#i put this in the tags of a reblog weeks ago but a couple people have acknowledged it and said its good so i thought id post it lol

[russellsppttemplates]

I'll never give up on you (Franco Colapinto)

You think your age is an obstacle, but Franco is set on proving you otherwise

Note: english is not my first language. It's the big doe eyes, the curly hair and the fact that he's very funny, isn't it? It's a very crappy situation for everyone how they got here, everyone recognises that. This is also the first time I'm writing for him 🤍 I always feel and know I have to put this - for those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is slightly older than Franco (three years), alludes to previous bad relationships, alcohol consumption, relationship insecurity, reader gets accidentally hurt

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

"You look gorgeous, Y/N! I love love love this!", Olivia squealed, clapping her hands when she got to your bedroom.

"It's nothing special", you blushed at her compliments.

"It will catch some eyes, you will catch some eyes!", she smiled, "can you help me with my dress, please?", she turned around so you could zip her up.

You and your bestfriend Olivia shared an apartment in university, and once you entered into the job market, you quickly realised that it would be best to keep the same living situation, knowing you'd save some money in a beginner salary and you both felt comfortable about eachother. Her boyfriend Mark had just got a work promotion and he wanted to celebrate it with his friends, so you had been invited.

"Who else is going to be there?", you mused as you packed the essentials on your small purse.

"Some guys from the new department he's in now, Luke - the one we met a couple of weeks ago at the shops -", she began listing the names she recalled, "Amber, and Franco, I think - he doesn't have a race this week", Olivia said.

"Oh, okay", you smiled.

Franco Colapinto knew Mark from one of the teams he had driven for, and despite his career, he was an incredibly down to earth guy. You had met him in a few other occasions and he was funny, kind, always up for a challenge and not easy to persuade out of things. "Things" including flirting with you. At first, you thought it was just his nature and posture towards new people, but after realising he only acted like that towards you, and the fact that he kept making advances and going as far as talking to Olivia about it, you knew it was something else.

"You still haven't changed your mind about him? He's such a good match for you, Y/N/N", Olivia pouted.

The premise was simple - Franco was younger than you, and as much as he seemed interested, it would never lead to anything good. He was young, aspiring an amazing career you were sure he would achieve, and frankly, you couldn't see you in there. He would like to party all out, not have responsibilities and certainly not have to date someone older than him. And this was just at the top of your head - if you let your insecurities really work you up, there were many other reasons.

"We are not! If we did date, it wouldn't last long and I'm not up for that - I've learned my lesson", you tsked.

"You know he's very into you, I'm not sure you can get him to back down", Olivia advised, "I get that you have your walls, but maybe you could give him a chance?".

"He'll probably find someone else, if he hasn't already - now let's go!", you pulled her with you, not wanting to arrive late.

Once you were inside, you quickly spotted the group, greeting everyone and ordering some drinks.

"You're sure you don't want anything else?", Mark wondered.

"I don't feel like drinking anything strong today, but I'll toast to your promotion - congratulations again!", you hugged him.

"Careful, everyone!", you heard the argentinian accent call out, getting you to make room on the table so the bartender could set the tray with all the drinks, "Hello, Y/N, how are you?".

Turning to face Franco, you were instantly met with his bright smile, shiny eyes and wavy hair perfectly tousled, "Hi, I've been good, and you?".

"Even better now that you're here", he winked, "you look amazing by the way, that colour looks beautiful on you", he complimented.

Hoping the dim lighting hid your blushing cheeks you nodded, taking the coaster to our your drink on before looking at him, "thanks, it's not new or anything", you brushed him off.

The night was on a good roll until you came back from freshening up in the bathroom - just as you were about to sit on the high stool, a guy pushed his friend in a playful manner, only for him to accidentally hit you and making you hit your knee on the piece of furniture.

"Fuck", you mumbled, bracing yourself against the table as the sharp pain climbed up your leg no matter how much your hand tried to soothe it.

Before you could process the whole thing, a large hand was placed low on your back, "are you okay, Y/N? What happened?".

"It was us, I'm so sorry", one of the guys apologised as he carried his friend to their table, "do you want me to get something? Again, I'm so sorry".

"It's fine, I've got her", Franco dismissed them before looking at you again, "are you okay?", he asked worriedly.

"Of course", you attempted to speak firmly even though you were sure your face said it all. Your mother always told you you weren't a great liar.

Franco didn't seem to be convinced either, and ignoring your words, he bent down to check your knee, "you should sit so it doesn't swell up, and ice it too", he stated, tapping his shoulders for you to support your weight in them and help hoist you up on the stool.

"I'll go get some ice", Olivia offered.

As she excused herself, Franco gingerly touched your knee, fearing that he would hurt you even more, "is this fine?".

"It's not terrible, but it's hurting, like, it's a pulsation", you winced as he squeezed.

"I'm sorry, Y/N", Franco apologised, "just needed to check that it's not broken".

"You don't need to stay here, Olivia is coming back already", you added, watching the rest of the guys back on the pool table after you assured you were fine all things considered.

"You're the only one I care about, the rest can wait", Franco spoke.

"Look at that group over there", you pointed with your eyes, "wouldn't you prefer to hang out with them?".

The balloons let you know it was one of the girl's 20th birthday, and judging by the way they were looking in your direction, they noticed you too. Or Franco, you assumed.

"I've told you, I don't care about them, now where is the ice?", he muttered, looking around in hopes of spotting your friend in the darkened room.

"She's coming back", you pointed out.

The ice pack seemed to help relieve the pain and perhaps help with the bruising you were sure was going to take over your knee, "Franco, you can go be with the guys, I'll be fine", you reassured him again, "or be with the girls over there, they're very keen on you", you nudged.

Franco looked up at you, his gaze intense and serious, "those girls don't interest me", he replied, "you're the only one I care about".

There it was again.

"Don't say that", you tried to push it away before it dwelled on, "they're all very pretty, your age I'm sure".

Franco smiled softly as his eyes remained fixated on you, "who I pay attention to is you, you're the one I've always paid attention to", he spoke, not caring about the fact that Olivia was right there as she seemed distracted, "I don't care about their age or what they do. They're not you, and I want to be with you, so I'll stay here with you", he stated.

You heart took a lep, and even though you wished you could say something rational, something that made sense, the way he was looking into your eyes didn't let you. There was honesty and sincerity that never seemed to fail and that you could never ignore.

"Let me help you", Franco spoke softly, "right now, you're the only thing worrying me".

Hesitating, you allowed him to adjust the ice pack and keep talking to you about random stuff to take your mind away from the state of your knee, and for the first time in a while, it felt good to let someone else take care of you.

.

"Do you really think that we won't workout because of our age difference?", Franco spoke.

Mark and Olivia went to get coffee for all of you and left you and Franco on the picnic blanket to save the spot and keep your belongings safe. The plan for the afternoon was to enjoy the sun outside and while you were sure your bestfriend had something to do with this whole arrangement, you decided to let it slip and focus on relaxing for the afternoon.

"What?", you mused.

"You always point out that you're older than me, and whenever I make any advances, which I assume you're not too blind about, you never say yes, but don't say no either", he offered, "is it an obstacle?".

"We're good, aren't we?", you spoke.

"We could be better", Franco spoke and he supported his torso on his hands on his sides, "do you know how much I care about you?".

"We're friends", you replied.

"And you're telling me we couldn't be more?", Franco wondered.

"You have so many things to do still, I can't imagine you'd want to be tied to a 24 year old with a job and mundane responsibilities", you chuckled.

"Is that what it is? Do you really think our age difference is an obstacle?", he spoke softly.

"I can't say with such certainty", you mumbled.

"Can I keep on showing you that it isn't?", Franco spoke.

"I'm very stubborn", you recalled, "and I don't want you to waste your time".

"I'm not going to pressure you, but I'm not going to stop trying to show you how much you mean to me - you're very important in my life, Y/N".

.

"Did you salt the water already?", Franco asked as he grabbed the pasta from the cupboard.

"I did", you told him as you chopped the peppers and onions to add to the sizzling pan.

Franco happened to be around the area for lunch, and after he saw your story about being on your own, playfully claiming that Olivia had abandoned you, he offered to keep you company. Taking Olivia's advice that you should give him a chance and explore what you felt for eachother, you invited him over for lunch.

"Can I ask you something?", Franco asked as he dried his hands on the kitchen towell, throwing it to you so you could do the same.

"Now I'm worried...", you joked, "but sure, go ahead".

The smell of garlic browning in the pan filled the kitchen as you added the rest of the veggies, and you could feel the driver's eyes watching you. Up until now, the atmosphere was light, but there was an unspoken tension at the prospect of the question.

Franco couldn’t take it anymore. He was spending time with you whenever he could, getting closer little by little, but he felt there was a wall. A wall that you held strong, despite your shared glances and conversations that often stretched into the night.

“Why…”, he paused for a second, as if he was choosing his words carefully, “why do you keep pushing me away?”.

You stopped stirring the pan, slowly setting down the spoon aside and turned to face him.

“What are you talking about?”, you asked even though you knew exactly what he meant.

Franco turned fully to face you, his eyes fixed on yours, “You know what I’m talking about,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, "I’ve been trying to… get closer to you. You know how I feel about you, but every time I take a step toward you, you back away. There’s something you’re not saying, and I want to understand why, and if it's the age thing...", Franco let it out.

You sighed, fiddling with your hands as you gathered your thoughts.

“It’s not simple", you murmured, looking down at your feet.

"Then explain it to me", Franco's voice was calm, but insistent, "because from my side, it seems very simple. I like you. You like me, or at the very least you don't seem to hate me and…”, he hesitated, leaning a little closer, "whatever is stopping you… I can deal with it, we can talk about it".

Your heart raced as you looked up at him, "the age difference", you began hesitantly, “we’re from different worlds, different lives. You have so many options, people around you who… who are more in your vibe and in the line of life you can have. I’ve been through things you haven’t even begun to experience. What makes you think this… us, would be a good idea?", you mused.

Franco took a deep breath, taking a step closer until he was almost touching you, “What makes me think this would be a good idea? That we may have something to explore here? Have a shot at something good together?”, he repeated, looking directly into your eyes, "because every time I’m with you, I feel like I’m in the right place. Because no matter how much you think age is relevant, for me, what matters is how you make me feel. I’m not interested in anyone else, because you’re the one I want to explore these feelings with".

You fell silent, feeling his words invade her defenses. No one ever stood up for you like this.

“Age?”, he continued, "That doesn’t scare me. What scares me is losing you for a reason that, in the end, has no bearing on how I feel about you. You're so amazing and I don't want to lose that".

You bit your lip, feeling yourself wavering between the logic you had always used as a shield and what Franco was doing to your heart at that moment.

He took another step forward and gently placed his hand over yours, “I just need you to tell me… is it really age, or is it something more? Because if it’s just that… then we have a lot more to gain than we have to lose.”

You looked at his hand on hers and, for the first time, let yourself relax a little, allowing your brain to consider the possibility.

“What if it doesn’t go well?”, you whispered, voice hesitant and full of vulnerability, "I don't want to make a promise I can't keep, and I haven't let myself explore these feelings yet and... I don't want to hurt you, Franco".

"Y/N", he sighed softly with unexpected tenderness, “What if it does?", he smiled, "I'm not going to pressure you, and from the moment you tell me that there's no interest, I'll stop and we can remain friends. What I'm asking you is that you consider it first... take your time, I'll wait".

In a moment of confidence, Franco cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead, and for that moment you allowed your wall to lower a little more.

.

The good thing about the hot temperatures outside was that most people had taken their Saturday plans to the beach or the pool, so there was less traffic on your way home. You parked your car in the building's underground garage and went up the stairs to the floor where the apartment you share with Olivia is. Judging by how late you left work, your best friend must be home given that she has the free afternoon on Saturdays.

Turning the key in the lock and opening the door, you find a completely dark apartment, which is strange considering you left the blinds half open this morning to let in sunlight. As soon as you step inside, closing the front door behind you, you're surprised by lights that suddenly turn on and a chorus of voices singing the Happy Birthday song.

You hadn't felt in the right mood to celebrate your birthday this year, given and the changes from studying and the stress of your new job, so to say you were caught off guard by this surprise was an understatement. You had told Olivia that you could have something special for dinner to celebrate the day, and while she insisted a little more, she ended up dropping the subject. And you thought that meant the had agreed to your simple plans - that morning, she caught you when you were having your breakfast, wished you happy birthday and gave your her gift, a very simple necklace with a medal with your initial in it, and didn't make any more fuss.

You definitely didn't expect her to be preparing a surprise like this for you.

Besides Olivia and Mark, Franco is the first person you see in the living room of your apartment - which makes you feel a little bad about yourself considering you hadn't even told him that today was your birthday. Besides the three of them, Maria and Julia, your two closest friends from school, were also present, as well as Pedro, one of your best friends from high school that moved to another city, and as it turns out, came all the way to your party.

When the chanting ends, Olivia approaches you with the cake so that you can blow out the candles, everyone's attention still on you. You know you should say something, but right now, you were completely surprised, and talking under pressure was never your strongest suit.

"Thank you everyone!", is all you can say at first, earning laughs from your friends.

You rolled up the blinds, as they had been down so the surprise had full effect and opened the windows, allowing the air to circulate as everyone gathered in the living room, picking at the foods and drinking on the table you were sure were Olivia's doing for the small celebration.

She is the first one you turn to, tapping her shoulder softly.

"I know... I know you said you weren't in the mood to celebrate, but I thought that this is actually what you need - being with the people that adore you and care about you", Olivia goes first before you can utter out a word, "so, please, just enjoy this, okay?".

"Thank you, Liv", you smiled as you pulled her into a hug, "I can't believe that you went through all this trouble".

"It wasn't too much trouble, and Franco helped a lot", she answered, "the guy didn't even know what day your birthday was, Y/N... That's cruel!", she jokes, to which you roll your eyes.

"I probably forgot about that detail", you answer with a giggle, "thanks again".

"Stop being annoying and enjoy it", your best friend says, joining her boyfriend Mark's and Pedro's conversation.

You take the opportunity to greet Mark and then Pedro, who you haven't seen in person for a long time, "I can't believe you came all this way for this!", you exclaim.

"Of course I came! Olivia told me all the news and not only could I not miss your birthday, but I couldn't not come at a time like this", Pedro explains, "besides, how long has it been since we've been together in person?".

"Too long", you reply with a smile on your lips.

"Exactly! We need to catch up!", your friend exclaims, earning your agreement, "but go greet the rest of your guests first and we'll talk more later", he squeezed your shoulder.

You approach Maria and Julia, hugging them both tight. Although you finished your master's degree as they finished their undergraduate just over a year ago, you hadn't seen each other very often since then as work kept you all busy.

"I'm so happy you're here!", you smile, feeling genuinely happy at having all your people together in one room.

"We couldn't miss it. Besides, we've been missing you so much - you were truly a mother to us and I miss being coddled by you -, and we've already noticed that there's news you haven't been telling us...", Julia comments, wiggling her eyebrows and sharing a suggestive smile with Maria.

"What are you talking about?", you wondered with a quirked brow.

"You don't know? I'll tell you then! About Franco Colapinto!", she snickered, "you didn't tell us you were that close", Maria says.

You're quick to roll your eyes - a common response at her usual antics over the years -, "I told you we were friends", you recall.

"Yes, but we didn't know you were that close!", Julia insists.

"I see your annoying curiosity hasn't ceased", you joked, rolling your eyes again, "Anyway, thanks for being here, I really appreciate it", you joined your hands over your heart before excusing yourself.

Your eyes are quick to search for Franco, but you can't find him in the room. A few seconds later, you spot him returning from the hallway, assuming he had gone to the bathroom or had to take a phone call.

"I should be mad at you for conveniently forgetting to tell me when it was your birthday...", Franco starts, to which you shrug your houlders, trying to put on your best angelic and innocent face.

"I know, I'm sorry... with everything going on, I barely had time to think what month we were on and I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about it to be honest", you explained, "but I must confess I'm happy Olivia arranged this, and I know you helped a lot, so thank you so much, Franco".

"I get, I was just messing with you", he smiles, "and you don't have to thank me for it, you know I'll always do anything to see you happy".

"I know, and that's why I am so grateful", you smiled back.

"Might as well give you the present I got you now", Franco points out, "give me two seconds so I can get it from where Mark told me to put it so it wouldn't be in the way of Olivia's plans and before she started staring at me with her 'I'm going to chop your head off' eyes", he chuckled.

You nodded and waited long enough for Franco to pick up a bag and give it to you, " I racked my brain to decide what I should gift you, because nothing seemed good enough, but I hope you like this".

Undoing the bow keeping the paper bag together, you found a copy of your favourite book with a collectable cover. The intricate detailing of the golden foil complimented the colours beautifully and there was a bookmark inside it, the little tassel falling to the side. Taking it to inspect it closely, you read the delicate lettering Don't lose the sparkle that makes you.. you.

"Wow, Franco", you gasped, completely enamoured by the beauty of it all, "this is spot on, I love it!", you exclaimed, hugging him.

"I'm glad", Franco smiles, jokingly wiping sweat off his forehead and making you laugh.

"Have you met my friends?", you wondered.

"Yes, Olivia did all the introductions", the driver answers.

"Good, let's find out what they're going on about", you suggested, setting the present back in a safe place and pulling Franco with you to join the rest of the group.

You spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening chatting, while you eat and drink the things that Franco and Olivia kindly prepared, and playing some board games. At the end of it, you end up having a really good time, in a way that you haven't in a while, feeling really grateful that Olivia had prepared this surprise. Without knowing it, this was exactly what you needed: your friends and some good moments of relaxation.

"Are you leaving already?", you ask Pedro when the young engineer announces his departure.

"I still have to drive back, Y/N, remember?", he reminds you, earning a nod, "but don't worry your heart too much, I'll keep bothering you with messages and calls and stuff... You won't get rid of me that easily".

"Fine by me!", you smiled at him, "thanks for coming, truly!".

"You have nothing to thank me for. I'll be here any time if you need me - I'm a phone call away", he reminds you, "Are you okay?".

"Of course", you smiled, "let me know when you get home, okay?".

"I will. I had a great time meeting you guys today", Pedro waves at everyone, "until next time!", before leaving the apartment.

At around 10pm, Maria and Julia also announce that they need to leave since they would have an early morning. You bid them goodbye to your friends with the promise of a lunch whenever you could find the time to catch up.

"Don't tell me you're chickening out now and going home too?", a slightly tipsy Olivia teases Franco as he got up from the his spot in the sofa.

"I've already told you that I have the day off tomorrow, my friend", Franco teased her back, getting you and Mark to laugh.

"Let's play another round then", Mark suggested, "since there's only four of us now, we can split into two teams and play Party & Co.".

"This is a recipe for disaster if I have ever seen one", you muttered, "Olivia is a terrible loser and you are a racing driver".

"That's why you should want to have me on your team, I'm used to competing", Franco argued in his favor.

"Strong point, argument accepted. Let's do it!", you declared.

During the game, Olivia ends up making up consequences for those who make mistakes, making everyone drink a few sips of their drinks and even Franco joins in with these punishments, arguing that today is an exceptional day to his usual regime.

By the end of the first game, it's clear that you're all drunk, so you make the responsible and sensible decision not to play anymore. Mark and Olivia end up retiring to the room, leaving you with Franco in the living room.

"I hope they don't make too much noise", you point out as you adjust your position on the sofa so that you're facing Franco, making him burst out laughing at your words, "What?! I'm not telling any lies! Have you imagined how uncomfortable it would be for us to be here and hear them having a baby making practice session?".

"You're right, you're right. I hope they don't make much noise", Franco repeats your words and, this time, you both laugh, "So... did you and Pedro date in high school?".

"Did he tell you that?", you ask, unable to contain your giggles.

"Yes, why? Is it a lie?", Franco asks.

"Half, half", you answered with a gesture.

"How is something half half a lie? It's either the truth or a lie", Franco states.

"I had a crush on Pedro, I tried my luck, but nothing ever happened between us", you admitted, deliberately pausing briefly before continuing, "Because Pedro is gay, Franco, and he was clearly making fun of you", you finally let out a laugh that's been bubbling up since he first asked you.

"Are you serious?", Franco mused.

"Yes. Apparently, he found a weak spot in you and decided to exploit it", you answered amused by the situation that must've enrolled when you weren't home yet.

"A weak spot? Nah... We were talking and he just dropped it, I have no idea why", Franco said, shrugging his shoulders.

"What were you talking about?", you wondered.

"Considering we were at your birthday party... We were talking about you", the brown-haired man answers.

"Please continue", you encouraged.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N Y/L/N", Franco declared, but your glare was enough for him to keep going, "He asked me how we met and I told him. And then he told me about you. And he clearly told me a lie".

"Does it make you feel relieved that it's a lie?", you spoke before thinking properly about it. The sudden courage is unusual for you, but you're playing with all your cards on the table.

"I don't know what you're getting at, Y/N", the driver changes the subject, which makes you roll your eyes.

"I know you undertand it, stop acting like you don't. It's a yes or no question - are you relieved or not?!", you insist.

"Honestly? It doesn't do much. If it were true, it would be something from your past, not your present. We both have a past", Franco responds in a somewhat evasive manner.

"But it could be my present again, especially since he was here today", you decided to insist, wanting to understand how far you could push him.

You weren't sure about the game you were playing, and you couldn't quite say that you were thinking clearly, but this feeling of dominance and being in control was enjoyable. Understanding that this was making Franco uncomfortable also made you realize that he wasn't so sure about talking about what he felt for you. The part of you that wants to understand what he really feels for you is ignited, and you can't tame it down.

After the conversation you had, Franco didn't make any advances and never showed that he wanted more than a friendship, which, in a way, left you at ease, but also perhaps a little disappointed. Had he realised that you weren't worth it?

"Honestly, I don't know what you're getting at...", Franco pretends not to understand again, which makes you sigh loudly, "What's wrong?".

"What I'm trying to understand is if what he said to you bothered you or not. And if so, why. But clearly you are not ready to admit it", you state.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N... You're trying to cross a very complicated line", he warns.

"Why?", you keep going.

"Because you asked for time and space and I gave it to you. And now you're trying to cross a line that I've been trying not to cross, because I'm trying to respect your wishes", Franco answers, this time sincerely.

"That's true, I asked you for time and space and you gave it to me. And I appreciate it", you begin, "but... I know I'm getting closer to that line, maybe I'm even playing a dangerous game too, but I'm doing it consciously".

"What if you're not ready for my honest answers?", Franco argues.

"Well, that's a me problem, isn't it?", you shrugged your shoulders, "can I ask my questions and get back honest answers?", and Franco's answer comes out in form of an unhappy sigh followed by a nod of agreement, "did what Pedro told you bother you? Did it bother you to think that we had dated and that he was back here?".

"Like I told you, we both have a past", Franco avoids the question. Tries to, anyway.

"Honest answers, Franco!", you exclaimed, pleading in exasperation, "of course we have a past, but I'm not going to give the past a shot and I think you won't do again what you did before! With Pedro, it would be different, because if we had dated and he was here, that would mean we had a good relationship. So, I'm going to repeat the question again, and I want you to give me an honest answer - did it bother you or not?".

"It bothered me!", Franco suddenly exclaim, "do you want honest? Here it goes! Yes, it bothered me exactly because of what you just said. Even if, by some act of the devil, your other boyfriend came back into your life, I know for a fact that he would never have another chance with you. However, if you had dated Pedro and if he was here today, it meant that he had a chance with you. And if he had a chance with you, then he was someone I would have to look at as competition".

"And now that you know that there never was and there never could be anything between me and Pedro?", you ask him.

"It makes me feel a little less worried. It means that I still have time to try to continue to mend the damage that others have caused, it means that I can still work to show you how much you mean to me and how high I hold you in my life", Franco replies in a calm and honest tone, which surprises you.

Faced with his words, this time, you are the one who doesn't know what to say. You did ask for honesty and there it was.

"You wanted honest answers...", Franco argues, as if he could guess what was on your mind. Lately, it seemed like he could do it effortlessly.

"I know, I'm not complaining", you admitted, "Does that mean that what you feel for me goes beyond friendship?", you ask directly. You needed to hear it from his mouth.

"What can my answer change in our relationship?", Franco asks, not answering your question.

"Nothing. I won't walk away from you this time, I promise. I just need to know", you clarified.

"Do you really want me to be one hundred percent honest with you?", Franco asks.

"Yes, please", you ask.

"Yes, what I feel for you goes beyond friendship. I tried not to let it be like that, I tried to pretend that I wasn't falling in love with you, but there's no way to control what we feel", he declares honestly without ever stopping to fix his gaze on yours, "Every time I look at you, I see someone with whom I can imagine a future... And I know how hasty this may seem, and I know your reservations about us, but it's simply how I feel. You asked me to be honest and I'm being as honest as I can... But I don't want to lose you, Y/N. In fact, I can't lose you, because, the moment that happens, I think I'll end up losing myself too", Franco stated.

His words leave you completely disarmed, not knowing what to say. Looking at it, you don't think anyone has ever said something like that to you. The words overwhelm you and there doesn't seem to be a right thing to tell him back.

"Can we just forget I said all this?", Franco says, "I don't want things to get awkward between us".

"But I don't want to forget it", you answer quickly, "It was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me".

Judging it by Franco's expression, he was also caught off guard by your words, probably because he thought this would change your relationship again and brung unwanted distance between you.

Truth was, you weren't going to run away anymore. You didn't want to, and you couldn't do it.

Yes, you were scared, but you knew you need to move on. The comfort zone can be very good, but no boat was made to stay at the dock and you needed to drop the anchor and launch yourself into the unknown. Besides, you know that, in a few years time, you won't like to look back and regret what you didn't do.

"Can I ask you the question back, then?", Franco tries and you nod, "Is what you feel for me just friendship? Or something more?".

"I don't have an answer as assertive and confident as yours, but I know that I look at you and I don't see you just as a friend. You are very special to me, Franco. You are the person I want to talk to about everything, the good and the bad. You are the person who I know will never judge me, who will always try to understand me and help me. After all, you were the first person I was able to trust one hundred percent", you admit, "and I'm still figuring out how I'm supposed to allow myself to believe in love again after everything that happened, but I really wish you were by my side on this journey... That you would make me believe in love again", you offered.

"I don't like to make promises, Y/N/N, but there's one thing I'm absolutely sure of - I'll do everything in my power to make you believe in love again", Franco says, pulling you into his lap and embracing you in a hug that makes you feel safer than ever.

.

When Franco called you and asked if you could join him in the park, you were quick to let him know you were leaving work and heading to meet him. The past two weeks had been crazy with him travelling to races and you visiting your family, so texting had become the way you found to maintain contact.

As soon as you spot him by the trees, you walk a little faster, hugging him as soon as you are able to, "can I say that I've missed you?", you joked.

"I missed you loads, so I think it's only fair you tell me", he smiled, "Hi, how was your day?", he asked as he squeezed you against him.

"I missed you", you spoke, "and it was good, better now that I'm here".

Lately, your walls had lowered progressively - Franco's reassurance and a constant defiance of your thoughts had helped you break down the worries you had. Olivia pointed it out, everyone noticed how much happier you were, and even Franco could sense you were feeling more comfortable.

You end up sitting so close to each other that your knees touch and you rest your arm on Franco's and let your head fall on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a few seconds and just inhaling his scent.

"I...", Franco begins but soon stops before saying anything else.

"What is it?", you ask, raising your head to look at him.

"Nothing, nevermind", he shrugs.

"I don't like it when people say that to me. If you were going to say something, don't tell me to forget about it", you state firmly, "Whatever you were going to say, you can say it. Always. I will never judge anything you tell me. I know you, okay, Franco?".

"Yes, but...", he sighs, "I think I'm missing the courage".

"Please, just say it!", you exclaim, starting to get anxious and worried about his hesitation, "Is it something serious? Is there a problem?".

"No, nothing like that!", he clarified.

"Okay, then...", you encouraged.

"It's about a conversation I had with my mother", he says and, although you don't say a word, your expression lets him know he can continue, "about you".

"About me?", you ask curiously.

"She doesn't know it's you, but... It was about us and about what I feel for you", he offers.

At these words, your heart suddenly accelerates, "she told me that life is supposed to be lived and that..", he gulps.

You remain silent, because you don't know if ot what your supposed to answer. There's nervousness and anxiety as you're not sure exactly where this conversation is going to end up at.

"We can't predict the future, we don't know how much time we have", Franco spoke, "what I mean by this is that I've been thinking that, many times, we waste time on things that, perhaps, don't make that much sense. And I think I've been wasting some time in the sense that I've wanted to do things calmly, I've wanted to respect your time and I think I'm the one who's been afraid of taking the next step. I'm too afraid of losing you, but I'm wasting time and we never know when it is too late".

Part of you knows where Franco is going with this, but the other one doesn't fully understand what he's trying to say.

You're nervous, your heart feels like it's beating out of control and there's a lump in your throat. Despite not crying often, you feel the tears right at the back of your eyes, ready to fall at any moment.

"I'm not particularly good with words, Y/N, but what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm madly in love with you. Damn, I'm trying to tell you that I love you. And I know you're scared and I'm scared, because there have been bad experiences, and because what we have is very special and neither of us wants to ruin it. But I think we're wasting time apart when we could make the most of this time together", Franco continues, "I believe we were very lucky to have found each other when we did. I think we had the perfect timing. And every time I look at you, all I can think about is how lucky I am to have found you. I love you, Y/N, and I want to be with you one hundred percent", the brown-haired man stops his speech as if to catch his breath, and then concludes, "That is if you want to be with me, obviously".

What can you say to someone who declares themselves to you in this way? What do you say to someone who has told you everything? How can you say something that comes even close to what you just heard?

"Did I misunderstand everything and after all you don't like me the same way, is that it?", Franco asks, "it's just, your texts and the way you talk, feels like you do".

The insecurity in his voice is the trigger you need for the words to simply come out of your mouth without having to think much about them, "No, it's nothing like that!", you exclaim, "It's just that it's hard for me to say anything after everything you said. I don't want you to doubt for even a second what I feel for you, Franco. I know I haven't been the best person to express my feelings, because when we say things out loud, they become real. And I was so afraid to admit the truth, so much so that I preferred not to say it. But you're right. Life changes in the blink of an eye and it doesn't make sense to keep leaving things unsaid or undone and wasting time. I'm in love with you, Franco. A part of me has wished, since the moment you made an effort for me, that I could have someone like that by my side, willing to protect me, take care of me and be there for me. I have no doubt that my life has changed for the better because you came into it. And I should have told you all this sooner, because you deserve to hear all this and much more. You are an extraordinary person and you deserve to be happy. And I want to be able to make you happy", you stop for a few seconds, taking a deep breath and gathering all the courage in the world to say the dreaded words out loud, "I love you and there is nothing I want more in this world than to be with you and be your girlfriend".

Despite all the nervousness you felt when expressing your feelings, the relief that follows leaves you feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulder. Suddenly, you understand that fear paralyzes people and prevents them from moving forward.

The fear of not being enough for Franco, that he couldn't possibly have a girlfriend older than him and the fear that he would suffer from that was what was holding you back, stopping you from being happy. Now that you got that off your chest, that you said what you feel out loud, you realise you're ready to be happy again with someone else.

The smile that appears on Franco's lips makes your day. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you towards him, pressing your lips together.

You close your eyes and savour every second of the moment: from the way his hand is resting on your waist, while the other caresses your cheek, to the way his lips slide over your and your tongues touch.

When you break the kiss, needing to breathe, you keep your eyes closed for a fraction of a second, enjoying the sensation his lips left on yours.

"I have something to ask of you", you say, opening your eyes.

Franco's arm continues wrapped around you and you remain very close to him without moving, appreciating the closeness.

"Whatever you want", Franco says.

"Don't give up on me. Whenever I try to push you away, pull me to you. Whenever I yell at you because I'm angry, hug me. If I don't answer your texts or calls, look for me. When I feel too insecure, remind me that I'm the only one and how lucky I am to have you. If I'm giving up on us, kiss me and remind me why I shouldn't give up. And I know this is asking too much, but I know you love me enough to do this, to stay with me. I promise to do the same with you, to never give up", you declare.

"I promise, mi amor. I'll never give up on you, not even if you ask me to", Franco smiles as you cup his cheek, bringing your faces closer once again to kiss him.

[anexperimentallife]

EDIT: CRISIS AVERTED, THANK YOU!

Interracial US family w/ disabled autistic dad and toddler needs to get to the US for medical treatment

(New post because the old one was getting LONG with the updates. Details are under the "read more" to save your dash, with updates in the notes.)

TL;DR: If I'm going to live long enough to watch our daughter grow up, we need to get back to the US and get set up in a disability-friendly place where I can use my medical benefits.

Although I was already disabled (autism, adhd, and spine, joint, and head injuries), my health was stable--until four bouts of COVID left me immunocompromised, and utterly destroyed my health (including damage to my heart, blood clots that damaged one eye, neurological and joint issues, etc.), and although we started off fine, we've been hammered with one crisis after another, both medical and financial, that no one could have predicted.

Until we have enough to get back to the US, a chunk of whatever comes in has to go towards medical care that can't be put off, so the sooner we can reach critical mass on that, the better.

If you can help, or reblog, or share the links on other platforms, we'd be grateful!

The "Donate to Little or None" Paypal donation link takes the lowest fees, I think. (Kept the same link from when we were fighting to get our daughter's birth certificate fixed so we could get her citizenship affirmed.)

Then there's Ko-Fi:

And my little sister started a GoFundMe for us!

EDIT: The donation links above still work, but I removed the GoFundMe link.

IF YOU WANT ALL THE DETAILS SEE THE "READ MORE."

(There's more in my "rob gets medical" tag if you want a blow by blow account of how we got to this point over the past few years, but this is the gist.)

HOW IT STARTED:

I moved to the Philippines six years ago, after the deaths of my adult sons, in part to make my disability payments stretch further. Shortly afterwards, I was joined by my now-wife @thesurestthing (also from the US) for what was supposed to be a visit, but which turned into a permanent arrangement.

After I got a contract to license an old story for a mobile game (which tripled our income*), we found out we were having a baby, which was fine, because despite my disabilities (autism, adhd, two spine injuries, traumatic brain injury, a herniated esophagus, joint issues, etc.), my health was stable, and thanks to the contract, we were fine financially as well.

HOW IT STARTED GOING DOWNHILL:

Zoey's pregnancy was complicated, requiring two hospitalizations, and our daughter's birth was complicated, too--requiring a C-Section--which tripled our hospital bill. A few weeks after our daughter was born, the aforementioned contract was canceled without warning. THEN, when we tried to register our daughter's birth with the US embassy, we discovered an error on her birth certificate that left her stateless, and which took nearly two years, all our savings, and a fundraiser (thank you, generous people!) to resolve. Combined with medical expenses, that left us in a lot of debt.

A brief summary of went else wrong (leaving a lot out for brevity's sake):

I got COVID three four times during all this, became immunocompromised, and developed a slew of other medical issues (heart damage, eye damage and temporary facial paralysis from blood clots, persistent infections, a worsening of my joint issues, neurological issues, etc.) as a result of Long Covid.

I've had to be hospitalized a couple of times, undergo surgery, and was on an oxygen machine twice--once for an entire month, while I was bedridden. As of 24 January, 2024, I'm still recovering from my fourth bout of covid, which started at the beginning of October 2023.

There's a lot more, but you get the idea. COVID has completely wrecked my health, including tearing up my immune system.

And yes, I'm as fully vaxxed against COVID as one can be in the Philippines, with all available boosters, but again--I'm immunocompromised, plus they don't have the vax for the newest variant here yet. Zoey is vaxxed, also, and as a result, her bout with covid was extremely mild. El isn't vaxxed yet because they won't give the covid vaccine to kids under five here, but she's been able to share Zoey's antibodies from breast-feeding--which is apparently a thing.

The only way we can see for me to stay alive long enough to watch Eleanor grow up is to get back to where I can use my Medicare and VA benefits**.

WHY SO MUCH MONEY?

First, while we're still here, we need to pay for whatever medical care can't be put off. Plus, since I'm now immunocompromised, we have to get LOTS of vaccinations before we have to spend 24 hours or so in crowded planes and airports.

Second, we're going to be arriving with only what we can carry with us on the plane, and we'll need to get into a place near a VA hospital that I can easily get around in while I'm recovering from surgeries and getting various treatments. We'll need to pick up some secondhand household goods, and some kind of used transportation (because, you know, it's the US, where you kind of need a vehicle to get around).

We'll also need enough on top of my and El's disability payments to get by for a couple of months while Zoey looks for work. And all this is while we're still paying off the debt from the stuff I mentioned above.

So we're figuring that unless we catch some very lucky breaks, it'll probably cost between 20K and 36K altogether.

(We can't simply stay with friends when we get back, because literally every single close friend we have in the US with extra room and who lives close to a VA hospital has cats--to which I have a severe anaphylactic reaction. As in my entire respiratory system shuts down, and I have to be rushed to the ER to keep from dying; this has happened more than once. The only way I can be around cats is if I'm on immunosuppressants, and my immune system is ALREADY compromised, so I CAN'T do that.)

So again, if you can kick in, or reblog, or post our crowdfunding links (or the link to this post) on whatever other platforms you use, we'd appreciate it.

(*When I told social security about it, they said I could keep getting disability, too, because licensing IP rights didn't count as work income, and since it was a Moldavian company, it also fell under a special tax clause for getting paid by a foreign company while living overseas, so no taxes on it, either. )

(**VA benefits--I was a cold warrior in 1980s Germany. It was less than forty years after WWII, there was a lot of sabre-rattling--some of it nuclear--and we were there as a deterrent to prevent in Germany the kind of thing that's happening in Ukraine right now. Disclaimer because I'm tired of people accusing me of "invading" folks in the early 1980s when I was a dumb, heavily propagandized pre-Internet kid fixing generators in Europe. I wouldn't join today even if I could.)

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 5

chapter 4 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 6

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: after what happened a couple of months ago, you are ready to move forward. joel? not so much. he might need a little... prodding.

warnings: 18+, mdni. internal and verbal discussions of feelings, trauma and past relationships. some jealousy (if you squint very hard). porn with plot or plot with porn (however you wanna look at it). again, absolutely filthy smut because i don’t know any better (sorry not sorry). fluff. voyeurism (you spy on joel). masturbation (f and m). oral (f and m receiving). finger sucking. unprotected piv. praise kink. sir kink. size kink. cum eating. a bit of cum play. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. squirting. dirty talk. you are very needy in this one and joel is very possessive over you. soft!dom!joel. aftercare. pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, baby, honey). i'm sure i'm forgetting something lol. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov.

a/n: hiya! first i want to thank you all for the positive feedback this series has gotten! [: i started writing this for myself mainly, and decided to post it here thinking that if a couple of people liked it, it'd make my heart happy. also, i have taken some licenses with joel's past, as neither the game nor the tv show gives many details (you'll understand what i mean). anyways! after the last chapter, our two protagonists (you!) deserve a bit of calm, peace and quiet... right? 😈 as always, thank you all for engaging. i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! even asks/requests/side stories if you want to! take care lovelies <3 x

w/c: ~6.3k (sorry?).

tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981

August came around relatively quickly. Tommy had proposed you got closer to civilisation, which meant long trekking trips while the sunlight was still up. Joel agreed reluctantly, as he still thought that was dangerous. You just went along with it, letting them decide ― you didn’t really care where you ended up as long as the Millers were by your side.

Well, one of them especially.

At daytime you barely had time to yourself. However, the story was completely different at nighttime. The second you closed your eyes, snippets of what had happened two months ago flooded your memory. For the first few weeks, the nightmares were unbearable. You would wake up in the dead of night, sweaty and shaking.

And every time you woke up, Joel was by your side. He would hug you while you both laid on improvised beds, no matter how uncomfortable it was. Neither of you would talk, you would just cry in silence while your panic attack subsided ― Joel holding you throughout the whole episode. He had truly been a rock you could hold onto in the middle of a sea storm.

It got to the point where Tommy had started to realise that something was up between you two. Neither you nor Joel denied nor confirmed anything, although Tommy never asked. He would just look away when his brother would attend to you if you fell behind or would offer to do the first night shifts so Joel could be by your side at bedtime.

You were somewhat sure that Joel really cared about you. The way he would look at you… it sent shivers down your spine. The intensity in his eyes was hypnotising ― sometimes you would find yourself lost in his brown orbs, unable to look away. You also really cared about him.

You didn’t want to put a label to your feelings, mainly because you were not sure how Joel would react. You had come to understand that the man was prone to evade any topic about his feelings in general ― physical, emotional or otherwise. You could still not get him to tell you whenever he felt off. Since the blow to his head a couple of months back, Joel had been suffering with horrible headaches, to the point where he had fainted in a couple of instances.

The man was such a closed book you found out about his deceased wife the same way you knew about Sarah ― through Tommy. You assumed he had one or at least a partner at some point in time before the outbreak. The younger brother didn’t give you many details though, not that you asked either ― some wounds were better left untouched.

You liked Tommy a lot. He was a godsend ― so very different to Joel, but so similar in many ways. He was talkative and filled in long silences with stories about how they would cause mayhem at home when they were kids. You didn’t know if they were true or not, but they were entertaining nonetheless. You were under the impression that Tommy was the one who got into sticky situations and Joel was the one who had to fix them.

“I’m gonna go to the lake for a bit”, Joel told you, derailing your train of thought.

“No worries, I’ll get the fire going. Poor Tommy is always the one setting up camp”, you replied with a slight smile.

“Yeah, poor me, relegated to such unsignificant tasks”, said Tommy with a chuckle.

You smiled back and then looked in Joel’s direction. He was frowning at both of you, but quickly controlled his face expression.

“I’ll be back soon”, Joel crouched to look through his backpack, grabbing a couple of towels.

Something inside of you twisted. But you pushed the thought to the back of your head. You had already volunteered to start the fire.

You really tried to focus on the bonfire. And after a few attempts, you finally got it going. Joel had not come back yet from the lake ― it had only been ten minutes, but you were slightly worried in case he had lost consciousness again while no one was around.

“I’ll go check on him”, you told Tommy.

He looked at you with a sarcastic smile.

“Sure thing”, he replied while he started to skin a rabbit.

You rolled your eyes before you left in the direction Joel had gone.

You walked the hundred metres that separated the camp and the lake. The brothers had ensured the area was completely devoid of human existence before they decided to settle there for the night. You were now in Mark Twain National Forest, near St. Louis. You had checked out Kansas City a week ago, but both Tommy and Joel had deemed it too unsafe. So Chicago was your final destination. None of you knew what you would encounter there, but it was worth a try. The wilderness had not proven to be any safer.

Before you got to the bank of the lake, you spotted Joel in the water. He had his back towards you, your eager eyes checking out his broad shoulders, the water level up to his hips. He ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back.

You stopped walking, somewhat mesmerised, your head slightly tilted to one side with curiosity. In the last two months, you had discovered a new side to Joel you didn’t know he had.

You guessed that what happened that night also affected him in a different way it did you. After he almost decapitated that man, you saw guilt in his eyes when he looked at you ― you still sometimes caught a glimpse of it to this day. As you found out later, that culpability was because he felt responsible for what those men did to you ― he really thought he could have done more. And he did in a sense, because for the next couple of days he hunted down every man in that group until there was no one left to hurt you. Apparently, that was not enough in his eyes, although it was in yours. But as much as you tried to explain that to him, it just wouldn’t sink in. He was so stubborn it made you go crazy sometimes.

Although Joel had been there for you emotionally, he had not touched you for the last two months. You managed to steal a few kisses from him and that was it. He had been extremely cautious with you in that respect. You were relieved he was as you tried to come to terms with what had happened, but after a few weeks it started to feel… frustrating. You were not broken and despite what he thought, you still had needs.

He suddenly looked over his right shoulder, offering you his side profile ― to you, he was gorgeous. Feeling like a child caught causing mischief, you quickly hid behind a tree. Joel looked around, eyebrows touching in confusion, but then he shook his head as if he was imagining things and proceeded to cup his hands in the water to wet his face.

You couldn’t not watch. You instantly realised that was the first time you saw him naked. The last ―and, regrettably, the only― time you two had sex, he was fully clothed. There was something very intimate about seeing him washing up.

You were so transfixed on the picture in front of you it was like the world had disappeared around you. Joel rubbed his skin with a hand towel ― his strong arms, his chest, his back, his lower stomach… Your breath quickened a bit, your heart picking up a pace. Everything about him invited you in ― it wasn’t only his rugged appearance that appealed to you, but also his character.

You started to feel hot. Had the temperature suddenly gone up? It seemed like it. Joel put the hand towel on his left shoulder. When you saw his right hand disappear below the water in front of him, your mouth went dry wishing it was your hand. You wanted to help him clean his manhood so badly ― memories of his delightful cock rocking you into a trance short-circuited your brain.

Before you could stop yourself, you placed one hand on your belly, biting your bottom lip. You finally gave in to temptation, pushing past the edge of your panties. You dipped two fingers in your slit, doing circular movements around your clit. Your eyes, albeit halfway closed in pleasure, could not leave Joel as he kept on freshening up. You pushed down your fingers a bit more, sliding one of them in your needy hole.

You closed your eyes, a half-smile showing on the corner of your lips. That felt so good. If Joel was going to do nothing about it ― fine, you would. Still behind the tree, out of sight, you held on to the bark with your free hand, upping the rhythm of your wet fingers, your thumb rubbing that tight knot in your fold. Then you slightly opened your eyes again ― you wanted to stare at Joel while you came.

But he wasn’t there anymore. You frowned, confused, but you were too busy to worry about that right now. So you closed your eyes again to fully focus on the task at hand. You leaned your forehead against the tree, feeling your orgasm wash over you with intensity. You pressed your lips, suppressing a moan as to not alert Joel of your presence.

“Am I interrupting?”, his soft voice forced you to glance in his direction with starry eyes.

He was on your righthand side, just half a metre away from you. Entirely naked in all his glory, an erection creeping up on him. You were speechless, partially because you had been caught spying on him and partially because you were still feeling the last remnants of your climax, your inner walls crying for something to choke.

“I―I…”, you really tried to excuse yourself, but your voice faltered when your eyes checked him out from top to bottom.

His body was chiselled, his muscles somewhat defined, especially around his waist. He had a pronounced V line with a hairy, happy trail which you avidly followed with your eyes until you were gifted with the sight of his veiny cock. You unconsciously licked your bottom lip.

Your fingers were still dunked in your warm pussy. Joel grabbed your wrist and took your hand out of your underwear, raising it to eye level. Your digits were sticky, covered in your own cum. You should feel ashamed, but you definitely didn’t. Not with him. Joel looked into your eyes, and, without breaking visual contact, he brought your slick fingers closer to his face. With no hesitation, he opened his mouth and pushed them into it, licking them clean. You felt your cunt gushing, eyelids half closed. You could have easily come again for him, but he released your fingers far too quickly for your liking.

“You naughty girl”, he whispered as he pulled you from the wrist to get you closer to his chest. “You taste even better than what I imagined”.

“I didn’t think you were…”

“Aware of your presence? Always, darlin’”, he finished for you.

Your cheeks blushed when he freed your wrist and lifted your chin up. His thumb caressed your bottom lip, his mouth just an inch away from yours. You bowed to kiss him, but he backed up a little, denying you.

“Are you sure you wanna do this, sweetheart?”, he asked, you could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

You nodded vehemently.

“Yes, please, Joel, I really need to feel you, to have you fuck me senseless”, you emphasized, short-breathed.

He seemed to consider your words for longer than what was acceptable. You saw his eyes flying between yours and your lips.

“Please?”, you begged.

Your prayers might have been heard, because he leaned forward, brushing your mouth with his.

“Then go down on your knees, darlin’”, he whispered against your lips.

You silently gasped as your clit pulsed at his words. You were delighted to follow his command, and so you kneeled compliantly.

When your knees touched the grass, his cock was at eye level. You couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. His dick was as big as you remembered, the memory of it filling you up still haunted you. It was so erected now that the tip touched his belly button. Joel looked so strained you thought he had to be in pain. And you were more than willing to help him alleviate it.

You moved your hand forward, but before you could try to wrap your fingers around him, Joel stopped you.

“No, with your mouth”, was his order.

You intertwined your fingers on your lower back and inclined your heard towards him. You gazed up at him, his jawline very tense. You let your tongue out and shyly tapped his glans with the tip. Joel closed his eyes immediately and grumbled loudly as his cock twitched in front of you.

That was all you needed to spur you on. You widely opened your mouth to house his manhood and sealed your lips around the head, the tip of your tongue trying to push open the slit on his foreskin. You played with him for a bit while your jaw relaxed. Then you started to push him in further and further down your mouth, as far as you could take him. His glans pushed past your uvula, you could barely breathe, just as you had imagined a few months ago ― a dream come true. You bobbed your head back and forth, feeling him in your throat, your eyes watering. But you were still not close to have his dick entirely in your mouth ― he was so damn big.

Joel growled in ecstasy as he looked down to you. The sight of you on your knees with your mouth stuffed, bright beautiful eyes, your tongue maliciously inciting him… He just couldn’t believe how giving you were.

“Look at you with your mouth so full”, he said placing one of his hands under your chin. He could feel his own cock expanding your throat. “You look so damn pretty, baby”.

You leaned back a bit, releasing most of his erection except for the tip. With the help of one hand you started pumping his shaft, the other gently massaging his balls. Joel eyed you intensely while you ate him up like a lollypop. His salty flavour inundated all your senses, your eyes pinned on his.

His fingers clenched in frustration.

“Shit, stop, I’m gonna come”, he mumbled as he pushed back to free his dick from your wicked lips.

No way in hell, you thought. He was not about to deny you that. You had been thinking about this moment for fucking months, you wouldn’t let him take that pleasure away from you.

You grasped him by his ass, your palms firmly pressing on his buttocks to take his cock even deeper. You then gave him head as best as you knew how, fastening the rhythm when you felt the pulsation coming from him.

“Fuck, baby―”, he moaned your name as he came in your hot, wet cavity.

You felt his spent hit the back of your throat. It was so tangy and musky. You swallowed all of it. Ah, delicious, you thought gleefully. You let go of his ass and released his dick from the prison of your lips.

You placed the palms of your hands on your knees, still on the ground, and glanced up at him innocently with a sweet smile painting your face. You then opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show Joel you had eaten all his cum ― a bridge of spit connecting the tip of your tongue to his glans.

He dropped one hand to break off the arch of saliva between you and him with his index, and fed it to you ― you gladly accepted, sucking his finger clean.

“Did I do good, sir?”, you asked with a small voice, looking for praise.

“Good? You did fucking splendid, sweetheart”, you beamed with the compliment and got up to your feet when he offered you a hand.

He took your hand, walking behind him as he headed towards the lake. He turned around to face you and kissed you slowly, his tongue caressing your palate. He then took a step back. The sun was setting on his back, the orange and red lighting reflecting off the waterbed. His brown eyes, bearded jaw, hooked nose, his hair curling at the nape of his neck… He looked like a roman God ― Mars, you thought. Joel looked like a man about to fight for his life and yours on the battlefield.

He sat down on a massive flat rock one metre away from the bank of the lake, which was approximately two metres wide in both directions.

“Now undress for me, baby”, he instructed.

You did not hesitate ― all your clothing fell to your feet, piece by piece, while Joel eagerly watched the show you put on. He wetted his bottom lip while he readjusted his cock on his lap. You stood there with dreamy eyes, awaiting. He motioned one hand towards the rock he was sat on, an invitation for you to join him.

Once you were sat on his right, he placed his left hand around the front of your neck ― a very slight touch that forced you to flatten your back against the rock while he positioned himself on top of you. He bit your chin while his left hand put a sweet amount of pressure on your throat. You could tell he was controlling himself.

“My turn”, he whispered, coming off you.

He got off the rock, kneeling on the ground in front of you. You put your elbows down on the rock to lift your torso and be able to look at him, your knees bent, the sole of your feet against the cold surface of the rocky platform. Joel grabbed you by the hips and scooted your ass over to the edge of the rock. Your legs were firmly pressed against each other, trying to hide your quivering cunt ― suddenly you felt shy.

“Spread your legs open for me, darlin’, lemme see”, he commended you with his hands on your knees.

You couldn’t say no to him, you didn’t want to. So you obeyed, dropping your legs to the sides, offering him your dripping fold. He traced your slit with his index, and you moaned.

“You’re so fucking wet already. So receptive, aren’t you?”, he asked looking at you dead in the eye, his finger sinking in between your legs, looking for the entrance. “Who gets your pussy so wet?”, he pushed his fingertip in your hole, and you groaned loudly. “Who, darlin’? Use your words”.

“You, only you, sir”, you gasped.

“This is mine”. He pushed in the second phalange.

You closed your eyes, trying to control your breathing.

“All yours, yes”.

His finger got completely sucked in down to his knuckle, stroking your g-spot. You harshly pressed your lips.

“Exactly, don’t you dare forget that”, his tone was so serious you looked at him enigmatically, not really understanding where that sudden possessiveness came from, but you loved every bit of it. And you were more than happy to put his doubts to rest.

You nodded frantically.

“I would never, sir, I swear my pussy is all yours”, you really meant it.

“As it should be”, he added a second finger as he leaned forward and kissed your mound.

You sighed, eyes teary, and flattened your back against the rock again, as Joel made out with the fatty skin above your clit. He introduced a third finger, all of them rubbing your anterior wall. Then his mouth dropped and sucked in your clit. Your knees trembled while you held both of your breasts, playing with your nipples and biting down your lip to stop your wanton screams. He insisted with his kissing until your wet cunt started fluttering around his fingers, a clear tell you were about to come. He stroked your clit with his teeth, very lightly, sending shivers up your spine. Your legs pressed against his head, tension building up. And then, finally, sweet release. You came so hard on his mouth, and he drank it all.

He unburied his head from in between your legs and glanced at you with a sufficient smile.

“You taste even better directly from your creamy cunt, baby”, you were glad he was so talkative during sex, especially if it was to praise you.

Joel placed the palm of his hand over your mound, his fingers covering your damp pussy, and rubbed with just the right amount of friction. You exhaled slowly.

“I’m gonna make you come again”, he promised.

You pursed your lips, your cunt palpitating at the prospect.

“I don’t know if I can―”, you uttered under your breath.

He raised an eyebrow, almost as if he was offended. Joel grabbed your thighs and pulled towards him; the back of your knees placed on his shoulders.

“Don’t doubt me, of course you can. I said I’ll make you”, his mouth was so close to your moist pussy you felt his cool breath on your damp skin.

You whimpered when his tongue swept your entire slit unhurriedly, from your perineum to your clit, his hand climbing up your body to squeeze one of your breasts firmly. Joel repeated that move a few times ― and your brain chemistry would be changed forever after that. He briefly pinched your nipple while he paid special attention to the core of your pleasure. Joel smothered your clit with his lips ― you closed your eyes while placing a hand over his on your boob.

Joel’s tongue stopped torturing you for a second. He nudged your clit with the tip of his hooked nose and then inhaled your sweet smell. That scent was making him go wild with lust to the point where he started fisting his cock, the tip already leaking with precum. He flattened his tongue against your swollen lips, wiggling it through the slit to touch your needy hole. He could not believe you were this wet for him ― if he had the chance, he would drink from your seeping fold every single day. This was how ambrosia tasted like ― he was damn sure of it.

He placed his hands to each side of your puffy flaps to spread your pussy open, while the tip of his tongue slipped inside of you. Your free hand flew to his head, fisting a handful of hair. Your toes clenched as he started to fuck your hole with his tongue. You felt your whole uterus contracting so hard it was almost painful. Your cum started to ooze out as a new orgasm hit you with full force, yelling his name. Joel did not waste any of it, licking it off you shamelessly.

What just happened ― that felt like sin, the most beautiful sin you had ever experienced. Your breathing was so irregular you thought you were going to have a heart attack. Then you heard Joel snickering as he got back up to his feet.

“See? Told ya”, he said smugly as you placed the elbows on the rock to lift your chest and glance at him.

He was jerking off, his cock ready for you again. You sat back up and leaned forward, your hands on his muscular thighs as you kissed the slippery tip, the shaft, then his balls. You showered pecks all over his manhood, worshipping it.

“S-sorry, sir, can I ask? Is your cock only mine? P-please?”, you asked in between smooches, almost panting, looking at him with puppy eyes.

Joel’s irises were swirling with desire, his hips slightly slanted forward towards your mouth, his dick visibly spasming while he caressed your cheek.

“All yours, yes”, he replicated your exact words, your heart fluttering with contempt.

You smiled at him before licking his testicles again ― your hand pushing his shaft against his lower belly to give you better access. Your eyes never abandoned his as your saliva covered his soft ball sacks.

This time he did step back, and you let him.

“I need you inside me, please”, you murmured.

His jaw was so tight he didn’t dare to speak. Joel could feel his heartbeat on his cock, all because of you and your wanton mouth. You looked so damn beautiful ― on your knees, staring at him through your eyelashes, patiently waiting. He knew you very well by now, fully conscious that as sweet as you were acting now, that was it ― an act. And he loved every bit of it. He liked the way you replied to him when sex wasn’t involved, taking no shit from anyone, your snarky remarks driving him crazy.

Joel sat down on the rock and motioned for you to join him on his lap. You joyfully obliged, sitting atop of him. Your knees to each side of his waist, your bust against his, skin to skin. Your nipples grazed his chest, becoming harder at the electric contact. He cupped both of your boobs and pushed them up, so he could kiss them tenderly. You sighed, your mouth against his ear. Still holding your breasts, he unattached his lips from your nipples to peck your chin.

“Fuck me, darlin’”.

You looked down between you two. His erection was so prominent you knew it was hurting him. And you could ease that pain for him. Heaving, you lifted your hips up and grabbed his dick. It was hard but soft at the same time, velvety, very warm and beating. So sensitive to the touch he groaned ― music to your ears. You hugged his neck with your free arm as you guided his tip to your leaking entrance.

With a sudden drop of your hips, you impaled yourself harshly ― his bollocks kissing your tumid lips. You circled your hips against his, very slowly, which made you both moan in unison. Then you raised your body, his cock slipping out completely. Holding him from the base, you came down on him sharply again.

Joel was close to losing his mind. If you did that one more time, he wasn’t going to be able to hold it for much longer. You seemed to understand that, because you started to rock your hips back and forth, up and down. He kneaded your ass, feeling your rhythm, spurring you on. His fingers squeezed the skin under them while he kissed your collarbone. His mind was completely blank ― he could only focus on your sweet pussy hugging him, choking him. His dick felt so wet, so hot, throbbing for release… You kept on riding him, your movements growing erratic as you both were close to climax.

You surrounded Joel’s neck with both arms, pressing your breasts against his handsome face, your hips flushed with his, as your cunt angrily convulsed around his erection in blissful liberation. Joel held it together while you recovered, his hands still on your ass cheeks, fingers so clutched they were close to dislocating.

“Baby, if you don’t get off, I’m―”, pain smeared his tone. He was really fighting for his life right there and then.

“Oh, sorry”, you said with a small voice, still feeling your own pleasure. You elevated your hips, so his manhood popped out with a squelching sound.

You were not going to leave him hanging, obviously. So you kneeled before him, in between his strong legs, and kissed his tip. Joel sighed loudly when you closed off your lips around him for the second time today and pumped his shaft fast and strong, milking him dry. A minute later, your throat was clogged with his spent. A drop of it trickled down the corner of your mouth.

Joel leaned forward and caught the cum off the corner of your mouth with his thumb before rubbing it on your lips. Then he kissed you wetly, devouring you. He could never have enough of you.

“Thank you, sir”, you whispered with a smile when he was done assaulting your mouth.

He just smiled back. A genuine smile, the first you had seen from him. It tugged at your heart a little.

You were still feeling restless. Although you had orgasmed four times already, your pussy lips were so inflamed you thought you were on your way down to hell. Still on your knees in front of him, you softly massaged your sensitive clit. It was burning ― you suppressed a sob as you glanced up at him, lips slightly parted.

“What is it? Is your tight pussy still gushing, sweetheart?”, he asked you, cupping your chin.

You nodded, tears of frustration blurring your vision.

“I need more, I can’t ― my pussy is on fire, sir”, you muttered, feeling sorry for yourself. You were in a heightened state of sensory overload.

“Let me help you with that then”, you almost cried of relief at his words.

You quickly got up and kneeled on top of his lap again. He slipped a hand in between your bodies to caress your core. Your flesh trembled at the touch. Suddenly you realised you desperately needed to find your own rhythm ― you didn’t have to communicate it, Joel understood it in a second. He stopped and let you do what you had to do. You placed the palm of your hands on his shoulders and started rubbing your pussy against the side of his still hand. You slid your cunt further up to his elbow, and then returned back to his wrist. Your clit greedily welcomed the tingling sensation of the hair on his forearm against your wet slit.

You kept on rocking your hips back and forth on his forearm, pressing hard against it, sliding, rubbing and causing as much friction as you could, the heat in your belly flowing down to your crotch. You buried your fingers in his wet hair and tilted his head backwards so you could rest your forehead against his. Your inner walls contracted extremely hard and then you let go, squirting plentifully for a few never-ending seconds on Joel’s forearm. Your overstimulated cunt was leaking on top of him as if someone had opened the tap of your pleasure and couldn’t close it. When the last wave of your climax abandoned you, you looked down to see how it all trickled down from his forearm onto his lap.

You closed your eyes, content, when he gently tapped your pussy a few times. You breathed in deeply, feeling completely satisfied, finally at peace. Then you pecked his lips with gratitude.

“Better now, baby?”.

“Yes, infinitely better. I―I’m sorry I made a mess”.

“Don’t you apologise for that”.

You both remained in that position for a few minutes ― his now relaxed, wet cock warmly lodged between the flaps of your still dribbling cunt. He hugged your waist to bring you closer to him, his mouth brushing yours in a moment of calmness you had not experienced with him yet.

When his lips released yours, you placed your cheek against his right shoulder, your fingertips tracing the scar on it. Silence ensued, neither of you felt the need to fill it with words.

As much as you fought against yourself, you had feelings for Joel. Although you probably didn’t know all his faces, you knew enough about him to love him. The way he would have you on your tiptoes with his sarcastic comments, his bluntness, his rudeness, the way he would snap back at you when you pressed his buttons ― but also his kindness, his caring side, his softness, how he worried about you making sure you were okay, his demanding sexual needs, the way he made you feel when his hands mapped out your skin.

But you were not sure what he thought about all of this. In some respects, his mind was inscrutable. It was part of his charming personality, you guessed. You kissed the scar on his shoulder as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“I love how you smell”, he murmured.

“Is that the only thing you love about me?”, you couldn’t resist, the words just slipped out of your mouth. You wished you could take them back, but it was too late for that.

Joel slightly froze in place at your question. He couldn’t deny that he had started to develop feelings for you. The way you looked at him made him want to be a better person. Although you drove him crazy sometimes, you made his days bearable, a shining beautiful light amongst so much darkness. You were his lighthouse, guiding him to shore. He just needed to learn how to surf through the violent waves before he could safely approach the coast.

Knowing how close he had been to losing you had opened his eyes to a new, unknown reality. He would literally kill for you if he had to ― he had already done it and would do it all over again without blinking. No regrets whatsoever.

But he had some unresolved trust issues when it came to romantic relationships. Joel married Sarah’s mother, Charlotte, when they were both twenty-one years old, as soon as they knew they were expecting. The first two years were very hard on them both, parenthood was not a piece of cake. Resentment had grown between them, to the point where Charlotte had accused him of robbing her of her fun years, which led her to cheat on him. They tried to salvage their marriage for the sake of Sarah, but they never did ― Charlotte died in a car accident while on a heated, angry phone call with Joel.

He locked away those thoughts ― it wasn’t the time nor the place to dwell on the past. Not when he had you with him.

“I… well, no. I love everything about you, sweetheart”, he conceded.

Your heart skipped a beat with joy. No, it wasn’t a love confession, but it was much more than what you were expecting of him. You turned your face against his neck and placed a kiss on his Adam’s apple.

“C’mon, let’s freshen up, I want to clean my mess off you, I do feel a bit bad”, you said with a chuckle.

You got off his lap, the cool breeze touching your sweaty skin. You offered him a hand, which he took, standing up behind you. Without letting go of his fingers interlaced with yours, you guided him to the water. It was cold, but you ventured inside with Joel following you. When the level was up to your waist, you turned around in Joel’s embrace.

You proceeded to wash off your cum and his off his cock, his lap, his forearm. When you were done, he kissed the top of your head. His left hand did the same to you, his fingers caressing your pussy, cleaning the proof of your shared pleasure. He did so not in a sexual way, but in a caring, intimate way. A minute later, you both disappeared beneath the water to emerge a second later, to wash off all the sweat. You found yourself in his arms again, your cheek against his chest ― you could hear his heart beating loudly but steadily.

“Joel, I―”, you didn’t know where to start. There were thoughts you had been wanting to put into words for a while now. “What happened to me sucks and I still die a bit inside when the memories come back at night. But none of it was your fault, nor mine. I do not want those bastards to win, to ruin my life. And my life with you. And I know it will take time to heal that part of me, or maybe it will never heal, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want you. I want you so badly, Joel, but what I do not want is you walking on eggshells around me. I’m not broken, I want to move forward, not get stuck in the past. Do you understand what I mean?”, you asked, your cheek still against his chest, looking up at him.

His eyes were focused on yours. His heart shrunk a bit, sharing your pain. If he could, he would take it away, all of it ― the fear, the panic attacks, the agony, the memories, the nightmares. But he couldn’t change the past. So, he nodded.

“I do, honey”, he whispered as he bowed down to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

You both stood there for a few more minutes, hugging each other in silence. Then Joel grumpily ended the embrace.

“We should get back, Tommy is going to kill us”.

You laughed because it was so true. You both got out of the lake, towelled down and got dressed. You started walking towards the campsite besides him ― your hand in his, fingers entangled. When you saw the tent and Tommy’s outline against the fire, you got ready to release his hand. But he didn’t let go when Tommy turned around to look at both of you.

You tried to hide a soft smile ― and failed.

The younger Miller noticed you holding hands but made no comment about it. But he did smile. A very wide smile.

“Well, about damn time, dinner is almost ready”, he said with amusement, pointing to the rabbit impaled with a stick roasting on top of the fire. “If you took any longer, the rabbit was going to come back to life and run away”.

“Always so theatrical, Tommy”, you chuckled.

[late-to-the-party-81]

His little dolly

AN: Here we go, party-people. Here is the third part of my DBF Steve, officially making it a Series by the rules of Jen. This is actually based on the original idea by the lovely @krissy25 which started the whole thing off. It also actually adds some plot, which I was not expecting. It is, however, still absolute filth

Beta’d by @endlesstwanted, wrangler of commas

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@steverogersbingo  - C3 - Free Space

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Summary: You have to try and control yourself when your parents and you spend the day helping Steve building his new deck. The evening, however, is a different matter.

Relationship: DBF Steve x Inexperienced Reader

Word count: 4.3k

CW: AU: No Powers, Age difference (Steve 40s, Reader early 20’s), Soft Dark Steve, Power Imbalance, Secret relationship, Oral Sex (F receiving), Fingering, Squirting, Unprotected PIV Sex (reader on BC), Pussy slapping, Breath-play, Under-negotiated kink, Mild Angst, Implied Somnophilia, Implied Cum eating, Steve Rogers Dirty Talk, Bimbo-fication.

This was going to be torture. You were going to be spending the whole day with Steve, which on the surface, sounded like a dream - you only usually spent snatched moments together. However, your parents were also going to be there this time. 

Your Dad had gleefully announced three days ago that you’d all be spending Saturday at Steve’s house, having a cook-out while he and Steve worked on renovating Steve’s deck. So here you were, in the backseat of your Dad’s car as he drove the couple of miles across town to get there. You’d be so near but so far, and you had no idea how you were going to keep it together, especially since you hadn’t seen him in a week and he was still in possession of your toy-box.

The car lurched as your Dad pulled up outside Steve’s house, braking a little too hard, and you could almost hear his eyes roll as your Mom clicked her tongue at him. As they both got out of the car you put your best game face on and joined them. 

It was a warm day, and determined not to be labelled as a ‘useless woman’ you’d eschewed your normal hot weather wardrobe of a sundress. Instead you’d put on sturdy sneakers, some denim shorts and a baggy sleeveless tee, intending to help out with Steve’s renovations. You hoped that if you were busy, you’d be able to distract yourself from being so close to what you wanted.

That plan went straight out the window almost immediately. The three of you walked up the path, but instead of heading to the front door your Dad veered off toward the gate that went directly into the back yard. He pushed it open, holding it for you and your Mom, and you followed her through it. 

You came to a grinding halt as all thoughts were driven from your head.

Steve had already started working, and he must have been at it for a while because he’d already discarded his shirt and had a sheen of sweat over his body.

Your mouth went dry and you barely noticed the way you pressed your thighs together, your clit already throbbing with arousal. He looked like a god come to life.

Yes, you’d seen him naked more than once, but you’d never seen him like this in the bright light of day, just looking so masculine. Was there a name for this kink? The urge to just lick the sweat from his pecs was almost overwhelming.

“Sweetie? Are you okay?” Your Mom’s voice pulled you back into reality.

“Umm, yeah. I - uuh - just got something in my eye.” You blinked rapidly and rubbed at your right eye to bring credence to your story, but it seemed that your Mom wasn’t fooled. She leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially. 

“He is rather distracting, I’ll grant you.”

“Mom!” You felt your cheeks flame with embarrassment, and looked around to see if either your Dad, or god forbid Steve, had heard. “You can’t say things like that,” you hissed out.

Your Mom just gave you a wink. “Married, not dead, sweetie. Just don’t look at boys your own age like that - they might take it the wrong way and try to take advantage.”

You bit your tongue, desperately hoping she wouldn’t work out your secret just by looking at your face. Luckily you were saved by an unlikely ally when your Dad shouted out for your Mom’s attention as he tried to locate his tool belt. “I’m gonna go and get the cooler from the car,” you shouted, desperate for a few moments alone to compose yourself.

Spending all day with Steve was one thing, but spending it with him when he was topless, his skin kissed by the sun, and with him letting out little grunts of effort that reminded you too much of other noises? Well, you’d be lucky not to just orgasm on the spot and then the game would be up.

You jogged back down Steve’s front path to where your Dad’s car was parked at the curb. You popped the trunk, and were just leaning into it to lift out the cooler full of beer and meat for the cookout when a shadow fell over you.

You whirled around, coming straight into eye contact with the physique you’d just been admiring.

“Hey, Babydoll. You look a little warm. Something got you all flustered?” The way he teased you normally got you going, but given the current situation it just made you cross. You stepped away, needing space to breathe, and looked over at his smirking face. At least he’d thrown his shirt back over his shoulders, but it wasn’t buttoned and his chest was just there. 

“You’ve done this on purpose,” you ground out, trying not to raise your voice and catch your parents’ attention.

“I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart,” Steve drawled mockingly, as he reached into the trunk and effortlessly picked up the cooler. “I just got a bit overheated while working and needed to strip off. Surely, you can understand that. And anyway, I’m just your Dad’s friend - not your type in any case.”

“Fuck you!” you whispered, full of both anger and arousal. 

Steve stepped back up onto the sidewalk heading back towards his house, but he paused as he passed you, ducking his head to whisper in your ear. “Later, Babydoll. Later. And don’t go touching yourself when you go to the bathroom. I’ll know if you do…”

He walked away, and you gave yourself a few seconds to take in some deep breaths before following him back into his yard. He was already talking to your Mom when you got there, back to being the genial friend of the family.

“Thank you for bringing over the food and agreeing to come help out. I expected it to just be me and Twinkle-toes over there.” He jerked his head in your Dad’s direction, who pouted at the nickname, and your Mom threw back her head and laughed.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all, Steve. You’re like family. You know we think of you like a brother.”

Steve glanced over at you, and the look you saw in his eyes was in no way ‘uncle-like’. You shivered and tried not to think of all the things the two of you had done - things that would probably make your Mom faint and your Dad go apoplectic. 

There was only one way you were going to get through this day, so purposefully ignoring Steve you strode over to where your Dad was looking at the decking planks, a measuring tape in hand and a carpenter’s pencil between his teeth.

“How can I help?” you asked, and got stuck in.

Your plan worked to a certain extent. At least while you were helping your Dad measure and cut, or helping your Mom prepare the food for the grill. However, everytime you thought you had your equilibrium back on an even keel, Steve seemed to somehow know and would make a point of brushing past you or would stand in your eye line. He’d then tip his head back and drink from his beer, uncaring if any errant drops spilled from his mouth and trickled down his throat and chest. A few times you were tempted to disobey him - go to his bathroom and relieve the tension building in your core. You even wondered if you could sneak off to his bedroom and use his pillow to get yourself off, but you weren’t that brave.

The hours passed by fast despite each minute feeling like an eternity, and it was with a sense of pride that you realised that your assistance had actually been useful - Steve’s deck was almost complete. The railings on one side still needed to be put into place and the protective wood stain needed to be added, but all in all it was a success. 

Now you were all relaxing on loungers, having filled up on burgers, wieners and your Mom’s potato salad, sipping on the remaining beers. 

Your parents and Steve had been talking about local goings-on while you’d been daydreaming when Steve directed a question to you.

“So, d’you think you’ll have the energy to meet up with your girlfriends after all your efforts today?”

For a moment you were confused. You had no plans after this, let alone with any girlfriends, but then a lightbulb came on in your head. “Oh, uh, yeah. I’ve just gotta check if they still wanna go out. They weren’t sure, which is why I hadn’t mentioned it,” you turned to your parents, hoping they found it plausible. Your Dad just waved his hand.

“You’re a grown up now, sweetie. You don’t need to account for your movements to us. We know you’re sensible. And it won’t be too long now before you spread your wings and leave the nest completely - get that job you’ve been dreaming of.”

“Oh,” said Steve with interest. “What job is that?”

“Hasn’t she told you?” Your Mom sat forward in her chair, full of excitement. “She’s got an interview for an internship at Walker Industries. Our baby’s on the up and up.”

“Mom,” you groaned. “It’s not that glamorous. It’s really just glorified data entry.”

“But it’s a big company,” your Mom argued back. “International. And you’re smart and ambitious. You’ll be working your way up in no time.”

Neither her or your Dad seemed to notice how quiet Steve had gone - how his now dark gaze was settled squarely on you -, but you did and you couldn’t work out what it meant. Then, with a smack of his hands on his thighs, Steve stood up.

“Well, it’s been a long day and I really do appreciate the help and the company, but if Little Miss Social Life here has something planned, I’d best let you go.”

Your Dad looked at his watch and gasped, making some comment about time flying, and then you were all caught up in a flurry of activity and goodbyes. Your Dad checked he had all his tools and your Mom made sure she had all her food containers, despite Steve’s insistence he should keep them to wash up and return at another point. Ten minutes later, you were all back in the car heading home.

Twenty minutes after that you were under the shower, washing the sweat and dirt of the day off yourself and trying to ignore how every nerve ending in your body was on fire from the anticipation of what was to come. In another forty minutes, you’d tried on and discarded various different outfits, trying to find just the right one. It was proving difficult because your parents thought you were going out with the girls, so your outfit had to reflect that, but at the same time Steve preferred a certain aesthetic on you - loving you in little sundresses and flirty skirts. However, having emptied most of your meagre wardrobe over your bed and your floor, you finally settled on something that you hoped would work - a hot pink dress with spaghetti straps and skirt that swirled when you moved. You slicked on some light make-up, again trying to strike the balance right, grabbed your purse and jogged down the stairs.

You shouted a hurried ‘good-bye’ to your parents, who were cuddled up on the couch sleepily watching one of their favourite police procedural dramas, and finally made your way out of the door. While walking down the darkening sidewalk, your jacket slung over your arm, you checked your phone. You’d sent Steve an estimate of when you’d be ready and hoped he’d be waiting for you at the end of the block. There was no response to the text you’d sent to the number saved under ‘Janice’, and you started to feel nervous until you turned the corner and saw the vehicle you’d been on the lookout for.

Feeling a bit giddy, you skipped over, opening the passenger door and sliding in beside Steve. You threw your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his. He looked back at you, indulgently, and licked his lips.

“You look like a doll come to life, sweetheart.”

You preened under his praise. “I’m glad you like it,” you replied, smoothing the hot pink fabric over your legs.

“If I was less of a gentleman, I’d have my way with you here and now,” he growled, dramatically.

“And if you were more of a gentleman, I wouldn’t even be here,” you teased back.

“Brat,” he replied with a chuckle and a warning pinch to your thigh. “Behave.”

“Yes, Steve.” You pouted and batted your eyelids, and he chuckled again before putting his car in drive and peeling away from the curb. As he drove, you gave him sideways glances, studying his profile as you hummed to the music on the stereo and tapping your hands on your lap. The streetlights helped to highlight the streaks of grey at his temples, and you longed to run your fingers through it. You just had to be patient, though - it wouldn’t be long until Steve had you spread out on his bed and you’d have the chance to do just that.

Heat started to pool within you, the anticipation making you fidgety, and you let out a sigh of relief when Steve steered the car up his drive and into his garage. As soon as he killed the engine, he was making his way around your side of the car to open the door. He helped you out and then immediately took your face in his large hands, laying a demanding kiss on you. You squeaked briefly in surprise before leaning into it, your hands fisting his shirt for balance. You’d worn higher heels than normal and weren’t used to the change in your centre of gravity. 

Steve smiled against your lips, sliding his hands down your body until he grasped your ass and lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your skirt riding up, and dug your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. He walked across the garage but didn’t take you through the door into the main house, instead heading out into his backyard. He lowered you slowly, your bodies sliding against each other until your feet hit the new planks.

“Why are we out here, Steve? We spent all day on this damn thing.”

He smiled at you in the moonlight. “Exactly, Babydoll. You helped me build it, so now you have to help me christian it.”

You cocked your head at him, brows furrowed, and then realisation hit. “Oh!”

Steve pulled you back into his embrace. “Oh, indeed,” he said, and then he lowered his mouth to yours again, demanding entrance and acting as though he was going to devour you. You gave back as good as you got, feeling desperate for his touch. “Today was so hard,” he muttered against your lips. “Every time you bent over in those shorts, fuck. There were moments where I almost didn’t care that your parents were here. I wanted to rip them from you and take you right here.”

“‘Wasn’t any easier for me,” you murmured back. “My Mom saw me staring at you - I think she thinks I’ve got a crush on you. Warned me not to look at boys my age the way I look at you.”

“As if you’d dare,” came the jesting reply.

Steve’s hand skimmed down your side until it reached the hem of your dress. It made its way under, his palm sliding over your thigh working its way up to your hip where it stopped, and he pulled back from your kiss.

“Sweetheart, have you come out without any panties on?”

You peered up at him, coyly from under your lashes. “Maybe…” It was your turn to smirk.

“Fuck,” he barked and then dropped straight to his knees, his hands throwing up your skirt so he could grasp your naked ass and pull you onto his face. His tongue found its way, unerring, between your folds and straight to your clit, giving you no time to prepare yourself.

“Steve!” you screeched before biting down on your lip, and grabbing hold of his head as you tottered on your heels. “Oh god!”

He was like a man possessed, slurping lewdly at your sex and alternating between sucking on your clit and thrusting his tongue in and out of your spasming cunt. It was a vicious onslaught of pleasure that left you dizzy and out of breath. When he pressed two of his fingers inside of you without warning, you had to let go of him with one hand so you could bite down on the base of your thumb to stop from screaming in ecstasy. “Give it to me, Babydoll. I need you to make a mess.”

He stroked that special spot inside of you without pause, and sucked on your clit as your legs shook. There was a heavy feeling inside your core, like the building of an orgasm but different, as he kept up his pleasurable torture.

“Steve!” You gasped. “I…I’m gonna…what’s happening?”

He didn’t answer, just kept up what he was doing, driving you closer to the brink and also towards something unknown. When you came, it was with a massive release of pressure. Your body jerked in his hold, your eyes rolled up and you felt a wet flood between your legs. You heard Steve moan into your cunt, and then you heard the patter of liquid onto the wood between your feet. You felt like you were flying and sinking at the same time.

“What the fuck?” You slurred as Steve slowly rose back to his feet.

“You squirted, sweetheart. So fucking sexy.”

“I what?” You squeaked, unbelieving. “But isn’t that…” A feeling of shame started to wash over you, but Steve interrupted it, pressing one of his fingers to your lips.

“Yes, but also no. Don’t think too much about it, honey. It’s nothing to be ashamed of - it’s natural. Just means you were really turned on, and let me tell you, it’s quite the ego boost to do that to you. Made me even harder.”

His eyes narrowed and he took hold of your hand, so much smaller than his and placed it over the bulge in his jeans.

“It’s gonna make it a lot easier for me to slip inside that tight pussy of yours too. She’s so wet, ‘m gonna just slide right in. And fuck, it’s gonna make some beautiful sounds. Would you like that, Babydoll? Want me to stuff this fat cock into your hungry cunt? See if I can make you squirt again?”

His words hypnotised you and you groped at his cock, staring up at him with your mouth wide open and your eyes glazed with lust. Fuck, you could feel your cum running down your bare thighs. “Please,” you begged, your tone husky and full of need.

As if you were a rag doll, Steve steered you backwards until your back hit one of the completed portions of railing. He spun you to face it and then plastered himself against your back. The heat of him burned through your dress, and his breath tickled your ear. “I’m gonna take you right here and you’re gonna be good for me and take it. You’re gonna be quiet too - we don’t want Mrs Kennedy next door coming out to find out what’s going on.”

You heard the metallic snick of his fly being lowered and your eyes fluttered closed. Steve’s foot tapped yours and you widened your stance, taking hold of the railing for stability. Slowly, he pulled your skirt up above your hips and his cock nudged against your naked ass. Steve placed his left hand, fingers splayed over your stomach, holding you right where he wanted you as he guided his cock to the entrance of your cunt and then pressed in with one hard thrust.

You choked back your cry, your fingers tightening their grip on the wood in front of you.

“Good girl,” Steve praised, and he started to fuck into you with long, firm strokes. “Such a perfect little dolly, just for me.”

His right hand came up to the straps of your dress and bra, lowering them down your arms so he could free your breasts. The cool evening air blew across you, making your nipples peak, and you moaned low in your throat as Steve rolled each of them in turn, plucking and pulling at them in a way that was both painful and oh-so-good.

He fucked you languidly, building you up slowly. His left hand moved down and he drew lazy circles over your clit - enough to have you whimpering with need, but not enough to bring you to orgasm.

“I’m gonna fuck you just like this - slow and deep - until you feel like you’re gonna burst. I want you to come on me and fucking soak my cock like you did my hand. I want your cum to splatter all over this fucking deck. I want you to feel so much pleasure that you never want to look at another man.”

Your mind was hazy with lust, your hips moving to meet his thrusts. “Don’t want anyone but you, Steve. Make me feel so good.”

A small change in the angle of Steve’s thrusts had his cock rubbing over your g-spot the same way his fingers had earlier. The feeling of your orgasm building still felt strange, but at least you knew what to expect. You just didn’t know how you were going to stay silent, though.

He cruelly twisted one of your nipples just as he thrust forward and reedy warble left your throat. Steve responded by slapping your clit, and even as the sharp pain registered you heard the wet squelch as he did so, your squirt already starting to seep out of you as he continued his assault on your cunt.

“I said to stay quiet,” he hissed.

The pressure inside you was rising once more, and you knew you were close. “I don’t think I can,” you whined, and your body convulsed as he fucked into you. “I’m so close. Please, Steve. I… I…”

“Aawww, does my Babydoll need help?”

You bit your lip and nodded, unable to comprehend how he was going to do it. 

Steve took his left hand from your clit and trailed the back of his knuckles up your side, then settled it around the base of your throat. “Do you trust me, sweetheart?” His voice rumbled in your ear.

“Yes,” was your whispered response. You trusted him with your life.

“Then take over touching that pretty clit for me and just relax.”

You let go of the railing with your right hand and did as he asked, feeling how soaked you were as you started to play with your clit. As you started to crest higher, unable to hold back little pleasures squeaks, Steve resettled his left hand on your throat and began to lightly squeeze. Your noises stopped as your airway was constricted. Everything within you was concentrated on the feeling building in your cunt, and as black spots began to form in front of your eyes, your body began to tremble.

When Steve let go of your neck, your orgasm exploded out of you. His hand immediately clapped over your mouth, leaving you to breathe out your scream through your nose as you jerked on his cock like a puppet on a string. The gush of liquid that erupted from your cunt flooded over your hand and onto the deck like a waterfall.

“Fucking god,” Steve exclaimed, the movement of his hips finally speeding up as he chased his own release inside your spasming channel, adding his own cum to the sticky mess leaking from you. 

You collapsed against him, unsure how you were even still upright after that. Another whimper left you as Steve pulled himself from your body, but he immediately scooped you up in his arms and carried you inside, walked up the stairs, and placed your exhausted body on his bed. When he didn’t immediately lie down next to you, you blinked your eyes open. “Steve?”

“I’ll be right there, sweetheart,” he assured, and you watched as he pushed down his jeans and briefs. Your eyes widened when you realised they were sodden.

“Oh my god! Did I do that?”

Steve grinned as he climbed naked onto the bed and crawled over you. “You did and don’t you dare apologise. Whenever I wear them from now on I’ll think of you and how fucking sexy you are. Now you rest for a bit. I have more plans for you, and I need to make sure you get home at a plausible time.”

You pouted as you took in his words. This was the thing you really hated about your relationship - if you could call it that -, you couldn’t just curl up next to him and stay the night the way you wanted to. Would you ever be able to be open about your relationship, or was it doomed from the start?

However, your body was totally wrung out from Steve’s ministrations, and it wasn’t long until you fell into a doze, your body pressed up against his.

Steve looked down at you as you took your rest. You looked so innocent - so young - as you slept. He shouldn’t want you this much, but he did, even if he’d go to hell for it. He’d burn the world for you. 

When your mother had announced you were hoping to work for Walker Inc, it had taken all of his self control not to stand up and forbid it. Who was he to do so? Besides, it wasn’t your fault that Walker was a grade A ass-hole. 

Steve had no doubt that you’d ace the interview, so he’d just have to hope that the CEO didn’t notice you. If he did, the sleazeball would have no qualms about trying to take advantage of you. A little voice inside his head pointed out that he’d already done just that. He batted it aside. The difference was that he cared for you. Walker cared about nothing but himself.

You let out a sleepy little noise as you snuggled into his side and he turned back to you. He’d give you another half an hour, and then he was planning to feast on your messy pussy. That should wake you up with a smile. Then he’d watch you bounce on his cock, like the little dolly you were.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989

[hms-tardimpala]

A statement on ficbinding (according to me)

I've joined the book/ficbinding tag on tumblr a couple of weeks ago, and in that time I've seen some confusion and concern about what ficbinding is, so I thought I'd post a statement of how I see ficbinding and why I do it. (If you're an author and I redirected you to this post because I want to bind your fic, hiiii) (Fellow ficbinders, if you find this post a useful ressource, don't hesitate to use it yourselves)

What's ficbinding?

Ficbinding (also called fanbinding) means a reader is going to print your fic and make a book out of it. It goes from the simple single booklet stapled together to leatherbound gold-foiled volumes.

Are you gonna make money off of my writing?!

I wouldn't dream of it. Ficbinding is just another fandom practice: you can't monetize your fic writing because you don't own the universe you're writing about, and I can't monetize your fic because it doesn't belong to me. I believe there are professionals who bind fics for a price (on Etsy, maybe?) but I'm ethically opposed to it.

Why do you do it, then?

Love of the craft. I'm a craftsman, I love choosing the best fabrics, fonts and embellishments for a project and making something with my hands.

Love of your fic. I liked it so much I want it in my house! I'm not fond of reading on a screen, it drastically reduces the chances I'll re-read the fic (even if I want to). Printing your fic ensures I'll enjoy it for years to come. It's the best compliment I can pay you.

As a gift to a friend who doesn't have the skills.

And what, it happens whether I want it or not?

As you can imagine, this is kind of a gray area legally. Nothing forces a ficbinder to reach out and tell you they're binding your fic. But this is fandom, and I personally view it as a community and consider that it's only courteous to let authors know I'm doing this. If I post pictures of my binding here, I want to be able to give credit where it's due, and since most authors are very happy to see their work bound, tagging them means they'll get a nice surprise when they open tumblr. I'll always do my best to find a way to contact you (ao3 comment, tumblr if you've put it on your ao3 profile).

I don't like strangers messaging me, is there a way to let people know I agree/don't allow this without talking to someone?

Valid, and there is! The simplest way is to write it in your ao3 bio, it's called a blanket permission or a transformative works statement. For example, mine says that I allow all transformative works (ficbinding is one, like fanart) based on my fics but that I like to be notified so I can gush about it and reblog/link to it, and I put my tumblr there to make it easy to contact me.

You can build a statement with this excellent tool. Answer the questions at the bottom of the page and you'll get a clearly-worded short statement to copy-paste into your bio (you can edit it, of course). The blanket permission is the thing ficbinders look for and as a digitally socially anxious person, let me tell you, it's a life-changer.

(Now, can I bind your fic, pretty please 🥺?)

[shannaraisles]

I am in panic mode, and once again asking for help.

As some of you know, I lost my job three weeks ago. I received my last paycheck last week, and it is nowhere near enough to cover expenses. Added to this, my energy supplier decided to drop 12 months of gas on me THIS MONTH, because due to their own oversight, they haven't actually been charging me for it.

My standard outgoings in a month are around £600. This month, the gas company has upped that by £800. I am in contact with them to negotiate time to pay this over (I did an adult and everything). I am also desperately seeking work, and have a couple of interviews lined up for the next week.

I have commissions open, and I would very much appreciate any help anyone can put my way.

I have £400 in my account. In order to survive this month, I need to raise a further £500-£600, ideally by June 17th 2024.

Ko-fi

Paypal

Please help if you can - commission me if you can and want to - reblog this as far and as wide as you are able to. I know times are hard, and it sucks having to ask for help from people who I know are struggling as well.

If you would like not to see this post, please blacklist the tag #niamh needs help

Thank you for reading, if nothing else.

[spurious]

Your McShep fics are giving me life. I'm CRAVING McShep content recently - its so hard to discover a love for old fandoms that are now less active! Please send me all the great other McShep fics you stumble across, I've burned my way through your whole library

Oh my goodness!!!! This ask plus the one from a few weeks ago are really telling me I need to get back to doing fic rec posts regularly!!!!!

First of all thank you so much for your kind words about my fic 💖💖💖💖 honestly for me SGA fandom feels soooo active, even though I know it was an actual juggernaut back in the day lmao. BUT that means that there’s a MASSIVE backlog of stuff to read!!!! Just insane amounts of staggeringly good fics!!!!

And second of all you can check all my previous rec posts here: the tag is sometimes ficlets I’ve reblogged but also lots of links and lists in there!!

ANYWAY. Let me see if I can rustle up some new recs for you my friend! I have a couple of unposted recs in my notes so we’ll pop those in first:

Five People Who Know by hestia_lacey | ~4k, rated E

Five people who know exactly how John Sheppard feels about Rodney McKay.

Only read this if you’re prepared to have your heart stomped on, but ahhhhhhhh. The first part, with Jeannie, is definitely my favorite.

Wishes on a Wheel by waterfalliam | ~3.2k, rated T

The sun is gentle, faintly wrong against his skin. The wind whispers against his arms and neck that he’s alive and that counts for something, he’s never wholly alone, he still has himself—but it’s nothing like the sea breeze that feels like home.

Absolutely beautifully sad introspective Epiphany!John piece, dealing with his depression and feelings of abandonment, with a sweet ending 💖

Solitary by @esteefee | ~5k, rated M

Four days in solitary gives a guy time to think. Unless he's an idiot.

Aggggh the John voice in this is immaculate (as is to be expected from esteefee ofc). Sardonically funny with a soft and chewy emotional core that just...takes a little time and a little chipping away at to get to. But, you know, worth it.

Followed by two faves from this year’s sga secret santa, both of them variations on the theme of John and Rodney making up:

In the Dark of the Night by @hero-in-waiting | ~5.8k, rated M

The problem with arguments is that they never happen at a good time. Which is a to be expected given their nature. And the problem with trying to make up is, at least in the Pegasus galaxy, they come at an even worst time. Especially when John and Rodney get stuck off world, running from some locals who took a dislike to them immediately and five days after an argument that, in John's opinion, had started over nothing.

But at least they were together?

Love the concept of this one, love them being forced into life or death situations before being able to talk about their feelings, looooove the misunderstanding on Rodney’s part 🥰🥹

When I Think of All the Worries That People Seem to Find by @audioletter | ~2.3k, rated G

After ten years of being together, John acts like John and Rodney acts like Rodney.

Absolutely cried reading this I love it so much. The depth of knowledge that they have for each other after so long is so apparent in the best, most beautiful way.

Aaaand let’s round it out with a nice long one:

Inukshuk by murron | ~80k, rated M

A mission-gone-south isolates Rodney and John from the rest of the team. Forced to search for an Ancient outpost, they struggle to keep each other alive until the time their kidnappers prepare to sacrifice the one and purify the other.

This is absolutely a mcshep fic but I almost found that taking a backseat for me in my enjoyment of the way that the plot unfolds, the way that it’s written? Absolutely spellbinding work, I struggled to put it down.

[wrestler-smash-or-pass]

Weekly Wrapup 3/10/24

This Week's Rankings:

Utami Hayashishita - 88.9% smash

Jon Moxley (Dean Ambrose variant) - 84.6%

Eddie Guerrero - 80.5%

Edge and Beth Phoenix - 75.1%

KENTA - 75.1%

Unholy Union (Alba Fyre and Isla Dawn) - 74.3%

Carmelo Hayes - 71.6%

Bear Boulder - 69.1%

Pretty Deadly (Elton Prince and Kit Wilson) - 59.9%

Minoru Suzuki (Current Day) - 51.8%

Randy Orton with a mustache - 50.9%

Sami Callihan (CZW Era) - 26.4%

Gangrel - 24.1%

Gorgeous George - 21.4%

Average smash rating this week: 61.0%

More stats under the cut, along with my observations, commentary, and some of my favorite tags...

Most total votes this week (most enthusiasm)

Jon Moxley (Dean Ambrose) - 364 votes

Minoru Suzuki - 361

Utami Hayashishita - 343

Edge and Beth Phoenix - 338

Eddie Guerrero - 303

And least total votes this week (least enthusiasm)

Sami Callihan - 178 votes

Gorgeous George - 187

Unholy Union - 206

Bear Boulder - 217

Carmelo Hayes - 222

The closest poll was Randy Orton with a mustache, who won 115-111

Top Ten Overall

Kris Statlander - 91% smash

Athena - 90.2% smash

Hikaru Shida - 89.7% smash

Utami Hayashishita - 88.9% smash

Minoru Suzuki (Young Variant) - 88.7% smash

Swerve Strickland - 88.3% smash

Toni Storm - 88.1% smash

Hiroshi Tanahashi - 87.7% smash

Hangman Adam Page - 86.4% smash

Bianca Belair - 86.4% smash

Bottom Ten Overall

Vince McMahon - 3.9% smash

Ric Flair - 4.6% smash

Kane (Corporate variant) - 10.1% smash

Miracle Violence Connection - 11.8% smash

Gene Munny - 12.4% smash

Spike Trivet - 12.% smash

Kevin Sullivan - 13.1% smash

Triple H (Terra Ryzing variant) - 18.6% smash

Eric Bischoff (NWO) - 20.0% smash

Gorgeous George - 21.4% smash

Top Women Overall

Kris Statlander - 91% smash

Athena - 90.2% smash

Hikaru Shida - 89.7% smash

Utami Hayashishita - 88.9% smash

Toni Storm - 88.1% smash

Bottom Women Overall

Eve Torres - 47.1% smash

Carmella - 47.8% smash

Nikkita Lyons - 48.2% smash

Julia Hart (Cheerleader Variant) - 49.8% smash

Kelly Kelly - 50.3% smash

Top Men Overall

Minoru Suzuki (Young Variant) - 88.7% smash

Swerve Strickland - 88.3% smash

Hiroshi Tanahashi - 87.7% smash

Hangman Adam Page - 86.4% smash

Hikuleo - 86.0% smash

Top Tag Teams

The Golden Lovers - 80.4% smash

Unholy Union - 74.3% smash

Best Friends - 66.7% smash

Motor City Machine Guns - 65.5% smash

Roppongi Vice - 62.7% smash

There were some new additions to the overall lists this week. Utami Hayashishita earned a spot on both the top overall list and the top women's list, and Gorgeous George just barely kicked Charlie Dempsey off the bottom overall list.

We've now had three polls on Jon Moxley, and the ranking is:

Current AEW Mox - 84.8% smash

Dean Ambrose - 84.6%

CZW Mox - 82.3%

Also, people prefer non-mullet Eddie Guerrero (80.5% smash) to Eddie Guerrero with a mullet (77.0% smash), and people prefer Randy Orton sans mustache (62.3% smash) to Randy Orton with mustache (50.9% smash).

Also like...88.7% of you would have done Minoru Suzuki when he was young, but only 51.8% of you would do old Suzuki? To echo the sentiments of a few reblogs, is this not the "sexualize that old man" website?

In actual blog news, the 250th poll was posted today, and we hit 500 followers a couple weeks ago but I forgot until now. Thank you so much to everyone who's followed, submitted poll requests, reblogged, liked, and otherwise interacted with this blog!

And now for some of my favorite tags and comment

@lghockey on Gorgeous George: #what in the revolutionary war is that haircut

@booboo-eyedbambi on Bear Boulder: #i need him to squish me like he's trying to get the last of his toothpaste out of me

@midcarder on Minoru Suzuki: #the only reason to not fuck suzuki is because you're afraid

@regalityandcoffee on Carmelo Hayes: #on one hand hes hot#in the other hand i once had a dream he tried to kill me so- I once had a dream that William Regal put drugs in my suitcase as I was going on vacation with Mox. Wrestlers are rude af in dreams.

[thesadboisguidetolife]

My sweet angel @iamanimaginarybeing tagged me to post a selfie and answers some questions so here we go!!

Had to pull the shirt down because these trunks leave NOTHING to the imagination lol also because this shirt is one of my favorites

Are you named after anybody? I was actually given my name BECAUSE my mom didnt want me to have the "family name" lol

Do you have any kids? i do! i dont talk about it much though because its not my place to put out my kids info like that unless they're comfortable with it.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? Nooooooooooooooo. Not at aaaalllllll.

When was the last time you cried? Oh babe, i cry a good amount lol. there was a post i reblogged about the guy who went back to retake this picture in this old timey place that had me misty eyed. If we're talkin like haaaard cry..... a couple of weeks ago my depresso got kinda bad and i had me a little cry in the shower. but im good now 🥰

Whats the first thing you notice about people? oh God im gonna come across SUPER LA but, the vibes. Whether someones timid, loud, how they talk, body language, just the whole thing.

Eye Color? Brownish?!?! Ive been told i have little bits of green in them but please don't look into my eyes. I get embarrassed and feel uncomfortable in a comforting way if that makes ANY sense at all

What sports do you/have you played? Soccer and Basketball in teams growing up. Nothing much other than that lol

Any Special Talents? I can knit, crotchet, play guitar, bass, ukulele, im decent with a sewing machine, i can cook, i would like to think that im getting better at photography, i can pop my left shoulder out of my socket (?) haha this ones hard for me.

Where were you born? In the Antelope Valley, Southern California.

Scary Movies or happy endings? Scary Movies WITH Happy Endings. FUCK The Strangers. I love/hate that movie so much and i know it goes against my answer because it has one of thee most fucked up endings but.....damn lol

Do you have any pets? 2 cats

How Tall are you? a humble 5'6". lol

Favorite subject in school? Cooking, followed by French, followed by Weight Training lol

Dream Job? Cook at the Queer Commune lol honestly, i think im currently working on something id LOVE to do till the end of time but we'll see. I dont want to jinx it

Imma tag @sucker-for--anything-acoustic @campcrow2 @adamsmasher @floofiest-doof @beast-0f-lavendertown @circle-of-power @odeada-nightspawn @jambos6 @spider-boy1989 @skiingcows @snikt-yip @penismage @traumadumpling @chibi-masshuu @kaleidoscope-cosmic-power for now 🥰

[armoricaroyalty]

A long time ago, I had an idea to make a really detailed survey to get a sense of how the average reader consumes stories on simblr, but the project as I imagined it was too ambitious and I lost steam. I decided to revive a version of it using tumblr polls, so I'll be posting a couple questions in the coming weeks/days and then putting together a synthesis post with all the responses.

please reblog so I can get a decent sample size!

[teen--marvel]

hey, hey, party people! how we doing? i really hope you said great, but if not, have no fear! the weekly check in is here!!

i used to do these a lot a couple of years ago, and i haven't done one in 34 weeks! let's get into it.

if you've been here before, you know how this works, lol. but if you haven't, the "rules" are as follows; you follow at least ONE bullet point in this list, you're more than welcome to reblog and share to remind your other moots/followers how fucking badass they are. that's it!! i also like to put in here how i've been doing, as well, so that you won't feel to anxious about sharing how you've been doing.

i haven't been doing that great mentally. i've had major writers block, my oldest has been acting out the last few days, we have one more week of school (which also means one more week of babysitting... which i'm kind of stressing over), and just all the things, really. let me know how y'all have been in either the comments/replies, my inbox or my dm's.

now, let’s get into our points, shall we? 

i hope y’all;

drink your water or tea (gotta stay hydrated, my lovelies) 🥤

eat some good ass food (whatever your heart and stomach is telling you) 🍕🍟🥞🧇🍔🌭🥪🌮🌯🍝

remember that you’re a boss ass bitch and ain’t nobody can touch you (because you’re 🎵BAD, YOU’RE BAD, YA’KNOW IT🎵) 💪🏻🤘🏻💅🏻

take some time for yourself (treat yo’ self) 💸🛍️

have a self care day / weekend ; face mask, bubble bath, put on your favorite dylan o’brien, tom holland, joe keery, or joseph quinn movie / tv show or discover a new one, if the weather is nice - go sit outside with a cuppa (ahh, see what i did there? 😏) or a cup of tea or coffee or hot chocolate (pretty sure that's what a cuppa is, but just roll with it, lol)

and remember the most important thing ; you’re amazing, you’re important to a lot of people, you matter, and you’re strong, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re enough, you will conquer the world, and you’ll get through whatever hell storm comes your way 💜💜😚

remember that you have people in your corner, and if you don’t, my dm’s are always open. i'm everyone's designated hype woman <33

i hope y’all have a great weekend. i love y’all to the moon and back, and hopefully i’ll see y’all back here next time for  ✨ j e s s ’  w e e k l y   c h e c k   i n ✨

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tagging some bad bitches: @stiles-o-dylan24 @ageofevermore @lettersofwrittencollective @logangarfield @yourfavoritewitchbitch @fandom-princess-forevermore @stevesxyellowxsweater @freckledjoes @dylankeery-topp @thescoopstroopers @familyvideowithsteve @websterss @andvys @eddiemunsonsmum @eddiesxangel

[ginger-grimm]

Yello everyone!

A couple of weeks ago (before my mental health went kablooey), I asked whether or not people were interested in me hosting a birthday exchange. The vote ended in a resounding yes. I am very glad you guys aren't tired of me yet!

I've never held a birthday exchange, but I am hoping this will be fun. Since I'm unsure what the future holds for me right now, I will make this one a little smaller. I look forward to creating for you and seeing your creations.

RULES'N'STUFF:

You may make 1-2 requests (if I feel better I maybe reblog with permission to send more)

The form closes on September 25th (my birthday)

Reblog this post to spread awareness, likes don't count!

Don't need to be following but it would be always be appreciated - I do not bite

Fill out the form linked below and find the password in the form!

Pls only send me faceclaims with good quality and plenty of material to use. Also no cartoon characters. Video game characters are alright if it's motion capture.

Please, please, please fill out all the collumns I need and choose at least two gift options. It makes it infinitely easier for me to make something for you. Just remember I can't read minds and it's worse when I can't find anything in your blogs.

Remember the pleases and thank you's, we're all human

I accept pretty much any gift in return, it can even be story reviews or playlists for people who don't/can't edit themselves

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HERE IS THE FORM, THE FORM IS HERE, THE FORM WHERE YOU PUT YOUR OCS IS HERE

TAGGING: @waterloou @eddysocs @ocs-supporting-ocs @foxesandmagic @veetlegeuse @decennia @hiddenqveendom @arrthurpendragon @luucypevensie @richitozier @noratilney @wordspin-shares @oneirataxia-girl @endless-oc-creations @lucys-chen @andromedalestrange

[fatphobiabusters]

So cool of you to try to publicly shame someone who is themselves obese for not being sure if they agree with calling the term "obese" a slur. Great look. Definitely makes me agree with you. If this was a personal blog I'd be like "yeah you know what that's on me" but you literally are purporting to be a blog trying to shed light on fatphobia and that is, by its nature, going to involve an amount of education, unless you're just in it to yell at people. :)

Your tags were specifically screenshot without your url for a reason.

If you were that concerned, you could have deleted your reblog with your tags. Because your url was not shown, deleting your reblog would have deleted any trace back to you.

You revealed you are the person who wrote those tags by sending this ask.

Your tags were extremely rude, taking a post about the tragic death of a fat woman due to fatphobia and using that as a chance to claim it's "childish" to consider the incredibly harmful term "ob*se" a slur. I gave you more courtesy than you deserved by leaving out your url.

The mods of this blog have explained why the word "ob*se" is a slur over and over and over again. Just a couple of weeks ago, we were dealing with a bunch of people just like you who were making fun of the idea of "ob*se" being a slur despite the fact that it completely meets the qualifications to be considered a slur. You even mentioned yourself that the word is harmful, and yet you still called it "childish" to not accept the usage of that bigoted term.

You're even still now using that term in your ask despite my explanation to you of how that term causes the abuse and deaths of fat people around the world.

This blog receives harassment all the time. Fatphobes love to harass fat liberation blogs, including this one. Because of that, I have no tolerance for your types of comments anymore. If someone writes a reply, reblog, or tag trying to dismiss fatphobia or literally call fat activism "childish," I don't really give those people the benefit of the doubt at this point. It's kind of hard to after hearing for years from fatphobic trolls about how fat people apparently should just die, how we're a blight on the human population, and how we're subhuman and deserve the extreme abuse we receive.

Yes, this does involve an amount of education—education that we have already clearly given. I shouldn't have to link to an explanation of why the word "ob*se" is a slur for every post the mods here write just because people like you will scoff at the "audacity" of us deeming a "medical term" a slur. If you thought it was so childish, you could have easily looked at this blog for posts about the term or even just searched Google about this topic. But you didn't care. You just wanted a chance to use your internalized fatphobia as an excuse to downplay a post you pretended to support.

I have no desire to talk to you any longer and suggest you stop interacting with this blog further. I am not going to put up with any other ridiculous rhetoric, not even by a fellow "ob*se" person.

-Mod Worthy

[doctorromanapromptweek]

FAQ

(thank you @heimeldat for the banner!)

What is this?

A prompt week celebrating the pairing Doctor/Romana from the Doctor Who universe by creating and sharing themed fanworks!

When is it?

Official posting days will be April 8-14, 2024. Prompts will be released well before then so you have time to prepare if you want, and if you miss the official week, go ahead and post anyway - I'll reblog late fanworks for the rest of April.

What fanworks are allowed?

Anything! That means fic, art, graphics, vids, meta, crafts, fanmixes, reclists, and anything else you can think of. And obviously they should prominently feature Doctor/Romana as a ship :)

If you submit a reclist (list of recommendations of other people's fannish creations that fit the day's prompt), please add at least a short description of why you're recommending each work.

Please submit new fanworks, broadly construed; a new entry in an ongoing fic series, a finished version of a fanmix you've previously shared an early draft of, or a reclist containing a couple of works you've recced before would be fine, but just submitting a work you've already made and posted some time ago doesn't really fit the spirit of a prompt week. I won't be policing this, though.

How do I submit a work?

Post it, or a link to it, here on Tumblr and tag it #doctor/romana prompt week. I will be tracking that tag and will reblog all works in it to this blog.

What are the rules about NSFW and potentially triggering content?

You have control over what you choose to create, but we do ask that you include a warning if your fanwork contains material that is Not Safe for Work or fits any of AO3's archive warnings (graphic depictions of violence, major character death, rape/non-con, underage sex; or if you choose not to warn). Examples of how you could include this warning would be by tagging your Tumblr post #nsfw (or another relevant warning tag), by copying an AO3 header that includes a warnings section, or by creating your own header with a warnings section.

If your fanwork is hosted on Tumblr (rather than the Tumblr post just linking to it), please put any material that is NSFW or fits any of AO3's archive warnings under a cut.

For potentially triggering material that does not fit one of these categories, please use your best judgment to offer appropriate tags and warnings. As you browse the prompt week blog, please bear in mind that you may encounter material that you find upsetting or do not wish to see, and please use your own precautions and judgment.

Is there an AO3 collection?

Yes, if you want to post your works to AO3 you can post them to this collection! The collection will open shortly before the prompt week begins However, you are also free to host them anywhere else or directly on Tumblr. The prompt week is based on Tumblr.

Do I have to participate every day?

By no means! You are welcome to participate as many or as few days as you like. However, there will be celebratory graphics for completists who post something every day!

So what are the prompts?

Glad you asked! Here is a link to the post with this year's prompts.

Wait, who are you anyway?

I (Mod Aurelia) am usually to be found @lurking-latinist. If you would like to help out with the prompt week in some way, send me a message there!

I have another question.

Drop us an ask!

[sybaritick]

Unusual Questions for Writers: Smut Edition

the same concept as the ask game i made a couple weeks ago, but a cheeky one because I thought that'd be fun!

as before u can ask me these, and/or reblog this and have people ask them of you! <3

When you write multiple fics for the same ship, do you tend to write the same character as the dom, and/or as the top, every time? Why or why not?

Do you tend to project heavily onto one of the characters in romantic or sexual scenes, or do you see yourself as more of an observer (or voyeur?) making your Barbies kiss?

Did you write a sex scene before you had sex IRL?

Is there a kink you're into but have never had the chance to write about in a fic? What is it, and do you plan to write it eventually?

Are there any kinks you've realized you're into because of fanfic? (Bonus points for linking the fic(s) in question!)

Is there anything you've put in a fic because you find it hot/a turn-on, but you think other people likely wouldn't see it as sexual? What was it?

Quote a line from your own work you find particularly hot.

Have you written a character with a kink that you aren't into and/or don't really "understand"? What was it, and why?

What's the funniest/most unusual thing you've looked up or referenced for smut fic?

What parts of the characters' bodies do you find yourself focusing on or describing more often in horny scenes?

What reactions, expressions, and behaviors do you find yourself focusing on or describing more often in horny scenes?

How do you approach power dynamics in relationships, and which do you tend to write about? Do you like a lot of back-and-forth switching, a mentor/mentee relationship, an equal partnership where they establish a dom/sub dynamic purely in the bedroom? (of course, these are just a few options!)

What's a preference or kink you can't resist throwing a hint of into your fics, even if it's not the main subject?

Name (or tag, if you're brave!) a writer whose smut you find particularly hot and/or consider an inspiration for your own work.

What's the kink you've written about that was the most embarrassing to post/confess?

Do you have a "type" in the characters you lust after? What's the pattern?

[forabeatofadrum]

Hello and a happy El WooWoo to everyone, but more importantly, a happy birthday to Simon Snow!!! 🥳🥳🥳 Thank you @blackberrysummerblog​ for the tag.

I have a long post, actually. I am surprised myself, and also, it is not about my thesis (🤯) for a change. But anyway, a few weeks ago, I wrote a post about the Glee podcast And That’s What You Really Missed and about how they discuss Asian racism in the show, and how it resonated with me. Good ole @thnxforknowingme​ reblogged it and it got some traction and I liked reading everyone’s tags. At the end of the post, I mentioned that I started writing a fic/character study to sort of “reclaim” the weird shit that Glee put its Asian characters through. It’s about Mike, Tina, Blaine, Wes and an original character.

Tina and the OC’s story is about being adopted into a white family, Mike’s about moving to America from China as a young child, Blaine’s about being biracial and Wes’s about being the child of immigrants. As my post also said, I haven’t touched that fic since 2018. I did share some snippets of it before, here on my blog. You can find them here and here. But for this post (😉) I am opening this document again to post this:

“You learn to live with it,” Mike always says, “You start to accept casual racism from your friends.” And it’s true, but it still stings every now and then.

Mike and Tina always joke about the ‘Asian’ ‘Other Asian’ thing, but why does Coach Sylvester have to group them together like that?

Why do people always assume Mike and Tina are secretly related? Puck’s jokes about that aren’t funny anymore.

Mike knows Tina doesn’t like it when people say that they’re both Chinese.

Tina isn’t a ‘Geisha’, and people aren’t even willing to listen to her when she tries to explain that she’s Korean, not Japanese- and yes, Geishas are Japanese.

Mike and Tina are pretty sure they can eat with a knife and fork and Rachel can stop putting chopsticks in her hair.

Not gonna lie, this is good. I don’t wanna come off as conceited, but I had a rough time picking out a snippet. There are so many moments in this document (promptly called “Tina”) that are still so relatable. Also, I gave Wes the username GavelMan92. I don’t know if I will ever finish it. I can see from the document that I am writing this as a couple of standalone chapters, not one big fic, so maybe I can post some finished parts, although there is still a chronological order somewhere.

What do you guys think? Even if you aren’t a Gleek (hewwo Snowbazzians!), would you read an uncompleted fic that consists of vignettes? Or would it be better to publish all chapters separately and then add them to one series in AO3? I have written a bullet point fic for my SJAEU with this idea in mind: so that I can add later chapters out of order in a series. Even though I haven’t added anything to the SJAEU series yet (oop), it is an easy possibility and I have also been thinking about posting my Sense8/Glee AU in this way.

Ah, choices, choices.

And now, the weather. It’s calm after the storm. Yes, there was a storm in the Netherlands: @quizasvivamos @blurglesmurfklaine @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @takitalks @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @tea-brigade @ivelovedhimthroughworse @moodandmist @whogaveyoupermission @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @ionlydrinkhotwater @1908jmd @wowbright @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral​ @chen-chen-chen-again-chen​ @cutestkilla​ @nausikaaa​/@wellbelesbian​ @artsyunderstudy​ @martsonmars​ @facewithoutheart​ @shrekgogurt​ @boyinjeans​ @rockitmans​ @bitbybitwrites​ @whatevertheweather​