#But…if he needed fords help again……..

[darlingdaisyfarm]

The idea of Stan (or Ford) having a praise kink and Reader having a degradation kink (or vice versa) is kind of humorous to me. Just getting off by saying wildly different things to each other, you know?

I feel like that's confusing wording, so to clarify: I mean this in a StanxReader or FordxReader way.

-🫶

oh my god yes ok ok so as someone who very much has a degradation kink but like selectively you know? only when it’s laced with praise otherwise it gets too real and i simply will cry, i deeply love this concept

like...unhmhm i need Stan to tell me “good girl for taking it like a dumb little whore”

anyways omfg i wrote too much, i just really liked it SORRRYYY

nsfw

just the idea of Stan or Ford earnestly trying to say smth sweet, genuine while you're beneath them just cooing out shit like “ugh shut up you fucking old man!! make yourself useful, stop talking and fuck me harder.” <33

you getting wet over being called a dumb little toy at the exact same moment as Stan is saying “you're doing so good for me” but then you go “no, no, be mean to me!!” and he just full stops and blinks like what the fuck do you mean mean???

let me talk about mullet Stan again cuz there's never enough of him. so imagining this with mullet stan please. please. listen. i think that bastard would lean toward degradation by default. not necessarily because he means it, but uhh somewhere deep inside, he thinks that's all he deserves. he’s lived his life on the back foot, always “screwing things up”, being the one who gets left or loses, so if he says “stupid baby” or ”dumb little fuck-toy” while he’s got his cock deep in you in some motel off the highway, it's because he thinks that’s what he is too. and if you praise him while he’s doing it, cup his jaw and whisper “you’re so good to me, you’re the best, no one fucks me like you do” (btw i think this is the phrase that he really likes) while his hand is around your throat? ohhh he might scoff or call you a liar. but he’s so soft for it. gets off on it against his will.

he's the one who doesn’t deserve tenderness. he can’t believe you’d want him for anything soft or sweet. and god help him the first time you whimper and ask him to praise you. ”you want good words?? from me??”

but also!!! also!!! and hear me out. you degrading him back. especially when he’s being all cocky with his chest puffed out and hands on his hips, AYGHYHH “yeah you like that, don’tcha.” and you just roll your eyes and “jesus christ, you’re such a slut for me.” game over. he’s gonna ruin the sheets. i’m so sorry but he lives to be called out, just a little. it's an honor to humble stanley pines with your filthy mouth. <3 need to write hate sex with him

AND OLDER STANNN. oh he thinks he’s got it handled until you start talking mean!!

he’s got you bent over a bed, calling you baby and sweetheart, kissing your shoulder and saying dumb stuff like “you’re so tight for me, fuck, ill never get enough of you” and you go “ugh you’re so easy, bet you’d cum just from me grinding on your lap in public. you that desperate for my attention, old man?” FUCK!?

but then, THEN. he matches your filth. if your kink is degradation, he learns it fast. starts growling in your ear “yeah? you wanna be used, that it? want me to treat you like trash? you’re nothin’ but a filthy little tease, huh? well get ready baby” but then a second later he’s worried “did that sound okay?? too much? not too mean?” wiping sweat off his brow and trying not to cry from being too turned on <3

as for Ford, where do i begin. you know this man has a praise kink deeply coded into his psyche right? he was raised on academic validation, on approval from elders, teachers, peers. he’s constantly been rewarded for being the smartest, the most innovative, the most competent. of course he wants to hear you say “you’re so clever, you’re the only one who knows how to touch me like this, fuck me with that genius brain,” while he’s buried to the hilt inside you.

and yet. and YET. i too must confess i want to call him a whore. i don’t know why. i love him, i do. but the mental image of looking down at Ford Pines, totally blissed out, stuttering, face flushed behind his glasses, and just telling him “look at you. you’d let me use that big genius mouth of yours for my pleasure, wouldn’t you? mm, all those degrees and still my perfect little toy.”

but anyways i mean this man has never been able to healthily express affection. so the second he’s finally in a position to touch and adore someone he actually loves, he goes full throttle tender mode, especially if it's established relationship. “you’re brilliant, so beautiful, you know that? you’re my darling, my love, my sweetheart” and you’re just underneath him with your lashes fluttering, dragging your nails down his back and moaning “ugh you’re such a fucking nerd, bet you’ve never even made someone cum before me. guess im the first pussy you’ve ever made a mess in, huh” WAAAAAHHH

and the worst part, he’s still into it. he cannot handle it but he’s so fucking into it. Ford starts blushing. sweating. stammering. but his hands are still gripping your thighs harder. the contrast between his praise & your degradation makes him insane until he’s literally groaning through his teeth and saying “you’re awful, you know that. . .disrespectful. . .but you feel so good, i can’t stop, im gonna” oh he'll cum soo fast

yes reader degrading Ford now that’s theatre. he’s expecting praise. he’s braced for “you’re so smart” and instead he gets “aw, are you gonna cum like a dumb little bitch for me?” like he’s offended lmao but also wildly aroused because his logical mind wants to protest but his body has never felt better

i love ittt. like Stan’s being mean to you but melting inside the moment you tell him he’s good and Ford’s trying to be praised and you’re calling him a brainless toy. everyone’s cumming and no one knows why....oh well

[violet-oriel]

My Rambling Thoughts on ‘The Mastermind’

One of the things I love about the original Leverage is that it takes these characters with their very distinct titles and skill sets who are used to working alone, and finishes with each character still mostly being known by their monikers, but having learned how to work together and becoming that much better because they learn from each other. However, there was no doubt that Nate was The Mastermind. Nate, who had plans from A to M, who saw the world on a different plane, who poured his fury into his work to take down those who hurt people with poetic and destructive flair.

We see some of team try to mastermind in the original with Sophie taking the reins for The Three Days of the Hunter Job and Hardison in The Gold Job. Sophie masterminds in a very grifter way, reading the mark easily and trapping her with her own desires.

Hardison masterminds in a very hacker way, using video game logic and excellent graphics, trying to “update” the art of the con.

Both of their cons succeed, albeit with some mishaps, but are, imo, very well thought out. The overall message in both of these episodes though, is that no one can do it like Nate. No one can anticipate the sudden curveballs and all of the ways that a job can go haywire, so the team needs a mastermind that can. Nate does get the job done, and there is something to be said for Sophie and Hardison learning the intricacies of masterminding, but I don’t like the way Nate pats them on the head and is essentially like, “Good try sweetie, it’s time for the adults to take over.” Nate is arrogant, and so it’s not at all shocking to assume that he thinks there’s only one way to mastermind.

Which is why I LOVE that Redemption does not fill that mastermind role with really any of our team! Sophie eventually leads the team and decides what cons they’re going to do, but we see her grappling with the burden of leadership and trying and failing to be Nate because she’s not Nate. None of them are!

This idea is really expounded upon in The Turkish Prisoner Job in the conversation between Sophie and Harry (where Harry takes his turn masterminding through his evil lawyer lens). She mentions the different people that run the Leverage International crews and how they each mastermind based off of their own profession/life experiences.

This concept of masterminding your own way while still paying tribute to your roots really stood out to me with my rewatch of season 3, starting with The Scared Stiff Job. Sophie, in true Nate fashion, goes after the mark hard, but it’s Breanna who ultimately pulls off an incredibly complex con with her own style and flavor. It’s The Order 23 Job: Dystopian Sci-Fi Hellscape Edition. We’ve seen Breanna mastermind in previous seasons, but her running this intensive targeted con filled with righteous indignation side by side with Sophie contemplating Nate’s legacy is just *chef’s kiss*

The immediate next episode is The Hustler Job, where Sophie really steps up and becomes a mastermind.

Leaving Breanna in the ceiling and stealing all of the money early on while the mark is distracted is very Nate “Plan M” Ford, but true to form, she masterminds in a very Sophie way. She reads the mark instantly and needles him in just the right way to keep him off balance, calling his tells and keeping him guessing with her motivations. It’s a very grifter approach to masterminding again, but you can see her growth from The Three Days of the Hunter Job and how she honors Nate but stays true to herself. Letting Harry have his pound of flesh was very Nate-coded as well.

Next, we have The Grand Complication Job, where Parker seamlessly slips back into the mastermind role.

She is Nate’s heir, she thinks the most like him and her plans are flawless. However, what does she help Tara to do? Steal the watch. Yes, it’s a diversion tactic against Bligh, but she’s a thief! Of course she would mastermind like a thief!

Obviously, Parker is brilliant and the finale really puts to sleep any doubt that she is a mastermind. She doesn’t use thievery in the traditional sense in the finale of this season other than viewing philosophy as a heist but as many more eloquent users have noted, the con and her final speech is 100% Nate Ford. And while she may not be a thieving mastermind in the finale, she is able to grow her masterminding abilities by perfecting her skill at the long con, influenced by both Nate and Sophie.

All of this rambly nonsense aside, I just love that Redemption doesn’t have a mastermind, because it shows that there’s not one way to do good or to succeed. You can bring something to the table because of your unique skill set and experiences, and you can also grow and become better through the advice and experiences of others!

[eyelovveu]

hello! for the billford request could you do Bill seeing Ford again after leaving the theraprism? (whether he escaped of genuinely got better is up to you)

omg yes

I think bill would just randomly teleport to ford to tell him about his great achievements 😇🙏 and ford would definitely be shocked cuz he thought bill was dead

Bonus:

[smiley-mcdoggington]

I think people make Ford a creep more often because if you even hint that Ford Doesn't reciprocate Stan's feelings the entire show becomes Ford the Molestation Magnet who Cannot Catch A Break Ever

[neverendingford]

skyglow:

(alternative title: photo dump of a midnight desert run)

[thethespacecoyote]

ford replacing body parts and having his molecules reconstituted repeatedly depending on which dimension he was traveling through, feeling strange and depersonalized and Different than he was before, then coming home and finding his house completely changed and full of things he doesn't recognize on top of all that

[nenoname]

kinda glad that i'm seeing more folks nowadays talk about how the fandom reaction of making characters say "haha he fucked a triangle" is really offputting+flippant, especially when its in response to tbob being super blunt that bill had abused/isolated/manipulated ford for years.....

[gay-dorito-dust]

What would be Stan’s brothers reaction when after Y/n helped them with stuff and they said “Well, what are you waiting for? Kiss on the cheek?” Or “what else do you want? A kiss on the cheek?” And reader fastly respond ‘Yes please’ without hesitation 🤑

Ford:

‘What are you waiting for? A kiss on the cheek?’ Ford said when he noticed that you were lingering nearby.

‘Yes please.’ You replied almost instantaneously.

The poor man was now blushing to the tips of his ears as his eyes grew wide. This wasn’t a response he was expecting and therefore not properly prepared to answer accordingly.

He didn’t expect you to eagerly agree even in the slightest and now he was racked with nerves, while his mind overworked on whether or not you were joking with him. Ford has never been in the situation before where someone shown active interest in him, so needless to say this man was imploding on himself over shat could only be a theoretical.

He hated vagueness and ambiguity, they were his biggest personal pet peeves. he much preferred things to be upfront and direct for he tended to look for deeper meaning in things they didn’t need to be looked at so intently or up close.

‘I- well if it’s okay with you.’ Ford says, finding the collar of his turtleneck a little tight and finding it hard to swallow the lump in his throat.

‘It’s more than okay.’ You said with a smile.

Ford had to steel his nerves that were running rampant within him as though he was still that teenage boy, he mustered the strength he needed to press a sweet, almost featherlight kiss to your cheek that had butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Stanley:

‘What are you waiting for? A kiss on the cheek?’ He asked.

‘Yes please.’ You said without hesitation.

Stanley, while taken aback but your straightforwardness, smirked in response as he leant closer to you.

‘Oh do you now?’ He says playfully with a raised brow, trying his hardest not to show just show affected he was by your words as he felt his heart in his throat.

‘I wouldn’t have said otherwise.’ You replied with a smile, taking a step towards him as he internally congratulated himself for not loosing his touch. (or so he liked to claim when in reality it’s you who holds the more power in this situation.)

Stan only said what he said because it was something his father said time and time again to him after he did something that he thought would finally make his father look at him. Only for that to not be the case as his father easily dismissed his efforts and managed to degrade him with a single sarcastic comment that felt like a dagger to the heart.

Here when he said it, you made it sound a lot sweeter when you gladly accepted the prospect of him kissing your cheek, almost as though it was the only thing that would make your entire day. You were far too sweet for Stan but you attract more with honey than vinegar or so they say and needless to say you had this man hook line and sinker with how sweet you were.

‘Okay honey just remembered you’re the one who asked for this.’ Stan said as he pressed a kiss to your cheek that made you want more in the future.

[chrrymlks]

୨୧﹕ mustang .ᐟ part one

pairing ; au!nicholas chavez x fem!reader contains ; 80s alternate universe , slight smut ( makeout , undressing ) , enemies to lovers , getting caught. a/n ; this is based off of the aesthetic and time period of the ‘monsters’ show, but it is NOT based off of the menendez brothers. it is also based on ‘challengers’, specifically the tennis scenes. nicholas is a rich kid in the 1980s in this fic. summary ; after a competitive tennis match between y/n and nicholas, they decide to let their anger out in another way.

A TIE BREAKER is the last thing y/n needed for this match, and she could tell nicholas was furious too, swaying from side to side with his eyebrows furrowed, sweat dripping down his forehead slowly after a long game. it didn’t help that it was in the middle of a heatwave, and y/n’s legs had rubbed together so much that a chafing rash had began to form on her inner thighs. with every movement there was a burning sensation, but at this point she didn’t care — she wanted to make a point to nicholas, that she was better than him. she wanted to humble this rich boy so much, that looking at her in public would anger him.

so, pushing through the pain, y/n got into position and held the tennis ball against her racket, before looking nicholas in the eyes, unafraid of his intense gaze. and without a second thought, she threw the ball up into the air and hit it towards him.

with every grunt and hit of the ball from nicholas, y/n’s heartbeat raced. his muscles glistened in the sunlight as sweat drenched them. it was attractive, sure, but he wasn’t attractive. y/n could never imagine being attracted to him. the spoiled momma’s boy? no fucking way. it only fuelled her need to succeed, to show him who’s boss. so, as soon as she saw the chance, y/n hit the ball as hard as she could to the other side of the net, and without fail the ball bounced just before the baseline before bouncing once again out of the court.

nicholas just watched as he lost — he knew it would’ve been impossible to save himself from that.

as y/n and half of the audience cheered, nick agitatedly rubbed his temples with his left hand, trying to compose himself. this was until he shouted a loud “FUCK!” as he threw his racket on the ground.

y/n laughed at his outburst as they both walked up to the net, “is someone mad?”.

nicholas didn’t answer, putting his hand out for a short handshake. but, instead of letting go, he grabbed y/n’s hand tighter and pulled her in slightly, his eyes locked on hers. nick muttered under his breath, loud enough for only her to hear, “you’re fucking dead to me”, before pushing her hand away and walking off.

y/n furrowed her eyebrows. for some reason she felt hurt? it’s not that she liked him, or wanted him to like her. but that was just… mean.

after packing her things and thanking people for congratulating her, y/n began to leave the small stadium with her tennis bag slung over her shoulder. she walked into the parking lot, making her way towards her car and shoving her bag into the trunk before spotting another car — and she knew exactly who’s it was. the red 1965 ford mustang parked next to the lamppost, two rows from her car was obviously nicholas’.

y/n furrowed her eyebrows. wondering why he was still here, she decided to walk towards the car.

it seemed like nicholas didn’t realise she was walking up to his driver’s side window since he was looking down, eyes closed as he rubbed his temples in annoyance. the girl stood there for a while, pondering on how to get his attention before clearing her throat.

nicholas flinched before looking up at the girl who just beat him, her face in an awkward expression, “so..”

“no” he cut her off immediately, “fuck off”

y/n was taken aback by his rude remark before responding, “okay, no. stop acting like a fucking child”

“being annoyed about losing is acting like a child?” nick scoffed, opening his car door.

the girl moved to the side so he could get out, her arms folding as she leaned against the expensive car, “yeah, it is”

after he got out of the car, he crossed his arms, mimicking her. she had to look up to him now, as he towered over her with an annoyed smirk on his face, “it’s not my fault you’re a bitch”

“it’s not my fault you’re a sore loser” she retaliates, causing him to take a few small steps closer to her. y/n had to look even further up at him, actually seeing his face now as he blocked the sun with his head. the smell of his cologne mixed with sweat filled her lungs, which was strangely attractive to her.

nicholas spoke in a much softer, yet condescending tone than before, “sore loser, huh?”

“sore.” y/n got in his face, “loser.”

the two sat in the tension for a minute, just inches away from each other’s faces. nicholas inhaled her exhale, and she did the same with him. their eyebrows remained furrowed as they looked into each other’s eyes, filled with hate. you couldn’t tell if he was about to punch her, or kiss her.

that was until the tension broke as they both rushed to smack their lips together in a sloppy yet passionate kiss. nicholas wrapped his arms around y/n’s waist, roughly grasping her, as she moved her hands to his neck — one hand ran through his hair as the other dug her nails into his neck, causing him to let out a grunt, kissing her even rougher.

nicholas removed one of his hands from her body, reaching behind her for the door handle and opening the car door. they both swiftly got into the backseat of the car and slammed the door shut behind them, never breaking the kiss.

he then started placing sloppy kisses along her cheek and down her neck, letting y/n catch her breath as she reached for his biceps. she grabbed his muscles, getting flashbacks from when she observed them on the court.

abruptly, nick moved his hands from her waist to her thighs and pulled her in closer, placing himself in between her legs, causing y/n to let out a gasp. nicholas looked up at her, giving a playful smile which she returned before sharing another rough passionate kiss.

as he moved his hand up her tennis skirt, he lightly grazed his fingertips along her upper thighs. y/n’s body shivered at his touch before a sudden, loud knock on the window interrupted them both.

ah shit.

part i | part ii

[darlingdaisyfarm]

˚⋆｡ thinking about Ford who. . .✧˚ (x fem!reader)

minors don’t interact

Who can’t help himself.

His mind never really stops working, even when he’s inside you, moving so slow that has you writhing beneath him. His cock buried inside you, stretching you out inch by inch, but even now, his thoughts are somewhere between the galaxies and the stars. His cock pulses inside you, making you feel so good, but it’s not enough and yet he's still talking about the fabric of the universe. 

“You know. . . mmm, parallel dimensions have an infinite number of variables, but if you—" his breath hitches as he rolls his hips deeper, forcing your body to arch. “if you narrow them to specific constants you find— hahh, patterns.” little moan escapes your lips, needy, as his cock drags slowly against your walls.

His voice is calm, even steady despite the unhurried, delicious way he's fucking you, but you're barely listening. How could you? Every thrust has your mind blanking, leaving nothing but pleasure pooling low in your belly. Your nails digging into his back, you feel so abandoned each time he pulls out, only to have him slide back in with agonizing precision.

"Forddd. . .” you moan, head falling back into the pillow, begging for more, for faster. But his rhythm is controlled, measured, its like he’s savouring the way your cunt grips him, tight and so damn warm as he’s balls deep inside you.

“Dimensional travel. . . it’s not just theoretical, you see,” Ford’s voice is calm, as if he’s lecturing a class and not thrusting into your slick, dripping pussy, as if you’re not clenching around him so tight it’s driving you both insane. “If we can manipulate space-time— like this. . .” he punctuates his words with a deep thrust, his cock dragging against your soft walls in a way that makes your whole body shake. “we can alter outcomes. Mm, t-that means every choice you make branches into�� fuck, you’re tight— into infinite possibilities.”

You can hardly breathe, can barely think because of the pressure building between your legs and he’s still talking. God, he’s still talking. You hear him, even if barely, something about gravitational fields and parallel worlds, but it’s all turning into a blur with your eyes rolling in the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot inside again and again.

“You like it when I explain things to you,” Ford claims. “It turns you on, doesn’t it?”

You can’t even find the words to respond, because yes, you love it and fuck, you hate that you love it. All you can do is mewl and whimper, your hips rolling against him in a futile attempt to make him pick up the pace. He knows, god, he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Ford, please—!” his cock slides deeper, but that serious, calm tone, fuck, it’s driving you wild. You want him to stop talking, to focus, to pound into you like you need, but his voice just keeps spilling from his lips like honey. Your head rolls back, lips parting in pathetic little gasps and moans, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You can’t take it anymore, he’s teasing you, playing with you, dragging it out just to see how far he can push you before you break. “please, faster!” you plead, desperate for more, desperate for him to stop talking and just fuck you properly, hard and fast. But he’s still so calm, still so fucking unflappable. 

“Oh? you’re getting impatient?” Ford’s hand slides down your trembling thigh, lifting it higher, opening you up even more to him. “You wanted to learn about interdimensional physics, didn’t you?” he mumbles under his breath as he grinds into you, his cock plunging deeper, completely filling you and it feels like a dream for both of you. “I’m just giving you what you wanted.”

His fingers find your needy clit, rubbing in torturous circles as he continues that slow rhythm inside you. He’s barely breaking a sweat, his brow furrowed in concentration as if this is just another experiment to him meanwhile you’re such a mess under him. His cock twitches inside you as he changes angle again, deeper now and he takes a sharp breath, but he doesn’t stop talking. 

He doesn’t stop and you hate him.

Ford’s eyes roam over your trembling body, reveling in the sight of you, desperate and needy. Your eyes watery and mouth open in a breathless moan.

“The fascinating thing about dimensional shifts— god, you feel so good,” he trails off for a moment, and you think, finally, he’s losing focus. You roll your hips against his, hoping to break his composure. But instead of faltering, he chuckles, leaning down only to plant a small kiss on your lips. “you’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

“Fuck, p-pleasee!” you whine, spreading your legs wider, trying to press up against him, but he pins you down.

“Clever girl,” he mutters, voice rougher now, losing some of that composed edge as he looks at you, the desperate need written all over your cute face. “letting me teach you like this.”

He pulls out, almost completely, leaving you aching, empty, before slamming back into you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. "That’s my girl." his words make you cry out his name over and over again, your nails digging into his back as he starts to fuck you better, properly, his pace quicker, rougher now, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

He’s no longer focused on explaining the mysteries of the universe, he’s focused on you, on how your body responds to him, on how good it feels to have you wrapped around him, hot and wet and perfect, on how your wetness and slick coating his length. The sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the air, mixing with your desperate, needy moans and his groans when he finally fucks you the way you wanted, he ruts into you faster, harder, and it’s everything you needed, everything you craved. 

“Ford— oh fuck,” you cry out, head thrown back and he’s there, finally losing himself in the way your cunt clenching around him, making such wet squelching sounds, he’s lost in the way you’re moaning his name, voice so beautiful. You’re nearly drooling as you give him a silly smile, begging him to finish inside you.

“Cum for me,” he growls, his hand sliding down, thumb finding your clit and pressing down in fast circles what makes your head spin. “I want to feel you— cum for me, now.” you arch your back as the orgasm crashes through you, you walls flutter around him, the sensations are so intense you can’t even scream, only shake and try to cross your legs because pleasure is fucking overwhelming, though Ford never stops thrusting into your wetness. You’re trembling, mind blank as you cling onto him, holding him, feeling him.

Ford groans at the beautiful sight, his clever girl looks so pretty when she’s dumb fucked and cock drunk. However Ford is lost in pleasure too, your pussy feels so warm, so tight and good he just can’t stop fucking you. But he’s damn close. He grits his teeth, taking a deep breath, thrusting into you so hard, burying himself so fucking deep, his cock twitching as he spills into you, filling you up with every last drop. Finally, finally. He’s breathing heavily into your lips, glasses fogged, his chest heaving. You just lay there, taking it like a good girl you are.

Ford can’t stop looking at you, he kisses your forehead, softly and gentle. “Now. . . where were we? Ah, yes. Dimensional theory.”

You can’t help but laugh, head still spinning as he pulls you close, already starting to ramble again about parallel worlds and universal constants, like he wasn’t just inside you, fucking you senseless.

And honestly you wouldn’t have him any other way.

[mydrink-n-my2step]

YANDERE FARMER x TWITCH STREAMER READER

A/N: Howdy! I'm back again with a new series. My first ever fanfic series. I hope y'all enjoy, strap that cowboy of yours down and read this.

TW//: Smut, Bathtub masturbation, original character has you jorkin' his peanits, age gap (OC is 20, you are around 25), knives, spiders, teasing

5.8k words

“Fuck!” 

Today was supposed to be a lovely day for you. After you had gained 2,000 followers on Twitch, you wanted to celebrate your win with your number one cheerleader: your grandmother. She had already bought you a celebratory cake and some balloons for your little party. Followed by a little gift from her. She had a charm bracelet from James Avery crafted for you with a gaming console and a little heart that says “I love my granddaughter!”

You had left her house over 45 minutes ago. She warned you about leaving at night into the woods. However, you reassured her that you would be fine. The car ride home was somewhat okay, until you saw the car battery light flash. Your car had alerted you as well. You were scared because you were in the middle of nowhere. The nearest Autozone was an hour and thirty minutes away. Shit! 

A minute later, you could hear your car sputtering like crazy. It scared you when the car stopped on its tracks, leaving a tire imprint in the dirt road. You punched your car horn in a fit of rage, unaware of the fact that you might let someone or something dangerous know where you were. You retracted, remembering that your ex-boyfriend is a mechanic, and somehow you still had his phone number. Though it was a rocky relationship, you two did come to terms with remaining friends, so having his phone number seemed normal. 

Okay, you dialed his phone number, waiting for him to pick up. “Hello?” He responds, sounding tired. You felt bad for calling him at such a late time. Though on the other end, he was busy bumping uglies with another girl he had found at a bar. “Hey, could you come help me? I know it’s on such short notice, but my car broke down in the middle of the woods.” For a moment, the other line went silent. Then, you heard someone click their tongue. “Girl you know how far you are? I’m not going to leave my bed at 11:34 at night to pick your dumbass up!” 

“Well fuck you to then!” You said out loud for him to hear you. Then you heard a giggle on the other line. “You wouldn’t help your friend because you’re too busy fucking some other chick!” 

“We’re not friends Y/n, I don’t befriend my ex.” was all he said before hanging up on you. Ouch! You wanted to rip your steering wheel of and throw it across the dirt road. Break something or whatever! You were so fucking pissed off at the piece of shit man. But not for long. 

Behind you were blaring white lights from a truck that was coming by, you could hear the bass that was boosted, the person behind the wheel was playing Luke Bryan. You were in enemy territory. Pack it up.

Or so you thought? When the person parked in front of you and hopped out of his red and white 1990 Ford-250. Fear instantaneously overwhelmed you. You, a girl in the woods in a broken down car, with a random hooded man walking to it ever so slowly like he was plotting for your death! Okay Y/n, calm down. He’s probably wondering why you’re blocking the road. Maybe he is here to help you, be more optimistic–

Knock Knock! 

The man’s gentle knocks still startled you out of your deep thinking. You were scared to roll your window down and talk to him. But the fear decimated a bit when he removed his hoodie. Only his hat covered his eyes and dirty blonde hair, which looked like it wasn’t taken cared of, but who cares. 

“Are you lost?” He spoke, however his voice was faint from the window and the sound of his loud ass truck. You furrowed your eyebrows, you were seriously about to cuss this man out right now over your stupid ass ex. The man pointed his fingers down, indicating that he needed you to roll your window down. So you gave up, holding onto the pocket knife you had stolen from your grandma underneath the wheel by your knees, preparing to use it against him. 

“Can I help you?” 

“I um, see that your car has broken down. Do you feel comfortable coming with me while I tow your car to my place? I can get her fixed for free.” 

“Uh, no, that’s ok, sir. I have a tow truck coming for me right now.” You lied, and it was pretty obvious too.

“You sure ‘bout that? Because there are no tow services for 65 miles onward. And nobody normally gets lost in our neck of the woods. Please, you don’t have to lie to me, just let me tow your car, I can get it fixed.” 

You sigh, rolling your eyes. He had noticed and was close to saying something but bit back his tongue. You exit the car, he held his hand out for you to take, hesitant, you looked at him. He seems to be genuine with his gestures. He took it anyway, walking you to his pickup truck to sit in while he hooks your car up to his truck. Once he was done, he climbed into his truck. 

Something about this man calmed your nerves a bit, but at the same time, you wouldn’t let your guard down. Your left hand was still holding onto that pocket knife you took from Grandma’s. Your eyes wouldn’t leave his eyes, his auburn eyes that were finally visible and locked on the road ahead. You, a southern girl, weren’t too shy around country folk, however, you felt intimidated by this hulk of a man. You assumed he was around 6 feet 4, you were pretty tall yourself, and he seemed taller as well.

“What’s on your mind? You’re staring an awfully lot.” He asks, glancing at you for a brief moment before returning his attention to the dirt path. “Oh, um, nothing,” you said, placing the knife by your leg. It was pretty stupid of you to do so, and it was proven stupid when he hit a bump on the road, causing your knife to slice through your pants and skin accidentally. It wasn’t gnarly, but it was enough to bleed through your clothes.

“Shit,” you swore, causing him to stop on his tracks. The tall man faced you, noticing your hand was covered in blood. He sighed, unbuckling his seatbelt and exiting the truck. A few seconds later, you saw him on your side of the truck. He had opened the passenger door, and then he pulled his hoodie over his head, also taking his plain white t-shirt off. He folded it vertically. Wrapping it around your thigh and tying a knot around your thigh. When he was finished, he shut the door on you before you could thank him. He hopped into his seat for the last time, sighing in with an attitude in his tone. As if he told you himself that he wasn’t going to make any more stops until he made it to his house. 

The minute he turned his way out the dirt pavement, he pulled into a driveway that led him to his garage. He had pressed a button that opened his garage. When the garage was opened, he drove straight inside, stopping his tracks when he hit something. The taller man had switched his ignition off, taking his seatbelt off to exit his car. You reached for the door and attempted to open it, unbeknownst to you, it had a child safety lock on it. Now you felt like an idiot for deciding to hitch a ride with him. Though you thought it was the end, the end of you, you heard someone open the door to the house: A child.

“Elizabeth, help me unload the trunk.”

“I won’t help unless you say please,” the little girl said, crossing her arms and turning her head away from her likely brother. He rolled his eyes, scoffing at her, “Please, Eliza?” 

The girl finally complied, going to the back of the truck to help. When you would see them again, Elizabeth would make eye contact with you. She tilted her head with her eyebrow arched up. “Tannie, who is this girl in your truck tryna get out?” 

“Fuck!” the tall man cursed, running to let you out. “You’ll have to forgive me, I have the safety lock on for Douglas.”

“Oh, is Douglas your son?”

“Um, you could say that.” Coincidentally, Elizabeth had opened the door, allowing a big dog to run towards you as you were climbing out of the truck. You nearly screamed when it barked at you. “Dougie, don’t scare our guest like that!” Elizabeth scolded, rubbing her free hand through Douglas’s blue and white fur. Douglas had twirled around and rubbed his wet snout against your hand. He wanted you to pet him. So you did, and were smiling at your action, lying on the floor to allow you to rub his belly. 

“Oh, hi sweetie, it’s nice to meet you–um,”

“That’s Douglas, our Blue Heeler.” 

“Ah, ok, I thought you had kids.” 

“Tanner? Kids? No, he’s too shy around people,” the girl teased, laughing at her brother while he was glaring at her. “Elizabeth, get inside!” The tall man named Tanner said, walking off to tote your bags into his house. You hesitated to follow him inside. Not knowing what your next move was. Would you leave and find someone to take you home? Would you offer to sleep in your car instead of the house?

“Hey, whatcha standing there for? We have to get inside before the coyotes come getcha.” He teased, keeping the door propped open as he closed the garage and left. You had no other option, so your feet started moving, leading you inside the sibling’s house.  

“Tanner, where the hell have you been?” A raspy old man’s voice spoke on your left. You turned around to see who it was. Another tall man who, this time, looks roughly in his mid-fifties, had black hair with silver streaks on the side, a thick moustache, and a jaw that screamed Stan Smith looked you up and down. Tanner set your bags on his side, going up to his father, whispering something to him. You noticed how tall the father was, he was merely a few inches shorter than his son. Elizabeth tapped your shoulders, she told you she would take your items into the guest room. You were relieved when you heard “the guest room”, your stressed-out mind finding some peace. 

When Tanner was done talking to the older man, said man had walked up to you, apologizing, “My apologies my dear, you’ll have to forgive me, my son here often brings his friends over without my knowledge, but I see that you’re a hitchhiker looking for somewhere to stay while your car get fixed?” You nod, “Not much of a speaker, aren’t ya?”

“I’m very sorry, sir, it’s just been a long day, it’s a little scary being alone on the road in the woods.” You respond, taking in his features and trying to size him up a bit.

“I understand, it’s pretty dangerous out here. Hey Tanner, take the rest of this lady’s bags into the guest room.” The older man walked next to you and placed his arm around your upper back, leading you into his kitchen. He directed you into the dining room, where you assumed his wife was in, couponing. “Amelia, we have company.” He says to his wife. Amelia looked at you, a smile across her mouth. 

“Hi there, stranger, nice to meet you!” She said, coming off as teasing. She had stood up, taking you in her embrace. Not wanting to leave her hanging, your arms snake around her back. “What’s your name, dear?” Amelia asks.“It’s Y/n, Y/n L/n.” You heard a gasp behind you. The older adults looked to see who it was, but you didn’t seem to care. 

“Son, while you’re over there gasping, why don’t you direct Y/n to her guest room. My name is Dale, if you need anything, Tanner will be willing to assist you. We’re going to turn in, have a good night’s rest Y/n.” Dale says, leading his wife upstairs. Leaving you with Tanner, who only stood there with his mouth wide open and eyes dilated. 

“Are you *insert Twitch Streamer name*?”

“Yeah, is there something wrong?”

“I love watching your streams!” He spoke, walking next to you.

“It’s an honor to meet you finally. You got me through high school!”

“High school? I just started streaming a year ago. How old are you?” You jokingly ask, but in all seriousness, you genuinely believe he was up there in his twenties. 

“I’m 20!” 

“20?” He nods, taking your hands into his bigger, callous hands. 

“Yes, I’m 20. It may not seem like it, though. Y’know, you’re entertaining to watch.” He says, taking up the space between the two of you, his amusement at finally meeting his favorite Twitch streamer was making you uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry, I think I should lie down. Where’s y’all’s guest room?”

“It’s down the hall, but you don’t have to sleep in that dingy room. You can sleep in my room, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Oh I don’t think that’s necessary, I can sleep in the-“

“It has termites!” He spoke in a hasty tone, he obviously wanted you to sleep with him.

“No, look, I’ll be fine in the guest room. I will only be staying for one night anyway, then I’ll be out of y’all’s hair.”

“Ok, good night then,”

When you entered the family’s guest room, you surveyed their overly decorated room. It had a cute aesthetic that you felt comfortable with as it reminded you of your Grandmother. From the mahogany vanity with cute family collections, to the family portraits that hung on the ribboned wall. Her house is nicely decorated too. One of the first things you had done was remove your bra and stow it in your suitcase, then, you got undressed by their huge mahogany vanity. It was not rare for you to admire yourself in the mirror while you are bare. In fact, it has become a quiet ritual—those still, in-between moments when the world faded and the only gaze upon you was your own. Sometimes, it felt like a kind of worship, not of vanity, but of presence. Of being. You enjoyed seeing yourself in mirrors—not just to catch a glimpse of your shape or the curve of a shoulder, but to witness yourself as you truly are, unguarded and real. And only your eyes could see the true you, not another person. 

    Until—you noticed a peeping Tom entering your room. Why haven’t you closed the door? 

Douglas entered your room with a tennis ball in his mouth. When you acknowledged him, you immediately shut the door behind him. Maybe it was ok for the dog to see you, it’s only a dog. And…on a second thought—maybe not; you hurriedly rummage through your suitcase for your nightgown. Instantly throwing it on. Douglas hopped on your bed, still chewing on his ball. You sat beside him, running your hand through his coat. Looking back at the vanity mirror, you saw that the door was ajar, seeing a pair of auburn eyes watch you watch him.

“Tanner, what are you doing?”

“I umm—-was looking for Douglas. He ran off from my room. There you go Dougie!” He lied, taking the wet ball from him. Douglas cried, rubbing his wet nose against you, signaling that you tell Tanner to give him his ball. “Hey, why don’t you give your puppy his ball back?” Tanner obliged, but only threw the ball out of the room, the two of you watched Douglas scramble through the door, running as if he was a Scooby Doo character. 

“I hope you know, I’ve been a subscriber since you were at only 100 subscribers.” He spoke with pride on his tongue. You only cringed at his words, but immediately changed your face when he looked at you with those puppy dog eyes. 

“Thank you so much, I appreciate your honesty.” You half fibbed. Cheesing so he wouldn’t see how uncomfortable you were. You really wished at that moment a country bumpkin had picked you up instead of  him. “Could we stay up, I want to learn more about you.” He asks, leaning his shoulder against yours before resting his head against yours. “No, actually, it’s pretty late. Why don’t we continue this tomorrow morning when you’re fixing my car.” Tanner sighs in a disappointed tone. He got off of the bed, walking to the door abruptly. He bid his goodbye and told you to sleep well, you told him the same, peeling the covers to crawl in bed then switching the lights. 

A little over three hours later, Tanner couldn’t sleep. He had stayed up watching your previous streams on his laptop in his boxers. His fingers dangerously close to his groin as he watches you play your most recent game, Class of ‘09. Normally, he’s not a fan of vulgar content. Matter of fact, he despises vulgar, dark content, often watching your more tame content. As a streamer, you always make sure to check on your 200 viewers, making sure they aren't uncomfortable. One time, he had replied to your comment section, after you had asked what everyone was doing. Tanner mentioned that he was milking his cows while watching you. You, not believing him, merely laughed. He didn’t find it funny, though he loved seeing you laugh, even at him. 

    When he watches your streams, he feels as though you and him are the only people in the chat. You’re talking to him and ONLY him. As a fan, he felt prideful of having you at his house, sleeping in his guest room too. And maybe you will warm up to the idea of sleeping in his room. You will have to, he’ll make sure of it. Growing bored, he decided to go downstairs to pop his head in your room. Seeing your body rise and lower as you sleep. He wanted a closer look of you, so he creeped inside, making sure to avoid bumping into anything. As he walked closer, he felt a stir in his boxers. Oh God, not this!

He had instantly turned around, walking back into the light. Unaware of you turning to your side to face him. “Tanner?” you spoke, your morning breath prominent. He turned to look at you, you switched the bedside lamp on. Now you were scared again.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” 

“I-I, I left my…book in here. That’s why.” He lied straight to your face. He picked up his book, a family bible that was older than you and him combined. You were too tired to argue with him, so you switched the lamp off and went back to sleep. Tanner shut the door for you, his mind begging him to go back inside, even though you were so close to calling for Dale or Amelia. So he ignored his greedy mind, taking himself upstairs to go back to sleep. Later on today, he has some work to take care of on your car. 

You for sure saw his pecker.

When you woke up, it was 9:30 am. Your nose could smell hotcakes on the stove. When you turned to the other side, you nearly punched the daylights out of Tanner. “Rise and shine! Mom made some breakfast for you.” You signed, eyes rolling as you sat up in your bed. Your fingers gripped the bridge of your nose, glaring at Tanner as he only smiled at you. Your glare was eating him up.

“I know this is your house, and that you are a big fan of me, but all I ask from you is that you give me some personal space, please, Tanner?” Tanner’s smile faded, his arms crossed as he–pouted at you? Why was he pouting at you?

“Okay, I’m sorry about last night. It wasn’t right for me to bombard your privacy.” 

“Or enter the room unannounced twice,” you mumbled, “All I want from you is to fix my car and let me go home.” 

“Okay, I’ll get onto that after breakfast.” Tanner leaves the guest room, keeping it wide open so everyone could see you. Elizabeth was in the kitchen with her mom, she noticed you exiting the guest room a little peeved. “Good morning, how did you sleep last night?” She asks, giving you a plate of hotcakes and bacon. “I slept fine, I just kept having a few visits at night.” You didn’t tell her who, so she assumed Douglas wanted to sleep with you. 

“Douglas can be a handful. Come and sit with us, darling.” Amelia says, pressing her hand on your back and walking you to the dining room table. There, Tanner and Dale were talking about what work needed to be done on the car. You could tell it was their passion by how they were passionately arguing with each other on what to do to start your car battery. Once you sat down, the argument ended, Tanner had ignored his father while scooting his chair and plate to you. You gulped down your last remaining spit as your mouth was severely dry. Amelia had sent over a pitcher of orange juice for y’all to drink, so you immediately got a glass of that. 

“Oh, good morning Y/n, it’s nice to see you and Tanner have made acquaintances.” Dale assumes. Tanner smiled at you, his big hand taking yours. You hastily removed your hand from his. Though he was visibly embarrassed, he still kept his smile on his face. “When breakfast is over, we will start working on your car. Imma need your keys by the way.” Dale continued. 

“Thank you sir, I really appreciate the hospitality from y’all.” You really did. The family were extremely kind and were at access to your needs.  “Well we appreciate the company. It’s only been a couple of  hours, and you’ve already gotten Tanner out of his shell.” Amelia jokes, causing her family to laugh. You tried to ignore Tanner’s admiring stare at you, but your skin was burning from his stare. What was with this boy?

“Pop the hood, let’s see what we’re working with,” Dale told his son, watching Tanner open your car’s hood. He obliged, propping it open, being welcomed by the car’s problem. The fuse had blown. Not to worry though, the Jeffersons had plenty of unused car parts in their shed. 

“I’ll go grab the thing and my tools, go tell Y/n what the problem is.” Dale responds, leaving his son to go behind his house. Ignorant to what his son was going to do. 

Watching for his father, making sure he was leaving, Tanner had the opportunity to pull your pocket knife out. He stole it while you were asleep. He rubbed his index finger against the blade, making sure it was sharp enough to cut. He looked at his cut skin, seeing the blood threaten to trickle from his finger. He had to hurry, his dad knew where all the car parts were, he’ll be back soon. 

He pulled out a random red wire, cutting it with ease. Before he heard his dad’s boots against the crunched up leaves, he stowed your knife into his pants pocket. Dale returned, unaware of what his son was doing. Tanner was the car mechanic; he knew more than anyone, so Dale assumed his son was analyzing the situation.

“Dad, we’ve got bad news.”

“What is it, son?” 

“There’s a cut wire.”

“Damn, have you told Y/n yet? Or I’ll go tell her?”

“No, I’ve got it.” Tanner ran into his house. When he shut the door lightly, he tried to contain his smile, he was pretty proud of himself. Taking that risk so you could stay with him longer. His dad would assume that the wire was cut by a hooligan, and he’ll have to order a new wire and have another person fix your car. Now you’ll HAVE to stay with him.

*Knock Knock*

You opened your door, rolling your eyes when you saw Tanner again. You’re going to have to get over it soon. “How may I help you?”

“Y/n, bad news: your battery has blown a fuse, and there’s a cut wire. We currently have no spare wires so Dad is going to order one.” 

Damn it, you curse in your brain. Your hopes of leaving this weirdo fan forever squashed by someone who was a bitch enough to cut your wire. You couldn’t help but cry a bit. Like literal tears were streaming from your face. Tanner, obviously consoling you in his muscular arms, rubbing his hand against your hair. 

“I know you want to leave so bad. Leave me—to go back and make videos for us. But I’m sorry.”

You wrapped your arms around his thick torso. He felt as though the wind was knocked out of him because of you. What were you doing to him? He rubs your back, feeling your bare back, you still had no bra on. You still had no bra on! 

He prayed for his body to reject his arousal. Thinking of weird things to get rid of those lewd thoughts. When he felt secured, he let go of you, looking down to make sure it wasn’t there. 

“If it makes you feel any better, would you like to go visit some place with me?”

“Where, Tanner?” 

Tanner had stopped his truck by a log that prevented him from going any further. When he got out of his car, walking in front to let you out, he opened the truck door, letting you out. When your feet were on the ground, he took your hand into his, leading you to the little pond boardwalk. 

“I know you’re pretty tense right now, so I decided to take you to my favorite place to wind down. There’s no one around to bother us.”

“Oh, ok, thank you,” you said, sitting down on the boardwalk. Not aware of Tanner toting foldable chairs for you two. “I've got chairs if you want to sit comfortably.” He says, propping one open, then going for the next one. “You stood up, taking the chair next to him. Tanner leans back, his head hanging from the seat. You watch him, earning a smile on his lips. Something in you started to feel off. His juvenile smile, dusty blond hair, and his hulking build on a childish man. Fanboy behavior fighting his shy demeanor, his admiration towards you. Somehow, you didn’t abhor his admiration, you just wish he were less of a nuisance. 

You weren’t aware, but you were staring at his sleeping body. Watching him breathe lightly as he napped. You didn’t want to stoop to his level of “admiration”, so you pulled your phone out and scrolled through your notifications. You took another look at him, this time scared. 

“Tanner? Hey Tanner, wake up, hon!” Tanner’s eyelids pried open. “Something’s tickling my leg.” He says, disoriented. “I know, there’s a big ass spider on your leg.” Instantly, he jumped up, kicking the spider off his pant leg. You hopped out of your seat as well, your body shaking from the big wolf spider that was still crawling up his leg. The hairs on his body erected as the eight-legged heathen gradually crawled up his calf.  And suddenly, you did the unthinkable, you told him to stay still so the spider would get flicked by your phone. He obliged, not moving a muscle, not breathing while he stood absolutely still. When your phone picked the spider up, it crawled on your screen, and then you flicked it off, causing it to land in the water below. 

Without warning, Tanner wraps his bulky arms around your body and lifts you clean off the boardwalk like you weigh nothing. One second you were steady, the next your feet dangled in the air, heart skipping a beat at the sudden closeness. His scent hits you–clean sweat, his mother’s linen softener, the wooden smell of his cologne, something warm and alive. His grip was firm, a little too tight, but not uncomfortable. Just present—unshakably there. 

Only did he realize that he was holding you in the air like he would to Douglas. Right hand on lower back, left on upper. He puts you down gently, clearing his throat as he is rendered uncomfortable with his actions. “Thanks,” he murmurs near your ear, voice low and rough with adrenaline. “For flicking it off.” 

You acknowledged how rattled he still was. His thick fingers twitch against your back like the ghost of the spider had climbed there, and his breath fans your neck–hot, uneven. “You saved my ass,” he adds, and though it was half a joke, there’s a real edge in it. Like for a second, the spider wasn’t the only thing crawling under his skin. 

“It’s okay, you seem tense, let me drive you home so you can take a bath. That usually calms my nerves.” 

In the guest bathroom, you turned the bath water on. Running your hand under the cold water as it gradually turned hot. Tanner had waited for you on the bathroom’s vanity chair. When you weren’t looking, he locked the bathroom door swiftly. Once the water became hot, you told him to strip off his clothing. You were about to leave the bathroom when he took your hand and gestured for you to sit on his chair. What you were about to see was not something you agreed to. Tanner unbuttons his flannel and removes it, then along came his white t-shirt, and before he could start unbuckling his pants, you stopped him by placing your hand on his. “Honey, let me go so you can undress.” 

“You’re still…coming back right?” You sigh once more, pinching your nose in shame. Do I really want to deal with this right now? 

“Yes, dear, I’ll be back.” 

When you returned, he was already in the bubbly water, waiting for you with that smug look you knew too well. His legs were hanging out of the tub, and the dusty blonde tips of his hair were wet. You rolled your eyes, and he chuckled, arms lounging lazily along the rim of the tub.

You grabbed his washcloth and soap, dipping both into the water until the cloth foamed. He watched you with a smirk as you worked—first lathering his arm, then his chest. When you leaned in closer, he tilted his head toward your ear and whispered, “This is your idea of multitasking? Bathing me and torturing me at the same time?”

His teasing made you sigh and pull your hand away. He groaned dramatically—half-laugh, half-whine—and caught your wrist gently. “Hey,” he said, grinning, guiding your hand back. In the moment of tugging and half-resisting, your fingers slipped somewhere you hadn’t intended.

You both froze, then burst into awkward laughter. “That–I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry!” you muttered.

“Maybe it meant to happen,” he replied, eyes glinting, but his voice stayed soft, leaving the moment open—for you to decide where it would go next. When you continued your bathing, he stopped you, taking your hand and gliding it down into the bubbly water. You didn’t retract, only watching his molasses pupils take control of you. While your hand grasped his, y’know, you were shocked at how thick it was. He was a pretty big guy, maybe that’s why. 

Suddenly, the room grew silent—and hot. The hot water that caused his skin to sweat also turned it pink. But that wasn’t the only pink on him. While he had your hand on his shaft, the warm water lapped gently around you both. Tanner’s breath hitched when you started jerking him off, muscles tightening above and beneath your touch. When he had the courage, he leaned closer to your mouth, wetting his lips while you were still touching him. He let his hand maneuver your head to face him, and then, he pressed his thinner, cherub pink lips against yours. 

Tanner allowed his tongue to invade your mouth, teasing your slimy tongue with his. Your lips parted enough for him to play with your mouth with his pink organ. You had slowed your progress on his cock, distracted by the kiss. Tanner noticed right away, cupping your cheeks with his bear hands, “Please, don’t go anymore slower.” He had rested his forehead against yours, “I need you, Y/n, I need you so bad.”

What you were feeling wasn’t annoyance anymore. It was a mixture of multiple conflicting feelings. You were scared of being outed as someone who jerks off fans. And you feared that Tanner would tell people, even show it. But you couldn’t control your urges FUCKING hell you wanted this man and you can’t deny it anymore. From his chivalric behavior the other night to this, if your moral compass wasn’t the way it was, so conservative, so forbidding, you would’ve toppled this guy the night he came into your room. 

It was only day one of you staying over at the Jeffersons, who knows how long you will be staying with this family. But here you are, pleasuring the eldest child. What is wrong with you?

Tanner was almost close; you could sense it. From him tightening his butt to his head thrown back against the tile wall. He had unlocked his jaw to moan, damn he moans like a girl, you thought, causing you to feel a twinged down your south tinseltown. He had you in his clutch, figuratively and literally, his strong hands holding your arms. He nearly cried from his pleasure, his body tensing up. And all of a sudden, you felt warm juices on your fist. Then on your cheek, you saw his cum dribble from his cock, and then came the orgasm thoughts that became words.

“I love you, Y/n, always have!” You pressed your finger against his mouth, realizing that someone had entered the guest room. “Tanner? Ms. Y/n? Where the hell are y’all?” It was Dale. You scurried into the towel closet, hoping Dale wouldn’t persecute you for what you’d done. 

“Son, are you in here? I heard some weird noise, just say something so I can go back to what I was doing, I don’t want to confront you right now.”

“Yes, Dad, it’s me, I’m taking a bath!” Tanner yelled, taking the washcloth and finishing his wash. Dale responds with an ok, leaving the guest room and shutting the door behind him. “Hey, you can exit the towel closet now,” Tanner says, rubbing himself with the soap. You exit the closet, “You do realize that now you have to take another bath?” 

“Yeah, and maybe,” Tanner stood up, he leaned to grab his towel from the towel rack, wrapping it around his torso, “you’ll join me?” You scoffed at his response, opening the door and leaving the room. 

[tremendouscreationperson]

Stan having no idea who you are after his mind is wiped but you're gorgeous. You kneel in front of him, hand on his arm, trying not to break down as you introduce yourself.

It doesn't work and you can't help but pull him in for a hug, Stan awkwardly patting your back. You needed the comfort, he was yours and you needed him.

Ford eventually tries to pull you away and you shake your head, clinging harder, pathetically telling him no.

"Hey, she can stay as long as she wants." Stan tightened his hold as he frowned at Ford. He may have no clue about the group staring at him but if someone as beautiful as you needed a hug from him he would oblige.

"No, he's right." You spoke in his ear before pulling back, swatting at your wet cheeks.

Stan's eyes roamed your face. It was sad and in pain but he knew he had never seen anyone as glorious as you. The curve of your cheek, the line of your nose, your lips... Your eyes had turned a hue of pink, because of your sobs, that made them shine.

He felt like a kid. He didn't know what to say or do but he wanted needed to get on your good side.

What had you said your name was again?

[bigfatbimbo]

Once again , please tell me if you're uncomfortable writing it, but Ford being so starved of touch, having so many places of stimulation touched on his body and being praised that he's accidentally cumming very quickly in his pants during a heavy make out session!

He says a little "Oh! :( " when it happens.

He feels very mortified and ashamed, tries to hide it first to make it unnoticeable (he failed big time at it). His girlfriend reassures him, tells him it's okay, it's hot and there's nothing to be ashamed of. ❤️😭

-🌌

Work Break

700 words,, Stanford x reader

a/n — Couldn’t think of a song title this time, I feel out of character. Also this isn’t proofread.

warnings — NSFW, dom!reader, at what point in the series this takes place is unclear, gender neutral!reader, sub!ford

summary — Reader helps Ford take a break from work, he gets a little excited.

You kiss up his jawline and land on his check before he decides to protest, “I have mountains of work that I have to get back too—“

“Just wait, baby,” You make your way over to his mouth, feeling that he’s about to abject again, and so you roll your hips ever so slightly on his slap.

He was half-hard from the attention, and he sucked in breath when you did it. A paper was still in one hand, as he’d refused to give in yet. 

“Y/n—“ He warned, voice now shaky, but was cut off with a disgusting kiss on his lips. 

Your hands explored his body, caressing his chest, and tracing on his arms, before settling on his pecks. For a nerd, he had a wonderful body. You always thought that. 

You broke away from the kiss, drawing a sound of disappointment from Ford, which he tried to cover up by clearing his throat.

“You deserve this, you know,” You remind, tugging at his collar to flash a little bit of skin on his neck. You needed a place to sink your teeth into.

“Don’t be absurd, i’ve barely gotten anything done today. I deserve a slap on the wrist and an order to get back to work— ah— ah—“

You sank into his neck while he was talking, and licked the spot after you were done, “You know that’s not true, Ford.”

And you were being honest. Whenever a new project caught his attention, he acted like it was the end of the world all over again. 

“You’ve done so much already, it’s coming along good,” You pluck the papers out of his hands either mild protest from Ford, and take his hand afterwards.

“Your— doing— so— good—“ You plant a kiss on every one of his fingers inbetween words, Ford blushes and looks away, muttering something about how he’s ‘not necessarily doing good, barley done anything..’ 

To make the make out session a little more to Ford taste, you take his other hand and do the same thing. This time, rolling your hips ever-so-slightly against his, now fully hard, cock.

He whimpered, and you took the opportunity to interlock lips with him again. Pushing your mouths together���with excessive spit, if you’re being honest—you continued the slight roll of your hips he seemed taken with.

At some point, your hands let go of his, and went to his hair. You deepened the kiss once more. In between breaths, you commented things like, “So good, ford,” “You’re so beautiful,” “So smart, baby.”

The entire time Ford had been whimpering into your kiss, hands now placed on the side of your hips and grasping at the fabric on your shirt. His pants had tightened noticeably during this time, and he was hoping you wouldn’t notice the precum beginning to stain the top of his pants. 

You had a way of turning his brain to mush that, surprisingly, he didn’t just allow. He craved. Your attention was positively unmatched, especially when your moving like that, or how your tongue his doing that thing he likes, or how your saying such sweet things and— 

 Oh.

Ford whined uncharacteristically and buried himself in your kiss. His hands moved you down on his lap so you wouldn’t notice what happened. 

It didn’t work. You opened your eyes with a quizzical look and tapped the crotch of his pants, then breaking away fully to look down. 

He was still hard, but it was apparently he’s finished earlier by the embarrassing stain on his slacks.Poor thing. 

“I-i’m sorry, y/n. I got—“ he rubbed the back of his neck apologetically, “—carried away. I guess, uh, I should cleanup and… Oh god, i’m sorry—“

Your face looked sympathetic, as it guided his chin back to meet your gaze, “No, no, it’s fine, Ford really. It’s cute you got so excited.”

His looked lightened at this, but you continued before he could talk. 

“In fact, why don’t we do it right this time? If you’re up for round two.”

[cinnamongrl2006]

˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹Cowboy!Jason Todd 18+ mdni (because I have @ditzydoe444 brainrot)˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹

summary: Your brother's best friend Jason Todd takes you out to a bar and you unknowingly hint at the cowboy rule.

a/n: Jason is in his early thirties and reader in her early twenties! Also this is the first time I write smut on here lolz

Cowboy!Jason Todd Who takes you out to the local dive bar, he convinced you it was a much needed outing after a stressful week of final exams. You'd been studying so much, and he'd missed you. He'd missed your hangouts, missed partying with you, missed those jean shorts you wore that made him have to remind himself he was your brother's best friend.

Cowboy!Jason Todd Who spends the entire night by your side, like a guard dog. He tells himself it's only right, your brother would like him to watch over you, protect you. He tells himself that warm feeling in the pit of his stomach is because of the tequila the both of you are currently downing.

Cowboy!Jason Todd Who is a little startled when you stand on your tiptoes to snatch his hat and place it on your head, donning a tipsy smile. Your eyes shine with myrth as you look up at him.

"Do you know what you're doin'?" He leaned down to speak to you, his breath warm against your cheek.

You shrug, laughing lightheartedly.

When Cowboy!Jason Todd informs you of a so called cowboy rule— wear the hat, ride the cowboy— you are quick to comply, partly because you're tipsy, partly because you'd had a crush on Jason since you first saw him at a county fair a couple years back.

❀✿＊❀✿＊❀✿＊❀✿

Cowboy!Jason Todd who has you sat on his lap in the backseat of his car— a beat down ford mustang— legs sprawled over his thick thighs, hands clawing at the hem of his shirt as he grips your ass over your shorts and wants nothing more than to pull them down and get his way.

Cowboy!Jason Todd who is pleasantly surprised when you lean down and kiss him. It starts out soft and slow, but as the both of you build your confidence your kiss grows messy and passionate; hands roam up and down each others' bodies, teeth clash, pull and bite; tongues begin exploring as you lose yourselves in the moment.

Jason lifts you up effortlessly and helps you tug your shorts down your legs. His hands find your ass again and he tugs you closer, pressing your clothed cunt to the zipper of his jeans. You gasp at the friction and he pushes his hips out slightly in response, groaning.

"Fuck," he breathed out "you're killing me darlin'"

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this, Jay,"

His hand moves in between your bodies and under your panties, two fingers stop teasingly at your entrance before they push in slowly, curling, fingertips pushing at your gummy walls.

"Thought about this before, sugar?"

You unbuckle his belt and pull at the waistband of his jeans, he pulls them down his thighs. You eye the bulge in his boxers expectantly.

"Maybe." You shrug as you dip your hand under the waistband.

Cowboy!Jason Todd who knows what he's doing is wrong, that he shouldn't be fucking his best friend's little sister, but he can't bring himself to care, not when she's wrapped around him so tightly, being so good for him.

Cowboy!Jason Todd who knows he will do it again.

co-written with @prettywritergirl2, my irl bestie and the prettiest girl in the world!!

———————

masterlist

cowboy!Bruce

[jomajaba]

hey ontarians get out and vote in the provincial election tomorrow!!! vote if you are eligible by 9pm tomorrow!!

elections.on.ca

educate yourself on the candidates in your area, who you align with, and get out there!

want to avoid vote splitting? use this to help get ford and the conservative party out of office!

smartvoting.ca

low voter turnout (44%) helped win him the last election and he’s using this snap election in the middle of winter to try and win again. polls are suggesting it’s going to be a close race. we don’t need a man in charge with a history of being a fan of the current us president fucking us over some more.

so get out and vote!!

[multi-fandom-imagine]

➤𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 || Stanley Pines ||

Warnings: male / female masturbation, fantasizing, blow job, age gap { reader can be in late 20's - late 30's } , dirty talk.

Based around this scene

Heart pounding in your chest you fell back on the bed, towel still wrapped around your body. Your teeth sinking in your lips.

You shouldn't be thinking about this, fantasizing about him.

Not with all he was doing for you, but after seeing the way his shirt clung to his skin, how he offered to teach you how to box.

But...it wouldn't hurt...just to think about him...would it?

God he'd look good, you saw him fixing your car. The way his muscles flexed. You could help wonder what it would feel like to have those arms wrap around you.

You'd let yourself fall into this fantasy once, no one will know. You were the only one in the house after all.

Eyes closed your fingers slipped under the fabric of the towel messaging and rubbing your breast, thumb gliding over the nipple as your other hand drifted down your stomach. Your breath hitching as your fingers teased your slick entrance.

"Stan."

His name was weak on your lips as your fingers continued to slide in and out of your pussy. You couldn't help but let your thoughts drift off to Stan, that it was him doing this to you. His thick fingers spreading your folds, thumb circling your clit as he stared down you with that smirk you've become so fond of.

'That's it doll...I wanna see you come undone'

You could almost hear his voice thick with desire as you humped your fingers. "Stan" his name was weak on your lips, your thumb rubbing your clit as your breaths started to come out in short pants. The familiar warmth pooling in your belly, the sign informing you on how close you were.

You had that messaged your breast moving to you cover your mouth to muffle your cries of pleasure as your walls clenched around your fingers, your hips rising off the bed. Your back arching as you came undone, your release coating your fingers. His name spilling from your lips again.

He didn't mean to watch, he swears on his life he didn't. Stan had just wanted to check up on you since you said you weren't feeling well earlier. He was worried so he left Ford with the twins but this, this wasn't something he was expecting.

Stan felt dirty, he felt like a pervert but he couldn't pull his gaze away from you. Were you really thinking of him that way?

Good you looked so good, the way your body trembled. How your fingers slipped in and out of your slick entrance.

'Fuck it felt a lot hotter here, his pant's felt a little to tight.'

Stan wanted to know what you tasted like, what your walls would feel like wrapped tightly around his cock, eyed still glued to your form he watched you come undone. His name spilling from your lips, your sex glistening.

Shuddering, his cheeks flushed from watching your orgasm he turned away shifting his body. Heart pounding in his chest he quickly made his way towards his room.

He needed to take care of his problem.

Now clad in your pajamas, you started to search the house. They weren't back yet, well the twins and Ford weren't judging by Stan's red car out in front of the shack.

Slowly walking towards his room, you didn't know why you were walking towards him after what he did but you had to see him.

Hand on the door knob, your body tensed once you heard your name. Heart leaping in your throat, you opened the door a crack. Stifling a gasp your eyes went wide at the sight. Stan lying back on the bed jaw clenched as he let out a guttural groan, his hips rocking in time with the firm strokes of his hand.

Biting your tongue you felt warm creep up your neck, heart pounding in your chest.

"That's it, doll," he rasped, his voice rough with need as he thrusted into his hand. Your name spilling from his lips. Part of you wanted to turn away, leave since you were watching this moment. But he said your name, he wanted you too.

Biting your lip to steel your nerves, you opened the door slipping in the room closing the door. Jolting from the sound, Stan grasped a pillow to cover himself as he did his best to stutter out a response as you made your way towards him, his body shifting to the edge of the bed as you dropped to your knees

"W-what are you?" Stan's cheeks a bright red as he watched you, a stark contrast from what you were used to.

Kneeling on the bed, you wrapped your hand around his. "Let me help you Stan."

This didn't feel real, it had to be some wet dream he was having about you. A strangled groan escaped his lips as your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, his eyes closing as he tried not thrust up in your mouth.

Stan let out a strangled groan as your warm, soft lips enveloped him. His fingers wove through your hair, knuckles turning white as he struggled to keep his focus. The sensation of your skilled tongue swirling and caressing him was utterly intoxicating.

"Unngh, fuck..." he growled, his voice ragged. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire, the pleasure building with every bob of your head.

Despite his best efforts, Stan could feel his control slipping. His hands clutching the sheets below him tightly as a particularly delicious flick of you tongue threatened to undo him.

"Sweetheart, I don't know how much longer I can..." His words dissolved into a guttural moan as you took him deeper, humming around his throbbing length.

Gritting his teeth, Stan willed himself to hold on, to savor every exquisite sensation. But you were relentless, your hand stroking and caressing in perfect harmony with your talented mouth.

The coil of heat in his belly was tightening with every agonizingly pleasurable stroke of her mouth.

"Christ," he growled, fingers threading through your hair as he fought to keep his hips still. "You're killin' me here, sweetheart..."

Glancing up at the man, you couldn't help but smirk as you slowly pulled your mouth away. "Don't go having a heart attack on me Stan...I care about you far too much."

Giving him one last look, you took him into your mouth not waiting on a response. The heat in his belly coiled at the familiar sensation.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last much longer..." Stan rasped, his voice thick with impending release.

With a guttural groan, he fought against the overwhelming urge to pull your mouth off his cock and take you then and there.

"You're one hell of a woman, doll," he murmured, his tone laced with reverence and desire. "And I'm gonna spend all night showin' you just how much you mean to me."

Stan let out a guttural groan as hand wrapped around his shaft, moving in a steady, maddening rhythm. The vibration of your moan around his shaft sent shockwaves of pleasure through him, his control wavering.

"Shit" he rasped, his hips bucking as he felt the coil of tension reach its peak. "You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?"

His grip on your hair tightened as he threw his head back, stars exploding behind his eyes. With a hoarse cry of your name, Stan surrendered to the waves of ecstasy crashing over him, his release spilling forth in hot, thick spurts.

Moaning, you did your best to swallow his release as your hand worked the base of his shaft as his cum dribbled past your lips.

"Fuck, yes," he growled, his body trembling with the intensity of his orgasm. "Just like that, doll. Take it all."

Pulling his softened cock out of your mouth you gave him a lazy smile licking your lips. "Didn't think you had it in you old man." You teased as you felt him grasp your chin.

Stan's chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, his gaze molten with spent desire. A lazy, satisfied grin tugged at the corners of his lips.

"You really know how to work a guy over, don't you?" he murmured, his thumb tracing the outline of her swollen lips. "I'm one lucky son of a bitch."

Stand off your knees, you gave him a lazy kiss as your hand move to his belly. "I think I'm the lucky one Stan."

Biting back a snort, Stan tugged you to his chest as he lazily tucked himself back into his boxers.

"We're gonna take a nice little nap and once we wake up I'm gonna fuck you good sweetheart."

"I'm holding you to that Stanley." You smiled snuggling into his chest.

After what you suspect will be mind blowing sex you'll let the man you've decided to stay. You had a feeling he'll be happy about it.