of lies and bigotry. 

Musk has posted or replied to more than 80 posts about the Los Angeles fires, many of which downplayed the role of climate change — placing blame instead on individual female firefighters of color and lesbian firefighters, including posting their names and faces. 

He boosted an hour-long propaganda video by right-wing conspiracy theorist Alex Jones that claimed the fires were “part of a larger globalist plot” to cause the collapse of the United States; Musk replied simply, “True.” 

He repeatedly amplified claims that the Los Angeles Fire Department’s investments in diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) programs cost lives by wasting money that could have been spent on disaster response, suggesting that the destruction could have been mitigated if more white men had been retained.

Musk has made it clear that his platform’s main role during the upcoming Trump regime will be to back whatever Trump chooses to do and criticize Trump’s critics with more lies and bigotry. 

Jeff Bezos — the second-richest person in America — owns Amazon. His Prime Video just announced it will spend a whopping $40 million for a documentary about Melania Trump, for which she is an executive producer, and stream it on Amazon Prime. 

What else will Amazon promote or censor, to curry favor with Trump? 

Bezos also owns The Washington Post. Just before the election, he killed a Post endorsement of Kamala Harris. Earlier this month, a Post cartoonist quit after the newspaper spiked a cartoon showing Bezos and Facebook’s Mark Zuckerberg kneeling before Trump.

Mark Zuckerberg — the third-richest person in America — owns Facebook, Instagram, and Threads. He’s sucking up to Trump by ridding his platforms of content moderation so that they, too, can amplify Trump’s lies and bigotry. 

Announcing the end of fact-checking on his platforms, Zuckerberg says he thinks it will “take another ten years” of fact-free operation before Meta is “back to the place that it maybe could have been if I hadn’t messed that up in the first place.”

Zuckerberg says the deciding factor was the “cultural tipping point” of Trump’s election. 

Not only will Zuckerberg fire most of the 40,000 fact-checkers who have screened his platforms’ posts for accuracy, but he will be moving the few who remain from California to Texas, “where there’s less concern about the bias of our teams.”

So Texas workers will be less “biased” than California workers? As Dan Evon of the nonprofit News Literacy Project notes, the move “provides an air of legitimacy to a popular disinformation narrative: that fact-checking is politically biased.”

Training materials for Meta’s remaining trust and safety workers include examples of speech that Zuckerberg now wants permitted: 

“Immigrants are grubby, filthy pieces of shit.”

“Gays are freaks.”

“Look at that tranny (beneath photo of 17 year old girl).”

Trump praised the move, saying “I think they’ve come a long way.” 

A reporter asked Trump if his threats to put Zuckerberg in prison caused the change in policy. “Probably,” Trump responded. Perhaps the Federal Trade Commission’s lawsuit against Meta played a role as well?

Zuckerberg has also promoted prominent Republican Joel Kaplan to be Meta’s chief global affairs officer and put Dana White, CEO of Ultimate Fighting Championship and a close friend of Trump, on its board.

My friends, none of this has anything to do with freedom of speech. It has everything to do with the power of money. 

The three richest Americans want to decide what the rest of us will know about the coming Trump regime. 

Concentrated wealth is the enemy of democracy. As the great jurist Louis Brandeis is reputed to have said, “America has a choice. We can either have great wealth in the hands of a few, or we can have a democracy. But we cannot have both.” 

As we slouch into the darkness of Trump II, America needs people and institutions that speak truth to power, not align themselves with it. 

When we the people regain power, three reforms are critically necessary to begin to tame the oligarchy:

X, Amazon, Meta, and other giant tech media platforms must either be busted up or treated as public utilities, responsible to the public. 

Hugely wealthy individuals must not be permitted to own critical media. 

Large accumulations of individual wealth must be taxed. 

My friends, we will prevail. 

[femme-plant-mom]

i'm not here to make you kneel (but it's praise that i get)

summary: Will likes his job at Apollo, a queer club in Manhattan. Tonight, he’s wearing blue booty shorts with his cropped “save a horse, ride a cowboy” t-shirt, so he’s getting some very good tips, and it's an 18+ Drag and GoGo Night during Pride Month, which means the bar is particularly packed.

rating: T-M; nothing graphic, but definitely suggestive, and language

For Day 7 of @willsolaceweek! Will in an AU!

Because I'm ~extra~ I also made a Spotify playlist to go along with this AU. Some of the songs have specific characters I imagined performing to, so ask in the comments if you want to know any of those!

Peep the Jason, Grover, and Annabeth cameos (unnamed).

AO3 Link

Will likes his job at Apollo, a queer club in Manhattan. The owner pays him when he comes in early to “set up” and get some studying in while it’s still quiet. He gets to wear muscle tanks and crop tops with fun phrases like “boy kisser,” “y’all means all” in the bi pride flag colors, “I’m not a top, I’m just tall,” “gay juice” on a rainbow juice box, and (his personal favorite) “alpha male” under a pink unicorn. And tonight, he’s wearing blue booty shorts with his cropped “save a horse, ride a cowboy” t-shirt, so he’s getting some very good tips. 

It’s also an 18+ Drag and GoGo Night during Pride Month, which means the bar is particularly packed. Will is keeping a careful eye on the black X’s on hands that say people can’t drink yet. 

Looking out across the crowd, shoulder to shoulder, Will is grateful to be behind the bar where at least he only has to share the space with Bianca. She’s currently flirting with a group of butches, tossing her hair and giggling at their jokes. 

They have a good thing going, having figured out how to capitalize on tips together. Will likes serving the straight girls there with their gay friends, flashing both parties his million-watt-smile, and Bianca, ahem, tolerates the very few straight men who walk in.

“Dude, exams were brutal this semester,” Bianca picks up where their conversation left off when she walks back over with a rack of clean glasses, still hot from the sterilizer. “I mean I knew they would be, all of my classes were tougher than I thought they’d be, but ugh, I’m glad they’re over.” 

Will hums in agreement. “I swear Dr. Chase was trying to straight up actually kill me with his fifteen-fucking-page final paper. But! I have completed my history class requirement, and now it’s just major classes here on out, and only one more year!” 

“We should take a class together! For fun, before you graduate and leave me for your important doctor dreams,” Bianca enthuses. “Nico and I are trying to take Greek Mythology in the fall, you should join us.” 

“Oh yeah, how was his first year?” He pauses her in her answer to take an order from and grab a High Noon and a Corona for the women in front of him. “Together or separate? And would you like to close the tab or keep it open?” He gets the responses he needs and turns back to Bianca. 

“Good! Told me he finished up well, all A’s because he’s a nerd.” She rolls her eyes affectionately. “He’s actually coming tonight, I made him promise. He needs to let off steam more often. I swear, I think he spent half the year holed up in the library.” 

“Oh? Wonder if I saw him there and I just didn’t know it.” 

Bianca shakes her head. “I doubt it. I mean, first of all, we look so alike it’s uncanny and you’d know instantly that it’s him, and he usually studies in the basement.” 

Will shudders, really hamming it up. The basement. Will tried working down there his first semester, but it’s so quiet it’s eerie, like any moment a ghost is going to round a bookshelf and Will is going to shriek and then be shushed by thirty caffeine-junkie students. Bianca smirks knowingly, like she can read his thoughts on the space. 

“Well, I’m looking forward to meeting him after hearing about him so much!” 

From the stage, their MC Leo clears his throat into the mic. He’s wearing shiny bronze micro-shorts, a toolbelt for some reason, and nothing else. “Ladies, gaydies, and theydies, welcome to Apollo!” He’s adopted the timbre of a WWE announcer and draws out the last vowel for a couple seconds. “Tonight, we have some very special performers for you. Get your ones and your cheers ready for-” Leo presses a button on a remote and there’s a canned drumroll, ending with a symbol crash “-Lightning McQueer!” 

Leo makes room on the stage for the first performer, someone in a blonde wig the women at Will’s childhood Texas church would be jealous of (“the higher the hair, the closer to Jesus,” they’d say while Will choked on hairspray) and a sparkling blue, purple, and silver outfit, completed with a matching umbrella. 

Lightning jumps into “It’s Raining Men,” a true classic, and the whole bar cheers as she struts and dances across the stage. She uses the pole in center-stage a little, but mostly as a prop or support for her dancing. Will is always in awe of people who can actually use the pole for its intended purpose. 

Will and Bianca cheer from behind the bar as Lightning McQueer finishes her song, the whole room roaring with applause. Tip collectors finish their rounds and drop the cash off with Lightning while Leo heads back up on stage to announce the next performer. 

There’s a bevy of drag queens, drag kings, and GoGo dancers. Drew, a regular of Apollo’s Drag Nights and a friend of Will’s, performs as a drag queen to “7 rings”; another queen (who has left the long, coarse hair on her legs unshaved, which Will loves as a statement) lipsync’s “Don’t Threaten Me With a Good Time” in a mock-wedding dress; and Leo dances under the name “Lulu Supreme.” From behind the bar, Will follows Leo in the movements of “HOT TO GO!”, grinning while the whole club dances together. 

Somehow—unbelievably, given the current state of the dance floor—the crowd is increasing as they get further into the night, and Will and Bianca get dragged into filling orders, swiping cards, and making sure the right receipts go to the right people and then get collected again. 

The performers become a whirlwind of pop songs and sequins for a while. When there’s a sufficient pause, Will slumps back against the bar, running his hand through his hair and snagging fingers in the curls. Bianca collapses beside him, both of them turning toward the stage to try for a couple minutes of community. 

“Alright, keep that energy high!” Leo calls out to the crowd. “Coming up, we have Eros!” 

As the next performer walks onto the stage, Bianca gasps and straightens. 

The guy is wearing a sleeveless black mesh top over some kind of harness—leather, maybe?—and loose black pants gathered at the ankles, no shoes. He’s lithe but well-muscled. From here, Will can’t tell if he is wearing eyeliner or if his eyelashes are just that dark and thick, but he is unmistakably Bianca’s brother, Nico. The high cheeks, doe eyes, sharp jaw, and dark hair are all the same. Will is startled to realize the strangled sound he’s hearing is coming from his own mouth. 

“Hotter Than Hell” starts and Will is pretty sure he’s ascending to Heaven. Although, with the way Nico moves, he thinks, maybe he’s a demon sent to tempt Will. 

Nico dances and lipsyncs along to the music, rolling his body and light on his feet. He feels like a natural addition to the song, a visual it should always have, and Will is certain he’ll never hear it again without picturing Nico. 

The raven-haired man undoes the buttons of his shirt and eases it off his shoulders—his strong, glorious shoulder—revealing the harness in full, and Will whimpers. 

It frames Nico’s chest and abs, leaving Will wishing he were seeing it above himself or with his own hand wrapped around it to pull Nico into a bruising kiss. Nico slides a hand down his chest, his abs, to the waistband of his pants, rolling his hips the whole time. Somewhere in the far, far back of his mind, Will desperately hopes no one needs him to get them something right now because he is useless. 

Bianca lets out a loud “whoop!” as her brother teases open the zipper of his pants. A smirk just barely plays with Nico’s lips, but Will catches it in his inability to take his eyes off of the other man. 

Somehow—and don’t ever ask Will how because he could not even begin to say, but it definitely involves Nico turning around and easing the pants over his muscular ass in a truly torturous move, smirking over his shoulder to the audience the whole time—Nico gets the pants off, revealing tiny black boxer-briefs hanging with silver chains. 

Nico is so smooth in his movements he’s up the pole before Will processes what’s happening, mind still trying to comprehend the obvious strength in Nico’s thighs under the boxers. 

Will’s seen more technical pole routines before, but doesn’t think he enjoyed them nearly as much. Nico has one hand wrapped around the pole, another cast back alongside his head. His ankles are crossed, calves and thighs clenching the pole, and hips rolling against it in time with the music and lips still forming the lyrics while he makes eye-contact with audience members. If every male-loving person in this place isn’t aroused by the end of this performance, it’s going to be a miracle. Will, for his part, is wishing his shorts covered things up a little more. 

Nico shifts into pretzel shapes, twists around the pole, and moves so smoothly between poses that Will’s not sure how he got into most of them. He’s fluid, but there’s also an aggression to his movements that’s making the blond want to drop to his knees. 

Eventually, Nico brings his free hand back to the pole, wingspan spread, holds tight, and lifts his legs into a split parallel to the pole. He holds it a second, abs flexing with the effort, and Will thinks he would never be thirsty again if he could just lick the sweat from the hollows between the muscles. Nico then shifts until his legs are wrapped around the pole above his head, thighs tight around the metal and toes pointed. He releases his hands from the pole, pointing them toward the floor to catch his fall, and lets himself slide down with just his legs attached until he can push off the bar and gracefully move back onto his feet. A few more lyric lines of dancing on the stage, and Nico is done, collecting his discarded clothes as he goes. 

After Nico wraps up the performance, Will blinks back to consciousness and checks he hasn’t drooled while the crowd cheers and wolf-whistles. He glances at Bianca, who is giving him a knowing smirk again. 

“I, uh,” he tries, but there’s a distinct lack of blood moving through his body right now, especially to his brain. 

Bianca snorts, rolls her eyes, and turns her attention back to patrons. Will tries to shake off his stupor and do the same, but his brain is still at least half focused on Nico’s dance, replaying it in his mind. He doesn’t seem to mess up anyone’s order, though, so he’ll take that as a win. 

“Nico!” Bianca calls at one point, and Will’s head shoots up from where he’s putting away change. Nico looks toward his sister, raises his hand in greeting, says something to the blond drag king he’s talking to, and makes his way over to the bar. He’s back in his shirt and pants (and shoes—black combat boots with buckles and straps and holy shit, please step on me), thank god, although the harness peeking through the mesh is still doing things to Will, especially in this close proximity. 

“Hey, B,” Nico says, placing his hands on the edge of the bar and leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. His arms flex with the movement, and Will is going to die of a heart attack right here and now.

“You need water,” Bianca replies, no room for argument in her voice. She fills and passes him a glass of water, lime wedge balanced on the edge. Nico takes it with a grateful smile, squeezes the lime into the water, and passes the rind back to Bianca to throw away. He takes several long gulps and Will tries—he really does, he swears—to not watch every bob of his Adam's apple or the one drop of water that slips free from the corner of Nico’s lips and slides down his chin, under his jaw, down his neck…

Will clears his throat, which is suddenly dry, trying to drag his eyes back to the change task at hand. 

“Oh, Nico, this is Will, my coworker!” Bianca introduces because she hates Will, she hates him so much and this is proof, but also she’s his goddamned hero. “Will, Nico.”

“Hi, Will, nice to meet you.” Nico offers his hand across the bar and Will takes it with a smile. Eyeliner. There’s definitely eyeliner. He can see it now with Nico’s eyes flicking over his body, taking special note, it seems, of his shirt with its assless-chaps wearing cowboy. If Will flexes right now, just a little, will he be able to get away with it seeming natural?

“Really nice to meet you, too! I’ve heard lots of great things!” Will is so, so grateful his voice sounds mostly normal, and certainly normal enough over the still-blasting music. 

Nico raises an eyebrow at Bianca, releasing Will’s hand, and the blond mourns. “You talk about me to your coworkers?” 

“Duh, I brag about you all the time, you little nerd,” Bianca reaches over the bar to ruffle Nico’s hair and oh shit, now Will is thinking about Nico with sex hair. Abort, abort!

“She, um, said you liked your first year at NYU?” Will tries. 

Nico brightens, abandoning trying to blindly fix his hair. “Yeah, it was great! I love the professors in my department, and my classes were super interesting. Liked my roommate, too, which was good. We’re gonna room together again next year.” 

“Oh, nice! My freshman roommate and I still live together, too. He’s actually performing tonight, although I’m not sure when…” Will casts his eyes back to the stage, catching his lower lip with his teeth and wondering if he actually missed Cecil’s act in the earlier mayhem. “Anyway,” he continues, turning back to Nico, whose eyes flick up to his—from his lips? “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” 

“Are you in college?” Nico asks. 

“Yeah! I’m at NYU, too. Pre-med, rising senior like Bianca.” 

“Oh, okay,” Nico nods, fingertip idly playing with the condensation on his empty glass. Will takes and refills it, adding a lime wedge. Nico starts, just a little, but smiles and squeezes the lime in. After a sip, Nico gives Will an appraising look. “Would you be interested in getting coffee sometime?” 

Will chokes, but does his best to recover quickly. Bianca’s elbow to his ribs on her way to grab a patron’s drink does not help. “Yeah! Yeah, yes, that would be great! I’d, um, I’d love that.” Smooth, Solace, real smooth. Nico flashes his teeth in something between a smirk and a smile, though, so Will can’t be too upset about it. 

“Here,” Nico offers, fishing his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it before passing it over. “Put your number in, we’ll coordinate something.” 

The devil part of Will’s brain wants to ask if Nico can wear the harness to coffee, but he shuts it down as he types in his number and name, hitting “send” before returning the phone.  

“Looking forward to it,” Will tells Nico, grinning broadly. Nico gives him a small smile back, waves a goodbye to Bianca, and weaves his way through the crowd to the dance floor. 

Between orders, Will finds his eyes wandering back to Nico, moving smoothly under the rainbow club lights, and is pleased to catch Nico’s dark eyes on him a few times, too.