#so this episode was fucking crazy huh?

[brennan-lee-mother]

[our friends] are not pull string dolls for our amusement,” Rekha said, standing on an apple box she had been manoeuvred onto like a pull string doll for Jess’ amusement

[feels-for-the-fictional]

You can't tell me our main man Jim, Jim Kirk, James Kirk, James T Kirk, James Tiberius Kirk, CAPTAIN stack of books on legs James Respectful and Sensitive Tiberius Kirk does not know about Vulcan hand touching and their significance.

This man. JAMES KIRK. Looked at Spock, clearly vulcan spock, hands firmly planted behind his back Spock. LOOKED him up and down, and despite absolutely knowing it would not be considered impolite if he didnt offer a hand shake, looked at Spock, tall drink of water Spock, Vulcan sensitive hands used as terms of affection Spock, and was like hmmmm absolutely will make this Vulcan shake my hand. AND SPOCK gave like 1 second of thought before he was like yes absolutely here is my hand to hold for you and you only. I AM DECEASED

[chanagun]

I’ve connected the soundwin dots

[captainsolocide]

okay. so I was never super big on roy/jamie/keely. but uh. that episode. huh. well. I think I'm sold now.

[late-musings]

happy one year anniversary to stranger things s4 vol 2!

anyone else remember the viewing party netflix was hosting on scener (an, at the time, fairly new and unknown group streaming website) that included a cast Q&A with david harbour, brett gelman, jamie campbell bower, and joseph quinn but too many people rsvp'ed and scener could not handle that many people on the site so no one could log in to their account or join the room except the lone 5 people it said that were in there and this was 30 minutes before the premiere of episode 8 so time was ticking and scener only tweeted an explanation 15 minutes before the show started saying to hang on but then the stranger things instagram account went live with everyone except joseph quinn to host their own Q&A that at its height had 200k viewers so now you know scener had fucked up thinking they could handle a huge netflix event without doing anything to their servers and they didn't tweet anything other than that one explanation then people figured out the 5 people in the room were the host + cast and that they were probably in there alone for 15 minutes wondering why no one was joining and joseph didn't join the instagram live because he doesn't even have access to his own account and now it's 12:02 am and the big lead-up to arguably the most anticipated premiere of a show in 2022 is ruined so you just give up and go on netflix to actually start watching it only to find out it ALSO crashed so now you're stuck waiting for netflix to load knowing there's long lost content of the cast and not to mention what would've been joseph quinn's first time both interacting with fans and being interviewed post season 4 vol 1's premiere?

[hecksupremechips]

I don’t remember much from the danganronpa end of hopes peak anime, nor do I remember liking it too much, but every time I think about the episode where Chiaki dies I kinda just have to lie down and cry for a minute 🥺

[illumwriting]

thinking about how tumblr dot fucking com nuked my original writing blog's url because it read sass as ass

[youreaclownnow]

I fucking love g ep 45... absolutely kino final battle between my faves.

[carmenberzattosgf]

OH MY GOD CARMY SMOKING WHILE YOU RIDE HIM walk with me…

maybe you’re at his place, or his office, and you’ve just been kinda needy all day. not to an ‘annoying’ extent, but carmen sees it because he knows you. so when he tugs his jeans and boxers down just enough for you, you pounce

he leans back in his couch/chair, pulling out a cigarette and lazily watches you go at it. maybe he’d tug your shirt up so he could ‘see his girls.’ his nonchalance just drives you fucking crazy and he lets you do it yourself, no matter how many times you whine for him to help because ‘you were fuckin’ gagging for it all day, who am i to interrupt, huh? jus’ keep fuckin’ me like that’

i don’t think he’d blow smoke in your face (intentionally) but if you find it hot he would. and once he’s done he puts out the cigarette, his lax grip on your thighs tightening as he starts snapping his hips against yours

Also includes this ask I got shortly after: Camry smoking a cig during sex has my mind going brrrrrrrrrrrrr. It's so lazy, too. just slow riding him while he lays back and watches. Maybe it's punishment for acting up???? You're just whining on his cock begging for him to help you cum.

I. YEAH. YOU GET IT. Time to expand on these thoughts. ( this ended up being 1670k words of filth)

You find yourself at Carmy’s apartment on his day off. Those don’t come around too often. You expected him to do something by now, but he hasn’t made a single move to get his hands on you. He kissed you when you came in, but that was about it.

You take matters into your own hands. Try to, at least. You are practically all over him, never leaving his side. When he’s standing at his kitchen counter that evening, pouring you a glass of wine, you quietly walk up behind him. Your arms wrap around his waist while you rest your forehead on the center of Carmy’s back. You let your hands gently slide over the taunt muscles of his stomach over his shirt as you speak.

“I’ve missed you, Bear. Missed your hugs. It feels like I’ve hardly seen you all week.” He sighs into your touch.

“I’ve missed you too, baby.” Carmy turns around to hand you the glass. “Work was extra crazy this week. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to see you.”

“It’s alright. I know it was out of your control…Maybe there’s a way you can make it up to me?” You flash him a look he knows full well.

A breathy chuckle leaves his lips. “Sweetheart, I’m exhausted. Can we just watch some tv?”

You don’t even attempt to hide the pout on your face as you settle next to him on the couch, leaning against him with his arm around you. Carmy put on a show he knows the both of you like.

You only keep your hands to yourself for one whole episode. Your movements start slow. At first you begin to trail your fingertips along his side. It’s not long before your hand slides up under the fabric of his white tee.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Carmen’s voice is smooth and calm. You lean up to press a kiss on his check, followed by a quick one to his neck.

“Oh. Nothing.”

“Let’s not play dumb now. I think you know better than that.” He leans back away from your body, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m going to let you try again. What are you doing?”

You fold instantly. “I need you, Carm. I really need you.”

“Yeah? Missed my cock, huh? Want it so bad that you don’t care about how tired I am?”

“No! No, that’s not it—“ you protest quickly.

“Fine.” Carmy begins to unbuckle his belt as he speaks. “But I’m not putting in any work.” He lowers his jeans and boxers just enough to free his dick.

Without a second thought, you stand up from the couch and pull down your pants and underwear. Once you straddle his hips, you reach down and pump his hard cock, spreading the precum over his length. Carmy takes in the sight of you as you gradually sink down onto him. Slowly, inch by inch.

Despite how many times you've been with Carmy, you still haven't gotten used to the stretch. In a position like this, it almost feels like he's in your stomach. Your eyelids squint shut while you take deep breaths and try to adjust. Though, at the sound of a lighter, your eyes pop right back open, staring down at Carmen with wide-eyes. A cigarette rests between his lips, having just been lit.

“W-what are you doing?” You’re expecting him to start guiding your hips, but he doesn’t. Carmy leans back against the couch, making himself comfortable. He lets his legs spread wide, forcing you to straddle higher up on his hips. The action presses his cock even deeper inside of you. He looks as though he’s having an evening cigarette, only difference is that you’re on top of him.

His tattooed fingers takes the cigarette from his mouth so he can blow out the smoke. Carmy turns his head to the side, blowing the smoke cloud away from you. The smell quickly fills up your nose. "I told you, l'm tired.” His voice is stoic. If it wasn’t for his cock pulsing inside of you, you wouldn’t think he’s turned on. “Go on and get yourself off. I'm going to enjoy my cigarette."

You start slow, grinding your hips on him. Your hands rest on his lower stomach for leverage as you rock against him. His abs are taunt and hard underneath your palms. The motion rubs your clit on his pelvis, causing a breathless moan to leave your throat.

Carmy remains still beneath you, watching you with lust-filled eyes. One of his hands rests on your thigh. His other hand tends to the cigarette in his mouth. He speaks up after a moment of letting you rock against him.

“Should have just let you sit on my thigh if all you’re going to do is grind on me. Thought you said you wanted my cock?” He waits for your response, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips to take a deep drag.

“I-I do—“ Carmy doesn’t let you finish your sentence, lightly blowing smoke into your face. He doesn’t miss the way you clench around him from the simple action, but he chooses not to tease you for it.

“Then fuck yourself on me. You’re a big girl. You can do it by yourself.”

You whimper pitifully. You want his strong arms to grab your hips and slam you down onto his cock, but that wasn’t going to happen. You rise up on your knees, letting his cock thrust almost entirely out of you. Your hips sink right back down onto him afterwards. The pleasure is unexplainable, sending electricity through your veins as he bottoms out.

You set a slow pace, not able to go as fast without Carmy’s help. His pupils are blown wide as he stares up at you, before his gaze moves downwards. He watches as his cock disappears inside of you with each slow thrust. You’re dripping, coating his dick with your arousal. The sight of his thick cock stretching you out hypnotizes him.

His lack of words and refusal to help is killing you. You need him to fuck you. Your thighs burn, growing tired from the repetitive movements. “C-carm. Need you to help. Please- please I need it.” You cry out.

“You were the one gagging for my cock all day. Why should I help? Just keep fucking me like this, yeah?” He’s nearing the end of his cigarette, only a couple more minutes of life left in it. You try your best to continue bouncing on him, but it’s getting more difficult by the minute.

“Carm— fuck!” You exclaim as his cock nudges against that spot deep inside you. Carmy ignores your cries. He takes his hand off of your thigh and tugs the material of your tank top up, exposing your tits.

“There we go. Now I can see my girls.” He still doesn’t go any further than that, letting his hand go back to resting on your thigh. Not even so much as rubbing a thumb over your breast. He goes back to watching you move, fighting the urge to hold your tits for you while you bounce.

The muscles in your legs begin to twitch, but not from being close to your high. Your legs are exhausted, and your pace shows it. You’re getting slower, not going as consistently.

Carmy reaches the end of his cigarette, taking one last long drag. He grabs your face with his hand. His thumb on your chin opens up your lips. Carmen exhales the smoke into your mouth, expecting you to inhale it. You do exactly that, letting the smoke fill up your lungs before blowing it out in the space between the two of you.

Now fully satisfied, Carmy reaches over to stub out his cigarette on the ash tray sitting on the side table. Without offering a single word, Carmy digs his hands into both of your thighs and starts slamming his hips into yours. Sounds of skin against skin echo against the walls.

“Shit! Fuck, Carmy—“ you moan, not even trying to control your volume. “I can— I can feel you in my stomach, shit—“ You take one of your hands and press beneath your navel, feeling his cock as it thrusts rapidly into your soaking cunt. “Feels so good, Carm.” You’re blabbering at this point, high on the feeling of him inside you. Your orgasm draws close fast.

“Yeah you needed me so bad that you couldn’t get off without me? Is that it? My little girl needed some help?”

“Yes—“

“Then what do you say?” Carmen is nearing his own high, too. His pace grows sloppy.

“T-thank you— fuck— thank you, Carmy.”

“There’s my respectful good girl. Just needed a little bit of punishment to get her back.” He detaches a hand from your thigh, moving it to your aching clit. He rubs tight fast circles on the bud with a calloused thumb. “Go on, baby. Cum for me. Soak my cock.”

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Euphoria floods through your veins as Carmy fucks you through it. You collapse into his body, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. The sounds of your moans and whimpers muffles in the skin of his neck. Your body shakes from pleasure.

Carmy removes his thumb from your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you. You had already been punished enough. His hand rests at the back of your head, cupping it gently. The gentleness of his hands starkly contrasts the way his hips sharply thrust into you.

“Atta girl. Just a bit more—“ he groans, offering you some praise. With a few more powerful thrusts of his hips, Carmy spills inside of you, filling you up with his cum. You both remain wordless in each others’ arms for a moment, trying to catch a breath. Carmy is the first to break the silence. “You happy now?” This time his voice has a hint of laugh to it.

“Mhm.” You kiss his neck. “Very happy. Thank you.”

“I think you know I’ll do anything you want at this point.” He laughs. “Now, can we go clean up and go to sleep? I’m even more exhausted now, baby.”

[rafecameronssl4t]

Trapped || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @whumpypepsigal

Summary: canon fic based off season 2 episode 9

Warnings: swearing, reader dr*gs Sarah, mention of dead body, reader lowk is abit crazy

Word count: 1,463

A/n: guys I acc have an addiction to writing canon fics but I can’t help myself, they’re so fun to write 😭

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

"What the hell!" Sarah screamed, throwing another wine glass at the door, its contents spraying everywhere. "You asshole!" she continued, banging her fist against the wood. "Rafe! Let me out!"

"I'm not letting you out, Sarah. Not until you calm down, okay?" Rafe's voice came through the door, surprisingly calm despite Sarah's outburst. "Screw you!" Sarah fired back, frustration evident in her voice.

Walking down the staircase, you were startled awake by the commotion. "Rafe, what's going on?" you called out, confusion etched on your face as Rafe turned to face you, "who is that?". "Y/n?" Sarah's voice came from behind the door, filled with relief.

"Sarah?" you said incredulously, glancing between Rafe and the locked door. "Yeah," Rafe replied casually, causing your breath to hitch in disbelief. "Why is she locked in there?" you asked, trying to make sense of the situation. "Rafe locked me in here!" Sarah's voice was strained with frustration and panic.

"She's in there because sometimes you have to make the hard choice, right?" Rafe explained as you stare at him in shock, "she just didn't get that," he continues with a shrug. "Right choice? What- what the fuck is going on, Rafe. You're scaring me," you gulp, your voice trembling as you tried to comprehend the situation, your eyes darting from the door to Rafe.

"You fail to understand that constantly, don't you? Huh?"Rafe's voice rose slightly as he banged his hand against the door. "Shut the hell up!" Sarah yelled from inside the room, her desperation audible as you run a hand through your hair, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

"You need to calm down!" Rafe shouted at the door, his frustration palpable. You reached out and gripped his shoulders firmly. As Sarah’s screams echoed through the room—“What do you mean, calm down? What is wrong with you?”—you closed your eyes briefly, steadying yourself. Placing your hands on either side of Rafe’s face, you forced him to look at you.

“Go upstairs. I’ve got this,” you said, managing to keep your voice calm. Rafe hesitated, then nodded, seemingly trusting you. “All right,” he agreed, but you noticed his eyes flicking back toward the door. “Just go!” you insisted, your tone firmer. As he finally turned and walked up the stairs, you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart while watching him disappear from view.

Turning back to the door, you approached it slowly. "Sarah," you called out gently. "Can you let me out?" Sarah's voice came back, filled with desperation. "I need you to calm down, Sarah," you urged softly, bracing yourself as Sarah continued to pound on the door. "Let me out!" she sobbed, her fear palpable.

"I really want to help you, Sarah, but I need to get the key first, okay?" you explained patiently, trying to soothe her panic. "I can't let you out without the key. Sarah, listen to me," you said firmly, your voice unwavering despite the urgency of the situation. "I promise you, I won't let Rafe do anything to you. But I need you to stay calm. Can you do that for me? I'll be right back."

"No, no, no, no," Sarah repeated, her voice trembling with panic as you stepped away from the door. "Y/n! Y/n! Please... please don't leave!" she pleaded desperately, her distress palpable.

When you made it upstairs, Rafe was nowhere to be found. You hurried to the kitchen, riffling through the medicine drawer. "What are you doing?" Wheezie's voice came from behind, making you jump. Your hand flying to your chest to steady your racing heart. "Jesus, Wheez, don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Go back to your room, you should be asleep right now," you said, still searching through the pill bottles until you found what you were looking for. "What is that for?" Wheezie questions, coming closer to you. "It's for me," you replied, trying to stay calm as you set up a tea set on a tray. "I can't sleep."

"Right," Wheezie nodded as you glanced at her. "Go to bed, Eloise. I'm serious," you insisted, your tone firm as she raised her hands in surrender. "All right, all right," she muttered, and you watched her retreat upstairs.

Letting out a shaky breath, you opened the teapot and placed it on the stove, letting it steep for a few moments. Then, grabbing the keys from the counter, you collected the tea set and headed downstairs.

Unlocking the door with a quiet click, it creaked open slowly. "Sarah?" you called out, seeing her scramble towards you. Her eyes were red and puffy, her appearance disheveled. "I need to call 911. We need to—" Her voice trembled with urgency, but you gently took her hand.

"Okay, sit down," you urged, guiding her to the armchair. "Sarah, it's okay," you said softly, trying to calm her as she struggled to catch her breath. "Tell me what happened." You sat beside her, speaking in a soothing tone. "Take deep breaths. In and out. That's it," you encouraged, mirroring your breaths with hers. "It's okay."

"It's okay," you repeated reassuringly, pouring tea into a cup. With a shaky voice, Sarah began to explain. "I came home, and, um, I was looking for something. And there's a truck outside," she said, taking the tea cup you passed to her.

"Here, here. Take some tea," you said gently, helping Sarah hold the cup in her shaky hands. "There's a body back there, y/n!" she whispered, tears streaming down her face, and your eyes widened in shock.

"We need to turn him in," Sarah's voice cracked as she took sips of the tea. "We'll get to the bottom of it, okay?" you reassured her, though your own voice trembled slightly. "Will you help me call?" Sarah asked with a shaky voice, and your heart broke knowing what lay ahead.

"I will help you. Here, drink more," you encouraged, guiding the cup close to her mouth while pretending to drink from your own. "I'm afraid Rafe has killed someone else," Sarah's words made you pause, setting the cup back down. "And last time he did that... Dad took the blame, and you see where that got him," she sniffled, and you listened intently.

"Sarah, you're right. Something is wrong with Rafe, okay?" You affirmed softly, reaching out to squeeze her hand in reassurance. Sarah nodded, her tears flowing freely now. “I’m so tired of it,” she sobbed. "I know. You just need to calm down. It's gonna be okay," you offered her a gentle smile, your hand patting her thigh reassuringly. "You need to rest, Sarah."

"I don't need—" Sarah began, her voice trembling as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "No, you do," you interjected gently but firmly as you knelt beside her. "I'm fine!" Sarah insisted, her words strained as she leaned back in the chair, her whole body tense with anxiety.

"And then, when you wake up, everything's gonna be so much better," you said softly, trying to reassure her. "Yeah, I'm gonna come with you guys on this little trip. What do you think about that?" you suggested, watching Sarah's gaze drop to the cup in her trembling hands. Her breathing grew heavy, and she seemed overwhelmed.

“What—what did you do?” Sarah whispered, looking at you with a mixture of fear and betrayal, tears welling in her eyes, mirrored by your own. "Sarah, I'm really sorry," your voice cracked with emotion as you pulled out the pill bottle. Sarah's face fell as she stared at it, realization dawning.

"Nothing bad is gonna happen to you, I promise. I promise nothing bad is gonna happen to you, but I needed you to rest," you pleaded, tears now streaming down your face as Sarah shook her head in disbelief,

"No, no, no. You're just like him, you're just like Rafe, I—" You couldn't bear to hear Sarah's words, your eyes screwing shut and your hand instinctively covering your mouth. Just like Rafe. The words echoed painfully in your mind.

"I had to do it, Sarah. You won't understand," you murmured sadly, shaking your head at her. But Sarah's eyes rolled back, her body suddenly going limp, the cup slipping from her fingers and clattering to the floor. “I’m so sorry,” You whispered, wiping the tears from your cheeks as you leave.

~

“Rafe,” you called out weakly, your voice barely above a whisper as he turned around, his eyes widening in concern as he took in your disheveled appearance. “What is going on—” Your voice cracked, tears welling up in your eyes. Before you could say more, Rafe rushed over and wrapped you in a tight embrace.

You sniffled against his chest, feeling his hand move soothingly across your back in comforting circles. He kissed your forehead gently, his touch warm and reassuring. “Everything will be okay, yeah?” he murmured, trying to calm you down.

“I just talked to Sarah,” you began, your words catching in your throat. “She said there’s a body in the truck, right?”Rafe’s expression grew serious as he pulled back slightly to look at you. “That’s Renfield,” he confirmed with a deep sigh. His voice was steady, almost detached, as if he were trying to distance himself from the gravity of the situation.

You slowly pulled away from his grip, your mind racing with questions and doubts. Seeing your reaction, worry filled his eyes. “No, no, y/n. I didn’t do shit, okay? I didn’t do shit!” he insisted, his tone urgent as he tried to convince you. You studied his face, searching for any sign of deception.

“Limbrey did it. I took the truck, and I left the old lady at the hangar, all right?” Rafe explained in a calm, measured tone, stepping closer to you. You could feel your breathing quicken, your heart pounding in your chest. “I got the cross for all of us, okay?”

Your hand came up to your forehead, a headache starting to throb painfully. “This is all so much—” you whispered, feeling overwhelmed by what just happened. Noticing your panic, Rafe gently took your hands in his. “Here, you need to sit down,” he said softly, guiding you to an armchair and helping you to sit.

As you sank into the chair, Rafe knelt beside you, his eyes never leaving yours. “I got the cross for all of us, okay?” he spoke, his voice steady. You remained quiet, focusing on steadying your breathing. “Okay?” Rafe repeated, his voice rising slightly in urgency. You quickly nodded, hoping to calm him down.

“And I was just getting ready to take care of Renfield when you came up,” Rafe continued, his tone shifting to one of anger and annoyance. You looked at him in disbelief. “Why are you getting mad at me right now—” you began, but Rafe cut you off.

“You should be… you should be thanking me,” he insisted, his gaze intense and unyielding. “Thanking you? What the fuck, Rafe, I just drugged Sarah for you,” you exclaimed, pushing his hand off of you in frustration. Rafe furrowed his brows, confusion mingling with anger. “I didn’t—I didn’t ask you to do that, okay—” he started, but you cut him off with a stern voice.

“What was I supposed to do, Rafe? She already knew about the body and she was freaking the fuck out. She was going to turn you in!” Your voice rose in volume, the tension between you thickening. Rafe stayed quiet, absorbing your words, the reality of the situation sinking in.

“Sarah was out of control, and I had to do something,” you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing. “I can’t keep doing these things for you,” you sniffled, your fingers nervously playing with the initials on your necklace, the small charm feeling like a heavy weight.

“Hey, what are you trying to say—” Rafe began, his face a mask of confusion and concern as he took a step closer to you. “But I will,” you interrupted, your voice breaking slightly. You looked up at him with a mix of resignation and love in your eyes.

“Because I love you, and I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone,” you said quietly, your heart aching with the truth of your words. Rafe’s expression softened as he reached out and pulled you into a deep, reassuring kiss. His lips were warm and familiar, a brief moment of comfort in the chaos.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and my family. I’m serious,” Rafe murmured against your lips, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. He pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you protectively. You felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you, your body and mind drained from everything that just happened.

“Go to bed. I’ll sort it all out, okay?” Rafe said softly, helping you stand up. His hands were gentle but firm, guiding you towards the stairs. You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and weariness.

[sparklingsora]

...so how about that new episode huh (rant below for those who care to see my opinion on it):

honestly this episode was pretty solid. i really liked the song, i'm so glad to get a more broadway-style song after all the pop that we've been getting in recent times. i was also happy to see the dhorks and cherubs come back (fucking finally) also i'm happy that stolas clearly communicated his feelings, i was afraid he wouldnt say the "i want you to stay" part, but thankfully he did. good for him. um that said i'm seeing everyone going crazy over the "i didn't realize you thought so lowly of me" line and i'm just kinda sitting over here like <:) because like....... blitz was not wrong??? his perception is very much founded in reality, stolas has been consistently condescending towards him and the other imps. im pretty sure stolas is meant to be getting better in that area, but he hasn't really shown that to blitz so um. yeah. overall to nobody's surprise stolitz continues to be a trainwreck, but i'm tentatively happy to finally see some changes to the status quo, and my opinion of stolitz went from "UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" to "ok i'm kinda invested" so, hooray? still not back to the amount of investment i had before season 2, but it's something (also, i find it hilarious how fans immediately started taking sides. this is really just gomens s2 finale all over again)

[scarrletmoon]

okay i know the Discourse™️ has been going on for way too long at this point, but

i think some people outside of the OFMD fandom don’t actually get why we’re particularly annoying about this show

OFMD is not the first queer show to ever exist. if anything, it's a late entry in decades of queer media. over a year and a half since the first few episodes aired, everyone knows that OFMD is queer. that doesn't make it particularly special

but back in March? this is the trailer that dropped in February of 2022, 2 weeks before the premier. if you're used to seeing queer chemistry in shows that aren't intended to be queer, you might see the hints between Ed and Stede here. but to most people? it's just a silly little pirate comedy. just guys being dudes. the trailer doesn't even hint at the other 2 canonical queer relationships in the show -- the closest it gets suggesting romance is the music and the pink in the poster

so when people watched this show in March 2022, they went into it expecting subtext and nothing else. to them, it was like watching Sherlock or Supernatural or Merlin in the 2010s. if you were in any of those fandoms -- especially Sherlock and Supernatural -- you know what it was like; constant jokes at our expense, being mocked for creating explicit fanwork, made fun of by the creators and within the show itself. if we saw queer subtext, that was our problem. this was a time when you pretended NOT to be in fandom, for fear of ridicule. we kept our fanwork to ourselves, we DID NOT share it with the cast, and we accepted that our favourite ships would probably never be canon. maybe one day, if we were lucky, we'd have a show where the subtext wasn't mockery as much as deliberate foreshadowing -- but that had to be YEARS away

right?

OFMD was never billed as a queer show, not in the beginning. there was no LGBTQ+ tag on (HBO) Max, it wasn't on anyone's list of upcoming queer shows in 2022, it flew under the radar through most of its first season. this was a show about pirates, and sure, some of them were queer. but not the LEADS. if you think they're romantically involved, that's must be fandom brain poisoning

except the 9th episode aired, and they kissed. and the show said "you're not crazy for thinking they have chemistry because they really do. it's been a romance this whole time". and in the 10th episode, Stede realizes that he's in love

(not mandating you watch this clip if you don't care for the show, but there's something that feels particularly earth shattering about no one saying the word gay but knowing that Stede's realizing he is, that it's completely unambiguous and explicit in a way that only straight romances are usually allowed to be)

this is why people freaked out about this show. no one knew. even the creator, David Jenkins, was surprised when WE were surprised that it was gay for real -- he set out to write a love story, using all the tried and true beats of a rom com. he'd never even heard of the term queerbaiting. he looked at historical Blackbeard and Stede Bonnet and thought "oh, there's something here" and just...wrote that, with very little fanfare, like it was inevitable. like it was obvious. of course Jim and Pam end up together. of course Buttercup and Westley end up together. what kind of disappointing ending would it be if You've Got Mail ended with the main characters just going their separate ways?

so of course Ed and Stede are in love

look, i get it. we're annoying and won't shut the fuck up about this show that seems mediocre at best. i watched the whole thing back in march, thought "huh, that was cool" and was sure that i'd forget about it in a few days

an hour after looking at fanart on twitter, i was lost in the fucking sauce

there's just so much to unpack from a mere 10 episodes. it covers racism, toxic masculinity, gender expression, sexuality, trauma and abuse. and i don't think we should overlook the fact that the non-white characters in this show get to be fully human in a way i haven't seen in my favourite shows in recent memory

additionally, most OFMD are 25 or older. we're not people who've been spoiled by queer rep, who don't get how hard it used to be, how you'd have to grovel for scraps, how shipping and fanfiction was a way to find queer rep where we thought there never would be. we've been here. we're annoying about this show because for a lot of us, it's the first time we've been treated like our queerness isn't an anomaly that needs to be relegated to its own section, that needs to be praised for the bare minimum of acknowledging that we exist. it's not pulling punches to avoid scaring away a straight audience. it just is.

OFMD for me is like when i watched Black Panther for the first time and realized that this is what white people felt all the time. have there been other black superhero movies? of course! does Disney fucking suck? BOY does it. but that was the first time i got to sit in a movie theater and watch a mainstream film that looked at Africa and said "look at how beautiful you are, exactly as you are"

and idk. i think that's really cool

[sttoru]

“BILLS, BILLS, BILLS.”

༄ sypnosis. toji had gotten paid from a recent job he finished and decided that the best way to count the money he earned, was by having you ride him in the meantime.

༄ note. recent jjk episode made me a bit more crazy about this man than i already was… so uhm, yeah.. not re-read.

༄ tags. toji x reader. dom!toji, sub!reader. female reader. degradation, dumbification, implied creampies, unprotected sex, calls you names such as ‘doll, little girl, pretty (thing), slut’, spanking, toji’s an ass. fic goes straight into it. mdni.

“whadd’ya say, doll?” toji hums absentmindedly, one hand on your hip and the other counting the money he got from a recent job.

“c-can’t— please.” your limbs were on the verge of giving out after riding him for almost two hours.

toji hasn’t even looked up at you once; his eyes were focused on his hard earned money. that’s all he cared about.

oh, and you looking all pretty while bouncing up and down on his cock of course.

“mm, that so?” toji murmurs with a grin, absolutely unfazed by your suffering, “y’know what happens if you stop.”

you did and you learned that the hard way. toji knows no mercy when it comes to punishing you— he’d call you dirty names, pound you so hard you won’t be able to walk properly and spank you to the point that you’ll be crying and begging for him to stop.

the only thing you could do in that moment was to gather all of your left over strength and continue to move your hips up and down his length.

“what’d ya say we get you a pretty dress with this?” toji asks as he waves a stack of money back and forth in front of your face; clearly taunting you.

you couldn’t even answer him anymore. your movements were getting sloppy and slow as you tried to hold yourself back from reaching your umpteenth orgasm.

“haah, mmh,” babbles. helpless babbles and whimpers were his answer.

toji clicks his tongue, creating a small disapproving ‘tsk’ sound, “use your words f’me, little girl.”

his big, rough hand slithers up your skin, from your waist to your breasts. toji puts one of your nipples between his index and middle finger before squeezing and pulling on the sensitive bud.

“c’mon. let me hear that whiny, pathetic voice of yours.”

a shiver runs down your spine the moment you felt toji pull at your nipple. your sweaty palms clung onto his chest as you tried to steady yourself on his throbbing cock.

“m’sorry..” you mumble between ragged breaths, trying not to focus on how well the way his tip was hitting your deepest parts, “i wan- wan’t.. dress.”

toji chuckles and shakes his head with a deep sigh once he hears you; you couldn’t even talk properly, “what a poor thing. fucked yourself dumb on my cock, huh?”

he pats the stack of bills against your tear-stained cheek while you continue to repeatedly push his length inside of your sweet, dripping pussy.

“poor, poor thing,” toji repeats in a low purr, his eyes roaming all over your sweaty body.

the sight of you being worn out from riding him, your slick staining his cock and his cum oozing out of your spent pussy with each thrust— it made him unfathomably hard.

his absent gaze lingers on your cunt and the way it swallows his dick all the way to the base over and over again. it was an hypnotising sight, that’s for sure.

“keep that up for another ten minutes, ‘kay?” toji grabs a different stack of bills and quickly counts the amount. his attention was once again averted from you.

your hips slowed their movements and your legs were trembling uncontrollably. your mouth was slightly agape and your own saliva dripped down the corners. you couldn’t take it any longer. not even for ten more minutes.

“t- toji, please,” you breathe out. that’s all you could utter as you grew slower and sloppier.

“mhm. i know.” toji coos with an understanding nod, though still not sparing you a glance as his fingers skilfully move over the money.

the dark haired man notices you slacking off more and more to the point that you’d almost stop all together. toji wasted no time and roughly smacked the flesh of your ass in response to that.

“that didn’t mean you could slow down, slut.”

toji’s eyes were still solely focused on his money and the expression on his face stayed the same, though the thing that changed in that split second was the cold tone of voice he used.

it always caught you off guard how fast he could go from a mocking, sweet tone to a straight up harsh and dominant one.

“sorry,” your hands were trembling as you tried to hold onto toji in any way you could.

you picked up your pace again— the repeated and loud sounds of skin to skin contact filled both of your ears.

you wanted to say so much more; to beg toji to give you permission to stop, to tell him that you couldn’t anymore, however it was like your body was under a trance. you just couldn’t stop chasing that addictive pleasure.

toji knew what kind of effect he has on you and that’s why he loves it when he can see you struggle to keep up with your own desires.

the way the needs of your body and mind clash and cause you to look like a mess who doesn’t know what she wants. you looked helpless; it was entertaining.

“you really should stop using that little brain of yours, doll.”

toji says, tone back to his usual mocking and condescending one, “a pretty thing like you should only focus on the cock that’s inside of her tight cunt.”

“tha’s all ya need to do.”

toji tosses the stack of money to the side once he finished counting it, only to grab a new one.

“twenty million yen.” he mutters under his breath, hissing a little after he felt you tighten up around him.

if toji wasn’t so determined to finish counting his money first, he’d have flipped you over on all fours and fucked you senseless for doing that.

your glassy eyes wandered to all the money spread out on the mattress— on the right side were the paper bills that toji had counted and on the left were the ones he still needed to go through.

it looked like both sides were equally filled, which was bad news for you since toji’d told you earlier that he’d only let you stop once he finishes counting every single bill.

toji smirked as he noticed you looking at the piles of money. he knew exactly what you were thinking of.

he leaned his face forward, one hand grabbing a fistful of your hair as his breath hit the skin of your ear. you could almost hear the big grin on his face as he teases you once again in a quiet whisper:

“don’t worry; there’s just fifteen million yen left to go, pretty.”

REBLOGS / COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

[huhniebowl]

hi!!!! could you possibly do something where the reader and dom are on a podcast together?? i think that would be super fun☺️☺️

anon, this is probably the funniest request i've ever worked on oh my god.😭 i had so much fun writing this! thank you for sending it in!

this is heavily inspired by the drake podcast with bobbi. i also read a few of dom's interviews, so a good bit of the dialogue is based on some things he's actually said.

this is dialogue heavy just so you all know! hope you love it!

¥

You move the mic stand that your crew set up, so it’s level with your face, and adjust yourself under the blankets of your guest star's bed. 

“Okay, tell me when,” Dominic says. He’s holding the clapperboard, and watching your crew for his signal. 

“Marking.” He says into the mic, then snaps the take. He grins, while one of the crew members come to take the clapperboard. “Ah, bet you didn’t think I knew about that huh?” 

It’s episode seven of your podcast, and you somehow managed to get Dominic Fike as your guest. You’ve been a fan of his for years, and have followed him through his ups and downs of fame, fortune, and misfortune.

You’re a little shocked at how well you’re keeping your composure by being able to have your favorite artist featured on your show, but you're thankful for it. 

“Hello everyone, welcome to episode seven of I’m Not in Your Bed, and today I’m here with.” 

You look over at Dominic, and he leans into his mic.

“Dominic Fike. How are you guys today.”

“Are you talking to me or the viewers?” 

“The viewers.” 

“This isn’t live though, so you won’t get to know their responses.” You turn on your side so you're facing Dom, and move your mic in front of you. 

“Well yeah, but, isn’t that like proper podcast etiquette or some shit.” He starts to trail off towards the end and he looks at the staff. You hear a few of them chuckle, and you almost do too, but you can’t break character. 

“Who taught you that?” 

“Well, I just sort of.” He pauses for a moment, “Fuck you.” There’s no bite to it, and the staff laughs out. 

"You think Drake is watching this?" He asks, fixing the glasses on his face.

"Maybe, he was my episode four."

"Were you in his bed too?"

"Yeah, I was."

"Fuckin’ cheater dude." That earns him a few laughs behind the camera.

“How does it feel having a stranger in your bed?” You ask. Dominic tilts his head in thought. 

“Well, it’s not too weird. I used to have random women in here all the time.” 

He then grabs hold of the mic and stares dead into the camera. “Not anymore though. Completely abstinent. Not fucking. Stop having sex. I’m talking to you. The one watching me say this while probably planning on having sex later.” You stare at him and press your lips together, letting the silence after his proclamation linger in the air. 

“And how’s that been going for you?” 

“You know, it’s been well. I’ve stopped a lot of crazy shit recently. Stopped smoking, stopped drugs. Stopped drinking more than 4 cups of coffee a day.” 

“How do you like your coffee.” 

“Black. I hate that creamer shit.” 

“You know it’s reported that some of the most known serial killers drank their coffee black and were Capricorns?” Dom’s eyebrows raise. 

“Oh fuck, really?” 

“No, I made it up. But you feel a little crazy now don’t you?” Dominic drops his head and starts laughing, the staff right along with him. 

“What’s your sign?” He asks once he gathers himself. 

“Cancer.” 

“Ah, that makes sense. You probably have a mommy kink or some shit huh?” You look at him in disbelief and suck your teeth when your staff betrays you with giggles. 

“I do not–” 

“Momm–.” 

“Dominic.” You warn, glaring at him. He bursts out laughing, and you can’t help the scoff you let out. 

“You know, they do say that Capricorns and Cancers are the mom and dad of the zodiac.” You try to reason.

“You’re the mom right?” He asks. You squint your eyes at him and dig around the space between you two. He’s simpering at you, trying to prove his mommy kink bit.

“I lied, I'm a Leo.”

“No, you’re not.” 

“I know.” You pull out a little knitted beanie baby from the blankets. It wears the hat Dominic had on during Coachella. “A fan made this for you right?” 

“Yes, she did! Isn’t it sick?” 

“It is. How does it feel having some of the most creative fans there is out there?” 

Dominic looks between you, and the plush, then reaches his hand out for it. “You know, it's almost surreal. This fame shit kinda came out of nowhere for me, so there was a huge adjustment period I went through when it came to people supporting me and giving me things they put so much time into.” 

You nod, letting him continue.

“I think I’m still adjusting to it really, but nothing brings me more joy than like seeing this stuff you know? I love my fans, and I’d be nothing without them.” 

“It seems they love you back just as much, if not more.” Dom grins and nods, “Yeah, I’d say so. They’re so fucking creative.” 

“Have you read your fanfics?” 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“Because I have one right here we can—” You stop mid-sentence and pull out your phone. 

“Are you serious?” He looks at the camera as if he was Jim from The Office when you ignore him, and begin typing with urgency.

“This is the most excited I’ve seen you since this started.” 

You ignore his comment and hand him your phone with a fic pulled up. 

“Read this.”

“Yo, do you read these yourself? You found this way too fast.”

“I found this one last night. Now read.” 

It’s a Tumblr story you saved for this very moment, and you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity. 

“Smut? What’s smut?” He looks at you for an answer, but you just gesture your hands toward the phone for him to keep reading. 

It’s silent for a few, and you signal your cameraman to zoom in on Dominic’s face. 

You watch as his face morphs into confusion, then surprise, then what you assume is mild interest, before he’s pulling the phone back and his eyes are blown wide. 

“Holy fucking shit y’all write porn about me?” The crew erupts into laughter, and you tuck your lips in to avoid laughing too. 

“Smut.” You say. 

Dominic glances from you, back to the phone. 

“Why am I kinda turned on by this.” 

“Because I wrote it.” 

Dominic whips his head towards you, and his mouth drops.

“Wait really?” You don’t respond, reaching down to the floor and pulling up a box of Reese’s Puffs cereal. 

“Reese’s?” You ask, dropping a handful into your mouth and holding the box out to him. 

“Where did you—” Dominic keeps the same shocked expression and turns back towards the camera. The cameraman starts to laugh again and zooms in on his face. 

“When did you—” He stops, watching you chew with mild interest to his confusion. So he presses his lips together, clicks your phone off, and folds his hands together over his lap. 

“Yeah, let me get some.” You wordlessly lean over and Dominic tilts his head back so you can shake some cereal from the box into his mouth. 

“Good?” You ask while chewing. 

“Yeah.” He nods. Silence ensues while you both continue to chew while staring at each other. Then at the same time, you turn to the camera with monotone expressions. It’s unplanned, and the crew let out chuckles once again. 

“So how was touring?” You swallow, and reach down towards the floor again, pulling up two bowls with spoons in them. Dom’s learned not to question you anymore at this point, and just accepts a bowl. 

“It was fucking fun dude. I wasn’t expecting everyone to know the words of my album for the first few dates since I toured a solid week after the release.” 

“Resse’s, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, or Lucky Charms?” 

“Cinnamon Toast Crunch.” 

You pull up that box, and pour some into his bowl, then yours. “It must have felt incredible to hear them yelling it back to you. Did it?” 

“Oh man, I don’t think that’s something I’ll ever get used to. A lot of my songs are me just fucking around and making stuff that people can dance to you know?” You nod, and bring up a jug of milk, filling up your bowl, then Dom’s.

“So when I’m performing, it kinda feels like me and my fans are just kicking shit up. I’m dancing, they're dancing, it feels good. It’s fun. Whatever’s bothering them can just be forgotten for a bit.” He takes a spoonful of cereal to his lips and hums around his spoon. 

“I was at one of your shows, the LA one. And what I noticed was that your energy on stage is unbelievable.” You press your cereal down into the milk with your spoon, before continuing. 

“Like, you look so youthful, and just in your element up there. You bring such an intense and loving energy to every show and I strangely found myself missing you when it was all over and I’d never even formally met you until now.” 

It’s silent for a moment, Dominic soaking up your words while you begin eating. 

“Was that your way of confessing? Are we like gonna kiss now?” 

You roll your eyes and your crew giggles. 

“No, but seriously, thank you. That means the world, especially when like I said before I’m still adjusting to this shit.” 

“Well for what it’s worth, I think you’re navigating through all this perfectly. It’s why I became a fan in the first place. Your talent is unique to you and only you. And I mean it when I say talent like that only comes once in a lifetime.”

You point your spoon at him, “I’m sure I can speak for all of us when I say we’re beyond lucky to experience you and all your greatness in our lifetime.” You give him a big smile. 

Dominic stares at you, and you can’t read his expression but you also don’t look for too long. Opting to look into your cereal bowl, because you could feel the love-sick look that was about to show on your face.

“You’re too good at this sentimental shit dude, what the fuck.” His voice sounds a bit choked up, so you try to lighten the mood. 

“Don’t start crying on here or I’ll be forced to use it as my thumbnail for views.” The staff comes to your aid with laughter, and Dominic joins in. 

“You wouldn’t do that.” He goes to wipe his face with his shirt but is met with silence and your face back to its deadpan. He looks between you and the staff, then the camera. He speaks a little unsure, his voice going up a pitch.

“Right?”

You fully break character and full-on laugh. Unable to keep up your act with him. 

The podcast continues for a bit longer before you bring it to a close. 

“Is there anything else you’d like to say before I take a nap in your bed?” The cameraman zooms in on Dominic. 

“Um, thank you for having me. This was easily my favorite interview I’ve done. The cereal was great.” he laughs and holds up the bowl. “To my fans, I love you all so much, thank you for always showing out for me.” 

“Please continue to love my album, and stay tuned for what’s to come.” Someone behind the camera whistles, and everyone begins clapping.

The camera zooms out and shows you staring at Dom with the expression you feared the most. You’re looking at him with a dopey smile, cheek resting against the palm of your hand. 

One of the staff calls out your name, and you blink, jumping up and looking at the camera, then back at Dom who’s looking at you with a shit-eating grin. 

“Oh my god, were you falling in love with me just now?” 

“No, what.” You scoff, looking around like he’s crazy. 

“Holy shit, you were totally falling in love with me!” He laughs while moving up and pointing at you excitedly. The staff once again, betray you and join Dom. You mutter curses and pull back the blankets, stumbling off the bed and speed-walking away. The camera follows you, as you go behind the staff and all the equipment.

“Wait, I’m sorry!” Dominic’s still laughing, hopping up and following after you.

“Let me take you out to dinner, I’m sorry!” He calls, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and slinging himself over you, while you cover your face and groan. 

The camera follows you both all the way out until you turned the corner. Laughs still loud and boisterous on the set. 

[galactic-space]

“What if danny went feral on dash” “what if Danny absolutely scares dash” “what if-“

Ok… I love that, but imagine Danny no longer can afford to care about dash or any of his gang because he’s more afraid of being fucking killed by a crazy villain or something?

Like Danny is walking though school after a crazy intense scene, only to be shoulder bumped by dash followed by “watch where you are fenturd”

Like yea Danny would totally go around and have a locker open right at dashes face, but it’s just a small comedic moment to lighten the dark mood with Danny.

Like you see how Danny- nor the narrative- focuses on dash and Danny’s “bully and bullied” relationship because that’s no longer on Danny’s mind. Dash has no room for him, and it’s only after a bunch of episodes later does dash actually confront Danny about his weird…. Weird bs.

Cuz dash is THE MAN. Fenton is his favorite punching bag, but it’s hard to punch a bag that seems to be already dealing with another asshole pushing him around ( though who? Dash could only guess )

Only to be blown off by danny because dammit dash not now I’m in the middle of something

And we see how dash realizes that he’s no longer scary. Fenton isn’t scared of him anymore and he hates that. Cuz what on gods green earth has Fenton all high n mighty with his bs? Bullshit

So of Course dash tries to teach Danny a lesson

And only THEN does the “Danny scaring dash” comes in.

Cuz dash tried to swing, Danny dodged and had to literally grab him close and spell it out to him to leave me alone

And fuck, dash wouldn’t care if it wasn’t for the intense look in fentons eyes. That’s the look of someone who’s going though it right now

Maybe dash tries to double down, but Danny won’t let him

In the end, dash needs to step away, cuz it ain’t gonna end good for him if he doesn’t

But that doesn’t mean he’s gonna give up. Cuz now he’s curious.

What the fuck has gotten Fenton all tied up in a twist, huh?

There, we now have a small dash arc or something idk

TLDR: Hes basically having to fight for his time on screen because dash is no longer important to the story and he’s becoming aware of how he’s slowly being phased out, and wants back in

[lovesickonmybed]

crazy fuckin' phenomenon | 18+

masterlist | info about palestine | donate to gaza

pairing | dbf!joel miller x reader

synopsis | after your dad abandons joel to watch instagram reels in the bathroom, an argument over the remote ends in a new discovery

warnings | excessive use of bigfoot as a plot device, dbf!joel, explicit sexual content, smut, age gap (20s/late 30s), play fighting with sexual tension, wedgies, humiliation, degradation, kink discovery, semi brat tamer!joel, almost getting caught, blue balls

word count | 2030

a/n | this was co-written with one of my favorite people ever but they wish to remain anonymous! this was so so so fun to work on and i think it really shows. i urge you to not buy any of the last of us games, including the remaster as the creator, neil druckmann is a zionist. the second game is based off of the israeli occupation in palestine and you can learn more about that here.

“Joel I swear to fucking god if I have to watch one more episode of Finding Bigfoot, I’m clawing my eyes out.”

There’s only so much bickering between Matt Moneymaker and Ranae Holland that you can take, and apparently, you’ve found your limit. Approximately five minutes. Joel had come over to hang out with your father, they had planned to watch some war movie because they’re fucking old, but, in typical dad fashion, your father had gotten up halfway through to use the bathroom. After 30 minutes, Joel couldn’t wait anymore and switched the TV to Animal Planet so he could watch Finding Bigfoot reruns. That was two hours ago, and you’ve now spent an hour on the couch with Joel, pleading for him to change it. Of course, your TV decides to stop working the one time your dad actually wants to use the living room TV. So, yeah, you can be a little bit of a drama queen.

“If you can drag your old man off ‘a the shitter, we can go back to watchin’ Come and See. Three fuckin’ hours, startin’ to think he pulled an Elvis.”

“Seriously, Joel,” you bellyache, slumping back into the couch. “Dunno why they’re looking for Bigfoot when he’s clearly right fucking here.” You shoot him a glare from across the couch.

“Uh huh,” Joel drones, either not listening or either not giving a fuck while he watches one of the camouflaged hosts do a shitty imitation of a sasquatch mating call.

Well, since he’s distracted…

With the stealth of a super spy, you lunge over Joel’s lap towards the side table, reaching past discarded beer bottles and hunting magazines for the hijacked remote. You snatch it right up, victorious for a few seconds at most.

“Now what in the hell do you think you’re doin’? Gonna put on fuckin’ Euphoria or something?” You don’t have time to come up with a witty response before you’re pinned down to the couch cushions. Joel’s hulking form hangs over you, shoulders broad and his hair messy as he gives you a smug look. Cursing the cavewoman part of you that gets butterflies in your stomach from how easily he overpowers you, you writhe underneath him.

“Joel what the fuck? Get off me you old fuck!” You groan, grunting in frustration as you try to maneuver Joel off of you. You’re weak as shit but you remember something from the self defense class you took in high school. You knee Joel in the chest, causing him to fall back, giving you a chance to roll off the couch and onto your knees. You look back as he coughs and gasps, trying to catch his breath. 

“Oh you little shit!” Joel groans, getting off the couch and looming over you like a killer in a slasher fic. He smirks down at you, tilting his head to the side like Micheal Myers.

You feel your heart start to race and your cunt start to pulse. You turn back and start to crawl away but Joel leans down and grabs your ankle, pulling you back to him. You definitely feel like you’re in a slasher film now. 

“Oh sweetheart, you’re not gettin’ away that easily…needa stop acting like such a little brat. Your daddy was never that good at discipline.”

You don’t know what you’re expecting. But Joel’s warm hands sneaking down the waistband of your denim cutoffs is not it. You cry out as his fingers loop around your purple thong, drawing it midway up your back. Pain sears up your ass, and much more dangerous, pleasure tingles in your cunt when the front of your thong slips between your folds. Kicking your legs, you smack your palm into the carpet underneath you. “Joel!” you gasp out in surprise.

Maddeningly, Joel chuckles at your struggle underneath him. He shifts to straddle your upper thighs, weighing you down even more. “What, ain’t ever had a wedgie before?” Another sharp tug makes your head drop to the floor. You fight not to give into your body’s base desire to arch your back. “With how often you run your mouth, I’m surprised your friends never ran you up the flagpole in the schoolyard.”

You scrunch your fingers in the fiber of the carpet, trying to anchor yourself to anything other than the searing pain in your ass and cunt. It doesn’t work. You can’t focus on anything but this cruel and unusual punishment. Your dad’s best friend, wedgieing you into obedience.

Somehow, he pulls even harder. All of that contracting work isn’t for nothing. You’re silently moaning now, mouth open and your forehead dipped to the floor, desperate pants flying in and out of your mouth. “Hmmm,” he hums. “Wonder if I could get these over your head. Bet you’d have an easier time watchin’ my show with that.”

“Please,” you rasp. Your brain wants you to beg for him to let you go. Your cunt wants you to beg for him to be meaner. To go all the way and snap them over your head, leaving you ass up and face down, split in half for his enjoyment. You short circuit before you can get any further into the plea, because he’s pulling your panties even higher in brutal bursts.

“Begging ain’t gonna help, honey. You’ve made your bed, now lie in it.”

The waistband gets halfway up your neck before Joel gives up. The tension in your body lessons as you melt into the floor. “You ain’t off the hook yet, missy,” Joel says, smirk evident in his voice.

He guides your arms through the leg holes of your panties, and you moan helplessly as he snaps them over your shoulders, leaving you in the equivalent of a wedgie bodysuit. You feel like you’re being split in half.

You can’t help it. You roll your hips, grinding into your panties and the floor. The pressure is everywhere and it’s perfect. Perfect against your burning asshole, your leaking cunt, and your throbbing clit. Every movement also propels you up against Joel, something you can’t even bring yourself to remember right now. You’re wet – unbelievably fucking wet. “What the hell are you doing to me?” you whine, still humping the floor as heat blossoms in your core.

Joel stiffens above you. “Are you…” He clears his throat, a rough noise. “Are you fuckin’ into this?”

The question alone makes you whimper.

Every rock of your hips has the wedgie slicing deeper, pulling you apart piece by piece from your most sensitive place. You arch your back properly, that way every time you go up, you can feel Joel’s bulge against your rear. Joel’s quickly hardening bulge as he watches you lose all of your dignity while humping the floor with your panties rammed up your ass.

“Shut the fuck up, Joel! I’m not into this…I just-” He cuts you off by flicking the string of your thong. Tellingly, you moan out.

“Just what? Just get off on getting split in half by your fuckin’ panties?”

You try to speak but he shoves you forward, pressing your face against the carpet and pinning you down, “Just shut your mouth, don’t want your daddy findin’ ya like this do ya? God, just imagine what he’d say…. Seein’ his precious ‘lil girl gettin’ all wet from a well-deserved wedgie up these plump fuckin’ cheeks.” His hand glides down between your ass cheeks and slaps against your denim-covered bottom. You jolt, moaning where he’s pressing your face into the carpet. You’ll be surprised if your drool isn’t soaking it.

“Joooooel,” you pout, still fighting underneath him. You kick your feet, and they barely graze the small of Joel’s back, a sort of flexibility you can’t afford very much of right now. “Can’t… can’t take much more. Hurts.”

“I’ll tell you what you can take, you little brat. You’re lucky you’re not hangin’ up by these,” Joel grabs the waistband of your light wash denim shorts, using it to lift you up off the floor while you grasp at the carpet in a poor attempt to stay on the ground. 

It doesn’t work. Joel hauls you up, grabbing the front and back of your wedgie. You can’t stop yourself from moaning again, dimly away that your dad is still in the bathroom and still could walk out at any given time. You hope Joel’s good ear can hear if the toilet flushes, because you can’t hear a damn thing over your own pulse rocketing in your ears.

He yanks the back of your thong, and then the front, effectively flossing your ass crack and cunt. Your hands fly down to your thighs, but it’s not like you can do anything, because the next thing Joel does is lift you fully off the ground. You cry out, hastily clamping a hand over your mouth, and decide three things back to back to back.

One – fuck Joel Miller.

Two – fuck Joel Miller.

Three – you might actually really like this.

The third one you realize when you look down to see your arousal seeping through the denim. The humiliation stings on your cheeks with a sort of heat you’ve never felt in your life. He bounces you in the damn thing, pulling you up and down with a strength you’d never fathomed he could have.

You can’t stop yourself from grinding down when he brings you up, pulling your panties even deeper into your ass and cunt. You whine and grab at Joel’s forearm for purchase, nearly fucking yourself against the thin fabric that’s cutting you in half. Joel’s satisfaction at it all, the way you can feel him getting sadistically hard behind you from your cocktail of pain and pleasure, is what truly makes it for you. You buck against your panties even harder, letting out a truly ragged moan when it brushes your clit just right.

“You’re taking this so good, ain’t even cryin’ or nothin’. Should I hang you up? Get your eyes just as wet as your cunt? Could you even take it, or are you gonna cream your pretty little panties before I even get you on a hook?”

The answer is yes – you are going to cream your panties before he gets you on a hook.

Your orgasm rips through you violently, lighting you on fire as you hang in suspension and just take it. Ass burning and your cunt dripping like Niagara Falls, you clench and grind on your panties as desperately as you can to prolong your orgasm. Your eyes water, heart beating out of control. Joel’s hand cups your mound, heel rubbing against where your clit pulses. You’re still tremoring by the time you come down. Everything feels like it’s in technicolor, easily marking the most powerful orgasm of your life.

You realize Joel has deposited you back on the ground. It’s a miracle you’re even standing at all with how limp-boned you are. Chest rising and falling, you stumble back around to face Joel, whose cock is straining against his jeans. You’re about to put him out of his misery, not even taking the time to pick your wedgie as your hand flies towards his belt when you hear it –

Wooooooooshgluglgulglug.

You take your wedgie out like you’re racing to get rid of a ticking time bomb, frantically yanking it down your shoulders and tucking the strings into your waistband. Still burning up from your orgasm, blatantly freshly fucked, you give Joel a half-apologetic look (he had given you a hellish wedgie, after all) and scamper upstairs.

You barely acknowledge your dad as you brush past him. “Hey sweetie, goin’ back up?”

“Mhm,” you get out, almost tripping up the stairs.

“Hm, wonder what’s wrong with her,” you hear your dad reflect to Joel.

“No idea,” Joel says.

You’re about to close your door when you hear more commentary from downstairs. Your dad’s voice. “Woah there, man. Got a thing for bigfoot?”

Your eyebrows shoot to your goddamn hairline as your heartbeat spikes and your brain fills in the gaps.

“Fear boners, crazy fuckin’ phenomenon,” Joel says, just as casual as ever. Yeah. Crazy fucking phenomenon is right.