#but i need this scruffy old man dick

[kentocidal]

if i write a long aizawa fic would anyone read it

[acheronist]

terror ship reviews now that i've had enough time to tell the scruffy white men apart

peglar/bridgens: canonical 'fucking that old man' unproblematic literature-as-a-flirting-tactic husbands. thank you so much.

jopson/little: admittedly perhaps the most 'they stood next to each other a few times' ship of all time. and yet!!!! genuinely an untapped goldmine of [ neither of us can fuck the captain but we COULD fuck each other as we die slow tragic unforgiving deaths, which is almost as good ] which i am unfortunately obsessed with

crozier/fitzjames: cishet bitter divorce to t4t loving marriage speedrun (scurvy acoustic remix) you do like to see it. They should have gone honeymooning in the Caribbean instead of doing all that

hickey/gibson: they're both so atrocious that theyre perfect for each other. real housewives of hms terror level psychosexual warfare going on there. great stuff.

tozer/little: they should fuck raw and nasty in the orlop narrative foils style while trying to kill each other

jopson/crozier: one of them needs to do bdsm or he will die and the other has chronic whisky dick + barely realizes his steward has a personality outside of polishing forks and sewing buttons

hickey/tozer: puppyplay where he gets taken out behind the canvas tent and put down like a sick animal (no aftercare)

armitage/tozer: puppyplay where he gets taken out behind the canvas tent to be kissed sweetly without prying eyes from fellow mutineers (with aftercare)

crozier/blanky: dudes rock + hell yeah brother

[gascon-en-exil]

Have you ever fucked anyone that was less than 50 years old…doubt it

I get that this is supposed to be an insult, but - have you ever had sex with anyone over fifty? Visions of scruffy silver daddies with fat dicks and fatter wallets aside, it's typically not as glamorous as all that. Consider -

Realizing that you have very little in common with someone a generation or more older than you, and yet still needing to keep conversation flowing over dinner or drinks. Often this boils down to pretending to listen to a man ramble on for 20-30 minutes about something I absolutely couldn't care about in the slightest, all while nodding and smiling and asking questions at intervals to keep him talking.

When they fumble over a socially acceptable way to refer to their relationship with you. I've been a "son," a "nephew," a "personal assistant," an "protégé," etc.

When you feel like you should have become a nurse with as much as you're expected to engage with their prescription drug cocktails, CPAP machines, and assorted other medical needs.

When daddy kink doesn't work because either they're not into it, they don't understand the concept of roleplay, or they want to be into it but aren't creative enough for dirty talk.

When they need to be pumped full of Viagra/Cialis to even get it up, but of course still expect you to be patient and perform whenever they're finally ready.

Related, when it takes them an eon to cum but you just have to keep going or otherwise they're not going to be as satisfied and are less likely to want to take you out again.

When they're bad at sex, at times in ways that might actually be painful...but trying to teach or correct them is awkward because they're more than twice your age.

And of course, when even the longest-lasting arrangements inevitably end because you're getting older and thus no longer attractive to them, and they've found a younger replacement.

I'm not actually a gerontophile, and most of the time my genuine physical interest in these men is minimal. Still, I've undoubtedly had my share of interesting experiences from sleeping with predominantly older men, and I do take professional pride in my capabilities both in and out of bed. I question if you could do half so much, trolling anon.

But to answer your ask, I do occasionally sleep with men closer to my age for a variety of reasons. The only sincere marriage proposal I've ever received was from a man just three years older than me, and in the broader world of kink I've entertained plenty of men under 50. I'm quite versatile in many respects.

[readingwiththereids]

yanda! speaks: hello my pretties! as promised, here is chapter 2! again, minimal carm so i’m sorry but we do get to see camila interact with the rest of the gang <3 hope you like it, don’t forget to like and reblog! lots of love and light 🤎

masterlist

night rain ; chapter 2

2022

Emilia was hyper and extremely difficult to tire out. Even after a two-hour trip to the park filled with nonstop monkey bars and swings, the young girl still always had another activity in mind for her and her mother to do. And that was why Camila was currently trying to stop Emilia from jumping from couch to chair and cracking her head open as they played “pirates”.

“Emmy, I swear to God if you jump, I won’t make you pudding for a week.” Camila yelled as she eyed her daughter sternly.

As the toddler huffed and sat down on the arm of the couch, a muffled ringtone sounded from under the pile of toys on the living room floor prompting Cam to rush to answer. It was Tina.

“Mami? ¿Qué pasó?” [What happened?]

“Why would you assume something happened, Camila? What if I just wanted to hear your voice?”

“Because when I tried to call you during the day last week you told me to, and I quote, ‘hop off your dick’.”

“Okay but that was different, I actually want something from you now.”

“So you do need something.” Camila chuckled into the speaker.

“Yes. Yes, whatever, God you’re just as bad as the new girl.”

“Who?” 

“No one. Could you please be my darling daughter and bring me one of my extra clean aprons? Your boyfriend won’t stop yelling at me about it.”

Ignoring the way her mother referred to Carmy, Camila replied watching Emilia start to yawn on the couch, “Are you aware that your darling daughter is also the mother to a two-year-old?” 

“Isn’t it nap time? Just bring her with, she can sleep in the car.”

A pause.

“Will you take care of her on Friday during the gala?” 

^^^^^^^^^

“I’ll be right back.” Camila whispered as she exited and locked her child in the car.

5 minutes. Just 5.

The woman thought as she hesitantly walked through the door of The Beef before being met with almost half a dozen bodies hovering around what seemed to be sandwiches.

“Cam?” 

Marcus spotted her first, immediately walking around the group to engulf her in a huge bear hug. Suddenly everyone was surrounding her. She couldn’t even count how many hugs, kisses on the cheek and pats on the back she received from her chosen family. The commotion obviously summoned the king of noise and ruckus himself, Richie and an unknown girl with multi-coloured braids trailing behind him. 

“As I live and breathe!” Richie’s voice boomed through the front of house.

“Hey, Cousin.” Camila laughed as he picked her up and spun her around.

“Feel like I haven’t seen you in ages, Mini.”

“Likewise,” she said before turning to the girl she had yet to be introduced to. “Camila, nice to meet you.” she smiled.

“Hi! My name’s Sydney, I’m staging today.”

“Awesome, I hope everyone’s made you feel welcome.” 

Angel stepped in, clearing up the confusion on Sydney’s side. “Cam is Tina’s daughter.” 

“And Carmen’s ex-girlfriend.” Ebra loudly whispered.

“Ebraheim, you know you can’t whisper.” Tina rolled her eyes, slapping his arm.

Breaking the awkwardness, Sweeps walked up to Camila with a sandwich in his hand. “Yo, you gotta try this.”

“Holy shit, this is fu-”

“Fucking fire, we know!” Richie groaned. “I don’t know why you all act like Cousin shits out a golden egg every time he makes something, nothing is that good!”

“Well, have you tried it, Richard?” Camila asked.

The scruffy man paused before shaking his head as if that was one of the most absurd questions anyone had ever dared to utter in his presence.

“Exactly,” Cam continued. “Also, I’ve seen you eat a slice of pizza off the floor in the middle of Millennium Park, so I’m not entirely sure if your standards are up to code, Rich.”

That statement resulted in many exclaims and expressions of disgust, amusement and pure shock which were all interrupted when the kitchen door slammed open.

“Alright! Everyone stop standing around, we only have an hour left till-”

When Camen looked up from his phone and saw the very reason his employees refused to get back to work, he froze. Believe it or not, this was the first time in three years that he had seen Camila’s face. After she left, she never told him where she went, removed him from all her social media, left some money for him to pay off their apartment and basically disappeared off of the face of the earth. It hit him hard at first but he soon realised that he had to just keep going, keep himself busy, which his career did a fine job at. 

However, it still felt weird seeing her again. Not exactly like reopening an old wound but rather reminding him of one that never really healed, that he’d just forgotten was still hurting.

Due to his train of thought, Carmy failed to notice that the room had almost entirely cleared out, leaving just him and the woman he’d been in love with once (and honestly was still in love with).

“Hi.” he eventually croaked out.

“Hi.” she smiled sadly.

yanda! speaks (again): cam in her bad mom era tbh. like girl why are you leaving your child in the car in the middle of river north?? 🤨

🏷️ list: @rexorangecouny @louderfortheback

[dm me to get on the tag list :b]

[mermaidsirennikita]

hiii caro!! i'm looking for recs with a hairy mmc... like the hairier the better tbh. down for historical/paranormal/contemp, honestly anything that mentions a dude being hairy and the fmc or mmc (doesn't matter!) being into it. thank u queen you've never done me wrong and i trust your recommendations above all others. 🙏❣️

You're so kind! Whenever people say things like that I feel so undeserving lol, it's very sweet.

I also love pelt men. We need more.

SO! I would first off saying that Kresley Cole's werewolf IAD books generally feature big wolfy men (obviously) who tend to be pretty... scruffy. Pleasure of a Dark Prince is always going to be my go-to for entry-level Lykae (as she calls them) (though tbh, Garreth is still... a lot... and I mean that in the best way).

Knockout by Sarah MacLean features Tommy, who is bearded and has thighs like a giant oak trees, which is all what I want. He's supposed to give "the duke from Miss Scarlet and The Duke" (but he fucks) vibes.

A Holly Jolly Ever After by Sierra Simone and Julie Murphy has a hero who's both hairy AND dad bod-i-ful which is honestly just like a fucking dream.

The Game Plan by Kristen Callihan has a very brawny, very beardy, quietly strong NFL player who has been pining after the heroine (his best friend's sister in law) for quite some time. And he is! A virgin!

Devil in Disguise by Lisa Kleypas has Keir, a Scottish hero who is bearded for Plot Important Reasons, but also basically has to wear a beard because he's too pretty without it. Like. The women can't handle it. He's doing them a service.

A lot of Kleypas books have moments that note the heroes' hairy bodies, actually. Which is why she makes it a point to be like RHYS WINTERBORNE JUST CAN'T GROW BODY HAIR AND HE WAS BULLIED FOR IT. In Kleypas books having a smooth chest is like. Something people will spit on you for.

So yeah, basically every Kleypas hero aside from Rhys is gonna have her mention that he is Hairy.

I am not 10000% sure on this, but I feel like The Hawk by Monica McCarty has a hairy Scottish hero. Like I feel as if there's a scene where he pops out of the water completely naked and shakes himself off like a dog and the old man who's waiting for him for Spy Reasons is like dude your dick is just swinging in the wind

I believe Preferential Treatment by Heather Guerre, one of my favorite billionaire books, has a hero with a big hairy chest. He's also a Russian billionaire who pays the heroine, who works lower level shit in his company, to be his domme! And if you're asking "But Caro, does she use a vibrating butt plug on him?" The answer is I'd be mad if she didn't. You have to wait for it, but yes.

Pretty sure that the hero of Eva Leigh's A Rogue's Rules for Seduction is hairy. And big. And upset about his horrible past which is why he has to get down on his knees and eat the heroine out until said knees bleed on the cobblestones.

I believe the hero of S.M. LaViolette's The Bastard has a plot important beard at one point because he has some pretty bad Glasgow Grin scars. My poor baby John. But the heroine helps him heal, etc etc.

EDIT:

Oh, preorder The Wedding Witch by Erin Sterling! It was a 4.5/5 for me and the hero is so hairy that his family jokes about him being a werewolf (he's not he's a witch)

Matilda Halifax Learns the Value of Restraint by Alexandra Vasti has a hero whose virile beard makes him look Villainous.

[writingkitten]

Oooh, review anon coming in with a headcanon thought - what are first kisses with each of the boys like? How do they approach it?

THIS IS SO CUTE OH MY GOD

Ricky: my GOD this man… this man does things to me. He would be such a gentleman about it, yet in a mischievous way because he just is that way. I feel like he’d drop you off at your house after the first date, walk you up to your door, and as you’re about to say goodnight he just grabs you and gives you the most passionate first kiss EVER ugh my love

Robert: he’d be a little nervous because fuck you’re so pretty and he’s anxious about his size so he’s shocked you even went on a date with him, but he’d go for it and give you a gentle, soft peck that is just not enough so you pull him back and give him the kind of kiss that he really wanted

Harold: OH MY GOD MY PRECIOUS SWEET BRITISH BOY he 100% ask before kissing you because he’s just so polite and when you say yes he blushes and gives you a gentle sweet kiss while holding your face

Otto: he probably took you out to look at the stars as a first date but he can’t stop staring at you and when you finally notice you smile shyly and are like “what” and he doesn’t saying anything he just leans over and kisses you

Doc Ock: oh doc would be so suave about it, he’d whisk you into his arms and hold you so close and passionately kiss you, thinking to himself “finally”

Harding: he’d caress your cheek, staring deeply in your eyes, almost hypnotic. He’d kiss you with all of his confidence and take your breath away

Edelweiss: he’d fake die so you have to give him cpr and then he just suddenly pulls you into his arms, rolls you over, and full on makes out with you

Chandler: oh my god ok ok ok I’m alright I just need a sec ok sorry guys just nearly died imagining this, because it’d be like Ricky but so much rougher, with him holding you close (maybe even holding you by your neck)

Big Boss: so since we don’t have much info on his character my (and @bluthsbananas) hc is that he’s actually a sweetheart (but also very horny) so he’d be trying to be such a gentleman so he doesn’t fuck up but then he can’t hold himself back and kisses you, then apologizes but you pull him back for another kiss

Andres: this man is so confident he’d saunter up to you, push your hair back, maybe run his thumb over your lip, and pull you in for a passionate kiss

Boris: oh he’s so shy you’d be the one to kiss him first, and holy shit does he think he’s in heaven

Dunlop: probably similar to Harold, but blushing like crazy like Boris would. Honestly I see them as being two peas in a pod

Arden: boy goes in sloppy with tongue because he hasn’t matured enough yet (yes I know he’s like forty or something close I like old men more)

Jim: he wouldn’t make the first move, because he doesn’t think a pretty thing like you would want to be with a reclusive old man like him, but he’s such a scruffy teddy bear you just have to smooch him

Jimmy: probably similar to Ricky honestly, except less mischievous. Like, walk you to the door, say he had a great time, awkward silence, then leans down and kisses you gently

Armand: he’s so respectful and sweet he’d ask if he could kiss you and then give you a passionate smooch

Manuel: my god he’d be super confident like Harding and probably convince you to kiss him because he wants you to choose him, mostly for his ego

Maxim: again, a super suave man that saunters up to you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, then kissing your cheek, pausing, and kissing your lips sorry I just saw that as like a film in my head and had to describe it as such because UGH

Hank: asshole toothpick man is filthy but he’d use just the right amount of tongue in your first kiss, probably while holding your waist really tight

Oswald: this depends, so if it’s Oswald I think he’d be a little nervous at first because holy shit a pretty person wants to kiss him!!! It’s soft and sweet and way too short for him

Dick: probably a little timid and shy, but he cups you face and strokes you cheek with his thumb and the kiss is just so soft and just UGH I LOVE DICK (lol)

[storybounded]

Oh my goodness. It has been a good few years since I've seen the live action of Lady and the Tramp. After I showed Twinnie, I vowed to never watch it again, so I had to remind myself why I wasn't a big fan of it with clips I could find. Because my mind basically blocked it out otherwise. Putting it under a read-more because this is going to get long lmao.

But my big take-away is the fact that OG tramp in the animated movie is street-wise but suave. And even if he had a obviously playful and trickster side to him that liked to cause chaos for fun of it, he had an air of dignity and scruffy debonair. A gentleman.

And despite his circumstances on the streets, he was still social and mostly well-liked by the the other street dog peers who talked of him. Of course, he won't get a long with everyone, but in the animated movie, it came across that he was pretty popular among other strays. Either for the way he helped them out of a tough spot, or how he was quite the lady's man.

And yeah, he is pessimistic about the life of a dog after a baby comes around, but it never bled into other facets of his personality.

LA Tramp is pessimistic and honestly extremely rude and solitary. A dick, long story short. The alarm bells that rang in my head the moment he showed his true colors on screen... and I knew this was going to be a twist I wasn't going to like. This was 10-13 minutes in the movie. First of all, There was that homeless puppy scene at the start. LA Tramp showed himself to be more possessive to the point of being an asshole. Not afraid to sling insults to LITTLE PUPS. Children, practically. And even if he eventually gave and gifted them their stolen sandwich, the insults did not stop there. Sure, those puppies were trying to hustle him for food, but there wasn't any excuse for him to be such fouled tempered.

I can't see the OG tramp slinging insults at puppies. TBH, he is a complete push-over with the little scamps. He would unashamedly use the baby-talk with them, and humor them with a little bit of play. It seemed like a daily part of his morning routine.

Then the dog - catcher scene with Peg and Bull came quickly afterwards. OH god, this is where we see the LA's ass-hole nature truly SHINE and one that I remember the most.

Whereas OG Tramp was HELLA concerned about his pals and immediately jumped into action and freed them...

Live action Tramp seemed extremely frustrated and acted as if his old pals were a burden on him. He did not jump straight in, and instead complained under his breath. In fact, he was WILLING to look the other way and let his friends be toted off to the pound if they hadn't already seen him. Peg and Bull literally had to talk their way into being freed and tramp still did not seem amused.

Another scene that I don't remember with fondness is the 'Rabies' scene. Like I UNDERSTAND that they could not have a animal fight in a disney live action talking-dog movie. It wouldn't have shed a good light on adopting dogs who need it. But instead, they took a route that made both Lady and Tramp look absolutely foolish and dumb. What was once a serious scene was turned into a joke.

She was already freaked out and not used to her muzzle, and the first thing he does? Called her annoying. Made her look bad in front of other strangers.

Lady is a dog who cares a lot for her image...but in the LA they made her go along with it and be okay with it. Made her roll around in trash and old unrefrigerated / dirty sausages, something the OG would've never done. She said she 'felt alive' after the fact. Yes, I am highly aware this was all for show to make the dumb dog believe his equally dumb lie, but... this rubbed me the wrong way. 🙃

But then he proceeded to be a bit of a jerk to her. Made it feel like they were 'even' rather than be respectful of her predictament.

Whereas in the OG movie, Lady was obviously still freaked out and downtrodden after Tramp came in to help, and did not in fact 'feel alive'. Tramp was worried and concerned, because this dog is used to the pampered life, and the last he saw her, she was happily at home. But now, she is out on the streets and is stuck inside a muzzle of all things? He felt pity and sad for her. He wanted to help her make it better.

I don't know, the LA didn't have the same impact. They could've not turned Lady's fears into a joke, but they could've also not done any fights either.

There are other problems I have with LA Tramp, but these are the main points I wanted to specify before I get long winded haha. But yeah, these are some of the many reasons why I don't like the new LA tramp. I might make a part two later, I don't feel like talking about this movie anymore right now LMAO.

The only points I'll give the LA movie are the cute doggos, and they have far more expressions than the L.ion L.ing LA LMAO.

[nysocboy]

Gemstones Episode 2.8: Baby Billy sees a ghost, Judy becomes a mom, and Kelvin gets....

This ain't the 1970s: In 1993 Memphis, Junior and his dad Glendon are watching midget wrestling featuring "heel" Chris Blanton.  Glendon thinks that it's the wave of the future, but Junior complains that it's old-fashioned.  He wants to liquidate their gambling operation to raise money for some big wrestling promotions:"This ain't the 1970s.  Wrestling has changed. You need big money to go after big talent." Glendon nixes the idea.

Next complaint: Glendon was going to leave Junior the business when he retired, but he never retires:  "Look at me, Daddy: I'm going gray with my dick in my hand."   Look at him, with his jaunty hand on hip, similar to after spending the night with Eli earlier this season.  He's got some femme mannerisms going on  I'm looking at a middle-aged gay man.

Glendon wants to know how he can retire when his idiot son has terrible ideas and does everything wrong?  "You hurt my feelings," Junior exclaims, starting to cry.  The boy gets hurt feelings a lot, doesn't he?   Glendon mocks him.  But he agrees that he's been holding on too long: let's liquidate the gambling operation.

We cut to Glendon being upset while Junior loads the slot machines into a truck for Mr. Dukare. Later, Junior counts the money, annoucing that they will triple it with their new wrestling promotions.  But Glendon has other ideas. Brandishing a gun, he orders: "Handcuff yourself to that inversion table and shut the fuck up."  He then moons Junior and leaves: "You ain't never going to see ths old ass again."  

Junior screams and cries. Glendon goes off to visit Eli and get murdered on Christmas Day, 1993.

They're just kids!: In the present, Martin visits the captured Cycle Ninjas in jail: a group of scruffy teenagers.  Sheriff Brenda tells him that they have fake ids, no fingerprints in the system, and they aren't talking.  Martin tries to use psychology: "We know who sent you. Now you tell us."  But it doesn't work; they just fart at him.

Cut to Baby Billy selling his health elixer in a nursing home. Afterwards the spirit of his sister Aimee-Leigh appears, and encourages him to visit his son Harmon, whom he abandoned in a shopping mall in 1993. "It's time," she tells him, and "You know I'm right."  He tells her to get lost.  Aimee-Leigh appears in the Seasons 1 and 3 finales, but doesn't interact with anyone.  I wonder if she is a hallucination here.

Eli's physical therapy:  Eli gathers the siblings, their partners, and Gideon to thank them for their role in his recovery.  Keefe is not present, but Eli tells Kelvin: "You and Queef have been such a help. I keep saying 'Go back to your house,' but you wouldn't hear it. You've stayed on, helping me get on my feet with physical therapy."  He gets Keefe's name wrong, but at least he acknowledges that Kelvin has a partner.  

Wait -- how could Kelvin administer physical therapy with his hand injury? I'm getting an image of Keefe being run ragged from caring for two invalids.  Surely there were nurses around, too. 

Of course, they had an ulterior motive for not going home: the God Squad has taken over their house.

Cleansing the Temple: Later that day, Kelvin and Keefe spy on the God Squad as they dance, fight with sticks, run wild on a golf cart, and..um... masturbate into a watering can?   "It's time to cleanse the temple!" Kelvin exclaims.  How could the God Squad control the house for several weeks with no one noticing? There's a housekeeping crew and regular security patrols.  This must be another chronological mishap.

The guys burst into the gym, knocking over things.  "This was a house of prayer, but ye made it a den of thieves!" Kelvin exclaims. Torsten orders the men to put Keefe back in the tiger cage, but Keefe tries to fight back, Kelvin yells "No one re-cages Keefe," and they relent. 

Next he reminds them of all the good he's done. Before joining the God Squad, Torsten was "a little doughboy" who still lived with his parents. "I chiseled you into the sculpture you are today." 

When Cody had cramps, Kelvin "crawled into his yurt and massaged him until sunrise."  A sexual reference, of course.  The guys stare at Cody, who shakes his head -- that didn't happen.  In a cult based on homoerotic desire, why would anyone disapprove of Cody and Kelvin getting busy?  There appears to be a major misunderstanding here. Many of the God Squad musclemen are straight alphas, in it for the muscles, just tolerating the homoerotic activity of Kelvin, his boyfriend, and the guys he invites to the steam showers.

Torsten challenges "the Messiah of the Muscle Men" to another cross raising to determine leadership.

Whoa, there used to be twelve musclemen -- now there are 23.  The cross used to be about ten feet high.  Now it's over thirty!

As Kelvin grabs the base of the cross, the casts on his hands fly off -- a miracle!  Although he is much smaller than the musclemen, he is able to raise the cross -- another miracle!  Keefe drops to his knees, apparently in worship.  He needs to decide whether he wants a boyfriend or a Savior.

When he has achieved "a proper erection," Kelvin orders the God Squad to get out of his house, then pulls Keefe to his feet.  They hug and do their weird forehead press thing, but don't kiss.  I guess it's been decided for him: Kelvin is the strongest, but not the Messiah, and Keefe is an equal partner, not his disciple. 

No lions, no tigers, no bears: We cut to Eli and his children rehearsing for his welcome-back service. Notice that Kelvin's shirt and jacket display no roaring animals, and his pants display no club-bulge. His obsession with demonstrating his erotic potency is over.  He has a job, a house, and a partner: he is a man. 

Later, Eli tells Jesse that he's grown, healed his family, demonstrated his leadership ability, so he'll give him the money to invest in the Zion's Landing Resort after all.  

But what about Junior -- won't he keep on trying to kill them?  "I think it's time you know the truth," Eli says.

He brings his children to the amusement park, and tells them about Christmas 1993. about Glendon Marsh holding him at gunpoint and Daddy Roy coming to the rescue, or maybe just shooting.  Afterwards, Eli wanted to protect his family, and worried that the scandal of having a murdering Dad would destroy his empire, so he and Martin buried the body under the roller coaster. 

Eli determines that the only way to protect his family from Junior is to come clean, tell him everything. Gulp -- he's already trying to kill you because you rejected his friendship.  What will happen when you tell him about his daddy being murdered?   The end.

The full version of this review, with nude photos and explicit sexual discussions, is on RG Beefcake and Boyfriends

[snezfics-n-shit]

Sicktember Day 20: Cramping Pain

Fandom: Ace Attorney Characters: Maya Fey, Phoenix Wright, Dick Gumshoe, Pearl Fey, Godot, Larry Butz, channeled!Mia Fey Notes: So this idea quite literally came to me in a dream last night so I am obligated to write it. Maya’s very clearly not doing so great during a long-awaited investigation reunion of sorts. She insists she’s fine, though, because it has been way too long since she’s had the opportunity to not only investigate with Nick but also see some familiar faces. Of course, it’s Sicktember, there’s no such thing as “fine!” Again, set post-SoJ for timeline purposes, no real big spoilers beyond T&T here, just that it’s been a good while since Maya and Nick got the chance for an old fashioned investigation. There are small mentions of background Magshoe, Fradrian, Miego, and past Feychols, but nothing really impactful on the story.

“... And that’s when he showed me his sword collection! One of them looked just like the one the Steel Samurai used in episode–” Maya’s retelling of last weekend’s events was once again cut off by a wince and instinctive press of both her hands on her abdomen.

“Maya, I’m starting to think you might not be feeling up to today’s investigation. You know, you can go back to the office any time and use one of the heating pads there. Athena and Trucy made sure the bathroom cabinet’s fully stocked, too…” Phoenix dug through his suit pockets to find the office key he was more than ready to hand over. Maya already had the original office key, but after an incident with Trucy attempting to pick locks while blindfolded, both the office door’s lock and key needed replacements.

“No, Nick, it’s not cramps like that! I’m on the pill, anyway.” Maya took a deep breath through clenched teeth as pain waved over her once again. “It’s kinda… worse,” she held up her right hand to stop Phoenix from interjecting, “but I can handle it! Trust me, Nick!” 

“Alright.” Phoenix had no intention of arguing with Maya, especially when they both were eagerly looking forward to this investigation. “Wait, I thought you weren’t allowed to go on the pill. Kurain politics and all that.”

“I’m breaking the cycle.” Maya shrugged with as much of a grin as she could muster. 

“Aw man, you were the one who broke my bicycle, pal?” The familiar voice of Detective Gumshoe joined the conversation, though he clearly lacked enough context. “I mean, it’s not that bad with my new salary, but I wish you would’ve told me!” 

“Detective Gumshoe!” Maya ignored the misguided accusation and ran into a hug with the scruffy detective. He wasn’t very scruffy anymore; in fact, it was so clear he had recently shaved that Maya could smell the aftershave on him. The strong chemical smell made her nose run, but she didn’t care. She missed the big guy so much! “It’s been forever! How’ve you been? How’s Maggey? How’s–” 

“Woah, woah! Calm down.” Gumshoe chuckled heartily. “Maggey and I have been doing fine. Missile’s been dealing with a bit of arthritis lately, but the vet said he’s in otherwise great shape.” 

“Aw, poor old guy.” Maya’s eyes wettened in sympathy. “I hope he’s not in too much pain–!!” Speak of the devil, her own pain was making itself known again. 

“Did I hug you too tight, pal?” Gumshoe stepped back to give Maya some space. He waited a few seconds to see if she would be alright, only for her to still be doubled over in pain.

“Maya!!” Phoenix couldn’t help but shout. A memory of his daughter flashed in his mind, prompting him to feel Maya’s forehead out of pure instinct. “Gumshoe! Get an ambulance! I think it might be her appendix!” 

“On it, pal!” 

. . . 

The nurses told him that she’d be fine, so why was Phoenix’s mind still playing a loop of everything that could go wrong? Was it because he should have figured out what was going on sooner? Was it because he remembered Trucy’s medicated ramblings about Houdini’s demise prior to her own appendectomy? The latter certainly didn’t help, especially when he was sure that was a moment his family could look back on with light laughter in the future. Clearly, whatever that future was hadn’t come yet. 

“Is Mystic Maya okay?” Pearl’s arrival and worried questioning brought Phoenix back to the present. “I would’ve come sooner, but Mr. Godot got pulled over…” 

It made sense for Godot to come with, now that Phoenix really thought about it. His relationship with Mia essentially made Maya family in all but blood. With the Kurain Channeling Technique, Mia’s death was hardly an obstacle for that, at least once Godot was finally free from the grasp of needing to find someone, anyone to blame for what happened. 

“Surgery wrapped up about a half hour ago. The last nurse I spoke to said she’s still asleep, but she should be fine.” Stating the situation aloud helped Phoenix to calm his own worries.  

“So help me if anything–” Godot started, but quickly calmed himself once Phoenix’s words registered and he saw Pearl’s relieved expression. “I’m, uh, glad she’s doing alright.” He corrected his initial angry tone. 

“Is it okay if Mr. Godot and I make a trip to the gift shop?” Pearl asked. “We saw some Pink Princess themed ‘Get Well’ balloons on our way here.” 

“Sure,” Phoenix nodded, “I’ll, uh, be here and let you know if we can see her once you get back.” 

. . . 

Phoenix wasn’t sure if Maya had woken up well before the last time he checked in with the nurse or Pearls and Godot just took a really long time buying nearly every Steel Samurai and Pink Princess themed item they could afford at the hospital gift shop. Either way, the three of them were not at all the first visitors Maya received. 

Larry was right there at Maya’s bedside, puzzling Phoenix because he was in such a rush that he hadn’t had an opportunity to inform anyone besides Pearls. 

“Nick!” A unison greeting from the two beckoned him closer. 

“Larry was reading one of his books to the kids in the hospital playroom.” Maya explained happily, but she still sounded groggy. “He was on his way out when he saw me in the window.” 

“Not a lot of people have a topknot quite like Maya’s.” Larry laughed before returning his attention to the recovering patient. “Franzy and Adrian hope you get well soon, by the way, and Edgey’s boarding a flight here as we speak.” 

“Please tell me you were at least aware of what was fully going on before you told anyone.” Phoenix pleaded, not wanting a repeat of the time Larry had nearly everyone convinced he had died after falling into Eagle River.

“Well, uh, not really…” Larry answered sheepishly.

“It’s okay! I’m okay with my condition being shrouded in mystery.” Maya smiled. “You need to lighten up, Nick.” 

That was easy to say when Maya wasn’t the one internally panicking in the waiting room over what sounded like a matter of life and death. 

“That reminds me, Pearls and Godot are here, too.” Phoenix gestured to the open door, not sure what was taking the two so long until the pair walking in did not include Pearl. Well, technically, Pearl was there, but…

“Sis!” Maya recognized Mia right away. 

“Mia?” Phoenix pulled his channeled mentor aside. “What about Pearls?”

“She figured Maya would want to see me first.” Mia handed over a Get Well card filled to the brim with Pearl’s handwriting. “She did a great job of filling me in, too. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She wiggled her arm free from Phoenix’s loose grasp and went back over to Maya’s bedside, which Larry happily stepped aside from to give Mia priority.

Godot stood next to Phoenix, giving him a look encouraging him to let the sisters have their moment. Even if Phoenix was a little intimidated by the close proximity, it was clear Godot had no hostile intentions toward him, which still felt almost foreign, if Phoenix was being honest.

“I’m gonna look so badass with this scar!” Maya beamed. It was almost like Mia’s presence alone boosted her energy significantly. “You know, when Penny and I were going out, I think she had a scar like this, too. I’m gonna text her a pic once I can get out of bed without feeling like I’m about to keel over.” 

“Sounds like you still need a lot of rest.” Mia observed. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”

“Noooooo!” Maya protested. “I was gonna watch the Samurai Series DVDs that Nick borrowed, that is, if he felt bad enough for me to finally return them.” Though she still wanted those DVDs back, her teasing was lighthearted.

“I returned them!” Phoenix interrupted to object.

“Not all of them!” Maya turned back to Mia and lowered her voice. “He’s been holding on to the Sniffling Samurai box set for way too long.” 

“Oh, has he?” Mia raised a brow. “A curious choice for someone you’ve told me swears up and down that the Samurai Series stopped being good after the Rainbow Samurai.” She shot Phoenix a devilish grin. 

“Alright, I’m going straight home to return them and grab the portable DVD player, too.” Phoenix threw his hands up. “Do you want anything else?” 

“Maybe some lunch?” Maya suggested innocently, almost too innocently. “The usual, please!” There it was, turning the suggestion into a demand.

Phoenix sighed and left, with Godot and Larry following him just after a wave and some goodbyes in order to give the sisters their time alone. 

“So, what else have you been up to, Maya?” Mia continued the conversation once the crowd left. “I’ve heard you caused a stir with some of the older folks back home.”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t believe!” Maya started. “See, it started a couple years ago when I decided…” 

The sisters went on to discuss all kinds of matters, filling each other in on various events. Maya spoke mostly about her efforts in making the village a better place, using her power as master whenever anyone tried preventing her hometown from trying anything new. Mia had some updates on the sights she was able to see while channeled by various trainees around the country; being a sort of celebrity within the Fey clan had its perks like that. 

When Phoenix returned with the lunch, returned DVDs, and portable DVD player, he simply quietly set the bags near the bed before heading out to let Mia and Maya keep chatting. 

What a lucky woman Maya was, to have a sister who refused to let even death itself prevent her from checking in on her when she was in the hospital. 

Not many people could say they had a sister like that, could they?

[gallaghersgal]

mags my love I am thinking about richie I love that old man I want to kiss him

hold his face and tell him to stop being a bitch I just

that's my old man I love him (maybe give him another kid WOAH)

-🌂

stop i need him so bad bye

just holding him by his scruffy cheeks and scolding him, that if he doesn’t stop being a dick to you then you’re gonna stop fucking him (fwb sitch) and he’s all “you wouldn’t” and you’re all “oh but i would” and it ends with him fucking you within an inch of your life 🤭🧚🏻‍♀️

[justmoreocs-writing]

A.J. surveyed the hall coolly. Part of her didn’t want to be here at all, wanted – craved even – the comfort of Gotham. But even that was changing. With the growing chasm between Dick and Bruce, with her need to finally stop avoiding the past in the hopes of letting it go to a certain degree, this had been the only choice. Yet the room full of people made her feel slightly sick. All of them would want introductions, hugs and handshakes and answered questions. Three of her least favourite things.

‘Amy?’

The surprise, the voice that was oddly familiar, caught A.J.’s attention quicker than the nickname itself. She turned, ready to question, but the confrontation caught in her throat as she spotted a scruffy blond haired young man. The smile was the thing that confirmed her suspicions though, it hadn’t changed at all. Probably never would.

‘Billy?’ she asked.

The grin grew as he easily weaved his way between some other freshers. He patted backs, greeted with a confidence she’d almost forgotten. A confidence that seemed to create a kind of protective bubble around him.

‘Most people call me Will now.’

‘Too old for Billy, hm?’ she asked as he stopped in front of her. The ease of contact he’d used to leapfrog his way closer fell away as he gave her a little extra space, unsure with how much things might’ve changed.

He shrugged. ‘Just kind of happened. What’re you doing here?’

A.J. shrugged, glanced around the room. ‘You know, just thought I’d drop by a social gathering and soak up my favourite atmosphere,’ she teased, completely deadpan.

A gentle nudge with the shoulder, a tentative gesture that she forced herself not to shy away from. ‘You know what I mean, Kane. Last I heard you were off gallivanting in America.’

‘Not exactly “gallivanting,” Billy,’ she said, folding her arms protectively around herself. The reason for the childhood move hung heavily in the air between them.

‘Why this Uni of all of ‘em?’ he asked, switching tact, careful to avoid the memories they’d called forth.

‘And miss out on the thrills of Essex by going elsewhere? I can fully appreciate them now I’m older,’ she countered easily, glad there was at least one vaguely familiar face amongst the crowd. Perhaps it might just make facing the ghost of her mother that little bit easier.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Pants Party!

Bat family x toddler!reader

DC Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Batman obeys no one, except for his toddler of course

Warnings: mentions of child abandonment, but overall this is just fluff, swearing

WC: 1.3k

Minors DNI

A crash followed by a giggle interrupted Bruce’s research. “Get back here!” “Jason what the hell!” “Shut it and help me catch the fucking demon!” “Don’t swear around the baby!” “Fuck off replacement.” The crack of a fist meeting a jaw sparked another round of shouting.

Bruce sighed and stood, his joints creaking. “I’m getting too old for this shit.” He muttered, trekking into the main house, following the trail of destruction that his children usually left behind. He grimaced, seeing one of Alfred’s favourite vases shattered on the ground.

He found his protégés in the movie room. Jason was throttling Tim as Dick tried to pull them off of each other, Damian was sitting on the large couch, smirking, little Y/N perched on his lap, laughing at her brothers. Bruce scooped the youngest up, making her squeal in delight at the sight of her father. Her small hands slapped against his scruffy cheeks, making him smile.

Y/N had been a surprise addition to the family. Damian had found her out on patrol one night. She had been barely a few days old, crying horsley in the empty apartment, obviously having been alone for a while. The young Robin had no hesitation in bringing her home and insisting that his father adopt her. Bruce smiled at the memory of his little boy, still in his suit yelling, “THIS IS MY NEW BABY SISTER! HER NAME IS Y/N AND IF YOU DON’T ADOPT HER I’M MOVING IN WITH GRAYSON!” It was wonderful to see how far he had come since first arriving at the manor.

“Boys, what’s going on?” They paused, Jason’s fist cocked back, Dick’s hand wrapped around his elbow, trying to stop him, as Tim had aimed his foot towards his older brother’s crotch. “Nothing.” They answered at once. Bruce raised one graying eyebrow. “I was trying to dress the baby, but she’s a slippery fucker so I was chasing her then these assholes tried to stop me.” Jason huffed.

Bruce looked down, and sure enough, his little girl was almost completely naked, save for the cloth nappy Damian insisted they buy her. She gave him a gummy smile, wiggling in his grasp slightly. “Stop swearing around the baby!” And the fighting started again. “Come on, let’s go get you dressed little lady.” Batman slipped out of the room, his little girl perched on his hip, trying to get a look at her bickering older brothers.

Y/N’s room was perfectly situated to be evenly spaced from each of the boy’s rooms but she almost never slept in it. Bruce had a bad habit of taking her from her bed when he got home from patrol and tucking her into his own, keeping her on his chest as they slept. Alfred had told him off for it so many times that he could recite the older man’s speech from memory.

Sure enough, there was a cute outfit laid out on her bed. The shirt made Bruce chuckle. It was an exact replica of Jason’s red hood uniform and he had chosen to pair it with some leggings covered in Wonder Woman’s symbols. “Alright, time to get some clothes on.” He laid her on the pink sheets, handing her the platypus plushie that was her absolute favourite in order to distract his daughter as he dressed her.

The shirt went on first, her little head poking through the top. Y/N made a face at her father and in retaliation, he lifted her shirt slightly and gave her a raspberry. “Daddy!” She squealed, slapping the top of his head. “Such a silly girl.” A smiled fondly, “A silly girl with a messy face.” He turned to get a wet wipe to clean the smear of chocolate off her cheek. He really needed to talk to Damian and Tim about feeding her so many sweets.

A small thump made him turn back around just in time to see a little foot disappear around the corner. Then a few seconds later, “There she goes again!” The one fucking day Alfred took off and everything went to shit. Bruce gathered up the rest of her clothes and staked after his daughter, her giggles carrying through the halls.

Y/N was running waddling as fast as her little legs would carry her, reminding her father of a baby penguin running across the snow. The boys scrambled over each other trying to catch her, much to Y/N’s delight.

They had finally cornered her in the library, still holding her platypus tightly, her chubby legs shaking with the exercise of having five vigilantes chasing her through the massive house. Bruce came forward first, holding out the pants. “Put your pants on.”

“No!” Tim was next. “Pants time!” Her head shook widely. “Noo!” “Come on baby bat! We’ll have a pants party!” Dick’s smile made her hide her face in her stuffed animal’s soft fur. “Nooo!” Jason shoved him out of the way. “You need pants.” He used his Red Hood voice but was met with another “Nooooo!” Damian sighed. “Put your pants on.” Her arms crossed over her chest as best she could while still holding the animal. “No!”

Simultaneously, the men buried their faces in their hands, frustrated by the girl. She took the opportunity to run through their legs and back out of the room. “Mother fucker!” Jason took off after her. “Come on!” Dick followed closely behind.

“Oh hello there young lady. What are you up to?” Y/N skidded to a halt in front of her grandfather, immediately dropping the toy and lifting her arms so he could pick her up. She babbled in his ear, making Alfred nod along as he walked back into the kitchen to continue making a cup of tea for himself. He set her down in her high chair and placed a cup of juice in front of her, interrupting her “talking” as she took big gulps of the delicious drink.

Crashes soon followed and Dick burst into the kitchen. “Master Dick, how many times have I told you not to run in the house.” Alfred scolded. “We were just looking for- oh there she is!” He rolled his eyes at his eldest grandson. Nightwing tried to lift Y/N from the chair but her little hands slapped away his larger ones, going back to her drink. “And why were you chasing this little princess?” “Princess? She’s a slippery little troll who doesn’t want to put on pants.”

Jason came up from behind and rubbed her head affectionately, which was met with a glare very similar to Batman's from the little girl. “Is that right?” Alfred raised his eyebrow, “You all are trained heroes who’ve taken down some of the most evil people in the world yet you can’t get a toddler to put on pants.”

The men hung their heads in shame and Alfred took the leggings from his son’s hands. “Y/N can you put on your pants for me and then we’ll make some cookies,” She opened her mouth, obviously trying to argue, “You can only have cookies if you put on your pants.” She babbled and only the word ‘daddy’ was articulate. Alfred nodded like he understood. “Yes, we can give the cookies to your daddy and brothers.” The toddler raised her arms up, Jason quickly lowered her to the floor.

She took the leggings from her grandfather, and clumsily stuck her legs into the holes, having Tim help her pull them up all the way. “Ta da!” She spread her arms, displaying her state of dress to her family before running at Alfred shouting. “Cook! Cook!” To which he gladly picked her up and set about gathering the ingredients for his famous chocolate chip cookies while the rest of the family sat and watched their baby bat try her best to talk and bake at the same time.

After that day, Bruce always kept a photo of them all together, Y/N completely covered in flour while smiling ear to ear, on his desk in the bat cave and Wayne Enterprises. None of his sons would admit that they always carried that same photo round wherever they went.

Taglist

@im-a-slut-for-fluff

[mercy-burning]

Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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[therealpontius]

Possible fuck

No sub or dom dynamics

Plot: you visit your best friends house to play some guitar hero…. Just some guitar hero…

Warnings: self deprecation, smutty stuff but no sex

You got your the keys from your pocket that unlock your best friends house, ryan.

You had been friends with ryan since you where 11 and he ment the world to you, you often got told that you acted like a married couple but you both just laughed it off.

entering the house you got smacked by the pungent smell Miller lite and what was either puke or body oder "ry!" You shouted, closing the door behind you. There was no call back as there usually was so you started walking around his small house seeing crushed cans of beer and old takeaway boxes but no sight of the scruffy ginger man.

Walking down to his bedroom you started loosing hope that he was in but you saw him sprawled out on his mattress that lay on the floor shirtless and clearly hung over. Kneeling down next to him you got out the chocolate donuts you got him and placed them on his tummy "hey ryan, wake up" his left eye opened slowly and focused on you "hey sweetie" a nickname he gave you awhile ago that just stuck "i brought some donuts" ryan lifted his head to where you had pointed to see a box of four unopened donuts "hey chocolate, my favourite!" You got yourself comfortable next to him, letting your feet warm up between his legs. You shared the box and you could see him slowly waking up "so what sort of partying have you been up to?" Your speach muffled from the donut getting devoured "partying? Partying my ass, pity drinking" he said dramaticly, you tilted your head "i was supposed to be hooking up with this totally hot babe but of course bam stole her with his 'charm'" you both scoffed in sync since it wasnt the first time this has happened "i dont get what they see in him, hes a total ass pube. Me on the other hand? Im charming, kind and i have a bigger dick. They probably regret it as soon at they see that puny thing" he had no hint of joke in his voice but you couldnt help but laugh "your right its fucking tiny" he shot you a look "how the fuck do you know?"

An hour later ryan was leading you upstairs to play guitar hero, going on about how much he loves it and whatever. You got to the stinky living room and ryan looked around "sorry for the mess sweetie" "its fine ry, honestly i dont care" you both took turns kicking the beer cans away from the small, musty couch to clear some space. Once it was, partially, clean you both slumped onto the couch and he turned on the tv, picking up the wii remote that sat on the couch and the plastic guitar that sat on the ground. You pulled your phone out, going through your contacts when ryan set up, hearing welcome to the jungle by guns and roses start the game it got you exited "i love this game" you added making him nod "yeah im like the big daddy of this game" he didnt think of what he said, you froze "the big what?" "The big daddy" "just... play the game"

25 minutes of back and forth classic rock songs and crouds cheering telling you that you rock and a slight awkward silence that was filled with ryans thoughts musted the air. "i dont see whats so wrong with me" ryans random self deprecation caught you off guard and you lost you 100 note streak "what?" Your tone didnt sound so intested since you where too concentrated on finishing this song "sorry, i just dont get why no girls want me you know? Like im famous, am i just ugly?" You paused the game "wow wow wow wheres this coming from?" Putting the guitar down you moved your body round to face him, his eyes where teary and his mouth was down turned "ry whats got into you?" He laughed and put his head down "sorry i killed the mood" you could tell he needed some cheering up, as much as this would be a way of hinting he was being genuine, he wasnt open about his emotions "talk to me about it, i wont judge, im not bam, ryan" you both giggled "yeah okay i guess. I guess its hard to sort of be in bams shadow like everything i do is with bam. Dont get me wrong i love that stupid fucker and together we are better than apart but it makes him get all the girls. 'Bam! Bam! Bam!' All the girls running for him and he loves it. What about me? I live in a tiny house and the only girl in my life is my best friend" his frustration reeked and his face was getting red "sorry i didnt mean that in a bad way" you shook your head and placed your hand on his shoulder "ryan i dont care, im proud of your for sharing your feelings, and i think your hot if it makes you feel better" his face went red and he looked away "heh thanks, lets play guitar hero"

The song finally finished and he played his, this gave you time to think of what you had said "why the fuck did i just call him hot, now when i look at him he isnt actually bad looking. Wait, ryans really hot. Holy shit what the fuck" your mind raced and the realisation that your life long friend was actually hot "did you mean what you said?" He said catching you off guard "yeah ryan, i did" ryan cleared his throat and his cheeks flushed "i think your pretty hot too sweetie" he didnt look away from the screen, acing every note that flew his way. You sat in a pool of shyness, what has gotten into you. "I mean i dont know if its just this occasion, man he looks hot when he concentrates. The way his hands strain to play the notes fast look so hot, ah fuck it" you thought, bringing your lips to his, pushing his face your direction softly

*CLINK CLINK CLINK*

The noise of notes failing and the singer singing alone as the guitar had stopped playing along, he moaned into you softly as you slithered your tongue in his mouth.

*BOOOOO*

The croud screamed at the shite concert, but you didnt care. Ryan was lying ontop of you inbetween your legs as you caressed his face feeling his mouth upturn "you finally done it sweetheart" he spoke making you pull your face away, he was smirking and his eyes adored you "cmon, ive liked you for so long" before you could awnser he continued kissing you, grinding his buldge against your wet heat. You could felt his bulge growing fast and you fiddled with his button as he continued to kiss you

"Hey ass fa-" you both turn around swiftly to see bam standing at the door with a girl, both mouths wide open as the sound of thousands of men booing continued from the screeen. The woman stormed out "i was going to say your little lady felt guilty about ditching you last night that she woudnt even do me but whatever" bam walked out slapping his hands against his thighs. Ryan stood up fast "no wait, lucy come back!"

You where left alone with a croud of men booing you and your best friend, now crush, running away from a possible fuck with you for a possible fuck with another girl.... WHAT A DICK

[queenxxxsupreme]

Protector (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

A/N: In most of my Arthur fics, if I mention the reader’s horse his name is Calvin and he’s blind in one eye so if you’ve noticed it that’s awesome! If you haven’t no worries! I just wanted to point it out before anyone gets confused. I’m not sure how many times I’ve mentioned it but I know in my head that’s how it is 😂

Warnings: Micah being a dick, no actual animal abuse but it almost happens, Micah roughly grabs reader but that’s it, nothing out of canon

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: You can defend yourself. Arthur knows this. But he makes sure Micah knows you aren’t the only reason he should keep his hands to himself.

***

You hummed softly to yourself as you helped Mr. Pearson prepare dinner. 

You looked up from the potato in your hand for a moment, eyes flickering around camp to take count of who was present. 

Mrs. Grimshaw had pulled Pearson away from his wagon and all the way to the other side of camp. Mary-Beth was sitting on a chair near her shared tent with the girls, busying herself with a book in hand.

 Abigail and Jack were towards the back of camp. Abigail was doing her best at keeping Jack occupied with the flowers growing in the grass back there. Molly was fixing her makeup in her tent at the center of camp.

 Micah was near the horses, messing with a saddle bag on his horse. Everyone else was gone. Today was one of those days that everyone was busy away from camp. 

“Son of a bitch!”

You lifted your head up from the potatoes you were peeling, turning your attention to where the horses were hitched. 

Micah stood by your horse, a gray Dutch Warmblood named Calvin. Micah was cradling his hand to his chest as he cursed, but then he looked at your horse and pulled his fist back as if to strike the animal. 

You were on your feet and crossing camp in a matter of seconds, grabbing the back of his coat and pulling him away from your horse. 

“Don’t you dare put your hands on my horse, Micah Bell.” You spoke through clenched teeth, holding the knife you’d been using to peel potatoes in your hand at your side. 

“That damn bastard of a horse bit me! Nearly took off my fucking hand!”

“Then don’t get close enough to him for him to grab you!” You raised your voice to match his, holding his gaze as he glared at you. 

Micah took a step towards you, knowing very well that he could use his height to appear more intimidating. But you weren’t one to back down so easily.

“Maybe if someone taught you a lesson in manners, that horse would behave better.”

“You don’t get to say shit about me and my manners, Bell.” You shook your head, pointing at him with the tip of the knife. “Don’t touch my horse, or I’ll put a knife between your ribs.”

You moved to return to the potatoes but Micah wasn’t about to let you off so easily. 

“Now see, girl, I don’t much care for that attitude you have.” He grabbed your arm and pulled you back around to face him. You didn’t even get a chance to use the knife to defend yourself because he’d grabbed the arm that you held the knife in. 

“Let me go, Micah.” You spoke through your teeth, glaring up at him. 

“Oh, Mr. Morgan isn’t here to save you, sweetheart. You’ve gotta face the consequences of your actions.” He smirked as he looked down at you. His grip on your arm was unbelievably tight and no matter how much you tried to get loose, you couldn’t seem to break free. “Don’t you raise your voice at me like I’m some little bitch of yours. I’m not your cowpoke. I ain’t scared of you, and I ain’t scared–,”

You cut him off by headbutting him. He immediately released you and stumbled back, cursing. 

“Don’t put your hands on my horse, Micah Bell.” You repeated your warning, readjusting your grip on your knife. 

“You think you’re big and bad because you’re sleepin’ with Morgan, don’t you?” Micah took a step towards you, wiping the blood from his lip. “Goddamned whore! Probably sleeping with half the fucking camp too!” 

“Micah!” Charles called his name. 

You turned your head to see Charles moving towards you and Micah. 

“Is she sleeping with you?” Micah pointed an accusing finger at Charles but Charles ignored him. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Charles asked you. 

“I’m fine, Charles.” You gave him a little smile, hoping that maybe he’d let the whole thing go. “Just had to have some words with Micah.”

“Looks like it was a little more than a few words.” Charles glared at Micah before following you back towards Pearson’s wagon. 

“Well, with someone like Micah Bell, words barely get through to him.” You returned to peeling potatoes. “Too damn stubborn.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

Just a few moments later, Arthur, Bill, Javier, and Lenny returned to camp, hitching their horses up beside Calvin. 

Bill tethered Brown Jack to the same post Calvin was on. 

“Be careful of Calvin, Bill.” Lenny warned, pointing to your horse. “He likes takin’ a piece off of whoever passes by too close.” 

You grinned a little as you listened to them joke around about Calvin. He was a sweet horse, he was just crotchety and being that he was blind in one eye didn’t help that either. 

“I think it’s just you boys he don’t like.” You spoke up as the small group made their way into camp. “Kieran can brush him down any time of day and Calvin is just as sweet as could be.”

“That’s ‘cause Kieran sneaks the old man treats.” Javier spoke as he sat down at the table not too far away from Pearson’s wagon. “Found out how to get to Calvin’s heart. Sugarcubes.”

“Oh, it’s just ‘cause Kieran’s a sweet kid.” You teased, eyes flickering up to watch Arthur. 

He grunted, shaking his head. 

“Ain’t nothin’ sweet about an O’Driscoll.” 

You finished cutting up the potato in your hand and then put the knife down. 

“Damn bastard!” Karen shouted as she hitched her horse to a post.

“Who are you cursing at, Karen?” Lenny asked. 

“Micah! He nearly ran right into me running outta this place!” She brushed her skirt off. “What’s got him all pissed off?”

“The wind probably blew the wrong way.” Arthur said. 

You chose to stay quiet. You turned your head to look at Charles. He was near the backside of Pearson’s wagon. His eyes found yours. You took a deep breath, shaking your head just slightly, then turned your attention to Calvin. He was okay, you knew that, but you couldn’t help feeling the need to make sure he was okay. 

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” You wiped your hands off on a rag and set it on the table before making your way towards the horses.

Arthur took note of your behavior. You usually were the first one to poke fun at Micah, to comment on his antics. It was unlike you to stay silent when his bad attitude was brought up. 

Arthur sat down in the seat you’d previously been in, absentmindedly scratching his scruffy jaw. 

Seeing that Javier and Lenny were engaged in a conversation of their own, Charles moved to Arthur.

“Arthur?”

“Hey, Charles.” Arthur greeted him.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Arthur nodded and followed Charles towards the lake away from everyone else. 

“I didn’t see everything, but I was coming back from switching out guard duty when I saw Micah had ahold Y/N’s arm.” 

Arthur’s eyes darted across camp to you. 

“Don’t worry, Arthur. She’s okay.” Charles assured him. “I just wanted to tell you because I don’t trust Micah. I don’t know if he’ll do anything or what he was trying to do. I don’t know what goes through that man’s head, and I don’t want anything to happen to Y/N.”

Arthur let out a heavy breath, running his hand over his face. Anger bubble in his veins. 

“He’s a snake, Arthur.” Charles spoke quietly.

“I know he is, Charles.” Arthur shook his head, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Did you…. Did you see him put his hands on her in any other way?” 

“No. All I caught was him holding her arm and she headbutted him. Caught him right in the nose and mouth.”

“He didn’t hit her or nothin’ did he?”

“Not that I saw.”

Arthur nodded his head, letting out a heavy breath through his nose. He put his hand on Charles’s shoulder, nodding his head once, then moved across camp. 

***

You approached Calvin on his right side so that he could see you. His left eye was the one that was blind and he didn’t react well to anyone coming up to him from that side. 

“Hey, handsome.” You cooed, smiling softly as you reached out to rub his nose. He huffed and leaned into your touch. Your touch moved along his neck and down his side, then to his hindquarter. “My good boy, huh? Just don’t like no one else, do ya?”

“Think you have a thing for grumpy old fellers.” 

You looked up to see Arthur rubbing Taima’s nose. 

“I like the challenge that comes with the grumpy ones.”

He chuckled.

“You, uh, you know why Micah left like he did?”

“No.” You shook your head, moving around to Calvin’s blind side. “But it’s hard to tell what’s going through that man’s head.”

“Just thought maybe you’d know since you were here with him.” Arthur thought at loud.

You shook your head. You could feel his eyes on you, studying you like a book. 

“You’d tell me if something happened, wouldn’t ya?”

Your eyes flickered up to meet his. You were quiet for a few moments, locking your jaw. 

“Charles told you, didn’t he?”

Arthur nodded silently.

“He almost got a knife in his gut. He raised his fist like he was gonna hit Cal ‘cause Cal bit him. But I had it under control. No need to worry. Micah’s just a sour bastard. Don’t like being told off, especially not by a lady.”

Arthur let out a sigh. 

You gave Calvin a loving pat on the shoulder and moved to go back to Pearson’s wagon. 

“I don’t like leavin’ you here at camp with him.” Arthur followed behind you.

“I know you don’t, but you don’t have much of a choice.” You washed your hands and started to get back to work. 

His hand wrapped around your wrist and he carefully pulled you back around to face him. 

“Don’t egg him on when I’m not here.”

“I can fight my own fights, Arthur. And I’m not gonna let him hit my horse-,”

“That’s not what I’m sayin’, Y/N.” He cut you off, looking down at you. “If he ever put his hands on you, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill ‘em.”

“I know.” You placed your hand on his chest. “I know. But you, Arthur Morgan, also know that I can kick ass just as good as any man here. You shouldn’t worry so much.”

“I’ll always worry.” Arthur took your hand and brought it up to his lips. “Micah’s a snake.”

“Worrying is bad for such an old man’s heart.” A grin tugged at the corners of your lips as you moved away from him. He allowed you to slip away, watching you return to your chair by Pearson’s table. 

Arthur chuckled at you, shaking his head. 

***

Arthur settled back into bed, getting comfortable while you changed into a chemise and fixed your hair for the night. 

“I think I gotta go to Strawberry tomorrow.” 

“What for?” You slipped on your chemise, pulling it down over your head and into place. 

“Dutch said there’s someone there who has information on a train comin’ through.” Arthur tucked one hand behind his head and watched you turn to face him. His eyes flickered down to look over you. 

Though the lighting from the lamp wasn’t the best, he could see an odd marking on your bicep just above your elbow. It was darker than the rest of your skin and seemed out of place. 

Arthur sat up, brows furrowing together. 

“Come here a minute, pumpkin.”

“What?”

“Just come here.” He patted the bedside next to him. 

You moved to sit on the edge of the bed, confused but unaware of what he had seen.

Now that he was close enough to see just exactly what they were, he could tell they were bruises. 

You looked down to see what he was looking at. 

“What is that?” You furrowed your brows together.

“Looks like finger shaped bruises.” Arthur just barely brushed his fingers over the markings. “Micah’s lucky I don’t cut off his goddamn hands.”

“Don’t, Arthur.” Your eyes shot up to find his. “I’m serious.”

“I am too.” Anger clouded his blue eyes, making them a stormy gray instead of the pretty vibrant blue you adored so much. 

“He ain’t worth you gettin’ in trouble, Arthur. I probably broke his nose anyways.” You stood up. “Let’s go to bed.”

Arthur was silent as he laid back down and you climbed into bed with him. You curled up against his side, resting your head on his chest. 

“Just don’t want nothin’ to happen to you, pumpkin.” He murmured, kissing the top of your head. 

“Nothin’s gonna happen to me.” You assured him. 

***

Once Arthur was sure you were asleep, he put his clothes back on and slipped out of his tent. 

He looked around camp, spotting a small group gathered around a campfire near Pearson’s tent. He could spot Dutch, Hosea, Javier, Bill, John, and most importantly Micah. 

Arthur took a deep breath, fighting the urge to cross the camp and start throwing punches at Micah. 

Instead, he calmly made his way to the fire and sat down on the log next to John. 

“Thought you went to bed.” John commented. 

“Nah, can’t sleep.” Arthur shook his head. 

“Arthur! So glad you could join us!” Dutch’s voice was unnecessarily loud. Arthur hoped you wouldn’t wake up. 

“Hi, Dutch.”

“Thought you and Miss Y/L/N had gone off to bed for the night, cowpoke.” Micah offered him a beer but Arthur declined, lips pressing together in a tight line. “What happened?”

“Figured I’d stay up a little longer. Spend some time with you guys.” Arthur forced a smile on to his lips. “Don’t get to do that much anymore, do I?”

“No, as a matter of fact you don’t. You’re either off playing hero or-or…. or your off playing hero.” Bill swayed in his seat. He had too much to drink. 

“Or you know, you’ve got certain people around here up your ass.” Micah shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t have time to sit around and drink with your brothers.”

John furrowed his brows, looking over at Micah. 

“What the hell are you talking about, Bell?”

“Shut up, Marston.”

“You know what? Maybe you’re right.” Arthur tilted his head to the side a little as he looked at Micah. “What happened to your nose? I’ve never noticed it was so crooked.”

Micah scowled. 

“Or maybe it’s not.” Arthur shrugged his broad shoulders. “Maybe I just never got a good look at it.” 

“My god, Arthur, I think you’re right.” Hosea leaned forward as if to take a closer look at Micah’s nose. “Looks absolutely terrible, Micah. You might need to get that checked out.”

“Go to hell.” Micah started to stand up. 

Arthur stood up too, stepping towards Micah. 

“The next time you think about putting your hands on Y/N or her horse, the least of your concerns is gonna be her breakin’ your nose or pullin’ a knife on you, you hear me?” He spoke lowly. 

Micah held his gaze for a few moments before turning and skulking away. 

Arthur turned back to those who sat at the fire. Everyone was silent and didn’t know what to say. 

“Is Y/N okay?” Hosea asked. 

“She’s fine.” Arthur muttered, clenching his fist together. “I don’t like that fella.”

“Don’t think many of us do.” John sighed, standing to his feet.

Taglist: @winterwolf @doggone-cowgirl @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @nonodino @krenee1drful @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @thecollection @mayday1284

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[flying-ryan]

birthday first time- prelude

from 1, 2

Ryan couldn’t help the way he chuckled into Luca’s mouth. For all intents and purposes, he had every reason to believe the boy was actually trying to devour him. And he was just fine with that. But he was old enough to know the difference between a quick burn and a sweet, slow roast. This was the thought that had him catching Luca’s hungry hands, peeling his almost-claws from the fabric of the pilot’s shirt as his anxieties spilled between them.

“I’m sorry! I just really like you and I thought you-”

“Luca.” The pilot released the boy’s wrists only to capture his small face between tattooed hands as their eyes locked. Ryan couldn’t name the swirling storm in his chest but he prayed that Luca could see it or feel it in the ways he wanted him. “I’m not going anywhere, darlin. I’m all yours. All night.” 

Luca whimpered at the heat between them, body sagging more fully into Ryan’s arms. “Blake. I need you.”

“I ken what ye need, boy.” He let a heavy hand slip into Luca’s curls, tugging gently just for emphasis before using the other hand to pull him closer. He nosed over Luca’s soft cheek, smiling at the eager way the boy kept trying to catch his mouth while he whispered. 

“Luca, if we do this, I’m no gonnae be able to let ye go. I dunnae ken how it is or why it is but I know that the way I want you- bonnie boy, it’s the strongest thing I’ve ever felt.” He wasn’t sure why his eyes stung or why his chest hurt. Or why his voice suddenly sounded so small. “Don’t let me have you if I cannae keep you this time.”

Fear, he realized with a start. Fear was the name for the cold claws working their way in his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so completely vulnerable or so completely afraid. The irony of it stemming from a tiny, lovely, sunshining popstar wasn’t lost on him.

“Luca, I’m yours. I love ye. I belong to ye.” His thumbs smoothed over the boy’s soft cheeks and both sets of eyes stung with tears. “But yer still so young. There’s so much out there-”

“I’ll still see what’s out there.” Luca cut him off with kisses, practically climbing the older man as he scrambled to settle in his lap. “I’ll see it all right next to you.”

“Luca.” Ryan’s soft sob was so unlike him and he burned with shame. He’d never been so grateful for the privacy of walls. He buried his flushed face into Luca’s neck, stooping and pulling the boy closer still, even as he spoke of pulling apart.

Luca wouldn’t hear it. “I want you, Blake,” he repeated through kisses. His soft hands roamed under the pilot’s shirt, over the rock hard length pinned behind his tight jeans. “I know what I want and it’s you.” He squeezed what he could reach of the pilot’s dick, forcing a broken groan from the much older man. “See? You want me too.”

That time the pilot growled, knocking the boy’s hands away from him only to grab the brown skin of Luca’s exposed hips, turning his back to Ryan’s chest and walking both of them against the nearest wall to press Luca into it. “I want you more than fucking anything.” The feral sound that came out of him as he rolled his hips against Luca’s denim-clad ass - the ass he’d dreamed about only to wake up sticky the next morning - was as much pain as pleasure when the boy braced his upper half against the wall, arched his back and moved to meet the pilot’s hungry thrusts.

Only minutes ago he’d meant to insist they take it slow. It was frustrating to feel so out of control of his own self but every time Luca was near he never knew what he’d do next. He wanted to take his time. He wanted to make love to his boy with his mouth and his hands long before his dick came to play and he told Luca as much as he fucked against him, separated only by the layers of their clothing.

“Luca, baby.” Ryan’s mouth trailed scruffy kisses, biting and sucking at the least conspicuous places on the popstar’s neck. “Do you need me as much as I need you?”