#Malcom gallant

[xrag-dollx]

-What the AHS Evans- -------wear in bed-------

Tate:

• shirt of his favourite band and a messy pair of sleeping pants, you can expect them to be all gross and worn out

• he never ever cared abt cleaning the clothes at least once a week so he basically wears the same sleeping clothes like 365 days a year

• thinks bc he's a ghost nobody would ever care

• when he isn't around you, you exchange the clothes and make sure he's having new sleeping clothes bc the smell really annoys you when you're in bed with him

• is actually thankful that you're exchanging his clothes ❤

Kit:

• sleeps in pyjamas during wintertime but prefers to sleep in speedos and a top in summer

• exchanges his clothes at least every week but during summer like every 2nd day (bc u both are a hot mess during the night 😏)

• he mostly keeps track on having new clothes but when his week was too stressful he might forget about it

• so you carefully put his new clothes on his bedside and he always comes around you and thanks you with a kiss on your cheek ❤

Kyle (frankenkyle):

• is wearing the cutest pj's on earth

• like the ones which make u look like a dinosaur or a tiger

• could wear pj's 24/7

• you always need to remind him that he can't go out in his dinosaur pyjamas

• is crying for 15 mins

• you convince him to get a new pyjama if he gets out of his current one just to go out in his normal clothes

• when you see Kyle yawning or sneezing in his dinosaur pyjamas it literally makes your heart melt in cuteness

Jimmy:

• likes shorts and a top in summer and a pyjama in winter

• when he's getting drunk he falls asleep in his actual clothes bc yea why not

• normal clothes = most comfortable clothes

James:

• darn expensive silk pyjamas

• but in summer he'd prefer something like boxers and a top

• exchanges his sleeping clothes like every 2nd day bc he's a hoe for tidiness

• doesn't need to care abt changing the old clothes himself at all, Ms. Evers takes care of it (as for everything else)

Rory:

• loves to sleep naked (and loves to walk around naked at home bc why not)

• in wintertime he's pretty okay by wearing a shirt and some long sleeping pants

Kai:

• he's basic af so just a shirt and shorts (in summer probably shirtless)

• never really exchanges the sleeping clothes unless winter is doing it (bc she's a good lil sissy)

• has to care abt more important shit than sleeping clothes

• does he even sleep at all???

• I guess not, too busy on taking world domination

Mr. Gallant:

• is never underdressed, not even while sleeping

• prefers to sleep in fancy pyjamas bc he thinks when he sleeps without anything on he feels gross

• wears nothing else than Gucci and Versace pyjamas

• goes shopping like every weekend to get some new ones (bc his nana has the cash 💸)

Austin:

• could never go without his silk robes and pyjamas

• has a favourite store in paris so when he's on vacation he gets TONS of new ones

•basically lives off this shit

•they are like his 2nd skin

• likes to brag and shows it to EVERYONE

• when he's got a new writing idea he runs downstairs so his long robe is hovering dramatically over the stairs (thinks it looks freakin cool while doing this)

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Tags: @fear-is-truth @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @trueangel420 @lacucarachapisser @evanpeterspeter

[langdonss]

@jazz-berry this shit took me out

[themuselesswriter]

American Horror Story Thoughts

I did a whole thing about it, so enjoy suffering through my ranking and favorites.

[repomyheart]

Changed the theme for spooky reasons and also because this photo of Mr Gallant 🙏

[zombiefied-frat-boy]

the answer to that is yes

[sometimescherwrites]

Best Day

Malcolm Gallant x male!reader

word count: 1.15k

content: smut, gay, fluffy smut, reader is down BAD for Malcolm, no actual penetration just dry humping and grinding, soft dom reader, morning sex, multiple and repeated descriptions of drowning as a metaphor for love bc i’m queer and can’t be normal about metaphors for love

MDNI with this one

day seven of cher’s conversation hearts series!!

a/n: never actually written smut before so give me some grace, this was meant to be fluff but i lacked the self restraint for that, was also written within the span of an hour while sick

He’s having the best day. That’s the resolution you’ve come up with as you lay in bed, your boyfriend snoring peacefully next to you.

You know he’s had it… rough, in the love department. Especially with the repeated and unwanted interference of his nana. And as such a fan of Valentine’s Day, you take it as a personal affront when Malcolm reveals that he’s never had a good Valentine’s Day.

Another soft snore directs your attention to him and for a moment all you can do is stare. He’s gorgeous like this, platinum blond hair messy, face peaceful and painted with the soft light of dawn. A wave of affection so strong it leaves you breathless washes over you.

There’s a faint memory you have of when you were young. You’d been at the beach, whether with your own family or a friend’s you couldn’t remember, but you’d gone out a little further than you should’ve, and a wave had knocked you down. Before you’d been able to get up, another wave had pinned you down. Then another, and another, and another, until you’d felt for sure that you were going to drown, though evidently you hadn’t.

In moments like this, being with Malcolm made you feel exactly like you had back in the ocean. Your love for him was overwhelming in the best of ways, wave after wave of pure unadulterated affection knocking you down until your lungs filled and burst with it and you drowned a thousand little deaths.

When you’d first fallen for him, you’d been so caught off guard that you’d fought it. You’d kicked and screamed but the force of that love had pinned you down until you couldn’t fight it anymore. It had forced its way into you. Into your lungs, into your heart, into your very being until you gave up on the silly notion that there could ever be anyone for you but your Mal.

Which brought you back to now, eyes tracing over your sleeping lover’s face. And further, brought your back to your resolution. You would move heaven, hell, and earth if you had to to make sure he had the best day, because he deserved nothing less.

By the time he starts to stir, you’ve already planned the entire day out in your head- not that you hadn’t already had your ideas. But they were cemented now.

You’re going to make him breakfast- both out of love and out of the fact that he can’t cook. Then you’re going out, though it’s undeniable that he makes more than you, you intend on treating him today anyways. A wine tasting has been booked for lunch- wine may not be your favorite, but it is one of his, and you can suck it up for love. Beyond that reservations have already been made at his favorite restaurant for dinner.

Dressing up to show him off in the way he deserves combined with the intimacy of a day planned and catered just for the two of you… he’s going to have the best day, and he is going to feel so loved, you’ll make sure of it.

Of course, you’ve got a little time before you need to get up for breakfast…

Within seconds of his eyes opening, your lips are on his. There’s not even a moment of surprise before he’s kissing back, groaning softly.

With the kind of ease that comes only from familiarity, your tongue slides into his mouth, lazily re-mapping the cavern that’s already so devastatingly familiar to you. The only thing on your mind is Malcolm, he clouds your senses in such a way that you’re drowning all over again.

And you would drown in him. If you had it your way, you’d suffocate yourself like this, content to never breathe again if the last thing you ever did was kiss your lover.

But unfortunately, your lover does need to breathe, and so therefore he pulls away. Bullshit in it’s finest form.

While he breathes, you busy yourself with his jawline- god that jaw of his. Although restraint is rarely something you indulge in with him, you manage to avoid leaving any marks.

To love someone is to know he would rather saw his arm off with a butter knife than wear a turtleneck on Valentine’s Day, after all.

So with great restraint, you move down his neck, lingering on the skin of his Adam’s apple- now that gets a wonderful noise out of him. You have every intention of kissing down his chest and abdomen where you can finally afford to be careless, knowing that whatever he wears will cover it, but much to your dismay, Malcolm has other plans.

He tugs you back up to eye level by your hair, prompting an unfortunately low and needy groan to tear from your chest. Immediately you’re leaning back towards his lips, but he stops you with a finger to your own.

Looking him dead in the eyes, you unabashedly suck the digit into your mouth, eyes fluttering slightly as you wrap your tongue around it. A breathy ‘jesus fuck’ falls from his lips, and before you can even begin to process how turned on you are, your hips are rocking against his.

The sound he makes is sin itself, in all it’s unholy glory, and you’re sure you’d get sent straight to hell just from the luxury of hearing it.

The thought of stopping the divine friction you get from just grinding against the bulge in his pajamas is devastating in the worst of ways, even if it’s just to get said pants off, so you toss that idea aside immediately.

Every moan and groan that tumbles from his lips only serves to make you greedier for more. You need him. Fuck, you need him.

You’re drowning again. He’s flooding your every sense. Your sight, your smell, your ears, your taste, your touch- oh god you’re drowning.

You’re practically panting into his mouth, grunting and groaning with each frantic rock of your hips. The rhythm you’d previously found isn’t doing it for you anymore. You need more.

You feel him stiffen and the most delicious sound you’ve ever had the honor of hearing falls from his lips before his eyes roll back, and you can feel the heat of his release through his pants, and your boxers and-

It’s all over for you. You never stood a chance against it. Your hips stutter a final time before your lungs burst and you’ve drowned again.

Neither of you say anything for a long while, just basking in the afterglow until the fabric of your boxers starts to become more uncomfortable with every passing minute.

You groan, mentally preparing yourself to leave your lover’s embrace, even if it’s just to go to the bathroom for a towel.

Its Malcolm who speaks first.

“Good morning to you too, handsome.”

A low chuckle leaves your lips as you agree, “A very good morning.”

[fear-is-truth]

masterlist .ᐟ 𝓪merican 𝓱orror 𝓼tory .

tate langdon kit walker kyle spencer jimmy darling james patrick march rory monahan kai anderson austin sommers malcom gallant

multi characters played by evan

winter anderson

the countess

michael langdon

dandy mott

[mrgallant69]

Rp intro

Name: Mr Gallant, or Malcom.

Age: in his my thirties

Occupation: Hair Stylist (I swear to god if Coco doesn’t pay me more I’ll-)

Dislikes: Nana.

(I DID NOT HAVE SEXUAL RELATIONS WITH THAT MAN, just kidding, I did, possibly, cats out of the bag!)

[b69-library]

⌗ evan peters fanfics recs.

fanfics about evan, the actor.

my favorites. (has all his characters)

american horror story

austin sommers

james patrick march

jeff pfister

jimmy darling

kai anderson — pre-cult!kai anderson

kit walker

kyle spencer — fraken!kyle spencer

malcom gallant

rory monahan

tate langdon — alive!tate langdon

series

colin zabel

drew foster

luke cooper

ralph bohner

movies

jay bahadur

jeff wald

max cooperman

peter maximoff

-> plus: dilf!peter — smut . fluff . angst

warren lipka

my main blog

[yxlxnabxlova]

American Horror Story RP-Request

I am 23, no minors pls, only 18+.

Central Daylight Time.

Looking for a Michael Langdon.

I am semi literate to literate and above.

I prefer BxG and GxG but I am open to BxB

Do I write CxC? Only for doubles and if you could play a canon for my OC.

I have more oc’s if you prefer to play a different canon for me just lmk your character list and I’ll tell you about the different oc’s I have.

Double information below ↓

Hope Bianchi

Born December 21st, 2012

The Second Messiah

Love Interest: Michael Langdon or Mallory (preferably Michael)

Backstory: Hope’s mother was a nun named Margaret in Rome, Italy. She was only 24 years old when had a miraculous pregnancy. At first the people from her convent believed she broke her vows and slept with a man. The Doctors confirmed that Margaret was indeed still a virgin.

Once Hope was born she was raised in the church and they kept her miraculous birth a secret from her. The young child had gifts and eventually catches the attention of The Supreme Cordelia Goode and her coven of witches believing that she was one herself.

Hopes Grandmother, was a witch who attended Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. So, it wasn’t too far off for them to believe that she was a witch herself. That is where she officially meets The Antichrist Michael Langdon. As a child she used to dream of a blonde boy named Michael. She was terrified to learn that he was real.

Who would I play in a double?

Male Characters

•Tate Langdon

•Kai Anderson

•Donovan

•Will Drake

•Malcom Gallant

•Harry Gardner

•James March

•Ben Harmon

•John Lowe

•John Henry Moore

•Tristan Duffy

•Kit Walker

Women Characters

•Mallory

•Cordelia Goode

•Violet Harmon

•Zoe Benson

•Misty Day

•Elizabeth (The Countess)

•Vivien Harmon

•Liz Taylor

•Sister Mary Eunice

•Moira O’Hara

•Montana Duke

•Madison Montgomery

•Nora Montgomery

•Queenie

•Myrtle Snow

•Wilhemina Veneble

•Winter Anderson

•Lana Winters

[lotus-flower-writes-history]

The Unofficial Black History Blog

The Eulogy of Malcolm X

This Eulogy was delivered by Ossie Davis at the funeral of Malcolm X, in the Faith Temple Church of God In Christ in Harlem, on February 27th, 1965.

__

Here - at this final hour, in this quiet place - Harlem has come to bid farewell to one of its brightest hopes -extinguished now, and gone from us forever. For Harlem is where he worked and where he struggled and fought - his home of homes, where his heart was, and where his people are - and it is, therefore, most fitting that we meet once again - in Harlem - to share these last moments with him. For Harlem has never been gracious to those who have loved her, hove fought her, and have defended her honor even to the death.

It is not in the memory of man that is beleaguered, unfortunate, but nonetheless proud community has found a braver, more gallant young champion than this Afro-American who lies before us - unconquered still. I say the word again, as he would want me to : Afro-American Malcom, who was a master, was most meticulous in his use of words. Nobody knew better than he the power of words have over minds of men. Malcolm had stopped being a 'Negro' years ago. It had become too small, too puny, too weak a word for him. Malcolm was bigger than that. Malcolm had become an Afro-American and he wanted - so desperately - that we, that all his people, would become Afro-Americans too.

There are those who will consider it their duty, as friends of the Negro people, to tell us to revile him, to flee, even from the presence of his memory, to save ourselves by writing him out of the history of our turbulent times. Many will ask what Harlem finds to honor in this stormy, controversial and bold young captain - and we will smile. Many will say turn away - away from this man, for he is not a man but a demon, a monster, a subverter and an enemy of the black man - and we will smile. They will say that he is of hate - a fanatic, a racist - who can only bring evil to the cause for which you struggle! And we will answer and say to them : Did you ever talk to brother Malcolm? Did you ever touch him, or have him smile at you? Did you ever really listen to him? Did he ever do a mean thing? Was he ever himself associated with violence or any public disturbance? For if you did you would know him. And if you knew him you would know why we must honor him.

Malcolm was our manhood, our living, black manhood! This was his meaning to his people. And, in honoring him, we honor the best in ourselves. Last year, from Africa, he wrote these words to a friend: 'My journey', he says, 'is almost ended, and I have a much broader scope than when I started out, which I believe will add new life and dimension to our struggle for freedom and honor and dignity in the States. I am writing these things so that you will know for a fact the tremendous sympathy and support we have among the African States for our Human Rights struggle. The main thing is that we keep a United Front wherein our most valuable time and energy will not be wasted fighting each other.' However we may have differed with him - or with each other about him and his value as a man - let his going from us serve only to bring us together, now.

Consigning these mortal remains to earth, the common mother of all, secure in the knowledge that what we place in the ground is no more now a man - but a seed - which, after the winter of our discontent, will come forth again to meet us. And we will know him then for what he was and is - A Prince - our own black shining Prince! -

Who didn't hesitate to die, because he loved us so."

__

Previous

The Tulsa Race Massacre

Next

Clara Hale

__

My Resources

[xrag-dollx]

❤️A list of amazing Evan fic writer ❤️

Thought I'd make a list of (wonderful 🫶) people in the fandom I can highly recommend:

@fear-is-truth

@am3ricanh0rrorwh0re

@trueangel420

@doll3tt33

@evvypeters-fics

@evanpeterswifeyyy

@taintandviolent

@silverzoomies

@marchsfreakshow

@corrodedmilk

@frankenkyle19

@lacucarachapisser (huge re-blogger! ❤️)

@evanchantingpeters

@theswanqu33nsblog

@c-cobweb

@evanpeterspeter

@wherewritersgotodie-blog

@kit-walk3r

@feefymo

@redroses07

@evanpeterswhoresblog

@kaislittlelamb

@whosbloom

(Sorry if I forgot anyone 🙈)

[thehermitsaltar]

Brush of the Lips

Requested by Anon: “Gallant takes Y/N out for a night on the town. Could you work prompt 4 from 50 kisses in there? "An accidental brush of lips following by a pause and going back for another, on purpose." Do you think you could make it a smut fic too?”

From this prompt list. X

Gallant x Male!Reader

Word Count: 2478

A/N: this was sent in and the person accidentally didnt do it on anon and wishes to remain secret so ima answer it like this:). also this turned into a whole ass fic (excuse the smut, i havent written smut in ages.)

The hot California air clung to Y/N like a skin tight suit. Which was mildly miserable considering he was already wearing a normal suit. One that his best friend had made him wear, because on first glance of his choice of clothes Gallant said- “I will not go out to a club with a drab, depressing accountant.” 

So with much fight, Y/N was now currently in one of Gallants more tame outfits. A simple maroon suit with black sequins accenting the lapel, all topped off with a floral shirt underneath. 

He had to admit that he looked pretty dashing in the suit. He was reaffirmed this by Gallant’s simple ‘wow’ upon seeing him. He even thought he saw a small blush creep up Gallant’s neck at the admission but he just blamed it on the summer heat.

Now here they were at one of the most popular clubs in LA. It was amazing how many people were waiting outside to get in. Not that they had to wait, because with one flick of his hand to the bodyguard, Gallant and Y/N were inside and bombarded by music and the smell of sweat.

Before Y/N could even fully process all the people and his surroundings- Gallant grabbed his hand and was pulling him toward the crowded bar. Upon arrival, they were mere inches from each other, before the blonde turned to the handsome bartender and ordered two Appletinis. 

“Gal, I don’t drink fruity drinks.” Y/N had to shout over the music so he could hear him. This made Gallant turn to him with a smirk.

“But darling, fruits are more fun.” 

Both men let out a laugh and soon received their green drinks. Before Y/N could even take a sip from the liquor, Gallant had once again, grabbed him and pulled him away. This time to talk with a group of strangers. They held themselves like celebrities but he didn’t really recognize them so he pegged them as just Gallant’s clients. 

Gallant bounced around the club, talked to many different groups of strangers as the pair progressively got more drunk- thanks to the nice waitress’ continuously bringing them different concoctions of alcohol. But through the whole endeavor Gallant never stopped touching Y/N. Be it an arm around the shoulder, hand on the small of his back or even straight up holding the others hand. Y/N wasn’t able to decipher if they were acts of affection or simply not wanting his friend to get lost. Either way, he savored every touch from the other man and hoped it wouldn’t end.

Finally Gallant pulled Y/N to a near by booth and took a seat with a huff. Unfortunately, there was only room enough for one. So like the drunken gentleman Y/N was, he stood next to the blonde and gently swayed while sipping his drink. 

“Wh-Why aren’t you sitting?” Gallant mumbled out through slurred words.

“Because there's other people here Gal.” Y/N giggled and pointed to the other guests at the booth. None of them seeming to notice the two friends. “I’m okay with standing.” 

Before Y/N’s intoxicated brain could understand what was happening, he was sitting on Gallant’s lap with the others arms wrapped tightly around his waist. It took him a second to realize the man had pulled him into his lap and he hadn’t fallen down.

“Gal, what are you-” 

Before Y/N could finish his sentence, he heard Gallant’s soft voice in his ear. 

“‘M sleepy.” 

“Let’s go home then.” Y/N tried to turn his head to look at him but was met with sweaty blonde hair. The sickly sweet scent of expensive shampoo and Gallant’s natural smell filled his nose. He couldn’t get enough of it.

He couldn’t savor the moment as much as he would have liked before he was on his feet again as fast as he’d been pulled down. 

“I fucking love this song!” 

Was all a drunken Gallant shouted before he was once again pulling Y/N somewhere. This time to the dance floor where all the other people in the club were amassed. 

His head spun from the lights and people dancing around him. It wasn’t unpleasant but he needed to hold onto something to keep from falling flat on his butt. The closest thing was Gallant. He grabbed him by the shoulders and was reciprocated with hands on his hips. 

“I thought you wanted to go home.” Y/N shouted, unaware of how close they really were. Their chests were inches apart like they had been at the bar. 

He couldn’t really focus on their proximity as he stared at the beautiful brown eyes that stared back. He was mesmerized, like he had been by Gallant countless times tonight. His focus shifted to Gallants pink lips as he opened them to say something. His words died in his throat when a random dancer bumped into the blonde, knocking him right into his friend.

Their bodies clashed but thank god Y/N kept them up right. He didn’t know how he didn’t drop, not just from the crash but from Gallant coming close enough to kiss him. Well actually they did briefly brush lips before Gallant steadied himself but didn’t move away. 

The kiss was replaying in Y/N’s head a thousand times already, even though it happened only moments ago. It was awkward and clumsy, barely even a kiss, but he felt his insides turn warm at the contact. He must have looked pretty stunned too by the way Gallant was smirking at him. 

He expected his friend to laugh or make fun of him but the last thing he expected was Gallant leaning in close and pressing their lips together again. 

It felt like a spark of electricity was exchanged between them in those few moments. Y/N couldn’t believe what was happening, he was to stunned to move until he felt the lips on his begin moving. He was quick to melt into the kiss, moving fluidly with Gallant like they had done this before, which technically wasn’t untrue. 

Before he could think, his body was moving for him. He moved his hand’s from  Gallants broad shoulders to his short platinum hair, threading it through his fingers and grasping it tight. 

Unfortunately, to Y/N’s dismay, the kiss came to an end as Gallant pulled back and leaned into his ear. 

“I think I wanna to go home now.” His hot breath fanned over Y/N’s neck and sent a shiver up his spine, one Gallant definitely took note of.

Y/N nodded and for the first time tonight, he was the one to grab Gallant’s hand and dragging him somewhere. He dragged him outside, which was a breath of fresh air compared to the crowded club. He couldn’t focus on that right now as he pulled the other man to a nearby taxi. 

“Where to?” The man behind the wheel asked.

Before Y/N could even mutter a word, Gallant was saying his address.

“Your house? Isn’t your grandma there?”

“She’s in Paris or Italy, I’m not sure, but she's not there to bother us.” Gallant finished his sentence by sliding a hand up Y/N’s thigh and inched closer to his crotch before stopping and pulling away completely. The other man let out a shameless whimper at the loss of contact.

The car ride couldn’t have been more then 10 minutes but it felt like an eternity with Gallants teasing touches. The only good thing about the drive was Y/N realizing he was sobering up exponentially, and it seemed Gallant was too.

They finally arrived to their destination and made their way to the mansion door quickly. Gallant fished the keys out his pocket and when he went to put them to the door, he felt his companion pushing against his back. He let out a shuddered breath as he felt Y/N’s hard cock between their clothes. It made his own cock ache for friction. Once he was able to focus again he pushed the key into the lock and swung the door open, quickly pulling Y/N inside and shutting it.

Gallant grabbed the other man and pushed him against the closest wall, before pushed his thigh right against Y/N’s cock and rubbed it at a rough pace.

“Such a needy boy, huh?” Gallants voice was gravely and low as he eyed the man below him.

“I could say the same thing about you.” Y/N huffed out a laugh before it was replaced with a loud moan as Gallant replaced his thigh with his skilled hand.

“Only bottoms are needy, darling-” He only paused to get closer to the writhing man, before speaking again. “-And it looks like that's you tonight.”

Y/N let out a heavy groan at the blondes words, each one more erotic then the last. He let his head fall back against the wall but was ripped away when Gallant grabbed his suit lapel and smashed their lips together. This kiss was more urgent and flustered then the last. Their need to feel each other growing.

Pretty soon, the maroon sports jacket was ripped off Y/N’s body and thrown to another part of the room. Then came Gallants lavender button up. Once his pale chest was revealed it was all over for Y/N. He pulled way from the kiss to focus his attention on the blondes skin. He was fixated on every bone and muscle in view. His neck was feverishly attacked by Gallant sucking and biting where ever he could reach, sure to leave marks.

His trance was broken by Gallant biting a certain spot on his neck. A moan ripped through him as his nails clawed down Gallants shoulders. He hadn’t meant to do it but god, he needed to do it more. As his rough nails made a trail down the others back, the man in question rutted his hips forward into nothing. 

“Do you like being marked Mr. Gallant?” Y/N teased between heavy breaths.

The man in turn, stopped his biting attack and lifted his head to look Y/N in the eyes. An absolutely feral look on his face and stuttered pants leaving his lips. It made Y/Ns teasing smirk drop and a flushed expression took over. 

“Only by you.” 

That was all the confirmation he needed before he ran his hands up Gallants chest gingerly, before roughly clawing them down to his belt. 

His chest quickly bloomed red splotches from arousal and nail marks. The sight alone almost made Y/N cum in his dress pants. From the sounds he was making, it looked like Gallant was about to cum without even being touched too.

Once his moans and delicious groans stopped, Gallant was quick to pull the other man to the big couch in the center of the living room. Pushing Y/N over the back so he was bent over in front of him. His clothed ass in view for only Gallant.

“I need you.” Was all he said before he started working on his own belt, dropping his pants quickly. 

Y/N in turn worked his own belt and pants off, along with his underwear. Now his bare ass was exposed to the cold air of the house. 

The man behind him let out a low moan and brought a hand over Y/N’s ass, gently cupping the smooth skin. Y/N shuddered at the skin on skin contact. It felt like his first time all over again, gentle and needy. 

He was pulled from his thoughts by Gallant roughly grabbing his shoulders and pulling him back against his chest. A soft hand crept up his side and up to his face as Gallant placed his digits on Y/N’s lips.

“Suck.” 

 Without another word Y/N opened his mouth and slipped the others fingers in. He sucked and lathered while committing the taste to memory. Before long Gallant pulled away and brought his newly wet fingers to Y/N’s ass. 

He made sure to go slow with the prep, not wanting to hurt his partner despite both their desire to be closer. Once Gallant finally felt he was ready, he pulled away completely.

“There should be a bottle of KY in the couch.” 

“What?” 

“I’m not going in dry-”

“Yeah I get that, but the couch?”

All Y/N was met with was a shrug from his partner. Letting out a small chuckle, he bent back over the couch and searched the cushions. Finally he pulled out a small bottle, that looked like it had never been used. He handed it back to Gallant and within an instant he felt him lined up at his hole.

Before he could react he felt Gallants cock slip in with ease. Thank god for prep because he was not small by any means. Once he was finally bottomed out, both men let out deep moans. 

The intensity of Gallant being inside Y/N was almost to much. Feeling every inch of his hard cock filling him to the brim. He tightened around the blonde without thinking and earned himself a hard thrust that took his breath away. Gallant took this as his sign to move and began thrusting at an unforgiving pace. 

Moans echoed through out the empty mansion, along with the sound of skin slapping on skin and the groans from the couch being fucked on. 

Before long Y/N felt his pleasure building. Building from Gallants ruthless cock, building from the strong arm across his chest holding him close, building from his own cock rubbing deliciously on the couch. 

“Gal I’m gonna-” 

Before Y/N could even finish his warning, Gallant was pulling him up from his bent over position. Bringing his back against his exposed chest and his mouth right next to Y/N’s ear. 

“Cum for me.”

Gallants command was all it took before Y/N shot his load onto the pristine couch in front of him. His high only accelerated by the feeling of Gallants hot cum shooting ropes inside him. Y/N’s legs would have given out if Gallant wasn’t still holding him up. 

Once the pair had calmed their ragged breaths Y/N began feeling soft kisses pepper his shoulder, causing a genuine smile to grace his face. He never wanted this moment to end. The feeling of Gallants hand gingerly rubbing his chest and his loving lips on his skin.

“Gal?”

The blonde only hummed out a response, too overwhelmed with bliss to be able to form a coherent response.

“I think I love you.”

Y/N’s words were quiet and he was afraid Gallant hadn’t heard him until he felt the other mans chest rumble with a chuckle.

“I think I love you too."

[danowh0re]

Ahs memes

DONT STEAL WITHOUT PERMISSION

[zombiefied-frat-boy]

alternate version x2

[sometimescherwrites]

Soul Mate

Malcolm Gallant x male!reader

word count: 1k

content: takes place in outpost 3, fluff, minor angst, alcohol, kissing, swearing, reader is down bad for mr gallant, male reader fuck yeah, implied nsfw at the end, written at 1am by a sleepy writer

day three of cher’s conversation hearts series!!

If anybody had told you 10 months ago that you’d have met your soulmate in the nuclear apocalypse, you’d have laughed in their face.

And who could blame you for it? The last thing you’d expected when the bombs had dropped and you’d ended up in the hellish existence of life at Outpost 3 was to fall in love. Much less to fall in love with Malcolm Gallant, an old money hairstylist and socialite, who you were 1000% sure was your other half.

Honestly, you could barely remember what life was like before meeting your bleached blond beau. Sure you remembered life before the apocalypse- you thought about it daily. But remembering its existence and remembering what it was like to live it were two very different things.

Malcolm had been the only good thing to come out of the apocalypse and you’d stand by it. The one light that shone a few feet off brilliance in your otherwise dark and dreary existence.

Every day it’s you and Malcolm. Malcolm and you. And the fact that you have to keep him a secret kills you. But it’s better than the alternative, which has the potential of actually killing you.

“You’re pouting.” Malcolm observes, not looking up as he reaches for some alcohol.

“So? It’s Valentine’s Day and I can’t even hold your damn hand.”

“What, guys can’t be pals anymore? Whatever happened to male friendship?” He jokes, “Come on, hot stuff, it’s Valentines Day- our first Valentine’s Day of the nuclear apocalypse, might I add, with all the cocktails we can dream of. And you haven’t lived until you’ve had a Gallant-tine’s Day.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot.” You grumble, but it’s too late. You’re already fighting back a smile.

He knows your inner mechanics too well, able to dismantle you so easily. It’s almost worrying, in a way. Yet it’s a comfort too, because it’s Malcolm.

“Come on, it’s Valentine’s Day.” He groans dramatically.

“You’ve mentioned.” Your lips twitch briefly before you force them back down.

You refuse to smile when it’s quite literally the fucking apocalypse and you can’t even show off your boyfriend the way he deserves.

“Baaaaabe.” He groans again, coming up behind you, chin resting on your shoulder, “We gotta celebrate- can’t let our first Valentines together be a dull, depressing, disaster.”

“Baby, I love you, but we’re in the goddamn apocalypse. I think we can afford a bit of dull, depressing, disaster.” You chuckle.

“Lies.” He denies, “If anything, we should celebrate it harder- be extra extravagant- fuck it, we might not even get another Valentine’s Day.”

You sigh at that. He has a point.

“You’re so dramatic.” The smile is forming, and this time, you can’t stop it.

“You knew that going in, baby.” Malcolm grins, “No take backs. Warranty has expired.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” You laugh, finally turning around to face him.

There’s a light in his eyes that’s been a lot dimmer these past few months, but it’s back now, even if only for a few moments. “I mean, you’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, well in that case…”

A quick glance around before you’re smushing his face in your hands and pressing a kiss to his nose. Then his cheeks, and his forehead, and his temples, and his chin, and everywhere on his face you can possibly reach. You’re giddy and in love and feeling this at an intensity that only Malcom has ever made you feel.

Malcolm is grinning wide. He’s happy and you’re the cause- and damn if that isn’t enough to fuel you for the rest of the month- no, year. You’re so, incredibly, stupidly gone over him that the only thing you can think to do is kiss the grin off his face.

It’s risky, shit, you know what could happen if you’re caught. But it’s Malcolm. Your Mal. And it’s Valentine’s Day. So you kiss him anyway.

Eventually, reluctantly, he pulls away. He’s breathless and you are too. You did that to him. You’ll be riding that high for days.

No matter how many times you kiss him, you never cease to be amazed at the affect you have on him.

“What’s that for?” He asks, eyes never once straying from your face, cheeks tinged pink.

“Gallant-tines Day?”

Then Malcolm’s laughing. And he’s laughing hard. So you laugh with him, because damn if your beau’s laugh isn’t infectious.

“I love you.” He confesses while he catches his breath.

Your heart swells. He loves you. He really loves you.

“And i love you.” You grin. He always makes you smile, “Even if it is the damn apocalypse. Now let’s have some cocktails, yeah?”

In true Mal fashion, he doesn’t make them half way, and they’re definitely not simple. Who’d’ve known your Mal could’ve worked as a bartender in another life?

He clearly knows what he’s doing, and he’s clearly done it before. Shit, you shouldn’t be finding it hot, but when your boyfriend does things so effortlessly expertly… you’re a red blooded man, who can blame you?

“Goddamn, baby, this is the best damn cocktail I’ve ever had.” You praise, sipping on your glass as you watch him with his own.

“Then you clearly aren’t a practicing alcoholic like the rest of us.”

“Humbleness doesn’t suit you, Mal.” The tease slips from your lips, “Come on, you know you did great.”

“Fine, fine, yes, I’ll admit, I still have it when it comes to cocktails.” He chuckles.

“I’d love to see what else you still have.”

Both of you freeze at the innuendo in your tone before he’s laughing and you’re leading him somewhere private.

Maybe Valentine’s Day in the apocalypse isn’t so bad after all.