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pearlessance · 11 months ago

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Three's A Crowd

Tommy Miller x f!reader x Joel Miller

Summary: Tommy's new girlfriend is awfully sweet. When Joel finds out she's got a big appetite that only he can fill, he decides to satisfy the craving. Warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, threesome, praise, seduction, age gap(20yrs), size difference, oral sex galore, unprotected sex, photos taken during intercourse, mention of sending nudes, throat bulge, usual smut antics NOTE: i'm not sure if this is actually any good considering it was writen in just a matter of days because i was inspired by the new promo, gabriel luna the man that you are 😵‍💫😵‍💫 !! MASTERLIST [crossposted to AO3]

Joel Miller knows his brother like the back of his hand.

Which is why it’s not surprising when Tommy lets him in on the details about his secret new girlfriend. Secret—because you’re the daughter of their most consistent client.

At first, Joel tells him how stupid it is to risk the company like that. It’s irresponsible to put on the line their biggest cash cow just to fuck around with the only daughter of the man that funds Miller Contracting through the winter. And then there’s the fact that you don't exactly fit Tommy’s type.

A rich girl with an even richer daddy compared to all those wild girls from Tommy’s previous female fixations? It doesn’t line up. It makes no sense in Joel’s head.

Even as his brother tries to explain, “I didn’t go after her. Not at first. She came onto me.”

Joel’s got one hand on the steering wheel and the other propped on the open window of his truck as they drive home from a particularly exhausting day. He furrows his brows and asks, “Don’t you think that’s a little suspicious? You sure she actually likes you and isn’t just tryin’ to get her daddy’s attention?”

Tommy snorts. “Even if she was, I wouldn't care. You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?”

“Jesus Christ—”

“An’ I mean love, Joel. Not like. Love.” There are stars in his eyes and he knows it’s a serious matter but Joel can’t help the laugh that escapes him.

He thinks it must be high praise coming from his brother who goes home with a different girl every other weekend. “That good, huh?”

“Better than good.”

And he knows Tommy’s got a one-track mind, so there’s really no use fighting it. So he just says, “Be careful. Don’t go gettin’ caught 'cause the business will pay the price.”

Tommy agrees and Joel lets it go. Doesn’t think about it again, even when Tommy cancels their plans to go out that weekend in favor of your company.

Well, not until he’s standing in your kitchen going over blueprints with your father, that is.

Joel tries not to glance out of the floor-length windows in the kitchen to the backyard. He tries not to look at the movement in the pool that repeatedly catches his eye. And he tries, really fucking hard, not to allow his attention to linger on the way that white bikini rests so snugly against your chest, or the way your wet hair cascades down your back and sticks to your smooth skin, or the way his cock twitches in his jeans when the impressive swell your ass shakes as you pull yourself up and out of the pool.

He understands his brother a little better when he sees you, Joel thinks. Understands why he’s willing to risk such a high-profit opportunity for the chance to see you underneath him.

Your father leaves the kitchen to find an old set of blueprints to compare to the new ones, and Joel begins to panic as he realizes this is the moment you decide you’re done swimming.

When you open the door to the kitchen the hinges creak. Joel takes note of it.

Water drips onto the white tile floor, the same quick rhythm as the thumping of his heart against his sternum. You cross the kitchen and open the fridge door without even looking at him.

But Joel certainly looks at you. Can’t help but to, really. You’re like some decadent display as you break the seal of an icy bottle of water and begin to take long, slow drinks from it. Your lips are plush and swollen and Tommy’s words reverberate in the back of Joel’s head.

You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?

“Thirsty?”

He nearly chokes. Joel knows you’re likely just being hospitable. Kind, even. But he feels like he shouldn’t be speaking to you, not when you’re close to naked and dripping wet. And if not because of your father upstairs, then certainly because of his brother’s affinity for you. So, despite the way his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth, he says, “No, thanks.”

Joel turns his eyes back to his blueprints, folding the corner once, twice, trying to focus on anything but the weight of your stare.

If you notice his unease you ignore it as you slide up to the counter beside him and peer down at the layout of your father’s newest home renovation. You’re so close he can feel the heat of your skin, can smell the chlorine in your hair. “Hm,” you say. “This is for the guest room?”

“Bedroom D,” he corrects.

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You turn away from the blueprints, spine resting against the marble countertop in favor of studying him instead. “You’re Joel, right? Tommy’s older brother?”

There’s no sense in lying, Joel thinks. Though he does consider it for a moment. “Uh…yeah,” he says. And then he clears his throat and nods, repeating a little more firmly, “Yeah.”

Your stare is so hot against his skin, eyes unabashedly roaming down the column of his neck. He shivers as your attention lingers on the small sliver of his chest that’s revealed thanks to his decision this morning to leave one of the buttons on his flannel unsecured. You’re standing so close to him now that a drop of chlorinated water falls from the ends of your hair and onto his arm.

Joel feels the cool liquid slide down his too warm-skin, melting as if it were ice, heating to the temperature of his blood that sings in his veins beneath your scrutinization.

He watches your tongue slide over your pretty bottom lip and his breath catches in his lungs. “Hm,” you say again, the sound a little fonder this time. “I see where he gets his good looks from.”

It’s been a long time since someone flirted with him so openly. Even longer since someone your age even took a second glance at him. And even though he knows, by the rule of his own morality, that you belong to his little brother…Joel can’t deny the giddy feeling it elicits in his chest. Can’t deny that he likes your attention, either.

“Found them,” your father suddenly says, bounding down the stairs with folded blueprints in his hand.

Joel clears his throat and you take a small step away from him, but otherwise seem unphased by the intrusion. He tries to ignore the lingering buzzing beneath his skin, tries to shake off what remains of the electrified energy you’d created.

You greet your dad with a kiss on the cheek and tell him you’re going out tonight. Your father asks with who, and you glance past him, staring only at Joel as you say simply, “Just a friend.”

And he knows you’ll likely be at his little brother’s apartment within the hour. Thinks about preparing himself for yet another of Tommy’s cancellations of guy’s night but this time there’s no frustration on Joel’s part.

Because he doesn’t blame his brother at all. If anything, he understands a little better now. Understands why getting drunk with Joel at a bar is a far less tempting activity than spreading those pretty thighs of yours. Understands why he’d rather stay home than go out, especially if you’re there in his bedroom on your knees for him.

His assumption is confirmed later that night when he gets a text message.

Tommy: Have to cancel again. Sorry, something came up.

Joel knows exactly what ‘came up’ and decides to put on an old western movie to distract himself instead.

But when he lays in bed that night, the image of you in your bikini surfaces in his brain and makes a home there. He tries for an hour to get himself to relax enough to shut it out, to just go to sleep.

Eventually, though, he realizes there’s no fucking point in trying. And even though you’re in his brother’s bed and your father’s blueprints are sitting on the kitchen table downstairs, Joel Miller takes his cock in his hand and has the best orgasm of his life. He thinks about your smooth skin and supple curves, thinks about the way that single droplet of water felt against his skin, thinks about your pink tongue and the way you looked at him with such insatiable hunger.

It’s a secret Joel decides he’ll take to his grave.

He tries not to think of you after that. Tries to keep his distance from you, from your house in general. Joel’s not a man who enjoys technology but opts for emailing your father instead of meeting with him to avoid another post-pool incident.

Tommy finally makes it to guy’s night two weeks later but he’s glued to his fucking cell phone. Joel tries to make conversation, tells him about upcoming projects and opportunities for contracts, and mentions that this summer has been their most profitable yet. But Tommy only nods every so often. Giving Joel a stupid, uninterested, “Yeah, for sure,” or “That’s great, Joel,” or “I don’t know, maybe.”

There’s no salt to his words, no meaning other than oblivious agreement. And it starts to anger Joel because Tommy’s been distracted by girls before but never like this. Never so much so that he can’t sit and have half a conversation with his brother. Eventually, he lets out an annoyed sigh and says, “If you’ve got somewhere better to be you can just fuckin’ go, Tommy. Jesus Christ.”

The irritation seems to finally get his attention. Tommy locks his cell phone and says, “She’s sending me pictures, distractin’ me, I’m sorry,” but there’s a stupid ass grin on his face and Joel can feel the insincerity radiating off his brother.

Joel rolls his eyes and waves down the bartender for the check.

“No, no, okay,” Tommy insists, setting his phone face down on the bar top. He shoos the bartender away and says, “Okay, seriously, you’re right. I’m sorry.” It’s a little more genuine this time, and so Joel decides to meet his brother halfway.

“You really like her? S’that what this is?”

That smile returns to Tommy’s face, eyes glossing over in a mystifying way. He must, because Joel’s never seen him like this before. “We’re not even together,” he says.

Joel’s brows furrow. “What are you talking about? You spend every weekend with her, you might as well be.”

“Believe me, Joel, I’ve tried, man. She’s…I don’t know how to explain it. She doesn’t want anything serious. Doesn’t wanna be exclusive or nothin’ but isn’t fuckin’ around with anyone but me. I just…” he shakes his head and his eyes widen and Joel can see the awe in them.

“So she’s acting like you,” Joel supplies.

It makes Tommy laugh. But the more he explains, the more Joel starts to believe it. “She’s so sweet but that girl is insatiable. Just wants to fuck and have a good time and that’s it. Doesn’t care about much else.”

“I’m not sayin’ you shouldn’t have fun, Tommy, but don’t let her consume your whole life. Get some space every once in a while,” Joel says. But he understands the infatuation, understands exactly how enticing your company would be.

He leans in close, one hand wrapped around his whiskey glass and the other tapping the back of his phone. “Those pictures…she’s taking pictures in the shower, Joel. For me. An’ you wanna know what she just told me the other day?”

Joel knows what’s coming next. Knows Tommy’s about to clue him in on something Joel has no business knowing, but he can’t fight off his curiosity. “What?”

“Said her biggest fantasy is a threesome with two guys. Told me, and I quote, that she wants to get fucked while she’s got my dick in her mouth.” He makes a sound of disbelief but there’s this grin on his face that lets Joel know Tommy’s biggest fantasy is to be with a filthy girl like you.

Joel just shakes his head.

But the image his brother paints lingers in his brain for days.

In fact, he’s still thinking about it during his next meeting with your father. Thinking about the fact that you’re up in your room, fantasizing about getting fucked by two guys at once when your dad suddenly says, “I’ll be out of town for a couple of weeks, I hope you don’t mind I gave my little girl your phone number. Just in case anything goes wrong. It won’t, but I hate being so far away while she’s here alone. I’m sure you understand, being a father and all.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to respond, unsure how to explain how terrible an idea that is, so he says nothing. Just nods stiffly and begins discussing the renovations for the ensuite of bedroom C.

Less than a week later, Joel gets a phone call from an unknown number, and his gut sinks because he knows it’s you. He debates on ignoring the call but then begins to worry that something’s actually wrong and puts himself in your father’s position. Thinks he’d be furious, had it been Sarah, if she’d called someone for help and they’d ignored her.

So, he presses his cell phone to his ear and says, “Hello?”

“Joel? Hi, sorry, I know it’s kinda late. Do you think you could come over really quick? I need your help.”

“Help? With what?” It doesn’t really matter, he thinks. Because he’s already lacing up his boots, phone held to his ear with his shoulder.

“I locked myself out,” you explain. “My dad’s out of town for work and I didn’t grab my key before he left. You have a spare, don’t you? For the renovations and stuff?”

Joel can’t help but wonder where you’ve been for the last few days. Someplace you wouldn’t have needed to come home, it seems. “Uh, yeah, I do,” he says. “I’ll be there in a minute. Hang tight.”

He finds you standing on your front porch with a backpack slung over your shoulder, your phone charger in your hand, and a look of relief on your face. “Thank you so much,” you immediately say. “I swear I never forget my key but I was distracted this time.”

Joel unlocks the front door for you and lets you inside. He lingers on the threshold, saying, “No, it’s fine. No worries at all.”

“Come inside,” you insist, and he can feel the bad decision from a fucking mile away.

“Really, it’s fine. I’ll just—”

“Please,” you interrupt. “Are you thirsty? Hungry? Let me make you something to eat before you go. It’s the least I could do.”

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. But he does.

Joel nods, unable to resist you and how pretty the word please sounds in your mouth. He follows you into the kitchen, lingering at the island counter as you drop your bag onto the floor next to the stairs and immediately plug your cell phone into the extra outlet he’d placed into the backsplash per your father’s request during last winter’s renovation. You look over your shoulder at him as you open the refrigerator and ask, “You like grilled cheese?”

“Uh, yeah. I do.” He sits in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the way you move as you prepare the bread and heat up a cast iron pan. Eventually, he finds the courage to ask, “You…uh…were you at Tommy’s?”

He watches as your cheeks redden the smallest bit. But there’s no shame in your voice as you answer simply, “Yes, I was.”

“Figured you’d tire each other out eventually,” he teases.

You laugh softly, and the buttered bread sizzles as you place it into the pan. As you lay the slices of cheese on top of it you explain, “Wasn’t like that. I’m home for the weekend so Tommy can talk to you, actually.”

It surprises him to hear it, in truth. “Me? What for?”

You flush an even deeper crimson. “Uhm…I think it’s better that you hear it from him,” you say.

Joel’s mind wanders to a million places as you dig out a spatula and flip the grilled cheese. But then a terrifying thought strikes him and Joel suddenly asks, “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“Ew, no,” you say with a laugh. “Believe me, Joel, I like creampies just as much as the next girl but I’m not irresponsible about it.”

This time, it’s his face that warms. Joel swallows hard and sits on the barstool at the island, trying not to think about your inadvertent admission, trying not to imagine it, to imagine how fucking good it would feel to—

“Here,” you say, placing a glass plate in front of him with a perfectly crispy grilled cheese cut diagonally. He’s thankful for the distraction, thankful to convince himself the watering of his mouth is from the food in front of him and not the thought of how you would taste on his tongue.

“Thanks,” he says simply, trying to massage some of the tension from his shoulders. It had been a long day on the job site and he’ll admit to himself only that a grilled cheese and the sight of a pretty girl certainly feels like a treat.

You seem to notice his discomfort and ask, “You okay?”

He nods and takes a bite of his sandwich. It’s the most delicious thing he’s ever had and he tries to hold back his moan to no avail. When he looks over at you, you’re wearing a satisfied grin that only widens when he says around another mouthful, “This is incredible.”

As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, you step up behind him and place your hands on his shoulders. Joel opens his mouth to stop you, to tell you this is wrong, inappropriate—but then you kneed your fingers into the tender muscle, and his eyes flutter closed.

All argument leaves him as quickly as it appeared, and all he can manage to say is, “Jesus Christ.”

Your quiet giggle is the cutest thing he’s ever heard. And Joel knows he should be thinking of his brother right now, knows he should be thinking of your father, thinking about the fact that you’re just a young woman, twenty years separating the two of you…but all he can focus on is the way your hands feel on him.

They’re warm and soft but clinical in their pursuit, thumbs pressing hard into the muscle that brackets his spine. Your delicate fingers feel like heaven, bringing relief he never realized just how badly he needed.

You slowly massage down his back, pushing against the knots, working them free. When you get to his lower back, he groans when you slip your hands beneath his navy t-shirt. You’re touching him with no barrier and it steals the breath from his lungs.

Never in his life has he wanted to be touched by someone so badly. Never in his life has he enjoyed the feel of another person’s skin against his so much. Your thumbs dig into the sore muscles, working the tension out.

You lean in so close that he can feel the heat of your breath against the shell of his ear as you say, “Will you take your shirt off?”

He’s thankful you’re standing behind him, however. Because it means you can’t see the way his cock stiffens in his jeans.

The words are tempting and seductive and wrong, he knows. He looks back at you and the heat in your eyes takes him off guard. The angle has his mouth so close to yours you’re sharing the same breath.

It’s then he knows just how badly you want him. As much as he wants you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say. While you speak, your fingertips trace soft patterns into the skin of his lower back.

Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he does it anyway.

You step away from him only long enough for Joel to grip his t-shirt at the back of his collar and pull it over his head, laying it on the marble countertop.

And then you go back to your ministrations as if nothing changed; massaging the tension from his muscles, starting low and working your way back up to his shoulders this time. But it is different, Joel knows. Because he can feel the heat of your skin against his and his heart rate picks up, a different kind of tension filling him instead.

But it feels so fucking good that he doesn’t ever want you to stop.

So, he eats what remains of his grilled cheese. Lets you work the tightness from his bones, trying not to hiss in pain when you touch a particularly tender spot in the center of his back. You lighten the pressure there and begin building back up to it slowly, bringing him to heights of euphoria he’d never known existed.

When he wipes the crumbs from his hands and pushes his now empty plate away, Joel knows he should stop you. But he doesn’t, because he can no longer find a reason good enough to say the words. He lets you dote on him in a way he doesn’t deserve and soaks it up while it lasts.

And when you press a sweet, chaste kiss to the top of his spine, Joel feels the energy shift but doesn’t say anything then, either.

Because he likes the way your lips feel against his skin. Even more so than your soft hands.

You do it again, a little higher this time. You kiss the back of his neck and he shivers. He realizes you can see the goosebumps that break out across his skin, because he can feel the smile on your lips as you press another wet, open-mouthed kiss to the junction of his shoulder.

Joel’s cock has never been this hard, he thinks. He’s never wanted someone so badly, has never been so incapable of making the right decision as he is at this very moment.

His breath comes fast and labored as you press yourself to him. You’re not wearing a bra beneath your oversized t-shirt, and he can feel your pebbled nipples against his back. Your hands move forward, circling his abdomen, sliding up and over his chest. He knows he should stop you now, knows this is the beginning of something he can never come back from.

But the two of you are all alone in this big empty house, and how can he deny you? He doesn’t have the strength. Not then you slide pretty, delicate fingers over his soft stomach, through the dark curls that disappear into his jeans.

Your hand is slow in its pursuit but still adamant as you palm the bulge in his jeans. Even through the thick denim, the feel of your hands on him makes him shake. He cock throbs with each gentle stroke, each small movement. “You can tell me to stop,” you tell him. “Is this okay?”

He can’t bring himself to say anything, but the moan that escapes him is answer enough. He places his hands on the edge of the counter and straightens his spine, getting a full view as you undo the button of his jeans and lower the metal zipper at an agonizingly slow pace.

And then you’re slipping a hand inside his jeans, below the elastic band of his boxers, and all thoughts eddy out of his head. He can think of nothing, nothing as you begin to stroke him. Your hands are small, barely fitting around his cock, but you make do with what you have and it’s more than enough.

You pull him out of his jeans completely, and it’s a sight to behold, seeing his cock in your pretty hands. He tries to catch his breath as you pull one of your hands away for a single moment. And when it returns, your fingers are sticky with webs of spit.

This time, when you wrap your hand around his cock, you’re able to stoke him a little easier, the added lubrication allowing for freer movement. You move slowly at first, hands grazing from base to tip.

He watches with reverence as you familiarize yourself with him. When a bead of precum forms at the tip of his cock, you use your thumb to add it to the sticky wetness already in your hands. Joel can feel the smile on your face as you continue to press desperate kisses to his spine, and he knows he won’t last long like this.

Watching you stroke him with both of your small hands, watching you take care of him like this…it’s too much. It’s too fucking much.

So he closes his eyes. Lets himself sink into the moment with you instead, listens to your pretty whimpers as you press your tits against him. He wants to reach around and slide his hand between your thighs but knows better, knows that this is already bad enough.

You tighten your hands around his cock, squeezing a little harder, and he feels his end begin to build at the base of his spine. “Fuck.”

“Does it feel good?”

He tries to breathe slowly, tries to draw it out. But you pick up your pace, stroking him a little faster, and Joel can’t stop the groan that escapes him.

“You make me so wet, Joel,” you whisper against his skin. “I think about you and touch myself sometimes, thinking about how fucking big you are, how good it would feel to have you touch me…how good you’d feel inside of me.”

Your filthy words bring him to the brink. Joel fights it, doesn’t want to finish so fast he embarrasses himself. He wants to see the look on your face, wants to fuck you right here on this kitchen counter that he built.

Joel clenches his fists instead. Stays stone still because he knows if he moves an inch he’ll be giving into these desires. Knows a single shift in position would have him pulling your shorts down your thighs and licking your pussy until he makes you cry out for God.

But it’s not his place.

It’s not his fucking place, and you’re not his fucking girl.

So he doesn’t move.

You do, though.

Joel tries to catch his breath as you pull away from him, the absence of your touch leaving him cold and wanting. But then you’re nudging your way in front of him, in the small space between his knees and the island, and then you’re lowering yourself to the marble floor.

You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?

Slowly, you run your hands over his jean-clad thighs. You look up at him through your lashes and he feels a little like he’s being worshipped.

And when you lean forward, pretty, soft tongue licking the underside of his cock, Joel can’t keep his hands to himself. His resolve withers, and he threads his fingers through your hair but is careful not to rush you.

He lets you take your time, lets you swirl your tongue over the head, lets you taste every inch of him to your heart’s content. And when you finally take him into your mouth, cheeks hallowed out, creating a tight seal around him, Joel’s head falls back in bliss.

You savor it, relish in it, swallowing him down inch by inch. He hits the back of your throat and still you keep going, choking on him, nose pressed against the hair below his navel. With each pass, you begin to bob your head, tongue smoothing over the sensitive tip. You set an insatiable rhythm, drool sliding down your chin.

It doesn’t take him long. His hands tighten in the hair at the nape of your neck and he breaths out, “Fuck, fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna-”

Your watery eyes meet his and the adoration in them sends him over the edge. Joel finishes at the back of your mouth, your fingernails digging into the meaty flesh of his thighs almost painfully, but you take everything he gives you and swallow it down.

It’s the sexiest thing he’s seen in all his life.

When he finishes, Joel strokes your hair affectionately and you smile up at him with his cock still in your mouth. It makes him laugh, and he realizes how soft and sweet this moment feels. How easy it is. How he never wants it to end.

Slowly, you sit back and begin to stand to your feet. Your lips are swollen and red and glossy, even when you wipe the spit off your chin with the back of your hand.

You cross the kitchen, grab your phone, and make your way to the staircase. “Thanks again, Joel. Can you lock up on your way out?”

He doesn’t understand how you can feel so casually about this. Doesn’t understand how you’re likely texting his brother as if Joel’s cock wasn’t just in your mouth, as if the taste of his release doesn’t linger on your tongue.

The guilt doesn’t set in until he’s in bed that night. He can’t sleep, because he knows he has to say something to Tommy but knows, too, he’ll likely pay the price of a right hook in reparation.

At three in the morning he sends a text to his brother; Come over in the morning. Need to talk. Important.

Joel doesn’t sleep. He lays in bed and thinks of you, as he so often does these days. Thinks about how uncomfortable it’s going to be to tell his little brother that he indulged himself in the pretty little thing he’s been spending all of his time with. He decides he’s just going to say it outright, tell him the truth without beating around the bush, and immediately apologize for it afterward.

Because he is sorry, Joel thinks. Not sorry that he did it, but sorry that it’s hurt people in the process.

How can he come to regret the most gratifying sexual experience of his life? It’s a comfort, to hear some of Tommy’s words echo in his brain.

We’re not even together.

She doesn’t want anything serious.

It’s like she just wants to fuck and have a good time and that’s it.

Joel hopes his brother feels a similar way. Tommy’s never once indicated he’s ever wanted to settle down with a woman, but…something sits in his gut and twists up his insides. Because as much as he wants to deny it, Joel knows this…knows you are different. What Tommy feels for you is different.

He’s drinking whiskey by ten in the morning for no reason other than to calm his nerves.

And Joel’s thankful for the liquid courage when Tommy finally pulls into the driveway at noon. He comes barrelling through Joel’s front door with a scowl on his face, and for a second Joel wonders if his brother already knows and is here thinking Joel had every intention of keeping this secret of yours.

But when he speaks, Tommy doesn’t seem angry. Just…concerned. “What’s up, man? Pretty ominous text to wake up to. Where’s Sarah? She alright?”

Joel shakes his head and raises a hand between them. “Sarah’s fine, she’s alright,” he says quickly. “Staying with a friend this weekend. Sorry, I guess I should have mentioned it wasn’t a life or death situation.”

For Tommy, anyway.

With a slow nod, Tommy’s shoulders slump and he drops himself onto the couch. “Alright, then. That’s good. I was worried, came haulin’ ass over here.” It’s then he notices the tumbler in Joel’s hand, half filled with amber-colored liquid. “You good, Joel?”

He takes a seat next to his brother and tries to recite the speech in his head. But nothing comes out. Joel opens and closes his mouth once, twice, and then finishes off the whiskey in his glass.

Tommy’s patient, for what it’s worth. He lets Joel adjust in his seat three different times, saying nothing while he tries to find the courage he’s been building for the last twelve hours.

“I…I, uhm…I have to tell you something an’ I…” Joel shakes his head and squeezes his jaw. “Alright, look. I…did something.”

A quiet, curt sort of laugh leaves Tommy. “I know what happened last night, Joel. She already told me.”

It surprises him. Not that you told him, Joel can’t fault you for that considering he’s presently trying to do the same thing. What’s surprising is that Tommy seems relaxed about the whole situation. Relieved, even.

A million different questions surface on the tip of his tongue, but only one comes out. “What?”

“It’s alright, man,” Tommy says, laying a comforting hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“You’re not…mad? I don’t understand. I let her—”

Tommy’s mouth stretches into one of the widest smiles Joel’s ever seen on his brother’s face. “It was good, huh?”

Joel doesn’t know if saying yes is a good idea. Doesn’t know if a simple three-letter word is sufficient enough for the things you made him feel with that pretty, pink tongue of yours.

But it seems his thoughts are written plainly on his face. “Fuck yeah, it was,” Tommy says with a laugh. “She called me right after you left her house last night. Told me everything. She makes a mean grilled cheese too, doesn’t she?”

Try as he might, Joel can’t seem to wrap his head around what’s happening. Can’t seem to process his brother’s ease, his indifference. He tries to put himself in Tommy’s place but knows that if it was his bed you slept in for the last week, Joel would be furious to learn you’d wound up on your knees for someone else.

But if that someone was Tommy? His own brother?

Maybe that’s why it’s different. Because Joel would never do something to hurt his brother intentionally. And he knows, too, that Tommy would never do it to him, either.

He trusts his brother with everything in him. There’s not another soul on the planet who knows him like Tommy does. So, surely, he knows that what you and Joel did wasn’t born of malicious intent, right?

“She’s a sweet little thing,” Tommy says quietly, as if they’re sharing a secret. “But that mouth on her is somethin’ else. She’s a talker, through and through.” There’s pride on his face as he speaks. “Said she felt real bad, runnin’ out on you like that, but she’d gotten so wet from just goin’ down on you that I could hear it through the fuckin’ phone, Joel.”

Though he tries not to, Joel begins to wonder what would have happened if you’d stayed, if you hadn’t disappeared so fast to take care of the ache that had settled between your thighs.

It would have been only fair, right? You helped him. He would have helped you.

“She wanted me to talk to you about something, anyway,” Tommy says.

He’d nearly forgotten that you’d mentioned the same thing last night in all the chaos. It piques his interest, because what on Earth could you need Tommy to ask him?

But his answer comes quickly when his brother says carefully, “You remember a couple of weeks ago when I told you what her biggest fantasy is?”

A threesome.

Joel’s standing from the couch and shaking his head before his brother gets another word out. “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind, Tommy?”

“Joel, just listen—”

“Listen to what, man? You got any idea what you’re askin’ me right now?”

There’s a smirk on his face as he stares at Joel from the couch, looking just as comfortable as if they were having a normal conversation about what they should eat for dinner. “I’m askin’ you to fuck my girlfriend,” he says.

Somehow, the word girlfriend surprises Joel more than the rest. It’s the very first time he’s ever called anyone his girlfriend. “I thought you weren’t together.”

Tommy shrugs. “Call it what you will. Does it really matter?”

“Yeah, Tommy, it does matter. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have feelings for this girl. Tell me this doesn’t mean anythin’ to you, that doing somethin’ like this wouldn’t fuck it all up in a minute.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t lie to you, brother. ‘Course she means somethin’ to me. That’s why I wanna give her everything she wants. And she wants you too, Joel. Is that so bad?”

Joel sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots.

For a second, a single second, he considers it. Thinks about how any price is worth it for a single night with you, to hear the sound of your moans, to feel your warm breath against his neck again. He’d bet you sound real pretty, all filled up with him.

“Don’t trust anyone else to take care of her the way I do,” Tommy says. “No one but you.”

It’s too much. It’s way too much to ask of him.

“You’re insane, Tommy,” he says, grabbing his whiskey glass from the coffee table and escaping to the kitchen to refill it. He wishes he had something a little stronger.

He’s not surprised when his brother follows him to the kitchen. Tommy leans against the archway and says, “You can say no.”

“Good, 'cause I’m sayin’ no.”

Tommy laughs, but Joel thinks there’s no joke to be found. “Just wanted you to know the offer’s there and she’d jump at the opportunity. Y’know, if you change your mind, that is. Ask her about it, if you wanna.”

“I won’t.”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, not tryin’ to push it or anything. You know how to get ahold of me.”

And then his brother retreats, leaving Joel with nothing but his whiskey and his thoughts.

Thoughts that run rampant in his brain. Filthy images of you beneath him, back arched in pleasure, pretty mouth hung open just wide enough for Tommy to slip inside.

How terrible would it be, really? Tommy might have impulsive tendencies, but he seems so sure of this. And if there’s not an ounce of jealousy in his brother, so much so that he offers you to Joel like some sort of prize…maybe there won’t be the repercussions Joel’s afraid of.

Maybe it’ll be as Tommy says. Maybe it would just be a good, safe way to give you what you want, to indulge your wildest desires.

And it would certainly be an indulgence for him. Just feeling your hands on him had brought Joel bliss like he’d never known. He can’t imagine how much higher he’d feel if he could taste you, if he could finish deep inside of you and not at the back of your throat.

It takes twenty minutes of pacing in his kitchen and another ten of shaking the nerves from his hands before he picks up the phone and calls you.

“Hey, Joel. I was just thinking about you.”

“S’that right?”

“Mmhm. Did…did Tommy talk to you yet? He told me he was going to this morning.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. He did.”

A strange sort of silence stretches on. He can hear your hesitance and realizes you’re just as nervous as he is. “And? What did you…what did you say?”

He doesn’t have the heart to tell you he declined the offer. Not when it was a no mostly out of fear and unease. “You wanna tell me how this is gonna work?”

You snort and he can almost see the playful smirk on your face. “I think you know how it works, Joel.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he says, but can’t fight off the smile that climbs onto his face and makes a home there. “Brat.”

“Hm, I think I prefer the term princess.”

Joel laughs but thinks the name is real fitting. He can see why Tommy likes you so much—can understand why he wants to give you everything it is that you desire. Everything about you is so playful and carefree and innocent. You’re just so sweet. A tooth-rotting confectionary.

“I don’t know how it’ll work,” you finally say. “I’ve never done something like this before, but I know it’s what I want.”

Your conviction is reassuring. Both you and Tommy seem certain that this is the path you want to take, no unease to be found within either of you. But it’s not the physical that worries him. It’s…everything else. “An’ what happens if it becomes something more? Sex is just sex until it isn’t.”

He can hear the smile in your words as you ask, “You worried about catching feelings for me, Joel Miller?”

“I’m bein’ serious,” he insists. “Tommy feels somethin’ for you. I know it and I think you probably do, too. I don’t want to do this and ruin what the two of you have been workin’ on.”

“You won’t ruin anything,” you insist. “And if…if things do get…complicated, then we’ll just take it day by day. No use in worrying about something that might not happen, right?”

It’s such a naive way of thinking. Joel wishes he wouldn’t have said no so quickly. Wishes, too, that you were a little different. Maybe if you weren’t so sweet, so tempting, he wouldn’t be so worried about ‘catching feelings,’ as you’d put it.

Your voice is quieter as you say, “For what it’s worth, Joel…I like you, too.”

By the end of the phone call, you manage to convince him to consider it. To genuinely give the idea a shot, to weigh all the pros and cons. You promise not to be disappointed with either decision and though he knows the whole thing has been your idea, Joel believes you.

Several days later, Joel stops by with the intent to fix the creaky hinges on the door to the pool. But the moment he steps into the kitchen, Joel forgets all about the task at hand because he can hear your moans echoing through the house.

He follows them like a moth to a flame.

The door to your father’s bedroom is wide open. And in the center of the king-sized bed, covered with gray satin sheets, is you and Tommy.

Tommy’s turned away from the door, but you’re looking right at it. Looking right at Joel, as you bounce in his brother’s lap. When your eyes connect with him, your pace only picks up, your moans only grow louder.

Joel watches, frozen in time, as you chase your release. Tommy swirls his tongue around your pebbled nipple, leaving a trail of wetness in its wake. You thread your fingers through his hair and moan his name but you stare right at Joel.

He can’t breathe. Has suddenly forgotten the process of inhalation. He’s seen you in your bikini but never like this, never completely bare. You’re beautiful, Joel thinks. Beautiful in a godly way; a woman the poets write for, a woman the sculptors display in cathedrals.

You reach a hand between your bodies, circling your clit and arching your back.

The thought doesn’t even cross Joel’s mind that he should leave, that he should give the two of you some privacy. It feels right that he’s here.

You grind yourself on Tommy’s cock and give Joel the sweetest, most innocent smile as you say, “It’s so big, you’re so deep. God, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Tommy grabs at the soft swell of your ass, lifting you just to slam you back down onto his lap. “Yeah? Gonna cum all over this dick, princess?”

I prefer the term princess.

No need to wonder why, Joel thinks.

“Mmhm, yes, yes, right there.”

“Can feel her gettin’ all messy,” Tommy says. “If I knew you’d get this wet ridin’ me in your daddy’s bed I would’ve said yes weeks ago, pretty girl.”

Joel knows the reason you’re all worked up has nothing to do with the location and everything to do with his eyes on you, but he stays silent. Stays still.

Even as he watches you fall apart on his brother's cock and soak the satin sheets beneath him. Even as Tommy does the thing that Joel’s been dreaming about every night for days, filling you up with his release.

He doesn’t linger. He doesn’t fix the creaky hinges, either.

Joel barely makes it back to his truck before he’s reaching into his jeans to stroke his cock, right there in the driveway in broad fucking daylight.

It only takes a few quick tugs before he covers his hand in sticky ropes of cum. He tries to catch his breath, wiping the mess you’ve made of him onto his jeans and driving home ten over the limit. Before he makes it inside to shower and change, Joel sends a text message to both you and Tommy that reads; Okay. I’m in. My place. Friday night at ten.

He tries not to think about it too much. Tries to go on about his work week like normal, going through the motions of making dinner each night and taking Sarah to school every morning with Tommy in the passenger seat.

They don’t talk about it, though Joel can sometimes feel his brother staring at him a little too long as if there’s something he wants to say. But he doesn’t. They don’t bring it up until after Joel drops Sarah off at her friend’s house for another weekend-long slumber party.

Tommy says, “I’m gonna take her out for dinner. Do you want to come with us? Could help break the ice a little. Loosen you up.”

He agrees, and instead of going home, they pick you up from your house. You’re wearing a pleated blue skirt that’s a little too short, but Joel thinks you look like something divine. Tommy helps you up into the truck, and everything starts to feel real the moment you’re sitting between them. Joel behind the wheel, Tommy on the passenger side.

You look so small in the center of the cab, surrounded by two brothers who possess nothing but longing for you. Like pretty prey caught in the clutches of two predators.

Joel has to readjust himself in his seat when you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. Sweet. “Missed you,” you say. “You look good. You both do.”

He doesn’t comment on the fact that they’re both still in their work attire; dirty blue jeans, sun-faded t-shirts, and muddy boots. He’s surprised to hear your appreciation, considering how put together you always seem to be.

But maybe that’s the appeal for you. The blue-collar archetype. Your daddy probably expects you to marry the son of one of his friends, just another rich boy.

If he could see you now…

Tommy slides his hand to the inside of your thigh and squeezes. “You hungry, princess? Let’s get you somethin’ to eat.”

As much as he hates to admit when his brother’s right, dinner works wonders for Joel’s nerves. The three of you talk the entire time; you tell Joel about your friends and the subjects you’re studying in that fancy college you got into on a full ride. It’s not the one your father wanted you to attend, but it’s the one you wanted.

Even though he knows Tommy has heard it all before, he lets you and Joel have this moment. He sits beside you and smiles at you as you speak, eyes glued to the side of your face and full of adoration. Joel realizes then that he thinks his brother might be in love with you.

He gets it. Thinks it must have been a real easy fall.

Tommy slots himself in the conversation naturally. The two of you clue Joel in on some of your inside jokes and it doesn’t feel weird at all. He doesn’t feel left out like he’d worried he might be, and he doesn’t feel jealous when you steal bites from Tommy’s plate because you steal things from Joel’s, too.

It’s easy. Nothing feels forced, no conversation out of place.

Halfway through the meal, you switch sides of the booth and sit next to Joel instead. You lay your head on his shoulder and he holds your hand beneath the table and it feels right. Tommy smiles at the two of you and carries on with his story as if the dynamic you’ve created has existed for years and not just hours.

When it’s time to go home, Joel finds that his nerves have completely vanished.

Tommy offers to drive. And he’s thankful for it because it allows him to focus on just you.

You take Joel’s hand and lay it in your lap, palm open. He shivers as you trace the lines in his hand. You ask him, “How are you feeling?”

And the answer comes to him easily. “Good,” he says. “Better.”

“Told you,” Tommy says, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh. “She’s a real good girl, Joel. Always does as she’s told.”

Even though the sun is setting below the horizon, he can see the crimson that stains your cheeks and it brings a smile to his face. “S’that right?” He takes your chin gently in his hand and forces you to look up at him. “You a real good listener, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, she is,” Tommy answers wistfully. “Why don’t you g’’head and give Joel some sugar, princess.”

You lean into Joel’s side, pressing a kiss to his jaw. It feels good just being close to you, holding you in his hands, but when you touch him, it’s something else entirely. An uncontrollable desire, an unfamiliar sort of decadence.

Joel cradles your face in his big hand, thumb stroking your cheekbone, and gently presses his lips to yours. It’s soft at first, a tender curiosity. He kisses you again, a little more heated this time, and when he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip you grant him access as if it’s second nature.

His tongue explores yours, tangling together, invading your sweet mouth. Joel thinks you taste a little like honey and a whole lot like fortuity. If you had asked him ten years ago if he’d ever imagined he’d be in this spot, tasting the inside of his brother’s girlfriend’s mouth, Joel would have said it was a delusional thought.

Yet here he was, cock stiffening in his jeans from something as simple as a kiss. Like he’s some teenage boy, experiencing a woman for the first time.

But it is his first time experiencing you, and Joel knows that’s what makes all the difference.

The kiss turns sloppy and desperate. And when your panting breaths turn to moans, Joel realizes Tommy’s hand on your thigh has disappeared beneath your skirt.

It surprises him, the magnitude of the moment. Joel would have thought he’d feel jealous somehow, envious that his brother’s touching you and he’s not. But there’s nothing but satisfaction to be found. Joel likes to see the dark look in your eye, likes to see your breath hitch in your throat.

He takes your legs and spreads them wide, draping your thigh over his, giving his brother more room to touch you.

“What do you think, brother? Think we should give her what she needs before we even get home?”

Your face is so close to his that your breath fans across his spit-covered lips as you say so beautifully, “Please, Joel.”

A smirk finds its way to his mouth. “You look so fuckin’ pretty when you beg, sweetheart,” he says. “S’that what you want? Hm?”

You nod frantically, eyes pleading.

“Hold your skirt up, baby,” Tommy instructs. And you do as he says without question, fabric bunching around your hips.

Joel can’t deny the pleasure he finds in discovering you’re completely bare beneath. Even from his spot in the passenger seat, he can see how glossy your pussy is with arousal, desperate to be touched by both of them. “Oh…look at that, Tommy. She wants it bad, doesn’t she?”

“Always does, brother. Needy little thing. S’why she needs the two of us,” Tommy says. His fingers trail lazily over your slit, a teasing caress. He presses his index finger against your clit and makes a satisfied hum, a sound that comes from somewhere deep in his chest. “Can feel your heartbeat right here, princess. Tell Joel what you want.”

“I want him to touch me,” you say, a little bit breathless. “Want him to make me cum while you kiss me. You taste so good, Joel. You make me so wet.”

The words don’t sound filthy or obscene in your voice, despite how vulgar they are. Joel squeezes your jaw in his hand and delights in the way you grin when he says, “Eyes on me, sweetheart. Wanna see the look on your face when he fills you up with his fingers.”

You’re so pretty, Joel thinks. But it’s nothing compared to the way your pupils dilate as his brother stretches you open. Your lips part and Joel takes the opportunity to crush his mouth to yours, to taste the sweetness you possess.

He drinks up your moans as Tommy sets a steady pace between your thighs. Joel grabs the back of your knee with a rough hand and spreads your legs further apart. He can hear how wet you are, can feel the goosebumps as they form down the column of your throat.

Joel pulls away from your spellbinding kiss only to catch his breath. “How’s it feel, baby? That feel good, hm? Tommy takin’ good care of you?”

“Yes, yes—mmm—fuck. His hands are so big, feel so fucking good,” you whimper. One hand is clutching Joel’s shirt, holding on for dear life, and you move the other to rest on his cock. You gently knead it over his jeans, and he wonders if you can feel just how hard he is for you.

It doesn’t take long until his brother has you trembling. Your thighs shake and a crease forms between your brows as you chase after the relief you seek.

He kisses you again, tongue brushing against yours, and when you breathe Joel’s name into his mouth he knows what you need before you even ask.

Slowly, experimentally, Joel’s hand on your knee travels upwards. Over the soft skin of your thigh, taking it all in, savoring you—and then his fingers are circling your clit while Tommy’s are shoved deep inside of you, curved to hit the perfect spot, and you come undone within seconds.

“Oh, God, Tommy, I—”

“I know, baby, it’s okay. Go ahead,” he says, giving you full permission.

The words are the last thing you need to reach the full height of euphoria. You’re reduced to a trembling mess in his hands and Joel thinks this is so much better than his dreams. Better than standing in the doorway, watching you, wishing he could hold you.

“That’s it,” Joel praises. “There you go. Bein’ so good for us, sweetheart.” Wetness coats his fingers as he continues to circle your clit until your breath stutters in your chest. He kisses you hard as Tommy’s rhythm begins to slow, eventually stilling completely.

You wince as they both pull their hands away from you at the same time, a synchronized movement.

Tommy pulls the truck into Joel’s driveway and chuckles as he looks at you, skirt still hiked up around your hips, limbs boneless. He strokes the side of your face and kisses your hair. “You’re alright, princess. We’re just gettin’ started.”

Joel climbs out of the truck and adjusts your skirt, holding you with an arm around your waist to ensure your balance until both feet are on the ground. Tommy comes to your side and slides his hand into yours, handing Joel the keys.

While he works to unlock the front door, Joel can’t help but smile at the sound of your sweet giggles. He looks over his shoulder to see his brother kissing your neck and grabbing your ass, and the two of you look so infatuated with one another that it’s intoxicating. A magnetism he can’t help but be drawn to, a warmth he wants to embrace.

The minute you walk in the door you’ve got your hands on Joel again. You slip them beneath his t-shirt and he’s thrilled to give you what you want. He pulls it off over his head, discarding it on the back of the couch, and lets out a pleased sigh as you begin peppering wet kisses over his chest, down his sternum, fingers grabbing needily at his skin.

Tommy stands behind you as you lower yourself to your knees between them. He runs his hands through your hair lovingly and says, “Show him what you do best, baby.”

You smile up at him and it takes Joel’s breath away. He’s never seen someone so pleased to please him, never felt this wanted in all his life. The metal of his belt buckle clinks against the button of his jeans as you undo them, pulling down his zipper in a way that’s familiar to you now.

When you pull his cock out, you wrap one hand around it and guide the tip to your mouth. He’s so hard already that he aches, but the feel of your soft tongue on him grants him ease. You lick every inch of him, an indulgent sort of torture. And then you’re swallowing him down, creating a tight seal with your plush lips.

Your mouth feels like heaven, Joel thinks.

“Look at the way she’s got her legs pressed together,” Tommy murmurs, thumb caressing your temple gently. “Gets so turned on with a dick in her mouth she just doesn’t know what to do with herself.”

“We’re gonna take care of that for you,” Joel says, cupping your jaw in his hand. He shifts it a little lower and can feel the outline of his cock through your throat as you swallow him down, gasping for air you never once ask for. “Gonna take care of everythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

Pleasure coils around his spine, a vise-like grip that threatens to end this night well before he’s ready for it.

Tommy grabs a handful of your hair and draws your head back. Strands of spit still connect you to him and drool runs down your chin. It’s the most pornographic thing he’s ever seen. Tommy laughs and says, “I know, brother. S’almost too good.”

Joel knows it should be a strange thing to hear, but it feels innate. He helps you back to your feet and pulls your shirt over your head while Tommy unzips the back of your skirt and slides it down your legs.

You turn and wrap your arms around Tommy’s neck and he lifts you up in his arms like it’s second nature. Joel supposes it is—the two of you have had a whole lot more practice together than he has. Tommy starts towards the stairs, heading towards Joel’s bedroom, but you let out a whine and reach out for him.

He can’t deny how warm it makes him feel, seeing you all wrapped up in his brother but still reaching for his hand. The smile you give him the moment he touches you makes his heart constrict in his chest. It’s such a soft, intimate moment, and Joel can think of nothing but your conversation on the phone last week.

You worried about catching feelings for me, Joel Miller?

He wasn’t a week ago. But now…? Now, he’s not so sure.

Tommy lays you down in the center of Joel’s bed and the sight of it pushes away his anxiety. You’re so beautiful with your hair splayed out behind you, an angelic sort of halo. The thought crosses his mind that you might have always been meant to exist in his bed.

It feels like second nature to crawl over you, to let his hands roam over your chest, your ribs, your hips. Joel follows each caress with a kiss, mouth following the echo of his hands. He sucks a bruise into your hip, ensuring this moment is real with physical, tangible evidence.

When he gets to the crease of your thigh, Joel sits up and spreads your legs wide. “Look at that,” he whispers. Tommy’s pulling off his worn t-shirt and working on his jeans but pauses long enough to appreciate the sight of your pussy, glossy with arousal and what remains of your first release. “She’s so fuckin’ pretty, ain’t she?”

“Yeah, she is,” Tommy agrees. “Taste’s real pretty, too.” He leans over and presses his mouth to yours, a messy, needy sort of kiss. You whimper as Tommy asks, “What d’you think, princess? Think Joel should get a taste? Hm?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitation. “I want it so bad, Tommy, please.”

“Want it, huh?” Joel slots himself between your thighs, his mouth an inch from where that ache resides. “Maybe we should make her wait a little longer, Tommy. Make her wait ‘til she needs it.”

“No, no, please,” you cry. You buck your hips, trying to find reprieve, but Joel’s hands on your waist hold firm. “I do, I do, I need it, Joel, please, please.”

He looks to his brother to make the decision. Tommy’s got a wicked grin on his face as he watches you writhe on Joel’s sheets. “Think you’ve been real good today. But don’t go forgettin’ your manners, princess. When Joel licks that pretty pussy of yours, you better say thank you.”

The moment he slides his tongue through your slit, your spine bends, arching off the mattress. Your shoulders slump and your breath comes fast. “Oh my god,” you moan. “Thank you, Joel, fuck.”

He tries to give you the same tentative treatment you’ve given him; tracing every inch of you with the flat of his tongue, memorizing the sweet taste, sucking your clit into his mouth. He can feel it pulse with need, and Joel understands the fever.

Your thighs clamp down around his head but Joel doesn’t mind. He just presses his mouth against you harder and flicks his tongue a little faster.

“Tommy,” you whimper. Joel looks up to see your chest heave with each shaking breath. You reach out for his brother with trembling fingers.

“I’m comin', baby,” Tommy says softly. “Don’t you worry.” The mattress dips beneath his weight as he kneels beside you. He cradles your head in his hand, supporting your neck while he eases his cock into your mouth.

It’s the hottest thing Joel Miller has ever seen in his fucking life.

You grind yourself against his face and he supplies the friction you seek. Arousal coats his facial hair, enveloping his senses in nothing but you. Your moans, your taste, your scent—you, you you. He thinks he’ll never want it any other way but this.

Tommy guides your mouth with a hand wrapped in the tangled strands of your hair. He fucks your face and you whimper around his cock like there’s nothing else in the world that could ever compare. He smiles down at you and says, “You’re gonna make her cum, Joel. Can you feel it? Get’s real sloppy when she’s right there, right on the edge.”

Joel groans against you and focuses his mouth on your clit, giving him just enough room to slip a finger inside you to massage that sweet spot.

You stretch your arms above you and fist your hands in the sheets. When you reach the summit, Joel can feel it on his tongue, can feel your pussy tighten around his finger, can feel your thighs shake around his head.

Tommy pulls your head back, giving you a moment to breathe as another orgasm surges through you. Your moans echo in Joel’s room, the prettiest-sounding symphony he’s ever heard. “Good fuckin’ girl,” Tommy praises, just as breathless as you. “Bein’ such a good girl for us, baby.”

Joel doesn’t relent, doesn’t stop licking your clit until you’re giggling and twisting in his hands at the overstimulation. You sound so satisfied, so happy. It pleases him to see the elation on your face. When he finally pulls away, Joel snakes his arms beneath you and pulls you up to your knees. “So good,” Joel agrees. “But she’s gonna give us another one, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

All you can do is nod and it makes both brothers laugh.

“She’s usually got so much to say,” Tommy teases. “Think we’ve got her fucked dumb, brother.”

“That’s alright,” Joel whispers. “We’ll do all the thinkin’ for her, hm? Take such good care of this sweet little pussy. Turn around, baby. On your hands and knees.”

You do as he says blissfully, ass arched beautifully on display for him. Tommy maneuvers himself in front of you and you take him in your mouth on instinct. Second nature, habitual.

Joel positions himself behind you and slides the head of his cock through your slit. “This what you want, sweet girl? This what you dream of?”

Leaning back, you stroke Tommy with your hand and look up at him as you answer Joel’s question. “Yes,” you say. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I saw you. Knew I needed you, Joel. Knew I needed you both.”

“Three’s a crowd, princess,” Tommy says. “But I think I like this one.”

Joel’s inclined to agree. He pushes into you slowly, sighing in contentment at the gratifying tightness. You’re so wet, so warm. “Goddamn, baby,” he groans, gripping the supple flesh of your ass to keep himself tethered to earth, to keep himself grounded.

Tommy holds your face in his hands, smoothing his cock over your lips. “Oh, she likes it, Joel,” he says. “Should see her face. Can I take a picture, baby? So Joel can see how happy you look with his dick all up in your guts? Hm?”

The words are crude but Joel can feel you tighten around him as Tommy speaks. “Mmhm,” is all you can say, sticking your tongue out to lick the underside of Tommy’s cock.

He reaches over to the nightstand where his cell phone sits. Tommy angles his phone just right, and the shutter echoes in the room as he takes his photos.

Joel pushes into you real slow. And when he’s buried to the hilt you let out a gasp and hold onto Tommy’s thigh for support, balance wavering. “It feels so fucking good,” you say.

Tommy takes a couple more photos, tries a couple of different angles. But Joel thinks no image will ever beat the one in front of him.

He watches your pussy stretch to make room for him, watches you soak his cock, desperate for it. Tilting his hips forward, Joel sets a steady pace, easily finding a rhythm that has you moaning out his name.

Satisfied with his work, Tommy sets his phone back on the nightstand in favor of the filthy exhibit before him. He guides his cock back to your mouth, groaning at the feel of your tongue.

Joel thrusts into you and feels that coil begin to form around the base of his spine again.

You’re moaning around Tommy’s cock and he’s smiling like there’s no place else he’d rather be. Joel understands that, too—because he thinks you’re the most perfect girl that could have ever stumbled into their lives. “S’this what you needed, princess? Needed us both, hm? Dirty little girl.”

“Our girl,” Joel muses, captivated by the way you squeeze him as he says it. He fits so perfectly inside you, like you were made for him, made for this. “Stretchin’ her out so easy, brother. Sweet little pussy’s just cryin’ for it.”

Tommy’s head falls back and his hips stutter. “Just like that, princess,” he praises gently. “Yeah, shit—gonna swallow it all like a good little girl, ain’t you?”

You make a sound of approval at the back of your throat. Joel can see you look up at his brother, cock-drunk and starry-eyed, and he feels his chest pull tight with a strange sense of pride.

Joel slows his pace just a little, long enough for Tommy to take what he needs from you, for you to focus on just him. And then he’s breathing hard as he holds your head still, nose pressed against his navel. His shoulders draw tight and then gradually relax as he spills his release at the back of your throat.

When Tommy pulls out of you, his cock is covered in spit and cum but you do as he says, dutifully swallowing it all up like the perfect girl you are. And you even clean any remaining mess with your tongue, licking it up with sweet reverence.

He’s close—so close it aches, but he wants you to give him another before this is other. Wants to make it worth your while, wants to know how it feels to make you cum while he’s buried deep inside you.

You arch your back and press your cheek against the mattress, looking back at Joel from over your shoulder.

Tommy moves to your side, smoothing your hair out of your face with one hand, and then he slips the other beneath you and circles your clit with skilled, deft fingers.

The response is instantaneous. Joel can feel your pussy pulse around him, sees the strain on your face as you fight the pleasure. You say his brother's name like a prayer shrouded in ecstasy.

But Tommy just shakes his head. “Nah, princess. Ain’t up to me this time. You gotta ask Joel permission.”

He doesn’t understand at first, this almost silent communication between the two of you. But then you say, “Joel, please. Please please, I need to cum so bad, it feels too good.”

You sound so fucking pretty, begging for him like that. “Been so good…I think you’ve earned it,” he says gently. “Go ‘head, sweetheart.”

Tommy continues to circle your clit as you clench around Joel’s cock, uttering quiet praises in your ear.

You tighten around him and Joel’s right there, right there—and then you say, “Cum with me, Joel, please. Cum with me, I wanna feel it.”

And it sends him over the edge. His name in your mouth, begging him to fill you up. He buries himself so deep inside you that there’s no telling where he ends and you begin, and it’s the best orgasm he’s ever had in his fucking life.

You shudder beneath him and Joel leans forward, pressing his forehead to your spine. He thrusts into you until the last drop, giving you all of it, giving you everything he has to offer.

As you come down, Tommy pulls his hand from beneath you and combs his fingers through your hair. He’s got that stupid grin on his face, but Joel’s not sure he’s ever seen his brother this happy before.

The three of you just lay there for a moment, saying nothing, unmoving, basking in the afterglow. Joel’s not quite sure how he’s meant to navigate this, not sure what he’s supposed to say or how he’s supposed to feel about the fact that the best sex he’s ever had was with his brother’s little girlfriend.

But he does know how to take care of a woman. So, he does. Joel eases himself out of you and disappears for only long enough to find a washcloth, wet it with cool water from the bathroom sink, and grab an icy bottle of water from the fridge.

When he returns to his bedroom, Tommy holds you in his arms while you speak to him in a hushed tone. It worries him a little, truthfully.

So when Joel sits on the side of his bed to clean the light sheen of sweat off your forehead and the mess between your legs, he asks, “Everythin’ okay?”

“Everything’s good. So, so good,” you answer easily, giving him one of those honeyed smiles.

Tommy takes the bottle of water from Joel’s hand and breaks the seal. “Drink,” he says, passing it to you. And you do, listening so obediently.

But the moment your hands are free again you say, “Joel? Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he says. And he means it. Whatever it is you need, whatever it is you want, Joel wants to give to you. He’s come to understand his brother in this, too.

“Do you think you’d want to…I don’t know. Maybe we could do it again?”

He laughs. Genuinely, truly laughs, because Tommy’s been right this whole time. You’re insatiable.

But you quickly amend your words. Saying, “I mean, not…not now. But maybe…maybe I could stay? For the weekend?”

Joel finds the thought of you leaving at the end of the night an unbearable one. And he knows he’ll likely feel the same once Sunday evening rolls around, and he’s not quite sure what that means for him or you or Tommy…but maybe it’s not something he has to worry about today.

He kisses your forehead and says, “‘Course you can, sweetheart.”

And then you’re reaching for him again, urging him beneath the sheets. You lay your head on Joel’s chest and drape your leg over Tommy’s hip, and you look so at ease, so peaceful that his heart constricts at the sight. You’re so good, so sweet, and Joel thinks he’d do anything to keep you happy.

Later, as your soft snores and shallow breaths fill the silence, Tommy playfully kicks Joel in the shin and says, “Ain’t no use tryin’ to talk yourself off the ledge, brother. Easier to just enjoy the freefall. Take it day by day.”

Joel thinks his brother might be right. Thinks that this might get complicated and messy and dangerous…but for now, for today…he’ll savor the sugary sweetness while it lasts.

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were--ralph · 1 year ago

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why exactly do you dislike generative art so much? i know its been misused by some folks, but like, why blame a tool because it gets used by shitty people? Why not just... blame the people who are shitty? I mean this in genuinely good faith, you seem like a pretty nice guy normally, but i guess it just makes me confused how... severe? your reactions are sometimes to it. There's a lot of nuance to conversation about it, and by folks a lot smarter than I (I suggest checking out the Are We Art Yet or "AWAY" group! They've got a lot on their page about the ethical use of Image generation software by individuals, and it really helped explain some things I was confused about). I know on my end, it made me think about why I personally was so reactive about Who was allowed to make art and How/Why. Again, all this in good faith, and I'm not asking you to like, Explain yourself or anything- If you just read this and decide to delete it instead of answering, all good! I just hope maybe you'll look into *why* some people advocate for generative software as strongly as they do, and listen to what they have to say about things -🦜

if Ai genuinely generated its own content I wouldn't have as much of a problem with it, however what Ai currently does is scrape other people's art, collect it, and then build something based off of others stolen works without crediting them. It's like. stealing other peoples art, mashing it together, then saying "this is mine i can not only profit of it but i can use it to cut costs in other industries.

this is more evident by people not "making" art but instead using prompts. Its like going to McDonalds and saying "Burger. Big, Juicy, etc, etc" then instead of a worker making the burger it uses an algorithm to build a burger based off of several restaurant's recepies.

example

the left is AI art, the right is one of the artists (Lindong) who it pulled the art style from. it's literally mass producing someone's artstyle by taking their art then using an algorithm to rebuild it in any context. this is even more apparent when you see ai art also tries to recreate artists watermarks and generally blends them together making it unintelligible.

Aside from that theres a lot of other ethical problems with it including generating pretty awful content, including but not limited to cp. It also uses a lot of processing power and apparently water? I haven't caught up on the newer developements i've been depressed about it tbh

Then aside from those, studios are leaning towards Ai generation to replace having to pay people. I've seen professional voice actors complain on twitter that they haven't gotten as much work since ai voice generation started, artists are being cut down and replaced by ai art then having the remaining artists fix any errors in the ai art.

Even beyond those things are the potential for misinformation. Here's an experiment: Which of these two are ai generated?

ready?

These two are both entirely ai generated. I have no idea if they're real people, but in a few months you could ai generate a Biden sex scandal, you could generate politics in whatever situation you want, you can generate popular streamers nude, whatever. and worse yet is ai generated video is already being developed and it doesn't look bad.

I posted on this already but as of right now it only needs one clear frame of a body and it can generate motion. yeah there are issues but it's been like two years since ai development started being taken seriously and we've gotten to this point already. within another two years it'll be close to perfected. There was even tests done with tiktokers and it works. it just fucking works.

There is genuinely not one upside to ai art. at all. it's theft, it's harming peoples lives, its harming the environment, its cutting jobs back and hurting the economy, it's invading peoples privacy, its making pedophilia accessible, and more. it's a plague and there's no vaccine for it. And all because people don't want to take a year to learn anatomy.

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fireflowersims · 1 month ago

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Sims 2 "kiosks" aka: Someone stole my code and I am not happy

Okay, I'm gonna be honest about this because it's seriously bothering me. I hesitated to say something about this for a long time because I do not want to platform that code thief. I'm also not a fan of drama, I know how stressful that is for all parties and I normally try to stay out of it. Unfortunately, this theft just keeps coming back and seriously upsetting me so I have to say something about this.

My code has been stolen. To be exact: the vendor code from Sun&Moon. To be specific: a very specific version of the Laundry mod.

And by stealing, I mean passing off someone else's work as their own and encouraging others to utilize said stolen code.

Who did it? @sissysims

Sissysims stole the vendor code, made it into a "template" and even made a tutorial telling people how to use said template to make a "kiosk". After the publication, a number of people created "kiosks" using this stolen code. Notably: @simulationprincess and @grilledcheese-aspiration. I do not blame them from thinking it is a neat concept. Because it is. That's why we built those vendors.

It is seriously upsetting though to see our work going fully uncredited and sissy-sims receiving all the credit and praise. I have tried leaving a comment under her youtube video, but she must have hidden or blocked it, as it does not show up at all. She has also disabled private messages on her Tumblr. Basically, there is no way I can get in contact with her directly. So unfortunately, I feel like this is the only way to get my message out: in public.

But how can I verify that this is stolen code?

Good question. I have recorded a little video with my proof. One-take, no editing. Should she choose to try to scrub her evidence, it will remain up.

youtube

So why am I this upset about it?

I am upset because of a variety of reasons:

Somebody is passing off my work as their own. Not only disrespecting me, mind you, but also the others who contributed to the vendor, most notably: the amazing people who translated that vendor. Yes, it is because of translations that I know that she directly stole our work. She not only stole my code, she had the nerve to steal my own words as well! I can literally see the Dutch translation that I wrote myself in there and if that isn't pissing and shitting on my head, I don't know what is

Sissysims does not know what she is doing object-creation wise. The Sun&Moon vendor code is among the easiest Sun&Moon code there is. It is simple and elegant. She decided to make it a mess requiring multiple files for some guobforsaken reason. Possibly to make it seem like it isn't straight up stolen code, who knows. Just speculating. Regardless, someone who knows what they're doing wouldn't have done what she did to that poor vendor.

Sissysims does not have the basic knowledge of how BHAVs work. The vendor code she stole uses custom globals, (something that we always clearly indicate). Naturally, she does not seem aware of this. Anyone using her "template" (read: what did she do to my darling vendor 😭) risks getting bugs because sissy-sims is incompetent and doesn't know what she's doing

Sissysims is encouraging other people to use stolen code that she herself does not understand

This is an explicit violation of the Sun&Moon policy. And also probably why she didn't bother even mentioning us. Other "edits" she has done are credited. She chose of her own free will not to bother crediting.

If she has done it to us, who is to say she won't do it to someone else in the future?

She has a fucking merch store and clearly has aspirations to earn money from her Sims videos, monetarily profiting from - among other things - the stolen code.

So what now?

If you want to create a "kiosk", please don't use that mutilated template. Just reach out to me and I can teach you how to make a vendor. It's easier and technically set up much better than sissy's poor excuse of a "template". And if it turns out the vendor doesn't do exactly what you would like it to do, then I can help you figure out how you can code something that does tick all the boxes.

If you already made one, I kindly, humbly, request you add credit. It is quite upsetting to see my work going uncredited. Or better yet: reach out as well. The offer to teach you the vendor code to make something better is also open to you. I enjoy teaching people new things if they only ask politely and are willing to learn.

If there is enough interest, I can even release an official vendor template with instructions. Simple to work with, the only requirement being proper crediting. Let me know if you'd be interested in this.

If you're sissysims:

Reconsider your choices and most importantly:

✨May you step on a LEGO brick✨

#sims 2 #sims 2 modding #fire flower speaks #what more is there to say #this has been bothering me for months #sims 2 kiosk #ts2 #Youtube #sissysims

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inthelittlewood · 8 months ago

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So, just out of curiosity, are you thinking of making episodes for rats 2 like you did for all the other pow creations smps? If not, that's okay (:

I'm really not sure currently. For full transparency, the previous episodes of both series made on average about £40 individually. The occasional one flicked up to NEARLY £100, but they're real anomalies. Thumbnail costs take up a good portion of that 40, then what's left, divided by the hours it takes to condense masses of content down to episode form would be a wage grossly below minimum wage. It's not smart financially or motivationally to proceed that way.

I've always been proud of the end products of each episode / series but I had revenue coming from other sources that have since dried up. I can't make purely artistic decisions when I have mouths to feed and a home to maintain.

I've been quiet on video content this year because I've not had an SMP play in, so streaming became a primary earner. Even that was propped up significantly by our Logitech/Streamlabs sponsorship - which concluded unexpectedly early at the end of September due to budget adjustments on their end (zero bad feelings regarding that btw, it was all done fairly and by the contract, it was quarterly renewals and I was communicated respectfully with)

I'm lucky that Wild Life has come along when it has, as it gives me a little breathing room to try and secure a new sponsor or at least compile a content plan for late 2024 / early 2025.

Even my Life series barely pass the threshold to where an editor wouldn't gobble up the majority of the revenue. That one is a real 50/50 between coming out net neutral, or coming out with a minimal profit. It's rough. Speaking honestly, I'm a tad nervous about the immediate future, but I promise this isn't a post trying to rouse pity or spur on donations/subs etc, it's just transparency as I've always operated. It feels better laying it out so analytically because it gives people context and answers the FAQ of "why don't you just hire someone", the overhead isn't there.

I'm going to start putting the feelers out to try and secure a new partnership, I have one conversation pending and if we can I'll nab some sponsored streams more often to raise the tides.

That said, we are headed in to the best time of year for ad revenue on YouTube especially, but it's not quite the 5x multiplier I would need to sensibly navigate my situation ha

The only viable solution currently would be to crowd source funds to cover the costs of the work for making the episodes, whether that be paid to me and I edit them myself or more ideally, an editor, so I can focus my efforts in to producing another piece of content. I've no idea what the Patreon/Kofi/Crowdfunding landscape is like currently both mechanically and socially. Are they a thing people subscribe to anymore? They inherently come with more pressures too which I'm nervous to take on.

I'm likely to get inbox messages offering to edit for free or at a reduced fee, but PLEASE DON'T DO THAT. Even if you're framing it as good practice, or a portfolio/client list piece, I wouldn't feel comfortable with that. It's a very sweet gesture and I totally understand showing that initiative / sincerity, I've been there, but those scenarios can too often be miscommunicated or misconstrued and it gets messy. People's time and talents deserve compensation.

So tl;dr answer is I'm not sure, I might try an episode 1 to see how it performs, but it's not looking great. Sorry.

#inthelit #ratssmp #rats smp

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imsobadatnicknames2 · 1 year ago

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I think your RPG takes are really good :) I enjoy D&D 5e to some extent (like, it's fine), but I feel D&D's market dominance isn't great. But what gets me the most is how incurious many people who play D&D 5e to the exclusion of other games are. No interest in seeing anything that deviates from how D&D does things.

Yeah! This is a point I've tried to make clear too, like... ultimately if someone WANTS to stick to 5e that's not my problem. If they want to use heavily homebrewed 5e for a Doctor Who or Cyberpunk or Homestuck campaign or whatever and their table has fun with it like. Okay, I personally wouldn't do that but I also have no right to tell anyone to NOT do that.

But the moment they get so entrenched in that idea of "You can use 5e to do ANYTHING" that they start acting like someone else wanting to use anything other than heavily homebrewed 5e for anything is some ridiculous or preposterous idea that's when I have a problem with them. Especially when the people who think like that are a statistically significant enough portion of the tabletop public to affect business decisions in the hobby.

Like. One of the saddest cases I've seen in recent memory, the upcoming Adventure Time ttrpg from Cryptozoic was initially pitched as having its own system, only to later end up being switched to 5e. And considering that the initial Dicebreaker article that came out months before this announcement featured quotes from one of the developers about why they decided to use their own system and why they thought D&D wouldn't work well with the narrative flow they wanted for the game, and also that the reason given for the switch to 5e was "feedback from fans", it's clear that this is not a decision they made because they WANTED to make a 5e hack, but because they NEEDED to make it a 5e hack in order for it to be profitable because there's just such a huge portion of the tabletop public that got pulled into the hobby with 5e and is so fundamentally incurious that they won't touch a book with a 10-foot pole unless it some form of "5e compatible" logo on the cover.

#ttrpg

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chrolloluvr · 1 year ago

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Hi, happy to see you back❤. I remember in one of your previous works, you mentioned Mammon possibly would babytrap reader. May you please write something on this topic?

♡ Toxic!Mammon: Babytrapping Hcs ♡

Note: Ty! Also she is referring to this post. THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REQUESTS!!! KEEP THEM COMING POOKIES! ALSO IK I HAVENT MADE AN ACTUAL POST IN A WHILE SO HERE YALL GO

Female!reader, AFAB

Warnings: NSFW, toxic themes, creampie, future child, exploiting

He will babytrap you, 100%

As I have said before, Mammon likes the idea of having complete control over you, your life, and everything you do. And what better of a way to do that than making you bear his child?

He gets this magical, invasive idea when talking to one of his work buddies. He was talking about how annoying you were, even though he cannot live without you, when his co-worker mentions how much responsibility and care a woman has for her children. And the idea hits him. If you are just going to sit around lazily all day like a spoiled brat, why not add a child into the mix?

So he will have you prowled up against his chest, his cock basically stuffing you full, as he pistons in and out of your already sore pussy. Seemingly out of nowhere, telling you

"You'd be such a good mother, wouldn't you babe."

"'Wanna see you swoll with my kids, wouldn't that be somethin'-"

Which makes you feel physically ill. Raising a child with Mamm would be basically impossible. You would never raise a child with this man. Would he support you? Would he genuinley care for your baby? Oh Satan, would he even care-

Your thoughts are abrupted as Mammon stuffs you with his seed, finishing inside yours walls and painting them with a loud groan. He gives your ass a harsh slap, as he watches his cum spilling out of you. He looks you in the eyes, and gives you a daunty chuckle. He forces you to look up at him with your tired, exhausted eyes, as he tells you ohoho babe, we aren't finished until i'm done, alright?.

And he keeps that promise, with the goal of getting you pregnant. He knows the public would go feral. The King of Greed? With a child? It gives him a publicity boost, which in turn, is good for his business, and his image.

Once you find out you are pregnant, you have to eventually tell Mammon, to your dismay. Every day, he makes you take an on brand pregnancy test as he watches. He will hold the test while you pee. Yes you heard me right. So when the test says positive one day, he is over the moon. Not at the fact that he is going to be a father, but at the fact that he is now in complete control over you, and that he can use another part of you as a pawn in his twisted fantasy.

The paparazzi have a field day over this news, because he ends up almost immediately making an announcement. There are headlines, candid photos of you going forcefully outside by mammon, etc. Its like a never ending nightmare. And dont be mistaken, he would never let you out of his sights, or get an abortion. He thinks this is too good of an opportunity.

Behind closed doors, he will actually treat you very well. Feeding you, paying attention to your every need, and not letting you lift a finger. He may even go out of his way to find some stuff by himself at the store. He'll will make you go outside with him. But at times he has to do a meeting, or host an event, he will have his goons escort you places, making sure you go public routes, to get a really good look at your swollen belly.

Brings you to meetings during this time, and picking your outfits carefully. He cant have his darling wearing any disgusting maternity clothes. So he will have you perches on his lap while he sits in his seat, embarrassment eating you whole as you see the sins/overlords snickering and bickering presumably at you. He has one hand rubbing your round belly, and one hand rubbing your shoulders as Mammon discusses his newest buisness plan.

He would create a Mammon Baby Care line. He knows he will profit off your pregnancy

"Alright fellas, so i was thinking for the ladys, a Mammon breast pump, hm? Its great right? Oh! And Mammon themed bibs, ha! Sure to make me a bunch, right babes?"

People think, how could you let Mammon knock you up? Of course, millions of girls idolize Mammon, and would want to be with him. But sometimes it feels like you are the only one who is infatuated with him. So you will try to look past the fact that he got you pregnant. You'll just try to be hopeful. But it is literally impossible with the way he keeps sweet talking you, as you snap back into the sad reality that you will be having Mammons child, and raising it. No questions to be asked.

He will lead you to subconsciously feel insecure about you and your body. He will squeeze your newly chubby cheeks, glaze his fingers over your stretch marks newly littering your body, etc. And he definitely does that on purpose.

As you reach up to the half full Nutella jar in the high cabinet in the kitchen, you hear a pair of loud footsteps coming behind you. Its Mammon. You try your best to ignore him, but you cant help but feel uneasy when you feel a pair of familiar eyes on you. It is currently 1:30 AM, and he is in a really tired mood.

"You need help sweets?"

He said with a suckle voice, knowing its affects on you are vast. He looks you up and down, admiring your perfect body in his mind. Your curves, belly, and the look your giving him. It makes him want to just bend you over and fuck your brains out likes theres no tomorrow. But he cant, he just has to be extra agile with you.

"Mamm..."

"Yeah?"

"Do I look fat?"

Ohhh boy. The question you always ask when you feel like he's eyeing you up. he hates when you ask that, because then he has to make up some half assed excuse to why he's looking at you a certain way. When your pregnant, he basically has to walk on eggshells around you.

"You... look like your carrying my child, and I like the sight of that."

"Okay, do you love me?"

He pauses. One wrong answer, and you'll refuse to talk to him for weeks. You two, as of your relationship, are in a really good spot right now. You will basically do anything for him. But you are really sensitive emotionally and physically, due to your hormones.

As he walks up behind you, he lifts you up by your waist, and hold you up to the cabinet, letting you reach.

"Y/N."

He says in a low, gruff voice.

"Yeah Mamm?"

"What the hell kind of question is that. Of course I love you."

He says as you look at him, face to face. You watch his eyes never leave yours, which makes you break off eye contact in a flustered state. You then realize that he is holding you, which makes you feel insecure.

"Okay, I love you too Mamm"

"Alright, now get your sweet treat, and get the fuck to bed, and hurry up. We've got a busy day tomorrow sweets."

He sets you down, and leaves the kitchen, leaving you with yourself, your Nutella and a spoon in hand. You look down at yourself, and your huge stomach. You wonder how you got yourself into this twisted predicament. You mostly worry about your baby's future as Mammons child. Because you are aware that Mammon will only use them for his own monetary gain. You cannot escape this man, even if you try. But you can always pretend you have your own free will, and you could always just eat your silly thoughts away, as Mammon always told you.

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pheonix561 · 7 months ago

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Why on earth wouldn't they give Nancy Parker her Reward Money?

I can't fathom it. It's got to be the stupidest decision all the agencies offering reward money could possibly make.

Luigi is being hailed as a folk hero. Deeply popular sentiment that american healthcare is broken and that people like Brian Thompson were profiting off it. News agencies trying to publish articles and push stories about why Luigi was actually a terrible person, and viewers and readers refusing to agree, no matter the political lean of whatever news outlet is publishing it. Luigi Mangione's got the popular vote.

The people who own these agencies and fund these police agencies offer a reward to anyone who can give information that leads to the capture of Luigi Mangione. They do it from this platform of, "Look, this is the right thing to do. Help us capture this guy who murdered someone in cold blood. The system works, and we want to prove it." And, they manage to find someone who wants to agree with them. Somebody who works a low paying, high stress job where she will always be seen as expendable, who is just not benefiting from "the system" at all, and still wants to cooperate. She spots the suspect, she calls 911, they catch him. And then they tell her "Oh, you're not eligible for the reward, because you didn't do it through the proper channel. It was supposed to be through crime stoppers, and you called 911." Or, at least, that how I understand it this morning.

I mean, just pretend for a second the people who run united healthcare know how terrible their system is for the consumers. As if they can clearly and definitely see from their position how unpopular they are, that some random could execute them on the sidewalk on any given morning and be met with nationwide acclaim. It's just in their best interest to prove to people that Luigi was wrong, and a bad guy, and that good people aren't like Luigi. And they found one person, one everyday working class lady, who was willing to put her name and reputation on the line. And what do they do? They screw her out of the money.

I mean, it's such a perfect example to point to about how health insurance fails in america, and why they're so hated. Is this more of that deny, delay, defend, for the pay out? Are they expecting Nancy to appeal, or to sue, to get the $60,000? She did what they wanted her to do, they benefited from her doing it, and when it comes time for them to repay her in kind, they skip out on the bill because she didn't say it perfectly. Does she get to have Luigi Mangione returned to her, as a refund?

I mean really, I think I've been looking at these companies and alphabet agencies as perfectly intelligent, calculating, and malicious. But by screwing over the lady they were relying on to catch the guy they were looking for, I mean, the only conclusion I can draw is they really are, truly, just greedy and short sighted.

#luigi mangione #united healthcare #uhc shooter #uhc assassin #nancy parker #mcdonalds #snitch

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cobaltperun · 7 months ago

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Eternal Flame (15) - Why’d you only call me when you’re high

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Chapter summary: A drunken night ruins all of Jenna's plans, but considering the results she wouldn't have it any other way.

Spotify playlist

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next part

Word Count: 4.7k

-Decided that once again I was just dreaming of bumping into you-

You felt free, finally going through your days without feeling all of that weight on your shoulders, and you were busy cleaning up all of the mistakes you made. You had to do it before you had the chance to see Jenna again, and there was still one more person from you past you needed to settle your score with, at least in a way.

Surprisingly, it was raining today and you forgot your umbrella, but frankly you didn't really care. You felt good and no amount of rain could change that, besides even through all of the rain you could occasionally see a ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds, and it just made you happy. No matter how long the rain would last, the sunlight would eventually break through the clouds, as cliche as that sounded.

You went and walked through the doors of the gym, taking off the hood from your head as you did so. You looked around, contemplating the decisions that led you here. Despite everything that happened and the fact that he pulled you into that, you couldn't deny that Davis also gave you a job, an actual proper job at this gym that could sustain you if you chose to quit fighting.

“Not exactly a busy day,” you said as you approached his desk. Why he kept the desk in the gym instead of having an office was beyond you, but it made things easier for you now. It only now crossed your mind, but now that you thought about it maybe that was how he spotted the potential fighters. You looked over the guys working out, seeing as those were his usual targets for recruitment, and wondered if any of them would take the chance if he offered it.

“Is it? I barely noticed,” sarcasm slipped through his façade of indifference, but he didn't look mad at you. Not that you really cared if he was mad, but he certainly didn't look mad. “Come and sit. Do you want something to drink or maybe grab a meal? I can order something,” hell, he seemed somewhat happy to see you.

“No, I'm good. I just wanted to come by and thank you,” you said, though you did take a seat. No matter how those fights affected your life you couldn't deny that they did give you a chance to save your parents, and later down the line, even if you did do it for different reasons, they did give you enough money to finish high school without having to spread yourself thin and find a full time job.

Davis looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “It was just business. You fought and we both earned money, I gave you a job here and your dedication to it brought me more money. At the end of the day we both profited from this arrangement.”

That was one way to look at it, and you didn’t lie to yourself, Davis did none of it out of the goodness of his heart. He just saw profit and took his chance, a businessman through and through, only connected to rather brutal business.

“You took a chance, one most people wouldn't,” he saw the desperation and found away to cash it in, cruel, but beneficial for both of you. And in a way because of that there was one more thing you wanted to do, a rather ridiculous thing to do, but you wanted the clean slate. So, you went and pulled out a fairly large envelope from your jacket and you placed it in front of him.

“What's this?” he asked and your shrugged.

“$128,000, the exact amount I earned after my parents died, for thirty wins and eight losses. I got paid so I'm giving it all back. I’m starting over so I want to completely separate myself from that time of my life. I know this doesn't erase it. nothing will ever erase it, but in some way, it feels like almost filthy money. Not in the: ‘I did something illegal’ way but in the ‘I did something I shouldn’t have’ way,” you've been thinking about it for a while now, ever since you decided to quit fighting, and you got paid enough from the movies you did lately so you could afford this.

Davis didn't think it over for one bit, he just pushed the envelope back to you. “So, then donate this to some charity. Help some people in need. I don't care how you feel about this money, but you earned it with blood and sweat, and all the effort you put into being able to fight like that. You want a clean slate? You'll never get it, accept that it was a part of you and try to do some good with it if you really want to make up for whatever hurt this caused to you or your loved ones,” he said and you found yourself considering his words. You offered the money to him, he didn't take it, so you took it back.

“Sure, you got any charity you want me to donate this to?” you asked as you got up.

“Make a wish,” his answer was immediate, and for a moment you put it all together and nodded, silently acknowledging just how similar the two of you might have been. You’d never know for sure, and you didn’t need to know for sure.

“Take care,” you turned to leave, understanding that this was the last time you would ever talk to this man. There would never be a reason for him or you to reach out to one another again.

“You too, kid. Don't go finding another person to recruit you into fights,” he replied and you raised your hand, waving slightly as you walked out of the gym.

~X~

It was late at night when Jenna stumbled through the motel, back to her room, smelling like booze and smoke, and just feeling downright awful with the headache already starting. She felt like throwing up, as if everything else wasn’t already enough. She’s been getting somewhat drunk over the past month, seeing as she could legally drink here, and her co-stars didn't mind having some fun. But tonight was just a completely different beast! She went bar hopping with Scott, and was now damn near blackout drunk as she stumbled into her room.

The alcohol hit her hard, and she should have guessed that would happen when she began mixing it. She just fell onto her bed, sick and tired of the smell that was now stuck to her clothes. She really needed to get up and go to the bathroom to freshen up, to wash her face and maybe throw up, she wasn’t sure, and she needed to drink something for her headache and the inevitable hangover.

So, she pushed herself to her feet and nearly tripped on her way to the bathroom. She wasn't even happy, she progressively got more miserable with every shot she took. With every drop of alcohol she just missed you more and more.

A cynical voice in her head invaded her mind as she began washing her face after throwing up, telling her she's gotten so far as an actress. Months ago, she got so self-conscious about her feelings for you that she couldn't black out and kiss you, yet here she was, just days ago filming a scene where she was stripped down to her underwear, crawling over to a guy 19 years older than her. If you were there you would have first of all made sure she was completely comfortable, like you did before you were supposed to kiss. She pushed through the scene, thankful that she didn’t have lines in it, because she was just thinking about you through it all.

The cynical voice kept mocking her, taunting her as she remembered the one and only time her lips touched yours. The way you so softly caressed her cheek, how right the kiss felt for her, and in her drunken state she caught herself wondering yet again just how she allowed herself to throw it all away.

She barely remembered to turn the water off, before she took her clothes off and went to the chair she left your shirt on. The feel of your shirt against her skin felt right, and Jenna glanced at the mirror. The shirt looked more like a rather short dress on her, and she went back to the bed, dropping on it before covering herself with your jacket. As the days passed she’s been getting more and more attached to these two articles of clothing, at this point they might as well be her own. Nothing about them reminded her of you anymore, other than just knowing that they were once yours. She's washed the shirt so many times that even trying to figure out what perfume you used wouldn’t help.

Yet, they still somehow brought her comfort. Just a few more days, just a few more unbearable days without you, and then she could try to fix what she did.

She wasn't exactly in the right state of mind, too drunk to even consider the consequences or think about how it would affect her decision to make sure your first contact would be face to face. She just opened her camera and snapped a picture of herself laying on the bed, your jacket thrown off and next to her, and she looked at the camera while her fingers tugged at the collar of your shirt.

And she went and sent it to you, not even caring about what time it was where you were. Hell, she wasn’t even completely aware of what time it was, she just knew it was the middle of the night, and that you should be sleeping. She didn’t even consider how this would look. Or that the first thing you would get from her wasn't even an apology or a plea to meet up, but rather a photo of her looking drunk.

She tossed her phone aside, her mind drifting to everything that happened between you. How you would hold her, lift her up, hug her, how it felt to you have your arms around her. How soft your cheeks felt against her lips, or how she felt butterflies in her stomach whenever she could feel your own lips on her skin. Jenna remembered all that in vivid detail as she drifted between being asleep and awake, just barely opening her eyes to see if you got the message. She considered sending you another one, though she didn't even have any ideas why. She just felt like doing it, besides, she’s been getting the chance to see your photos from the vacation every now and then, and she was sure you didn't know about that. So maybe it was just fair of her to let you see her now. And then she checked the messages and was immediately startled awake when she saw ‘delivered’ changing to ‘seen’.

“Oh shit!” she watched with bated breath as you did nothing. You didn't start typing, you just saw the message and in her panicked state and fear that you were now absolutely furious at her she hit the call button frantically.

The seconds almost felt as if each one lasted for an eternity, and then finally, you picked up.

“Jen?” you said her nickname, not even her name, but the nickname! And she just wasn't even sure how she felt about it, despite how much she loved hearing you say it. On one hand the relief flooded her entire body, on the other hand she felt like crying, because after all that happened the first word to come out of your mouth was her nickname. “Are you OK? Say something, please,” she heard you sitting up frantically, and for a moment she wondered if you were as nervous as she was.

“I’m not OK, I miss you,” she once again felt sick in her stomach and this time it had nothing to do with alcohol she consumed, although she guessed that only amplified everything now.

“Jen, focus on my voice. Take a deep breath for me, you'll be fine,” you spoke so softly, and she didn't feel like she deserved it. You immediately, without any apology or explanation from her, slipped right back into that same protective nature, calming her down before her anxiety could take over. “Can you do that for me?”

“I can,” she took a deep breath, audible enough for you to hear, and the sigh of relief coming from your side was almost enough to make her cry.

“Just like that, Jen, you're doing great. Focus on something else, think of being somewhere where you're not alone,” you instructed her, and Jenna knew exactly where she wanted to be.

“I want to be with you. I want you to hug me and lift me up, and take me in your arms and just-“ she suppressed a sob as best as she could. “I just want to feel you all around me, Y/N,” she buried her face in her pillow, trying to cover up her sobs.

“I can't do much from here, maybe, I don’t know, do you want to FaceTime?” you offered but she couldn't accept that, she couldn’t let you see just how broken she was by all of this, by this overwhelmingly long distance between you, and now by this sudden development. You were talking to her, she was listening to your voice, and it felt like nothing changed.

“It's not the same,” she wanted to, if she ever had the rights to do something like that again, feel you in every way she could think of. To give you everything she had, to let you take anything you wanted as long as you stayed by her side.

“I know, I miss you too,” those words filled her with warmth, and despite tears she smiled. “I wanted to see you, I want to explain myself and apologize for what happened,” you had nothing to apologize for in Jenna’s mind. You weren't the one who was refusing to see things from another perspective, you weren't the one who rejected her, she was the one who did all that, she was the one who couldn't see past the initial negative reaction she had.

“I’m the one who messed up,” she argued, crying out of despair and sorrow.

“Jen, don’t. Don’t think like that, it was a natural reaction to what you found out. There is nothing wrong with how you reacted. Jenna, listen to me, I will never blame you for anything that happened these past three months. You had every right to react like that, I kept a secret I should have never kept from you,” why were you so damn understanding when she hurt you so much. When she let things go to far, when she didn’t immediately, right in front of you, berate her father for what he did to you.

“I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make it up to you,” she whispered, wondering if she would ever be able to forgive herself because while you clearly weren't angry with her, she still struggled to forgive herself.

“How about we start over, hmm? We acknowledge what happened and move on,” despite all the negative emotions she felt this idea still made her feel happy. That was what she wanted, more than anything, to just once again have you in her life.

“I want that, I want all of you, Y/N,” and your breath hitched at that, and Jenna just realized she said the same thing she said when you were over at her parents’ house. “I want to give you all of me, anything you want.”

“You have all of me, you've had all of me for a long time now, hell before I even knew it,” she trusted every word you said. Did you even notice how easily you stopped her before her panic attack could even begin? That was how easily you affected her, how much just hearing your voice meant to her. That was how safe you made her feel, because being vulnerable felt right as long as it was with you.

“I don't know how to make my parents understand,” she admitted, hoping you would somehow put her mind to ease about that concern as well.

“I'll make an effort. I'll get them to see I'm not a danger to you,” you decided so easily, yet she didn't want that.

“That's not what I want, Y/N. You shouldn't have to prove anything to them, my dad punched you, pointed a gun at you, my entire family has been against you and if anyone should make an effort it's them,” yet, though she felt that, she had no idea how to get there. Enrique tried his best, he told them everything he told her, yet they barely listened. They acknowledged that he probably had the point, but in their eyes, it was too late now. The mistakes were made, the resentment had infected your relationship with them in their eyes. So, at this point they were choosing the easier path for them, even if the cost was her own happiness. They thought that they could just brush everything under the rug, ignore the problem and face no repercussions, because she couldn't cut them out of her life. And they knew how much they mattered to her, that she couldn't ever choose anyone if it meant cutting them off.

So, they wouldn't make that effort, hoping that their silence would perhaps chase you away. And Jenna hated it. Deep down she knew that she needed both you and her family in her life, and yet she feared that lack of effort on their part would make her lose you. That you wouldn’t be able to take it.

“I don't care,” you just shattered that concern into pieces. “I don't care who's right or wrong here. I don't care who needs to apologize, all I want is you. Jen, if having you in my life means I have to deal with awkward family reunions, or constant concerns or questions, or anything your parents can throw at me, I don't care, I still want you. This is our relationship, and I will never jeopardize it for another person, no matter who they are and no matter what they did. And I will never ask you to sacrifice anything, let alone your relationship with your family for us. So, whatever concern you have we'll get through it.”

You've never been like this before. This open and vulnerable. Something changed within you since you left Coachella on that day, and she wasn't sure what it was. But, she could feel it in every word you spoke. You had something worth fighting for, your relationship with her, and there was nothing that could make you stop fighting, nothing other than Jenna herself telling you she didn't want it. And for the first time in her life Jenna fully believed this between you was permanent. That no matter what happened or who tried to get between the two of you she knew that she was yours for the rest of her life, and if your words were any indication, you were hers as well.

“You're too much,” she managed a weak laugh, broken up by sobs. “I need you next to me so much, Y/N, need to feel you, to love you,” you were too much in the best way possible. Loving her so intensely and she found herself just giving in to it, just hoping she could love you with the same intensity.

“I'm just in love,” you said surprising her once again tonight.

It just slipped right out of her mouth as well. “I'm in love too. I love you,” as if everything else she said about how much she needed and wanted you wasn't enough of a confession, she just went and said it.

“I love you, Jenna,” she swore she could hear the smile in your words, and she was sure you were grinning. She closed her eyes and though she desperately wanted to keep this going she knew she was just about to fall asleep.

“I don't think I can stay awake for much longer,” she yawned, relieved and happy now.

“Sleep well, Love,” and you both kind of laughed at that, because that was exactly how your character called Tara. Thinking about it now, there were quite a few similarities between you and Jenna and your character and Tara.

“Stay with me until I fall asleep, please,” she asked, knowing it wouldn't take her long to fall asleep.

“Of course, I am right here, I'm not leaving you again,” you whispered and even if you were on the other side of the world Jenna felt closer to you than even back when the two of you were watching Logan.

~X~

The dream last night was the best one she had in months, the only thing that could have made it better was if you were actually physically present during the conversation instead of talking over the phone, but she figured that gave the dream some kind of plausibility and made it feel more real. “I should never drink again, that was a mistake,” Jenna groaned, burying her face in her hands, only to hear her phone dropping onto the mattress. Why was her phone in her hand? She looked at it, puzzled. She must have fallen asleep with it, it was probably nothing to be worried about. Jenna sat up and looked down at herself, blushing. Oh, she really got drunk last night. She’s fallen asleep like this before, wearing your shirt, but this was a new low even for her. She had absolutely nothing underneath it.

And then she unlocked her phone, and her eyes widened as she came face to face with not only your messages open, but a phone call that she initiated. And above it all? A picture of her and she looked downright inappropriate on it, especially considering she had nothing underneath your shirt. She was tugging at the color of your shirt, her hair was a mess, a sleeve of your jacket could be seen next to her head, and why was she sucking in her damn lower lip like that?!

She may have been overreacting, but frankly she couldn’t tell. This this was the first thing you got from her in two and a half months? This thing was the first thing you saw? And with the way she was looking at the camera in the photo she might as well have written ‘fuck me’ on the photo! And then she had the guts to call you, ruining everything she's so meticulously planned. What did she even say to you?! And then it hit her at the time she was calling you it was already past four in the morning where you were! She woke you up, she went and woke you up drunk and emotional and who knows what else, and that dream wasn't a dream it was actually reality and it all came back to her as if in an instant! As the memories flooded her Jenna wasn't sure whether to scream, cry, laugh, or explode with happiness, because she didn't want it to turn out this way but she got the results! She told you everything she wanted to tell you, and she said it so clumsily just throwing it all at you in the complete opposite way of how she planned to do it.

And it worked!

It not only worked, but you said you loved her back!

Just like that, one conversation, ten minutes. That's all it took for two and a half months of tension, despair, frustration, depression, loneliness, longing, and hundreds of different things she couldn't even think of right now as her migraine made her head feel like it would explode, all end. All it took to fix all of that was ten minutes of drunken rambling and crying and telling you everything she felt.

Oh, why the fuck didn't she just do it before?! If all she had to do to fix all of this was to just grab a shit-ton of alcohol, and pour it down her throat, then she should have done it sooner!

Right, that all happened… and now she was looking at the plane ticket for Denver she booked, and the eighteenth couldn’t come sooner.

~X~

Despite all the eagerness she felt when she boarded the plane from New Zealand to Denver and excitement when she met up with Barbara, Jenna now found herself progressively getting more and more nervous as Barbara’s dad drove them to your apartment building.

“You're lucky my dad is right here, or I'd be teasing the hell out of you,” Barbara turned to look at her and Jenna believed the girl wholeheartedly. If there was one thing she learned in these past two months it was that this girl had no mercy, and would only stop teasing if she really couldn't do it. For example, like right now, when her dad was in the car with them, and Jenna supposed that would be enough to tell her what kind of teasing Barbara had in mind. Probably something along the line of: ‘This is the most elaborate help me get laid plan ever’ because that was actually something Barbara said when Jenna explained what she had in mind. It wasn't even all that elaborate at all. Jenna got from New Zealand to Denver on a plane, Barbara and her dad picked her up, and the reason for that was simple. Jenna had her suitcases, and her bag, and she had, as she ever so often mentioned, noodle arms which could not handle carrying all of this stuff all at once up the stairs to your apartment.

“I'm really thankful you came to pick me up,” Jenna said, and she honestly was thankful for that because it would have been a lot more complicated if she had to do all of this by herself. She might have even gotten so desperate as to call you to help her with her suitcases, and that would just ruined everything in her mind.

“As long as you get the girl, it's all good,” Barbara clearly couldn't stop teasing entirely, and had to leave that quip in.

Barbara's dad parked close enough to the building and the three of them climbed up to your apartment. They left Jenna’s suitcases in front of your doors and Barbara turned to her. “You know, I could give you the keys so you can walk right in and surprise her like that,” Barbara suggested one last time, but Jenna didn't want that. She wanted to knock on your door and see you as you opened the doors for her. You had no idea she was coming today, she told you she would come tomorrow, and Barbara made sure that you would be home. That was the elaborate part of the plan, because she had to make excuses for you to not go anywhere while not coming by herself, and actually get you to listen to her.

“I'm good,” she took a deep breath. “Thanks again, I’ll take it from here,” Jenna turned to your doors and cleared her throat, and Barbara just patted her on the back.

“Twelve hours, remember what I told you,” Jenna blushed a dark shade of red at that, her imagination may have been going wild since the two of you reconciled over the phone. And sure it wasn't the complete reconciliation, there were some things that still needed to be talked about and she couldn't be sure that things would progress that fast, but she's definitely been thinking about it.

And so, with Barbara and her dad waving at her as they left, she was left alone in the hall, in front of your doors, trying to keep the blush off her face as she raised her hand and knocked.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @freakshow2501 @osnapitzmel1 @belatrixdragon @ijustlovemaths

@niqmandu @justspance @mirage018 @godamnityess

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next part

A/N: And we're done with the angst, they do need to talk face to face, but the worst is absolutely behind us! Thanks to everyone who pushed through and stuck around!

#jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader #jenna ortega x female reader

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homelanderbutbig · 4 months ago

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Your Very Own Mini Homie (G/T Homelander x Reader)

891 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

Homelander gets jealous when he is "replaced". Inspired by a conversation with @slasher-smasher.

Vought is notorious for branding The Seven on anything and everything to make a profit off their supes. You're surprised they never did this sooner, announcing a line of squishy stress toys based on the superhero team. And of course Homelander's toy is the biggest of them all, you know he couldn't stand any facsimile of himself being anything less.

When the stress toys were released for sale to the public, you thought it would be funny to buy one as a joke. It's as goofy looking as the Jr. Kuddle Buddiez plush version of him, but this time it's an air-filled plastic toy and its eyes bulge out when squeezed. Sitting pretty on your desk and watching you work, you now have your very own mini Homie.

However, the real Homelander didn't find it so humourous.

"Why would you even buy one of these dumb things? It looks nothing like me," he grumbles, tapping his fingers on his belt as he stares down at you and your new desk buddy.

"I think it's cute," you respond, giggling while you lean forward to give the toy a kiss on its head.

He exhales in an exasperated huff and shakes his head at your theatrics. The rolling of his eyes made you believe he wasn't really bothered by your little gag toy. You do silly things all the time that annoy him to his very core, but he always gets over it.

And yet, you really should know him better by now.

Throughout the rest of the day you don't see him very much. You're cooped up in your office with mounds of paperwork to complete, grateful that your toy is right there beside you to help relieve your stress. Squeezing your little Homie in your hands and chuckling to yourself as you admire your strange miniature 'boyfriend' with its protruding eyes.

This whole time you've been unaware that Homelander has been checking in on you. Standing outside your office, using his X-ray vision to watch you playing with your toy. You've been busy working on a project on your laptop, one hand on the mouse and the other squeezing your mini Homie.

You're replacing him.

Why wouldn't you ask him to do that for you, to help you destress? He would do anything for you, and instead you've given his job to some shoddy placeholder. He can't help but to keep returning every hour to watch you, his infantile jealousy plaguing his mind with images of you and that toy the second he leaves the Tower. Each time he comes back he holds onto the hope that you'd have come to your senses and have thrown that thing away, understanding your transgressions against him. But the more he observes you continuing to smother that worthless substitute with your undivided attention, the more his blood boils.

He just can't take this sickening display anymore.

Suddenly, your door bursts open as your eight foot tall boyfriend storms straight towards you, his footsteps so heavy your laptop monitor is visibly shaking. You don't even have a second to react as Homelander yanks the stress toy from your hand, using his laser vision to sear the plastic into nothing more than a pile of ash.

"What a piece of junk. Doesn't look like your little toy can withstand a real stress test," he scoffs amusedly at how simple it was to destroy this piece of garbage with a quick demonstration of his powers. He wipes his hands together to remove the residue of the toy, grinning smugly you glare up at him.

"Here's a better stress toy. Can't break me babe," he smirks, giving you a cheeky wink as he lowers his massive hand down to you, flexing his fingers.

After a few seconds of staring blankly at his hand you sigh to yourself, finally realizing what even just transpired. Sometimes you forget how much of a child he can be; his feelings were hurt because you got a toy that looked like him. He got mad because you were touching it instead of him, loving it even. He must have been fuming alone for a while, overthinking the importance of this mere toy.

You suppose you should just resign yourself to Homelander's idiotic plan to win you back… or whatever he thought was happening. This is too stupid to argue about right now.

You reach up to his offered hand and grab hold of his index and middle finger, those two fingers fitting snugly into your palm. You admit at least the leather of his glove is a pleasing texture, soft and stretchy like your toy, and it squeaks when you clench your fingers hard together.

Gazing up at Homelander, you can see how pleased he is with himself. Chest puffed out, eyes sparkling bright, canines poking out of his smile, he looks like he's just high on life getting to be the only man on earth who can solve your problems. He reminds you of a dog whose only wish is to be called good boy for helping, even though he didn't actually do anything. He created the problem that he felt he needed to fix.

For now you can let him have his moment… but you're going to give him hell later when the two of you are back in the penthouse.

#the boys #the boys tv #homelander #homelander x reader #g/t #size difference #my writing #homelander is like that bird meme: I am feel uncomfortable when we are not about me???

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osleeplessflowero · 8 months ago

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//I've had this on Ao3 since last year, I forgot to post it here so..why not do it now? :)

Bittersweet

A Short Flirty Vampire!Nightmare x Vampire Hunter!Reader Oneshot

Spice warning, Licking/Biting

Thunder roars in the moonlit sky. You travel under the cover of night, following a path. You keep your hand over a blade at your side, the cloak you're wearing flowing behind you as you run.

"You are the only person we can count on to defeat this monster. He's killed off many of our own long enough. Dispose of it at once, we beg of you!"

You stare up at the now illuminated mansion, running closer to it and halting once you reach the front doors. Your hand hovers over the knob. ..There's no time to dwell on it, just get it done..

You open the door abruptly, walking forward. Lightning strikes in the distance behind you as you point your now unsheathed sword forwards.

Before you sits a large monster on his throne, tentacles twisting around and moving ever so slightly. His single eyelight falls on you, glowing throughout the dark room as it rests on you. His attire is fancy, you've seen quite a few eye-catching looks from him before. NOT THAT THEY CAUGHT YOURS-- That's ABSURD--

"Welcome back, darling. I was wondering when you'd return to me." A grin stretches across his face.

"I'm here to slay you, Nightmare. Once and for all. Your soul will look gorgeous on my shelf.."

"You already have my soul..my heart as well. There is no need for all of this." He rests his cheek on the palm of his left hand.

You feel your cheeks heat up a bit. No, NONONO. You are here to KILL him, don't fall for him- NO.

Taking a deep breath, you charge at him. "There's no time for idle chitchat-"

"A shame..I could talk with you for hours, love."

You jump up, slashing your sword downwards before a tentacle grabs you, holding you in place before throwing you backwards, onto the floor.

"Winning the approval of some mindless villagers is quite meaningless, you know. Wouldn't you rather go towards the arms of someone who actually wants you there?"

"I'm not doing this for approval-" You jump towards him again, swinging your sword before he knocks you back once more.

He stands up, tentacles reaching out in different directions. He looks..amused by your attempts to attack him. You want to wipe that shit eating grin off of his face.

"Don't pretend like you actually want to kill me."

"I do, and I WILL-"

You're cut off by a tentacle wrapping itself around you, another trapping your arms and dragging you towards him so you can see him face-to-face.

He reaches out his hand, placing it against your cheek. You feel your face heat up even more, trying to turn away before he caresses your chin, holding it in place with his thumb and index finger.

"Why do you resist your true desires? For your reputation? For the profits of the hunt? I could give you so much more. You don't need this life..wouldn't you rather stay with me?"

"Stop it. Your devilish charms won't work on me."

He chuckles, staring into your eyes. "I've done nothing but talk, my dear. Perhaps it's simply you that finds me charming."

"You'd certainly wish that were the case, wouldn't you?" You struggle to get out of the tentacle's grasp.

"I know it's the case."

"Just how would you know that?"

"For one, I can see it on your face. And second..it's why you've hesitated to kill me each time we've fought..you can't bear the thought of killing me. So you hesitate and hesitate until someone asks you to do it..and even then.." He lifts one of your trembling hands with his own. "You still don't want to do it."

"I.." You avert your eyes from him.

He's right..and god, do you hate it.

The fights..the banter..the tension..all of it drew you more and more in.

Why? Why did it have to be a vampire, the very species you're trying to hunt down and exterminate for good? Why must fate be this cruel?

"Well? What now, Vampire Hunter?"

You break free from the tentacle's grip, raising your sword once more.

He stands completely still, holding out his arms.

"Go on, then. Make your move. I'm even making it easy for you.."

You shudder, staring at the end of your blade, which is only inches from his chest. One strike to the soul and it'd be over.

..Why aren't you moving? Why are you just standing there?

The sword shakes along with you.

"Even if I were to give up..all you'd do is kill me and take my blood. I know your type." You glare into his piercing gaze.

"I wouldn't dream of killing you, darling. You're much too precious to me.." His eyelight narrows a bit, a light green flush manifesting over his cheekbones.

You gulp, moving a foot back. Keep your stance wide..body lowered..just hit him. Kill him and get this over with.

"Just as I thought. You can't do it."

"I- I'm getting to it-"

"You won't kill me, because you love me. You love me so much you can't stand it."

You glare down at the floor.

The sound of a sword making contact with something is heard.

Nightmare's eyelight shrinks as your sword falls from your hands. You collapse, placing your hands over your eyes.

He lowers his arms, walking over to you and knocking the blade out of the way with one of his tentacles, kneeling in front of you.

"There's no need to hide how you truly feel. I understand it more than anyone in this universe could."

"It's not fair. Why does it have to be you?" You stare at him.

"Fate works in mysterious ways, my dear. It simply brought our souls together..a collective feeling. Fate brought us together, and fate will not tear us apart..I'll make sure of that."

"What am I supposed to do? Go back there and tell them I didn't kill you? They'll burn me at the stake or something-"

"There's no need to go back."

"I live there, smart guy."

"Yes..but you don't have to any longer. You could always..stay with me."

You put your hand over your mouth.

"No, I couldn't possibly-"

"I insist. This way we wouldn't have to be separated again..it works out for both of us, doesn't it?"

You frown, looking at your sword. "But my work..my efforts...everything would be left behind."

"You could always..find something new for yourself."

You turn back to him, seeing a small smile on his face. ..Maybe he's right. This work wasn't exactly making you all that happy, anyway..

"We can arrange something..make it look like we killed each other in a long battle. That way you will still have your..dignity, I suppose, and we both get to leave together."

"How do I know I could trust you? Vampires are known for persuasiveness."

"If I am to betray your trust, I give you full permission to put a blessed blade through my soul. Do we have an agreement?"

"..Very well.."

He grins, lifting your head with his hand. "Now then..may I claim you as my own?"

Your face flushes, warming up. Wow, if you told your past self this would happen you'd have never believed it.

"Speak, darling."

"..Yes."

He leans down, hovering over your neck, exposing it. You shiver as you feel his hot breath against your skin. He moves his long tongue over it slowly, savoring your taste. You bite your lip, feeling yourself get a little excited.

He pauses for a brief moment, admiring your expression before sinking his teeth into you, holding you still with his hands.

You wince, leaning back a bit before he grabs you to make sure you don't fall.

You feel yourself begin to grow weak, and only then does he stop, wiping away your precious blood from his mouth.

"Ah..Bittersweet..just how I like it."

Staring longingly into his eyelight, you lean your head against his chest as he lifts you in a bridal carry, beginning to use his magic to fix up the room.

"A shame..I quite liked this vacation home. Oh well..there's always others."

You close your eyes, needing rest from today's events.

#sleeplessflower's oneshots #nightmare x reader #nightmare sans x reader #vampire nightmare sans #nightmare dreamtale x reader #utmv x reader #undertale x reader #undertale au x reader #nightmare dreamtale #nightmare sans

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naomi-nana · 1 month ago

Text

✎ᝰ. business is (not) booming . have the real me! series

in which a certain someone from ignihyde made a game called twisted wonderland with them in it, and you ended up ignoring the real them over their game self. how would they react?

featuring : azul ashengrotto, (cameo appearance: jade, floyd, jamil, kalim)

cw : gn!reader, certified scammer azul(jk), fluff fluff fluff, nothing else aside from grammar errors cuz english aint my first language🙏

a/n : this is some type of series!! i will write for other characters in this same prompt too:3 so i hope you all will like it!

being in the same club as idia, it's no wonder that azul is one of the many people who is promoting and playing the game. he was the first one that introduced it to you, too. though he kinda regrets that decision now. it's only been three days, and you already got to book two of the game.

and you haven't paid attention to him at all.

well, no worries. he's happy that you're playing a game that he made, even though idia did most of the job and he only managed the microtransaction. but he still contributed to it, right?. "oh? it seems like you're still playing that game i introduced you to. but of course, the game is of such good quality. i was dejected when idia refused the idea of monetization, though ..."

"im glad he does! otherwise, i wouldn't be able to play this, y'know." you frowned, clicking away at the rhythm game. he chuckled before he sat beside you on the couch. "hmm, you're already nearing leona's overblot fight. you're very quick when you focus on something." he compliments you, leaning over your shoulder to see your screen.

"ah, hey! you're covering the screen! i can't see azul's animation like this!" you stood up from the couch with a huff while walking over to the stair so you can play peacefully somewhere else. azul looked at you with widened eyes, wondering why you were so upset for not being able to see his animation when you can literally see the real thing.

he's more annoyed that his minions are snickering behind him, though.

for the next few days, azul can't help but secretly hover over your shoulder to see what you're doing. and every time, it's always his game self on the screen.

he's flustered that you like him so much to the point you put him on your home screen in the game, but still! why not put him as the home screen on your phone?! ... oh, you already did.

anyways, expect to see the octatrio hang around you even more often than usual. even grim is too scared to eat on the same table as you. they usually ask you about the progress of the game. but it seems to you that only azul ever asks specific questions while jade and floyd are grinning ear to ear.

those specific questions are, "what do you do when you run out of azul cards to play with, i wonder?"

even after doing all that hovering and questioning, you still don't stop playing the game and squealing at his game self. azul has considered making a deal(threatening and persuading) idia to immediately take down the game, but then it'd mean he loses the extra profit from it. sigh ...

so he decided to ask for advice from the very high guarded but intelligent jamil. when he first approached him and kalim, jamil was immediately on guard mode and already thinking of ways to refuse his scam and escape. but kalim held him back.

"jamil, hypothetically speaking, what would you do if kalim ever asked your virtual self for help instead of the real you? would you be upset and kill the virtual robot, or would you talk it out with kalim? hypothetically, of course."

he, unfortunately and obviously, did not get any answer from jamil. but kalim did answer for him, though. "if it were me, i'd talk it out with myself! it's not good to hide your feelings, you know?"

huh. it is a very great advice. so, azul finally made up his mind and went back to octavinelle to write a whole script of what he is going to say the next time he meets you. yet, when he arrives, you were already there waiting for him.

you explained that the twins had told you about it all earlier and that they were also urging you to go and talk to him about it.

jade said, "it is amusing to see him spiral into a fit of despair the moment you abandoned him for him in the game. but it is also starting to feel creepy."

floyd said, "im bored walkin' around and spying on ya! i wanna do my own thing! do somethin' about it!"

azul feels like he wants to go ahead and crawl into his octopus pot right now. but no matter, at the very least, he gets to talk to you and spend time with you. his game self can go ahead and rot in hell.

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

#nao.writes #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #twst azul #twst azul ashengrotto #azul #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #azul fanfic #azul fic #twst fluff #twst drabble #yayayyayaya

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hiramaris · 1 year ago

Text

Kiss it Off Me

CHAPTER 5

Chapter Summary:

The farmer have the knack to be in the right place at the right time. And apparently, Haley just happens to be there— All the time.

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Disclaimer: I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: alcohol

Gif by LoucoMarx's Artwork

If anyone told Haley she'd grown fond of you at the beginning of the year, she'd probably laugh at their faces.

It's weird.

How you become a constant presence in her life right now that it would be weird not to see you even once a day.

It had been apparently a routine for you, and unfortunately (fortunate) for her, that you'd drop by the 2 Willow Lane every morning as long as it's beyond 8am to have breakfast with them.

Emily is more than willing to accommodate you, saying along the lines "Haley's a little calmer when you're around, Y/n/n."

Ridiculous.

Of course Haley had to be on her best behavior. You didn't need to see her and Emily squabble for the second time around. That would be embarrassing.

Well... that's what she likes to think. What she allows herself to think.

Because why else would you even stick around with someone as mean as her and give her all these gifts?

And why the hell is Haley even putting up with this?

She'd like to think it's because you want to get something from her. Let's say an ulterior motive.

But deep down she knows it's simply because you're just nice.

At first, you looked like you're trying a little too hard to be liked by everyone else. Why else would you give almost everyone gifts instead of actually selling them and make profit? It just doesn't make sense.

But the moment Haley experienced your kindness firsthand, she knew to herself that there's really no other ulterior motive behind all the easy smiles and gifts you were giving Haley.

So, even though she tried not to like it, she found herself actively looking for your presence.

Luckily for her, it just so happens the farmer also have the knack to be in the right place at the right time.

Surprisingly this time, Haley doesn't seem to mind.

Spring 17

This damn thing.

Haley let out an exasperated sigh as she stared at the stubborn jar in front of her, glaring it with such hatred she hoped it might open itself from the pressure. Her hands were already starting to hurt from trying to twist the lid open.

Can't she have a break? She just wants to cook breakfast today since Emily's out and all, and Haley can finally show you some of her cooking skills at home.

Yeah, sure she can be absolutely lazy with household chores but cooking is actually something she loved to do.

"Come on, just open already!" she exclaimed through gritted teeth.

Haley tried to use all her strength to open the jar, letting out a loud grunt as she felt her palms tingle with pain. But no matter how hard she tried, the stupid lid just wouldn't budge.

She was so busy trying to open the damn thing that she didn't noticed your presence behind her with an amused grin plastered all over your face, clearly finding humor at her antics.

"You need some help?" you voiced out behind her.

"Ugh," a flash of surprise flickered on her eyes when she turned around and locked her eyes with you before her face morphed into a mock scowl. "How does it feel seeing me in pain?"

You chuckled at her exaggeration. "Aw, does the baby needs help?"

"Hmp." She squinted her eyes at that. "I was about to cook breakfast for us but now I don't feel like doing it."

She crossed her arms in mock anger for good measure.

How dare she calls her baby? And for the wrong reasons, too!

The nerve!

"Alright, alright, miss sassy pants. Come here," Haley's frustration quickly turned into surprise as she felt you tugged her by the loop of her belt, pulling her close to your body. The heat that radiates from your skin ignites a fire in Haley's belly.

You reached over and snatched the jar out of Haley's grip, flicking it open with a simple twist of your wrist. You then swiftly returned it to Haley's hand and gave her a look that could only be described as smug.

"Piece of cake," you bragged with a grin.

Haley cleared her throat, masking her embarrassment as she playfully shoved you away. "Hmp. You're stronger than you look."

You narrowed your eyes at her, and Haley caught a mischievous glint in your gaze.

"What do you mean, 'stronger than I look'?" you retorted, a hint of challenge dripping in your voice. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, you know?"

"Oh, really now?"

As if to prove your point, you rolled up your sleeves up to your shoulders, flexing your muscles just long enough for Haley to appreciate how farm works definitely did wonders to your physiques, not that you weren't already toned before, but you're definitely becoming a little buffer.

Those farmer clothes just hid them all this time.

Haley's mouth went dry. "Y-yeah, yeah, show off."

It's amazing how Haley still manage to act like this when a simple act of flexing had her gotten her hot and bothered.

She's never been one to swoon over muscles before (Alex's muscle only made her gag most of the time), but there's something about the way you look right now that has her feeling all kinds of things.

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts of any impure ideas.

She didn't want to give you the satisfaction of stroking your already growing ego. Haley' sure that you are well aware of your effect on her, and if she let it show, you would only be so smug about it.

Sometimes, Haley regrets letting you be friends with Alex. Clearly, he's rubbing off you already.

"I wonder how many other ladies have been lucky enough to see that impressive display."

"How many are you?" you readily quipped.

Haley suddenly choked on her own spit as heat rose to her cheeks at your sudden boldness. (What the hell? What the what?)

"I'm gonna hit you," Haley threatened half-heartedly as she tried to regain her composure (and dignity.)

She has to make this stop or else everything will be too much for her. Which was a frequent occurrence nowadays when you're near her.

"Okay, okay!" you barked out a laugh, seemingly oblivious to your effect on Haley, much to her relief. "I'll help you cook, alright?"

"Fine. But you're going to boil the pasta. You suck at making the sauce."

"Yeah, yeah, M'lady. Let's do it your way."

Yeah, you definitely had the knack to be in the right place at the right time.

And probably say the right things at the least opportune time.

Does Haley mind?

Definitely not.

Spring 20

The Flower Festival is in four days, and Haley will be damned if she'd be anything but flawless.

Currently lounging on her couch, Haley was draped in a flimsy white towel, the only piece of cloth covering her body besides the face mask she had just applied, and a soft towel wrapped around her hair to soak up some excess water.

She had already finished exfoliating her body, scrubbing away all the stresses and strains of the past few days. Of course, she can't forget moisturizing, too. Despite her naturally flawless skin, it took loads of branded lotions, scrubs and moisturizers (so worth the money) to keep it this perfect.

In short, it's her pampering day.

Haley was a true believer in the power of self-care, and she spared no expense in ensuring that every inch of her body was pampered to perfection.

And she can't afford to be stressed today.

Surprisingly, the day went by without a hitch.

Emily's usual nagging was nothing more than a minor annoyance that she brushed off without a second thought. And Alex, bless his heart, had the good sense to steer clear the moment he laid eyes on her with her bag of beauty essentials in tow.

He's also been kind enough to pass the message to you. Saying he'll just ask you to play ball with him or whatever to keep you busy earlier that morning.

Nothing, she repeats, nothing could ruin this nigh—

Her phone ringing was absolutely the least she expected to hear.

She was tempted to not answer, assuming it will be Emily on the other line. She doesn't call often during her shift, but if she does, she would occasionally ask Haley to bring either her apron or her shoes.

So, Haley's a little bit apprehensive about answering.

There's no way she's gonna be waltzing around outside just to give Emily her damn apron when she just finished her self-care!

Curiosity got the best of her though. With a deep breath, she swiped the answer button, hesitantly bringing the device to her ear.

"What?" she snapped, a little irritated at the interruption.

"Thank Yoba you answered. I was beginning to think you wouldn't." Emily babbled on the other line.

"Just spit it out, Em."

"Um," Haley can hear her hesitation. "Y/n/n's a little out of it and I kind of need help to get her home."

Haley sat a little bit straight at the mention of your name. "What do you mean she's out of it?"

"She's drunk."

For the love of Yoba—

What the hell are you thinking getting your ass drunk like that?

"Hay, are you still there?"

Haley has to literally calm herself down before speaking again. "I'm sorry but I can't. I just finished applying my face mask!"

"I see, I just thought since you're close with her and all..." Emily sounded a bit disappointed but didn't pushed it further. "I may just have to ask Penny to get her hom—"

"Be there in 5," was all Haley said before going to her room to get dressed.

She's going to kill you.

****

In no time at all, Haley arrived at the Saloon in her pajamas, hair damped and bare faced and everything.

She saw Emily waiting outside, a visibly worried expression etched on her face. "Where is she?" Haley asked, her tone urgent.

Emily motioned towards the Saloon's door. "She's inside."

Normally, Haley wouldn't be caught alive inside her sister's workplace but that's the least of her concerns right now. "What the hell happened?"

"Since it was Shane's birthday and all. Y/n/n kind of bet with him who could drink the most beer without getting drunk. Safe to say no one won, huh?" Emily had the audacity to sound so sheepish.

Haley nodded absentmindedly and took a deep breath before pushing open the door.

Sure enough, you were there, slumped over the bar with a couple of empty bottle of beer beside her. Shane's there too, but he's unconscious on the floor with Marnie trying her absolute best to wake her nephew up.

Haley wanted to be mad at you. You literally made Haley walked across town with nothing but her pajamas! She also never go out without makeup and especially when she has just finished her skin care!

But what the hell.

Her heart could only flutter at the sight. How can someone be an idiot and cute at the same time?

She strode over to you and placed a hand on your back, careful not to startle you. "Y/n, come on. Let's get you home," she chided softly.

You groaned softly, lifting your head slightly at the sound of her voice, your eyes bloodshot and unfocused. "Hay..? Is that you..?"

"Yeah, it's me," Haley answered, helping you to your feet. She took your arm and wrapped them around her shoulder, while her other arm secured its place on your waist to keep youfrom falling. "Come on, let's go."

Having the inability to stand by yourself, Haley found you leaning almost half of your weight on her.

Yoba, you're quite heavy.

"You smell geurd..." you slurred more.

Haley tried to fight herself from flushing at the comment. It did not help that your face is practically buried at the side of her neck.

"I know," Haley tried to retort. "And you smell like beer." She wrinkled her nose in mock disgust.

On the contrary, you actually smelled like freshly picked lemons and mint apart from the subtle scent of beer. It seemed that you prepared for this occasion and showered accordingly.

Haley briefly nods in approval. You didn't smell as bad as she expected, you weren't even sweaty, too compared to Shane here.

Haley stole a quick glance at him, noting his unruly stubble, tattered hoodie, and unkempt hair.

It was evident he hadn't exactly prioritized cleanliness lately. Haley couldn't help but be grateful that you were the complete opposite. But she decided not to dwell on it. After all, it was Shane's birthday, and he was entitled to be himself, even if it meant being his usual slightly musty, emo self.

"Even in my prime years I wasn't able to drink that much beer!" Pam cackled at the background, catching Haley's attention. She's clearly only tipsy despite the massive number of empty bottles in front of her. "Kids these days, really." She shook her head before turning to Emily. "Kid, can you give me some more mead?"

"Sure, Pam." Emily looks at Haley apologetically. "Sis, can you—"

"I got it. It's okay."

Leah, who had been eyeing them from the table decided to make her way towards them. "Do you need help?" before adding jokingly, "I didn't know Y/n/n was a drinker."

"Well, at least she's a lot calmer than Pam." Gus chimes in. "And a whole lot lesser violent than Shane here." He added as he eyed Shane on the floor with a couple of empty bottles beside him. Marnie is still trying to wake him up.

Haley raised an immaculate brow.

If Leah wanted to help maybe it would have been useful a couple of hours ago if she stopped this dungus from doing a stupid bet. Haley didn't dare say that though, and bit her tongue to stop saying something foul, instead, she opted with a strained, "thanks, but I got this."

"You sur—"

The door of the Saloon swung open once again, and another redhead came straight to them. "What happened?" Penny asked in urgent. She's clad in her pajamas as well and her usually immaculate hair was down, which tells she's also ready for bed. "Mom called that Y/n/n was dru—"

"Kiddo, you're here!" Pam cheered loudly, Gus can only grimace at her antics. "I was just saying here that Y/n definitely won the bet!"

"Mom..." Penny sighed. "You should have stopped her. Y/n has work tomorrow."

"Hmp. It wouldn't hurt to have fun. Let the kid get loose a little. She's already been working hard."

Knowing it's no use to argue with her drunk mom. Penny turned to Haley, giving her a polite smile. "Do you need help taking her home?"

"Yeah!" Leah agreed beside her. "My cabin's near her farm, it would be no problem at all."

Haley tries to mask the sudden annoyance she feels at the women in front of her, and as well as the struggle she's feeling under the weight of the farmer. But she stood her ground stubbornly. She fakes a smile. "I got this."

"Are you s—"

"I got this." She repeated, this time firmly.

****

She definitely did not got this.

You were thoughtful enough to stay still while Haley guided you out of the Saloon. But once they took a turn near 2 Willow Lane, the farmer started wriggling against her grasp.

"W-where... we going..?" you asked, slurring.

"I'm taking you home," Haley replied in between grunts.

What the hell is she even thinking?

She should have accepted Penny's help— hell, even Leah's help would be also appreciated but Haley just didn't like the idea of having those two around you.

Yeah, she knew you're friends with these two girls but Emily called her first, right? Never mind that she declined it first but Haley didn't want to be a bad friend letting you slumped all night long over that greasy bar.

"Yoba, just how many beers did you drink? Surely, you're not that much of a lightweight."

You narrowed your eyes at her, holding up three fingers, "I had 9. Shane I think..." you held out a finger to her chin, "had 7."

Haley couldn't help but snort in amusement. "I'm pretty sure I'm not that dumb to count 3 on your fingers."

"It's 3 times 3."

"Yeah, sure."

"Yeah! And I'm completely sober," you declared, as if your words alone were enough proof. But your actions told a different story, as you stumbled once again, prompting Haley to exclaim, "stay still, you dungus!" before you manage to free yourself away from Haley's arms. "See?"

"Clearly." Haley answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she approached you. You were swaying dangerously and on the verge of collapsing over Marnie's fence.

"Oops—" You flashed a stupid grin as Haley caught you just in time, preventing you from face-planting into one of the feces of Marnie's cows. "Thanks, babe."

Haley almost dropped you at the unexpected endearment.

Her cheeks flushed deeply, and she internally debated whether to abandon you here or let her own remaining shreds of dignity vanish into the night.

She coughed awkwardly, trying to regain her composure. "Wow, you sure are flirty tonight. You sure you're sober?"

"I don't know," You answered truthfully, sounding strangely sober. You came to a halt, causing Haley to stop as well. "The only time I allow myself to be this close to you without my heart pounding in my chest is in the reality I've created in my dreams. So, tell me, Haley..."

Under the moonlight, your eyes held an intensity and softness that seemed almost impossible.

"Am I sober, or is this just a dream?"

****

Notes:

I absolutely adore all those who left some comments from the past chapters. Thank you so much!

Alsooooo, I know it's a bit overdue buuuut

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 1K LIKES AND 100 FOLLOWERS! I didn't really expect this account to blow up like this but I really, really appreciate you guys and your patience for me.

I am so sorry for the delays as well. I just have a lot of things happening at the same time, you know, with uni and everything.

And I feel like I owe you guys a chapter. So here ya go!

#stardew valley #stardew haley #stardew farmer #stardew fanfic #haley x reader #haley x farmer

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kiefbowl · 5 months ago

Note

What about amateur porn or drawn erotica?

"amateur porn" is mostly a marketing term. it's meant to convey an idea that the porn is "homemade." but what stops people from just producing and marketing content that looks like that? especially since the idea has been pushed successfully that this is "more ethical porn." That is capitalism 101 - find a market you aren't capturing, make them a product they'll buy.

Even in the event it's not actually a production by a studio, you cannot verify that the porn you're watching is not a woman in an abusive relationship with a pimp. Boyfriends become pimps all the time. I think people have this idea that pimps are caricatures that pop out of the ground organically and fully formed, like some sort of mythological "bad guy." They don't stop to think that any opportunistic man (or woman) can become a pimp easily by just having access to a vulnerable woman. If someone enjoys porn, I think it's easy and worthwhile for them to have a disconnect between what "real abusers" do and what happens in a mythical porn setting that's more convenient to imagine. Yet do you need to look far to find examples of couples either A) joking how much money they could make if the wife would get on OF B) fighting because the husband wants the wife to get on OF to increase their revenue and she doesn't or C) just flat out admitting the wife is on OF and how much money it brings to the table? Besides the fact that in any one of these situations, this could be a covert marketing tactic by OF working with a couple, but even if it's not...why believe in scenario C that the husband is just some good guy and this is just some normal situation they fell into? The difference between scenario C and a pimp is what? They're being public about it by framing it a certain way? Well if that makes the public normalize it, why wouldn't "real" pimps just take that lead and do the same? My point is that there is no distinction: a man (whether it's a stranger, a friend, a dad, a husband, a boyfriend) exerting control over a woman by making her perform sexual acts for his own profit is a pimp, and I don't see why we should trust the way he frames it publicly, even if he says "I'm just a progressive husband who isn't jealous and loves that my wife shakes ass online for our family" or whatever gets people to go "cool! I will not questions this."

I'm sure you're asking in good faith anon, so this isn't directed specifically at you, but often when porn watchers are engaging in debate about porn, they'll start bringing up things like 'drawn erotica' as if it's some sort of gotcha. To me, it's so revealing how little they care about the arguments presented about the harms of the porn industry because yes, obviously drawn erotica is different than filming real humans having sex. It also reveals some sort of assumed bias that the person presenting objections to porn without appealing to religious morality or puritanical ideas about sex are somehow being deceitful. As if once "victimless porn" is brought up, they'll be unable to lie and their true nature will be revealed because they'll have some thinly veiled excuses about how drawn porn is obviously just as bad, because it's so sexy!

Drawings of people having sex or being naked and sexual are not above criticism in how they replicate harmful ideas about sex, sexuality, and gender - but they also aren't literal forms of violence against real people. So, it's irrelevant to the discussion of vulnerable people being pushed into porn to perform sexual acts against their will to a point of ruination. If someone feels comfortable continuing to watch and masturbate to porn after this has been explained to them, I don't see why any thoughts I have on erotica written or drawn or otherwise really matters. They can't be convinced through that avenue, clearly. They're probably willing to take whatever thread they can pull on to justify their consumption and to assuage their conscience over watching porn. That to me signifies a porn addiction, because even a casual viewer of porn who's never come across any anti-porn arguments knows they can live without porn, knows they don't need to defend it tooth and nail, and will not play stupid about comparisons to real people having sex on film/enacting violence on each other to erotic drawings.

At the end of the day, re: erotica, I would need to take each thing of media in it's own right and judge it for itself (like all film, books, and art). If it replicates pornographic images (i.e. the film language of porn that I take issue with vis-a-vis misogyny and violence against women), then yeah I'm going to have a problem with it. Not because it's sexual, but because it's content is disagreeable to me in that it's misogynistic. The scale for that is going to be sliding - the difference between a causal representation of unexamined gender dynamics and extremely violent CSAM is huge. I don't take issues with people finding, say, mild 18th century drawings titillating as much as I take issues with people acting entitled to violent images as if their masturbation depends on it and they're entitled to masturbate to whatever they want. Why? I masturbate to my imagination all the time. It's literally the easiest and most natural thing to do. If someone can't, it's probably because they're addicted to porn. If desperate poor women being pushed into drugs to continue making porn that becomes increasingly violent doesn't stop someone from watching porn, then maybe I should ask them to get angry at porn for altering their brain so badly. That's how desperate people sound when they have to scrape the bottom of the barrel in the face of facts about violence, poverty, suicide, and abuse.

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patrice-bergerons · 2 years ago

Text

Quick FAQ on Tumblr, "Value", and the Proposed Crab Day

Motivation: I see a lot of misinformation circulating on the dash re the proposed crab day and I wanted to offer a simplified and judgement free perspective using core principles of finance.

Q: We keep being told that tumblr's been making nothing but a loss for years, and yet, if it is so unprofitable, then why is no one is shutting the website down? Is it really in need of our money if it's already owned by a multi-billion dollar corporation?

This is in fact not as much of a paradox as it appears to be because "value" in corporate finance terms is a function of present and expected future profits (adjusting for the fact that profits you expect to be earn in the near future are worth a lot more than equivalent profits expected to be earned much later in time).

This means that you can have a company or a product that is currently making a loss (i.e. costing a lot more to run than the income it generates) and it might still be worth some (or a lot of) money as long as you expect it to generate enough profits going forward. Uber for example has been making a loss for years and is still valued at billions of dollars because people think it will eventually generate a lot of profit.

Q: What does all of that mean for tumblr, specifically?

Given how unprofitable tumblr has been historically it's actually a pretty good sign that management has a plan to try and make it profitable because it means they haven't thrown in the towel yet!

But if they fail or if they decide that no matter what they do tumblr will remain unprofitable, then they wouldn't have much business incentive to keep running it. This is why participating in crab day or spending some money on tumblr in general is a good idea, if you can afford it and if tumblr is a service you would like to keep enjoying into the future. And if the answer is no to either of those questions, that's ok too--don't let anyone guilt you on this.

Even more questions-and-answers under the cut! My inbox is also open for any (good faith) questions you might have.

Q: But we all use tumblr religiously--isn't that enough?

Not quite. Tumblr's current state means that the existing userbase is not enough to make the site profitable. For that to change, either the existing userbase needs to become more profitable, or tumblr needs to get a lot more new users--or have a combination of both.

Q: Can crab day really solve all this?

Once again, not quite. A one time cash-injection is not equal to sustainable income, which is what tumblr ultimately needs. This means tumblr will still need to court potential new users and that entails some change to the design and/or the perception of the site. (I love tumblr but guys, if we are real for a second, last time I told my coworkers that, they asked me if I also had a myspace account.)

Q: So why participate then?

Because it will still help. While some change is inevitable and necessary, if we the existing users put our money where our mouth is, it would send a strong signal to management that we value the service they offer and that they should take our preferences into account in designing the site's future also. Also some cash, even if it is a one time deal,

Q: I heard people who came up with the idea are transphobic Christian fundies--do you really want to associate with people like that?

I don't. But who the blogs behind this idea, as people, are has no bearing on the merits of the idea itself.

#crab day #save this hellsite #im gonna say something i never explicitly have #and ask that you rb this if you agree with it #finance is confusing! and the more we get the message across #the better i think #for keeping tumblr around for a long time

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victoriadallonfan · 10 months ago

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Let's Talk About the Alien vs Predator Films

Talk about wasted potential, am I right?

I'm struggling to format this in an interesting way, since so much has been covered over the past 20 years since the first film was released. You can read my thoughts on Aliens Franchise and the Predator Franchise as well.

Note that it doesn't include Alien: Romulus, but suffice to say it was a good movie!

I think the best place to start is with covering the themes of Alien and Predator, and the history before these films were created (and the failure of Fox).

My fellow AvP enjoyer @agendergorgon has already posted some thoughts on the topic, giving me a lot to think about, so check out their blog too!

For the purposes of this review, I am not going to include Alien 3, Alien: Resurrection, Prometheus, nor Alien: Covenant.... mostly. The AvP films really don't take much of anything beyond the first two films, though I will touch on Prometheus when it comes to religion.

Ditto for the Predator films, but that's because Predator wouldn't get a third film until 2010, 3 years after the AvP duo.

The themes of Alien Franchise:

I'm sure the first thing to come to mind is that the Alien series is about sexual assault, and you'd be correct. The xenomorph is designed to be extremely phallic, the facehuggers quite literally rape their victims, Burke locks his victims (including a child) in a room to be raped, Ash tries to murder Ripley by thrusting a rolled up porn magazine down her throat etc etc.

Some of you might also remember how Aliens was noted by James Cameron to be a criticism of the Vietnam War, Corporate Greed, and the callous arrogance of the US Military. The xenomorphs represented the innumerable "faceless" soldiers that could overwhelm more advanced enemies with ambush tactics and numbers, Burke thinks only in "goddamn percentages" and how this could benefit himself and the company, and the Colonial Marines are not only woefully mismanaged a newly brought on commander but also completely delusional with their own sense of invulnerability, only to break and panic under pressure once they meet a foe who is determined to fight to the death.

(I will NOT be tackling the fucked-upness of comparing people fighting for their independence vs a fucking Xenomorph, because holy fucking shit, it is literally the opposite AND worse counterpart to having the Predators be colonizers)

But, in the broader scope of the series, Alien - and the xenomorph - represent the uncontrollable, unfathomable, unknown. What are they? Why were they there? What are their motives? How did they end up in that ship? Were they built? How do they 'see'? Why did the xenomorph spare Jonesy the Cat? Are they intelligent life? How on earth do they function with their bizarre biology?

We don't get any real answers to these questions in the original films. The whole point of these movies is that there are things that mankind does not understand, and the horrors of space are vast. And equally terrifying is the arrogance of man (and synth kind) to think they can harness this horror for profit at the expense of human lives.

The themes of the Predator Franchise:

There's been tons of articles on how Predator is either a reconstruction or deconstruction (depending on who you ask) of the 80's action hero flick. A team of muscle laden, big gun toting, sweaty men spouting off one-liners as they mow down their enemies in a secret CIA led operation during the Cold War, interrupted by the presence of an intergalactic hunter than treats these badasses like mere toys. The massive Arnold Schwarzenegger is smacked out like a mouse facing off against a particularly cruel cat, needing to rely on tricks - not his brawns or guns - to stay alive and eventually defeat the Predator.

Others might point to its related take down of machismo. The opening scene is rife with characters testing each other's physical strength against each other such as with Dillon and Dutch, Ventura and Dutch have a small face-off in the helicopter as they try to make a pecking order, Ventura makes a whole speech about being a "sexual tyrannosaurus" and then mocked about sticking a gun up his "sore-ass", Hawkins repeatedly tries to make pussy and sex jokes, and they end up with a single woman in the group who is treated more like an object and baggage than a person for much of the movie. All of these men are emasculated by the Predator, some of them not even lasting a single second to its predations (both in tech and physicality), all of them losing any sense of quips and confidence, and the sole woman of the group survives because she didn't fit the movie's (and Predator's) mold of "tough as nails". When Arnold/Dutch is rescued by helicopter, it's not a cheerful one; he's haunted by what he endured and remains silent as the film pans into his thousand-yard stare.

All of this applies to Predator 2 as well, amping up the violence, dick measuring, and rules of the Predator targeting anyone who thinks they are tough shit for carrying a gun or knife. Even Danny Glover's victory is bittersweet, because he is now left in the middle of dozens of officer deaths, and entire subway car filled with corpses, and an antique flintlock pistol that promises the return of the Predators to Earth.

In a much broader sense, the Predator films are about the oversaturation of violence and lack of care for human life. Predator 1's main plot before he arrives is the CIA using Green Berets and then Dutch's special ops team to clean up their dirty work, giving them false information and not even reporting the Berets being MIA in furtherance of their Cold War goals (slaughtering guerrillas who were working with Soviet Russia). In Predator 2, the police are seen as being ineffective because they trample on each other's jurisdiction, with the Federal task force being willing to kill their own cops to keep the Predator existence a secret and letting it hunt people down for a better chance at capture and experimentation.

The Predator creatures are the epitome of such greed and arrogance. They are the General Zaroffs of The Most Dangerous Game, taken to a new height by showing that human lives literally mean nothing to them beyond a trophy hunt. They care nothing about our social lives, our politics, our loved ones, because for them this is nothing more than the equivalent of posh British Elite going on a Fox Hunt: cruel and sadistic, just to placate their egos. They will violate the corpses of the dead and taunt those in mourning, for the thrill of the game. And in that sense, the Predators are very human antagonists: they are not unfathomable nor are their goals beyond our understanding. The horror of the Predators is that they are creatures we can understand, communicate with, and even see similarities in their culture to ours... and that culture is putting us on a trophy rack alongside other skulls of creatures they felt a thrill to hunt.

So, did the Alien vs Predator films cover even half of these topics?

Well... kinda? Just... not well.

Not well at all.

The Build Up

Alien and Predator have a connected history dating back to the creation of the Predator itself. Stan Winston was on a flight with James Cameron some time after the famous director had finished with Aliens, and the director made a comment about wanting to see a monster with mandibles, which eventually led to the creature we know and love today.

Predator's debut on screen was also often compared to Aliens due to the superficially similar premise of a team of commandos going on a mission and fighting an unknown alien threat.

Despite what some people think, the AvP series wasn't started by the films.

Yes, there was a particularly memorable scene in Predator 2, where the City Hunter is admiring his trophy room and a xenomorph skull can be seen mounted on the wall (though, fun fact, it's actually an inaccurate depiction as xenomorph skulls look more humanoid facing), but that wasn't the first time the duo met in media.

And I'm not referring to the 1993 Arcade Game either (since that only came out a year after Predator 2).

The Alien vs Predator comic first appeared in 1989. And there were publications continuing ever since.

Think about that going forward. There was 25 years of content to choose from, storylines they could adapt, interesting forays into the cosmology and interactions between Yaujta, Xenomorphs, and Humanity.

The movies used exactly none of it (barring 1 thing: the Predalien).

Alien vs Predator (2004)

The plot of this movie is that Weyland-Yutani corporation detects a heat bloom under the ice in Antartica that reveals an underground pyramid, and in a race against his competitors, Weyland rounds up a team of elite experts led by Lex Woods to investigate the ruins (and find that the Predators have left them a convenient tunnel to enter the deep ice). Only to find out that this was a trap, as the pyramid comes to life activates a Xenomorph Queen, unleashing a brood of facehuggers on the helpless crew, all the while the Predators hunt them down. After a spectacular shitshow and release of the Xenomorph Queen, Lex and the last Predator (Scar) have to reluctantly team up to escape the pyramid and blow up the xenomorphs, ending in a final battle with the Xenomorph Queen. Scar perishes in the fight, but Lex manages to send the Queen into the depth of the artic ocean, and is rewarded by the watching Eldar Predator with a spear for her troubles. A post-credit scene reveals that Scar had a chest-burster inside of him, birthing the Predalien!

Rewatching this movie, I'm surprised at how good it looks. The opening scene of the satellite in space, several shots of the ship (and spaceship), the frozen tundra, the set pieces like the Xenomorph Queen Prison, and the CGI!

The CGI! Of 2004! I was shocked that they looked so good for something that is 20 years old now, but they did really well for themselves.

But it was the practical effects that blew me away the most. The shifting Pyramid is absolutely iconic and the abandoned whaling station is suitably creepy. The face-huggers look amazing and the xenomorphs are just *chefs kiss*. It's so funny seeing these Xenomorph effects compared to that of Alien:Covenant, and seeing how much work bodysuit and puppetry can do to make a monster look so much more terrifying than a CGI creature.

I know a lot of people didn't like the Predator's bulky appearance in this movie, but honestly... I dig it? It makes sense that not all Predators are literally built the same, and that the ones who would choose to go hunting in the artic would be the bigger ones who could hold more body heat. And the movie does a really great fucking job of making these Predators look badass and distinct from each other, with Celtic having the coolest mask of the whole group.

And the way the movie is shot is really fantastic! There are a lot of wide and tracking shots where the movie lets the atmosphere do the work instead of badgering us with words, taking its time to build up tension and soak up the visuals. One of my favorites shots they did was slow roam through the Predator ship as the systems come to life and we get to see holograms come on-line, feeding information directly into their masks. Equally good was when the Xenomorph Queen is awakened to cackling electricity and ominous lighting, showing us how vast this chamber is and how huge this Queen is in comparison to the one Ripley faces.

The same goes for most of the actions scenes, with a decent amount of cool slow-mo shots for things like Face-huggles launching themselves, Predators leaping across chasms, and showing Scar's impressive athleticism when he leaps 10 meters into the air and stabs a spear through the Queens skull.

And I can always rewatch the first time Alien Meets Predator Fight. God, that score! The music is just so damn good!!! You really feel like you are watching two massive horrors from space finally finding themselves sharing a space together.

Honestly, the Predators using the Xenomorphs as some kind of fucked up exotic pet for hunting trials and training fits the lore PERFECTLY. It’s actually a literal fox hunt not just metaphorical (and of course, in typical Alien fashion, it all went to shit).

Aliens vs Predator: Requiem (2007)

"Wait, Ridtom/VictoriaDallonFan, are you about to say something nice about AvP:R?!"

Well, after turning up the brightness and hanging blankets over my windows and then watching the movie underneath more blankets... yes!

For one thing, the Alien and Predator effects are spectacular! Some of the best work I've seen in the franchises! The fight scenes are creative and use really cool set-pieces like the sewer and power plant, where we get to see Wolf (the name of the Predator of this movie) absolutely kick ass and slaughter his way through hordes of Xenomorphs. Not that the xenos are left in the dust, as they get plenty of murders on screen and even outsmart Wolf on occasion.

I actually like the Predalien design and the idea that it’s more intelligent than the average Xeno, including holding personal grudges and understanding Predator behavior.

And the Predator tech is really cool too! We got laser grids, land mines, power fists, converting the plasma caster into a plasma pistol And I love the moment where Wolf kidnaps one of the human protags to use as live bait. Such a dick thing to do but so in-character.

Even the bits we get of Wolf mourning his fellow dead hunters was a neat addition.

And to be honest, I didn’t mind the idea of seeing an actual xenomorph infestation in real time, in a small town. I think that sort of setting would be really fun for a one-shot story.

And… that’s it. That’s all the good stuff.

What Went Wrong?

I compiled a list of sources where I got a lot of information on the AvP production: Source 1, Source 2, Source 3, Source 4

Note that a lot of these are 20 years old so I apologize for the outdated and honestly abhorrent word use that some articles and videos may use. And another apology for using the Xenopedia wiki, it was just a good shorthand for other information.

In short: Fox fucking sucks. They will absolutely self-sabotage themselves in order to make a (perceived) profit. Tom Rothman is the most well known (and he’s gone to Sony as of now), but Fox has had a looong history of being stingy and terrified of any risks for their films.

The sheer amount of drama involving Alien 3 and Alien Resurrection is an insane rollercoaster.

AvP removed pretty much any sense of horror and purposely had the design of the Predators to be more “human” and “heroic” (hence the weird human eyes and bulky physique), with a PG-13 rating for more audience numbers. While the human characters aren’t bad, they are not unique or even memorable (barring the fandom romantic tension between Lexi and the final Predator). Also, it was very weird that the Predators couldn’t kill a single Xenomorph, meanwhile the Colonial Marines couldn’t trip without blasting apart swarms of them. It felt like they really wanted to save money on the film in that regard.

AvP:R was even worse, with it being filmed with such a lack of lighting that people could not actually see any of the movie, and even modern advancements in color grading make it a strain. The human characters are awful, just absolutely boring and unremarkable beyond being veiled callbacks to characters from Alien, and we get a bunch of stupid Dawson’s Creek drama involving teenagers who look like they are 30 years old fighting over a girl who has no personality because she was written to just be “hot girl”.

If the story had focused entirely on the wife coming home from the war and dealing with the fact that her own daughter doesn’t feel close or comfortable with her after years of being gone, there could have been focus and themes and yadda yadda yadda.

Also, while this movie at least has horror aspects, did we REALLY need to see the Xenomorphs eating the fetuses and belly bursting out of still screaming mothers? Like, there is horror and then there is just being gross.

Final Thoughts

I often wonder if AvP took the wind out of the sails of Prometheus. Both play with the idea of humans worshiping aliens as gods, because Ancient Aliens is fucking everywhere, but it’s really hard to take Prometheus seriously when you remember AvP did basically the same setup (with arguably smarter characters).

And these movies have really soiled the idea of the AvP franchise barring the video games and comics. There’s apparently an AvP anime locked up in Disney Vaults and so far, both franchises have kept their respectful distances from each other.

However, with the recent successes of Alien: Romulus and Prey, there’s been a bit of a stir with some comments hinting at a potential AvP future.

Who knows. It’s been 17 years, perhaps 3rd time is the charm.

#avp #avp:r #avp: requiem #alien vs predator #alien vs predator: requiem #alien vs predator requiem #alien franchise #xenomorph #predator franchise #the predator #yautja #yaujta #film analysis #prey 2022 #alien: romulus

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