#and sometimes a wild stupid ass post gets in my dash and i shake my head and scroll away JAJDJKAJA

[xo8ball]

i got in here after being chronically offline for so long that some posts on here leave me ...😰

[cobwebsaint]

BLEASE DO THE SPIT FIC

AHHHH YES alright obligatory NSFW warning and link to the original if anybody is compelled to leave some sweet kudos or a comment or anything. The garbage stays under the cut for the sake of your eyeballs and your dash.

[Before we even get into the meat of this mf let it be known I was BULLIED into participating in the Slipknot body fluids garbage trend and I still hate it but god was it all downhill from there. Y’all know who you are. Bitch.]

Corey really did have a hard fucking time shutting up, and it almost always got him in some level of shit. After getting the shit kicked out of him at bars and parties and shows approximately three trillion times, you would have thought he’d learned his lesson. 

He did not. 

[I have never spoken a word that was not true. The Corey Taylor gremlin is just an obnoxious big mouthed creecher. He cannot help thise.]

The man had no off button. He knew it, everybody else knew it— it was just something they all had to live with. Jim especially. Jim signed on for this bullshit every single day.

That was his own fault.

[Ah yes, the birthplace of what is now known as the domestic nightmares AU. I promise I’m actually gonna write it. I have a whole sandbox doc. But point is they’re stupid and they’re gross and they’re boyfriends.]

He was off on some godforsaken tangent again about nothing in particular, which Jim had tuned out a good ten minutes ago. Sometimes he felt a little bad about how easy it’d become to turn Corey to white noise, but then he caught something about what Ted Bundy did right or pounding back all the Kool-Aid at Jonestown (“It’s Flavor-Aid, James.”) and decided it wasn’t such a terrible thing after all. Some things were just better left alone. Letting Corey babble while Jim mindlessly twisted his fingers through his curls was a pretty good option in Jim’s book.

Of course, that was all up until Corey inevitably realized he was being ignored and made it a point to get the spotlight back. 

[In which Jim shares the same emotion towards Corey and his Sagittarius center of attention disease as the rest of us.]

Jim shifted away from the finger that was jabbing him hard in the ribs, pulling a face and looking down at Corey who had propped himself up on his chin, laying on Jim’s stomach. “What’d I do this time? Jesus.”

“You better be thinkin’ about something real fuckin’ important.” 

[Bold of him to assume Jim is experiencing thoughts at all tbh.]

“Oh yeah. Daydreaming about the day you’re finally able to sit and shut up for more than ten seconds.”

[Aren’t we all.]

Corey narrowed his eyes, punching Jim in the side, satisfied with the “Ow!” he earned in response. “You fuckin’ prick. You don’t get to complain.”

“I get to complain the most. Nobody else sitting here listening to you talk about the logistics of having a conjoined twin, y’know. I’ve earned that right fair and square, dude.”

“What, you’re telling me you haven’t thought about how you’d—”

“No.”

“Bullshit.”

[Just in case you were wondering, (you probably weren’t) the gremlin is thinking about how you’d fuck with a conjoined twin.]

Jim rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he still couldn’t hide the dumb little smirk that wanted to tug at the corners of his lips. “God, what the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Corey started up again and Jim immediately cut him off, reaching over to clap a hand over his mouth. “Ah! Don’t. Just. Shut up.”

[Jim: asks that question

Corey: starts telling his entire life story for the sixtieth time that week]

Corey batted Jim’s hand away, pushed himself up, crawling in close enough to swing a leg over Jim, straddling his hips. He leaned in, probably half a millimeter from Jim’s face, hands planted at either side of his head, curls cascading down around him. He was still pretty even when he was being a bastard and it was total bullshit. 

[You’re just mad your dick won’t you stay mad at him, James.]

“Make me.” 

Jim snorted a laugh. “Just say you want me to choke you out and be done with it.”

“Nah, that’s you. ‘Sit on my dick and strangle me, it’ll be great.”

“Don’t make me out to be the fuckin’ pervert when you’re the one begging me to step on your balls,” Jim retorted, barely even batting an eye. 

Corey sat up a little, leering down at Jim and running his tongue over his teeth. Eventually he just resigned to it. “Fair. But you’re still gross.”

[Points were made. There ain’t no winning here lbr.]

“Mhm. Right.” Jim reached up, threading a hand messy through Corey’s hair to bring him into a kiss. “You done bitching yet? Can I go back to only kinda hearing the crazy shit that comes out of your mouth again?”

“Hell no,” he said, shaking his head for that extra touch of dramatic emphasis. “Do you even know who you’re talking to? If you weren’t the size of a goddamn skyscraper I’d swear you just crawled out of whatever pit you came from.”

“Maybe I’m dumb, but I’m not that dumb. The great big mouth will never be silenced.” Jim giggled, bringing a knee up to knock Corey over beside him. He rolled over, pinning him down instead. “Y’know, except maybe when you’ve got a dick shoved in your face. Still making noise, but at least you’re not fuckin’ talking.”

Corey got a look on his face like he’d just reinvented the wheel, squinting his eyes up in a shit-eating grin, and Kill Bill sirens started going off in Jim’s head. No. Nope. We are under attack. This couldn’t be anything good. 

“Okay, but just consider— AND HEAR ME OUT, OKAY?” Corey cut in, watching the idea of interrupting him again flicker through Jim’s head. “What about two dicks? I bet I could fit two dicks in my mouth.”

Well. Huh. Maybe that did have Jim some sort of interested. He sat back a little, looking Corey up and down. “…You have my attention.”

“Listen, I know this chick and—” 

Jim had to laugh, ‘cause Corey thinking he was actually gonna share had to be the funniest goddamn thing to happen to him all week. He didn’t consider himself the jealous type. Maybe a little possessive sometimes. But he had to keep a tight leash on Corey Todd “Himbo” Taylor. Him being certified Awful was what got them into this mess in the first place. Jim just had a bad habit of catching feelings. Whatever, clearly Corey was more than okay with it.

[Yes I did use the word himbo in this fic and no I do not accept criticism. Also a bit of lore is that Corey essentially annoyed the absolute dick out of Jim until he was about ready to commit a murder all as an elaborate plan to get a date.]

“Nope, try that again.”

“Alright, what about Mick or—”

“Is that supposed to be better?” 

Corey groaned, punching Jim in the shoulder. “Why you gotta ruin all the fun? Can’t a dude get his face fucked and not get a bunch of shit for it?”

“Never said you couldn’t,” Jim mused. “But if you think I’m gonna let anybody else have that kind of satisfaction, you’re dead wrong dude. I’m the only one around here who deserves it. Take it or leave it.” 

Corey cocked his head to the side, staring Jim down like he was supposed to take him seriously. Like Jim didn’t already know the answer. Like he didn’t know that Corey was physically incapable of turning down the chance to get his shit rocked, whether it happened the way he wanted it to or not. 

“Fuck you. Fine.”

[Okay so this WHOLE FIC was deadass prompted by that stupid fucking picture of Corey with his fist shoved in his mouth skdjfg. So I was talking to Marina and I was like. Y’know. I bet he could fit two dicks in there. And I just kinda went buck wild. Jim was supposed to split the little bastard’s lips and shove a dildo in there too but that. Did not happen. Maybe someday.]

Content, Jim rolled off of him, got to his feet, and made a ‘well?’ gesture. Corey didn’t move, instead shooting him a look. A challenge.

Still playing that game. Alright.

Jim reached down, twisting Corey’s hair around his fist and dragging him towards the edge of the bed. “Really gonna be stubborn when you’re the one who’s begging for it?” 

“You want it all for yourself, you’re gonna have to work for it.” 

[Sir that is not how this works.]

Smug little fucker. Corey had put him through the same act at least a billion times now but somehow he still managed to find a way to get Jim to want to smack the ego right out of him. 

Corey slipped off the bed, knees buckling without (a ton of) struggle when Jim pushed him towards the floor. He tilted Corey’s head back, getting a firm grip on his jaw. 

“How you manage to be so cute while being such a pain in the ass still fuckin’ blows my mind, y’know.”

A giggle bubbled up in Corey’s chest. He strained against the hand in his hair, trying to wriggle his way out of Jim’s hold. He knew it wasn’t gonna happen, but hey— couple fingerprint shaped bruises never hurt anyone. 

[I didn’t realize how weird the wording here was until after I posted it ngl. Like. He’s angling Corey’s head back by pulling his hair and holding him there by holding his jaw. Just. To clear that up. I’ve been obsessing over this one little line for months cuz it’s a little weird but I Am Not Changing It.]

“You love it. Wouldn’t have put up with me this long if you didn’t. It’s okay, Peach. You can admit I’m hot shit.”

“Shut up, would you?” Jim tugged back, drawing a surprised noise out of Corey that only served to melt back into a laugh. “Jesus.”

“Come on, don’t be so touchy. I’m right.” Corey slid a hand up the inside of Jim’s thigh, pressing his palm into him and grabbing his already half-hard cock through his sweats. “If I’m not, then explain this away. Pavlov ain’t got shit on me.”

Nah. Nope. That was more than enough out of him. Jim wrenched Corey’s hand away, taking his hands off him just long enough to shove his sweats and boxers down and free his cock. “Open. And hands to your fuckin’ self.”

[SEE HE JUST MAD HIS DICK ENTERS THE CHAT EVERY TIME COREY’S BEING A LITTLE BITCH.]

Thankfully, that was the one thing that Corey didn’t try and fight. He leaned his head back, opened his mouth, and locked his gaze with Jim’s. Stupid pretty blue eyes practically sparkling, knowing damn well he got Jim good. Fuck. Asshole couldn’t turn it off for a second, could he? 

Jim grabbed him, holding him in place as he guided his dick into his mouth. Warm and wet and fucking perfect as always. This little shit was gonna give him a heart attack some day, he just knew it. 

He started off slow, watching Corey melt into it. Eyes fluttering shut, cheeks hollowing out around him, hands clasped behind his back. Tongue laving expertly around the head of Jim’s cock like it was second nature. Hot shit was a stretch, but hot was a different story. 

“Fuck yeah, that’s good,” Jim groaned, hand anchored on the back of Corey’s head as he rolled his hips into his mouth. “All bark and no bite. Think it would be easier to just say you wanna get used like a toy. Least you’re good at it.”

Corey made a pleased noise, leaning into it, taking Jim’s length deeper. He opened his eyes again, looking up at Jim through his lashes and whining softly. A plea for more. More ‘cause he was a greedy little bastard. 

Jim took the cue, snapping his hips forward, tightening his grip. He heard Corey sputter around him a bit, which only served as further encouragement. He fucked into his mouth in quick, deep thrusts, Corey practically going limp before him. The heat, the way Corey pressed his tongue against the underside of his cock, face contorting a bit every time Jim’s dick hit the back of his throat. Jim was already wrapped tight around the axel but god, it was too pretty of a sight to give up this early in the game. 

Even if it was giving Corey exactly what he was trying for— a happy Corey was a quiet Corey.

Or quieter.

[Ha.]

When Jim let up to let Corey catch his breath, he probably lost about half his brain cell count. Drool running down his chin, lips pink and swollen, crystal eyes brimming with tears— Corey looked practically ethereal. Like, fuck wings and halos. This was as close to angelic as someone could get and Jim fucking loved it. Shit. 

[He do be pretty tho. Also idk where the sudden religious imagery came from but like. I sure did stick with it huh. Whatever it works.]

Jim dragged his thumb over Corey’s bottom lip, breaking strings of spit that connected with his cock. He hooked his thumb under Corey’s chin, slipping two long fingers in his mouth and pressing down on his tongue. 

Corey closed around them, running his tongue between them before bobbing his head and taking them deeper. He moaned around the digits, shifting on his knees a little like he wanted to buck his hips into something that wasn’t there.

Satisfied, Jim retracted his fingers, rubbing them over Corey’s lips and chin and smearing spit across his face while he caught his breath. Jesus fucking Christ. He was feeling more and more like a ticking time bomb by the minute here, and Corey’s stupid obnoxious pretty blissed out face was doing him no favors. 

[At this point I was like. Hmmm. How many different ways can I ruin this stupid little rat’s entire career. This is really just the everything but the kitchen sink fic.]

No matter how good and perfect and fucked up and fucking slutty he looked down on his knees, taking whatever he was given, that didn’t change a damn thing. He was still the same terrible little demon that Jim knew and loved for some godforsaken reason. 

[THEY’RE IN LOVE!!!]

“‘S that it?” he rasped out, in between heavy breaths he knew he was gonna need to savor.

Nevermind. Jim was gonna kill him. Like, absolutely decimate him. 

[I WANT THAT TWINK OBLITERATED]

He thrust back into Corey’s mouth, finding the same fast pace as before. Haphazardly pulling Corey into it, meeting every rut of hips, making him struggle more this time around. Jim watched him squirm, nails biting into his wrists, but they stayed where they were locked behind his back. 

This was that sweet spot, where Corey felt filthy and used and amazing all wrapped up into one. Sure, he could ask for it, but it wouldn’t be nearly as fun. All the back and forth was part of the game that made the end goal that much sweeter. And yes, he was terrible and loved every minute of bugging the shit out of Jim until he finally snapped. It got him the attention, didn’t it?

[I started to veer off into this sort of perspective shift thing and I didn’t know how I felt about it while I was writing it but honestly I really like how it made the story flow.]

He was worlds away for a while, reduced to nothing more than a hole to be filled while Jim fucked his face. All moans and sloppy wet sounds, soaking up every little sensation— stingy pain of his hair being pulled, jaw starting to ache, cock fucking throbbing and leaking a wet spot into his boxers every time he got the least bit of friction. Jim thought Corey was an angel and this was most definitely heaven. 

Of course, Corey only stayed on cloud nine for so long. Jim hit the back of his throat again, holding him there this time. He only gagged a little at first, tears spilling over onto his cheeks. Corey’s eyes shot open and he whimpered around him, but Jim stayed put.

The second wave was worse, and he finally had to unclasp his hands and bring them up to grip onto Jim’s hips— his sign to let up.

Jim let go and pulled back just in time for a full body wretch to hit Corey. He doubled over, bracing himself on his hands, thick, stringy deepthroat spit dripping from his mouth. He hung his head, breathing hard, and Jim felt his cock twitch. 

[Don’t @ me I had just been subjected to not one but SEVERAL puke fics and I was feeling an emotion okay.]

“Oh fuck me,” Jim said out loud, because Jim was a gross horny fool. 

He knelt down, laying his hand against Corey’s cheek, making him lift his head again. He looked positively ruined. Eyes red, cheeks tear stained, whole mouth wet and well used, the front of his shirt starting to go sheer from all the drool. God, all Jim wanted to do was kiss him.

“Good?” Jim asked, and Corey gave a weak nod. Jim moved in a little closer. “Hey, talk to me. You okay? Need to stop?”

“Yeah, ‘m good,” Corey sighed, leaning his forehead against Jim’s. “Don’t wanna stop, no. Was into it, trust me.” He let go of a gravelly laugh, “Just gimme a minute.”

Jim nodded his head, running his thumb along the curve of Corey’s jaw. “Fuckin’ pretty, y’know.”

[Oh no they’re sweet.]

“Peach?”

“Mmm?”

“Shut up. Don’t just look at me like that. You look dumb.”

[Nvm.]

Jim rolled his eyes, “You shut up.” He curled his hand around the back of Corey’s neck and closed what little gap was left between them with a kiss. He tasted like cigarettes and salt and skin and it made Jim’s head spin and his stomach do backflips. Which I mean, was definitely due in part to the fact that his dick was cocked and ready to blow like a shotgun straight through the wall next to him. But Corey— the feel of his skin and the taste on his tongue and his weight on top of Jim when he was being dumb and pretty and needy and refusing to be anything less than the center of attention— well, that never helped Jim’s case. 

Soft little whimpers from Corey were muffled into Jim’s mouth, hands sliding around his broad frame and hiking his shirt up so Corey could trace over the curve of Jim’s spine. Little bit of contact, closeness that was lost when it wasn’t Jim balls deep inside of him. This was okay though. More than okay, fucking fantastic. Good to the point that Corey didn’t even try and fight when Jim pulled away. Especially not when he tugged his head back, making him look up at the ceiling as he licked a stripe from the very bottom of his chin, back to his lips. He kissed him again, like he needed to be attached at the mouth to survive, tongue easily gaining entry into Corey’s mouth and pulling more throaty moans from him. 

[Jk they’re still gross and in love.]

It was over all too quickly, Corey making a sound in protest as Jim pulled away from him and rose to his feet again. Jim yanked his head back, catching his lower lip with his thumb, mouth falling open once more. Before the thought even had the chance of passing through Corey’s mind of what the hell— Jim was bent over him, holding him in place as he spit into his mouth. Or rather back into his mouth. 

Oh. Shit. Alright. 

[Again, everything but the kitchen sink here boys.]

Several emotions flashed across Corey’s face before he settled in at acceptance, staring up at Jim with big, glazed over eyes as he towered over him.

“You want more?”

Corey nodded a very enthusiastic yes.

“Gonna be a good boy for me?”

That was met with some hesitation, knit brows and a shrug of the shoulders like he was weighing his options. Jim just shook his head. “If you’re gonna be a shit, then you can do it your damn self now. Prove you deserve it.”

Corey shot him a look, but he didn’t exactly try and argue. Wouldn’t be the first time he sucked a dick to make a point. Definitely not the last either. He sat up on his knees, wrapping his hand around Jim’s length, working him in slow, even strokes as he teased his tongue over the head. Jim about had an aneurysm from the looks of it and Corey couldn’t help but giggle. 

Jim knocked his knuckles against the side of Corey’s face. Not hard enough to hurt, but still enough to make him knock it the fuck off.

Stupid slut. 

[This still makes me giggle. Like you bap a fucking cat on the nose dksgdfj.]

Sucking the tip of Jim’s dick into his mouth, Corey gave a contented hum. He bobbed his head up and down, keeping pace with his hand, Jim lazily tracing his fingertips over the stubble on his cheeks. He mumbled a string of praise— ‘fuck yeah, baby’ and ‘so fucking good’ and ‘shit, just like that.’ Caught up and fucked up all over again. Corey Taylor was a bastard and Jim wasn’t about to give him up for a goddamn thing. 

Corey pulled off of him with a filthy ‘pop,’ wasting little time between then and ducking his head down to tongue at Jim’s balls. For what had to be the billionth time in the past ten minutes, Jim was briefly convinced he was going to leave this earth entirely. It was all he could do, to watch dumbly as Corey worked from left to right, sucking and moaning and swirling his tongue in just the right way to make Jim’s dick visibly twitch in his hand 

“Jesus fuck, baby.”

Jesus fuck, indeed. He was already seeing stars and he still hadn’t come yet. Here he was, giving the incentive of more when his knees were about to buckle. Who’s the jackass now?

[Me: writing oral sucks it’s always awkward and repetitive

Also me: stretches the oral to 5k]

Jim’s head fell back as Corey worked his way back up his length, running his tongue along the underside of it before damn near hilting him on his first try. He choked a little, pulling back to center himself before he tried again. Obscene sounds and lascivious moans filled the air, Jim’s eyes squeezed shut as he focused on the heat burning in the pit of his stomach. All he needed was a minute or two and to watch Corey’s eyes roll back in his skull to be pulled taut and ready to snap at any second. 

“Fuck me, I’m so close. Come on baby, don’t stop. Know you want it too.” Jim’s hand had found its way to the back of Corey’s head again, forcing him further down, finding that perfect rhythm again. Call it a sign of encouragement. Or something. 

Yeah, encouragement.  

Corey worked him as hard as he could, sucking and licking and slurping and swallowing him whole until the vibrations from one final groan around Jim’s cock brought all these sensations to a crescendo. Jim held him down as he came hard, spilling down his throat, swearing and gritting his teeth. Corey nursed him through, sucking him slow as Jim’s arms and legs turned to jello. Watching through his lashes as he tensed and moaned, breathing in sharp, ragged inhales until he finally had to shove Corey away ‘cause shit. 

Jim sighed heavily, pushing his hair back and out of his face, staring down at the stupid cocky look on Corey’s face. Were he able to form a coherent thought, he would have taken his ego down a notch— unfortunately, mentally he was still somewhere off in orbit. Without being entirely aware of his own actions, Jim was grabbing Corey by the collar and getting him back up off his knees. He shoved his hands underneath the hem of his shirt, fingertips studying inches of skin, the hair on his stomach, sides damp with sweat, every bump and imperfection before finally pulling the ratty spit-soaked tee over his head. 

[And to your left, you see Service Top Brain immediately taking control the second Jim no longer has enough brain cells to resist it.]

He pulled Corey to him, hands on his waist as he backed up to the bed, knees giving way when they hit the edge of the mattress. Jim hit the bed and laid back, bringing Corey down with him and directly into a kiss. Strong arms circled around Corey’s frame, bodies pressed snug, mouths melded together as one. Whatever post-nut trance Jim was in, it was perfectly fine by Corey. This was close and safe and comfortable and I mean, with the way Jim was rocking him against his stomach, you weren’t gonna hear much more than the sound of his brain cells popping like balloons ‘cause his dick was taking up all the blood flow. 

[They may be stupid but you gotta admit. They are pretty tender too.]

A high pitched whine that (it was safe to assume) was supposed words fell from Corey’s lips as Jim’s connected with the center of his chest. He had pulled away panting, working his way down— mouthing at Corey’s jaw, nipping at his earlobe, leaving a trail of hickeys down his neck. Maybe it had caught Corey off guard a little, not getting told off for being a shit and all, but any and all attention was welcome here with open arms. 

“Fuck, Jim c’mon,” he barely managed to gasp out. Forming sentences wasn’t about to be the first to go. He had a reputation to uphold here. “Better not start messin’ with me now.”

Teeth clinked against metal, Jim tugging on the ring through his right nipple and ripping all the thoughts straight from his brain for a moment. He swirled his tongue over the hardening flesh before biting down. Corey shivered and bit back a moan, pain radiating through him and twisting up in his gut. Like he wasn’t already prepared to implode as is. “Mother fucking Mary. Now you’re just making it a point to be a dick. Nobody likes a tease, Peach.”

[Also calling Jim peach is Corey’s thing in this universe. It’s gross. And soft. They’re the worst.]

Nothing. Not even an upwards glance. 

Corey wanted to scream. He wanted to slam his fist down on the bed, call Jim some new variant on ‘cunt,’ fight back, take control. But he also really didn’t want this to stop. He was so hard it fucking hurt and Jim had him right in the palm of his hand where he could barely keep his head straight and honestly? He was perfectly fine sitting right there. He was probably just missing some cue. Off by a beat and too whiny and stubborn to realize it. (Which he was. Corey never claimed to be smart. Especially not when his lizard brain was kicked into overdrive and all he could think about was getting split in half.) 

[He’s so STUPID. God. Bratty ass dumbass.]

While the idea was pretty appealing, he couldn’t even begin to collect the agency he’d need for any of that anyway. There was now a hand dangerously high up on his thigh, thumb tracing line where it met his hip, and there was no goddamn way he was gonna be able to focus on anything else. 

So Jim still did want him dead. Cool. 

“God baby, what do you want?” Corey whined, raking his nails over Jim’s chest, watching red marks appear in their wake. “I wasn’t even that bad. Did everything you wanted, barely even gave you shit. What, you want me to get you off again? ‘Cause I can do that. I’ll gladly do that if it gets you to quit fucking dragging me along. I’ll do all the work and fuck you myself if I gotta. Could smash my face into a wall and call me a soul sucking whore for all I care. Jesus Christ, just give me more.”

[YOU’RE SO CLOSE YET SO FAR BUD.]

Jim’s fingertips dipped into the elastic of Corey’s boxers, dragging across the front between his hips, just barely brushing against his cock before the waistband snapped back against his skin. Corey yelped, heels of his palms digging into Jim’s collarbones. He had no doubt Jim was thoroughly enjoying this, but the joke wasn’t all that funny anymore. Wasn’t very funny to begin with, actually. 

“Fuck me, Peach please. Please, I’ll do fucking anything. Just quit doing that.”

Suddenly Corey’s back was against the sheets again, Jim sliding back off the bed to tear his boxers down and toss them in some vague direction (he was only really going for away.) He nudged Corey’s legs apart and kneed back up between them, fingers curling around his cock. Corey’s hips immediately jerked up into the contact and he let out a hiss. Good god, he was so fucking sensitive he wanted to die. He made a noise that sounded more like a sob than anything, grabbing at Jim’s wrist. If he stopped he was going to scream but if he kept it up Corey was about to be launched into space and land on fucking Neptune. 

“Was that really so hard?” Jim questioned, and yeah. Maybe it was. Getting Corey to ask nice instead of being a colossal brat was like pulling teeth from an alligator. Fortunately for Jim, he was currently on a one way flight to the next realm. It was a little harder to keep all that up in the moment. 

Another “please” was all Corey managed— clearly asking for something else, something more— but Jim couldn’t just let him have that. 

“See, now you’re getting the hang of it!”

[Jim: See I can be an asshole too]

Corey snaked his arms around Jim’s neck, pulling him down to eye level. “Is it your goal in life to be a giant fucking pain in the ass?”

[Yes. That and buy a bike.]

“As much as it is yours, baby.” Jim laughed, nuzzling against Corey’s cheek. He mouthed little kisses against his jaw, slowly stroking him, pulling a frustrated growl from somewhere deep in his chest. 

He clawed at Jim’s shoulders, threading his hand through Jim’s hair and tugging back hard. More than anything, he was just trying to keep himself some semblance of centered. It wasn’t working very well. “Fucking hell. More, give me more. Give me your hands.”

Jim lifted his gaze, meeting Corey’s eyes, staring at him blankly. 

“Please.”

The grip around Corey’s cock let up and he groaned again at the loss of friction. It was gonna take next to nothing to make him fall apart. Callused fingers fingers slip up his torso and caught on his bottom lip, still kissed and swollen. “I’ll do that for you, but you might have to remind me how you earned it.”

Corey barely let him finish before he had his lips wrapped around two digits, working his tongue along them. He held onto Jim’s wrist, forcing them back and making himself gag hard. At this point, he didn’t care what it took. Besides, it was either keep his mouth busy or run it anyway. He flashed a look back up at Jim, batting his lashes and making sure to give him a little show before finally pulling off and kissing his fingertips. Is that wasn’t enough, then he didn’t know what the fuck would be.

And thank fucking buddha Jim’s mouth was enveloping his own just a moment later, one of his thighs being pushed back for a better angle and some leverage as Jim’s other hand slid between his legs. Slick fingers pressed against his entrance, drawing a pathetic noise from his throat, his legs twitching in eager anticipation. 

The first eased in, sunk home, and Corey could have sworn he saw the light in that moment. Glitter and gold and pearly gates, fluffy white clouds, and giant fucking bearpaw hands that were holding his entire fucking being in their palms. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to that— Jim being that big. I mean sure, his dick alone could take out a whole city easily, but it was all of him. Limbs and chest and hips and hands. Oh good god, his hands. Say what you want about how dumb and awkward he was otherwise, but he always knew exactly what he was doing with his hands. 

[HE DO BE LANKY AND AWKWARD. Also I still can’t help but think of how weird his hands are. Like they’re so SMALL in proportion to the rest of him but they’re still HUGE. James what the fuck is that shit.]

 Corey moaned into the mouth locked with his own as Jim started to pump in and out of him, the stretch nearly impossible feeling for just one finger. Maybe it was that he was already desperate, ready to burst, that had him so beyond himself. Maybe it was just the fact that Jim knew exactly how to poke and prod to make him start to come apart at the seams. 

He started to relax more, lean into it (or as best as he could with the weight on top of him.) Steady chants of ‘yes, yes, yes, more, fuck’ swarmed around whatever little bubble they’d been encapsulated in. Corey practically had Jim in a chokehold, holding him down as close as he could possibly get, foreheads pressed together. Completely and totally consumed. 

Another finger worked inside him, curling and twisting and scissoring him open, making him flutter around them and writhe to find just the right— 

“There, there. Don’t you dare stop. Holy shit.” Corey cried out, arching up off the mattress, holding onto Jim for dear life. “So fucking good. Feels so fucking good.”

Jim brushed his fingertips against Corey’s walls again, hitting that sweet spot and eliciting another borderline embarrassing moan. “Yeah, that’s it. Not so tough like this, are you? Fight so hard to get what you want and you still come undone for me just the same. Real good when you want to be, y’know.”

Whatever Corey wanted to say came out in an incoherent mumble— something something for you and something something damn lucky. His orgasm was already twisting and burning in the pit of his stomach, and his was still only very loosely tied to this realm. Beyond taken and fucked up and he loved every minute of it. 

[Fighting to the very end, even with fingers in his ass. Just shut up already you stupid slut.]

He couldn’t take his eyes off Jim as he wormed his way out of his grasp, sat back, spread his legs a little wider apart. He leaned down, and Corey was vaguely aware of him spitting before he felt like he was being properly split in two. A third digit joined the other two. God, it was almost too much. Impossibly full and tight and overwhelming, all thanks to James and his inhumanely big hands that were surely going to be Corey’s cause of death here one of these days. 

Corey couldn’t even breathe now, squeaking out another little plea for more, honed in on Jim like a deer in headlights. He knotted his hands up in the sheets, finally able to roll his hips and fuck himself against Jim’s hand without him pinning him in place. The blood rushing through his ears still wasn’t quite loud enough to drown out Jim’s encouragement— “So good, so pretty, look at you, perfect little slut. All mine. Come on baby, let me see you come.” 

That alone was enough to make Corey’s eyes roll back in his head, but one last perfect angle of his hips was what finally sent him over the edge. He came so hard his vision went fuzzy, limbs giving out as he spilled over his stomach and cried out, “Oh god, fuck daddy.”

[THERE IT IS. One of the terrible influences who shall not be named popped into my DMs like “Consider: unnegotiated honorary in a moment of carnal horny and then Jim just straight up CACKLES” and I was like well. Guess That’s Getting Throw In The Pile Too.] 

There was a minute of blank, overwhelmed and far away and completely beyond himself. Jim milked him through it, still working his fingers in and out as the aftershocks made him twitch and whimper, until he started to come back down again. Actually, the only thing that snapped him back to the here and now was realizing that Jim was laughing. Not just laughing, giggling like a goddamn school girl. 

You had to be fucking kidding. 

Corey reached out, attempting to smack him but missing entirely. “Fuck’s so funny?”

“Daddy? Dude. You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding right?” Jim dissolved into another fit of laughter, eyes scrunched up in a big grin. 

“Shut up. Shut your fucking mouth now. You don’t get to hold the shit I say when I come against me.” Corey huffed, sitting up on his elbows and trying to scoot away. Unlucky for him, Jim was still big enough to lean over him again and still be eye level. 

He pushed Corey’s hair back, pressing a kiss to his lips with a deep chuckle. “Quit your whining. You alright?”

Corey rolled his eyes, collapsing with a sigh and (albeit begrudgingly) circling his arms around Jim’s neck. “Mmm, peachy. Just shut up and cuddle me, you fucking demon. And you tell no one about that.”

[ANYWAY. This fic took me like three wholeass months or something so I hope it was worth it. There’s also a coinciding playlist that goes with this beast if you click on the AO3 link back at the top. Thank you for reading this disaster.] 

[lisaroquin]

yeah, I’m a redneck, but leave the kids alone no matter your opinion

I suppose this all falls under the disconnect, absolute ignorance, and what most out in the sticks would just shake their heads or roll thier eyes with various levels of disbelief and/or disgust at 'city stupid'

Like the post I've seen several times on my dash about calf nose tags, or the post that has gone around several times at OMGWTFBBQ!!! Pigs are big?

THere was a post "I'll unfriend you if you post a dead deer and your six year old kid" and the hilariously stupid on that of "I don't kill anything for my food, I buy it at the grocery store like a civilized person"

"Civilized" in that case is extremely disconnected. Dude the meat you buy at the grocery store did not just magically appear. Yeah something was killed for it, even if you want to pretend otherwise and didn't do it yourself, something was killed for it. And a hell of a lot more of that animal was probably wasted than the deer some kid was proud as hell of bringing down. (Now trophy hunters after a set of antlers make me fucking see red, but that is not the majority--though the pricing of hunting permits certainly seem to cater to those fuckers. Nor do I have much use for 'fish-in-a-barrel hunting where wildlife ranches sell 'hunting packages' with animals trained to show up in certain spots because food is always left out there)

Hunting season is actually a necessary part of wildlife management--it is also limited, the amount of hunting permits can vary from year to year, and the type of permit (doe or buck for deer season since that is what is coming up and had the comment of stupidity about being 'civilized')  

Wildlife management is about maintaining healthy wild populations. Overpopulation? Means starvation for a deer population because too many deer, not enough to eat, that crosses over to damaged and destroyed crops--which if there's enough of that, your civilized food--particularly cereals or grain based of any type go up in cost. Farmers financial issues can result from that--and guess what civilized folks, that impacts you. Because family farms are a hell of a lot better for the environment than corporate--corporate farms do not give a fuck. The ones making the money are in a city somewhere and do not care about the runoff of anything be it animal waste or chemicals into the water table. (and on a side note--the massive issues of growth hormone and antibiotics in meat supplies come down from fda type mandates on 'safe food standards' same with so much of hte chemicals now used in crop production--pushed by corps, forced on farmers that originally were clueless on how the long term issues would go. family farms keep their animals healthy because their family *depends* on it. and pay a hell of a lot more attention to the impact of things on the land because *their family lives there* and will be effected first.)

Over population also means disease.  Some which very easily hops species to farm animals, and there goes your 'civilized food' at the grocery store, possibly contamniated, recalls. etc etc etc.

And the diseases can wipe out wild populations in an area, can cause some major problems that spread just--well like we had bluetongue go through the deer around here about 3yrs ago. Lot of dead deer around, just dropping dead with cyanotic lips and tongues and then you have the issues brought by carcasses rotting especially along the rivers, which I live near. Populations devastated by disease have years, possibly decades coming back from that and rebalancing the areas ecosystem.

Wildlife management --which includes hunting for some animals--actually keeps the population healthy and prevents the spread of diseases, starvation of the wildlife etc.

But that (eventual, always a few, majority I see ar emore like 10-14 of kids w/ deer but sometimes the littler one gets a really lucky shot) little kid you're howling about pictured with that dead deer--do you know what that little kid actually did? That little kid was up by four at the latest, to go out, and walking through terrain that is not a stroll in park. November--cold, wet, 4am. While there my not be snow, temps esp in early morning are not higher than 20s F (which, for those of you measuring temps differently 32 is freezing). Wait in dew and cold, rain or snow easily possiblilities as well, and quite possibly come home with jack shit, hours of patience and down right cold and shitty-ick-to miserable if it's rainy/snowy for nothing. A permit doesn't mean you get a deer, just means you have a *chance* at getting a deer.

So that six, seven eight year old--who has by the point they go out hunting had hours upon hours of gun safety, like as not been put through hunting and gun safety classes--spends hours of at least semi challenging endurance (which the civilized commenter going to the grocery store probably couldn't stand and would be appalled at). Has had numerous types of wildlife sign, plants, etc pointed out (if they haven't already learned htem) has spent *HOURS* huddled up with parent/grandparent/aunt/uncle and a sibling or cousin or two pending how big the hunting party is and how scattered they are where they're hunting, even if they're sitting up in a deer blind, that's generally fucking cold and windy and not a lot of room so only two or three likely in it (because yup women and girls hunt too, this is not toxic masculinity. Hell I know some women who'll leave the husband at home with the kids and go on a girls hunting trip. hubby more city and doesn't hunt in the particular case I'm thinking of) *gasp* the horrors, hours of quiet conversation, passing down of knowledge.

So the kid gets a deer and is over the fucking moon because actually got one. Picture necessary. Just like any other activity the kid is in (little league/softball/soccer/dance/band/choir/midget football wtf ever)

You know what happens then? The kid gets a lesson in field dressing most likely. Possibly a lesson in butchering--pending if the parents/grandparents do it themselves or they take it to a meat locker to do.

That little kid you'e so horrified over, just provided a fuck of a lot of meat for their family for the winter--and that meat will not be wasted. Unlike the civilized meat at the grocery store which is garbage when it gets past it's packaged expiration date. (and for those of you that don't know--Bambi tastes fucking awesome. Lot like beef only a bit stronger and richer, for the most general comparison) That kid just possibly fed their family for the next two fucking months. That kid has put in some long miserable hours to get that deer, because you don't just walk out and boom come home with a big deer (that *can* happen but realistically it's several days of freezing your ass off, hoping and praying like hell you actually get something. I'm not arguing sport or not--but it is work, with some real fucking physical effort and physical endurance as well as, usually, hours upon hours of patience put in to get a deer)

And if the family is really lucky and the household brings down their limit--which means they have more than their freezer can hold--it's gifted. There's papers got to fill out --yep you have to have your hunting license and have paperwork to legally have deer in your freezer. Has to be accounted for in case of poaching investigation ever cropping up (hey that gives someone a minimum wage data entry job with gov bennies so whatever even if is rather redundant and aggravating for the common folk.) so fill out your gifting paper and give it along with some meat to extended family/neighbors etc.

Several foodbanks accept deer. And give the meat to people who are at the fucking foodbank because they can't afford to eat.

That little kid grinning so proudly with their deer--deserves to be proud. And in the process of getting that deer have gotten a hell of a lot of lessons in everything from gun safety, nature, possibly wildlife diseases (hopefully not, because that would mean there are visible signs of disease on the deer, and meat then unsafe to eat.) has put more time, effort and discomfort into that than a 'civilized' person at the grocery store will ever grasp--even in the learning of gun safety and so on to be able to go, long before there's thought of that child going hunting. That little kid just learned a hell of a lot more of what it takes to feed their family or strangers if that meat is donated, what it feels like to really accomplish something worthwhile. That little kid has spent more time out in nature than the 'civilized' person deriding them and their family likely has--even if one counts a manicured public park as nature.

That little kid has learned a  hell of a lot bringing down that deer, even getting to the point it was deemed they could go hunting. (no one takes a completely untaught and unmindful child hunting). That little kid, is a kid who knows how to listen, who knows how to follow instruction and learn, is a kid who has more respect for and knowledge of wildlife and nature than some airhead model prancing around naked for PETA. Is a kid who has spent hours upon hours time with parent/older family member, probably listening to stories of parent/aunts/uncles childhood, grandparents childhood. Like as not with a few lessons thrown in unthinkingly like finding deer tracks/trails, possibly (probably) spotting other tracks--beaver, raccoon, badger, opossum, dog/coyote/wolf, and around here mountain lion. Seeing plenty of other animals and birds besides the deer they're looking for--around here fucking massive populations of wild turkey, plus hawks, eagles, vast assortment of smaller birds, geese and ducks migrating etc.

Y'all so up in arms at all this flailing and wringing hands....

Why don't you take a hunting safety course? You don't have to hunt to take the course, but more and more (if not almost all) places require it for child hunters these days. See what that kid has actually learned before they go near hunting.

Look up deer diseases. Look up the issues with localized overpopulation of wildlife. Look up sharedeer.org.

Hunting is not for everyone, that's fine. (Fuck no, while I'll gladly accept some venison even pay for processing of part of a deer, my ass is not going out and freezing for hours for maybe nothing. Joint deterioration I have is not about to let me even if I wanted to)

But y'all love to go on about 'don't like, scroll on, don't be an asshole' practice what you preach.

Yeah. Scroll on, quietly delete, whatever. Just shut up about it. You don't have to be an asshole--especially about a kid that is quite possibly better educated on several 'uncivilized' subjects like wildlife,gun safety, butchering and meat processing than you'll ever be. A kid that actually *put a fuck of a lot of effort and discomfort* in accomplishing something that will feed their family and/or others, with meat that sure as hell isn't going to be wasted like meat at the supermarket might be (and pro-tip, folks who take their *child* hunting aren't big macho dickheads looking for a trophy, they're looking for fucking *food* and quite probably have scrimped and saved back a dollar here five there for the chance at getting that food becuase hunting permits are not fucking cheap and those looking for food are not rich.) That kid so proud of their deer-- honestly worked for that deer with the amount of effort and discomfort and time put into getting it. Has learned a hell of a lot in the process of getting that deer, and just had the time of their life with parent/grandparent/older relative of some sort in the process of it as well as a good deal of conversation with parent/grandparent/older relative.

Y'all, go watch Lion King again maybe? Maybe that will help you grasp a bit of circle of life.... think what you want, scroll past, unfriend/unfollow wtf, but *don't fucking be an asshole and post shit at the kid.*  That kid deserves to be proud, and so do their parents.