#zwowfic

[zwowow]

definitely not the muse i was chasing but ermmmmmm

[zwowow]

Service dom Em is what gets me because like he had his slutty, overcompensating, "I'll fuck anything that walks" years. He's done and seen everything.

Younger Em fucked quick and dirty. There were so many things and so many people to do. He partied hard and fucked harder and everything was going on so so so fast.

Sex was the end goal of every night.

Sex was only a means of release.

Sex was power.

Power he felt deep in the pit of his stomach and at the tips of his curled toes.

Sex was power Em didn't quite understand.

And now he's older, more regimented, in and out of the studio like it's a 9 to 5, the sun rises and sets by his watch type shit. Now, he gets to take his time and take care of his partner.

Because he understands the power.

Dilf Em is so incredible because his partner gives him an outlet to exercise that power and that control we all know he fucking loves to have.

That power that means sex is no longer used as a means of release.

The control that allows him to keep sex from being a distraction.

Sex isn't the end goal anymore. His partner's pleasure is. And that's real power and control, isn't it?

[zwowow]

i would want to see them both very vulnerable, crying during sex, both going through worse time, insecure messes needing each other not trying to top one another for once just craving loved one and making love.

!nsfw!

Colson can’t hold back anymore. He’s been keeping everything so close to himself for so long. Tonight, he hurts too much from everything outside of this to be careful.

His arms draw up and around Marshall’s neck as he thrusts into him.

His legs hook around his hips, locking at the ankle and bracketing the other man completely inside of him.

His limbs burn from the stretch, stifled for so long.

“I love you.” He says airily. Colson’s been trying to catch his breath since the moment Marshall dragged him in for their first kiss months ago. Only now, with those three little words punched out of him, he finally feels air in his lungs. He breathes freely as Em snaps his hips against his with a groan.

Colson rubs his face against Marshall’s beard and licks the shell of his ear and presses his heel into Marshall’s ass to keep him in as deep as possible and knots his fingers so tightly in his hair he feels his scalp lift. Colson does what he wants because he can no longer stop himself.

He’s lost control.

He’s lost the fight.

He’s given up the lead in their little dance.

He’s so tired of pretending he doesn’t want this, want Marshall. Exhausted to the point of madness, he gives in, in spite of whatever consequences will come.

Colson says it again, “I love you.” Because every time he does, it feels like another chain broken. He untethers himself from self-denial and revels in the freedom for a moment.

Only a moment.

Then, in the space left empty between both of their heavy breaths and the lewd slapping of skin, Colson realizes Marshall hasn’t said anything back.

He hasn’t said “I love you”, or “Me too”, or even “I know”. He’s gone silent.

Colson shrinks back in on himself.

His legs fall limply back to the bed, and Em falters in his movements, but doesn’t stop. Colson lays unresponsive, not unlike the sex doll he knows Marshall must see him as.

It surprises him, how good it feels even to be used by the man he loves.

In his last act of freedom, Colson allows himself to cry. The outside feelings he’d been trying to leave behind catch up with him. Marshall’s silence consumes him.

“Colson?” Marshall picks his head up from Colson’s shoulder and looks down at him. His face is red and blotchy. It’s then that Colson notices the wetness on his neck that is distinctly not sweat.

Colson reaches up and swipes his thumb underneath Marshall’s eye. Marshall winces and tries to pull away.

“You good?” He whispers the question around a building sob. Marshall reaches up and tangles their hands together. His own tears hold them together like glue.

“You said you love me.”

Colson nods.

“And you’re serious?”

He nods again.

Whatever cry Colson had been trying to swallow comes out through Marshall. Fat tears plop onto his chest and clean his heart of the shit that’s been weighing Colson down.

“I love you, too.”

Their tears mix at some point, both free and unabashed. Colson comes with his hand still locked onto Marshall’s, and Marshall comes with his hand locked onto Colson’s.

[zwowow]

em let’s kells paint his nails

"Don't fuck this up."

"Then stop fucking moving."

"I'm not moving."

"You are, and that's why I fucked up."

"You already fucked up? Just stop now, I didn't want this shit in the first place."

"Don't be a fuckin' baby. I'm almost done with this hand anyway."

"It's been ten minutes, how the fuck are you not done with one hand."

"You keep moving. I keep fucking up."

"I'm not moving."

"Dude, you totally are."

"I'm not. Whatever... you don't got anything but that bright ass pink?"

"Nope."

"Liar."

"Yep. You love me though."

"Not really."

"Enough to let me paint your nails."

"I'm rethinking that."

"Shut up, I'm almost done with one hand."

"Good, then you can stop."

"If I do your right one too, you can pretend it's a girl jerking you off."

"I'd rather it be you."

"Aw, that's sweet."

"Was it?"

"Nah, but imma take it that way."

"You almost done?"

"Perfection takes time."

"So does fucking up, apparently."

"I only fucked up once. And it was because you moved."

"I didn't fucking move."

"Speak up, Old Man."

"Fuck you."

"I will. And then you'll say thank you for the nails and my dick."

"No the fuck I won't."

"You will. Okay, now give me your other hand."

"... Don't fuck this up."

Colson totally does anyway....

[zwowow]

Em enjoying how feminine Kells can be

wee bit !nsfw!

Bubblegum pink and painted nails, that’s his baby.

“What do you think?” Kells grins as he flashes his nails at Marshall. They’re not painted how men’s usually are. There’s no polish mess on his cuticles and they’ve even got fake tips to add length.

Marshall suppresses a shiver when he thinks of how that beautifully manicured hand will look wrapped around his dick.

He grins back at Kells and nods, “They’re cool.”

“Cool?” Colson scoffs. “They fuckin’ rock.”

Marshall rolls his eyes, but yeah, the nails fuckin’ rock, and so does his boyfriend.

Hair that can be pulled and eyelashes that bat too slow to be real, that’s his baby.

Marshall didn’t really start to pay attention to how long Colson’s hair had gotten until he was giving him head one day, and when Marshall went to grab a fistful of his hair to fuck Colson’s face, he found himself with a handful and then some.

Blonde hair filtered through Marshall’s hand, almost enough to hide his whole hand. Pretty soon, Marshall thought, it’d be enough to pull into a ponytail. Not that shitty ass manbun, but a true ponytail. Knowing Colson, he probably would pull it back like that, too.

He’d pout his lips and bat those lashes, not unlike he was doing then as he lowered and raised his mouth onto Marshall’s cock. And then would come the ponytail. Marshall’s boyfriend would pull a hair tie from his wrist and raise both arms over his head like a chick in a shitty movie, knowingly showing off a strip of skin like the slut he was as he tied his hair back.

Marshall came and imagined holding onto the ponytail while he did.

A boyfriend, a girlfriend, and a fucking bitch all in one, that’s his baby.

Colson is the worst boyfriend Marshall has ever had, and that’s not just because he hasn’t had a ton of them. No, Colson is the worst because he’s an inconsiderate prick sometimes with a victim complex and he always, always, finds a way to pick at exactly what’s bothering Marshall at that particular moment. It drives him crazy.

Sometimes, Marshall just wants to hit him like he would any other guy that was pissing him off that bad. But he doesn’t because he wouldn’t hit his girlfriend.

While Colson is the worst boyfriend, he might be the best girlfriend. He kisses Marshall like he’s never missed anyone as much as him and all but jumps into his arms every time they are reunited. His legs go on forever and wrap infinitely around Marshall’s waist as he fucks him. And best of all, in the same way she can pick out exactly what’s wrong with Marshall to poke fun at him, she can do it to help him feel better, too.

So yeah, Marshall loves his feminine boyfriend, even when he’s being an asshole, but especially when he let’s Marshall have a little upskirt action. That’s his baby.

[zwowow]

Oh hey! It's Eminem's birthday and the last chapter of my pemgk fic is posted. what. a. coincidence. I wonder if those two things are related at all?

Chapter summary: it's Em's birthday, Pete overestimates Kells' jealousy, underestimates how down bad both he and em are for him, and em makes a very sexy birthday wish.

New tags of note: double penetration, excessive kissing

[zwowow]

Hey look! It's chapter 3 of my pemgk fic, You and Me and Him (Us)

rating: E

fic summary: Colson brings his boyfriend Em over to Pete's for a friendly visit, only he's sensing some not explicitly friendly vibes between the two of them.

Or, in the words of tumblr user cosmicbash, who requested Pete getting between Kells and Em... "Em do be pretty cute, and Pete looks like he might be one who puts his foot in his mouth by flirting with people he shouldn't..."

chapter summary: it's the one with the threesome idk

[zwowow]

them getting caught on the kiss cam during a sports game?👀

"Oh, come on." Em rolls his eyes and points at the jumbotron, ignoring the popcorn that spills out of the cup in his hand. His fingers, covered in butter, twitch around the cup.

Kells looks at the screen, then back at Em with a smile. The two of them are on camera with a large pink border around them. Even in baseball caps pulled down to their noses, and Em's usual nondescript clothing, they've been recognized. And thus singled out, and if Em is right, mocked. It's such a fucking joke to put them on the—

"Kiss cam?" Kells' teeth shine brighter than his eyes at the thought of them kissing on the big screen. Em hopes his scowl is enough to make him look unkissable.

Em's buttery fingers slip around the popcorn cup again, but before it falls completely out his grasp, Kells grabs it from under him.

"What, you nervous or something?" Or something, definitely. There are people clapping and yelling at them, and the announcers over the speakers are saying something not about the game, and definitely about the 'unexpected pair' sitting behind first base. It's everything Em didn't want to happen on his and Kells' first outing.

"This is so fucking stupid." Em says, somewhere between a pout and a sneer. Hopefully, they'll be able to wait it out. He's seen it before, the awkward waiting period where a couple, or two strangers ignore the call of the kiss cam, even as it drags on for just over a minute. That minute is starting to feel like an eternity.

"So, you're not going to kiss me in front of tens of thousands of people and all of the Detroit Tigers?" Kells laughs as he places the popcorn back in Em's hand. Em hopes the camera doesn't pick up on the way Kells' pinky strokes over his as he pulls back.

"Abso-fuckin-lutely not." Em looks at Kells, then looks away when his eyes droop with disappointment. Everywhere else he looks, people are looking back at him, expectantly waiting for the kiss. He should tell them to fuck off.

"Oh," Kells starts, and Em has less than a second to look back at him and recognize the mischievous glint in his eyes, "then I'll kiss you."

He barely has time to react before Kells' lips are on his, and Em, left with no other option, lets his eyes flutter closed. He allows himself a moment to forget about their audience, the jumbotron, the popcorn in his hand, the baseball cap that fell off his head before their mouths touched. For just a moment, he allows himself a buttery kiss from his boyfriend.

[zwowow]

just ask

um, @lemon-coke threw a subby Kells pic my way and expected me to Not be inspired to write subby kells? Wack. um chile... anyway, this is far from finished, so um, enjoy pt 1/2 b4 i go to sleep and forget to work on it ever again

Colson needed to be punished. It itched the back of his skull and dragged along his spine, that need. He’d earned it well enough.

From the moment Em picked him up from the studio, he’d been earning it. But Em wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t give Colson what he needed and deserved by just fucking punishing him already.

Colson started by slamming the car door shut, then ignoring Em when he tried to ask about his day. Em caught on right away, Colson could tell by the way his mouth set into a straight line.

He thought it would be easy to get what he wanted then, but Em must have known it was going to be a fight. Not for him, but for Colson.

When they started this, before it became full-time and before Colson realized that Em knew exactly what he needed hours before Colson did, Em made him promise something.

“Promise me…” He started, slow and serious. “Promise that if you need something, you’ll ask for it.” Back then, Colson had thought he meant a blow job, cash, or some other random shit. Back then, he hadn’t ever thought he’d like the punishment part of their dynamic, let alone ask for it.

“I promise.” He’s said back, smiling. He hadn’t known how hard that promise would be to keep.

The words sat on the tip of his tongue the entire ride home. Please tickled the back of his throat and when he coughed, I need to be punished came up with it. But they wouldn’t come out.

Em gave him space once they were back at his place, but Colson didn’t need space. He needed the opposite of space. He needed Em in him and around him and helping him by hurting him. Colson followed him to his office where he was playing music and turned it off, just to see what Em would do.

He only gave Colson an unimpressed look and turned it back on. Colson did it twice more and got a nonresponse each time. Only the look changed; it shifted from unimpressed to concerned to pitying. Em knew why Colson was acting out. He knew and he still didn’t give Colson what he needed.

Colson left the room in a huff. He slammed the door on the way out and hoped that would be the last straw.

He needed to be punished. Em knew that.

Why did he have to ask, then?

And why couldn’t he?

At dinner, Colson didn’t eat a single bite. He wasn’t hungry. Not for food, anyway.

That was breaking another of Em’s rules, and dishonoring his own word again. He was supposed to take care of himself, which meant eating better and getting fucked up less. He’d promised to always, at least, try.

“You’re not going to eat?” Em asked.

“Not hungry.” Colson mumbled from across the table. Em raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. Colson pushed away from the table angrily.

Em’s eyes followed him out of the dining room. Just ask! They screamed.

Don’t make me! Colson shouted from his back.

After he walked away, Colson grabbed a lighter and a joint from one of his bags and went outside. He lit it and took a hit without closing the door he came out of. Em hated that, the smell of weed that would linger around the house for hours.

On his next three hits, Colson blew the smoke straight over the threshold. Puff after puff drafted into the house.

Before he could take another, Em came and stood at the doorway. They looked at each other.

Colson opened his mouth to finally ask, loosened slightly by the weed and exhausted by the game he seemed to be losing even though Em pretended he wasn’t even playing.

When he exhaled the last of his weed, though, the words wafted out, too. Colson’s mouth opened and closed around nothing.

He threw the joint on the ground and walked back inside angrily, making sure to bump Em’s shoulder as he walked past.

Each step up to their bedroom felt like dragging lead uphill. He would never sleep wound up this tightly. He hoped Em wouldn’t let him.

“You know you don’t have to do this.” Em said when Colson bumped him again at their bathroom sink. A slap in the face would have felt better. A soft, dad-like, reminder wasn’t what Colson needed.

“Fuck you.” He spat, toothpaste hit the mirror as he threw his toothbrush down. His hands shook as he wiped them on a towel. The itch from earlier became a heat and the heat became a burn. He was burning from the inside out and Em knew it. Still, he wouldn’t smother the fucking flames.

For the first time that night, Em touched him. Gently, he grabbed Colson’s wrist and brought it back so that his fingertips were half on Em’s skin, and half on the waistband of his sweatpants.

“You can still have it, baby.” Em said from behind him. Colson’s chest contracted. He could get on his knees right now and suck Em off. He could choke himself on his cock and Em would stand there passively, but they both knew that wasn’t what he wanted. That wasn’t what the needed.

“All you gotta do…” Em trailed off when Colson curled his fingers, fisting them into Em’s sweats.

Ask. All he had to do was ask.

Instead, Colson turned around to face Em.

“I’ve been a dick all night.” He reminded around the ball forming in his throat.

Em nodded. “Real fucking asshole.”

“I broke my promise.”

“A few, actually.” Em corrected.

Sometimes, it was easy to ask for what he needed. He could walk right up to Em, bat his eyelashes, and say pretty please like the good boy he so rarely was. Mostly, it was like this. It was a battle, fought mainly against himself.

He tried to convince himself that he didn’t deserve kindness or compassion or a kiss. He only deserved punishment. It was all he ever would deserve.

Colson swallowed and let go of Em. His eyes fell to the floor.

“You can still have it, though.” Em said, and reached out to hold Colson’s cheek. Colson’s shoulders sagged from the instant relief of Em’s touch. “Just ask.”

Em’s hand smelled like their bathroom soap. Colson nuzzled further into his palm and let out a shuddering breath. Everything about him was so comforting. He didn’t deserve it.

“You can have it.” Em repeated and something in Colson broke. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground. From there, he wrapped his arms around Em’s midsection and laid his head against his warm belly.

He breathed in for ten seconds, held it, and then blew out for ten more.

“Please.” He whimpered finally.

[zwowow]

Rated: E

Summary: Colson brings his boyfriend Em over to Pete's for a friendly visit, only he's sensing some not explicitly friendly vibes between the two of them.

Or, in the words of @cosmicbash, who requested Pete getting between Kells and Em, "Em do be pretty cute, and Pete looks like he might be one who puts his foot in his mouth by flirting with people he shouldn't..."

[zwowow]

i adore the way you wrote em’s waist fascination and just to let you know, (nsfw) it made me think of his dick being visible as a bulge in kells’ stomach when they fuck with both of them being very into it; like hands both feeling it as em moves in him 👀

!nsfw! (Part 1)

well now that you've said it I'm definitely thinking about it too 👀👀👀

Em is in awe, no matter how many times he's seen it. When he's fucking Kells while he's on his back, he can't make himself look away. With every thrust in, Kells' belly distends. A snap of his hips creates this tight little mound. That's his fucking dick in there. His cock reaches so deep, and Kells' waist is so small, he can fucking see it in him.

It's the hottest shit he's ever seen and just like his eyes, he can't keep his hands off of it. Trying to keep his rhythm, he lifts his hand from Kells' side and places it on his lower stomach. He can feel himself moving underneath Kells' taught skin. He pulls back until just the tip is in, memorizes the soft, flat body, and pushes back in just to watch his cock create space for itself where there is none.

"Look at it." He growls to Kells as if he can't feel it. It's him that's being fucked, his waist that's thin enough to show it, but Em doesn't want him to just lie back and feel it. He wants Kells to see. To look at the way his dick is pushing the limits of what his body can handle, and to know that he loves taking it anyway.

"You're obsessed with that shit." Kells says like he isn't, but he still looks down to watch. His tone was annoyed, but Em knew the truth. Kells loved watching the bulge as much as he did. Shit, Em is keeping his fingers splayed wide across the bump partly to keep Kells' hand off.

When Kells is on top, he gets to feel it. He rides Em fast and hard and presses down onto Em's dick from the outside as he does. He keeps his hand there and gasps every time he slams his hips back down, or Em bucks up. When he's on top, that little belly bulge they created together is his and his only, he holds it so possessively. And he fucking loves it. He'd slide his hand down and push Em's away now if that didn't mean the next time he was on top, Em would try and take his turn. So he settles for looking at it, and tries to look less interested than he actually is.

It looks like it would hurt. The first time Em noticed it, it had actually sickened him a bit. How was Kells not in pain? It looked like Em was rearranging his guts and not in any way close to being sexy. But Kells loved it. There was no pain, only satisfaction, awe, and a bit of discomforts afterwards.

"I'm close." Em grunts out after a while, not bothering to look up from where he's watching his dick slam into Kells. He never lasts long like this, the bulge makes him feel close to coming the second he has his fingers on it.

They both watch Em's dick as he comes. They see exactly where his cum goes, right underneath the second X of Kells' XXX tattoo. Kells comes a few seconds later and paints milky white on top of it.

X marks the fucking spot I guess.

[zwowow]

You and Me and Him (Us) chapter 4!

rating: E

chapter summary: Back in New York a few months after their threesome, Em, Pete, and Kells go for lunch, and possibly a part two...

[zwowow]

Nsfw of Kells calling Em daddy ❤️

!nsfw!

Colson has swallowed the word many times before, clenched his teeth and pressed his lips together to stop himself from saying the one little bit of dirty talk he wasn’t sure if Em would be down for. 

Daddy.

He’s thought about it when Em pounds him from behind and his heavy balls slaps against his ass with every thrust. And when Em holds him by his hair while he goes down on him, wiping spit from his chin and swiping his thumb over Colson’s jaw like a good daddy would. 

He can’t get it off his fucking mind while Em fucks him like this, face to face with his knees almost to his chin, as he protects Colson from everything but the brutal thrust of his cock into him. 

He feels it swelling behind his teeth. Daddy. 

Em fucks him with one hand supporting himself and the other stroking Colson’s side. Daddy. 

He shuts his eyes and closes his mouth and clenches his hole around Em to keep it in. Daddy. 

“Look at me, baby.” Em groans. 

“Daddy.” His eyes follow a half second behind his mouth in opening. He watches as Em realizes what he said and and stops moving. 

This is why he kept that shit in. He knew Em wouldn’t be into the daddy shit. Colson would close his eyes and turn away from the shame of it all, but to punish himself for being so stupid and let his grip on the word slip, he forces himself to watch Em’s face journey from confusion to revelation, back to confusion, and finally to something unreadable. 

Colson opens his mouth, his stupid ass mouth that can’t be trusted to not freak out his boyfriend, to apologize, but Em cuts him off. 

“Say it again.” 

“I’m s— wait, what?” Colson stares bewildered at Em, whose look of confusion has turned into a sly smile. 

“I said,” Em’s hips start to move again, slowly dragging his cock along Colson’s prostate and then pressing back in, “say it again.” 

“Daddy?” 

“Say it like you mean it, baby.” Em works his way back to the pace they were at before he stopped, and Kells doesn’t need to be told again. 

“Please, Daddy.” He needs it. He needs to be fucked good and well by Em until he’s too boneless to even clean himself up, and his daddy will do it for him. 

“Fuck yeah.” 

“Fuck me, Daddy. I want it so bad.” Colson slips a hand around his dick. 

Em’s smile turns into a full blown grin down at him, “How long you been holdin’ that one back?” 

“Fucking -ah, fuck, months!” Em practically glows when he says that. His thrusts lose their pace a little and Colson knows he’s getting close. 

“Months, Kells? Been waiting to call me daddy for months?” 

He nods eagerly. It’s the truth. For days, weeks, and months, he’s been trying to stop himself from calling Em Daddy. He wants to hit himself for not giving in sooner. 

With his hand on his cock, Em’s deep thrusts, and the taste of his forbidden word finally spoken on his tongue, Colson is euphoric.

“You gonna come?” Em asks, driving his cock into him at a record pace with absolutely no rhythm, but it doesn’t matter because Colson is already that close.

“Yes!” 

“Yes who?” Kells shuts his eyes and prepares for the sucker punch of an orgasm he’s about to have.

“Yes, Daddy!” 

[zwowow]

Em watching as Kells’ fixation with the colour pink progresses.💕

He's certain, positive that Kells wasn't this pink when they started going out. His cheeks, maybe, his lips, only after a night of kissing, but not everywhere. Now, Em can't look at Kells without seeing pink.

His wardrobe changed from black pieces and some weird print to bubblegum right under his nose. It started with the beginning of his whole pop punk pink prince era or whatever the fuck he's up to. Back when it was just a concept Kells was texting furiously about and keeping secret from Em.

Em was skeptical about the color at first. He scoffed when Kells bought a bright pink sweater and started wearing is religiously around the house. He had drank enough pepto bismol when he had bubble guts in his lifetime to not want to he reminded of it every time he saw his boyfriend.

But slowly more and more items that color started to show up, and not just around the house. Going hand in hand with the new era and album Kells was going into, he threw himself fully into the color pink.

Clothes, full outfits of pink appeared in Em's closet and house. There were bubblegum jackets draped over furniture and cotton candy pants left in the bathroom. Kells got into bed with bright pink briefs on one night and Em barely held back a groan. The pink was starting to overwhelm him, but Kells loved it, and he loved Kells, so he kept his mouth shut.

Along with clothes, Kells started to bring objects into his house in that same shocking shade of pink. Kells started bringing that pink guitar everywhere. Pink sunglasses appeared in Em's car. A pink notebook full with scribbled lyrics and pen doodles moved permanently onto their bedside table. Pink was obviously on Kells' mind, so it invaded Em's life.

Kells came to him one day while he was sitting on the couch, and presented a bottle of pink nail polish to him.

"I did my left, but I keep fucking up my right. Do it for me?" He asked.

"You think I'll do any better?" Em answered with his own question, eyebrow rasied. Of course, he'd done Hailie's nails before, but that was over ten years ago, when she was still young enough to need and want her dad's help with playing dress up or looking pretty. He hadn't been good at it then, and he doubts he'd be good now.

Kells' mouth pulled into a small frown, "Nah, never mind. I'll get it." His hands wrapped back around the bottle and Em cringed at the crooked lines and Kells' disappointed face.

"C'mere, I'll do it. Don't get mad if I fuck it up, though." Kells' frown split into a smile as he handed Em the polish and sat down in front on him. Em painted on the pink, taking care to keep inside the lines of Kells' manicured nails. It turned out better than Hailie's ever had. When he finished, Kells thanked him with pink cheeks and kissed Em with pink lips, and his pink painted hands outstretched to the side. Kells was pink as he could be, or so Em thought.

A few weeks ago, though still long since Em had given up on understanding the reason for Kells' obsession and accepted the pink blanket on his life, Kells approached him with a bottle of dye. He asked Em to help him dye his hair, and he couldn't say no. He raked the color gently through Kells' hair, and massaged his scalp even gentler when it came time to wash it out.

When they were done, Kells stood in front of him, light pink from his hair to his nose, and asked him what he thought of it.

Em reached up and twisted a lock of cotton candy pink around his finger, "It's very you." He'd meant it as a compliment, and Kells beamed like he took it as one.

Em doesn't know where the pink came from, or why his boyfriend loves the color so much. He only knows that when Kells shows him his nails, his outfits, his guitar, or his hair, he smiles and tells him how great it looks because Kells' cheeks blush such a beautiful pink it just might be his favorite color, too.

[zwowow]

Kells stealing Em’s clothes to comfort him when they’re apart 🖤

A guy’s gotta have options, alright? If he just steals a hoodie, and it’s fucking hotter than a jalapeño cooch outside, he’s not going to get much use out of it.

Hoodies are good for nights on the bus when someone has the AC set way too cold. On those nights, instead of turning down the air conditioner or grabbing an extra blanket, Colson reaches into his bag and pulls on Em’s hoodie. It’s warm and even though it spends weeks at a time stuffed at the bottom of his bag, still smells enough like Em to lull Colson to sleep in no time.

Hoodies are also good for cool days, where Detroit summer is turning into autumn, or California autumn is turning into winter. Colson shrugs into Em’s sweatshirts on those days and digs his cold hands into the pockets. Sometimes he’ll pull out an old receipt with forgotten lyrics scribbled all on the back. He reads those in Em’s voice and then pulls the sweatshirt close to him, imitating a hug.

But fuck, when it’s hot, a hoodie doesn’t cut it. So, Colson has to steal a few more items. If your definition of a few is enough to dress Em from his stash of stolen items for a week. And he’d only have to wear the same sweats twice.

He has a ton of t-shirts, some that have artists like LL Cool J or NWA on them, a few plain ones, and two wife beaters. Colson doesn’t even wear them all. There’s no way his long ass torso and Em’s tiny ass body are fitting in the same tee. But it’s not about wearing them, sometimes, he just needs to be surrounded by Em. He builds a nest of Em’s clothes in his bunk and tries not to think of the day his little collection will stop smelling like home.

There are more than a few pairs of pants, too. Those are all for fun. Colson slides Em’s sweats on just to see their difference. Where they typically pool at least a few inches at Em’s feet, Colson’s ankles are exposed. Where Em usually has the drawstring, Colson can’t take a step without them falling off, so he adjusts it and wraps the extra string around his finger. All of the inches between both of their sizes helps distract Colson from the insurmountable miles between them.

When Colson comes back from touring, or otherwise being away, he gives Em’s clothes back with a small, embarrassed smile.

Em doesn’t judge him, in fact, he holds up his own hoard of clothing he’s stolen from Colson while he was away and shrugs when they end up in a pile at their feet because Colson can’t resist a kiss for even a second longer.

[zwowow]

Okay! Some nsfw caught having sex again but swapped? Bottom Em walked in on by one of Kells friends? 👉👈

(part 1 here) !nsfw!

Em’s breath hitches in his chest as Kells pushes his knees farther into his chest. He grips Kells by his sweaty back and tries to keep from clawing down it. They’re so close together, Kells is literally inside of him, but he wants more. He always wants more like this. 

They’re fucking on Colson’s bed on sheets they’ve soiled twice already in just the five hours Em has been here. Kells told him the minute they crossed the threshold into his house that they wouldn’t have much time before someone would come home. Whether it was Baze, Rook, or Slim, they only hours to be as loud as they wanted before Em ran the risk of being embarrassed. 

Kells didn’t have a problem with it, there’s nothing the guys could see him doing that they hadn’t already, but he’d led with the warning for Em’s sake. They’d already been caught by Paul a few weeks ago, he really didn’t want to relive the situation with Kells’ friends. 

So they’re making the most of their time alone. Em fucked Kells from behind first. His balls slapped loudly across Kells’ ass with every thrust and they were both moaning obscenely. Em couldn’t have been more glad there was no one in the house at the time. He’s pretty sure the cry he let out when he came could’ve been heard from attic to basement. 

Kells didn’t even give him time to breathe before he was sliding up to Em while he was still trying to catch his breath. His dick was hard even though he’d just come and he practically humped Em’s leg until he finally gave in, or regained enough strength, and jerked him off. That time, it was Kells who was loud as fuck. 

Now, with Kells pounding into him relentlessly, it’s the both of them. 

“Kells. Fuck! Don’t stop.” He pants. His heels dig into the back of Kells’ thighs as he tries his best to pull him deeper. 

“Feel so fucking good, Em. So fucking tight.” Kells keens into Em’s ear. Between his heavy breaths, the slapping of their skin, and their constant rambling, Em must miss the knocking. He’s sure Kells does, seeing as the fucker just keeps fucking him. 

It’s also entirely possible, with the boundaries, or lack thereof, the people lurking around the house have, that there were no knocks to miss. 

All he knows is that one second he’s in a bubble of just him and Kells, getting fucked so good he’s already looking forward to the next round, and babbling about how it feels to be fucked by a dick so long and perfect, and the next he’s making eye contact with one of Kells’ friends through the open door. 

Why the fuck does he always gotta be the one to see the person walking in on them?

“Shit!” He gasps, and drops his legs. Kells, obvlivious, keeps thrusting. The guy in the doorway stands still, wide open eyes looking directly into Em’s. It’s the white guy, the short one, not the bearded one. Rook, he thinks.

“Shit, I’m close too, babe.” Kells moans into Em’s shoulder. Em breaks eye contact with an eyeroll and shoves Kells back by his shoulder. 

Angrily, Em grabs Kells’ jaw and turns his head to look at Rook still standing like a dumbass statue in the doorway, “Nah. Shit, like we just got walked in on... Again.” 

“...Imma just go.” Rook holds his hands up and takes a step back from the door, only reaching out to close it when he’s in a position that he can turn around and get the fuck out of there quickly. 

Em doesn’t know what’s worse, having a staring contest while getting fucked or getting chastised while fucking someone. Getting caught in general fucking sucks. 

“I thought after last time I told you to remember to lock the fuckin’ door.” Em says and reaches a hand up to pinch Kells’ nipple harshly once it’s just the two of them behind a closed door again.

Kells winces and looks away from the doorway, then grins when he looks back down at Em, “I told you last time, it’s sexy being caught.”