#lmfaoooo i'm salty

[beatleswings]

Don Flamenco and King Magnifico (Wish) have the same Spain Spanish VA so...I had to draw this.

[theloveinc]

IT IS a problem, though, when anyone else in the band has their little solo moment and you put on your little performance of sauntering over to their side of the stage to sing in perfect sync with them, getting as close as your instruments will physically allow so you can even sway to the chords of the song together...

And even though your relationship with Bakugo isn't exactly a secret, magazines start publishing articles about how much chemistry you have with [Kirishima, Denki, even Jirou+] garnered simply from how sweet you looked pressed up next to one another dancing (evidence of which is usually the cover photo).

Then Bakugo starts fussing about what you do on stage.

Really the most important thing abt drummer!Bakugo is that he’s always placed at the back of the stage (which means he can stare at you singing without anyone noticing)

[luvxiem]

luca and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day (until it wasn't)

##INFO

luca kaneshiro x gn!reader, fluff, attempt at humor 💔 mild angst (??) suggestive themes at the end, established relationship except nobody thinks it's real LMFAOOOO, college au, they go to school in the us for this just pretend they r all cool foreign students minus shu (he's still cool even if he is american)

word count: 3.1k

##SUMMARY

vox, mysta, shu, and ike haven't met luca's partner because they live in canada, duh! what? of course they're real?? he's not lying this time, he swears! they really are real!!!!

“i’m fucking tired, dude.”

a dark backpack drops roughly to the ground as its owner soon follows suit, the lanky compsci major sitting with a sigh as he shoves his phone into his brother’s face. shu hurriedly swallows his rice and almost chokes in the process while leaning away from the sudden bright screen in front of him. after pounding his chest with his fist a couple times to dislodge a few grains, he realizes that mysta’s phone was open to an instagram post of a couple.

ike leans over to look at the post as well with a raised eyebrow.

“it’s just fulgur and uki?” he questions, staring at his friend. mysta raises his head from where he laid spread-eagle on the grass to glare at him.

“just fulgur and uki,” mysta mocks, dropping his head back onto the ground and reaching up to cover his face with one arm. “everywhere i look is just couples! everywhere! i can’t escape them, man,” he bemoans. ike rolls his eyes and returns to his lunch, used to his friend’s antics. shu glances between the two of them in between bites of his own food, gently nudging a bento toward his distressed brother. mysta grunts in thanks before pushing himself up to sit cross-legged, eagerly lifting the lid of the bento and digging into his food.

"don't cry just because you can't any bitches," a smug voice calls. the trio looks up to see the arrival of vox, the drama major carrying his blazer hooked over his shoulder.

there's a prominent hickey on his neck. mysta's eye twitches.

"shut the fuck up," he grumbles as vox ruffles his hair endearingly before sitting down beside him.

"being single is ok too, ya know," vox sympathizes, knowing that his friend was feeling left out of the recent romantic festivities. "you don't need to be in a relationship to be happy."

shu nods at his words, ever the agreeable one of their friend group. ike pauses mid bite before resuming his meal, not giving any reaction to what vox said. he wasn't about to admit that he's been salty at seeing all the other couples as well. vox notices mysta is still feeling a bit bummed, however, since the shorter man hasn't spoken much since he arrived.

"hey," vox grins, nudging him with his fist. "what if i set you up with an acquaintance of mine?" he offers. mysta glances up at him with mild interest, but before he could respond, the final member of their group comes barreling down the sidewalk with a wide smile, clutching his beanie with one hand and waving enthusiastically with the other.

"hey guys!" luca beams, patting vox's shoulder before plopping down, closing their little circle on the grass. "what were you talking about?" the blonde takes out a sandwich from his bag and looks at the others expectantly. vox smirks as the other three inwardly sigh.

"since i'm the only one who had a valentines this year and being the generous friend that i am, i've decided to set up mysta with a friend of mine," he explains rather proudly. now, vox was expecting a few responses from luca—perhaps an understanding nod, a wail of jealousy, even an aversion to the topic in general—but instead of any of that, the blonde tilts his head in confusion and opens his mouth to speak.

"i had a valentines too, though?"

shu actually chokes on his food this time, ike hurriedly offering him his water bottle and pounding his back to dislodge the shit stuck in his throat. vox was staring at luca in disbelief, mouth opening and closing not unlike that of a fish. mysta, however, throws his head back and starts laughing loudly.

"yeah, right," he cackles, shaking his head before looking back up at his friend. "you're even worse than me when it comes to dating!" luca frowns at him this time.

"i'm being serious! that's why i was busy yesterday, we’ve been together for a few months now-“

"then why haven't you ever talked about them?" mysta accuses. luca shrugs helplessly.

"well, you—you never asked!" vox glances between the two of them before settling on the blonde.

"do you have any pictures of them?" he asks, wanting to give luca the benefit of the doubt even if he didn't actually believe him.

"ok so, y'know how i like, i broke my phone last week? while riding my uh, my bike?" the four nod. "well, i didn't back up my phone and i lost all my photos." mysta's eye twitches once again.

"do they even go to UCI?" shu wonders aloud now that he wasn't at risk of asphyxiation. ike nods in agreement, genuinely curious as well. it’s not that he didn't—no. that's a lie. he didn't believe his friend as much as he wanted to. listen, this was the guy who was locked in a closet with a girl he liked for over ten minutes and didn't even do anything! forgive him for having his doubts!

"no, they live in canada." luca fidgets in place as four pairs of eyes stare at him with clear skepticism. "i'm serious!"

the group looks at each other and comes to a collective agreement.

"luca," ike says hesitatingly. "you don't have to lie to us." vox pats his shoulder comfortingly and nods.

"yeah, big guy. it really is ok if you're single on valentine's day. the whole thing is a capitalistic scam anyways." luca flounders and vox has to appreciate him sticking to the bit, even if he did feel a tad disappointed at the fact his friend thought he had to lie to them.

"what about social media? what's their instagram?" mysta questions, already pulling up the app on his phone once again. luca rolls his eyes.

"they don't have instagram," he reveals. "social media isn't their thing." luca pauses for a moment. "actually, i think one of their friends has a picture of them on their page.” ike, shu, mysta, and vox lean forward in interest.

luca takes mysta's phone and taps on the search bar. he clicks on an account of a short haired blonde girl before sighing in disappointment.

"never mind. millie removed all her posts again." ike, shu, mysta, and vox slump back.

"anyways," luca starts, returning mysta’s phone and swallowing the last piece of his sandwich before standing up and dusting off his pants. "i gotta get going before i miss my—miss my class. see ya!" luca waves with a grin before jogging off. the remaining members stare at where he just stood.

"there's no way they're real," ike deadpans.

following the reveal of luca’s very real, not fake, canadian partner, the blonde starts using them as an excuse every time there’s a get together.

“i can’t, tonight’s movie night! he replies excitedly when vox invites him to go drinking after exams.

a week later: “not today, we’re playing overcooked!”

“i think they’ve had a bad day and i wanna call them.”

“sorry, i already made plans.”

the other four members of their group have been sneaking glances at each other every time luca evades their clutches, slowly becoming more and more upset with every (perceived) lie coming out of their friend’s mouth. if he really didn’t want to hang out with them, he should just be honest and say so instead of doing whatever—whatever this is.

today’s excuse was, “tomorrow’s our anniversary and i gotta get ready!”

mysta stares at the spot luca previously occupied before he ran off in the direction of the dorms. the brunette’s frowning, gnawing on his lower lip and bouncing his knee repeatedly. nearby students stare at him with mild annoyance and inch away.

“what the actual hell.” ike looks up from his worksheet and casts a nervous glance at the librarian. hopefully they were far enough away that they wouldn’t hear their inevitably loud conversation. he couldn't deal with another scolding this week.

“why does he keep ditching us,” mysta scowls, now leaned back rather precariously in his chair and chewing on the tip of his pencil. ike chooses not to respond despite agreeing with his friend, currently more preoccupied with his essay. vox and shu, however, have no such priorities at the moment and thus can entertain mysta’s concerns.

“does he not like us anymore?” vox frowns, suddenly a bit insecure. shu nudges his arm with a gentle smile.

“nah, luca isn’t the type of person to just ghost us like this. maybe he really is dating someone,” he says cheerfully. vox and mysta lock eyes before resolutely shaking their heads.

“no. there’s no way,” vox vehemently denies, mysta nodding in agreement. shu hums in response, twirling his pen in his hand with a contemplative expression.

“i dunno,” he muses. “i mean, luca’s like, a good looking guy. would it really be that surprising for him to have a partner?”

“yes!” mysta exclaims, slamming a hand down on the mahogany table. “he doesn’t even react whenever someone tries to flirt with him! he’s too dense to date!” more than a few people swivel their heads toward them at the noise and glare.

“luca may be hot but he doesn’t, y’know. have much rizz.” vox winces, feeling a bit bad about talking behind their friend’s back like this.

the four men silently mull over every possible reason they could think of as to why luca keeps disappearing on them. eventually, dinnertime arrives and they each say their goodbyes before heading out for the night. hopefully the mystery surrounding their friend will be resolved soon; it’s been too long since the five of them got to hang out all together.

there’s something wrong with luca.

in their shared 8AM class, shu notices the smile he gave in greeting didn’t quite reach his eyes. he kept shooting glances at his phone all morning, noticeably more than usual.

“hey,” shu whispers, leaning in close. “you okay?”

luca hums distractedly, his response a little delayed.

“yeah, it’s nothing,” he grins before turning forward to face the professor. shu stares at his side profile for a few seconds and wonders what his friend might be thinking about that might have caused his less-than-stellar mood. unfortunately, luca packed up and slipped out of the lecture hall almost immediately after they were dismissed, leaving shu in the dust and wondering how he could cheer up his friend.

ike can sense his gloom from a mile away. the english major runs into him on his way to the student store—quite literally. luca was looking down at his phone and didn’t see the other man until they bumped heads, both of their belongings spilling onto the ground around them.

“ouch… you good, luca?” ike asks, fixing his glasses that went askew.

“yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” he answers, rubbing the back of his neck. ike observes him for a moment before reaching to pick up his things. perhaps the blonde thought he was worried he got hurt in their little scuffle. don’t get him wrong—of course he cares—but in ike’s humble opinion, his friend’s mental state was a smidge more important than his physical at the moment.

luca grabs his phone and groans. looking over, ike can see a large crack going down the middle of the screen which was glitching at random intervals.

“ah, i’m so sorry, luca” he apologizes, feeling guilty. luca waves him off.

“it’s not your fault,” he reassures, although judging by the look on his face, he was clearly upset. “i gotta run—see ya, ike.” before the other could even respond, luca shoves his broken phone into the pocket of his hoodie and stands up, turning the corner without another word.

“bye, luca…” ike mumbles dejectedly.

mysta and vox are waiting at the back of the line in the cafeteria for lunch when luca shows up behind them with a forlorn expression on his face. vox doesn't notice, however, and grins at his arrival, wrapping an arm around luca’s shoulder and ruffling his hair.

“why didn’t you pick up the phone?” vox whines. “i called you like, five times.” luca shrugs off his arm and takes a step back from the duo. vox and mysta frown at his reaction, realizing their friend wasn’t in the best of moods at the moment.

“it died,” luca grumbles, letting out a loud huff. the three of them slowly move up the line, grabbing items off the counter and placing them on their respective trays. luca’s was noticeably empty.

“we’re out of pizza, sorry,” the cafeteria worker says, shrugging helplessly. “the only thing we have left is salad.” mysta looks down at his tray guiltily knowing he must have taken the last plate. he opens his mouth to offer it to luca but the other man just takes the plate of salad with furrowed brows and pursed lips.

they eat in tense silence—luca stabbing the greens rather aggressively with his fork while the other two share concerned looks.

'should we ask him what's wrong?' vox mouths, nodding his head in luca's direction. mysta frowns, worried that their questions might just make him more irritated. on the rare occasions that he's upset, luca usually chooses to distance himself from others until he calms down in case he ends up taking out his frustrations on them. at his core, luca is kind, and he doesn't want to hurt the people he cares about.

deciding to wait for his friend to come to them instead, mysta shakes his head. it won't do them any good now to talk to luca when he's this wound up.

after luca leaves, the two immediately call ike and shu to come up with a plan. when the duo hears of the others' run ins with their friend today, the four come to a collective agreement.

"so..." shu starts, staring at the door in front of them. "what're we gonna say?"

the group stands in front of luca and vox's shared dorm room holding a variety of items: cheddar cheese pringles, ike's blue ray dvd of 'shrek,' and ice cream cake. hopefully luca's calmed down enough now and they can attempt to improve his mood. the sun is just barely starting to set and dinner won't be for another hour—maybe they can order pizza to make up for lunch?

before any of them can come up with something, however, they hear a loud noise coming from inside that sounded suspiciously like something breaking. panicking, vox shoves the cake into mysta's arms and frantically searches his person for his dorm key. fumbling to open the door, vox trips over a pair of shoes in the doorway that don't belong to him nor luca (not that he notices in his alarm).

"luca!" vox calls out worriedly. "are you oka-"

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

ike's sudden screech startles everyone in the dorm. all six of them.

pressed against the wall was luca, staring at his friends with wide eyes and tussled hair. his lips were slightly swollen and there was a faint line of drool on his chin, the hoodie he was wearing thrown haphazardly onto the couch. holding him against said wall was a rather attractive stranger with equally ruined hair and flushed cheeks, both of their necks clearly littered with hickeys, although luca's noticeably more so. on the floor next to them lay the sorry remains of vox's lamp.

mysta's eye twitches.

"um. hello," you wave, trying to subtly fix your hair and clothes while luca leans against the wall, dazed and still shirtless.

"you must be luca's friends, it's great to meet finally you all!"

at your words, the group suddenly reanimates from where they stood frozen in the doorway.

"you're—you're real. you're actually real." ike stammers. "you're luca's partner?!"

you shift awkwardly, nodding. did your boyfriend not talk about you to them?

mysta stares at you, mouth agape as he struggles to process the scene before him.

you're the farthest thing from what he's imagined, which is rather impressive considering he wasn't able to come up with anything at all. how in the hell did luca manage to cuff somebody as hot as you?!

"what the fuck," he says eloquently. that just about sums up everyone's reaction, minus the apparently real couple.

"...my lamp," vox weakly adds, unable to say anything more complicated than monosyllables in his shock.

shu—god bless his soul—comes to his senses quicker than the others and hurriedly places the gifts on a nearby counter before pushing his friends out the dorm, sending a wink your way and slamming the door shut behind him leaving you and luca alone once again.

your eyes glance over the stuff with an amused expression on your face. turning to face your lover, you slam your hands against the wall next to his head and peck him on the lips.

"what's up with that?" you ask, nodding your head toward the presents. luca blinks at you, taking a moment to process your question in the aftermath of the chaos that just ensued.

"they probably—uh. i think they wanted to cheer me up," he guesses. you hum in response, running your fingers through soft blonde hair. luca let's his eyes fall shut and sighs contentedly.

"were you upset earlier, baby?" you ask, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck before biting down. luca whines above you as his arms tense from where they were wrapped around your waist.

"mmm, i thought you forgot about me," he admits, shivering at the feeling of your warm tongue laving against the freshly formed bruise. "you weren't replying to any of my messages."

you chuckle, pulling back to gaze lovingly at your cute boyfriend.

"of course i didn't forget about you, luca, or our anniversary. i'm sorry i didn't tell you i was flying over before, i wanted to surprise you," you coo, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind his ear.

"it's ok, i'm just happy you're here," luca mumbles, holding you tightly. with a laugh, you pull away but before he could even think about protesting, you grab his wrist and drag him toward his bed.

"you sure you don't want an apology?" you tease, enjoying the way luca's face burns red at the implication.

"n-no! i mean, yes! i want an apology! please!"

"of course, baby," you purr, pushing him onto the mattress and straddling his hips. "let me make it up to you."

outside, the four men stood frozen in the same position they were in when they got forced out of the room five minutes ago.

"holy shit," vox breathes, "luca gets bitches."

##WRITTEN ON 230220

[detroitbecomeonline]

Who is fanon Sixty for you? I have seen the range from glue eating dumbfuck to sadistic rapist

I've seen that range too, and it's wild how people can interpret and add to the base of Sixty as a character. Technically it's just a warped version of Connor, but like... Incredibly, so, so much worse (affectionate). I mean I will not(TM) write an essay about how he's not a 'character' as such but symbolism for Connor's self-reflection and

For me, fanon Sixty exists in all fanon forms equally, because that's how I like to interpret canon stuff too. (Multiple timelines = different ways you can interpret a specific behaviour or choice.) BUT I do have content preferences, and glue-eater is definitely one of them lmfaoooo

Either way, I don't actually like the versions of Sixty I've seen the fandom adopt (it's just personal preference), yet I don't have my OWN headcanons about the character since I haven't played enough rounds to hear all his evil monologues lol. (I like to discover things organically, so I stay away from YouTube.)

But fanon Sixty to me is just... Connor. If Sixty survives the bullet in the head and goes on to deviate and live life, then he's Connor up until he deviates, just like Connor in crossroads. He has the ability to adopt his own personality, and interests, and assign himself personal goals which could look very different from Connor. Connor (according to Bryan) would become a palaeontologist I think if he no longer worked at the DPD. For Sixty, using the same skills of reconstruction, licking stuff, and tracking where things had been, I think he would become an efficient game hunter and could be called to take down bears or other dangerous animals that bother farms. He wears a cap but his pickup truck blares show tunes. His hunting pals hate him, but he's the best. He's formal, logical, and doesn't mind doing the dirty work. Clean at home, filthy in the field, always in the long grass and shrubs. Imagine just... dungaree!Connor, basically. He lures animals out with replicating sounds. (We all know how he lures Hank out and about smh.) And as a deviant, he cares for animals enough to understand how the wilderness works. Plus, he can find a cliff to monologue upon well after the sun has set.

Sixty would visit Connor to give Hank free meat (he knows Hank loves meat) (and he has a dimmed affection for him due to Connor's memories) and they'd hang out and play video games together. Connor and Sixty exclusively play on Russian lobbies and are absolute bots at it as a duo.

To me, Sixty is dead either way. If he kills Connor, CyberLife replaces him, but of course, he can die in the tower. If they somehow got him out altogether with the android army, he's still as smart and calculating as Connor is. He's still willing to do anything for the mission, but whatever is strictly necessary for the mission. On the fanon scale of "glue eating dumbfuck to sadistic rapist" (so well put anon btw) I wouldn't know where to rate him because fanon Connor is hardly aligned on that scale. Connor's fanon scale is like, good boy - evil machine - submissive - dominant (LIKE A POLITICAL SPECTRUM LMAO???) and I rank fanon Sixty on the same wavelength as Connor, which in my headcanon, is also up to interpreTATION FROM THE MEDIA WHENCE IT CAME. IDK if I'm making sense anymore. Sixty exists in the void but he's still a hunter to me.

For the record, I really enjoy @poorlydrawnandroids' interpretation of Sixty. That one's my favourite. It lingers in the salty-idiot area on the scale.

[earthtooz]

what is your opinion on pineapples on pizza 🎤

*steals the mf mic from you aggressively* 🎤 AMAZING. NO OTHER WAY TO SAY THIS. people who don't like pineapple on pizza just a) saw that suddenly everyone is hating on pineapples on pizza and decided to be SHEEPS and joined the trend, growing faux animosity for such an innocent fruit, or b) just don't like pineapples LMFAOOOOO

sorry i evidently love pineapples on pizza 🍕🍍, i think they're a good topping! they add a hint of sweetness that's not too overbearing and when you have an overload of such salty things, something sweet and acidic is a nice addition to add. plus they're crunchy.

i will never not advocate for pineapples on pizza.

but thanks for asking, wbu u anon? what's ur opinion of pineapple on pizza? imagine you tell me that you HATE pineapples on pizza and i'm just gonna have to sit here like: oh... that's fine 😐 LMFAOOOO I'M KIDDING

[wadebae]

I hate “discourse” but I have something to say. There are still ppl in the year 2020 who think asexuals are “trying to invade” lgbt spaces or some shit and hate us in extremely radicalized and concerning ways, and it’s disgusting. You might not be asexual and you might not care, but there’s a reason why there’s a huge overlap with people who hate aces and people who hate trans women. There’s a reason why people who buy into this can often also spew such radicalized hate speech that they sounds indistinguishable from TERFs, despite perhaps literally being the polar opposite of a TERF.

There’s a reason why there’s been a push to have young lgbt people swallow the propaganda of “queer is a slur” and “don’t trust anyone who calls themselves queer” despite the fact that the same people will often reclaim dyke, fag, or gay as their own proud identities. And there’s nothing wrong with that. My issue lies with the hypocrisy of policing the labels of others.

So why are those slurs ok to reclaim and not queer? Because queer is “too inclusive” and “will allow undesirables into the community.” But Queer was the rallying cry of your own history. It was a reclamation of yes, a slur, used to spit back into the face of heteronormativity and those who violently wanted us dead. It’s been used in popular media - Queer as Folk, Queer Eye - for decades. It’s used in college courses. Queer History. Queer Studies.

Queer is perhaps the one most all-encompassing word, if you don’t want to use an “alphabet soup” of letters for fear of diminishing any one community’s validity to stand alongside one another. But those who hate the word, think that the community should be boiled down to just LGBT as if that’s all we are and all we ever were, when history points to the contrary.

It honestly breaks my heart -- not that one might be offended by the word, because we all have our own experiences of what slurs were used against us personally and which ones we’ll never reclaim. But rather it breaks my heart because there are many, many LGBTQ+ folks who feel that queer is the only one word that can actually describe them without misrepresenting part of their identity. People are complex. We cannot all fit into one or two boxes, nice and neat, no matter how often I’ve wished I could myself because it would be less confusing.

Queer as an identity meant to be all-encompassing, like a verbal blanket that says, yes you do belong even if you don’t have the words yet to describe yourself or never will.

When you tell a stranger, *I* do not identify as queer, therefore *you* are not allowed to use it, you’re not only spitting in their face but also in the faces of people who came before us and paved the way so Pride can be a celebration today instead of a funeral march or a riot. There are people who want Pride to be a riot again but don’t even remember what that means or who started it.

When you push down others who don’t fit nice and neat into just L, G, B, or T, (people who often do identify with one or more of these communities, but who also can only find comfort in additional labels, or god forbid, one nebulous label like ‘queer’ because it’s the only place they truly feel at ease) you’re standing alongside a history of oppressors who said that we are all wrong. Because to people who violently hate us, it doesn’t matter if you’re a lesbian, a gay man, bisexual, trans, pansexual, poly, genderfluid, nonbinary, asexual, aromantic, demi, agender, genderqueer, or whatever words we might have to describe ourselves, if you don’t fit the mold, to them you’re just queer and something to stamp out. They do not care what you are exactly.

I know why people get annoyed. It’s strange to have new labels crop up, especially when they don’t describe you and you’ll never fully understand what it feels like. But just because the words are new (to you) doesn’t mean that what it describes is new. Yes, there are many, many labels and micro-identities. There’s an explosion of young people who feel safe enough to test the waters and see what sticks. If it’s silly, it will fall out of use. If it makes sense, it will endure.

I know why people get scared. The world is full of horrible people, nazis, racists, rapists, pedophiles, trolls who twist our own words against us to try to invalidate our lived experiences. But by lashing out against other LGBTQ+ people, you don’t fight off “the invaders”, you just rip the community into pieces. There are young, questioning, scared kids growing up right now and seeing this shit and being actually damaged by the gatekeeping and toxic behavior aimed within the community. Young people need to know it’s okay to try different labels and it’s okay to not know yet, or to never know.

The community isn’t a castle you can protect. You either are LGBTQ+ or you are not. You cannot know someone else’s mind and feelings and whether they are what they say they are. You can only see their words and actions. Instead of worrying about policing other people’s labels and who is barred from imaginary castles, worry about how people behave towards others. Because I do not care who you are, if you are harassing people, spreading harmful misinformation, making hate speech, or sending threats, you fucking suck and you become part of the problem. No number of labels will protect you from being a shitty human being. You might be “part of the community” but you will never be welcome in my book. That’s how that works.

[iamanartichoke]

[noxtivagus]

bruh discord putting 'member since' now in about mes is making me HSJFJDJS bcs i have two accounts, one from ever since 2018 but that's an alt account now so / seeing 2021 on my main ( which most people know ) is 💀

[kiwixlime]

Fire

R is for Rivals

You’re the cool leader of Jackson. Who the fuck is Joel Miller? 

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader  Warnings: Hate fucking, really. Joel is mean. Reader is also mean. Unprotected p-in-v, dirty talk, name calling, degradation, choking, scratching, slapping, age difference. We gettin’ rough up in here, yall. also p.s., sorry if my writing in the beginning is sloppy, i really just wanted to get into the dirty stuff lmfaoooo. and this isn't proofread, i'm sorry i'm sorry.

For months, you’ve been the cool superior of Jackson. Being young gave you an advantage that a lot of the other higher-ups didn’t have. The kids in town came to you for support. And the adults, the ones much older than you, were impressed by your quick wit and eagerness to learn. You had charm, youth, and vigor on your side. It’s the only reason you were offered such a powerful position in the town at your age. 

So you can imagine your surprise when you begin to hear talks around town about someone named “Joel” and just how interesting and mysterious he is. Apparently, he’s some super impressive old man who is also handsome and scary and the brother of Tommy. Nepotism, of course. Your first thought. Your second thought is - who the fuck is this guy and why is he trying to swerve into your lane? 

You are the fun leader. You are the one who always has large groups and endless patrol list requests. People come to you for the excitement, for your personality. But now, there are whispers of Joel. Joel this. Joel that. Well, you’ve had enough of Joel. 

Is it petty? Immature? Maybe. Okay, yes, it is. But do you care? No. After the fourth person brings up that man’s name, you can’t sit quietly anymore. Patience has never been your strong suit. 

You make a plan to confront Joel about overstepping. He’s new, so he doesn’t know how things work around here yet. And that’s okay, you suppose. You can fill him in. And maybe he’ll back off, and you’ll get your fanbase back. Perhaps you're being a little dramatic, but what else do you have to look forward to these days? Celebrities aren't real anymore. But you're as close as it gets. 

So you're on a mission as you stomp your way through town, dipping into shops and checking around corners for any sight of Tommy or Maria or whoever that might know something about Joel's whereabouts. Passersby offer you friendly smiles, asking how you are, making usual chit-chat. You appreciate their efforts, but you’re still salty that your normal band of followers has fucked off to tail someone else. So you aren't exactly in the mood for conversation. 

When you make it to the stables, you find Tommy speaking with Ian, one of the men who work with the horses. Tommy greets you, unaware of your irritation, which only flares up more when you learn that Joel is on a patrol. By request of the residents. The ones that usually line up to work with you. 

That pisses you off. No one invited you to the outing. You don’t think it’s fair, but you swallow your pressing thoughts and thank Tommy for the information. The last thing you need to do is complain to your rival’s brother. 

Defeated, you return home and spend the rest of the day deciding how to approach this intruder. Knowing that he’s related to the most powerful couple in town, you should be polite. You should be friendly - introduce yourself and make nice. But hey, you’re still young. Sure, you’ve had to grow up pretty quickly in this environment, but you still get to act like a brat. It’s your obligation as a youth. 

A quick shower, nap, and some food restore your energy, adding a pep to your step and determination in your heart. You’re sure the last patrol group is back by now. It’s nightfall, and Maria is adamant about everyone returning before it gets pitch black. 

They’re probably all gathered at Seth’s, which isn’t your favorite place to hang out since he gives you the creeps. But you’ll suffer if it means meeting the enemy. Even though you spent all day thinking over what you were going to say, you’re at a total loss for words. You don’t want to show immaturity, but damn it, you’re pissed. 

So you swing open the door, immediately overwhelmed by the number of bodies throughout the room. Is this Joel’s doing? Does he have this kind of pull already? 

“Christ, who is this guy?” You mumble to yourself as you squeeze through groups of people, all whispering to themselves. You spot Tommy easily and assume that Joel will be close by. When you get a moment of space, you let your eyes scan your surroundings and sure enough, standing next to Tommy stands an unfamiliar man with an unfamiliar girl. 

Joel.

You hate to admit this; you really do. But as you stare at his large figure, drinking in his rugged features, you can’t stop yourself from thinking he is, actually, hot as fuck. He’s tall and fit with dark hair and intense eyes. For a second, you forget you’re supposed to hate him, as he looks like an actual God standing before you. 

Okay, you get the hype a little bit. 

Maybe you can be friends. Maybe you can work together. You wouldn’t mind having someone like him on your side… Even if it’s just to look at him. 

New plan. You compose yourself and glide over, ready to make your introductions. A smile finds your lips, albeit hesitantly. You're still competitive, after all. Tommy notices you and stops talking, offering you his arm for a hug, which you accept. 

“Hey, kid,” he says, playfully ruffling your hair. “Missed ya today. Hope you got enough rest, you’ve got a big patrol tomorrow.” He tells you. 

“Really?” You beam, happy to hear that some of this town still has their loyalty to you. “That’s great. I can’t wait!” 

“Joel,” Tommy acknowledges his brother. “This girl right here is special,” he says as he introduces you by name. “I think you’ll find her rather impressive. She’s the youngest leader in Jackson.” 

Tommy speaks like he’s proud of you. And you’re extremely thankful for his praises. All those positive words go to your head, stroking the embers of your ego. You turn to Joel, waiting for his thoughts, frowning when he begins laughing. 

“You’re kiddin’ me, right?” He asks, looking at Tommy with bewilderment. “You put a child in charge?” His face is cold and emotionless. The warmth that had been decorating his facade has slipped as he stares you down. 

“Hey!” You snap, instantly offended, your own switch flipping. “I’m not a child. I’m 21, thank you very much.” Ew, you think. What a dick. Your first assumption about him was correct, and you were stupid to think otherwise. But that's what you get for letting lust take over your command. 

“Right,” he chuckles, brushing you off like you’re nothing more than an interruption. A child. “Tommy, there’s no way this girl is qualified to run anything.” His words are hurtful, and he doesn't even care that you're standing right there. 

Well, you can be just as rash. “And you are, grandpa?” You huff, taking Tommy and the unnamed girl by surprise. The girl slowly steps away until she's out of the picture, but you continue on your rant. “You sure you can handle it out there? Aren’t you afraid of breaking a hip?” 

“Oh, that's mature of you,” Joel scoffs, pointing out exactly what you were thinking. Not your best response, and you’re sure Tommy is less than thrilled with you right now. But fuck that. You’re not going to let some stranger talk down on you like this. Who cares how important he thinks he is?

“Hey, man,” you start, closing the gap between the two of you. He has a whole foot on you as far as height goes, but you've taken down men bigger than him before because you're young. You're not afraid of him. “You don’t know shit about me. I came over here to introduce myself. I have done nothing to deserve this. Who the fuck are you?" 

Joel rolls his eyes, putting up a hand to stop your babbling. How dare he treat you that way? You look at Tommy, your mouth agape as your brain tries to scramble together a few words. Unfortunately, he’s of no help, just as lost as you are. He didn't think Joel was still surly. 

The older Miller doesn’t say another word to you, and it irritates you more than it should. You decide, from then on, Joel Miller is your opponent. And anytime someone mentions him, your blood boils. 

Months have passed, and for the residents of Jackson, they find their entertainment in the rivalry that’s built up between you and Tommy Miller’s older brother. They love to gossip about you and Joel. And even though it’s been a long time, you still can’t find common ground. He’s so full of himself. And you hate it. He acts like he’s better than everyone. And you know he’s not. 

You don’t have a problem letting him know that. Especially when he’s being a dick for no apparent reason. Looking at you with disgust. Snickering behind your back. And you're the child. God, you hate him. 

For example, one day, all you were doing was minding your own damn business at the bar. Your friends were there for a few minutes to catch up and ask your advice on something personal. And Joel, well, Joel had to make a comment about “daycare” or something along those lines, and you just lost it. 

You let your anger get the best of you, taking your drink and throwing it in his face. Of course, that caused him to lash out, grabbing you by the wrist and calling you an entitled brat with no grasp on the real world. If it hadn't been for Seth, that creep, you would have clawed Joel's eyes out with no remorse. 

But...there's always someone around to stop you from tearing that man to shreds. 

And that's how you ended up here, once again, arguing with Joel and Tommy at Seth's place. Someone, probably Maria, thought it would be funny to pair the two of you up for patrol tomorrow. She figured you’d either work out your issues or one of you would end up dead. Either way, the tension in Jackson would be gone. 

Maybe that’s drastic. But you wouldn’t put it past her. 

“It’s bullshit, Tommy!” Joel yells, snapping you back to the situation at hand. His face is written in anger, gritting his teeth as he repeatedly curses out his little brother for putting the two of you together. “This is ridiculous, I’m not takin' part in this!” 

“Joel, wait a damn minute,” Tommy interjects before his brother causes an even bigger scene. “This is for your own good!” He shouts, trying to convince even himself that this was the right decision. 

“My own good,” Joel seethes in disbelief. “Right. Ya know, you were stupid to put a goddamn kid in charge around here! She’s gonna get both of us killed. I’m not a goddamn babysitter!” 

Joel writes you off quickly, and it’s something that bothers you in ways you don’t quite understand. You work hard to prove yourself worthy of your position in Jackson. Having someone like Joel dismiss you without care is hurtful because you know that others will listen to him. They will follow along. 

“Hey, that’s not fair!” You chime in, standing up for yourself. “You don’t know what I’m capable of. I’ve done a damn good job of keeping these people safe. You don’t get to take that away from me!” 

“Oh, you know what?” Joel scoffs, simply irritated by the sound of your voice. “You can talk all you want, but the fact is - you are useless to me. You're just a stupid kid. And I'm not--” 

“Enough!” 

The loud interruption comes from Maria, standing off to the side with her hands on her hips, disappointment in her eyes. She looks at you, and at that moment, you want to scrunch up into a ball and die. This woman trusts you with her town, with her family. And here you are…acting like that angsty teenager she first met. Words can’t express how guilty you feel. 

But then she looks at Joel, and your heart rate slows as the heat is off you. You wonder if she’ll say anything to the older man. He’s the adult here. Well, the more mature adult. He should know better, right? Tommy’s brother or not, he should be put in his place. His words really hurt you...

“Joel,” she scolds, zeroing in on him. “This is for your own good. You need to learn how to get along with others. I paired you together because I feel like she can learn a lot from you,” Maria admits as she gestures to where you sit, slumped back against the wall with a sour stomach. “She’s a lot tougher than you think. And if you offered her a chance, you would be impressed.” 

You look at Joel, noting the tightness in his jaw as he bites his tongue to hold back some snarky comment. He doesn’t like hearing what Maria has to say, it’s so easy to pick up on. But he’s respectful enough to keep his mouth shut around her. At least it’s not all women he seems to disrespect. 

“And you,” she huffs as her attention shifts to you. Well, shit. You should have known you wouldn’t come out of this unscathed. “I admire your passion, I do. But honey, you’ve got to pull that in. You’re still mouthy, and no one wants to take orders from a naive, foolish girl.” 

“I’m sorry, Maria,” you say quickly, shame creeping its way up your spine. You stand back up and dust off your jeans, sheepishly looking at her. “You’re right.” 

“I know,” the woman states, crossing her arms in finality. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Joel,” she starts, eyes darting back to the bitter man beside you. “Think about Ellie,” she says, grabbing your attention. You take a chance to steal a gaze at the young girl, curious to know what her deal is. She doesn’t say much, and mostly sticks to Joel’s side like glue. A lot of questions linger at the back of your mind… “Ellie could learn a lot from this one.” She ends her sentence by nodding at you. 

And all it takes is that gentle notion from Maria. Your insecurities wash away, and whatever thoughts Joel may have of you, well, you don’t care anymore. Maria’s words are reassuring, and you appreciate the faith she has in you. 

Ellie blushes at the mention of her name and follows Maria out of the diner, the two of them speaking in whispers. When they're gone, you turn around and face Joel. Your confidence is back seeing him knocked down a few pegs. 

“See you tomorrow!” You chirp, holding your head high, bouncing away on your heels as you feel on top of the world. Tomorrow will be fine. 

The next morning, you’re up bright and early, just in time to see the sun peek through the clouds and welcome you. It’s a new day and although you spent most of the night tossing and turning, you’re ready to head out with Joel. You’ve made the decision to be the bigger person today. Be the person Maria knows you are. 

You’re the first one at the stables, greeting Ian with a bright smile and a little treat from home. You like to bake in your spare time, and you know that Ian appreciates the goodies you bring for him since he doesn’t get much time away in the mornings. Another little thing the residents love about you. 

You’re thoughtful. 

“Is she ready?” You ask, looking past him for your horse, Siren. 

Ian nods, pocketing the muffin for a later time. “All yours, m’lady,” he says as he hands you the reins. “Nice day today,” he adds, looking up at the sky. “She’ll be happy to stretch her legs.” 

“I bet,” you coo, giving your loveable horse some much needed affection. “I’m actually looking forward to the sunshine, too.” 

“Company,” Ian blurts before you can continue on with your thoughts. You crane your neck to look to where you just came from and sure enough, you see Joel stomping his way towards you with a sour look on his face. “Someone ain’t a morning person,” Ian chuckles. 

“Guess not,” you snort and hop on Siren. “Good morning, Joel,” you say blandly, maintaining a neutral expression. You can’t be nice, but you can be indifferent. “Lovely weather, isn’t it?” 

He looks at you, lip twitching in annoyance. “Whatever,” he grumbles, walking past you to his own horse. 

Wonderful, you think. Awesome. This is going to be the best patrol of your life! 

The gates close, and you and Joel head up the trail in silence. He doesn’t even look at you, doesn’t give you the time of day. His horse trots in front of yours, giving you the perfect view of his back. If only you had something you could throw at him, maybe knock him off his horse, watch him fall to the ground. 

You laugh to yourself at the thought, and it’s enough to grab Joel’s attention. He stops suddenly, letting you catch up. Once your horses are side-by-side, he sneers at you. 

“Somethin’ funny?” He snaps, his large hands turning into fists from sheer frustration. 

“Not at all,” you lie with a shrug of your shoulders. 

“God,” he groans, shaking his head. “Can’t believe I got stuck with you,” he mutters. 

“Well,” you hiss, “I’m not exactly thrilled to be out here with you, either. Let’s just…get this over with. It’ll go by much faster if you stop complaining about a 21 year old girl!” 

Irritation takes over and you give in to it, ordering Siren to ride ahead of Joel. You’re trying to be better, to be good. But it’s so fucking difficult with that man. Your mere existence seems to set him off. 

It doesn’t take long after that to reach the first outpost. You tie Siren up outside, quickly entering the old library and leaving Joel behind. He comes in after you, boots echoing against the crumbling floor. You walk in different directions to check out each room before meeting up to sign the ledger. 

You check the notes from the previous patrol, humming to yourself as you read through what Eugene left behind. Next to you, Joel taps his foot impatiently, and you can feel his body practically towering over you. But you don’t rush. You let out a little laugh at the drawing Eugene and his partner left for you and for whatever reason, that makes Joel snap. 

“Can you hurry the fuck up?” He grumbles with crossed arms. “What’s so damn amusing in that book?” 

“What is wrong with you?” You decide to ask, slamming the notebook shut and throwing the pen down beside it. You walk around the desk, putting objects between you and Joel for his safety. “Are you always this rude? Even to your brother? Or that girl…Ellie?” 

“That’s none of your business,” he warns, circling the desk you purposely put yourself behind. He comes up to you and you almost stumble back in fear at the pure rage in his eyes. But you hold your ground. “The only issue I have here is workin’ with some juvenile brat.” 

“Me?” You huff in disbelief. “I’m the brat? You’ve been nothing but a dick since I met you! How have I offended you that badly? Or are you jealous? You’re not in your prime anymore, are you? Hate to see us younger folk taking over?” 

He shakes his head and slams his fist onto the desk. “You think you’re hot shit, don’t you?” He taunts with a smug grin. “I’ve heard the stories. You’re the fun one. The young one. People like you.” 

“Yeah, and?” You breathe once you realize how close he’s gotten to you. 

He smiles and leans down so his breath crashes against the side of your face. He brings his lips to your ear and in the quietest voice, he says, “the only reason these people like you is because they want to fuck you.” 

You’re so taken aback by his remark, fuming at the audacity of his accusation. Without hesitation, you bring your hand up and slap him harshly across the face. He lets out a laugh, grabbing you by the wrist. 

“Watch yourself, little bitch,” he spits and a fire flares within you. You raise your other hand, but Joel’s quick, grabbing you before you can touch him. He spins you around and shoves you back against the desk, making you let out a tiny whimper. 

You’re both breathing heavily. Joel’s hard body is firmly pressed to yours. Maybe it’s the weather, or maybe it’s the emotions that have been building in you since you met, but you can’t deny there is something there. 

So when his eyes flick to your lips, you throw caution to the wind. You lean into him, pressing your lips against his in a heated kiss he eagerly returns, letting go of your wrists and instead grabbing you by the back of your head. He tugs on your hair as your hands smooth over his chest. This wanton fascination cascades over you with your nails clawing at the buttons of Joel’s shirt. 

Not exactly what you were imagining for today, but now it’s all you can think about. The hostility towards Joel threatens to bubble over, frothing inside of you, screaming to release. This is the healthiest way, yeah? This or murder… And from the way he firmly bites on your lip, you know this will feel so much better. 

“Fuck,” he drawls out, long and breathy as his hand moves to cup your face. The other squeezes against your hip, practically shaking as he bunches up your shirt. Your body reacts the only way it knows how, pouting and letting out a delicious moan that makes Joel laugh his stupid fucking cocky laugh. “Oh?” He teases, dragging his hand down from your cheek to your chin, tilting your head up. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? All this time. You want someone to fuck you stupid.” 

Resentment simmers low in your belly, but it’s, unfortunately, not the only thing you’re feeling. You can’t deny what Joel said is true. Even when he’s rude to you, you just want him to use those words, call you those names, while his dick is buried inside of you. A classic hate fuck. 

“Answer me,” Joel demands in a low voice, his thumb brushing over the plushness of your bottom lip. His eyes meet yours, forcing you to hold the uncomfortable contact and making you squirm. “Tell me you fuckin’ want me,” he growls in a whisper. 

You glare at him. He has you right where he wants you and you hold no power here. “I want you,” you state through gritted teeth. 

The smile that stretches across his lips is perverse and you want to kiss it right off of him. But you can’t. Joel uses his strength to lift you off your feet easily, dropping you on the desk and forcefully pushing you down until your back hits the cold wood. You spread your legs on instinct and Joel fits between them easily. His palm slides up your body, between your tits until it wraps around your throat. 

Joel notices the way your eyes gleam with excitement and the tiny sound you make as his fingertips dig into your soft flesh. A light clicks in his mind as he discovers one of your nasty little secrets. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He asks, experimentally gripping your throat a little harder. “You like the way my hand feels, cutting off your breath, squeezing so fucking tight your eyes roll back until you see stars. You feel helpless, huh? I have the power here. I’m in charge.” He sets his gaze over your weak body. “I could fuckin’ break you.”  

You whine, attempting to speak, but you can’t. All you can do is choke and nod your head the tiniest bit as ecstasy sets in. You’re stupid to trust him. You are. But fuck, he’s so good. 

“What’s the matter, bunny?” Joel taunts in a voice sickeningly sweet. Bunny. That shouldn’t be as hot as it is. But no one’s ever called you that before. “Can’t speak?” He chuckles as he loosens his grip, proving he won’t actually hurt you. But he smirks. “Good. That’s just the way I like you.” 

“J-Joel,” you choke and he removes his fingers from the side of your neck. He gives you time to catch your breath, watching your chest rise and fall with each deep inhale you take. 

“Say it,” he demands as he pushes up your shirt. You sit up weakly just long enough for him to take it off and throw it to the ground. His hands immediately grab your tits and you let out a raspy moan. “Whatever you’re thinking,” Joel groans. “Say it.” 

“Fuck you,” you spit, digging your nails into his forearms and shoving his hands off of you. You sit up and reach for his jeans, but he slaps your fingers away. 

“I don’t think so,” he says darkly, easily knocking you back down. His body hovers over you and the urge to kiss him bites at your tongue. “I’ll be the one fucking you.” 

You sneer and grab his shirt, bringing him down onto you. Your lips meet in a bruising kiss again, his mouth claiming yours, asserting his dominance. He kisses you so hard the air gets knocked from your lungs. Your throat burns, eyelids grow heavy, but you can’t pull away from him. His lips are so warm, so fierce. And his tongue is so silky as it glides against yours. 

“You’re such an asshole,” you mutter between kisses, yanking on his hair as you catch your breath once more. He seems to like when you tug at his scalp, groaning in delight each time your fingers pull at the salt and pepper strands. 

“And you’re a bratty little bitch,” Joel snaps back, dragging your lip between his teeth, biting down and making you squeak. “Still gonna fuck you, though. Somebody’s gotta fuck that attitude out of you.” 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes and capture his lips again. His kiss is addictive, tantalizing. You’re on fire from your toes to your fingers and you crave more. 

When you let out a soft gasp, Joel breaks. He grabs your throat again, keeping you pinned to the desk as he kisses you with everything in him. His other hand trails down to your thigh, lifting your hips into his, leaving no space. He grinds himself into you, and you groan at the friction of his hardening dick pressing to your core. Fuck, you hate him. And that makes this so much hotter. 

“Goddamn,” he breathes, squeezing your ass for the first time. “You are so fuckin’ hot,” he mutters as you arch your body into him. “And so fuckin’ needy,” he comments at your desperate wiggling beneath him. “You look good like this. Bet you’d look even better drunk on my cock, huh?” 

“Are you gonna talk about fucking me or are you actually going to fuck me?” You huff, smacking at his chest, which is still hidden behind his damn shirt. You tilt your head just as a smart comment rolls off your tongue. “Do you even have it in you, old man?” 

Joel’s eyes darken at your quip, his large hand around your throat tightens before sliding up to knot in your hair. He grabs a handful of your locks, and yanks your head back, exposing your pretty neck to him. “Impatient one, aren’t you? Are you that desperate for my cock? My greedy little bunny,” he coos, his other hand smacking your ass. Hard. 

You gasp at the feeling and let out the most pathetic sound you’ve ever heard. Of course, it makes him smirk. You’ll never hear the end of this. Might as well play along. So you bite your lip and nod your head, letting out another whimper. “Fuck me, Joel,” you purr, voice soft and sweet, despite the crude words that follow. “Fuck me like I’m a slut… Like I’m your slut. If you can.”

His jaw clenches and his lips dip to your neck. He kisses the area softly before his teeth scrape over your beautiful skin. He bites at your pulse point, soothing the sting with his tongue before repeating the action. He kisses down your neck, nibbling at every inch of skin available to him, leaving bruises, reminders - a branding. You’re his now. All while his hard dick ruts into you. 

His beard tickles you as he sucks your sensitive flesh past his lips, but this is no time to laugh or giggle. There’s nothing light and playful about this. This is pure hatred flowing out of both of you, coming together the only way that seems fitting. 

Your eager hands shove his flannel over his shoulders and he shimmies out of it until it hits the floor, followed by his gray undershirt. He’s quick to work on your jeans, pulling them down in frustration. You’d offer to help, but seeing him struggle is much better. 

“Damn it, even your pants are a pain in the ass,” he grumbles as he finally gets you out of them. He throws them to the ground and eyes you over.  “But fuck, look at you,” he groans, long fingers tracing the thin fabric of your panties. He slips his finger beneath the band, sweeping between your dripping folds. “So wet already, baby,” he smirks, doing it again. “You like it when I touch you? You like when I choke you?” 

“Uh huh,” you moan, tilting your hips up, enamored by his touch. His fingers are rough and calloused, but they feel so good gliding over your slit. You shamelessly push back against his hand, needing more, needing to feel full. 

“Desperate slut,” he scoffs, but slides his finger into you with ease. You gasp at the intrusion, squirming at the feeling of his finger inside you. It’s been so long for you, you’re overly sensitive. The last time you hooked up with someone was when you first got to Jackson. When Joel adds a second finger, you nearly lose it. “Figures you get off on this,” he chuckles, pulsing two fingers in and out of your soaked cunt. 

He kisses your lips as he finger fucks you quickly. The obscene sounds you make as your pussy squelches around him would embarrass you if you weren’t in such a euphoric state. Instead, it makes you eager for more. You want it all. “God, Joel, go faster,” you huff as your walls clench around him. 

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do,” he warns as he turns his wrist, slowing down a bit so he’s barely hitting that sweet spot inside of you. He’s cruel, but you already know this. “Take what I give you like the sweet little slut you are,” he demands. 

“I fucking hate you,” you groan in frustration, desperate for his fingers. “Arrogant ass—”

“Of course you do,” Joel chuckles and slams his fingers past your walls again. “That’s why your pretty little pussy is clenching around my fingers. Tell me the truth, bunny, tell me you fuckin’ want it. Tell me you want my cock inside you.” 

Your mind goes hazy as Joel begins to toy with your clit. Each sensation soaring through you right now is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. But you’re stubborn, refusing to utter those words to Joel. But then he slips a third finger inside of you, curling them and filling you up. He grabs you by the neck again and forces you to look at him. 

“Tell me,” he growls. “Tell me you’re a dirty fuckin’ whore who needs my cock.” 

You can’t help it. His words are so hot and go straight to your dripping pussy. “Fuck,” you gasp as your head empties of any and all thoughts. You can’t believe you’re going to do this. Give in to Joel Fucking Miller. “I want it, Joel,” you murmur. “I’m a whore and I need your cock.” 

“Good girl,” he praises, stopping his brutal motions and slipping his fingers out of you. He flicks his tongue over his glistening digits before guiding them to your lips. “Taste yourself, bunny,” orders. “See how sweet you taste.” You open your mouth like a good girl and suck on his fingers, rolling your tongue over them and tasting your juices. “That mouth is good for something other than complaining,” he smirks. 

He undoes his jeans and pulls his cock out, jerking himself quickly in front of you. You reach down and rub yourself as you watch him, licking your lips at his thickness. He’s a jerk, a piece of shit, but he’s a hot guy with a big dick and you fucking need him. 

“Spread your legs,” he orders and you do, already in a trance. Damn, maybe you are a whore. His hand wraps around your throat again, a place he seems to love, and he thrusts into you. “Fuck, you have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this. Every time you’d open that snappy mouth of yours I’d think about how I could fuck the words right of you,” he admits. “I knew you’d be an eager little cockslut for me.” 

“Fuck off,” you groan even though he feels so fucking good stretching you out. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with and your toes immediately curl at how he fills you so well. 

“Oh, bunny,” he tsks, cock pushing into you. “I don’t think you want that,” he picks up the pace of his hips and the way he sounds as he pants in your ear turns your brain to mush. He smacks your ass, making you jolt and take him deeper. The slapping of your skin against his is fucking filthy as it resounds through the library, and you try to speak, but find yourself at a loss for words. “Just shut up and look pretty,” Joel tells you. “You’re good at one of those things.” 

“Oh, god,” you moan as he slams into you. He’s checking boxes you didn’t even know you had and you think to yourself how lucky you are to have his dick inside you right now. Now that you know what he feels like, you don’t want to share. You don’t want anyone else to experience his talent. You risk looking between your sweaty bodies, almost fainting at the slight tummy bulge he’s giving you. “God,” you whisper again. 

“Fucking right,” he hisses, fucking into your tight pussy. “I am your God. Now, stop fuckin’ talkin’ and take my cock like a good girl.” He growls through his teeth, pinning your hips down as he pounds into your wet heat. His mouth hangs open as deep grunts escape him and mumbles under his breath how good you feel around him. 

Closing your eyes, you grab onto Joel’s shoulders, holding yourself steady as he fucks your fragile body with force. Your back glides across the desk, slicked with sweat, as he uses you for his pleasure, groping your body, filling your holes, pulling your hips into his. He reaches so deep inside of you, your mouth lulls open, tiny whimpers falling off your tongue as he fucks you dumb. 

“You were meant to be fucked like this, used like a toy, like some silly little play thing,” he grunts, pounding into you, grabbing your arms and pinning them above your head. You let him. He’s in control of you. “Pussy feels so fucking good. You look good, too.” 

Heavy breaths fill the room. Joel’s relentlessly thrusting in and out of you, gasping in your ear, sharing his most erotic sounds. Your eyes are glazed over with lust, your head in the clouds, body surging with electricity. You feel so satisfied. You feel so fucked. 

Joel releases his grip on your wrists, allowing you to slide your arms across his shoulders and greedily pull him into you. You raise your hips, meeting each thrust, using your nails to claw down his back and leave your mark. And he lets you, he encourages you. 

“Gonna make me cum, darlin’,” he pants deeply, causing your velvety walls to clench around his hard cock. He laughs a little at your reaction. “You want that, don’t you? You want me to cum inside you? Fill you with my hot, sticky load? You wanna be my little cumbunny?” 

“Uh huh,” you mewl, dazed with fluttering eyelids and trembling limbs. You lock your legs around Joel’s waist and draw him deeper, grinding down against him to take him for everything he is. His cock, fuck, you love the way it feels, the way it reaches you in places you’ve never felt before. He is a God. He is your God. 

“Take my cock, baby,” Joel groans, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. “Fuck, you take it so well.” 

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” you cry, voice all strained and whiny. It turns his insides to jelly hearing you like that. Hearing you are satisfied with your yappy mouth only focusing on telling him how good he makes you feel. 

“You want me to touch you?” He asks, brushing his hand over your lower stomach, watching as your muscles constrict. “Want me to play with your slutty little clit?” 

You nod, speechless, mouth hanging open again like a bitch in heat. He loves the way you look right now. Loves to see your hair sticking to your face with sweat, loves to see your cheeks flushed, and your lips shiny with drool. 

“Pretty bunny,” he coos, circling your clit with his thumb. “Fucked stupid can’t even talk.” 

“Joel,” you groan in irritation, raising your hips. 

“Cum with me,” he whispers, rubbing your clit faster. “Cum with me like a good little cumbunny,” he groans. 

“Christ, Joel,” you murmur, eyes rolling back as your climax builds. The pressure from Joel’s fingers mixed with his thick cock pulsing inside of you tips you over the edge. And with a scream of his name, you cum, biting your lip as relief takes over you. 

Seeing you come undone is what sets Joel off. With a few more hard thrusts, he stalls, releasing his hot cum deep inside of you. You groan at the warmth, and shiver at how good it feels. He takes a few deep breaths, relaxing for a moment before slipping out of you. 

You lay back, a little disoriented as you think about what just happened. And about how hard you just came. You only snap into focus when Joel chuckles. 

“What’s so funny?” You pout, your defenses ready to go back up. 

“That was hot,” he says with sincerity. Then he leans over and kisses your nose. “Think I’ll keep you.” 

You roll your eyes and jump down from the desk to put your pants back on. “Asshole,” you say, but in an affectionate way. A cute way. Once you’ve slipped on your shirt, you wait for Joel to finish dressing. 

He sighs as he buttons his flannel and nonchalantly strolls over to you. He grabs your lower back, pulling you close to him. “You like it,” he says before kissing your lips.

Masterlist

Joel Miller Taglist: @swtaura - @chxpsi - @extraneous-trip - @cerebellam - @tiredbeebo - @kirsteng42 - @trickstersp8 - @detectivebarba

[narudoodles]

I've been going through the weird passive aggressive anons on Snow's blog who think it's OK to barge into an artist's ask box and demand fanart be drawn in a certain "racially accurate" way, even though this is a fandom and NS are just fictional characters and Snow's art is nothing other than stylised depictions of the manga version. I'm this close 🤏 to drawing Naruto and Sasuke as desi lmfaoooo. And maybe other fandom artists can then draw them in their own respective race/nationality too! 😂 we can have a bunch of Racially Accurate narutos and sasukes then, hmm?

How about it salty anons?

[taechnological]

Tbh I heard 1 min of the song. So i know the song and I think that the mv will be boring. And you can see that there is nothing in desert so they will do...nothing. and the outfit of these video? 😐 And who cut Jimin's hair? He doesn't look good. Why stylists can't do a better job

u know the song bc u heard 1 minute of the song..... where 💀 also i could see yoongi standing on a piano so there are definitely other objects in that desert as well lmfaoooo and the outifts are majorly references to previous eras (plus i'm sure they'll definitely show up in different fits too) and i'm not a fan of bowlcuts either but damn anon why u so salty 💀

[busterwolf]

Tumblr. Your least favorite character on tumblr. And also in Spider-Man (Both Miles and Peter)

I’m basing this on Ultimate Marvel (even if it’s dead lol) because I don’t even know wtf is going on with either of them anymore, but Norman. Lawd.

Also my least favorite character on tumblr is popular fandoms. They need Jesus.

[visenyatargaryen-archive]

BRO i remember when you were willowrosenbergh and you tagged me in that accent challenge thing and you were like yOU SOUND LIKE THE PEOPLE FROM SKINS and i was like '... ye... i'm from the city skins is set in lol' good lord that was ages ago wHY ARE WE STILL ON THIS HELLSITE FRIEND

OMG I REMEMBER THAT ACCENT CHALLENGE LMFAOOOO!!!! THAT MUST HAVE BEEN AT LEAST 2 YEARS AGO IF NOT MORE I REMEMBER THAT COMMENT I MADE OMG IDK WHY WE'RE STILL ON THIS HELLSITE ME PERSONALLY I AM TRAPPED HERE BY PRETTY EDITS AND SALTY POSTS. IM GONNA BE HERE FOREVER :)))))))

[sluttyten]

My friend measured me a few years ago and I was buzzing because he said I was 5'6 and Ive always been pretty small but when I started the gym a few weeks ago i got measured and I'm only 5'4 I was fucking mad lmfaoooo I'm going to be salty about it for the rest of our lives

but what if you’re already shrinking?

[bengalisms]

I always got anons telling me that the way I play MY OC is wrong.. MY OC! MINE! LMAO. And I've had this character for very long, like years, and I haven't broken 100 followers. Whereas my male canon blog gained over 100 followers in less than a week. Which I subsequently deactivated. Lol. Also my white male oc got more attention. But I love my mutuals so I'm not that salty about follower count

OCs FIGHT BACK. SHARE YOUR EXPERIENCES.

lmfAOOOO yeah i’ve had that happen too. My canon white muse got so many followers in 2 days I legit didn’t know how to handle it!!! follower count doesn’t matter but it really does feel good to see that a high number of people like your muse!