#just this combination of guy and his fucked up little buddy

[sorrelpaws]

i love a duo that is just so stupid

[springwitch26]

flowers and firsts (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: being the gracious friend you are, you offer to share your weed with melissa and jacob for a fun friday night at their place. when jacob goes to bed, things get heated between you and your favorite coworker.

warnings: smut (18+), consensual high sex, recreational marijuana use (be responsible), strap-ons, praise kink, vibrators, soft melissa, stoner reader, attempts at comedy (it's a fun fic guys), mario kart 8 GONE SEXUAL

notes: happy 4/20. this wasn't requested, but my OCD is beating the fuck out of me rn and writing it brought me comfort. let me know what you think. much love from your favorite slutty stoner 💚

"i know kids are curious, but eighth grade is a bit early to try weed, right?" jacob bounced his leg anxiously as he raised the question to his friends in the teachers' lounge. one of his students had just been suspended for bringing marijuana to school, and jacob was characteristically worried about the kid.

"i started in tenth grade, but teenagers are growin' up younger and younger these days," melissa responded. barbara raised her eyebrows in shock, and melissa reacted with an amused half-smile. "like trouble over here. when was your first time, hon?"

you tried to ignore the innuendo as melissa invited you into the conversation. you had been hired to teach the third grade a few months ago. you and melissa had a rapport from the first moment you walked into the lounge. every time you were in a room together, you made each other laugh. melissa made you feel at ease in your new workplace, and you felt lucky to have her.

because you both got along so well, ava often paired you up for team-building exercises and combined-class activities. the two of you weren't exactly close friends yet, but you had chemistry. that much was obvious to everyone at abbott.

"tenth grade for me, too," you answered between sips of your morning coffee. "a friend and i did it in the bathroom before art class. good memories."

"what, did you have some kinda fancy vape pen?" melissa cocked an eyebrow at you.

"i wouldn't call it fancy, but yeah, we mostly smoked carts," you explained. "bought 'em from the upperclassmen in the parking lot before school. i'm pretty sure they weren't pure weed, though. we had to be smoking battery acid, or plastic or something."

"god, your generation is weird. smokin' chemicals out of a flash drive," melissa said, gesturing wildly to convey her amazement. "the first time i got high was in detention. my buddy steve would sneak in and bring us cigarettes and blunts. they all looked the same, so we played russian roulette with it. now everybody walks around with those neon devices in their pockets."

"i can't tell if you're being serious or if you're referencing the breakfast club," you giggled, nudging the redhead's shoulder jokingly as you sat down next to her.

"ha ha, very funny, little miss," melissa deadpanned. you had asked her to stop calling you "kid" a few weeks ago. she respected your wishes by coming up with all sorts of endearing synonyms to call you instead. "what about you, jacob? you used to vape—ever experimented with mary jane?"

"or mark john?" you added. melissa snorted and gave you a playful swat on the arm.

"no, actually, i haven't," jacob said, rolling his eyes at your quip. "i didn't have many friends in high school or college, and after that i had to be drug tested regularly for teachers without borders. i never got the chance."

"well, if you ever feel like trying something new, i have plenty to share," you offered. "can't have you over at my place, though; every time i bring guests around, my crazy neighbor thinks they're cia operatives."

everyone in the room except melissa gave you a shocked look. barbara looked especially aghast, her brightly painted lips curled into an 'o' shape.

"damn, i thought janine was the only after-school stoner here. what a pleasant surprise!" ava broke the silence.

"i suppose i would partake given one of those weed pens you mentioned," jacob said to you. "the only thing i've been vaping lately is air, and it gets stale after a while."

"oh no, i haven't used a cart since high school," you clarified. "if you're smoking with me, you're smoking. don't worry, it's easy. just like vaping, but better in every way."

"first of all, no smoke circle is happening under my roof without me." melissa chimed in, looking at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded—of course you wanted her there. "and second, where do you even get the weed? if you buy the legal stuff from new york or massachusetts, you're not bringin' it to my house."

"i wouldn't dream of it," you affirmed. "i only smoke authentic philly weed. don't worry about it; i got a guy."

---

that friday night, you showed up on melissa's doorstep wearing a casual t-shirt dress, with a tote bag full of goodies slung over your shoulder. jacob was the one to answer the door.

"hey! come on in, melissa's making pizza," he said cheerfully, a bit jittery with anticipation.

you followed jacob inside and found melissa leaning over the kitchen island, smiling fondly at you. she was wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting striped shirt, with her hair loose and a bit messy from cooking. she looked radiant and comfortable.

"you know, the pizza will taste better if we smoke before dinner," you proposed.

"bold of you to assume my pizza could taste any better," melissa joked back.

"i'm game," jacob said. "i want the full marijuana experience."

"in that case, help me set up," you said to the history teacher. "i want you to see how everything works."

you laid the contents of your tote bag out on the island countertop: a ziploc baggie full of flower, a little purple grinder, a holographic pink bowl, and a yellow lighter with white flowers on it.

"jacob, this is a grinder," you said, uncapping the grinder and opening the ziploc bag. "we're gonna use it to break up the flower into little pieces."

"oh wow, that is... pungent," jacob remarked. he watched as you ground up the weed, then handed the pink glass bowl to him.

"and this is a bowl, or a pipe if you're lame," you said. "you wanna do the honors?"

jacob grinned and reached into the grinder, bouncing excitedly on his heels. you put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. he filled the bowl, looking to you for approval several times while he did it.

"awesome, we're ready," you said. melissa placed her pizza in the oven and joined the circle.

"let's take it out on the patio," melissa suggested.

she led you and jacob out to the patio, a small ledge overlooking the city with three chairs conveniently set up in a tight circle. it was 7pm and the sun had just begun its descent, casting philadelphia in an orange glow.

the three of you sat down. you held the bowl up to your lips and moved to light it, but melissa snatched the lighter from your hand. she leaned in and held the flame to the bowl, her face inches from yours. you tried to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than her painted lips or her vivid green eyes dancing all over you.

you took a long inhale of the smoke and blew it up toward the sky. melissa plucked the bowl out of your hand and took a hit. she held the smoke in her lungs for an impressive amount of time for someone who didn't smoke regularly. she passed the still-lit bowl to jacob.

as soon as jacob took his hit, you knew it was gonna hurt. he overestimated his own lung capacity, and he didn't even finish blowing the smoke out before he was coughing.

"happens to everybody, pal," melissa patted jacob's back to ease his pain.

"ugh!" jacob sputtered between coughs. "why didn't you guys tell me smoking hurts?"

---

several rotations later, the three of you were high. well, you and melissa were high; jacob was outright fried. not altogether unexpected, but funny as hell.

when melissa's pizza was done, you all resolved to eat outside so you could watch the sunset together.

"this is heavenly, mel," you moaned after a delicious bite of the pizza.

"ha!" jacob exclaimed, and you and melissa turned to him, confused. meeting melissa's gaze, he threw his arms up in the air—like he expected her to understand what he meant by that one noise. "she stole two syllables from your name. you can't just take syllables, y/n. they're not yours."

"since when do you care about private property rights?" you quipped back before turning your attention to melissa. "i'm serious though. this pizza is sooo good. like last-meal-on-death-row good."

"keep talkin' sweet like that, and you can call me whatever you want," melissa replied with a wink, sending a flood of warmth to your face.

"what were we talking about? just now?" jacob chimed in, his eyes wide and darting every which way.

"... i actually don't know," you said with a giggle. you tried to remember, you really did. but you could feel melissa's eyes on you, and you heard her words echoing in your head. and it was hard to focus on anything else.

"short term memory loss! add that to the list of things you guys didn't warn me about," jacob scoffed.

"jacob, eat your damn pizza," melissa cut in. a peaceful smile graced her lips as she stared out at the city skyline, now a twilight blue in the absence of the sun. "i've missed this feeling, everythin' all fuzzy and light. how are you holding up, lovebug?"

your heart fluttered at the endearing name. melissa, it seemed, wore her heart on her sleeve when she was high—judging by the adoring way she gazed at you while she awaited your response. maybe the weed was messing with your head, but you swore she'd never looked so beautiful.

her eyes lacked any trace of the fire you were used to seeing (though they were quite red). for once, she wasn't on guard. her plump lips curled around her wine glass as she took a sip of merlot, vocalizing her sensual appreciation with a hum.

her long auburn hair was tucked behind her ears, resting on her shoulders in loose waves instead of her preferred meticulous curls. you wanted to run your fingers through her locks, feel their softness and smell her shampoo.

entranced by the redhead, you forgot she had asked you a question. melissa tapped your knee in reminder.

"i feel perfect," was your soft reply. you were beaming brightly before the sentence even finished. rather than sitting in a chair, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. the colors of melissa's patio and the sky blended together in a beautiful, swirling mosaic. the sounds of the city were clear and pleasant as philly wound down for the night. "i'm so happy."

"glad to hear it, sunshine. but i'm pretty sure jacob is asleep," melissa chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. he didn't stir, remaining slumped and conked out in his chair. "he's been losin' sleep over the kid who got suspended. bending over backwards trying to keep 'em on track."

"oh gosh," you said sympathetically before patting jacob a bit more firmly than melissa had. "jacob, hey. c'mon, it's time for bed. get up, go get cozy."

your words were slurred and hushed, but they seemed to pierce the veil of jacob's slumber as he awoke with a start.

melissa stood behind jacob's chair, gently rocking it back and forth to bring him back to the conscious world.

"can't go to bed, we just started," jacob grumbled, but his eyes were still closed. he was dangerously close to falling asleep again.

"from the looks of it, you're either gonna spend the night sleepin' in this chair or in your bed, so get up," melissa said resolutely.

"yeah, and besides, there's always next time," you assured jacob as he stretched and groaned his way into an upright position. you made eye contact with melissa, and this time you winked.

---

after helping jacob into bed (his motor skills really deteriorated when he got high) and smoking another bowl together, you and melissa were ready to continue your night.

"alright, sweetheart, it's down to you and me," melissa said, sitting down next to you on the couch. "what do you wanna do?" you pondered the question, looking around the room for inspiration.

"oh my god, you have a nintendo switch?" you asked excitedly, gesturing to the black tablet plugged in next to the cable box.

"that's jacob's. he showed me one of the games on there—animal crossing, i think it was. i don't get it. why play a game if you can't win?"

"alright, i know what we have to do now," you said, walking over to jacob's game cabinet and pulling out mario kart 8. holding the case up for melissa to see, you grinned. "four races. whoever wins gets whatever she wants from the other."

you were distantly aware of the implications, but you were too high to reconsider what you'd proposed.

you figured melissa would want something from your thoroughly decorated classroom if she won. if you won, you'd ask her to make you a custom pizza.

"you have no idea what you just started, hon," melissa said with a confident smirk.

"may the best woman win."

---

how the hell was she so good at everything?

melissa had needed some time to warm up to the switch controls, complaining about how the little red rectangle was too small to hold comfortably. but she was a quick learner with skilled fingers, and soon she was absolutely demolishing you.

it also didn't help that your coordination escaped you when you were high. you had driven off of too many ledges to count.

"two wins in a row for luigi," melissa bragged as she crossed the finish line of the third race. "hope you're ready to give me whatever i want, princess. don't think i forgot about our bet."

"daisy won the first race," you pointed out calmly. "i can still bring it back. but you know what this last race has to be?"

"what?"

"rainbow road. it's the perfect final showdown course," you explained, navigating to the course with your controller.

"get ready to be mine for a night," melissa said lowly. god, you knew she was talking about the bet, but she knew damn well what she was doing. by this point your panties were almost uncomfortably wet.

you leaned into her unconsciously as the race countdown began. you both held your controllers tight, almost shoulder to shoulder.

3...

2... (you push down the gas pedal button)

1...

GO!!!

daisy took off with a boost of speed thanks to your timing. luigi had a false start as his engine blew out. you cheered, and melissa cursed.

"how the fuck do you do that?" she asked, exasperated.

"play the game!" you demanded without looking away from the screen.

the competition was intense. you and melissa weaved around curves, nearly fell off the road, passed and bumped each other. neither one of you spoke until lap 3.

coming up on one of the last turns of the last lap, your hands jerked and you swerved. reacting on instinct, you bent your arms dramatically in the other direction to overcorrect.

melissa's arm bumped into yours, sending your controller flying out of your hands.

"hey!" you said, thinking she was cheating.

"hey yourself," she said, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

if she was gonna play dirty, so were you. you thrust your arm forward to grab her controller. but she saw you coming from a mile away. effortlessly, she shifted the controller into her left hand alone and held it up and out of your reach.

desperately competitive (and stupid high), you launched yourself toward the controller. you'd stop at nothing to get even. before you could snatch it out of her grasp, though, your balance faltered. you fell out of your position and started to fall backwards off the couch.

melissa dropped the controller and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you back up before you could hurt yourself. there was only one problem with this heroic act.

you were in her lap now.

her hands remained clasped at the small of your back, and your balance shifted forward. you put your arms out for stability, and wrapped them around her neck.

"careful, don't hurt your pretty head," melissa cooed. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. she surged forward and pressed her lips to yours.

if sitting outside with her felt like floating, kissing her and feeling her body against yours felt like riding the ocean waves. but unlike the atlantic, she was warm. you relaxed into her warmth as her tongue licked into your mouth.

you felt her tongue everywhere. in response to her, you gave a few tentative kitten licks. she moaned, she moaned, and pulled back before giving you one last kiss on the lips.

she stared at you with heated eyes for a while before switching her focus to the tv.

"look, baby," she said smugly while gesturing to the tv screen, where luigi was driving victory laps after placing first on rainbow road. "i won. you remember what that means?"

it was a fair question, considering how many conversations you forgot happened tonight. still, you nodded shyly and bit your lip.

"smart girl," melissa praised. "can you guess what i want from you?"

you shook your head no with a frown. melissa beamed and kissed you on the forehead. then she leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"i wanna touch you everywhere. i wanna hear your pretty voice moan my name and see your face scrunch up when you come. i want you to feel me all over you, and i want you to spend the rest of your life craving that feeling," melissa said her piece all at once, as if revealing a long-buried secret to you and herself.

you swallowed.

"would you let me do that?"

you nodded, pressing your forehead against hers.

"i need to hear you say it," she said softly, so softly you almost missed it.

"i want you, melissa. i have since the day we met."

that was all the confirmation melissa needed to attack your face and neck with kisses.

"sorry, let me just," melissa said as she pulled away abruptly and reached for the tv remote. she changed it to cable mode and navigated to the jazz music channel. "there we go, perfect."

"you're ridiculous," you giggled upon seeing melissa's proud face.

"honey," she leaned in to nip at your ear before whispering, "watch your mouth. you wanna be on my good side tonight, trust me."

you shuddered and wiggled in her lap, aching for her touch. a slow grin spread across her face and her hands found your legs, running up your thighs and lightly dragging her nails along your skin. they soon made their way up your waist to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. melissa even took two fingernails and circled your nipples teasingly, to which you squeaked.

"do you know how many times i thought about havin' you like this?" melissa whispered. her voice was sweet like molasses and flowed right through you. you could feel your nipples tingling where her fingers had been, swimming in a bubble of desire. "in my lap, all whiny and squirmy."

she pinched your nipple and you keened. you held your breath as her hands once again traveled to your thighs, making a beeline for your core.

"and now i got my angel in my arms," she said, gently spreading your legs for better access. you sucked in a breath and trembled when her palm caressed you through your panties. "but i gotta say, even in my imagination you were never this wet for me."

she punctuated the sentence by pressing her pointer finger on your clit through the fabric, drawing tiny circles. you gasped and hid your face in her neck. the high made every touch feel like it rippled through your whole body. the world felt like it had been knocked off its axis, and melissa was your new center of gravity.

"aw, don't be embarrassed, babygirl. it's cute you're so sensitive," melissa soothed, easing you out of the crook of her neck to face her again. she trailed her fingers down to swirl around your wetness under your panties. "let me take care of you, yeah?"

---

a few minutes later, you were spread out on melissa's bed, naked save for your (now useless) panties. she'd practically carried you to her room as you were baked and horny and unable to walk straight.

in spite of your writhing and needy whines, the redhead took her time to savor you. she kissed every inch of your torso before she even considered taking your panties off, mumbling sweet nothings between love bites.

when she finally pulled away to admire her work, the view did not disappoint. you were panting and covered in melissa's marks, and god, you were her favorite piece of art ever created. all hers.

"alright, sweet girl, i know," she cooed as you continued to plead for her touch with your best pout and puppy eyes. unable to resist you, melissa hooked two fingers in the waistband of your panties. "i'm gonna slip these off ya, okay? there, down they go."

melissa discreetly tucked the saturated material into her pocket. not as a trophy or proof of her conquest; rather, a token from the first of many magical nights with her girl. she would treasure it.

she wasted no time getting situated between your legs so she was face-to-face with your pussy. she inhaled deeply, basking in the heady aroma of your arousal. you overwhelmed her senses. everything she saw, everything she smelled, everything she felt, everything she thought—it was all one big, bottomless pool of you. and there was only one sense left for you to conquer.

the first drag of her tongue up your slit set you ablaze, flames licking from your core all the way to your extremities and your head. she let out a small noise of appreciation, and you felt it more than you heard it.

"you taste like fuckin' heaven," melissa rumbled between determined licks through your folds. her comment reminded you of the pizza, and you found yourself amused at how much things had changed in just a few hours.

"last-meal-on-death-row good?" you joked, and melissa seized the moment of levity to latch onto your clit. you cried out before remembering jacob was sleeping in the next room. you clapped a hand over your mouth.

"mhmmmmm," she moaned in agreement, and the vibrations on your bundle felt incredible. "but if you're still crackin' jokes, i'm not doin' my job."

with that, she shut you up completely. her tongue poked at your clit between harsh sucks. your back arched and melissa changed her strategy, prodding at your entrance with her tongue while her fingers took over on your clit. when her tongue penetrated you, you bit down on your hand to keep from screaming.

"i said i wanna hear you, remember?" melissa pulled out to chastise you.

"but jacob—" you managed.

"is passed out. he's dead to the world. now sing for me, angel," melissa's tongue dove back into your weeping cunt and lapped at your walls. you wailed her name.

"oh, mel, right—ahhh—there!" you mewled as her tongue teased your most sensitive spot. now that she'd located her target, melissa changed her play once again. two fingers replaced her tongue and crooked into your g-spot while her mouth returned to your clit. "close..."

melissa nodded her permission, her mouth busy with your button. with another hard roll of your clit between her lips and drive of her fingers into your sweet spot, you fell apart. you moaned and cried unbidden as she worked you through your orgasm, which felt twice as powerful thanks to the intoxication factor. your body shook in the grip of seemingly endless waves of heat.

your climax eventually died down and you squirmed away from melissa's touch. your mouth opened in dismay when instead of staying by your side, she stood up and disappeared into her closet.

after a short while, the older woman reappeared by your side. she was now nude and sporting a long, girthy strap-on. she placed a few other items on the nightstand, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the thick faux cock. unless it was to look at her gorgeous tits, which swung with her every move. she was a goddess.

"okay, sweets, i'm gonna spell this out nice and slow because i know your brain is a little messy right now," she said as she crawled on top of you. "i'm gonna fuck you with my strap. and i know it's so big, but i have this to help you take it."

melissa reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a green mini wand vibrator. her intentions were clear, and you gulped. the redhead peppered kisses all over your face in reassurance.

"now relax, little love. let me in," melissa instructed as the wand buzzed to life. she smeared your wetness around your clit with her fingers, then pulled back its hood to position the vibrator tightly against your nub. even the lowest setting was a shock at such a direct angle.

while you were distracted trying to adjust to the clitoral stimulation, melissa aligned the tip of the dildo with your entrance and pushed in. you both groaned, and you felt yourself stretch around the toy. melissa turned up the vibrations on your clit as she progressed to being fully seated inside you.

"that's a good girl, so brave," melissa cooed. you thrashed underneath her, the sensations overstimulating you. the pain of the intrusion staved off a powerful orgasm from the wand vibrator.

again, you wondered if the drugs were messing with your mind—the dildo felt indistinguishable from a part of mel's body, and you were full to the brim of her.

as she began to rock her hips back and forth, you saw her bite her lip. you assumed that the strap had some kind of clit attachment for her based on the telltale signs of pleasure.

melissa built up a steady rhythm and drank in your pathetic sounds of pleasure. her tits swung in your face with every thrust, and you made a mental note to give them proper attention next time. with another tactical increase to the wand's speed, you felt yourself approaching the edge once more.

"you gettin' close? yeah, i can tell. feels too good to hide it, huh bunny?" that was a new one. you clenched at her words and she set the wand to its maximum power, rubbing it up and down on your clit. your vision went white and you spun out of reality as you came. "that's my girl. good little princess, coming so hard for me."

with a few more thrusts, melissa also came to a release. she shuddered and shimmied her hips at random while she rode it out. as soon as she recovered, she turned off the green wand and relieved you. next, she eased herself out of and off of you.

with a chaste peck to your lips, she sat upright and reached for the nightstand. she smiled at your fucked-out expression as she laid out the pajamas she'd picked out for you.

you watched in awe as she took off the strap and put on her own sleep clothes. her red hair was wild from the night's activities and glowed like a warm hearth against the white backdrop of her walls.

in your state, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with melissa and fall asleep. but she insisted that you get ready for bed so that you'd be comfortable through the night. she guided you into the bathroom and gave you a new toothbrush to use.

returning to the bedroom, you found a silky green nightgown with flowers on it waiting on the bed for you. given your exhausted and intoxicated state, melissa had to help you into it. neither of you minded. as a reward for your cooperation, she gave you a kiss.

the two of you snuggled into bed, tucked in together with you curled up against her chest. the tides of slumber lapped at your feet.

"g'night, lovebug," melissa whispered as you drifted off. "sleep well. see you in the morning."

and tomorrow would be the first of a lifetime of tomorrows waking up in her arms.

[pippin-katz]

The Awardist - Nicholas Galitzine & Taylor Zakhar Perez

I have to write down the best bits and record my thoughts while listening to this because I am completely losing my mind over what is our first real interview with the boys that was recorded in real time.

27:55 - right off the bat we got a great inside joke/reference from the host that had me cackle

28:19 - taylor being happy to see their faces and nicholas immediately shutting him down like "well i'm not happy to see taylor's face"

28:40 - taylor joking about putting a post-in note over nick's face lmfao

29:30 - the way they don't want to talk over each other, it's giving alex's bedroom flashbacks

29:40 - nick being like "oh! oh, it's good!" when dipping into the online response when the movie released lmfao 😆

30:33 - the silence following the social media question where they were apparently nodding followed by taylor saying they were texting each other like "mate" "mate" back and forth

31:20 - THEY TALKED ABOUT THE SIGNING WARS

31:44 - nicholas calling taylor "this little fucker" had me dying cause me and @meraki-yao were literally referring to him as that in our conversation on ig yesterday

32:00 - nicholas genuinely asking taylor "what possessed you to do this?"; it's giving storage closet in the children's hospital vibes when henry's like "why do you dislike me?"

33:04 - "take it nick" immediately upon being asked the dense question regarding fans reacting to their portrayals of henry and alex, and the way that nicholas laughs and stutters makes me think that taylor totally did that on purpose to mess with him lmfao

34:00 - taylor stopping to talk to fans regardless of where he is or where he's going and specfically mentioning how meaningful it was that people have said *TW* they were contemplating suicide when they read the book/watched the movie and that it helped them 🥺

35:40 - the host referred to the film as "a coming out story", which i don't really agree with as a label because the coming out portion is an added piece of their relationship as two public figures, but their love is the actual story

36:40 - nicholas referring to the film as "wholesome and funny" made me smile so much because it truly is wholesome

37:18 - not the host making the "top to bottom" joke 😭

37:58 - nicholas and taylor have talked about their friendship with each other and how they instantly clicked; nick knew within a few minutes of rehearsal that taylor was "his buddy" 🥺

38:41 - catch me squaring up with everyone who has made nicholas self conscious and self deprecating about doing so much intimacy work on the screen that he refers to it as "basically his thing" like that's all he's recognized for; i am so ready to punch some motherfuckers 😡

39:10 - "it's so fun now, seeing my mate at all these awards and stuff"; catch me fucking crying

39:24 - not taylor misremembering the "nicholas or joey" question as "who was the better kisser"; he totally combined the "is nicholas a good kisser" question with the "who has your heart tonight" question

40:05 - taylor talking about matthew's background in theatre and how they got to actually rehearse with each other; i will never stop being insanely grateful that matthew is a theatre guy

40:55 - the way i said "oh my god" out loud because i was so excited by the question

41:14 - improvised the "physicality" of the store room; i.e. they just fell on top of each other and clamored around 😂

41:32 - the way i literally gasped so hard that i started coughing when nicholas called taylor "tay", i am not even fucking joking, that was so fucking cute 😭

43:42 - fucking wheezed upon realizing where the question going

44:02 - the knowing way taylor was like "i will take this one" lmfao

45:10 - not me going so red from second hand embarrassment 🫣

45:44 - taylor bringing the jockstrap that nicholas wears in bottoms, and nicholas immediately adding "i won't even go into mary & george" 😂

47:51 - taylor finishing nicholas' sentence about matthew's direction for the cake scene; sharing a braincell lol

48:36 - taylor's dog passed away the night of the first day of filming like wow, that fucking sucks 🥺😭

49:05 - "everyone's looking at me with these sad eyes" made me so sad but then taylor said "do you want some tea?" in a terrible british accent lmfao

49:50 - nicholas complimenting and boosting taylor's performance while having such a hard time emotionally 🥺

50:49 - taylor bringing up running through the museum; i can hear the smile in his voice while talking about it 😭

51:28 - they filmed the kensington palace fight and the red room the week after nicholas got covid

52:40 - oh my god, the way you can hear nick grinning as he throws taylor under the bus for the sequel question 😂

53:30 - taylor wants a second book to base the sequel off of

54:03 - taylor used they/them pronouns for casey!! see? he knows, it was totally nerves

55:20 - it felt like it was over too soon, i desperately need more of them PLEASE 😭

This is the greatest thing that's happened in like, a month for me lmfao I am literally begging for more people to interview the boys about RWRB, I am so fucking desperate for more content of the two of them together. They are everything to me 🥺

Thanks for reading!! If you enjoyed this essay & would like to support me, you can give me a tip on my Ko-Fi! ☺️

[talkbycolor]

jester-shaped fucktoy

A/N; have you ever had sex with a clown? It sounds like honk honk with every thrust

Pairing; "Damon" x AFAB!Reader (im starting to consider to make the reader no tits, no pussy, no dick, just a barbie doll with a hole man)

CW; this is a little gross ngl, just sweaty sex / unprotected sex, semi-public sex, creampie, just like the hentais teached me / rough sex, heavy overstim, fucking like animals just like the song / circus scenario, porn without plot / this is just smut but hey, dont be shy and request something / this counts as an AU?

You were never the main attraction of the show, a jester whose only function was to demonstrate clumsiness in presentations, a cute clown.

So how did you end up spread-eagled in your dressing room?

There was a man in reddish clothes thrusting into your fat pussy, you didn't even know his name, you had barely finished the show that night when he showed up at the door of your trailer proclaiming to be a big fan.

"AH SHIT! FUCK! RIGHT THERE!" You moaned as your trembling hands tried to hold onto his shoulders, you screamed so loudly that your circus buddies could probably hear you from their trailers, the guy was huge compared to you, he grunted and howled every time his thick penis wedged itself between the folds of your abused Damn, it was like having sex with a wolf instead of the adorable fan who had sheepishly introduced himself a couple of minutes ago.

Because you had just had a performance, you were so sweaty and having sex right now only made it worse, you were melting in his arms as he fucked you against the dresser in your dressing room, practically dripping as your clown makeup ran down your cheeks, combined with sweat and pleasurable tears from being fucked so well.

"P-Please, PLEASE! I'M GOING TO PISS!" You whimpered, your body reacting on its own, saliva dripping down your chin as you begged him to slow down, your ass ached from the clash of skin and your peach was as red as your lipstick.

"Hey, is everything okay in there?" Someone knocked on the door of the trailer, which shook a little from the intense movement of the event that was happening inside. The stranger with fangs only growled when he heard a new voice wanting to interrupt the fun.

"Everything's fine! t-everything is perfect, give me a second!" You warned, putting all your effort and self-control into ensuring that your words didn't come out like the desperate screams of a whore who was being fucked at that moment.

The person outside the dressing room had probably understood the situation long before hearing you so no one else asked again.

Making out wildly with a fan inside your trailer while he put his penis in your hole was not something you had in mind due to the hectic life you had.

But hell, it wasn't something you turned down either.

Not long after, you choked a scream in his throat as you reached your orgasm, feeling like you were choking on the stranger's tongue, your breathing was erratic and your body was shaking violently, you had already come but he didn't stop, moving his hips like a dog. wanting to knot and fill you completely.

"You'd look so adorable swollen with my seed, you wouldn't mind me inseminating you, right?" He spoke between grunts, they weren't even coordinated thrusts anymore, his voice sounded so agitated as he panted like a dog in search of his orgasm.

"This fucking pussy is all mine, I'm going to fill you so many times that you won't be able to appear in any performance for a whole week, you'll spend those days getting out all the semen that I'm going to put in you" He said as he gently chewed your ear, his tongue going shamelessly on your sweaty skin, biting your neck until leaving several marks in shades of carmine and violet.

At that point he was just desperately licking every drop of sweat from your body, he was also dripping and not just semen, the splash between skin was a combination of precum and sweat, and the entire trailer smelled of sex.

"But how easy, you offer your ass to every fan who talks to you?" That sounded a little more threatening, like he was genuinely angry and the thought of you being with others was enough to make him furious.

So furious that he grabbed your hips until he left violent marks.

"F-FUCK! P-PLEASE! I HAVE NOT BEEN WITH ANYONE, ONLY WITH YOU!" You moaned between whimpers at the delicious pain, now he moved with more force, you could almost swear that you felt the head of his penis making an effort to enter your cervix.

Overexertion made you a stupid whore, you had urinated yourself even when he was pounding into you, isn't that pathetic? You were drooling shamelessly and your head was ringing as you didn't even recognize what was happening, you just knew that he felt too good despite having your cunt numb from the amount of stimulation he was receiving.

Grinding his hips against your entrance finally brought about his orgasm, cumming in large quantities until your belly looked a little more swollen, proud of that work he spread your legs in a perfect split, you were quite flexible after all.

As for you? A trembling doll that only let out pathetic gasps and his head was too screwed to be able to say coherent words, you even laughed softly.

The guy brought his forehead together with yours and kissed your lips, your lipstick was already a disaster so you returned the kiss more than gladly.

"I'm Damon, and I was serious about being a big fan…can we go on a date?"

He introduced himself even though you probably couldn't even figure out what was going on, you could only whimper with a satisfied smile.

"I… sure" You smiled exhausted.

♡

[hazbinshusk]

38 with my guy husk ??? ifn ya dont maan’ (mind)

combined with a request for husk dealing with a partner who will pick a fight with anyone if they're being sexist because the imagery was just too fun to pass up.

prompt #38: a kiss while one party is carried.

“Hey! Asshole!”

Husk sighs, setting his glass on the bar and closes his eyes. He knows that tone of voice. And while it’s all kinds of amusing to hear it within the walls and relative safety of the hotel, out here…

He throws back the rest of his drink in a well-practiced gulp without savoring the familiar burn in his throat or the slight notes of honey that had made that particular whiskey so appealing from its place on the shelf. He returns the glass to the bar and pulls a couple of bills out of his pocket and tosses them down beside it, giving the bartender a quick little salute by way of a goodbye. The bartender – a no-nonsense imp by the name of Allen – just nods in response, swipes up the cash and carries on, ignoring the potential fight brewing on the other side of the bar.

Husk groans quietly as he stretches his neck to the side until he feels a soft pop, rolling his aching shoulders out for a moment. He has about three minutes before—

“You sexist fucking troglodyte!”

Or maybe just the one.

He finds you on the other end of the bar, squaring up with some kind of warthog-faced sinner who had at least two feet and easily a hundred pounds on you. You don’t seem to have noticed, based on the fury burning in your eyes and the confrontational tension in your body. You would have been nose to nose with the guy if it weren’t for the height difference, and you jabbed a finger towards a nearby waitress. From the way the sweet-looking rabbit sinner was clutching her serving tray to her chest with one arm and repeatedly trying to tug her skirt lower on her thighs with the other, Husk could easily guess just what you were so worked up about.

“Apologize to her!”

The warthog snorted, leaning down and – Husk bristled, his teeth grinding together with a low growl as the demon sniffed you lasciviously. The sinner chuckled, eyes falling to your chest before returning mockingly to your face.

“Tell you what,” he grunted. “I’ll apologize to the little tease. If you beg me for it.”

“Why, you—”

“Bet you look fucking hot on your knees, don’t you, bitch?”

Husk catches you around the middle just as you ball up your fist and made to swing at the sinner’s snout, hauling you up over his shoulder. Your fist misses and the sinner guffaws obnoxiously as you’re pulled away, slapping a nearby buddy on the shoulder.

“What the—Husk!” you shout, shocked and belligerent, trying to squirm out of his grip. But he’s got an arm wrapped firmly around your waist as the other around your thighs and you’re stuck. “Put me down!”

Husk doesn’t respond, catching the eyes of the other residents who had joined you tonight on his way out the door. You’re vaguely aware of the sound of Angel cackling at the view of you thrown over the bartender’s shoulder, red in the face and pissed, and you flip him off on your way out. The spider demon only laughs louder.

“Husk!” you snarl, still wriggling as he leaves the bar and you’re suddenly surrounded by the familiar sounds of Pride. You shove your knees against him in another attempt to dislodge yourself from his grip but the cat just tightens his arm around you with a grumble you don’t quite catch. You know you could force him to let you go, but even as annoyed as you are, you can’t bring yourself to yank at his feathers or fur in a way he’d hate. “Fucking damn it, Husk! Let me go!”

He sighs as he finally does as you ask, setting you down in the mouth of an alleyway beside the bar you’d just been dragged from. He meets your eye calmly, apparently unaffected by your glower. Still, there’s a touch of exasperation in his gaze.

“Thank you!”

Husk rolls his eyes as you immediately make move to turn and head back into the bar, catching hold of your wrist. When you try to wrest yourself from his grasp, he sighs again, bending down and scooping your up into his arms. “Don’t even think about it, doll.”

You fold your arms petulantly, too mad to even allow yourself to be impressed once again with how easily he can lift you. “He needs an ass-kicking.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Husk says plainly, his claws rubbing gently in what you know is supposed to be a soothing back-and-forth against your thigh from where his arm is hooked under your knees. “But you ain’t gonna be the one dealin’ it out.”

“Why the fuck not?”

The corner of Husk’s mouth turns up in a soft smirk, one born of affection and patience rather than derision. “Because he’s twice your size and was braggin’ to the bartender earlier that he’s part of some kinda hit squad for the Vees or some shit.”

“So?”

He raises an eyebrow at you pointedly and just waits. Your pout deepens, and you sigh. You’ve been in Hell for a while now, but you’re not exactly topping any charts of power, in the Hotel or out of it. “Fine. But you’ve gotta let me fight some of my battles.”

“Promise, doll.” Husk smiles warmly, gratefully, and he tilts his head up to press a kiss to your forehead. His arms squeeze around you slightly. “It’s hot as hell watchin’ you get all worked up.”

Its your turn to roll your eyes, but you’re smiling as you unfold your arms from your chest and reach up to take his face in your hands. Your fingers slide through the soft fur of his cheeks and you pull him down into a kiss.

It’s a strange little tableau between the two of you, with you held in his arms like a new bride even as Husk is standing in the middle of an alleyway. Hell’s still burning around, the familiar chorus of breaking glass and cursing and explosions singing in your ears, but you can’t even register the oddity in the embrace. Not while Husk is kissing you so sweetly, so earnestly.

He presses another kiss between your brows when you part, and you wiggle slightly in his arms. “As totally hot as it is when you show off just how jacked you are—” Husk snorts a laugh. “—can you put me down now?”

Husk raises a brow, still smiling. “Depends… are you planning on finishing what you started?”

You sigh, but shake your head. “Cross my heart.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, kissing your temple as he sets you down again. You steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder, eyes on the door to the bar. You frown.

“Still think he should get his ass kicked.”

Husk hums a laugh, wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you out onto the street proper. There’s an almost mischievous smirk playing on his features. “Oh, sweetness. He’s getting what’s comin’ to him. Promise.”

Your brow creases in confusion. “Oh?”

Husk’s hand squeezes your hip just as the window ahead of you explodes into shards, and the warthog sinner crashes onto the pavement at your feet. He scrabbles to his feet, actual fear in his eyes, and takes off down the street before you can even react to what’s happened, tripping over his own feet.

“What the—?”

“I wasn’t the only one who noticed your little disagreement, dol.” Husk chuckles. “You really think Vaggie was gonna let that shit slide?”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

[billthedrake]

SUGAR DADDY (PART TWO)

The next day I was a little bit of a wreck. Still coming down from the high of my fantasy time with Mike Keenan. Sucking his cock. Kissing him. Enjoying the privacy and the deep conversation. I thought of texting him but decided that wouldn't be welcome. It hadn't been a date, it had ust been something that had happened. A combination of Mike taking pity on me and wanting to get his rocks off. We both got something out of it, but it was surely a one-time thing.

I had class that next morning and baseball practice that afternoon, then weightlifting. It was early evening when I got done and saw I had a text from Mike.

"Hi Luke, sorry no contact, I had a long day here. Enjoyed last night. Any chance for a repeat some time?"

My heart pounded. Maybe I was the one overthinking things. Mr. Keenan just wanted his cock sucked again.

"I'd love that," I wrote.

"Nice," came the reply. "You around to talk?"

I said good night to my buddies and told them I had to get back to study for a test. Then I texted a "yes" to Mike. A second later my phone rang.

"Hey," I said. God, I was majorly crushed out on the guy.

"Hey Luke," he said. His voice was sexy as fuck. "What are you up to?"

"Just getting out of practice. Bout to grab some dinner."

"I haven't eaten either. Want to come over? We can get dinner in the hotel bar."

"I probably need to change," I said. I was still in my workout clothes.

"I bet you look sexy as fuck," he growled. It was a trip to hear him lust for another man. "But take your time."

"Yeah, I probably shouldn't go to some fancy bar in my gym clothes."

"They don't give a fuck," he said. "But do what you feel comfortable with."

"All right," I said. "I'll text you when I'm on my way."

"Take an Uber," he said. "I'll pay."

"OK." Then I hung up. I was going to object, but I was eager to see the man. And truth be told I was hungry, real hungry. Maybe that's what made me decided to head right over, underdressed as I was.

"OK, I'm getting in my Uber," I typed to him five minutes later.

He sent a smiley face reply.

The man was in his suit, without tie, on one of the bar stools and his eyes lit up as I walked in. He had a smirk as I set down my backpack and pulled out the adjacent stool to sit. "I was right," he said softly. "Sexy as fuck."

I blushed. "I didn't think you went for guys that way," I whispered.

His blue eyes twinkled some as he patted my back. "No labels, remember?"

I was getting hard in my shorts. Unfortunately the thin fabric wasn't going to hide my boner, but fortunately, it was hidden by the bar. And my hunger was going to win out.

"The steak here is great," the man said as he handed me a menu.

"I dunno," I said as I looked over the option. "A burger is fine." Of course I was concerned about the price.

Mr. K could read me, though. "Get the steak," he grunted.

I felt a little chastised and said something I instantly regretted. "Is that how the Sugar Daddy treatment works?"

Mike gave me a quick glance then replied without missing a beat. "Buddy, you don't eye me up like a cash machine like those girls do. You don't know how nice a change that is."

I blushed and I felt his hand pat my bare thigh.

"I like that I can be honest with you, Luke, for real." His bossy tone was gone, replaced with the old Mr. Keenan charm.

I gulped. "I like being honest with you, too," I said. Until Mr. Keenan re-entered my life six months prior, I hadn't realized how rare it was I could be honest about things. I gave him a smile and saw him smile in return.

"Since I'm being honest," I started, but just then the bartender came over to take our order.

"Two steaks," Mr. Keenan said, ordering for me. "And another scotch and..." he turned to me.

"An IPA?" I asked. The bartender nodded and named off some brewery. Sounded good. We watched as he poured our drinks in front of us and placed them on the bar before going off to ring up our order.

"So..." Mike picked up. "Since you're being honest..."

I lowered my voice. "It's like I said before. You don't need to pay for anything, Mike. Or be a sugar daddy or anything."

He grinned. "There's always trade offs," he said. "And maybe I enjoy the control."

"Control?" I asked dumbly.

"If you're paying, you get your say in a lot of things," he said. He paused and watched me blush. "You think less of me."

"Honesty, right? You don't know how crushed out I am on you."

He smiled. "I have an idea. It's flattering." He took a sip of his scotch and looked over at me like a wolf eyeing up his prey. "I'm hoping you stay over tonight."

I was in over my head. Emotionally, but also with a man like Keenan. Decisive. "If you want, I will," I said.

"Good," he said, satisfied.

***

Mike Keenan surprised me that evening. After we ate and he paid the check, we went up to our room. We showered together, making out, feeling each other up. I was surprised how much this straight man was into my very male body and my cock. Well, he was probably bi and in any case had his no-labels motto. I was gonna embrace it.

Particularly as we made out on the bed, me beneath his middle aged, fit hairy body. I'd eventually find a real boyfriend, I knew, but I also knew it was going to be hard for any man to live up to hot how Mr. K was. His cock felt hard and even bigger as we humped our bodies together and kissed.

"So, Luke... you up for me being inside you?"

I nodded, hungrily. "God yeah, Mr. Keenan."

He grinned. "You have much experience?" That concern coming in.

"A couple of guys, yeah," I said. Then with deep candor, I added, "I wish you'd taken my cherry, Mike."

His voice got husky. "I've done anal a couple of times. With an ex-girlfriend."

His words made me actually break out into goosebumps. For some reason the idea of Mr. K doing some woman in the backdoor seemed kinky as fuck. But also the way he unmistakeably was communicating that he knew how to fuck me. "You liked it, I bet," I said with a lusty smile.

He nodded and winked just as he leaned up and knelt on the bed. His hardon looked magnificent, the thickness perfectly framed by his hairy, DILF-y body. I decided then and there I'd have a hard time sleeping with a man under 40. "Oh, yeah, buddy," he said. Then my body shivered again as I watched the confidence with which he picked up the lube he'd set out next to the bed. As he returned his focus, I pulled back my legs and spread them some, letting his slick hand in to lube up my hole. "It's probably my favorite thing. Hard to talk a woman into it, though."

"I can imagine," I hissed, enjoying the cool contact of the lubed finger on my ring. "I bet that costs extra huh?" Maybe that sounded accusatory, but from my tone it was clear that it was a joke, and Mr. Keenan picked up on that.

He laughed. "I don't hire hookers, but don't think I haven't thought about it." His cock jerked, and I was relieved that being with a dude seemed to work for him as much as fucking a chick.

He pressed in and worked me open some. "That feel OK, buddy?"

I looked at him excitedly and nodded. I kept expecting resistance as the man fingered me but there was none. At all. "Feels amazing Mr. K." My longtime nickname for him just slipped off my tongue, but the man seemed excited to hear it. His cock actually jerked.

He now slipped in a third finger, twisting me open and working in and out. "You're ready," he said, though I knew there was a questioning behind his assured tone.

"Yes, sir," I hissed.

Mike was horny, too, I realized as he scooted in to place and nudged his meaty cock right into place. I don't know the approach he took with women, but he angled his finger to let his prick push in just as he withdrew his hand. Kind of a shoehorn move that slid his meaty cock right into me. Three solid inches inside me in one go.

"There ya go," he said with satisfaction. Then he moved forward, his hips driving more meat into me, as he leaned his upper body forward. I was getting well and truly penetrated.

The thing was, my insides were starting their natural resistance, my guts clenching down on the invader and trying to repel it. Mr. Keenan mistook my discomfort for a natural stimulation of an ass on his cock. "That's goddamn nice, buddy," he hissed and like that he was kissing me, hard and possessively.

I met his tongue as well as I could, but there was something that clicked in me. I was a dude, a masculine dude. I didn't like to think of myself as feminine, and I got offended by the way people would associate gay sex with being feminized. And yet, I was pinned down beneath Mike Keenan and all I could think was to compare myself to those college chicks Mike banged. My hole relaxed around him and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Not slutty or anything, but damn I needed and wanted a Mike Keenan fuck.

He must have sensed the change but in any case pulled back from the kiss. "I guess I didn't even ask about protection," he hissed, his hips slowly pumping me.

"This is perfect, Mr. K," I growled. His dick was rubbing right over my prostate, not punching the button, but playing it like a violin string. It was a surprisingly new sensation for me.

The man liked my answer. He pulled back, further back, and pushed all the way. Then again. Not rushing it, but definitely claiming me with this cock. All the while his blue eyes bore down on mine. "How do you normally like it, Luke?" he asked.

I racked my brain. It was actually hard to think with the man's cock pressing in and out. And I'd only had a few experiences bottoming. "Slow, I guess," I replied. But then as I felt up the man's naked torso and strong arms, I wanted more. "But this is weird to ask... but I'd like you to show me how I like it."

THAT turned Mike on like crazy. "Yeah?" His nostrils flared. "I can do that buddy."

He pulled back and I felt his prick punch into me. In retrospect it probably wasn't rough, but I'd never been fucked with that much force. Then another. Slow, steady, and hard.

The fact that it was Rich's dad doing this drove me wild. I looked up into his handsome face and imagined him rough fucking some sugar baby who'd have to work for her apartment money.

"Shit!" I gasped. My prick was dripping already, a telltale sign that I was about to cum. I gripped it, just in time to let the pleasure boil to a full orgasm, all while Mr. Keenan pounded it out of me.

His own face was scrunching into a clear sign of pleasure. The man was ejaculating into my guts, and good.

"Well, fuck me," he sighed as he lay his forehead against mine. We lay like that, my hands on him and my legs wrapped around him. His more mature, fit body resting on top of me as he caught his breath. "Please tell me you liked that buddy," he hissed.

I felt weirdly emotional. I don't know, it wasn't just the crush I had on Mr. K. It was the hormonal rush on top of the mind fuck of having had such hot sex. "A little too much," I admitted.

That made him smile.

He finally leaned up and slid out of me, and off me. His dick was thick and plump but softening, and very wet. He looked down on me with a mix of surprise, paternal-like affection, and pride in conquest. I loved it all, and it was then that I realized I was hooked on the Mike Keenan experience.

"I thought I was pushing my luck asking you to meet me again," he said as he stepped off the bed and down some water from a water bottle. His middle-aged muscle was covered in a sheen of sweat. The man was sexy as fuck. His eyes barely left my nakedness. "But I guess not," he continued.

I felt all sorts of weird, and more than a little cheap now that the endorphins were wearing off. I sat up in bed, my hole feeling used and wet now. "You really do like being on control, don't you, Mike?"

My words caught him by surprise. "I guess I come on strong, huh?"

"A little," I admitted. "I should probably go," I said as I searched for my briefs.

"Will it make you feel better to stay over?" he asked.

It was my turn to be surprised. "You think I'm like a chick?" I asked. I wasn't sure I was upset he was stereotyping me as a gay guy. Or upset because maybe he was right.

"It's just a question, Luke," he replied. "I'll give you Uber money."

I swallowed my pride. "I'd love to stay. Sorry I was giving you grief."

He smiled. "It's fine buddy. I'm used to game playing. But you're a straight shooter. I like that." Then matter of factly, he added, "I get up early."

"That's cool," I said.

****

I gave Mr. K a blowjob early the next morning. And he stroked me off. I guess I was leaning toward being a bottom before Mike Keenan, but I'd never embraced the label. What the fuck, the man was making me realize the shoe fit.

I was happy and content all day. I kind of wanted a text from Mr. K, but I didn't need one. Even being young and naive, I knew I had to take this for what it was, or not at all.

Around 5:30 I got a text. "Dinner?"

I had a late game and plans with my buddies. "I'm tied up, Mike," I wrote. "Sorry."

"What time you done?" came that reply.

"I don't know. 10?"

"Come over then. You know the room number."

Maybe it should have rubbed me the wrong way, but it didn't. I was horny for this man. So bad.

Only after I replied with an OK, I got a Venmo alert. Mr. K had sent me money. Not an exhorbitant amount. But a lot.

Oh shit.

***

I was nervous as Mike ushered me in. The worst part was how fucking handsome he looked, even in his readers and plush hotel bathrobe. He didn't look exactly sleepy, but he seemed in a relaxed, tired state as he looked me up and down.

"Thanks for coming, Luke," he said. That easygoing charm I remember from going over to his place when I was visiting my buddy Rich.

"Sure," I said. Looking around, I wondered what it was like to live in a hotel like this a few nights a week, always being on the road. I smelled Mr. Keenan's cologne before I felt his hand on my shoulder and his warm body press against my back. Already he was kissing softly at my neck.

"Listen, Mr. K... can we talk about the money thing?"

His voice had a throaty growl. Maybe he'd been thinking all evening, all day about sex, because he seemed to be in a horny mode. "Sure. Was it not enough?"

"No, Jesus," I hissed, feeling his fingers already running beneath the hem of my T-shirt tracking my abs. "I don't need anything. For real."

OK, now his fingers stopped their seductive movement. I guess the man was getting it. "You offended?" he asked.

I blushed. "I dunno," I replied. "It didn't make me feel great."

I felt his breath against my neck. "You deserve the money more than Kimberly," he said. "Or the others. It's just a little something, Luke. Use it to have fun. Or save it for a rainy day."

I don't know how Mike Keenan was so persuasive a man, but he was. Maybe because those fingers are once again tracing up my abs and pulling my shirt with them. "Come on, buddy, let me see that hot baseball jock body," he urged.

I went with it. I knew I was good looking, and even if I had some bulking goals for the off season, I knew I had a solid body. But the fact Mr. Keenan was into it had me so turned on. I turned around to see a smile on his five-o-clock-shadowed face.

"Nice," he said, eyes sweeping up and down my build. "Lose the shorts, Luke," he said.

Mr. K had talked about enjoying being in control. I was now wrestling with the fact that I enjoyed being bossed around, at least by this man. I stepped back and undid my shorts, stripping down completely for him. I was rock hard.

My heart pounded as I watched Mike get a more serious look on his face, as his hands reached down to undo the tie on the robe. The white terry cloth flapped open to show off his furry fit torso and, beneath that, his thick boner. "Come on buddy," he said in a deep whisper, nodding down at his crotch in an unmistakable signal.

I gulped. I assumed my normal catcher's squat, a position which made my hard dick stick up at an angle.

"Fuck yeah," Mike said. He scooted up to offer me his prick. It was fat and veiny, and while not porn-long that dick was pretty damn big.

I leaned forward just an inch to start licking him. Top to bottom. Along his furry nuts. Tasting every inch of Mike Keenan. Maybe his relaxed vibe gave me the implicit permission to take my time.

Only by the time I actually began sucking him, working my mouth up and down on him and doing my best to coordinate suction and tongue along his shaft, the man was starting to get worked up.

"Easy there, buddy," he hissed, gently pushing me off his dick, which throbbed and jerked a little, wet with my saliva. "I almost blew there."

I grinned. I felt so fucking proud. I didn't have a ton of sexual experience and it was good to know I was doing something right to get Mike so close so soon. "Why don't you?" I asked, sitting back on my haunches and looking up at him. I was getting more confident in having sex with this older man.

He let out a heavy sigh, like he was fighting off the urge to do just that. A smile crossed his lips, though. "Guess I'm like a kid with a new toy," he explained.

It took me a second to get it. "You wanna fuck me again." Half statement, half question.

Mike nodded. "Been thinking about it all fucking day, man. Your ass is so fucking tight."

I knew this was a possibility, and I wondered if I should be giving my hole some rest. But I also knew it was going to be hard to turn down a Mr. Keenan fuck. I stood up, my dick riding that crest between pure excited hardness and nervous flagging.

"Ok if we kiss a little, Mike?" I asked feeling almost embarrassed to ask. "You know, make out a little?"

My buddy's dad nodded and grinned as he stepped up to me, placing his hands on my waist. "I guess I can come on strong, huh?" he asked.

God, feeling his dick press against mine and the heat and the soft-hard combo of fur and muscle against me was going to drive me wild. "Some, yeah," I admitted with a laugh. Then blushing, I added, "Part of me really likes it, but fuck it's intimidating too, you know?"

Mike didn't reply but just gave a sympathetic nod and leaned in for a soft kiss. We made out some, and it was incredible to feel the contrast between the gentle approach kissing and the mauling of his hands on my jock body, particularly my butt. Mr. K wasn't kidding about having a new toy. He seemed to really love my ass.

He walked me back to the bed and I went back down on the mattress with a motion of his that was between guiding and pushing. He quickly lost his bathrobe and joined me, covering my body with his older, more experienced one, feeling me up and kissing along my neck, my ear, my upper chest. Mike was in full-on horny mode and bring me there right with him.

Finally he lifted off and rolled to the side. His erection was dripping and rock hard and looked amazing against all that body hair. "All right buddy, get on all fours."

I was primed for Mike Keenan in full on control mode. I scrambled to do as the man asked, facing the headboard and feeling the man settle in behind me. Already his hands were cupping my glutes and feeling the smooth muscle.

"You got a hot fucking ass, Luke," he growled. He pawed at me another few seconds then reached for some lube. The first wet finger felt great, and went in pretty easy.

"You're looser today, buddy," Mike hissed. A second finger popped in.

"Yeah, probably," I responded. "After yesterday."

"I wanna keep you this way," came his deep voice. "Ready for me."

"Oh fuck, Mr. K," I whined. There was an edge to his tone that drove me wild. And as his prick pushed in, I felt a welcome pleasure, even with my residual tightness.

"Fuck yeah," Mike grunted as he felt my insides and pushed to bottom out. "Right back in the saddle."

His grip clenched roughly on my waist. Just as quickly as that thick cock pulled out, it barreled back in. And again. One hard thrust right after the other as Mr. K grunted deeply. "Ung. Ungh. Ung."

The man was fucking for his pleasure, not mine. Still I felt an excited thrill. I wouldn't say I enjoyed this nearly as much as the missionary mating the night before but it felt new to me. Animalistic and raw. I was hard even with the discomfort of the shafting.

Wham. Wham. Wham. That thick piece of hard dad meat was drilling steadily. Then the cadence went off. Mr. Keenan's rhythm was getting more spasmodic and jerky as he pounded me. Then I felt those fingers dig into my hips.

"FUCK!"

From his cry and the sudden stop of his thrusts, I knew the man was seeding me.

I loved every part of the experience, but I now regretted that I hadn't gotten off. The fuck had been too hard and too quick.

Thankfully I felt the man shift behind me and, prick still buried inside me, he leaned forward to press against, my back.

I loved the feeling of his kiss on my neck, but even more I loved the slickness of his palm as he wrapped his hand around my hardon. Mike didn't even need to do much. Just give slow soft pumps in and out of my guts while his fingers ran along my dick. I fired off, heavy and hard. I felt lightheaded when I came.

We were quiet as we uncoupled. The shame was coming back to me as I showered off. Shame that I enjoyed what others might see as a dominant, selfish fuck. Shame that there were funds in my Venmo account. Shame that I was falling for Mr. Keenan so hard. I knew I couldn't stay over in this hotel room, not tonight. I needed some space to think.

Mike had his robe back on. To this day a white terry bathrobe is a fetish for me. His tone was more serious. "You mad at me Luke?" he asked as he sat in the hotel chair and watched me get dressed.

I grimaced but shook my head no. "I didn't think I'd like sex that rough," I said softly.

I could see a sly grin from on his lips. But he continued. "I wasn't talking about the fuck."

God, the man could be intense, behind the suave businessman outgoingness and the friendly paternal vibe. It was like I was seeing the real Mr. Keenan. Intimidating, sure, but I also wondered if he had a hard time with real relationships. His marriage hadn't worked out, he was clearly estranged from his son, and he basically hired dates instead of having real girlfriends.

I paused, just holding the T shirt I was going to put back on. "Can I be blunt, Mr. K? You say you don't want a hooker, and yet have a way of treating me like one."

He was prepared for that. "You're not that, Luke. But I'm not ready for anything serious. I figure I can help you out, and you can help me out." He looked at me and could tell I still didn't get it. "Listen, it's not just sex. I love spending time with you buddy. You're a hell of a lot more fun than those sugar babies, I'll tell ya." He cracked a smile, and I had to as well.

"I guess," I said. Remembering Kimberly, I could imagine she'd be more work than fun.

My conciliatory tone made him happy, and I was glad to see the friendly Mr. Keenan return. "Well, it's just I don't always have the time or interest for all the other boyfriend bullshit. Checking in, looking after emotional needs, dealing with jealousy."

I gulped. I was starting to get a better picture of Mike. The side Rich hated. The side I should hate more.

He watched my reaction but continued. "I know that wouldn't be fun for you to deal with, so I want to make it worth your while."

"Make what worth my while?" I asked. Again, as persuasive as he was, I felt he kept talking around the sex part.

He laughed, almost amused at how astute I was. "Luke, I'm not going to pay you per sex act. Or per night. But..." his voice got conspiratorial. I wondered if he knew what that supportive dad-figure tone did for me, and just weaponized it to get his way. Honestly I think it just came naturally to him. "Well, bud, I'd love an arrangement when you're able to keep me company when I'm in DC." His blue eyes got an impish cast to them, and I knew he was in seal-the-deal mode. "I'm pretty sure we could have a lot of fun together."

"You wanna be my sugar daddy?" I asked, point blank. It's not that I was dumb, but I actually didn't think Mr. Keenan was outright going there.

He nodded. But his face had a caution to it. "Would it better if we ditched the labels?" he asked, a smirk on his face reminding me of his own no-labels policy.

"It would," I answered. Then. "OK if I think on it, Mike?"

"Of course," he said.

He stood up as I finished putting on my shoes. Seeing how handsome he was I almost asked if I could stay over again. But the vibe wasn't right for that.

As I made my way to the room door, Mr. K patted my shoulder. "You're a fine young man, Luke," he said. His fingers gave my muscle a little squeeze before letting go. "I mean that."

"Thanks, Mr. Keenan," I said.

***

The Uber ride was quick at that time of night. I'd have to come up with an excuse to my roommate while I was out again. I'd probably have to come up with a lot more excuses if I hung out more with Mr. K. Or, if he got me my own apartment, things would be easier. Meeting up with him. Having sex with him.

I pulled out my phone. I thought I'd hesitate before sending but I knew I knew my answer.

"You'll have to let me know how it works Mr. K," I texted. "But I'm in."

No labels. But if Mike Keenan was going to call himself my sugar daddy that was probably OK too.

I got a quick reply. "That makes me happy Luke. Talk tomorrow sexy."

I felt warm inside. Mike Keenan was going to make this worth my while. But I was determined to make it worth his, too.

[lanadelnegan]

Can you do a pt 2 to your Negan and reader fuck buddies story where some guy gives a his jacket to reader because she gets cold and Negan is working outside and he can see them and when she goes over to him later he's like "who's jacket is that" and she's just like "idk some guys" and he's like "you don't remember his name?" And she's like "No, not really" and then he just whispers good and starts kissing her and then it hits reader that he's super jealous and she starts smiling and shit and they end up having rough sex (matting press pls 😈)

Anon request #2: I love your writing so much and i LOVED your latest post for Negan omg can you do a pt. 2 or something where Negan sneaks off with reader during the day and eats her out since she sucked him off before 🙏 again you're writing is absolutely amazing keep up the amazing work ♥️

___________________________________________

Gonna combine these two since they're similar! Thanks for the requests, ilyyyy 😘

Lip Gloss (Pt. 2)

S10/11 Negan x Reader

Part one here

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), semi-public sex, heavy breeding kink, mentions of future pregnancy, mention of death (negan threatening other men)

It's been a few days since I've visited Negan in his cell, so when I spot him across the yard doing some gardening, I can hardly pry my eyes off of him. They just started letting him help out around here, and I'm happy for him.

I try not to stare, not wanting others, or him, to catch me in the act. I just got back from dropping some supplies off at Hilltop, and I continue walking, eager to finally to get back to my own house. I shiver and grip the unfamiliar jacket closer to me as I walk past him, hoping he doesn't notice me. I can't risk someone seeing us.

"So that's how it's gonna be, huh?"

I walk slower but don't turn around.

"You've gotta be kidding, y/n. Not even a hi?"

I turn this time, walking over to him while glancing around. Luckily everyone is either in their homes or far enough away where they won't notice.

"Negan, it's not personal. You know that. But we can't be seen being all sweet on each other."

He grins down at me cockily.

"Then don't. Slap me. Yell at me. Do what you have to fucking do, but don't ignore me."

When I don't respond, his face turns serious and his brows come together. "Whose fucking jacket is that?"

I look down, blushing a little. "I dunno." My hands slide in the pockets. "Some guy's."

"Oh, some guy? You don't remember his name?" He whispers down at me.

"No. I was just cold, Negan. I didn't even ask him his name." I look at him confused.

The side of his mouth raises into a smirk. "Good."

"Aw, is someone.. jealous?" I raise my eyebrows at him.

Without warning, he grabs my wrist out of the jacket pocket and pulls my body against his before pressing his lips into mine.

After a couple seconds, I jerk away quickly and look around. "Negan! What the fuck!" I whisper yell at him.

"No one's lookin', doll." His hand presses into my lower back, pulling me into him again. His other hand tilts my chin up to kiss me again.

"Someone could be looking from their window." I say in between our kisses.

"Then let's give them a goddamn show." He deepens our kiss, slipping his tongue in my mouth as I moan into him.

"Negan." I breathe out.

"Come see me tonight, baby. It's my turn to make you feel good."

"No. I need you.. now."

His smirk widens into pure arrogance as he looks down at me. "Hell baby, I am not gonna say no to that." He looks around to make sure we're still alone. "Come on."

He leads me to the side of one of the houses until we're out of sight before crashing his lips into me hard, pressing my back into the exterior wall.

His bulge presses into me firmly and I reach for him but he grabs my hands.

"Not so fast, baby. I am fucking starving." He whispers as he unbuttons my pants, quickly sliding them and my underwear down and off my legs. My eyes widen as I look around, hoping no one walks by.

"Negan.. maybe we shou-"

Before I can finish, he's on his knees in front of me, throwing my leg over his shoulder, and burying his face into my pussy.

My mouth gapes open as I stare down at him. He licks from my hole to my clit before stopping and sucking it lightly.

"Oh my god." I breathe out. "Negannn." My fingers lazily grip his salt and pepper hair as I moan out.

He pulls back for a moment to look up at me.

"God, baby. You gotta fucking come see me more. This pussy is my new favorite meal." He dives back in like a starving man, devouring me from the inside out.

"Negan.. Negan, I'm getting close." I whimper out, leaning my head against the wall and pushing his head closer to my center. His tongue laps at my dripping hole while his nose nudges my clit.

"Can you squirt, baby? Want you to spray those delicious juices all over my face."

I shake my head. "I’ve never, uh - I don't think so."

He chuckles before pressing his face back into my cunt.

"I do." His lips move against me as he slides his middle finger teasingly through my folds and slipping it deep inside my pussy. He curves it in a "come here" motion while sucking my clit simultaneously and my orgasm hits me like a tidal wave, almost knocking me from my feet.

Negan steadies me with his other hand under my thigh so I don't collapse.

"Fuuuck! Negan!" I suddenly feel a pool of warm liquid between my legs and he groans loudly, licking up every drop. "That's a good fucking girl!" His deep voice vibrates my center.

He pulls back once he's licked up every drop. I blush at the sight of my wetness glistening on his lips and beard.

"I knew you could do it, baby. So fucking proud of you."

He stands up and I slowly trace my lips over his, rubbing my own wetness from his mouth over mine.

The faint sounds of voices appear in the distance and I quickly throw my pants back but not before realizing my panties are gone. I look at his jeans to see them sticking out of his pocket.

He shrugs innocently when I look at him and I roll my eyes. Such a Negan move.

"You just gonna leave my blue balls hangin', sweetness?"

I grab his hand, leading him to the back of the house, which happens to be mine. "You have such a way with words."

"So I've been told." He grins as we enter the backdoor and I waste no time kissing him and leading us to the couch.

"Y/n, listen. We need to talk first." He interrupts.

"What's there to talk about? I need you in me." I continue kissing him while taking my pants off clumsily.

I quickly discard the jacket, then my shirt and bra, leaving me completely exposed to him.

"You are such a fucking smoke show, doll. Holy hell. Don't know what you're thinkin' givin' an old man like me the time of day."

I shrug. "Not a lot of options around here."

He chuckles before slowly walking towards me. "No? Maybe you should go live with your boyfriend at Hilltop, then."

"Maybe I will.." I whisper up at him before he picks me up suddenly, throwing me over his shoulder.

I yelp as I'm turned upside down. "Negan!"

He walks us towards the first door he sees, my bedroom, and kicks it open forcefully while smacking his hand on my bare ass and throwing me on the bed.

"Negan! You just broke my door!"

"Not the only thing I'm about to break, sweetheart.”

I lean up on my elbows and watch him undress. My mouth waters when his cock finally springs free.

I bend my legs, raising my knees and spreading my legs apart in front of him while my hand drifts to my aching center.

Negan watches me lustfully while he pulls his t-shirt off.

"Y/n. Remember when I said we needed to talk?"

I nod my head and slowly circle my finger around my clit. "Yes." I moan out quietly, keeping eye contact with him.

His eyes drift towards my pussy, watching me touch myself for a moment before meeting my gaze again.

"I care about you." He admits.

My finger drops lower to my hole before teasing it. "I care about you too, Negan."

He climbs on the bed on top of me, grabbing each of my wrists and bringing them above my head.

"I'm serious, y/n. I'm tired of sneaking around." His eyes search mine.

"So what does this mean? For us?”

"I don't want to hide what we have anymore."

"Negan - if they find out.."

"Then what? They cut off our heads as punishment?" He says sarcastically. "They'll get over it... Do you want this? To be together?"

"Yes." I breathe out.

That's all he needs to hear before crashing his lips into mine and kissing me passionately. My hands rub over his smooth back as our tongues explore each other's mouths.

“Told you you’d my girl eventually, baby.”

I'm so caught up in kissing him that I barely notice him positioning himself at my opening, until he rams into me in one swift motion.

I moan out as he stretches me open and thrusts into me fast and deep.

“I know how we can show them who you belong to.” He whispers lowly.

“H-how?”

“I could pump you full of my cum every fucking day until my baby grows inside of you.”

My eyes widen. “Negan…”

He smirks. “It’s okay, baby. We don’t have to rush it. You’ll want my baby.. eventually.”

“No.” I quickly blurt. “I want it. I want you to put a baby in me.”

“Yeah?” He smirks down at me as he fucks me faster.

He leans back on his knees for a moment before wrapping his arms around my thighs and bringing them up, spreading them as far as they’ll go before leaning back over me and fucking me harder than before.

He’s so much deeper from this angle and I moan out loudly as his heavy balls slap against me.

“Negan! I’m cumming!” I cry out and he growls, pounding me faster and deeper.

“That’s right, baby. Let go. Soak my fucking cock.”

And I do just that.

His hand reaches down between us to swipe up some of my juices with his finger before sucking them into his mouth. “Cant get enough of this sweet fucking cunt. Could drink you like water, baby.”

I kiss him, tasting myself on him and we moan together. “I could cum just from the taste of you.” He whispers in my mouth.

“So cum.” I whimper and his head falls lazily to the side of mine as he buries his face in my neck.

He groans in my ear as he stops thrusting, pushing himself deeper than I thought possible. My legs wrap around his waist and dig into him as I moan from the feeling of his cock pulsing and seed filling me to the brim.

His lips find mine again as he starts pumping himself in me slowly, deliberately pushing his load deeper and deeper.

“Cant wait to see this belly swollen with my fucking kid, baby. He says before finally pulling out.

I smile lovingly at him as he gets dressed. “Negan, it’s starting to get dark. They’ll wonder where you are soon.”

My heart hurts at the thought of him leaving and sleeping in that stupid fucking cell any longer. But now isn’t the right time. We need a plan.

“I know.” He drops his head while climbing off me and the bed and dressing himself.

“Fucking sucks. I wanna stay with you.”

“You will soon. We’ll find a time to tell everyone, but not tonight.”

Negan just nods understandingly. “I’ve waited this long. A few more lonely nights won’t hurt. At least I have these to keep me company.” He shoves my panties deeper in his pocket while raising his eyebrows at me.

“I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? Come on, I’ll walk you out.” I lace my fingers between his as we walk the short distance to the living room and back door.

He picks up the strange man’s jacket from the floor on his way out, flinging it over his shoulder irritably.

“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll dispose of this for you.” He reaches for the door before turning around and placing a gentle kiss to my lips.

“Oh, and if another man offers you another goddamn article of clothing, I’ll hang him with it.”

The end. Xx

[davidlcki]

BESTIE BEGGING ON MY KNEES we need more david loki x reader out here 😭😭 maybe some angst/comfort?? ILY

jealousy

i got two pretty similar requests so i kinda combined these into one! anywho i fucking LIVE for angst, so i had fun writing this! it’s not as angsty as some of the stuff i’ve written, but i hope this lives up to yalls expectations 🙏

pairing: detective david loki x reader

warnings: cussing, arguing, jealousy, drinking, david gets slapped. implied female reader, though it can be read as gn! i think that’s it 😁

summary: david is jealous of a new hire that’s been flirting with you at the precinct.

words: 1,313

“i’m just saying i don’t like you being all buddy buddy with him.” david’s words shot anger through your veins. he was talking about one of the new hires that you were tasked with showing around the precinct. you were only the receptionist, meaning you had the most spare time to show someone the ropes. you could tell the guy liked you, making a few jokes and letting his eyes linger on you a little longer than they should. this didn’t bother you a bit. you were so smitten with david that no other person would be able to tinge it in even the slightest, so you let it slide and continued on showing him around. in hindsight, you knew this argument was going to happen. you noticed the way david’s jaw clenched as you spoke to the other man, eyes boring holes into the back of his head from his desk, surely imagining a hundred ways to kill him.

“david. i was asked by o’malley to show him the ropes. what am i supposed to do? say no and lose my job?” david shakes his head at your words, sighing heavily.

“no. but you two seemed awful friendly.” his eyes snap over to yours from his place at the counter, a glass of whiskey in his hands.

“there’s nothing behind that. i treat him just like any other coworker. you need to get over this jealousy thing, D. don’t you trust me?” you shoot him a glare, annoyed that he was so untrusting of you. you watch as he downs the rest of his whiskey, slamming the glass down a little harder than he should have. he shakes his head in annoyance.

“he was flirting with you.”

“so what? i love you and only you. i’m not going to let some new hire’s shitty flirting change that.”

“you do this on purpose to mess with me, don’t you?” he scoffs, the slightest slur to his words. this is when you realized he was more drunk than you thought.

“jesus. you’re drunk. i’m not doing this with you while you’re fucking drunk.” you turn on your heel, walking from the kitchen. you were hurt. you knew he was the jealous type, but not like this. you hadn’t done more than show the new hire around and share maybe two laughs, but that was enough to send him over the edge. just as you stepped out of the living room and your feet make contact with the soft carpet from your living room, he spoke again.

“do you not love me anymore? that it?” this for you, was your breaking point. you weren’t thinking anymore as you turned and stormed back into the kitchen, getting face to face with loki who stood from his seat as you came over.

“how dare you?” your voice had a shake to it as you point a finger into his chest. “i would take a fucking bullet for you. god, your insecurities are taking over this relationship david! why cant you trust me like i trust you? half the women in the precinct drool over you every day. but see, i TRUST you. why not talk to me instead of drowning your feelings in fucking liquor first?” by the time you finished speaking you realized tears were coming down your cheeks in thick streams. you could tell what you had said got to david deep down, but you also knew how he was after a few drinks. stubborn as all hell. a few beats of silence pass before his brows furrow, eyes hardening ever so slightly, only something you could notice. you grit your teeth, knowing some bullshit was about to leave his lips.

“you gonna leave me over this now so you can go be with that new hire? what’s his fuckin’ name, john? jake? j-” you cut david’s sentence short with a harsh slap to the face. you knew it was wrong, but you were so hot with anger that any rational thought had been thrown out the window. his head snapped to the side, and for a while he stayed that way, pressing his lips into a flat line as he processed what had just happened, surely getting more sober by the minute. you weren’t the type of person to resort to hitting in situations like this, and your actions shocked the both of you. finally, he turned his head back to look at you, eyes widened ever so slightly. your bottom lip quivered, a threat of more tears to come, and you turned to walk towards your front door before he could say much more. you slipped your shoes on, not taking the time to put on a coat even though snow fell lightly from the dark sky. you didn’t know where you were going, but your feet had carried you through winding sidewalks through the little neighborhoods of conyers for at least a few hours. when you were sure you’d get sick from the cold and lack of a coat, you hesitantly came back home.

you pushed your front door open, and david was sitting on the couch, tv off. his head snapped to you instantly, his eyebrows knotted in worry. clearly he’s had time to sober up and reflect. you hardly make eye contact with him, deciding to head to the shower, hoping it would wash all your feelings away. you ignore as he calls your name out, soon drowning any other sound out with the sound of running water from the shower head. you stepped in so hastily you nearly forgot to pull your socks off. for a while you stood under the stream of hot water with your eyes closed, simply daydreaming. you were only snapped out of it by the sound of the bathroom door opening.

“david. just leave me alone.” you sigh. after a few moments of silence, you speak again.

“helloo? are you trying to be mysterious or something?” suddenly, david pulled the shower curtain back, not hesitating to step into the shower with you. he was still fully clothed.

“hey!!!” you shout, staring at him wide eyed, though a smile was tugging at your lips at the insanity of it all. “D, you’re still in your clothes!” he only looked at you, a solemn expression on his face.

“i’m sorry.” as he spoke, water from the shower dripped down his face, strands of hair falling out of their usual perfect place. you sigh, running a hand down your face and looking back up at him.

“i just don’t want to lose you. i’m scared.” you could hardly here these words from him as he spoke them so quietly, you nearly had to resort to reading his lips.

“i know. i know. i just wish we could talk about these things before you drink.” your eyes scan his face which remained knotted with worry. you noticed a red mark still remained where you had hit him. you look away for a few beats of silence. “i’m sorry for hitting you. i should have never done that.”

“i deserved it.”

a snort escapes you as you look back at him. “maybe just a little. but it was wrong. so i’m sorry.”

a small smile twitches at the corner of his lips. “i forgive you.” his touch was gentle as he pulled you into his embrace. you wrap your arms around his clothed frame, resting your head against his shoulder and sighing deeply, this time with relief.

“did you really have to get in the shower with your clothes though?”

“i thought it would be good for dramatic effect.” you pull away, looking at david who was smiling much wider at his seemingly great idea to get into the shower fully clothed. you shake your head, pressing your lips against his for a few moments.

“you’re an idiot, loki.”

[octuscle]

My family is very rich, but my father's recently gotten into some legal trouble and our accounts are frozen until that's sorted out, which surely won't be too long. Until then I've had to move in with our landscaper and his son. Carlos is so infuriating! He's an uneducated and tatted up thug with horribly ghetto fashion sense who spends all his time lifting weights or getting into trouble on the streets. He's very hard to live with, but maybe I'll end up being a good influence and rub off on him while I'm stuck here?

It's not easy at the beginning. Carlos is such a lazy good-for-nothing. You tell him about the start-ups you've just founded or the ones you wanted to invest in. He doesn't seem to listen to you at all. He's playing with his cell phone, pumping his biceps with dumbbells. He usually doesn't say a word. To improve your influence on him, you accompany him to the gym. It's amazing. Even though he is usually sluggish, he is focused and disciplined here. Of course, the gym is nothing like the health club where you used to train. But there's nothing wrong with staying in shape. So you sign up. If you tidy up in the evening, mop the floor and clean the toilets, you can even train for free and get a few extra dollars. That's great, especially as it gives you more time to exert your good influence on Carlos.

Somehow Carlos is getting more and more careless. The more time you spend at the gym, the less he shows up. You and your bros at the gym think it's all very stuffy. He also wears less cool clothes. He asks if he can wear some of the shirts you've managed to save. No problem for you, you usually wear his old gym clothes anyway. It's not worth changing your clothes either. Either you're at the gym or you're hanging out with your gym buddies. One of them took you to the tattoo artist the other day. You look hot with that tattoo on your chest. But tattoos are really expensive! One of your bros organizes a job for you as a meat cutter at the slaughterhouse. That's great, then you can work there early in the morning, then have a nap, go to the gym, tidy up and clean and go straight back to the slaughterhouse. It's pretty exhausting. But you have your bros around you the whole time. Only Carlos, the philistine, you hardly ever see. Sometimes, when you do train together again, he asks you a few questions about the startup shit. Dude, you'd better deal with that when you're back in your penthouse. Shit, it's going to be a sick party with your bros and the other guys from the slaughterhouse. But you're happy to help Carlos. The little prick doesn't seem to get anything else together. His parents hardly ever get to see him either.

Carlos moves out of his parents' house. Apparently, the second round of financing has raised 200 million dollars. For some fucking fitness plan app. Shit, you used to have a similar idea. How could Carlos the little prick steal it from you? And how did he even know how to create a pitch deck and raise a financing round? And now it's only just come out that this is his second startup. He implemented the first idea and had a modest exit. But at least he was successful enough to buy your old penthouse at a foreclosure auction. His parents say that you shouldn't be sad. You would be like a son to them. And of course you can stay with them in Carlos' room.

Carlos is cool. On the cover of every business and digitization magazine. The rising star in the startup sky. Somewhere you read shit like "Ingenious combination of big data, big business and big muscles". Supposedly he also bought your family's house on Long Island. Fuck that. He gave you that cool necklace for your birthday. And a voucher for the tattoo artist. You got a tattoo of raw meat. To mark you as a stallion from the slaughterhouses. This is your home. And your destiny.

[tyxoxo]

hello!! i just read your nomin smut, and if we still can, i wanna request #7 and #13 for the nsfw dialogue prompts with them

[“Can you guys just fuck already?” +“Did I just say that out loud?”]

warnings: haechan is a perv, implied blackmail, fruity nomin, throuple, oral, facefucking, exhibitionism/voyeurism

a/n: since i didn’t want this to be a copy of my last one, i added haechan in the mix. i hope that’s okay 😭

“I don’t know why I agreed to this.” Jeno spoke into the palms of his hands, followed by a heavy sigh. Would he end up regretting this decision? Maybe.

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun. You won’t even know I’m here.” Haechan said with a smirk. He was awfully smug, eager to watch his two friends absolutely destroy their shared girlfriend, and ultimately cash in on the show of a lifetime. 

You, Jeno, and Jaemin all gave a “bullshit” expression, eyes darting over to the boy sitting on your reading couch in the corner of the bedroom. 

Neither one of you believed his jest, and judging by the laugh he tried to hold in, it only brought more truth to his mischief. 

Somehow, through blackmail as you would like to call it, he found out about your combined throuple after walking in on Jeno and Jaemin unloading on your face just a week prior.

It was bound to happen, not only from the three of them rooming together (not including Renjun), but because Haechan was a perv. 

You almost wished it was sweet little Renjun that stumbled upon it, because maybe then you wouldn’t be here like this.

Of course you were mortified when it happened—a cup's worth of jizz on your face right as he “walked in”, blinding you from all aspects of degeneracy. Jeno and Jaemin’s heavy groans masking the sound of the door being opened, and the only indication of a disturbance was Jeno’s sixth sense; being able to feel a fourth presence behind him. You couldn’t even open your eyes and stand up properly when you heard him yell, relying solely on Jaemin to guide you to the bathroom while Jeno remained in the room ripping Haechan apart. 

No amount of “sorry’s” would have calmed down their anger, especially Jeno’s. And for your sake, Jaemin diffused the situation while you took refuge in the kitchen, binging on dry cereal to calm your nerves. 

Hoping to put the horrid event behind you, all of you tried to carry on like nothing happened, with Jeno threatening once to kill Haechan if Renjun found out. 

So far, so good.

But somehow the bastard made a proposition later that night: either let him watch a second time or he’ll not only tell Renjun, but the rest of his “buddies” that we didn’t even know about. 

Jaemin tried to call his bluff, saying that there was no way he had other “friends” out there, and if he did, they were just as stupid as him.

Of course, he had proof. With a list of contacts just waiting to be informed. 

Discussing such a topic was not how Jeno and Jaemin wanted to spend their night: dealing with an awful case of post-nut dysphoria. 

And such a “deal” almost made the three of you wonder if there was a recording hidden behind his scheme. 

—

Now here you were, having already tried to drag out the inevitable for a week now. But you honestly wanted this over with; whatever to secure your modesty that should’ve been kept within the comfort of your two partners. 

“You know I could still kill you right?”

Jeno spat passed his palms as he sat slouched on the edge of the bed. The only noble thing you could provide was a pat and rub of his back, occasionally scratching across his spine because you knew deep down that he loved it. 

Surprisingly, it helped him ease up, but you still had Jaemin on your other side, trying his hardest to be the pacifist.

You looked over to the left at his incredulous expression, using your other hand to rub along his thigh for assurance. He met your eyes, slightly smiling as if he wasn’t the tiniest bit annoyed.

“Let’s just do this. I’m sure it’ll relieve some stress once we get started.” Jaemin huffed out, leaning forward to look at Jeno to formally initiate the evening.

“Wait before we start, give us your phone!” 

“Good idea…fucking christ.” 

Somehow Jaemin chuckled at Jeno’s pained exclamation, only adding more fuel to the fire.   

You thanked your last minute effort to keep this in the walls of this room only, successfully confiscating his means of extortion.

Haechan seemed to get comfortable after you placed it far away on the nightstand. And the three of you had no choice but to carry on.

As soon as you sat back down on the bed in between them, they got to work on your flimsy pajama shirt, raising it above your head to expose your chest.

Because of the additional body in the room, you almost covered your breasts out of instinct, but none of it mattered once Jaemin’s kisses lingered in that direction.

Meanwhile, Jeno got to the usual work of devouring your lips and grasping your cheek, sucking just as passionately as Jaemin did to your nipples.

Your hands matched the same energy, inching down towards their respective packages, where your eyes blew wide through Jeno’s kisses at the fact that they weren’t as flaccid as you thought they would be.

“What’s that look for sweetheart?” 

Haechan spoke quietly, but with just as much weight. You didn’t dare look in his direction, nor acknowledge his question. 

But Jeno helped speak your mind, way better than you would have been able to.

“Shut the fuck up Haechan…” Jeno’s words went from biting, to becoming lost in translation as he held in a groan. You began to stroke both of them through their basketball shorts, giving the perfect amount of friction against the nylon material.

You multi-tasked well, being able to keep a steady pace considering Jaemin swirled his tongue so skillfully across your raised nipples. Even tugging harder than he normally would, most likely to distract you from the sore thumb sitting in the corner.

But you spoke too soon, as your peacemaker boyfriend left his hand in place of his warm tongue to get a taste of both of you.

There was no hesitation, not even from Jeno as all three of you conjoined your tongues as best as you could—licking, sucking, smacking, all of the above to overpower the sounds of Haechan working to undo his zipper. 

You never got tired of their unique flavors, whether it was from their mouths or their cocks. And to be able to claim them as yours, brought so much fun into your life; an entire glass full of excitement and scorching hot thrills.

You felt Jeno’s unoccupied hand, all the way down to the contours of his palm lines as he cupped your clothed core. His prominent middle finger poked along your warm slit, tickling up your spine and back down into your pelvis like a surge of electricity.

“Are you gonna let me taste you? Hmm?” Jeno broke the mile long kiss of a lifetime, to whisper against your now-swollen lips. You seemed to have fallen drunk to their charisma, but with the help of Jaemin, he brought you back down to a measly level of sobriety with a harsh squish of your cheeks to elicit a response.

“Yes…please, I love when you eat my pussy….” 

“Good girl…” Jaemin cooed against your neck before forming a line with his saliva, from your racing pulse all the way up the back of your ear. You shuddered from the warmth, to which he smiled for the first time.

The weight of the bed felt lighter for a split second, as Jeno positioned himself in between your thighs. Jaemin fell back with you against the mattress right as you missed the death glare Jeno gave Haechan as they locked eyes.

Of course, the perv had already freed his dick from his boxers, sitting in the most splayed out position on the small cushion.

Jeno told himself he would try his best not to acknowledge his roommate's presence, but he just thought of the most wonderful idea…

His lean frame still blocked most of Haechan’s view as he pulled down your velvet pajama shorts in a flash, but one way or another, Jeno was going to make sure Haechan got to hear just how good he made you feel. 

You yelped from the cold air that immediately hit your core, but the sudden change in temperature didn’t last long. He pried your legs far apart, inhaling deeply as he licked a stripe from the crevice of your ass all the way to your pulsing clit.

Jaemin swallowed the sigh of relief that bloomed from your heavenly chords, and continued to eat up every whimper as Jeno began to devour you.

Haechan’s mouth hung open, completely overwhelmed by the sound of Jeno slurping up your juices. He just knew you tasted as good as you looked. 

Deep down, he envied Jeno’s animalistic desire and the rewards that came with it. Why couldn’t it have been him that got to grip the soft flesh of your thighs, lick in between your folds with however much desperation he wanted. 

Nonetheless, Haechan stroked his leaking cock, even faster now that he saw Jaemin doing the same as he continued to kiss you. 

But he managed to dart his eyes everywhere, from Jaemin’s hard length, to your wiggling body, and from what he could see of your dripping pussy. 

“You taste so good…so perfect.” 

Jeno’s words were muffled at best, but that was okay, he knew Haechan heard every word.

“Did you hear that baby? You taste amazing, like always…” 

Jaemin spoke in between his sloppy kisses, making sure you soaked in all of the praise before it was his turn to claim you. And eventually, he kept his eyes locked onto Jeno, the two of them sharing a telepathic high-five at their own game of bragging. You unknowingly backed up their tactics as you raked your fingers through Jeno’s hair, ushering him further in between your thighs. 

You gave what Jaemin liked to call, a “cutesy nod” as you caught your breath, something you always did when the pleasure became too much. But who could blame you, when the high built up like a drug—like your very own narcotic that you could seize whenever you wanted.

“I deserve a taste too…” Jaemin called for the switch, despite your orgasm approaching. You whined from the emptiness as Jeno rose up, slapping your thigh before he left you. The sting managed to surge all the way to your clit, causing your exposed body to jerk in front of Haechan. 

Finally, he was able to see all of you. Even if it was for a few blinks, you were everything he fantasized about and more.

Absolute perfection—completely drenched, chest glistening with a thin sheet of sweat.

But even Haechan was getting impatient, he was still waiting on you to be fucked. And if it didn’t happen soon, his own impending orgasm would be ruined.

He paused on his own pleasure, choosing to catch his breath while his two roommates undressed and got in their respective positions. Jeno remained to the left of you on the bed, giving Haechan a clear view of when he would fill your mouth from the side. Although Jeno towered over you, he still offered some assistance as you propped yourself up on your elbows. One hand rested behind you to support your head and neck, and the other gripped his rock-hard length, just waiting to slip past your lips.

Jaemin was down below like you expected, peckering small kisses along the inside of your thighs. You could feel his smile as he gave another kiss, this time on your clit. It felt just like Jaemin; even if you were blinded, you would immediately be able to tell it was him: being the mascot for all of the edgers and teasers, while Jeno reigned over the savages and deviants with pride. 

And you were always in the middle of it, ready and willing to be sucked into the wild ride.

The night's events started up again, with Haechan being able to see a whole lot more now. He watched as you welcomed Jeno into your mouth, letting him hit the back of your throat like an absolute doll.

You pushed through the edging that Jaemin unleashed upon you, bobbing your head up and down on Jeno’s length instantly. 

His abs tensed with every connection of your nose to his groin, causing Haechan to forge a death grip around his cock as he eye’s trailed up to Jeno’s furrowed brow from your luscious enthusiasm.

Despite being obstructed from the amount of dick in your mouth, you let a series of whimpers slip past Jeno’s accompaniment while Jaemin sucked along your folds like candy. 

It was your duty to let him know he was doing so well, and how you grinded against his mouth told him so. 

His tongue formed so many different shapes as he indulged; flattening like a board when he made contact with your wet lips, and perking up to tap along your sensitive nub to feel it twitch.

“Don’t fucking stop. Keep taking me all the way in…” Jeno’s demands from up above were a sign that you were losing focus. Your release was so close, and too powerful to let go of.

And if Jaemin backed off of you like he was known to do, you could honestly cry.

“I can tell you’re close love. Try and beg for me.” Jaemin cooed against your wet mound, offering a challenge that would make or break your orgasm.

Jaemin commanded one thing, while Jeno commanded another: either let up and beg, or risk a brutal reprimand if you didn’t keep your mouth where it belonged. 

You were ready to make your final decision when—

“Can you guys just fuck already?”

“Fuck…did I just say that out loud?” 

The nuisance that you almost forgot about, made his presence known again. 

Although it was a whisper, it was heard clearly, being enough to make you whine in disappointment from yet another denied orgasm as Jaemin backed away from your core. Your mouth left Jeno, much to his dismay as he left out a pained groan. All you could do was fall backwards on the bed, fighting back the urge to scream. 

“You better be glad I’m too far gone to do anything right now.” Jeno spat as he raked his hands through his locks that were beginning to stick to his forehead, ultimately searching for a “happy place” in the process.

“Unreal…”

You didn’t let Jaemin finish the rest of his possible rant, instead choosing to voice your distress.

“Please! I was so close!”

You screamed into the palms of your hands, fanning your butterflied legs back and forth to take your mind off your aching pussy. 

Jeno and Jaemin hated to admit it, but your desperation was hot. Their pervert roommate indirectly attributed to your edging, and seeing you become a crumbled mess on the sheets only fueled their sadistic tendencies even more. Though, they would rather burn in hell before ever crediting the dead weight in the corner.

All three boys formed a look of intrigue, with Jaemin initiating your well-deserved ending with a simple nod and cheeky grin.

With your head still in your hands, and a moment of silence, it was too late for you to catch their plan. And before you knew it, Jaemin stood in front of your sprawled figure, lifting one leg on his shoulder as he pistoned inside you.

You didn’t expect it at all. In fact, you thought the night was over. But here you were, raising your upper body to watch Jaemin stuff you to the hilt. Unbelievable.

“Fuck!!” Your cries of pleasure matched your reaction; with all of this liberation being long overdue. 

Jaemin’s own sigh of relief looped through your brain, creating your very own broken record from his satisfaction. 

For the first time, you decided to let your eyes drift past your hard working boyfriend and over to the boy in the corner. 

He was in heaven.  

Disheveled hair from countless times of sweeping his bangs out of his face to get a proper view. Bottom lip puffed red from incessant chewing. And skin flushed golden from the speed at which he stroked his cock.

Your witness to his own undoing caused a shift within you, and you felt so fucked up from not wanting to look away. 

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” 

Jaemin teased as if he wasn’t pounding you into oblivion, but you felt too flustered to admit it. Especially now that Jeno was going to prevent any flattering remarks with a simple, yet effective facefuck.

He had always been the jealous type after all.

Soon after Jaemin entered you, Jeno did a makeshift 69 position, choosing to arch his upper body as high as it would go. His clenched fists rested on both sides of your body, relying solely on familiarity to direct his length inside your mouth. 

To him, this was the best way to dissolve the anger that manifested over the course of a week.

You tried your best to prepare your throat, but the pressure from this angle caused you to heave around him. Jeno could care less if you couldn’t take it like this, practice makes perfect. 

He wasted no time, practically laying into your face with no intention of going easy. 

“Look who’s enjoying it now?” 

Jeno had reached borderline-feral, and he had every right to back up his degrading with how well he used your throat.

Not only were your ears ringing, but your entire neck felt like it was burning, and it didn’t help that the echoes of skin slapping had magnified. At this rate of filth, you weren’t going to last. And Jaemin could feel you getting closer with every contraction around his cock, but he reassured that he would be right there with you soon, 

“So happy I get to fill this pussy…” 

Only a few more shaky breaths remained as Jaemin emptied everything he had to offer inside your walls, forming a white ring of your combined juices along his shaft with every thrust.  

The entire atmosphere felt light as you attempted to voice your orgasm through the cock stabbing at the back of your throat, but all you could do was reach up and grip Jeno’s wrists for support as the familiar band snapped along every inch of your body. You gripped his wrists even tighter, digging your nails into the veins that decorated his arms.

Jeno intermixed his shaming in between his groans effortlessly, reminding you that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Nope. I’m staying right here. Right where I…belong.”  

His last word signaled the explosion, forcing so much of his cum that it bubbled past your abused hole in thickened spurts. 

You massed together the last remaining strength you could to smack Jeno’s arms as you floated away into near unconsciousness. Fortunately for you, he backed out just as quickly as he entered, unleashing a series of smacks to your cheeks to bring you back down to earth.

You didn’t even notice or feel that his cum had splashed out onto your eyes once he gave you the freedom to breathe. Regardless of the déjà vu, this was the most euphoric you had ever felt in a while, and you knew they felt the same too. 

Jaemin had just experienced the effects of the comedown as Jeno laid next to you, and he would have remained inside you for a little while longer had it not been for his mental reminder of his roommate. 

Because of your intuition, you knew Haechan probably looked completely stunned after his own release. You couldn’t see anything with the cum painted on your face, but you could hear those unfamiliar breaths coming from him in the corner. 

But now that you all followed through with the deal, it was time for a well-deserved aftercare session without him. And if he had to leave the house entirely for the sake of some privacy, so be it.

Jeno must’ve read your mind, as you heard him reach over for Haechan’s phone on the nightstand.

“Alright, time to go. And we mean go go.”

You let the two of them continue with their bickering as Jaemin leaned over to pick you up within his broad fame while still inside you.

“Here, let me help you…and then how about a movie after?” 

His endearing tone soothed you beyond comprehension, and you clung onto him like a koala as he began walking, presumably towards the drawer to grab one of his t-shirts for you to wear after being cleaned up.

You nodded before turning your direction to the sound of Jeno escorting Haechan out, followed by a loud crash.

“What the fuck dude?!” 

You heard Haechan shout, followed by running steps towards his phone that had been chucked down the hall.

The last thing to end the night was the loud slam of the bedroom door and Jeno’s dark humor, 

“If you see me on the news later, it’s because I’m wanted for murder.”

why have majority of my requests been crack i-

[until-another-one-comes]

My body headcanons for some of the boys:

Steven: slim but strong and muscular. He obviously has that military style training. Running 100 laps around the base, push ups, sit ups, swimming in an Olympic sized pool, weight training, anything to build up muscle and stamina. He can pack a punch and can wrestle a bear.

Izaack: absolute beefcake. More than Steven. He naturally has a big build but he works out regularly, mainly to keep his handsome image as a reporter. He’s very top heavy and has big strong arms that can carry two people and give the best hugs.

Angus: really slender. Not muscular at all. Doesn’t work out much but he’s the type to go out a lot. Nothing much to say here but he’s kind of a twink. Fans are saying Francis is a twink but I think the real twink is Angus here. Speaking of-

Francis: he’s mid sized to me. I know a lot of fanart depict him as some muscular anime guy but not to me. He’s not the slimmest but he’s not fat either. He used to have a slimmer frame when he was younger but you know how your metabolism slows down when you age, combined with a couple of poor lifestyle choices like not getting enough sleep and midnight snacking? Yeah. But he has broad shoulders, chest and strong arms due to carrying milk carts. Not the strongest but strong enough for manual labour

ANON YOU UNDERSTAND THIS IS 100% HOW I SEE THEM

YESSS Steven is def a muscle dude. Probably has a punching bag in his house and goes on runs early in the morning (if thats allowed, but still).

Yeah out of all the four guys Izaack is definitely the strongest purely strength wise. Clark Kent type of build. Oh my God he is literally Clark Kent.

'He can carry two people and gives the best hugs' that is so fucking cute I love that.

YOU ARE THE FIRST PERSON I SEE WHO AGREES ANGUS IS A *TWINK*. I see most people saying its Francis but HELLO WHAT ABOUT THIS REGINALD COPPERBOTTOM LOOKING GUY?? Mfer has NO muscles. Built like a stick. I think its cuz people see him as a mob boss/mafia guy which is understandable but while I do think he's skilled with a gun and whatnot that still don't mean he's not a twink! (Despite this he does struck me as the type to have a ton of energy so there's that)

Finally, Francis. You are so right anon- he's not a twink and he's not a muscle guy either (no hate to anyone who draws him with muscle, I'm not exactly against that *coughs*). But yeah he's definitely average and in between in terms of build. Calling him a twink isn't right cuz his job still involves SOME manual labor. I also hc he had a bunch of odd jobs before being a milkman so theres that.

Oh wait this is a nice time for me to share a silly little headcanon. One time Angus saw Francis walking carrying a bunch of milk crates and offered to help him carry one. Francis handed him one and Angus immediately toppled over from the weight. After that he immediately just ran back to his apartment and too embarassed to look at Francis in the eyes for a week.

On a cuter note, Steven usually helps Francis with carrying them.

GASP

STEVEN AND IZAACK GYM BUDDIES

[uncouth-the-fifth]

last child - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: more domestic fluff with leon, a touch of angst over leon's scars, passing mentions of drinking, leon being a fucking cheeseball, leon's obscenely handsome back. Words: ~3k Notes: hiiiiii. thank you all so much for you kind comments on the first drabble in this lil collection, i have never felt so inspired!! thus, here's more romantic bullshit with the guy. i'm thinking these will all exist within the same vague universe with detective!reader and husband!leon, especially because you guys gave me some very interesting ideas for him. this drabble in particular was inspired by emrurow, who suggested: "leon def has a whole package of scars from his missions and just imagine this scene where the reader is like gently caressing them and kissing them and its just so fluffly and sweet and vulnerable at the same time.........aghhhh." AGREED. now combine that with my strange urge to hose this bitch down with sunscreen. i hope you like the direction i took for this! enjoy <3

“Vacation” is a funny word in the Kennedy world.

When your work-buddies at the precinct bring up their vacations, it’s always a trip with the kids that’s months in the making, or summer getaways with the missus they’ve requested time off for. Always in the States and always planned ahead. The big joke in the bullpen is that the officer with the most cases closed this year will win a dazzling trip to Greece—but Leon has been to Greece, and he claims it’s pretty boring.

You think you’d find Greece pretty boring, too, if you spent the whole time there crawling around in the mud and hiding under enemy tanks.

So, no Greece for you. Vacations in the Kennedy world look more like this: Leon is cleared to go home, he somehow gets hold of your ever-shifting work schedule, becomes possessed with the urge to throw himself at the closest idea of “relaxing,” and springs it on you as a very romantic surprise. No elaborate itineraries. No plan. Just whatever consensus the two of you come to in the car, partners-in-crime escaping into the wind.

“So… Vegas?” You joke, slipping your key into the ignition of Leon’s precious Lamborghini Miura. So precious to him, in fact, that he avoids driving it at every opportunity.

The second he sags down into the passenger’s seat, your husband spams the recline button until he’s near-horizontal. The hand not cradling an ice pack over his nasty black eye curls loose around your elbow.

He scoffs, winking open his good eye at you. “With my luck?”

“Ooh, right. Bad idea then.”

Yeah. His track record with cars alone was impressive—he’d busted open two in the first year you’d been married, and you’ve been chauffeuring him ever since. Somehow, you don’t think Leon and casinos would mix.

You can’t resist the urge to pet his poor knuckles. These, too, were banged up. After a beat of the two of you filing through all of your available escape plans, you break the pensive bubble in the car by sweetly kissing his bruise-mottled hand. “Mwah. Where do you want to be right now, baby? Let me take you there.” 

Leon’s head had lolled to face yours, and for the millionth time since Racoon you’re struck by how bone-tired he always seems. He rasps with a tasteful touch of patheticness, “I want a cold beer and I wanna be outside. Wanna see you in a swimsuit, too.”

As straight-forward as a chainsaw, this guy. Hm. Your brows flick up at the picture he paints for you, and you lean right up to his face so Leon can see how unimpressed you are. “Do you want a sandwich, too, Mr. Kennedy? Maybe some—”

You go quiet even before Leon lays a kiss on you. It’s his hand that does it, long-fingered and twisted with damage, guiding you closer with enough painful tenderness to make a mote of sand feel special. Uhm. What had you been saying? You’d been talking, but… The touch wasn’t a little tap for you to tilt your head up, no—it’s just on the right side of needy, the heavy pads of his fingertips dimpling your jaw so he can pull you down to kiss him. Happiness tastes like spearmint gum. 

You part with a soft wet sound. Leon licks his lip and smiles, “No. Just wanna be with you.”

Well, the best place to be with him that involved cold beer, the grand outdoors, and one of your swimsuits was the lakehouse he owned up in Philly. The fact that he agreed to go there was truly a testament to how desperate he was to relax. The lakehouse wasn’t like his Lamborghini, your Prada sandals, or the boat bobbing in the marina back in DC—it was a family heirloom. One last relic of the old Kennedy money he never talked about. The most Leon had ever said about his inheritance was that it was “dirty,” and you don’t think he meant in the messy way.

Your husband’s secretive past aside, the memories you’d made here together were sun-warm and golden. If you were looking to make some extra money on the side, you think you’d offer up the place to the film crew of some wholesome coming-of-age movie. It was stupidly gorgeous. On a sunny afternoon like this one, the water was one horizon-wide mirror, making the whole day twice as sky-blue and shimmering. A pine-y breeze cooled the drying water on your back and fluttered through the heavy, low-slung trees reaching for passing paddle-boats. Hanging over the whole thing was Leon’s personal slice of the Appalachian mountains. He never said much about the house itself, but his childhood hiking the trails was free game.

Leon has a knack for escaping. He’s not nearly as good at vacationing. Lucky for him, you wrote the goddamn manual.

Your husband lays his chin on his folded arms and peers at you over his shoulder. “Like this?”

From where you’re standing rooted to the weathered wood of your jetty, Leon is a fucking vision. He lays out in the sun on his belly, lazy tomcat limbs loose and pliant on the dock. All you can make out of his face is the white, knife-straight scar on his chin, hidden by a feathery curtain of angel blonde hair. Even the tacky palm tree beach towel he’s laying on suits him.

…It takes you a second to answer, cause, yeah. Yes. That’s… wow. Holy shit.

“...Dear?” 

How can one word gush with so much smugness? Hoo, boy. He was a baby, honey, sweetheart guy. Not dear. For that, you slip off one of your foam flip-flops to smack him or something—but, of course, Leon swats it aside without looking. 

The innocent little shoe almost goes spiraling into the water lapping at the dock, but bumps into your cooler instead. A fishing boat just a few leagues out has arena rock radio on full blast. One of Leon’s hands taps out the drums for Hot for Teacher.

“Shut up.” You puff a strand of hair out of your face. “Is that really how you’re gonna talk to the person single-handedly saving you from sun-damage?”

“Haven’t saved me yet,” he gives a pointed wiggle of his poor, sunscreen-less shoulders.

As rebellious as you’re feeling, you do as told. He’s impossible to resist like this. Well, he’s upsettingly dreamy in any situation, but he’s at his worst when he’s all lazy and languid for you after too long apart.

“Let’s fix that,” you say, and uncap your tube of SPF 50.

Leon’s face drops back into his folded arms. You pad around his body on the towel, careful not to step on him as you take your usual seat on the small of his back. It’s then that the gravity of your task hits you. Why the fuck are his elbows attractive?

Bigger question: how are you going to survive the next fifteen minutes? It had been you in the skincare aisle this morning. Hell, your hand had gone for the lotion sunscreen over the spray sunscreen for a reason. In that moment, you knew how your decision would butterfly into the future, and that no matter what you would always end up here, staring down the gorgeous swath of Leon’s bare back. Un-sunscreened. Needing you to touch him. Ugh.

“My eyes are up here,” Leon remarks at your silence.

Your other flip-flop dings off his shoulder with a satisfying bounce.

“...I let that happen.”

You don’t doubt that he did, but it feels good to tease him. 

Burdened by the consequences of your actions, you slump forwards on top of him. He’s dinged up even back here, and there are strange, yellowing bruises patching around his shoulder-blades that you stoop to kiss. You understand why he only has the energy to lay flat on a towel like a fish. It looks painful, and not for the first time in your life you’re overwhelmed by the need to take care of him.

…He has single-handedly set feminism back at least thirty years.

Well. Dammit. You glare down at your husband’s stupid, beautiful back muscles. “I do this because I love you very much. Not because I feel obligated to as your wife, or cause’ of any societal expectations. Just because of you.”

Leon, still running on a dead battery, gives you a confident salute. You imagine eagles cawing overhead. “Yes, ma’am.”

Another loss for feminism: that gets a big, giddy laugh out of you. Maybe you just missed him, but his sleepy jokes are hitting the mark even more than usual. You’re still peeling with giggles as you drop a big dollop of sunscreen into your hand, and they don’t die down until you’ve spread it between your palms and begun to spread it out over his shoulders.

The tips of his ears have gone red. He warmly mutters, “Love that sound.”

Since it’s not every day that you get to indulge in your husband’s back, you take your time. He lets out a long breath when the cold cream meets his sun-warm skin, and in that one sound you hear weeks of pent-up tension already melting away. Leon has always seemed unstoppable to you. Even in his wiry rookie days, when you never would’ve called him wiry at all, he felt like he could plow through anything on a wave of willpower and spite. Now, that relentlessness has become physical. He’s plump with muscle all over. His back especially, so much of his weight as taut and ready-to-go as a bull on the charge. 

Or, in less words: he’s built like a brick shithouse.

But he is still, at his core, the not-wiry-yet-wiry rookie you loved. When you accidentally press into a new bruise, he makes a soft wincing sound through his teeth.

“Sorry, baby,” you utter. 

From then on, your touches go feather-light. You fan your palms down his slim waist and make sure his freckly shoulders get good coverage. For a while, the thoughts in your mind go somewhere far away and shapeless, focussed only on the task at hand. But the sunscreen makes his skin so shiny that all the little details catch more highlights than usual, and you realize, with a rising sense of discomfort, that all the things you aren’t allowed to know about him are laid out in front of you. There are loads of scars on your husband’s back that you don’t even recognise anymore.

The old ones are the ones you know. Most of them are nothing more than thin, pale discolorations now, just distinct enough to make out from memory. In a fucked up way, it’s fascinating: there is a sad old scar on the back of your hand from Raccoon, and when it passes over a similar jagged cut on Leon’s ribs, the two have aged together. But while you’ve gained only a few odd scrapes or dings being a detective in DC, Leon’s body is a whole new story.

They are not the neat, decorational scars an artist might accessorize a figure with. It’s all ugly, in inconvenient places that layer over one another, quick swipes, deep gouges, shallow bullet wounds, shredded lacerations, and more you don’t even have words for. Your heart plummets into your gut. You’ve seen these scars on him when they were still fresh bandages, but it only dawns on you now, stepping back to look at the full picture, just how many he has.

You swallow hard. “I’m so glad you’re home. Did I tell you that?”

Leon hums a yes, but it’s a dragged out, suspicious sound. He’s quick to sus you out. Nobody in the world can read you better.

You’re shooed off his back with a hand, and when he lumbers off his belly to sit up and face you, the sliver of black-eye you catch underneath his ice pack cuts you deep. He hasn’t opened his free arm for a whole second before you’re darting underneath it, his body tacky with sunscreen where it melds with yours. Your finger swirls around the oldest bullet-scar on his arm.

Leon takes a slow pull from his beer, squishing your face a little where it’s tucked against his shoulder. The bottle taps against the dock. Tink. Always, always, he has to joke with you first. “You’re making your worried face. Stop thinking.”

Your voice is muffled by his shoulder. “You can’t even see my worried face.”

“Then you’re making your worried silence.” Disappointed, he asks, “Where’d all your giggles go?” 

The reply that your mind loads up for him is an unfiltered, pained, I hate that you’ve been in so much pain. But telling him that would only be stating the obvious, and in the grand scheme of his mission and his self-bound duty to protecting other people, (never himself, never ever himself), it feels like a stupid thing to say.

You’re not sure what to say. Instead, you drag your finger down a raised pink scar on the back of his arm, laid neatly with connective tissue like rows of embroidery. “...What’s this from?”

Leon has to check to know which one you’re talking about. Squinting at his arm, he plucks through his memory before guessing, “Pulled a girl out of a fire.”

That is exactly what you figured he’d say. Sure, he’ll chatter your ear off about Aerosmith and Italian cooking to no end, but the second you even blink in the direction of his work, the chatter dries up. All that’s missing is the smart-mouthed segue—

Leon pulls a smug face. “She’s a virologist now.”

“Ashley isn’t graduating until next year,” you roll your eyes.

That earns you a one-arm shrug. He’s still glimmering with pride. “She’ll be a virologist in a year, then.”

It’s never what gave him the scar that he remembers—it’s why he got it, what cause he took it for, that he never forgets.

The arm wrapped slung around your waist goes for his beer again, and this time Leon squishes you extra while he takes his sip. When that doesn’t succeed in sparking another laugh from you, he drops all pretense and resorts to tickling you, pinching your side and keeping you fished against him when you shriek and squirm away.

“Leon!”

“What!” He groans. “I’m trying to have a little R&R and you’re brooding. Enough.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you scoff—and then scream in outrage, because Leon decides he’s had enough of you and attempts to push you off the dock.

The only reason you don’t go sploshing into the drink is because you get a good hold on him first, and if you go down, then so would he. Between all that playful wrestling and shouting, Leon tugs you into an insistent kiss. And because this is him, the center of all good things in your world, you come out of it warm-faced and giggling again, your cheeks aching with a bright grin. He never fails to make you laugh.

You slump back on the beach towel, still twitching with little laughs. Just to win some of your dignity back, you reach past him and steal a long sip from his beer, shaking your head at him the whole time. It washes down your throat bubbly and wonderfully cold. “So mean.”

“C’mere,” Leon pats the space next to him. And knowing precisely what he’s doing, he hits you with one of the closed-mouth smiles you never see and assuages all of your worries with one, “My sweet girl.”

Hook, line, and sinker. You join him on the end of the dock, (weary of any mischievous hands that might shove you in), feet dangling over the edge and dipping into the pleasant, swaying waters. The breeze on your wet skin is almost too chilly, so Leon’s sun-warm body spooning up behind yours is the ultimate balm. You bask in your personal space heater for as long as he’ll let you, and he presses lazy kisses to your shoulder as you squeeze him close.

There’s a long, scraggly white line snaking up his wrist. You outline it with a finger. This is one of the ones you were there for, back in Raccoon—Leon took a bad hit for you, pushing you ahead of him so you could get to safety first. You’re curious to see what he’ll say.

You tap the scar. “What about this one?”

Leon doesn’t have to look to know which one you’re talking about, this time. His nose nudges behind your ear, and your body thumbs head to toe with the rumble of his voice, a single harp’s chord plucked by an expert player. “Keeping my world safe.”

Oh my god.

A huge, impish grin blooms on your face. “...You are such a fucking cheeseball.”

Leon pushes you clean off his lap and straight into the lake.

[danthepillerman]

this is a dumb toji x nanami smut fic cause i made a joke and now im just running with it!!

tw: nsfw and alcohol 😱😱

its another day in the Shoko Ieiri household, she had a few people over. Those people being Nanami Kento, Megumi Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, and Toji Fushiguro. two of them gouging themselves on shokos supply of beer while she drank wine.

Nanami and Toji were the two drunks, Tojis arm slung over Nanamis “hey new buddy!! pass me a beer” his voice slurred and deep as ever. Nanamis eyes look at Toji then at the case of beer. The blonde smirks and grabs a beer tossing it at Toji, “yeah here buddy.” Its clear to anyone in the room Nanami saw Toji as anything but a drunk.

The two continued to drink finishing the case and pouting about it. “Dudeee no fucking way theres no more” Toji grumbled to Nanami. The blonde hums “i can drive us to the store- trust im a GREAT driver when drunk” a drunken grin plastered on his face.

The two stumbled out shokos house, the woman walking out with a raised brow “i can drive you two, you do know that right?” She was obviously less drunk than Toji AND Nanami combined. Toji groans “dont be a buzzkillll me and kenny will go” a grin on his scared lips “no im serious ill drive you” she says one more time before the two drunk men duck into the car. “GO GO GO!!” Toji shouts and as he does nanami STEPS on it. The two stay mostly quiet with a but if small talk from Toji about the music he was playing.

Toji never realized but Nanami was pretty damn attractive, the street lights shining onto him as he drove. One hand tightly on the wheel the other propping his head up. The car swerved here and there but other than that nothing major. The two get to the store, parking HORRIBLY as they do so. “Hey dude youre a great parker” Tojis voice full of playfulness. The other male laughs “yeah id expect to be so, ive been doing this for yearsss” arrogance laced his usual monotone self. Nanamis eyes wander Tojis body. He was kinda hot..?

“So are we paying or not?” Toji was use to not paying for half his drinks- either some pretty girl with prettier money bought it for him or he just walked into a store and ran out. Thats just the type of dude hes become. Nanami thinks for a second and pats his hip “oh shit- i didnt even bring my wallet.. ehh its fine we can just steal. Ill distract and you get the beer” never in a million yeard would The Nanami Kento expect himself to be stealing beers with a ‘homeless guy’ (he called Toji this earlier in a groupchat)

Nanami walked to the register two apples in his hands “lovely night no? How you doin” a kind smile on his face. The cashier looked tired and already annoyed “yeah..great night- HEY!!” The cashier shouts when toji runs out with a 24 pack of beer and two apple (silly little add on) the two men run out grins on both their faces. Nanami gets into the drivers seat and bolts out. “Hey want one?” Toji says holding up a beer after grabbing his own, his green eyes wander over nanami, his strong arms, his beautifully chiseled face, his tired eyes. Everything about Nanami made Tojis heart race.

Nanami looks over taking a bite from his apple then tossing it into the backseat “yeah sure, open it for me” Toji nods and cracks it open handing it to Nanami while he drank his own. As the blonde swerved the streets he couldnt help but even ask where they were going, before he could get a word out Toji spoke up “lets go to my apartment, we can drink there and not bother shoko.. she might be a little mad i stole 1000 yen from her wallet” the green eyed man sighs, a laugh erupted from nanami, his chest bouncing with the laugh. “Sure man, where is it?” Nanami turned to Toji, finishing his beer and tossing it into the back with the apple.

Toji pulls out his phone that was definitely NOT stolen. He types in his address and shows Nanami, the blonde hums “easy, lets go” he speeds up, petal to the fucking metal man. All Toji could do was laugh. Nanami never really drank with other people, this was new to him. Drinking with anyone but work buddies. In all honesty he was having fun. Nanami reaches over grabbing another beer and driving the two of them to Tojis little one bedroom apartment.

Once at the apartment the two crash onto the couch, drinking another five beers. “Dude these feel so easy to drink now adays, like usually theres a weird taste to em” Toji said his arm slung over the couch and his head tilted up, Nanami hums nodding along with what the black haired man said “yeah i think thats just the alcoholism though” Tojis laughs at that. He sits up and looks at Nanami, his eyes falling onto his lips. “Wanna make out?”

What a way to go straight to the point huh? Toji was surprised by it himself, laughing it off “nah im joking thats gay.” His eyes dart away. Nanami laugh along with him “fuck it? Why not” he shrugs a smirk on his face. Toji looks back a bit surprised “seriously?” Nanami nods at the question and gets in closer to the other man, his hand grabbing Tojis chin. He leans forward and crashes his lips onto Nanamis. Tojis hand pulling him closer by the back of the head.

Nanamis hands grab onto Tojis neck kissing him deeply, Tojis tounge darts out from his scarred lip gently tracing over the blondes bottom lip. Once the other mans lips part and pushes his tongue into Nanamis mouth, his hands gripping at the suit wearing mans hips. Holding him tightly. Toji was in heaven, and he needed Nanami to know. “Fuck kento, you taste like heaven” his voice full of lust and need. Desire ran through both their bodies as their tongues intertwined.

Nanami groaned at his words, his cock stiffening in his trousers. Toji was just as hard just less noticeable from his sweats. The black haired man pushed the other down onto the couch his rough hands unbuttoned Nanamis shirt. Once it was off his hands wander all over the males body. Tojis lips trail down, biting Nanamis neck roughly, his jaw, his shoulders, his neck, all of it Toji wanted to claim it as his. He bit harder onto Nanamis neck, the blondes lips parting with a gasp escaping his drunken lips.

“Hey, kenny, you alright with me marking you up?” It mightve been too late to ask but Toji still had some decency. Nanami nods “hell yeah, i dont mind” and with that last bit of words Toji began to bit and suck at nanamis chest.

His lips wrap around the blondes chest, right above his nipple. Tojis teeth sink into his porcelain skin sucking at it and leaving a red mark, his tongue smoothing over the redden surface. “Na-haaa.. mmm” Nanami moaned, gently gripping at Tojis hair. His hips grind his Tojis thigh, he needed some sort of friction, anything, everything, all of it. Thats what Nanami wanted.

Toji grins when he feels Nanami grind into him, so he does something he think would help the other male. He cups Nanamis bulge into his hand, palming at Nanamis cock through his pants. “Oh fuck- oohh” Nanamis hand grabs onto the other males wrist, his hips moving to grind into his palm. The way Toji pressed onto his bulge made his even harder. Honestly he didnt mind making a mess of his pants if it was Toji who made him to it.

Tojis eyes were on Nanamis beautifully contorted face. He lives how his brown eyes shut tightly, how pretty Nanami looked when he moaned. “Aye, ken, can i take these off you?” Tojis voice slurring as he tugged onto Nanamis pants. The blonde nods “yeah.. take em off” he was already so out of breath from something as small as being palmed, maybe it was the alcohol.

The two ripped their clothes off Tojis lips crashing back onto Nanamis once they were completely naked. Tojis hand gripped and squeezed at Nanamis ass. (gay as hell but tojis an ass guy.) Kento moaned into the kiss, his cock twitching and bumping Tojis in the process. This didnt go unnoticed from the other male, his hand reached down grabbing both their cock into one hand.

“Shit your- youre leaking so much pre..” Toji was honestly in awe about how much precum was trickling from Nanamis soft pink tip. “Oh shut u-up.. thats not alot..” he responded to toji, his cock twitching like crazy. They were both around the same size, Tojis having a bit more girth to it while Nanamis has length. “Nah kenny thats a lot” Tojis said, teasing nanami for being more excited than he was. His rough thumb pressing onto Nanamis tip, swiping up the precum and licking it. “fuck…” Nanami flushed more at Tojis actions. He bit down onto his Tojis shoulder once the males hand started stroking both their cocks with one hand.

Nanamis bites down harder causing Toji to squeeze their cocks and moan out a curse. “Fuck, fuck ken nit so ha-hard” his voice rougher than normal. His hand continued to lump their cocks. “Ken, look at me” Toji mumbled, it was hard to talk when youre trying not to moan or whine, but Nanami listens letting go of his shoulder and looking at Toji.

Tojis hand lets ho of their cocks and reaches up, his thumb caressing Nanamis bottom lip before pushing past his lips and teeth pressing onto his tongue. All that mattered in this moment was them, and their drunken passion for eachother. Toji kisses Nanami again sucking and biting at the blondes lip. Toji pulls away after what felt like hours, both their lips swollen. “Go to my room. Its the first one on the left” Toji reluctantly pulls away and lets Nanami stumble his naked ass up the stairs and onto his bed, Toji gets up from the couch and grabs a box from his bathroom closet.

Toji never really had people over and the few times he did have someone over that he planned to fuck into next year, they always wanted him raw. But he still had a pack of condoms just in case. He made his way to his room and saw Nanami on his bed, face deep into Tojis pillow sniffing his scent, every few seconds his hips would move. That damn freak. “Aye im back” Tojis said with a grin, Nanami shot up and composed himself “wait i have to get it in the ass??” Nanamis words slurred together, it honestly barely made sense. “Uhh duh, my condoms”

What felt like forever of them arguing whos getting it in the ass finally cane to an end once Nanami shouted a finale “Fine!” with a huff. Toji had the condom snug around his fat cock. “Look at you, ass up and ready to be fucked.” Under any other circumstances Nanami wouldve drop kicked the person and stomped their lights out, but this? This was TOJI. And Toji was too sexy to resist.

Slowly the black hair man pressed his cock to Nanamis ass, gently pushing inside of him. The blonde gasps and grips the sheets. “Fu-fuck youre tight.. so fucking tight” Toji groaned, he waited a few more seconds before pulling back then slamming back in. Moan after sweet delicious fucking moan left Nanamis lips. All Toji could think about was how good Nanami felt around his cock. Hes never had sex with a guy but fuck was he happy he was doing it with Nanami, who seemed to be an ass virgin.

Tojis hips didnt slow, not for a single second. He pounded Nanamis ass in a fast and rough pace, he didnt wanna stop. Nanami hated how his eyes were watering from this but he loved how it felt, how his body was in a frenzy, how he couldnt stop moaning. His precum dripping onto the bed with every thrust Toji sent his way. Tojis head was spinning, his hand gently smacking Nanamis ass. In Toji’s opinionhe had a pretty nice ass, it jiggles with every slap, it was smooth, it was cute. He loved it and never wanted to leave it.

They didnt stop for a good hour or so going a few rounds switching out condoms, but when they did boy-o-boy were they exhausted. On the last round Nanami insisted no condom, swearing he was ready to take it raw. His hole was pretty lubed up but Toji still prepped him with his fingers. Once he deemed him ready Toji hovered over Nanami pressing a deep kiss to his lips while pushing his cock inside of him. His hips moved frantically, all rhythm thrown out the window like a steaming hot honey bun at a homeless man. Toji was started to get more vocal, moaning into the blondes lips, small things like “tight..so fucking tight” and “fuck yes, fuck yes” Toji was in heaven with Nanami and he never wanted to leave. With one fínale thrust Toji came inside Nanami.

The two stayed like that for a second before Toji pulled out and grabbed a wipe from his nightstand. He gently cleaned his cock then grabbed another wipe to clean Nanamis. He tossed those into the trash can and getting one last wipe to clean up any cum on Nanamis ass or thighs. Once tossed he laid down and looked at Nanami “maybe next time you can dom” Toji said with a drunk sleepy grin.

Nanami chuckled and nodded “yeah..” his brown eyes fluttered shut leaving Toji to gaze at him. He felt so much in that moment. But before he went to sleep he leaned in and kisses Nanamis lips, pulling away a second later and getting comfortable on his bed.

[fetishfairytales2]

Happy Birthday Sissy! Pt. 6 (Story)

Heather and Brandon are original characters created by @wittlesissyb4by in his fantastic series “Besties”, which this blog expands on. Please support him through his Tumblr and his SubscribeStar. ——————————————

After seeing the nursery, hearing about Brandi’s new Daddy, Connor, seeing the pictures of him and Brandi playing, and checking out the toys in Brandi’s toy box, we headed to the back door. "Are you ready to meet your little sister?" I slurred, all of us buzzed and giggly now. I swung open the door to quite the scene. Brandi looked messy, from what I could make out. Her pigtails were basically yanked out, her face was probably covered in cum, and I bet her makeup was ruined. The music was turned down and people had eased up on the drinks but were still plenty drunk.

In the circle by the pool, Brandi was totally ignored. The guys were too focused on watching Maddie and Kylie make out. "You see?" Kylie smirked at her boyfriend Brad. "I told you I'd make out with a girl." She then turned to Lyndsey and asked, "Truth or dare?" Brandi was hard to miss as she sat on Connor's lap, fidgeting and squirming with a diaper taped to her face.

"So, are these dirty or clean?" I asked, sitting down next to Connor and poking the diaper covering Brandi’s face. But Connor was too busy watching Lyndsey strip in the center of the circle. She tossed her bikini bottoms at me and spanked her own ass. "I’ll keep these as a souvenir,” I giggled, blowing her a kiss. “No getting dressed again though, I want to see that ass all night!" I was too distracted by my best friend's tits bouncing to notice why Brandi's diaper was taped to her face. "Aww, are you Daddy's little sissy cocksleeve?" I purred in Brandi's ear when I realized Connor was was forcing her down on his cock. "He's got all 10 inches jammed deep in your tight little pussy, huh?"

Connor pulled out of Brandi's ass, making the poor whimper. "No, babes," I said, pushing Brandi back onto Connor's dick. "Let her keep you hard for me until later." I winked. Grace and Sarah who had joined us and were still unsure about this whole Brandi thing. "Grace, why don't you ask truth or dare? I'm sure you have some burning questions for us." I giggled and leaned on Brandi’s shoulder, smiling as she whined.

Grace slurred, "Let's be real here, Heather. How many dicks has Brandi sucked?" All the girls tried to count, but agreed that it was probably more than all of us combined. Grace chuckled, impressed by Brandi's oral skills. "And let's be even realer," she continued, "has anyone besides Connor, like, you know...put it in her butt?" Almost all the girls and a few guys raised their hands. Brandi was quite the busy little slut, especially since two of the guys just met her today.

"Wow, she’s butt slut." I overheard Grace whisper, looking at the circle filled with hands raised. "What a pervert." She noticed Mark, my personal trainer, and couldn't help but admire his ripped chest without his shirt on. "Your hand wasn't up...did she just suck you off?" She grinned at him. The tequila must be kicking in. Grace turned to me and slurred out her final question, "Who's he?" She pointed towards Mark, giggling. Yeah, definitely the tequila talking. 

I strutted over to Mark, casually putting my arm around his shoulder. "This," I bragged, "is my personal trainer and fuck buddy, Mark. He can lift me up over his head and he's packing a massive dick. I'm talking 9 inches, swear to God." I winked at the flustered blonde. After debating if a dick can be that big, that poor girl, I urged Grace to take a closer look. I returned to Brandi and removed the diaper covering her face. “Sissy, you were just gagging on it, tell your lovely sister how big Mr. Mark’s cock is…” 

"I..." The poor thing could barely get a word out before she threw herself into a tantrum, the worst one I've seen from her. Even Grace and Sarah were surprised when she dropped to the ground. I'm sure she was trying to curse and yell, but all that came out were sobs. I knelt down and stroked her hair, still covered with cum. "Shh, shh," I cooed. "No one cares, cupcake. No one is going to save you. This is your life now. We can do it the hard way if you want, but it's happening whether you like it or not." 

I stood her up and turned her to face the crowd of tormentors. Gently, I swatted her on the bare ass and gave her a stern look. “It…it’s…” Brandi could not stop crying now and things were only getting worse for her. The tequila seemed to give Sarah courage too. She walked directly up to Brandi and flicked her puny little pink chastity cage as it dangled from underneath her sissy pink party dress.

"Is that your dick dude? Really?” Sarah giggled, still very drunk. “No wonder your girlfriend fucks other guys. I bet his cock,” she slurred, pointing at Mark, “is ten times the size of this…thing." Sarah laughed as she flicked Brandi's shrunken clit. I watched surprised as she grabbed Brandi and dragged her to where Grace was sitting. "Do you really jerk off to us, you pathetic freak?" Sarah screamed, pushing Brandi to the ground. Lyndsey gave me a look of disbelief before bursting into laughter. So much to catch her up on.

Grace leaned in close, glaring down at Brandi. "Come on girlie, tell me," she mocked, turning to Mark with a wicked smile. "Dish it. How big is he?" There was a long, awkward silence as Brandi tried to find the words to respond. "Ugh!" Grace rolled her eyes. "You have always been so useless. Fine, I'll just have to go find out for myself." Without another word, Grace strutted over to the alpha male, never taking her eyes off of him. "Hey there," she purred, batting her lashes. "Mind if I join you?" Grace sat in his lap and wrapped her arm around his neck. “Mmm, I see,” she giggled, wiggling her ass in Mark’s lap.

"Alright ladies," I grinned, turning to Sarah. "It's my turn now, isn't it? Sarah, I have a little dare for you." I ran my eyes up and down her body, she was definitely looking hot as hell. Both Grace and Sarah were killing it in their scandalous sundresses. Grace may have had a killer ass, but Sarah's tits were absolutely popping. Damn, I needed to slow down on the drinks or I might do something Brandi really didn't like. "Sarah, I dare you," I pulled my head out of the gutter, "to go assist Grace," I smirked. It was a risk, I had no idea how far was too far. But I had a feeling these two were closet freaks.

I was so excited seeing Brandi's terrified expression. The poor thing was really scared that these two were in on my little game. I caught Sarah looking at Grace, who was whispering and giggling with Mark. Sarah then turned to me and gave a smirk, saying "Ew bitch." I could see the wheels turning in her head. Oh shit, she really may play along! "Assist? Please, I bet I can figure it out first!" Sarah was so excited she skipped over to Mark and Grace, pushing her sister to on side and taking a seat on his lap too. Her hands roamed down Mark's chest and all she could utter was a weak "oh, wow."

I watched as poor little Brandi's brain melted watching Grace and Sarah throwing themselves at a real man. "Your sisters are wild, huh?" I taunted, knowing that her mind was probably too fucked up to even listen to what I was saying. But that didn't stop me from rubbing it in. "Let's see just how wild they can get, hmm?" I cooed in her ear. "Maybe if they have a good enough time, they'll come back for more!" I stroked Brandi's hair and held her head in place, making sure she couldn't look away from Mark. "Don't worry, sweetie," I whispered, "it was inevitable. I sort of promised these guys a week of blowjobs, from you of course, if they managed to fuck either of your hot ass sisters.” I pushed her head back, watching her sob and wail silently. “Looks like Mr. Mark will be getting two weeks of blowies." 

Kylie let out a sexy giggle and leaned in to give Brad a kiss. "Should we go for one more round?" Lyndsay eagerly looked between Kylie and I. "Brandi, I dare you," she said with a wicked smile, not even bothering to wait for our answers. She motioned for the sissy to climb over her lap, her smile almost too sweet. But Brandi was too distracted, still watching Mark's hand creep under the girls' dresses. Lyndsey grew impatient and grabbed Brandi by the hair, pulling her up. "Get over here, fuckface," she groaned, dragging her over to both her and Shawn's laps.

Kylie, Brad, Shawn, Connor, and I were all hanging out and chatting while Lyndsay playfully spanked Brandi just because. "These are your birthday spankings, you little slut!" Lyndsay smirked She would talk to us casually between each set of spankings. I was a little distracted watching Mark and the girls; they were having way a lot fun. Through the sounds of the spanking and Brandi's cries, I could hear bits and pieces of their conversation. It sounded like Mark was settling a little debate between the two sisters on who had the nicer ass. "No, no silly little sissy slut," Lyndsay scolded Brandi, getting my attention again, as he tried to hide his face in her lap.

"You better keep your eyes on them, sissy," Lyndsay hissed, gripping Brandi's hair and forcing her to stare as Mark and the girls explored each other. "And pay close attention!" *spank* *spank* *spank*. Lyndsay was panting by the time she finished punishing Brandi, allowing the exhausted sissy to rest against her. Ten minutes later, Brandi was being idly throat fucked by Shawn while Lyndsay held him in place. "Deeper whore! Gag on Mr. Shawn's cock!" I smiled watching Mark stroll off with the girls heading to the house - well, that was easier than expected!

[wormstacheangel]

Day 2: Pumpkin Patch

Run. Run. Run. 

Dean's lungs hurt with every step he took. He felt as if he was going to pass out, throw up, and then his heart was going to jump out of his chest like a cartoon. All in that order.

But he couldn’t slow down. He needed to save his own ass from getting sacrificed—he really needs to stop using himself as bait—as well as the poor son of a bitch they left in here with him. Dean barely saw the dude but he knew one of them was getting nailed in the cornfield—not in the cool sexy way—and the other in the pumpkin patch. 

He wished they had given him the pumpkin patch because running for his life through a fucking cornfield during the midnight hour sure wasn’t his idea of fun. 

He had a spell ready to kill these tiny Gods but they had to be together and where ever the sacrificial guy was, the Pumpkin King was sure to follow. Unless he was eaten already then Dean was screwed. 

 He wasn’t sure if he was even running in the right direction, the cornfield felt never-ending, but then he tripped into a clearing. Rolling behind some hay and bumping heads with somebody.

“Ow!” Dean hissed. Not because of the head bump but because someone just punched him hard on the shoulder. The dude looked like he was ready to do it again, winding up his arm and wide blue eyes looking extra crazy under the moonlight.

“Stop! Stop! Stop. Hey….buddy?” Dean grabbed the dude's fist and quickly pinned it behind him. “You got kidnapped and left for dead in this field for a monster to kill you?”

The man quickly nodded, knocking Dean backward and pinning him underneath his body. Dean looked up, surprised but in awe of this beautiful man. 

“I had a bad morning.” The handsome stranger said. A voice so smooth and deep it made Dean want to sigh dreamily at him, but he needed to not be killed first. 

“Tell me about it.” Dean tried to charm his way out of this one but a loud scream of something otherworldly brought his attention back to reality. “Sorry let me introduce myself,” The man raised a brow at him but Dean felt the body weight on top of him become lighter. “I’m Dean and I know how to kill these bitches.”

“Oh?” They heard footsteps come closer and Castiel looked around before they both quickly crawled toward the cornfield. They lay low and held their breath for what felt like forever. 

Eventually, the footsteps got further and further away and they crawled their way back to where they met. Backs against the stack of hay and eyes facing forward towards the cornfield. 

“Cas.” The man whispered to Dean after they both finally caught their breath. “And I don’t know how I got here. But I want to go home. Alive. Preferably.”

“Well, Cas,” Dean held his hand out for Cas to take for a shake but Cas kept their grip. Dean could feel their pulse race between their palms and didn’t pull back either. Instead, he gave Cas’s hand a little squeeze of reassurance, meeting those wide eyes filled with terror but determination—probably a bad combination. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Cas smiled, it was small but Dean wanted to see more of it. “Thank you, Dean.”

Oh. 

Oh no. The sacrifice is cute.

[soullessjack]

it genuinely kills me very slowly to think that some people can only ever think of jack as the destiel kid and not like an actual person with a myriad of maladjustments or silly funny personality quirks. like he has a whole special red and white fleece lined Christmas jacket and is canonically acknowledged as looking like a stupid hot white boy without any thoughts behind his eyes. He killed a whole fucking archangel and then decided that he really wanted to try making some friends like a week later. they wanna be normal and nice so bad and pretend to be some normal small town boy next door all the time but they were literally so angry once that it took three gunshots fired in the back to make him calm and reasonable.

he stress eats and stays in their room for weeks on end when they’re depressed or upset. they line their shoes up and fold their shirts and wear bright yellow vans and red hi-tops. he’s narratively paralleled to Anakin but his favorite character is Ahsoka. he pretended to be a coke addict and pretended to be a pretty new boy next door again to flirt with a hopelessly romantic girl. women want him and he’s absolutely clueless about it. women and men and probably fish fear him too. he dresses like a combination between an elderly man and a 70’s sitcom hippie. he was literally called Bieber and Suite Life. they like stripe patterns and Hawaiian pizza and movies and computers.

they’re literally an autistic person who just explodes shit when they get overstimulated. They watch riverdale and constantly sweep their hair back in a specific stylistic choice bc he likes looking like that. he fucking decapitated a whole Gorgon and then stole the guy’s snake as a trophy. he says shut up when he’s mad and calls things stupid and says they suck. he’s a teenage girl. he’s. A Teenage boy. He’s non-binary. He sat on the throne of god in grass stained jeans and clunky grandpa sneakers and left it all behind without even blinking as soon as his shitty bunker home called out to him. He sticks his tongue out when he’s focused on something and his left eye pulls up into a squint when he smiles reallt wide and his smile is crooked and he has sleepy eyelids . They decided to defy death herself just to rescue someone he mildly remembered caring about once and then blackmailed a reaper into helping with said rescue plan.

He got turned into the tiniest ugliest dog ever and got a thermometer shoved up his ass in the same episode where he’s narratively symbolized by the ouroboros symbol and makes the deliberate choice of destroying his soul just to selfishly keep his family bc he legitimately cannot handle thinking about losing them without going insane. his nicknames are sweetheart and darling boy and pal and buddy and Jackie Boy and slugger and he apologized to a girl for upsetting her like two episodes after ripping a man’s heart out and eating it raw. He literally actively wants to be a silly little guy that everyone likes but he’s so insane and unwell at the same time. he’s the best character ever and I need the entire world to understand this and to see him as more than just the destiel baby or I will also explode. .