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billthedrake · 2 months ago

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I've been wanting to write a chubby chaser story for a while, and this is what I came up with. It's not everyone's cup of tea, I know, but for those into it, I hope to do a follow up to go deeper.

CHASER BAIT

I reracked the weights and sat up on the bench. I'd have a better workout with a spotter, but I also enjoyed the quiet of the Stanford weight room at moments like this. It was summer session, and the football team was starting their summer pre-season camp. I'd have some consultations with a number of the athletes later on that afternoon, but for now they were all in a morning-long meeting.

All except for one.

"Hey Coach," came the familiar voice, though it took me a half second to place it. But I looked up to see Tyler Mills, all 6 foot 3 of him. Tyler was must have been a senior now. I'd worked a lot with him in his sophomore year, after he got his knee banged up pretty bad and had to rehab after surgery.

"Tyler," I said. "How's it going, man? How's the knee?"

I saw a look of sadness sweep behind the bright affable smile. "OK, I guess," he said, shuffling some on his feet. He was wearing shorts and an oversized Stanford T, and even beneath the draping shirt, I could tell that trim, buff Tyler Mills had put on a few pounds. "A lot better, actually, but I'm not on the roster now. They still let me come get a work out in, you know, hang out with the guys."

My heart ached for the guy. They hadn't taken away his scholarship, but the injury had taken away his football dreams.

I gave a sympathetic nod but mostly flashed a buddy kind of smile. "You know, if you want me to take a look at your knee, I can."

I was surprised by the flash of thrill in his brown eyes. "For real?" Then catching himself, he added, "I don't want you to have to do anything you're not supposed to, Coach."

I wasn't one of the main coaching staff. Instead I'd been brought in to do a combination of strength coaching and physical therapy for all the big Stanford teams, but football especially. Half the jocks called me Mr. Carson, half just Coach C. Tyler was in the Coach camp.

"You can see how busy I am right now," I joked, gesturing around to the near empty weight room. "How's this? You can spot me for the next couple of sets, and then we'll go get set up in the back room."

He bounded over behind the rack like an excited puppy.

He wasn't the only thing excited. I had to will my cock to stay soft or at least normal sized as I lay back and could see up into that oversized shirt. Tyler Mills had a classic ex-jock beer belly. Probably a solid twenty pounds that hung in a perfectly round swell just over the hem of his shorts.

I channeled that flash of lust into a great set, even with the extra weight. And I forced myself to be normal as I made small talk with Tyler as I rested a second.

Most of the time I'm professional as can be. I'm an out and proud gay dude, even if I keep a low profile at work. Even though I'm around very in-shape young athletes, there's generally not my type. It took a number of years to fully admit it, and many more years to fully explore it, but I'm a chubby chaser. A couple of the D-line guys have the girth that might capture my attention, but generally I was safe, no matter how hands-on I might be in my job.

Tyler Mills wasn't a chub, but something about that belly made that sense of safety go out the window.

He spotted me for a max-weight rep, then encouraged me like I was one of his gym buddies. "Beast!" he grunted.

I rubbed out the soreness then stood up from the bench. If I didn't know better, I would have thought Tyler was looking at me in that way, but he made some comment about how in shape I was. "You're definitely giving me goals, Coach," he said.

I was in shape. I'd been a lacrosse player at Maryland and after doing some personal training after college, I'd gone for my PhD in kinesiology. I was now religious about working out and eating right. I was 39 and not going to enter my 40s without doing my damnedest to resist getting older.

I led Tyler back to the room that was set up with a table and some basic rehab equipment - bands, small weights, balancing balls and the like.

I had him get on the table and asked him to update me.

"I've been doing my exercises, Coach," he said. "Maybe not religiously, but you know..."

I nodded and sat down in a chair next to the table. I was thankful for the XXL T-shirt and the way it didn't show off Tyler's belly. Tyler's legs were still big and tautly muscled.

"You able to do leg day now?" I asked, my hands massaging the right quad muscle and working down to knee.

"Yeah," he said. "With some adaptation."

"How's this feel?" I asked. A year and a half ago, the wide receiver would be wincing in pain the moment I touched anywhere near his knee.

"Normal," he said. He was looking down at me seriously, and I could tell the memories of our earlier rehab sessions were coming back to him.

I worked closer to the joint and pressed in with my fingers.

"Oh!" he gasped. "That hurts."

I let go and massaged down his calf. Then back up to the hamstrings. His legs were hairier than last time I'd had a PT session with him. I loved how soft his light brown fur was.

"Your hamstrings are way tight," I observed.

I pulled back and patted his thigh. "All right, let's do some simple body weight squats."

I worked him through a number of diagnostic exercises. He did them well, but quickly we found where his range of motion was compromised and the spots that gave him a sore pain.

He looked at me expectantly. The ex-jock had a soft scruffy beard now, kept trimmed, and he looked about five years older than when I last worked with him. But he still was young and had that innocence to his face.

"I can give you some new exercises to work on," I said. "What do you think of a weekly PT session... to check in?"

That surprised Tyler. "God, Coach, that would be incredible."

"It'd have to be bright and early," I said. The Athletics Department had a full day for me, and I knew I couldn't prioritize a kid not on the roster. But I could take an earlier train. I was probably crazy to volunteer this, but I was thinking with my dick, I knew. Besides, Tyler was a nice guy. One of those jocks who could be a beast on the football field but a sweetie off.

"I got nothing else going on, Coach," he agreed affably.

I gave him a bro-ish fist bump and told him I should get back to my workout. I had only twenty minutes or so before the morning team huddles were over.

The whole ride home I was questioning myself. Certainly my professionalism was going out the window. But at least Tyler Mills wasn't on the roster. And I really was helping the guy out.

I got home and even though I was hungry for dinner, I set down my keys and went to my bedroom, where a comfy bed and some lube was ready for a quick stroke. I kicked off my shoes and pushed down my joggers. My prick was already ready, jerking up into a rigid spike as I pulled down the covers. A couple of squirts in my palm was just the right amount for a good JO. I lay back and visualized Tyler Mills' belly. That twenty pound belly sticking out above me. I imagined him lifting his shirt for me, showing off that magnificent round girth, that ex-jock gut.

I shot hard.

****

I spend my teen years in denial and my college years sure that I was majorly fucked up for my kink. I'd grown up in a small town, with a bunch of Southern bubbas and men who were just big guys. My high school football coach, the vice principal, the neighbor dad next door, my boss at my summer job. Men who were thick all over but especially their bellies. They were the stars of my masturbation fantasies. To this day, I have a fetish for big guts filling out a button-down and hanging over a pair of khakis, especially framed by a Sunday-best blue blazer.

I moved away, away from the Southern bubbas and even from blue blazer country. But I eventually made peace with the fact I was almost exclusively into overweight guys. I discovered chubby porn and the chub/chaser subculture. I had my first real job with the Packers organization, learning and apprenticing there before getting a promotion. There was a lot of Wisconsin beef around that was fun to look at, but I didn't get to play with big guys as much as I wanted. I'd take trips to the city, to Chicago especially, where I lined up new chubs to fuck each visit.

I was in demand, too, as a chaser. Most chasers tend to be either twink-thin, or else have mild bellies themselves. I actually tried to gain weight once, until I realized that I had better luck attracting chubs with a fit, muscular jock body.

I started doing videos and developed a following. It was my man whore period. I wasn't always nice to the chubs I fucked. I regret that, and I took some time to learn how to be better. It was a tricky song and dance. I was attracted to them for who they were, but the power differential was a real turn on for me, too.

I got the job at Stanford and moved to San Francisco. It was incredible. I dated casually and slept around a lot. I got to know some fellow chasers, who became friends and competition all at once. Even in a big city, the chub/chaser scene could feel incestuous.

I had one experience with a superchub, a genuinely obese guy. It freaked me out a little, actually, but it was also thrilling to try it. It felt taboo as fuck.

But lately my lust swung the other direction. I got tired of the "chub" look and began getting more into regular guys. I'll call 'em dadbod-plus. Men with big beer bellies who reminded me of some of the hometown bubbas. I had about three off-and-on fuckbuds, mostly married guys from the Bay Area who'd come in, plus an occasional businessman hookup.

Life was good.

****

Or at least I thought it was good until Tyler Mills.

Something about that college senior got under my skin. He wasn't even that big. On his muscular 6'3" body, he carried that bulk well. And compared to the men I normally slept with, Tyler was actually kind of normal.

It was the third PT session when I asked him what his goals were.

He blushed. "To lose weight," he said. "I guess I got kind of depressed last year and put on some pounds."

I gulped. That horny knot was forming in my chest but I tried not to be weird. "It happens," I said nonchalantly.

"Not to you," Tyler beamed. His eyes sweeping up and down my 6-foot-and-buff body. "You're an inspiration, Coach." Then as he did a one-legged dip, he asked, "You got a girlfriend or anything?... Sorry, that's really fucking nosey."

"It's all right," I assured him. "No boyfriend," I said pointedly. If Mills was going to ask about my personal life, he could deal with the answer. "Maybe I'm not the dating type."

I expected surprise, but the former footballer was doing his best to act cool. "Like I said... sorry for being nosey, Coach."

Still Tyler had a more relaxed posture and his eyes seemed to be seeking out something from me. Approval, an opening, or something.

"I sometimes think it would be easier to be straight," he said.

It was my turn to be surprised. I know I didn't hide it well. Tyler grinned as he noticed.

"How so?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Girls can be into the whole teddy bear thing," he said like he'd been giving a lot of thought to it. Maybe he had. "Gay dudes have pretty high expectations."

My hands were on his waist now as I assisted his body weight squat. I really wanted to actively feel up the love handles but kept my calm.

"Can I give some real talk, Tyler?" I offered softly.

"Sure thing, Coach." I could tell he was nervous about what I was going to say.

"There are a lot of men open to some extra girth..." I said, letting that idea sink in. "And even if not... a guy doesn't have to be a chaser to go for a good looking dude like you."

"Oh," he said. I'd said the wrong thing.

"You know what a chaser is?" I asked.

I could see Tyler blush. "Yeah," he said. He seemed almost sullen now. "You think I'm a fat guy, Coach?"

"Hardly," I said. Trying to keep my lust in check, since I knew I was dealing with a fine young man's real emotions. "God's truth. And there are plenty of guys who'd be into the ex-jock package."

I'd probably said the wrong thing there, too, since I knew Tyler felt bad he was no longer playing. But he perked up. "Yeah? I should get up to the city sometime." He paused before admitting, "Before I got injured... I met some guys online. It was fun."

"You're, what, 21? You should be having some fun, Tyler," I said. I didn't even mean it to be lecherous. But this young man deserved to have sex.

"Thanks, Coach, for the pep talk."

I patted his shoulder. Trying to make it a normal pat. "Any time. You know... I know you don't need me to show you around, but if you're ever up the city and want to hang out...."

I half regretted saying that, but you don't hit the shots you don't take. And my cock was definitely running the show.

"Yeah, Coach," Tyler said.

****

We'd wrapped up the PT session as normal. He had my cell number to text, but I was't going to push anything. I'd laid it out there, and Tyler could decide if he wanted to come into the city. He probably thought I was making a platonic offer, kind of a mentor big gay brother thing. I'd do that, too.

A week later I got a text to see if I was up for company on Saturday afternoon. I cleared my plans and moved my Saturday workout earlier.

Tyler looked like a million bucks when I met him for a late lunch. Gone was the oversized T shirt and he had on one of his older shirts that stretched snugly across the beer belly. Tyler Mills still wasn't in chub territory, but I had underestimated how much the guy had packed on his mid-section. Even if Tyler and I didn't fool around, I'd have a great JO with that visual.

Better was how the guy seemed to be more comfortable in his skin. We grabbed tacos in the Mission and hung out in the park. Even from behind his sun glasses Tyler seemed to be eyeing me up. I guess my own snug T-shirt and shorts were showing off my buff build to good effect.

"Can I ask a personal question, Coach?"

"You can call me Steve," I said. "And sure."

His smile grew serious. "Are you a chubby chaser?"

I thought of not telling him the truth, but I'd spent too long not embracing that part of me. I didn't like lying about my kink now. "Yeah, I am, Tyler."

He expected that answer but maybe not the direct confidence with which I answered him. He was letting it sink in. "I wouldn't have thought... a guy like you."

I shrugged. "I was about your age when I realized I could become the man I wanted to have sex with. Or be the man who'd get the guys I wanted to have sex with."

"Do all those chubby guys..." he lowered his voice. "Go for thinner dudes?"

"Not all," I assured him. "And some like more twinky types. But I do pretty well."

"I bet," Tyler said. Then catching himself, added, "Sorry Coach... Steve."

I laughed. "Am I freaking you out, buddy?"

"It's weird," he said. "Especially if you think of me that way." Leave it to this sweet jock to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

I gave him the most reassuring look I could. "You're not a chub," I said. "And it's not about labels... actually lately I've gotten more into regular guys with a little extra around the middle."

That seemed to put him at ease. He leaned back and nodded down to his stomach.

"Like mine?" he asked.

My dick was chubbing up. No stopping it. "You have no idea."

"I guess I had a little," he admitted. "After our last conversation. It got me going online," he chuckled. "I decided to wear something tighter fitting."

I tried not to sound like a creep. "I've very glad you did, Tyler."

That made him smile. "You know, this is the first time I've felt sexy in two years."

"You are sexy," I assured him. "Sexy as fuck."

"Coming from you, Steve, that's amazing." He spread his legs out some and seemed to be showing his gut off for me.

I wanted to kiss him, bad. But my greater head prevailed. "You know, in my position..." I started.

Tyler seemed almost scared of my rejection. "I wouldn't tell anyone, Coach. Promise."

This was going to happen. "Wanna come back to my place?"

He nodded like an excited kid. God, Mills was adorable as fuck.

We were both smiling goofy grins as we made out way to my condo.

"Nice place, Steve," he said as he looked around. "Hopefully I can move to the city after graduation."

"You should," I said. "You'd have a blast."

That made him smile. He stepped up to me, waiting for me to take the rest of the initiative. I did, pulling Tyler into me and claiming a soft kiss. Even if I wasn't the dating type, I was very much the kissing type.

This ex-baller was too. He responded with soft caresses of his tongue against mine, gently sucking me into his mouth before pushing back.

Meanwhile, my fingers were tracing beneath the hem of his shirt. I'd dreamed of touching Tyler Mills' gut for weeks now, and I was now doing it. His belly was firm and fat at the same time. I was rock hard and moaned into his mouth.

For his part Tyler was feeling me up, my arms, my chest, my back. He was just as turned on as I was.

I pulled him back, silently stepping us back toward the bedroom. We wouldn't make it all the way there that way, but Tyler got the idea. Breaking the kiss, he let me lead the way.

I think I gasped when he pulled that shirt off. The chest and arms and shoulders were football solid - Tyler hadn't neglected his weight training - but the belly was round and heaved as he undid his shorts and peeled them down.

My cock was hard and I enjoyed Tyler's gaze on my naked body as I got into bed first. He was actually showing off his belly to me as he got in on the other side.

Our mouths met and we both responded to each other's nakedness with an amped up fervor. I could now feel Tyler's thick dick below, humping into my hip. We made out hungrily, and felt each other up and lived out several weeks of pent-up lust. It was all coming out forcefully.

Particularly as Tyler rolled his big body on top of mine and began kissing along my neck, his hardon humping into me and his hands holding me down gently. I'd experienced this before with guys I hadn't met online. The wrestling for top bunk. Tyler Mills wanted to fuck me.

I was 90 percent top, but I wanted to give Tyler his wish. He needed the confidence boost, I decided, and his bulk felt pretty damn nice on top of me.

I felt his love handles getting more and more excited to take this ex-wide receiver's dick.

"Can you give me fifteen minutes, bud?" I asked. "I can get cleaned out for you."

I wasn't sure of Tyler Mill's experience, but he wasn't totally green. His eyes lit up. "Oh yeah." He rolled off me, letting me get off the bed and to the master bathroom.

I cleaned out and showered off and came out to see the college guy waiting expectantly, his prick not having gone down a bit. Tyler wasn't hung overly long but it was a decently thick tool that looked amazing riding up the swell of his beer belly. Mills might not have been a chub but I had a flash of excitement imagining him getting bigger.

"God Steve, you're amazing." He gave his prick a couple of tugs as I got into bed again.

"You too stud. Fuck."

I could see that confidence boost working on Tyler. Two years of injury and recovery and depression had taken a toll on the guy, but the fact I wanted him, really wanted him, had him brightening up visibly.

We kissed again, hungrily, and Tyler unleashed the inner beast. His kisses were more fevered against my neck and chest and even lower.

I lifted my legs back. Tyler wasn't skilled in rimming but he loved going hog wild. That worked for me. It had been too long since I'd had my ass eaten, and the fact it was this young big-bellied stud doing it had me wanting to put out.

I finally handed him some lube. His grin was big as he flipped the lid and began prepping me with his fingers. Eyes on my body and my face more than my hole.

"You do this much, Coach?" he asked with heavy lust.

I shook my head. "Usually I'm top," I said. "But I want you in me bud."

That made his prick jerk. He was so horny but also wanting to be respectful. He now worked in two and three fingers in me in alternation. My hole was feeling good.

"We, um, need protection or something?" he asked.

"I have some," I answered. I had one married fuckbud who insisted on condoms. "But I'm on PREP and get tested."

"Fuck," he hissed. He pulled back his fingers and slathered the excess lube onto this cock. Before I could react he was scooting up and stuffing it into my hole.

"Easy!" I urged. The entry was quick.

"Sorry," he said. He was clearly carried away. But now he held steady.

I looked up at him, his scruffy handsome face and his strong build and that round gut. And I opened right up for Mr. Mills.

"Fuck!" I hissed as his slick bone slid into me. "Yes..."

"God Coach," he grunted.

We weren't verbal. I don't know if Tyler was naturally the verbal type. But we didn't need sex talk. We were both in thrall with the other's bodies. Tyler's round 20-pounds of gut flesh swelling out between my spread legs, jiggling slightly as his whole body thrust into me. Maybe I should bottom more, I thought, because my insides felt alive at that moment. Not just my p-spot but all of it.

Tyler was cumming before I knew it, his face hardening into a determined top face as he drove in faster to get his nut. It was intense, but in a good way. I jerked my dick and rode the crest of my own orgasm.

We were hyperventilating as we uncoupled.

"Damn," he hissed. Resting his head on my shoulder and snuggling up to me. "Thanks for that."

I kissed his forehead. "Thank you, stud... I needed that more than I realized."

He smiled, and leaned forward for a kiss. I was happy to give him one.

We lay in bed and talked about men and sex and life. I didn't give him my whole life story, but Tyler got some hints about what being a chaser meant for me. He was still dealing with the closet and learning about sex beyond porn.

****

We had a mini affair, until Tyler got freaked out. I think some of it was wanting to play the field. But he still didn't like thinking of himself as fat and didn't like that's the part of him that I responded to.

I said something that triggered him, but it was probably bound to happen anyway. He stopped answering my texts, and if he came into the city, it wasn't to see me.

My fortieth birthday came and went. I wondered what I was doing with my life. Maybe it was time to become the dating type. But I had two fuckbuds on the regular now. A big extra-beefy coach from South Bay and a pot-bellied married guy from the suburbs. Occasionally I got DMs on my old twitter account, and I hooked up with a couple of chubs who came to town. I heard from a superchub who was a big fan of my old videos, but I wasn't sure I wanted that experience again.

I didn't expect a text out of the blue. But one spring day, Tyler texted me. "How you doing, Coach?"

It was the right text at the right time. I perked up at my desk. "Doing well. How about you Tyler?"

"Can't complain." Then "Sorry I went no contact."

"No expectations," I said. "For real."

"Cool." A minute passed then. "Can I see you sometime?"

"I'm out of town the next couple of weeks," I wrote. Spring Break was coming up, and I had a vacation tripped planned. "But I'm around after."

"Nice. I'll reach out."

****

We picked up right where we left off. Sort of. When Tyler showed up at my place, he was bigger. The twenty pound gut had become a thirty pound gut. He had some amazing genetics that concentrated the extra fat into his belly. He wore a polo shirt that showed off the round swell to good effect.

"Hey," he said with a nervous smile as I led him in. He was clean shaven now, and as adorable as ever. The baseball cap topped off the collegiate look, but I playfully took it off him and tossed it aside before leaning in.

Our kiss was soft. I grunted as I felt his hard-soft stomach press against my flat one.

I wasn't sure what to expect but as we made out and pawed at each other, I knew we were going to have sex. First thing.

"Bedroom?" I asked.

Tyler nodded excitedly. "Yeah. One of these days I'd love to do it elsewhere... try every room in your place."

I pawed at my crotch. "You look so hot, Tyler," I grunted.

He grinned and puffed out his chest some. Gone was the kid shy about his weight. At least for now. "I tried to lose weight Coach, but figured, fuck it."

My fingers were now tugging at that polo shirt. Tyler helped me take it off the rest of the way. His chest was meaty as ever and that just made his big gut hotter. I openly ran my hands over all of it, shoulders to stomach and back. Tyler relaxed and let me.

"I've never been fucked, Steve," he said.

My hands paused. "Yeah?" I asked expectantly.

Tyler was nervous as fuck. I got that. "I've been thinking about it. A lot."

My hands more gently massaged him. Not in a chub chaser kind of way, more in a reassuring caress kind of way. "I've broken guys in before," I said softly. "I know what I'm doing." God at that moment I knew I'd kill to get into Tyler Mills' ex-jock hole.

He gave me a playful grin. "I know... I, um, came across some of your vids, Coach," he said. "Actually a lot of them."

I blushed. I don't even know why. But it was a part of my life that was kind of behind me. "Hope you liked them."

He nodded. "I thought of being one of those guys you did." That impish look grew stronger. "Damn, some of those guys are BIG too," he laughed. "You really are into that."

I nodded. But patted his stomach which was still hard-fat but had more give these days. "You're more my speed for now, Mills," I grinned. I don't know why his last name came out, it just felt right.

Our lips were softer touching again. But Tyler's hands fumbled with my jeans and greedily reached in to grip my boner. He had a good touch. I suspect Tyler had fooled around with other men over the last year-plus. I was glad.

"You're big," he finally said as we broke. Tyler was looking down at the cock in his fist.

"Not too big, Tyler," I said.

He thought about it. "I jerked off so much to your vids. Just watching you..."

I patted his arm. All solid. "The real thing will be hotter," I said.

He crouched down in front of me. Tyler wasn't going to suck me to completion. I wasn't going to let him. But from our previous affair, I knew he could. Slowly he sucked down several inches and worked up a nice, slow bob. I enjoyed the foreplay and finally pulled him up.

Then returned the favor. I love sucking a fat guy, feeling the belly press against my forehead as I work my mouth closer to the base of the dick. Tyler now had enough to let me know I had some real girth on my hands.

I finally spit out his cock. "Turn around," I urged.

Tyler had a football player's ass. Round, hard but not a bubble but. Tyler was just now starting to get the fullness a fat dude has, particularly along the upper part of the glutes where they meet the love handles circling around the lower back.

It drove me wild. I parted those muscle buns and dove in. Licking up and down that lightly furry trench.

"Yes," Tyler hissed. He clearly loved having his ass eaten. He liked it even more when I really went at it, drilling in with my tongue. Tyler was clean as a whistle, and I knew he'd prepped for me.

He now leaned over which made those love handles squish some. I growled into that hole and ate him out more eagerly.

I finally pulled out. I slid my finger along the spit wet trench but not penetrating him. "I'll take it easy, stud. But I gotta get inside you."

He nodded. His nerves coming back. But he accepted my kiss when I stood up and let me guide him back to my room.

"I'm at 240 now," he boasted as he got into my bed.

Between the videos and that admission, I realized Tyler had absorbed at least some of the chub/chaser kink, at least enough to use it to turn me on.

"Incredible," I said. I grabbed some lube and fisted my cock, in full view of Tyler's hungry gaze. "I hope you're feeling good about your body."

"Yes and no," he answered truthfully. "But I'm really glad you like it."

"You have no idea, buddy," I said.

"I have some idea," he replied, glancing at my cock.

We kissed and embraced. I felt him up but no more than he gripped my toned bulked muscle. I applied more lube to my fingers worked them in between his buns. Probing and teasing until it felt right to enter him.

He hissed but I could tell he enjoyed it. Our faces were close and our bodies touched as he angled his beefed-out body so I could get access. I took advantage. One finger, then another. Slowly working him open. Eyes locked on his the whole time.

"Feel good?" I asked.

"Yes, Coach."

A third finger pushed in. It was a lot for Tyler, but after a minute I could tell that was feeling good too.

"Can I ride you?" he asked.

"It's actually tougher for the first time that way," I explained. "Let me take the cherry and then we can do whatever position you want. OK?"

He seemed to trust me. So I guided him on his back, that round stomach perfectly resting. I slid a pillow beneath his hips and rested his legs on my shoulder. He was nervous now, but I fingered him some more. Like five minutes more, before I lined up and pressed in.

He gritted his teeth and winced but the feeling didn't hurt like he expected. I took my time then finally pressed past the tightness of those first three inches.

Tyler's eyes opened. THIS felt good to him. I slowly pumped, my movements gentle even as my eyes fixed his with a controlling gaze. Silently urging the ex-jock to take my dick.

He relaxed into the fuck, a look of gratitude on his face. I was showing Tyler a new way to be a man.

I pumped out some lube on to his palm and when he stroked in rhythm to my stokes, the lightbulb really went off.

"I can feel it," he said. "My prostate."

I fucked harder now, and the guy nodded up with excitement, his hand going faster on his thick dick. His belly jiggled now which was going to get me off, soon.

"You like my body," he said. Or maybe asked.

"I love it. Love fucking that thick ex-jock body, Tyler."

"I thought you might prefer me bigger," he hissed, softly. Embarrassed at the admission.

I didn't care. He was getting me out of control. I pounded him, making all that excess flesh move and jiggle wildly. His face turned red then his whole body and I watched streams of cum jet out in thick ropes onto that beer belly.

I nutted. Matching Tyler's cumload size, deep inside his once-virgin ass.

Later, as we showered and made out, I told him that just was about the hottest sex I'd ever hard. I wasn't exaggerating.

He leaned into my hands as I worked the suds over his girthy flesh, trying not to fixated on his midsection.

"I know you're not the dating type, Coach, but can we go on a date some time?" he asked.

I gave him a kiss. Not quick, not slow. "It's the least you deserve, Mills," I replied. My cock chubbing up a little again.

#drakestories

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annwrites · 2 months ago

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⸻ trick or treat one-shot collection.

· pairing: jacaerys velaryon x twinsis!reader · type: modern!au | (collection) · summary: you & jace have fun in a pile of leaves & then take a nap together. · tags: implied twincest, sharing clothes, napping together · word count: 718

When Jace pulls into the driveway, you jump out of his car excitedly, toss your backpack onto the grass, then practically dive into a pile of leaves your dad must’ve raked earlier, but never got around to packing into an orange trash bag, with the face of a jack-o-lantern printed on the front of it, like he did the rest of the yard.

Jace chuckles, coming to stand over you, hands resting on his jean-clad hips while he gazes down at you.

“Are you five?” He asks with a raised brow.

You giggle, then reach up toward him.

He sighs, sliding one of his hands into yours, so as to pull you up, until you tug him down with you.

Bright red and orange leaves crunch beneath his weight and he sighs in exasperation before rolling onto his side.

“You’ve got leaves in your hair,” he remarks, pulling a few from your curly brown strands.

You shrug, then push him onto his back before straddling his lap.

“Now you do, too,” you say with a smile, running your fingers through his hair.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head while a smirk spreads across his lips—his hands sliding up your tight-clad thighs, beneath the plaid skirt you wear. “We always have to match, don’t we?”

You nod, humming in agreement, and he grins.

“C’mon, let’s go in,” he says, and you stand to let him up.

You and Jace pad across vacuumed carpet, toward the back of the house, where your rooms lie across the hall from one another.

“I’ll use the shower downstairs,” you say, turning into your bedroom.

He tosses his backpack into his room before stepping over to you.

He cups your cheek, and you watch as the corner of his lip twitches.

“What?” You ask with furrowed brows.

“Just thinking of ways to conserve water,” he replies, shrugging, heading into his room to grab a change of clothes.

When Jace comes back into his room, it’s to the sight of you standing in front of his open closet with only a towel on while you sift through his t-shirts.

He leans against the door-frame with crossed arms. “Your closet and dresser are both packed with clothes. Why do you always have to take mine to wear around the house?”

You glance to him over your shoulder and shrug. “We’re twins. What’s yours is mine, etcetera. We share everything.”

Predictable reply, he thinks before flopping down onto his bed.

“And yours are more comfortable,” you add.

He watches as you choose an old t-shirt, with the mascot for the school’s lacrosse team printed on the front and his number on the back, before dropping your towel and tugging it on over your head.

You toss said towel into Jace’s full hamper, frowning slightly at the sight.

“I’ll empty it eventually,” he says.

You turn back to him with crossed arms. “What you mean to say is that me or mom will.”

He smirks without reply before patting the right side of the bed.

You step over to it, then climb in next to him.

He fans out a throw blanket, drapes it over your bare legs, and you curl into his side.

You rest your head and left hand on his bare chest before twining one of your legs around his.

He tangles his fingers in your hair—massaging your scalp—and your eyes flutter closed.

It’s nearly two hours later when your mom and dad get home, and both of your younger brothers along with them.

Your mom knocks lightly on Jace’s door before quietly opening it, and she smiles softly at the sight of the two of you taking a nap together—the waning autumn sun casting long shadows across both of you through curtained windows while you dream.

She grips Jace’s shoulder and shakes him gently awake.

He gazes up at her with furrowed brows and a confused look in his sleepy eyes.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” she whispers before glancing to you. “Get your sister up, so the two of you can eat.”

She leans down, pressing a kiss to his forehead before sighing at the sight of his overflowing hamper in the corner.

She grabs it up, lightly shaking her head at her eldest child as she exits, heading for the laundry room.

#fic: hotd (jacaerys velaryon x reader)#jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon x reader #hotd x oc #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic

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dcangel · 9 months ago

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wearing stiles’ boxers after showering at his place, and deciding to spend the night, but you can’t wear your jeans to bed because they’re too uncomfortable. ending up in his beacon hill lacrosse t-shirt that’s just a little too big (it’s swallowing you whole) because he refused to make you stay in your tight long sleeve you’d been wearing that day even though you insisted you could make do. why not wear your own underwear that could easily be hidden under the hem of his shirt, or even take the sweatpants he offered to hide your legs from a seeking chill after opening the window to release the hot, thick air that gradually settled into his room from certain activities? because just knowing that he’s been in these (completely naked) and every unseen part of him has touched the plaid fabric was enough to cultivate an odd tingly sensation within you. also because you could’ve sworn he’s worn this pair before while you deprived him of your full, unclothed touch long enough that he couldn’t help the spurts that soaked a patch into the suffocating material. obviously, he’s washed them many times since, but it was that extra memory tied to the fabric that encouraged you to not conceal the lewd story under a pair of his sweatpants.

#uhh #🤗#(stiles would go insane)#wearing stiles’ clothes in general😵‍💫#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles’!world #dylan obrien #stiles stilinski teenwolf #stiles smut #stiles stilinski smut #unhinged thoughts #feral thoughts #stiles x you #stiles stilinski x reader #teen wolf stiles #stiles teen wolf #stiles teen wolf smut #stiles’s!world

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zweiginator · 4 months ago

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omg patrick with stanford cheerleader reader pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls i’m begging

like you're used to basketball and football players at stanford. they're cocky and hypermasculine and spoiled beyond belief. get whatever they want whenever they want. and the school is trying something new out: they want more fans at the smaller athletic events.

swimming, lacross, water polo--tennis.

so your coach tells you there's a tennis match you have to go to. just once a week during the season. which is fine, since it barely overlaps with your normal schedule.

you have assumptions about boys' tennis. you think they'll be scrawny and nerdy, nepotism kids who needed a way to weasle into a prestigious school like stanford.

you arrive to the match an hour early; you see the team practicing drills. they're confused as the stanford cheerleading bus pulls up.

picking your bag up, you make your way to the bottom of the stands. you bend over to tie your shoes, and hear a distinct groan from behind you.

but when you turn back to face the court, it wasn't what you thought. the groan came as a dark-haired tennis player smacked the ball, his shirt riding up to reveal toned abs, and pulsing veins in his wrist, exacerbated by the may heat.

he isn't scrawny, or nerdy, and he certainly isn't a bad athlete. you watch him intently, how he smacks the ball, his shoes squeaking as he moves up and down the court. he's strong and self-assured and a little cocky.

you see it as he notices you're watching him. raises his eyebrows at you as he squirts water into his mouth and stretches his shoulders with his racket.

he takes his shirt off too. tanned skin peppered with dark chest hair that goes down, down, down--extends underneath his little red stanford shorts.

patrick notices your get up too. your short, perfectly pressed skirt with those tiny shorts underneath. your cute, tight tank top with stanford stretched across your tits. you look so smooth. like you smell like vanilla frosting and warm linen. and better yet, you look tight.

when the match begins, it doesn't feel like patrick is playing against an opponent. it feels like he's performing for you. pushing his chest out and flexing his legs. looking over at you when he hits a good serve, wins a set, a match.

he likes how you pretend like you don't care that he stares at you. and he likes how you let your little skirt ride up for him. he dabs the sweat off his chest and forehead with a cloth.

your eyes follow a lone bead of sweat that drips down the valley of his chest, towards his belly button. and you notice he's hard. he adjusts himself before the next set.

and you eye fucking each other moves back and forth, a volley. a fun game of watching patrick's breath visibly hitch as you run your pom up your leg, as your skirt flips up when you jump.

when the matches are over, patrick finds you in the stands. he hikes his leg up on the bench next to you and leans forward. you look up at him with a feigned innocence that he sees right through. but your eyes are big and pretty, so he doesn't mind the little white lie. he'll catch you on it later.

and he does. he sits across from you and talks and talks and talks until everyone has left. bounces you on his cock under the bleachers away from the security cameras, your skirt flipped up, tank top pulled down. it's messy and hot and desperate and he has to use his t-shirt as a cum rag.

for the rest of the season, your little routine persists--until patrick's teammate catches patrick fucking your throat in the locker room.

#challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig smut #challengers smut

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hysteria-things · 10 months ago

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CAN YOU PLEASE MAKE LITERALLY ANYTHING FOR NATE🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 (preferably smut) BUT IM LITERALLY BEGGING PLEASE (no rush💗💗 love ur work)

SINFUL DESIRES (part one)

read part two here

read part three here

read part four here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it feels like every day there’s a blowout between you and nate. however, something changes when all of a sudden he’s knocking at your bedroom window.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, teasing, some praise/degradation, pet names (pretty), p in v, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy!), stomach bulge, possessiveness, cream pie, ROUGHHH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,172

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is low key toxic LMAO but it’s okay cause nate’s a cutie patootie.

thank you anon! hope you like it❤️

for some reason when i listened to this song it make me think of this fic, even though i would never picture him like this at all😭

tap tap tap.

“you cannot be fucking serious.” you curse softly, placing your phone on the bed as you get up and head over to the window.

it’s no secret that you hate nathan doe, and he hates you too.

your parents are close with his, but nate has always been a little shit.

ever since you two were kids, he’d pick on you. you’d understand that it was friendly banter since he’s, y’know; a boy. boys do that.

but it was never like that with him.

you unlock your window and open it, staring at the boy squatting on your roof. he’s in a t-shirt and gray sweats, his hair damp from showering.

“are you kidding right now, nate?”

“can i come in?” he asks, already making his way through your window.

you roll your eyes. “i mean, you already are.”

he stands in the middle of your room with his hands in his pockets, looking around. “what do you want?” you groan.

he snaps his head toward you. “what? can an old friend not visit?”

“you hate me.”

he raises his eyebrows and glances down your body. “i didn’t see you at the game today.”

“i’d rather die than go to a lacrosse match,” you say. you guys are standing across from each other, and it’s weirdly comforting. you two would be trying to fight right now, but even if you were you’d be too tired to.

“what do you want, nate?” you repeat, this time more harshly.

“why do you always have a fucking attitude?” he snaps.

there it is.

you scoff. “stop with this nice act. i shouldn’t have even let you in.”

“yet, you did!” he says with a high voice, taking his finger and pointing upward.

“fuck you.”

“you wish.”

you squint your eyes at the boy. you should’ve pushed him off of your roof when you had the chance.

“i’d watch that mouth if i were you, y/l/n.” he now points at you. “it can get you into big trouble.”

your next two words were meant to be in your head. “make m—”

in one stride, nate pulls you in by the throat and smashes his lips on yours. you would think you’d want to pull away but no. you kiss back with hunger.

he pushes you against your bedroom door, not breaking the kiss as he lifts the bottom of your band tee to push his fingers inside your underwear.

he pulls away to make eye contact with you as he starts to rub your embarrassingly wet clit with his fingers. he smirks when he realizes this is all from him.

you fight every fiber in your body to not give him the satisfaction of giving you pleasure. not even a lip bite or a buck of the hips, even though you want to.

so. fucking. bad.

he continues to rub at a decent pace. “why so quiet now? cats got your tongue, pretty?”

“don’t call me that, asshole.” you spit back. “i hate you.”

he chuckles under his breath. “seems like it.” he mocks.

the heaving of your chest gets faster when you feel the knot start to form in the pit of your stomach. you curl your hands into fists that are on your sides when you feel wetness drip down your inner thighs. nate scans your face until he figures out what just happened. “came already? my fingers weren’t even inside you. that’s a little pathetic, don’t you think?”

“shut. up,” you say through gritted teeth.

you look down at his sweats without thinking, seeing the imprint of his boner as clear as day. he leans to your ear and takes his hands out.

“feel how hard it is, pretty?” he jolts his hips into your clothed pussy. “it’s all because of you. i can never stop thinking about you, you know that? you’re engraved in my mind and i hate you for it. i always get off to what you’ll look like wrapped around my cock.”

your bottom lip quivers from his words. you don’t know what to say; the only thing you can think about is what you need. you need him.

he starts sucking a mark into your neck while untying his pants and pulling them past his thighs.

he lifts you, your legs dangling at his sides. he moves your panties to the side and starts to enter you slowly.

you pinch your lips together when you feel him all inside of you.

he groans at the feeling. “better than i’ve imagined.”

his thrusts start small but he gradually gets faster to the point where he pulls back and slams back in. you bite back your moan.

“so stubborn,” he whispers, taking your bottom lip out from your teeth with his thumb.

one thing to keep in mind is that your parents are sleeping just across the way, but you can’t seem to hold it in any longer.

don’t do it… don’t do it… don’tdoitdon’tdoitdon’tdoit.

“oh, god, nathan!” you cry out, immediately covering your mouth.

“there she is,” he says. he somehow makes himself go deeper.

“fuck, nate. fuck!” your noises are muffled by your hand.

you look over his shoulder at the window, realizing you never closed it. even though your room is on the second floor, people can still see and hear you.

nate turns his head to see where you are looking at and smirks. he takes your hand off of your mouth.

“don’t hide your sounds. i want everybody to know who makes you feel this good.”

you whimper and look down, seeing how he fills you from the bulge in your tummy with the movement of his thrusts. your mouth drops slightly at the sight. “see how well i fill you up, pretty? see how good you take my cock?”

you whimper again and grip his shoulders, dragging your nails down his upper back. “how long has it been since you’ve been fucked this good?”

“a l-long time.” you moan in pleasure as he hits that spot inside you. “right there, right there! please don’t stop.”

“whose is it, y/n?” he starts. “whose pussy is this?”

“y-yours, nate. it’s all yours.” you cry out. “i need to cum. please let me cum for you.”

you keep blabbing out nonsense as he fucks the living daylights out of you. “gonna cum inside this sweet cunt so you know it’s mine. you’re all mine, pretty. don’t ever forget it, yeah?”

“yes. yes!” you repeat. “i’m all yours. all yours, nathan.”

he kisses you as he spills every drop inside of you. you soon after gush around his dick, legs shaking and toes curling as you do so.

he sets you down and holds you by the waist so you don’t stumble over from all of the stimulation. he holds you in a tight hug and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

then, the light in the hallway flicks on and you hear footsteps.

“y/n!” your dad bellows. “what the fuck is going on in there?!”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby

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onlydylanobrien · 1 month ago

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Live from New York, It’s Dylan O’Brien!

The 33-year-old plays Dan Aykroyd in Jason Reitman’s Saturday Night, and he’s not sure he hit it out of the park. But he’s okay with that.

DYLAN O’BRIEN HAS led movies that grossed hundreds of millions of dollars at the box office. He’s shared the screen in a thriller with Michael Keaton (2017’s American Assassin), exchanged jokes with Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson (in 2013’s The Internship), been a long-running MTV teen heartthrob (in 92 episodes of Teen Wolf), voiced a Transformer (in 2018’s Bumblebee), and, hell, went toe to toe with Larry David while playing himself on Curb Your Enthusiasm. At 33, he’s accomplished a hell of a lot.

By the time we meet at Men’s Health’s New York City offices to chat on an early September Friday, I’ve already seen a lot of his work. I’ve always liked the way his relaxed demeanor on-screen fits with an undeniable movie-star look—and that holds true in his latest project, Saturday Night (in select theaters now and out nationwide on October 11), in which he stars as comedy legend and original Saturday Night Live cast member Dan Aykroyd; the movie is a depiction of the chaotic 90 minutes before the very first episode of SNL. But I wasn’t sold on his sheer determination—the pure conviction in his character—until I learned that, like myself, he’s a long-suffering fan of the New York Jets.

“I get psyched for the Jets,” he tells me, rocking a full beard, a T-shirt, and a pair of comfortable lacrosse shorts. As he finishes his thought, his eyes light up, but they maintain the slightest sense of eternal frustration behind them. “Even though it’s always like, Jesus Christ.”

Misfortunes of past football seasons aside, O’Brien is as hyped as he’s ever been for the season to come—he’s already done all of his fantasy drafts, though he feels better about some than others—but right now he has one potential problem: He’s going to be in Toronto, for the Toronto International Film Festival, on the night of the Jets season opener. But don’t worry, he’s got it figured out. Saturday Night’s premiere is on Tuesday, and his press schedule on Monday (when the Jets are set to play the San Francisco 49ers) concludes at 5:30 p.m.

“I’m like, I’m going to a pub. I’m getting out of the area, and I’m just going to sit and have some beer and watch the Jets on Monday night all by myself,” he says with a huge smile on his face. “It’s going to be awesome.”

It’s a relatable feeling—for most Jets fans, there’s no happier time than before the season starts, before the annual feelings of dread and doom start to set in. (The Jets would wind up losing to the 49ers, 32-19, in their Week 1 MNF matchup.) But, as Jets fans have learned so well to do over the years, we move on.

O’Brien has a long career behind him, but a long career ahead of him, too. In addition to his upcoming role in Saturday Night (which has earned strong reviews in the early goings), he’s also got the M. Night Shyamalan-produced Caddo Lake premiering on Max this month, and Anniversary, in which he stars alongside Diane Lane and Kyle Chandler, coming at some point in the near future. (It doesn’t currently have a release date.) O’Brien is the kind of actor who elevates the project he’s in, even when the project is already really, really good—but if there’s anything being a Jets fan says about someone, it’s that they know how to adjust, adapt, and bounce back. And in an industry as fickle as show business—which is put on full display in Saturday Night—that’s about as important a quality as any to have in your back pocket.

Ahead of the release of several of the biggest and most exciting projects of his career, O’Brien sat down with Men’s Health to discuss how he keeps himself sane and centered, prepping to play a comedy icon, and some of those casting rumors about him out there on the Internet.

MEN’S HEALTH: What kind of routines do you maintain for your mental and physical health?

DYLAN O’BRIEN: I don’t go to the gym. I’m not a gym guy, but that doesn’t mean I don’t exercise or train or anything. I would say I go in and out of that. I’m usually the type who’s either on a pretty consistent routine and trying to hit it hard and take care of myself for a period of time, and then I’ll let it go for a little bit. Some of that’s influenced by my schedule, too. When you go to work, it’s hard to keep up some kind of regimen. But when I’m home and I’m in between jobs, I’ve become a very domesticated individual. I love grocery shopping and cooking my own meals.

MH: What’s your favorite thing to make?

DOB: If I had to pick one thing, I love, to the soul, making a soup. It’s literally the first thing I’ll do when I go anywhere to settle in. Just a homemade chicken soup, with a chicken carcass, and get creative with the veggies.

MH: Do you have a mental health routine?

DOB: That’s typically what drives the eating and the exercising. I always feel best when I’m in a nice routine and taking care of myself. As I’ve gotten into my 30s, sleep is so important, and periods of laying off alcohol are so important. Just treating your body right and getting rest. I like to do a cold plunge session, and that’s very meditative for me. I’ll follow the simple program of “exhaust the body, relax the mind” when I’m going right.

“I was self-conscious that I DIDN’T LOOK LIKE HIM, that I DIDN’T SOUND LIKE HIM, that I thought people wouldn’t think me—Dan Aykroyd.”

MH: I totally understand the concept of using whatever levels us as therapy. Sometimes after work I just need to put the Yankees on and do absolutely nothing in order to fully detox and feel right.

DOB: That’s my soul. The Mets… obviously, baseball is a nearly every day thing. And even when the Mets are not going well, what’s soothed me since I was closely following them when I was a kid is [broadcasters Gary Cohen, Keith Hernandez, and Ron Darling]. Literally, even just throwing the game on in the background while I’m getting dinner ready and just listening to those guys talk baseball—that settles me to my core. I’m totally with you on that.

MH: Is watching sports your main way of decompressing at the end of a long day?

DOB: If it’s baseball season, yeah, nightly Mets is nice. If I’m working, I’ve been known to be on jobs and randomly be bingeing some reality show while I’m on it. It’s such a decompressor at the end of the day. I love reality TV.

MH: What’s your favorite?

DOB: Of all time?

MH: Yeah.

DOB: Well, it’s between Jersey Shore and Vanderpump Rules as far as the all-timers. I’ve been a longtime OG Vanderpump fan, pre-Scandoval, and I just think that show’s a masterpiece. And Jersey Shore is a masterpiece, too. I did a film, Ponyboi, that’s very Jersey-centric, and so I drilled all of the first four seasons of Jersey Shore. My whole routine for that movie, when I needed to decompress, was just working out and watching reality TV. I lost a lot of weight, too, for that movie, and I was just trying to make my little chicken breast, and eat my salad, and work out, and watch Jersey Shore.

MH: Let’s talk about Saturday Night. How would you describe your version of Dan Aykroyd?

DOB: It might be the thing most open to interpretation I’ve ever done. By that, I mean it really was just leaping out of the nest. I’m playing this real person, but [director Jason Reitman] had no intention of just copying the person coming in. He really wanted everyone to have their own spin on the person, which, if you’re overthinking it, can be tough to do because it can be very easy to do. If you’re like, I’m just going to watch my guy’s interviews and sketches, then you can kind of fall into imitation. As far as I know, I was just doing what I thought he was like. But I don’t fucking know. That instinct was that Jason was always telling me what to run with. He was big on not overpreparing, not overwatching things, and not impersonating. I’m curious to hear people’s take, because I don’t really know. I just went with my gut.

MH: Was there one signature quality of Dan you wanted to capture?

DOB: A very earnest intelligence—he’s so quick, it was exhausting. I would always say how exhausted I was, because I’m playing someone who’s way quicker than I am, and so I’m constantly operating at a speed I can’t operate at, because he’s so sharp and fast and he never fumbles and he never curses. He never bides time. You know what I mean?

MH: Absolutely.

DOB: He’s so precise with his improvisation and his comedic skills. I came away with such a larger appreciation than I even had for his genius. And he was so young—he was a kid. He was 23 on that first season of SNL. I never processed him as being too worried about too much, which was a funny contrasting energy to the very tense atmosphere of the film in the hour and a half before showtime. He’s so loose.

MH: It’s interesting you say that, because it’s something I totally clocked, too—Dan is kind of the calm part of a storm that includes people like Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith) and John Belushi (Matt Wood). How did you maintain that presence as the movie’s level head?

DOB: My way of achieving that, with permission from Jason, was to embrace this quality in myself that I didn’t originally associate to Dan—that I only then did after Jason pointed it out to me—which was to have an aloofness on set. I feel very relaxed in that space. In a way, I wasn’t too worried. But that comes with the caveat that I entered this process thinking I was so wrong for the part.

MH: Why did you think that?

DOB: I don’t know. I was self-conscious that I didn’t look like him, that I didn’t sound like him, that I thought people wouldn’t think me—Dan Aykroyd. And I guess it was an insecurity that I would be skewered for being miscast or something. But even with that insecurity, again, I’m still so happy to be there and, like, whatever, fuck it. I don’t care if that’s the response. I’m boned, but whatever. It’s great to be here and get to do this, and what a blast of a thing to get to be a part of. So, weirdly enough, that type of aloofness amidst other people having to handle some really tense stuff was what Jason was telling me to embrace.

MH: Have you met Dan?

DOB: No. Not yet. I’m supposed to meet him at TIFF. And apparently that will be both of our first times seeing the movie.

MH: That will be great.

DOB: There was a moment early on, when you go into something like this, you’re playing someone, you imagine that they might want to speak to you. They might be hell-bent on speaking to you, they might be crazy about getting their hands in it, or they might be totally hands off. And to hear that he was so not worried about it, if anything, was the first moment I was like, Oh, maybe we’re right. Because I would’ve met with him, too, but I also didn’t need it. I would have if he insisted. I’d be like, Of course—I’ve got to do that. But I vibe with the fact that he was like, no, let the kid go do it. That’s how I feel like I would react.

MH: What’s your favorite movie of his?

DOB: I was a big Blues Brothers kid. I did the Blues Brothers for my talent show in third grade. I was also a big Tommy Boy kid.

MH: I’ve loved a lot of the comedic stuff that you’ve gotten to do, including your Curb Your Enthusiasm guest appearance. What was working with Larry like?

DOB: Oh, it’s just a blast. He’s a Jets fan, too—I remember that was our first conversation we had. It was like I was just talking to a buddy, at [the popular TriBeCa bar] Walker’s, or something about the Jets. I’ve worked with a lot of comedians, and that space can be weird. The energy can be very overstimulating, and those personalities can tend to be really loud and competing. It can be a very odd atmosphere sometimes. Going to work with a guy like that… I was like, Who knows, he could be a fucking total narcissist tycoon, and he wasn’t. He couldn’t have been more generous, couldn’t have been quicker to laugh at someone else and let someone else have the spotlight. I couldn’t think more of the guy. He’s amazing.

MH: It’s been almost a decade since your accident on the Maze Runner set. When you look back at your recovery, how has that experience most impacted your life?

DOB: It was a life-changing incident. I’ve approached everything differently, you could say, particularly with regards to standing my ground on set. It’s very commonplace in the culture for young actors to be controlled, and the way they strive to do that is by always being like, Oh, don’t become difficult. Don’t be a pain in the ass. Or Are you complaining, are you being difficult? Things like that. I learned after the accident to not conflate taking care of yourself and looking after yourself. Don’t let them manipulate you into thinking that is being difficult, because I can look at that day and know I was a 24-year-old kid who was raising concerns about how we were approaching things, and they were not listened to, they were not respected. And then what happened happened. And by all accounts, it was all pretty gotten away with, I would say, as well. It’s taught me that, at the end of the day, in these spaces, you have your own back, and that’s the most you can rely on. I just turned 33. I’ve been doing this for 15 years. I know the person I am, and the character I bring to set, and the way I treat people and the way that I treat a workspace, and I know I’m not difficult. I know I’m not an asshole. I know I was trying to protect myself that day, and so I’ve just never forgotten that. That’s always rung true as being the thing to hold with me.

“It’s taught me that, at the end of the day, in these spaces, you HAVE YOUR OWN BACK, and that’s the MOST YOU CAN RELY ON.”

MH: And this is something that’s always in the back of your mind, just knowing that you’ve had this experience and it’s shaped where you are now.

DOB: It helps me. It’s a shame. It’s a shame that it had to be that for me. To build this armor for myself of just being like, No, man, I’m going to look after myself, I’m going to take care of myself, and there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with asking questions. There’s nothing wrong with bringing ideas, even if we’re talking creatively. It’s our job to bring ideas. There’s nothing wrong with raising concerns. There’s nothing wrong with being like, “I think we could do this better, I think we could do this differently.” You know what I mean? That’s the process. It’s a collaborative process. It’s a creative process, but also you’re dealing with big dangerous shit sometimes, too.

MH: Throughout the years, you’ve been rumored to become the Flash and Spider-Man. Is there any truth to the rumors?

DOB: No, never.

MH: Nothing?

DOB: No, none of it. Yeah.

MH: Is that of interest if an opportunity ever came up? Are you a comic book person?

DOB: I never have been. But I wouldn’t rule out anything. Certainly, it’s not of interest to me as of now. Maybe when I was 20 and they were rebooting Spider-Man—I was excited about that. But I didn’t even get past the casting pre-call or anything. No, none of those rumors have ever been true. I didn’t even know there were rumors. I just thought they were people just putting it out there.

MH: People put a bunch of stuff out there and then places pick it up and then stuff snowballs.

DOB: None of anything I’ve ever read about myself is true. So, if you want to use that template, that’s my experience.

MH: So what is of interest to you? What’s your dream?

DOB: There are obviously filmmakers I’ve loved since I was a kid who I would love to work with. I always want to challenge myself, and I always want to go with my gut and trust when I respond to something, I’m responding to it for a reason. Trust that when I’m scared of something, maybe that’s a good thing I should lean into. Try to find the new filmmakers, and try to champion them, and be a part of the early parts of the careers of our new wave of filmmakers. Try to champion original things as much as I can, too. I feel like that’s obviously trending so much further and further away, and towards extinction, that I just feel like it’s important to lend yourself to those things when you can, as much as you can.

This interview has been edited for content and clarity.

Source: menshealth.com

#dylan o'brien #saturday night press #ponyboi press #curb your enthusiasm press

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ellielatinagf · 8 months ago

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Lacrosse! Ellie part 3

Summary: You finally get to meet up with ellie on a date! Is it a date? Technically….

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sexual activity, FLUFFFFFF lmk if I missed any

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

“Girl no those colors DO NOT match” Dina huffed

“Then what can I wear??” You asked almost getting annoyed. Dina had been at you house since 8 am. It’s now 10 am. You’d both been trying to plan a cute outfit for your little “date” with Ellie. Unfortunately Dina is going overboard and dressing you like your going to the red carpet.

“I’m gonna go take a shower Din, can you just pick something cute and casual for me please?” You asked

“Ugh. Fine. I guess no dress then” Dina said grinning a bit. You rolled your eyes smiling and went into your bathroom.

You looked in the bathroom window to see a small amount of snow on the ground. Winter came a bit early this year. Not that you were complaining, you liked the winter. You removed your clothes and turned on the shower to warm water.

As you stepped in you thought of your meet up with Ellie. You’d be wrong to say you weren’t eager about it. You’d thought of both the meet up and Ellie all week. Maybe Ellie a little bit more. You thought of Ellie at your front door holding a bouquet of roses and giving you that goofy grin she has. You thought of Ellie holding your hand while you two sat in a large fancy restaurant. You though of Ellie’s lips on yours at your own made up wedding ceremony. And guilty enough, you thought of Ellie above you naked and prepared to give you all the love she had for you.

Your thoughts were soon cut off by Dina talking behind the door

“Hey are you almost done? I had a lot of fiber this morning!” Dina said. You quickly finished in the shower and put on what Dina had picked out.

You had some boyfriend jeans with a Nike hoodie and a puffer vest over it. It was cute and simple. You looked at your shoe rack. You’d remember Ellie’s shoes. Crusty, old, torn apart converse. As much as it was kind of disgusting, it was kind of cute and made you giggle. You put on your plain converse, maybe Ellie would notice.

dina unlocked the door and came out of the bathroom and smiled at you.

“You look gorgeous” Dina smiled “thanks to me” you giggled at her weird compliment.

“Call me after okay? And give me every detail too. And I mean I wanna know the exact time she blinked too” Dina said

“Okay okay okay I’ll tell give you how many freckles she has” you replied giggling

“More than 50 and I’ll be concerned” Dina joked back and you both went your separate ways.

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

*10:45 am*

You walked in the coffee shop that Ellie had given you the address for. It looked small and family owned. Those were typically the best coffee shops in your opinion.

As you walked in you scan the facility. Would Ellie be here already? Does she like to be fashionably late? Maybe she’d think you were too early.

Your thoughts all went away when you looked and saw a familiar figure sitting behind the counter on the window.

She looked so good. Ellie wore a black t shirt with a red flannel over it. She also wore some faded jeans with them. The jeans has some pain splash’s and…is that charcoal? She also, as assumed, wore those same converse.

You walked towards Ellie and smiled. You tapped her shoulder and she removed her headphones to look at you.

“Hey” You smiled.

“Hey You” ellie smiled back. She turned her body to look at you. You felt her eyes travel up and down your body. You didn’t feel uncomfortable by it, it was almost like she was taking you in. She seemed to have come back to reality and patted on the stool next to her.

“Sit. Um, I ordered you a coffee already if that’s okay?” Ellie asked. She seemed a little nervous. You couldn’t help the small blush forming in your cheeks.

“That’s perfect” You smiled. “So how’s your week?” You asked trying to make small talk.

“My week? Um. Just a lot of practice” ellie chuckled.

Hot

“How about you?” Ellie asked

“It wasn’t bad” You smiled. A waitress came over and brought out the coffee.

As you two sipped your coffee Ellie talked about lacrosse. You didn’t know much about it but with Ellie, she could talk about a single grain of rice and you’d be interested.

“Sorry, am I talking to much?” Ellie asked cringing at herself.

“What? Oh no. I like hearing you talk” You replied. You felt yourself blush once again.

“I just think maybe I talk too much and it like, scares people away” Ellie chuckled awkwardly.

“I like hearing you talk” you repeat. Your cheeks were starting to feel hot. You contemplated going outside and shoving your face in the snow just to cool down.

“Yeah but…I like your voice too” Ellie mumbled. She said it so low, but you could just make out what she said.

“Is that the only thing?” You asked softly.

“Hm?”

“Is that the only thing you like about me?” You asked. You have absolutely no idea where and why this boldness has hit you like a speeding truck.

“….no” ellie replied sipping her coffee. You both looked out the window. The empty road. The white snow covering everything. The way that even though it was the afternoon, the grey sky illuminated the whole view.

“What else do you like?” You asked.

“….I like your smile” Ellie replied once again so softly you could barely make out the words. Your blush grew deep. But not as deep as you saw Ellie’s grow.

“I like your hair” Ellie said.

Oh she’s doing this…

“I like your pretty face” she says looking down in the cup of her coffee. You smiled and looked at Ellie. She turned her head to look at you. Once she saw that you weren’t uncomfortable by her words she smiled back.

“You wanna hear a good song?” Ellie asked.

“Yeah sure” you smiled putting your coffee down.

Ellie got out her phone and plugged in the earbuds. She handed you one as she looked for a song. You blushed and took the earbud in your ear and looked at Ellie with a look that said “I love you”.

Ellie looked at you and smiled. That smile. That grin your always thinking of. Those eyes you can never remove from your memory. Those freckles you wish you could kiss. Is there anything really stopping you from kissing them?

Ellie pressed play on the phone and you both listend to the lyrics

I thought that I was dreamin’ when you said you love me

The start of nothing

Had no chance to prepare, couldn’t see you coming

And we started, from nothing

Ooooh I could hate you now, it’s alright to hate me now

You listened to the rest of the song with Ellie. After it was done she smiled at you

“You like it?” Ellie asked

“Like it? It’s Frank ocean. Who doesn’t like Frank ocean?” You chucked.

“That’s what I’m saying! My friend, Jesse, says he’s mid and it doesn’t even make sense! Frank ocean is a lyrical genius, with the voice of an Angel” Ellie said. You giggled and smiled at her. She returned your smile.

For what seemed like eternity you stared into each others eyes. Her green orbs could light up any room. Her pink cheeks only helped bring out her freckles that were decorated around her face.

“What time do you have to go…pretty girl?” Ellie asked. Your face felt like it was on fire. You looked outside to see it be somewhat dark. Figures, with the winter change. You look at your phone clock

*3:17 pm*

“Hmm..probably now. I promised Dina I’d go to her house” you replied. Dreadfully of course. You wished you could just take Ellie everywhere you go.

“Me too. I have a game today” Ellie replied.

“Oh, you should send me your schedule. I want to go to another game” you smiled. Ellie chirped up and looked at you.

“Really?” She asked “but I thought you said you didn’t know anything about lacrosse?”

“Yeah but I mean…I can learn” you replied.

“Is there….any other reason you’d want to go?” Ellie asks. She knows what she’s doing doesn’t she?

“We’ll maybe…there’s Someone I’m looking forward to seeing” you replied blushing once again. With the amount of blood rushing to your face in this “date” you probably don’t have anymore blood in the rest of your body.

“Maybe someone’s expecting to see you too” Ellie replied smirking. That smile. God that smile.

As you both started to leave you both said your goodbyes at the door.

“Text me when you get home, mkay?” Ellie’s asked.

“Text me when you win your game” you replied. Ellie smiled at you. You stayed there, smiling and staring. You felt yourself leaning in toward Ellie. Like something was pulling you in. Ellie felt it too. You stopped when your lips were inches from hers.

*Dinasaur calling*

What a cockblcok

“Um sorry” you said chuckling nervously scrambling to turn off your phone.

“Oh heh no yeah sorry about that um…text you later?” Ellie asked

“Mhm yeah…bye Ellie” you said

“Bye babe” ellie replied smiling and walking away

after a couple minutes of walking you revived a text from Ellie

*if you could see my thoughts you would see our faces*

Your heart almost stopped. You thought your body was gonna explode. You knew it was yet another Frank ocean lyric, but you couldn’t help but be delusional over the fact that maybe it means something more. Maybe she wants something more.

You picked up the phone to call Dina back

“I’m gonna kill you” you huffed at your professional cockblocker.

I actually LOVEEEEEE this part omg. I hope you guys love it just as much as I do and I sooo wanted more fluff and I know you guys probably do too!Thanks so much for reading and I hope I won’t disappoint with the next part! Bye loves!! Free Palestine 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

Tag list: @vqxen @bready101 @vampyangel @gato-chino @a-little-bit-of-everybody @lilylynne11 @lively-blues

Love you all!!! Free Palestine 🇵🇸 from the River to the sea🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

#ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie x reader #tlou #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou fanfiction

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flowsociety · 4 months ago

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Cool Lacrosse T Shirts: Stylish Gear for Every Player

Discover our collection of cool lacrosse t shirts designed for comfort and style, perfect for every passionate player.

#cool lacrosse t shirts

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teenwolfvore · 12 days ago

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Halloween Hijinx

(A day late, but not a dollar short lol. Meant to get this up on Halloween. I also did a few stylistic things. I would love feedback)

Summary: A hungry mummy Scott McCall eats Derek Hale.

Scott's phone was buzzing. And buzzing. And buzzing. All from the same person, Stiles. The texts read as the following.

Stiles: hey where are you

Stiles: Scott call me back

Stiles: Scott, have you seen Derek?

Stiles: seriously dude, come on, answer me.

Stiles: dude I could totally be dead right now.

Stiles: I died

Stiles: Scottttttttttttttt

All of those and the multiple calls went ignored. Scott was in the middle of something important. He was currently eating Derek Hale as a Halloween snack.

It all started about an hour ago. Scott asked Derek to help him out with his costume. Scott decided that he was going to be funny this year and go as a mummy. Complete with the toilet paper wrapped around his body. Derek, forever the grump, wasn't going as anything this year. But he was going to be a good friend to Scott and help him out.

Derek moaned at Scott getting undressed, but Scott was body positive. Derek rolled his eyes at the True Alpha’s mentality and began to help him out, starting with his legs and feet. There was just one small underlying problem that would eventually jump its way back to the present.

Scott hadn't eaten all day.

Between lacrosse practice and work immediately after, Scott was lucky he was even getting to go to this party that he was putting this costume on for. He didn't have time to eat at all. He just justified it by telling himself that he was going to eat when he got to the party. No big deal, he just needed to sit long enough to be wrapped in toilet paper.

Scott underestimated his hunger. His stomach was doing whale calls throughout this entire process. Derek making multiple comments on it as he bandaged up Scott's thighs and eventually his waist. Scott bit his lip and tried to ignore his hunger pains. “Just a little while longer.” He told himself.

It was when Scott's arms were being bandaged that Scott got desperate. Derek was adamant about not moving until it was done and Scott's werewolf hunger was getting the best of him. Scott did his best to just relax and not be so antsy, but he couldn't help it. Especially when he locked eyes onto Derek.

(Derek Hale)

It was no secret that Derek was a beefcake of the highest magnitude. Big arms, big chest, big everything. Practically packed with protein. Scott didn't even realize that he was drooling until Derek told him that it was falling onto his chest. Scott had begun to rationalize if he could actually eat Derek. It had to be, Scott had big meals before, Derek shouldn't be too hard. And after wrestling with the idea for long enough, Scott finally felt his hunger boil over.

The second that Derek took his hands off of Scott, the true Alpha pounced. Suddenly the older wolf was pushed to the floor. Derek tried to fight off the mummy Alpha werewolf, but it was no use. Derek was no match for Scott's strength and his hunger. Any attempt to reason with Scott went into one ear and out the other. Then before Derek could shout, his face was stuffed onto Scott's tongue. Scott is more than surprised by the taste, happily gulps more of that yummy stud down.

Scott's neck bulges as he swallows Derek's neck. Derek's big boulder shoulders are no issue. Scott rips the t-shirt that he was wearing to ribbons. He didn't want anything obstructing Derek's meat. He squeezes the shoulders together into his mouth and swallows. Scott had pinned Derek's beefy arms to his side. Scott's mouth was almost stretched to its limits. The drool coming out of his mouth was overflowing.

Scott horked down more of that beefy stud desperately. He needed to have this meal in his belly yesterday. Derek's beefy chest and nipples are quickly tasted before Scott tips his head back to get them down his throat. Scott then slides those abs across his tongue and counts those hairy bumps of muscle. He was grateful that Derek was such Adonis and could provide him with a hearty meal.

Scott uses his claws to take off Derek's jeans to get access to gorgeous rump and his cock. Scott collects Derek's cock into his mouth and begins to play with it. With most of him down, there wasn't much that Derek could do to stop him. Derek's frantic motions had turned to lustful wiggles. Derek briefly forgot that Scott was eating him and was more focused on getting himself off. Scott felt his own sizable cock getting hard and pushing through the toilet paper. He began to jerk himself while jerking off Derek. The larger wolf moaned at the bottom of Scott's throat until eventually he couldn't take it anymore. He blew his load all over and in Scott's mouth. The alpha drinks it all down and sends it to splatter over Derek's top half. A little bit dribbles out of Scott's mouth and falls down onto his own cock. Amused by getting his prey off, Scott continues his meal.

Derek was too exhausted now to resist meaningfully. His legs were limp as Scott slurped them up like noodles. Scott had begun to lose layer after layer of the toilet paper because of his stomach bulging. The more that Scott filled up with Derek, the less toilet paper he had. Scott lost his abs and soon gained a Derek sized bulge. Before too long, the only thing that was left was Derek's large feet. With a couple of slothful bites, they soon are completely swallowed up behind Scott's jaws. Then with a single gulp, Scott sends the rest of Derek's legs to join his gut.

Most of Scott's tan belly was revealed now with just a few sashes of the toilet paper left. Underneath was the engorged belly and Derek Hale bulging from within. Scott sighs contently as he rubs over Derek's form. His hunger had finally been sated and with such a big meal too. Scott licks his lips to remind himself of Derek's flavor. With that heavy weight in his belly, Scott lays out on the floor with his arms and legs spread.

Scott looks over to see the texts that Stiles had been sending him. Scott chuckles as he just clicks it off for now and steadily rubs over the other werewolf trapped inside of his belly covered in his own cum. Scott's own cock still hard regains his attention. He quickly grabs a hold of the lengthy member with both hands and begins to jack off again on his overstuffed belly. It doesn't take long for Derek to get active once again inside of Scott's belly. Apparently he wasn't too happy with being a device to get Scott off. Scott chuckles as he uses one hand to taunt Derek by patting his head. Scott grunts and moans as he gets close, eventually he releases his own load all over his hand, belly, and the toilet paper. Just as he does so, Scott unleashes a huge burp that shakes his room.

The alpha werewolf smiles contently as he looks at cum covered belly. Derek was still moving slightly but he was exhausted at this point. Scott grabs his neglected phone and finally responds to Stiles.

Scott: Hey Stiles, Derek and I are going to be a little late. I had to go for a snack. What do you think? ;)

Scott snaps a picture of his belly and sends it as an attachment. The younger wolf looks down at his belly again and smiles. He continues to give his gut pats and rubs reminding the big beefcake werewolf of what he was.

Food for a true Alpha Werewolf.

#male pred #male prey #male vore #fandom vore #teen wolf vore #oral vore #same size vore #gay vore #ScottMcCallpred #DerekHalePrey

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fadedin2u · 11 months ago

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pick up and roll the dice - ch. 2

read in between the lines, i know you love me…

summary: ellie takes you to a college party, you do her make up. based on the song hold on by the internet

content: college!au, childhood best friends!au, dealer!ellie, fem!reader, modern!au, ellie is a simp (not surprising), ur also a simp, art major!ellie, kinda slow burn??

word count: 2.8k

warnings: mention of reader vomiting, drug usage (alcohol, weed), lots of cursing (what do you expect), men (mentioned), expect nsfw chapters in the future so MDNI 18+

read chapter 1 here

“Hey, just FYI, a guy is gonna come over in about 15 to pick up,” Ellie warns you as she puts on some sweatpants on top of the boxers she was lounging in.

Ellie started dealing in high school, and it started purely by accident. She was always the one with bud, and originally only sold to close friends because they didn’t know where to get weed, but as college got more hectic (and tuition went up), Ellie started selling to people on campus. She sold actual bud mainly, but sometimes she’d sell shrooms if she ended up in possession of them.

You sit on your own twin bed, and look up from your phone, nodding. It wasn’t completely unusual for Ellie to have people pick up at the dorms, but more often she tried to avoid it in fear of getting caught by the R.A. and potentially getting expelled.

“Sounds good,” You say, going back to your phone.

Ellie stares at you for a moment, deliberating, “Hey, uh, there’s a party happening tonight that I’m probably gonna end up going to sell at, would you wanna come?”

Your face scrunches up, cautious, “Who’s throwing it?”

Ellie thinks for a minute, “I think it’s the lacrosse team, but don’t quote me on that.”

You groan, “Ughh… The lacrosse team? Seriously?”

Ellie sits on your bed, her hands clasped together, “Come onnnn, it won’t be fun without you there. Besides, we’ll go for an hour, get wasted and high, and come back here to play Mario Kart! It’ll be fun!”

You glare at Ellie, “You wouldn’t wanna go to this party either if it wasn’t for the business opportunity. The lacrosse guys are dicks.”

Ellie gives you a half-smile, “I know, that’s why I overcharge them.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, and you contemplate your options. You could either go out with Ellie and stay entertained, even if it is around insufferable people, or you could stay at home and play a video game for 7 hours straight.

“Okay, fine. But you owe me,” you say, folding your arms over your chest.

Ellie gives you a cheeky smile, “The pleasure of my company isn’t enough for you?”

You stare blankly back at her.

Ellie laughs, “Fine, Jesus, name your price.”

You think for a moment, not knowing what Ellie could give you besides weed.

Suddenly your face lights up, “You have to let me do your make up for tonight.”

Ellie’s nose scrunches up, “Dude, come on. I’m not a make up girl.”

You roll your eyes again, “I’m not gonna do it like mine, I’ll make it more androgynous, I promise. It’ll look so good.”

Ellie thinks about you thinking that she looks “so good”, and she sighs, “Fine. But none of that mascara shit. It feels weird on my eyes and I don’t like the way it looks.”

You laugh, “You have my word, no mascara.” You look over at the clock, seeing that it’s already about 8:30pm.

“We should probably get ready soon then, right?” You ask, and there’s a knock at the door.

Ellie nods as she walks towards the door, “Yeah, just let me finish this up.”

As Ellie takes care of business, you go over to your closet, thinking hard about what you can wear that looks good, but at the same time, doesn’t look like you put in that much effort to a college party.

You eventually pink a pair of your favorite pair of jeans, a tight, black cropped t-shirt, and some sneakers. You wait to start changing until Ellie’s customer leaves.

Ellie shuts the door, folding the wad of cash and slipping it into her wallet.

You start changing out of your shorts and hoodie into your outfit, and Ellie very pointedly does not look anywhere near you as you change. When you’re in your outfit, you look over it in the mirror.

“What are you gonna wear, Els?” You ask, fixing your hair.

Ellie stares at you in your outfit before looking down at her wife-beater and sweatpants combo. “Uh… This?”

You give Ellie a look, “Dude. This-“ you point to a stain near her neckline, “is from yesterday.”

Ellie scoffs, “Fuck you, I’m saving the environment by not washing my clothes every time I wear them.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, is that what you’re doing?”

You go over to Ellie’s closet. You pick a black graphic tee, your favorite of her short-sleeve button ups to wear over it, and a pair of her slouchy denim jeans.

“Voila.” You say, shoving the clothes into her chest as you walk over to your shared bathroom to do your own make up. She flushes, but nonetheless changes into the outfit you picked, the idea of you picking what you think looks best on her making her stomach fluttery and warm.

When Ellie is finished changing, she walks into the bathroom, watching you in the mirror as you do your make up. You apply a light layer of lipstick as she does, and you’re hyperaware of her gaze on your face.

You finish up, your make up accentuating your features perfectly. You blot your lips with some toilet paper, and nod.

“Okay, let’s do this-“ You say, hoping up onto the bathroom counter and rifling through your make up bag until you find a brown, pencil liner.

“C’mere,” You say, motioning for Ellie to come closer.

Ellie’s hands are sweating as she walks up to you, standing in between your legs. She’s not sure where to put her hands so she leaves them dangling at her sides.

You lean forward and put your hand on Ellie’s cheek to steady her face. “Your eyes might water, just so you’re prepared.”

Ellie scoffs, “Please. A little eyeliner isn’t gonna kill me.”

You start lining her waterline, and her eye immediately tears up, “Fuck.”

You giggle, continuing to outline her green eyes. When you’re done, you put the pencil away.

“Okay, now the trick for this is to close your eyes and rub them a bit. Can you do that for me?” You ask as you rummage through your bag again to pull out some eyebrow gel.

Ellie chuckles a little, following your instructions, “I thought the point was to not touch your eyes when you have eyeliner on so you don’t fuck it up.”

You nod, “Yeah, usually, but I’m doing more of a diffused, messy look on you. It’ll look best with your whole… Vibe, I guess, if your make up is less structured and more messy.”

Ellie stops rubbing her eyes, and the green in her eyes pops brilliantly against the brown liner. You smile, pleased with yourself.

“Okay, that was the worst of it,” You say, brushing through Ellie’s eyebrows with the gel.

Ellie nods, focused on your face as you do her make up, and it makes you feel excessively vulnerable, but you don’t call attention to it, assuming it’s you who’s being weird for thinking into it.

You take a blush stick and apply a little to her freckled cheeks, and lightly dab the rest on her lips with your finger.

Finally, you apply a top layer of chapstick to her lips.

“Okay, finished,” You say, admiring your work.

Ellie nods, still in-between your legs, looking at you. “Thanks.”

You giggle, and it sounds more nervous than you intended. “Wanna check yourself out in the mirror?”

Ellie is knocked out of her stupor, and moves out from between your legs to look in the mirror. The liner makes her eyes pop, and the rest of the make up is simple and light, accentuating her features while adding a little something extra.

Ellie’s face spreads into a grin, “Dude, this is so much better than I expected.”

You kick her before jumping off the counter.

She yelps, “Hey! I didn’t mean that in a bad way, I just never really saw how I could wear make up in a way that makes me feel comfortable, and this looks great.”

You fix yourself in the mirror one last time, “Damn right it looks great. I did it.”

Ellie laughs, her smile bright. She gives you a once over, “You ready to go?”

—-

The house that’s hosting the party is only a few blocks away from your dorm building, so you and Ellie walk there together as you share a blunt.

By the time you two arrive at the party, you’re both fairly stoned. Ellie opens the door for you, and you two barely get three steps inside before you hear a “Ellie! Y/n!”

You both turn to see a clearly inebriated Jesse rushing towards you, a goofy smile on his face.

He gives you both a bear hug at the same time, and you laugh as Ellie says, “I’m guessing you already found the booze, Jess?”

Jesse laughs boisterously, shrugging, “Hey, you guys need to catch up, get on my level.”

Ellie looks over at you, eyebrow raised, “Wanna take a shot?”

You make a face, “Not really, but I’m gonna take one anyways.”

Ellie laughs at that, and the three of you migrate to the kitchen. Ellie takes a bottle of whiskey out of her backpack that’s carrying everything she has to sell tonight. She pours three shots with some miscellaneous, most likely used, shot glasses on the counter. As she does, you ask Jesse, “Is Dina gonna be here tonight?”

Jesse makes a face, and you think ‘Shit, sore subject right now, huh?’

Jesse says, “Dina and I had a fight last night, so… I don’t know if she’s gonna be here.”

Ellie makes a low whistle, but she knows her friends, and this on and off again thing between Jesse and Dina has been going on since you all were in high school together. They’ll likely be right as rain by the end of the week.

You take a shot from Ellie and pass the other to Jesse, “Then we’ll have a blast with the three of us, right?”

Jesse grins, “Fuck yeah, we will.”

——-

Famous last words.

About 2 hours later, you were sitting alone on a musty couch, your head dizzy from the several drinks you’ve already had. You nurse another one as you watch Ellie dealing to some brunette girl. Jesse left you to hang out with some guy friends, so you’re left to watch this girl flirt with Ellie, clearly putting the moves on her. Your stomach twists a little as you see Ellie laugh at something she said, her eyes crinkling.

When the girl rests her arm on Ellie’s bicep and Ellie doesn’t resist it, you stand up, going to get some fresh air.

You weave through the packed house, stumbling slightly as you turn a corner. ‘Fuck. I must be more drunk than I thought.’

You go outside, walking out onto the front porch. There are a few people smoking outside, and you try to move past them, but a man puts his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, y/n, right?” He asks, tilting his head. It’s dark out, but you finally recognize his face from a generals math class you took freshman year.

“Hey, Matt, how’ve you been?” You ask, cursing yourself for playing into it. You barely knew the guy, and you were really not in the mood to entertain someone’s conversation.

Matt grins, and he leans in closer to you, pulling you over to the porch railing by him, “I’ve been better without Professor Bynum on my ass about stats. How’ve you been?”

Your nose scrunches up instinctually at him pulling you over.

“I’ve been alright, pretty busy, I actually just came out here to get some air and, well- I guess I got it, so I should probably get back inside.” You say awkwardly, back away.

Matt says, “Wait! Before you leave… You should know that I had a *huge* crush on you during that class.”

‘Great. Jesus Christ,’ you think.

“That’s- Um, that’s sweet.” You say, and you couldn’t sound less enthusiastic if you tried.

Matt’s inebriated brain doesn’t seem to care about that though, “Do you think I could take you out sometime?”

You wince, “Oh, Matt, I’m sorry, I-“

You feel a hand on your shoulder and you jump, turning back just to see Ellie. She looks a little hurt, “I thought you were gonna wait on the couch for me?”

You give Ellie an apologetic, tense smile, starting to feel a little nauseated, “Sorry, I just needed to get some air.”

You turn back to Matt, and maybe if you were less drunk, you would’ve had more tact, but all that comes out of your mouth is, “And I’m sorry, Matt, but no.”

Matt’s eyebrows furrow, “Damn, okay. Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

You pause, wondering if you should lie to get out of the awkward situation, but before you do, Ellie says, “Why, does she need a boyfriend to not want to go out with you?”

‘Jesus, Ellie.’ You think, your stomach churning more and more.

Matt’s jaw drops, “Jesus Christ, what the fuck is your problem?”

Ellie’s eyes narrow, “Nothing, I’m just explaining how to take rejection, dipshit.”

Matt looks like he’s about to say something to retaliate, but before he does, you turn away from them and vomit over the porch railing into the shrubs.

Whatever was about to be said gets lost, and you feel one hand bracing your back as another gathers the hair out of your face, and you hear Ellie’s voice by your ear, “Shit, you alright?”

You try to nod but you end up heaving more, emptying the contents of your stomach. Ellie’s hand smoothes over your back in a way that she hopes is comforting as she holds your hair away from your face.

“Hey, it’s alright, you’re okay. I’m gonna take you home, alright?” Ellie asks as you stand back upright, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Okay,” you say, too nauseous to resist and too done with this party to want to.

Ellie seems considerably more sober than you as she wraps one arm around your waist, walking you back to the dorms. You’re about to tell Ellie that you’re fine to walk on your own, that you’re not that drunk, but you can’t help but want to take advantage of the situation, leaning into Ellie.

“I’m sorry for making you leave early,” you say, and she squeezes your waist.

“You’re just fine, babe, don’t worry. I wanted to leave that boring ass party anyways.” Ellie responds, shrugging.

The two of you keep walking. “What about that girl you were talking to? She was really pretty:”

Ellie brows furrow, “The brunette? She was nice, I guess.”

You shake your head as you laugh, “Ellie, you are so dense, she was totally into you.”

Ellie shrugs again, “I know.”

Your brows furrow this time, “And… You weren’t interested?”

Ellie shrugs, “She was alright, just… Yeah. Wasn’t interested.”

Ellie leads you up to your dorm room, and when you step inside, you immediately face plant onto your bed.

“Home sweet home,” you say into the duvet, your voice muffled.

Ellie chuckles at that, grabbing a glass of water that was by your bedside and bringing it to you. “Okay, doll. Can you drink this?”

You sit up on the bed, and sip the water as Ellie goes to fetch ibuprofen, a bucket (just in case you still feel sick later), and a warm washcloth because she knows you like to clean your face at the very least before bed.

She sets everything up for you as you wipe off your face, watching her with a lovesick ache in your stomach.

When you’re finished, she takes the washcloth and chucks it into the dirty laundry hamper. She also passes you one of her (clean) cheesy, graphic tees.

“For you to sleep in.” She says casually.

You laugh, “My closet is right there, Els.”

Ellie’s cheeks go a little pink and she tries to take the shirt back, “Well, if you don’t want it-“

You snatch it back from her, “I want it.”

She laughs and puts her hands up in surrender before going to use the bathroom to clean up herself.

You strip off your dirty clothes except for your underwear and slip on Ellie’s t-shirt. You check to make sure the bathroom door is still closed before lifting the fabric up to your nose and sniffing it, smelling the familiar scent of Ellie’s laundry detergent.

You feel that same lovesick ache pang at your stomach again, and you crawl back into bed, your drunk brain too inebriated to handle that kind of intense emotion. You nestle under your covers, and thanks to the weed and alcohol in your bloodstream, you quickly pass out.

When Ellie comes out of the bathroom and finds you asleep in her clothes, she quickly goes to pull out her journal, sitting on her own twin bed across from yours and doing a quick, messy sketch of your sleeping face.

‘This is fucking weird behavior, Ellie, what the fuck?’ She thinks to herself as she finishes up and gets up to put her journal away.

On her way back to the bed, she pauses, looking at you for a moment before kissing your cheek softly.

“Goodnight.” She whispers, before crawling into her own bed, where she would lie awake for several more hours.

———

chapter 3 here!

texts w reader and ellie here

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #tlou2 #ellie williams fanfic #tlou #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #rose writes #pick up and roll the dice

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