#cw: age gap

[soleilapproves]

John Price never really understood your humor. But it was the same for most older people. Especially when it came to someone as detached from the internet as John. It was a good thing your boyfriend had you to keep him updated with whatever new ridiculous term or phrase was popular.

“I can’t hang out today–nature’s punishing me for not being pregnant.”

It started as a fleeting joke. Something you and your friends always said whenever it was that time of the month. It had been ingrained into your entire group’s vocabulary after years of use. Now, it was just a casual way of saying, ‘hey, I got my period.’

It was odd to him at first. Why would the trees care if you’re not pregnant? he asked with a confused face, prompting you to giggle and kiss his bearded cheek. Fifteen minutes later, the man was enlightened on why you were blaming nature–Mother Nature to be more specific. You expected him to forget about it afterwards (like he did with most slang), but what you didn’t expect was for him to take it seriously. Not in the way you thought at least.

You were expecting more care from him–tip-toeing when you were sleeping, not cooking meat while you felt nauseous, and buying ample sweets and unhealthy snacks for you to munch on while crying over silly romcoms.

But instead, you received more sensual touches and lingering stares at your lower abdomen. You’d often have to push him away from your sore and tender breasts. “You wouldn’t be so uncomfortable if you were pregnant, you know,” he’d often joke, making you choke or spit out whatever was in your mouth. He’d massage your back and take small breaks to palm himself as he imagined you requesting a massage because your belly had been feeling too heavy lately.

It was all too much. Too surprising. The two of you had never spoken about children, yet you felt like you had unlocked a different side of him. A side that was hidden away for your safety because now, the man was convinced that you needed to be with his child to satisfy Mother Nature.

“I don’t think we should disrespect Mother Nature like that. Don’t you agree, love?” he mumbled into your ear as he parted your legs with his big, rough hands. “I don’t wanna see you in pain. You’ve been punished enough.” He kisses your neck with fervent need–a deep and dark desire to fill you with his seed. You sluggishly try to push his shoulder to get him to stop leaning over you. “John–”

But the man’s strength prevents him from budging an inch. “Shh, none of that. You’ll take everything I give you,” he says as his cock nudges your entrance.

[fuctacles]

<< ok fine i give up i lost track of the cat emojis. this is part 8 | 9 >>

Eddie wakes up late the next day but isn't surprised to find his uncle sitting at the kitchen table with a coffee and a crossword puzzle in front of him. Tormenting his nephew has been his favorite pastime now that he is stuck at home, so of course he would wait for him to emerge from his room.

"Didn't catch you coming back last night. Must have left Stephanie's awfully late, huh?" he asks nonchalantly, tapping his pen against the paper without looking up. 

"Mhm," Eddie hums, reaching for his favorite mug. 

"Did Miss Stephanie arrive late?"

"She did." He tries to focus on making coffee, and not on his uncle's prying questions. 

"Did she hold you back?" the man presses, unrelenting.

"We talked for a bit," Eddie eventually admits.

"How long?"

He fills up his mug with a frown before turning towards his uncle. 

"What is this? A crime interrogation?" he raises his eyebrow with annoyance. 

"I don't know." Wayne shrugs, finally looking up from his crossword to study his face. "Has a crime been committed?"

"I'm not banging your neighbor," Eddie hisses at his father figure with disdain. "Stop asking about it!"

His uncle sighs but seems to accept his defeat, at least for now. 

"All I ask is that you keep an open mind. I don't think she'd be against the idea," he gives his last two cents before hiding behind the newspaper like a coward. "I know you're not," he adds under his breath.

Eddie barely catches it, but it makes his skin crawl with heat. He's beyond denying it at this point but he won't admit it either. If Stephanie ever makes a move, he won't say no, but he doesn't want to presume anything. Or worse, make her uncomfortable.

"I'm going to my room," he declares, carrying his coffee away.

A couple of days later, Eddie is standing in front of a hair salon, staring at the handwritten note on the door. 

We close at 4 PM today, sorry for the inconvenience!

The opening times above declare that on weekdays, the shop should be open an hour longer, and Eddie worries that he misunderstood Stephanie's words. She told him to come in around 4 PM and she'll give him a haircut. But through the glass door, he can see her swiping the floor while talking to another hairdresser, a tiny woman who's cleaning up her station. It looks like they're closing up.

Then Stephanie looks up and spots him standing there like a dumbass, and she smiles, motioning him inside. So he pushes the door, moving the tiny bell above as he walks in. 

"Hi," he says, nodding to the unfamiliar woman. "Am I too late? Or too early?" 

Stephanie shakes her head, quickly putting the broom away. 

"You're perfectly on time," she assures him. "You can leave your jacket there and pick whichever chair you like. Do you want something to drink? Tea, coffee, water?" she asks, already halfway to what he assumes is the backroom.

"Coffee would be great," he says a little stunned, shaking his heavy leather jacket off his arms. He feels extremely out of place in a space usually frequented by gossiping ladies. In the waiting area, there's a stack of fashion magazines on top a tiny round table, and two huge colorful armchairs. He throws his things on one of them before sauntering to the station that's furthest away from the street, wary of the peering eyes.

There are some in the salon with him, though. 

"So you're Steph's special guest, huh?" the other co-worker asks conversationally. 

"Uh, I'm just her neighbor," he corrects, not sure what the woman has been told.

She hums, giving her station a thorough wipe.

"She wouldn't close early for just any neighbor," she counters. "Give yourself some credit." She smiles at him through the mirror and disappears into the backroom before he can react or even process her words.

"Sorry for the wait!" Stephanie joins him soon after. "I hope Joyce didn't grill you much," she says, putting a mug of coffee in front of him.

"Well," Eddie wraps his hand around the hot ceramic. "She just called me your special guest." He wants to pry much more than that, but he knows the other woman, Joyce, can be within hearing distance. 

"You kind of are." Stephanie tilts her head thoughtfully, before turning his chair around, so they can only look at each other through the mirror. "All my friends get special treatment."

"Of course," Eddie nods, torn between being happy and devastated by being called a friend. 

"Unless you don't want to be friends with an old lady," she pouts.

What he wants is to suck on that bottom lip. 

"You're not old!"

He startles when his voice is echoed, but it's just Joyce emerging from the back. She moves the jacket and bag she's holding to free one of her hands and smacks Stephanie on the shoulder. 

"Listen to the boy if you're not gonna listen to me," she says heatedly. "If you're old then I should be dead. Now come here."

With an exasperated sigh, Stephanie leans down so Joyce can press a kiss on her cheek. 

"I'm leaving, you kids don't do anything unsanitary, okay?"

"Joyce!" 

She moves like a hurricane of energy and despite her teasing, Eddie can't help but smile. Joyce seems like the kind of person who treats everyone like her kids. 

"What are you doing?" Stephanie asks suspiciously when Joyce hesitates by the door. 

"I'm just gonna..." she trails off before starting to pull down the blinds on both the door and the windows. "So nobody bothers you two," she explains with a charming smile. "Okay, bye!" the bell finally chimes as she heads out. "I'll see you tomorrow!" 

"See you!" 

Eddie barely lifts his hand for a wave before there's just the two of them. 

Stephanie breathes out and walks up to the door to lock it. The fact that they are now alone and hidden in a public space makes him hot under the collar. She could do to him anything she wanted right now. 

Like cutting his split ends and conditioning his hair, of course. 

"So." A radio buzzes to life, though it gets immediately turned to a lower volume. "As the one forced to sit there and endure my treatment, you get to pick the station," Stephanie smiles at him and he instructs her to his and Wayne's favorite frequency. The soft that starts playing is very quiet, and with the closed-off space he's found himself in, he feels like he's tripping. 

"Do you have anything in mind?"

So many things but nothing appropriate to say out loud. 

"Didn't you have a plan for me?" he raises an eyebrow at her reflection while she's thoughtfully tugging on his hair. 

"Yes, but mostly haircare. And I don't know what's popular in the metalhead hair fashion right now."

He chuckles at that.

"Just keeping them long and adding some tease now and then. Nothing as extreme as punk's liberty spikes," he assures. 

"Gotcha. But if you think of anything, let me know."

"You got it," he smiles. 

i feel weird tagging only one person here but: @wheneverfeasible

[degenerata69]

Yet again, with another Stancest prompt for y'all. This time, with some age gap.

So Mullet Stanley and Paranoid Ford are fighting, and Stanley falls into the portal, but instead of going to another dimension, he goes back in time to New Jersey, three months after being kicked out.

The first thing he wants to do is to look for himself, so he finds El Diablo in the parking lot he used to stay in, but there is no one, so he figures that they exchanged places. He hopes that Ford will bring him back soon, but he starts debating if he should talk to Ford from this dimension. He was the one who built the portal, so he should know something and maybe give him some bandages from the scar him from the future gave him.

Meanwhile, Paranoid Ford is having a panic attack, feeling guilty that he burned his brother's flesh and made him fall into the portal. He tries to turn it on and sees a silhouette that is coming out. But it is not his Stanley. Rather, a young but neglected one. One who he abandoned 10 years ago.

He was drunk off his ass and any attempts to talk to him were useless. Once young Stanley realized it was Stanford, he just rambled even more. Talking about how he was about to suck someone off in exchange for some gas money. Hearing the confession made him forget about the anomalies, Bill, the destruction of the universe, and anything resembling fear, rather changing to anger.

He questioned Stanley about it, how long he had been doing it, and why he wanted to do it. The younger twin just answered it would have been the first time if he got to the man to the bathroom instead of the future, and he'd figure that the only meaningful skill he had was to suck his brother off so might as well make it a profit.

"Well, if you want to perform oral sex for the sake of shelter, might as well do it with this twenty-something-year-old scientist," that statement made young Stanley grin, clumsily unbuttoning Ford's pants. He wasn't sure if it was his brother, but he didn't care. He just wanted to be loved.

Well, that's part one, I'll work on the rest of the prompt when I get home.

IDK if this is implied, but given my busy schedule, most likely, I won't be able to turn all my prompts into actual fanfics. So, if you want to use these prompts, you are more than welcome to do so, I only ask for credits as inspiration 😁.

[gamesetart]

has anyone seen that old movie the crush? im thinking of something similar rn with patrick... (without all the going crazy and manipulation and the underage stuff)

your parents have a big house. a gorgeous country home, complete with a stable, for you horses, a back garden with a pool and a tennis court, and, of course, a guest house. a spacious little one-bedroom located literally within spitting distance from the main home.

and you - home for the summer, sophomore in college, headstrong, pretty, interesting, a sports medicine major - you were supposed to move in there. it's embarassing to be your age (a precocious twenty) and still living in your childhood bedroom, for godssake! but, at the last minute, your father tells you you can't. which is absurd: you've never been told 'no' in your life, why on earth should he start now?

well, after two weeks of complaining, whining, begging, bargaining, and straight-up threats, your answer arrives. arrives in the form of a single black suitcase and one heavy sports bag. arrives in the form of a tired, scraggly looking man parking his fucked-up car in your gorgeous gravel driveway, right next to your perfect, pristine white vintage mustang. it's insulting.

your guest house is occupied. by son of family friends, sort-of professional tennis player, patrick zweig. you hate him instantly. hate that because of him, you're confined to your stupid childhood bedroom, with your stupid baby-pink walls your mom won't let you change, your canopy bed with the gauzey curtains. you hate that your parents invite him in all the time. you hate that he drinks your coffee and eats your food. you hate that he found your contraband stash of cigarettes and weed, and you hate that you know he stole some, because you counted, and that you can't confront him about it in case he tells your parents.

and you hate how he's hot. hate that he plays tennis on your court, damp curls sticking to his face, sweat running down his tanned, toned arms, stupid shorts clinging to his thick, hairy thighs... you hate that he swims in your pool in nothing but his underwear. you hate that he has these bright blue eyes, almost green in certain lights, the pupils ringed with a hazelish, almost golden halo. and you despise how those eyes look at you, like he's going to fucking eat you.

not like he doesn't hate you, too. he hates how you parade around like you own the world. he hates how you are: too smart for your own good, too aware of it for everyone else's. he hates how you've obviously never been told no until the guest house. he hates that you're a know-it-all brat.

and he hates you (and himself, a little, but mostly you) for being so damn attractive. he hates that he'll come home, from a run, or a bad date, or something, and find you in a clean white tennis set - ralph lauren, or lacoste, or some other bougie brand mean less for atheltics and more for style - lazily serving to no one. he hates that you'll read by the pool, austen and shakespeare and poe, in your little bikinis, sucking on a lollipop, or, if your parents aren't home, smoking a cigarette. he hates when you get dressed up because your parents are throwing yet another party, hates you in your babydoll dresses and your sweet skirts and your sweetheart necklines.

like you don't know what you're doing to him.

the funny thing is, both of you are smart enough to see that the other is physically attracted to you, but you're both too proud to admit it goes both ways. so you strut around in tiny tennis skirts and bikinis. he swims in his underwear and comes in in nothing but a towel to steal from your fridge. waiting for the other to break, to snap, to trip up and fall. if patrick breaks first, you get to laugh and call him a dirty old perv for going after you - he's like, a decade older than you, for christssake! - and if you break first, patrick gets to bully you open on his cock, make you cry, finally bring you down a peg.

just a matter of time.

[ofmermaidstories]

speaking of old men, i have a age gap bakugou x reader idea up my sleeve that im never going to write bc it makes me too sad LMAOOOO. but sometimes i think about bakugou being grumpy and old…. having to contend with the reality that he is being replaced………… bakugou i love u in any form.

[slimypaws]

Twilight x Celestia. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER, YOUR HONOUR.

[sp00nful0fsuga]

FeatherCrow i love you

[venusandsaturnsrings]

ringing my lil bell… every1 round up!! dilf tartaglia!!

he’s tall, muscular with a bit of chub, and the perfect amount of stubble lining his face. with big hands and a cock to match how could you ever resist him? only a fool would pass up a man such as himself!!

one of his favourite things to do was bury his face between your thighs after a long day. sometimes it was work got the best of him or his adorable daughter or the long process of his divorce; he’s a hardworking man yet life still got the best of him occasionally. regardless, using his tongue and fingers to spread you open and drink the delightfully bitter juices from your cunt was the perfect end to all of his days. to him you were a fountain of pure pleasure and undivided bliss. for you and your pussy to be ready for him to unwind gave him a feeling of fullness and satisfaction nothing could ever compare to.

he’d take his time stripping off the fancy baby pink lingerie he bought you. all of the ruffles and lace were just so sweet and endearing he had to save them for you to lounge around in, ripping them apart would take away such a beautiful sight from his grasp. with one finger he’d ease you open while his mouth suckled softly along your labia and clit. your own wetness was more than satisfactory but he loves it messy so adding liberal amounts of his drool to the mix made you impossibly more enticing. he’d work you up to taking two of his thick fingers all whilst delivering the most delightfully strong pleasure to the rest of your precious cunt with his mouth. his goal was forever and always to end up with you squirting generously onto his face. with rough stubble rubbing against your thighs you’d certainly end up with marks for days to come but the way the pain intertwined with the pleasure would make your stomach churn in delight.

he’s a busy man with much on his plate but he always had time to abuse his sweet girls pussy.

[perelka-l]

Drayton doodles uwu mostly shippy lol

[fuctacles]

<< nine | 😺 | eleven >>

Posting early so you have something to think about on Thanksgiving. I'll be taking a break from posting my wips in December to focus on all the events. Speaking of, check out @genderthings @stmonstercalendar and @stevieweek

"They're so—" Eddie's sentence is broken with a yelp when Stephanie slaps his hands. 

"Fluffy?" Steph offers, going back to closing up her salon. "Soft? Healthy? They won't be if you keep touching them."

He huffs, slotting his hands under his armpits so he wouldn't be tempted to reach up. 

"If you want, I can get you some of that conditioner to take home. You could charm all the city girls with your nice hair." She turns to him with a smile, looking over her work once again. She pulls a strand of his hair back in place and Eddie imagines his band making it big, touring with a private hairdresser fussing over him before every concert. They'd take all the cats on the tour bus too.

"The city girls like my unkempt poor artist looks, thank you very much," he jokes. "The boys may appreciate it, though."

"For the boys, then." She smiles. "Did you walk here?"

He shakes his head. 

"Nah, I'm too lazy for that. You?"

"I try to walk to work as long as the weather lets me," she says. "Need to keep the old bones in shape." She pats her plush thighs distractingly, but it's not enough for Eddie to miss her words. 

He rolls his eyes. 

"Your bones aren't old. I was gonna offer you a ride, but maybe you deserve to walk since you're so young and energetic," he sends her a wry look. 

"Ah, but I always wanted a ride in a big old kidnapper van!" She bats her eyelashes at him, her playful pout in full swing. Eddie is so, so weak. 

"Don't call it a kidnapper van." He scrunches his nose. "It's a stoner slash garage band van," he corrects her.

"Ah, mea culpa. Lead me to your stoner van, then?"

"You call yourself old and yet you act so insufferable," he shakes his head with a smile and offers her his elbow. 

"Gotta keep something about me young," she jokes back and then yelps when Eddie pinches her in the side as she grabs his arm. 

"I think there's plenty young about you," he says, giving her a pointed up and down. 

"Yeah, bet you say it to all the old ladies," she snarks back. "When you help them cross the street or carry their—ah!"

"Oh my gods, Stephanie!" Eddie cuts her off, pressing her against the side of his van. "If you think you're old then call me a geriatrophiliac, because you're so hot I can't think about anyone else."

Steph's eyes are wide and her cheeks are flushed and he wants to kiss her so badly. He backs away, though, because he's a gentleman (sometimes) and wants to give her some space. Besides, he probably just crossed some lines he shouldn't have. 

She breathes out once he steps back, and chuckles. 

"You're just saying that," she deflects, making something in Eddie boil. "You're out there in college and I'm stuck here with my small hair salon."

"Oh, you mean you're a successful hot businesswoman with her own salon and plans to branch it out?" He raises an eyebrow, putting his hands on his hips.

"Plans," she points out. 

"Very plausible plans," he adds. 

Stephanie shrugs. 

"Just, get in the car before I lose my patience." He shakes his head. But then seeing her hesitance he deflates, losing his bravado instantly. "Unless you're not comfortable with that? I promise I'll drive you straight home."

"Why would I be uncomfortable?" she asks, her voice a little small like she knows exactly why but doesn't want to put it out there. Albeit reluctantly, Eddie will do it for her. 

"Because I said I'm into you and now I'm inviting you inside my shady not-kidnapper van," he reminds her. 

"Yeah, but you're just saying that to make me feel better." Steph shakes her head softly, smiling her small, self-deprecating smile. "Which I do appreciate, but..." she trails off with a shrug.

Eddie is fed up with her. As beautiful as she is, her head is a maze she's clearly getting lost in and someone needs to pull her out of it. 

"Can I kiss you?" he butts in, realizing she's losing steam.

"What?" Her eyebrows jump in surprise. 

"Oh, you heard me." He takes a step closer, crowding her in. Maybe space is the opposite of what she needs. "Can I kiss you?" he repeats. "On the mouth. Tongue and all, if you don't mind."

He watches in real time as her cheeks turn red and her gaze drops down to his lips. 

"Here?" she breathes out. 

"Yes, here. So everyone knows how lucky I am." 

She looks up into his eyes, searching for any deceit but she won't find any. Her lips press together and come back shinier, wetter, and Eddie's own tingle in anticipation.

"Are you sure?"

Eddie's done with her. And done for her. He knows she won't admit what she wants, won't ask for it even when laid down on a silver platter in front of her. So he changes his question. 

"Just say 'no'." He leans just a tiny bit closer. 

She doesn't. Her eyes zero on his lips and her chest expands with her deep breaths. Eddie leans in more, and she twitches like she wants to reach back but won't. 

He closes the distance. 

Stephanie smells of hairspray and coffee. She's soft and perfect and he's afraid she'll flee if he touches her, but to ground them both, he reaches with his arms to cup her elbows, a safe place to hold her and not spook her. He moves his lips gently, slowly, but then he feels a tug on his jacket, which she grabs to hold on to him, and presses just a little bit closer. 

Eddie feels the exhale from her nose on his cheek as she relaxes against the van, giving him the illusion of towering over her, despite them being almost the same height. He slowly drags his hands up to caress her neck, angling her jaw gently how he wants it. When he finally sucks on her pouty bottom lip as he's been dreaming of, she exhales into him, tentative yet asking. She jolts at the touch of his tongue but parts her lips further anyway.

She feels like heaven and Eddie is almost ashamed by the sound he makes after tasting her properly, but her hand slides to his waist and he doesn't care about making a fool of himself in front of her and anyone else for that matter. 

If she wanted to, he'd deck himself in full jester attire just to make her smile, to take the load of worry off her chest. Oh, how he wants to take things off her chest. It's been a while since a simple kiss made him feel so giddy, so exhilarated, and he hopes she feels it too. 

He's excited for what's to come, not just in bed, though he hopes, yearns for that too, but making her happy and whole, seeing herself how he sees her. 

The sharp sound of a whistle pulls them apart. 

"Get a room, kids!" someone laughs jovially as a car slowly passes by, but by the time their heads snap towards it, it's gone behind the corner. 

"Well," Eddie chuckles softly. "Still feeling old?" he asks Steph with a smile that quickly falters when he can't read her expression. A million things he could have done wrong fleet through his head and he takes half a step back, but her hand is still holding on to his jacket. 

She's still relaxed against the van, so he forces his brain to quiet and waits. Her head tips back, exposing her neck and the faintest hint of an Adam's apple, invisible otherwise. He's ridiculously happy to be able to see it and hopes he'll be able to suck on it too. 

"I feel..." she finally says, and Eddie latches to every sound leaving her lips. "Something, for sure."

Nothing else comes so he trails his palm down her arm to gently squeeze at her wrist. 

"Good something?" he asks hopefully.

Their eyes meet again, giving him some relief, though the prolonged silence is fighting against it. He still waits and gives her time to think. She doesn't shake off his hand so he rubs his thumb against her pulse point.

Until it twists in his grasp, and he's ready to let go but she grabs at his fingers to squeeze back.

"I think so," she finally decides, giving him a small, tentative smile. 

my ko-fi bc i'm in deeper shit than i thought

the boys: @wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94

@tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman

@madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @lawrencebshoggoth

@hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets

[rosesnink]

Sinful Crush

Author's Notes

Happy birthday, Caro!!! Getting to know you these past year has been an amazing experience, and I wanted to thank you properly for it, since you fueled my love for Bas! I hope this fic I've cooked for you can show you my gratitude towards you and how grateful I am for being your friend. For more years together, amiga mía! Gracias por aguantarme <3

Before reading the fic, please read the TWs!

English isn't my first language, so please forgive any typos/grammar mistakes

If you want to be tagged in my COP fics, let me know!!

Summary: Sebastyan can't help crushing on a woman he shouldn't be crushing on

Word Count: 1.3k

Category: One-sided crush, suggestive

Pairing: Vasili Thorne x F!OC (mentioned) Sebastyan Thorne x F!OC (one-sided) F!Trystan Thorne x Juliana Georgescu

Rating: PG-13

TW: Age gap, suggestive scene (it's a dream, but still) and guns. Reader's discretion is advised. If you don't like/feel comfortable with these themes, PLEASE stop reading and block me if necessary, but don't be a dick in my notes

Book: Crimes of Passion

Fifteen-year-old Sebastyan Thorne had noticed two things: how Juli had slowly started to warm up to Trystan, and how beautiful Vasili’s companion –although Emika swore they were dating—was.

She was perhaps the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen: with thick, long brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and the sweetest face, with pink, plump lips that gave him heart flutters every time he looked at them. She was also smart; really smart. They talked about stuff Bas was yet to catch up. He had heard that she had a huge IQ, but was nevertheless something impressive, and Bas was rarely impressed.

He had royally messed up, looking like a fool when Vasili introduced her in the family brunch “Sebastyan! I’ve heard much about you. I’m Nerea Rose.”

“…Buuh? I mean, ahm, pleasure to meet Vasili’s, uhm, friend?”

She was so pretty, smelled like cherries and her hand was so warm, Sebastyan almost passed out, his head spinning. He could hear Emika and Patryk giggling, and Father was raising an eyebrow at this.

Nerea, the sweet angel she was, threw her head back and laughed “Aren’t you sweet! Vasili forgot to mention that, didn’t you?”

“Thought you’d like to see for yourself.”

Her ‘fiancé’ had made no attempt to get to know her or talk to her. Probably saw her as a broodmare to place his demon spawns into her. Eat shit, she thought, I am not giving birth to your hell spawns.

As she greeted the other siblings, Sebastyan shook his head, taking a generous swig of the cup in front of him. Which he discovered was not water, even if it looked like it. Even Emika looked pleased with her, and Emika loved to find flaws and throw shade at everyone.

The moment their parents retired, Juliana and Nerea were laughing and joking about something, and then, classic Patryk struck “Yo, girls! How bout a friendly competition?”

Nerea raised an intrigued eyebrow “What about?”

A malicious grin spread through “Shooting, since it’s like, an American thing.”

Nerea and Juliana shared a look, then she turned back and looked confused “Just because I’m American doesn’t mean I know how to shoot, but sure. Maybe I’ll learn a thing or two.”

Bas looked at Vasili, who thought the same. Keep Nerea safe from Patryk’s shenanigans… and the old guns. Putting an arm around her, he whispered something into her ear, and she into his, which left him intrigued.

Patryk looked at him mischievously “Maybe you’ll learn something too, Bas!”

He glared at him “I’m a politician, not a fighter, Patryk, and it’s Sebastyan to you.”

Emika smirked “But not for Nerea?”

He blushed furiously, but thankfully, Juliana put him out of his misery “I suppose every competition has some rules, yes?”

He noted to himself to get Juli her favourite flowers for that save.

“The rules are simple. Whoever blows any part of the dummy, has to dare the loser to anything juicy!”

Nerea nodded to Juli “Well, time to put your money where your mouth is, Patryk.” Juli said, in a calm, but challenging tone. Whatever they were planning, Patryk would regret mocking Nerea, and he was looking forward to it.

Panic washed over Patryk. Then, for the sake of his followers, he strutted ‘confidently’ towards the shooting point and aimed rather badly. Bas was no expert, but even he knew his form was all wrong. And he was right, because Patryk missed. Miserably so. Trystan burst out laughing, Vasili grimaced and Bas hid a smile. Definitely deserved.

Each sibling got a round. Of course, Vasili and Trystan were frontrunners. But by the way Nerea purposefully missed her shot, something inside told him that she had something up her sleeve. Another round passed, and she got ‘decent’ shots. Emika and Patryk both mocked her, saying that she had disappointed her American friends by being a terrible shot. Sharing looks with Vasili and Juliana; she walked towards the point and picked the gun.

It was like lightning. She accurately blew the dummy’s head with three shots, and put his dangling arm out of its misery with a fourth! She then turned to Patryk, a winning smile on her face “My father and uncle worked in the police force, thus taught me how to shoot and defend myself. I have a bachelor’s degree, a master’s and on my way to get a PhD, which means I am not to be underestimated. Never again assume I can’t put these bullets in unpleasant places of your body your thick head has clearly never heard of.” She then shot at another faraway dummy’s head, denting it without even looking.

Kaspar and Emika roared of laughter, Patryk reddened of shame, and Trystan whooped as Nerea and Juliana hugged, then Vasili smiled proudly at her, holding her hands. Bas felt a bit jealous, and was quite turned on when he had seen the way she confidently destroyed two dummies.

He shook his head. That woman was clearly into Vasili, and was five years older than him! It’d be wrong, and he couldn’t do that to Vasili. He had always been a loner, and now had someone who saw him. Nerea, no matter how hot or charming, was off limits.

Sebastyan was working on his computer, reading speeches and strategies of Drakovia’s greatest politicians, when a sultry voice drew away his attention “Hola, guapo.”

He lifted his head to see none than Nerea Rose, in a gorgeous black-emerald lingerie that let him see very much forbidden traces of her. He gulped “W-What is going on?”

She laughed seductively, and Bas tried to look at her eyes, but the revealing lingerie was not helping. She crawled to him, letting him see a dangerous glimpse of her bosom “Why are you fighting what you feel for me, hm?”

“Y-you know why.”

He suddenly felt a chill, and saw that his shirt was unbuttoned. She giggled mischievously “Oops. You won’t be needing that anymore, because this is what you want.”

He was not the owner of his actions anymore. He could only give in to her seductions, kissing her as the last image of the dream was her straddling him, finally feeling for himself her warmth.

When he thought the dream could not escalate any longer, a light blinded him.

It was his mother, waking him up “Good morning, son! Rise and shine! Today’s the day. Mayhaps Vasili will confess that Nerea is his girlfriend! I can feel it, you know!”

Marguerite giggled “I definitely saw them being all gross in his bedroom. They’re together, or about to be.”

Just his luck. Another day in which he had a crush on a woman he could never have. Not as long as Trystan and Vasili wanted them.

[degenerata69]

Continuation from my prompt for time-travel-age-gap-AU-or-whatever. Hope you enjoy!

Meanwhile, Mullet Stanley gathered the courage to speak to teen Ford. It was awkward, Ford didn't want to believe him at first until there wasn't any doubt it was him. Horrorized by the sight and realization, he dragged Stanley to their bedroom for him to treat his wounds and create a plan. During these months, despite his anger, he couldn't help but wonder how his brother was doing. He convinced himself Stanley was a fighter and would survive, but reality struck him like a million bricks. He had a mullet for fucks sake.

Stanley smoked a Cuban cigar while explaining to Teen Ford everything that went down, how he'd lived in his car, the gangs, the scams, the violence but left out an important piece of information he'd figure the young and jealous Ford didn't need to know yet. He remembers that the first time Stanford topped was after school, Stan got compliments from a sweet girl in class, and Ford needed to "claim" him. He couldn't imagine telling him that around this time, he survived by hopping from motel rooms, bars, gas stations, and public bathrooms.

Teen Ford just stared at him, hugged him, cried profusely, and apologized for abandoning him, promising to fix it. One thing led to another, and Ford put his lips on Stanley. While Stanley craved this more than anything else, we wanted to give up. He shouldn't do it. He is hurting his brother, he cannot allow this. Not again.

~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~~•~•

Paranoid Stanford, like the past few months, was not thinking straight, he was pounding his little brother on top of his work desk. Probably ruining some projects along the way, he bit, spit, bruised, slapped, and fucked him, desperate for marking him, he couldn't believe Stanley was tainted by someone else, couldn't let that happen to this Stanley, he needed to make him his again.

~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~~•~•~

It turned out, to the surprise of no one, that Stanley couldn't resist the temptation of fucking his twin. A few kisses on the neck and "But I want this" and that's what it took to have Ford jumping on his cock, burning the cigar to his flesh as Ford requested.

He knew Ford was a masochistic freak. When he got an A instead of an A+, he would ask the younger to fuck him without lube. It shouldn't be a surprise but he was astonished by Ford's insistence on being "punished"

~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~~•~•~

They enjoy the sex their younger selves were providing for them, forgetting anything else existed, they both finished at the same, hitting the post-coital blues while the teenagers clung to them.

Of course, the best thing to do was to fix the machine and send everyone to their original timeline. But was it? He couldn't count that past Ford would make up things with Stan before it was too late. He couldn't bear to imagine him sleeping another night alone. But what about his Stanley? Was he selling his body at this moment in time? He knew he had to make it up; he might be tainted, but it was his fault.

Stanley, in the meantime, knew that everything was set up in his favor; Stanford would forgive his past self, and they'd figure it out together, get a real job, and attend university with his twin and prevent him from doing whatever the hell was happening in the present. If time travel movies were depicting reality, as soon as he comes back to his timeline, everything would change and it would be the perfect world.

But what if it isn't? What if the Stan Twins from this dimension live happily ever after but he doesn't get the same? Ford is waiting for him to take a stupid journal to the other side of the world, could his mind be changed, or was he sending teenage Stanley on his way, all alone?

The teenagers purred, their heartbeats synchronizing with their adult counterparts.

There is no harm with one more week, right?

[conkers-thecosy]

Hi there, Conkers!

Out of curiosity, what are some other ships you enjoy in the Tolkien fandom (other than your fondness for Bagginshield and Nwalin) ? Hobbit/LOTR/Silm, any work goes!

Well hi there!

Thanks for the question, and apologies it's taken me so long to respond! 💛

Hmmm... well, I'm very fond of Gimli/Legolas, and Frodo/Sam, but I'll be honest, there are very few pairings I can't find some love in my heart for, and the ones I'm not interested in either have a too-large age gap or are related to each other, and I'm not into that, personally.

That's the great thing about this fandom, I think! There's just so much scope for fandom, and an amazing mix of ideas and people. It's so much fun!

Thanks again for the question, this was interesting to think about!

[slimypaws]

Some Rainbow x Scootaloo Art because I felt like it. [And someone inspired me—]

[sp00nful0fsuga]

I have a weak spot for this ship and have for so many years.

[demons-incorrect-alw]

Munkustrap: You have nice eyes.

Jemima: Thanks, your kids can have them too!