#once again FUCK OFF PHILIP

[nimhmistsong]

First purple tear, now the blood-red night. I'm gonna need to draw fanart for my fucking Binah firing squad. Because nothing else I have played has been so fun and so successful at the same time.

ALL HAIL!!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

fr if taylor and philip don't kiss then what's this all been about. (the entire series of billions) what is it all for

[frogchiro]

Hello! I really love your writing and I had an idea from your last post with both guard dog Ghost and Soap.

I imagine after they chase off both Graves and Makarov they comfort and make sure kitty reader is alright. Taking her back to where they were sleeping so they can cuddle up with her and hold her close, making sure she doesn't wander off and get into another chase with mean Graves and Makarov. Keeping her squeezed between both Ghost and Soap.

(I've never done this before so I don't know if I did this right but I hope your having a good day/night <3)

Oh yeah they *make sure* their Kitty stays put and doesn't go anywhere anytime soon♡

They herd her back up to the hayloft where their nest is and first things first they need to lick and clean you bc you stink of a coyote and fox! Unacceptable! They managed to rub on you and scent you which only makes Johnny and Simon growl, they hate foreign scents on you, they barely tolerate John's and some feral hybrids?? Big no no

They lick and scent all over you; your face, neck, collarbone down to your breasts where Johnny sneaks a little suckle or two to your nipple which makes you mewl before moving down to your belly and finally to your most precious place where Simon, the dominant male, decides they need to conduct a pussy inspection to make sure those two didn't defile or breed you with their nasty cocks :((

You can yowl and squirm all you want but the two dogs hold you tight in their clutches, poking and prodding at your poor, swollen and wet pussy. While Makarov and Philip didn't have enough time to actually stuff you, they still managed to get a little hump in, Philip gwtting there first and getting you all nice on all fours as he tried to slip his cock in but was interrupted by Vladimir which resulted in their fight :((

Johnny and Si are simultaneously happy and angry; while you didn't get bred that fucking coyote still managed to almost slip his dick in and knot you and they just cannot risk that! So for the rest of the night and many next ones you slept soundly squished between the big, bulky bodies of your two mates and if you were ever lazily napping in the sun during the day, they hope you didn't hear them chasing and snarling at the two pesky feral hybrids who tried to sneak in once again♡

[crystlizabeth]

You belong to me..

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Shadow!femreader

Summery: she may have been a shadow and worked for graves but when your commanders friendliness becomes a bit to touchy it’s a problem, you don’t touch pretty things that belong to Simon Riley.

Warnings: possessiveness, unprotected sex, jealousy, praising, mentions of blood, not proofread

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

Simon hated watching those shadows touch you, even if it was ‘friendly’. You smiled at every praise that left Graves lips of how you did such a good job, the pat to your back to low for Simon’s liking and the way he let his hand drag as he walked away. Simon couldn’t help but wonder how Graves was towards you when nobody was around, even if he was your commander your superior he wasn’t allowed to touch you like that. Simon clenched his fist as you stood there soon turning towards him, your gaze different a look a smile that was only meant for him displayed on your pretty face.

A sweet face that he’d have buried in a pillow tears go pleasure running down you face. You saw the way his eyes watched you his dark eyes hooded dangerously staring you down. Price catching Simon’s attention was the only thing that made him look away from you, one last glance towards you before following Price.

Even with that gold ring on your finger signafying that you where his, the last name on your Files no longer yours but his. It wouldn’t be enough he wanted you to himself he had begged price multiple times to call a transfer of you to 141 but Graves always declined because you worked for the United States, the Shadows you belonged to Graves.

But jealousy gets the best of everyone right?

Simons hands grabbing the side of Phillips vest slamming him against the wall, “what crawled up your ass and died Lieutenant.” Graves groaned.

“Why is it you always find your hands on my wife.” Simon spoke his face close to Phillips, his voice dark.

An ugly smirk appeared on Phillips face the cocky twat only shrugged his shoulders a short reply “She’s nice, a good asset to me. She is a good asset.”

That right there if he could without geting put away for life would have taken his knife and silt Phillips throat, carving the commander inside out and feed it to his Shadows and Shepherd himself. Instead Ghost fist connected to his face, more than once, enough to leave blood on his hands and the shirt he wore. He let go of Graves letting him slide down the wall, “if you’re smart, you’ll keep your hands to yourself and mouth shut.” Simon spike lowly leaning down to make eye contact with him.

“I don’t see what she sees in you…” Phillip coughed wiping the blood from his nose.

Simon stayed silent, he didn’t need to answer that because you saw him for him he didn’t have to explain what you saw in him to someone who’s been wanting you to themselves. “I’ll give her the world a safe home and face to look at… your really think she’ll stick around you forever, please. I see her more day out of the year you do why do you think I decline those transfers from your captain. Just to spite you and help her forget you.” Phillip said blood dripping from his toothy smile.

Simon was fuming, his knuckles splitting even more from clenching them. Who did graves think he was? You stuck around someone like that, even bleeding and in pain graves still chose to test his limits.

One punch after another Simon was on top of him graves of course fighting back but a man’s rage was different few more punches and he stopped. Phillip was still alive he was gonna leave him there to rot nobody would believe him he was a traitor staying in UK soil this was bound to happen. And even then Simon had proof that it was just self defense.

Grabbing Philips hair making him look up at Him “Ya listen here, stay the fuck off my wife she can work for your or you’ll be smart and start a transfer. But may god help you if you lay a finger on her again.” Simon spoke harshly finishing by pushing Graves against the wall.

The click of your door opening startled you awake, but the figure that stood in the hall light that poured into your room made you less tense. “Simon..you can be in here..” your voice groggy, your eyes scanning over him at yuh turn your light on. He was covered in blood his mask held in his left hand as he looked at you.

You quickly got you closing your door pushing him to the bed sitting him down “who did this to you.. Simon.” You spoke lifting the bloody shirt off his head his blond hair sticking up.

“It’s not mine.”

It’s not his? Who’s was it then, who pushed him over the edge just enough. Was he gonna get in trouble for this, arrested. “Love stop the worrying..” he spoke breaking you out of your thoughts his large hands pulling you towards him.

He pulled you in close sitting you in his lap your thighs falling around his waist, the feeling of his hands grabbing your face made you wince a bit the feeling of dried blood on his hands made you cringe.

“You belong to me..” he spoke his dark eyes penetrating yours. “You belong to me.” His words stern and harsh.

“Say it.”

“I belong to you Simon.” You spoke his hands falling down your face his hands finding the bottom of your shirt lifting it over your head. You could feel the tension radiating of his skin, he was gonna take his stress and the rest of his anger out on you.

“Good girl, say it again, tell me I’m allowed to have you as I please.” He spoke his lips kissing your neck.

You obeyed “ I belong you you Simon, take me. Have me I’m yours.”

His lips met your kissing you so hungrily he was here to remind you who you belonged to. His hand grabbed the band if your panties pulling his hand back harshly snapping them at the pulling them if you your bare cunt exposed to his trousers. He lifted you up dropping your body on the the mattress as he undid his pants, quickly finding himself on top of you.

“Are you sure.”

“Take me Simon, I’m yours.”

That’s all he needed to hear, his fat head spreading your wet folds apart as he pushing into you. It’s been a minute since he’s been in you but your walls always seemed to mold around him so nicely, those gorgeous sounds you made slipping from your lips as he started moving.

The sound of skin slapping as he fucked into your poor cunt, you drooled for him. He knew how to make a mess out of you, your nails digging into his back as he bullied your pretty pussy. Even with every hard thrust he loved you so well, kissing you so tenderly as your cried out to him. You soft whimpers pleading for him drive him crazy this is how he knew you where his, his to destroy, his to love.

Your finger tangled his his blonde curls tugging on them as he made love to you cradling your head your knees pressed to your chest, he felt every inch of you. “Please don’t stop Si, god please don’t stop.” You cried out.

He didn’t the tightness of your walls staring to clamp around him was enough to bring him to his edge the moans that escaped your lips was enough to make him cum knowing that he made you this way. Your body folded into a mating press as you came on his fat cock. Your pleds for him to cum in you, that you wanted him to fill you marking you as his once again make you need him for days after. His thick seed filling up your puffy cunt, his white nut spilling out the sides as he fucked it into you.

“Common take it, yeah atta girl fucking take it.” He growled pumping in and out of you your nails digging into his biceps the feeling of his thick nut filling you making your eyes roll back.

His cock still in you as he sat up letting your legs fall down your chest falling up and down heavily, your body glistening from sweat. You were gonna be walking funny the next morning that’s for sure, “I didn’t hurt you right?” He asks his calluses hands gliding up and down your torso.

You shook your head no, “good..” he said leaning down kissing your lips tenderly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up yeah..”

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

Simon smut!! I have a Johnny one coming sooner or later!!

[gardenschedule]

just insane mclennon things

John playing his and Yoko's sex tape in a band meeting

As the meeting was drawing to a weary close, John, not this day with Yoko, who hadn’t seemed particularly connected with what was going on, said he wanted to play us a tape he and Yoko had made. He got up and put the cassette into the tape machine and stood beside it as we listened. The soft murmuring voices did not at first signal their purpose. It was a man and a woman but hard to hear, the microphone having been at a distance. I wondered if the lack of clarity was the point. Were we even meant to understand what was going on, was it a kind of artwork where we would not be able to put the voices into a context, and was context important? I felt perhaps this was something John and Yoko were examining. But then, after a few minutes, it became clear. John and Yoko were making love, with endearments, giggles, heavy breathing, both real and satirical, and the occasional more direct sounds of pleasure reaching for climax, all recorded by the faraway microphone. But there was something innocent about it too, as though they were engaged in a sweet serious game. John clicked the off button and turned again to look toward the table, his eyebrows quizzical above his round glasses, seemingly genuinely curious about what reaction his little tape would elicit. However often they’d shared small rooms in Hamburg, whatever they knew of each other’s love and sex lives, this tape seemed to have stopped the other three cold. Perhaps it touched a reserve of residual Northern reticence. After a palpable silence, Paul said, “Well, that’s an interesting one.” The others muttered something and the meeting was over. It occured to me as I was walking down the stairs that what we’d heard could have been an expression of 1960s freedom and openness but was it more likely that it was as if a gauntlet had been thrown down? “You need to understand that this is where she and I are now. I don’t want to hold your hand anymore.”

Paul putting beetles fucking on his album artwork

John hiring a pig and posing with it solely to mock Ram even though he was scared of it

At the end of the day a farmer delivered a huge hog to the mansion [Tittenhurst Park]. It was John’s notion to parody the album jacket photograph of Paul McCartney’s Ram, which showed Paul wrestling with a ram; John would wrestle with a pig. We all went outside and stared at the large surly animal. It was much bigger than any of us had expected. John circled the animal warily. He liked the idea, but he didn’t like the hog. Dan stood poised to snap the picture. “Climb on its back, John, and grab its ears,” he said. John looked doubtful. He stepped closer to the animal. It let out a shrill, strange, sound. John stepped back, but we all urged him on. “You can do it, John,” I said. John approached the animal once again. “I can’t hold the friggin’ pig for too long. You get one shot and one shot alone,” he told Dan.

Loving John: The Untold Story, May Pang

John & Yoko attempting to get revenge married in Paris 2 days after Paul & Linda

“On March 12, Paul married Linda Eastman at Marylebone Register Office in London, amid scenes of hysterical grief from his female fans. None of the other Beatles was present. The news reached John as he and Yoko were driving down to visit Aunt Mimi in Poole. Yoko’s divorce decree had become final a few weeks earlier, and, in a resurgence of Beatle copycat, John told her they, too, must get married as soon as possible”

Philip Norman, John Lennon: The life

We chose Gibraltar because it is quiet, British and friendly. We tried everywhere else first. I set out to get married on the car ferry and we would have arrived in France married, but they wouldn’t do it. We were no more successful with cruise ships. We tried embassies, but three weeks’ residence in Germany or two weeks’ in France were required.

John Lennon

SALEWICZ: Well, I always found it interesting the fact that he got – I mean, it seemed too much like coincidence to me, the fact that he got married a week or month after you. You know what I mean? PAUL: Yeah. I think we spurred each other into marriage. I mean, you know. They were very strong together, which left me out of the picture. So I got together with Linda and then we got strong with our own kind of thing. And I used to listen to a lot of what they said. I remember him saying to me, “You’ve got to work at marriage,” which is something I still remember as a bit of advice. I still remember that. Um… And then yeah, I think they were a little bit peeved that we got married first. Probably. In a little way, you know, just minor jealousies. And so they got married. I don’t know if that’s – I mean, who knows… [inaudible] making it up, anyway.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London): journalist Chris Salewicz

Their belief in telepathy & shared dreams

NEIL: I’d just rather not say anything. It’s one of those situations. PAUL: Yeah. [pause] Well, that’s – that’s the trouble you see, there, ‘cause that’s it. It’s like, with our – heightened awareness, the answer is not to say anything, you know. But it isn’t. ‘Cause I mean, we screw each other up totally if we don’t do that. ‘Cause we’re not ready for your heightened… vows of silence. [laughs; hapless] We’re really not! Like, we don’t know what the fuck each other’s talking about, when that – we all just sort of get— NEIL: I think it’s just between the four of you, that get it. That’s what I’d pretend. PAUL: Oh yeah, right, yeah. But you see, that’s it, that’s why John doesn’t say anything. ‘Cause he, you know, he just… There was something the other day, when I said, “Well, what do you think?” And he just stood there and didn’t say anything. And then – and I know exactly why, you know. I mean, I wouldn’t, if… [long pause] Somehow. You know, there’s nothing really much to be said about it. You just – we all just have to do it, and all that, instead of like talking about it. But – but if one of us is talking about it, it’s a drag if the other three aren’t. Because then it sort of throws you off. [inaudible; voice marking tape slate] I mean, we’ve just been talking about it now for a few years, you know. Like this…

From the Get Back sessions (13 January 1969).

HINDLE: What do you think about language? JOHN: I think it’s a bit crummy, you know? It is a drag form of communication, really. We’ll get – we’ll get telepathy. I believe that. HINDLE: You believe that? JOHN: Yeah, sure. Sure. Sure as anything I believe. It’s too… Because now we need it so much. [...] There are – there’s people everywhere of the same mind and it’s just… even amongst ourselves we can’t communicate. Which is the hard bit, you know. HINDLE: Yeah. JOHN: Amongst the people that sort of really agree. HINDLE: Just ’cause of words? JOHN: Just ’cause of words, and upbringing, and attitude, and how you express your… Well, it’s just some – you’ve got to find a mutual sort of language to express yourself, you know? And my language is that— HINDLE: Unless you fall in love it’s impossible to communicate like that. JOHN: I mean, I wasn’t in love last year, but I was communicating quite well with people. Not as well, or maybe not as powerfully. ’Cause now there’s two of us, doing that, brrmmm, whatever it is. Sending out a vibration or whatever. But before it was me and… or me and George, alright, or whatever it was; we weren’t in love, but. You know. There’s enough in you to shove it out. It is just that bit. If you – if somebody comes in a room and he’s uptight and that, he can make the whole room uptight.

John Lennon, interviewed by Maurice Hindle (December 1968).

PAUL: I remember when John and I were first hanging out together, I had a dream about digging in the garden with my hands. I’d dreamt that before but I’d never found anything other than an old tin can. But in this dream I found a gold coin. I kept digging and I found another. And another. The next day I told John about this amazing dream I’d had and he said, ‘That’s funny, I had the same dream’. So both of us had this dream of finding this treasure. And I suppose you could say it came true. I remember years later talking about it – ‘Remember that dream we had?’; ‘Yeah, that was far out’. So the message of that dream was: keep digging lads.

PAUL MCCARTNEY TO THE BIG ISSUE. FEBRUARY 2012.

John climbing the wall to Paul's house because Paul skipped a session for his & Linda's anniversary

(Not confirmed but supposedly)

Paul being utterly convinced that John can't be gay because he didn't try it on when they slept in the same bed

I mean, if John was–the trouble is, see, is he’s not here to fend for himself, and we can’t ask him, “‘Scuse me, John, are you–have you ever been gay?” I mean, he’s the kind— I remember people used to ask that. There were lots of people asking cheeky questions, and they were always saying, “Well, why–have you ever tried homosexuality, John?” You know, they always used to ask all that kind of stuff. I remember John saying to them, “No, I’ve never met a fella I fancy enough.” And that was his kind of opinion. You know, “I may go–I may be gay one day, if some fella really turns me on.” He was–he was that open about it. But as far as I was concerned, I slept in a million hotel rooms–as we all did–slept in a million places with John, and there was never any hint of it.

December 24th, 1983: interview with DJ Roger Scott

“And I say, if he’s homosexual, I thought he’d have made a pass at me in 20 years, darling.”

Paul McCartney talking about John Lennon.

“Brian Epstein, the Beatles’ manager, was a known homosexual. Epstein was always polite and charming. It has been insinuated that John was drawn to Epstein. I believe there was no such relationship between them. John was macho. But if John was a homosexual, it would have made no difference to me. I’ve asked Paul McCartney, who laughed and said: ‘Why not me? I’m handsome.’ Then he said: ‘I was holed up with John in hotel rooms everywhere. There was never a suggestion of anything like that.’ I believe him.”

Julia Baird, in Boston Globe: Lennon’s half-sister remembers… (2 October 1988).

“All I can ever say about it is that I slept with John a lot because you had to, you didn’t have more than one bed - and to my knowledge John was never gay.”

Paul McCartney, The Brian Epstein Story

And maybe he's right to be offended?

Did Lennon have sex with other men? “I think he had a desire to, but I think he was too inhibited,” says Ono. “No, not inhibited. He said, ‘I don’t mind if there’s an incredibly attractive guy.’ It’s very difficult: They would have to be not just physically attractive, but mentally very advanced too. And you can’t find people like that.” So did Lennon ever have sex with men? “No, I don’t think so,” says Ono. “The beginning of the year he was killed, he said to me, ‘I could have done it, but I can’t because I just never found somebody that was that attractive.’ Both John and I were into attractiveness—you know—beauty.”

Yoko Ono: I Still Fear John’s Killer by Tim Teeman for the Daily Beast (13 October 2015).

There was even some discussion, albeit not very serious, of whether he should stick to his own gender. “John said ‘It would hurt you like crazy if I made it with a girl. With a guy, maybe you wouldn’t be hurt, because that’s not competition. But I can’t make it with a guy because I love women too much, and I’d have to fall in love with the guy and I don’t think I can.’”

Yoko on her and John discussing the terms of an open marriage in 1973 (John Lennon: The Life)

On that note, Paul's obsession with sleeping in the same bed as John

Paul McCartney answers questions for Q magazine, 1998

John and I used to hitch-hike places together, it was something that we did together quite a lot; cementing our friendship, getting to know our feelings, our dreams, our ambitions together. It was a very wonderful period. I look back on it with great fondness. I particularly remember John and I would be squeezed in our little single bed, and Mike Robbins, who was a real nice guy, would come in late at night to say good night to us, switching off the lights as we were all going to bed.

Many Years From Now

John and I always liked wordplay. So, the phrase ‘She’s got a ticket to ride’ of course referred to riding on a bus or train, but – if you really want to know – it also referred to Ryde on the Isle of Wight, where my cousin Betty and her husband Mike were running a pub. That’s what they did; they ran pubs. He ended up as an entertainment manager at a Butlin’s holiday resort. Betty and Mike were very showbiz. It was great fun to visit them, so John and I hitchhiked down to Ryde, and when we wrote the song we were referring to the memory of this trip. It’s very cute now to think of me and John in a little single bed, top and tail, and Betty and Mike coming to tuck us in.

Paul McCartney, on ‘Ticket To Ride’. In The Lyrics (2021).

“John and I grew up like twins although he was a year and a half older than me. We grew up literally in the same bed because when we were on holiday, hitchhiking or whatever, we would share a bed. Or when we were writing songs as kids he’d be in my bedroom or I’d be in his. Or he’d be in my front parlour or I’d be in his, although his Aunt Mimi sometimes kicked us out into the vestibule!”

New Statesman, “Paul McCartney - Meet The Beatle,” September 26, 1997

“I wrote all those songs with him so…. what can I say to people?? We were kids! I mean… we slept together, topped and tailed in beds and hitch-hiking and stuff, so,…. I mean, we were just totally you know,….. mates.”

Paul McCartney

John taking matters into his own hand to start rumours about him and Paul

The consensus among John, Paul and Yoko that if J&P could have been together, they would have

“. . . I mean, I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away. And I understood that. I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, “Who’s this?” You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and… But you know I mean in this case I just sort of said, right – I mean, I didn’t say anything, but I could see that was the way it was going to go, and that Yoko would be very sort of powerful for him. So um, we all had to get out the way.”

Paul McCartney, interview with German tv program Exclusiv, April 1985.

JOHN: It’s a plus, it’s not a minus. The plus is that your best friend, also, can hold you without… I mean, I’m not a homosexual, or we could have had a homosexual relationship and maybe that would have satisfied it, with working with other male artists. [faltering] An artist – it’s more – it’s much better to be working with another artist of the same energy, and that’s why there’s always been Beatles or Marx Brothers or men, together. Because it’s alright for them to work together or whatever it is. It’s the same except that we sleep together, you know? I mean, not counting love and all the things on the side, just as a working relationship with her, it has all the benefits of working with another male artist and all the joint inspiration, and then we can hold hands too, right?

John Lennon, interview w/ Sandra Shevey. (Mid-June?, 1972)

Y: After the initial embarrassment, that how Paul is being very nice to me, he’s nice and a very, str- on the level, straight, sense, like wherever there’s something like happening at the Apple, he explains to me, as if I should know. And also whenever there’s something like they need a light man, or something like that he asks me if I know of anybody, things like that. And like I can see that he’s just now suddenly changing his attitude, like his being, he’s treating me with respect, not because it’s me, but because I belong to John. I hope that’s what it is because that would be nice. And I feel like he’s my younger brother or something like that. I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat, because there’s something definitely very strong with me, John, and Paul.

Yoko Ono, Revolution Tape, June 4th 1968

"We thought we'd do a number of an old estranged fiancé of mine called Paul.""

As a second choice from the Lennon- McCartney songbook, Elton suggested 'I Saw Her Standing There'. This appealed to John for its antiquity, and because its lead vocal always was sung by Paul. (...) There was a whisper of Royal Variety Show mischief when he announced "a number by an old estranged fiancé of mine called Paul" - no one yet knowing the estranged fiancés were long reconciled.

John Lennon: The Life, Philip Norman

You know, John loved Paul. No doubt about it. I remember once he said to me, “I’m the only person who’s allowed to say things like that about Paul. I don’t like it when other people do.” He didn’t like if other people said nasty things about Paul. And he always referred to Paul as his estranged fiancé and things like that, like he did on that [live] record ‘I Saw Her Standing There’ with Elton in Madison Square Garden.

1990: Former Beatles publicist Tony King

Married couple signatures

(and the reverse of that postcard...)

John publicly predicting Paul & Linda's divorce

You were right about New York! I do love it; it's the ONLY PLACE TO BE. (Apart from anything else, they leave you alone too!) I see you prefer Scotland! (MM) -- I'll bet you your piece of Apple you'll be living in New York by 1974 (two years is the usual time it takes you right?)

John's letter to Paul in Melody Maker, 1971 Finally, about not telling anyone that I left the Beatles—PAUL and Klein both spent the day persuading me it was better not to say anything—asking me not to say anything because it would 'hurt the Beatles'—and 'let's just let it petre out'—remember? So get that into your petty little perversion of a mind, Mrs. McCartney—the cunts asked me to keep quiet about it. Of course, the money angle is important—to all of us—especially after all the petty shit that came from your insane family/in laws—and GOD HELP YOU OUT, PAUL—see you in two years—I reckon you'll be out then—inspite of it all, love to you both, from us two.

John's personal letter to Linda & Paul, 1971

JOHN: Oh, [Klein]’d love it if Paul would come back. I think he was hoping he would for years and years. He thought that if he did something, to show Paul that he could do it, Paul would come around. But no chance. I mean, I want him to come out of it, too, you know. He will one day. I give him five years, I’ve said that. In five years he’ll wake up. YOKO: And people don’t understand, you know. There’s so many groups that constantly announce they’re going to split, they’re going to split, and they can announce it every year, and it doesn’t mean they’re going to split. But people don’t understand what an extraordinary position the Beatles are in, you know. In every way. They’re in such an extraordinary position that they’re more insecure than other people. And so Klein thinks he’ll give Paul two years Linda-wise, you know. And John said, “No, Paul treasures things like children, things like that. It will be longer.” And of course, John was right.

John Lennon and Yoko Ono, interview w/ Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld. (September, 1971)

[blingblong55]

Yours- Rodolfo, Alejandro, Philip NSFW

Based on a request:

absolutely obsessed with your writing! It's beautiful Feel free to ignore this ask, I just felt like sharing So F reader and the cod men (Alejandro, Rudy, Graves) it turns to something more 👀 It can be separate or all together

A/N: Went off on this one, sorry

F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, foursome, f!ngering, unprotected!sex, enemy!reader, CNC?, anal!sex, blowjob, rough!sex, masochist!reader, degrading, spit roast, some aftercare, some praise

"Why don't you tell us," Graves tries to convince you. You sit there, arms tied behind your back, the three men who once were enemies now finding you as their common one. Rudy approaches you, cups your face and smirks, "If you don't tell us, we'll have other means to get the information." But you don't budge, no matter how bad they need the codes, you won't betray your own team. Alejandro chuckles and the two other men nod at the other.

You couldn't deny it, the way they looked at you, how their eyes undressed you, how in their minds they already had you drunk off their cum and begging for more, you wanted what they needed. Rudy looks at you, "Do you really want it that way?" It was as if he could read your mind, the dark twisted side of you that wanted to be treated like a whore and slapped around as they all fucked into you. Your aching pussy, clenching around their thick cocks, cum leaking from all of your holes, being greedy and asking for more.

"It's the only way you'll get them from me." you tease. Graves' knife cuts through the fabric of your shirt, leaving Rudy to take it off, the three men watch as their fuck toy watches them with desire. Alejandro, with one movement, removes your bra, making your tits move, earning a now visible boner from Rudy. "Alright, Vaqueros, let's show her how much we need those codes." Graves said as his hand rubbed his boner, owning a groan from his mouth. Alejandro kisses your neck, and he begins to grope you.

You can't stop it, not when you want it. Graves undoes your trousers, Rudy pulls them down to your knees, gives Alejandro a nod and gently reaches for your soaked knickers. You squirm but that only earns a slap from Graves. "You stay still like the bitch you are." His voice was smooth but filled with anger. You look up, Alejandro and Graves with a grin stare at you, Rudy already beginning to finger you, his thick fingers making you moan. Graves make sure your gaze stays on them. Soon, both men kiss your neck, one pulling onto your hair to give them better access to your sensitive skin. Bite marks and hickeys begin to show, just the show these horny men needed. A little sex slave.

Rudy parts your legs and begins to lick your inner thighs, his fingers still fucking into your cunt. Graves forces your mouth open and spits in your mouth, he then makes Alejandro spit in your mouth and they force you to swallow it. Between moans and pants, you beg for more, earning a slap from Alejandro. "You take what we fucking give you," he slaps you again, Graves spits on your face and spreads it all over your face with his palm. Your face is red from the slaps. Rudy looks up, a smirk on his face as he asks, "Give me the first number for the code, mi niña." You try to speak but three fingers go inside of you, your eyes shut and you moan, your walls clench around him. "F-fuck.,..its..f-four" you mewl and throw your head back.

He chuckles and stops fingering you, which causes you to whine and move your hips. "More...more" you whine and moan. "Didn't you hear, you take what we fuckin' give you?" Graves slaps you again. They immediately get you off the chair and get you on all fours, "Look up for me, Chula." Alejandro commands and you do so. "Another number?" Rudy asks and you close your eyes as you feel Graves tease the tip of his cock on your wet cunt. "S-...six." You say and it earns a slow kiss from Rudy. He then moves away and sits on the side as he watches his two friends fuck you dumb. Alejandro makes you spit on his thick cock and then begins to fuck your throat.

You gag on it, your drool leaking out of your mouth. Rudy stroking his hard cock, watching from the best view in the room. Graves begins to fuck into your tight pussy, your slick making it easier for him to slide deeper into you. His hands on your hips, an occasional slap on your ass, his calloused hands never being gentle on you. Alejandro grabbing your face, fucking your throat raw, leaving you gasping for air each time. Meanwhile, Rudy takes a picture of this moment, making sure he sends this to the other two men in the room. He chuckles and then walks to you, his cock in your hand as your stroke it. Your cheeks are red as Alejandro gives it a few slaps. Your back is covered in spit, Graves ramming himself to you, his balls hitting you in the right places. Your moans and whimpers are muffled by the drool and pre-cum from Vargas.

You gag once more as the cum from Alejandro fills your greedy mouth, his sticky seed leaking out of your mouth, his tip sensitive but he keeps rubbing it. Once he finds the perfect opportunity, Rudy sticks his cock inside your mouth, your throat ached but you didn't want to stop it. Graves continues thrusting into you. Anytime you gagged or clenched on either of the men, you made the room fill with groans and moans. Graves continues to fuck into your tight cunt, and soon your walls are painted white with his seed, he grips onto you, fingers digging into your hips, and he gives you some final and slow thrusts, earning moans and groans from Rudy. He was too overstimulated by the view and came too quick.

Alejandro takes a seat on the chair, he guides your cum drunk body towards him, his dick pressed against your ass, splitting you open. You couldn't make up many words but the sensations were good. Your pleasure was not important to them but theirs was. Graves wanted to fuck your throat like the other men did, so as you sat on Alejandro's dick, his tip was teased by your tongue. Rudy fingers your clit and then with you guiding him, his cock begins to slowly fuck your cunt.

Your tight ass made it a perfect place for Alejandro to cum, his hands on your hips, guiding you as you continued to get fucked senseless by the other men. You moan and cry in pleasure. Your tears ran down, Graves being a desperate man, he slaps you. "You better give us those codes, you fucking bitch."

Rudy kissed your cheeks, Graves dick makes a bulge on your face, and you stare at Rudy with pleading eyes. He cleans your tears and kisses your forehead. Your nails dig at Alejandro's thighs. You in that instant had your orgasm. Your moans and cries are all muffled by slaps and drool. Cum leaks from all of you as the men continue fucking into you. Your back arching and legs shaking.

Once they all paint your walls and mouth white, they let you lay back. Alejandro stroking your hair, Rudy cleaning the mess between your thighs, which you squirm a lot from. Graves leaves kisses on your face, "Now, give us those codes, pretty girl." His hands caress your face, and Rudy massages your thighs.

Soon Graves and Alejandro leave the room, leaving you to Rudy. You laid your head on his lap, he stroked your hair and kissed your cheek. "Please, mi niña, please give me those codes." He grabbed your hand and from your fingers to your shoulder he kissed you. "You took all three of us so well, I'm sure if you give us those codes you'll get more." He murmurs and smiles softly. "They are in the...pocket of my trousers," you whisper back, to which he gives you a lukewarm bottle of water. "Here, please don't talk much, don't want you to loose that pretty voice of yours." He keeps stroking your hair as you lay there.

A/N: My head is too fucked to write a good ending...

[rreskk]

FROM LUST AT FIRST SIGHT

A small (smutty) oneshot - Trevor Philips/fem!reader

Happy Pride month!!!

Word count: 429 TW: Smut, perversion.

He stood in line again with the same pack of six in his hand. The beer changed frequently due to his fluid taste in alcohol. His cravings change after weekly benders from meth to cocaine, from sobriety to gas.

But his cravings of the sight in front of him remains.

Scanning individual items across the counter, he stared as you worked. There were many people in front of him as he happened to choose a busy day to swing by. His feet tapped the floor impatiently as well, but one by one, he was getting closer.

“That’s 5.99.” He heard you say to a little lady a few heads in front. It made his stomach churn. He wanted you, needed you; horrendously.

Even if he got nowhere, he tries again and again.

Your next shift; he’s there. He’s there with beer, sometimes cigarettes. He likes to keep you guessing. He was once a predictable customer but the moment you started to capture his interest, he wanted to see your eyes light up with every request he makes; from asking for a cheap lighter, or asking for the cigars no one buys.

He craves more and more of your face and every-time your fingers almost touch when he passes the dollar notes – he metaphorically cums until he’s hard enough to jerk off in his truck afterwards.

This happens each and every single time he enters that store, and until then, he grew fundamentally impatient, his hinting becoming harder and tenser until you couldn’t do anything but stare into his eyes and agree.

To fuck him.

So being stranded in his truck that sat in the empty parking lot after hours, you grabbed onto his shoulders and sighed into his ears, your body hugging his erection that had been tormenting him from the first time he ever caught glimpses of your face in that God-forbidden liquor store.

He’d whisper sweet nothings in your ear: “I need you. Let me have you,” whenever you increased your pace and worked his cock as the windows would steam up.

Each orgasm gets more addictive and whenever you see his face stand in the queue of your next shift, you knew what was coming, your eyes peeling onto his brown ones that were ridden with obsession and perversion. You always smirked to yourself before scanning the customer in front; the clock ticking until you found yourself in that truck once again. Hitting the seats and grinding into his cock. Your moans mingling with his. Your sweat feeding onto his cum.

From lust at first sight.

[cloudy-em]

Hi, that's me again😅

So... my other idea for Lip is: (again with relatively shy reader, because I love the thrope a lot) the reader and Lip are already in a relationship, one day someone teases her a little too much on the sexual theme (they haven't had sex yet so she's a bit insecure about it) he notices, he defends her, and once they're alone he starts to joke around, teases her in a sweet way, to make her feel more comfortable to talk about it. (She is not a virgin, she's just not that experienced)

Hope you like this one, if not. It's okay, I promise😂

another great idea! <3

personally i don't celebrate thanksgiving but i remember an episode from one of the earlier seasons of them doing a thanksgiving meal which is very convenient for this so it's loosely based on that

warnings: sexual comments, innuendos, Mickey's kinda being an ass but his comments aren't ill-intended

xxxxxxxxxx

The Gallagher household was bustling with activity. Fiona and V were in the kitchen, finishing up some last minute food preparations while Kevin was entertaining Carl and some of his friends in the yard with games. Ian was fixing drinks for everyone, desperately trying to find Debbie to figure out what she wanted (she was in her room, Mandy braiding her hair for her so she could impress Little Hank). Lip was finishing up a project for some sophomore who'd offered to pay him $100, and Liam was sitting patiently in his high chair. Y/N did her best to help out by setting the table, ensuring there were enough chairs and that everyone had all the proper utensils.

Mickey walked in the front door, beer in hand and flopped down, watching as Y/N reached across to the other side of the table to put a fork next to the plate. Mickey whistled like a boy in a 60s tv show.

"Damn, I bet you're used to that position," he quipped, taking another swig or his beer. Y/N looked at him, furrowing her eyebrows.

Mickey shrugged. "You know, cause I'm sure Philip bends you over pretty often." Y/N realized his implications, blushing and looking away. Mickey laughed, much more comfortable on the subject of sex than she was. "I'm sure Fiona's had to schedule time out of the house with the rest of the kids just to give you two some 'alone time'!"

Y/N grew increasingly uncomfortable. She wasn't a virgin or a puritan, but she and Lip hadn't had sex yet. They hadn't had a conversation about it or anything, but she wanted to wait a while and Lip had never brought it up with her.

Mickey laughed, "Look, kid, don't have to hide anything, we've all walked in on Lip with one of his hookups before." He paused for dramatic effect.

"Besides, it's always the shy one's who are the kinkiest!"

Y/N looked away, trying not to pay him any more mind and focus on her task. Lip walked down the stairs having finished with the sophomore's project, and immediately noticed something was off. His girlfriend was shy, sure, but she never bowed her head as low as she had.

"Hey, Lip!" Mickey called, teasing. Lip looked at him, eyebrows raised in expectation. "Maybe you should go out back and have quickie with your girl, get 'er to stop bein' such a priss." Lip realized what was wrong, walking over to his blushing girlfriend and placing his arm around her waist.

"Fuck off," Lip sighed. "Y/N isn't a priss, she just doesn't think the whole world needs to know about her sex life like you and Ian seem to."

Mickey raised his arms in surrender, "'Kay, fuck, Gallagher, it was all teasing, no harm meant!" He got up from his seat and went to the kitchen, presumably to grab another beer.

"C'mon, baby," Lip said softly, squeezing Y/N's waist and guiding her up to his room. He sat with her on the edge of Ian's bed, holding her hand and rubbing his calloused thumb on the back of it.

"I'm sorry he was messin' with you, baby," he whispered. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. Anything I can do for you?" He emphasized his apology by pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

"No, just," she paused, thinking about how she wanted to phrase her next sentence. "Do you ever, I don't know, feel like I'm holding you back?"

Lip had a puzzled look on his face. "Whatd'ya mean, hon?"

"Well with like, you know," she sighed, pulling her hand away from Lip to hide her face. "We haven't had sex and I feel like that's my fault." She heard him chuckle quietly, her embarrassment seeping into her soul even more.

"Baby," he cooed, wrapping his arms around her in a hug as she continued to hide her face. "It's nobody's fault. We haven't talked about it yet! That's the most important part of any relationship, and that's taken me a while to learn. I figured you'd bring it up when you were ready. I didn't want you to feel pressured."

She looked up at him, eyes wide and glazed over, on the verge of tears because of her embarrassment. "Really?" she asked.

"Really," he nodded like he had given an order to the universe.

"I thought that maybe you weren't attracted to me or that you thought I wasn't good enough," she whispered.

"Me? Not attracted to you? Aw babe!" he laughed, nose touching hers in a loving exchange. "A pretty thing like you deserves to be worshipped. When we have sex, I'm takin' my time with you."

She giggled at his compliment, rolling her eyes in disbelief.

"Oh, what you don't believe me? I've wanted to sleep with pretty girl forever, I just wanted to make sure she's ready for me," he smiled at her. The more he complimented her, easing in sex references, the more comfortable she felt on the subject. He had waited for her! He didn't think she was a prude or anything, he just had respect for her; he cared for her. She felt warmth in her chest as she processed the conversation. Lip kissed her nose briefly, helping her stand up from the bed.

"And try not to let Mickey get you down. He's just like that and assumes everyone else is comfortable talking about their sex life the way he does. I'll warn him to dial it down when he's around you, though," Lip told her, looking into her eyes to make sure she knew he was serious.

"Thanks, Lip. I love you," she told him, hugging him again.

"I love you, too, Y/N. Now, we'll talk more about us and our boundaries and moving forward later," he told her, trying to help her be more comfortable discussing sex with him. "But right now I think we've got a dinner to be at."

xxxxxx

thanks for reading! sorry about me projecting a lil bit in lip and reader's conversation lol, i just think it's really important to have these conversations with your partners and i think lip, despite being all tough and "not sappy" (but he totally is) really cares about discussing boundaries with his partner

have a great day!

[kinardsevan]

🤍

🤍 kiss at the wedding / milestone

Evan chuckles as Tommy tugs his hand, dipping out of the reception hall and around the corner, down one hallway and then another, until they’re far enough away that none of their guests have eyes on them. ‘Need help with my cufflinks’ he’d said, conveniently peeling off his navy suit jacket as they’d walked out of the hall a minute before. Because sure, absolutely, he was going to change into something more casual. 

Tommy spins them around until Evan’s back is flat against the wall, smirking at him as he presses his body against the younger man’s, brushing his nose up against Evan’s. 

“Feel like I haven’t seen you all day,” he murmurs, his voice husky with want. Why did they agree to no sex the week of the wedding? 

“That’s because you haven’t,” Evan replies, sliding his hands around his husband’s hips, his long, nimble fingers squeezing both ass cheeks. Tommy moans softly, their foreheads pressed gently together as he grinds his hips up against Evan’s, ghosting his lips over the watermelon pink of Evan’s, his breath hot on the younger man’s mouth. Evan moans back. “God, Tommy, you can’t do that.” 

“Can’t do what,” he rasps, tilting his head and nuzzling their noses again. His bottom lip brushes over Evan’s top, and the younger man practically mewls, pulling the older man tighter against his body. 

“Fuck,” Evan whispers. 

“Really just needed a few minutes to do this,” Tommy replies back just as softly. And then his lips are fully on Evan’s, fiery and aggressive, his tongue lapping inside like he hasn’t eaten in a week, like they didn’t make out the entire drive over from the park after the wedding party photos were done. Evan moans into his mouth and Tommy’s hand is firm on his spine, keeping him close. He can still taste the cupcake Evan was just splitting with Jee not five minutes before. 

When Tommy starts to pull away, Evan moves with him, his right arm coming up to Tommy’s jaw and holding him close, practically trying to devour his new husband. Still, eventually they have to break apart for air, and Tommy’s head tilts down, eyes closed, letting the moment last a little longer as Evan stares at him with that same level of wonder he had after their first kiss. 

“God damn. Sometimes I don’t think forever is going to be long enough,” he murmurs, watching as Tommy’s eyes slowly flutter open. Tommy tilts his head up then, a smile crossing his lips. 

“Hopefully it’s a decent start,” he replies. He leans in, kisses Evan once more, softer and chaste. “Now get me out of these damn cuff links so people don’t think we just snuck off to have a quickie.” 

Evan quirks an eyebrow at him, the smirk on his face growing as he reaches for Tommy’s left arm. “I mean-..” 

“Evan Philip Buckley-Kinard,” Tommy admonishes. “We will dismiss ourselves from our reception in twenty minutes like respectable adults.” 

Evan just waggles his eyebrows in response, tilting his hips towards Tommy’s again, pressing a hand into the older man’s spine once more and grinding, just once. Tommy groans. 

“Twenty minutes,” Evan repeats cheekily. 

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | January 8th-14th 2024

TWO MONTHS UNTIL SEASON 7!!!

I'm sorry it's late and I'm sorry if I missed anyone but my ao3 history was sortof a mess 😩 I think maybe some userscript I downloaded is fucking up my history. oh well. (or else someone has hacked my ao3 account and has been reading House M.D. fanfic?!?!? (how the fuck did I even get in my history, I don't even remember searching for anything that had House fics in the results wtf))

Complete

Followed By Ghosts by itsanapothecary (Canon Divergent, S1-S2 | 21K | Teen): Instead of hiding the truth about Daniel from their children, Margaret and Philip memorialize their lost son in every one of their remaining children's accomplishments. Growing up, neither Maddie nor Buck felt like they could escape the shadow of their brother. When Buck finds the 118, he gets a chance to be his own person, although the looming attention from his parents and weight of expectations threatens to jeopardize what he's built in Los Angeles.

no harm, no foul by callmenewbie/ @callmenewbie (Getting Together | 5K | Mature): Eddie knows how Buck feels. Buck knows how Eddie feels. So why is Eddie giving him the cold shoulder instead of talking about it?

what to do when evan buckley breaks into your house at 3:17 in the morning by oklahoma/ @malewifediaz (Love Confessions | 3K | Teen): After a night out drinking with Maddie, Buck (kind of) breaks in to Eddie’s house.

Wait For It by oliviacirce (PWP, Post-S6E6: Cursed | 8K | Explicit): Buck kind of liked not jerking off.

in a fix by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Getting Together, PWP | 4K | Explicit): Buck gets himself into a bit of a sticky situation, and Eddie helps him out.

we were lucky once (could be lucky again) by hattalove/ @hattalove (Post-Break Up | 1K | Teen): which they're not together anymore, but they can't sleep apart.

Mark Me Like a Bloodstain (Burning Red) by sirencalls/ @usersiren (Vampire Eddie, Post-S4, PWP | 3K | Explicit): “Eddie, you’re freezing,” Buck says, worry creeping into his tone. “Eddie, we need to get you to the hospital—” “No.” His voice is echoey and strange, definitively not human, and he picks up on the way Buck’s pulse quickens. Fuck, he’s scaring Buck. The human part of him is ashamed, guilty for making Buck ever be afraid of him. The vampire part of him is delighted, is even more wanting because of it, and that’s why he calls himself a monster.

Kinktober 2021 series by sirencalls/ @usersiren (PWP | 31 works | 68K | Explicit)

all that is you makes up all that is me by soyxunxperdedor/ @messyhairdiaz (Post-S6E11 | 1K | General): “I was just checking if you’re ready…” Eddie says faintly, trailing off as his eyes track the path of the lightning seared across Buck’s skin. -or- In the aftermath of a lightning strike, Buck and Eddie have a conversation.

Long Overdue by mansikka (PWP | 3K | Mature): Eddie realizes his feelings for Buck are more than platonic; what's he supposed to do now?

kiss me, kiss me (i don't know if i can let you go) by ipretendtobesane/ @useramor (Getting Together, Accidental Kissing | 10K | General): If anyone ever asks- they were both drunk. Eddie knows they weren’t, he and Buck don’t like to drink during the week, regardless of whether or not they work the next day. If they are working, they don’t want to be out of it on the job, and if they’re not they don’t want to be out of it when Christopher wakes up the next morning at 7:00am with more energy than either of them can handle. But there’s not really a good explanation otherwise. No other way to explain why, as Buck was walking out the door, Eddie leaned in and gave him a soft kiss goodnight.

til there was you by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Hurt Buck, Married Buddie | 16K | Mature): In which Buck's appendix tries to kill him in the middle of a busy shift, and Eddie has to stage a dramatic rescue.

spread a little christmas cheer by soyxunxperdedor/ @messyhairdiaz (Post-S3E10: Christmas Spirit, PWP | 1K | Explicit): Eddie has a realization at the Christmas party and goes the wrong way with it.

do you love me? all you gotta do is say yes by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Friends to Fiances, Crack | 3K | Teen): “It’s always pretty fun to see a former fuckboy from your grad school era bootycall list all domestic and settled down.” or, two boy best friends and an ex lover walk into a grocery store. everyone is on their normalest behaviour.

🔥 Echoes of Your Name by sirencalls/ @usersiren (Canon Divergence, PWP, Sex Worker Buck | 9K | Explicit): Of course he’s immediately wary of it. Porn videos have never worked for Eddie, so why would the audio version of them be any different? It’s the same strangers faking the same moans and whines as the other actors, just without a pretty face to go with it. Eddie thinks it’ll almost be less effective—seeing every tiny reaction that someone has to what you’re doing to them is part of the fun—so he doesn’t have high expectations. He doesn’t expect it to work.

marry me, eddie diaz by elisela/ @elisela (Marriage Proposal | 1K | General): There’s a long silence, and then, “you do that a lot,” Eddie says, looking over at him strangely. “I do what a lot?” “Ask me to marry you,” Eddie says. “I know it’s just a joke, but I feel like—” he stops and shakes his head, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

sit present in the darkness by elisela (Post-Shooting, Established Buddie | 4K | General): In the midst of stories about their jobs, catching up on what the kids have said, and making endless fun of each other, Eddie’s sitting at his seat with his phone face down on the table in front of him. Occasionally it will buzz and he’ll look around the table, pick it up when he thinks no one is watching. He types something quickly, looks over his shoulder at the kid’s table—where Buck has been since the food was brought to them—and puts it down again. Face down. Karen knows this game. She’s played it before, almost lost.

WIP

🔥 Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Small Miracles AU, Angel Buck | 13/? | 31K | Teen): Buck is the Fallen Angel of Petty Temptation, who has been tasked with tempting human Eddie Diaz to sin and enjoy life, but just a little. He thinks the job will be easy - get in, get out, go back to Peru to continue messing around with eternity. But when Buck arrives in Los Angeles, he finds Eddie is harder to tempt than expected, and more compelling than Buck had hoped.

🔥 and if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Canon Divergent Season 6, Friends with Benefits | 2/18 | 9K | Explicit): or, an alternate look at season 6 where buck and eddie have been casually sleeping together since before the beginning of the season. somehow, this changes both everything and nothing at all.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 106/? | 290K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Demon Buck, Canon Divergent | 9/? | 15K | Teen): Buck is a demon with the power to help with pregnancy, childbirth, and infant health. When the Buckleys make a deal asking for someone to help 'save their baby', Buck leaps at the chance as it will give him what he's always wanted: a life on earth. But demon deals are tricky and neither of them gets quite what they're after. This is Buck's journey as he navigates growing up on earth and remembering how to help those in need.

🔥 for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes/ @kananjarus (Canon Divergent, Post-Apocalyptic, Station Eleven Crossover | WIP | 12/? | 105K | Mature | Warning: Violence): The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.

🔥 Right Where You Left Me by hyacinthusbloom/ @thebloomingheather (Canon Divergent, Post-S4, Angst | 21/? | 106K | Explicit | ❗️Warning: Rape/Non-con): "Therapy?" Eddie suggests. Buck almost laughs, but instead says, "I'll go if you go." Because he had fully expected him to be chicken shit, to disagree, and instead Eddie, the bastard, replies, "Deal." Or Buck never tells anyone that he slept with his therapist and deals with the butterfly effect years later.

🔥 a foundation of trust and love we cannot see by lemonzestywrites/ @lemonzestywrites (FWB, BDSM, Sub Eddie, Dom Buck | 2/17 | 24K | Explicit): “It’s like I want to explore it and dive into it, but it’s not exactly like I’m seeing someone to try this all out with,” he explains, doing his best to keep down the annoyed huff that threatens to escape him at every other word. Buck nods to himself before steadily going silent. For a minute, Eddie thinks that this is the end of their conversation. “I can show you if you’d like.” Eddie nearly chokes on his beer.

Love Ends. by rowan_wood (Exes to Lovers | 5/17 | 7K | Explicit): But what if it doesn't?

Re-read

🔥 Relationship Advice from Complete Strangers Online by HMSLusitania/ @hmslusitania (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): When he gets home for the night, Buck turns to the one source of information that’s never let him down: the internet. But where does one go for relationship advice from complete strangers online? Which is how, ten minutes later, he finds himself on Reddit with a shiny new account and username. It takes him a while after that to craft his question for r/Relationships, but he thinks he’s got it pretty accurately conveyed before he hits post.

🔥 You Could Be The One I Keep by browney3dgirl6/ @hoodie-buck (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 6K | Teen): Eddie finally get's up the nerve to ask Buck out, his best friend accepting much easier than Eddie ever dreamed. Things are better than ever between them, the two of them becoming even closer, going out on several dates—only problem? Buck has no idea they're dating, like not even the slightest clue.

[secret-cod-thoughts]

Philip Graves.... What a fucking bottom slut...

Imagine, one day this mother fucker winds you up so far on a mission, being cocky and an absolute brat, yapping out commands like a dog, saying how he has never worked with a more incompetent Shadow...

Oh dear, that was the last straw for you...

Imagine, you're waiting for him in his office, a pissed off look on your face, leaning back against his desk, a pair of handcuffs in your hands. Once Philip walked into his office and saw you with an intimidating and angry expression, he knew he was fucked.

Next thing he knew, he was bent over his desk, his pants down just enough for you to ram your cock/strap-on into him, his hands handcuffed behind his back while he whines that your size is too big for him, constantly slamming into his prostate, his eyes crossed and his brain fried from the rough treatment...

(I'm-m sorry, fuck, I'm s-orry, I won't whine again, I won't defy you Ma'am/Sir, fuck your cock/strap is huge...)

[babygirl-diaz]

The Price You Pay (TW: Domestic Violence Reference)

(There is no actual domestic violence but some characters think there is)

***

“You were getting hurt as a kid and that’s exactly what you’re doing now!” Mom yelled over the phone. 

Kick. Duck. Punch. Duck. 

“You’re not a child anymore, Evan. Do you even want to see your 40th birthday?” Dad decided to chime in. 

Kick. Duck. Punch. Duck. 

“No, I don’t think he does, Philip.” Buck could hear the disappointment in his mother’s voice. “He doesn’t care if he lives or dies. He doesn’t care what happens to us if he’s gone. What happens to Maddie? To his boyfriend.” 

Kick. Du- SHIT. 

“Keep your head in the game, Evan,” Tommy told him. “If this was an actual match, you could have gotten hurt.” 

Buck nodded and wiped the sweat off his brows with the back of his hand. He bounced back and forth, while carefully watching Tommy’s movements. 

“Maybe if Daniel was alive-” 

“Well, he’s not is he?!” Buck interrupted his mother before she could finish that sentence

“Well, maybe if he was then we wouldn’t have to live with this- this constant state of panic,” Mom’s voice was suddenly cold. 

Buck went quiet for a moment when it hit him what she was trying to say. “You really wish it was him alive instead of me, don’t you?” 

“Maybe I do…” 

“Margaret!” Dad gasped. “Evan, she didn’t mean tha-” 

“FUCK!” 

Tommy’s scream brought Buck out of his thoughts and he saw his boyfriend lying on the floor nursing his nose.

“Shit!” Buck hissed and immediately got down by his boyfriend’s side. “Tommy, Tommy, hey, you okay?” When Buck touched Tommy’s face, he felt blood and that’s when he realized that Tommy’s nose was bleeding. Turns out, Buck had kicked him in the face and potentially broken his nose. “Tommy, can you sit up for me?” Buck got into first responder mode and helped Tommy sit up, with his back to the corner post. “Lean forward and pinch the bridge of your nose.” When Tommy followed his instructions, Buck rushed to find an ice pack and a towel. He came back with them and gave the ice pack to Tommy, asking him to put it on his nose as he helped him up. 

“Shit, baby, I am so sorry,” Buck felt so bad. 

“It’s okay,” Tommy replied and wrapped an arm around Buck’s shoulder. 

“Come on, I’ll take you to the ER,” Buck told Tommy and led him out to his jeep. He helped his boyfriend inside and closed the door before getting into the driver’s side. He kept looking over at Tommy to make sure he wasn’t choking on his blood as he rushed them to the ER. Once there, they filled out a few forms and then waited for the nurse to call them in. Buck kept a protective arm around Tommy’s shoulders and kept checking on him. 

“Thomas Kinard?” The nurse called out

Both Buck and Tommy got up and went to her. Buck kept holding onto Tommy’s hand and the nurse gave them a wary look. 

Once they were in the examination room, the nurse asked them a few questions. “How did you get hurt?” 

“Oh I am just clumsy and fell down the stairs,” Tommy replied. 

Buck furrowed his eyebrows and wondered why Tommy didn’t just tell her the truth. When he looked over at his boyfriend, Tommy gave him an assuring look. 

The nurse didn’t look too convinced but told them the doctor would be in soon after asking them a couple more questions. 

Once she left Buck looked over at Tommy again. “Why didn’t you tell her the truth? It was an accident.” 

“You’re already feeling so guilty-” 

Buck was about to protest when Tommy stopped him. “Don’t even try to lie to me. I know you and I know this is killing you on the inside. I didn’t want to make you feel worse in front of her.” 

Buck sighed and sat down beside Tommy on the examination table and wrapped an arm around him, kissing the side of his head. “I am sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just-” Before Buck could finish that sentence, someone cleared their throat and Buck looked up to see the doctor standing there. He hadn’t even heard her come in. 

The doctor asked Tommy questions and then examined his nose and his face. “Well, it’s definitely broken,” she pointed out. “I’ll write you some painkillers and we’re going to do a few tests to make sure you don’t have a head injury.” 

“My head feels fine,” Tommy pointed out. 

“It’s just a precaution,” the doctor replied and gave Buck a look he couldn’t quite decipher. 

Tommy was soon taken for tests and Buck waited outside the room. Once they finished, they were asked to wait in the examination room. Buck stayed close to Tommy, drowning in guilt but trying to stay strong for his boyfriend. He held his hand and kept pressing kisses to his forehead and temple now and then. 

When the doctor returned, she told them that the results looked good and there wasn’t any injury to Tommy’s head. But then she did something odd. “Um… Do you mind waiting outside? I just- I have a few more things I need to check and then Mr. Kinard can go home.”

“Why can’t he just stay?” Tommy asked. 

“Tommy, it’s okay. I’ll go get the jeep in the meantime,” Buck told his boyfriend and kissed the top of his head before leaving. 

He waited in the jeep with his hands gripping the steering wheel as his mind kept going back to what his mother- no- what MARGARET said earlier. He let go of the wheel and sighed rubbing his forehead. He already accidentally hurt Tommy because of her. He didn’t want to dwell on what she said and make things worse. 

When Tommy finally came out, there was an amused look on his face. He was clutching onto something and twisting it between his hands. He then shoved it into his hoodie pocket. 

“You good?” Buck asked Tommy when he got in. 

“Apart from the busted nose, yeah,” Tommy chuckled. 

When Buck frowned at him, the older man leaned in and kissed his cheek. 

Whatever Tommy had slipped into his hoodie pocket earlier was sticking out and Buck noticed it said something about abuse. His eyes widened and he pulled out the paper to realize it was a domestic violence pamphlet for victims. 

Buck's heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. “They- they think I am abusing you?” Buck asked on the verge of tears. 

Tommy immediately cupped his face and shook his head. “They’re idiots. I told them it was an accident but they just thought I was lying. In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have told them that I fell down the stairs,” he said cringing. 

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Buck told him panicking a little. “I swear, Tommy. It was genuinely an accident. I was thinking about what Margaret and Philip said to me and I just-” 

“Hey, hey, hey, you don’t have to explain anything…” Tommy assured him. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. I was there, remember?” He leaned in and tried pressing a kiss to Buck’s lips but Buck pulled away. 

“Punch me,” Buck told him. 

“What?” Tommy asked furrowing his eyebrows

“Punch me. Let’s make it equal,” Buck replied. 

“Okay, now that would definitely be considered domestic violence.” 

“It won’t because I am asking you to punch me,” Buck insisted. “Just punch me!” 

“NO!” Tommy yelled and cupped Buck’s face. “That’s not how this relationship works. I’m not punching you on purpose when I know the kick was accidental.” 

“But-” 

“But nothing,” Tommy told him. “I love you, Evan, and I would never hurt you on purpose. Just like I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” 

Buck wrapped his arms around Tommy and pulled him into a tight hug. “I love you so much. I am so sorry.” 

“Shhh… It’s okay, baby. I’m okay. I promise,” Tommy said kissing the side of Buck’s head. 

Buck buried his face in the crook of Tommy’s neck and took in his smell. “I love you,” he said again. 

[brazenautomaton]

inspired by that dogpost, thinking again about the idea of some kind of Interdimensional Council Of Reed Richardses (or whatever character that's equivalent) that had to establish a veil of ignorance rule that they NEVER intervene in anyone else's world for ideological good vs evil reasons and are EXCLUSIVELY about existential threats to the entire planet, galaxy, universe, etc -- because when you first discover alternate universes with alternate Reeds you don't know how many of them are going to be evil and if you make it a point to go intervene in another world to "set things right" and turns out the majority don't have the same definition of "right" you have invited Trouble into your universe. so you have to be nice to and cooperate with Nazi Reed and he has to be nice to and cooperate with you and with Israeli Reed and Mixed-Race Reed and whoever because if push comes to shove neither of you actually know who has the majority (and people are reluctant to reveal what kind of ideology dominates their world lest they make themselves a target, or maybe their ideology isn't dominant in the world, etc.)

like ideological Dark Forest Theory or whatever.

so then what happens when Nazi Reed reports that Galactus is coming to eat Earth-1488 and kill everyone, all of the pure white Aryan Nazis that dominate the world and all of the inferior mud people they're enslaving and genociding, and he needs your help to stop it?

apparently Nazi Reed has helped out in worlds where tolerant liberalism is the order of the day, and he was clearly disgusted by all of it and was a huge asshole to everyone about their racial inferiority but he got in there and was vital in fighting off Kang or who the fuck ever and didn't try to spread Nazism or undermine the majority ideology of tolerant liberalism. he just bitched about how long the shower he'd have to take to wash off all the Jew Juice (Jewce) would be.

Now he needs your help to save the entirety of his Philip K. Dick-ass planet from the Devourer of Worlds, to walk around in streets covered in Nazi propaganda extolling the volksreich or whatever, ignore the ghettos, ignore the ongoing genocide, don't publicly say anything negative about the regime, and work with the extremely unethical Nazi Scientists who have all of this world's data about what Galactus is doing and how to thwart it. The reciprocal agreement you signed with all of your counterparts says that you absolutely cannot do anything to undermine or supplant Nazism while you're there, and this guy has shown he obeyed that rule.

What is the right thing to do here? Do you refuse to help, do you refuse to help without having some demands met, do you help and then once Galactus is defeated go to war against Nazi Earth in the name of freedom, do you help but while you're there you try to covertly aid the resistance or do things to topple the regime that aren't obvious, or do you just bite your tongue, beat Galactus, and wish his planet a Reich-tastic day?

Does your decision change if you know something about the split of evil vs good universes? If you're 75% sure that the majority of universes are good and would support you? If you knew for a fact that the split was 50-50? If 75% of universes were evil, but also hated each other's evil ideologies a bunch? What if it was just recently proven that the vast and overwhelming number of universes are good-aligned, but only after everyone agreed to the Pact and Nazi Reed has been instrumental in saving like ten universes?

(Assume the number of universes is large but not infinite, infinity makes things break. New universes are periodically discovered but not consistently or predictably.)

[frogchiro]

Cowboy Casanova

Day 2 entry!! Yay! Today we have our favorite american slasher, Graves! I hope you enjoy reading♡

Warnings: nsfw, mentions of blood, death and a tiny bit of gore but not too much, it's slasher Graves, general pervy, creepy behavior and just kinda toxic and obsessive Graves, stalking

Philip Graves is a particular man. Coming from an extremely rich and privileged background, basically from the beginning he had or would get everything he would ever want. When he wanted his very own horse at 8? His papa got him one from the best breeder. He wanted a fancy pick up truck at 16 to show off to his peers the moment he got his license? His parents gave him the keys with a smile. He wanted to bang a girl when he was in college? Here she was, hopping on his dick an hour later.

But the thing about Philip Graves was that he's a very jealous and possessive man. He might be called a spoiled brat born with a silver spoon in his mouth but he jealously covets and protects what he cherishes; the gifted horse had the best everything it could ever want and it peacefully died of old age, the pick up truck was thoroughly loved and taken care of and is still in his garage used for recreational rides, as for the girlfriend? Well...yeah sure he dumped her like a week after but at least he snatched her right from under some shit-for-brains rugby player.

But as years passed by nothing seemed to excite him anymore, sure he had his fun in many ways, even picked up a new hobby or two, but even the screams and begging of his victims didn't do the trick anymore. Now that he's pushing 40, Philip's mind starts to wander to places he never thought it would; a pretty floral sundress or skirt moving around his home, a sweet smile and soft eyes greeting him when he gets home from wrangling his ranch, the delicious smell of a nutricious, fatty dinner wafting through the kitchen and the pitter patter of tiny feet clumsily running towards him, a flash of a tiny pink dress jumping at him. A family. Something Philip never thought about in his youth but he guesses the 'biological clock' wasn't complete bullshit as he thought. The problem was that no one really interested him, no one made his heart squeeze and his cock stir to make them the candidate for Philip's wife and those certainly weren't the women in town. No, it had to be someone perfect, a perfect wife, mother, partner for life but there was no one...

Well... his problem solved itself quicker than he thought with your arrival in town. A sweet looking young thing, you looked just about 20 and like a frightened doe when he first saw you get out of the bus one evening with just a measly backpack and a suitcase, not nearly enough to be moving in here but later when he did his own research and asked the local sheriff after you he found out you were apparently staying here and Philip would be lying if he said that his cock didn't pulse in his jeans with happiness.

He didn't believe in love at first sight, fuck no, that was some bullshit in those terrible romantic comedies and such, he didn't have time for this but with you? The blonde man knew you would be trouble with your big, doe eyes, soft body and those broad hips he was sure would carry a baby for him, his baby...

He found put that you were renting a room in old Margery's home in exchange for working in her orchard and helping her around her little farm. Pff, if he had it his way, if only you came to him for help, you wouldn't ever have to lift a finger again, just be sweet and nice and cook him dinner buuut well, here you are.

You may ask, how did he find out all these things about you? Well the thing about Philip is that he's very persistent and once he sets his sight on something, he will get it even if he has to resolve to some...unethical methods like stalking although he'd rather call it 'gathering information for good, future use' which leads you now to the present where the blonde man is hiding behind some bushes and trees to look at you getting ready for bed.

He still can't believe his luck, your room is on the upper floor facing the dark orchard where especially at night like now, Philip can go undetected and he takes full advantage of it. He watches you undress from your pretty pastel sundress, your tits and soft tummy on show, not to mention your hips and thighs.

"Ohh you're just asking for it darlin', ain't ya?" Philip growled lowly to himself as he watched you slip into a nightgown, a modest thing but still pretty plus it showed off a lot of your cleavage and Graves licked his lips before biting his lip at the thought of suckling your cute nipples, marking up your tits so that everyone would know that you're his-but what is that? What are you doing, you little songbird?

Philip's train of thoughts was abruptly cut short when he saw you dimming your lights and slipping a hand under your nightgown, the other one slipping off the shoulder strap down and starting to finger at your nipple. From this distance and due to the darkness around he couldn't see well but he saw your brows draw in tight, your pretty lips falling open to gasp as your fingers worked probably on your clit.

"You little fuckin' tease..." came growled from Philip, his teeth gnashing at the display, a sudden weave of possessiveness washing over him. Suddenly he's jealous of everything, even your bed and nightgown that they get to witness your pleasure and not him. Not your future husband and father of your babies, it doesn't matter that you haven't formally met yet, he will make sure you will soon.

For now though he needs to retreat, go back to his huge but lonely and quiet house and jerk off until his cock is red and raw, balls empty and his belly and chest splattered with his sperm that he grumbles should be inside you but he has to make do for now.

Just you wait little love, soon you will be by his side and then no one will even think of coming between you♡

[anitalianfrie]

so, after trials and tribulations and many many insults thrown the way of bad quality vhs, i proudly present you: the translation of the video of vale's eighteen birthday!

when there were long pauses between the dialogue, i put the timestamp before it. my comments are between [] .

video and translation under the cut :)

Vale (VO): the “Valentino Rossi production” presents, in collaboration with the idiots of Tavullia, this epic footage. 

Vale(VO): Valentino Rossi, the man, the rider, the moron, turns eighteen 

Vale(VO): there’s a new name in the register of the Carabinieri [cops] of Tavullia, it’s him, Valentino Rossi, the kid with a man’s body and the IQ of a boiled zucchini. He gets from his father a great shaft and the brain of the chicken he used to keep on a leash. Valentino Rossi, the man, the rider, the moron, when he gets interviewed he says about himself “I’m Valentino Rossi” and then he loses his focus. He doesn’t like to define himself a nepo baby because he doesn’t know what it means. The one who merges the spirit of a rider with the hair of a folk drummer. Everybody seeks him, everybody calls him, but once they get to talk with him they mourn the loss of the answering machine. 

Vale(VO): contacted by the Philip Morris International for a contract of billions, he declines the offer because he doesn’t smoke. Valentino Rossi, he rocks! And the Aprilia makes a wheelie. 

Vale(VO): the next one will be his second year of competing in the world championship, but he still thinks he’s riding on a minibike, and he’s perpetually desolated because after the chequered flag he can’t find the turtle on his helmet. Nowadays, he’s the only rider paid by the Japanese to stay with Aprilia. Let’s enter his kingdom, his home, thing that sometimes he can’t do because he topples over in his ape car in the parking lot below. 

(4.44) 

Boy1: Marshall 

Boy2: Oh, let me look at the video 

Boy1: Marshall 

Boy2: C’mon, get out of there 

Boy1: Marshall. What then? 

Vale: How are you? 

Boy2: Nice, with the Marshall starting 

Vale: Cosmic 

[i have honestly no clue what this conversation is supposed to mean. It might be an inside joke, or they could be taking about an actual marshal of the Carabinieri] 

Int: Valentino Rossi, how does it feel to be eighteen? 

Vale: eh, how does it feel... eighteen years old, it’s an important age, we’ve all become a bit older, I have – rather than we have – gotten more mature compared to when i was younger, you don’t do the things you used to anymore, we’re all way calmer, basically now is... now it’s time to leave the fun behind and to get serious 

(6.26) 

Vale(behind the camera): Come on! Super risky! 

Vale: Do it here! 

Vale: Go again! 

Vale: Now it’s sure [unintelligible] get down! 

Vale (after the guy “jumps” with the bike): You need, you need the feeler gauge to measure how high he jumped! We measure it with gauge! (laughs) 

Boy: even the wheels! 

Boy: vale? 

Vale: eh? 

Boy: turn it off 

Boy: incredibly- 

Vale: wait, wait- okay, now go, a comment on this sensational jump- super high, a jump out of this world, done by Michele 

Boy: incredibly, the wheels touched the ground even on the [unintelligible] 

Michele: that’s thanks to the suspensions, really... optimal, that let me- 

Vale: a question Michi, wait- 

Michele: -all this speed, and... 

Vale: I’m zooming on you... but how did you do it? 

Michele: Oh God, i don’t- 

Vale: fucking hell, it was sensational, a- 

Michele: the good thing is- 

Vale: -mind-blowing jump 

Michele: did you see how i got down? 

Vale: ah- fuck, no 

Michele: you didn’t see it? 

Vale: it was out of the thingy, out of the lens and.... now we try the calibre and we measure [unintelligible] 

Voices: Whooo, let’s go!  

Vale: show off!! 

Vale: now we will show you a trick, that even Orfei [name of a famous circus]- Orfei came to Tavullia and asked us to perform it. Look. It’s on the verge of the unpredictable 

(8.46) 

Boy1: Oh god 

Boy2: another Panda 

Boy2: three motor scooters, incredible, incredible! 

[bittersigns]

two thousand words of ian making his husband feel good and loved. no plot found here, just self-indulgent p0rn.

It's to the quietness around the bedroom that Ian slowly awakes to.

He feels himself being forcefully pulled away from sweet unconsciousness, and, refusing to pry open his eyes just yet, he lets his limbs roll over groggily to the side. Stretching his arms out a bit, Ian frowns as he nuzzles his face on his pillowcase because the mattress is cold and the spot beside him is empty.

Fighting off the sleepy haze from his brain is an arduous task, but he manages it, although begrudgingly so. He is facing the wall when his eyes blink open, and just like he thought, there is not a warm, sturdy body next to him, being embraced by his arms. 

Instead, there is a soft, Mickey-scented pillow, and Ian can't help but to grumble discontentedly. He inhales his husband's deep, slightly sweet cologne as his eyes shut for a second. It's not physically him, but his smell is enough for now, and Ian is drifting off before he can even think twice about it. 

Fuck it, it's sunday anyway.

Eventually, the bane of his existence—the fucking alarm in his phone—has him getting his ass up, and he scowls at the reminder that flashes on his screen and turns it off. Fucking “meds!!!!”. As if he needs a fucking reminder.

In the bathroom, he takes a piss and brushes his teeth, takes a brief moment to look in the mirror, rubbing a hand across the stubble growing along his jaw and deciding that he can deal with that later. Probably get Mickey to shave it off for him again, if he's in a good mood today, or maybe let it grow into a beard. He's been thinking about doing it someday.

Shaking his head, he downs his meds and checks the watch on his wrist. 8:08AM, it reads, like it always does because he fucking nails routine, and his own mood only seems to only get better. Sure, it would be even better if he had woken up cuddling with his husband. A good morning bj, perhaps. Get nice and handsy while they are still sleepy and stuff.

But, somehow, finding him in the kitchen, wearing only a pair of boxers and a shirt and fumbling with their brand new coffee maker has Ian's good mood skyrocket to perfection, and he's smiling as he creeps behind him, his hands firm as they slide down to hold Mickey by his hips.

“You're up early,” he says in lieu of a greeting, and the quality of his voice is slightly raspy from sleeping, deeper than it normally is.

Mickey merely rolls his eyes, and Ian knows he is smiling too, feels it as he leans to tenderly kiss the skin of his nape. His eyes look down over Mickey's shoulder to watch him pour coffee into their mugs, the steam curling around them, the aroma of coffee rich and familiar.

“Hard to do shit with you hangin’ onto me, man,” Mickey huffs, pretending to be oh-so-bothered by it.

He isn't. 

Ian hums in response, fingers digging into skin, pressing his weight into Mickey's back until he has him trapped against the countertop. 

“Almost made me drop my coffee, dumbass, lemme—” and Mickey is cut short when Ian's lips find his earlobe, body tensing up at the sensation of a warm, wet tongue licking around the shell of his ear. “Ian—”

“I know you're angry because I got home late yesterday,” Ian declares and rests his forehead where Mickey's neck meets his shoulder. “I wanna make it up to you,” he continues, satisfied as he feels Mickey's body giving in, opening up to his touches. “Gonna make it up real good to you, I promise.”

Despite what his body is screaming for, Mickey loves to be a little shit, so he says, “Fuckass Philip doesn't need you today?” and tries to get away from his hold.

Lip ringed yesterday asking for help—turns out that renovating a fucking house isn't a task meant for one person, especially if said person has 1) a toddler and 2) a goddamn newborn to take care of—and Ian, sweet, thoughtful Ian just couldn't turn his brother down for once and make him shove a hammer up his shitter (obviously, in Mickey's kind words).

So, a perfect saturday meant for fucking like rabbits was ruined again. Last week they had to babysit Franny. Fucking Gallahers man, Mickey had complained, can't live without tormenting everything and everyone.

And Ian wants to make it up to him because he misses him—a man can't live off of quickies and rushed handjobs and half-assed head forever. He misses that drawn out intimacy, the foreplay, that sweet reward he feels when he tears his husband apart just to pull him back together again with the white-hot pleasure he provides him. 

Knows Mickey misses it just as much, judging by the way goosebumps rise in his skin when he trails small, indulgent kisses all over his neck, paying a little bit more attention to the small, practically healed hickeys that are normally obscured by the collar of his shirts.

Laying his tongue flat against a faint mark there, the one that is barely noticeable, all tiny and yellowish and forgotten about, Ian sucks at the skin and then sinks his teeth into it just because he can. Just because the sound that makes its way past Mickey's lips is a low, throaty thing that shows him—proves to him that he's right. Mickey can act all high and mighty, so fucking bratty and stubborn, but he can't deny what his body wants. What his body craves.

And when Ian hears him set his mug on the countertop with a shaky exhale of breath, he knows he's won.

“Gonna let me make you feel good?” he asks, and the answer is yes, yes, yes, he knows.

Because Mickey is now smirking as he pushes himself backwards, effectively creating a sweet type of friction between his ass and the tented front of Ian's sweats, and it colors his voice as he answers, “Fuck yeah.”

It's an easy thing to do, getting Mickey out of his boxers, but Ian feels like taking it slow today—lets his hands explore a bit more, tracing the expanse of pale skin under the fabric of Mickey's shirt. He hears a soft sigh when his fingers brush over a small, pink nipple, his touch light as a feather, and a satisfied hum when he takes the nub between his thumb and index finger and pulls.

With a body so pliant like Mickey's, so giving, Ian just can't help but to marvel every single piece of him. Wrestling-as-foreplay is fun and stimulating and so them, but this slower, I-have-to-fucking-worship-you intimacy is always going to be in the podium for him. How wouldn't it, when Mickey groans so beautifully as he slips his boxers down his legs, making it pool at his ankles, and grabs two handfuls of ass in his big hands?

“C'mon,” it's all Ian makes out of his husband's words. “Ian,” he continues, urging, impatient.

Ian thinks about shutting him up, but deems it unnecessary—all he needs to do is get on his knees, spread Mickey's fat cheeks with purpose, holding him open with both thumbs to get a good look of that tight furl of muscle, and dart out his tongue to lick at him.

Mickey's knee jerks, knocking accidentally on a drawer handle, and a hiss slips past his spit-coated lips. “Mmm, God, again,” he's already pleading, bent over the countertop, trying to get Ian to stop with his kitten licks around his hole and actually get on with it.

Just so goddamn impatient, always. Ian loves him.

“Open your legs a bit, baby,” he instructs, petting his ass. “Yeah, that's it, c'mon,” and just as Mickey obliges, Ian dives in, lapping sloppily all over him.

He hums at the taste of him, clean and shaved and fuckin’ perfect, unhinges his jaw to prod around his hole with the tip of his tongue, applying just enough pressure to feel Mickey's legs wobbling. It's addictive, the way his husband sighs, immersed in his bliss as he shoves his ass shamelessly in Ian's face, fingers gripping tightly at the corners of the countertop.

It really is such a shame that Mickey took so long to get used to this. It took him someone to do it right. Someone that eats him out good until he's panting, desperate at the sensation of a pink, experienced tongue pushing past the tight ring of muscle of his hole, getting him nice and wet and wanting.

“Yeah,” comes a breathy drawl from above just as Ian begins to circle Mickey's hole with his thumb. 

He finds himself grinning, sinking his finger slowly inside, feeling the body he manipulates so well get accustomed to the intrusion. 

A thumb is nothing compared to the grand scheme of things, really, but Ian pushes it dry—spit can only lubricate so much before it dries up—and Mickey practically sings at the sting he feels, “Fuuuck.”

“You love this,” Ian rasps out with certainty.

Mickey nods, not ashamed in the slightest. “Damn right I do,” he says, looking over his shoulder, down so their eyes could meet, and smiles that nasty, lost-in-pleasure smile.

Fuck.

This time Ian spits directly over his rim, pushing his finger deeper inside. Mickey brings a hand to grab one of his ass cheeks, presenting more of him to Ian's hungry gaze, and gasps as another thumb starts to sink in. It's a stretch, a more painful one, but spikes of pleasure are running wild in his veins, his sharp eyebrows pinching together, mouth going slack.

It's filthy—Ian licking over both thumbs where they hold Mickey's hole open. It's even filthier because Mickey loves this shit. That fine line between pain and pleasure that leaves him deliciously on edge, heat pooling in his guts, his cock twitching as it stands proudly and untouched. 

Ian laps at his rim again and again like he's a starving man, has Mickey trembling and whining because it's so good, so messy, and his stubble offers a new type of sensation as it scratches the sensitive skin of his perineum when he goes down to suck it too. 

“Shit, Ian,” Mickey curses, eyes slipping shut. His tip is drooling, pre sticking to his fingers when he reaches down to tug at his cock, mind malfunctioning a little because he doesn't know if he wants to push his ass back and get Ian's tongue deeper inside his hole or thrust into his fist. “So good, fuck, 'm fuckin’ close.”

Humming, Ian pulls back, and a string of crystalline saliva connects his chin to Mickey's rim. “'m gonna make you come on my tongue, baby? You want that?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah? With your sloppy hole stretched on my fingers?” Ian punctuates his question by pulling both thumbs apart just so, stretching him open. 

Knows it stings sweetly because Mickey cries out, “Yes, fuck, get your fuckin’ mouth back on me n’ make me come.”

And Ian doesn't need to be told twice.

Using just his thumbs and his tongue, he makes Mickey's legs tremble—when he spits in his palm and wraps his hand around Mickey's aching, weeping cock, he gets him shivery and moaning, and it blends with the slick sound of his hand sliding up and down. So goddamn filthy, so fucking good.

Ian just needed to press the pad of one of his fingers up and grind it against Mickey's prostate. That's all it took before he heard a long groan, a “Shiiiit,” and felt Mickey's body spasming in his hold—muscles flexing and straightening, strings of cum spurting between his fingers, down his wrist.

Mickey is leaning on his forearms, breathing in shallow gasps of air as he comes down from his high, when Ian pulls back again. His knees hurt, his back too, but he can't find in himself to complain when his husband gazes down at him with a lazy grin, not yet fucked out but definitely satisfied.

“Good?” Ian hums, smiling, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

Mickey nods his head. “C'mere,” he tells him.

Ian goes, adjusting the front of his sweatpants where his cock is still very much hard. Just as he's on his feet, Mickey is already on him, bringing him down with a hand on the back of his head to crash their mouths together.

It's a slow and passionate kiss, tongues sliding against each other, teeth nipping at each other's lips. Ian feels Mickey smile against him, small hands trying to tug his sweats down, and he reaches out to link their fingers.

“I'm good,” he whispers into his mouth. “Just want to make you feel good."

Mickey huffs, clearly not content with that. “Not even a handie?”

With a shake of his head, Ian leans down to pepper kisses along his jaw. “Nah,” he decides, “Down to fuck you good after breakfast, though. I'm starving.”

That makes Mickey snort. “Okay, tough guy. Get some protein in you before you nut in me, then.”

And he says it so casually that Ian can't do anything but laugh, pecking him on the lips. “Love you.”

“Mmm, love you too.”