#the sweat is a paid actor

[excelsior9173]

havent seen this photo on here and i need it on my dash (source)

[aquareegia]

stop asking questions you know the answer for mr token 🙄

[kitten4sannie]

ngl this is one of the craziest pics i’ve ever seen of san

[sportsthoughts]

pregame rusty 💦 - 4/4/24

[neil-gaiman]

I'm sorry Neil, although I love your writing and agree with your opinions on most subjects I have to disagree with you on the writers' strike. No-one should have a more privileged life as a result of being clever and creative. I worked from the age of 15 to the age of 65 in low-paid jobs, taking 1 year off to go to drama school and 3 years off to get a fine art degree. I worked in terrible but necessary jobs, labouring, stacking boxes, unloading trucks, running errands, filing, going to work on a bicycle at all hours of the day and night on shift work in all kinds of weather. Even when I was a student I was still working in part-time cleani8ng jobs and even during periods of unemployment I worked in volunteer jobs for charities and social services.

According to Mensa I have an IQ of 160 and according to Plymouth University I have a BA hons in Fine Art but I cannot accept the idea that writers and other creative people should avoid normal jobs like driving an "Uber" or working in an office/shop/factory/construction site. To accept that idea would be to create a new aristocratic class when we should abolishing the old princes and aristocrats.

What we need, I feel sure, is a redistribution of labour so that everybody who can do so would spend some time each year in blue collar work and everybody who can would get higher education and a chance to make art of one sort or another.

The idea of doing other jobs to supplement writing or drawing shouldn't be seen as a terrible thing, a punishment or a suffering. Sharing the jobs around should be seen as normal.

I mean, I've done my half century of sweat labour and it didn't hurt me too much. I'm retired now and still making art of various kinds and I've never asked anyone to pay me for any art piece I've made. making art, writing, drawing etc. is the fun stuff which we get to do in exchange for the blue collar stuff which puts food on the table.

The worst pop song ever written was Sting/Dire Straits song "Money for Nothing" which ridicules the working class from a position of educational privilege.

So what's my question? My question is: What's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet? Sounds perfectly fine to me.

Nothing's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet. Writers and artists have been doing that since the dawn of time. Actors too.

But by the same token, there's nothing right about assuming that writing isn't a blue-collar job, or that writers and other people who make art can only make it for love and that thus they need other jobs to subsidise their craft.

I like living in a world in which the people who make the things that make the world worth living in get paid for their work. For me, that includes the people who make films and TV, books, art and music and comics.

Having spent a lot of time on film and TV sets, it's a blue-collar world on set, and everyone is working long and hard to make the shows you love. I'm never going to suggest that the riggers or the gaffers or the make-up team or the focus-pullers should drive ubers in order to have the privilege of being on the set and working there.

Or to put it another way, from the most blue-collar writer I ever knew...

[xnalux]

streamergf!vi hcs

part 1 part 3

warnings: none, fem!reader

pictures are from pinterest and they're not mine

streamergfvi: before your relationship was oficcially out she made sure to always post pics on her ig to hint she was clearly taken.

@/vistandsforviolence: sucks to be you ;)

@sevikunt: the girl is a paid actor

@vistansforviolence: go suck a dick

but after she actually announced her relationship to her community she made sure to floods her socials with pictures of you two together she took on past dates or just candind pictures of you (she totally made an album titled ''baby'' the first time she met you in person where she kept all the pictures she ever took of you). Everytime she snatch a picture of you, she usually does it when you are in the worst conditions ever, and you ask her to delete it she just pouts at you.

''but you look so cute baby''

In the end she never deletes the picture.

streamergfvi: who plays on streams every indie games you recommend to her. Her followers are sick of it because she always ends up never sticking to her streaming schedule.

''All right guys, i know we were supposed to play resident evil tonight but...''

and the chat goes wild

@/piltegoth: dude not again

@/chadjayce: you are such a loser for pussy is embarassing

@/Ekk0: weakest butch on the internet tbh

streamergfvi: who when she is not streaming she's probably lost tinkering with some gadget or tech. you find her, more often tha not, in her room cross legged on the floor, hands stained with grease and a look of intense focus on her face that's utterly adorable. She doesn’t ever notice you till you stand right in front of her frame hovering over a half opened computer (yes she totally works on the floor).

''babe?''

she raises her head and her eyes totally brighten seeing you in front of her

''baby you're earlier you were supposed to be here at...''

she takes a look at the her wrist clock face (she wears a clock, it's hot) realising you are definitely not early and she totally lost track of time again.

''shit i'm sorry, the little shit was acting up again and…i'll quickly get ready for our date...''

she ramble getting up and you totally don't give a shit that she is late because her hands are covered in grease, and her muscles are in full view, little droplets of sweat glistening her skin, you thanks whoever invented tank top.

she shuts up only when you surprise her with a kiss, her hands comiung up to grab your waist as she pulls you closer to kiss you back.

''what was that for?''

she smirks at you when you pull away a little breathless. your arms around her neck.

''you look hot''

you just smile at her

''oh you think i'm hot all sweaty and covered in grease?’'

she teases you pulling you closer to her by your waist, one of her hand coming up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear.

''you are gonna get my hair all greasy''

you giggle trying to get out of her grip. It usually ends up with her throwig you on her bed tickling you as you try to block her hands.

''just wait till i wash my hands''

streamergfvi: who has undiagnosed adhd and sometimes when you sleep over she wakes you up in the middle of the night still high on one too many energy drinks because she played a new game during her stream and literally can't wait till morning to show it to you. the only light in the room the one coming from her computer still on on her desk even tho she turned off her stream half an hour ago.

''baby are u asleep?''

You blink the sleep from your eyes and look at her, the picture of confusion and endearment. "What?"

"You've gotta see this! It's like someone took everything I love about games and put it into one amazing package!" she continues, her words tumbling over each other like a rock slide

''love it's 3am''

she gently grabs your wrist to pull you from the sweet cocoon of her bed

"I know pretty, but I just beat the first boss and I can't wait for you to see it!''

you end up cuddled in her lap on her gaming chair as she dives into the game rambling about all the cool stuffs you can do.

streamergfvi: who whenever she's got a new game that allows character customization makes sure to create a second one that looks like you. And it doesn't matter if she is on stream and her chat nags her to hurry the fuck up and just play the fucking game.

@/piltiesniperc: it's been 20 minutes

@/getjinxed: dude it literally looks just like her wtf

@/vistandsforvirgin: start the fucking game and stop being so gay

''just... almost done the lips are bugging me''

streamergfvi: who lets you put all kinds of stickers on her gaming set up and bought matching joystick and matching keychains and matching t-shirt. She literally loves matching shit.

streamergfvi: who thinks it's a good idea to let you cut her hair on stream. you stand there while she waves a pair of cooking scissors in front of the camera because ''scissors are scissors, they are gonna work just fine''.

''hello guys, today my pretty girlfriend is gonna cut my hair''

that's how you end up improvising yourself as an hair-stylist, almost poking one of her eyes out in the process because she can't sit still.

@/piltiesniperc: this is not what a meant when i said i liked lesbians scissoring

@/Ekk0: this is priceless

@/viktorious: omg i love when lesbians:

vi looks at herself in the camera moving her face from side to side, you definitely cut them shorter than expected and it's clear the haircut is uneven.

@/getjinxed: shit you look like a wet racoon, i need to see this irl

@/sevikunt: dumbest butch on the internet

as powder storms in vi room your eyes lingers on vi face and you just ask yourself how is it possible she looks even hotter than before.

''a wet racoon?''

vi asks offendend turning her gaming chair towards powder, who get closer to vi’s face with a little bounce in her walk and flashes her with her phone camera

''omg i need to show vander, you look ridicolous''

vi pouts turning to you

''do I really look like a wet racoon?''

and you can't help but giggle as you pull her from the back of her neck in a little kiss before whispering something in her ear, something that makes her cheeks flush and her lips curl upwards in a little smirks as she get up from her seat lifting you by your waist to get the both of you out of frame. The sounds of kisses and gigglies filling the room as powder quickly get in front of the camera.

''disgusting''

powder groan as she turn off the stream and sprint out of vi's room.

streamergfvi: who comes up with the most random questions. one minute, she'll ask about the plot of a game you’ve played a hundred times; the next, she'll muse on the theoretical physics of a game's universe. Her curiosity knows no bounds, and she's not afraid to dive deep into the rabbit hole of "what ifs" and "but whys" that often lead to the most entertaining conversations.

"Hey babe, do you think aliens would be into streaming games? What do you think their internet setup would look like?"

"If I started a podcast about the history of pencils, would you be my first listener?"

"What would happen if we tried to stream underwater?''

"Do you think I can teach myself to play the guitar while I'm streaming? It'll be fine, I've watched like three YouTube tutorials already."

''would you still love me if i had a third boob in the middle of my forehead?''

and the list could go on forever

streamergfvi: who hates being sick because she needs to stay put and just rest and she hates that but she kinda likes having you as her personal nurse. she wraps you both in a burrito of blankets, her hot skin flushing against yours as she tries to warm up her hands under your shirt.

''I'm gonna die''

she groans in the crook of your neck, her voice gruff due to her aching throat. you pepper small kisses over her head holding her close.

''your temperature is 37.7 baby, you are not gonna die''

you giggle endeared by your girlfriend anticts. she rases her head from your neck and look you dead serious in the eyes.

''i think i'm having auditory hallucinations''

she says and you know she is gonna say something stupid but you can't help yourself from asking anyway

''oh yeah? and what are they telling you?''

she smile playful at you, her hair disheveled and her cheeks flushed because of her fever

''that my only chance of surviving this is hide myself between your tits''

and she tucks her head under your shirt as you burst in a fit of giggles.

streamergfvi: who when you are the one sick drops everything she is doing to come to your house. A bag fulls of medicines and your favorites things which include your fav hoodie of hers because she knows it gives you comfort to wear it. she makes sure you are wrapped in as many blankets as she can finds before going to cook you soup and ends up spoon-feeding you while you watch the office.

''just another one pretty, you are doing so good''

she peppers your face with kissed even tho you remind her she is gonna get sick too

''i don't care, just pass all your sickness to me so you can get well''

and brush your teeth after you've thrown up before drawing you a bath and gently massages you shoulders.

streamergfvi: who’s love language is physical touch. And it's not just about the typical cuddling and kissing.

For her, it's about the little things that often go unnoticed, the constant reassurances of presence and connection.

when she's in the middle of a gaming marathon and you are sitting next to her, her love manifests in a gentle head pat, a playful nudge.

the way she always plays with your hair while you're watching a movie, or the constant need to have some part of her body touching yours while you both lay in bed.

And oh, the way she holds you. It's like she's trying to contain a tornado in her arms, strong, yet gentle.

Her love is the way she squeezes your hand tightly during a suspenseful moment in a game stream, transferring her excitement directly to you.

It's the gentle touch of her fingers tracing patterns on your skin when she's lost in thought, or the firm grip of her hand on your thigh when she's trying to focus and needs you as her grounding force.

It's the subtle brush of her hand against your leg while you sit side by side, the way she grabs yours during a particularly intense plot twist in your favorite show, and the warm pressure of her fingers on your back as she guides you through a crowded room. It's the way she kisses you goodbye, like she's trying to leave a piece of herself behind to keep you company until she returns.

Her love is a bit like her streaming setup, a little messy, a bit haphazard but genuine and raw and you wouldn't have it any other way.

an: I had so much fun writing this so let me know if you would like a part 3. Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to read and interact with the part one, i got surprised by all the attention it got <3

I took inspiration from this beautiful art piece for the hair-cut part so credits to @ClaraDeArte on twitter

[maiamore]

STAR-STRUCK

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ | W/C: 5k

Summary: You’re a fresh-faced production assistant for known action star Joel Miller. He’s not quite what you expected–but neither are you.

Tags: actor!joel x production assist reader, action film set, no use of y/n, rough/dom Joel, use of the word ‘kid’, mirror sex, rough sex, unprotected pinv, mentions of injuries & violence, Joel does his own stunts, public sex, bdj (big-dicked-Joel), Joel is not nice in this fic, more untagged read at your own discretion A/N: oof this a long one. also! i swear i've seen something similar relating to the mandalorian reference. if anyone knows the fic, pleaaaase let me know

READER’S TATT/PIERCINGS-SPO

This wasn’t what you’d imagined your life to look like. 

For the majority of your adult life, you’d clung to a glittering, idealistic vision of your future. You’d blame it on those countless movie marathons with your dad–the late nights, the worn-out couch and the satisfying click of the DVD player setting the stage for your ambitions. You’d dreamed of being a part of the magic. The glitz, the glamour, the art of it all. 

Directors like Ridley Scott, Martin Scorsese, John McTiernan captured your adolescent heart, fanning the flames of your Hollywood dreams.

You knew coming into this that it was going to be far from easy. God knows you’d paid your dues living in NYC after having moved from your small town–sharing a tiny shoebox of an apartment with three others, taking multiple part-time gigs, hustling to finally land a Production Assistant (PA) role.

And now here you were. Accommodations comped, flown to Atlanta for the shoot of some action movie you weren’t even allowed to know the title of thanks to the NDA you’d signed.

It was suspenseful, sure, but not in the sexy, thrilling way you’d imagined. More like in the “what fresh hell did I sign up for” sort of way.

“So you’ll be handling scheduling, coordinating, and helping the stylists. And making sure his overall well-being is met.”

You shuffled behind Jonah, the PA you were supposedly replacing. It was nearly overwhelming. Already built streets, custom housings, all wrapped up in a larger than life sound stage. Everyone was in their own world, working on their own tasks.

Normal people might have felt small and unseen. But you? You were still star-struck. You could be a part of something so much bigger than you, and that thought excited you. 

“7am every morning. You’ll need to be on standby to help Joel with everything he needs. So here’s the schedule.” 

More papers were being shoved to you, your arms slowly vanishing beneath an ever-growing stack. You scanned it, eyes twitching in dread. 

Every fifteen damned minutes had its own designation. Was this a movie or a military operation?

“Right! Got that. So…who exactly am I…” You squint at the bolded text on freshly printed paper, still warm to touch. “Wiping sweat at 16:45…for?”

Jonah halts mid-strut, turning back to you like you’d just insulted his entire bloodline. “What…do you mean? You don’t know who you’re working for?”

“I do.” You shoot back defensively. “Well–okay. No. Not really. I was given an NDA, so I’m–”

“It was a yes or no question, hun.”

Suddenly, you were grateful to J-hole leaving. Not so much of replacing his long ass list of endless tasks, though. 

He stops before the stylist’s station, gesturing to a cluttered board, displaying headshots and costume references for your apparent “boss.” As you step closer, your breath catches in your throat.

No way. No fucking way. 

“Joel fucking Miller?”

Your fingers, almost acting on their own, plucked one of the profile shots from the board. Joel’s broad frame was practically sculpted.  His Special Forces uniform taut over his muscles, probably for the character he was playing. Another close-up featured his face smudged with faux grime and fake injuries, his expression hardened and grim. 

And then…there were the less clothed test shots. Your gaze betrayed you, dipping to the dark trail of neatly trimmed curls disappearing beneath his belt.

Your head snapped up so fast it was a miracle you didn’t pull a muscle, as though the sheer force of willpower could exorcise the horny demon possessing you.

Jonah grins at your obvious surprise. Sighing dreamily at the profile shots of him, side views and costume shots.“Yep. Now. It isn’t going to be a problem with you now is it? We had to fire the old girl cuz’ she attempted to–nevermind. Don’t wanna get into that. It was a whole debacle. You can look it up in the files under the Miller versus Nancy lawsuit.”

You glanced at Jonah, confusion knitting your brow before returning the photo to the desk. Honestly? You probably wouldn’t have blamed this Nancy. Joel had been the blueprint for your sexual awakening. 

As fucked as it was. Considering he was closer in age to your dad than your own.

Watching him star in films by the greats back in high school had left you fantasizing, his smoldering intensity seared into your brain. God. You were going to need the entire night to mentally prepare for this.

“You tellin’ that story again?” The voice behind you sent a shiver up your spine–it was the kind of voice that wrapped around you like a thick yarned blanket on a cold night. And the kind of voice you fantasized about when you were grinding against your pillow.

You froze, every damned nerve on high alert. Turning slowly.

Joel Miller stands there. Resurrected from the photos itself.

He was dressed like he’d just walked off a lazy Sunday pickup game. Grey athletic shorts that hung low on his hips, revealing sturdy, hairy legs that somehow made him seem even more rugged. A black t-shirt clung to his frame, dampened at the collar with sweat. Navy cap sitting snug on his head.  

You couldn’t stop yourself from shamelessly dragging your eyes from the damp curls peeking out at the nape of his neck to his thighs. 

He scratches his stubbled jaw, his eyes sweeping the room before landing on you. They paused, and you realized–a little too late–that he’d caught you gawking.

Joel nudges his head towards you. “This her?”

Jonah nods, handing Joel a call sheet. “All new and sparkly.”

He looks you over–not in a predatory way, but like he was cataloging every detail. Dark and steady. And it lands on your shirt. For a split second his brows lifted, just barely.

“You watch that one?” 

Your brain stutters and you look down, realizing you’d stupidly worn your Mandalorian graphic tee. His face–or well, Din Djarin's helmeted face, was plastered across your chest along with the iconic Star Wars logo.

“Oh! Um. yeah,” you stammer, tugging the hem of the cotton as if the ink would magically disappear. 

Great. You meet the man you had dozens of posters of and you were stuttering like a fucking idiot.

“Big fan. Of the show. And, um, the movies. And, you know, your–” Joel holds up a palm, silencing your rambling. “Right.” He sounded amused, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “...‘preciate it.”

Joel never liked change. It was ironic, given his line of work. An actor, in its nature, had him slipping into new roles and personas on a constant basis. But no matter how many characters he played, he'd preferred the familiarity of a constant crew. 

So the news that Jonah was leaving and that his replacement was a fresh out of film school rookie had Joel grumbling for days.

Then he saw you.

Maybe it was the way you looked at him, like you were seconds away from fainting. Or maybe it was the shirt. That damn shirt.

You clearly hadn’t gotten the memo about dressing for long hours on set. Instead of the usual hoodie and less than glamorous foam sneakers combo, you were rocking a cropped baby tee stretched taut across your chest. 

His gaze dipped, almost involuntarily, taking in the rest of you. The way your bootcut jeans sat low and snug on your hips—to the bunch of keys and a juicy grape chapstick hung on a carabiner attached to your belt loop. 

When you shifted nervously, the movement sent a glint of light flickering from your stomach. A silver charm, shaped like a star, dangled from your belly button. He caught himself mid-thought, forcing his eyes back to your face, but the damage was done.

You weren’t as innocent as you looked. He’d figured out that much. 

Your fuck-ups hadn’t gotten you fired. Not yet, at least. Somehow, you were still here. Holding onto your job by a thread.

It still felt surreal, working for Joel Miller. You’d spent years watching this man on screen. All his works & press interviews. It seemed pretty fucking unreal to think that you now had his name saved to your phone like no big deal.

Given you weren’t able to tell anyone about it, though the purple vibrator that sat in your bedside drawer was pretty much the only thing that knew his name by now.

In the weeks that followed, you’d fallen into a rhythm with him. There were rules–unspoken ones. You didn’t ask too many questions, didn’t hover too close, and didn’t take it personally when he barked orders or dismissed you with a grunt. Joel wasn’t an easy man to work for.

What was even worse, was that in Joel's eyes, you were probably the least sexual entity to have ever existed. It stung, especially when you considered how much of your mind he occupied.

“Give me a…second. Dunno how these things work.”

You’d shifted uncomfortably, dropping to your knees to Joel’s horror. You sat on your thighs with a huff. Attempting to gather the hem of Joel’s pants to tuck into the army garters.

 “Christ. You don’t hafta…” Joel’s throat tightened as he fought the sudden, unwelcome heat pooling low in his gut.

“Huh?”

It was distracting, the sight of you so close. On your fuckin’ knees no less. Joel tugs around his belt. He snaps his fingers to catch your attention and you look up at him, with wide eyes. 

His thumbs twisting around the two metal hooks of the thin garter until it connects. “Just hook em’ together, kid.” 

You nodded at his words. Finally managing to neatly tuck it into his boots. 

Though from his vantage point, something else catches his eye–a small mark etched into your skin. Black ink at the nape of your neck, a star, delicate like the charm that hung from your belly button. 

“Ya got a thing for stars?” 

You blinked a few times before the words finally registered. Was he really starting a conversation when you were on the ground like this? You notice the slight nudge of his head towards your left. 

Instinctively, you cupped around the back of your neck. “Oh..yeah. I mean…it’s pretty and all.” You had to admit, Joel’s childlike curiosity over the ink on your body all of a sudden caught you off guard. 

He raises a brow at your admission. “What’s the point of puttin’ it at a place you can’t see. Seems pretty pointless.” 

“Didn’t put it there for me to see.” You say with a shrug. 

Joel’s jaw ticks when he realises the insinuation behind your words. He drags his hand down his face, opting to finally keep his mouth shut when the images conjured in his mind couldn’t be held back anymore. 

You didn’t quite notice his distress till you looked up after the lengthy silence that settled. 

The imperceptible twitch in his crotch area catches your attention. Your lips parted to stifle a gasp of surprise. 

Was he— “Jus’ get the hell up, kid.”

The respectable thing to do was to go on about his job. It was humiliating enough that you’d caught him in a painfully embarrassing position. 

But Joel Miller learned two new things about himself.

First, he didn’t quite mind the soft, lingering scent of strawberries and vanilla you seemed to carry. A quiet, comforting sweetness that seemed to cling to the air whenever you were near.

The second? Well, the second was far more troublesome. 

The thoughts that plagued him at night when he was fucking his fist, or someone else for that matter. It didn’t help that he was aware of such vivid and intimate details of you. It fucked with his head how desperately he wanted to draw pleasure out of you and stain that pretty little dainty star you had on your belly with ropes of his cum. 

The culmination of it all was taxing. But somehow? He managed to keep those thoughts at bay.

When the director finally called cut for the day, Joel stepped off set, muscles aching and shirt damp with sweat. He scans the area out of habit. 

Jonah would’ve been there by now–towel, water & phone in hand, ready for the usual barrage of calls and texts he needed to deal with.

Instead, it was you. 

Joel exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face as the realization hit him again. Right. Jonah was gone.

“You don’t have to look like the world’s ended, Joel.” 

He doesn’t answer you, not at first. 

“It’s not like I’m going to tell people that you—“

Joel seats himself in his chair loudly. A silent warning for you to not go there. He lets out a long, drawn out exhale. Folding his arms tightly. “Kid. Don’t know whatcha think you saw–”

That again. Kid. Was that how he saw you? You had half the mind to admit what the idea of it did to you—the idea that he might’ve gotten hard at the thought of you. 

“Hate that I even have to ask.” You begin, not letting him finish his thought. “You realize I’m not.” You were dabbing a little harder now, tossing out the used makeup wipes in the trash beside you. 

“Y’are when I’ve got a decade over ya.” He says simply. Wincing at your harsh gestures. “Don’t need the complications.” He pushes your hand away, his deep brown eyes stayed locked on you, searching, warning. 

“Leave well enough alone, got that?”

The following weeks on set proved to be grueling, even by Joel’s standards. His reputation preceded him. A stubborn, self-reliant actor who insisted on doing his own stunts. For the studio, it was a nightmare. Higher insurance premiums, a ballooning budget, and his manager losing sleep over the what-ifs. 

For Joel, it was just how he’d always worked.

But his body wasn’t what it used to be. He could feel the aftermath of his aching limbs with every roll, leap, and landing. By the end of each day, he was a drained man.

The tension on set that evening was suffocating, the kind that made every sound sharper, every movement feel urgent. 

Joel’s stunt wasn’t supposed to go wrong. It rarely did. But today was different. 

You’d seen the way his jaw tightened with every take, the exhaustion etched into the lines of his face. Monitoring him from the sidelines when the cameras were still rolling. 

Then it happened.

A sickening crunch, the unmistakable sound of something gone wrong. Joel hit the ground hard, and the set erupted in chaos. The director’s voice echoed through the sound stage, “Cut! Jesus. Check on Joel. Now!” as the crew scrambled toward him.

You froze, the towel and water bottle in your hands suddenly feeling useless. Your feet moved on instinct, but the crowd around Joel was essentially a wall. Blocking you out. 

You couldn’t get through.

“Back off. M’fine.” Joel’s voice cuts through the commotion, frustration dripping from every word. He swatted away helping hands, gaze darting through the crowd. His face twisted in anger, not from pain but from the lack of order.

“Where the hell is she?” he grumbled. 

You hesitated, your stomach knotting. His eyes finally locked onto you, and his expression darkened. “You. Get over here.”

The weight of his command pulled you forward, even as your gut screamed to stay back, letting someone more qualified deal with it.  You shuffled behind him as you’d maneuvered out of the crowd and back into his trailer. Eyes widening at the sight of blood seeping through a tear in his shirt.

“Joel, I–…shouldn’t we call–”

“Don’t need someone else,” he interrupted, his tone biting but strained. “Just. I’ll tell ya what to do. Kits in the left drawer.”

“Okay,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice steady, wracking your brain for memories of those first aid videos you’d seen on YouTube. Film school did not prep you for this. 

As you grabbed the first aid kit, you watched Joel slump against the trailer walls. You stood there, awkwardly, watching the scarlet blossom against his abdomen.

He looks at you for a moment before exhaling. “Y’know, you can ask n’ not jus’ stand there like a mute, darlin’.”

The witty remark dies in your throat when he yanks his shirt off. Effectively shutting your brain down entirely. You stare down at his body in its’ full glory. Damp with sweat and streaked with dirt. Blood smeared in jagged trails down his arm to his abdomen, mingling with grime from the fall. Joel pulls out the antiseptic wipes from the first aid kit, handing it to you.

“Shit, Joel. That looks fucking bad.” You hissed out, as though you were the one with a darkened gash on your midriff when you attempted to wipe the first streak off.

“Why…” Fuck. Your voice was cracking. “Why didn’t you just let someone else help you?”

He huffed, his dark eyes flicking to yours for a moment in amusement before looking away. “Ain’t worth makin’ a scene over somethin’ small.”

“This isn’t small, Joel,” you protested, frowning as you uncovered a deeper gash on his side. “You should’ve let the medics handle it.”

“Don’t need all that fuss.” His tone was clipped, defensive. “Been doin’ my own stunts for years. Ain’t stoppin’ now ‘cause of a scratch.”

“This isn’t a scratch.”

Joel’s gaze flicked to yours again, a flash of something unreadable in his expression. “Look, I get it, alright? But I don’t need everyone actin’ like I’m fallin’ apart. I’m fine.”

He knew deep down that his ego was far too big to admit that he actually needed help. 

“Stubborn,” you murmured under your breath, shaking your head as you pressed a clean pad against the wound.

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.”

Joel’s patience was paper thin, but he bit back whatever comment was forming on his tongue. “Enough of that. Just…tie it up” He sighs, strained, handing you a roll.

You nodded, fumbling with the bandage as your heart pounded in your ears. The wound was deeper than you’d thought now that it was clean, and the sight of it made your stomach churn.

“C’mon, darlin’. Ain’t got all day.”

You secured the bandage, tying it off with a bunny-eared bow before sitting back on your heels. Fingertips drumming on your knees, seemingly proud of yourself. 

Joel glanced down, his brows furrowing as he took in your work. “What the hell is that?”

“What?” you say defensively. “You told me to tie it.”

“Looks like ya wrapped a damn present,” he muttered. 

“Fine, I’ll redo it–”

“Don’t bother.” He caught your hands before you could move, holding them in place. “It’ll hold.”

The silence that followed proved to further intensify the air between the two of you. His grip on your wrist was firm but not harsh, his eyes locked on yours. You didn’t dare to move. 

The curve of his nose grazed your cheeks, the faintest touch sent a shiver down your spine, but he had enough sense to move away. 

You however, didn’t think, didn’t hesitate when you leaned in, capturing his lips in a quick, tentative kiss.

It seemed to have caught the both of you off guard.

Joel froze, the kiss barely lasting a second before he pulls back, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he’d tell you off.

But instead, he leans forward. Kissing you harder, deeper. A palm slips to the back of your neck to anchor you in place.

With nowhere else to put your hands, you placed them on his thighs, gripping them tightly.

The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was desperate. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin. His other hand gripped your waist, drags you closer until your knees pressed against the side of his hips.

But just as quickly as it started, Joel stops. He pulls back with a bated breath. His hands slip from where he held your neck. “Shit,” he mutters, his jaw clenching as he looks away. “Shit.”

You blinked, your heart racing as you tried to catch up. Trying not to let the disappointment show in your voice. “Joel–”

“Stop. I shouldn’t have.” The curtness in his tone startled you. But you frowned. Trailing behind him as he gets up. 

“Well you did.” You blocked his path towards the door of his trailer. Eyes filled with a burning persistence of him once again denying you. 

“Don’t push it, kid.”

You’d practically stepped up to him confrontationally. “—Or better yet, you gonna tell me that I imagined it?”

“You can’t do all of that and then just back off.”

It frustrated you to no end when he stonewalled you like this. Like you were some irrational kid who couldn’t read between the lines.

When Joel finally does speak, he merely says your name. With a finality you couldn’t quite refute. You bite the inside of your cheeks. Feeling humiliated at being shot down when you’d thrown yourself onto someone like this.

“Fucking coward.”

This time, you didn’t mumble. 

Joel visibly grimaces at that. You feel his hand grip painfully around your wrist, stopping you from leaving the trailer.

You let out a choked gasp when his hands shoot out to grip around your throat before you could even react. Forcing you backwards at every step. Instinctively, you grab around his wrists to loosen his grip. 

“Hey!” 

He leans down to your level, lips grazing against your ears in a deep whisper. “Fuckin’ coward, huh?”  You'd pushed all the right buttons. He'd held back for so damned long and he didn't have it in him to hold back. Not after you'd run your mouth.

You let out a shaky exhale. Teeth grit painfully. You should’ve felt scared. Horrified, really. But the tenderness in his hold makes you feel conflicted about what you should’ve felt. 

Joel’s grip held you firm. Tipping your head up. “Y’want me to fuck you that bad?”

A soft whimper leaves your lips when his back presses against you. The hardness rubbed up against your core. You shudder at the sensation, nodding weakly. 

His rough palms circle around your waist, turning you over the dressing table until your pelvis sat flush against it. The grip around your throat swiftly turns to a vice grip around your jaw. 

He tugs at your jaw. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Ugh—yes.…need you..tofuckme.” You manage through gritted teeth. It irked you to say it, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t have let up.

Joel tugs you to look up into your own reflection. Your gaze immediately sours, attempting to look away. 

“C’mon now. S’a pretty sight.” He tuts. His other palm drags the fabric of your top up harshly, pulling it up along with your bra. Your tits spilling at the notion. A gasp slips from your lips. 

“Joel!” Your palms tightens into fists on the table at the obscene sight. 

So much for someone who didn’t want to give in.

It doesn’t faze Joel, merely letting out a low whistle. Kneading them in his palms. “Perfect fuckin’ tits.”

He presses a kiss down the sides of your neck. Twisting around your nipples till they hardened between his fingers. You let out a pathetic whine at the sensation. Holding his arms firmly, you squirm as he nips your shoulder. 

“Could you just—“ Your protests don't stop him in the slightest. Nudging your head a little to give him room. He takes it as a sign to bite down on your neck, bruising you with hickeys all over. 

Joel seems to catch your nervous flickers towards the doors. He shifts your hair over one side of your shoulder. Thumbing over the ink on the nape of your neck. You hear the sound of the zipper, briefly catching sight of him shucking his pants down. He winces slightly at the dull pain shooting across his abdomen, but the desperation of needing you was far greater than the pain.

Somehow, the idea of not being able to see it made it so much worse. And as though he reads your mind, he presses his jaw against the side of your head. “Relax.” The tenderness in his tone through the roughness does manage to soothe your nerves. You nod slowly.

Your hips jolt as the cold air hits your body when Joel dips a finger under the waistband of your sweats. He teasingly brushes his fingers lightly against your skin before swiftly tugging them down to your thighs along with the flimsy cotton panties you had on. “A little warning would help.” You bite back, finally losing patience at his tactless gestures. 

Joel meets your gaze through the mirror. A lopsided smirk quirking up his lips. “Right. My bad.” You could feel the disingenuity in his tone before he taps the length of his cock against your lower back. The gesture almost mocking.

A shudder runs down your spine. He was big, unlike anything you’ve experienced before. 

He hikes your hip backwards and flush against him. Your palms instinctively clutches around the edge of the table. Joel takes his time, sliding his hard cock between the softness of your thighs. The sensation nearly sends you doubling over. Watching the weeping tip poke through in the reflection, slightly smearing his precum on your clit.

You squeeze your legs together subconsciously, earning a wince from him. He was certain he could come just from fucking your thighs like this. The pace he took now bordered on torturous. Teasing you with everything but giving you nothing. 

You took it upon yourself to stretch your hands between your thighs in an attempt to notch him in you. You were aching. Badly.

Joel lets out a grunt of disapproval, yanking your wrist to pin it behind your back. Leaving you to steady your body weight onto your other hand. “Eager little thing. Daddy ain’t ever teachya patience?”

His snark burned in your cheeks. It was a futile effort. He could see every single expression you were making from your reflection and he fucking thrived on it. Joel takes a hold of his cock, lining it up against your soaked cunt, he slowly drags your slick over his length. You were soaking him before he even started.

Your head dips, clinging onto the fleeting pleasure every time the tip of his cock bumped against your clit. 

“Joel–please just fuck me...”

So he does.

Before you could even catch your breath, he snaps his hips into you. “Deep breath f’me, sweetheart.” If not for his grip around your wrist, you would’ve probably face planted into the dresser. 

The sting from the intrusion of his thickness had your cunt tightening with every move he makes, squeezing the absolute life out of his dick.

Your hair falls in front of your face as he mercilessly fucks you. You swore you could feel him almost grazing the entrance of your cervix. “T-Too..too fucking...big.”

Joel tips his head at the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock, probably only halfway. He doesn’t say anything yet. Only humming at your whines. “I know baby.”

You look down shakily at where the both of you were connected, the lines between pain and pleasure blurring to the point you hadn’t registered the tears prickling the corner of your eyes. “Hurts…”

Joel seems to feel a tinge of empathy at the way you were struggling to take him, hiccuping through your whines. His gaze flickers to the way your pretty little face scrunched up, doing your fucking best like the good girl you were. A slight groan leaves his lips involuntarily.

All rationality be fucked.

His hand grips around your throat, forcing you to look up at the mirror. 

As humiliating as it was, you couldn’t help but feel increasingly turned on at the sight of his cock fucked into your dripping pussy in squelches. “See that? Takin’ me so ’fuckin’ well.” He sighs into your shoulder. 

The praise has you lifting your hips higher, on your tippy toes–forcing a deeper arch at your hips. With how slick your thighs were, you weren’t even sure yourself if you did come.

Nothing but the sounds of his pelvis snapping into your ass in rhythmic, hard slaps. He buries his head in the crook of your shoulder. And you hear him audibly grunt this time. Thrusting into you at a punishing pace. 

Joel could feel the all familiar tightening in his sack, he knew he was close. The sheer suction your soft, slick walls were providing him was nothing he’d ever felt before. He lets go of your throat, both palms gripped around your hips, painful enough to leave a mark. The table rattles under your combined weights and Joel’s frantic thrusts, products rolling and clattering onto the ground. He noses your cheeks, stubble rubbing against your pulse point. “Perfect fuckin’ pussy…” 

You offer a slight whimper at his words, meeting the intensity his thrusts weakly. You both still at the shuffle of footsteps approaching the trailer.

 The sharp knocks against the trailer door has the both of you whipping your head towards it. 

“Everything okay?”

Your heartbeat thuds in your ears loudly. The door wasn’t locked.

Joel doesn't answer, simply looking at you. Your expression twists in frustration. Mouthing the words ‘me?’. There wasn't time to deliberate. Your lips parts to speak, barely able to form coherent words. “Y..yeah. A-All good.” 

“Right…productions cutting it close. So if Joel’s oookaaay…”

You cursed internally at how persistent whoever behind the doors was. But you nearly see white when Joel fully slams into you. Deeper than before. You couldn’t control the sharp cry that leaves your lips, but it is soon muffled by Joel’s rough palms covering your mouth.

“M’fine. Give us ten.”

Your tears pool around his hand. Gripping onto his wrists when he continues to pound into you at a faster intensity. You were whining by the time the crewmate finally left. Joel pulls you against his chest. Audibly groaning into your ears now. “Fuck. M’close.” 

You nodded dumbly, not even sure just what at anymore. Shaky hands clinging onto him like a lifeline. With a final rut, his hips stutter, ropes of his cum painting the insides of your walls.

He held it there for a couple of seconds before pulling out. All messy and soaked with your arousal.

You let out a strained exhale at the feeling of loss as your pussy convulses around nothing, pearlescent liquid dripping from your reddened cunt. 

Joel sighs wantonly at the sight. With the state of you, he was briefly worried that he might’ve gone too hard. And then he sees it. Your smaller, manicured hands, pushing more of his dripping come into your folds. Yeah. Joel was fucked.

[be-my-sunrise]

Court-side Fever || z.cl

pairings: bf!chenle x fem!reader

genre: smut, minors pls dni

word count: 1,826

warnings: car sex, unprotected sex, pussy and thigh slapping, hair pulling, creampie, fingering, tit play. let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: happy new year's everyone! i hope you all enjoy your holiday :D i haven't posted in a while and i apologize for not being active here😞 anyways, enjoy this chenle fic! watching him play basketball does things to me, so i decided to write about it lmao

special thanks to @onriyuview @notyourjaem @lovetaroandtaemin @jenoslutie for helping me out🩵 ily teehee :3

“Good game, dude. See you next week!”

Chenle daps Mark up and leaves the basketball court. After bidding his goodbyes to Haechan and Jeno as well, he jogs towards where you’re sitting and grabs his water bottle. 

“Babe, do you want to order food at home, or should we go to a drive-thru?” He asks before downing his water.

However, you barely heard what he said. You don’t usually come with him when he’s playing basketball with his friends, mainly because Chenle feels bad about having you wait hours for him. But you insisted on tagging along this time, and boy, you were glad you did. 

Seeing him play and watching his moves on the court after so long has you in a trance. You find yourself rubbing your thighs together subconsciously almost the entire time. It's clear that he does things to your body, and it's evident in the way your panties stick to your core.

Now that he’s standing before you, lust clouds your mind, and every inch of your body is fighting the urge to take him on this bench. He looks so ravishing, all sweaty like this, the sun behind him like a paid actor. 

The cast of warm golden light around him only emphasizes the droplets of sweat on his dewy skin, and it’s not doing much to help with your situation.

Chenle glances at you when he doesn't hear any response. He waves one hand in front of your face. “Baby?”

You blink your eyes a couple of times, waking yourself up from your daze. “Huh? Oh yeah, sure.” 

“Did you even hear what I just said?”

“Uhh… no?” You look away nervously, which makes him chuckle. “Should we just order in? You seem a bit tired.”

More like aroused, but he’s right, you are somewhat tired. Tired of squeezing your thighs together. You need him so badly that you can’t even think straight. Realizing that Chenle is waiting for your answer, you give him a nod as a response.

“Alright then, let’s go home!”

Chenle leans down to pick up his bag from the ground beside your feet, and you suck in a sharp breath when you catch a whiff of his scent. He smells so fucking good, and it's driving you insane.

You stand up abruptly, almost bumping into his head in the process. He grabs your arm before you could walk away and pulls you close. “Baby, why are you being weird today? Are you okay?”

One proper look at him is all it takes for you to crash your lips against his. You practically throw your body onto Chenle, making him yelp when his back hits the fence. The kiss catches him off guard, but he quickly snaps out of it.

“You're so fucking hot, baby. I need you so bad,” you say in between kisses and feel him smirk.

You bunch his shirt up in a fit of desperation, exposing his toned abs. Chenle quickly snatches your wrist away when he feels you tugging on the waistband of his shorts. 

“Slow down, baby,” he says after pulling away. “Let's continue this in the car, yeah?”

He chuckles when he sees your face light up. You're buzzing with excitement as you drag him to his car, quite literally shoving him inside and straddling him in a blink of an eye.

You connect your lips with his again while grinding your core against his bulge. Chenle pulls your hips down to make you feel his hardening member even more. You run your fingers through his damp hair, giving it a slight pull. 

The kiss gets messier as the two of you get more desperate. He pulls away to catch his breath and tilts his head to give you more access as you start to leave hickeys across his neck. A small moan escapes his lips when you lick a stripe across his salty skin and blow cool air on the fresh red marks.

“If I had known you’d be like this, I would’ve taken you with me a long time ago,” he says breathlessly.

“I feel the same way, baby. I forgot how hot you look when you’re playing basketball,” you giggle. “At least we know better now.”

Chenle lays you down on the seat before pulling your pants down along with your panties in one swift motion. He smirks at the sight of your leaking core. 

“Fuck, baby. You must really like watching me play, hm? You soaked through your panties,” he says as he dangles your panties next to his face. 

You bite down on your lower lip when drags his finger along your slit, hips twitching as he lands a light slap on your clit. He pushes his pants down with one hand while rubbing your sensitive bud with the other. 

You feel a shiver down your spine when Chenle taps his cock on your clit, letting out a moan as he spreads your arousal across your pussy. You wait for him to push it in, but he continues to rub his cock against your slit and you start getting impatient. 

“You're so fucking wet I could just slip in easily,” he moans, admiring the mess he's making.

“Stop teasing and put it in then!” 

You snap and roll your eyes at Chenle, which makes him raise an eyebrow at your sudden change of attitude. 

“It’s cute that you think you can talk to me like that,” he scoffs. Chenle grips your thigh before landing a slap on it, making you flinch.

“You should be grateful that I’m hard as fuck right now, otherwise I would leave you untouched,” he says as he pulls you up by your arm. “On your knees.”

You quickly adjust your position, standing on your knees and placing your hands on the backrest. You let out a yelp when he pulls your head back by your hair, feeling his hot breath on your ear. 

“I've been spoiling you too much, and now you’re giving me attitude.”

You moan as he slowly rubs your clit. “Chenle, please.”

“Please what baby?” He teases while nibbling on your ear.

You try to form words but you can’t think straight. Your pussy is throbbing and the feeling of his hands on you makes you dizzy.

“Please… I need you,” you whine. Chenle lets out a condescending laugh seeing you push your ass back, grinding against his cock. 

“You can do better than that,” he says before slapping your ass.

“Fuck! Please, baby, I need you so bad. Need your cock inside me now, please.”

A gasp escapes your lips as Chenle pushes his cock all the way inside you, letting you adjust to his size for a moment as he leaves kisses on your neck. He pulls his cock out almost entirely, leaving just the tip before pushing himself back in all the way. 

His thrusts are deep and rough, your breath getting caught in your throat each time his hips slam against yours.

���You feel so good, baby,” he whispers before pulling on your hair once more. “Always so tight and wet.”

“O-only for you,” your voice trembles, barely managing to say anything.

He chuckles, “Is that so? Such a good girl.” 

Chenle slips both hands underneath your shirt, giving your tits a nice grip before pulling down your bra. He tugs on your nipples and rolls them between his fingers, making you throw your head back to rest on his shoulder as he continues thrusting relentlessly.

The car shakes with each thrust, and only the sounds of skin slapping and your broken moans can be heard. The grip you have on the seat tightens as Chenle angles his hips to push his cock even deeper, earning a loud moan from you.

Your thighs tremble as he hits your sweet spot repeatedly. He places one hand on the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss, and you moan into the kiss when you feel his fingers sneak their way onto your clit. 

“Baby, I'm-”

“Close? I know, baby. You keep clenching around me,” he chuckles. He picks up the pace and rubs your clit faster. “Cum for me, baby. Cream all over my cock.”

Your jaw goes slack as the pleasure overwhelms you. The way you're squeezing his cock makes him dizzy. Chenle lets out a groan, his thrusts getting sloppier as he reaches his climax. 

He pushes his cock all the way inside you as he cums, and you grind your hips against his to help him ride out his high. He presses a kiss on your temple before pulling out of your warmth.

You gasp as he cups your pussy and flicks his fingers against your slit with a quick motion, making his cum drip onto the leather seat. He tugs on your shirt as a signal for you to take it off. 

“Lay down on your back for me, baby,” he says with a low tone.

You lay back down on the seat and he spreads your legs wide. Chenle pulls your bra down to expose your hardened nipples and leans over to latch his lips around one of them. 

He shoves his fingers inside your pussy as he flicks his tongue on your nipple and you suck in a sharp breath, back arching from the pleasure. 

“Fuck, baby. Feels so good,” you moan. 

You place your hand on his head to feel him even closer as he sucks on your nipple, making you whimper. You're still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so it doesn't take long until you feel the familiar knot again.

“Oh, god. I'm gonna cum again, baby.”

Chenle unlatches his lips from your nipple and straightens his back, pushing his fingers all the way inside before curling them. The intensity of his fingers has you crying out in pleasure as you reach your second climax, legs convulsing as he pulls his fingers out and starts rubbing your clit quickly. 

Your legs clamp around his arm, but he uses his other hand to spread them apart and hold them down. Chenle slaps your clit harshly after you come down from your high, making your hips twitch. 

He grips your tits using the hand that's still wet with your arousal, flicking the bud until your chest starts to tremble and you let out a shaky breath from the tingly sensation. 

He leans down to kiss you once more before tucking his cock back into his pants. You were about to get up and redress yourself, but Chenle stops you. You look at him confused.

“You're staying like this until we get home, baby,” he says with a smirk on his face. 

He grabs one of your hands and places it on your core. Then, Chenle climbs into the driver's seat and adjusts his mirror so he can watch you play with yourself.  

“Just keep that pretty little pussy of yours wet for me.”

a/n: save me basketball player chenle😵‍💫🫠 thank you for reading<3 i hope you like it!

[theflagscene]

Think about how the Jack and Joker kiss was such a long time coming not just for fans, but for Yin and War as well.

Which is why I think they’re so snappy—not in a bad way, they’re protective of their show—with people complaining on Twitter. Consider, they worked together in 2020 during En of Love, where their own 4 episode story was the most popular out of all three story arcs. So popular in fact that fans wanted a more flushed out version of Mark and Vee’s story, but it’s not until two years later that they get to work together again, only they are playing the same characters, telling the same story, even saying the same same dialogue! Now, don’t get me wrong, Love Mechanics was a fair upgrade from the mini series. But after wanting to work together again for so long, they were just playing Mark and Vee again, how completely dull for them.

So they do what many Thai BL actors do, they go on tour together, at least that’s something. And damn if the mini heist YouTube video they make for it doesn’t do numbers! The fans want more of them, more of that! Hell they want more themselves, yet their—at the time—company wouldn’t give them roles. So screw it, they take a chance and don’t renew their contracts and become independent artists. That doesn’t always go well, and it’s a lot of hard work to get parts without a company trying to lock actors into years long contracts.

So they go full Saint and just decide to make what they wanna make on their own terms with their own money, Yin sold his damn car to help fund the series so they didn’t have to cave to corporate shilling of drinks and beauty products. It takes years to get a script hammered out, actors willing to take a chance working with them, editors, directors, all of it. And all of those people need to be paid, hell, they need to be paid!

But it’s here now, their real proper second series together, fresh and new after four—almost five—years! And what’s more, it’s doing great, amazing even. Now they have fancons in the work and tv interviews and magazines cover shoots (freaking Vogue Thailand!?), and so many companies reaching out wanting to invest in them. The management at Rookie Thailand is no doubt kicking themselves for not putting more faith in these men. They had the fans, they had the passion for the work and what’s more, they had each other. When you find that type of friendship, you fight for it, and that’s what they did to be able to make Jack & Joker. Yin and War put their blood, sweat and tears in their series, not to mention their money and reputations as well.

So when Jack and Joke finally kissed? Yeah, the chemistry was still there, was never not there. But those two, they had a point to prove and it was proven with that damn kiss.

Gifs snagged from @wanderlust-in-my-soul fantastic post—go reblog it—since after 25 minutes of scrolling it’s clear the episode gifs are too new to show up in the gif search engine lol.

[beefrobeefcal]

Colosseum Capers feat. Din Djarin & Dieter Bravo

Summary: Din is a virgin and Dieter teaches him some things.

Pairing: Dieter x Din x f!reader | Rating: 18+ MDNI | Word Count: 6,787

Content Warnings: couch sex, din is a virgin, dieter teaches din how to make thick in the warm, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, p in the v, cum touching, jerking off, bruised willy, busted wrist, gary has had it up to here, everyone is consenting gleefully, jerking off to a live show, cum play (ish), talk of cum, weed is smoked, mention of religious trauma, premature ejaculation YEEHAW!

Author's Notes: for my very own november prompt challenge THE GLANDOLORIAN of course being dropped right at the buzzer.

Thanks to @strang3lov3, @noxturnalnymph & @bitchesuntitled for their eyes, minds, thots and love - i would have let my utter defiance take over and not done this without your encouragement. Thanks also to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

You stood behind the ticket desk, supposed to be counting the float and getting ready for the evening’s show but instead you were bored out of your mind and sweating in your polyester toga. Once again, the owners decided to not fix the AC to cut costs, and the humidity plus the sweltering heat was giving you a horrible case of swamp ass and a foul mood.

Colosseum Capers (aka ‘Capers’) was a Medieval Times knock off, started in 1979 by two brothers who had a shitty idea fueled by a night out at a shitty bar. They had sold it to a corporate group in the late 80’s who had developed a mall on the plot next door and had changed hands many times over since. It was some real estate investment trust that was letting it run into the ground now. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills and got you up close and personal with B and C list celebrities, and free concessions, keeping your monthly grocery bill lower than average. That, and if you batted your lashes at Gary, the manager, you could get your gas paid for every now and then. 

There were a lot of perks in this dump, but the one thing that made Capers almost not worth it was the star - Dieter Bravo. He was a washed up 1990’s soap actor who hadn’t actually done anything of note since he showed up to the Emmys drunk, high, or both in 2003, then allegedly passed out backstage and pissed his pants. You have to say allegedly because at the time, Dieter had enough money to have a team that gave enough of a shit to scrub the media, stopping the release of the details. But now? Now he was ‘Marcus Acacius, Gladiator of Rome’ five to seven nights a week in a shitty dinner show theatre two blocks from the Las Vegas strip. No one gave a shit about him except those who recognized him from his days on The Young & The Restless. 

You couldn’t stand him. Despite how far he had fallen, it still wasn’t enough to knock his ego down; he was arrogant and obnoxious, slept with the majority of the female staff - and a few of the male staff, too. He’d tried to bed you once, his gravelly, sleep deprived, booze fueled voice cawing at you to come to his dressing room one evening. You’d rolled your eyes in disgust, never once being fooled by him, declining him just as rudely as he had offered. In response, from then on in, Dieter pretended you either didn’t exist or antagonized you, giving you orders or interfering if someone was speaking to you to let them know you were a ‘celibate bitch’, landing you with the nickname ‘CeeBee’.

The only good thing about Dieter was the one thing his drunk, out-of-shape ass needed to play gladiator - Din. When Dieter couldn’t take to the stage, Din stepped in. He took no credit and played Dieter playing a Gladiator well enough for only die-hard Dieter fans to notice and those seemed to be dwindling in numbers season by season. 

If Din had asked you to his dressing room (if he had one), nothing could have stopped you from going to it. He was everything Dieter was not. He was quiet, polite, sweet, sober, and while he looked like a younger, less bloated version of Dieter, you found him far more handsome and attractive. The only problem was that Din was never anything but polite in the most standoffish way to you and anyone else who he interacted with - no joke pulled a smile on his face, you had never heard him laugh once, and he was insanely private. Beyond his name and his age - which you had to suss out from the badly stored employment records - you knew nothing about him. 

Din Djarin, 36 years old, male was what you knew to be a fact. Great body, patience of a saint, likes plain soda water, potentially hung, gorgeous brown eyes, soft-looking brown hair were based solely on your observational skills. Everything else about him was a mystery. 

“Ceebee!”

You groaned outwardly and rolled your eyes when you heard Gary’s voice. It was too hot and you felt too gross to want to deal with his bullshit. 

“I know you heard me ‘cause I heard that attitude!”

Sucking in a deep breath, you stood up from leaning on the counter and yelled back. “What, Gary?!”

“Bravo. Get him. Need to know if we gotta call Din for tonight.”

“No, Gary, you do it! It’s too hot for me to deal with his bullshi-”

“CeeBee, goddamnit! Now!”

You could hear the final threads of Gary’s triple bypass fraying in his voice. You knew he hated Dieter more than you did and if he had the power, Dieter would have been fired years ago and Din would be the gladiator full time. And you knew that if you were hot, the overweight, balding 67-year-old Gary was feeling it worse, and despite what an aggravating human he could be, he was also the closest thing to a friend you had in this city. Today was not the day to give him a hard time. 

Huffing, you stepped out from behind the ticket counter and stomped down the ramp to the ‘Staff Only’ door, and pushed through. As soon as you opened the door, the acrid smell of weed from a bong hit you and you grimaced. You didn’t want to go any closer to his dressing room, so you called out, not attempting to hide your irritation.

“Bravo! Gary wants to know if you’re-”

“Ceebee! Baby! Come on in - don’t be shy!”, Dieter interrupted in a lazy, rough but loud voice.

“No. Gary wants to know if you’re g-”

“Fuck Gary and get in here. Not gonna pull anything!”, he barked, then sang out, “‘less you wan’ me to...”

You scowled as you heard the smug grin in his voice. Against your better judgement, you let out a harsh huff and stepped into his open doorway. There he was, the bastard, laid back on a couch not even fit for a second hand store, in his green robe and boxers. His face was pulled into a large, stupid smile and his eyes were red and heavy lidded. 

“Hey pretty lady…”

The way he looked at you and spoke made you want to shave your head with a cheese grater, but you’d promised Gary last week that you’d try and be more cordial with Dieter, so you slapped a tight smile on your face and crossed your arms. 

“Bravo. Ga-”

“CeeBee… honey, you look tense.” He patted the couch next to him. “Come on, baby, take a hoot. Chill out.”

“Gary wants to know if he’s gotta call Din in.”

The lazy smile on his face dropped slightly, and the small bit of his eyes you could see seemed to grow darker. Until that moment, the insecurity Dieter had over Din being better suited for this job had never occurred to you, but you could see it clear as day now.  “Fuckin’ Din…”, he growled as he stood up and moved towards you.

Trying to not let him see how intimidated you were as he stood far closer than you thought necessary as he glowered down at you, you held that tight smile and looked him up in the face.

“Tell Gary to call Din so he can watch me-”, he snarls lowly, poking his finger into your collarbone, “-an’ see how this show is ‘sposed to be done.”

After you’d relayed the message to Gary and watched his face go even redder, you went back to the ticket desk and tried to look busy. Gary was going to be in a mood tonight, having to pay both Dieter and Din to be there, and given how hot it was, he already knew that attendees would complain about the lack of AC so admission would be 50% instead of having to issue refunds. It was going to be a long, rough night. 

For the next hour, you handled the small crowd of attendees coming in, then hit a lull, allowing you a moment to pull out your phone and scroll through your socials mindlessly.

“Hey.”

Din’s voice cut through the ambient crowd chatter from the lobby and theatre and you clumsily tucked your phone in your bra and looked up, trying to give him as sweet and soft of a smile you could muster.

“Hey yourself.” You cringed internally at the saccharine, soft tone of your voice, but you couldn’t help but fall into this coquettish nightmare version of yourself when he was around. 

Din swallowed and nodded, eyes darting over you nervously. He cleared his throat and tapped the desk a few times and nodded again.

“Let Gary know I’m here, yeah?”, he murmured, taking one last look at you before heading down the ramp to Dieter’s dressing room.

You watched him walk away, his tight little ass hugged beautifully in his dark, faded jeans, and you let out a hopelessly desperate breath. Din, despite being an enigma to you, had you in a chokehold and he didn’t even know it.

That routine carried on for the next week: Gary would send you to Dieter to see if he needed to call Din; Dieter would make a vague pass at you and when rejected, he would tell you Din needed to come in; Gary would look like he was going to have an aneurysm; Din would come in and shyly say hello. 

Capers was closed on Sundays and this particular Saturday felt like it was dragging. Before Gary could call out and send you to Dieter’s room, you were already at his office door asking if he needed to know if Din was coming in. Opening the ‘Staff Only’ door and being hit in the sinuses with weed haze didn’t have the same impact as it had before and you didn’t bother announcing yourself before you walked into Dieter’s dressing room.

“Din?”, you asked flatly, giving him a bored look. 

He looked up at you, noting your lack of enthusiasm and his interest was piqued. “Awe, CeeBee. Take a seat and a hoot with me, sweetheart.”

If you had been blindfolded and didn’t already know he was sitting in front of you, you wouldn’t have known it was Dieter speaking; his tone was much softer and almost Din-like. For a moment, your guard was dangerously close to coming down and the way he looked at you through the blue haze from his bong was almost too enticing for you to ignore.

But then he coughed hard and let out a fart, making himself laugh. The illusion was broken and a scowl sat on your bored face. 

“Din?” you repeated in a far more firm tone. 

Dieter continued to giggle and cough, obviously ignoring your annoyance and once he was settled he nodded before taking another hit off the bong. He sat upright and blew the smoke into the air, coughing again.

“Yeah, baby… you know the drill. He needs to watch the master work.”

“And you really think that’s you? Seriously?”

It came out before you could stop yourself. God, you must be PMS’ing what with your inability to hold back your words or your facial expressions. 

Dieter stilled, eyeing you warily. You saw the shift. The annoying stoner had evaporated into the smoke in the room and what was now standing from the couch was a considerably angry looking Dieter.

 “What was that?” His voice was solid and low, almost coming out in a dangerous growl. 

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out as he took a few strides and stood above you, glaring down at you.

“I didn’t catch that, CeeBee. You wanna say that again?”

The low and burning timbre of his voice did something to you that you hated more than anything -  it turned you on. You could feel how wet you were getting as his intense puffs of breath from his nose hit you in the face. His brown eyes were dark and narrowed right onto yours and just by shifting his weight he was closer to you, backing you against the wall next to his door. His hand came up beside your head, planting his palm on the wall while the other gripped your chin ever so gently.

His head tilted slightly and his voice was softer, but still held the edge of his temper. “I put up with a lot from you, you know, CeeBee. Don’t think you appreciate what a fuckin’ gentleman I’ve been.”

Despite the position you were in, you couldn’t help but scoff. Dieter shook his head, his grip on your chin becoming a bit firmer.

“I mean it. I’ve been good. You think anyone would hear you scream from down here?”

Your eyes widened slightly at the threat and he smiled.

“There it is.”, he chuckled darkly. “Knew you were a smart girl.” 

He leaned forward, mouth far too close to yours and murmured, “Might not be as in shape as the Virgin Din, but I know how to take you down a few pegs, honey…”

God dammit. Fuck. Whatever he was doing was working and the self loathing you had become well acquainted with in all your morning afters was getting itself ready for another bout. But then your mind stopped, going back to what he said about Din.

“Virgin?”

The smug smirk on Dieter’s face grew into a smile as he leaned back and he purred,  “Yeah, you think that nerd has ever put his dick in anything that wasn’t made of silicone?”

You could feel yourself getting hotter and wetter by the second. Why was Dieter talking about Din like that so hot? And why did his eyes boring into yours as he spoke make you feel like you were being put in your place? Sure, you’d maintained prolonged eye contact with Dieter in a standoff situation more than once. But this? This was different; he had the upper hand and knew it, and was now toying with you.

His hand on your chin moving down to your neck and barely putting any pressure, like he was testing the waters. His eyes followed suit. 

“I can see your pulse…”, he murmured, eyes lidded and fixed on the side of your neck. He brushed his thumb over your pulse point and his eyes snapped back up to yours. He inhaled and in his exhale, he breathed out, “You like this…”

He wet his lips and he had you wound so tightly around his fingers, you could have come from that act alone. Dieter was mesmerizing and his ability to seduce was something you never expected. 

“I caught you watching him, you know.” With that low growl of a declaration, you swear you saw a possessive flash in his eyes, and his grip on your throat tightened slightly. “He wouldn’t know what to do with you. But I do…”

“Bra-Bravo… ple-”

He cut you off with a grin. “You wanna break that vow of celibacy you been clingin’ to?”

You scoffed and bit back, “I have not been celibate!”

Dieter laughed lowly and leaned in, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You just fuckin’ everyone but me, huh?” Then pressed another kiss to your cheek. “Whorin’ it up and not letting me have a bite?” He kissed the other cheek. “So mean, baby.”

He ghosted his mouth over yours, and he pulled back as you tried to catch his lips with your own. You let out a soft whimper and he returned a mock-pout to you in response. “Awe, CeeBee. Don’t tell me that all you needed was a firm hand and I coulda fucked you on this couch years ago…”

“Fuck you…” You spat through gritted teeth.

“I’d love to, honey.” The juxtaposition between the softness of his eyes and voice, and the force of his hand pushing between your thighs made your head spin. His large hand cupped your whole crux and his middle finger pressed the cheap, thin polyester fabric of your toga against your thong-clad slit.

Dieter sucked in a breath between his teeth and looked almost pained and he groaned, “Fuck, you’re soaked…”

It was like he broke character at the hint of a sopping wet pussy and the real Dieter came back out for a split second. “I need her, CeeBee… bet she’s aching for me, too.”

His mouth met yours in a hungry, fevered, desperate kiss, his tongue shoving its way past your teeth and against yours. You gripped onto anywhere you could - neck, shoulders, hair - and he grabbed your ass and hauled you up and over to the couch, letting you fall back onto it unceremoniously. Before you could react, he was down on his knees between your open legs, frantically tossing your toga skirt up, covering your head.

“Bravo! What the fu-ooooooh!” Your confusion turned to pleasure as his mouth kissed your heat through your thong with the same fervor he’d kissed your mouth.

He reached under you as he kept his mouth on you, pulling your thong down. He sat up and brought the small clump of damp fabric to his nose and inhaled. 

“I fuckin’ knew it…”, he groaned. “Holdin’ out this sweet of a pussy on me.”

He dove back in.

Unbeknownst to both you and Dieter, Gary got tired of waiting. He’d assumed that you and Dieter were having a blowout argument and that’s why you hadn’t returned yet and he called Din in. Whether Dieter was going on tonight or not, just in case he decided to throw a fit, Din needed to be here.

Twenty-five minutes later, Din walked in the front door and was surprised to see the ticket desk unmanned. He was disappointed; he liked seeing you and seeing that smile and hearing your voice. Even if outwardly he didn’t show it, he had nightly dreams about pulling you apart and making you whimper and whine under him. But he never took the chance; a girl like you probably already knew what a good fuck felt like and Din hadn’t made love to anyone ever. Never even gotten a blowjob, let alone a handjob. What 36 year-old was still a virgin? He knew what kind - him. The loser who grew up in a religious cult, the kid with the only outside influence being kung fu and swashbuckling movies watched in secret in his cousin’s basement. Those were the only taste of the outside world he had and as soon as he turned 18 and escaped, he found a mixed martial arts studio to train him then he found Caper… and then you. It would have all been perfect - if he knew what to do with his dick. 

He sighed and dropped his shoulders. Adjusting his backpack, he wandered down the ramp to the ‘Staff Only’ door and pushed in.

The first thing that hit him was the smell of Dieter’s weed, and before he could feel nauseated at the smell again, he heard… Din furrowed his brows. He knew that sound, but only in his late night fantasies. His eyes widened and he sucked in a breath, covering his mouth.

It was you. 

Then he heard Dieter, grunting and groaning, and his heart sank. Just from those sounds alone, he knew Dieter had finally sunk his claws into you and he didn’t have a hope in hell in having you to himself. He swallowed back the dejected huff, about to turn away and leave. But he couldn’t; the chance to at least get to see you all laid out and in ecstasy was too great a temptation, even if he wasn’t the one to do it to you. 

Cautiously, he took a few steps to Dieter’s dressing room door. It was open halfway and he thought if he could just take a peek, just get a glimpse, he would be set for the next six months at least in his nightly self-loving session. 

He crept up to the door, peering around the frame, and almost choked. There you were, naked and on your hands and knees, crying out and gripping the sofa as Dieter had one foot planted on the floor and the other he kneeled on as he pounded into you, his hand digging into the soft flesh of your hips. His mouth went dry and he could feel his jeans getting tighter in the crotchular region, mindlessly rubbing his bulge against the door frame in small motions. 

When Dieter reached one of his thick arms around your waist and brought your back up flush with his front and Din got his first look at your bare breasts, bouncing in time with Dieter’s thrusts, he let out an involuntary groan, inadvertently alerting you and Dieter to his presence.

Your eyes, hazy and heavy lidded, snapped to Din’s face watching through the doorway and Dieter chuckled into your ear before sucking your lobe into his mouth.  His eyes bore into Din’s and Din couldn’t look away. He couldn’t move, he was frozen in place.

Dieter smiled, his teeth holding on to your ear as he grunted and thrusted up into you.

“Din… her cunt’s perfect. Ripe and ready to snatch your v-card, buddy.”

You watched as Din’s hips involuntarily bucked against the door frame and Dieter felt you flutter and clench around him. 

“Mmmm… she wants you, too, my dude.”

You whined as Dieter let you go, shoving you face down on  the couch and pulling out. Din watched with eyes wide as Dieter walked tall and proud towards him, his cock bouncing up against his paunch of a belly. Din stumbled back, his back hitting the wall and Dieter stepped out into the hallway and crowded again Din, caging him between his arms and bringing his face right up to his.

“You wanna taste her?” Dieter rasped, his mouth close enough to Din’s that he could smell your tangy musk on his breath. 

Din’s mouth was agape and eyes wide as Dieter leaned in and kissed him. It was much softer than Din could have ever expected Dieter to be, but he gasped into Dieter’s grin when the older man’s hand palmed the front of Din’s jeans, feeling just how hard his dip into voyeurism had made him.

“Oh you’re ready, aren’t you, buddy…”, Dieter grunted, pulling back slightly to watch as Din’s eyes rolled back as he applied more pressure and Din bucked his hips against his hand. He smiled as he watched the younger man pant and huff and he kissed him again, this time more aggressively. Dieter then pulled Din away from the wall and dragged him into his dressing room, standing behind him while ensuring Din’s eyes were on you. Dieter wrapped his arms around his slight waist and started undoing his jeans as he kissed his neck.

“Now… Ceebee’s ready… got her all primed up for you.”, he purred, then nodded towards you. “Show him.”

You hesitated, unsure if this is not only what you really wanted but also for Din. But then Din bit his lip looking at you in a way that set your body on fire and Dieter gave you a firm glare, wordlessly taking control of the situation. You tentatively laid back and opened your legs, pussy puffy, pink and glistening. Din whimpered and Dieter smiled darkly at you.

“Good girl…” His tone was low and dark and he kissed Din’s neck again, sliding the zipper fly of his jeans down. “You want that? Wanna feel it wrap around your dick, there, bud?”

Din nodded eagerly, a pained, yearning look on his face as his eyes stayed glued to your exposed core. 

“Yeah?”, Dieter breathed out against Din’s neck, lifting his shirt to expose his toned midriff. “I know you’re packin’...”

Din huffed out a whine and closed his eyes, leaning back as Dieter’s hand pushed down his underwear enough that his cock slapped up against his stomach. The top was red and weeping, looking painfully hard. Dieter gently gripped it and you watched as Din’s knees nearly buckled as he let out a loud whine.

“Shhh… I know… new things… overwhelming… Doing so good for me, buddy.”, Dieter cooed softly, his thick arm holding Din up against him while the other gently began to stroke him. “Ceebee, honey… look at him. Fuckin’ hung…”

Your eyes hadn’t left Din’s cock. Even in Dieter’s large hand it looked big, and your cunt ached in need. You sucked in a breath through your nose and your lips parted as you exhaled shakily. 

“She likes you, Din… Look at her. All flushed and needy… look how wet she is…”

Din nodded and whimpered, biting his lip hard as Dieter spoke softly as he stroked him. His head lolled back onto Dieter’s shoulder and he panted out, “I… I wan’her… but I-I don’know wha-”

“Shhhh… Dieter Bravo has you covered, buddy. Bet you you’re gonna wanna marry her after this.”

He nipped his neck and released Din’s cock and put his hands on his hips. Din huffed out, a pained look on his face and Dieter nodded to you.

“Look at her, Din… You wanna feel how warm and wet she is?” Dieter’s voice was low and his eyes were menacingly dark. He nudged Din towards you, his shins and knees hitting the edge of the couch between your open legs.

You looked up at him, lips parted and brows furrowed; he looked perfect and so very overwhelmed. His hair was beginning to stick to his forehead and his small, husky whimpers were making it very hard to not just get him away from Dieter. 

“Din… if you don’t want thi-”

“N-no!”, he choked out, looking down at you. His pupils had taken over his whole eye and his features were pulled in a way that made him look almost demonic. “No… fuck, no I wan-want this- you. I want you.”

You nodded, your breath hitching at his apparent enthusiastic - and slightly unnerving - need. 

“Atta boy, Dinny…”, Dieter praised in a growl. “You wan’her snatch suckin’ you in?”

Din nodded, mouth hung open, panting as his eyes stared at your pussy. Dieter continued to chuckle, gripping Din’s hips as his cocked stayed hard and twitching against his flat stomach. 

“You ever touched the winking eye of god, buddy?” Dieter cooed. Din shook his head slightly, still dumbly staring down at you. Dieter nudged Din again, onto his knees between your legs. “Go on… don’t be shy…”

Din brought a shaky hand to your core, a whisper soft touch of his index finger moved slowly around your hole and then up against your clit, making you twitch and let out a gasping whine. 

“See? She likes that…” Dieter’s eyes flick to you. “Don’t you, CeeBee?”

You nodded and moaned out an ‘uh-huh’. You let out a whimpering yelp as he pushed two fingers into you suddenly, and Dieter’s hand gripped his wrist.

“Ho, ho, ho, buddy! Easy… gotta be gentle with her…”, he tsk’d softly, his brows furrowed and he pulled Din’s hand back gently. 

“S-sorry… I-”

“S’okay, Din… it’s okay…”, you nodded looking up at him. It didn’t hurt, it just surprised you.

Dieter moved his hand up over Din’s and adjusted Din’s thumb over your clit, having him apply just the right amount of pressure in a circular motion. “That’s it… ringin’ the devil’s doorbell…”

Dieter released his hand and Din pushed two fingers back into you slowly, keeping the mobile pressure on your bundle of nerves. Despite the slight jerky motions and the bit of hangnail Din had on one of his fingers, for a first timer, it felt pretty good. Dieter patted Din’s hip and moved around to you, dipping his head down and kissing you. 

“You gonna give him a good time, CeeBee?” The softness in his eyes and the direct way he asked told you that he ironically and weirdly had a great deal of respect for the ritual you were about to take part in, the one involving Din losing his virginity. 

You nodded, huskily replying, “Yeah, Bravo-ooh fuck! Yes… r-right there!” then panting out moans.

Din’s long fingers had found the spot that had evaded so many men in your life. And he hit it over and over, and his thumb, the way his thumb kept the motion on it… 

Dieter got up quickly and moved behind Din, his hands on his shoulders, nodding. “Keep doing that… Yes, yeah, good boy. Yeah… when she makes that sound? You keep doing whatever it is you were doing when she made that sound.”

Din’s breath panted out between his teeth as he bit his lip in time with his fingers in and out of you. Dieter didn’t know where to look: you, knees bent and legs open, whining and arching your back or Din, sweating and hypnotized by your pussy sucking his fingers in. He swallowed hard and put his hands back on Din’s slim waist and almost hoarsely encouraged him as he looked at you over his shoulder.

“Come on, buddy… you got her this close… come on… make her cry… keep - Christ on a cracker - keep going…”

Din’s breath hitched with each inhale and his cock was painfully hard, beading precum on his toned stomach, and you could feel your orgasm slipping with his loss of rhythm. You reached down and gently grabbed his wrist to stop him, looking at his face.

Din was on another level of existence. His eyes were glazed and his bottom lip was wet and reddened from his worrying it between his teeth and his cheeks, neck and the part of his chest you could see were flushed and damp. 

“Buddy…”, Dieter whispered as he pressed soft kisses on his neck. “She wants you, baby…”

Din nodded loosely, his brows furrowing, and the only sound that came from him was a low whine as Dieter’s hands pulled his jeans and underwear down further on his hips. You sat up and tugged his t-shirt up and off his body and there he was. 

“God, I remember when I looked this good…”, Dieter groaned, reaching around and smearing his hand through the precum on Din’s stomach. Din hissed and groaned as Dieter gripped his cock and rolled his foreskin up and over the tip with a gentle twist a few times, making the younger man shudder and whine and lean back against him. 

You watched this severely intimate moment between the two men and you could feel your arousal slick your hole even more than it was. “Din…”, you mewled.

Dieter’s gaze snapped to you and he grinned, his brow flicking. “Hear that, buddy? She’s askin’ for you. You and your big, fuckin’ hog. Wants you to rail her. You think you can?”

“Y-yesgodpleaseyes!”, DIn grunted out, desperation and agony bleeding his words together.

Dieter nodded, a silent, huffed chuckle rippled out of him and over Din’s skin, and you watched the goosebumps raise where it touched. He stopped his movement and held his cock, thumbing the slit gently.  “How you gonna take her, huh? You wanna fuck’er from behind, holdin’ on to her tits? She feels so good like th-”

“I… wanna see… her face.”, he stammered out slack jawed, keeping his dazed eyes on yours.

Wordlessly you took his hand and pulled him down to you, and he responded by kissing you. Given that it was only his second time locking lips with another person ever, you excused how wide he had his mouth and how forcefully his tongue jabbed your teeth. 

You reached between the two of you and wrapped your hand around Din’s aching member and he whined pitifully into your mouth, bucking his hips. Dieter put his hands on his waist and dug his fingers in as he hotly growled into Din’s ear, “So fuckin’ ready, Dinny-boy!”

You notched Din’s cock at your waiting entrance and he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, with Dieter hushing him from behind. 

It was then that you heard him - Gary was yelling for you, Dieter or Din as he walked down the ramp towards the ‘Staff Only’ door. Dieter’s head whipped up and at his open dressing room door then back at you, eyes wide with a hesitant grin pulling at one side of his mouth. 

“You two… you keep going… I’ll - “, he stated softly, thumbs pointing at the door, and with that, he got up, threw on his robe. 

It was almost too late when Dieter bounded towards the door and he ended up slamming it behind him just as Gary walked into the hallway. 

“Bravo, I been callin’ for-” “We are meditating.”, Dieter replied, trying to keep his tone as ‘zen’ as possible as he put his palms together and bowed. “We are healing what is fractured.”

Gary stared at him for a beat before narrowing his eyes. “You’re what?” “Meditating. And you are bringing in some real bad energy, there, Gare-bear.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?”, Gary barked back, confusion and nervousness right under the surface.

Dieter smiled, keeping his voice smooth and calm. “Your negative vibes are giving you what we call ‘energy constipation’... so come in, sit on the floor with us and hum your body’s vibration to give yourself a spiritual laxative.”

Gary must have thought that he died and this was his own personal hell. He stared at Dieter for a second too long, trying to find anything to say, but only managed a hoarsely gruff “No.” before he turned and left the hallway. 

Dieter watched him leave and when the ‘Staff only’ door closed, he breathed out a sigh of relief and returned to the room. 

Din had his eyes clenched shut, hissing curses under his breath as you hushed him. Dieter couldn’t ignore the want apparent in your voice. 

“He in yet?”, he asks softly, crawling in behind Din again. He noted you giving him a nodding shrug and he nodded back. “Buddy, come on…”

Dieter gripped Din’s hips and pushed them forward gently enough for his cock to wedge its way into you. You gasped and gripped Din’s shoulders.

“Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod!”, Din whined out as his cock moved into you. He tilted his head back, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Din was thick and you were torn between feeling honored that you were the first to feel his girth stretch your pussy and what a shame it was that he wasn’t getting his hog sucked or fucked regularily. As his coarse hairs at the base of his pressed up against your clit, your mind went blank. Sure, you’d had dicks of all sizes throughout your trysts and encounters, but Din was the biggest. Even Dieter, with his extensive experience, couldn’t compare to how big Din was and what it was doing for you… apparently, size did matter.

“Jesus fuckin - Din… honey… you’re huge…”

Dieter’s hands on his hips pulled Din back and then pushed him forward. “Keep this pace…”, he murmured, peering over Din’s shoulder. “Look… look down… Jesus, look…”

Din managed to bring his head down and it was almost too much, seeing your tits rise and fall with each breath while his cock went into you and came out, shining with your arousal. 

“There’s nothing better, Dinny-boy…”, Dieter cooed before kissing his neck. You watched between slitted eyelids as one of his hands came up to Din’s chest, gently tweaking one of his nipples. 

It happened in slow motion: Din’s body jerked and he let out an agonized groan, your eyes widened and you grabbed his arms, and Dieter’s smile dropped and he pulled Din’s hips back.

Din’s cock was already spewing white, pearly cum as it popped up and out of you. His come dribbled out of your pussy and off your mound, lips and the creases where your thighs met your crux, pooling under you. All three of you were breathing heavily, while Din’s brows furrowed above his clenched eyes and you and Dieter exchanged glances.

The quiet of all of your breathing was cut by Dieter scoffing, “Well that was fuckin’ rude.”

You stared at him, completely disgusted by his audacity and snapped, “Bravo, what the fuck??”

Din murmured “I’m sorry.” and you sympathetically rubbed his arm.

“It’s okay… we ca-we can try again?”, you offered softly.

Dieter scoffed again, sounded offended, but you weren’t sure at what. “No! I saw what you did there, Din, and that was NOT the way! You’re cleanin’ up his fuckin’ mess like a gentleman!”

“Dieter - Jesus Christ!”

He roughly grabbed Din around the waist and pulled him back with one arm and his other wrapped under his armpit in a Half Nelson, his hand gripping his hair. His grin was scarily intimidating. “Party’s not over. You’re gonna make her cum, fingers and mouth.”

Din nodded, clearly spooked but fully on board for whatever, and Dieter shoved his face into your pussy and held it there.

If Din was shaky on his first time putting his dick in a pussy, he was a natural born killer with his mouth. He took to it like a fish to water, intuitively going for your clit with tongue then his mouth. You let out a sigh and smiled, feeling like you had to fight your eyes from crossing. 

“Yeah…”, Dieter groaned, letting Din go and getting up. He pushed his weed rolling tray off the coffee table and shoved his pants to his ankles before sitting on the table and gripping his cock in his hands while he had a front row seat to Din eating you out. 

Din had watched enough porn and read enough about how eating pussy was like using your tongue to get the meat from between the bones on a chicken wing that he felt confident enough about it, and your sighs and soft breathy sounds encouraged him to keep going.

He adjusted his face lower, shoving his tongue into you and ground his nose against your bundle of nerves, sending a wave of pleasure over your body. The only thing that could dampen this was - 

“She taste good, buddy?”, Dieter grunted, tugging his cock. His face was red and sweaty and on every downstroke, his fist pushed into his belly.  

“Shut the fuck up, Bravo!”, you hissed, arching your back slightly and grabbed your tits,worrying your nipples between your fingers.

Dieter grinned, grunting, “Tell me to shut up again… I wanna cum on your tits while he tongue fucks you.”

You were about to retort, but Din moved his mouth back up to your clit, and shoved a few fingers into you and began pumping them in and out. You pinched your nipples hard and cried out, screeching his name and Din moaned and whined as your arousal squirted up his arm and on his lower face.

Dieter stood up and took a step towards you but tripped over his pants still around his ankles, falling face first on the floor.

Din sat up, his shoulders rising and falling with the biggest grin on his wet face. “You’re so pretty…”

You thought it was such an oddly innocent thing to say to you, given the things that just transpired, but you smiled at him. You both couldn’t hold back the giggles and Din caged you between his elbows as he leaned down and kissed you. 

As you made out on the couch, Dieter groaned face down on the floor. “I think I broke my dick.”

That night’s show went down as one of the best Din had ever given, while Dieter went to the hospital for a broken wrist and potentially bruised phallus. You were sure Gary knew exactly what had happened in the dressing room, but he said nothing beyond a quick nod and a maybe half smile. 

The doors opened and you looked at the rows of friends and family in rows on either side of the room, then your eyes locked with Din as he stood at the other end of the aisle, next to Dieter. His mouth twitched, showing the emotion he was trying to keep at bay, as you walked towards him. When you finally stood in front of him, he took your hand, and you both faced Dieter.

“Dearly beloved.”, Dieter started with a smile. “You are gathered here to watch me marry these two chucklefucks because I’m the one who brought them together.”

Gary huffed angrily from the front row. “Jesus Christ, Bravo.”

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

[inchidentalmeowmeow]

That sweat drop was a paid actor 🥵

Resurfacing this Max gif cuz wtf

[kremlin]

i actually do know who needs to hear this, it’s most people, in fact, it’s likely you, statistically; we are entering the american election campaign season, and there are caveats i’d like you to be aware of, and to that effect, i am cashing in on my many years of demonstrated knowledge about The Computer.

you indeed cannot trust what you read on the internet. someone will, indeed, go on here and tell lies. this is no shocker to you, you know this, i know this, i know you know this, but i insist you think about it.

you must know my beliefs regarding conspiracy theories fall far, far to one side of the spectrum: i do not believe them. i dismiss them out of hand on principle. axiomatically. and i am here today to tell you the concept, existence, execution, and proximity of paid, phony, engagement-manipulated, political advertisement is not only real, it is the status quo.

would you describe yourself to others as:

A.) smarter than than they think you are

or

B.) not as dumb as they think you are

if you responded with option A, you are more than likely to be greatly more susceptible to these underhanded messages than you think. option B respondent’s outlook is brighter, only relatively. to restate this in a more digestible way, there are two wolves inside you, one takes top-voted comments to reddit posts on face value. the other, takes top-voted comments to reddit posts on face value. you take top-voted comments to reddit posts on face value.

those responsible for such comments are effective in their endeavors, because they think about it. they do not approach their work mystically nor inefficiently. they know what to say to you, because they know what language you speak.

a thoughtless individual would read one of the only proper noun phrases in this post, “american election season”, and limit their perspective to exactly two possible entities to watch out for. this individual has, with a pep in their step and a whistle on their lips, stepped directly on a land mine. maybe this individual was you, if so, don’t sweat it, allow me to yank you away at the last moment by your shirt collar. there's tertiary actors at play, and possibly even more, if only we could invent a word that mean's "the fourth thing" and so on

a very large, very easily guessable country has, for some time now, engaged in organized astroturfing or misinformation or disinformation or whatever-you-want-to-call-it campaigns, to great effect, with their angle being to flood the airwaves with so much conflicting information that you, the individual, feel hopeless, and lose your confidence in discerning truth from fiction.

i use this example not because that country or my country or this election or whatever is a key component here, they're not, this applies to everyone using the internet socially, and if you don't think there are disingenuous actors' words appearing on your computer screen at some regular rate, you're also stepping on a landmine.

you just have to think about things, and maybe, from time to time, turn on an electric stove and put your finger on it to remind yourself that there is indeed a very real, objective reality we live in, and that if you find yourself asking, "how can we see if our eyes aren't real", someone has put rats in your head

it goes beyond just politics though, hell, i would describe all of modern marketing to use essentially these same tricks. don't fall for them! my technique is to just approach any written text found online, most especially "comments", with the same utter hater energy as salieri in amadeus.

and hey, while you're at it, pass this thinking along to kids, they're kind-of the first generation that has to deal with an internet that is mostly ingenuine meaningless bullshit, not like we had it, when it was mostly genuine meaningless bullshit.

[spiderlily-w1tch-blog]

𝙰𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚋𝚒 - 𝙰𝙱𝙾 𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚝

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

Ft Shibi’s insects; ft claiming|mating, oviposition, knotting, breeding

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own Naruto or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 4,533

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Includes father-daughter incest, Omegaverse, Oviposition, cervix fucking/breaching, Minimal use of Y/n, 2nd Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖎 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: ISS DA BUG BOIS 😖😖❤️❤️❤️

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

You woke up feeling an uncomfortable heat surrounding your body, sweat clinging to your body, and a slight fogginess in your mind that refused to completely clear. You whimpered slightly at the unknown feeling but got up anyways. Your legs were a bit weak at first but you paid no mind, chalking it up to simply having just woken up.

You went through your normal routine, sliding into your clothes, though you noticed an odd feeling in your tight clothes. Shrugging it off yet again, telling yourself you’d make a trip to the onsen later to hopefully rid yourself of whatever this was. Finishing up with fastening all your pouches, you left your room and went to eat breakfast before you went to the insectarium.

You were getting closer and closer to hatching all your new insects and you couldn’t wait. Your excitement and brighter personality contrasted slightly with the stoic demeanor of your Father and Brother but they never seemed to mind any. Moreso they seemed to enjoy it.

Reaching the kitchen you were greeted excitedly by your father’s insects buzzing around you and landing on your arms and chest and buzzing around you.

“Hahah! Good morning to you, too!” You greeted pleasantly and giggled more when Okara landed on my nose and started crawling around, tickling me.

“Good morning, Ladybug. Are you wearing any fragrance today?” The Alpha- Your Father- asked, confused by the actions of his insects. ‘Since when do I pay so much attention to his Dynamic?’ You vaguely wondered for a moment before brushing it off. Probably just still a little tired, besides it’s easy to notice since the clan is mostly Betas with maybe an Alpha or two in each district, especially with your father very obviously being one of them.

“‘Morning, Daddy! Nope, none. I guess everyone’s just happy to see me!” You giggled at the beetles’ behavior. Chuckling slightly, your father shook his head in amusement before simply returning to his breakfast.

“Alright, then. Come sit down and have some breakfast, we’ll have to go into town today to get new habitation for your insects, they’ll be hatching soon, but it looks like we may have gotten the wrong kind last time by the looks of the eggs.” At hearing that, you quickly sat and started on your food, making sure not to choke and taking breaks to hold a piece of food in your palm to let your father’s insects all eat.

“Done!” You declared, standing quickly and rushing to grab your coat.

“Slow down, Ladybug, we have the whole day.” He spoke with a slight smirk of amusement.

“‘Kay,” You smiled sheepishly. He got up, at a reasonable pace much to your overexcited chagrin, and moved to follow you, grabbing his own coat.

“C’mon. We’ll get soil mixture first, some feed, too, we bought it too early, it seems.” You bounced on the balls of your feet, though the sudden motion and the hard landing on the ground sent a shot of pain to your pelvis. You winced slightly and your father’s insects seemed to respond to your pain as they crawled toward your hips. You smiled lightly at their concern and walked to keep up with the Alpha.

“Are you sure you’re not wearing any fragrance, Ladybug? You smell sweeter.” He noticed, glancing at you from behind his glasses.

“Uhh.. Nope, I dunno, maybe it’s left over from being outside yesterday or something,” You shrugged. He accepted that as a viable answer and continued on the path further into town.

You reached the shop and saw that it was surprisingly busy for so early in the morning, though it wasn’t overly so, thank goodness. You and your father silently agreed to “divide and conquer” so that you could move on to the rest of your day. As you walked away from the Alpha you felt a whine building in your throat but fought it with the reasoning that he was just outside of the relatively small shop.

When you stood in front of the almost-ripe fruit, you heard your father’s voice from outside the shop as he spoke to someone. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about who or what he was saying when a strong thrum of heat and need shot through you. You stumbled and had to grab onto a nearby shelf to keep yourself upright and let out an almost pained whimper.

You didn’t know what was happening but you knew that your scent glands were pumping out more scent than ever before and it was so incredibly different from anything you’d ever released. You also knew that your instincts were screaming at you to get to your father- to your Alpha.

Hearing the whimper, your father immediately rushed to the door, swinging it open, only to be met with a wave of pheromones that nearly floored him from the strength alone.

“Y/n?” He uttered, realizing the strong scent was coming from you when he saw the few other customers inside dazed and instinctively staring at you.

“Daddy..” You whimpered out, clamping your thighs together when a wave of slick tried to gush out of you when you caught sight of your father. The Alpha could feel all the stares on you as if they were just as much on himself and surged forward to block anyone else from getting to you first.

When he got to you, your pheromones amplified so much that he felt his resolve practically dissipate right there. As soon as he got right in front of you, his hands went straight to your hips, holding you up.

“Y/n? Baby, are you okay? Y/n.. Ladybug, you’re.. an Omega.” He muttered, almost like a realization. No one had suspected since the typical age for presentation had come and gone 2 years ago.

“Daddy… It.. It hurts..” You whimpered and looked up at him over your glasses. That finally did it, he needed to help you, and he needed to help you now. His instincts, his Alpha instincts, took over and he surged forward to the distressed Omega in need, to his Omega. His precious little Omega daughter, the first one in generations, he can’t even remember how many it’s been. Not that he’d be able to now with you whining so pretty and needy in front of him. His unexpected little blessing. His lips connected with yours and a wave of relief washed over you, but it just wasn’t enough. You needed more. More contact. More skin. Just.. More.

The scent of your slick pooling in your panties and sticking to your thighs wafted throughout the shop. Your scent, your heat-heavy scent, filled his senses and kickstarted his drive to help you, to care for you. He knelt down with you as your legs began to give out and pulled you close, a hand on the side of your neck and the other on your waist. You surged forward towards him and clung to him desperately as you cried. The contact he gave you helped incrementally but it was enough to have you craving more.

“Please, Daddy…” You whimpered into his neck and weakly pawed at his clothes and tugged at your own. Quickly, he complied with your pleas and tugged his coat off and helping yours follow it. The pattern continued until you were both all but naked as the day you were born save for his glasses. The aroma of your cunt filled the shop stronger than ever without anything to trap it. Had it not been for your Alpha’s your father’s presence, the other Alphas would have been irresistibly drawn to you with the insatiable urge to breed you for hours on end until your heat was satisfied— and likely even after.

Unable to control himself any longer, your father surged forward and captured your lips again, his hand moving down to stroke over your dripping wet heat. You instantly released needy mewls into his mouth and didn’t fight the automatic movements of your hips jutting into his palm. It seemed he wasn’t holding anything back either as he quickly dipped his fingers inside you. He pumped his digits in your dripping cunt and easily curled his fingers perfectly into that spongy spot inside. A lewd keen erupted into the air and it made his cock swell. As slick gushed into his palm, your father shifted his hand to fuck you with his fingers. With his first two outstretched and the rest curled into his palm, your father plunged his fingers in and out of you at such a divine speed. Your legs tried to bend and kick at the sudden rush of pleasure that you’d never experienced before— at least not to that degree. Your father— Your Alpha held them in place, though, with his other hand. He grabbed you just above the knee of the leg closest to him and pulled it over his lap to have your legs spread on either side of him.

Your slick dripped down your thighs and immediately coated his pants. The crotch of his trousers was absolutely soaked and stained with your needy arousal and it brought a pleased and possessive growl rumbling through his chest. That noise sent a shockwave of heat through you and ignited another round of Heat Cramps. The painful emptiness of your needy, greedy cunt screamed at you through the convulsing pain in your lower abdomen. With a pained whimper and a subtle curl of your body inward, your Alpha knew that he needed to help you faster. As much as he wanted to taste his cute little Omega daughter, that would have to wait as he needed to fill you now. He reluctantly slid his fingers, now positively dripping with your slick, out of your clenching and trembling pussy and left an affectionate and apologetic caress on your swollen clit. Your whines increased as your father made quick work of undoing his pants with one hand and tugging them down just enough to let his big, aching, leaking cock spring free. It slapped against his toned stomach with a muffled ‘plap’ through his shirt.

The sight and the musky scent that was released both from his thick cock and from his scent glands made your mouth water and your pussy gush with slick. Another gush was brought on from the sight of your Alpha licking his fingers of your slick, sucking on the digits greedily, and groaning at your taste, already anticipating when he’d be able to taste you properly. Another whine loosed from your lips, though this one was more needy than pained. You knew about the abnormal biology of your clan’s men but you had never seen it before. As his cock bounced up out of his trousers to slap against his firm tummy you got to see the ridges and bumps that lined the underside of it. The light flare of the bottom edge of the mushroom tip, the slight cone-like tapering of the head, the slit that leaked with precum that slid down his shaft and made the ridges even more enticing. Your needy cunt twitched and clenched around nothing in excitement for how inevitably fantastic that would feel inside you.

Another transfixed Alpha inching towards you wrenched a possessive growl from your father’s throat and a dominating scent to mingle with his horny lustful aroma already encompassing the air around you. It also sent him into action. Your Alpha shifted his hips while he sent a deadly glare at the encroaching Alpha and slid his stiff cock through your folds, dragging the ridges over the throbbing, dripping lips and over your swollen, pulsing bud. A long moan escaped you as your back arched and your pussy fluttered in desperate need to be filled by the fat cock that teased your arousal.

He coated himself in your slick before hitching his tip at your entrance, just managing to control himself to not ram into you immediately. Your Daddy had to remind himself that you were still his sweet little virgin daughter even if you were panting and moaning like a whore in heat. It was only your first heat, and you most certainly weren’t a whore. Not yet anyways, you’d be Daddy’s little Omega whore soon enough. As he slowly slid his ridged cock inside your soaked little cunt, he thought about how he’d knot and breed you, and you’d be his good little Omega from then on. And, oh, how your tight little pussy clamped down on him like a vice. The heat-induced elasticity of your cunt still offered resistance as he pressed in.

“Daddy.. Alpha… Please.. More…” You whimpered with a nearly fucked out expression. As enticing as it was to indulge you and just slam his full length inside of you, he didn’t want to hurt you. If you weren’t such a small little thing, he wouldn’t have had to be as careful, but he would never trade anyone or anything for his sweet little Omega daughter. His sweet little girl. No matter how old you got you remained such a cute little thing and would forever be his little girl, now his little Omega as well. With the same amount of love and precious care that he always took, he slid slowly and smoothly inside you, stopping every few inches to give you a small break from the harsh stretch. Whimpers of need and want mixed with ones of pain and your daddy wished he could take away the pain so that he could freely rail you to your horny little heart’s desire. He nosed at the underside of your jaw for comfort and spread a soothing scent over you that you utterly drank up, relaxing your body and adding another type of relaxed and floaty haze to your mind, though one that didn’t hinder your thoughts, rather combatted your Heat Haze to clarify them a bit.

Your daddy’s awareness was snapped back to the presence of the other Alphas in the shop when their own horny scents permeated the air. It brought a growl from deep in his chest and sharpened his glare at them all to ensure they all stayed back as his hips finally met yours when he bottomed out. A groan of satisfaction mixed in with his possessive growl and it seemed to work toward keeping the other Alphas at bay.

“Daddy… Alpha…” You whimpered, bucking your hips up against his and the friction was enough to have both of you moaning.

“Don’t worry, Omega. Daddy’s here. ‘m gonna help you. Gonna fuck you nice and good.” He rambled a bit, your heat finally permeating his brain. He began to move his hips against you, small movements that provided friction but didn’t stretch you further just yet. His pelvis ground against your clit and had you arching your back, a wanton whine leaving your lips. Soon enough he couldn’t hold back any longer and pulled back, the ridges of his cock dragging deliciously against your gummy walls. Only the slightly coned tip was left inside you before he pushed forward again, the pleasure shooting up your spine, sending delightful sensations tingling through your brain. With each thrust, the fog in your mind got slightly lighter until it was merely a pleasant haze and you could finally register your surroundings again.

You could register the scents of all of the other Alphas standing around you, the Betas hanging around in the back, the few Omegas outside peering in, all of them frozen by their instincts as they watched your Alpha father hunched protectively over your lust-filled frame and rhythmically thrust his hips into yours. You could view the blissed-out expression on your Daddy’s face as he humped into you, his cock hitting all the right spots in your tight unused pussy. You could smell the musky earthy scent mixed with the pure love and lust and arousal that surrounded you and mixed with your own newly awakened Omegan scent equally filled with arousal and love for your Alpha. You could finally hear your own pitched moans that were punched out of you by every deep thrust he delivered. Your arms flew to tightly wrap around his shoulders and dig your little claws into his back and pull him closer to you. His elbows planted beside you as he willingly went with your tugs and leaned down to be level with you. Your heavy breaths mingled as your faces were hardly inches apart.

“Feels… Feels so good, Daddy… Alphaaaa..!” You keened lewdly as your walls involuntarily clenched around your Father’s cock. Your scent, your mewls, your bucking hips, and the presence of the Alphas around all pushed him into speeding up his thrusts. The dangling charm on his glasses knocked against his face and the tinted lenses obstructed his view of all of you, so he lifted one hand to push them up into his hairline, showing his golden eyes. They pierced into you delightfully and made you shiver under his gaze.

“So pretty, Ladybug, such a good girl. Good Omega. Good for your Alpha.” He growled possessively and jackhammered his hips into you, striking so deeply. His coned tip battered into your cervix and leaked precum that loosened you up further. Looking into your Daddy’s eyes, you felt the overwhelming intimacy of the moment and tugged him farther down and he immediately followed, knowing what you wanted as he wanted the exact same.

His lips crashed into yours and they moved sloppily together as his cock moved inside you. Your tongues clashed wetly and messily as he swallowed your moans and you swallowed his grunts. It didn’t take long for instincts to take over and he separated from your lips, though, he didn’t stray far, trailing down your jaw, down your neck, down to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, right where your mating gland was. He placed kisses and nips around the area but didn’t sink his fangs in yet. While his hips still pistoned inside you, he redirected his attention to your chest, hunching to reach your sensitive buds. One hand moved to cup the breast he wasn’t laving over and thumbed at your nipple. Your back arched and your inner walls tightened. They clamped down on your father’s cock and your body shook with your first orgasm as an Omega. His whole body stuttered at the feeling, his pace faltering at the sudden tightness and it brought him that much closer to his own orgasm. It tightened the knot in his abdomen and it reinvigorated his urge to fill you up.

With a pleased growl, he nipped at your breast and kept up his thrusting. The ridges pressed perfectly into sensitive spots and had you mewling from the stimulation. Praises flowed out of his lips in between kisses he pressed to your breasts and collarbones, leading up your neck to lick, suck, and nip at your throat and your scent gland. His deep voice rumbled pleasantly into your ear as he left a hickey right below it where you were sensitive.

“Such a good Omega. Gonna let your Alpha fill you up? Have my pups? Have my larvae?” He licked your neck enticingly and it had your whole body tremble and your pussy flutter around him. The base of your father’s cock had swelled up and pushed at your entrance with every harsh thrust, catching on your rim each time.

The feeling called to your instincts in a way that you couldn’t comprehend. The prospect of being knotted made your Omega purr loudly and preen at the promises it held. The feeling of it, added to how it called to your instincts, and wrapped up with your daddy nipping at your mating gland all sent you careening into your second orgasm, this one more powerful than the last.

Your body convulsed and your walls clamped down so hard that your cunt was trying to milk him for all he was worth. That was his tipping point as well, it seemed, or the beginning of it anyways. He pushed as far in as he could, though his knot wasn’t fully inflated yet so you weren’t tied together. His cone-shaped tip pushed into and just slightly breached your cervix, making your back arch at the sensation. It felt so odd, but it was still pleasurable. Gasps were heard around you, reminding you that you weren’t alone. You lazily glanced around and saw them all staring at where you and your Alpha were connected, though it seemed that they all thought he had knotted you. Your attention was instantly drawn back to the cock inside you when you felt something shift. Like something was traveling through his cock and subsequently through your cunt.

His Ovipositor! That’s right!

You were excited to experience it, happy to have your Alpha Father lay his eggs in you for you to incubate. You lazily moved your heavy hand to reach down and softly caress the soft skin above your womb. That seemed to please your father because he purred deeply and affectionately nuzzled your scent gland. Then, you felt it. You felt the egg, no larger than a small blueberry, though it felt as squishy as a peeled grape. It pushed its way through your cervix and plopped into your awaiting womb, seeming to find an anchor there. The sensation was all kinds of weird but you loved it, even through the mild discomfort of your cervix being forced open. The ridges of his cock pressed more into your gummy walls when an egg passed through. After the second one, your daddy noticed your discomfort and distracted you by pressing his lips to yours and sloppily making out with you, taking your mind off the uncomfortable feeling. His hand returned to its groping motions on your tit as he kissed you and before you realized, you were filled with 13 more eggs, making 15 in total.

“You did so good, are you ready for the rest?” He pulled away, a thin trail of saliva connecting your swollen lips to his, a sultry promise of more making you shiver.

“Please, Alpha…” You sighed headily and he smirked proudly, giving you a quick, deep kiss, before steadying his position and pressing his face into your neck. With a small growl as a warning, he pulled his hips away and slammed them back in. More gasps sounded around you, likely shocked that he wasn’t done yet, or even that he hadn’t been knotted that whole time. His pace resumed as the hectic, needy thrusts it was before and it jolted your body perfectly. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he slammed into your g-spot again and again, angling his hips until his knot began battering against your entrance, yearning for access but too big to simply slip in like it had before.

Low moans and grunts left him and the sight of his ecstasy-laced expression was absolutely ethereal to you. One of his hands snapped to your hip and squeezed tightly, both keeping you in place and anchoring himself from going too far. It was only your first heat, after all, he didn’t want to hurt his precious Omega baby girl.

“Good.. Good fuckin’ girl…” He growled lowly, through the waves of lust and passion and that alone was enough to send you careening into another orgasm. Your head flew back, hitting the floor with a ‘thump’ neither of you paid much mind to, your walls clamped tightly around his cock, your juices squirting out of you at the intense pleasure flooding your system.

Right as your walls tightened up, your Alpha Daddy finally managed to push his knot inside. While your walls were still spasming, milking him for everything he was worth, his tip laid flush, prodding even into your cervix once again, though this time, his cum flooded your womb. As his hot ropes of cum shot into you, his head buried in your neck and his teeth latched into your neck. Over your scent gland. Over your Bonding Gland.

Your father not only knotted and laid in you, but he bonded you, too, He claimed you. The bond snapped into place while his cum was still gushing into you, fertilizing the eggs he laid inside you, that you would incubate until whichever one(s) that thrived were ready to be born. The feeling of the new bond and his knot was enough to have you completely blissed out.

“Did he do it? Did he finally knot her?” A badly hushed voice sounded from the outskirts of your little bubble of ecstasy and pleasure.

“Who cares, he just claimed her!” Another shocked voice responded.

“Yea, you don’t normally see familial claims in public much anymore, it’s usually part of a ceremony.”

“This one seemed pretty unexpected, though.”

“He’s the head of the clan so at least she can be sure he can provide.”

Too many scents. Too many other voices. Too many noises. Your senses were still on overdrive both from your new presentation and your first heat still coursing through your veins. You whined in discomfort and shifted closer to your father, curling into him so that he could act as a shield.

“It’s alright, Ladybug. Daddy’s here. Alpha’s got you.” He purred protectively and scooped you closer to his chest. He laved at your neck, over your new mating mark, and lightly kissed the red and inflamed skin. With a small warning, he fisted the clothes that lay discarded under you and lifted your body up as he stood, keeping you steady so as to not jostle his knot still plugging you up. You scrambled for purchase, your legs locking around his hips and your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, inadvertently grabbing ahold of his own coat that had been haphazardly tossed over his back for coverage.

“Gonna take you home now, kay?” He muttered into your ear with a glare shot over your shoulder at everyone who still stood gawking. Like magic, they all parted for him to pass through, the fear of an Alpha caring for their Omega in heat sending icy shivers up their spines. With a whimper-accompanied nod, he marched the short distance back to the family estate. Shino-nii was off on a mission so he wouldn’t be home for another few days, but you had the passing thought that you were excited to share your newfound presentation. He’d surely be very impressed and proud to have the first Omega in however many generations as his precious Imouto.

Before you even noticed you were back at the estate and walking through the halls. Dropped clothes scattered the floor behind your trek and you felt his hips slide against yours, the movement more free as his knot had shrunk. Before long, you recognized the surroundings of your father’s bedroom and felt his soft sheets cushion your rapid descent.

“My knot’s deflated by now. So what do you say we make sure my seed takes, Omega?” Your daddy growled seductively, rolling his hips against yours for emphasis and reigniting the fiery heat coursing through your body, begging for his spend to douse the flames.

“Please, Alpha.”

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

@frosch-thefrog @hellsingalucard18

[maliciousblog]

Smile for the camera (Eunwoo)

He was binging on your latest drama. You had finally caught your big break as a lead in a successful drama as the main lead.

The drama ranking No.1 in many countries ,shooting you into stardom. Earning you much critical acclaim and praise not only for your talent but also your beauty with a whole new army of fans with it.

Him included he initially admired your talent his guilty pleasure being watching your interviews and saving the cute fan edits that were made of you. His admiration for your work blooming into a little crush for you.  He was taken for your personality and work ethic.

He tried to get his agent to book a project with you but given your sudden shooting up in popularity you were booked and busy.

Music video shoots , runway shows , ad campaigns you name it your face was on it.

Not that you would complain about it.

You loved working the job you had genuinely bought you joy.

As you were able to make dreams a reality through your work you could make art come to life.

You knew you busted your ass to get where you are.

Months of auditions only to be faced with constant rejection and when you finally did land a job it was a minor role not even noticeable to most.

When those countless hours of work finally paid off it was a dream come true a dream you had put your blood and sweat into.

The dream you spent your whole life working towards and you sure as hell weren't about to let these new opportunities pass you by.

So you took them as they came agreeing to every intriguing project your manager bought to you.

Currently you were at the launch of a beauty brand collaboration. You were appointed as the ambassador of the beauty brand star dust releasing a line for makeup inspired by your favourite desserts. The lip  products named after the sweet treats you enjoyed to eat and the eyeshadow palettes inspired by your favourite colours.

To no one's surprise the launch went well and you were back home letting your aching feet get some rest.

Just as you were about to dooze off the shrill ring of your mobile woke you up half asleep your hands reaching in search for your phone.

Picking it up your manager's voice coming through telling you that you had an audition for a drama first thing in the morning you hummed in agreement and tossed the phone across the room. You were worn to the bone this was tomorrow's problem right now you had to rest in order to make your best impression tomorrow.

As you close your eyes in sleep another pair lay open restless at night.

Eunwoo lay awake nothing particularly stopping him from sleeping it was just one of those days.

When the air was stale and the bed was a little too warm to be comfortable.

Maybe a walk would help.

Rustling out of bed he pulled on a black hoodie and a cap. Conceal his face as he aimlessly walked down the city streets in an effort to tire himself out.

Looking into the buildings that lined the streets lit up with bright lights luring unsuspecting customers inside.

That's when he saw a poster of you advertising your makeup line.

He had some time on his hands and wouldn't do him much harm to go check it out.

He was supporting a fellow actor it was the right thing to do.

Birds of the same flock should look out for each other right?.

Before he knew it he was at the counter inspecting the products not that he would get much use out of them he did use makeup while filming but not exactly the sparkling and glittery kind but that didn't really matter now did it.

His desire for coming in wasn't for the makeup it was for you.

He grabbed a box set of your entire collection and headed for checking out.

The underpaid store clerk didn't take too much notice of him.

Monotonously scanning his items and bagging them not forgetting to slip in the complimentary photo cards of you.

Handing the bag to him before turning their eyes down back to scrolling through their phone.

He grabbed his bag thanking the clerk ,heading back to his apartment.

Excitement blooming in his chest wondering which photocard he had gotten.

It felt weird is this what his fans felt like when they bought his merch.

He never thought he would be able to be in the shoes of his fans but here he was in their position.

It felt weird. He couldn't place what exactly it was you barely knew him.

Yet here he was getting giddy at the thought of which mystery little piece of cardboard with a selfie he would pull.

He grabbed some take out on him way back to his apartment.

Placing his food on one side of the table the other side he placed your merch tearing into the packaging inspecting the contents inside admiring it.

Saving the photocard for last it was a selfie of you holding a macaroon. He had to agree it was cute.

Slipping it into his wallet the action seemed so natural to him.

He had become a full on fan boy now. There was no going back.

The following days were spent buying out more of your merch in fact all the merch you had to offer.

Finding its place into his house.

The best of all was when he got a call from his agent that he was given an offer for a drama where you were cast as the female lead.

He agreed to it with a little too much enthusiasm that his agent had to ask him to at least check the script out first.

He replied that he would but for now to immediately inform production that he would accept the job.

He didn't care what the drama was about as long as he got the opportunity to work with you.

Imagine his joy when he discovered that it was a romance drama a sweet collage love story with you as him love interest and him as your leading man. The story was sweet and touching.

It was bound to gather success . the story was good , along with both of your talent and star power it was bound to be a hit.

He managed to rush production into starting filming as soon as possible stating that he would have scheduling issues if they didn't.

You were more than happy to get back into work.

Especially with someone like Eunwoo.

The first day on set went like any other day

The usual outfit fittings and test runs. Nothing out of the ordinary apart from your over enthusiastic costar.

It was endearing at first his enthusiasm to spend time with you.

His insistent demands to rehearse your scenes together before filming.

You couldn't deny them he was your senior and had much more power over production and executives than you did.

One word from him and you could get kicked off set.

You didn't have an option but to go along with what he said and agree to rehearse the scenes over and over again.

You guessed that he was just a perfectionist.

But it didn't end at that he insisted on spending as much time with you as he possibly could giving you the sorry excuse that he was method acting and he was just doing it in order to stay in character to make sure the emotional scenes were more believable and realistic.

In his perspective it was just a crush and he was just doing what he had to do to make sure you were in his sight and eventually fall for him.

Who could resist him.

He knew he had to play it safe with you he had to make sure his moves were precise and calculated.

You were too focused on your career to be dating.

Not that he didn't try.

The constant flirting and dropping one hint after the other.

He got your message loud and clear you weren't interested.

Honestly it was a little insulting and he would be lying if he didn't admit that it didn't sting his ego a little. He knew his worth and knew that he was more than a fine catch.

But you were just too stubborn. Weren't you but that was just a small issue he could easily fix.

You were so perfect together.

Everyone around you saw it.

The staff were head over heels for you both.

Your chemistry ozzed off the screen mostly because you were a good actor.

But something was missing in the plot.

Something that would send your life into a spiral.

Your pair was a little too perfect it would make the story boring to the audience.

Most of the filming was completed over the past 4 months but the story was a little flat. It lacked the drama that was needed to keep the audience hooked.

The writing department had to predictable idea of adding a second lead creating a love triangle.

It wasn't anything ground breaking or new but it was a good way to spice things up and add some drama enough to keep the audience hooked.

You didn't mind the change added to the script.

You could work with it.

But one member on set wasn't as flexible he spent the next few hours arguing with executives on the plot changes but their hands were tied the sponsors had invested too much into the drama for it to possibly not do well.

They had to do what production told them too.

There wasn't anything they could do to change it.

But at least it would only add a few more weeks onto the filming schedule he could work with that.

He knew it was a game of patience.

For now he just had to suck it up and choke back down the bile that raised in his throat each time he saw you and the second lead Yunho film together.

His crush escalated into obsession when he saw the both of you film for the first time.

It looked so natural.

It made his blood boil.

Especially when he heard some of the staff on set say that they were team Yunho. The thought of which made him white with rage.

The worst of it wasn't even when you were on camera.

It was your willingness to spend time with Yunho off camera.

It perplexed him.

You would constantly try to make stupid excuses to avoid spending time with him.

But here you were giggling away at the stupid jokes this boy cracked.

He couldn't see how much his presence suffocates you. Constantly hovering around you using every excuse to be near you.

Adding unnecessary intimate scenes to the show. Stealing kisses from you while on camera to make things seem more "believable".

It was pathetic and you saw right through it at first it was flattering but not it just felt like you were being taken advantage of and the worst thing about it was that there was nothing you could do about it.

It was a man's world and you knew that.

One wrong move from your side to piss off the wrong man in power and poff you would just be another star forgotten by time.

You just had to suck it up for a while longer it was just a couple more weeks of filming and everyone knew you would end up with him.

It was all part of the bigger picture.

Filming went by in a haze and you and him were filming a commercial for one of the sponsors of the show.

It was a perfume brand warranting a steamy little commercial.

It was the first look the public had to your pair and they ate it right up.

Buzz for your show skyrocketed as they couldn't help but to start shipping the both of you.

The chemistry was undeniably mesmerizing.

Which wasn't because you liked him it was just because you were a good actor.

Your dislike for him only grew with how cocky he was about the success of your advertisement.

The interviews and promotion that followed you drama was even more insufferable.

He made it his mission to sell the image of the ideal couple to the public.

It was a trap and you knew it.

He would post you on his social media and be flirtatious and  drop constant hints of your make belief relationship.

He very well knew that if he had the public on his side he could get you to do anything he wanted.

If they believed that the both of you were a couple and began shipping the both of you.

You would have no choice but to be his.

If you broke it off with him the public would brand you a slut.

Breaking the heart of a man that loved you so dearly and sincerely.

How could you be so heartless.

Offers for work would start to drop and he would conveniently drop a cheating scandal on you and then poof overnight your career would be non existent.

It was a sick and twisted trap but one that would surely work.

Once the show aired to no one's surprise it was a hit. The numbers are higher than you had ever seen before.

Within weeks the both of you were being offered roles by big media houses to work together again.

Your agency was pressing you into dating him publicly.

Threatening to terminate your contact and black list you if you denied.

They knew that they would make huge profits off your relationship and were more than willing to squeeze out every last bit of it off you no matter what the price.

It was either that or losing the career you had spent your whole life building up.

You were in your apartment sobbing into your pillow when you heard the door to your room creak open.

There he stood with a beautiful bouquet of spider lilies in hand.

In the low light of your bedroom he almost looked like a statue his beauty was sickening in different circumstances you would consider yourself the luckiest girl in the world to have a man like him.

But only you could see behind his beautiful mask that hid his cruel intentions for you.

He came up to you wiping away your tears.

"You wouldn't have to go through all this if you just said yes.

Not that you have much of an option not to.

I can give you the world.

And you have to be such an ungrateful little bitch don't you."

You felt your scalp burn and he yanked you up by the hair to face him.

"You will go along with whatever I say.

You will do anything I ask of you.

Either that or I'll destroy you and everything you love.

I'm honestly being kind to you I could destroy your career and still have you.

But I'm being kind , agree to be my doting love struck girlfriend and you get to keep your precious little career.

I'm a reasonable man but I'm not a very forgiving man so don't take advantage of my kindness.

It would be unfortunate if I were to leak your family's private information now wouldn't it.

Just imagine what our crazed fans would do to them when they find out you hurt me and our relationship by being a selfish cunt."

You shoved him off you.

'Please just leave them out of this you want me right fine. Ju.. just please leave them out of it I'm begging you.'

You pleaded to him.

"See that's my good girl look how reasonable you are right now.

I would hate to see something bad happen to my in-laws.

So now be a good girl and pick up that bouquet and go post about how amazing of a boyfriend I am and how much you fucking love me alright."

He said as he left a kiss on your forehead leaving you there in shambles.

" By the way. You look really pretty when you beg. I should make you do it more often."

Once the news of your relationship was aired out into the world it has gone just as he predicted it would.

So the both of you had become the No.1 power couple of the entertainment industry.

He made sure you did a convincing job at playing the devoted partner who always supported him and stood by him no matter what.

He made sure to pick out your roles for you making sure you mostly worked with him or did solo lead movies and shows.

Making sure to keep your interaction with men that weren't him to an absolute minimum.

And it did work for a while but that didn't stop men from flirting with you or asking you out despite being in a very public relationship.

Who could blame them you were beautiful and off camera anyone could see your dislike for your boyfriend that occasionally showed on your face.

You always tried your level best to make sure that he would always be happy.

And his happiness was at the direct proportion to how well you behaved.

You soon realised he didn't just want a girlfriend he wanted to make sure you were his forever.

He wanted to put a stop to this unwanted male attention that you always drew onto yourself.

It wasn't enough. This relationship was enough it was too fragile it was too rocky.

You always felt like you were walking on thin ice when you were around him.

Trying to make sure you smile didn't falter, making sure the hugs and kisses you gave him felt genuine.

The words of affection you uttered towards him were genuine.

It wasn't too hard to convince him of it , you were an actor after all.

It wasn't too hard to give him the illusion of the perfect life he wanted.

What was hard was for you to accept defeat.

It was all part of his plan after all wasn't it.

The final piece of the puzzle.

He stood at the other side of the room as your sobbing echoed through the walls reaching his ears.

You slid down the walls clutching a positive pregnancy test. Knowing that all hopes of ever leaving him were gone.

There was no leaving him now.

Him baby trapping you would force you to marry him as soon as possible before anyone knew that you were pregnant.

He had it all now.

Successful career.

Loving wife and now a beautiful family.

You were finally defeated.

You were stuck with him now for life.

You loved your children and he did too.

You managed to convince the world that you loved him maybe one day you could convince yourself too.

You were no longer a person just another accessory that he paraded around on his arm.

Show off like a trophy that he had won.

He lived the life others could only ever dream of having. While you were stuck in a nightmare that he had carefully woven for you.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Laurence Olivier (Hamlet, Rebecca, Pride and Prejudice)—Any reference article will tell you that he's one of the finest stage actors of the 20th century and (arguably) contributed to transforming the landscape of live theater in the Anglophone world. But this is the Tumblr hot men poll, where it is arguably more important to know that he was an incredibly charming bi disaster who eye-fucked Vivien Leigh so conspicuously that everyone talked about it, both before and after their marriage. I do not have words for how hot this man was. I once sat under a portrait of him in black velvet and tights in the NPG cafeteria, and let me tell you I remember that so much better than my sandwich. I listened to a recording of him as Coriolanus on stage and got full-body chills. I photographed his copy of Richard III in the Folger Shakespeare Library for the sake of seeing his handwriting and his thoughts. ...okay, so I may have a problem, but the point is. So hot. And delivered one of the iconic pre-1970 lines about bisexuality on film ("oysters *and* snails," Spartacus 1963.)

Harry Belafonte (Carmen Jones, Island in the Sun)—one of my favorite things in the world when I'm sad is kicking back and listening to him and Danny Kaye singing "Hava Nagila" together. Or who can forget this man singing the Banana Boat song with the Muppets?? immensely talented, a powerful fighter for civil rights and humanitarian causes his whole life, if you have any remaining doubts PLEASE look at the following pics [clips and pics attached below]

This is round 3 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Harry Belafonte propaganda:

"Now let me say this about the songs of the Caribbean - almost all black music is deeply rooted in metaphor. The only way that we could speak to the pain and anguish of our experiences was often through how we codified our stories in the songs that we sang. And when I sing the 'Banana Boat Song,' the song is a work song. It's about men who sweat all day long, and they are underpaid, and they're begging the tallyman to come and give them an honest count - counting the bananas that I've picked, so I can be paid. And sometimes, when they couldn't get money, they'll give them a drink of rum. There's a lyric in the song that says, 'Work all night on a drink of rum.' People sing and delight and dance and love it, but they don't really understand unless they study the song that they're singing a work song, a song of rebellion." -Harry Belafonte

Laurence Olivier propaganda:

"THEE actor man. You can't take theater classes and not know about this man. THEE Hamlet. Look at this lil blondie. VERY talented. (we are ignoring him also playing Othello, no he should not have done that) He was a pretty baby"

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

That's the day that Chad and I found out that the show wasn't coming back. Or the, that I'm sorry, I take it back. That the show was coming back just without us. -Hilarie 

Wait, the day you were shooting your flaming Amy's flashback. Tell us everything. -Sophia

Well, we'd shot everything else. Right? -Hilarie

Wait, wait, wait. So you were doing these flashbacks, these like this deep nostalgia episode, not knowing that it was teeing up the exit. -Sophia

I was put in the blonde wig again as punishment for having red hair. Right. And I noticed a conversation with like Brooke and Victoria where it was like, are you really gonna leave the company and ruin the careers of all the people that you've been?  Like such a pointed conversation for you to have to have 'cause we were all in contract negotiations at this point, except me. I had never gotten a phone call from anybody. And so they were making offers to everybody and everyone was trying to hold the line. And all they needed were a couple people to sign on in order for the show to come back. And Chad and I never even got phone calls. So we were seated in that diner booth and we're like, it's our last day of filming. We did all of the present day stuff, we did most of the flashback stuff. And all of a sudden our producer Greg Prange is like, all right, everybody like pause what you're doing, circle up. Just wanted to make the announcement. The show is coming back. We've been picked up for a seventh season. And Chad looks at me and he's like, have you even gotten an offer? And I was like, no. And he's like, I haven't gotten an offer. And so around us, everyone around us is like hugging and high fiving. I mean, it felt like balloons were dropping from the ceiling. Everybody was so fucking pumped. And he and I just kind of sat there and we knew it was coming. We had, you know, Peyton got hit by a car in the last episode. She's on her death bed, you know, and he and I were the highest paid actors on the show. And we knew we were on the chopping block. And so our bosses, Voldemort and other Dipshits were in town. And we said, can they come to set? They were at the production office and we were at Flaming Amy's. We like, can they come to set? It's only, it's two o'clock in the afternoon. Can they come here and just like explain to us what's going on? Is there something, can someone just talk to us? They refused. They would not come speak to us. And instead they took other actors out to dinner that night to celebrate. And so Chad and I wrap work and I gotta take that fucking wig off. and you know, there's a sense of betrayal 'cause you're like, huh, okay cool. We didn't hold the line and so we'll go be the expendable ones. Fuck it. And Chad and I decide for the first time ever in our time together in Wilmington, that we are gonna go out together and we are gonna tie one on. And so Chad and I ended up at the Whiskey, which was like a bar right on the corner of downtown. You know, and like metal bands played there. And Bibis, our friend would play there all the time until two o'clock in the morning. He and I are just like sweating and smoking and drinking and dancing. And Chad's a very good dancer and every college chick in the place is like, oh my God, it's Lucas and Peyton and they're really together and this is so crazy. And it was insane. And so then from two to three o'clock in the morning we sat on, on like a retaining wall downtown and just really discussed like, we're out. We've had this shit dangled over our heads. There's no one here who's fighting for us. You know, the friendships are fake. It's not real. And we're gonna go and we're just gonna do some other stuff and we'll always tell each other the truth. You know? And so he walked me home and I remember that also being kind of weird. It felt like a date. It's the one date that Chad and I went on and it was very platonic. And then I called him a cab. And even the cab driver was like, I'm picking up Lucas Scott from Peyton Sawyers house.  It was crazy. But from that moment on for the whole rest of this season, it was, it was hell. It was really bad. It was really bad. 'cause it was, it was so pointed, you know, I'd been the person to do every upfront, every TCA every advertiser dinner party. I hosted the launch party for the CW  I had been the company girl and it was the biggest fuck you. -Hilarie

But Chad and I had this magic night. We still laugh about it. I mean it was, it was probably the hardest I ever partied in Wilmington. And he didn't really drink, so I remember being shocked. Shocked, That he was drinking his like vodka cranberries or whatever he was drinking. We were both just so blindsided by it.  Like we, we knew it was coming, but until it happens. -Hilarie